Do You Remember?

Chapter Five

"Hold on, explain that again?" Ben sighed, rubbing his head. The three were sitting around the small coffee table in the family room. There were picture albums spread out on the table from when his mother was there. Claire and Tony shifted through picture after picture of their unit back in Afghanistan, trying their best to explain what was happening in each picture.

Ben rubbed his forehead as he listened to Claire explain their squad once again, "That's Marshall, James S. Marshall. He's some big-deal Sergeant in the Army and he is our Squad Leader." As she spoke, she pulled a crisp photograph of Ben smiling next to an older man who looked like he was in his mid-thirties. His brown hair was cropped short in the traditional army haircut, and he had the slightest smile on his tan face which contrasted with his tough frame and crisp, clean uniform.

Tony laughed as he pulled another image out of the scrapbook, pointing to himself and a female soldier who had her arm wrapped around his shoulders, "That's Moto, Elizabeth Yamamoto," Ben gently took the photo from Tony and examined it closer.

Elizabeth had jet black hair that was pulled up into a tight sock bun on top of her round pale face. She looked weather-beaten, but a huge smile painted her lips as if the world was one huge laugh. She looked extremely happy. Tony's brown eyes were trained on her, he also looked happy but in a different way.

"Eliza," Claire sighed as she took the picture back from Ben's outstretched hand and slipped it back into the clear pocket of the scrapbook, "She died in a firefight just a few days after you were sent to the hospital."

Ben's glance shifted to the floor. Numerous times while he was in the hospital or even when he was home, he asked why he hadn't just died. He ached for death at times, dreading waking up in the morning to another day of figuring out who he was. The loss of his own identity ate him up inside. But now? After having seen so many faces of people who were in his squad and so close to him for so long that was now gone from this earth forever? Now he regretted his wishes for death. If he could change something so he was there and could've died in there place, he would. He could barely remember some of these faces but he already felt a deep connection to him.

Tony cleared his throat as he shifted his gaze from the wall back to Ben and the scrapbooks. "We were in Battalion 2, 4th Division, 2nd Company, 1st Squad," Tony tried his best to explain to Ben, "Our squad was me, Morison here, Moto, you, Keller, and Marshall at the time that the accident happened."

"About that," Ben spoke up, shifting a bit to fix his slouch, "I don't know the whole story. They told me that I was in a humvee with two others and as we rounded a corner...."

Claire took a deep breath a stood up abruptly, "Sanchez, I can't. I thought I could do this but it's too much," she raked a pale hand through her red hair before making her way out of the room towards the kitchen. The sound of the faucet running told Ben and Tony that she was getting herself a glass of water.

Tony took a deep breath himself and turned back to face Ben, a smile plastered onto his face, "She'll be okay. This is just really hard on her, she already lost you once in combat and this is like losing you all over again."

Ben glanced down, biting his lip as he wrapped a blanket tighter around his broad shoulders. It felt like all he was doing recently was making people upset. He knew it wasn't his fault that he couldn't remember, but it didn't keep the guilt from creeping in as he watched Claire wipe away tears as she leaned against the counter in the kitchen.

"Back in Afghanistan, you were in a Humvee with Claire and Marshall and Claire's dog. As the Humvee rounded a corner, Marshall wanted to scout the area for IEDs, improvised explosive devices," Tony added as he took in Ben's confused face, "So Claire and her dog, Patriot, went out to scout the area. You had this feeling - at least that's what you called it - that there was an IED in front of Claire. So you made the dumbest decision of your life and called out to her, telling her to stop. Against Marshall's orders, you ran out to Claire and ended up kicking a few pebbles onto an IED that was not but a few feet away from you.

Luckily, you shielded Claire and Patriot from any major injuries." Tony sighed as he glanced toward the kitchen where Claire was leaning against the counter, staring absentmindedly into a glass of water. "The three of you were shipped immediately to the nearest military base where they were able to quickly mend Claire's fractured arm. She was sent back into combat about a week after the accident. You, however, suffered a much worse fate. Marshall was pissed off that you had disobeyed his orders, but we all knew deep down that he just wanted you to come back to us as soon as possible. Of course, that didn't happen. You were stuck in this stupid coma and wouldn't wake up. There was shrapnel buried deep in your chest and arms and the nurses and doctors at the small makeshift hospital were too inexperienced to mend your injuries.

So they sent you to England. We found out that you were out of your coma from your mom. She had sent us all a large care package full of candies and letters from your little sisters. She wrote Marshall and told us of your condition. You were on the plane home at the time that she wrote the letter. We were all obviously relieved that you were okay. However, we were so scared that you'd be lost for good." Tony wrung his hands and glanced up at Ben with a small smile. "You need to try to remember Novak. If not for the squad, at least do it for her," He nodded towards the kitchen where Claire had he head in her hands, silent sobs racking her body.

Ben nodded, looking back toward Tony, "I will try my best."