This chapter is a little dark but i do hope you enjoy it!

It's for the better

Chapter 7

Callie's POV

This is my fourth year in the army and I guess I should be thanking every God out there that I'm still in one piece. There have been people who have come and gone, but I'm still here. I was recently promoted to Major and I suppose that's kind of cool. My mind wanders to whether Arizona would think my new title was cool.

Gosh, has it already been three years? Because it feels as if it was just yesterday I sent a single line to Arizona telling her that I wasn't coming back. Not only was it a single-lined letter, I didn't give her any reasons whatsoever. I felt that whatever reason I gave would have been a lame excuse, so I opted for the cowardly way of not giving any reasons at all.

A month after that letter, she sent me a letter. I would be lying if I said I wasn't surprised, because I was expecting her to be angry at me and give me the silent treatment or something, to hate me until she eventually would forget about me. I never opened that letter but I kept it in a small tin box that I brought with me wherever I went. I thought that if I opened it and read what she had to say, I would have changed my mind about staying. So I opted never to open it.

Another letter arrived after the first one, and then another after that. There was a total of 12 letters before she stopped writing completely. I didn't open a single one. I just stared the front of the letter. There was a strange comfort in seeing her beautiful handwriting even if all I could see was Calliope Torres.

After two years in Afghanistan, I was re-posted to Iraq. I had the option of returning back to the US for a week but I turned it down. Sometimes I regret my decision not to go back, other times I think it was for the best really. The only people I send letters to are my parents. Mark has sent me one letter, but I refused to open that too. My parents are questioned why I didn't return after my first year, but they respect me enough to know that they shouldn't press for an answer. My letters to them are mostly the same, the gist being that I'm still alive.

Still alive, but barely living. Is there such a thing? I save lives everyday, but I feel like a fleeting ghost. A nomad moving from space to space, having no real home. My heart is thousands of miles away, with someone who probably hates me for not coming back. I don't blame her, I'd hate me too.

My hands move to the dog tags around my neck. There is my own, stating my name and my blood type and whatever information the army has deemed necessary for those on the battlefield. And then there is Laura's.

Tears begin to form but I pinch myself hard enough to keep them at bay. It's been three years since that incident happened. Three years since it tore my life apart. Three years since I lost my best friend.

I close my eyes and steady my breathing. Its 4.30 in the morning and I need to be up and about soon.

"Callie?"

I open my eyes towards my tent opening and call out to Nathan.

"Yea Nate?"

He unzips the tent and pokes his head in.

"Do you want me to set up the equipment? I think we're heading out for a test run soon." He says this softly because he remembers what day it is. He knows how much today affects me.

Nate is a good man. He understands when to let me have my space, but he knows when I need his companionship.

"I'll help you."

"No way, you just rest up a little bit more and I'll be done before you know it!"

He disappeared before I even got a chance to say anything.

I start to think about the test run. This is the third time this week that we've had a test run with all the equipment. I made sure to clean my gun last night so its good to go. The thought makes me laugh. If someone told me 5 years ago that I would be able to assemble a gun, load it and shoot, I would definitely have told them that they were crazy.

When I decided not to go back to the US I enrolled into the Army full time. I wasn't just playing the medic anymore, I had the added role of a soldier. The training was more than tough, it was excruciating. I wasn't the fittest person out there to be a soldier but I trained hard. Being able to run pretty much a half marathon in less than 2 hours deserves bragging rights ya? But its not a choice for us when we have to run, it's a matter of life and death.

Being in Iraq is no joke. There are ambushes left, right and centre. I have personally been involved in 3. The first one, no one in my platoon died and we suffered a minor blow. A few injuries but no deaths, I patched up most of the soldiers myself. The second one I was out fetching supplies when our camp was ambushed so I suppose lady luck was with me that day. But the third-

"Oi Callie! Get up!"

Nate shakes me out of my thoughts by re-poking his head through the tent. His sea blue eyes are soft and gentle today and his sandy blonde hair was recently cut, making his eyes stand out more than usual.

"I'm up mother."

"Ha Ha. Very funny. Get your ass up."

"Hey, I outrank you! Do you really want to talk to your superior like that?" I joke with my tongue out.

The situation in Iraq is serious, no doubt about that. But the banter between Nate and I is pretty much the only fun I have. Nate is Captain so I outrank him by one rank. I entered the army as a doctor and was automatically ranked Captain. Nate on the other hand has been in the army since he was 24. According to him, life as a lawyer wasn't as glamorous as everyone thought. He was tired of his office job and wanted to do more. When his parents and sister died in a car crash, it was the last straw for him. He felt that he had nothing left in the US so he signed up to the army.

I guess we're similar in that way. Similar in the fact that we both joined the army to find out who the hell we are.

We're close… but we never talk about Arizona. We were out in town one week and got wasted when I told him about Arizona. That was the first and last time we mentioned it. For some strange reason I think he understood that it was just something I couldn't talk about.

Other than the Arizona thing, we chit chat about anything under the sun. From what restaurants we like to dine in, what books we like to read, what kind of music is best to dance to, we got along really well. With Nate as my best friend it wasn't as lonely. It used to be three of us…

I'm reminded again of what day it is today. I refuse to think about it any longer so I step outside.

My army boots trudge along the ground as I make my way towards the leader of our camp, Colonel Henry. He was a buff guy in his 50's who kind of reminded me of Richard Webber, knowing when to give the right advice. With his great leadership, morale was high and we would go to sleep feeling like we did something truly worthwhile.

"Major Torres. I see you're finally up."

"Yes Sir, apologies Sir." At the same time I'm adjusting my gun strap. The Colonel always makes sure that his team are well prepared for anything.

He waves his hand around and dismisses my apology. "We have to be prepared."

"Sir?"

"I received some intelligence the other day about some guerrillas in the area." His face is grim.

We never know when they strike, how many people they bring, what weapons they use. The best tactic is to be ready, because moving camps isn't feasible. We have to protect the village people, innocent people just trying to survive. All other nations have withdrawn their troops so its up to us to protect what we can.

I'm watching Nate talk to a few privates when I hear something rustling.

Suddenly there's a lot of shouting and gun shots can be heard everywhere. Before I know it I'm blasted away by the impact of a grenade. I wasn't hit directly but the force was enough to daze me for a minute. When my sight returns to normal I see Nate and I rush to his side.

"What the hell is going on?" I shout to him.

He doesn't get the chance to answer. Someone manages to wedge a few bullets into his right leg.

I turn towards the areas the shots came from and my finger is about to pull the trigger when I'm stricken from behind. I fall to the ground in an instant.

My vision is hazy but I see feet running towards me. Someone grabbing my hair pulls me up and something is placed over my head to prevent me from seeing anything. Not that I needed it, I pass out from the pain from the blow to the back of my head.

During my last moments of consciousness, as I feel myself being dragged away, there's only one person on my mind.