I get to the base in Quantico to welcome back Trevor. I am greeted by May, my mom, Rachel and Hailey and Maggie. I walk over to Maggie and hug her.
"I needed to be here. I just needed to see everyone else come back home even if Mikey couldn't, you know?" She lets out a few tears and shaky breaths.
"Thank you for welcoming them home. I'm sure every single one of them will love to see you." I smile with a few tears making their escape.
We wait and see them finally enter through the gates. People all around us jump and cheer, holding signs that welcome them home. There are marines who haven't left yet welcoming them, wives, husbands, parents, siblings, and other military personnel. I look around at all of the excited racket taking place. I decided to join in on the chaos. I see 13 men get out of one convoy as a group of twenty or more people rush over to it to embrace their loved ones. A few more groups of people do the same. Then I finally see Trevor's convoy approach.
We all run over to the big vehicle making it's way down the track. The men unload, and I finally see him. My husband. He makes eye contact with me and makes his way over to me. He puts one hand on the small of my back and the other on my cheek and smiles down at me. I stand on my toes and kiss him. He wraps both hands around my waist and lifts me up as I grip the back of his uniform. He lets me down and the others run and hug him as well.
All of the men seem to look up at the same time to a small voice. "Welcome home guys." It was Maggie. They all stopped what they were doing and slowly made their way toward her. She extends her arms to Trevor and he takes off his hat then hugs her deeply. The other men leave their families to join in. They all take their hats off, go to her and hug her, one by one. Each apologized for her loss. She apologized to them for their loss. A few of them just break down at the site of her. She tries to hold her composure, but fails.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't save him." Trevor exclaims, breaking down in front of her.
Maggie cradles his head to her chest and says softly, "It's not your fault. Your only job was to keep a smile on his face and you did that so well. You have no idea how much he looked up to you."
Cries and sniffles echo all around me. Men who are the epitome of tough and strong look like children clinging to their mothers on their first day of kindergarten. Other marines stop by to offer their condolences to Maggie, and continue on their way with their families.
The first few weeks were all about changes. We had to sell our apartment to move to the base, I continued going to school while Trevor continued his training. I went to the studio to teach dance while he went to group therapy. The only time we had together was when we slept in bed. There were a few nights when Trevor would spring out of bed and get into a stance that looked like he was looking through the scope of a gun. Then he made me keep the ceiling fans off because if he'd fall asleep watching the fans he'd wake up screaming from night terrors.
The only place where I truly feel like I'm safe, is being harbored by a man who can't see that he needs help. So, I retreat to the dance studio where I'm surrounded by a bunch of people who think they're the best things to walk this planet. Anthony, Christian, myself, and a few others work on the party scenes and the fights scenes the most. Being that those are the most complex dances, with the most people, we work on those four first.
I get to the studio after class and work on my solo pieces since no one else is here yet. Then I hear a voice behind me.
"That was brilliant." Christian says with his thick accent. I just glare at him. He smirks then adds, "No really. It's so raw. You can really see how much care you put into the part of Juliet."
"Thanks." I say plainly.
"But I would go for something more like this..." And he hits play on the "I hate you I love you" song and does a few moves that I have to admit I actually like. He stops and catches his breath. "What do you think?" He asks.
"I think you need to let her do what she wants to do since she's the choreographer." Trevor enters the room. He looks Christian up and down as he backs away from the tall soldier standing in front of him. "You okay, babe?" He looks at me.
"Yeah, I'm fine. My artists are allowed to give opinions and help with choreography." I tell him. I turned to Christian, "But he is right. I am the choreographer and I don't do that much in the first solo because I have back-to-back songs. Like, five in a row and I need to conserve my energy."
Christian puts his hands up like he's surrendering and walks out of the room. Trevor walks in beside me and kisses me on the cheek.
"I can take care of myself, you know." I say to him, crossing my arms.
"I know. I just hate how smug he looked. Like he thought he was better than you." He looks at the door, making sure he still isn't here.
"That's just Christian. Actually, that's just dancers and actors in general, babe. I'm used to it."
It was finally opening night. I just finished the last of my finals, and now I'm standing backstage with fifty dancers who look like they want to hurl. I look behind the curtain as the theater fills up with more and more people. I see Trevor with a few other marines that wanted to support me. He spots me and winks while he hold two thumbs up. The opening credits roll as the Montague family takes the stage. We get through the first act and have the first of 5 remissions in the two hour long showcase. We go out for act two, three, four, and then finally hit the closing numbers with "Say Something", "Apologize", and end the entire show with a group dance and bows with "If I Lose Myself." The crowd interrupts with cheers and a standing ovation. We all take our bows and run off the stage after the curtain falls.
