by Laura Acton
Having listened to the dialog, seeing Dan’s wrapped hand, and worried what the fall might have done, Lexa offered, “I’ll drive Dan to the ER.”
Jon nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
Relieved Jon agreed to allow her to take Dan, Lexa tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let’s get this over with so we can start our well-deserved time off.”
“Alright. I’m coming. At least, I’m finally off light duty,” Dan quipped trying to lighten the mood. He caught Lexa’s eye and hoped for humor.
With dawning insight into Dan’s desire, Lexa followed suit. She huffed and teased, “Broderick, I don’t think you comprehend the meaning of restricted duty. Running across and falling through roofs … just sayin’.”
Dan cocked his head, glad for the banter. He chuckled then poked the Lexa beast as he came back with, “Hey, you heard Jon. Not my fault the ancient roof disintegrated. Perhaps the downfall was triggered by your weight … you were there first. I mean with all those cookies …”
Bram, Jon, Loki, and Ray burst out laughing as Dan yelped and rubbed his bicep as he said, “Owwww! You shouldn’t hit me … not allowed any physical encounters. I’m incapacitated.”
“Mentally incapacitated! He never listens. Lexa’s gonna kill him. Dead man walking,” Loki deadpanned.
“Ten bucks says Dan doesn’t make it to HQ in one piece,” Ray jested.
“With his propensity for unacceptable risk-taking … I put twenty down he won’t make it to the ER,” Jon scoffed.
Dan shook his head and chuckled as he reluctantly fell in step with Lexa.
Lexa stalked out of the building hiding her mirth under a façade of being miffed. Dang, these guys make me laugh.
Bram only chuckled. Their banter was one way for them all to relieve the stress of the call and release thoughts of what could’ve happened. If Dan hadn’t managed to hold on, he could’ve broken bones or worse. And if he and Jon had been a little faster they might’ve been under the ruins of the ceiling.
As the humor died down and they began to wrap up the scene, Loki glanced around the warehouse. “Too bad all these toys are evidence. So many kids will be without this year. These jerks are truly Grinches.”
Source of His Nightmare
56
December 24
SUV Returning to TRF HQ – 11:30 a.m.
Dan eyed his wrapped hand. The cut on his palm was a little deeper than he let on to the team, but fortunately, after examining the wound, Dr. Fraser determined that it did not require stitches. Unsure of his tetanus status, Dan came clean with Fraser about the rusty metal, and he lucked out in that area too. His updated hospital file, courtesy of Jim, now included his immunization records. His last tetanus shot turned out to be four years and one month ago after being impaled by rebar when on a mission with Hammer’s unit— fortuitously, under the five-year mark, so no needles today.
Nurse Clare thoroughly cleaned his wound while the doctor spent more time checking the bruise near his temple from whacking his nightstand. It had turned spectacular shades of colors—as would the bruising on his whole right side from the fall. Fraser also rechecked his chest and seemed satisfied the muscles were still healing well and his impromptu workout—hanging from the roof—had not unduly strained or reinjured them.
His hand would be a bit tender but thankfully wouldn’t prevent him from participating in the activities he planned with his cousins. Shuddering at the thought of the possible outcomes either he or his team could’ve experienced, Dan realized he had several things to be grateful for today. Though he still felt out of sorts—last night’s terror-filled dream left him unsettled.
Dr. Tansy advised he talk about his nightmares with someone he trusted. It had helped when he spoke to both Bram and Blaze after recent ones. He glanced at Lexa. Can I open up to her about this one? Now that we’re dating, albeit secretly, the likelihood of spending more full nights with her has increased. She now has the potential of witnessing one of my torturous dreams. I need to tell her about the threatening nature of my nightmares and prepare her for how to handle things if I become trapped and come out swinging.
It would be important to keep her safe, but it also meant he had to share deeply personal things. He would have to reveal his soft underbelly and aspects about himself even he wasn’t comfortable with … no easy task. She might reject him if she became aware of his weaknesses or scared off by the brutal severity of his dreams.
