Worth the Fight?

He doesn't do much. He just sits and stares. All the time. He's never hungry. Or thirsty. I can't get more than two words out of him at a time. He doesn't want to see his friends. He doesn't want to see his family. And he never, ever, wants to talk about it.

I tell him I've missed him and he smiles weakly. I tell him I love him and he mumbles a, 'you too.'

I cry myself to sleep at night but I don't think he notices. If he does he never says anything. But the time has come now where I just leave him be. The whole house is permanently engulfed in silence. I just want to grab his shoulders and shake him hard to see if the Billie who left me is still inside that hollow shell. Sometimes I think he is; when I see how his brilliant green eyes shine when the sun hits them; it makes me imagine the brave, loyal man who left a year ago fighting to get out.

---

He's started waking up in the night and more often than not, he's screaming as he wakes. Sometimes he'll let me comfort him, other times he'll silently get out of bed and sit downstairs; where he'll remain for the rest of the day.

Last night, he was crying. His heavy sobs made his chest heave violently as he gasped for air. But he wouldn't speak to me.

I frantically took his face in my hands. "Now is not the time for silence, Billie. You have to tell me what's wrong so I can make this go away."

"It never goes away." His voice was thick with emotion.

"What doesn't?"

"His face."

"Who's face?"

Silence.

"Who's face, Billie?"

He was looking at me but seeing right through me.

"For God's sake Billie Joe Armstrong…tell me whose face!"

"The man I…killed."

His teeth were clenched. His shoulders froze. His words shocked me, to say the least, and I quickly let go of his face and sat away from him.

"Happy now?" he practically snarled. "Are you happy now that you can see the monster I've become?"

I couldn't talk right away. But suddenly, everything made sense. I had seen stories on the news about soldiers that came home traumatized after touring the Middle East. Like Billie, some of them never spoke. Others went on to take drugs or drink to block out the pain.

Some of them even killed themselves.

The sounds of his sobs starting again made the realisation of how selfish I'd been, crash through me like a high speed train. It wasn't because of me that he was being distant and withdrawn; it was because of himself. His tears now, made me ashamed of my pathetic snivelling before bedtime.

He made to get out of bed and leave the room but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"You are not going to go through this alone anymore, do you hear me?"

He shook his head. "You'll never understand…"

"You once told me that I didn't need to understand!"

"That was different. That was before…"

I cut him off. "Before you had to go away and do your job. I'm not going to think any less of you. I just want to try and help you…I want to try and make the darkness go away."

"I don't want you to hate me."

"There is nothing you can tell me that will make me hate you. Please don't think like that."

"But I hate myself."

My hands found their way into his hair and I kissed him deeply, meaningfully. "Trust me with this Billie. I've waited a year for you, I've been expecting stories like this. I won't hate you Billie. I won't let you down like that."

I felt his hands creep under my night vest and up my back, his fingertips delicately grazed every section of my spine. I arched my back in delight and my chest collided with his.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered as I allowed him to remove my top, the main point of conversation temporarily being put on hold.

"Sure you do," I whispered back as I kissed down the plane of his chest. "You've waited for me just as long as I've waited for you."

I felt him come back to me that night. The Billie that left. I felt it in the gentle kisses he placed all over my body and in the way that we made love. He gave himself to me completely.

And not just physically.

"I think I'm ready to talk about what happened," he murmured into my hair as our naked bodies lie in an embrace.

Saying nothing, I got out of bed and put my night clothes back on and once he had gotten his shorts back on I held my hand out to him and nodded towards the door.

"I think coffee is in order."

He didn't let go of my hand until we were sat back in bed, hugging our coffee.