Post-traumatic stress disorder
noun

a condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock, typically involving disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience, with dulled responses to others and to the outside world.

The day outside the window is ridiculously sunny. It’s obnoxiously bright and if not the breeze, that shakes the trees on the same level as the third floor window, it would be unbearably hot. Even sitting right next to the barely open window, observing the people walking along the sidewalk on the other side of the street wit h ice-creams and sodas in their hands, has the heat swarming around ChangKyun.

He tightens the grip of his hands on the armrests of his chair as he feels the need to get up and go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but he slumps back down, the gaping nothing below his knees reminding about itself. Yes, sometimes he still forgot that his legs were now scattered across a field somewhere far away. With nothing less than annoyance he grabs onto the wheels of his chair and maneuvers across the almost empty living room to as empty kitchen - all freed from spare furniture for his benefit.

Even after 4 months the apartment with his ‘strong rock’, his ‘support system’, his everything, doesn’t feel like home. They moved away from the military base they called home to another country, far from anything and everything that could remind of that day. A retired soldier community overseas became their chosen destination along with an endless line for prosthetics to replace what a land mine had torn off. But even after all this time neither the line had moved forward nor the four walls in pastel beige felt like home.

“ChangKyun?” comes an almost terrified voice from the living room. In around a second a figure rushes into the kitchen, eyes big and restless, until they locate the man currently drinking water. “Don’t do that,” the man with russet brown hair frowns and takes the glass from ChangKyun’s hand and places it away. “Are you ready?” his tone changes to extremely cheerful and this time ChangKyun frowns.

“How about we skip the walk?” he asks and tries to roll pass the man with shoulders so wide and body proportion so unbelievable the whole building has nicknamed him Captain America, yet the latter doesn’t let him. He grabs the handles of the wheelchair and takes control of ChangKyun’s direction with ease.

“You need to go outside and no, sitting by the window does not count,” he ads and pushes the chair out the front door. He doesn’t let go of the handle and single handedly locks the door before steering them the the elevator. His mood is as bright as the sun outside and it’s worrying ChangKyun. Whenever Wonho’s mood was this good it wasn’t good.

“ChangKyun-ah!” comes a cheer from their left as they wait for the elevator. There’s a large, bulky, tanned man waving awkwardly with his prosthetic arm he got a month ago and a smaller, more petite and delicate looking mad next to him smiling and waving as well. Shownu and Minhyuk were their names - a couple of fellow Korean soldiers neighboring ChangKyun. On longer, more boring days talking to Shownu as both of them leaned on their windowsills was a great pass time.

“Hyung!” ChangKyun waves back, but before he can ask how the new arm feels, he’s pushed into the elevator. “That was rude,” he looks up at the man controlling his movements. There’s no response and the light cheerfulness from just few minutes ago is suddenly gone. ChangKyun doesn’t persist and leans back in the chair letting himself to be steered out of the building when the elevator reaches bottom floor.

The neighborhood where the pansion of veterans is located is calm and cosy. Few smaller shops, mostly apartment buildings, a park near by and a military base that provides work for the ex-soldiers and also works on giving back what war has taken. There are no loud sirens, no practice drills and strict routines and for most it’s exactly what’s needed to cope with reality  with missing friends and missing parts of themselves physically and mentally.

They reach the park soon in a slow stroll, the heat not being too bothersome. However the park is not ChangKyun’s favorite place. The sandy roads, the loud noises from children and cars passing by on the other side of it are catalysts for an explosion that can’t be fought back. ChangKyun can already feel in approaching slowly, each step deeper into the park getting slower, more timid until they are barely moving at all. And then it comes. The final touch in a form of a loud pop, a balloon bursting a bit further ahead followed by a child crying.

“Wonho?” ChangKyun immediately looks up. Wonho’s face is stiff and expressionless, gaze locked on something in the distance. His hands are gripping on the handles so tightly his knuckles have turned white.

“Wonho?” ChangKyun speaks again and this time the bespoken one moves. He pushes the wheelchair aside next to a bench in the shadow and moves back to where they were before. “Let’s just go back home,” ChangKyun tries to speak with him yet there’s no response. The man’s hand is tensed as if he would be ready to draw out a gun, which he of course didn’t have on him, his pupils enlarged and restless as he scanned the park.

“Stay here,” he murmurs and walks a bit further and then a bit more before he mixes into a small crowd of people buzzing around an ice-cream stand.

“As if I could go anywhere,” ChangKyun sighs and leans his head back, his brown bangs falling off his forehead as he gazes at the emerald green roof above his head, the sun shining through the trees. He feels the breeze he saw through the window rustling his hair and if not the switch that had been in Wonho’s brain, the walk wouldn’t be so bad. He missed calm, easy strolls they used to have before hell on earth happened. He missed actual walking while holding Wonho’s hand and the feeling of just the two of them. He missed it all even more when he thought of how unreachable any of that was now.

