"Hood!" I look over to Lieutenant Kipps, "Get your ass in that tent and get some sleep. We need you up at 0400."
I nod sternly, "Sir, yes, sir," before making my way to my shared tent with another solider, who I have tried to not talk to much. I don't need to get close with someone who could die tomorrow. I've made that mistake before.
When I get in the tent, he is sitting there, looking at a picture I know to well. My eyes narrow, and I walk over to him, going to rip it out of his hands, but he's quick to move it, keeping it in his stupid hands. "Who's this?"
"None of your business," I scoff, "Now, give it back."
Now he scoffs, "Calum, I know you're all stone cold and all, but talking about your life at home helps. I know you want to keep it all bottled up, but it only makes you miss them more."
I roll my eyes, mostly because I know he's right. I can't talk about them, though. Once I start, I know I won't stop.
I take off my heavy pants, and sit on my bed, looking over to see my other pictures are gone from under my pillow too. I look back over to him, seeing him now looking at all three.
"Wilks, I won't say it again, hand it over." He rolls his eyes at me.
"Who is she?" He asks, holding up the picture of me and the blue haired girl I miss so much. I can feel my face soften by just looking at her, I hope she's okay right now.
"Kitten." I say out loud for the first time in months. I look down, don't fucking cry, Hood. Not in front of this man.
"Kitten?" he asks, looking back at her, "Is she your girlfriend? Wife?"
I laugh lightly, shaking my head, "She's my best friend."
He doesn't say anything, and I can't believe that I am actually saying this shit, but he's right, I need too.
"Her name is Cat, we met in high school. We uh- She's-" I clear my throat, "She's just Kitten. She just gets me."
He nods, now holding up the picture of my family, "Is this your family?"
I nod, "Those are my parents, and that's my sister Mali." I look down, seeing their initials tattooed on my hands. Fuck. I really think I'm going to cry.
Now he holds up the last picture, waiting for my explanation that he really doesn't deserve, but I give it to him anyway. "The blonde girl is Grace, blonde dude is Luke, guy with red hair is Michael, long brown hair is Ashton, Kitten is next to him, and the girl with red hair is Ronnie." I look down again, closing my eyes at her name, "They're um-" I clear my throat again, "They're my people."
He gets up, handing me the pictures. I take them in my hand, staring at the picture of us from that day in the parking lot before Luke left for Yale. That was a great day.
"This is uh," he pulls out a picture from under his mattress, hesitantly handing it to me. I look up at him, before taking the picture of him, a little girl, and another guy, looking at it. "This is Dan, my uh- my husband."
My eyebrows raise in slight shock. I wouldn't of guessed he was gay. I mean, like, Kitten always tells me that I'm oblivious to that shit, like when a guy at a club came up to her while we were "together", and told her he liked her dress. After I got jealous and Kitten realized, she informed me of his sexuality, and that it was very obvious. I don't know, man, I guess I really just don't care about it, nor find it a defining factor about someone. If you're a good person, you're a good person.
"That's my daughter Jill," he continues, "She's growing up, and I missing it."
"How old is she?" I ask, staring at the little red head girl standing in between the two men, smiling widely. She's missing a tooth.
"5," he sighs, "her birthday is this weekend."
"Damn," I shake my head, handing back the picture, "I'm sorry, mate. I'm sure she is so proud of her dad, though."
He smiles, "I sure hope so."
"Cal?"
"Calum, are you alright?"
"Calum?"
I blink a few times, taking myself out of the other world I was in. I look at Kitten, who is standing next to my damn hospital bed. I smile slightly at her, trying to not let her see how much fucking pain I'm in. Fuck, I feel like it would of been better if they chopped off my leg.
"Hey, Kitten," She smiles back, leaning down and kissing my forehead, making my smile go just a bit wider. I hear someone else come through the door, and see it's Grace.
"Well," I laugh lightly, "What do I owe for the pleasure of having both Catherine Batts and Grace Macs in my hospital room?"
They both roll their eyes, before laughing. "How are you feeling, Cal?" Grace asks.
"Um-" I debate on lying and saying I feel just peachy, but I honestly don't have the energy to keep that going. I'm a weak son-of-a-bitch. "My leg fucking hurts, and I feel like I have a knife constantly in my abdomen. But other than that, I feel okay."
Kitten looks concerned, so I wave her off, "I'm fine, it could be worse."
She shakes her head and Grace comes over to the bed, "You know you get to leave here tomorrow."
"I know," I nod, "I can't believe I have been here for a week already."
"How has walking been feeling?" Kitten asks, "Any better than yesterday?"
"Yeah," I shrug, "I just need to crutch, which sucks."
"But I guess it's better than not walking at all," I sigh, and Kitten is quick to stop me, "Doesn't mean that what your going through isn't difficult, Cal," her hand is holding my arm, "Don't sell yourself short."
I shake my head, "I'm just glad to be with you guys again."
Grace smiles, her eyes a little watery, "We are too."
