AN: So, I realize this story is super short, but that was the intention. I could very well have made this story twenty or more chapters long, and in the begining I wanted to, but I'm currently writing two multi-chapter stories, and that alone keeps me from expanding on this in any meaningful way, so I published this to make sure Willow and Sean saw the light of day, even if it was for a brief moment.
I've got an outline for a larger story based on this one, but I'm not so sure...
Oh well, maybe if this story is received well enough, or when I finish Just Say It or Murphy's Law...
Anyway, enjoy!
Willow was not happy.
Doctors appointments never made her happy, but this one was exceptionally infuriating. Someone in some personnel office somewhere had decided that she needed to see a psychiatrist after what had happened to her, and psychiatrist was the last person she wanted to see right now.
She realized that this appointment was routine for soldiers returning from deployment with extensive injuries, but still it infuriated her that the UNSC saw fit to have her see a psychiatrist. She wasn't some nutcase in need of a section-8 discharge, she was a perfectly capable, functional Marine. What had happened to her might have changed her, but she could still shoot straighter, fight harder, and run faster than any Covie bastard she would ever encounter
Oohra.
Still, she sat respectfully as doctor Lindsay McCarthy questioned her incessantly about her mental state, and she tried to answer as best she could.
"Willow, have you experienced increased hostility or anxiety since your return from deployment?"
She rolled her eyes.
Well, that one was a no-brainer. Sean sure had felt the effects of that one.
"Yes," she answered flatly.
"And how has that manifested itself?"
Willow shrugged. "I don't know. I have a harder time trusting people. I've chewed out more than a few people who didn't deserve it since my return."
Doctor McCarthy pursed her lips and looked down at the compad she was using to take notes.
Willow didn't like the look on her face. She looked almost as though she had already come to her conclusion on what was wrong with her before their appointment was over.
"What about flashbacks?" Asked Lindsay, "Have you experienced any of those?"
Willow became visibly tense. She certainly had experienced those in their full force. She could still remember the terror she felt during that training exercise as the simulated wraith mortar streaked towards her, her pounding earth and the undeniable sense of impending doom that had made her feel week, helpless, and everything else she had promised herself she would never feel again.
"Willow?" Asked doctor McCarthy after a moment.
"Yes," she said, snapping out of her frozen state.
The doctor looked at her with sad eyes. It was almost as if she knew just how much pain Willow was in, but she didn't, no one else did, and no one else understood the reason why this appointment needed to be over with as quickly as possible.
She needed to get back in the fight and get back at the Covenant for what they had taken from her.
"Is that a yes, or a no?" Asked Lindsay.
Willow sighed. There was no use in lying. The doctor evidently knew the truth anyway.
"Yes," she said, "but why does that have anything to do with my return to duty? Plenty of soldiers have bad dreams."
Now it was Lindsay's turn to sigh. "Willow, a flash back is more than a bad dream. If you are reliving your experience in combat on a constant basis it can wear down your psyche to a dangerous level. Sometimes it can lead to thoughts of suicide. Have you had any thoughts like that recently?"
"No!" Said Willow indignantly.
Unfortunately, that couldn't be further from the truth. Suicide had been something she had contemplated frequently since her return. She had never acted on it, but sometimes the thought of living with this disability of her's was something she simply couldn't stand, and it seemed like such a blissfully easy way out of her pain, but she had refused the simplicity of it. She still had work left to do.
Doctor McCarthy clearly didn't believe her.
"Please be truthful Willow. There's nothing shameful in any of this. I'm just trying to get you the best help I can."
Willow glared at her. "I told you the truth and you won't believe it. I'm done talking."
Doctor McCarthy frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
She nodded. "Take care Willow. If you need anything, you know where to find me."
Willow stood and stormed out without a word. She rushed home to her apartment, and began angrily pacing as soon as she entered the door.
How dare the doctor talk about me like that, she thought, she can't act like she knows me. She doesn't understand why I need to fight. She never will.
Her compad buzzed as she received a message from the doctor. She had failed her psychological evaluation.
"Damnit!" She cursed aloud.
That left her only one more chance to return to active duty. Her physical test.
