we keep this love in a photograph

Chapter 71

They kept Rosie in hospital for a week, and by that point she was on her way to recovery. She'd suffered another infection a few days before, from too many open wounds exposed to dirt and bacteria, but after another round of antibiotics she'd recovered well. Her burns had healed to shiny new skin, her scabs were starting to fall off to reveal pinkish skin beneath, and her stitches had been removed, leaving behind puckered beginnings of scars that would fade to white with time.

Her broken bones would take weeks yet, if not months, but she'd put on a healthy amount of weight, no longer looking quite so hollowed out and frail, and the IV had hydrated her thoroughly. After another day of observation, Rosie was discharged.

Jennie had some reservations about it after sitting through a few more days of nightmares, of thrashing and screaming, but even she had to concede to Ashley's point that a familiar home might be helpful. To be in her bedroom might prove to reassure her unconscious mind that she was home and safe while asleep. Perhaps the nightmares wouldn't be quite so bad if that was the case.

They decided on Portland for the time being, the quietness of the sea and a small town a better place to convalesce than a bustling city. Taeyeon made plans to stay in San Francisco for the meantime, offering Jisoo a hand running the company while she took care of Athena for Jennie and readied the house for when they came back. Jennie almost wished her mom was coming with her but never would have said - it always felt easier to be bluntly honest with her mom than anyone else in the family, like she could've said anything and Taeyeon wouldn't have held it against her, understanding her anger, her frustration, and dismissing it.

The truth was Jennie was angry. The last week had been the best and worst of her life, gratitude for every moment she got to spend with Rosie the main feeling, yet overshadowing darker ones - all her worry, her grief, her fear, her anger. How could she not be angry, knowing the truth behind Rosie's suffering? They'd been briefed by Major Hank and Colonel Haley, discreetly informed of the major oversight that had allowed a dozen of their own to be killed. And now Jennie had to sit and watch her fiancée shy away from her touch, wake from awful nightmares, wrapped up in thoughts of pain and suffering.

For her part, she spent most of her time at Rosie's bedside - as much as she could - reading poems to her, flipping through magazines, filling her in on funny anecdotes and old stories Rosie had already heard but she repeated for her now, just for something to talk about. Rosie mostly stared at her in silence, watching her as she listened to her talk, and Jennie was left with the vague notion that Rosie wasn't there at all - not mentally, at least - and she didn't know how to bring her back.

The day they left, it was raining in Germany. Jennie had never appreciated the dreary weather so much before, grateful for something in such sharp contrast to the relatively arid climate of Afghanistan, hoping that it would provide some comfort to Rosie, and serve as a reminder that she was far from danger. Turning away from the window at the sound of the bathroom door opening, Jennie gave Rosie a small smile as she watched her awkwardly hobble out, her flowing pants hiding most of the cast on her foot.

"Ready?" Jennie asked, reaching for the handles of the overnight bag full of things for Rosie.

Giving her a faint smile, Rosie nodded, looking more like herself in a plaid blue shirt, her hair in a ponytail and her scratched glasses on her fuller face. Still, one foot was in a cast and she was stiff with her movements and quite aloof as Jennie picked up her bag and moved to help her. Rosie ignored her hand - or more unlikely, didn't see it - and lowered herself onto the wheelchair Doctor Parker held steady for her.

"Let's go home," Rosie said with weary resignation, slumping in the chair as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

They were escorted to the airport in military vehicles with soldiers to escort them and were passed through security quickly, everything readied for them as quickly as possible on military orders - something money couldn't bypass for them. In short order, their luggage was stowed and they were seated in the plush interior of the jet, food and drinks laid out and the engine whirring as the aircraft was readied for takeoff.