The next three nights are filled with more of the same, and Trevor sitting right up front with a different group of buddies coming to cheer me on. They all say how lucky he is, how beautiful I am, how great the show was. People are coming to me and telling me how amazing the performance was. How impressed they were with my choreography.
Trevor and I got to our little home on the base. I get a shower and come back out to the living room to see Trevor white as a ghost. "What's wrong?" I asked, sitting next to him.
"Chris killed himself." That is all he said. Then he throws his phone against the wall, shattering it and takes off out the front door. I yelled after him, but it was no use.
I pace around our living room, waiting for Trevor to come back home. Five hours later, Trevor comes into the house, soaking wet. I ran to him and hugged him. Then I slap him. "You scared me! You can't just tell me something like that then run out the door! Not in that condition! Then not come home for five hours? Do you know how scared I was?" I was yelling at him. Then I look at his face and see that his cheek is bleeding. "What happened?" I point at the fresh cut.
Trevor touches his cheek and winces. He walks into the bathroom and looks in the mirror. "Oh. I was running through the woods and I must have cut myself." He sounded cold. No emotions. Just monotone. He turns and looks at me. His eyes are red and puffy. Then he collapses on the ground.
Eight days later:
"I can't believe I lost another brother." Trevor says, grabbing my hand to steady himself.
"I can't imagine how you're feeling right now. But Trevor, you can talk to me about anything." I rub his thigh.
The funeral procession begins. We stand at the grave as soldiers dressed in blue fold an American flag for Chris's wife. Then we hear the rifles cock and shoot for the 21 gun salute. Trevor tries to hold his composure, but flinches as each shot echoes in his chest. This was a lot like Mike's funeral, but Trevor didn't get the chance to come.
After the funeral, we walked over to Mike's grave. "I sure could use one of your rap lines Lil Shawty. I miss you man." And he kneels down and places a single white rose on the ground. A few sobs escape his body. He sniffs, rubs a fist against his eyes and stands. He clears his throat. "Let's go." He grabs my hand and we leave the cemetery.
It was July fourth. Trevor and I went to a big party outside the base with a lot of the other marines to celebrate. We all partied, sang karaoke, and danced. All of the wives and girlfriends cheered as the guys all sang "Courtesy of The Red, White, and Blue" and the men all cheered as us ladies sang "Let Freedom Ring." It was a big party full of laughter, cheers, and chanting. Some people thanked the guys for their service as other people spat at them.
A few weeks later, I am running between the bedroom and the bathroom. Trevor holds my hair back as I repeatedly throw up. "I'm not sure how to help." He just looks at me like a lost puppy.
"I need some electrolytes. Can you just go to the store and get me some Gatorade and some ginger ale?" I ask him.
"Are you sure I should leave you alone?" He grabs my hand.
"Babe... I went through what felt like non-stop vomiting when you were at basic. I can handle a few minutes while you go to the store down the road." I smile at him and he kisses me on the cheek.
I sit on the couch and wait for him to come back. An hour later, and I have called Trevor six times. I am starting to worry and pace the floor between the living room and kitchen. Then, I see red and blue lights pulling into our driveway. I see two police officers and two people with suits on approach my door. I walk over to it and open the door.
"Excuse ma'am, are you April Fogherty, wife of Gunnery Sergeant Trevor Daniel Fogherty?" The tall man in the suit asks as he shows me a badge with the words NCIS written on it. I nod my head. "Ma'am may we come in?"
I gesture for them to come through the door. We sit at the kitchen table and the other man in the suit starts to speak."Ma'am I'm sorry to inform you, but your husband has been involved in an accident."
"Is he okay?" I ask, with a whispered rasp to my voice.
"I'm sorry to inform you that he was involved in a head on collision with a drunk driver and was pronounced deceased at the scene..." He continues on, but I can't make out the words.
It sounds like there's a deep hum filling my ears as I hear my heart beating louder and harder through my throat, pounding in my ears. I run to the bathroom and throw up once more. One of the officers accompanying the NCIS agents follows me in and helps me up while the other hands me a glass of water. I feel like I'm dreaming and someone or something will wake me up from this nightmare.
Five days later and I'm the one receiving the folded American Flag. Maggie walks up to me and hugs me. She knows what I'm going through, but yet, it's completely different. I hear some guests say something along the lines of "it's so crazy. He goes to war and survives just long enough to get killed by a drunk driver." I shake off the comments, the sympathies, and the pitying glances that everyone gives me.
I feel like I just drift through the funeral, the dinner, and the next few weeks. Then I celebrate my very first wedding anniversary all by myself. I raise my glass of gin to his picture in front of the flag sitting on my bookshelf and gulp it down. I decide to wash it down with a few more glasses.