With the war going like it was the UNSC needed every available Marine on the front lines, and Willow new if she passed her physical with flying colors she may be allowed back in regardless of her injury.
She had to be allowed back in, she had to...
She was stirred from her thought by a knock at the door. She angrily threw it open to find Sean standing in the door way, smiling at her and holding a paper bag.
"Hey Willow. Just thought I'd drop by and give this to you," he said, holding it out to her.
Whatever was in the bag was food of some kind, and damn did it smell good, but she knew why Sean was here and that angered her more than a little bit of food could remedy.
She glared at him. "I told you my evaluation was today? Didn't I? That's why you're here, to check up on me right?"
He shook his head. "Of course not. I'm just here because I thought you might need something to eat. That's all."
He extended the bag towards her, and she narrowed her eyes to slits. She knew that wasn't the truth. He was here to comfort her, probably because he expected her to fail the examination.
"You're a really bad liar Sean."
He sighed. "Look, if you won't let me in, please at least take the food. You look like you've had a long day."
She reluctantly accepted the bag and looked inside. It was two hamburgers, presumably one for each of them. It was a far cry from Sean's last attempt at romancing her by cooking for her.
"You told me to make it less formal," he said with a smile.
She sighed exasperatedly. Maybe she was being to hard on him. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.
She reluctantly invited him in and set the food down on her small living room coffee table.
Willow pulled off her prosthetics and sat down next to Sean. As he had in the past, he barely seemed to notice her legs at all, keeping his gaze level with her eyes and smiling at her just the same as he had before.
The same doubt built up in her. Doubt that he really could think of her as anything but a useless cripple.
He leaned in to kiss her, but she jerked away from him, denying him the ability to even touch her.
He frowned. "Are you feeling ok Willow?"
"I'm fine," she said indignantly, "just because I won't kiss you doesn't mean I'm sick, that's a privilege not a right, and even if I wasn't I'd see a doctor. Not you."
Sean tried hard not to look hurt, but that just made her feel more guilty for the comment. She knew he hadn't been trying to take advantage of her, but she simply wasn't ready to jump right back into that, no matter how good it had felt in the past.
It was just too much right now.
Sean backed off, and the two ate in silence for a while longer. Willow refused to even meet his gaze, much to Sean's disappointment. She looked like she was in no small amount of pain, and for the life of him Sean didn't understand why she wouldn't let him help.
He reached over to rub shoulder, but she shrugged him off and glared at him.
"Will you quit trying to touch me?"
"Sorry," he said apologetically, "you just seem tense."
She rolled her eyes. "So what if I seem tense? It's not your place to fix that, and I never gave you permission to touch me. We went on one date, quit acting like you're my boyfriend or something."
Sean was visibly hurt by her comment. She felt a momentary pang of guilt for saying that. She doubted he was upset because she wouldn't put a name to their relationship so quickly, probably because he simply wanted to help her.
Still, she ignored him and said nothing, hardening her facial expression so he couldn't see the sadness in her eyes.
"Please, don't shut me out Willow," he said in a saddened tone.
She bit her lip and frowned. "Sean, I'm not in good place right now."
"I know." He replied. "I just wish you'd tell me why."
"Fine!" She exclaimed, "You want to know why? I failed my evaluation. If I don't pass the physical exam with flying colors I may never return to active duty, hell, they might just discharge me altogether. I can't be discharged! I need to fight. I have to."
Instead of shutting Sean up like she expected her comment to, it only made him seem more sad.
"Willow..." He said softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
She accepted his touch for a brief moment. It felt good in a way to be comforted, but it only made her feel more week, and she wouldn't have that, so she shrugged it off.
She didn't lash out at him. She instead simply crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the floor in despair.
"Willow, are you sure this isn't for the best?"
That jerked her out of her calm state. She snapped her attention back to him, furious once again.
"What the hell do you mean?" She spat, "you think I'm some crazy section eight too, don't you?"
"No, I never said that," he tried to say, "I'm simply saying that if you're in pain maybe it's for the best that you stay here and get treated. It will only get worse if you force yourself into a bad situation."
Willow wouldn't hear it.
