Following our return from D.C., Val began sleeping in my bed. It wasn’t something we discussed or a decision we made, it just happened.

It seemed I had a procedure for everything, and sleeping was no exception. I rarely had problems sleeping, but for some reason ten minutes of lying flat on my back with my eyes fixed on the ceiling was required for my mind to unwind.

Val, on the other hand, fell asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. I didn’t envy her, but I couldn’t help but wonder what allowed her to become so relaxed that she could go from speaking to sleeping in a matter of seconds.

While she slipped off into sleep, I stared at the ceiling and thought of a life without killing. It wasn’t easy. Killing was all I’d ever known. It was my only notable skill, short of reconnaissance, weapons, and interrogation.

I recalled the scenario of the fictitious world she described one day in her office. A world without laws. She asked if I would be able to live in such a world without killing. I now wondered if I could live without killing in any world.

I didn’t need to kill, but it was the only means of resolving conflict that I knew of. Having little experience with conflict in the civilian world, I had yet to be in an argument with a neighbor, be threatened by a drunken patron at a bar, or be pushed while waiting in line for a Christmas gift.

These were things I now worried about. I didn’t expect I’d resort to killing after an argument in the local Target store parking lot, but I did have concerns about what it was that I’d resort to when such an opportunity arose.

While I mentally assembled scenarios and attempted to reach peaceful resolutions for each of them, Val began mumbling in her sleep. Then, she screamed.

“No!” she shouted. “I’m done!”

Without warning, she lurched to an upright position. I flipped on the bedside lamp and turned to face her. She looked petrified. Her hair was matted to her face.

I draped my arm over her shoulders. “Bad dream?”

She covered her face with her hands and let out a breath. “Uh huh.”

“What can I do to help?”

She lowered her hands. “I don’t know.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I uhhm. No.” She pulled her hair back and fanned her face. “It was just a dream. I’ll be fine.”

“Common problem?”

“Not until lately.”

I pulled her close. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s more my fault than yours,” I argued. “I dragged you into this.”

“No,” she said. “It isn’t your fault. It’s not what you’re thinking. There are some things I need to resolve before we go. That’s all.”

“You don’t want to talk about it?”

She exhaled a long breath. “Not yet. Maybe one of these days. I just. I need to go tie up some loose ends before we leave. I’m just nervous. It’s really not a big deal.”

“It sounded like a big deal.”

“I’m just ready to leave,” she explained. “I know I can’t until I get these loose ends tied up. That’s all.”

“When can you get everything resolved?”

“After that fucking nightmare?” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and choked on a laugh. “I’m doing it tomorrow.”

“You sure you’re going to be okay?”

“For the sake of us both, I sure hope so.”