Back in the wild Pt. 01

"Help is coming, son. Just stay alive and fight like hell. No one is gonna get left behind. Just hold, that's an order!"

So we held and fought as long as we could. I remember every round that I shot, killing or crippling any Taliban prick who dared to come close to me and my men. One got so close that I saw the white of his eyes before I shot him between them with my sidearm. I remember that one grenade that I threw at the truck transporting enemy reinforcement that exploded halfway through its destination, and I remember that one guy that I tackled down hard on the floor.

"Colt?"

I gripped him by the shoulder and drew my combat knife, totally in kill mode.

"Colt!"

The world around me turned into red the moment my blade struck the man on the chest. Blood started to emerge as I stab him again and again. It's me or him.

"COLT!"

Another one showed up armed with a short machete. I stood and dodged his attacks twice before I kicked his knee to throw him off balance, grab him by the wrist and slit his throat. Thus, I didn't care how many more I am gonna kill. Let them come. I'm just gonna kill them all. Kill...kill...kill...KILL!!!

"COLT, WAKE THE FUCK UP!!"

Waking up as if a bomb just exploded outside next door, my body reacted on its own the second my hands reached out to grab the first thing I could lay them on, the throat of the person crouched over me.

"Hrk!" the woman gasped taken aback as I wrapped my fingers around her neck.

Thinking of her as an enemy, I tossed her aside and flipped her over to end up straddling her. I was ready to eliminate the threat as I raised my right hand closed into a fist to finish it. That was before she tried to speak up even while being choked:

"C-Colt...it's me...you're...hurting me."

Recognizing her voice, it took me at least half a second to realize who I was really attempting to put down. Ivy, the last person I would ever harm. Yet that's exactly what I am doing right now. I was suddenly horrified at the terrible sight of my sister looking at me as if I was actually going to beat her senseless. The fear in her eyes is something I've never would've expect to ever see her express on her face given that she has always been so fearless. Right now, she might as well be as vulnerable as a sheep caught by the neck between the fangs of a wolf.

"V...Ivy! I stammered, incapable of putting a single phrase together with the guilt settling in my heart as I let go of her and lowered my fist. "I'm so sorry...I...fuck!"

Both too ashamed and frustrated of myself to deal with the situation I created, I jumped off the bed and quickly walked straight away towards the bathroom. I barely closed the door behind me before I went for the sink and turned on the cold water to start splashing my face with my hands. Refreshing my visage did some good to cool things off, but it did little to make me feel better after what happened...after what I did.

PTSD is a curse that had plagued the veterans for as long as history remembers. I am no exception even if my condition is not as severe as the guys resorting to therapy to remedy their problems. Sure I have nightmares sometimes, but that dream I just had was something else. Leaning over the sink while still a bit shaken, I probably hesitated for a full minute before I raised my head to look at my own reflection on the mirror.

I've never been one to look at myself very often since there wasn't any point to do so for me. Now that I'm face to face with myself eye to eye, I remember why. Long ago, I used to do it casually while brushing my teeth or shaving like a normal person. Now I merely do as I must to properly do the deed without making any direct eye contact. The Colt Galagan my big sis once knew as the kind and gentile young man has changed in more ways than I'm comfortable to mention it. The individual I'm presently staring at right now is a man who has done things most wouldn't. And like all those who have seen war and witnessed what lethal weapons can do to a man first hand, my gaze is as sharp and battle harden as the next marine after over a decade of military service. Due to the losses we soldiers all suffer after the death of a friend or a brother, the horrible pain left its mark with the few wrinkles that seems to have been carved on the outer corners of my eyes and in between.

For a while, I actually thought I could leave it all to the past now that Ivy and I are finally reunited. What an idiot I was to believe that it would be that easy. After all, these rugged hands of mine had killed so many men I gave up counting the day I reached a hundred or so. Back in the wars that raged in the Middle East, a marine who was broken and remade in the crucible of combat develops and adapts his skills forged in battle for the sole purpose to acquire victory and live to tell about it if he's lucky.

