Lilcatdraws - Lilcatdraws

My cat is determined to prevent me from writing ch 7 😑 He won’t leave me alone lmao

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Seven - Discharged

Warnings: Elements of ptsd and trauma

Chapter Summary: Jack's platoon is back at the desert base temporarily until things calm down and new orders are given. During this time, Jack's injury is improving gradually, but it turns out he may have more than just his face wounded.

Author’s Note: I don't really have much to say about this one. I looked for a good cover image forever and this was the best I could do idk 🤷‍♀ I love it when y'all comment btw 🥹 It means a lot <3

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

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Tossing and turning in his bunk, Jack could hardly sleep at all. The intense pain in his cheek was keeping him up.

They arrived back at the base several hours ago. All of the other soldiers were fast asleep, exhausted from the past few days out in the field.

Jack and Davis were in their own separate quarters in a room down the hall. Jack was so glad to not be in the barracks. He honestly didn’t care where he slept but he appreciated privacy. 

Davis sat up above him and climbed down from the top bunk. As he reached for the doorknob, he saw that Jack was awake and rolled his eyes. 

“What are you doing up? You need to be resting.”

“Can’t. Hurts too much.” Jack mumbled as he rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Do you want me to get some pain killers while I’m out?”

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“Alright.”

Davis slipped out the door and returned a while later with a bag full of small pills. 

“The medic said to take two every few hours.” He told Jack.

Jack took the bag and shook two of the pills out into his hand. He swallowed them with some water from the canteen and laid down. 

“You’re going to see a doctor tomorrow, right?” Davis asked, climbing back up to his bunk.

“Yeah.” Jack replied as he nestled back into bed, trying to get comfortable despite the searing pain.

“Heh, lucky you. You get to skip out tomorrow.” 

Jack chuckled. “Aw, I hate I’m missing the fun.”

…

With a tired yawn, Jack sat up and dragged himself out of bed. He pulled on his tan shirt and camouflage pants and slipped into his boots, lacing them up half heartedly. 

His face was feeling slightly better but the pain was still there, lingering like a sour taste in his mouth. The pain killers were doing their job decently. He’d managed to get a few hours of sleep because of them. He took two more pills for the morning and put the bag away. Then he left his room and started down the hall towards the base’s medical center. 

Jack hoped the doctor wouldn’t find anything wrong with his injury and maybe do something to prevent the scarring, if it could even be done. The wound was so deep he knew it probably would. He wouldn’t care if it did. Looks were never his main concern. But if there was a chance it could be helped he’d take it.

He neared the room he needed to go to, approached the door timidly, and knocked. A man well past Jack’s age answered. He looked tired and disinterested.

“You must be Sergeant Napier. Come in and have a seat. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

Jack walked inside and sat down on a chair in the corner. The doctor left the room briskly with a clipboard in hand. Jack took in his surroundings. Next to him was a sink and a metal cabinet. Across from him was an exam table with a stool beside it. The tan walls were bare. 

The doctor came back about ten minutes later. He set his clipboard down on the sink countertop, washed his hands, and sat down on the stool next to the table. 

“This happened during the attack yesterday after shrapnel got lodged in your cheek, right?” The doctor asked, gesturing to Jack’s face.

“Yes sir.”

“Alright. Come up here on the table and I’ll have a look.” 

Jack walked over to him and laid down on the exam table. He stared up at the bright light overhead, noticing the doctor hovering over him in his peripheral. He focused on his breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly to keep himself calm, and kept his eyes on the ceiling. Doctor visits always freaked him out. Especially now with this sensitive injury.

“Open your mouth for me.” The doctor said, putting on a rubber glove. 

Jack did as he was told. He felt the doctor run his fingers along the inside of his cheek and lift it up slightly so he could see the wound. The doctor nodded to himself and took his hand away, removing the glove and tossing it in the trash. 

“So, the medics did a pretty good job with this. The stitches are put in well and it doesn’t look infected, just a little swollen but that's a given. It looks like there’s some scarring inside your mouth so be careful with that. That could get infected easily. Until it heals up, be careful when you eat or brush your teeth. Other than that just keep taking pain meds when you need them.”

Jack took in what the doctor said, his head spinning with information. Somehow he managed to remember his main question. “Okay. Um, will this leave a scar?” 

"It will definitely leave a scar. If you get home and you want surgery to fix it, it’s out there. Although I'm not sure there's much that it can do. I’m also not for certain if the VA pays for stuff like that. It would be considered cosmetic surgery. Either way, good luck. I hope this helped."

