Chapter 4: my girl

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TW: swearing, military themes, ptsd episode, supernatural themes.

Song: to you alone
Artist: Tom Rosenthal

Willow's pov:  

(Almost two weeks later)

The sky is a shade of soft sapphire, the sun shining and the atmosphere mostly warm and friendly. Almost as if everyone has forgotten about her death. People greeting each other, slapping each other and playfully punching their friends.

"Corporal. Boss." We get greeted upon arrival at the air strip. Sir beside me, I've been staying at his house since the incident with Noah. Physically, I don't want to deal with any of that right now; however mentally I think everything is effecting me a lot more than I let on sometimes. But only sometimes. Hardly ever, very rarely... not like everyday or anything.

"Sargent." I nod my head as my boss greets him back. I shake his hand, "We're boarding soon, get the cargo in that pile. Then team photo over there." He points to a green slit of grass covered in the teams' bergens already there, and then over to where Skull is stood with his fancy camera.

I throw down my bag before wandering over to my team, five of them messing around beside Skull. He's still quietly trying to set up his camera as the others laugh at some joke Tanner said.

Skull is the quiet one, hardly ever says a word— even after a couple of drinks. He has fair skin and hair but always has a small smile on his face. He's funny when he talks, with his quick remarks. I swear his brain works so damn fast.

Tanner is a bit older than the rest of us, his hair is dark brown but going grey around the edges— as much as he tries to hide it with strange Turkish hair extensions. He's the 'clown' of the group, loud and obnoxious but not in a bad way. Tanner is divorced from his wife and has two young children: Sammy (6) and Gwen (8). The rest of the guys make fun of his daughters name, it was always an inside joke apparently. He keeps a photo of them inside the back of his phone case, always.

García is the same age as me. He moved up from New Mexico when he was seven, always wanted to be a soldier like his big brother. He's like a brother to all of us. He's the tech guy in our platoon, the guy that always knows how to jump-start the radios when comms are out. He has tanned skin and dark hazel eyes. His family lives just outside of Beacon County, he's the one I visit the most when we're on leave— but usually we just go clubbing somewhere in California and meet the rest of them there.

Roselyn is the only other woman I work with— love her with my entire heart. Her hair is brunette and naturally wavy. She joined special forces a couple weeks before me, she's my sister from another mister. She took Simmons death as hard as me, maybe even harder as they knew each other longer. Her eyes remind me of dark forests, reminding me of the healthy vegetation back in America when we're out in the great plains of the world.

Finally our boss is there. Dan Wilson. The man who always takes me in when I have no where to go or just want to hide from the world. He's our tours dad. He's one of us— obviously stern when he needs to be— but he really is just one of us. Around Tanners age, no kids of his own though. He was my training officer back when I joined the training program.

These people are my family.

"Right!" Captain Wilson shouts towards us, "Get in open order for the photo." Upon command, we stand in three ranks, do our dressings and stand straight, as still as statues.

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