Page 12 of Promises in the Dark

She stared at me, holding that soft gaze for a second before backing off, giving me the space I was screaming for. A twinge of guilt tried to creep in, but I shoved it down. Self-preservation was the only thing that mattered now.

“I understand,” she responded, her voice stained with a hint of disappointment. “Just know that we’re here to help, whether it’s through physical contact or not.”

I didn’t have the energy to sugarcoat shit. She flinched at my harshness, but I wasn’t here to make anyone comfortable.

Her words barely registered, my eyes drifting away as my mind retreated into its own damn fortress. Solitude and isolation became my damn comfort zone, shielding me from the pain and vulnerability that lurked outside its walls.

“How long was I unconscious?” I asked, my voice cold and expressionless.

Doc stared at me, her brow furrowing. She hesitated, like she was trying to figure out how to break it to me without getting chewed out.

“Approximately three days,” she replied, sounding exhausted herself.

I took a deep breath, burying whatever was left of the vulnerability trying to bubble up. The walls around me grew thicker, that old rhythm of shutting the world out kicking back in.

“About your team...” she started, her voice heavy. “You were the only survivor,” she said instead. “Now you’re being held in a medical camp near Kandahar.”

I stared right through her. No flinch, no emotion, just stone. I already knew. I saw my team get ripped apart, blood and guts all over the fucking place. I didn’t need her to tell me shit. I had seen shit that would make the toughest motherfuckers piss themselves.

And it didn’t faze me. Not like it should have.

I met the doctor’s gaze with a cold, distant stare, my eyes revealing none of the damn turmoil brewing inside me. I became numb, like a corpse, detached from the world around me.

“I’m aware,” I responded bluntly, my voice devoided of any emotion. Doc’s eyes widened slightly, concern and disbelief trembling across her features.

She reached out a hand, but I instinctively pulled away, my aversion to touch resurfacing once again. She took a step back, her face pale. She probably expected some sort of emotional breakdown, but all she got was the cold, hard truth. I was empty inside. A shell of a man who’s seen too much and felt too little.

“I understand your need for self-preservation,” she said softly, with a hint of sadness. “But remember, it’s okay to let yourself grieve. You don’t have to face this alone.”

I scoffed at her words, my cynicism seeping through. “Grief won’t bring them back,” I retorted coldly.

She tried to play the savior, offering me some bullshit comfort I didn’t want. I’d perfected the art of shutting people out. She wasn’t going to change that.

“Very well,” she said, accepting my truth with resignation. “Your bandages need to be changed. A nurse will be in soon.”

I gave a nod, barely moving. My soul had sunk deep into that dark pit where I felt nothing. No sadness, no peace—just void.

“Who brought me here?” I asked, my throat dry and voice flat.

“Your unit rescued you from the talibans,” she firmly responded, standing at the edge of my bed. “To be precise, the few that remained at the base, brought you here after they bombed the terrorist’s hideout.”

I nodded slowly, the fragments of memories starting to piece together. Flashes of being forcefully dragged into the abyss, locked away in a room to croak.

“I’m gonna need a ride back to base,” I stated, not really asking, more like demanding. “Immediately.”

“Not until you’ve healed,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re in no condition to travel.”

“I can handle the pain,” I grumbled through gritted teeth, “so you can spare me the lecture on being recovered.”

“You have two bruised ribs, a gunshot wound in your abdomen, and cuts, scrapes and bruises all over your body,” she rattled off, not missing a beat. “It would be reckless and irresponsible of me as your doctor to let you leave in this condition.”

I grunted, already fed up. “I don’t recall asking for your goddamn opinion,” I snapped, attempting to sit up, only to be met with a searing pain that made me wince, biting down on my lip to contain the stream of curses building up inside me.

Then, my eyes landed on my wrists, still fucking bound to the hospital bed. My anger shot through the roof.

“Seriously?” I whispered, clenching my jaw as I tried to break free.

“Lie down, soldier,” she ordered, unfazed. “The nurse will be here in a moment to change your bandages.”

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