"Thank you, sir." Jack said as he hopped off the table and left.

…

The platoon stayed at the base the rest of the week, recovering from the latest attack and waiting on orders.

Jack's injury was ever so slightly getting better each day. By now it really only hurt when he ate or if he touched It. The swelling had gone down but it was still very red. It miraculously hadn't gotten infected yet and he hoped It would stay that way.

His physical wounds were healing but the same couldn't be said for his mental ones. He didn't even realize how much the war had affected him until the past few days. Every night he had some sort of nightmare involving the war.

As the days progressed the nightmares got worse and worse. Jack could hardly sleep. Since he'd been in combat he'd had a few bad dreams here and there but nothing like this. It was becoming unbearable.

The latest one had been extremely rough. He woke up from it sweating profusely and his heart racing. He also must've yelled in his sleep because when he got up to use the bathroom, Davis was awake and wondering if he was okay.

Jack was really hoping tonight would be different. Sleep deprivation was not helping him any. 

But of course the night he really wanted to rest he had the worst nightmare yet. It all felt so real to him. He practically jumped out of bed as he awoke, his heart about to leap through his chest. He took in ragged breaths and ran a shaky hand through his hair, which was dripping with sweat.

Jack felt something hit his chest like a ton of bricks, causing him to fall back. He struggled to breathe as his chest tightened and his heart raced. He was starting to think he was having a heart attack.

Without warning his vision blurred and an explosive streaked across the room. He let out a shout of surprise and jumped off his bunk, landing on the floor and covering his head with his hands. He stood up with wobbly legs and staggered out into the hall, his surroundings changing rapidly from tiled floors to desert sands.

Jack kept his hand on the wall as he slid down to the floor. His breathing was sharp and ragged. It was coming at him in all directions. An explosion, debris, bullets... Everywhere he looked there was a dead body next to him, bloodied and maimed. The fire was consuming him and seemed endless. His ears rang with shouts and gunfire that never ceased. 

Then he heard his name. Faintly and distantly at first. He heard it again and again but he still wasn’t brought out of the illusion. Eventually he felt someone shaking him by the shoulders. The warfare around him faded away and his normal vision returned. He blinked slowly as he came to.

Davis knelt beside him with his hand on Jack’s shoulder and a worried look on his face. Above them stood a Sergeant Major. That meant Jack’s attack was so bad that it could be heard down the hall and got his attention. 

Jack flushed with embarrassment. “I am so sorry, sir. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s alright, son. I’ve seen this many times before. Are you okay now?” The Sergeant Major asked.

“Uh, yes sir. I guess.”

“I think you should see someone. This looks like it’s severe. We had a psychiatrist come on base this week to evaluate someone else. I could have her schedule you in. Would you be willing to do that?”

Jack thought for a moment, very hesitant to answer. He glanced over at Davis. He was giving him a stern look and nodding his head which meant he probably should.

“That would be great, sir.” Jack replied. 

“Alright. I’ll inform Dr. Ellis tomorrow morning. Go get some sleep, soldier. You too, Sergeant Davis.” 

“Yes sir.” Jack and Davis said in unison as the Sergeant Major turned to leave. 

Davis offered Jack a hand and helped him to his feet. 

“Are you sure you’re good? You look pale.”

“Yeah. I’m fine now. Just a little shaken up. Let’s go back to bed. This whole thing has left me super drained.”

“I bet you are. That looked awful.”

They both walked back inside their quarters and closed the door. Jack took a sip of water from his canteen and wiped his brow. Davis reached for the light switch and flicked it off. Then they climbed back into their bunks.

“Davis?”

“Yeah?”

“What was happening during all that? What did I look like?” 

“When it first happened you screamed like really loud. So I went out to see what was wrong. I tried to snap you out of it but your expression was totally blank. You wouldn’t respond to anything. You were here but you weren’t if that makes sense. It took me forever to get a hold of you. What were you seeing anyway?” 

“Just…warfare. That’s the simplest way to put it. There were…bodies…and gunshots. I-I can’t put it into words.”

“This sounds serious to me. It’s probably a good thing you’re seeing a doctor.” 

“What if… What if they discharge me? I mean, they might see this as a liability. I had no idea this was coming and if it gets any worse I could cause something to go wrong out in the field.” 

“Eh, that could happen. I wouldn’t worry about it though. I thought you were thinking about leaving anyway. Your contract expires soon, right? This could be your out.”

