Dishonourable Discharge: Grace Augustine

78

Grace shrugged off her jacket and hung it up on the coat hook by the door. "Ivy? I'm home. Sorry it took so long, I was looking over some things for Norm. They've made some pretty good headway so far." Grace wandered through to the living room, tugging her jumper off and tossing it in the direction of the sofa. "Fucks sake," Grace grumbled as her sweater landed centimetres away from the arm of the couch. She bent down to pick up her jumper and froze. A trail of blood was slowly soaking its way into the carpet. "Ivy? Doll? Ivory?" Grace's voice rose as she shot out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Grace's heart dropped. One of the kitchen knives lay abandoned on the floor, stained with drips of semi dried ichor. "Ivy?" The woman yelled, her heart beginning to pound. Grace thundered down the hall and into the bedroom, wincing as the droplets of blood got larger and larger.

"Ivy? Ivory?" Grace's voice cracked.

"Help me. Please, help me." Ivory's voice was half muffled by sobs.

Grace crouched down on the floor. "Doll?"

Ivory was huddled in a ball under the bed, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Ivy? Can you come out?" Grace asked softly.

Ivory didn't answer.

"Ivy I can help you if you come out from under there." The redhead struggled to keep her tone even as Ivory turned her head slightly, exposing a bloody cheek. "Ivy can you open your eyes for me? It's Grace. Grace Augustine."

Ivory shuddered.

"You're alright. You're safe. You're in America not Afghanistan. It's just a flashback. If you open your eyes you'll see that. Come on, you can do it." Grace coaxed gently. "Look, Tigger wants you," she said hopefully, catching sight of the ginger tabby that was burying his face into Ivory's shoulder. She slid her hands under her hips to stop herself from reaching out and placing a hand on her girlfriend's shaking shoulder.

Another bang echoed from outside and Ivory clamped her hands over her ears.

"Ivy it's just fireworks. It's just fireworks. They can't hurt you. I promise you you're safe. Come on, if you come out from under there I can show you. The noise is just fireworks, it's not a gun, it's not a landmine, it's just fireworks. You're in America."

Ivory opened her eyes but didn't let her hands drop back down to her sides.

"There you go. Well done. Good girl. Do you think you can come out from under there yet?"

Ivory was silent.

"If you come here to me I promise you'll be safe. I can show you where the noise is coming from. You'll see that you're safe."

Ivory slid out from under the bed on her stomach.

Grace swallowed hard. "Oh sweetheart your face."

Ivory raised a hand to touch her bloodied cheek.

"No, don't. You might make it worse." Grace said quickly. "Come on, come to the window with me." Grace held out a tentative hand.

Ivory kept her hands firmly by her sides but joined Grace at the window, standing in silence as shower after shower of brightly coloured sparks lit up the night sky.

"See? It's fireworks. You're safe. You're safe here."

Ivory's voice was hoarse. "I'm safe."

"Yes, you are. Nothing can hurt you."

"Nothing can hurt me, I'm safe." The dark haired woman breathed out slowly.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" Grace asked, her gentle tone worlds away from her usual loud, brisk New York accent.