Just Remember to Breathe (Thompson Sisters)

you have big gaping holes in you. They started me out on morphine, believe it or not. Holy cow, that stuff is dreamy. I’ve been trying to get them to keep it to an absolute minimum. A little pain won’t kill me, but drug addiction will.”
    I nodded, just listening.
    “The uh… Paxil… Well, you know. I told you I’ve got some uh, anger issues. Post-traumatic stress. Depression. All that fun stuff.”
    He sounded almost ashamed of himself.
    “It’s okay, Dylan. That’s perfectly normal. Half the people I know are taking Paxil or something like it.”
    He shook his head. “Yeah, well, I’m not a big fan of drugs of any kind.”
    “Except your cigarettes.”
    He shrugged, then smirked at me. “That’s different. Think they’d notice if I had one in here?”
    “Yeah, I do.”
    He frowned. “Bummer.”
    We sat in silence for a few moments. Then he said, “It doesn’t bother you? The anticonvulsants and all that shit? I’m like taking half the pharmacy. I could break down and have a seizure any time; it still happens sometimes, even with the pills. I can’t even get a driver’s license because of it.”
    I frowned. “Does it bother you that I’m on birth control pills?”
    Dylan nearly choked, and I got to see something I hadn’t seen in years. He blushed.
    I started to giggle, then broke into real laughter.
    “Okay. You made your point,” he said.
    I still snickered a little, so he decided to turn the tables on me.
    “So, now that you’ve mentioned the pill…” he said.
    “No. Not ready yet.” I shook my head, a little theatrically.
    He raised his eyebrows, grinning.
    “Stop that.”
    “Stop what?”
    “Stop eying me like I’m a piece of meat.”
    He grinned. “I was thinking more along the lines of… hmm… strawberry shortcake?”
    “Oh, no. You are so not going there. I am not short. And you are ridiculous.”
    “That’s why you love me.”
    We heard a loud cough and throat-clearing behind us, and the doctor whisked the privacy curtain to the side. “This way, please, Mr. Paris.”

    Screw the rules (Dylan)

    Before the long, long night at the emergency room was over, I tried twice more to send Alex home. She refused to go. Instead, during the hours I was waiting for treatment, she lay curled up on the chair next to me, her head resting in my lap as she slept.
    The last time we’d been like this, her sleeping next to me, was on a plane a thousand years ago.
    It was four in the morning before we finally got out of there. By that time, my hand was wrapped in a heavy cast, immobilizing the fingers. Two of my finger bones had been fractured, the skin torn open on all of them. At one point, when Alex was out of the room, the doctor had suggested I come back to see a psychiatrist and possibly seek out some anger management classes.
    “Look,” he said. “We see a lot of guys in your situation. You’ve been in combat. I’m guessing you’ve lost friends.”
    I nodded.
    “It’s not unusual to have long-term emotional responses to this stuff. Combined with the brain injury, it could be a real problem for you.”
    I sighed. “I was seeing a therapist at the VA in Atlanta, before I came up here for college.”
    “I think you need to consider setting up an appointment here.”
    “I already spend three mornings a week at the VA for physical therapy.”
    “So one more won’t hurt.”
    I nodded. “I suppose. I’ll do it.”
    “Good,” he said.
    A moment later Alex returned, carrying two large cups of coffee, and the doctor changed the subject.
    In the cab, after leaving the hospital, she said in a sleepy voice, “Just come back to my place for the night?”
    I swallowed and took a deep breath, a flash of anxiety running through me.
    “Are you sure?” I asked.
    She nodded. She was leaning against me, arms wrapped around my waist, as the cab cruised up the dark, nearly empty early-morning streets.
    “Yes,” she murmured. “I don’t want you alone.” She breathed for a couple minutes, then said, “I don’t want to be alone.”
    So the cab let us off in front of her dorm. She unlocked the door, and we took the stairs up. At the door to the room she shared with Kelly, she turned back to me and put her arms around me. “Just sleep, okay? I meant what I said, I’m not ready for… you know.”
    “Of course,” I said.
    “It’s all too new, and different, and confusing,” she said.
    “Sleep is good,” I said. I was pretty fucking groggy at that point.
    She