Burned and betrayed many times, trusting became the hardest obstacle for his insecurities to overcome. Continually second-guessing his ability to read people, he turned to stare out the passenger window as his hand reached for Brody’s tag. I want to trust, but I’m afraid. If she rejects me, I’ll lose everything again. Do I take the risk, Brody? Can I honestly trust her?
“Yes. Trust yourself. You can trust Lexa,” Brody whispered in Danny’s ear feeling drained. His wings drooped with many bent and broken feathers—a result of protecting Danny when he fell. Needing to recharge, his ethereal glow flickered.
Kaitlin smiled at her fellow guardian angel. “Go recharge. Dan is safe with Lexa for now. I’ll protect both of them.”
Brody nodded, and as he faded, he murmured, “Danny, she will not betray your trust. She is your beauty of life. Lexa is your path home.”
Whispering to her charge, Kaitlin urged, “Open your cocoon and let Dan in. You need each other. Dan will always safeguard your heart.”
Blowing out a long breath, Dan shifted in the seat trying to get more comfortable. He ached more now than he should, which was odd given Dr. Fraser’s pronouncement and the pain meds Nurse Clare brought him.
In her peripheral view, Lexa caught the movement. She chewed her lower lip and wondered if she, Dr. Fraser, and Jim made the right decision today. Lexa trusted Jim, he wouldn’t do anything which would risk Dan’s well-being, so if he was onboard, she would have to accept he knew better than she in this instance. She would need to talk to Boss privately and clue him in on the deception. Still worried, Lexa asked, “Dan, you doing okay?”
“Yeah. Why?” Dan glanced at her.
“Though the mattresses softened your landing, fifteen feet is still quite a fall. I realize you downplayed everything and why. You didn’t want us to worry. Spotting your Remi, freaked Jon out. When the ceiling came crashing down, we all thought … well, you know.”
Dan nodded and decided to take the plunge. Alone in the vehicle and their headsets off they could have a private conversation. “Lexa, can I talk to you?”
Lexa detected Dan’s quiet demeanor in the emergency room and believed more occupied his mind than just being at the hospital. She pulled over and put the SUV in park, unsure of the issue, but if it concerned their dating, now would be the perfect time to discuss whatever bugged him. Turning to him, she kept her voice soft. “Anytime, Dan.”
Staring out the windshield at the light snow beginning to fall, Dan said, “Thanks for not making a big deal this morning.”
Ah, I should’ve realized his embarrassment wouldn’t evaporate, and he might be worried about what I think. She could alleviate his apprehension, but first, Lexa would remain silent and listen carefully to ensure she understood fully.
“Dawn, that is, Dr. Tansy, the therapist I worked with last summer said talking about my nightmares when they occur might reduce their hold on me. So far, she’s been right.” Dan turned and gazed at Lexa.
Lexa offered a warm smile and laid her hand on his arm. “I’m listening.”
Embarrassed, Dan glanced away. When her hand gently rubbed his bicep, Dan flicked his eyes back to her. At first, he witnessed only the open compassion she exhibited when connecting with distraught subjects. As he held her gaze, something else reflected in her hazel eyes, reaching out and encouraging him to speak … to trust her.
Scared, but willing to take the risk, Dan said, “I have nightmares, and some are quite intense. I can and do lash out believing I’m defending myself or others. I haven’t had one this violent in a lo
ng time. But now … well, we’ll probably spend more nights together, and I need to tell you …”
He drew a shuddering breath. “I have a fight reflex … so it’s best if you don’t come near me when I’m in the midst of one. Promise me you’ll leave the room if I become combative. I won’t mean to hurt you, but I can’t always—”
Lexa interrupted, “You have my word. If you experience a night terror, I’ll stay safe and give you space. You don’t have to worry.”
His eyes lowered, staring at his hands. “Most times, or at least according to the unit guys, my nightmares aren’t violent, but I do yell … and …” He struggled to tell her, wanting to trust yet mortified by his weakness.
“Dan?” Lexa waited several minutes, and when he didn’t respond, she said, “And sometimes you cry …”
His head bowed, humiliation growing, Dan remained quiet. How did she know? She sees right through me. How?
