Bobby Meets His Match- Chapter 8
Sorry it has taken me so long to write this, but I haven't felt much like writing. I wrote this chapter, in particular, to reflect my utmost respect for and gratitude to those who endure unthinkable horrors of war in service of their country. Even those who survive often pay a terrible price.
Please leave feedback, as I live for it.
Bobby was so fucking tired he couldn't move if the place was on fire. He closed his eyes, and lulled by the soft breathing of the woman next to him, he fell asleep.
The sound of soft breathing was replaced by that of the ragged, gasping breaths being taken by the Lt. with a gaping wound in his thigh. Bobby yelled at one of the men to come help him as he frantically applied pressure, trying to stop the man from bleeding out under him. " Its ok, sir, you're going to be ok, " he whispered to the man, who was only barely conscious. Bobby knew it was a lie, so did the Lt. Blood continued to pour out from the ruptured artery in the man's leg even as Bobby leaned all his weight on the man, trying desperately to increase the pressure and apply a tourniquet to his mangled leg. But even as he leaned over he saw the man's pupils fix and his body stopped moving its horrible rasping for air went completely silent. Bobby rapidly felt for a pulse, but he knew that his Lt. was already gone. Bobby met the young Marine's eyes and saw his own anger and frustration reflected there. It was his job to keep his team alive, and he wasn't doing a very fucking good job of it.
Bobby got up and looked around him at the rest of his small squad. His eyes filled with tears momentarily as he looked at them. The lifeless bodies of men who had been his teammates and friends were scattered all over the ground, bloody and broken. The six men in his squad had been tasked with ridding this area of tangos, but they had been ambushed almost as soon as they had inserted into the area. Someone had been tipped off that they were coming, and a sniper was there at the ready. Four of his squad had been killed almost instantly as they came off the chopper. The helo of course, left immediately, not wanting to get shot down, either. He'd tried to save everyone of his wounded men , but with the primitive conditions in this sandy hellhole and the powerful ammunition that had been designed to do maximum damage when it shot into their bodies had gotten the better of even his skills, and one by one they had died.
Now it was just he and Tim, the young Marine, who looked about 19, and whose fear surrounded him like a miasma. It was down to the two of them. The helo had radioed for their backup, but until the damn tangoes could be taken out and the anti-aircraft missiles destroyed, Bobby and Tim were on their own. Bobby's own fear had been squelched long ago. Fear did no good in a place like this. It only paralyzed you. He had long ago learned to recognize the fear, quickly compartmentalize it, and focus on what had to be done to stay alive. Tim was looking at Bobby, as the experienced one, for direction. To keep him alive. Tim was looking at him with such trust, oblivious to the fact that Bobby had failed the rest fo the squad.
Bobby and Tim split up to try to clear the tangos out of this immediate building. If they could rid this immediate area of them, they may be able to use this half demolished building as cover and hold out until reinforcements arrived. Bobby took a moment to listen, his assault rifle held high, his finger on the trigger, ready to send round after round rapid fire into any tango that crossed his path. He crept silently towards the front of the structure, but had to duck back into cover as rounds went flying past his head. Shit. There were more tangos than he had anticipated. He occasionally would dart out from behind his cover to unleash another hail of bullets at his attackers. He knew he'd hit at least three of them, but the bullets kept coming. Fuck.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Tim, behind cover across the structure, also engaged in a firefight with several tangos on his side of the structure. Bobby could tell that Tim hadn't had much experience under these conditions. Tim was staying too long out of cover, and his shots were going wild. Bobby had temporarily rid himself of his group, and was now moving slowly and silently in a crouch, to where Tim was still under fire, to give him a hand.
He was just a few steps away and had taken out two of Tim's aggressors, when time seemed to stop. He saw Tim, as if in slow motion, pop out from cover at the exact same time as a tangoe was raising his gun. Bobby could see what was going to happen, but was helpless to stop it. " Get down," he yelled, as he fired on the enemy. But the tango had gotten one shot off before Bobby's bullet hit him point blank in the head. Bobby yelled as he saw Tim, crumple to the ground, a look of surprise on his face. He ran over to him, but Tim had died instantly. "Fuck," Bobby whispered to himself, wanting to scream it and take out all these fuckers. The shooting had stopped momentarily as the bad guys regrouped. But Bobby knew it would soon start again. The tangos wouldn't rest until all the American were dead. Bobby was alone now, and he had to stay alive until backup came so he could get himself and his buddies out of there. They had never left anyone behind, Bobby wasn't going to start now.
