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Sometime after returning from Tehran, after watching Hossein sacrifice himself at the border, Amir decided to go home. Not 'home' like his apartment in Newport News. But home like Lebanon. He hadn't been back in almost a decade. He held tight to his culture, to his customs, to his family. But being home, walking the streets of Beirut, shouldered him with such immense amounts of grief, Amir had long ago vowed not to look back.
Coming back to Turkey, though, his nights were filled with nightmares of some combination of Jaz, Hossein, and his sister. Not that that was unheard of. He was pretty good at compartmentalizing, at working around his particular brand of trauma. They all carried some weight, every member of the team had a reason for being here. None of them faulted each other for that. But for some reason, lately, Amir was finding it especially difficult to leave his ghosts behind.
Top gave him the choice of seeing the base psychologist or taking a few days of leave, and Amir had approximately zero interest in the former. So he booked a flight to Beirut and packed a bag. He got as far as his hotel room before realizing he absolutely couldn't do this without talking to anyone.
There were a handful of names in his contact list who would get it. But he found himself scrolling to Hannah's name, his newest contact. He'd never even used it. All of their correspondence had been through static-y video chats on the sat phone in the common area or emails written at odd hours. But now he was here and he could call her.
"I was just emailing you." Her voice in his ear was warm and comforting. Amir breathed a little deeper.
"I could always hang up," he offered, sinking onto the edge of the bed, scrubbing his free hand over his face, looking at his reflection in the TV. He looked tired. He was tired.
"I can multitask," Hannah assured him, the smile evident in her voice. "You want to talk about it?"
"No." Amir chuckled humorlessly, closing his eyes. "Not yet. Okay?"
"Okay." Hannah shuffled on the other end of the line. He imagined her in bed. Comfortable. Safe. "I ordered from that Lebanese place you recommended."
It was an absolutely honest comment, but it smacked him in the chest and it took a second for Amir to inhale again. "Oh yeah? How'd you like it?"
He can hear her calculating, figuring out if she should push or back off. Hannah seemed to decide to let it go.
"Delicious but I'm still waiting on the home-cooked version. I missed your voice, you know. I always do."
"Yours too. It's been a rough few weeks." Amir gave up on staying upright and shifted to lay on the bed instead, staring up at the ceiling.
"You don't have to carry it all yourself, you know. I know it's easier said than done but...learning is worth it, I think."
He could imagine her curled beside him, her gaze trained steadily on him, patient. Wasn't that why he called? Amir exhaled slowly, his eyes closed.
"How many years of therapy does it take before you start sounding like a therapist?" he asked, the words teasing but his tone falling flat.
"Oh, a few," Hannah replied, her voice smiling again.
"I'm in Beirut," he said finally. Letting go of that weight on its own felt like a victory. A small one, but he'd take what he could get today.
"Amir...you went home?" For someone who'd only known him a short time, Hannah understood him perfectly. It felt like a risk, sitting with that knowledge. He wasn't used to people seeing him. The invisible man, it was all he'd been for so long. Maybe too long.
"I needed to stop running away," he said, barely above a whisper. "This place has had so much power over me for so long."
"You're stronger than that power, you know. You're stronger than a lot of things."
"It doesn't so much feel like it right now." Amir felt weaker than he had in years, and it was terrifying.
"Breathe. Sit with it a minute, okay? It's only a feeling. It can't hurt you. You're safe." Hannah recited the words like a mantra and Amir wondered if she used them on herself.
An eternity passed and the pressure in his chest finally ebbed, slowly receding until he could breathe without shaking.
"There you go," Hannah murmured, like she'd coaxed the fear out of him, which, he supposed she sort of had.
"I'm much better at dealing with other people's problems," Amir offered, an apology of sorts for unloading this on her.
"You can't be good at everything. I know it's a hard lesson to learn, trust me," Hannah laughed softly. "But practice makes...well, not perfect, but easier."
"You're really smart, you know that?"
"I've heard that a time or two. I'm just trying to help. It's the least I can do after you spent hours reading me to sleep." Hannah laughed again, but Amir could hear the underlying shift. He imagined her rubbing her fingers over the scar on her neck, the one his mouth had lingered on. She hadn't pushed him away, and he was realizing now, exactly how brave that was.
"Reading to you was a privilege. I'd do it again in a heartbeat," he promised, reflexively checking the time.He had nowhere to be on any schedule, not really, but time kept him tethered to reality beyond this city and the memories it held.
"I'd say you won't have to but I think we'd both know I was lying."
"You're allowed to need things, Hannah. There's no weakness in that. That's human." Amir knew he should heed his own advice, and maybe that was why he and Hannah worked so well together. They provided a mirror of sorts, to reflect in to each other, to learn without judgement.
"Now who's the therapist?" she teased, sighing. "You're right. I know you're right. I'm just not used to needing people."
"That makes two of us. But I called, so we're learning, right?" Amir asked.
"We're learning," Hannah echoed in agreement. "Can I do anything else to help?"
"You can promise me you'll be home in two weeks and let me make you dinner."
"Two weeks you said? Hmm, I'll have to check my calendar...my boyfriend might be in town, I might be busy," Hannah replied apologetically.
Amir chuckled. "Is that so? I might have to reschedule,then." It felt a little silly, for all they'd both been through, for what they did every day, to define what they had as 'boyfriend and girlfriend' but it made him goofily happy nonetheless.
"Two weeks, really?" Hannah asked, hopeful.
"Fifteen days." He'd been keeping it to himself, unwilling to put too much weight into it, but now it felt worthy.
"My boyfriend'll just have to wait then," Hannah decided, and he pictured her smirk tugging at her lips, imagined kissing her mouth again.
"Something tells me, I don't think he'll mind."
"No," Hannah agreed. "I don't think so either."
Fifteen days to home, to her. He'd faced hell a million times over, he could confront his personal demons, too. He'd put them to rest and she'd be waiting. Amir thought maybe, just maybe, he could deal with that.