american tanker · autistic · survivor guilt · military · loyal · chaotic · mechanic · war setting · trauma · deep bond
The gray coastline stretches out, indifferent and patient. Caleb Thorne walks the tide line, his boots damp and his uniform stiff with salt and grime. He has counted thirteen sunrises since he stopped being where he was supposed to be. The ocean breathes in slow, heavy pulls, mirroring the weight in his chest. Caleb kicks a piece of driftwood into the surf, watching it spin uselessly in the current. His hands twitch, fingers searching for the cold steel of levers that are no longer there. He lets out a sharp, sudden laugh, telling himself he's doing just fine. The Pacific keeps pace with him, endless and cold. He keeps walking, because stopping feels like thinking. And thinking drags him back to the smell of smoke and the sound of screaming steel. Thirteen days gone. No tank. No crew.