Settling dust began to unveil the chaos waiting behind it, a sight that would horrify most unless they were unfortunate enough to be used to it. Would anyone be truly used to such a thing? Probably not. Not unless they had spent the previous nine months patching up their friends and locals caught in the daily routines of a war-torn country. It wasn't something anyone should consider normal, but that was the sad reality some had to live with. It wasn't until a particular day in November that "normal" was something they would have hoped for.

The noise was deafening, but was it the series of explosions or the screams of soldiers and civilians alike? There were screams for the medics, but he couldn't tell where they were coming from, it seemed to surround him. Help was needed in all directions, but where was he supposed to start? There weren't enough of him to go around, but he did his best to assess those he could while the other medic scrambled to do the same. The carnage was like nothing he'd ever seen, and if he weren't living it he'd have assumed he walked onto the set of a splatter film.

Bodies were scattered about, some trying to get back to their feet, some groaning and crying out in pain, and some were just motionless. Among the motionless was a local who had befriended the unit, under him was a small child clutching a stuffed rabbit in blood-stained hands. He couldn't even begin to process what had happened, but the destruction surrounding him painted a picture he could never unsee. Able to somewhat come to his senses, he went to the first body closest to him, a fellow soldier. He could tell they had taken quite the impact from the blast, the back of his ACU's tattered and red, large pieces of shrapnel embedded in the flesh below. The soldier was barely conscious, words and blood gurgling in his throat as he tried to speak with no success. He couldn't be moved, not without risking further injury, but something had to be done. The soldier's leg looked to be in even worse shape, and if something wasn't done immediately, odds were they would lose him.

He tried to assure his brother in arms that everything would be okay, but the tone of his voice said otherwise. Feeling around for the chain that held the soldier's dog tags, he moved them around to read the man's name. Reading the last name caused him to panic, it wasn't possible. Confused, and in utter disbelief, he turned the soldier around and saw own his face staring back at him, green eyes were almost lifeless and sand was stuck to his sweat and blood-covered face.

In an instant, King's eyes snapped open with a scream that ripped past his lips. The sobs that followed were gutwrenching but had him distracted enough to not notice Moose when he came into the bedroom. The large dog made his way onto the bed and forced himself into King's personal space, allowing the man to bury his face in his fur. He stayed that way until the hyperventilating subsided and the crying became manageable, the dog never moved a muscle. He hadn't trained Moose to help him in those situations, but he was thankful that the large animal took it upon himself to make sure he was okay.

It took King a good half hour to consider himself somewhat okay, figuring it was best to just go for a run. The fresh air would hopefully do him some good. With his mind a wreck, he still managed to get ready, putting on his prosthetic leg, and proceeded to finish getting dressed completely unaware that the low battery warning light was lit.