Screams tore through the air, filling the desert with sounds of pain that were only barely muffled by nearby explosions. Sand choked all who tried to breathe it, including one small figure hunched on the ground. Her brown hair was a tangled mess, falling over a filthy face, streaked with dirt and blood. Her fatigues were ripped and practically soaked in crimson liquid. She was curled around a small body, sobs heaving her frame as she fought to see through the smoke and sand.
She screamed for help but no one could hear her over the noise. Looking around, she saw the members of her team sprawled on the ground around her, unmoving. She uncurled from the dead child and crawled over to one of the bodies. Sargent James Buchannan, her commanding officer and longtime friend, lay on the sand, body ripped nearly in two by an IED.
Hands shaking, she reached out for him as the world burned around her. Grief and fear and panic welled in her throat, constricting her airways, and she sobbed brokenly.
Hands touched her and she lashed out-
-striking her boyfriend in the chest as she woke up. She flipped him and had him pinned before she realized where she was.
He watched her with wary eyes as she pulled back. “You were crying in your sleep.” The ‘again’ went unsaid and she flinched slightly.
“Sorry Jacob,” she said softly. “I had another nightmare.”
“It’s okay,” he assured her, but she knew it wasn’t. She knew he was getting frustrated with the sleepless nights and the panic attacks.
So it shouldn’t have surprised her two weeks later when he walked out on her, saying, ‘I’m sorry Aubrey, but you just aren’t the girl I fell in love with anymore. You’ve changed.’
She wanted to scream at him, to tell him of course she’d changed. War changes people. She’d have liked to see him go through that and come out the same. But she held her tongue and retreated inside, pulling out her phone and dialing a number from memory.
“’Llo,” a sleepy voice murmured from the other end, despite the fact that it was early afternoon.
“James.”
“What’s wrong Aubrey,” he asked immediately. That was one of the things she loved about him. He always seemed to know just what she needed. “Do you need me to come over?”
She paused, unsure, and he picked up on it. “I’m coming over. Give me half an hour.”
Exactly half an hour later, Aubrey’s doorbell rang and she opened it to see a decidedly rumpled looking James Buchannan. He pulled her in to a hug before she could even open her mouth, holding her close and wrapping his larger frame almost completely around her. She collapsed against him, allowing herself to take comfort in his solid (alive) form.
After a moment, she pulled back and looked him over more closely. Despite looking like he just rolled out of bed, he seemed well. Of the survivors, she had been most worried about him adjusting to civilian life, but he’d taken to it like a fish to water. Much unlike she had.
He looked her up and down with similar interest, a little furrow between his brows. “What’s wrong, kitten?”
She just shook her head and gestured for him to come inside. James slid past her but waited before moving farther in to the house. She led them in to the sitting room and sank down on one of the couches. James carefully eased himself down next to her, eyes on her face.
“Will you tell me now?” he asked.
She took a breath. “Jacob left,” she started. Her friend tensed next to her and she pushed on before he could respond. “He said he couldn’t deal with me anymore, that I wasn’t the same. But that’s not the reason I called. The dreams are getting worse. It’s almost every night now. And I think I’ve started dissociating or something. I’ve had… blank spots. Moments were I just zone out.”
James didn’t say a word for a long time, just watching her. Finally, he leaned back against the couch. “You should get a dog.”
She stared at him, confused and a little shocked. “A dog?”
“Yeah. They’ve got dogs for people with PTSD. I’ve heard they can help cope.” Aubrey made a little noise and James shot her a look. “Well, Jacob isn’t here anymore, not that he was helping much anyway, and you need someone around. You shouldn’t be by yourself. Even if your watcher is decidedly not human.”
Aubrey crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t need a watcher,” she said mulishly.
“Perhaps not, but I think you want the company. ‘Else you wouldn’t have called me. Not to mention, what if you have one of your little episodes while you’re cooking or something? You could seriously hurt yourself.”
Aubrey glared at him for a moment longer before she sighed and relaxed. He was right, of course. She was self-aware enough to realize that she posed a genuine threat to herself like this. She sat back against the cushions.
“A dog, huh?”
***
Her heart lurched in her throat when the bomb went off. It was close enough that she could feel the heat of the blast on her face, searing off the tears and sweat. There had been civilians in that building, people she was responsible for. People she’d let die because of a stupid mistake.
She dropped to her knees and clutched her head in her hands, shaking. Something warm and wet touched the side of her face-
Aubrey jerked awake to a rueful whine and a furry head shoved under her hand. Adrenaline coursed through her veins but she forced herself to take deep breaths. Her hand moved unconsciously on the black lab’s head, scratching behind his hears. He nuzzled in to her hand, whining again.
“I’m fine, Skipper,” she murmured, leaning forward to bury her face in his warm fur. “Thank you.”
When she’d first got the lab, she wasn’t sure how things would work out. She’d never really been a dog person, but the people at the training facility assured her that having a service dog could really assist her in recovery. And she was tired of waking up in the middle of the night to a panic attack. At least when Skipper was there, she had someone she knew cared to hold close.
And he really had been a help. He checked rooms before she entered and kept people from crowding too close on the streets. When she had flashbacks, he knew how to gently bring her out of them without triggering any violent reactions. If she showed signs of distress while she was sleeping, he could wake her from her nightmares.
Things were still immensely difficult, but she could see how his presence was affecting her. She knew she’d have to actually work on her problems sooner or later, but Skipper gave her a moment to breath, a moment to get her life back together.
The sound of her cell phone broke her out of her thoughts and she reached across the bed to grab it. ‘Eve’ flashed across the screen while some annoying pop song blared from the tiny speaker. Aubrey rolled her eyes but answered.
“Hello Eve,” she started blandly. “I hope you have a good reason for calling at this ungodly hour.” Skipper looked up at her, tail wagging, and Aubrey couldn’t help her smile.
“Bree! I didn’t wake you, did I?” Came her chirpy response.
“No, I was already up.” Aubrey shifted on the bed, sitting upright and crossing her legs. A call this late could only mean one of two things. Either Eve was drunk and needed a ride home, or she’d gotten arrested. Again.
“Good, great, awesome. So I had an idea earlier-“
“I already don’t like where this is going,” Aubrey interrupted.
“Shush you. So anyway, I had an idea. Remember how I told you I had that friend? Alan? Well, as it turns out, he’s desperately single. And it’s been ages since you broke up with Jacob so I figured you might want to get out a bit.”
Well, that settled it. If she was trying to hook Aubrey up with her college roommate, she was definitely drunk. Aubrey sighed. “It’s only been two months. That’s after being together for four years. I think I’m justified in staying single for a while.”
“Oh come on,” Eve protested. “You need a man in your life.”
Aubrey chuckled and reached out to stroke Skipper, who’d crawled forward to lay his head in her lap. His tail thumped against the matress and he turned his head to lick at her fingers.
“I’ve already got all the man I need.”
“No, your dog doesn-“ she started.
“Good bye Eve.” Aubrey hung up the phone and shook her head. Sometimes she wondered why she put up with these people.
Skipper barked quietly and jumped up, licking her face. “Yes, yes, we can go for a walk,” she laughed, pushing him away.
As she stood and wandered in to the front hall to find his leash, she realized with a start just how content she was. Maybe things would be okay.
Skipper barked again and ran up to her, tail wagging so fast it almost seemed to blur.
“Alright, alright. Hold your horses.”
Maybe they would.