By the time he was done there was a fine sheen of sweat across his body and his t-shirt was draped across his bare shoulders.  There were scars laced liberally across his skin, but the one on his right side definitely drew the eye far more than the others.  It still ached sometimes, when it was cold or when he lifted something he probably shouldn’t.  It was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life, and something that he was more than a little afraid to share with people.  It was his one insecurity, and for a man who had always been able to land any woman he desired that was saying something.<br/><br/>He trudged up to the house, barely kicking up any sand with his sandals, his head down as he contemplated something.  It showed on his face, the dark thoughts that still remained from the nightmares.  Things that he couldn’t ever run away from no matter how hard he tried.  Not that he realized how much of an open book he was as he came within sight of the house.<br/><br/>He needed a shower and then breakfast.  Perhaps food would help chase the last of the death from his mind’s eye.  He could hope that it would work.  He always hoped, even if it would be the first time he’d managed to chase the demons away.<br/>