Chapter Text
Prolouge
First, there was laughter.
Nervous laughter.
A joke so stupid it didn't land. Born from nervousness. Someone said something about ‘real coffee’.
Another talked about going home.
Nalani was counting bandages.
Hands shaking.
Thirty-one.
Thirty-two.
Thirty-three.
The convoy was loud in the silent hills of Northern Iraq.
Thirty-four.
Thirty-five.
The hot desert air was itching her throat. God, she hated the deserts. She was made for the cold. Or the island.
Thirty-six.
Thirty-eight.
Did she just lose count?
Should she begin again?
“You okay, medic?” a soldier's voice. She didn't remember his name. Why didn't she…?
Thirty-nine.
She never made it to forty.
The moment the ‘f’ sound formed in her mind was the moment the tires of the cars in front and next to them came to a squealing stop.
Then, a loud bang disrupted the air.
Metal meeting metal.
An even louder roar, and the world spun.
And spun.
Glass became daggers.
Metal ground became… rocks.
It felt like she flew.
A body shattering on stone.
Pain.
Hands gripping frantically to not fall deeper.
Hands with claws.
Her hands
She was outside.
She didn't remember leaving the car.
God, her leg was wrong.
Every breath hurt.
White spots danced before her eyes.
Faint voices speaking in Arabic.
More bangs.
Screams.
The air filled with the smell of gasoline, blood, and heat.
Don't breathe.
Don't move.
The dead don't move.
Until they have to.
With a loud gasp, Nalani woke up. She was covered in sweat.
Where was she? Where?! When?!
“Where?” she whispered, not hearing herself over the loud buzzing in her mind.
She could still taste the desert heat on her tongue.
The smell of blood and gasoline filled her lungs. Her whole being.
Her heart was beating in her chest and in her left leg.
She felt the pain.
Excruciating pain.
Her eyes flew across the room, but she couldn't take in the details.
She saw only the upturned car.
The slope of the cliff above her.
The lifeless bodies of her comrades are still inside.
The rifles.
She took a shaky breath, and there it was.
Salt.
The sharp scent washed away the smell of Iraq and replaced it with something better.
More healing.
Hibiscus.
The ocean.
She was home.
On Maui.
She took another deep breath and brushed sweat-soaked strands of hair out of her face. Her heart rate slowed. The shivering eased.
But not the pain.
Never the pain.