3: Scars Remain Ch. 03

Luke sighed, "Don't remind me. I love you, Kaylee." Luke opened the car door with one hand and sat down, sliding the seat back, holding Kaylee's hand the entire time. Kaylee giggled as Luke roughly dragged her down onto his lap. "Movie's about to start, angel."

Kaylee gasped, "Why Luke, if I didn't know any better, I would have thought you pulled me down on the Challenger's stick shift. Tell me, kind sir, what am I sitting on?" She batted her eyes at Luke, trying to break down his barriers.

With a groan of frustration, Luke kissed her cheek and said, "When I get a ring on your finger, you'll find out."

Her heart stopped. Or, at least it felt like it did. Just when she thought Luke couldn't surprise her anymore... BAM!

Turning around towards the movie screen with wide-open doe eyes, she replayed that sentence over and over in her head. When I get a ring on your finger... when I get a ring on your finger...

She bit her lip and sunk into his chest, praying for the movie to start as soon as possible. She seriously needed a distraction from reality.

VI -- Shattered

Kaylee was thrilled Luke was finally going to counseling. Not that it would solve all of his problems overnight, she knew, but at least he could learn how to deal with his emotions and safely process everything that had happened to him. It was a start. After several weeks, Kaylee was comfortable enough with Luke's progress that she decided to enroll back in school after what she called her "Luke Break" -- implying she wasn't going to school because she wanted-slash-needed time to spend with him. He wasn't as amused with the term as she was.

Psyche 101 was particularly eye opening. As the professor mentioned PTSD during one of his lectures, better known as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, she sat straight up in her chair. Unpredictable outbursts, inability to process stress, uncontrolled anger... it was as if the professor was describing Luke! Kaylee had already known something was going on with Luke, but now that she had a name for it, she felt hopeful. The scope of what Luke was really facing finally sunk in. She knew it wasn't his fault, but now she could justify it! Ever the impatient one, Kaylee was half-tempted to bolt from class right then and there so she could begin her own research.

Luke never talked about his deployments; she learned that was also a hallmark trait of PTSD. She tried working up the courage to ask several times, but she always chickened out at the last minute. No matter her intentions, there was a fine line between giving him genuine help and potentially setting off a powder keg. She even remembered reading how you can't help someone until they are ready to be helped. Her instinct told her to leave it alone; Luke would come to her if and when he wanted to talk about it, and she would be ready.

She wasn't always good at going with her instincts.

"So," Kaylee asked over the high volume of the movie on her 50 inch LCD television, "what was it like over there?"

It didn't even sound right as the words came out of her mouth. She immediately winced with regret. Leaning back into Luke's arms, she nestled herself against him and reached one hand back to stroke his head, as if to let him know she was there for him; after all, she only wanted the best for him.

Still, she honestly wasn't sure why she asked. It was a nagging question that popped into her head a few days ago, one that seemed to have come from nowhere. She suspected it was because of her uncontrollable impulse to do anything it took to help Luke -- granted it was an impulse that got her into trouble more than once.

"What do you mean," Luke asked with a little surprise in his voice, perhaps at the random timing of the question.

Kaylee backpedalled, deliberately pausing before replying, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I was just curious."

She could feel Luke tensing up behind her. He grabbed the remote control and turned the volume down, understanding she wanted a serious conversation.

"Well, I think I told you the basics. There was practically nothing but the color brown out there. Brown sand, brown dirt, brown trees, brown mountains. But, in a way it was kind of nice because all I had to worry about was eating, sleeping, flying, and working out."

She chuckled, "Every man's dream."

"Yes," he answered, somewhat melancholy, "Although it could never be a complete dream without you in it."

The glow on her face lit up the room despite the dark movie-theater atmosphere; she beamed from ear to ear. "Awww!"

Kaylee thought for a moment. She asked, "Do you miss it? I mean, the Air Force, the flying?"

Luke thought about it before nodding, "I do. There was nothing in the world quite like flying. Thousands of feet above the earth, slicing through the clouds, admiring the world below.

"Still, I'm glad I'm on terminal leave. It's given me time to think, and most of all time to be with you."

