How She Came Home

Chapter Seventy-Four

Two weeks later, Freen's cast was finally removed from her leg. The weather had warmed in National City, muggy and oppressive, the magnolia tree outside scattering waxy flowers across the sidewalk and the sun a harsh light that greeted them earlier each day. 

Freen had made a small amount of progress, uninhibited by bandages or casts, although she still ached when she stretched her unused muscles, and they'd made an effort to go for a walk each morning at sunrise, with the intent of building up to sunrise jogs before the day grew too hot. 

They took Athena with them and being outside was good for them all, stopping at Starbucks for coffees on the way home, going to the park to see the riot of colourful flowers, passing down some of Freen's favourite streets.

Of course, there was also the bad side to her recovery. 

Once when Mind had been over, she'd slammed a cupboard shut so loudly that Freen had stiffened in her seat, the blood draining from her face as she was dragged into a flashback, her ragged pleas and helpless blubbering as she sobbed over memories causing Becca to practically baby-proof the entire house, every door, cupboard, drawer and cabinet made to not slam in an effort to limit the things that could trigger her. 

The heat itself seemed to make Freen feel worse, sweating and crabby out the back, as if she was back in the desert heat, and while her nightmares were less frequent, the ones she did have were by no means calmer.

It was at least three times a week that Becca was woken by her thrashing and shouting, sometimes earning a knee to her stomach or an elbow to her ribs as she tried to calm Freen down. 

She kept it to herself if Freen was unaware of it, and it was a small win in Becca's book - it wasn't every night now, only most of them. It was a victory nonetheless, and they returned once more to the topic of therapy. 

Becca was insistent that it would help, with Nam less pushy as she also tried to coax Freen into giving it a go, and in the end she relented and started visiting an old colleague of Nam's, who specialised in PTSD with army vet's, enduring weekly sessions that she didn't speak about with Becca. 

It was evident that she cried in her sessions though, red-eyed and embarrassed as she avoided Becca's eyes when she came out afterwards.

Becca still didn't have much of a life for herself, despite her promises to Nam to take a break, but she was obstinate and refused to admit that it was all taking a toll on her, no matter how much better it had gotten. 

She barely let Freen out of her sight, and definitely not out by herself, considering therapy for herself as a way to vent all of her pent up emotions, stamped down to the bottom of her heart to make room for the overwhelming relief and joy at having her fiancée home. 

It didn't seem that she'd be able to fully process it unless she gave herself the room to do it, but with so much going on, Becca didn't even have the time.

Still, that hour that she sat in the comfortable reception area of Freen's therapist office was like her own reprieve from her life, listing to a Podcast in one of the waiting chairs while she waited for Freen to emerge. 

Afterwards, they would get lunch, trying the tacos at a nearby Mexican food truck, bibimbap at a Korean restaurant or an assortment of pastries and desserts from a bakery to take home instead. 

She never pushed Freen to do anything she didn't want to, but Becca had hoped she'd show more interest in doing things again, now that she was off her crutches, but the only real interest she had was in her photography. 

Becca was even more thankful she'd made the decision to turn one of the spare rooms into a little dark room and photography space for Freen, and she often shut herself in there, toying with her cameras or developing photos, although Becca didn't see the outcomes.