The Traject

Author's Note: Here is the second part of the Life of D, this section covers the happenings and the fallout of the previous relationships and the multiple traumatic events that the character faces. The inherent truth about what lets people keep going through hell is those few victories that we can achieve, those few wins make the burns and scars almost seem worthwhile.

A word of warning, this chapter will contain some very graphic events that may trigger some flashbacks for some people, I don't mean to do this on purpose but rather this is just the course of events as they happened. We all have our own paths to healing, if you feel like you need help, please reach out to someone, anyone.

I hope that people are beginning to see a pattern in the stories in this particular chapter, especially as how they relate to the previous arcs that were covered in the pother series. Narrating a person's life through prose is a difficult matter, and I still feel that this way is by far the easiest way to lay it out on paper.

On a side note, to the anonymous commenter that emailed me to let me know how much of an asshole I am for not labeling the first installment of any of my series as Ch.1, I was extremely tempted to try to come up with a way to label all my stories in a way that did not require the numbers. Like I could've gone with the "A" subtitle just to mess with you, but alas. For the rest of you that have been supportive in this series, thank you for your support, it means a lot to me.

Much love,

aka_Mike

...

A Requiem for Rebecca

It had been ten months since I found out that I had become an unwilling bull, while I understand the oxymoron within the statement I just made there is something that I hope you can understand about me: above all I have a strict sense of morality. I know what is right and what is wrong in my eyes, I see the world in black and white. There is no room for shades of grey. When Ann told me about her pregnancy I knew that my marriage was over, the fact that she was pregnant by another person, I won't call him a man, made it very clear that our future was nothing more than a fantasy. When Barbara confessed that she was married, the sickening feeling and the awful taste of my pride being force fed into my body made it impossible to see her without wanting to harm her.

"You are an angry, angry man," Rebecca told me. She was a contractor like me, a former medic herself she was hired to help deal with the females in the villages we were visiting. Islamic culture rules make it very difficult for women to find any medical help as they cannot talk to males without their husband or father or brother present, this limits the amount of factual information they are willing to give.

"I have been sitting here quietly for the past 30 minutes," I replied. We were making our way to Baghdad for a resupply of medical supplies and to buy items that were requested by others in our headquarters. Our own shop there was limited as to what they would bring with them, the number of ambushes in the roadways had increased with the lowering presence of American troops in the area.

"Yet I can hear your angry thoughts," she laughed. She was a heavier smoker than I was, but when she laughed all the damage done to her voice from the tobacco just made her laugh even deeper and very pleasant to the ear. "If you don't want the promotion, I'll take it for you."

"It's not that," I lied. All my career I had been a grunt, a cog, a working bee. When the boss approached me and offered me a promotion to supervisor, I knew that it meant a bigger paycheck but less time out in the towns doing what I loved. "If I take the job, I would miss out on hearing that melodious voice of yours."

"You're so full of shit your eyes are brown," she laughed, "but seriously we all think you deserve that promotion. You got the most hours on mission, you're our go to guy with almost everything, you take care of most of our medical needs. The other guys already look to you for guidance; it's a no brainer to everyone but you."

"But if I become your boss," I replied with a thick layer of sarcasm, "how would I ever get to fuck your brains out?"

"Maybe I'll earn a promotion that way," her laughter returned. Truth was Rebecca was a true and tested lesbian, she has told me on many occasion stories of her past girlfriends. I wish I could say that those stories served as spank bank material, but I was still pretty messed up from Barbara to fully appreciate the value of those stories. However, sharing a laugh with her often made me feel a little more human, even if for just a few fleeting moments.

"You slay me, you temptress," I said as I grabbed my chest, pretending that she had broken my heart, "oh, woe is me."

"Drama queen does not suit you one bit, D" she laughed. "Seriously, how are you doing?"