"Is it wrong that I'm ecstatic that you've been... forced out of the Air Force?"

Looking up, she saw a sparkle in his eye while clearly reflecting on his time served. He told her, "No, of course it's not. I completely understand why you feel that way. I'll miss it, believe it or not; my career was over just as quickly as it began."

"Do you think you'll go back to college, maybe do something with computers? You were always good at that. You know I just started back up; there's probably still time for you to enroll if you want. Maybe we could even take some classes together..." Kaylee forced herself to stop. "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

Luke smiled, "It's ok; the longer you talk, the longer I get to avoid your deep thought-provoking questions."

He turned serious for a moment. "College... I don't know. I should, I'm just not feeling it right now, and not sure if I want to get back into computers. As for the rest of my time out in the desert, I was fortunate enough to work with some great guys and girls. When I first arrived, everything was fine. But when the big operations started, it got bloody, even before the crash. After I went down..."

It hit Luke hard after that. It was evident to Kaylee that he didn't want to finish talking. "That's ok," she said, trying to defuse the situation. "The important thing is you're safe now, with me."

Luke didn't say anything. He stood up, carefully moving Kaylee off of his lap, and went into the kitchen.

Kaylee just sat there, nervous and wide-eyed. Something wasn't right; it was like Luke flipped some kind of switch. But it was subtle. She tried to think of what else she could say to him. Quietly she stood up from the couch and peered her head around the corner to check on Luke.

He had taken a glass out of the cabinet and held it under the faucet, his back towards her. As she took a closer look, Kaylee could tell his hand was shaking so badly he couldn't fill it more than halfway before the water began to splash out. He set the glass down and took a deep breath.

He tried a second time. The same thing happened again. He just couldn't seem to keep his hand steady enough.

What happened next was unlike anything Kaylee had ever seen in her life.

Luke bellowed out a growl that couldn't possibly have been human, grasping the glass and throwing it across the room as hard as he could. It shattered against the wall as hundreds if not thousands of tiny glass shards and water droplets exploded in all directions. Luke stormed into the dining room, grabbing the solid wooden table and, with one quick motion, violently overturning it.

Kaylee was terrified; she had never seen anger manifest like this in anyone; the last person in the world she expected this from was her calm and mild-mannered Luke Patton.

But the worst part was that she was absolutely petrified of Luke. As much as she wanted to rush in and stop him, or at least try to calm him, she couldn't move her legs. As if her body tried to warn her that she would get hurt. Maybe it wasn't instinct; maybe it was genuine fear.

He grabbed one of the chairs next to the upside down table and raised it above his head.

"LUKE!!" Kaylee shrieked, tears flying down her cheek.

Conflict swelled within him: Dwindling sanity versus uninhibited wrath. Every muscle in his body flexed as he held the chair above his head, fighting every part of his ignited rage that wanted to slam it down.

"Luke, no..." she whimpered through her tears.

His entire body shook and his legs wobbled. He dropped the chair and collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

Seeing how shattered Luke had become within a matter of seconds broke the spell over Kaylee. She ran forward to Luke, draping her arms over him, weeping just as hard as he was.

"Shhhh; it's ok," Kaylee coaxed him, repeating it over and over.

Luke lay on her lap; he could barely choke out, "I'm sorry, Kaylee; I'm so sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry; you didn't do anything wrong, baby," she told him through the tears.

"You don't deserve this," Luke replied, still shaking, "I shouldn't be here. I should have died; all I'm doing is making your life miserable."

Kaylee was shocked, but more than that she was hurt. "Luke Patton, don't you dare say that! Don't ever say that to me again," she cried.

Luke didn't say anything, but he did squeeze Kaylee tight.

There was an incredible feeling of sorrow within Kaylee, and she blamed herself. She should have kept her mouth shut in the first place. "This is my fault, baby, I'm so sorry. I should never have asked..."

Luke shook his head, indicating his disagreement, "It's definitely not your fault, baby."

She held him even tighter. She didn't believe him; how could he see it wasn't her fault? It was! She knew bringing up the past was risky, and it blew up in her face.

