“So… Anon.” I turn to Fang, who was sitting on my bed. She was in some old clothes of mine, and didn’t entirely smell like cigarette smoke and booze anymore. I’d set my uniform aside like a hoodie. “Yeah?” “Thank you for letting me stay here. I… really need this.” “Of course… It’s the least you deserve after everything.” I put my hand on the back of my neck. I’d been sitting in my chair looking for some stores online when Fang went to clean herself up. I kind of feel bad about the whole situation… I hadn’t kept any clean towels around so I had to go downstairs to the manager to ask for a spare, like a poor sap. How I managed to make that mistake, I had no damn clue. But whatever. She’d gotten cleaned up, and I let her put her clothes with my towels into the apartment complex washing machine after giving her a few quarters and telling her how to use it. Now we were just kind of sitting and waiting for them to finish washing. What the hell was I supposed to do? It had been a few hours since I’d taken her into my apartment, and I was still somewhat recovering from the shock of seeing my ex-girlfriend, let alone having her back in my home. What the fuck was I supposed to do? She was just sitting there with her hands on her shoulders looking dejected. Was I supposed to hug her or something? Suffice it to say, those Peruvian Fletching boards NEVER could have prepared me for this. I snapped out of it when I heard Fang speak. “Hey, Anon. What’s that on top of your safe?” Fang, pointing out my safe, had taken notice of the purple ribbon on top of an unopened letter, tied to a heart-shaped medal, with George Washington inside the purple area on it. The medal, the Purple Heart, had been given to me a month after the incident in Iraq. I look to the floor. That ribbon was just yet another reminder of my failures. That… brought back memories. Painfully vivid memories of when I had played judge, jury, and executioner with Rodriguez and Jamesons lives, ultimately leaving Jameson to die alone on the sand ten feet away from any help. I… I should have went back for Jameson, gunfire be damned; my bullet wound be damned. I can remember it all. The texture of Jameson’s deathly cold scales on my fingers. The smell of gunpowder all over the area. The groans of myself and Rodriguez waiting for backup. I just wanted to forget. I wanted to move on. “Anon? Are you okay?” Suddenly I’m snapped back to what was currently happening; Fang had somehow gone beside my desk to pick up the medal, and she now held it in one hand. But her other hand… was on my shoulder? What’s on my face? I raised a finger to my cheek to find out I’d been tearing up. “Look… You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” I look up toward Fang, who looked toward me with yet another concerned look. Why the hell was she being so understanding? She should hate my guts. I didn’t deserve her sympathy. Not after all I did to her. But… She deserved to know. She had asked, and I wasn’t going to withhold anything from her anymore. “...I’ll grab something.” I got up shakily to walk over to the trunk I’d been discharged with, holding all of the things from my deployment. Was… Was I ready to share this? What I’d done? Was I ready to confess my sins? Was I ready to admit to my crimes? I looked to Fang, who still had that concern in her eyes, but I could see her curiously glancing at the footlocker. It wasn’t a matter of if or when I was ready- I had to do this. So, I open the trunk, and grab a few items. Taking them, I sit next to Fang on the bed. I set all but one beside me. The slab I hold… It’s a framed picture of a dark-brown baronyx, with piercing yellow eyes. I take a shaky breath, and look at Fang. Crap… This was going to hurt. “You want to know… About how I got that award. Well, I should introduce you to the man I let down. Meet Corpsman Jameson. He was my squad’s medic, although we referred to him as Doc. Jameson… Was a good man. He’d been enlisted for 11 odd years, because he had nothing back home. No family, no friends, no nothing.” I sigh. That last part hit too close to home. “He was an all-around friendly man. He helped out the entire squad, whether it was a gunshot wound or a papercut. We- The rest of the squad, took a silent vow to protect Doc with our lives. We liked Doc. He was a good man. He deserved a lot. I never knew about his family situation until after he…” Well. Too late to go back now. “Something happened while we were in Iraq. We were on a mission. It was three of us, out on patrol. Me, Jameson, and Rodriguez.” I pick up a different photo, of a red ankylosaur. He looked like a male version of Rosa, muscles and all. Except he was clearly masculine. “Rodriguez- we would call him Raul, he was a very driven person, someone who took initiative. He had a wife who was expecting a kid back home in Arizona. Anyways…” I clear my throat and set down both photos. “It was September 3rd, just last month. We were on patrol near base, because we’d received reports of suspicious activity by the enemy combatants. We’d been walking near base for around an hour near a bunch of boulders when it happened. A bunch of them came out of… somewhere in the ground. They started shooting at us. All 3 of us got shot.” Feeling a pain in my right thigh, I shifted my seating position. “I hadn’t been injured as badly as the others, so I dragged Rodriguez behind some cover and returned fire. But those damn scum kept firing. I… I couldn’t get to Doc. We were fighting for over ten minutes by the time backup arrived to push them away. I tried to get to Doc but… But all I could do was crawl. And