Journey - REVISED EDITION

Doubts, Memories, and Quitting Lungs

Alex realized what he'd done. He'd had a panic attack last night, and in his desperate gasps for oxygen, he'd torn his lung open again. The bullet had clipped it, and although it had been healing, he'd probably just ruined any progress it had made. Sitting up in bed had probably caused it to bleed and overflow into his lungs.

"The ambulance is here, Alex. Just stay with us for a while longer. Little breaths. That's it." Falcon's voice was soft, reassuring.

Paramedics rushed into the room, slow motion, carrying him down the stairs, placing him on a stretcher. They wheeled him into the ambulance, and Falcon went with them, Alex never once letting go of the one thing grounding him.

On the road, Alex was given an oxygen mask to help clear his lungs. But he wasn't allowed to sleep. Exhausted as he was, Alex found this a near impossible requirement. Every time Alex's eyes started to slip closed, Falcon would squeeze his hand and talk to him gently, covering random topics ranging from a favorite color to family back home. He never once asked Alex to respond, simply being there and keeping the teen awake.

"Alex. Wake up. Stay with me, kiddo." There were lights flashing above him, and Falcon was running next to the stretcher.

"Sir. You can't come with us. You need wait in the room with the others." A strange voice said.

"Alex. I have to go. But I'll be back. You're safe with these people." Falcon said, his voice borderline urgent.

Alex realized he was still clutching Falcon's hand. He let go, and watched the soldier slowly disappear down the hall, the florescent lights reflecting off the floor.

A wave of exhaustion swept over him and he gave in, letting the darkness take him over. There was no-one left to stand in-between him and the yawning chasm. He fell headfirst, plunging into unconsciousness.

******************************

Wolf didn't know what to think. Alex only had been with them for two days and already been shot at by terrorists, confirmed their suspicions of PTSD, and flat-lined on a hospital gurney. Oh, did he forget to mention that? Falcon had come running into the waiting room, breathless and pale, saying that Alex's heart had stopped in the hallway soon after they made him leave, before they even reached the surgery room.

Now, watching the teen sleep on the hospital bed, with tubes and needles sticking out of him, Wolf couldn't help but feel lost.

He knew what to do on the battlefield. Out in a war zone, he knew what to do to save people's lives. In dangerous situations where the wrong decision could mean dead men, he knew how to lead. How to protect.

But not for a teenager.

No. A teenager was uncharted territory and Wolf was terrified of it. Out of the entire unit, Falcon was the only one acting normal around the kid.

Well, if you call mommy-ing normal.

Whatever had happened two nights ago was a big deal, no matter what Falcon said.

Then there was Falcon. He was still pretty new. He hadn't had an actual war-zone experience, hadn't yet encountered the enemy. He was quiet. Wolf knew nearly nothing about him.

Alex had seem totally comfortable around him. A man he'd just met.

What did that say about the differences between himself and Falcon? Sure, when he met Alex he wasn't very nice, but things had changed. He had answers now. He knew that Alex wasn't some stuck up rich boy, who needed discipline so badly that his parents had to send him to a military training camp. Alex was a spy. A bloody good one at that.

But he was also a child. A child that was currently fighting for their life on the operation table, while members of his SAS unit sat around in nervous silence.

It was awful. Wolf was scared for a kid who he'd just met and knew nearly nothing about. He was filled with trepidation about the next several months ahead of him. He really didn't want to mess this boy up anymore than he already was. He didn't want to be responsible for the mental health of a sixteen year-old.

But he was. And just like everything else in the life of a soldier, he'd do his best for Queen and country.

Because that was his duty.

And it was what he lived for. 

So sorry this was late. My computer broke (it's still broken RIP BABY) but I managed to get my writing onto my mom's laptop and now I'm updating. SO yeah... hope you enjoyed it!

Don't forget to comment and vote! It means so much to me!!

Over and out,

AgentAlexxRider101

"Fear God. Honor the king." - 1 Peter 2:17b

P.S. If I get five reviews within the next few days, I'll post the next chapter. Bwahahahahaha!! There. Some incentive.