Lexa noted his blush and body language. Admitting he cried appeared to be a struggle for him. Does he believe there is something wrong with men crying? Perhaps. He did grow up in a military family, and his father is emotionally distant. “Everyone cries. Wait, let me rephrase, everyone who is human cries. We all experience emotions. Sadness, fear, anger, love, and any other emotion you can name is part and parcel of being human.” When Dan continued to stare at his lap, Lexa maintained physical contact. “Ross Kettle, remember him?”
Dan thought, stupid question, we met Ross yesterday. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
“We all witnessed the little boy pour out his grief. He wailed loudly for a long time. He was filled with fear and sorrow and expressed those emotions via tears. Should he be embarrassed by his emotions?”
Answering immediately, Dan forcefully said, “No, he’s a child.”
Lexa nodded. “Okay. Now Alban. He wept yesterday too. His tears were mostly relief that his family wouldn’t be torn apart. Did you consider his reaction normal?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Should Alban be ashamed because he shed tears?”
“No, but he’s still a boy.”
Lexa titled her head. “I’d argue Alban is more a young man than a kid with all he accomplished. But I’ll grant you, by age, we can agree, he’s still not quite an adult. Is Bram a man?”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah.”
Lexa bit her lower lip and let out a breath before she said, “Have you ever seen Bram cry?”
Blinking at Lexa, Dan put his hand to his nose, searching for the ring she had grasped to lead him directly where she wanted him to go. “Yeah. Yesterday in fact, when he held Ross on the drive back to headquarters. Several other times, too.”
“Do you think less of Bram? In your eyes, is he any less a man because he displays his emotions?” Lexa stilled her hand on Dan’s arm.
Not willing to answer, Dan turned it around and asked, “Do you?”
Lexa answered intuitively without pause. “No. Bram is one of the kindest and strongest men I know. That list includes Boss, Loki, Jon, Ray, and you. Real men express their emotions—all types. There is no shame in crying. It is as natural a part of being human as breathing is.”
After letting Lexa’s words sink in, Dan jumped off the proverbial ledge—a leap of faith revealing his vulnerability. “Sometimes I cry during or after a nightmare.”
Lifting her hand, Lexa lightly carded his hair, recalling it soothed him and finding it relaxed her too. In fact, just being close to him did that for her. “Do you want to tell me about the one you had last night?”
Taking her hand in his, Dan resorted to sniper breathing to slow his heart rate and settle his nerves. Linking fingers, holding tight, he said, “This one stems from my third Christmas in Special Forces. My Christmases were never fun. The first one, a new guy to the unit, Robbie, died right before. My unit got to escort him home. Correction, everyone except me … Plouffe up to his usual tricks assigned me to Carrall’s unit. That year Murphy and Travis beat the crap out of me.
“I didn’t know it at the time, but my second Christmas I spent being tortured. My worst one, but it isn’t the source. For some bizarre reason, the third is the one haunting my dreams. Plouffe placed me in another unit when the rest of the guys flew back to Canada.
Blaze invited Brody and Ripsaw to spend the holiday with him. Brody didn’t want to leave, but I made him because I had no choice but to go with the other unit.” Dan recalled the full details of the events as they played vividly in his mind, sharing only the security-abridged version with Lexa.
Five Years Ago – December 24
Somewhere in Afghanistan – 2358 Hours
Dan set his pencil down but kept his eyes peeled, tracking the now nonexistent movements of people in the small village. All was quiet now, the norm for the past three weeks during his shift as an observer. He stood watch alone from twenty-two hundred to zero four hundred. The other six of Sergeant Marley’s unit rotated in pairs taking six-hour watches throughout the active hours of the village.
Their mission, designated a no-kill op, required them to observe, track movements, and gather intel on a suspected terrorist cell. Once analyzed, Ops Command could assess the strength of this cabal and determine if they posed a viable threat. Though not requiring physical exertion, the stress of being deep in hostile territory and maintaining surveillance for the last twenty-one days left the unit exhausted and eager to return to base in four days for some rest.
