24. Lincoln
24
LINCOLN
The sound of the front door closing hit me square in the chest. I slid down the bedroom door and rested my back against it, closing my eyes. I knew I’d done the right thing by letting Devon go, though it didn’t make it any easier. He had a game tomorrow. He didn’t need to deal with my bullshit.
Shit that I knew was about to get worse.
This panic attack may have calmed a bit, but I wasn’t na?ve enough to think it was over. It had been a long time since I’d had an attack like that. My hands trembled. What would happen when I went back to work? Would I be able to handle it?
When I opened my eyes again, they zeroed right in on the bed. The one place in my apartment that I didn’t want to go anywhere near. If there was one thing that would bring the panic and fear back to the surface, it would be falling into a deep slumber. If I didn’t sleep, the dreams couldn’t take me over. Couldn’t torture me with visions of Matt. Of his eyes rolling in the back of his head as I did everything I could to save him.
Dreams which were so real there were moments I couldn’t always decipher dreams from reality.
I sat against that door and dragged my feet back so that I could rest my arms on my knees. The pain I heard in Devon’s voice made my eyes burn as I held back the tears. Such hurt as he begged me to not push him away. I couldn’t do it to him. The same as I couldn’t do it to my parents when I returned home. I’d made my choice when I decided to join the military, knowing the risks. Not that I expected the outcome, I knew it was a possibility.
I hadn’t lied to Devon.
Sometimes love wasn’t enough.
Ending things now would be better for Devon in the long run. How could I ask him to deal with the fallout from today’s events when he had enough things of his own to handle? Like making it to the playoffs.
I didn’t know how long I sat here. Minutes passed in moments of self-loathing mixed with times trying to convince myself that I’d done the right thing. I missed Devon. I ached for him. His touch, his voice. Things that I had to let go. It was what Devon deserved. If I really loved him, I’d let him live his life and be happy. Something I couldn’t always guarantee.
The sun slipped down slowly, the darkness quickly taking its place. I didn’t bother to move from the floor to turn on a light. I was stuck in the darkness, and I didn’t know if I would ever find the light again. I thought I had, but apparently, I’d been too sure of myself to keep it.
My eyes were heavy, but I kept them open. Staring at the stars. Pinching myself. Anything to avoid what awaited me in sleep.
The heat was absolutely oppressive. Sweat ran down my neck, soaking through my fatigues. We walked through the town, checking out a tip we’d been given about a group of insurgents. Eyes watched us from all directions. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, right before gunshots rang out and burning pain sliced through across my arm.
“Fuck!” I yelled, grabbing my bicep, looking to where the blood saturated my shirt.
Lowering myself to the ground behind some cover, I tugged at the fabric of my ripped sleeve and saw where the bullet grazed my arm. Deep enough to hurt like a motherfucker, but not enough damage that rendered my arm useless.
Screams pierced the air. The nervous energy morphed into sharp focus. I knew I needed to deal with my own wound before I could help anyone else. Using a roll of gauze from my med kit, I wrapped my arm tight enough to stop the bleeding without causing more damage. Satisfied that I could help others without losing too much blood, I grabbed my kit and ran out into the fray. The sound of gunfire surrounded me. It didn’t stop me from moving forward to my teammate, who I could see lying straight in front of me.
I raced to him, the blood pooling on his chest pink and filled with bubbles. When I reached his side and saw his face my heart stopped in my chest.
Matt Creswell.
My ride or die. One of the few people who made being in this place bearable.
His cheeks hollowed as he tried to suck in a breath. I knew he couldn’t. His chest was filling with air from the bullet hole. When I glanced at his face, his eyes captured mine, holding me immobile for a moment. No words were needed. I had to save him.
I went to work. His face took on a gray pallor and his normal vibrant brown eyes were dull. That didn’t stop me. I refused to let him die.
“Stay with me, Matt. You’re going to be fine. I just need you to focus on me. You can’t leave me.”
I yanked the plastic and syringe that were part of the med kit out. Smoke filled my nostrils trying to distract me, but I did my best to push it away. I pulled the syringe of the needle out and glanced up at Matt’s face to see if it had been enough for him to get air into his lungs.
Something wasn’t right.
Everything changed before me. No longer were Matt and me in the middle of the desert. The highway surrounded us. Cars flying by as he lay on the ground by one. People shouted and I looked back down at Matt’s face.
It didn’t matter where the fuck we were, as long as Matt was breathing again.
Matt’s chocolate brown eyes were gone. In their place were the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Almost the color of the ocean.
Shock rendered me frozen.
Devon.
Devon was the one who couldn’t breathe.
Devon had the hole in his chest.
It was Devon I had to save.
I used my hand to cover the wound. Blood spilling from between my fingers. I couldn’t remember what to do. I knew how to save him, but I couldn’t remember.
“No, please,” I begged. “Let me remember how. I can’t lose him. I love him.”
Gurgling noises filled the air.
“No. Devon. Please no. Stay with me.” I held tight to his hand as I kept trying to stop the bleeding with the other. His eyes pleaded with me to help him.
My stomach rolled just as I heard the explosion and felt myself being thrown far away from him.
Too far to help him.
Too far to save him.
My eyes snapped open, darting around the room. Darkness had swallowed it whole. My heart pounded in my chest. I reached up to cover it with my hand, hoping to slow its pace when I realized my shirt was soaked through. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dark. The streetlights outside helped me to make out the furniture in my bedroom.
My muscles shook to the point that I was afraid to stand. That I’d fall flat on my face if I tried. I rolled slightly to the side, trying to grab my phone from my pocket. It was like the weight of an elephant sitting on my chest and pulling in a breath was harder than normal.
I needed to talk to Dr. Dawkins. It had been long enough that I thought maybe I’d gotten to the point where I could move forward. Obviously, that was stupid. I wasn’t ready for anything but more therapy. I rushed and set myself back.
