Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Noah
I bolt up, my t-shirt soaked in sweat and my heart racing, scanning the room, feeling like I’m being watched.
I shake my head, and it takes me a few seconds to realize where I am.
Beside me in a cot bed is Jack, and opposite is Harry, and Brad, and beside Brad, the empty cot where Scotty should be, and then it hits me, making my stomach roll.
I spring out of my cot bed and run to the makeshift bathroom we have outside our tent and hurl the contents of my stomach into the bowl, which at this point is just water.
I haven’t been able to eat since we lost Scotty two days ago.
I fall on my ass and press my back to the wooden panels as I try to calm my breathing.
My hands shake uncontrollably. I close my eyes, but all I see is blood and Scotty’s face.
I bring my hands to my head, hitting my palms against my temples, willing the thoughts to go away.
The burn and the squeeze in my chest feels like I’m being suffocated.
A hand grips my wrist, pausing my movement, and I look up to see Brad’s wild eyes staring back at me.
“I, I can’t, I can’t breathe,” I choke out.
“Fuck.” He takes a seat in front of me and presses the palm of my hand over my heart. “Feel this?” He taps my hand that covers my heart. “You are breathing. I need you to slow it down. Focus on what I’m saying.”
I try, but the noise in my head gets louder; the images are so prominent I can’t erase them.
“Noah, focus,” he yells, tone firm. “You’re safe, and you’re breathing. Take a breath in, one, two, three, four.”
I do as he says.
“And out two, three, four…” I do exactly as he says as he repeats it until I start to feel the tightness in my body begin to slacken. The noise and the images fade, and I feel myself float back into my body.
“Good, good, keep that going,” he praises. When my breathing calms, I let my hands fall into my lap, and an overwhelming wave of emotions hits me all at once. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite down on my bottom lip to hold it in.
“Let it out, Noah. Let it out, buddy,” Brad coaxes.
So, I do.
I let the dam burst and weep like a newborn baby. Brad, all six foot four of him, drags me into his arms and clutches me against his broad chest.
“I know. I fucking know.” His voice cracks, and I feel the vibration in his chest, letting me know he’s crying too.
There are some things in life that are bigger than the fear of any stigma, that are stronger than any training you’ve been through, and this is it.
Nothing could have prepared me for this.
I cry until I feel numb. Until the tears dry up, and Brad never leaves my side. We sit on that dirty bathroom floor all night in companionable silence, until the Afghanistan sun peeks through the tiny window at the top of the wall.
“Thank you,” I mumble. The only words I can find the strength to say, and I know that’s all I need to say. Losing Scotty proved the lengths we’d all go to save each other, to be there for each other. I’d sit beside any one of these men in silence all night if it was what they needed.
“Always,” he says with a weak smile.
Today, we are flying home to prepare for the funeral and say goodbye to our brother, and that thought makes me want to never leave this bathroom.
But Scotty needs us. He deserves a send-off worthy of a war hero.
So, I muster all my strength and drag my ass up off the floor with the help of Brad and get ready to take our Scotty home.