Gauze and Glow

Dusk settled over the forward operating base, red sunset bleeding out over jagged hills as the camp eased into night. The FOB hummed low with distant clatter from the mess shack and a stray cough from the racks, but the air inside hung still, thick with the day’s weight.

Jake led Travis in from the skirmish, his arm still bleeding through a torn sleeve—a dark smear against fair skin. They slumped onto the cot, boots scuffing the dirt floor. Travis winced, peeling off his shirt to bare the gash—fabric dropped, revealing freckled shoulders and a lean frame—Jake rested a steady hand on his arm, easing him still, then dropped his rifle to rip open the med kit with tight grip. Gauze and a canteen spilled out—he splashed water over the wound, shallow but messy—a ragged line above the elbow—and scrubbed it clean. The sting drew a hiss from Travis. “Stings like hell,” he muttered, voice shaky with pain and leftover adrenaline—blue-gray eyes flicked up. “Gonna scar?”

“Not deep,” Jake said, low and firm, keeping his gaze on the wound—his hand firm on Travis’s shoulder. “Hold still.” Callused fingers worked the gauze, pressing it tight—a faint tremble ran through—Travis’s blood under his touch, the skirmish slamming back—shots, Travis’s grunt—faith strained, urging him steady—needing Travis’s stubborn will to ground the ache dad’s drinking left, a silence he’d carried alone.

Travis gritted his teeth—watching Jake’s hands, steady where his shook—one still resting light on his bare arm. “You didn’t flinch out there,” he said, words spilling rough, “pulling me in—why?” Pain and trust tangled—cracking a guard he’d worn since they arrived—Jake’s heart shone through hazel, raw and real—a pull he couldn’t dodge. “Thought God’d leave me out there—always does,” he added, voice dropping—faith a sore spot, mom’s hymns lost when dad walked.

“Couldn’t leave you,” Jake said, quieter—voice catching as relief and fear tangled—Travis’s grit stitching a hole dad’s chaos tore—he’d have broken without him. He tied off the bandage with a quick knot—“Done now”—easing his hand from Travis’s shoulder—fingers lingered soft on his arm—eyes caught—locked hard in lantern glow. Faith pulsed—Travis’s will a lifeline—keeping him whole where dad’s drinking hollowed him out.

Outside, Eddie’s loud laugh echoed from the mess shack, cutting through the hum—Ray’s boots thudded past the tent flap—unit life rolled on, blind to the pull thickening inside. The lantern flickered—glow dancing over the cot—Travis slumped back against the wall—breath steadying—arm limp at his side—his chest tight with Jake’s heart, faith a raw ache he couldn’t name yet. Jake stayed close—rifle propped nearby—Bible’s bulge pressing his pocket—his hand resting light on Travis’s arm a moment longer—a trust forged raw stretched between them—two souls bared in dust and blood—pulling them deeper into night’s wrestle—threading firm through scars and quiet.

(Condensed chapter from a longer story, Brothers in Dust, contact if interested in full story.)