Won't Happen Again

7

Anon prompt: Erin and Will helping Jay with PTSD

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It started out normal enough. Jay knew immediately who the 'unknown number' FaceTime was from. He settled on the couch in the empty apartment and answered it.

"Hey man," he greeted Mouse.

"Hey back, how are you man?" Mouse asked cheerfully.

Jay looked him over. It was the first time he'd seen his face since he left, all their recent sporadic contact being either phone calls or email. He looked healthy enough, dressed in a plain t-shirt, sitting in a nondescript military base room. The fire was definitely back in his eyes. But it was the cut above his left eyebrow that had Jay skipping a beat before he answered Mouse.

They talked for a bit, Jay catching Mouse up on all that he'd missed since he reenlisted. Mouse was understandably vague about what he'd been doing and where in the world he was but based on recent news reports Jay didn't have to guess hard.

Erin had popped in at the end and said the words Jay couldn't get past his throat but wished like hell he could.

"Mouse!" She'd exclaimed coming up behind the couch and leaning in over Jay's shoulder, kissing him hello on the cheek.

"Hey Lindsay, you taking care of our boy?" Mouse had laughed.

"Always," she said giving Jay a knowing look. "We miss you so much, we love you, be safe," she'd said with genuine love in her voice and then left them privacy to finish their conversation.

We miss you, we love you, be safe. Jay kept repeating it in his head, hoping Mouse had gained some sort of telepathic abilities in the months since he'd been gone because for some damn reason he couldn't say the words out loud. All the while Jay's eyes kept darting back to the cut on Mouse's face. It wasn't much, barely a scratch, but it took Jay's mind somewhere it didn't want to be. It made Mouse deploying real, reminded Jay of what Mouse was actually doing over there, what they had done together over there before. The possibility of Mouse getting hurt, of not being safe, again, stared Jay in the face. The torn blood stained skin on Mouse's forehead taunted Jay and reminded him how he had no control, no say, no way to defend against what Mouse was facing over there.

He couldn't sleep that night, or the next and again after that and Jay's usual remedy, staring at the tv, was unavailable since Will was working days and still crashing on his couch.

It had been the mind numbing drone of late night tv that had kept him sober once he finally smartened up and decided to give living a try.  The months of drinking till he was blackout drunk were loosing their ability to shut his brain down and Jay was considering new ways to block things out. So when Mouse turned up and smacked some sense into him, Jay turned to tv since falling asleep sober was impossible. Staring at the tv prevented his thoughts from taking over and drowning him those first few nights and that had quickly become a habit. If he was being honest, falling asleep in front of the tv hadn't made him better, he'd just swapped out alcohol for documentaries, soon relying on the warm glow of the tv to hold off the assault of memories and feelings.

So without the balm of late night channel surfing Jay took to sneaking out early for runs and late evening trips to the gym to pound the memories down, beat his mind into submission and exhaust his body in an effort to sleep. He needed to keep a lid on everything seeing Mouse's damaged face had woken in him. It was threatening to bubble up and boil over and Jay had too much at stake now to go back down that hole. He WOULD control this.

But if loosing control was Jay's biggest fear, guilt was fast on its heals and Jay had guilt in spades, more shades of it then he knew what to do with.