Thirst

by Mia Ford

  But even so, he convinced himself that it was all fine and he was just being obsessive. Although he told himself this, when he went to bed that night it wasn't with the same feeling of self-confidence and belief he had experienced the previous two nights.

  Waking up, Clint felt his heart sink when he checked his phone to find that there were no messages from Olivia. And if that hurt, what followed was essentially a kick to the face as he tried to call her only for his call to go straight to voicemail.

  He didn't know what was going on. If he should be worried or concerned for Olivia? Perhaps she was in trouble? Perhaps... perhaps it was his story on the Arizona that turned her off? This thought washed over Clint like a tidal wave and suddenly, a moment that had seemed to pure, somehow felt dirty. He had opened himself up, too much by the sounds of it. He had opened up and scared Olivia off...

  Clint just couldn't believe that were true. In fact he refused to. The real problem was that he had too much time to think. Since he was brought up on charges he had been put on temporary leave and thus hadn't worked in days. He thus decided that the best thing for him to do was to get to work. Something, anything really to keep him occupied.

  He was on his way to his barracks when he got the bad news.

  "Clint! Clint!" The voice called out to him from across the dock. It belonged to Hartman, another SEAL on Clint's team. "Wait up!"

  "Hartman," Clint offered as he came to a standstill. "What's up? You look nervous." Indeed, Hartman didn't look quite right and nervous may have been an understatement.

  "I'm sorry man," Hartman began as he pulled up. "I drew the short straw here."

  "What are you talking about?" Clint asked, genuinely having no idea what the heck he was going on about.

  "Word just came down. You've been reprimanded for that thing with the Coast Guard the other day. You're on leave until further notice."

  "What?!"

  "Yeah, like I said I pulled the short straw here having to tell you. I was also told to tell you that you're on thin ice and one more foot out of line could see you disbarred entirely. Sorry man," he offered, patting Clint on the shoulder. "We all think it's bullshit too. I would have done the same thing were I..."

  But Clint had stopped listening. The docks seemed to spin around him as the words sunk in. There was an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach too. One he didn't recognize. One he had never had the displeasure of feeling before. It didn't hurt, at least not physically. But it made him feel ill.

  As Hartman droned on about how unfair the decision was, Clint continued to stare off into the distance, out across the bay. The funny thing was that he didn't even care about the fact that he had been put on leave. As much as that stung he knew that it would eventually end.

  What really hurt, what made his head spin and what was responsible for that feeling in his stomach, was the fact that it was Olivia who was responsible for it all. She had a choice. She could have looked past his actions. She knew what being a SEAL meant to him. He had told her as much. But even still she chose to prosecute him.

  He thought that... he thought that he loved her and that perhaps she felt the same way about him too. Now it seemed that wasn't the case. Not even a little bit.

  --

  Clint waited outside Olivia's apartment for exactly two hours and fifteen minutes before she came back. He had no idea where she had been. And really he didn’t care. She may have been at work. She may have been training. She may have even been with another guy... although that possibility he preferred not to think on. All he cared about right then was why. He just wanted to know why.

  "Clint?" Olivia said when she spotted him, waiting outside her door. She was staying in a small hotel lodging just off the Naval Base. Clint was slumped against the wall in the hallway, leaning against her door. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was shaky and uncertain. You would think that two hadn't been sleeping together for the past week.

  Spotting her, Clint slowly climbed to his feet, using the wall to balance himself. He wasn't drunk, or even tired. He was just weak, as if his whole body had given up. "Hey," he said, trying to act as normal as possible. "I've missed you."

  "Oh right... yeah I've been busy,' she rushed through the words as she made her way to her door. And as she pulled out the keys, she fumbled with them, trying to unlock the door. "What have.. What have you been up to?"

  "Nothing. Nothing at all," he said. It was as if they were two strangers, talking for the first time. Clint could feel the tension between them. He knew what she had done and she knew that he knew.

  "Did you want to --"

  "Actually that's not entirely true," Clint cut in. As Olivia went to go inside the room, Clint stepped in front of her, blocking her off. "I was down on the docks earlier. I was going to run some drills with my team."

  "Oh?" Olivia offered ducking under Clint's arm as she stepped inside. Clint didn't follow. Instead he leant in the doorway, watching Olivia nervously wander through her hotel room. She walked from the kitchen to the bed and back to the kitchen, playing with her hands the whole time as if trying to think of something to do with them.

  "Yeah, it was funny though. I got down there and I was told... they told me I was on leave. Isn't that odd?" He was still in the doorway, watching her.

  "Haven't you been on leave all week?" She asked, still not looking at him.

  "Well that's what I thought. But then they confirmed that this was official. Turns out I've been brought up on charges. I'm on leave now until further notice. Until they know what to officially charge me with."