"Luke, don't blame yourself, ok? It's not like you can control yourself. This PTSD... it's a mental illness. I've been learning more about it, not just with the counselor but also at college. I knew better to ask but even so, none of this is your fault. Okay?"

Luke didn't nod in agreement -- she wasn't so sure he was accepting of PTSD -- but he did relax. He was exhausted, his chest heaved up and down, gradually settling down.

Neither of them was exactly sure how much time had passed. Finally Kaylee stood up, telling him she'd be right back. She quickly grabbed a few pillows off of the couch and a blanket from the closet, making a temporary bed right where Luke lay. Quietly she stood up with the intentions of cleaning up the water and glass, but Luke grabbed her arm. He refused to let go, gently pulling her down next to him, wrapping his arms around her.

Kaylee decided the mess could wait. She surrendered herself, snuggling into his awaiting arms. Gently she kissed his cheek, sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

Sleep didn't come quickly for either of them, but the rest of the night Luke didn't say a single word, and neither did Kaylee.

---

"I feel kind of dirty. We shouldn't be here," Ryan told his son.

"Dad, I like Ford. Besides it was your idea," Luke replied.

"I know. The things I do for your mother. I can't believe she's still driving her old Mustang; that thing needs to be put out to the pasture. She better love me for this."

Luke chuckled.

The weather had turned out to be really nice; there wasn't a cloud in the bright blue sky and the gentle breeze kept it from being too hot. And Luke was grateful; he had enough of the heat ever since he was stuck with a constant one hundred and twenty degrees Fahrenheit while deployed. As a bonus, because Ford dealership was always closed on Sundays he and his dad could enjoy looking at the vehicles without having to worry about sales reps hovering over their shoulders. They were only doing their job, he admitted, but it was nice not having to deal with anyone.

"Dad, look at this Shelby," Luke said, admiring the Shelby GT 500. "Blue with black racing stripes. 650 horse, 600 torque. Are you really telling me you'd pass this up just because you have discrimination issues with an auto company?"

Ryan laughed, "Hey! It's not discrimination. I have nothing against the Mustang, except for the fact it's not a Challenger. Lets face it; the Challenger looks better with its vintage 60's muscle car style. I prefer the way it feels and handles over a Mustang, too."

Luke looked at his father, as if disappointed with his answer.

With a sigh, Ryan looked over his shoulder, as if making sure there weren't any witnesses. He whispered, "Of course I'd drive that, in a heartbeat. Yes, I prefer the Challenger, but I mostly do it just to harass your mother."

"Are you serious? You mean after all these years, you're telling me that it's nothing more than getting under her skin?"

Ryan gave him a devious smile, "It's good for her. It keeps her on her toes. I'd hate to risk our relationship becoming stagnant."

"So you're saying if I want things to improve with Kaylee, choose the opposite of something she really likes?"

"Now you're getting it, buddy," Ryan grinned, proudly putting his hand on his boy's shoulder. "By the way, how is Kaylee doing? Now that you're back, we seem to see her less and less."

Luke winced, thinking of his meltdown a few nights ago and the ensuing torture and pain he put Kaylee through. But now wasn't the time to get into specifics with his dad. "She's doing ok, for the most part. It's hard to tell with her. She's so invested in me and trying to help me back on track; I worry she's not focusing on herself. And I'm definitely not helping things. Although I will say she did finally decide to resume her college classes and continue towards her Associates Degree; I'm grateful for that. It's interesting; she's quite different now than she was in high school. Her care and compassion seems to grow exponentially as each day goes by."

"I think Kaylee's great for you. Your mom does, too. Is she going with you to your appointments," Ryan asked, deliberately avoiding the term 'counseling' even though Luke knew his dad was being subtle. He always was.

"She's been going to every other one with me. The funny thing is she thinks she's going to help me, but the counselor spends a lot of time on her, helping her processing her feelings and emotions. For a smart girl, she hasn't quite caught on to that yet," he said, grinning.

"Well, I'm glad she's getting help, too. Even if it is indirectly," Ryan said. "You know, I never told you much about my first wife, did I?"