She shoved him away from her, her eyes blazing with rage. Even Sean, the one person who never seemed to have a bad word to say about her thought she was insane. It was up to her now, and her alone.
"Just leave. I don't need you, and I certainly don't need your opinion on my mental state. Now get out!"
Sean frowned and tried to move closer to her. "Please, don't shut me out Willow."
She shoved him back once again and glared daggers at him.
"Now!"
He paused for a moment, then nodded gravely and turned to leave.
"Take care of yourself Willow," he said as he walked defeatedly towards the door.
She didn't even look at him as he left. She didn't need him, she didn't need anyone. What she needed to do was get back at the Covenant.
She had three days to prepare for her physical exam, and she spent nearly every waking hour of that time training and practicing with weapons. She exercised relentlessly, pushing herself further than even she thought she could go, but there was only one hurdle of the exam she wasn't sure she could pass, the combat simulation.
Her exam one consist of two parts; a PT evaluation, and a session in the war games combat simulator. She knew that she would have to face armored vehicles during that simulation, and more than likely, one of them would be a wraith.
She knew what she had to do to get over her fear, but still she put it off until the day before the exam.
She headed down to the camp's ordnance range, and filled out a requisition form for six inert, training rounds of rocket launcher ammo and one target, a wraith tank.
She stood on the firing line of the range with her eyes closed and her rocket launcher shouldered, the dusty wind of the camp wiped around her and kept her grounded and focused as she prepared herself for what she was about to do.
"Target, front target," said her spotter, identifying her target of choice through his range finder, "armored vehicle, type 26 assault gun carriage, tone?"
Willow paused for a moment, then opened her eyes, settling the optic of the rocket launcher on the center of the wraith and began waiting for the lock on tone.
Instantly her heart began to pound, her breathing quickened and began to see red as all of her focus was centered on the tank. Her throat was closing, panic was setting in.
Deep breaths Willow, you got this, she thought. If only she believed that.
She began to shake slightly as she held her eyes on the tank. The reticle of the launcher's optic shifted all around her target.
Damnit Willow, stay focussed.
"Corporal, tone?" Asked her spotter once again, waking Willow from her panic, if only slightly.
Panic had set in so much that she hadn't noticed the launcher had already given her the lock on tone she needed for the rocket to track it's target.
"Tone...locked," she said in a shaky voice, bracing herself to pull the trigger.
"Fire," said the spotter.
She hesitated, her finger shaking as she tried to apply force to the trigger to no avail.
"Not this time you Covie bastards," she said aloud as she finally jerked the trigger twice, sending both of the launcher's rockets streaking towards the target.
Her hand began to shake as she watched the rockets soar towards the target, so much so that the launchers computer lost its lock on the wraith.
No! No! No! She thought.
She tried desperately to require her target, but couldn't in time. The two inert rockets sailed off into the distance, exploding into flashes of chalk on a hillside near the target.
"Negative effect on target," said the spotter, more than a little surprised.
She let out a long breath, not even realizing she had been holding one, and dropped the launcher onto the table in front of her. She collapsed to the dirt and gravel floor of the range, hyperventilating and shaking violently while she covered her visor with her hands, fighting to hold back tears. The same, annoying and terrifying images of the round streaking towards her, the horror of the first sight of her new legs, images she was sure would never leave her mind.
The spotter knelt down next to her.
"Corporal, are you ok?" He asked with concern.
She barely restrained herself from taking a swing at him. Instead she tore off her helmet and threw it to the ground, glaring at him intensely.
The spotter got the message and backed off. Willow sat there for a few more minutes trying to collect herself.
How am I going to pass this test if I can't shoot a piece of scrap metal? She cursed.
She would figure it out, she had to. She wouldn't let this get in her way.
The day of her physical came quicker than she thought.
She hadn't gotten in nearly enough training to feel prepared, and she knew the course would be stacked against her. None of the doctors she had seen wanted her to return to active duty, and she was certain that they would set up the evaluation to be impossible to pass, so she would just have to do the impossible anyway.
