"I survived because

the fire inside me burned

brighter than the fire around me."

-Joshua Graham.

 WYATT

WYATT

Adjusting back to civilian life has proven itself difficult. Even though I couldn't serve my full tour while I was deployed, I spent every second of my time on guard, looking over my shoulder -naturally tense and to be honestly slightly on edge. Some nights, I would rest sitting up ready to slip on my boots at any given moment. Life is too easy here, hell too quiet. Sure, I'm busy with appointments and therapy, that at times can be a lot to handle, with the fifty questions and discomfort of physical therapy but it all seems motionless. I can ride around carefree and walk into buildings without clearing the area. We can drive the highway without dodging every inch of debris. But I guess this is the luxury we fight for.

Hitting a piece of rubber, food wrappers, or an empty coke can won't blow us up. Not like last time. A fucking coke can.

Bullets soared through the sky, causing the Humvee to fill with high pitched screeches as each slug hurtled by, slicing the air leaving hammered grooves as they ruthlessly clashed against the metal frame, embedding themselves into the interior doors.

"Hardin! look out!"

"Katie! Duckkk!"

But it was too late, a loud boom rippled over the air, as the ear blasting sound wave carried up the dusty and sand coated ground. We scrambled, in what felt like slow motion, I watched as the panic grew in Hardin's eyes, how his brows shot up before tossing his attention toward the back. Catching a glimpse of Katie and Weston's boots, Rex being the first to jump as the Humvee went airborne.

"Go, go, go!" I scream, looking down at my legs, only they aren't there!

But Hardin, wouldn't abort, He pulled at my collar, gripping my vest, winching me from my seat... But the thick metal dash was folded in, pressing against my lap. I was pinned from the waist down. I couldn't move. I couldn't get out!

"Hardinnn!"

"Wyatt honey! wake up, I'm right here!"

"Wh- where is Hardin? I need to go back!"

"Shhh, Hardin is alright."

Her long hair falls, cascading over my bare chest as the soothing smell of rose water and pink sea salt overfill my senses, awakening my troubled thoughts. Home? While her hands run over my sweaty, overheated skin, my breathing slows. I'm back home?

"It was just another dream?" I question, still trying to wrap my mind around the vivid night terror.

"Just a dream." She whispered running the tips of her fingernails along my scalp, sitting up to hold me, guiding my head to her chest. Consoling my nerves, the best she can. Grabbing her hand, I pull it to my chest, needing to feel her here with me – needing to feel the warmth of her skin.

Sitting up I reach for the lamp, concluding my legs are still here from the dim lighting, and it was in fact just a twisted memory.

"It's okay, come back to bed."

Pulling the string, the light dissolves into the pitch-black room as I slip into bed. Instantly reaching for Abbie, I gently pull her into my arms, knowing she is the only comfort I seem to find these days. The only real reason I can get any sleep. The only reason I'm proud of admitting to anyway. The reason I'd prefer over whiskey but isn't always the luxury I can have. I swallow back my desire for that fix as I bury my nose into her soft waves until my eyes grow heavy from the settle rise and fall of her breaths and her soothing scent.

The morning sun spills passed the light grey sheer curtains, That Abbie must have pulled slightly open, illuminating against the magnolia white base boards.

As my lids flutter open, giving in to the awakening sun, I'm greeted by sweet morning kisses.

"Hey, Love! I made blueberry pancakes for breakfast!"

"I can tell!" I follow her cheery voice with a chuckle as I lick my bottom lip where the taste of warm blueberry syrup still lingers.

Propping up on an elbow, I run my fingers through her hair before tucking back the strands that always seem to get in her eyes. The same strands she still refuses to cut after years of aggravation, that I've grown to love, it's become Abbie's signature "hair tuck". I love how soft her waves are, how they glide like butter across my rough hands. Resting my thumb against her flush cheek, she leans into my hand, her gaze hungry.

Sitting up, she peels off my shirt that draped over her thighs before she crawls from the edge of the bed, up my core, trailing my abdomen with deep and slow kisses, her eyes pinned to mine like a lioness stalking her prey. Her swollen, dessert coated lips collide with mine, causing my once propped arm to break free. My hands run across her naked back, searching as they appreciate every desirable inch. My fingertips bury their way into the slight dip of her spine. A demanding moan escapes from Abbie's mouth as she tugs at my hair, crashing us back into the white cotton sheets. Finding my window, I roll on top gripping her hands, lifting them over her head. Dipping down to her neck, I plant kisses as my scruff gently nibbles at her hot skin. Earning a low whimper as she begs for more. In pure amazement, I watch as her nails clutch the nearby pillow as I venture in depth. Her eye lids flutter from the blissful pleasure that only I can give her. The draw her body has on mine is captivating, each passing stroke transposing us into another universe, that only we could possess. How did I become so fucking lucky?

As she changed the dressing on my lower leg, like she did every morning, I still watch in awe. Asking myself why this beautiful woman would stay with me. She was tender and careful. She could have anyone. Why would she ever consider staying with a man like me? Who now struggles to walk, who can no longer lift her up with ease? I'd give anything to be able to sweep Abbie off her feet, to chase her around the kitchen while dinner simmers on the stove top, to dance with her again like we did in the rain as she stood on my boots with the tips of her toes.