Luke grew quiet. He knew his dad had been married before he met his mom, but he was never really told the full story. His dad never talked about it, and he never asked. Why was he opening up now of all times?

Luke shook his head no.

It was obvious that his dad had become solemn, thinking back on a difficult past. "I know I told you that we had a son together. Adam, your older brother. That's how you got your middle name. Amanda and Adam were both killed by a drunk driver right before I was scheduled to come home from Afghanistan."

"And just like that," Ryan snapped his fingers, "My life had drastically changed. I thought it was over. My brand new family, waiting for me back home, were gone without warning. Just that quick."

Luke listened quietly, his attention fully fixed on his father. He knew of Amanda and Adam, but never heard what happened to them until now. His father was never comfortable bringing them up, at least in to him and Faith.

"I'll never forget when my commanding officer told me. We had just finished our patrol. The moment I stepped out of the Humvee and saw the Captain, I could tell by the look on his face that something was seriously wrong. Honestly, with all the shit that was going on over there at the time, I figured one or more of our troops had been killed. I had no idea that the devastating news I was about to find out involved people I loved back home."

Ryan was having a hard time holding his emotions back, digging up the painful memories of the past, which caused him a great amount of heartache. "I didn't think I could continue. I didn't want to move on. For a while," he said, taking a long pause before deciding to continue, "I thought about ending it all."

The shock on Luke's face manifested immediately but he remained silent, willing to listen. Ryan lightened the mood with a soft chuckle, adding, "Don't worry, this story has a happy ending. Mostly." Putting his hand on Luke's shoulder, he said, "I have your mother, I have you, and I have your sister. Life couldn't get any better for me. But that was a dark time. In fact, when I reached my absolute worst was about the time I ran into your mother."

Ryan smiled, clearly remembering the first time he met Jessica. "The funny thing was, I was mad at God -- I mean I was furious with Him -- and to make things worse, your mother was just as confused about life as I was at that point. Yet even with all of my anger, God didn't give up on me even though I initially gave up on Him. He healed me little by little, day by day. Not enough for me to see at the time, but looking back on everything I went though it became crystal clear that He was with me every step of the way."

Ryan thought for a moment and said, "Do you remember that poem called 'Footsteps'? Well, it was like that. That was me -- my life was a textbook case of that poem. When I was with Amanda and Adam, life was perfect. God and I were walking side by side on the sand; I'd look behind me and see two sets of footprints -- His and mine. After my wife and son died, leaving me to fend on my own in this world, I looked behind me and only saw one set of footprints. I asked the Lord, 'Why did you stop walking with me? Why did you abandon me?' I was in anguish and couldn't understand why He left me in darkness. It wasn't until several years later that I realized he never did abandon me. It was I who couldn't walk. I never noticed it, but God was carrying me the entire time. He left the footprints behind us."

With a slight grin, Ryan said, "Despite all of my mistakes and poor decisions -- and trust me, I had made some extremely poor decisions -- He used Jessica to help me get back on track. I was worried I would hurt her, and I tried to push her out of my life, but she stuck with me long enough for me to wise up and see what I really meant to her. And I'd like to think that He used me to make her life better, too."

Looking squarely in his son's eyes, he told Ryan carefully and deliberately, "You know, after everything I went through, your mother was the one who eventually convinced me to see a counselor. Does that sound familiar?"

Luke immediately thought of Kaylee and her unrelenting persistence, pushing him to get help. His entire family pressed him to go, over and over, but Kaylee was the one that finally got through to him. "Yes, it does," he confessed.

"Make God number one. And if you're as serious about Kaylee as I think you are, make her your number two. Everything else in this life comes after. If you remember only one thing I've said this entire conversation, remember that."

Luke nodded, "Ok, dad."

Ryan put an arm over his shoulder, escorting his son to the next potential Mustang for his lovely wife. He prayed silently in his head that Luke would absorb his fatherly wisdom, unaware if his words had any impact.

Luke was quiet the rest of the day as they continued looking, but allowing everything his dad told him to sink in. He had a lot to think about.