Page 34 of Everything Changes

Carey took his face in his hand and said fiercely, “Don’t ever be sorry for needing me. I don’t care about a little discomfort. You are my priority. You hear me, Jase?”

Jase nodded, his eyes moist, and he helped Carey to the bed before going back into the bathroom to wash and brush his teeth. Carey pulled his knee to his chest and stretched out his lower back while he waited, not wanting Jase to see how uncomfortable he really had been on that hard, cold floor.

By the time Jase came back to the bed, Carey was stretched out easily under the covers, and he threw the warm blankets back and drew Jase close, covering them both up in a snug cocoon.

“Let’s talk about it, Jase,” Carey encouraged, stroking his hair.

Jase sighed deeply. “I don’t want to burden you, Carey, after all you’ve been through yourself. What I went through can’t compare—”

Carey growled impatiently. “Fucking stop it, dude. We’re not comparing stories here. I’m not sitting here thinking your problems are bullshit because you didn’t get your fucking leg blown off like I did. What happened to you happened to you and no one else.”

Jase pulled away from Carey and sat on the edge of the bed, his head dropping into his hands. Carey didn’t say anything, just laid a hand gently on Jase’s back, letting Jase feel the warmth, the connection.

“Talk to me, Jase.”

Jase stood up, and Carey’s hand fell back on the bed as he watched Jase start to pace back and forth. When he finally spoke, Jase’s words came out rapid and clipped.

“After you were injured and transported back stateside, I was going crazy, Carey. I couldn’t find out a fucking thing about you, how you were, if you were even fucking alive. Things were slow, not much action, and I wanted—no, needed to keep busy.”

Four years ago—A firebase somewhere in Afghanistan

“HM1 DESANTIS.”

Jase turned from where he was organizing his medical supplies to see Senior Chief Watkins standing in the doorway of the med hooch. He immediately dropped what he was doing and turned to face the other man, not quite snapping to attention but displaying the proper respect in his stance.

“Yes, Senior,” he replied crisply.

“Take a load off, Doc,” Watkins said, waving Jase to a stool and taking a seat himself in one of the two chairs against the wall. Jase complied, sinking down with a sigh, grateful for the informality.

“How you doin’, son?” Watkins asked shrewdly, scanning Jase’s face, probably noting the dark circles under Jase’s eyes, the evidence of lack of sleep.

Jase grimaced. “Hanging in there, Senior. What can I do for you?”

Watkins didn’t take the bait, not allowing Jase to redirect the conversation, his eyes steady on Jase’s face.

“Define ‘hanging in there,’ Petty Officer,” he ordered quietly. Jase suppressed an impatient sigh; why couldn’t they just talk about the guy’s fucking jock itch or whatever he was fucking in here for?

Jase’s impatience drained away as quickly as it had appeared, and he sagged wearily on his stool.

“Not sleeping well,” he grunted. “Can’t fucking eat. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin, just wanna do something. Just wanna hunt down and kill those motherfuckin’ assholes who blew up my best friend.” The last words held a wealth of anguish, and the senior chief, who was currently on his third combat deployment, looked steadily at him, understanding in his eyes.

“That day was hell, son. But you did your job. You saved lives, and that’s what you’re here for.” The simple words were a balm to Jase’s battered heart, and he relaxed a little.

“I just wish—I wish I knew how Everett was doing,” he said fretfully. “I hate not being able to find out anything. He doesn’t have any family, anyone to watch out for him, you know?”

“He’s getting the best care possible, DeSantis. He’s a tough motherfucker, that one. You pulled him through, and now it’s up to him.” Watkins looked Jase straight in the eye. “Just like you surviving this shit and getting home in one piece is up to you. You need to get your head back in the game, son. Force yourself to eat, do your best to sleep. You know better than anyone we all gotta fuckin’ stay on our toes in this place. You don’t do your buddy no good if you get dead over here ’cause you wasn’t paying attention. You hear me?”

Jase swallowed and nodded before answering, “Yes, sir.” The irony didn’t escape him that he had given this exact same lecture to men himself in the past, and how difficult it was now to take his own fucking advice. Jesus.

Watkins picked up a pen from Jase’s desk and idly turned it end over end between his fingers as he continued. “I came in here for a reason besides busting your balls,” he said. “You know we got a frogman team here, yeah?”

Jase nodded again. He’d seen the SEAL team arrive a couple of days ago but hadn’t paid much attention to their movements.

“Turns out their medic was injured pretty severely on the last mission, got sent home. They’ve had some new mission on the burner and it’s gotten scrapped twice. It just went to boil again, that’s why they’re here, and they’re gonna need a medic and shooter. It’s time sensitive, can’t really wait to get another frog medic here. I thought of you. Besides being a top-notch doc, you can handle yourself in a fight; I seen that out in the field. You interested? I ain’t gonna make you go on no mission you don’t wanna go on, son. This is volunteer only.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m interested,” Jase burst out. “Sir,” he tacked on belatedly.

Watkins chuckled. “Figured you’d wanna keep busy. Okay, I’ll talk to their LT and they’ll find a time to read you in. I don’t know nothing about the mission, don’t really wanna know, to be honest. But keep your head about you, son. Do what you need to do to be a hundred percent in the game. You hear me?” He said this last bit fiercely, and Jase jerked his head up to meet his eyes. “I can’t lose no more good men, DeSantis,” the senior chief said fervently.