He shifted slightly in his position and let his mind wander while continuing to scan for activity. Six Christmases had passed since he met Brody in basic training and this was their third one in Special Forces, his third in a row without Brody. This sucks! I miss Brody. Even being together in the field would be better than being half a world apart.
Their first Christmas, while in MP training at CFB Borden, was the first one for him which didn’t completely suck. Well to be fair, his sixteenth and seventeenth ones while living with Bella had been alright, but nothing like after meeting Brody. They volunteered at a local shelter that day before going to the mess hall and enjoying a meal together. Low key, but nice.
They spent their second Christmas stationed at LFAATC near Halifax during MP Quick Reaction Force training. Though, he didn’t actually see much of Brody that year—only dinner at the triplet’s home. Dan grinned calling to mind his wild nights sowing his oats with triplets—a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. Thus, heralding the birth of Sinner … a rather delectable Christmas.
The third Christmas he spent with Brody coincided with their Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training. A hellacious way to spend the holiday, but at least they were together, unlike the past three years.
Checking the time, Dan noted it was all balls—now December twenty-fifth. Merry Christmas, Brody. Hope you’re having fun. Wish I could be with you and the guys. Drink a beer for me.
Dan reached for his water and took a long drink as he glanced at the sleeping members of Marley’s unit. They aren’t bad guys. Just indifferent towards me and have no vested interest in getting to know me. He understood all too well he wasn’t a member of their core unit, only a substitute to cover for their sniper who went home for Christmas.
Though, he counted this assignment as a blessing, unlike his first Christmas in Special Forces with Carrall’s unit. No one here wanted to beat the crap out of him—he was only invisible to them. Even while awake, didn’t matter if it was before or after his watch, they never included him in their conversations … or their reindeer games. Dan smirked as that wild-assed thought popped into his head. Damn, Brody’s warped humor is rubbing off on me.
As he listened to them talk about their families, how much they missed their respective parents, siblings, or spouses and Christmas joys they shared, part of him was happy for all their bliss, but part wanted them to all shut the hell up. Primarily because his childhood Christmases held no source of pleasure —only painful reminders he failed his little sister.
After Sara died, all the Christ
mas magic ceased to exist. The general and his mother never took him home at Christmastime. Parts of his extended family met in various locations but never everyone and never in Ottawa. His parents hated him and blamed him for Sara’s death—a fact they made abundantly clear on his ninth Christmas.
That year, he and the general traveled to meet his mother and Becca at a remote Air Force base—CFB Comox in British Columbia. They arrived very late on Christmas Eve, and he went straight to bed—fine with him because he could scarcely keep his eyes open during the taxi ride from the airport.
They spent Christmas in a small hotel room. They never uttered Sara’s name once. It felt like they forgot all about her and she’d never lived which made him want to scream—but he remained mute. Though, the part that hurt the most was when he comprehended he too no longer existed. There were no presents for him—not a single one. He sat rigidly, holding back his tears, as three-year-old Becca giggled and opened all her gifts.
It still confused him that later in the morning his mother left the room and returned with a few things for him. Though, she wouldn’t even look at him. He realized the items were an afterthought like maybe she didn’t want the rest of the family to find out they left him out—not that he would ever tell his cousin Scott something like that—mainly because he didn’t deserve anything.
His gifts included a t-shirt with the hotel logo, a pair of wool socks, and a candy bar. As he and the general left that afternoon to return to his ice prison, SFTB Yukon, Dan marched past the tiny store in the lobby and noted everything had been bought there. That fact made it crystal clear in his mind that neither his father nor mother loved him anymore.
A virtual knife was driven deeper into his heart after they returned to the Yukon base. A couple of days after his tutor asked him what he received for Christmas several gifts appeared. Duffy’s dumbfounded expression when he told him what he got made Dan want to curl up and cry, but not as much as when he figured out why the presents arrived.
The general only wanted to keep up appearances in front of the soldiers—they weren’t given in the spirit of Christmas to express love. Dan didn’t want them but said ‘thank you, sir’ as he dutifully opened the packages. He struck back the only way he could—he never played with a single toy. They stayed in their boxes stacked neatly in his closet.