Bobby left Tim's side, and found a secluded corner from which he had an obstructed view of the entire area. He reloaded his rifle and checked the clip on his sidearm, cursing the fact that he didn't have any grenades with him. He took a deep breath and centered himself, carefully listening. The structure was silent, filled as it was with mostly the dead. But Bobby could hear footsteps approaching and was picking off insurgents as they walked by. He had enough ammo that he could keep this up for awhile. As long as they didn't find him. His muscles were rigid and stiff, his mind alert, ready to head off any threat and do whatever it took to get out of here alive. He owed it to his men to kill all these fuckers for them. Bobby barely even breathed. All his attention was focused on holding off the tangoes, and he couldn't focus in all directions. He had just finished blowing a giant hole in another tango, when he heard a slight sound behind him and, before his mind had even registered the threat, he felt a hand fall on his shoulder. He instantly sprang…
Bobby was shocked to find himself looking into a set of beautiful, terrified green eyes, he realized that his naked body was completely pinning not a terrorist , but a woman, he had the length of his arm under her chin, against her neck, ready to choke her, beginning to apply pressure, when…what the fuck? He froze for a moment, his eyes looking into her terrified green ones , his mind desperately trying to remember where he was, and what the hell was going on. It took him a second to realize that , no he wasn't back there in the heat of combat, he was here, in bed with, and currently almost choking, the woman of his dreams.
As soon as the realization hit him, he instantly removed his arm and jumped off of her and across the bed. 'oh, fuck, I am so sorry… did I hurt you?," he asked, his eyes anguished. He didn't see any bruises thank God. What the fuck kind of asshole was he? He had nearly choked her to death. He had slowly moved towards her to touch her, to make sure he hadn't hurt her. " Did I hurt you?" he asked again, horrified, thankful that he had come back to his senses before he had applied any real pressure to her throat. He didn't think he'd hurt her but he had probably terrified the hell out of her. Fuck.
Bobby saw her sit up, rubbing her throat, terror and confusion still in her green eyes.
" No, no I'm ok," she said, in a shaky voice. She was looking at him with an odd expression on her face. She didn't seem scared anymore, only confused and concerned. Bobby was still trembling with the enormity of what had almost happened. He leaned against the nightstand, hunched over, his head in his hands, his body intensely rigid as he wrestled with his fear, anger, and intense shame.
Cathy crawled across the bed and started to reach for him. " Don't touch me," he managed to mumble brusquely to her. He didn't want her touching him until he had gotten complete control of himself. He didn't want her to think he was any more of an evil monster than she already did. He would never purposely lay a hand on a woman, and certainly not Cathy. He kept his head in his hands and tried to calm himself, to get his rigid muscles to relax. He knew he should never have spent the night here. Could he have possibly have fucked this up any more than he did?
Cathy had backed off physically, but said, " Bobby, are you ok?" He had to laugh at the irony of that. He had attacked her and SHE was asking HIM if he was ok. She was so sweet. No, he wasn't ok. He was mortified, ashamed, and embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm ok," he said, turning towards her but not making eye contact. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes. She had trusted him, and he had almost…
He didn't want to look at her , but he knew she deserved some explanation, lame as it was. His eyes darted up to hers, then quickly down again." Are you sure you're um, ok…". She nodded again. "I'm fine," she said. Again his eyes met hers briefly, " I am so sorry. I get these dreams sometimes…and then I get…" he tapered off, not knowing what else to say.
He was now going around the room, gathering his clothes, quickly putting them on. He wanted to get her to a hospital, to make absolutely sure he hadn't damaged the fragile area of her throat, and then get the hell away from her. This was why he fucking couldn't let himself get close with women. Fuck. He now had absolutely no chance with this beautiful woman that he really liked. He finished dressing rapidly, feeling tears well up in his eyes.
He looked at her briefly again. He couldn't bear the thought that he might have hurt her physically. He knew he had already hurt her emotionally. " Um, I have to go. I can take you to the ER, or, um, if you don't want to go with me, I can get you an ambulance." He just wanted the fuck out of here. She shook her head, "Bobby , no. Honestly, I'm fine. I don't need an ER or an ambulance." Here eyes were filled with unshed tears and he wasn't sure if they were from fear or from sadness.
