Trial And Error

Forty

Kian's POV

The next few days flew by quickly. After the day the two fell asleep curled up on the couch, Kian and Madison hadn't seen each other. Kian was really starting to feel the effects of not being with the musician. But Madison was busy with the demands of being a pop star, and Kian didn't want to be a bother. Plus, Kian had her own job to worry about - she would soon need to go in for a physical exam to make sure all her injuries had properly healed.

Even though Kian knew they wouldn't ask about her mental wounds, the Lieutenant was still worried about the evaluation. She kept putting off making the appointment, dreading it immensely. Every time she thought about it, Kian pushed the thoughts away. At least she and Madison had found a suitable trauma therapist specialized in treating PTSD in service members - Dr. Laurel Davis. With her Penn State and University of Chicago degrees, the doctor was extremely qualified. Her office was conveniently located between both their homes too, which made Madison happy.

After getting the therapist squared away, Kian had another nightmare that night, and every night after. She never told the artist, not wanting to worry her when she was so busy. It wasn't like Kian hadn't dealt with the nightmares alone before anyway.

Kian felt the control she had finally gained starting to slip through her fingers. She could feel herself falling back into that dark place, and she hated it. So Kian started going to the boxing gym for hours, running through sparring partners like tissues. Despite her lack of sleep, her body didn't fatigue at all - she was filled with a frenetic energy.

Kian's mind was consumed with thoughts about how her first therapy session would go and how much she missed feeling Madison's skin against hers. She also worried about the outcome of her upcoming physical exam. If she didn't meet the requirements, she wouldn't be cleared for active duty. That would mean waiting even longer, and Kian didn't know if she could handle that. Just sitting at home, working out, and running was becoming too mundane without the excitement of work. She yearned to put her uniform back on, see her fellow Marines, and to feel their energy.

With each punch at the gym, Kian put more and more power behind it until pain shot through her entire hand - from her knuckles all the way to her wrist. But she shook off the pain, letting it leave her body and turning it into pure hot anger instead.

Kian continued unleashing her pent-up rage on the punching bag, ignoring the throbbing pain in her hand.

She was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down her face and neck as she landed blow after blow with animalistic intensity.

"Hey, take it easy Lieutenant," the gym owner called out cautiously. "You're gonna do some real damage to those hands if you keep that up."

Kian barely registered his warning, too lost in her own head. All she could focus on was hitting harder, envisioning the bag as every enemy she had ever faced. She thought of the terrorists who took her team, the ones who did this to her. Kian let out a feral yell as she slammed her fist into the bag with all her might.

A sharp crack rang out as pain exploded in her hand. Kian stumbled back, clutching her swollen and misshapen hand to her chest. The adrenaline drained from her body instantly, replaced by debilitating pain.

The gym owner rushed over, concern on his face as he guided Kian to sit on a bench. He carefully unwrapped her injured hand to examine it.

"You've definitely sprained it badly, Lieutenant. You got lucky it wasn't worse," he observed as he gingerly moved her hand. "You'll need to take a break for a while to let this heal. When you get home, ice it for 20 minutes at a time. And go easier next time - you might not be so fortunate."