Blackout: Chapter 3

Previously

From the Journal of Jason Forrester

21 October 2012

Things actually seem to be feeling better.  Don't ask me how I know this, but the dreams aren't as bad.  I think talking with Gunny helped.

He was in the 8th as well, he had been in Beirut when the 8th Marines earned their nickname.  He said he understood.  He told me I did the right thing by the rest of my squad.  He told me that it was more important to keep the rest of them alive.  I think he might have been lying to make me feel better, but it helped.

Rebecca helps.  Even after she heard what had happened, she didn't judge me, she only sought to understand what happened.  It helps that I can just sit and talk with her.

Country Club Plaza

4 November 2012

"A tall Cappucino with nonfat milk, no whipped cream, and a venti hot chocolate, 2% milk no whipped cream."  Jayce had to read the order off a notecard.  It made no sense to him otherwise.

"And the name, for the order?"

"Jason."

Jayce paid for the drinks and walked away.

"That order made no sense," he complained as he sat down.

"What do you mean it made no sense?"

"Tall is not a drink size, it is a description of height.  And what in the world does 'venti' mean, is that even a word? Why can't they just use normal sizes?"

"Because that would be too simple.  They have to make it complicated."

"Ah, so the insane prices I just paid are there to pay for snob appeal."

"Yeah, pretty much."  Rebecca's smirk indicated the thought it was kinda ridiculous as well.

Jayce just rolled his eyes, "And people actually pay these prices.  Unbelievable."

"You have been at war too long."

"Perhaps."

Jayce went silent at that comment.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up…"

"No, its fine.  I am not getting the flashbacks any more, not like I used to at least.  I still get the dreams though…"

The two of them sat in silence for a moment.

"Mom wants me to go back to school, try to get a job with the G.I. Bill."

"Any idea what you want to study?"

"Well, I always had an interest in law enforcement.  Especially the US Marshals Service."

"I take it you are a fan of Fugitive."

"I have it on blue ray," Jayce's grin was a mix of pride and embarrassment.

"Well, UMKC has a good Criminology program, and the local Sherriff's offices are always looking for skilled deputies."

"Not a bad idea.  Wait, don't you go to UMKC?"

"Yep, Pre-Law."

Jayce smirked at her, "So, you want to keep me close, huh?  Make sure those other girls from the dance can't steal me away, am I right?"

Rebecca hit him in the arm lightly.  Jayce laughed as he said, "Ow, that hurt."

Rebecca just shook her head, trying not to laugh.

"I'll look into it," he promised.

UMKC Dormitory

6 November 2012

Rebecca tried to ignore the election talk in the background.  She had voted first thing that morning, and anything until the polls closed in New Hampshire at 6:00 pm was just noise.  Besides, she had something more important to do.

She was surfing WebMD, comparing the symptoms she had heard Jayce talking about.  WebMD suggested he had an anxiety disorder of some kind.  Based on his combat experience, and the rumors of something which had happened to an entire squad of the 8th Marines, Jayce's old Regiment, she was fairly certain he had PTSD.  If he wasn't involved in what happened to the 8th, then he was friends with those who died.

If that was the case, he needed to talk to people who were trained to help people with PTSD.  Maybe she could get some recommendations from the VFW of who he could talk to.

Chapter 4