Callum wakes with a start, the sound of explosions echoing loudly in his ears. Sweat drenched his forehead, dripping slightly down his brow. Sitting up quietly in his room, darkness encasing the small space, seeping it's way through his bones, Callum rested his head gently in his hands. His mind swirled. It had been two months since he was medically discharged from the Army, a diagnosis of PTSD written boldly on a piece of paper handed to Callum, as well as shrapnel wounds littering his body. A harsh reminder that his career had ended the moment he stepped into a land mine. It had been four whole weeks since he'd last left this room, his hair remained a spiking mess, evidence that he hasn't washed it in so many days. Curtains remained drawn, and clothes scattered across the floor. Picking up his phone, he scrolls through, sighing heavily, seeing his army friends posting photos of them together, their happy faces lighting up the screen, but Callum knew better than to believe the photos. He knew the smiles were a lie. Behind them was hurt, suffering and images that were engrained within the mind of their beholder.
Images flashed within Callum's mind. Smoke, fire, bullets and bodies. A brutal reminder that he couldn't save his friends. The family he watched die in-front of him. People he treated like family. Those people had a family, daughters or sons, wives or husbands, and it swirled round in Callum's mind, the guilt eating him.
Bang, bang, bang.
The noise startled Callum, causing him to instinctively curl up into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs and gently rocking himself.
"Callum? It's just me." The sound of Ben's voice ricocheting through his house, caused his heartbeat to rise, like there was an electric current running through him, spiking at the sound of his boyfriend. Climbing gently off the bed, he trudged his way to the door, opening it the slightest fraction, allowing Ben to slip through, before quickly closing it and bolting it shut again. He turns round gently, noting the expression on the shorter mans face.
"What?"
"Nothing, how are you feeling?" Ben kicks himself mentally, wondering what part of his brain thought it was acceptable to ask someone who he knows isn't fine how they're feeling. "Alright I suppose." Callum's reply is futile, and holds little conviction.
Sighing softly, Ben pulls him to his chest gently, allowing Callum to rest his head within the crook of his neck. "I'm here, always."
His comment earns a small smile from Callum, acknowledgment of what he said.
"Thank you." He replies, placing a gently kiss to Bens forehead before taking himself back to bed.
Ben follows behind, he knows the routine now, eat, sleep, cry, repeat. He feels helpless, unsure how to help his boyfriend, his best friend. He does the only things he knows how, he sits with Callum, chatting away, reminding him of a life outside these walls, ensuring him that once he's ready, he will be there to support him and help him.
As Ben tells Callum about his week, Callum's mind once again wanders. Back to the night that cost him everything, his sanity, and mind and very nearly his life. Chris.
"GET DOWN!!" He hears his commander shouting from somewhere behind him, and he immediately falls to the floor, body flat against the dirt and dust. Callum's mind raced, his training popping through his head in a slideshow. Roll and tuck. Roll and tuck.
Callum looked at Chris, who held a small smile, reserved just for him. "Remember what I said Halfway, don't loose focus on what's important." Callum's nods vigorously. "Save the kid, get outta there, and don't get killed." He laughed, but Callum could tell he was scared, he could tell because he felt that emotion himself.
Crouching down, as low as his enormous height would allow, Callum slowly walked towards the building, the sound of rapid gunfire ringing in his ears. He didn't dare look for the source, instead focusing his attention on getting to the target, and back safely. The car drove slowly beside him, offering cover, safe passage. Well as safe as you could get in Afghanistan, whilst numerous bullets were spraying the warm air.
Entering the building he could hear crying, the sign of his target, becoming apparent. Following the cries, he spotted a little girl, no older than 5 standing in a corner, her mother holding her tightly, trying her hardest to sooth her daughters cries. "Hello, I'm Halfway, we're gonna get you out of here okay, it's gonna be okay." He offers a reassuring smile before turning to the mother. "I need you to follow me exactly where I stand, do exactly what I say, okay?" She nods so hard, Callum is wondering how her head is still attached.
"Let's go. Captain, I've got them, we're heading back now, requesting cover."
"Okay Halfway, cover in position, make your way back."
Upon hearing the command form his chief, he slowly begins to walk out the building, the gun heavy in his hands, careful where he places his feet. They make it less than a metre back to where they're supposed to be before he hears a click, the heart wrenching sign someone had stood on a land mine.
"NOBODY MOVE" he orders, until he can determine who it was, looking down, he notices it's not him, or the little girl, tightly attached to his hip. Turning gently he sees terror within his colleagues eyes as he looks down to where the little girls mother is standing still, her foot pressed gently on a mine. Chris is standing directly behind her. Callum watched in horror as an explosion lights the sky, followed swiftly by multiple more, the pressure triggering every mine within the distance. Grabbing the girl quickly, Callum runs, never turning back, until he's safely out of the land mine.
Turning, he watches as the field fills with smoke, embers of orange and yellow sparkling through the sky like fireworks.
"Chris..." he whispers to no one but himself, whilst the girl beside him screams for her mother. Both people lost forever.
