A Soft Touch

Chapter One

            Breathe in. Breathe out.

The sound of his own harsh breathing echoed in his ears. The noises around him blended to create a white noise in the background. Incomprehensible. It hardly registered in his head.

Frozen. Time stood at a standstill.

In. Out.

He tried to slow his breathing. He held onto that little bit of control.

Everything was spiralling. Blood poured from him, creating a crimson pool around his body. So much blood. Everywhere.

Focus. You need to focus.

The pain was unbearable, causing vomit to rise into his throat. Was this what it was like to die? It was excruciating.

He couldn't keep his eyes open, but he needed to. His eyelids were heavier than lead, but he struggled to keep them open. Things were fading quickly. The edge of his vision blurred as his breathing slowed. His chest barely rising with each inhale.

"Hold on Sloane. Please hold on..."

*

"So, how does feel to be a free man?" The doctor asked, balancing a clipboard on her tiny hip. Her long, blond hair was pulled back from her face tightly to reveal her broad smile as was navy regulations.

"Better than you will ever know," Sloane said happily. He'd been itching to get out of the hospital for months now, but they'd made him stay to make sure he was dealing with his injury well. He was a marine. A little pain made him who he was.

When he'd joined the navy the threat of danger had always been apparent. The threat of death always hung over his head, but he'd loved his work. He liked knowing what he was doing was helping people and his country. But there was no training that would have prepared him for that.

"What are you going to do now that you're free to go?" She asked curiously. She couldn't help wondering. Sloane had been under her care for a long time and they'd grown close, almost like friends- if it wasn't for the professional boundaries that came with the job. She looked forward to checking on him each day.

"I think I'm going to go home," he said sounding a bit unsure. Dr. Elliot didn't comment on his sudden turn of mood but the sad look in her eyes told him that she'd noticed.

Sloane hadn't been back to his hometown in a long, long time; not since he enlisted. It already felt awkward. He hadn't talked to his family in months. Would they still be happy to hear from him?

The last time they'd heard from him was when he'd first been brought to the military hospital. He'd told them what had happened, but he was in a bad place. He'd treated them badly over the phone and said some things that he couldn't take back. It was something he deeply regretted.

"They miss you, you know," Dr. Elliot said so softly Sloane had to strain to hear her as she continued with her discharge exam.

"How can you be so sure?" He questioned. If he was them, he wouldn't want to see his face again. Not after the things that he had said.

"Because they love you and they've been sitting by the phone waiting for your call, for someone to tell them that their baby boy is ok. Their heart pounds every time the phone or doorbell rings and they dread answering it because they know what could be looming on the other end," she said insightfully. Sloane could only stare at her in shock.

He finally noticed the grey laced through her long blonde hair and the soft wrinkles around her mouth from years of frowning. Something inside of him just clicked and he knew what she'd been through. His heart pulled for her.

"How old was he?" He asked, noticing the shiny layer of tears that made her eyes glisten.

"Twenty-four," she answered sniffing.

Sloane was the type of man she wished her son would have grown up to be had he lived another decade or so. He had great morals and cared about people, the type of person the world needed more of. The bad just outweighed the good out there sometimes.

"I'm sure he was a great officer and an even better son," he said with a smile.

She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by someone entering the room. Sloane turned his head to greet the visitor. He smiled when he realized who it was.

"Hey Liam," he greeted recognizing his friend. They'd been deployed on the same ship and had grown close. He'd been there when it had happened. Luckily, he had remained unscathed.

"Are you ready to go?" He quizzed. Liam hated being in the hospital, everything was so cold and unfriendly. He shifted in the doorway, clearly displaying his discomfort of having to be there. Being there for his best friend was more important than his obvious displeasure of being surrounded by the white walls and the ever-present smell of disinfectant.

"Trust me, I've been ready for months."

Sloane swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up on shaky legs. He swayed slightly as he got used to standing. Liam and Dr. Elliot watched him, ready to rush forwards if needed.

Even after the months of physical therapy, he still struggled.

"Are you good?" Liam asked warily. He didn't trust Sloane's legs not to send him crashing back to the floor.

"Yeah I'm fine," Sloane said, pushing Liam's arms away. He appreciated the gesture, but he didn't need to be waited on constantly. He was a big boy- and a stubborn one at that.

"If you're sure," Liam said, removing his arms. He handed Sloane his cane, which he accepted gratefully. He may be stubborn, but he did know when to accept the help.

Sloane's movements were slow as he made his way out of the room. His gate was sloppy as he lumbered into the hallway, his cane tapping against the floor. Every movement still caused pain to shoot up his bad leg. The pain was bearable now, but it was a constant reminder that he would never be the same again.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Elliot. For everything," Sloane said turning back around to face her. He gave her a one arm hug that she couldn't help but accept. He offered a sincere smile. He had to admit, he would miss their chats during her daily rounds. She made this place more bearable.

He took one look back at her as they headed out of the hospital room. He couldn't help but notice the sad smile that crossed her face. This was it. He was finally free.

Now what?