“I don’t know yet. I thought about it. I’m still trying to decide. I really wanna go home and be done with this but at the same time it feels like quitting. I think I should at least try and do two more years to make it eight.” 

“Well, I think either way you’ve done enough. You’ve served for six years. That’s great. You’ve been on three deployments and every time it was in fucking Afghanistan. I’d say that’s time well spent. But in the end it’s up to you.”

“Yeah. I just don’t know...”

… 

Bouncing his leg and fidgeting with his watch, Jack waited patiently for the psychiatrist he was supposed to see. He was sitting in a chair across from a large wooden desk in a mostly empty room. There were two filing cabinets and a few boxes behind the desk and another chair shoved in the corner. 

There was a reflective mug on the desk in front of him. He noticed his reflection and stared at himself. His face was gaunt and worn out from the lack of sleep and his eyes were sunken in. He did not look 24 years old. 

Damn. I have got to get a handle on this.

The door flung open and a woman walked briskly into the room, interrupting his thoughts. She sat down at the desk in front of him and grabbed a pen and a notepad out of her bag. She had dark brown hair pulled back into a tight bun and wore Army issued glasses and uniform. She looked up at Jack and greeted him. 

“Sergeant Jack Napier? I’m Dr. Ellis. I was told about your incident last night. Can you describe it to me?”

“Um, well… It all happened so fast. I can only remember bits and pieces.” 

“That’s okay. Take all the time you need.” 

“I’ve been having these, uh, nightmares all week and last night I woke up from a really bad one. Then I don’t know, a few minutes later, everything went blurry and I started to see stuff.”

“Stuff like what?”

“I saw a grenade first. That’s why I ducked and crawled out into the hall. Then it got progressively worse. I saw explosions…bodies… All the gore that entails. It was like a complete warzone and that’s all I saw. The hallway disappeared. I could barely hear them calling my name. I just heard war sounds. They had to shake me around to bring me out of it.”

“Wow. Okay. You said you’ve been having nightmares all week. Were all of them about the war?”

Jack nodded.

“Have you ever had nightmares like this before?”

“A few every now and then. But not as frequent as this and not as bad.”

“I see. I’m just speculating here but, could it be that maybe these were brought on by the recent attack? Injuries are traumatic. War itself is traumatic. Maybe your mind has taken all it can handle and the injury you sustained was the last straw. How long have you been in the army?”

“Six years. Almost four of those were in combat.”

“Okay. What I think is happening is all the trauma you have experienced in about four years of combat has finally started to erupt after being repressed for so long. Do you think you’ve repressed anything at all?”

Jack thought for a moment. Looking back, she was right. All those times a bad memory resurfaced or he started to get anxious about something he would push it down and not think about it instead of dealing with it head on.

“Yeah… I guess I have.”

“And that’s okay. In this situation you felt like you had to. You’re in a war. Worry and panic leads to poor performance and that gets you killed. Does that sound familiar?”

“Yes.”

“Then you repressed your trauma as a means for survival. But that doesn’t mean it was healthy. Repressed trauma comes out eventually. In your case it came out through nightmares and now a traumatic episode. Have you ever experienced flashbacks at all?”

“Yeah. I used to get them a lot but for a while they quit happening as much. They came back recently.”

“Okay. This is all starting to add up here. I can’t really give an official diagnosis right now but I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on. I’d like to see you tomorrow. Is 0900 good?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Alright. This has been a good first session, Sergeant. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

…

The next day

“How are you today, Sergeant?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m okay I guess. Oh and you can just call me Jack. I don’t care.”

Dr. Ellis chuckled a bit. “Alright.”

She proceeded to ask similar questions to the day before and wrote some things down in her notebook. As the end of the session neared, she seemed to have a handle on what was going on. 

“Jack, it seems to me like you may be suffering from ptsd.”

“Ptsd? Oh… That makes sense.” 

“Yes. The flashbacks, nightmares, repression, and the traumatic episode you had are textbook symptoms. You meet the criteria for it.”

“So… What does that mean?”

“Well, I don’t really know. Since you’ve gotten this new diagnosis I have to inform the higher ups since it goes on your record. And because of this, especially since it’s becoming severe and you don’t know when episodes are coming, you may have to be discharged. They’ll make that decision soon. I can’t really say yes or no yet.” 

“Oh, okay. I was afraid of that.”

