**Dreams of Kabul**

Prompt: Gunsmith cats fanfiction rally has the same nightmare for the third night in a row in the dream she’s walking through Kabul when she was a marine in Afghanistan when she sees a young boy after a few nights of this rally realizes who the boy represents the baby boy her son Joe who she had when she was a senior in high school who she had left with her mom while on deployment

Rally Vincent jolted awake, her heart pounding like a drum in the stillness of her modest apartment. Night after night, the same dream haunted her—a dark echo from her past that, despite her best efforts, she couldn't silence. In her dream, she walked the dusty streets of Kabul, the ground hot beneath her combat boots, the air heavy with the scent of dust and smoke. Surrounding her were crumbling buildings and the chilling whispers of a war-torn land. As a former Marine, she had been trained to face the horrors of battle, but this dream was different. It wasn't filled with the chaos of gunfire or the cries of the wounded; it was vivid and hauntingly personal. Each night, Rally wandered those streets in search of something she couldn’t quite grasp. But on the third night, she stopped in front of a small alleyway. A flicker of movement caught her attention, and she turned to find a young boy, maybe six or seven, staring at her with wide, frightened eyes. He was covered in dirt, and his clothes were ragged—shadows of a child left to navigate a world that was far too cruel for him. But she knew him. Recognition slammed into her, making her chest tighten like a vice. The boy was a familiar figure amid the chaos, an embodiment of a profound loss—a ghost from a life she had chosen to leave behind. He was Joe. Her Joe. The baby boy she had held in her arms on the last day of high school before shipping off to serve her country. Her heart ached with a blend of regret and longing. When she had enlisted, she had thought it was the right choice. An escape. An opportunity to forge her identity beyond being a scared teenager and a mother. But as she stood there, in the desolate streets of Afghanistan, facing the specter of her past, she was reminded of the price she had paid. The choice she had made. Her heart pounded louder as clarity washed over her: Joe was not just a figment of her imagination; he was a representation of everything she had left behind. “Mom?” the boy asked, his thin voice cutting through the haze of dream reality. Rally knelt before him, her hands trembling as she brushed a piece of hair from his forehead—a gesture so familiar, so achingly sweet. “I’m here, kiddo. I’m so sorry…” Tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision. “Where were you?” he asked, his face a mask of confusion and hurt. “Why did you leave?” The question felt like a dagger through her chest. Rally opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. She wanted to tell him that she was fighting for their future, that she thought it would make everything better, that she didn’t know then what she knew now—the weight of her choices and the pain of absence. But the moment lingered, heavy and suffocating, and the dream began to warp, the street dissolving into a different landscape, the boy fading into shadows. “No!” Rally cried, reaching for him. “I’m not leaving you! Please don’t go!” And just like that, she was jerked awake again, her sheets damp with perspiration, her breathing ragged. Rally lay in bed, the silence of the room enveloping her like a thick fog. The dreams were no longer just dreams; they were a call to confront her reality, to reconcile with a life she had built and the family she had abandoned. The days dragged on, each waking moment spent wrestling with the images that haunted her nights. The dream had shifted something in her, a stark reminder of the sacrifices and choices that had defined her life. She poured herself into the work at her gunsmith shop, focusing on the mechanics of firearms, the thrill of crafting something lethal yet beautiful. It kept her grounded, but it didn’t quiet the storm inside. Finally, on the fourth night, Rally decided she would face the dream. If Joe was a manifestation, if he represented the parts of her life she had lost, perhaps she could reclaim him, at least in this dreamscape. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to come, determined to meet that little boy again. When she found herself back in Kabul, the setting was familiar, but this time Rally felt a sense of empowerment coursing through her. She moved deliberately through the streets, searching for him, focused and driven. “Joe! Where are you?” The air was charged with tension, but she pushed past it, down alleyways and through small market squares until she heard it: the soft sound of giggling. She turned a corner and found him standing by a dilapidated wall, staring at a stray dog that wagged its tail, pleading for scraps. “Mom!” he shouted, his face lighting up at the sight of her. Rally rushed forward, kneeling down, pulling the little boy into her arms. “I’m right here,” she whispered, fighting back tears. “I won’t leave you.” “But you always do,” he replied, pulling back slightly to see her face. “You disappear, and I’m scared.” Rally’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m sorry, Joe. I … I didn’t know how to be both. I thought I had to be strong and that you’d be okay with Grandma." “I’m not okay,” he admitted, eyes brimming with tears. “I know, sweetie. I should have been there. I want to be there now.” The words poured out of her, a flood of truth and sadness, but the boy didn’t pull away. He looked up at her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Can I come with you?” “Yes! Yes, you can. I’m here now. We’ll figure it out together,” she promised, her heart swelling with a dawning realization. In that moment, her fear seemed to ebb away as she held her son tightly, the distance between them closing with each heartbeat. As the dream faded into the dawn light, Rally awoke with a sense of peace wrapping around her like a warm blanket. The visions of Kabul would no longer haunt her; they had become a bridge to understanding—a call to reclaim her past and embrace the future, no matter how complicated it may be. And though she didn’t have all the answers, she knew from that moment on, every choice she made would guide her back to Joe.