once I had a dream

Sandstorm

She could smell the sweat leaking out of the tough, military grade fabric. Fresh, hot, sand still in every fold. The fatigues dulled from months under the middle east sun and torn from windy sand storms. It didn't matter to her though. All of this meant he was home. At least for now. In his arms, she was safe from the world.

As he held her, he fought through the mental flashbacks racing through his head. He blinked away memories of life in the front lines, watching men, soldiers, friends, brothers, become scraps on the ground. He held her through the sounds of gun fire still ringing in his ears. The burn in his eyes from sandstorms that never ended didn't matter, while he was holding her.

John was back from his second tour over seas. He fought for no one but the respect of his father. That was a fight he wasn't going to win, and he knew it. After being away from her this last time he knew that it didn't matter. She was all the mattered. Her. She was his life now. His Elle.

"Elle, I won't leave you again. I promise."

"John, don't make me another promise you intend to break." She fought the tear hiding in her eye. Her head lifted off of his chest and looked up at him, "I can't take another broken promise."

Her pain killed him. "I promise Elle, I am not leaving you again."

It had been a few months since John made that promise. So far, it had held true. Uncle Sam seemed to have forgotten he was around and left him alone. His days were spent working at his brothers automotive shop, fixing up dream cars for people who did not know how to treat them right. Clearly they were abused. Elle continued on as if his abscence had never happened.