Page 48 of When We Collide

“Just come back to me,” I whisper, more to myself than to him, but he hears it anyway. He glances at me, his expression softening for just a moment before the mask of determinationslips back into place. He opens the door to the SUV and gestures for me to get in.

“I will,” he says simply, and for a moment, I believe him.

“Dean?”

A few hours go by tortuously slowly while we continue the drive to the location they’re going to be leading the operation from. Dean is still thrumming with agitation and has yet to speak to me in full sentences. All I’m getting from him are one-word answers. The rude git isn’t even looking at me. Sighing, I turn in my seat to face him.

“How long are you going to keep ignoring me?” I ask. Dean tears his eyes away from the road and looks at me.

“I'm not ignoring you, Jeyla, but I am pissed off,” Dean says, his voice tight with frustration. He runs a hand through his hair,eyes narrowing as he shifts his gaze back to the road. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you snuck into the trunk of a military vehicle. What kind of person does that? Do you even realize how dangerous that was? You could have died in there, suffocated or been crushed if we got into an accident.”

His words sting, but I refuse to back down. “When you’re faced with the possibility of losing the two people you love most in this world, death suddenly seems insignificant in comparison,” I reply, my voice softer but no less determined.

Dean lets out a long, exasperated sigh, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Jeyla, I told you I was going to get DJ back to you safely. Why couldn’t you just trust me?”

“It’s not about trust, Dean,” I say, shaking my head, trying to make him understand. “It’s never been about that. My heart simply wouldn’t allow me to sit back and do nothing. Not after the last time. I couldn’t just sit there, alone, waiting for that knock on the door from your superiors, telling me that I’d lost both you and DJ. The thought of it paralyzed me. I just… couldn’t do it.”

Dean’s jaw tightens as he glances over at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and concern. “And you think being close, being right in the middle of it all, would be any better? That somehow, watching or listening to everything unfold would hurt less? It won’t, Jeyla. If anything, it will tear you apart even more. That memory will stay with you forever. That’s what I’ve been trying to protect you from.”

I shrug, my gaze dropping to my hands, fingers twisting together in my lap. “Maybe it would hurt more,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “But at least I’d be there. At least I’d know. The uncertainty, the waiting, that would have killed me, Dean.”

For a moment, silence fills the SUV, the tension between us thick and heavy. I can see the conflict in his eyes, the way his resolve wavers as he struggles to understand my need to be here, to be involved. Finally, he sighs again, a sound filled with resignation.

“I get it,” he says quietly, his voice softer now, tinged with sadness. “I understand why you did it, but you should have thought about DJ before you put yourself at risk. If you had died in the trunk and I went on this mission and died too, did you stop to consider what might have happened to him?”

I look up at him, my heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I did, of course,” I whisper. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about, but knowing DJ has our families to love and care for him made the decision a little easier. DJ doesn’t have a shortage of people who love him. He has his Uncle Oz and Auntie Ash, and his godparents who I trust him with completely. He adores Oz and they share a special bond, so I have no doubts over whether they would love and protect him just as we would.” Dean doesn’t say anything, he only exhales slowly, giving me a brief, tight-lipped smile before turning his attention back to the road.

The silence that follows is loaded but laced with a new understanding, a fragile truce between us. As we continue our drive, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re both teetering on the edge of something profound and terrifying; an unknown journey that will test not just our resolve, but our love and trust in each other. The comms machine crackles, breaking into the silence. I watch Dean as he reaches for it and pushes the button.

“Bravo two, this is Alpha one, do you copy?” He looks ahead at the car in front of us. “Bravo two, do you read me?” he repeats and the radio crackles in response. “Shit.”

“What's wrong?” I ask as he flashes his headlights at the car in front of us as he slows his speed.

“We've lost communication.” He mutters pushing the button on the radio, “Bravo two this is Alpha one, come in. Over.” Dean waits a moment, staring at the SUV in front of us driving on, before switching the channel and trying again. “Base Command this is Alpha One, do you read me? Over.” The radio crackles with white noise, no response. Dean’s brows are pulled together tight as he fishes out his phone and sighs. “No signal.”

“How can you lose communication?”

“Quite easily if there’s a jammer in the vicinity,” Dean explains and flashes his headlights in a sequence to the car in front and they indicate to pull over on the hard shoulder. “Wait here,” Dean instructs, jumping out of the car. My eyes admire him as he walks away, feasting on those strong and burly muscles as he moves. The broadness of his back has the material of his jacket stretching around his shoulders.

Pain throbs at my temples, and I massage them in a desperate attempt to ease the tension. Through half-closed eyes, I watch Dean step out of the car and approach the driver's side of the vehicle in front of us. He points to our own car, clearly indicating that we have lost communication.

Just as I start to wonder what he's saying, a voice crackles through the radio, making me jump. It's Base Command, trying to reach us. I give the device a dirty look before rolling down the window.

“Dean, they're calling for you. The comms are working,” I shout over the noise of the engine. He nods in acknowledgment but continues talking to the other driver. How much longer until wereach this elusive base? We've been driving for hours, and with every passing minute, my anxiety grows stronger. All I want is to hold my baby boy again. I miss him so much.

Finally, Dean lumbers back to the car and we continue on our seemingly endless journey, now that the communication is back online. My stomach grumbles in protest as I realize how long it has been since our last meal. As much as I hate to admit it, Dean was right, if I hadn't been caught sneaking into the trunk earlier, I may have suffocated back there. The cramped space and lack of air had been unbearable, but my stubbornness and determination to not be left behind had clouded my judgment.

In hindsight, it was a foolish idea, and I pray that the Air Force won't reprimand me for compromising the mission. The thought of facing consequences for my actions makes my heart race and palms sweat. After all, with my fiery temperament and inability to follow orders, I would surely not fare well in prison.

“JJ,please, I am begging you, stay put this time and try to stay out of trouble, all right?” Dean says, taking both my hands into his, those endless green eyes soft and pleading.

“I will,” I vow giving his hand a gentle squeeze. I’m fighting with all my might to keep my tears at bay. I need him to stay focussed so he can save our son and come back home in one piece “And you better not go and die on me, you hear? I’ll be waiting right here for you to come back home.”

Dean nods and leans in to brush a kiss to my lips. “I will.” My hands caress his cheeks and I kiss him back. “Go be brave, Captain.” Dean smiles lovingly and kisses me once more before he steps away from me, taking his scent and his warmth with him.

“I’m crazy about you, baby.”

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I gaze at Dean, my heart overflowing with emotion. “I'm crazy about you,” I confess, my voice filled with longing and love. Dean gives my hand one final squeeze, the warmth of his touch sending warm shivers down my spine, before my fingers reluctantly slip out of his as he walks away. I watch him as he disappears into the plane joining his squadron that are waiting inside. I watch as the plane inches onto the runway and takes off. As it disappears, the weight of his absence settles in my chest, and I’m choking on the lump that is clogging up my throat, a bittersweet ache that reminds me of just how crazy I am about him.

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