"The grafts are taking well! Have you looked at them lately babe?"

"Nah, It's too gross!"

"What? It's your own leg!" She laughs with excitement in her voice. "I know it's a process but look!"

A quick glance is all I can muster, before turning up my nose, "No, nope! It's sick!"

"Alright, alright, you big teddy bear, I'll apply some more ointment and cover it back."

I was finally able to convince Abbie to go back to school, after one too many messages from her students asking of her return. She even had a few begging for her to bring me to class, I had been a big part of her geography lesson this year when she taught her students places on the map, earning a blue star on her bulletin board, indicating where troops were stationed.

While she was away, her subs had the class decorate handmade "get well soon" cards that Abbie proudly hung on a red, white, and blue paper chain with binder clips in the archway leading into the kitchen. Cards decorated with colorful pom-poms and pipe cleaners, stickers and construction paper cut outs were cleverly taped along the sides when she ran out of clips from the growing support. Other classes decided to partake in "Welcome Wyatt Home".

The support of her fellow teachers and their students brought her to tears when Wonda delivered them to the door. Those students love her, and I knew she had been missing her class of second graders too. The only way I was able to talk her into leaving, was when I promised her, I'd let Liv take me to my appointments.

After Abbie left for work, I stood in the archway picking a few of the cards to take with me to therapy today. I grab two, both bright and full of color: one with three dimensional stars that popped- out when you opened it . The other was a simmering blue with the words Get Well Soon, written too large to fit the cover so the word Soon curved and ran down the side. Laughing at the effort I'm interrupted by a knock at the door. Why would Liv knock? It's her house too. Opening the door to greet Liv, I'm taken back to see a tall, toned man standing in my doorway holding a gift basket addressed to Abbie. What the Hell? Who is this guy?

Soon answering my question, his mouth curves into a beaming smile, "Hi, are you a friend of Abbie's? I'm Charles, it's nice to meet you!"

Friend?

"Yes-Boyfriend-Wyatt", I quickly correct him as he shifts the basket to one hand to extend his free one out to offer a handshake. Telling people Abbie was my wife never felt right, even if my love for her was endless. That marriage, the marriage my father forced upon us was wrong.

"Wyatt! Wow, Uh, so nice to meet you!", his enthusiasm intensifying his grip. I wince at the pain as his quick movements jerk at my healing shoulder.

"Oh, uh!" he begins, reacting to his overkill of a handshake. Interrupting his apology, an old car's brakes sing from the driveway as Alivia throws the car in park. Late as usual.

"Uh, anyways I came to drop off a gift for Abs, It's great to meet you, and Welcome home!", Charles states before turning on his heel to walk down the sidewalk. Abs. Only I call her that.

"Hey Charles!" Liv waves and greets as they pass one another down the narrow walkway before turning her attention to me.

"You ready cowboy?"

Placing the basket on the entry table, I lock the door before turning to mock Liv's overzealous "Hey Charles." with a scuff. A weak attempt to make fun of her out of frustration and deflection.

"Oh no,I know that look." She says following me on my heels on the way to the car, "Don't even go there, he is a friend from the School."

"Yea, a friend I never heard of-"

"Because he isn't important enough to discuss."

"Oh yea? And how exactly do you know Charles Liv? Has he come to the house before? Our house before?"

"The bar." She shouted, "When we went to watch Josie sing. He is just another teacher. That's it. Wyatt doesn't get upset over nothing."

"I'm fine. Just bring me to this damn appointment."

Hesitant, she agrees, dropping the argument,

"Fine."

Alivia backs down the driveway with a huff. The ride to the VA center was silent in person, but loud in thought as replayed the man that stood in my doorway attempting to console my Abbie. What right did he have to come? It wasn't his place.

"Have a good workout Wyatt, see you back at the house."

"Uh- yea, sure, thanks for the ride."

"Wyatt? Don't overthink something that doesn't exist, okay? Call me if you need me."

"Thanks, but I'm fine."

Walking toward the doors, I peek over my shoulder and watch Livi's small coupe pull out of the parking lot. Crossing the parking lot, I start my hike to town. Fuck this shit and fuck Charles. Out of reaction I crumble the cards still in my hands, realizing what I had done- my irritation grows harsher, resentfully I toss them in a nearby trash bin, making a B line toward Molly's.

Foot traffic at a pub, on a school day isn't exactly ideal for any barkeep, but for me is was, tucked away in the corner no one knew I was there, the barkeep kept pouring with no questions asked. Just a tip from my hat was all it took to get another drink. As the evening crowd began to dwindle in, I sent Abbie a quick text before closing out my tab an hour later.

"Getting a ride from a friend, see you at home."

Stumbling out the door of Molly's, I make my way home on foot and for the first in weeks, I notice the stars, I notice the calm in the air, and that the burn of the whiskey in my throat and along the tops of my ears replaced the ringing from the bombs, replaced the sound of the screams and replaced the pain in my leg.

I finally felt at peace.

A caring note to all my Caspers out there (I see your readings, thank you), Please don't ever be afraid to comment! I'd love to hear from you!❤ Buttt if you are that is also more than okay, just remember to vote per part.❤