And with such a skill set and experience wired in my brain, you can't just turn off the switch and be a normal person again, not after what I was trained to do, what I was molded to do and what I was ordered to do for years. I was but a soldier, an asset, a registered weapon. To the very least, I can kill any man by any means necessary, even with my bare hands. I've done it before, I can do it again, and that's exactly what scares me.

Ultimately, a veteran is either a good addition to society, a number easily replaced and forgotten or a ticking time bomb. That's how it usually goes for the guys I knew and for those I heard of. Tragedy is a common thing for people who have lost more than they have gained. If it wasn't for Ivy, I would've stayed in the Corps, continued the fight. It was so simple, just follow orders and do your job that was it. Now I'm supposed to pick myself up and be a model citizen?! If not that, what else am I supposed to be, a former fighting dog that can go werewolf at any time?

No...no that's not me...that will not be ME! But what if it's too late? What if I'm already just an animal that can't suppress or control his impulses? What if I snap and hurt someone by mistake? What If I hurt Ivy again? What then...WHAT THEN?

Unable to contain the frustration building up inside me, my fingers became pale as I cramped my grip on the sink and bashed my head hard against the mirror, creating a web of cracks upon impact. The pain was superficial enough thanks to the anger that was burning hot through my veins, but that didn't mean squat when I started bleeding from a single scratch in the middle of my forehead. And thus as I stared back at my reflection again, breathing harshly upon losing my temper, I see myself as I truly am; fragmented, twisted and bloody from between my eyes down to the bridge of my nose. By then, a drop of blood fell to splash at the bottom of the sink the moment I heard three quick knocks coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Colt, are you okay?" Ivy asked sounding seriously worried.

No clue what to say at all, I kept quiet as the guilt started the weight heavy in my heart again. I just can't talk, not right now.

"I'm coming in."

Not ready to face her, not after what I did, I stayed as I was with my head hanging over the sink and with my eyes closed shut the moment my sister took the initiative of opening the door and entering the room unafraid and undeterred despite the incident. Bare footed, her footsteps led her behind me where she was now standing so near I can hear her breathing from her nose.

"What's going on, Colt?" she asked gently enough so to not sound pushy just before she laid her hand on my back. "What was that about?"

"It was just..." I said hesitating with my words as the shiver that ran through my spine made my eyes pop open and my head rise upward at the contact of her palm and fingers with my skin. "I was...dreaming."

"About what, war?"

"Yeah."

"Figures...you jumped me pretty good back there. Freaked the shit out of me to be honest."

"Sorry...I didn't mean to...I just...lost it."

"It's okay," Ivy added, being more sympathetic than she ever was before she applied her other hand on my left shoulder blade. "You practically just got out of the shit, I get it. You don't have to hide anything from me."

Unsettled but deeply touched by the empathy my usually crude, loud mouthed and cocky big sister was demonstrating, the ember that was left alone in my soul suddenly grew warmer and hotter by the second to fill the gap of darkness with light. And as though I was still too cold, she slipped her hands below my armpits and wrapped her arms around me to fully embrace me and rest her chin on my left shoulder near my neck. Given that we are at the same height, her cheek is lounged against mine while her soft tits are pressed against my back instead of her hands, not to mention her hips intimately snuggled against my butt. Having her touching me like that somehow managed to put my dark thoughts to rest as my body instantly started to relax. The warmth of both her flesh and her love was enough to make me loosen up my grip on the sink stained with the blood that was dripping from the tip of my nose.

"You're bleeding!" Ivy exclaimed as she sooner found out only to quickly turn me around and rip off a handful of toilet paper.

Like way back when I used to come back home as a toddler with a dirty face, big sis held me still by the chin while wiping the blood off my face. Just like right now, I would just stand there and let her do her thing like the mother hen she can be at times.

"Hold it there," she said referring to the folded piece of tissue that she put on my forehead where the scratch is situated. "Doofus, you know that hitting your head against glass is bad for you, right?

"I'll remember that," I replied with a weak smile on my face while holding the toilet paper like a sponge on the wound in order to stop the bleeding.

A few minutes later, I was sitting on the bathroom rug with my back against the bathtub with Ivy at my side to my left. While holding me with her right arm extended across my shoulders from behind, my thick deltoid muscle was like a sturdy pillow for my sister to lean her head on as she held my free hand firmly in hers. It feels just like old times in our childhood or even during our teenage years whenever one of us had a hard time going through something in our lives. The memories of those times were a great comfort in my darkest hours.