  "That's... that odd --"

  "How could you!" Clint suddenly exploded, storming into the room as he made for Olivia. "How could you do that to me?" He grabbed her by both arms as he reached her, forcing her to face him.

  "I had no choice!" She wailed, tears beginning to brim beneath her eyes. "Randall he... he..."

  "What? He ordered you to charge me? He forced you to disbar me?" His voice was shaking as he tried to control himself. He wanted to yell and scream in her face. But he couldn't. Being this close to her hurt to much. "I trusted you..."

  "He promised to help me," Olivia admitted, full fledged tears streaming down her face now. "He promised to help me become a SEAL."

  Clint let her go as if she had suddenly caught fire. The look he offered her was one of disgust, because indeed that was how he felt. "So what? You turned on me so you could become a SEAL? That means more to you than us? Than what we... than what we had?"

  "No of course not! You're not in that much trouble. I made sure to keep the charges light. All you have to do is behave and you'll be fine. It's – it’s a slap on the wrists," she stuttered through the words. To Clint it sounded like an excuse. It was poison to his ears.

  "Just a slap on the wrists?"

  "Yes!" She exclaimed.

  "You don't get it. It had nothing to do with the punishment. It's... never mind." Clint was done. He didn't want to stand there and argue semantics with Olivia. He didn’t want to explain the betrayal and how much he hurt. So he didn't.

  As Olivia fell to the floor, weeping openly, Clint turned and left. He could hear her crying as he stormed down the hallway and a part of him wanted to turn back and console her. But another part of him didn’t. That part never wanted to see her again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Olivia hadnt' slept at all the previous night. It was probably the worst night she had experienced in recent memory, which was saying a lot as she was also coming off what had previously been the best week in living memory. How could things turn around so quickly?

  The worst part was that she only had herself to blame. When Lieutenant Randall had approached her with the deal, she had initially considered telling him to go to hell. That would have been the right thing to do. If she had done that she wouldn't be feeling as awful as she currently did.

  But she was weak. She saw her end goal, so close and for the first time actually tangible, and she couldn’t say no. So she told herself t
hat she could have her cake and eat it to by bringing Clint up on lesser charges. She had convinced herself that he would be OK with it. That if she explsained the situation he would be fine and nothing would change between them. But as witnessed, that wasn't to be. Not even close.

  When he accosted her, when he yelled at her, she knew that it was all her fault. Like a knife driving into her stomach, she had never felt such pain. She spent that entire night, curled up in a ball on her floor, crying her eyes out. She considered calling Clint maybe one hundred times, but never did. She was just too weak.

  Her only consolation, if it could even be called that, was the fact that soon she would be entered in the Navy SEAL training program. That was all she had to hang on to. That was the only thing that got her out of bed. And as such, that was where she was headed. She had an hour before she had to be on a boat back to San Diego, so before she made that journey, she just had to confirm with Randall that their deal was still a go ahead.

  Lieutenant Randall was just about to leave his office as Olivia approached him. In fact, when he spotted her heading towards him, he seemed to pick up speed, quickly locking the door and rushing from his office as fast as he could.

  "Lieutenant Randall. A quick word," Olivia said as she hurried toward him.

  "Ah, Conway. I'm actually a little busy," he began, not bothering to slow down as she fell in line beside him. "Maybe another time?"

  "It will only take a second," she insisted.

  "OK. But just a second. I really am... In a rush."

  "I just wanted to double check that our... I don't want to say deal but, well that the understanding we came to is still in place?" she asked.

  "Ah," Randall said. It may have been her imagination but he seemed to increase his pace, which was pretty impressive considering his size and physical fitness. "Well you see Conway I spoke to some people and it turns out that they really just don't want a female Navy SEAL in the program."

  "Wait a minute," she said, reaching for his arm in an attempt to pull him up. Unfortunately he dodged her manoveur, continuing to speed ahead.

  "Like I said, I'm in a rush and I really can't stand around talking all day."

  "We had a deal," she said, trying to maintain her composure, but finding it very difficult.

  "And I lived up to it. All I said was that I would try and help. Try and did that thus concludes my end of the bargain. I can't make miracles happen Conway. Some things aren't meant to be."

  Olivia didn't even bother arguing. As Randall increased his speed again, hurrying down the docks, Olivia slowed up, staring at the back of the man in disbelief. She had been played, as simple as that. Randall had wanted Clint prosecuted and all but lied as a means to ensure that it happened. And Olivia, in her ignorance, fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.

  As she watched him go, she felt a few droplets of rain fall on her face. The sky above her was starting to turn. There was a storm coming. Appropriate, she thought to herself as right then she felt like she were drowning.

  *

  Clint's apartment was usually clean to the point of being clinical. He had little furniture to speak of, zero decorations lining the walls and flat benches and never, ever left mess out. Even the kitchen appliances were kept in cupboards until they needed to be used. Navy SEAL life had him trained.

