Teaser Tuesday - again, again, again

Edited to add: Today, the bodies of 8 British soldiers, killed over a brief span of 24 hours, have returned home. When their coffins arrive at the Air Force Base, a brief Repatriation Ceremony is held and Union Jacks are draped over their coffins. Then, a procession of hearses will pass through the village of Wootton Bassett on their way to the John Radcliffe Infirmary in Oxford. Ever since 2007, the villagers have stood in silence to watch the hearses pass by in honor of the fallen soldiers. It is a moving and heartbreaking sight and, today will be particularly hard. Several of the soldiers were only 18 or 20 and died in a 'daisy chain' explosion. They were trying to help comrades who had been injured by the first bomb when a second IED was detonated.

"At the going down of the sun and in the morning we will remember them...."




This is from the WIP. It's undergoing some revisions but, here's another scene.

After quite a few weeks and a dreadful argument, Christopher and Grace are reunited. This scene takes place after the big, emotional reunion.

He limped into the bedroom. “Are you sure you don’t want to turn out the light?” He unfastened his fly buttons. “They’re pretty bloody ugly, darling.”

“I don’t mind.” She watched him as he sank onto the bed and pushed his jeans away. He swung his legs onto the bed and she noticed how he studied her face as she looked at his leg. She bit her lip and surveyed the brutal damage. The long sweep of thigh that she had once loved to run her fingers along, was now pock-marked with misshapen, puckered scars, ranging from an inch in diameter to five inches. Raw, red skin as fine and crinkled as tissue paper stretched across the smaller, concave ones where chunks of flesh had been cut away by the surgeons at Fort Bastion. There was another scar, a two-inch line, where the surgeons had pinned his leg back together. The largest, discolored ones were where the skin grafts had taken. That he had managed to keep his leg was a miracle.

“Do they hurt?” Grace asked. Her eyes burned with unshed, angry tears. She wanted to kill the man who had done this.

“The big ones do. There was a lot of nerve damage. They’re starting to grow back and they hurt… a lot. That’s why there’s all those pills. There’s a whole pharmacy of pain pills in there.” He rolled onto his side and pulled his shorts down, half way. “That’s where they took the skin for the grafts. Sorry, darling, my arse isn’t as nice as it once was.”

Grace touched the two patches where a faint, mesh pattern could be seen in the new skin. “Your arse is just fine.”

“Thank you, darling.” He put his shorts right and sat up once more.

She ran a cautious finger around the edge of the largest scar on his thigh. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t repulsed. Christopher reached for her hand and held it to his face. “Thank you, Grace. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

“It’s all right. I’ll do my best for you, I really will.” She wasn’t sure how or what she faced but it had to be done. She stood up and peered out of the window. “I think you got here just in time. It’s snowing now.” She drew the curtains and crawled under the bedclothes. The snow thudded, softly against the window and the room was cold. Grace reached for the lamp as Christopher curled up against her. She reveled in the warm weight of him as his head rested on her shoulder and she fell asleep, holding him.