"One day at a time, Reb," I was the only one that could address her by any other name than Rebecca. Think of that one girl from your fantasies, that one that you know is everything you would ever want, everything you would hope for: lips, hair, eyes, tits, ass. She has all that, but cranked up to overdrive. Because of her looks and her name, guys often would address her as Becky; it would take one look and a solid punch to correct that mistake. I don't know what gave me that privilege or how I earned it and continued to keep it, but nonetheless I appreciated her concern and friendship.

"You know, she was right about one thing," she continued, no one but her knew all the details about what had happened. With Dr. Cargill, I struggled for many days whether to tell him or not, I chose to spare him the pain and humiliation of learning his wife was a slut much like mine had been.

"What's that?"

"You'll find a good one, D. Even as broken and fucked up as you are, I'm sure you'll find one."

"I think I did," I replied, "turns out she's a lesbian." She playfully punched me on the arm, "I wasn't talking about you, I meant someone hot." This time, her punch was a little stronger and better placed.

"God, it's men like you that made me the way I am," she said in her sarcastic manner.

"Sweet heart," I replied, "there are no men like me left alive in the world." I knew her story, I knew exactly what she meant with that comment, it was something she had shared with me during our first firefight.

...

We had been called to help evacuate a few civilians that had been ambushed by a mob after being charged with burning the Quran. Even though we sped to the location, we arrived too late to do anything but secure the highly disrespected bodies.

There were three bodies, two males in their early 40s and a female in her early 30s. The bodies had been beaten beyond recognition, stripped of all clothing and soaked in gasoline. We had arrived to stop them from burning the male bodies, the townsfolk defiantly lit the female's body in front of us, in front of Rebecca. Before she could raise her rifle, I had already fired three shots, two struck the beasts that held the torches that had set the body aflame in their chests, the last bullet struck an older man that was running toward us. We immediately tried to take control of the scene, we screamed commands for the people to disperse as we secured the bodies. A Molotov cocktail flew through the air and lit the ground near us, we immediately sough the first building near us for cover and returned fire as the crowd dispersed.

"Reb, call for backup," I screamed, "the rest of you return fire. Keep an eye on the rooftops, if you see anything up there moving, blow it the fuck away." I looked at Rebecca, "Reb, where's my fucking backup!?"

"Ten minutes," she replied, "fuck, I don't think we have enough time to hold them off until then."

"Shut your fucking mouth and put some rounds down range," I shouted, "pick your targets, boys and girls, make the rounds count." As I looked at the other two members of our team, I continued, "you two, find a way to get up top, fire down on these fuckers. Go!"

"D," Rebecca said, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking they're going to try to flank us and hit us from above," I replied as I selected another target. Right before I could squeeze the trigger, the target hid behind a large series of walls and effectively made him out of range for any of my shots. "Deep breaths, Reb. You'll make it back home to some tuna tacos, alright?"

"You're an asshole," she replied with a chuckle, the panic was slowly leaving her, "a sweet guy, but still an asshole. The boys are on the radio," she continued reaching into her ear to get a better understanding of the situation above us, "air support is en route."

"Danger close," I said into my own radio, "fire for effect. Mark the building at the end of the road and get to cover." I grabbed Rebecca and pulled her into me, "if we go out, I want to go out feeling a great set of tits against my chest." In reality I was moving her into the more stable wall in the building in case it collapsed, and if we got buried together it would make it easier to dig our way out.

"I don't blame you," she replied as she wrapped her arms around me, "that's how I'd like to go out too." The loud sounds of the explosion came seconds before the walls of our hiding spot began to violently shake. Screams were muffled, the shots had ceased completely and instead the moans and wails from men and women alike filled the air. There was a loud pitch noise in my ears as the darkness around me enveloped me along with the heaviness of the collapsed walls. I could feel Rebecca moving in my arms, but she could also tell that we were trapped, if she was trying to talk to me I was unable to hear it.

I don't remember losing consciousness, nor how long I was out for but when I came to Rebecca was telling me her life story. "Sweet heart, I'm awake," I managed to crank out as I felt her grab me and pull me into her even tighter. "I'm fine, how long have we been here?"