On top of that, several high ranking Marine Corps officials were going to be watching her performance tonight. Never before had a Marine so critically wounded attempted to return to active duty, and many of her superiors were impressed.
They would be watching her with a critical eye.
It didn't matter thought. She had already passed the PT portion of the exam, which although extremely difficult, she had managed to pass with flying colors.
Now all that was left was the combat test.
She pulled on her battle armor and ran a system diagnostic, checked her battle rifle and rocket launcher to ensure training rounds had been loaded, and sat on the floor with her legs crossed, breathing deeply and attempting to concentrate on the task at hand.
It's just a simple combat test, she thought to herself, I have no need to be afraid of a piece of Covenant hardware.
If only she thought that were true.
Another ODST opened the door of the locker room and looked in.
"Corporal Mathews," he said, "it's time."
She nodded and put on her helmet, retrieved her rifle and launcher and entered the all-to-familiar simulated drop pod, strapping herself in for the simulation.
She looked up to give the other ODST a thumbs up to indicate she was ready, and to her complete surprise found Sean standing in front of her.
He looked just as sad as he had the day she had told him off. She assumed he was here to stop her from taking the test, and she wasn't about to listen to any of his attempts to dissuade her.
"I'm taking this test Sean. You can't stop me," she said with scorn, not meeting his gaze for a moment.
"I know. I just came to say good luck," he said with a weak smile, "I'll be in the observation room, so at least you'll have someone rooting for you."
She rolled her eyes. "You sure have a fetish for watching me fight, don't you? Go home and watch the news. I'm sure you'll see some Spartan's battlefield heroics. They're much more interesting."
He frowned. "You know I'm not here to see you fight Willow."
"Then why are you?" She shot back.
"Because believe it or not I care about you, and I don't want to see you hurt."
The way he said that made Willow stop dead in her tracks. He sounded almost angry. He had never responded to any of her actions with anger, no matter how poorly she treated him, so why was something she was doing to herself have such an affect on him?
She didn't care, or at least that was what she told herself. Sean's comments would only rattle her, and that was not what she needed right now.
"I'm already hurt Sean," she spat as she closed the drop pod, "I'm pretty sure I can't make it much worse."
The pod's glass went opaque, so she wasn't able to see his reaction, and that was probably for the best.
"Firefight!" Said the war games announcer, indicating the mode it was set to, "destroy enemies to score points."
She braced herself in her seat as the pod's simulated drop began, and her stomach shot into her throat from the 9 Gs of simulated acceleration.
The pod impacted with a thud and the door exploded open. She jumped out into the virtual battlefield, which was set up as a crumbling, abandoned section of highway overpass. A ruined city surrounded her in the distance, and the grey sky looked like it was threatening to rain, which it could if the AI decided to add that as a simulation variable. roads lead in on four sides, and she knew Covenant would be coming in from each, meaning her position had to be strategic.
She set up on top of the overpass and found the most likely place the enemy would come from first, and began to target incoming infantry with her rifle, methodically taking them down as they approached.
At first it looked as though the infantry would be relatively easy to defeat, but they just kept coming and coming in waves far bigger than normal firefight matches. At one point there were so many on the map that she began to see some of their AI glitching, as it became too hard for the computer to handle the amount of AI on the field.
She began to see red as she continued to mow down the hoards of advancing infantry, her resolve renewed to take out as many of them as she could.
She peaked over her cover and fired several bursts at them, and in her rage ended up exposing herself for a moment too long.
A needler round impacted her in the shoulder, and it stung like snake bite as the pain receptors in her specialized simulation battle armor triggered, making it almost impossible for her to move her shoulder without screaming in pain.
She dropped to her knees and pulled out a can of biofoam, spraying the wound until the armor's receptors returned to normal.
She reshouldered her rifle and peaked back out of cover, only to be confronted by the sound of a familiar, wining engine and a bulbous, purple shape of a vehicle she had grown all too familiar with.
Wraith! She thought to herself.
She tried not to look at it as she cleared out the remaining infantry. Normally a wraith marked the end of a firefight match. All she would have to do is destroy it and she would pass her combat exam.
Once the last grunt fell she dropped her rifle and shouldered her rocket launcher, aiming it directly at the tank.