"What's going on in your head, baby bro?" Ivy bluntly but gently asked after a moment of silence that lingered until now. "Just tell me something...anything."

"Okay," I responded, relenting as I sighed releasing a good puff of air by the nose before I started to talk while aimlessly looking at nothing in particular within the bathroom. "Do you remember Hugo Vega...the guy I served with?"

"Yeah, I remember. You two were close, right?"

"The best of friends...he was the brother I never had."

"Tell me about him again."

Figured that the topic would arise sooner or later since I haven't talked about it to anyone before, not even to my own sister, my heart aches none the less as I gather the courage to pull out what I've been carrying in my chest for far too long.

"Hugo and I met at boot camp in Pendleton. He was a big bastard, tough as badger and fearless like it's no one's business. He never started fights but never ran from them either. We didn't like each other much at first. He was kind of a dick while I was a "cabrón" as he liked to put it. Before we knew it, we became rivals throughout half of our training. Which one of us could finish the obstacle course first, who was faster in assembling and disassembling a rifle or do our beds first thing in the morning, who could shove down the most food in our mouths before an angry DI corals us out of the chow hall, and who could withstand all the shit the Drill Sergeant can put us through the longest.

One day, we decided to settle this once and for all in one sparring match. We fought hard, twelve good rounds. I was amongst the best men in hand to hand combat, but Hugo's arm was a cannon. No one has ever hit me as hard as he did. Later after that fight, he told me a saying told to him by his grandfather. Make your friends among the fighters who knock you cold. Ain't that the truth since he and I came to earn each other's respect...and sooner became best buddies.

He was maybe an idiot sometimes, but it turned out that we had more in common than we thought. We both took to heart the principals of a soldier, a code of honor...I had his back...and he had mine. And for that, we got closer over the years...we laughed together, ate together, fought together...and spilled the same blood in the same mud time after time. Loyalty was his creed...he would risk his ass anytime for the team. He never overthink things, he just went for it. Idiot used to brag that he was bulletproof...then he died...saving me."

Thus as I said what I had to say, spilling my guts like never before, tears started to fill my eyes so much that drops were trailing down my face. Pain is a strange thing. It's natural for anyone to be afraid of getting hurt. But the worst part isn't the pain itself; it's how long it lasts and how it always comes back no matter what the fuck you do. Of all the injuries I suffered, losing someone who was a part of my life is more painful than anything I ever experienced, and Hugo had a big place in it. His death blew a hole inside me bigger than what a 44 Magnum can do to a man's chest.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Ivy said no longer talking at all like her usual self, but like the big sister she always was, cuddling and comforting her little brother. "When did that happen?"

"Three years and six months," I answered after using the toilet paper to wipe my face now that my forehead wasn't bleeding anymore.

"And you kept that to yourself all this time, why?"

"Don't know...guess I didn't had the stomach to say a thing. The last person I talked about Hugo was with his little sister."

"Little sister huh," Ivy acknowledged as her curiosity got the better of her. "What's her name?"

"Adriana...Adriana Vega. We met seven years ago after Hugo invited me to visit his family at Santa Clarita.

"What is she like?"

"Well...I guess she's a little bit like you," I answered, welcoming the distraction from the depression that was eating my guts. "She's headstrong, hot-headed and straightforward. When she has something to say, she will say it to your face either with a heart of gold or with her wrathful temper."

"Wrathful huh, sounds like the kind of person I like. When did you last saw her?"

"At her brother's funeral...I...didn't left on the best of terms."

"What do you mean?" Ivy questioned after she pulled her head from my shoulder to look at me in the eye. "You two argued?"

"No, nothing like that," I said while weakly shaking my head in response. "It's just that...it was hard for me to be there. I was the superior officer of my squad, a Sergeant. Hugo and the rest of my guys were under my command, my responsibility. It was my job to keep them alive...I failed...I made a call...and they're gone because of me. The guilt was just...too much. So I left without a word."

"So what, you didn't call or write her after?"