"The boys said it wouldn't be much longer, probably no more than a few minutes. I felt you go completely limp and thought..."

"It takes more than a building falling on top of me to take me out," I said, grabbing her tighter, "but thank you for caring."

"You're the nicest guy I have ever met," she sobbed as she spoke, "I thought you were gone. That would've been just my luck, you know? I find a nice guy who actually sees me as a person, one with whom I can be around and be myself without being afraid that he would take advantage of me. For a second I just lost it."

"It would take more than a building falling on top of me to take me out," I got a sense of déjà vu as I said this, "Satan wants to keep me out of the Kingdom for a little longer."

"God, you're cocky," she laughed, the sobbing was gone. "You know if I had met you a few years ago, oh I'm sorry." She remembered that Barbara had said something similar to me, of all the people that I have gotten this close with, Rebecca was the only person that truly understood why it was so difficult for me to get over past lovers.

I knew that I was messed up in the head since the incident where my brother manipulated a situation and made me kill a household full of innocent people by illegally connecting wires in order to give them free utilities. This single incident made it difficult to make connections with other people, and as Dr. Cargill diagnosed, since I couldn't make connections with people I simply faked it. Not in the bad sense, instead of being able to find some chemistry with a person, I learned as much as I could about the person who interested me. In order for my mind to maintain a sense of connection, it built its own types of connections that created the difficulties. I would associate people with phrases, with actions, gestures, mannerisms, even with their possessions.

"It's fine," I replied, "but do finish that thought, I like where it was going."

"I'm just saying, and this could be the entire 'you saved me from death' situation that we have going on right now, but if I had met you years ago maybe I wouldn't be a lesbian." My cock began to stir, I'm sure that she could feel it growing in intensity and strength, her wriggling did not help matters. "Hey, when did you start carrying a side arm?"

"That particular model? Since I was born," I replied with an obvious and embarrassed grin, "your shifting is not helping matters."

"Oh god," she started laughing, "maybe the near death experience is affecting the stone cold killer after all. Maybe finishing my story will be a mistake."

"You damn tease," I replied, "just finish saying what you were saying, believe it or not this is the first boner I've had since..."

"Look," she interrupted, "I love my wife, I truly do. And I know she loves me as well, not once do I ever think that she is being unfaithful to me during these trips. At first, when I started talking about you she honestly thought that you and I were fucking. We got into countless fights because of that, sometimes we went days without talking. Do you remember the day we got ambushed?"

I remembered, we were escorting a local celebrity and humanitarian to one of the many United Nation meetings that took place. This was a high value target for the Insurgent forces, and because this was a celebrity and not a dignitary the private military contractors were tasked with offering protection. I was in the trail vehicle of a four vehicle convoy, Rebecca was in the lead vehicle with the celebrity and a decoy vehicle taking up the second and third place. It was her vehicle that found the IED, but with the extra armor in the undercarriage she was relatively well protected. We took our well-rehearsed positions, secured the vehicles and began to check the damage. That's when the second stage of their attack began, before we could fully recover, a large amount of Insurgent forces descended on our position firing small caliber weapons.

They flanked us and began to extract people from the first vehicle, before I realized it, Rebecca was being dragged toward the city, I knew that if they made it to the city we would never see her again. I still shudder at the thought of what those animals would have done to her had they successfully taken her. Without much thought, I fired on the two guys that were dragging her, the first one took a round to the back of the head and his gray matter covered the eyes of the second man. He was lucky that he did not see the round that exploded the back of his head when it exited. No sooner had the second man's body hit the ground that two others took up their position. They would each receive a shot through the chest for their efforts, Rebecca began to crawl toward the sound of my voice as I continued to fire.