“I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you. But you understand why they would have to discharge you, right? With your ptsd, you could have a flare up while you're out on the battlefield. Then there's no telling what could happen. That is dangerous."

Jack nodded.

"So it's either be a paper pusher for the rest of your service or be honorably discharged. I think I know what you would rather do."

"I understand. Thank you for your time, doctor." Jack said as he stood up to leave.

"Of course. If you do get sent home I would highly recommend that you see somebody. I'm pretty sure the VA pays for counseling. There's resources out there. You just have to take them.”

“Thank you. I’ll look into it.”

As he walked out of the office, he sighed and rubbed his temples. 

Dammit. I knew this was gonna happen. 

…

Two days later

Jack wasn't sure how to feel about this decision. Hours ago he was just informed that he was getting honorably discharged and would be leaving the next day. Right before his platoon shipped out for another task miles away from the base.

On one hand he was a little disheartened. This felt too much like giving up. But he understood why they had to do this. It would be risky to have someone with frequent panic attacks (or whatever they were, Jack had no clue what to call them) out in the field.

On the other hand, Jack was glad to be getting out of the army. Like Davis said, he was thinking about leaving anyway. His contract was almost up unless he enlisted for a few more years. The war was also taking a huge toll on him. That was becoming more apparent by the day. Plus he missed his mother. 6 years was plenty for Jack. He felt that all this was justifiable for wanting to leave. Now that he was being discharged it made him feel better about it. 

…

Jack stood by his bunk, sorting through his things and packing his duffel bag. Some things were his and some things needed to be returned. He had no problem kissing this stuff goodbye. He was so done with military life.

Davis poked his head in the doorway.

“Hey, I heard you’re getting sent back home tomorrow.” He said, leaning on the doorframe. 

“Yeah, I was gonna come find you but I got busy.” Jack said as he finished folding a shirt and tucked it away into his duffel.

Davis sat down on the bed beside him. “Are you gonna be okay? I know this has been tough on you and it’s gonna be hard to adjust.” 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll find a way to manage.”

“Alright… Are you going to take her advice and actually see someone about this?” 

Jack shrugged. “Probably not. Maybe if it gets too bad.” 

Davis sighed. “Jack, I really think you should. They can help you. If you’re not careful this could spiral into something you don’t want it to.”

“I’ll be alright. Trust me. This is something I need to figure out for myself.”

“Okay, okay. I’m just worried about you, that's all. I’m really gonna miss you out here.” 

“I’m gonna miss you too. I’ve never really had any friends before. You’re a first.”

“Really? I’m glad we met then.”

There was an awkward silence between them for a few moments. Jack was not good at this sentimental stuff. 

Davis exhaled and stood up from the bunk. “Well, I should let you finish packing. Bye, Jack. It’s been fun.”

He stuck his hand out. Jack shook it firmly with a grim smile. 

“Bye. I’ve enjoyed this.”

Davis turned to leave but Jack spoke up again.

“Oh, uh, Corey?”

Davis paused and turned around. 

“Thank you.” 

Davis smiled softly and nodded.

…

Gazing out the window as the aircraft took off, Jack saw the desert below get smaller and smaller. It felt satisfying in a way. His military career was over and he could finally say goodbye to this hellhole for good.

He was ready to get home. Since he enlisted, he’d only visited home twice. And the last time he did was two years ago. The last time he talked to his mother was on the phone after he got promoted to Sergeant. He missed her so badly.

He could only imagine what she’d say about his new scar. It looked ghastly now that it was starting to heal up and the stitches were out. He knew she wouldn’t be disgusted or repulsed by it, more worried than anything, but he couldn’t help but wonder. 

He rested his head against the seat and decided to take a nap. Maybe he could finally get some much needed rest. And when he’d wake up, he’d be home and everything would be okay.

It's fanfiction it doesn't have to be perfect it doesn't have to be accurate this is a hobby you're doing this for fun it's okay if it isn't perfect and polished you're doing it for fun [talking to myself in the mirror]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Six - Injury

Warnings: Blood, gore

Chapter Summary: A surprise attack leaves Jack injured.

Author's Note: This is the chapter people! This is where things start to take a turn! We are finally getting to the part I actually want to write lol. I've managed to post 3 chapters this month. This is a huge win 🙌 But seriously, buckle in, this is a rough one. My poor Jack 😔

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

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Jack gazed out the window at the vast desert sands with a mix of dread and disdain. As much as he hated this place, there was a familiarity to it and a feeling of…fondness? No, that wasn’t it. More like a fondness towards the few good memories that this desert held but a bitterness at all the bad. 

