"We are now arriving at Miami International Airport. Thank you for flying with Delta Airlines."
Amanda looks out at the ground below, the urban sprawl of the country she hadn't seen for over three years. Nothing has changed, not the tall cement structures nor the people who look like ants from this far up, but everything has changed. No, she corrects herself as she turns her head back away from the window, buckling her seatbelt over a thick sweater she hasn't had the comfort of wearing in who knows how long at this point, she's the only one who's really changed.
Because really, it's not the fault of the trendy cafes and crowded intersections down below that she sees everything differently now. They were the same as ever, if only a bit more frequent than when she had left. The brightly decorated signs seemed only tacky to her now, insignificant compared to what she had seen in her time in Afghanistan.
It was bitter, yes, a bit too cynical compared to how she had been before, but dealing with things she had never encountered before was necessary to her survival, and now that she wasn't at war anymore, that just didn't apply. Which she wasn't dealing with entirely well, considering she had spent years of her life abiding by rules she couldn't possibly follow anymore.
Everything was worse, so much worse, because she had been brought home now. The President of the United States had made the decision to pull the army out of Afghanistan, and Amanda was forced to return too, because though she was dedicated to what she wanted to do, she wasn't dedicated enough to trap herself in a country controlled by a terrorist group who just so happened to hate women more than almost anyone else.
So here she was, stuffed on a plane with her fellow enlistees, knowing she had failed her mission and she had no more chances to get it done, fidgeting anxiously with the blue rubber cushion of her seat as she feels the plane falling, falling, falling.
She pulls her carry-on from behind her, suddenly thankful she hadn't brought any luggage along, shoes clacking against the floor of the terminal as she walks wearily away from the plane she had been stuck on for 16 hours. She feels her legs cramp, but forces herself to keep going anyway. She'll be home soon enough, she can't give up now. An hour or two was nothing compared to three years, she tells herself.
But she had also told herself that helping Afghani schoolgirls get some kind of education while in the country would be a small feat compared to her military training three years ago, so her intuition wasn't exactly the most accurate.
She has a husband to get back to, though, someone funny and caring she had been wanting to see again ever since she left, and she was so tantalizingly close to finally getting him back that it wasn't worth a break.
Stepping outside into the warm Florida sun, humid from yesterday's rain, was a blur, with Amanda running on automatic as her thoughts swim around her. She hadn't been able to get any sleep the night prior out of pure adrenaline, and she had never had the ability to fall asleep on a plane, so she was exhausted, jet lagged, and just mentally tired in general.
So it's no surprise that when she manages to get a cab, a middle-aged white man greeting her gruffly, within minutes she nods off to the tune of car horns honking and the gentle lull of a moving vehicle.
.
There's only five minutes left in the car ride before Amanda arrives back at her and Drew's apartment and she's not sure if she's ready. She's rehearsed what she'll say over and over since she woke up after passing out in the car, but she's not sure she'd ever be prepared. Drew doesn't even know that she's coming, though she suspects he might have an idea considering the war had just ended.
But still, anticipation fills her body as she taps her finger against her bag, taking deep breaths. No matter what she said, no matter how nervous she was, she's about to see Drew, her husband, the man she had loved for years and missed dearly every second she was away. At this point, so close after so long, she's so desperate to be with him again that she'll fight through her own anxiety just to embrace him.
Hell, she even missed Danny a little bit. He had come over several times in the past to record videos with Drew or to simply hang out, and his sense of humor and personality had grown on her throughout the years. They weren't quite friends, but they got along well, even though Amanda did always get a bit uncomfortable when he got too close to Drew. It was obvious, to her at least, that Danny always had some sort of feelings for Drew. During their occasional hugs Danny got a bit closer than could be considered platonic, and whenever he visited he spouted a few flirty phrases that went completely over Drew's head. Danny was married too, though, so Amanda tried to squish the worst of her jealousy. Looking back on it, she might have just been overreacting.
The car rolls to a stop in front of her apartment building, looking a bit nicer than when she left, or maybe she just thought that compared to the dilapidated urban surroundings she had just exited. She quickly pays for her ride, only letting herself hesitate when she's gotten out of the cab and taken shaky steps to the front door.
You just came back from a war. You enter an apartment building, Amanda.
Time seems to disappear as she walks up the stairs and arrives at the door to her own apartment. Hesitation is no longer an option, not unless her goal is to scare Drew when he eventually opens the door to see his wife standing there without doing anything.
She knocks on the door.
And immediately, she half-regrets it. Not entirely, since she knows she has to do it eventually, but enough that she's tempted to run back down the stairs again. It's too late, though, as footsteps approach from behind the door a few seconds before it opens, revealing not Drew as she had expected, but Danny.
Immediately his draw opens, lips moving slightly as no words come out, as his eyes widen. He blinks a few times too, as if trying to get rid of a hallucination. She can't blame him too much - after all, she's been at war for two years, and wouldn't be surprised if she had been declared MIA - but it's still strange as hell to be treated like a ghost.
He turns around to face the inside again, yelling out a "Drew!" that almost sounds panicked. The footsteps come their way much more hurriedly than before, this time from Drew, and strangely enough...a toddler?
Danny's baby. It must be Danny's baby. That's her second thought, which relieves the absolute panic of her first instinct. The kid starts laughing, a high-pitched giggle coming from the chubby-cheeked little girl, that distracts her for a moment from
But her third thought is, Is that... a ring on Drew's finger?
It is.
And it's not the ring from her and Drew's wedding. Looking at Danny's hand, he isn't wearing the band he used to wear, either.
Drew's expression when he first saw her was ecstatic, but it quickly switched to panic mirroring Danny's face. Something is entirely off here, and it's not just overreacting, Amanda knows it.
Speaking of which, the toddler looking at her with a smile looks a whole lot like Drew, and strangely enough...Jake Paul?
YOU ARE READING
House of Silver
Fanfiction"...Drew? I thought you and Danny were just friends? I thought you just made videos together?" "Well, about that..." . Amanda finally returns home from her gone-rogue mission in Afghanistan as Joe Biden calls an end to the war and brings the troops...