“Let’s go,” Wonho suddenly appears from nowhere right behind ChangKyun and begins to push the wheelchair twice as fast as before. He doesn’t greet the guard when they enter the house, nor he slows down the elevator even though someone is rushing to it. He fidgets with the keys at the door, but as soon as he gets the door open he pushes ChangKyun in and scans the hallway for good three minutes before closing the door as quietly as humanly possible and locking them. Frantically he closes the window and checks each room twice before he starts to slowly calm down.

“Should have skipped the walk,” he murmurs as he pushes ChangKyun further in the apartment. Every trace of his bubbly mood is gone as so is the sun outside, thick clouds suddenly covering the sky, promising a heavy rain soon. As the grey clouds are disturbing the sky, Wonho restlessly walks from room to room, not even sitting down for a second, promising a heavy night as well and ChangKyun is not wrong even a single bit, even though he wishes he would be.

The nightmares attack mercilessly, making Wonho to toss and turn in his sleep. He screams and murmurs quotes from that day more than half a year ago, ChangKyun knows as he remembers that day far too well too.

It was a regular scouting mission as an ally force lead by him. Just a handful of men marking a road far from enemies activity zone, securing a road for a supply convoy heading their way.. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous, let alone life threatening but as soon as he heard a click under his boot he knew they had walked into a trap no one even suspected.

“Get back,” he whispered, fearing to even breathe. “Get back and report a mine trap,” he added and all soldiers but one moved back, Wonho standing where he was, absolutely frozen and shocked.

“I said move back. It’s an order,” ChangKyun repeated, glancing over his shoulder as Wonho was being pulled back by another soldier. He knew letting a couple to serve together was a mistake, especially when the youngest of two had a higher rank, especially when this could happen.

He turned back to the trouble he’s in and started to look as carefully as possible at the ground further ahead, small rock like knobs now seeming out place more and more. “They have mined the whole road,” he reported to the men behind him. “How far is the supply convoy taking this route?”

“Around 30 minutes, sir,” came a response that made him curse under his breath, That meant no time for sappers to come and deactivate the old school yet effective trap when taken by surprise. His brain was frying up and not many options seemed good enough, so he soundlessly motioned one of his men to come closer. He handed his gun and ammo to him, remaining in only protecting gear.

“Prepare bandages and constrictors. Report in a heavy injury,” he gave short instructions and turned away before he could register Wonho trying to break out of arms of fellow soldiers. ChangKyun took a deep breath and jumped back, another click being the only thing he heard before everything was just loud, blurry, hot and painful. He felt his back hitting the sand and his name being screamed somewhere behind him through a white noise. Nothing was the same afterwards.

Wonho was the first one who got to him, first one to see raw, bloody mess of muscles and bones ripped apart right below ChangKyun’s knees. ChangKyun could still feel Wonho trembling and hear him murmuring most random things. He could see his eyes watering and that almost, almost being more painful than the terrifying nothing where once his shins were. That day he left a literal part of himself in that sandy, distorted country while Wonho left a part of soul, his sanity there.

With all his might, missing the leverage of digging knees into the mattress, ChangKyun tried to hold the tossing and turning Wonho in place, his nightmares worse than other nights. It’s a struggle for hours to keep him from accidentally hurting himself and trying to calm him down with soft words and gentle touches. At least once a week it had become a night torment, a terror which Wonho denied of having in the morning. He didn’t accept having a problem, an issue he needed help with.

His life was still in frames of military precision. Waking up at 5AM, not changing a thing in workout routine, working certain hours, returning home on precise times and going to sleep on specific hour. He didn’t trust a single person - the neighboring couple being on the top of his black list, not to mention strangers. Even the smallest sounds - pops and clicks - threw him right back to that day and deeper into world of nightmares. He was paranoid and to hide all the mess he had in his head he forced out smiles and laughter, which was most unnatural thing. For all this time he hadn’t once smiled like used before, not once his blinding smile had made a return.

Only around dawn Wonho calms down, his head resting on ChangKyun’s thigh as the latter threads his fingers through his hair. Jokingly ChangKyun thanks he still has thighs, keeping all these jokes to himself, as Wonho didn’t like them a single bit. He hums something random, Wonho finally sleeping peacefully, and watches how the sun is slowly rising behind the curtain covered window. It’s going to be another hot day, hopefully without cloud covering the sky. Hopefully with no night terrors attacking in day time.

Notes:

I kind of want to continue this a bit further eventually, involving more of the lovely neighbor couple. I want to fix what I broke myself. I actually have clear ideas, so I will add a chapter or two to this when they happen on 'paper' :3 .