This was Jack’s third tour in Afghanistan. Now holding the rank of Sergeant, he and another sergeant would be assisting their staff sergeant in leading a squad. This would be the first time he ever had any leadership so it did make him a bit nervous.

The platoon had just arrived at the base yesterday. In a few minutes they would be meeting to discuss objectives and meet with their squads. Stepping away from the window and collecting himself, Jack headed towards the back of the base where everyone else was. He did not need to be late. He hated getting fussed at.

After the higher ups gave a brief rundown of everything going on at the base and elsewhere, the squads met up. Jack didn’t speak much. He of course addressed the staff sergeant over him because he had to but he wasn't compelled to talk to the others. He gave a nod of acknowledgement here and there but nothing more. It wasn’t that he was annoyed or didn’t like them. He just never was a people person.

The other sergeant in his squad that he would be working with approached Jack. He stuck his hand out for him to shake and introduced himself. 

“I’m Corey Davis.”

Jack shook his hand firmly. “Jack Napier. Nice to meet you.” 

Davis smiled and moved on to talk to the other members of their squad. Jack observed him warily from afar. Davis had dark hair, a mustache, and light eyes. He was shorter than Jack but was well built and wiry. His demeanor seemed very friendly and sociable.

Great. Jack thought. 

There was something about outgoing people that bothered him. Maybe because they made his quiet, reserved self uncomfortable. Whatever the reason, he wasn’t sure if he would get along with this Davis fellow.

Boy was he wrong. After a few days of getting to know each other, they found that they had a lot in common. It turned out Davis lived an hour away from where Jack did. They both grew up in a small town. They both skateboarded. They both had similar tastes in music. Needless to say, they quickly became close. It was like they had known each other their whole lives. They worked great together, allowing their squad to operate like a well oiled machine.

Even several months into the deployment the squad rarely ran into problems. So far this was turning out to be the best of Jack’s three tours. Sure there was the immense heat and the horror of war but that was given at this point. Now that he had someone to go through it with, it wasn’t as bad. 

But just like previous deployments, everything could change in the blink of an eye. 

…

Today they were traveling through dangerous enemy territory so they had to be cautious. Two squads went one route and another two went the other route. According to intel, aggressors wouldn’t be anywhere near them. As long as they moved quickly and stealthily, they would be fine. 

Jack sat on one side of the humvee and Davis sat on the other. The driver and the staff sergeant were up front. Three other men were in the very back. The second vehicle was trailing along beside them.

So far the intel seemed to be accurate. The area was completely desolate. 

“Smooth sailing, huh? Man, it’s been quiet today.” Davis chuckled.

“A little too quiet.” Jack muttered. 

“Come on, Napier. Intel says we’re good. Ain’t nobody gonna bother us. We haven’t seen anything all day.”

“We still don’t need to let our guards down. This is dangerous territory, Davis.” The staff sergeant scolded from the front.

“Pshh. Why? God, this is boring.” A guy in the back whispered to another.

Jack heard and cast him a sideways glance. Just as he turned back around to face the front, it happened. Something hit the front end of the humvee and after a loud boom, it went up in smoke. The blast killed the staff sergeant and the driver, causing the vehicle to veer out of control and then stop abruptly. 

The smoke billowed inside the humvee and the fire was starting to spread. The men in the back turned to Jack and Davis. The two sergeants were left in charge now. They were speechless for a brief moment, unsure what to do. Then out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw another explosive flying right towards them.

“Get out of here! Now!” He shouted. 

He’d never opened a vehicle's door so fast in his life. He, Davis, and another man managed to get out in time. The other two were trapped in the back. There was no time to go back for them.

Jack ran with all the speed he could muster. It wasn’t enough. The vehicle exploded behind him, spewing shrapnel everywhere. A sharp chunk flew straight into Jack’s left cheek and lodged itself there. He screamed in pain and fell face first into the sand. Some glass from the humvee’s windshield strewn across the ground sliced his bottom lip. 

He found the strength to sit up a little and for a few seconds, he just knelt there in shock, clutching his injured cheek as blood poured down his face. Panic started to seep in and it made him forget everything. Where he was, that they were under fire, and that he had to run. Now. His brain didn’t seem to register that.

His saving grace came when Davis ran to his side and helped him up. 

“Jack! Snap out of it. We gotta go. Come on. We’re gonna make it.” 

