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Anthony's POV
As the Boeing C-17 bringing us home finally began its decent onto the tarmac of Los Angeles Air Force Base, California, Pepper and Happy both stood by awaiting our arrival along with a medical team and ambulance. The latter prepped and ready to go as soon as we got Sophie transferred onto it.
The moment the wheels hit the ground everybody around me began moving fluidly, prepping the aircraft and those deplaning.
As the ramp lowered, Rhodes appeared at my side once again to support me, however my only priority right now was Sophie. They'd stabilised her as best they could at the base back in Afghanistan while we switched aircrafts but there was only so much they were able to do. She needed a hospital.
The flight home had been a whirlwind of medical jargon and phone calls. I was surprisingly happy to finally meet Timothy Robbins, so far the only person in Rees life that she had told of our true relationship. I found myself mentally approving the guy, judging by the fact that he had yet to let her out of his sight, he truly loved her as I did.
Apparently his sister was also a Dr so the moment they told us that Ree would need to see a neurosurgeon, he called her to get the name of the best one she knew. Twenty minutes later I'd persuaded a Dr Derek Shepherd to get on the helicopter I was sending his way to meet us at the hospital. The rest of Sophie's team had informed me they would be at the hospital as soon as they had debriefed their superiors.
Stepping onto the tarmac, I made sure to keep ahold of Rees hand as I walked alongside the stretcher carrying her. Pepper stood, shifting her weight back and forth beside the ambulance doors with Happy awaiting us.
"Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long-lost boss?" I quizzed her.
"Tears of joy. I hate job hunting." She scoffed, staring at Sophie.
"Yeah, vacation's over. Meet me at the hospital?"
"Go, be with her. We'll be right behind you." She confirmed as Happy nodded at him vigorously.
I jumped in the back of the rig just before they slammed the doors behind me and we were off. I couldn't help but stare at how peaceful she looked despite the state she was in. I refused to let go of her hand.
. . . . . . . . .
Silence.
Before I even opened my eyes, I knew something was very wrong. I was drowning in the silence that engulfed me.
The tube currently fed down my throat, previously breathing for me was now constricting the airway as my body began to breathe on its own. Trying not to panic I began to cough and grab at the ventilator tube in an attempt to pull and remove it. In no time at all a nurse and a Dr came barrelling in. I allowed them to remove the tube safely while I calmed down.
It was as I turned my attention to the Dr that I knew my career in the forces was over. His mouth was moving, but the world was still silent.
Once the nurse had finished clearing away the tube and administering what I believe was morphine, she left me alone with the Dr. He smiled gently as he pulled out a notepad and pen in order to communicate with me. He introduced himself as Dr Shepherd, the neurosurgeon that operated on me.
Turns out the initial explosion had done the most damage but my not being able to get medical help followed by further explosions meant that my hearing was completely obliterated in both ears. The multiple stab wounds and grazes from shrapnel along with the bullet wounds to my leg and stomach had been fully stitched and bandaged. My broken leg had been reset with a Ilizarov apparatus being installed to repair the damage. That wouldn't be coming off for a while and I'd need extensive physio once it did. If it weren't for the vibranium in me, I'm pretty sure I would have had a fair few more broken bones.