by the time… that I got to him… He…” My face was in my hands, and I was shaking. Reliving the events in my mind. Experiencing it all over again. I could feel his cold scales. I looked to Fang. “I woke up in a hospital… I’d passed out next to Doc’s body by the time backup arrived. They fixed my leg within a month and a half, and while I was in a coma for a few days I’d been granted the Purple Heart. Rodriguez was fine, and he got to go home early, too. Thank God those bastards missed his vital organs.” Shaking with every breath, I picked up a small cube of clear resin. It had multiple deformed bullets inside, with dried blood specked on here and there. I showed it to Fang. She looked at it with a face of thinly veiled hidden shock and realization, looking at me, and then to an apparatus for my leg in the corner of the entrance. “It… was an odd request, asking for stuff from your surgery, but one that Brass was willing to grant. That, my discharge, and the money I was given.” I took a second to steady myself- Come on Anon, you’ve seen people get killed in front of you. Talking about it with your ex can’t be harder than that. But… For some reason, I couldn’t go further into it. So, I just sat there, tears in my eyes, trying not to break down in front of Fang. My irregular breathing shook with each inhale and exhale. Setting the bullets next to the picture of those lost, I wiped at my eyes, and took the letter the medal had been given to me with. I still hadn’t opened it. I didn’t want to. But… I had to. For Fang. Shuddering with every breath, I unsealed the letter, and took out two papers. One looked handwritten, and the other was the one that I looked at first. “The United States of America To all that see these presents, greetings; This is to certify that the President of the United States of America has awarded the Purple Heart (established by George Washington, 1782), to; Private First Class Anon Y. Mous, United States Marine Corp For wounds received in action In the Republic of Iraq on 3rd September, 201M2024 Given under my hand this 28th of September, 201M2024 Signed; General Stephen Ford, United States Marine Corp” Out of this note tumbled something the size of a credit card. When I picked it up, I examined it closely to see the Purple Heart imprinted on it; “United States Marine Corp Purple Heart Private First Class Anon Y. Mous Date & location of action; 3rd Sept. 201M2024 Abu Graib, Iraq” I turned it over… was my hand shaking? “Purple Heart recipient Republic of Iraq In recognition of your personal service during your government service The people of this nation are forever grateful” There sat a signature on the bottom, but I couldn’t make it out; I’d involuntarily dropped the card next to the pictures of Raul and Doc. The question of the handwritten letter sat heavy on my mind now; who the hell would write to me and attach it to a letter concerning my award? I picked it up, and felt Fang looking over my shoulder. Looking toward her, I saw it again in her eyes. That look of sympathy. The very thing I didn’t deserve a drop of from her. I turned back to read the letter. “Addressed to Private First Class Anon Y. Mous; When I received word of your actions in Iraq, it reminded me of my great-grandfather, who had received the Purple Heart in Czechoslovakia for similar actions. Whereas I’d usually skim a report on ones deeds and a request for the award, I read your report thoroughly. My sincerest condolences go out to you for the loss of Hospital Corpsmen Robert J. Jameson.” Easy, Anon. One breath at a time. I went back to reading the second paragraph. “I also heard of your post-service request of 40 thousand dollars from General Ford. Although it is an odd request, considering your fifty thousand dollar hazard pay, after looking through your civilian file, I personally approved it. You are a good man, Mr. Mous. Your actions saved the lives of not just Private Jameson, but your squad. If you had not given out the distress call, the attempted ambush by the insurgency forces surely would have succeeded. To that end, the United States government owes you a debt of gratitude.” “I would also like to personally extend my gratitude for your actions on that day, Mr. Mous. The lives you saved that day cannot be understated, and I’m sure my great-grandfather looks down smiling, knowing that there are good men like you still on earth. I hope you can say the same of your family.” I looked down, re-reading the last sentence. Who the hell was this man? To answer that, I looked at the bottom to find the seal of the office of the… What? Signed; George Hans Dietrich President of the United States of America …what? Dietrich… the President? He’d… directly sent me a letter??? I mean… I knew who he was, hell I’d voted for the man running against him. But… Why? Then again, he stated why; he knew what I did and genuinely appreciated it. The shock that the fucking President sent me a letter personally, knocked me out of my feeling of guilt over Jameson. Which only made it worse when that feeling came back a few seconds later and made it all that much harder to crack. “...Why? I don’t deserve this…” I dropped the letter onto my lap and covered my face with my hands. I couldn’t let Fang see me like this. Come on, get your shit together Anon. Come on. Come the fuck on! Why can’t I just be fucking normal? Why did I have to break down at the mere mention of Jameson?! I felt something on my shoulder but I ignored it. I was too focused trying to keep myself from bawling my eyes out like some kid. No, fuck it. I uncovered my face to see Fang sitting next