Panic, hyperventilation, and tunnel vision began to settle in once again. She took deep breaths, focusing on the task at hand and devoting all her concentration to keeping the launcher on target and waiting for the tone to indicate it had locked on to it's target. Her vision began to blur and redden as the seconds wore on, her whole body shivering as she thoughts of her target, what it had done to her body and her mind, how it had changed her...
After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the tone indicating the rocket had locked on.
She took a deep breath, and jerked the trigger twice, sending two rockets streaking towards the tank.
She fought hard to keep the lock on the target, battling her shivering body and shot nerves.
What seemed like minutes, or maybe hours latter they impacted, and exploded in a ball of fire, showering the overpass in holographic debris.
The round ended and the room returned to it's normal shade of prototype white.
She picked up her rifle and exited the room, moderately satisfied with herself. Now all that was left was to talk to one of the high ranking officials that had been watching her and wait to return to active duty.
She entered the observation room wearing her full battle armor and sidearm, eager to impress her superiors with the image of a battle ready Marine.
A Brigadier General with a perfect flat-top haircut and freshly ironed set of fatigues who's name tape read Polaski approached her. He was flanked by several high ranking officers and NCOs, including a Lieutenant Colonel and a Sergeant Major.
She saluted him crisply.
"Impressive job Corporal," he said as he returned her salute, "You did the Corps proud."
"Thank you sir," she responded with a smile, "am I clear to return to active duty sir?"
He frowned, and looked down at her legs, shaking his head.
Before his response even left his mouth Willow began to see red. He couldn't seriously deny her the ability to serve after that performance. Could he?
"I'm sorry Corporal, but you've been through enough as it is. Technically I could clear you to return to active duty, but it's up to me to assign you to a post and I can't allow someone in your mental and physical condition to serve in combat."
"What?" She asked in rage, "you've got to be kidding me!"
The General glared at her. "Mind your place Marine. If you'd rather pull guard duty on a deep space listening post for the rest of your career, that can be arranged."
She nodded and looked slightly towards the floor. "Yes sir. Sorry sir."
His expression softened momentarily as he saw the state she was, and he lowered his voice if only slightly. "Corporal, you've been through a lot. There's no reason for you to go rushing back to the front line so soon. I've petitioned to keep you in the ODST's, but you'd be a liability in combat, and I won't put other Marines in danger because of your need for revenge. Now go home, get some rest, and think this over. Dismissed."
She saluted him begrudgingly and turned to leave as quickly as she could. It would only be a matter of time until Sean found her, and he was the last person she wanted to see right now.
As soon as she returned home she fell down onto her couch and buried her face in her hands.
Thoughts, painful thoughts of a life with missing limbs and all of the things it would keep her from doing blazed through her head like a wildfire. The thoughts made her chest feel hopelessly painful, like a rubber bullet had caved in her sternum.
Those thoughts, those vile thoughts about a way out of this pain forever circled her head.
At first she fought them, trying as hard as she could to remind herself of the things she had to live for, but as the pain grew, the thoughts of what she could lose shrunk.
She couldn't live like this.
What the Covenant had done to her was to much for her to bear, and if she couldn't get revenge on them then there was no need for her to continue to suffer.
She walked to her closet and pulled out a small box. It contained an M6 handgun that had belonged to her father during his time in the Marine Corps. It had served him faithfully for years, now it only had one use left.
She loaded it, cambered a round, and pressed it to her temple.
She tried to calm herself. Everything would be over soon. She wouldn't feel sad or empty or lonely or broken any longer.
She took a deep breath, and willed herself to squeeze the trigger.
"Willow. Stop!" She heard someone say just as she was about to do it.
She peeled her eyes open and found Sean looking at her with his hands out towards her. She must have left her door open in her haste and he had walked in to find her like this.
"Willow, put the gun down, you don't need to do this."
That simple comment infuriated her and made the her rage grow even further.
"How can you say that?" She shot back, tapping the muzzle of the gun against her head, "you don't know a thing about me. You don't know why I have to fight. You never will!"
She pressed it to her head harder and tried to shut Sean out.
