Chapter Text
Kick walks up to Hesh, sitting down beside the man. “Are you good?” He asks, looking at Hesh.
Hesh doesn’t respond, pulling Kick into a tight hug. Kick doesn’t fight it, gently patting Hesh on the back as Hesh let out a frustrated noise.
“Why didn’t you eat?” Kick asks, moving his hand to run through Hesh’s hair, which was now growing out from its usual buzz cut.
“You and Keegan.” mutters Hesh, who gripped onto Kick tighter. All of the sudden, Kick was hit with a deep feeling of guilt. “Sorry.” Kick says. Hesh just shrugs, burying his face in Kick’s shoulder.
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A few days go by, and Hesh seems to be getting slightly better. He’s showering, eating, and finally shaved for the first time in weeks.
All of that ended quickly when he discovered where the Rorke Files were. He listened to a few of them. One of them talked about Logan. He didn’t like that. It hurt to listen to. 100 men for another Ghost. Why was Logan different from the others? From him?
Hesh didn’t know how to feel. It was a complex mix of feelings, and he wanted to throw up.
He made his way back to his room, choosing to sit on the floor, leaned up against his cot. His tears were still drying on his cheeks, his look blank, his knees to his chest.
There he sat for a solid 30 minutes. He was just processing. And then he looked over at his nightstand. There, a pocketknife rested. Hesh wasn’t thinking as he reached for it, opening the knife and looking down at it.
If he was actually going to do this, he had to be smart about this. If he cuts his arms, people will notice. But what about his thighs? His chest? Will anyone notice then?
Hesh’s hands started shaking. He wanted to cut into his skin, wanted to see the way the knife split the soft skin of his thighs. But he knew that if anyone found out, he could be kicked out of the military.
Before he could make a decision, kick walked in, looking down at the pocket knife in Hesh’s hand.
“What are you doing with that?” Kick asks, taking the knife. A fresh wave of tears spring in Hesh’s eyes, but he doesn’t let them fall. Instead, he curls in on himself, hiding his face and trying to make himself seem smaller.
“C’mon, let’s go talk to Doc. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to find out what you were about to do.” Kick says, grabbing Hesh by the bicep and dragging him to medbay.
The doc, Mason, was talking with another medic, restocking shelves and medication.
“Oh, hey Kick. What do you two need?” Mason asks, looking up from the medicine cabinet.
“Guess who got caught tryna hurt himself?” Kick says, glaring at Hesh, who was shaking now.
Mason looks over the two, looking back at the medicine cabinet, before looking back at the two. “Kick, why don’t you leave Hesh with me. Im sure the last thing he needs is getting chewed out.” Mason says, standing up and walking over to the two men, leading Hesh over to a cot.
“Hey man, can you tell me what Kick means about you trying to hurt yourself?” *Mason asks, gently pushing Hesh down onto the cot and putting his hands on Hesh’s shoulders. “I- I don’t know..” says Hesh, who was still pretty out of it. “Look, buddy. I’m gonna refer you to the base psychologist. I’m sure she’ll be a lot more help than I am.” Mason says, patting Hesh on the shoulder before directing him on where to go.
Now, Hesh had to find a woman named Beetle Juice.