The fight to get back to you. (Book 3)

Chapter 9

Elliot’s POV.

After Costa Rica I promised Lucas that I would sort my situation out, I didn’t need help I just needed to man up. I wasn’t weak, I had survived war for over four years and I wouldn’t let it beat me now that I was finally free. Finally free to actually be with Lucas and love him, yet I am showing weakness and I nearly killed him more than once.

We were back home now and he is sleeping beside me, his chest rising and falling peacefully as he dreamed. I turned to face him resting my head on my arm as I used my other hand to brush his hair out of his face and down his cheek. I love him but I am not good enough for him.

I quietly climbed out of bed and moved to the living room, grabbing a blanket from the airing closet on the way. I climbed onto the couch and tried to fall asleep, I couldn’t stay in bed anymore until I fixed whatever this was.

There is more to this than what I am telling Lucas, more to it than what I have slipped up. I never meant to let him know anything was wrong but that day in the kitchen was the worst episode so far and when I woke up to find my arms around his neck. Jesus I have never felt such a hideous person in my whole life, even with all of the things I had to do in Afghanistan.

I just want to be normal again, so that I don’t have to check around every corner, even in my own home, for danger. Normal so that I can sleep without nightmares that have me flailing violently at Lucas. Once you have killed someone though, you cross a line that you can’t cross back and although I was only supposed to be a medic out there I had to defend myself.

I killed more people than I can count on both hands and although I needed to do it, it saved the life of my men, it was hard to deal with. I was there to save lives and I ended up taking them away from people instead, as a doctor it’s a pretty hard thing to cope with.

That’s why I haven’t listened to my parents and become a doctor back home, I don’t deserve to be one. My body has become nothing but a cage, a source of pain and constant problems. This problem, this illness has caused me pain that not even the strongest medicines can dull and there is no cure.

It is nothing short of torture to wander through life everyday feeling like this, not mentally able to function during the day but too frightened to fall asleep at night. As time goes on keeping this from Lucas is getting harder to do, I don’t want him to think I am weak, less of a man and unable to cope.

My mind is a harsh environment, filled with the visions of war. Horrors and unceasing depression. I remember the simple things that I used to take for granted which are now almost impossible for me to do. The crippling anxiety, the crying, the inability to develop pleasure from anything and the constant pretence so that Lucas remains happy is driving me insane.

I feel like an empty shell, my mind is too broken to have a real job at home that’s why I stay with the army. I would go back try and do some good, hoping that it would erase the bad things I have done but I am not mentally stable enough to go back.

If I went back and had an episode I could put myself, or worse my platoon in danger. I feel so useless, I feel like there is no point to me being here anymore I have nothing. Nothing except Lucas, he is the reason I still get up on a morning and try to carry on.

He is the reason I want to be better, I love him I really do but I am just not good enough for him. I will continue to fight to be with him and try to come out of the darkness. He isn’t to blame for any of this and he doesn’t deserve it, not when I made him wait for so long then I come back to him broken.

Lying here thinking of all this is hard enough but admitting it all to Lucas would be unacceptable, he doesn’t need to know how bad it has become for me. Drinking helps, vodka has become my saving grace. It numbs the pain and for a brief time each night it dulls my memories and helps me to get through yet another day.

That is another thing I have become very clever at hiding from Lucas, I have my ways and my stash is well hidden. I hate being weak but vodka isn’t weak, people drink all of the time and if it helps me to keep my face straight and put on a smile for him then surely it’s ok?

The sting on my throat is harsh but I like it, it reminds me that I can still feel. That I am not completely absent yet and that feeling helps me cling on long enough to reassure Lucas each day. I know it’s a matter of time before he finds out or someone at work does but for right now I need this.

I guess I am just replacing one weakness for another but this weakness is the better of two evils and this vice, which is what it has become, it necessary to keep Lucas happy. This couch is uncomfortable and my neck is hurting, there are something’s even the vodka can’t fix but I will cope and learn to get used to it.

There is no way I am going back to bed and hurting Lucas again. My motivation and the person I love more than anyone else in my life, I can’t risk it. One more neck from this bottle and I will try to sleep, hopefully tonight I will be spared from the night terrors.

It’s cold on the couch, I want to be with Lucas.