"Please think about what you're doing," he pleaded, stepping slightly towards her, but she just pressed the gun harder to her head, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.
"You don't have to do this, I can't get you help, I promise."
"Im beyond all help!" She said, gesturing to her legs, "can't you see that?"
"No, Willow, please, you can't," pleaded Sean, the sadness evident in his voice.
"And why can't I?"
A single tear fell down his cheek as he looked at Willow and the state she was in.
"Willow, Please, don't do this..."
For the first time in their confrontation Willow looked Sean dead in the face, and what she found made her resolve all but shatter.
She stopped almost dead in her tracks as she watched the sadness and anguish in his expression. His expression in that moment clearly showed just how much he cared about her.
But how could he care for her so deeply her after all she and done to him?
Her hand began to shake. Half of her body was telling her to pull the trigger, while the other half pleaded with her not to.
"Willow, please give me the gun," said Sean one last time.
Willow closed her eyes, and tensed, ready to pull the trigger. She let out a pained cry, and dropped her hand to her side, letting the gun clatter to the floor.
Sean rushed over to her as she burst into tears and dropped to her knees, kicking away the gun and wrapping her in a restraining hug.
"It's ok," he whispered to her, "it's all going to be ok."
Her mind was absolutely frozen, and she couldn't think straight at all. Her adrenaline was pumping and tears streamed down her face like a river.
"Sean, I'm sorry," she barely managed to say.
He quieted her and pulled her closer.
"You have nothing to apologize for," he said firmly, "everything's going to be fine."
He wasn't about to let her go, and she didn't fight his grip. They stayed like that for than a long while as Sean tried to calm Willow to a coherent state.
When she had finally calmed down he released her from his grasp and took her by her wrists. He was still afraid she might try and hurt herself again.
She rested her forehead against his.
How could he care about someone so broken as her? How could anyone care about someone who treated them so poorly? She hadn't had a kind word to say about Sean for days. She wasn't about to pretend that wouldn't cause her to hate someone.
When Willow finally collected herself enough to speak, her voice was hoarse, and she was barely able to speak above a whisper.
"Sean I, I don't want to do that again. It felt awful."
He moved a hand to the back of her head and rubbed gently, soothing her.
"We'll get you help," said Sean, "you'll be just fine. You won't have to go through any of that ever again."
"Help?" She asked in panic, "No. No one can know."
She tried to recoil away from Sean, but he held her tight to his chest.
He didn't understand. No one could know she had tried to do that. They would never let her serve again. She couldn't have something like this on her record if she wanted to have a chance to stay in the Marine Corps.
"Willow!" He said forcefully, looking her dead in the eye.
The unnatural force of his voice caused her to stop struggling.
His eyes were almost angry, but not quite. More just, passionate. Passionate about her, and about her wellbeing.
"You are getting help. I'm not letting you take your own life. I can't..."
Again the anguish returned to his face at the thought of seeing her dead.
The way he said that was unlike Sean had ever spoken to her before. It wasn't gentle, but it also wasn't cruel or cold in any way. For God knows what reason, he really did care for her.
Part of her still wanted to fight back, to lash out at him for no reason other than to distance herself from the world, but that part of her was overwhelmed quickly.
She opened her mouth, and attempted to speak, but nothing came out.
She cursed, and struggled to try and find words to say what was on her mind, and eventually looked at Sean with an apologetic expression.
He smiled weakly and helped her to her feet, not minding her lack of a response. She was still shaking, and tears were still fresh on her cheeks, but she was calm enough to think and walk.
He drove her to the base's hospital, and got her quickly admitted to the mental health unit. Normally they wouldn't have allowed Sean to accompany her into the hospital, but Willow refused to let him leave and she was so distraught that the doctors thought it best to allow him to accompany her for a short time.
Now Sean held her hand as they sat together on the small hospital bed of the plain, sterile, white room that she was to stay in.
Willow hadn't spoken a word the entire time. Sean couldn't tell if she was sad or angry or somewhere in between, but she didn't seem to be in a good place regardless. He smiled at her the entire time. He didn't particularly feel like smiling, but he knew she may get some comfort out of it, and that was a good enough reason to smile in his book.
