Thread: Coming Home [Firm x SYD3RS]

He heard her, but he wasn't actually listening very much. Even as he relaxed, he kept looking at different locations that he needed to scout. Coming along the freeway he was watching for anyone crouched behind the divider. His eyes went into other cars, particularly ones that seemed to stop for no clear reason or slowed down ahead of them. He kept looking around the corner of buildings as they passed them, his eyes shifting left and right, then searching windows for any glint of a person there, or the telltale flash of metal sticking out of a corner, reflecting the sunlight. At one point a light flash caught his eyes and he quickly threw his head that direction, only to notice it was a car windshield that shot a beam at him. His heart was racing and he was the only one that was in this war going on. Yeah, teaching. That must be fun. He caught something about men in her line of work. It sounded odd to him. He couldn't help thinking that she might have mentioned that because she knew there was more to it. It was silly, though. She was trying to make conversation and he smiled as she spoke so fondly. Must be really fun. He just hoped that things weren't too friendly. It didn't settle with him well at all. Were those men really that important to her to mention them? At the mention of her brother, he perked up. Steven never really liked the guy. He seemed like a total pussy. It held his formalities about it and was always civil, but he had never tried to talk to the guy. It was something he never really talked to Ashley about since it didn't have any purpose and he sure as hell didn't need to put a divide between her brother and himself for her. Still, his resentment was harbored in his chest. Sounds like he's doing good then. You must be really happy for him. Her next comment made him smile, but he quickly turned more serious. He never liked being the center of attention. It was something he held onto throughout his childhood. He'd play by himself and get into hobbies and interests on his own, never expecting anyone to want to do the same things he did and never wanted others to really notice him. Joining the military and going through their training reinforced that idea. If you were in the spotlight, it was easier to be in the crosshairs too. He had remained quiet through most of the ride. Ashley always did like to talk and he usually let her. She had always been good at listening to him and doing what he told her, but at times like this, he didn't really care. So she got to enjoy talking away while he remained silent. If there was any reason he needed to interrupt, he'd do it instantly and demand her full attention and silence. It was something she seemed to respond to early in their relationship and it stuck. It suited him very well. She had her freedom to do as she wished until it touched on his borders and he'd come down on her hard to keep her in check. Sometimes she did, but it was rare. It's fine, Ash. He said simply about her talking. There really isn't much for me to say. And she went on, happy he was back, having nothing to say, not making sense. She was rambling and she was happy. It made for an annoying, but pleasant experience at the same time. Finally she came to the conclusion she should shut up. It suited him and he didn't follow up on the matter. For some reason he felt surprised that she hadn't moved his he left. As she pulled into the same driveway that he had pulled into many times before, he started to wonder if anything had changed during his deployment. She still lived her. She was still more than happy to talk someone's ear off. Her brother was probably still a total pussy, which he humorously figured his wife was probably the man of the house. As she turned off the car and got out, he slowly unbuckled his own belt, not using his other arm at all since it was starting to ache now. He should have used the sling he was offered when he headed home, but felt it wouldn't be right. Ashley knew he was wounded. Having a sling on prominent display was going to only make her think it was so much worse than it was. He also didn't want anyone around to notice. Showing signs of weakness were things he was very careful to guard again. Still here? He asked, somewhat quietly and rhetorically. At least it wasn't going to be a shock. The layout would all be the same. He could go straight into the bedroom and lay down. She'd probably want to cuddle. Probably even want sex, which he knew he wanted to, but at that moment he was thinking about sleep. Having the thought of her naked body pressed against his side wasn't helping to keep his focus on sleep though. He finally got himself out of the car in time to watch her disappear behind the open trunk. And here she was again. His bag slung over her shoulder, dwarfing the girl. She didn't seem to be struggling, but it pained him to imagine that she needed to carry that for him. He looked around, hoping no one was watching. With how sharp he had become at looking for figures shifting around, he felt more content that no one got to watch him being babied by his wife. It made him tempted to rush over and rip the bag off of her shoulder and push her inside. He could see himself reaching back to slap her across the face, surprised at the idea. He remember that he had struck her a few times in the past, but it was only ever in pure anger. She knew how to piss him off, knew how to push his buttons, and of those rare times she did, he pounced on her. Damned if he was going to let this little bitch talk to him that way! He'd apologize later. He always did. And she'd say it was okay and sometimes she'd admit it was her own fault. It made him feel more justified about the issue and that hopefully she had learned her lesson. She was already over by the door by the time he was near enough to even bother taking the bag and it felt pointless by now. He watched her shift the strap around as she tried to unlock the door as well. It was a measure of divide tasks and she never was good at displaying strong motor skills if they had to be divided. This time was no exception. She finally got the door open and he followed her in, closing and locking the door behind them. Feels like I never left. He said, giving a small chuckle even though he found nothing funny about it. The place was scarcely different from what he remembered. All of the furniture was the same, all in about the same positions. He took a few steps in, looking around as if he were in a new place. As he walked into the front room, he looked around, taking in every inch of the space before moving into the kitchen and dining area that seemed to merge into each other in these places. It felt strange to him that he was looking so hard at everything, but not really noticing any object he looked at. Finally he headed upstairs to the bedroom. Mind if i take a quick nap? He asked, his eyes darting up the stairs as he rounded the banister. He noticed he had walked backward at the end of it, already trying to see as far up as he could. It was then he noticed what was wrong he couldn't stop scanning. He was clearing the rooms. He was going around each area, cutting the pie, hugging each wall and watching the opposite side. He was trying to find people hiding from him that weren't there. He was looking for a gun or a tripwire or an explosive that was set up just to kill him, hidden by everyday objects. Even in her home, no, their home, he was doing it. And he could feel the phantom tug of weight on his back and on his legs. The way his pack would rest on his shoulders and the clips and supplies he would have around his waist. He could feel them all. He instinctively slid a hand across to his waist, not feeling his side arm. He reached up to above where his holster should be and found no pouches for the clips. He reached across his chest, finding everything missing. He couldn't feel the kevlar vest. The jacket. His gloves were gone. He ran his hand up to his face, his goggles, the helmet, the ear piece to communicate with his team. Everything was gone and he was exposed! He felt himself hit the floor and his shoulder was now crying out in pain and the wind was knocked out of him. He matched the pain with an exasperated shout of agony, muffled by nearly empty lungs, before rolling onto his other shoulder. He had fallen over and was now watching himself roll from facing the base of the stairs toward the wall. Ashley was now over him, an expression of terror on her face. Her worry frightened him and he found himself desperately looking around. Get down, damn it! He yelled at her, a cough following after as he tried to gasp for another breath, watching her flinch violently. She seemed to just freeze and stare at him like he was mad. Get the fuck down, now! Again he yelled at her, this time with more force and his arm shot up and dropped back down to motion her, the shoulder furiously shocking his arm with pain. Finally he watched her disappear from his sight, having at least crouched and a second later he noticed where he was. He looked down to see his duffle bag laying just past his feet. He sat himself up, gritting his teeth over the pain and looking at his bag completely dumbfounded. What just happened? He looked over at Ashley now, surprise written all over his face. He wasn't sure what to do. In all his training, he didn't recall ever facing something like this and now he sat at the base of the stairway, completely silent as he watched Ashley finally start to stir then come toward him. I think...I think I need to lay down. He just sat there, finding himself not ready to get up. I just need to lie down for a bit. As she reached out for him, he found himself trying to get up on his own, but letting her help. He had been scared many times before out there. It was the first time in his life that he'd been scared while at home with nothing coming after him.