  It was only through knowing this, that one would be able to appreciate just how broken Clint was at that very moment. He sat in his apartment, flipping through TV channels but unable to keep anything on for more than a second. DVD boxes littered the ground in front of him, and in his kitchen a pizza box could be seen on the bench. Indeed, resting in his lap was a half eaten slice of cold pizza, and by his legs a discarded crust lay. There sat a broken man.

  To describe the way he was feeling would be nearly pointless. From his actions alone it's clear that he had given up. He usually cooked his own food, never eating out. And he usually read rather than watched TV. His five o'clock shadow too was beginning to come in.

  The phone suddenly rang, cutting through the silence. Clint stared at it without any intention of actually getting up to answer. The machine would get it, and if the call was important, which he somehow doubted, then he would call back.

  "Hey Clint? Are you there?" Olivia's voice spoke out from the machine. Clint's eyes flicked to it, pausing on the machine for a second before purposefully looking away. "I'm, I'm sorry, Clint. You have no idea how sorry I am." She sounded desperate, worn out, sad. She sounded nearly as broken as he felt. "I know you probably don't want to speak to me ever again. And that's fine, you don't have too. I'm about to get on the ferry to San Diego and if you never speak to me again... I'll understand. But, if you do decide to, please know that... that I want you to call. Bye." And she hung up.

  Clint's eyes flicked back to the phone, again pausing on it. She had sounded hurt, Clint couldn't deny that. Really he never had. He didn't doubt that making the choice she did had hurt her. But that wasn't the point. The fact that she made that choice anyway was what stung the most. He couldn't forgive her for that. He couldn't.

  He pulled his eyes away from the flashing light on the machine. Instead looking outside, the complete opposite direction. It was then that he noticed the storm coming. The sky was as black as night, with the odd flash of lightning exploding within the darkness. It crept closer and closer, ominous and forbidding. Soon it would be on them.

  Despite himself, Clint suddenly thought of the ferry that Olivia was about to get on. Hopefully the storm would pass by then. But then again, Clint had hopped for a lot of things. None of which had come to pass.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The storm had only gotten worse.

  The wind howled, angry and vicious. It whipped at trees, sending branches flying as cars swerved across the road in an effort to keep steady. As the mayhem increased, the sky turned black as night, shrouding the entire island in darkness. Thunder shook from the heavens and the lightning was like fire in the sky. And although the rain hadn't come yet, Clint was sure that that was going to be beyond any downpour he had ever witnessed.

  He had been watching the storm come for the last half hour, steadily getting worse and worse. As he watched it, he played over the voice message from Olivia too. Again and again he played it. Each time, despite himself, he felt himself forgiving her. And it wasn't so much her words that brought on his forgiveness, but her current predicament.

  She was on a ferry, heading across the ocean in what Clint was sure was the worst storm he had ever seen. Despite himself, he just couldn’t stay mad at her when there was a chance she might be in danger. It was because of this that he knew he would eventually forgive her. It might be a week, it might be a month, but he knew that deep down he would come to forgive what she did. He just hoped that by the time he was ready, she won't have forgotten him.

  But as he sat at home, watching the storm, Clint came to realize that maybe he was thinking a little too far forward. If this storm continued to increase at the rate that it had, there might not be a future to look forward too.

  His eyes flicked to the machine one more time, before again looking out that window. At that moment a great palm tree across the road literally had itself torn from the roots as a huge gust of wind hit it. The tree then came crashing down, near shaking the floor beneath Clint's feet.

  Clint was done sitting around. He was on his feet in a second, and out the door a second after that. He had somewhere he had to be.

  --

  He was soaking wet by the time he reached the Coast Guard hangar bay. He was right in the fact that the storm was going to get worse. He had run the whole way to the Coast Guard hanger and on more than one occasion had to take cover from a tree branch or piece of debris, flying through the air like a bullet from a gun.

  The Coast Guard hangar was pandemonium when he entered it. Dozens of Coast Guards streamed across the open space, yelling orders to one another as the three choppers inside the bay prepared to take off. Clint, spotting Brian by the nearest
chopper, ran up to him without hesitation.

  "Brain! Brian!" He yelled as he approached him. Brian was halfway in the chopper when Clint grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "Wait. I need to ask you --"

  "No go, Clint, sorry." Brian yelled back over the churning noise of the chopper. "We gotta go here!"

  "One second! You owe me that!" He held onto Brian, forcing him to look him in the eyes. He didn't blame Brian for what had happened, but Brian didn't need to know that. Not now. And sure enough, Clint saw the guilt in his eyes. He nodded once. "I just need you to check on the ferry that left here at 1500 hours. The one heading for San Diego."