"Well, I,,am so fucking sorry. And I really like you. The sex and um, everything else was amazing , before…" he realized he sounded like a moron, so he shut up. He was heading towards the door. "Please get checked out and let me know if you are ok. And again, I am so sorry." He had to get the fuck out of here NOW. He knew he had blown it, and he would never see her again. Hell, he'd be lucky if she didn't file assault and battery charges against him. He'd deserve it. It was almost unbearable, since he liked her so much.. His eyes welled with tears and he hurried through the door before she could see them fall.
Lester had had duty with Bobby for two days now, and he didn't think Bobby had said even ten words to him in all that time. Not that Les and Bobby were big talkers, but Bobby could usually be counted on to exchange banter back and forth. But other than the basic, necessary exchanging of information about the mission, he had clamed up completely. He hadn't even smiled and hugged Steph in the mornings like he always does, only muttering a "hi." in response to her greeting.
Lester hadn't even gotten the details of the night Bobby had spent at Cathy's a couple of nights ago, but judging by Bobby's foul mood since then, things hadn't gone well. Les assumed they had gotten it on, but he knew that Bobby had been trying to prevent his "problem" from occurring. He guessed it was safe to assume that bad stuff had happened.
" So, are you ever going to tell me if your sleep deprivation plan worked the other night at Cathy's? Les prodded.
Bobby was wearing dark shades as he drove the Rangeman vehicle down the highway. Other than occasional glances in the rearview, Bobby's gaze never left the road. He didn't even turn his head Les's way.
"No," was all he said.
Bobby didn't want to talk about what had happened. How badly he had blown it with the woman of his dreams. How he had accidentally almost fucking KILLED her. How much he ached when he listened to the message on his voicemail, telling him that she had seen her regular doctor and was truly all right. How he'd seen her number flashing on his cell screen and deliberately let it go to voicemail because he didn't know what the hell to say to her? How much he wanted her, but now that she'd seen what a mess he was she'd never want him.
Lester never knew when to give up. " Come on, man, I'm your best friend. We should be sharing all the details."
"Les, shut. The . Fuck. Up. " Bobby said, his voice filled with warning.
Les knew he could be an asshole sometimes, but Bobby was his best friend. He loved him in that manly, camaraderie sort of way. He knew bad shit must have happened that night. And he knew that Bobby was probably embarrassed and ashamed, and bummed that he'd scared of she who was obviously his soul mate. Plus, Les could relate, because, well, he had been through similar shit and he still had dreams about it too.
Bobby had parked on the street about two blocks down form the house where the skip lived. "It'll make you feel better if you talk about it," Les chided.
That got him a sidelong glance. "What are you suddenly Dr. Fucking Phil?" Bobby retorted. " You want to know what happened. Fine. I'll tell you what happened. I went over, I had the most fucking amazing sex of my life with a woman I've completely fallen for. Then, I had a nightmare and attacked her and almost accidentally killed her, thus ruining any chance I might have had with the only woman I've ever felt this way about. Now, are you happy now?'
Shit. Lester had been afraid it was something like that. He had no fucking idea what to say. He knew how much Bobby had liked Cathy.
"Sorry, man, that sucks," was all he could manage to come up with, as he clapped Bobby's shoulder in a show of masculine sympathy. He knew Bobby was probably embarrassed and ashamed. He'd have to get him shitfaced drunk after work to make him forget his troubles.
Two hours later, Lester and Bobby returned to Rangeman, having caught their skip, deposited him at the police station, and collected the fee. There had been no more discussion of Bobby's issue after his blowup, and Bobby had gone back to impersonating a clam.
They checked in at the control center and Bobby was heading off to his apartment. Ranger motioned him over. He was grinning. " Hey Bobby, that cute redhead , Cathy, we met the other night on the call. The one with the twisted ankle. " Bobby nodded. Ranger went on, grinning, oblivious to Bobby's recent dealings with Cathy. " You must have made quite an impression, because she came here looking for you. She said she has been trying to contact you for two days but couldn't get in touch with you. So she came here, demanding to see you." Hal chimed in, " Yeah, when we told her you were out on an assignment and to call later, she said, she'd wait." Hal got a goofy grin on his face, " She's waiting for you now in the conference room."
She was waiting for him in the conference room? Bobby wasn't sure if he wanted to run towards her or run away.