"Hey, what's happening?"
Callum snaps back to reality with a crash, eyes wide and bewildered, his breathing frantic, heart racing faster than a car going at top speed. He begins to sweat, and feels as though his throat is closing, which in turn caused him to panic more.
"Cal look at me, deep breaths okay, you need to have deep breaths." Callum focuses his eyes on Ben, who is performing some sort of breathing exercise, his lips pouting as he performs them. Callum struggles to breath, feeling as though he is back in the mine, back watching the man who meant to most to him die.
"S'all my.. fault.. he died" Callum breathes out, in between his attack.
"Callum nothing is your fault, now I need you to look at me. Now." Ben's eyes come into focus, the blue of the sea dancing within them. "In and out"
Callum follows his instructions, allowing his breathing to regulate.
"That's it, keep going, in and out."
Before long Callum's panic attack has subsided, and he's being pulled towards Bens chest once more. He holds on to him, scared if he lets go, he'll leave him too. He'll be taken away from him. He couldn't shut his eyes, because all he sees is Chris, terror reining as he realised he was going to die.
"Cal, hear me out okay? What if... what if we went and visited Chris's grave? I mean it might give you some closure?"
Callum looks at Ben, panic forming in his eyes.
"I'd need to go out?"
"Well, yes, but I'd be right there with you. I've got you remember."
Callum thought about what Ben had said. Maybe visiting would be a good idea. Maybe it's what he needed. Nodding slowly, he begrudgingly flung himself in a shower, standing under scalding water, willing the memories that were burned in his mind to melt off and slip down the drain with the water. They don't.
Stepping out and into grey joggers and an oversized hoodie, he stood before Ben, who subconsciously ran his tongue across his lips at the sight of his boyfriend.
"Let's go."
"You can do this."
Pulling up to the cemetery, Callum's palms become sweaty, his heart races. They step out of the car, and go in search of his grave. It wasn't long before they found it, and Callum stood frozen on the spot. Ben presses a hand on Callum's shoulder, before walking away and sitting on a nearby bench, allowing his broken man some time to fix his pieces.
Chris Kennedy
05/07/1991 - 12/03/2020
Loving and loyal friend, special brother and wonderful son.
Bravely taken, always remembered.
Sinking to his knees, Callum runs a finger along the gold lettering. Tears spilling freely.
"It was never supposed to end like this Chris, you were never supposed to be taken from me like that. You should be here, happy, living life to the fullest. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you, I wanted to, and I think about it every night. Sometimes I wish it was me, I wish I had died. It would be better than this hurt, the constant aching I feel, the emptiness knowing you aren't here. Nothing helps, I sleep and you're in my dreams, I wake and you're in my vision. Psychiatrists don't help, they don't understand."
Playing with the grass, he looks over at Ben, who offers a smile and nod of encouragement, which causes Callum to focus back on Chris's headstone.
"I found Ben, well he found me technically, but you'd have loved him I reckon. I love him so much C, and he loves me, but I miss you. He had a special someone too. Paul his name was. He was taken from him before he should have been, so I guess that's why we clicked.
I'd give anything to go back to that day, I should have been more vigilant, I was in front. It was my duty to protect everyone with me, and I failed you. I'm so sorry Chris." Callum rests his head against the gravestone, heartbreaking sobs wrenching their way through his body, as the months of built up anger, hurt, hatred and pain surface. Anger at himself, for not doing his job properly. Hatred of himself for not being the one to die. Hurt at loosing Chris so soon and pain, from loving someone so much and having them teared away.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the letter Chris wrote for him, it was handed to him after the funeral, but never bringing himself to read it.
My H, if you're reading this, I've probably gone and got myself killed, but I want you to know things. I dunno what I'd do without you to be honest, you've been my rock. There's been times where I've wanted to pack it all in and go home, back to my mam and dad, and sis, but you've been there. You know how to always make me feel better, how to make sure I'm doing okay, and loving me without even trying. We have some right laughs don't we eh? You always seem to know exactly what I'm thinking. You don't even know how amazing you are, but remember Halfway, the world ain't as bright and kind as you, you're a good person and I don't ever want anyone to take advantage of you. I don't want you to blame yourself for this, none of it is your fault, and I wish circumstances could have been different, but life has ways of working itself out in the end.
See the world, be brave and daring. Find yourself a perfect guy, who'll love those ocean blues you have as much as I did. I will forever and eternally love you.
Folding the paper up gently, Callum allows a few more tears to spill over, before he places a hand on the stone.
"I'll do you proud Chris. I promise."
Standing up, he looks at Ben, who's been silently watching, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, but knowing he needed this closure to be done alone, before making his way over.
"I'm ready to go, I'd like to start coming regularly though, maybe we could even visit Paul's?" The question feels sensitive falling from Callum's tongue, but as Ben smiles and leans in to place his lips gently on Callum's, he knows Ben will do whatever it takes to make him happy.
They wander back to the car hand in hand, Callum, still hurting and needing to heal, but knowing Ben is by his side, feels his heart slowing fitting it's pieces back together.