The door opened several minutes latter, and in walked a shorter brunette woman in scrubs and a lab coat. Her name tag read McCarthy, and she didn't look surprised to see Willow here.
"Willow?" She asked, prompting her to look up at her, "how are you feeling?"
She bit her lip and returned her gaze to the ground in front of her.
"Terrible," she said, leaving out her usual sarcastic remark.
She looked to Sean.
"Corporal Wilson, you're going to have to leave now. I'm sorry."
He nodded, but Willow gripped his hand even more tightly, not willing to let him go. Worry permeated her expression.
"Sean, if you don't talk to me again after today..." She said before her voice trailed off.
He shook his head and kissed her on the top of her head.
"I won't abandon you Willow. Don't worry. I'll still be here when you get out."
She smiled, and just before he wandered out of her reach, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him deeply. As soon as their lips connected it felt like a thousand pound weight had been lifted from her chest and she could breath again.
It was only when she pulled away that she began to feel a little bit embarrassed about doing that in front of doctor McCarthy, and she ended up looking slightly at the floor after releasing him.
"Goodbye Willow," said Sean with a smile.
"Goodbye," she responded.
Willow never thought she would feel this way, but she was sad to see him go.
"He seems nice," said doctor McCarthy, obviously trying to ease her out of her extremely tense state.
Willow's only response to nod.
Willow and doctor McCarthy talked for nearly an hour after that, mostly about what had happened to her and why.
When the topic of PTSD was brought up, Willow became a bit more apprehensive however. PTSD was a weakness she couldn't allow herself to have, but doctor McCarthy wouldn't hear it.
"You know it's perfectly normal for someone who's been through as much as you have to have a disorder like this," said the doctor, trying to reassure Willow, "there's no shame in it."
Again, Willow didn't respond.
Doctor McCarthy bit her lip as she tried to think of a way to help Willow open up.
"Willow, I know you've been through a lot, but trust me, it's nothing anyone around here hasn't been through and made it out perfectly fine."
Willow switched from her relatively calm state to a more tense, angry one, and glared intensely at doctor McCarthy.
"Oh really? When's the last time you lost your legs?" Asked Willow with an acid tongue.
Doctor McCarthy sighed as thought she was mulling over something before finally speaking.
"I served three tours with the ODSTs Willow, I know what combat looks like," she said in honesty.
Willow couldn't have been more surprised.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" She asked, almost in disbelief.
Doctor McCarthy laughed and smiled. "You wouldn't believe how many Marines I told that to that wouldn't talk to me afterwards. As soon as I tell them I'm one of them they all become embarrassed. They think that I'll judge them for having a disorder, but I promise you I won't. I was just as messed up as you are when I came back from operation: TREBUCHET. I nearly drank myself to death one night, thinking I just couldn't bare the pain of my experience any longer. Needless to say that didn't work out well, and I turned my life around and got my MD to help soldiers like you recover."
Willow was completely stunned, she never expect someone like doctor McCarthy who looked so sweet and kind and small and, well, civilian, to understand her situation.
She opened her mouth, willing herself to speak her mind and get the horrible thoughts that clouded her out, but she found that knowing this didn't make it any easier for her to speak. It was still too hard to face the fears that raged in her mind.
"That doesn't make it any easier to talk about this," Willow conceded.
Doctor McCarthy nodded, "I know. I just hope you know that you don't have to feel embarrassed around me. I understand, really, I do."
Willow smiled slightly.
"Thank you."
Doctor McCarthy smiled right back.
They talked for only a while longer before she left before Willow was left with her thoughts once again.
She knew this wasn't as much of a happy ending as it seemed. Help wasn't as simple as Sean had made it out to be, and both of them knew it. She still had a lot to come to terms with, a lot of pain to overcome and a long recovery to make. She reclined back onto the hospital bed and couldn't shake the thought of what she had almost done.
She had almost ended her life, for good.
She knew that probably even more than the day the Covenant took her legs, this day would change her life forever.
So, that's the story. First one I've completed ever.
I don't think this one counts though...
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. It was hard to write but certainly worth it.