The Soldier Next Door

I have put Gibbs into danger; the very thing I was protecting him from has now threatened to take his life. My decisions were reckless and it has left a man lying on a bed fighting for his life. If anything bad has to happen to him, then I shall simply just fall into shattering pieces to the floor. He was there for me when life threatened to take my light away and I shall be there for him.

The doctor has just finished operating, and he is lying completely motionless. I have been the only one allowed to sit by his side, even if I was not, I would have still do it. I will not allow a fellow Marine but, most of all, a friend to lay here all on his own.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

As I watch his frail body lying tucked underneath the white sheets, he looks calm, too calm. I cannot help but move my ear to his mouth to listen to his breath, he is still breathing. It comforts me for just one moment.

What else does comfort me is that wherever he is, that he knows that I am here for him. That the squad is here for him. He cannot and he will not leave any man behind, he cannot leave us behind.

With this strong in my heart, I lean further into his ear and softly whisper for only him to hear, “You are fucking going nowhere. Do you understand me?”

But then as I order him that he shall not leave us behind, I think to myself, did my orders not go too far? Did I not push the boys too far? Maybe we should have come back after they took us a prisoner. Was that not a good time to realize the it is not safe to be out there? But he knows the risks that come with the job, though should that be a comfort whan you are lying on a bed fighting for your life?

And fight I know he is going to do, he will fight with every last bone that he has in his body and even beyond that he will fight some more.

So this is where I sit, I sit with him and yes, a big old Marine, is sitting and holding the hand of another. They will have to carry me out on this chair if they want me to leave, and even after then I will still come back.

Then a short while later, I hear Lewis at the entrance of the tent calling for me.

“Liteaunent.”

“Yes, Lewis?”

“Can I offer you a bottle of water?”

“Of course, come in side.”

Lewis, whom I am going to assume has not seen this type of scene, reluctantly comes to sit next to me. He turns even paler than Gibbs, but yet he holds a strong face. The boy is good and he is going to become a great Marine one day. But he also has the biggest heart in the squad.

I see that he is studying my face, which has not emotion whatsoever, “Liteunant.”

“Yes, Lewis?”

“How can you remain so calm? I would be going beside myself.”

“For one, you need to show strength, and two, Gibbs would not want you to lose your head over something he knows that he is going to overcome.”

“If I may ask. How do we know for certain?”

“We don’t. But what we have that none of those assholes have is faith. Not only in ourselves but in each other.”

“Well then I will have some extra faith just for him. But I need to get back, Lopez is going back out.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, he says that it has now become personal. As he says and eye for an eye, but even better a bullet for a bullet.”

“Tell him I send my luck, I am staying out for this one.”

With that, Lewis leaves the tent, putting some newfound faith that I thought I was lacking back in this fight. This is a battle, a whole new battle. And this is one that we will win.

I met Gibbs when we joined the Marines at the age of eighteen. To say that we were a little lost and scared was an understatement. We both decided from the beginning that will go through everything together. We refused to split up, we practically, much to the joke of the rest of the platoon, joined by the hip. He had my back and I most certainly had his. We went from being shot, stabbed, taken hostage, and even blown up together. There was absolutely nothing that we would not do for each other. And he proved that the day he carried me out of that building and made his commitment even more clear to me as he stayed by his bedside.

So does this constitute as paying a due? No. This is a friend. A concept that very few seem to understand. Yes, we all are like brothers around here, but there is that one person that just makes you feel an extra closer bond with. A bond that is not about to be broken.

And yet another man that I have grown a bond with is Williams; he is the very man standing at the door and has been standing there since we brought him in. The three of us made the unstoppable team that we are known for around here. If this is killing someone, it is killing him just as hard. He deserves to be here.

“Hey, I know you are hovering there, come in before you kill yourself with frustration.”

“You sure, the nurse is not going to throw me out?”

“God, I am going to throw her out. Now come before I change my mind.”

With very small hesitant steps, he comes and pulls up a chair on the otherside of Gibbs’s bed. I can see that his eyes are puffy from crying, which does explain why he is hiding out be the tent as well. One thing a Marine does is you do not cry; it is a weakness. Yes, it is good to cleanse your soul and clear your mind, but it is bad when you have to show your face to the world.

Once he is able to speak, he clears his throat, “Is our boy going to get through this one?”

“He will, I don’t think for one minute that he will give up. Yet, and I think I have said this so many times too often, this is what happens under my leadership. It happened before and it has happened again.”

“Come on, listen to yourself. You cannot decide for those assholes, if they decide to do the shit they did today, then they are going to. It has nothing to do with what you say.”

“But that is where you are wrong. He should not have been up there.”

“Okay, then who? Someone had to be up there. It is just how it works.”

“It should not be.”

“Listen, we know what we signed up for when we were kids; this was something that we wanted to do. There is always going to be the risk.”

I know that he is right.

But this is not about me; this is about Gibbs. The man that is normally big ass and strong, the man that lays here with what seems to be but a mere shadow of himself. A shadow that will become a light.

And as I look up at the clock, I know that the start to the countdown has begun. Not the countdown of staring death in the eyes, but the countdown until he is going to open his eyes. And believe me, once he does, I am punching him in the fucking face for scaring the shit out of me.

With not really caring for much, I take his hand into my own. Now, if I thought he would be warm to the touch, I have just been sadly mistaken. He is and has somewhat less color on his skin. Once again, I put my ear closer to where he is lying to heat the faintest of his breath. He is still breathing. It is shallow, but it is still there. Yes the machine will tell me, but I do not trust anything that is beeping in my ears.

Another thing that also scares the shit out of me is the tubes and needles that are just flowing from his body. I think the only reason it scares me is that I have been here before and I do not want Gibbs to be there.

And from across me sits Williams, somewhat nervous to hold Gibbs’s hand; he only but sits there and waits. That man is not moving until you make him move, and so is this man. Right now, Gibbs needs friends, not Marines, and we are the only two that he has got.

So we prepare ourselves that will be the longest wait of our lives.

Now, now all I can do is just wait…