Joe stood on the edge of the beach, staring out to sea, the wind fingering through his hair. Joe watched the sun set over the waves. It had been a week now since he had left the base; a week since David's funeral. It felt like he had walked around in a fog the week leading up to the funeral. The psychologist had tried to get him to talk. He had flatly refused.
Even now, Joe could hardly bring himself to think of David's death. He had come to think of David as a brother. Alec could never be replaced, but it was like losing Alec again. David had always been there to help him, to be a friend. And now he was gone.
Joe reached into his pocket and drew out his phone when it went off. Glancing at the screen he saw that it was Steve. Drawing a breath, Joe accepted the call.
"Joe, where are you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, if you are not back in two days, you will be labeled a deserter."
"I don't know if I want to come back."
"Joe, they will break up the team."
"Maybe that is for the best." Joe was finding it hard to care at the moment.
"Joe, please, come back. I want you to come back. You are family."
There was a long pause, "Alright. I'll be back tomorrow."
"Thank you Joe."
Joe hung up the phone. He silently cursed the fates that had robbed him of two brothers.
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