WARZONE - König

18

Nadja enters the shower room stripped from her uniform and bandages, spinning the faucet as a waterfall of water came spitting out the grimy shower head. She steps between the privacy walls into the hot water, holding her hands out first as she let her body grow accustomed to the heat, then fully submerging beneath it, the steaming streams hitting her skin and stinging her wounds. She couldn't help but feel defeated as she stood there with her head down, reflecting on the past week in the warzone. 

She watches as the dirt from the surface of her skin and hair swirls in the water falling down the drain, leaning against the wall as her leg still ached her. Surviving a week in the warzone had been a harrowing experience. She had seen things that would haunt her for the rest of her life. The constant sound of gunfire and explosions ringing in her ears, the fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins. Even now, she felt the weight of the constant danger bearing down on her at all times.

And though amidst all the chaos she found a sense of purpose-- fighting for something bigger than herself, she still felt resentful towards the superiors who had sent her into the mess underprepared with no back-up. She thinks back on the captain and Price's words, how her long-time friend and Commander Graves was dead, but most importantly how he could turn on his own comrades and leave her abandoned. 

She truthfully felt defeated, looking to her shoulder wound as the water washed the dried blood off, then to the still fresh stab in her thigh. As water drips off her nose, her hair falling over her face, she takes the bottle of bodywash, squeezing a heavy load into her hands and begins lathering it along her body, careful not to let it enter her wounds. 

Washing all the sweat and dirt off, she continued to her hair. As she lathered it in a shampoo with a sweet smell, she began reflecting on how far she'd come despite the challenges, pushing away the negative thoughts as she tried to shed light on the outcome. She had always been a strong-willed woman, but this experience had tested her in ways she never thought possible. 

She had emerged from it stronger, more resilient, and more determined than ever before. She had learned to trust her instincts, to rely on her training, and to never give up, even in the face of the most daunting challenges. And so, as she rinsed off the soap and stepped out of the shower, Nadja knew that she was ready for whatever the world would throw at her next. She was a soldier, a fighter, and a survivor, and she was proud of the person she had become, bearing her scars proudly despite knowing the damage this trauma would leave on her beyond its physical marks. 

She takes a towel, drying off her clean hair and body, pinching her lips tightly trying to restrain from hissing in pain after the towel dragged across her bullet wound in her shoulder. As she wraps it around herself, she opens one of the unlocked lockers, finding on the shelves folded pairs of black sweatpants with USMC printed in yellow along the thigh, as well as unopened packs of tank-tops, underwear, sports bras and socks. She happily finds the sets that fit her small but sturdy frame best and slips back into her dirty combat boots after dressing herself.

Meanwhile, Konig walked into the shower room alone, his body still tense from the week he had just survived in the warzone. As he stripped off his gear and stood in front of the mirror over the sink, he removed the hood covering his face, revealing his features for the first time in days. His face was caked in dirt and sweat, and he could see the fatigue etched into every line and crease. 

His eyes averted away from his own reflection, eyes of a beautiful cold blue, looking to the showers where, still in his underwear, he turns the showerhead on, letting the room fill with steam. He strips and steps beneath the stream, the hot water soothing his aching body after a week of intense battle. As he stood under the stream, his eyes fell to a large purple bruise on his arm that he had sustained during the mission. 

He knew immediately what it originated from--his tumble down the stairs with Nadja. The guilt of putting her in harm's way still weighed heavily on his heart. He couldn't help but replay the events of the mission over and over in his head, wondering what he could have done differently. He had always been a skilled soldier, but the intensity of the warzone along with going out of his comfort zone to work alongside a partner made even the most minor mistakes deadly.

But as he lathered up his body and hair, Konig realized that he couldn't change the past. All he could do was learn from his mistakes and use them to become a better soldier, even if that future was to never be by Nadja's side again. He knew that he couldn't go back to his old life and forget everything he felt and experienced. The time spent in the warzone and the comrade he made along the way had become a part of him, and he would carry it with him for the rest of his days.

And knowing he and Nadja both returned safely and successfully motivated him to continue on with his head high. He wouldn't let the years he spent alone working on himself become meaningless over this. Whether Nadja would accept his feelings or continue to flee away, he had to take this new experience and use it to better himself as a man and a soldier. 

And so, as he rinses off and dresses himself, both he and Nadja exit the showers with refreshened minds and bodies, feeling more positive as they were given time to decompress.