Dogtags

"Promise me you'll come home safe?" I whispered, taking his hands. I stepped back and studied my boyfriend in his unifrom; he looked so handsome, as usual. The camoflauge juxtaposed with his porcelain skin just looked so natural. Zacky chuckled, and his green eyes sparkled. That had always been the most attractive part of him, those emerald gems nestled beneath the fringe of his black hair. It saddened me to realize that after today, I wouldn't be able to gaze into his adoring eyes for an entire year.

"You know I can't promise you that, Audrey," Zacky whispered, and I frowned. He was never one to lie, even to spare my feelings. "There's a possibility that I could--"

"Don't say it," I begged, tears welling in my eyes. "Don't say that you might die."

"Audrey, I'm going off to war," Zacky said lamely. "I can't guarantee you that I'm gonna come home."

"But why can't you at least tell me that?" I asked, looking up at him. "Can't you lie to me, just once?"

"You know I'm not like that, Audrey," Zacky replied. He reached out and stroked my cheek; I sighed. "Now let's not waist our last few minutes together arguing. You don't want that, do you? Because I know I don't."

"I don't want that, either," I agreed. I laid my head on his chest as the tears brewing in my eyes began to spill over. Zacky tightened his grip on me, holding me against his chest as the sobs shook my body. "I-I don't want y-you to go at-at all."

"I have to go, Audrey," Zacky said. "It's my job."

"B-But what ab-about me?" I cried, my voice muffled by the thick fabric of his uniform. "A-And what t-the baby?" 

Zacky's face fell just a bit more. Only a few weeks before today, I'd found out I was expecting our first child together, and upon visiting a doctor learned I was two months along. Zacky had promised me a ring; a perfect, happy little family. An oasis. But then Zacky'd gotten the call that he was deployed, and our dreams were shattered. His leaving meant that he would miss the birth of our baby, and I knew that it killed him inside.

"You can take pictures," Zacky wagered. "Or make a video. But you know I can't stay, Audrey."

Suddenly the call was made for the troops in Zacky's infantry to report outside to the plane that would take them overseas. Zacky had been assigned to a desolate region of Iraq, so our contact with each other would be limited. Zacky dipped his head down to kiss me before he left, and the passion flowing through this connection was almost overwhelming. When we separated, Zacky gave me one last, longing look before walking away.

♪•♫•♪•♫•♪•♫•♪•♫•♪

A month or so after Zacky was deployed, I found out I was having a little girl. I was estatic; I'd always wanted a little girl. I wanted someone who would idolize me, a miniature version of myself who would want to wear my clothes and play with my makeup. I had names picked out and an ultrasound picture that I wanted to share with Zacky, but he was sent out to a mission at the last minute, and all hopes of contact were dashed.

"What were the names you had picked out, Audrey?" my friend Brittany asked.

I reached for the notebook I kept at my side almost constantly and flipped to the right page. "Tawni, Tayla, and Blaire," I listed for her, scrolling my finger down the list. "Oh, and Fae. And Tea."

"You sure do have a lot of names picked out," Brittany commented with a chuckle. "You gonna share those with Zacky?"

I pawed at my eyes, wiping away the sudden tears that were pooling. Brittany knew how much I missed Zacky, and how much I wish we could have a normal experience with our first child, instead of having him all the way across the damn ocean. "I-I haven't heard from Zacky in a while, actually," I told her. "He went out on some sort of a mission two weeks ago and I haven't heard from him since then."

"Oh Audrey, I--" Brittany began, but she stopped as the sound of the doorbell filled the small house. Placing the notebook aside, I wobbly got to my feet and went to answer the door. I could sense Brittany behind me, anxious to see who was at the door. It was probably her husband Matt - one of Zack's good friends - coming to pick her up. 

Imagine our surprise when instead of the burly, tattooed man we expected to find standing outside the door, there were two impecably dressed men, obviously from the army. The tallest looked oldest, and was quite obviously more important,  judging by his various medals.

"Good afternoon, miss," the tallest one greeted. "Is one of you Audrey Dawson?"

I raised my hand weakly as an indication. A had had found its way around my heart, constricting it. "I am," I whispered.

"We're here to speak you about Zachary James Baker," the former said next. The hand holding my heart relinquished its hold and my heart dropped to my stomach. The so far silent man slipped something out of his coat and handed it to me. It was a letter bearing the seal of the army. "I'm so sorry, miss," the man apologized, eyeing my stomach before he and his friend departed.

"What's it say, Audrey?" Brittany asked curiously.

"I-I dunno," I said shakily, running my fingers along the seal. I wanted so badly to open, but I was too scared. I thrust it at my friend. "You open it."

Shrugging, Brittany broke the seal and slid the letter out of its envelope. Her crystal blue eyes scoured the words on the paper, and when she met my gaze, they were filled to the brim with sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Audrey…" she breathed. More scared than I'd ever been before, I jerked the letter from Brittany's hand and began to read.

Miss Audrey Dawson:

We must regretfully inform you that Zachary James Baker was killed in action. We are incredibly sorry for your loss and offer our comforts to in this most darkest of hours.

"No!" I screamed, throwing the letter. Brittany blanched, watching as the tears came 
streaming down my face. "No, no, n-no…"

"Audrey?" Brittany ventured catiously. "Are you okay?"

"No I'm not fucking okay!" I shouted. "Zacky's d-dead." And this meant things would never be okay again.

♪•♫•♪•♫•♪•♫•♪•♫•♪

Zacky was buried with full military honors. Several men from his infantry shot off the guns, and a flag from his base was folded and presented to Zacky's mother. I'd wanted the flag - something that had indirectly cost Zacky his life - but deep in my heart I knew his mother deserved it more than I did.

On a unusually cold, windy day two months or so after Zacky's funeral, I went alone to his grave. I usually took one of the others with me for moral support, but I felt it needed to be only me this time. I put on an old jacket of Zack's that still smelled of his cologne and set out for the cemetery. Surprisingly, it was empty and I was able to make the trekk to Zacky's gravesite without running into any bystanders who wanted to talk about grief and dealing. I wasn't anywhere near past dealing with my grief, but that didn't mean I wanted to discuss it with a stranger.

"Hi Zack," I said lamely when I stood in front of his grave. I thought the words, the thoughts, the feelings would come easy, but they balled in my throat and made me choke. "I-I miss you. I wanted to tell you that we're having a little girl, and…and I decided to name her Tea. You always thought that was a pretty name. God, I-I wish you were here. I-I miss you so much, it-it hurts. God Zacky, it hurts so fucking bad." 

In a emotional huff, I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and was surprised to find something in one of them. I pulled it out and saw that it was an unopened condom. Why the hell was there a condom in this jacket? But of course. The last time Zacky'd worn this jacket was months ago, when he decided to serenade me with songs and sweetly scented candles; an evening that had ended in passionate lovemaking, during which Zacky forgot to put on the condom he'd brought for the occasion. That was the night we conceived Tea. Funny how such a small lapse in judgement had created something so wonderful, so beautiful. Something Zacky would never get to see. 

Sighing, I carefully crouched down and traced the words I'd chosen to have etched into Zacky's headstone.

Real heroes don't wear capes, they wear dogtags.