"No...didn't reply much to her calls or messages either. I wanted to...I did...but...I don't know."

That said there is nothing else I can add in the pot. Though I had my reasons, it was wrong of me to ghost the sister of my best friend, the girl I grew to like more than I ever admitted. Of all the women that I've met, Adriana was the only girl I would've given a shot in building a relationship with if it wasn't for Ivy. Even Hugo would've approved since he was the one who teasingly informed me that his sweet, little sister has a crush on the dashing US marine that I am, a lone wolf, an adventurer, tough, but with a sensitive side. His words, not mine right before I told him to fuck off.

"You care about her, don't you?" Ivy presumed with a knowing smile.

"Yeah...I kind of do," I replied as I shyly return her smile.

"And you're telling me that you haven't heard or spoken to her for what, three years?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much how long it took me to do something about it. We talked a week ago on the phone."

"Really, what did you talk about?"

"Well...she did the talking first," I chuckled a little embarrassed. "In fact, she yelled at me...a lot, calling me a lot of things...estúpido, pendejo, motherfucker and a few more names after that. I was amazed that she didn't hang up on me. It was after she relaxed that we finally talked, how she is doing, how I am doing...stuff like that."

"Quite the firecracker," Ivy giggled amusedly. "So you two end up okay?"

"We turned out okay all things considered. We made up for lost time. She moved on in her life just as I have only better. She's a tattoo artist you know. That calavera on my chest, she made it with her own tools at her place. We had a few drinks together after that, The Thirsty Gringos I think it's called."

"That's cute. And you two didn't...you know."

"Know what?"

"You know, bow chicka wow wow," my big sis added mischievously grinning with a naughty look in her eyes.

"No, nothing like that happened," I truthfully answered without hesitation. "I told you, I never slept with any other than you."

"I know but...you like that girl, right?"

"I do like her, I really do...but I wouldn't and couldn't cheat on you."

"Maybe you should've," Ivy muttered looking downward as she was no longer smiling.

"What does that supposed to mean?" I asked now a little perplex by what she was implying.

Suddenly uneager to answer just yet, Ivy sighed as if there is something that she has to say but seems to be somehow afraid of putting it into words. It's as if something is eating her from the inside. Thus thereafter she removed her hands and slowly withdrew herself from my side to instead rest on her knees in order to look at me like she also has something in her chest. Yet judging how she's chewing her lower lip and with the nervous look in her eyes, I can tell that whatever she has to say, it won't be easy to spill it.

"I...wasn't completely honest with you...about Lilith," Ivy finally said as if she had done something that might upset me.

"I'm listening," I patiently replied now that she has my full attention as my big sis exhaled to build up her resolve.

"Like I told you before, we were together for a long time, Lilith and I. Hell she was my cellmate for five years until her release two years ago from now. She was the silent type at the beginning. The first time I saw her, she was like a cute little bunny thrown into a den of wolves. A girl like that is an easy target for any nasty bitch who would've taken advantage. I still remember how she used to shake all the time even after I promised I wouldn't hurt her.

Eventually after we became friends, I got to know her better than I thought I would. She's smart, sensitive, spiritual and totally open minded for just about everything. When we talk, she listens to me and always speaks her mind and finds a way to sheer me up. Then we...got closer...and closer...until one night...we became more than friends. We...kissed."

"You mean...you two..."

"...Had sex...yeah."

Too astonished or too puzzled to speak just yet, I sat up straight, looking at my big sis as if she just slapped me on the face with a tortilla. Of all the things I could've anticipated or imagined, this was the last thought I had in mind. My sister...is bisexual! That's just...wow. Honestly, I have no idea what to think or how I should feel. One thing is for sure, anger and jalousie weren't exactly my immediate impulse glancing at Ivy clearly blushing out of embarrassment.

"At first, I thought it was just a fling, you know," Ivy continued as I haven't figured out what to say yet. "I never did it with a girl before, and I was so horny I just...I was just so fucking lonely and Lilith was so sweet and loving I...we fell for each other. I'm still not sure how...we just did. I know I should've told you way sooner, but I thought you would find somebody else to be with. Now I feel like I've been cheating on you all along. I'm sorry...please don't hate me!"