Rocket's Red Glare

By Your Side

Joe ran into the hospital and looked around. He had no idea where he should go or where Holly would even be.

"Are you okay?"

A nurse walked over and smiled at him. "Who are you looking for?"

"My neighbor," Joe stuttered. "She. . . Well, I don't really know what happened. She has. . . She has PTSD and I went to her apartment but she wasn't there. I don't know what happened or if she is even here but. . ."

"Don't worry," she smiled. "If she's here, we'll take care of her. What's her name?"

"Holly. . ." Joe paused. He realized that he didn't know Holly's last name. "I don't know her last name," he mumbled more to himself than to her. "She's a pilot."

"I know who you're talking about," she said sweetly. "Follow me."

He followed the nurse to the front desk. He nervously drummed his fingers as he waited for her to look at something on the computer.

"It looks like they are getting her settled in a room," the nurse noted. "They had to pump her stomach."

Joe felt like he couldn't breathe as the nurse continued. She was explaining what they were doing for Holly but he couldn't pay attention. He could only be thinking about Holly and how long she was struggling by herself.

"Sir?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, blushing when he saw the nurse smiling sweetly at him.

"Why don't I take you to her room?"

"Thank you."

They walked through the hospital in silence. Joe couldn't help but nervously play with his hands as he followed the nurse.

"Here we are," she said sweetly. "I'll send the doctor to come talk to you when he gets a chance."

"Thank you," Joe said, feeling like he was on autopilot.

Joe hesitated outside her room. He looked down and noticed how badly his hands were shaking. His mind raced with possibilities of what Holly might have done and if there was anything he could've done to avoid this happening to her.

"Are you Ms. Richards's boyfriend?"

Joe turned around to see a doctor walking over with a folder that Joe guessed was Holly's medical records. He could faintly see what looked like an Army seal in the corner.

"Oh umm. . ." Joe stuttered. "I'm her neighbor . . . And her friend. She has terrible PTSD and she wasn't answering her phone. Our neighbor said she saw an ambulance but. . . Please, tell me she's going to be okay."

"She's going to be fine," the doctor soothed.

"What happened to her?"

"It looks like she may have overdosed on some old pain medication."

"Overdosed?" Joe officially couldn't breathe. His stomach has never felt this sick. "Are you sure?"

"Ms. Richards admitted it," the doctor said, his eyes softening. "She told us that she had some old medication from her accident. She wasn't able to recall how many pills she took exactly but she knew what medication it was, which helped us know what we needed to give her to counter the effects."

Joe opened and closed his mouth, unable to get his thoughts together. He couldn't stop picturing Holly taking a handful of pills and passing out.

"We got to her in time," the doctor said when Joe didn't say anything.

"What happens now?" Joe asked, finally finding his voice.

"We want to keep her here for observation."

"How long?"

"Just a couple of days." The doctor paused before adding, "Is your name Joe?"

"It is."

"She's been asking for you."

* * * * *

When he walked into Holly's room, she was asleep. He took a shaky breath before walking over and sitting in the chair next to her bed. As her doctor left him alone with her, Joe couldn't stop thinking about the last thing the doctor said; she's been asking for him.

He leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together. He couldn't look away from her. As she lay in the hospital bed with an oxygen mask and an IV, she looked so small to Joe. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and protect her for the rest of his life.

His shoulders slumped, his head bowing as he was overcome with guilt. He should've been there for her. He should've caught on to the fact that Holly was struggling.

"Joe?"

His head snapped up when he heard a tired Holly say his name. His eyes watered as he looked into Holly's tired eyes.

"Hi," he said, scooting closer to her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she said shakily. His heart sank when Holly's eyes filled with tears. He reached over and gently grabbed her hand.

"What's going on?" Joe whispered. "Talked to me, Holly. Please?"

"I just. . . I couldn't. . . I can't. . . I'm sorry."

"Hey," he soothed. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes things get too much. There's nothing wrong with that. It gets wrong when you don't talk to someone who would do anything to help you through it."

"Really?" She stuttered.

Joe leaned down and gently kissed her hand that he was still holding. He looked back up at her with a smile that made her heart flutter.

"I want to be by your side through it all," he said, his voice soft. "You're not alone, Holly. So talk to me."

"It's the anniversary," she whispered.

"The anniversary?"

"Of the accident," Holly clarified. "It's the five-year anniversary of my plane getting shot down. Five years since my wingman, William died."

"Holly," Joe whispered as he squeezed her hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, a sob getting stuck in her throat.

"You don't have to be sorry," Joe instantly said.

"I know I should've talked to you. I know I promised to come to you when I'm struggling but it got too much. I couldn't take the guilt. William should've been the one to survive," Holy said, her voice weak. "Not me."

"Holly," Joe tried to comfort her but she kept talking.

"He had so much going for him. He had a family and a girlfriend. They even talked about getting married after the mission. I talked to her after and you'll never believe this. She was pregnant! But after losing William, she stopped taking care of herself and. . . She lost the baby."

"That's not your fault," Joe whispered.

"Will was the only one in my unit who was nice to me," Holly continued. "He constantly stood up for me even though the other guys teased him about it. He was the only one who treated me like an equal. And he's gone. . ."

"I'm so sorry," Joe sighed. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles again.

"I should've told you I was struggling instead of ditching you at lunch today. I'm sorry, Joe."

"Please stop apologizing," he chuckled. "I'm just happy that you're okay. I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost you."