Chapter 26
Victor
“Hey Kid! I know, brother, but I figured you’d be up working on that junker already. Huh? I bet I’m right.” He laughs, but it sounds forced.
Rolling my eyes, I concede, “Yeah, yeah, so what? I had a rough night’s sleep last night, so I just figured I would get up and do something productive.” I put Cookie on speaker phone and roll under the Camino.
“A rough night? You still not taking care of my woman, Kid?” Always with the jokes.
“Nah, Cook, actually things look like they’re moving in a better direction with us. It’s slow going, but definitely looking up.” I know he can hear the relief in my voice.
“Well, shit, then why are you in the fucking garage and not still in bed with her, dumbass? Need me to teach you a few things?” His laugh comes a little easier this time.
“Baby steps, Cook. You know how it goes.”
A sigh escapes through the phone, followed by silence. “Still got those nightmares?” All joking is gone from his voice now.
Cookie knows I’ve worked through a lot of my post-traumatic stress over the last couple of years, trying to be better for the family and myself, I guess, but he also knows that there’s one event I can’t seem to shake.
“Yeah, I’m doing everything the shrink told me to, but it’s just hard to get past that one.
” Cookie and I were the first two of the five of us on Alpha team; Ty, Wolf, and D came on about six months to a year after us.
We had only been on the team about six months under the team leader we called Bishop.
On our first deployment with the team, Cookie and I were caught under fire and separated from the other three guys.
When they came back for us, their Humvee was hit by an RPG, and two of them died on impact. Bishop was still alive, but had severe damage from the waist down. He wasn’t gonna make it, but Cookie and I dragged him to a hiding spot and sat with him, talking to him until he took his last breath.
Cookie and I tried to recover the other bodies, but couldn’t without losing our lives as well. The recovery team eventually went back out to bring them back to base.
The head-doc says it’s survivors’ guilt combined with what she later diagnosed as complex-PTS.
Basically, a fucking casserole of bad shit floating around in my head that I have to figure out coping skills for.
Cookie and I just see it as daily operations when you do what we did for so long.
But that first mission fucked us up pretty bad.
Cookie and I have our individual shit as well, but we both still have nightmares about Bishop. Every therapy session, exercise, and treatment I’ve done still can’t prevent those intrusive thoughts from showing up whenever they feel like it.
“Yeah, Kid, I have those too. I don’t really wake up screaming anymore, but sometimes,” Cookie gets quiet again.
I stay quiet and give him space to talk.
“Sometimes I wake up in the middle of us fighting for our lives in a dream and don’t realize where I am until it’s too late.
” My face is covered in confusion at his words.
“What do you mean, too late, Cook?” More silence.
“Eh,” he chuckles, “don’t worry about it, brother, I don’t mean to shit on your day before it starts.
” He’s trying to lighten the convo. “Anyway, I gotta run. I just called to tell you that the wife and I were talking about coming back out to see you all again this summer after the kids get out of school.” Cookie has two teenagers of his own.
“Yeah, for sure, man. We’d all love that. School here will be out in about three months. I’ll let Gabbi know and we can all plan another get-together, maybe longer than a weekend this time.”
“For sure. Gotta run, Kid. Don’t let those nightmares get you down, brother. Oh, and take care of my girl.” There he goes, laughing at his own jokes again.
“Cook, you got your own wife, fuck off.” A small chuckle slips from my lips.
“I only fuck with you because you get so butthurt. You know my woman is sat-is-fied!! Later.” A few more chuckles and the call ends.
A small sound comes from the garage steps, and I slide out from under the car to see Gabbi sitting on them with a coffee cup in her hand and one set down by her feet. “Hey, G.” My voice is small. “How much of that did you hear?” I hope nothing.
“I didn’t know you were still having nightmares.
” She looks down at her coffee. “You wanna tell me about them?” Gabbi reaches out to hand the other cup of coffee to me as I sit down next to her on the stairs.
My initial reaction is to shut down the conversation, but I go against my better judgment and tell her about Bishop and that first mission.
She’s experienced my nightmares, but I’ve never actually told her about them.
I guess I just didn’t want to burden her.
Gabbi asks a lot of questions. Some of which I don’t particularly want to answer because I don’t want her to form visuals in her head that are anything close to mine.
She didn’t know the rest of the team, but she knew Bishop and Cookie. Bishop had come to introduce himself before we deployed and told Gabbi he would do his best to get me home safely. Just too bad I couldn’t do the same for his wife and three kids.
Gabbi and I sit in comfortable silence, drinking our coffee after I unload my nightmare battles on her.
“Thanks for telling me, Vic. I know that wasn’t easy.
Will you do me a favor?” I look at her and nod once.
“If you figure out a way I can help or support you, please let me know. I know I can’t fix anything, but I can at least be here for you however you need me.
” I give her a small smile and wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her head to mine.
“Sure thing, G.”