I hit send on the call and lifted the phone to my ear. A sleepy voice answered. “Hello? Lincoln?”
I hadn’t even looked at the time before I dialed, but he knew his patients might call him at any time.
“I can’t do this.”
His voice became clear and concise. “What can’t you do, Lincoln?”
“I can’t save him. Devon. I couldn’t save him.”
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“I tried not to sleep. I tried to stay awake. I knew the memories would chase me in my sleep after the accident.”
“What accident? Where are you?”
I brushed at my face, not sure whether I was wiping away tears or sweat. “At home on my bedroom floor.”
“Stay where you are. I’m on my way over.” I heard the rustling of fabric on the end of the line. The noises continued while I sat in silence. “I want you to stay on the phone with me until I get there. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Following directions was something I could handle. Something I’d been trained to do, even when everything around me was falling apart.
Only a few minutes had passed when he said, “Lincoln, are you still there?” I heard the engine of the car start.
“I’m here.”
“Can you move from where you are?”
I shook my head in the dark. It took Dr. Dawkins saying my name to realize that I hadn’t answered him out loud. “I’m afraid if I stand my knees will give out on me.”
“Take a deep breath.”
I tried pulling in a lungful of air, but my chest tightened up. “Can’t. It hurts.”
“Lincoln. Take a deep breath.” The cadence of his voice changed. And like I’d been instructed to scrub the floor during boot camp, I sucked in a long, needed breath, blowing it out loudly into the phone. “Now, another.”
I did it again. Each time I blew out the air, Dr. Dawkins instructed me to do it again. With every breath, my chest loosened and breathing became less of an effort. Slowly, my muscles trembled less, and my mind cleared.
“Thanks.” I pushed off the floor to my feet.
“You know we’re not done yet. Go splash some water on your face, then let me in.”
I dropped the phone from my ear and glanced down at the time, shocked that I’d been on the phone with Dr. Dawkins long enough for him to drive to my place without even realizing it. I walked to the bathroom and turned on the water. I didn’t bother warming it. The cold water would keep me grounded in reality.
I’d barely dried my face when I walked through my bedroom to the front door. The moment I opened it, Dr. Dawkins stepped inside and shut it behind him.
“Let’s sit and you can tell me about the accident.”
With my mind clearer than when I first called him, I was able to lead him over to the couch. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Lincoln, sit down. You just worked through one of the worst panic attacks you’ve had in over a year and a half. This isn’t a social call. You need to work through the emotions and fears hanging over you.”
I dropped down onto the couch. He was right. I was hiding behind formalities. Better than having to talk about the images from my nightmare that still paraded through my mind, no matter how much I wanted them to disappear. “Devon and I were almost in an accident earlier on the way to the movies. We weren’t hit, but the other cars weren’t so lucky.”
Dr. Dawkins sat down next to me. “Did you get out to help?”
“I couldn’t just leave them there dying.”
“What did you see?”
I knew this was the question I couldn’t avoid. With my stomach in my throat, I told him about the man with the metal bar in his chest. What it took to save him. Dr. Dawkins knew what happened to Matt. Knew I tried to save him before the IED exploded. He’d knew exactly what caused the panic attack.
When I finished, he watched me for a moment. “And your dream was about Matt?”
I shook my head. “Yes and no. It was different. It started out like the others from that day, but then the whole dream shifted, and I found myself kneeling on the side of the road next to Matt. Only it wasn’t Matt. It was Devon.” My eyes blurred as I remembered the pain and pleading in his gaze. “But I couldn’t help him.” I pulled my feet onto the couch and wrapped my arms around my legs as the first sob tore from my throat. “I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t remember how.”
I repeated myself over and over again. Dr. Dawkins wrapped an arm around my shoulders and whispered that Devon was fine. That it wasn’t him on the road today. He said I’d saved a man’s life. All the things I should have needed to hear.
Except the pained blue gaze in my memories taunted me.
Eventually, I calmed and was able to pull in a shuttering breath. Dr. Dawkins didn’t move until my breathing calmed and I was able to release the grip I had on my legs, breaking my small cocoon.
“Lincoln, where is Devon?”
“I sent him home.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Sent him home for the night or for good?”
“For good. He deserves better than me. I’m never going to have a normal life. Even when it seems in reach, my head fucks it up.”
He watched me for a long moment. “We’re not going to deal with that tonight. Right now, I want you to get some sleep.” He looked toward the window in the kitchen where the sun had already started to peek over the horizon. “Do you feel up to coming to my office tomorrow?”
“I’ll be fine.” The normal line rolled right off my tongue. It was the line I gave everyone to keep from dragging them into my mess.
“You’re not. And it’s time to realize that you can’t keep fighting this battle alone. Tonight’s events are making it seem like you’ve made the right decision all these years by keeping yourself closed off, but all I can see is how different tonight could have gone if you had let someone in.”
I opened my mouth to argue. To tell him that he was wrong, but he stopped me when he held up his hand.
“Let’s leave this discussion for tomorrow, or I should say today. I feel like it’s safe to leave you and let you get some sleep. You’ve talked about it, which you know is the first step in dealing with your demons. Sleep and we’ll speak later when you come to my office.”
After I showed Dr. Dawkins out, I wandered back to my bedroom and stripped down to my boxers. The all-consuming fear I’d felt earlier had disappeared and been replaced with a dull ache. Devon had taken a part of my heart when he walked out the door.
Settled in my bed, still afraid to close my eyes, I picked up my phone and dialed my sister. Maybe Dr. Dawkins was right. The phone rang a few times before a groggy voice answered.
“Lincoln?”
I said words to my sister that I never thought I would allow myself to say. “I need you.”
“I’m on my way.”