Jack jolted as he finally came to and followed Davis. They ran to the remaining vehicle as they made their way to safety. Once everyone left alive was in, the vehicle sped off, fleeing the scene like a bat out of hell. 

Davis ushered Jack towards the back of the vehicle where the medics were. Jack was wincing in pain. He felt dizzy and struggled to walk without leaning on Davis’ shoulder. The other soldiers stared at the gory sight in horror. There was literally a huge piece of metal sticking out of the young sergeant’s face. 

The two medics laid Jack on the floor and removed his gear, tossing it aside. Meanwhile, Jack felt like he was drowning in his own blood. He groaned and gripped the metal bars on the seats nearby tightly. His face burned with more intensity than the heat of the Afghan deserts. Out of all the pain his father put him through, nothing came close to what he was experiencing right now. 

The medics assessed the wound and decided what needed to be done. They tugged on the metal to see if they could get it to move. It wouldn’t budge. Jack yelped at the sudden sharp pain. 

“It looks like we can’t just pull it out, sarge. We’re gonna have to cut it out and stitch up the wound.” One medic explained as he took out his tools.

Jack grimaced but nodded faintly in understanding. Anything to get it out. 

The medic began cutting with a scalpel as the other held Jack’s head still. Jack fought the urge to scream and groaned loudly instead. Each cut felt like fire. It was agonizing. He breathed in and out sharply, sounding like he was hyperventilating.

Finally the medic managed to get the metal out. Blood was splattered everywhere at this point. It was dripping from Jack’s chin down his shirt. As he took in a breath, he choked on the blood in his mouth. He rose up a little as a coughing fit ensued, spitting out blood onto the floor. 

The medics eased him back down and wiped away the excess blood so they could suture the wound. Jack saw the needle and braced himself. This would definitely be the most painful part. Especially since his face was not numb in any way. 

The first stitch was put in, causing him to cry out. He wasn’t expecting it to hurt that bad. He closed his eyes and tried not to cry but it was no use. The medic continued stitching as Jack whimpered and grunted in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks. His tough exterior had completely left the building.

“Last one.” The medic said as he put in the remaining stitch.

He cut the remaining thread and put the supplies away while the other medic picked the glass out of Jack’s lower lip and then wiped his bloody face with a cloth. The first medic grabbed a bottle of pills and a canteen from his bag. He shook two pills out into his hand. 

“Take these. It’ll help with the pain.” He instructed Jack as he handed him the pills and the canteen.

Cringing at the metallic taste of blood lingering in his mouth, Jack took a swig of the water and swallowed the pills. The two medics left him alone and moved to the front of the vehicle to make sure no one else was injured. 

Jack rested his head on his gear and turned onto his side, curling up into a ball. The burning in his cheek slowly began to fade out as the medicine started to take effect. He was so dizzy and disoriented from the shock and blood loss, he could barely keep his eyes open. Before he knew it, he was falling asleep. 

He woke up some time later and groaned softly at the shooting pain returning to his face. He groggily sat up and looked around. It was dark inside and outside the vehicle. Davis was sitting nearby. He noticed Jack get up and turned to him with a concerned look in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” 

“I guess so…” Jack mumbled. 

“We’re still an hour or so away from base. You should go back to sleep.” 

“Can’t. I’m already up.” 

Davis shook his head and held up his canteen. “You want some water?” 

“I have some.”

“But you’re running low. You need to save it. Just take some of mine.” 

Jack sighed and took the canteen from him. He took a few sips and then handed it back, relieved to have something to rinse his mouth. He knew he’d be tasting blood for weeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Davis asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine. But it really hurts to talk.” 

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll shut up then.” 

Jack smirked and took another sip of water. He laid back down again and reluctantly ran his hand over the wound. It felt puffy, hot, and swollen. Pain shot up his cheek as his fingertips grazed it. He just knew this was going to leave a scar.

His mind raced with questions. What would it look like? Would it be noticeable? Would this affect his mouth or how he ate? Should he see the doctor on base?

He sighed and decided to take Davis’ advice. This was a lot. He really needed to rest. He could process this later. 

Jack turned on his side and resumed his sleeping position. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, listening to the steady hum of the humvee’s engine and the beating of his own heart. It helped lull him back to sleep. The pain and the worry slowly drifted away. 

Sleep was awesome when he could get it. Most nights were a challenge for Jack. Lots of things kept him awake. Memories, nightmares, adrenaline… Something told him that from now on he was going to have a lot more of those sleepless nights.