Page 1 of Eternally London

Loïc

“I like to think that I’m strong—maybe I am—but even the mightiest of men need a reason to fight, and London is mine.”

—Loïc Berkeley

My chest expands as I inhale, fighting to pull in the air I desperately need. My head aches from lack of oxygen, yet none comes. Only dread. Fear.

I’m consumed, drowning in panic, enveloped in pain.

Taking in his face causes more agony because I know what’s about to happen. I’m going to lose him and possibly myself. This is it. The next second is going to alter the course of my life forever.

It’s over, and all I can do is scream…

“Loïc.”

I vaguely register my name as a soft, sweet voice resonates deep within my mind.

“Loïc, you’re okay. Wake up. It’s just a dream. You’re okay,” she repeats.

I recognize the voice.

My London.

“Loïc,” she says again as her hand glides across my chest, slick with sweat.

“Hey,” I respond weakly, letting her know I’m okay.

“You had a nightmare,” she says into the dark space.

I let out a long breath. “Yeah.”

“You haven’t had one in so long. Was it bad?” she asks, concerned.

“It was about Cooper again.” I swallow hard, my throat dry.

My mind is almost always crammed with thoughts of my best friend, my brother. I can’t shake his memory or that final look on his face before the grenade exploded. Part of me thinks that little asshole is doing it on purpose. It’d be so like Cooper to haunt me for all eternity. He was always a little intrusive, constantly in my business.

My lips slightly tilt up, and warmth invades my chest, calming my racing heart, as I imagine Cooper with a huge smile on his face, somewhere out there—wherever we go when we leave our lives here. I can see him, happy and laughing, proud of his ability to still insert himself into my life.

London wraps her arm around my middle. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I kiss the top of her head.

“I wonder what triggered it.”

“It’s Tommy.”

Tommy is a kid, just turned nineteen. He recently joined my PTSD group at the VA. He’s freshly back from deployment with two fewer legs than he left with. His body was ripped apart by an IED.

“The new guy you were telling me about?” she asks.

“Yeah. He just brings me back, you know?”

Yesterday, Tommy showed up to my group with that vacant look in his eyes. I’ve seen that look before. Hell, I had it. I know the hopelessness, the all-consuming desperation, that surrounds Tommy. I hope he has enough inner strength left to fight. The hollow expression he carries is haunting, and it takes me back to a very dark part of my life. I just pray I reach him in time.

“I know. I’m sorry.” London entwines her bare legs with mine, pulling us closer. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. Let’s just go back to sleep.”

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