to me, her hand on my shoulder across my back. Why the hell is she giving me that look of sympathy again, even when I didn’t fucking deserve it? “Anon… Shut up. You’re hurting.” …Fuck my muttering. Goddamn motherfucking… “Look… I know what happened in high school was shit, and I won’t ever just ‘forgive and forget’ it. But you shouldn’t just jar up your feelings like this and hide them. It never ends well. Trust me, I know all too well,” she said with a remorseful look. I could see the pain on her face. The reminder to her of the past. Was she right? Was I just wallowing in my pain like some pathetic worm? “I never said that. You… You aren’t a ‘pathetic worm’, Anon.” FUCK. MY. MUMBLING. Wait… what did she say? “Look… Like I said, I won’t ever forget the past. But it doesn’t do us any good to just keep living in it. We need to move on from that and try to make something of our lives.” Who is this and where did Fang go? This didn’t sound like anything she would say to me. I didn’t- “I know you don’t feel like you deserve any sympathy… but fuck it all.” Fuck it all? What? Suddenly, Fang put her other arm on my other shoulder and turned me toward her, and put her arms and wings around me. She rested her head on my shoulder. Was Fang hugging me? “Yes you dumbass. You’re hurting. Just… Let it out.” I sat there like a dumbass for a few seconds as my situation registered. She had her arms under mine, and I was pretty much surrounded by her disheveled wings. I… I was getting hugged by Fang. The woman I’d hurt. Who I’d made a life full of pain and misery. And she was sitting here with me, sympathizing with me. I truly didn’t deserve what was happening right now. Raptor Jesus, Thank you for this chance to make everything right. Everything came back to me all at once. Rodriguez. Jameson. My discharge. Fang. I don’t know what did it, but something inside me broke. So I put my arms around her back and began to sob into her shoulder, letting out years and years of pain and anguish. Hugging her, making sure she was actually real. Making sure that I could make everything right again. And every time I felt her, it just made me cry harder. This was real. This was happening. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I did know I felt something on my shoulder. Something shuddering in my arms. “Fang?” I said, loosening my grip, only for her arms to wrap around me tighter. “...Don’t let go.” She had been crying into my shoulder. I think she needed this more than I did. I’d spent most of my life dealing with shit being thrown my direction, but Fang had been living like this for four years. Four years of going paycheck to paycheck, from place to place in these slums. She was hurting so much more than I was. So, I hugged her. Let her know it would be okay. Shed more tears myself. After a while, I felt drained. Physically, emotionally. Spiritually. Evidently, Fang felt the same, felt weak in my arms. Her wings had went back to that spot on her back, and she just kind of… slumped in my arms. “Fang?” Concern grew in my head. Didn’t she mention something about drugs? What was happening? Was she- Then I heard her snoring. And I chuckled. Setting her in bed, I covered her with my blanket. After a while of getting myself back together, I went downstairs to grab her laundry, and came back up to find her lightly snoring every now and then. God, she sounded cute doing that. What? Nevermind. I went to put everything back where it was supposed to be- my memorabilia in my trunk, Fang’s clothes… Where the hell should those go? Eventually I just decided to put those in a laundry basket next to her guitar and rucksack, but I stopped to examine the bag. This… was a mil-spec bag. A rather old one, at that. Where did Fang get this? I knew for a fact there weren’t any surplus stores within an hour of Skin Row. Then I saw the nametag. “Ripley Gabriel Aaron” Wait. I took a closer look at the bag. There was an insignia. Near the top. A four-pointed star, the bottom point being a word handle. And in the middle? Was that a star or a flower? Wait. I knew that insignia. Ripley had been part of the Army Intelligence Corp? I chuckled to myself. That would explain his position as police commissioner. He must have a lot of experience handling information and using it to do things like solve cases or strategize, or… whatever the hell he did. “...Anon?” Fuck, I think my mumbling woke up Fang. “...C’mere.” I walk over. Her eyes were half-closed, and she’d tossed her boots off the end of the bed. “...What’s up? Need anything?” “Just… C’mere.” I leaned down near her, and looked toward her with concern. “Are you okay, Fa- Ack!” One second I was crouching next to her, and the next I’d been flipped over onto the bed, laying on my shoulder on the other side. between her and the wall. “How the fuck..?” I didn’t get a response, instead, she kept one of her arms around me and pulled me closer to her. Then I felt the blanket on my other side. What… was happening? Just hours ago she'd slapped me (arguably, I deserved it), and then… she opened up to me, dumping all of her pain, and now… she wanted to sleep with me? This was all happening so fast, I… Why was she being so open to the man that pretty much ruined everything for them both? Fang mumbled, “...Because I missed you…” And then she said something I hadn’t heard in four long years. “...Dweeb.” …You know what? I’ll mull over everything in the morning. For now, I think I’ll just lay here. With a woman who once loved me. Who I still loved. I felt myself falling under… and I went to sleep feeling peace for the first time in four years.