Thanks to my psychiatrist for helping me with some of the PTSD info (medical mistakes are mine, I would have felt weird asking her to Beta).

Recap: Stephanie and Ranger go to an art installation called Philly Magic Gardens. (Google pictures of it, it's really neat), which Stephanie loves, but it brings back memories of various traumatic events for Ranger.

Ranger

Rationally I knew I was in Philadelphia, not South America or Asia, but I still kept remembering it like I was there. I started shaking a little, hoping I could pass it off as a shiver from the chill. Stephanie knew better though. I tried to shut the memories out, but could feel them pressing on my mind like a vice grip.

I wouldn't let that asshole be able to ruin my life even years after I'd been rescued. "Rojas, bastardo, te estás pudriendo en la cárcel mientras estoy aquí con una mujer hermosa. Gané, perdiste." (Rojas, you bastard, you're rotting in jail while I'm here with a beautiful woman. I won, you lost.)

I felt her lead me to a place to sit, and I closed my eyes, trying to stave off the memory.

Stephanie

The gardens were magical. Well, I suppose the name should have told me that. Nearly every surface of the building and grounds were covered in colorful mosaics. Even the bathrooms were a complete work of art. It was full of whimsy and color and light.

Ranger stood by my side as we looked in the museum, his eyes scanning everywhere as usual. Inside the building he seemed perfectly normal, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, wafting the scent of his Bvlgari shower gel over me. We were just another couple out for an evening together.

Things changed when we went outside to the garden section. At first it was wonderful. We walked together closely to ward off the chill the October night brought. And Ranger seemed happy, which was unusual for him. I mean, he doesn't seem unhappy most of the time, but he's just so serious. But in the past few days I've actually seen him smile, not just when he was looking at me, but in his everyday life. Lester told me that the guys were really enjoying the fact that Ranger wasn't making it to the gym every morning. Some of them were bruise-free for the first time since they'd gotten hired. I told him to make sure that they were still in shape, because I was enjoying keeping him in bed in the morning too much to want him feeling he had to leave to keep his people in shape.

The trouble seemed to start when we walked down a staircase and through a short hallway. Ranger had to duck to get through it, and I walked behind him in the narrow space. Suddenly he froze, and he ducked down even lower. His body twitched oddly. A second later he was fine, and I didn't think anymore of it. We studies the walls of an open space that sparkled in the floodlights. The walls were topped with colored glass bottles and bicycle wheels, like a fairy's junkyard. I held Ranger to me as I marveled at the spectacle. After a few minutes we went back into the labyrinth, through a room so small I couldn't spread my arms out fully. Again Ranger tensed up. Normally he moves like a cat, ready to pounce at half a moment's notice, but now every muscle was coiled like a jack in the box that had been held closed. I'd never seen him like that. Even when he was in mortal danger he had looked more relaxed.

"Ranger?" I asked tentatively. His head was faced in my direction, but his eyes were distant. Then he blinked. "Sorry Tank, you're right. But I don't deserve her."

That was worrisome. I was about 12 inches shorter than Tank, 12 shades lighter, and had 12 inches more hair. The only way we resembled each other was that we were both bipedal carbon-based lifeforms. Ranger must have been really out of it. I looked for a place to sit down that wasn't covered in tile, and found a small alcove with some stones that I think were meant to act as stools. He was shaking a little, coherent but definitely weird. He was mumbling under his breath, but is was in Spanish, and all I caught was the name Rojas.

I faced him towards a wall so other people wouldn't see him. I knew he'd hate being visible while he wasn't in control of himself. Beyond that I wasn't sure what to do. I put my hand on his shoulder so it would look like we were just a couple desiring some privacy, but he tensed up again. I didn't know what to do. I pulled out my phone and made a call, trying to keep my voice down.

"Hey, Bomber. How is the City of Brotherly Love treating you?"

Bobby's voice was warm and comforting. I started to feel better immediately. "I'm not sure, Bobby. Ranger and I were on our date and suddenly he started acting strange. Now he's shaking and muttering to himself in Spanish."

"Shit. What's he saying.?"

"I have no idea!" I whispered, more angrily than I meant to. "The only words I know in Spanish are all about food! So far, no mention of enchiladas or tacos, so I'm out of luck."

"Is he armed?"

"He's Ranger, what do you think?"

"Is he aware of his surroundings? Does he know who you are?"

"I think so. He let me lead him, and I imagine he's picky about who he allows to do that."

"OK, we need to make sure we don't startle him. It sounds like he's having a PTSD attack. Not surprising after all the missions he's been on. Hold the phone close to him so I can hear what he's saying."

Bobby

The human mind is only capable of handling so much. No matter how much training we have, no matter how strong we think we are, at a certain point it simple says "No More" and lashes back out. Normally we would have decompression after missions, but for the past couple of years Ranger had been cutting his sessions short, getting back to Trenton as soon as the army would allow him too. He claimed it was because he had a business to run. We all knew the truth. He wanted to get back to her. Stephanie calmed him down more than anything else could, but while watching her sleep might make him feel right with the world, it seems skipping the counseling sessions was finally catching up with him.

If I had been in Trenton I would have told Bomber that I would come down. But I was spending the weekend in Boston, and it would take hours to get back. Ranger being armed and in a public place made the situation extra delicate. As long as he was still aware, he would probably be OK. If he went fully into it the flashback would be far more dangerous. If he felt threatened and pulled his weapon, it could end his career. Or even get someone killed, Bomber more likely than anyone since she would be standing closest to him.

As Bomber moved the phone closer to Ranger I tried to make out what he was saying. My Spanish wasn't nearly as good as his, but I worked out most of it. No te diré nada, Rojas. Tengo que mantenerla a salvo. Volveré contigo, nena. Volveré a ti y te pondré al día y te diré cómo me siento. Qué importante fue esa noche para mí. Es todo lo que me mantiene sano. (I won't tell you anything, Rojas. I've got to keep her safe. I'll come back to you, Babe. I'll come back to you and I'll man up and tell you how I feel. How important that night was for me. It's all that's kept me sane.)

The name Rojas told me all I needed to know. He was reliving the time he was captured and tortured for 4 days before we found him. Something had triggered that memory. I'd never known Ranger to have a flashback before, though it was always a risk for people in our profession. There was always a price for doing the things we had done.

"Bomber, I can't reveal to you details about the situation he was in that he's reliving, but I do know that thinking of you gave him a lot of comfort. The best I can suggest is to talk softly, don't startle him, but let him know that you are there, that he's safe, and that he's experiencing a memory. Whatever he's remembering is in the past, it's not happening now. Don't touch him, if he feels threatened he may pull his weapon."

Stephanie

I stepped tentatively towards Ranger and started talking softly, holding the phone so Bobby could hear.

"Ranger, Ranger, it's me, Babe. You're safe, we're in Philadelphia, you're with me. I know you're remembering something horrible, but it's in the past. Right here, right now, you and I are together. We're together and you're safe. What you're remembering is in the past. It was horrible, but it's over. You're safe here with me."

I was rambling and I knew it, saying the same thing over and over again. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but I think I saw his shoulders relax a little. I moved to kneel in front of him, repeating myself over and over, searching for the light in his eyes.