"Ruby," Regina found herself calling out quickly. "Ruby."
The brunette jogged over as quickly as she could in her stiletto heels. "Change your mind on that order?"
"Turn up the volume."
Ruby didn't have to be told twice as she followed Regina's gaze to the television and immediately walked to it, standing on her tippy toes to reach the button.
"–two US soldiers gravely injured after a patrol gone wrong. Around eleven last night, a group of eight United States soldiers were patrolling what reports have generally called a quiet stretch of land located in the outskirts of Baghdad when one fatal step activated a hidden landmine causing a chain reaction and decimating over five hundred yards of land. Six have been confirmed dead while two received life-threatening injuries. Our prayers are with the soldiers and their families."
Regina gasped as her eyes shifted uneasily from anchorwoman to footage, her heart beat flooding her ears. Please don't be Emma. Please don't let it be Emma.
The news broadcast cut to the head shots of the victims, and Regina waited with bated breath as each picture passed. First a stern looking man with a strong jaw. Major Gregory. Next a dark skinned man with a stoic expression. Lieutenant Powell.
Regina's breath caught when she caught a shock of blonde hair with the next picture. The fact that it was a woman – Sergeant Nichols – did nothing to stop Regina from gasping out loud and making her heart nearly stop.
The next five that passed seemed to take longer than the last. Michaels. Whitmore. Fung. Morello. Nguyen.
"They will all be commemorated on Tuesday following a memorial for friends and family of the victims."
The segment ended with a final shot of a waving United States flag before the program cut to an interview with a General stationed in Iraq offering as much inside information as possible, but Regina had stopped listening.
Her eyes shut tightly, and the only thing her conscious could conceive was the fact that Emma was okay. She swallowed the tight lump in her throat, realizing she was standing when Henry tugged on the hem of her shirt, a quarter of his strawberry shake already gone.
"Mommy, look." He blew into his straw and laughed when bubbles popped to the surface.
Usually Regina would scold him for such unruly manners, but it was the last thing on her mind as she struggled to accept the relief that should be overwhelming her. It wasn't Emma. Emma was fine. Regina, however, was shaken. The fear that someone she cared for was gone was too great and too real.
"Regina?" Ruby breached cautiously. "Emma's not deployed. She's still state-side," the younger woman reminded her taking careful steps closer to the counter.
Regina blinked and, dear god, the waitress was right. Emma was still in Benning, fixing up weapons and helping with training. She was nowhere near the Middle East, and nowhere near untracked landmines. Slowly she turned her head and swallowed again to regain her composure, facing Ruby and nodding. "Yes," she said finding her voice. "Yes she is."
Fort Benning, Georgia
August 1 2004
Emma,
I just need to make sure you're okay. I know your days have been busy lately, I just need to know.
I saw what happened on the news in Baghdad. I don't know if you knew any of them, but I'm so sorry. It's terrible, and I feel awful for their families. They said one of the injured soldiers didn't make it, and the other is still fighting. We're holding our own little ceremony and having a moment of silence for them.
I don't mean to damper your day. I just need to hear from you. Just be careful. Come home safely.
Regina
Emma ran a hand through her hair and leaned back against the wall of her bed, silently empathizing with Regina. It was a brief message and quite to the point, but they had exchanged enough letters to know that Regina was going out of her mind with worry, and though she'd never admit it to Emma, relief. Relief that it wasn't Emma, relief that the signature telegram that had made the strongest of housewives tremble at their feet during the world wars had skipped past Regina's door and landed on someone else's.
As much as she loved August, she really wished she hadn't spent the last of her minutes teasing him about Ruby earlier that day since she desperately needed a quicker way to let Regina know she was fine. The commissary was closed since Emma hadn't gotten back to her barrack until close to eleven, and though she could probably borrow Neal's cell phone, that would raise too many questions and she had just gotten him off her back. Instead, Emma crawled to the foot of her bed, opening her trunk and pulling out her stationary kit.
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room as she scurried back to the head of her bed as quietly as possible, grabbing The Green Mile from the nightstand and using it as a table as she scribbled on the lined paper.
August 9 2004
Hey,
I'm okay. I'm still here.
Yeah, I saw that too. It was the only thing we talked about for days. We had a memorial service last week and stopped training and work for the day.
Nichols has a husband in the marines, and Morello's brother just left for a tour in Syria, and I don't know if they even know what happened yet.
Isn't that crazy? You're doing your own job which is hard enough as it is, and halfway across the world your wife or your brother is dead. They were just doing a routine patrol. I've done that route a million times. That could have been
Emma paused letting her head hit the wall as she thought about the accident not for the first time. Casualties of war were a hazard of the job, but whenever Emma was training, in combat, hell, even when she was dreaming, if she were to die in service, she imagined it guns ablazing as fantastical as that sounded. But stepping on a landmine? There was no chance. No warning. Just one second you're there and the next you're not.
She imagined it a lot actually. Wondered what was going through their heads, what they were talking about. Did they even know their fate when the first mine went off or was it too fast for them to comprehend? Too many questions ran through her head when she thought about it too much.
Looking down at her letter, she scratched out the last bit and calculated when Regina would probably get it. Most likely a week from now. Less than two if the postal office wasn't busy. So for three weeks until that letter would come, Regina would be in a panic.
She didn't want to wait to hear from Regina. She didn't want to keep Regina waiting any longer. Make it the right time, August had once said. Regina had said it too, and it led to the best thing that could have ever happened to Emma.
Fuck it, she thought as she got out of bed, book and letter discarded on the nightstand, to creep three cots over to where Neal was sleeping, flat on his back, his head tilted to the right as he snored softly. If she pulled this off, this would be one for the history books as she crouched by his bed and slid his folded pair of cargos he kept under there toward her. Emma used to silently make fun of the guy for keeping his phone on him all the time, calling his girlfriend turned wife whenever he got a free minute, but now she knew why and sympathized.
Making a mental note to get a cell phone when she went back home, Emma found Neal's easily, tucked in his pocket, turned off for the night. She replaced his pants back under the bed and tip toed back to her own, wonderfully making no noise as she lay with her back to the rest of the team and kept her pillow over her head for extra privacy and a little muffling.