Apathy

Krill peered around the doorframe into the captain's quarters, he definitely planned on speaking with him about Sunny, this was the third time in two days she had slammed her head into a doorframe because she wasn't looking: mostly because she was listening to music. To keep the integrity of her skull, he thought it might be best to limit her music time, for her health or course.


When he came around the corner, he found Captain Vir kneeling on the floor with Waffles, scratching her behind the ears with one hand and fitting her into a vest with the other. Krill was only just beginning to understand the human script but he thought he read.


Service Dog DO NOT TOUCH.


"Captain, what is that?" He wondered, completely forgetting his earlier question.


Captain Vir looked up from where he knelt rubbing the dog's ears, "Oh, It's her service vest." When Krill didn't seem to understand, the man continued, "Sometimes human's train dogs to help people with stuff like a disability, medical condition or mental illness. The vest allows her to go into places other dogs can't."


"Oh.... Is that because of your leg than?"


The captain shook his head, "No, I used to have pretty severe PTSD after coming home from the war. I don't so much now, but sometimes I have my days."


Krill shifted a little nervously, "May I ask...." He trailed off not sure how to phrase the question.


Vir grinned at him, "Krill, you know you can ask me anything right, but I get what you're trying to say... the war ending was actually worse for me than the war itself."


***


Lieutenant Vir lay on his bunk in the dim lighting listening to the sound of the ship's distant engines. His missing leg throbbed. Even with it gone, it was still destined to haunt him. Door opened a crack, he listened with apathy as the Captain spoke to one of the other officers


"How are they?"


A long pause followed, "About as good as you'd expect."


The captain gave a long sigh, and Vir could hear the sound of his clothes shifting, "Well, we just started our descent, so get them up, and let's get these boys home."


***


Vir sat in the shuttle as it rocked underneath him. He looked down at his missing leg, and the shitty surplus prosthetic they had given him, the knee didn't even bend forcing him to limp around on crutches. He had already fallen more times than he could count. He squeezed his eyes shut as the ship rocked harder trying to force down the panic as the sound of the ship's engines grew louder and louder in his ears. His leg throbbed with the beating of his heart, and his breathing sped up.


They touched down some minutes later his head ringing as the shuttle coasted to a stop and the doors were opened. He gathered up his crutches and levered himself to his feet limping horribly at the awful prosthetic and his stupid crutches. He slipped coming off the ramp landing hard on his side. The soldiers on the tarmac rushed forward to help him up, but he angrily shrugged them off. They stepped back hesitantly as he struggled to his foot, hip smarting. He could feel his eyes growing hot with unshed tears, but he forced those down too angrily limping away from the ship head down. He didn't want to see their faces, the pity, the cripple.


He felt so stupid angry at that idiot boy obsessed over aliens and UFOs. If he had just been normal, none of this would have happened. Even the thought of aliens made him sick, made him want to curl up, to run away, though he couldn't even run now. His throat tightened; he felt as if a massive hand came down to constrict his chest. Still nursing his bitter thoughts, he was ushered through a door into the terminal, and there he saw them. His mother and father waiting for him by baggage claim.


They saw him too, and he watched the look on his mother's face as her eyes widened, and her hands shot up to cover her mouth. His father's expression never changed much, but now an expression of anger, and then horror shot though him for a small moment. Upon seeing them, the hotness returned to Vir's eyes.


They met him halfway, his mother crying, and his father stoically silent. She wrapped him up in her arms in a way that she never had before. This time, he couldn't contain the heat, and he felt the tears beginning to spill down his cheeks as he rested his head against her shoulder.


***


The sky above was blue, or it should have been. Everything seemed so grey these day. Vir sat on the back porch of his childhood home scanning the shrubs at the back of the yard for signs of movement. He didn't mean to do it, it was just habit at this point. His head snapped to the side thinking he had seen a flash of blue form the corner of his eye, but no. He went back to scanning the trees acutely aware of the emptiness that so haunted him. From his new spot on the porch, he was just able to hear any conversation coming from the kitchen. He had heard a lot of conversations about him these days, about how he wasn't himself, about how their happy boy was gone, about how he needed help, about how the VA sucked (yeah, about a thousand years later and the VA still sucked).


He would feel bad for his parents, if he could FEEL anything, anything but anger, or fear. He couldn't go out in public anymore, he got overwhelmed in crowd, and sudden noises had him ducking for cover. The more crowded an area, the more flashbacks he got, the more panic attacks.


