Greatest Fear by Jilly

My greatest fear always used to be that I wouldn't finish my missions. That I would die trying to save another person's life. Or even worse, that I would die before I saved that person's life. And even worse, that the person I was trying to save died before I got to them, and I had to live knowing that if I had only been faster, if I had only been more observant. If I had done my job properly, that person would still be alive.

Throughout my life, each fear I thought was my greatest was a mere shadow of another that would cover me for a time. It would cover me, then release me into the light for a time before I stepped into a another shadow.

That was my thought as I married Cerella. I stepped into the light. The shadow over my head before our wedding was that I wasn't going to be a good enough husband. I am a Navy SEAL. I put my life on the line day in and day out, and for what? How could I continue doing this job and possibly leave her a widow? That and so many other questions ran through my head, right till the moment of truth. Right until they opened the doors in the church and there she stood, as beautiful as the most wonderous sunset in the universe. Her eyes out shone the stars at night, twinkling as they did, but more. Her hair was a golden halo around her head. It was more golden then the rays of the sun. I had always thought so. She was absolutely radiant. I remember how my chest and puffed up a bit when I realized that this beautiful, kind woman could have married any other man, but she had chosen me as much as I had chosen her, if not more so. My fears vanished, and I said my vows with more assurance in my self then I had ever felt.

When Cerella came to me and told me she was pregnant, I felt the cold hand of fate clench my heart. A mission had been assigned to me that morning. Rescue a group of tourists taken prisoner on Alcatraz. I had a bad feeling that I wasn't going to make it. Cerella cried when I told her my fears. She ran to our bedroom and locked herself inside. I had leaned my head against the door, fighting my own tears. I caressed the door with my hand, wishing with everything I was that it was Cerella I was caressing, not the hard wood. I took a deep shuddering breath and stepped back from it. I told her I loved her and made my way down the stairs, and out to my car. I hated leaving her like that, but I didn't know what else to do. My job called.

The pain wasn't as excrutiating as I thought it would be. I thought when I died it would be my greatest fear. The fear I had started with when I went on every mission had returned with this one, and it seemed to be coming true. But I thought it was going to be more painful then what it was. I remember feeling like I was falling, then blackness. I was sure I was dead. Then I woke up two weeks later in the hospital. Cerella was by my side, her head on the edge of the bed, her hand curled around mine. I saw tracks on her cheeks from thousands of tears. I remember being able to lift my hand and caress her hair softly, waking her. And she smiled at me. I knew that the pain I was feeling was worth it just to see that smile again.

Once I was released, things were wonderful for us. We waited for our baby's birth, and my greatest fear came from my psyche as to whether I was going to be a good father or not. I didn't know the pain Cerella was going through with the baby. She never told me. Then it happened. "Charles, it's time," she told me. I was up faster then any man could be, and grabbing everything we needed. I escorted her out to the car, and we drove to the hospital.

I knew something was going terribly wrong when they wouldn't let me go with her. I remember sitting down in the waiting room, and for the first time since my childhood, I prayed. I prayed for my wife, and my child. My wife more though. I realized I could endure the pain of losing a child, as long as Cerella was by my side. With her, I could endure anything. I learned that.

I got to my feet when the doctor came out of the room, his eyes darting, looking for me. I walked over. I knew I had lost someone, or something had gone wrong when I saw his face.

The doctor had shook my hand looking sad. "You have two beautiful daughters, Commander. Congratulations," he had said.

I smiled. Two daughters. I bet they would eventually look like their mother. "What about Cerella?" I had asked.

The doctor had glanced down, then looked at me. "I'm sorry, Commander. Your wife had an anneurism. She didn't survive the birth. We almost lost your youngest daughter when we lost your wife," he said.

I went completely numb. My Cerella? The woman most important to me was gone? No, he had to be wrong. But one look at his face had told me he wasn't wrong. And I felt the largest shadow I had ever dealt with slide over me.

The doctor led me to my wife and I kissed her forehead gently. I wished she could feel me, but I know she could see me in heaven. I said goodbye, kissed her once again and rose to my feet. I did the most painful thing I ever could have done. I turned away from her and never looked back.

I had named the twins Zoe and Eve. Cerella had told me they both meant life. Cerella never was able to choose between the two, but a part of me thinks that she knew she was having twins. That's why she couldn't decide. The doctor wanted Zoe and Eve to stay in the hospital a couple days longer, merely because Zoe had a harder time and they almost lost her when Cerella had died. I wanted to make sure that she was going to be okay. Eve as well.

When they came home, the greatest fear I ever had came to life like a roaring fire that was given a pure oxygen supply. There was no possible way I was going to be able to be a good father to those little girls. To my little girls. I put the twins to bed, and curled onto the bed Cerella and I had shared even before we had married, and I cried myself to sleep.

Cerella must have visited me in my dreams that night. I woke up feeling a new sense of comfort that I could raised the girls by myself. Each step I took was a renewed confidence in my actions.

It's been five years since that last fear hit me, and it still gets to me every once in a while, but each time I start to doubt myself, I see Cerella in my mind and I know I can do it. I also just look at my two beautiful daughters. Zoe and her love for dolls and dressing up, and Eve's tomboy ways, always wanting to get dirty. In both of them I see my Cerella. And they give me purpose to keep going on. And everytime they smile I see her smile, and can still hear her in my head. The soft voice that caressed her words like a lover's touch as she spoke to me. "I love you, Charles." That's what I remember hearing, and even if I ever fall in love again, I will hear it till the day I die. And those same words help to chase away the greatest fear of all.

Loneliness.

THE END