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Dr. Roberts’ office was a lot different than I expected it to be. I’d been to enough sessions to know what the rooms were usually like. A cold room, with a clock on a table, and a maybe a plant for color. The Army wasn’t known for anything warm and fuzzy, particularly in their spaces, so I did a bit of a double take when I walked into his room. It felt more like a living room, and it put me at ease right away. I guessed that was his plan, and it worked.
“Please take a seat.” He pointed to a comfortable looking couch across from him, and I hesitated. “Or would that one be more your comfort level?” He pointed to the one against the wall. I headed for that one and leaned an arm on the armrest in an effort to look comfortable. “How are you feeling today? Head any better?”
“It comes and goes,” I answered truthfully.
“Did you have headaches before?”
“Before what?” I shifted and cleared my throat.
“Before the death of Brown.” He studied me, and I tried to hold still and not react.
“No.”
“I see that on your last mission, you endured a lot of gunfire and explosives.” He tapped his screen. “Seemed pretty intense.” I shrugged. “Do you think any of that could contribute to your headaches?”
“Sure.”
“Does noise or sound hurt your head?” I shook my head. “Does the mention of Brown’s name bring pain to your head?” A laser noise pierced through my skull again, and I couldn’t control my thumb this time. I pushed it into my eye to seek any kind of relief. “I see.” He gave me a break for a second as he scribbled something down then studied me. I waited for it. I figured it was coming, those four haunting letters that surely would flip my entire life to shit. PTSD. “How are you sleeping?”
“Not too badly. The mattress is nice.” That made him smile.
“Yes, I suppose it’s a step up from the ground or a military cot. What about dreams or nightmares?” He sensed my unease and removed his glasses then pushed his iPad off to the side. “Ty, I’ve been working at Shadows for years. I’ve seen and heard it all. What you went through that day with the loss of one of your brothers has been experienced right here by men within these walls. We’ve lost good men and even had a traitor in the family. I’m not looking for a way to send you back home. I’m looking for a way to help you through this.” He paused. “War is the ugly side of freedom. One most will never understand. Though you’re wired to be a soldier, that doesn’t mean you’re not human. So, when I ask you these questions, I’m not looking for the right answer. I’m looking for a way in to help you heal.”
I let out a long breath and let his words sink in. Frank said Doc Roberts was the best, and I was beginning to see he was right. Trust was hard for me, but I lowered my guard and let him in. Really, I had nothing to lose at that point.
“The nightmare doesn’t just come at night.” I cleared my throat. “It’s whenever I let my mind idle or close my eyes or… you get the point.”
“I do. You mentioned the nightmare, as in one. So, it’s the same one?”
“Yes, the moment Brown was shot, murdered, and when I’m trying to stop the bleeding.” I rubbed my palms into my fatigues. “Just a constant loop.”
“All right.” He pulled his iPad back onto his lap and started to write with his electronic pen. “Is it the only dream that you have, or are you soundly sleeping the rest of the time?”
“No,” I rubbed my head, “it’s just that.” All the fucking time.
“Are you able to control it, stop the loop from spinning?”
“Sometimes, yeah,” I shook my head and tried to find the words to explain. “There’s a place I go in my head. It’s quiet, free of screams, like, you know.” He nodded. “No bullets zipping by or angry yelling, that sort of thing.”
“Do you see anything when you go there in your head?” Doc Roberts kept his voice calm and low.
“Yeah, I’m standing on the edge of a lake. I hear loon sounds way off in the distance. I’ve got my fishing rod, and I can see my lure just below the surface. I’m waiting for a bite. There’s this smell, this fresh scent. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but it makes me feel settled. Like I know that’s where I’m supposed to be at that very moment.” I rubbed my head again, uneasy with his eyes on me.
“Do you recognize the location?”
“No, but it could be anywhere. I mean, it’s just trees and water. No landmark or anything.”
“Your file says you’re tapped into your sixth sense pretty well. Does anything at all about this place make you nervous or unsure?”
“No, the opposite, actually.” I waited a moment. “All right, so what’s it mean?” He continued to look at me. “I mean, isn’t that what you docs do? You let me tell you about some strange moment that really didn’t happen, then you tell me some kind of metaphor about it?” He smiled, and I suddenly felt vulnerable. “You’re going to ask what do I think it means, aren’t you?” I grimaced.
“Actually, that’s not what I was going to say at all.” He held my gaze as I waited for him to say something insightful. Something that was supposed to make me feel better. It wouldn’t. I knew that much. I may have left South Central Asia, but I was stuck in a war in my head. I wasn’t sure what was worse. At least then I had something physical to fight. “Ty, I honestly think there will come a moment when all that anger and loss of control that loops over and over in your head will finally dissolve, and you’ll find your peace. It will just take time.”
“So, you’re saying you can see the future?” I knew I was being a bit of an asshole, but my frustration with it all was overwhelming.
“Maybe?” He chuckled. “I’ve heard of crazier things. What I’m saying is that I think when you’re ready, you’re going to make that moment happen yourself. That place you go in your head, it’s a happy, safe place for you, and the more you go there and allow yourself to relax, you’ll find peace, and you’ll discover what the smell is.”