And he still couldn't walk very well. That made him angry. He just wanted to run, to get away from his problems, but you can't run from your problems when you can't even run. He dropped his head into his hands, but looked back up almost immediately scanning the yard once again.


A hand on his shoulder, "Adam."


The flashback was immediate and violent, the Drev looming against a blood red sky. Pain.


When his vision cleared, he was on his feet, and his mother..... she was backed against the doorframe hand to her mouth.


She was bleeding.


He stepped back, "Mom... I.... I'm." And then he ran, as much running as he could do. He slipped on the floor barely catching himself on the wall before running into his room and slamming the door locking it behind him. He slid down the other side of the door shaking staring at his hands stomach churning in abject horror.


He was a monster.


He dropped his head against his knee biting his hand to choke back the sobs.


He could hear them knocking on the door begging him to come out, to talk to them. She wasn't mad, she was sorry, she shouldn't have snuck up on him, apologizing like it was her fault, when everyone knew it was his. He bit down even harder filling his mouth with warm copper.


Around the room, posters stared at him with accusing eyes. Accusing alien eyes.


Aliens.


He closed his eyes but could still feel their staring at him their accusations. What right did they have to accuse him, after taking his leg? The anger welled up inside him, until he couldn't contain it.


With all the hatred he had pent up for them, he clawed his way to his feet, he ripped the posters from the walls throwing them to the floor, tearing them into pieces, he smashed figurines spilling glass across the floor, he ripped pictures from books, tore sketches from drawing books until his hands were bleeding.


Outside, his father hammered on the door demanding to be let in. His mother cried.


***


He lay on the floor amidst the pages and the glass removed from everything wallowing in apathy. The anger had trained away to be replaced by the nothingness. The voices outside his door ad stopped hours ago, after he had acknowledged to his parents he was still alive. They were worried, but his father hasn't been able to break down the door. He had tried.


A soft click, the door swung open.


Adam turned in surprised to find David kneeling at the level of the door holding a set of lock picks.


He was alone.


"Hey baby brother, you look like shit."


Adam turned his head away, "Just leave me alone."


David moved forward standing over him, "No, Adam, you crossed a line today. I know you're sick, and it isn't your fault, but it's time to get help." David reached down and grabbed him by the shoulders hauling him to his feet with an immense amount of strength, "Come on, let's go."


"I know a guy, and he's promised to get you help."


***


They sat in the waiting room Him and David filling out the final paperwork. His brother had been a pest, but at least he hadn't treated him like a glass sculpture. He talked to him the same, joked with him the same, and told him when he was being a jerk. It was annoying, but it was kind of nice.


As he was making the last signature something padded across the floor. There was a light pressure on his knee, and he looked down to find a large set of brown eyes looking up at him.


The dog wagged its tail. The vest glittered red and black in the overhead lights.


A woman stood a few feet away smiling as the dog shoved its snout forward forcing him to stroke its ears. It made a soft grumble crawling halfway into his lap resting its head against him as he ran a hand down her soft fur.


He smiled for the first time in months.


Waffles was a good girl, she help him during the flashbacks and the panic, the stopped him from continuing with poor coping habits, she led him away from overwhelming areas, and she kept people at a safe distance when that didn't work.


Slowly, he got better.


***


He sat on the floor with Waffles sitting next to him, "And this is a Rundi, I saw them the most when I was out. They fought with us in the war, fast suckers, but they couldn't take a hit worth a damn. I should have more information around her somewhere." He shuffled through the pile of papers with waffles resting her head on his knee staring up at him with big brown eyes.


A soft knock at the door.


He looked up to find his mother standing there. He smiled at her and she beamed back walking in to sit next to him reaching over to rub waffles across the belly. The dog grumbled, "Who's my favorite girl?"


"Mom, I think I'm ready to get back to work."


She beamed, "That's great Adam, what are you going to do?"


He sat running a hand over his new prosthetic, it had helped a lot over his old one. All the joints articulated, even the toes (which definitely helped his balance) after months of physical therapy, you couldn't even tell he was missing a leg. He even managed to stand up on moving busses so others could have his seat. He took the dog out for daily runs regaining the fitness he had lost during those long months after the war.


"I'm going back."


She looked confused, "Back to where?"


"The army, mother, I want to see the rest of what's out there."


She didn't much like that idea.


She was very worried about what would happen if he were to ever meet a Drev.

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