Eight bodies later I was holding her in my arms as she wept, the calm and eerie silence that took over the once hectic battlefield made our adrenaline rapidly evaporate. She lost consciousness as she wept, the concussion blast finally overtook her and we quickly evacuated her; she would stay in the hospital for three weeks in observation before the doctors allowed her to return.

"I remember," I replied as I held her, I was not sure how difficult the memory was to her but it was difficult for me.

"That night when we made it back you called my wife," she continued, "she told me that when she saw the country code she was not going to pick up the line. But when she didn't answer, you called again and again."

"She answered on the third call," I replied, "she was not happy when she found out it was me calling."

"When she heard your voice," she said, "she thought that you were calling to tell her that you and I were fucking. That you had taken me away from her, D for the longest time she hated you. She didn't even know you but she hated you with such a passion because of some imagination of her mind. When you told her about what happened, she told me it broke her heart to hear you tell her how close it had been. What did you tell her, do you remember?"

"I told her that I had to apologize because I almost lost her love," I remembered, "I told her that I was sorry that I almost lost her baby."

"What she didn't tell you was that she was so convinced that you and I were fucking that she was going to go out that night with a few of her friends for the single purpose of getting laid. When you told her all that, it destroyed her completely, it made her feel like the bitch that she was being, and worst she realized how wrong she had been about you." Rebecca moved her body once more, "you saved my marriage without even knowing it, and you did it without anyone asking you to do it. You did it just because it was the right thing to do."

"I did it because I love you like a sister," I replied, "you are the closest thing to a woman in my life and I know that if it had been me with a wife back home I would appreciate someone informing her that I had been injured. Someone that could answer all her questions."

"When I finally called her she came clean about everything, and I hated her so much for it," Rebecca continued, "but you forced me to call her and when I refused you sat there until I made the call, you made sure she answered and made sure that I at least would tell her that I was doing fine. She told me you would call her and keep her up to date on everything that was going on, the more you talked to her and showed her who you really are, the more she hated herself for how badly she had vilified you in her mind. It was your pestering that made her get into counseling, it was your annoyance that made me try to save my marriage. If I knew there were guys like you out in the world, if I knew you were out in the world, I would've been the most loyal woman you could ever imagine."

I hugged her tightly, "I would've loved waking up next to you every morning, but that is just a fantasy and we are in the real world, Reb."

"Make me a promise, D" she said, "when you make it back home, promise that you'll stop by and meet my wife. Let her see you in person, let her know the real you not the bullshit façade that you carry around like a cloak."

"Anything for you, baby girl," I kissed the top of her head, "all you have to do is ask."

...

"Look," Rebecca continued uninterrupted as we pulled into the gate, "I am headed home soon and you'll have no one to sexually harass. Remember what you promised me?"

"A promotion for fucking your brains out? Yeah we just talked about it a few minutes ago, my head is not that fucked up." Another punch, this one right between my ribs.

"That you would make it back stateside and meet my wife," she whined, "you promised me you would."

"Yes," I replied, "I did promise, but remember that I don't head back until a few months after you do. The whole mandatory vacation time and all that shit."

"Well," she said with a high pitched noise in her voice, "you are going to have to let me know a week ahead of time before you take the flight back so that I can make a good welcome home party for you and so that I can make sure I am there to pick you up in the airport."

"You don't have to do all that, Reb" I replied, "I can just take a cab to your place."

"D," she said in a completely serious tone, "shut your mouth, it's the least I can do for you. I love you, and whenever you think you are alone in the world just remember that you have a family with us." She leaned and kissed my cheek, "and you're right, you are one of a kind."

We picked up the supplies and returned to our headquarters without much incident, Rebecca even used the time to catch up on some sleep. I truly loved this woman, she had become my world without even trying, and the more time we spent together the more I fell in love with her. Unlike the love I had for Ann or even Barbara, the love I had for Rebecca felt deeper, more innocent and more pure. I knew that even if I didn't wake up next to her every morning, this woman would never betray me, she would never abandon me, and she would never destroy me.