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Chapter Text

Roe trudged through the freezing snow, shivering as he tried to keep a strong expression on his face. The others were already worried, but they didn’t need to know that the man trying to save their lives is also anxious.

He heard the chattering of teeth nearby and whipped around, squinting his eyes as he saw a darker figure in the white snow. He slowly crept closer and realized it was his captain sitting atop his foxhole, breaking up a bin of ice.

Roe watched silently as Captain Winters shaved his face. While they were in the freezing cold, trying to desperately survive with not enough supplies and no cold weather clothes, Winters was still holding up the grooming standards.

Better than Nixon, who never cared to shave even for the pope. At least it was better than their old captain, Sobel, who looked as though he never even had stubble on his face.

Thinking of Sobel sent a shiver down the medic’s spine, and not just because it was freezing in Bastogne.

Winters noticed Roe and was about to say something when they heard a distant twig snap. Roe quickly ducked and Winters glanced over his shoulder, grabbing his rifle before motioning for Roe to follow him as they tiptoed through the forest.

They saw someone running towards them and Winters shut one eye, aiming to fire. The man quickly put up his hands, slowing to a stop as he saw the rifle pointed at his head.

He said something in German and Winters glanced at Roe before they started searching his pockets.

-

Getting back to their foxholes, Winters was explaining the situation to Nixon, who was still barely awake. Roe was starting to walk away to see how the men were feeling.

“Roe.”

The medic turned around and saw Captain Winters nodding to him.

“Sir.” Roe nodded and walked over, kneeling down in front of him.

“How are supplies going?” Winters asked, knowing they were struggling a lot. They were sent here with barely anything, and Roe was trying to find scraps to form some sort of first aid kit.

Morphine, wraps, and even scissors were hard to find. “It’s not perfect, sir, but I think it can get me through the first battle. If I ever get a chance to go back to town, I have a list of things to ask for from the medic station they have going on. Right now I’m gonna try and grab some extra things from the men and take care of them in case any of them have frostbite.”

“Alright, well that’s good enough.” Winters sighed. “Hang tough.”

“Yes sir.” Roe nodded and stood up, marching through the ice and snow. As he checked on people in their foxholes, he noticed the same thing with all of them.

Guarnere, who was always cracking jokes, was quieter without Toye. He was starting to grow a tangled beard and mustache, and his jokes surrounded their new Lieutenant who had to lead them.

“Hey, Guarnere, have you seen Babe?” Roe asked him when Guarnere was making fun of Dike with Compton.

“Think he’s over there with Spina.”

“Right, thanks.” Roe waved over his shoulder and stayed low to the ground as he ran over to the other foxhole.

Before he could peek under the blanket they had covering the hole, they heard a loud gunshot followed by,

“MEDIC!”

Roe forgot all about his other medic and Babe and slipped on the snow as he ran as quickly as he could to the commotion. He gripped his bag tightly, trying to remember how much morphine he had.

The thoughts were as scattered as his feet as he tried to dodge and weave through foxholes and trees.

He arrived to see men surrounded by Hoobler, who was crying out in pain. He barely looked like himself when they first started. The man who was grinning from ear to ear with a babyface now had a huge beard covering his face, and all that joy was replaced with horror.

The horror as death began to grip him and pull him down.

Chapter Text

Some nights I still wake up hearing a baby crying. The broken sobs after having its family destroyed in front of it. The lonely tears falling as they were the only surviver. The cracking voice that tried to tell someone, anyone, that they were still there.

The memories flash in my mind like a song I can’t get out of my head. But this wasn’t even close to catchy.

The image of the dying woman in my arms continues to haunt me at night because I know that I am the monster that destroyed their home. I had killed hundreds of Japanese soldiers, treating them the same way I had seen them treat us.

It didn’t make me feel good, nor was I completely satisfied. I did it because I felt as though I had to. For what? At the moment, for my life. But in the grand scheme of things, I can only assume it was to avoid the Japanese having complete control over the world.

I did not have to join the military, and at first I shouldn’t’ve been able to. But I joined on my own terms in hopes to prove myself with my best friend by my side.

I went there feeling prideful about how we would be fighting for our country, but I left feeling lost, confused, and haunted by the many people I killed.

The ending of the war felt so sudden. One minute I was planning on taking another island, the next it was announced that we had won because we dropped a bomb over Japan.

It was over to everyone at home, but to us we were still fighting on the inside. I could never fully forget what I had done, and I didn’t know if it was truly necessary.

-

Sledge awoke the next morning after barely getting any sleep, and he trudged out of bed. He opened his closet and saw his freshly ironed uniform. The badges were pinned on it, each one set there with a purpose.

While it was his dress uniform and not his normal one, he still felt the same amount of anguish towards it. The soft cloth that was weaved together in America and nowhere else did not fill him with pride.

The thought of even wearing such a thing made him feel terrible. People did not need to know what he went through, and he did not need to remember it even more than he already did.

While the future was uncertain, one thing was clear to him…

He would never want to look in the mirror and see himself wearing that uniform.

Chapter Text

Wearing this on my sleeve was like an achievement. It gave us power. We wore it to present glory for our country.

It also represented hatred and only tore us apart. I hated wearing it.

The worst part of it?

Thomas was blind to it all.

“Nazi by day, swing kid by night!” He had said.

He had lied.

He can’t think clearly. All the propaganda that’s been thrown to our faces has successfully brainwashed someone I thought was my friend. Someone who had always been there for me. Someone who would dance with me while we goofed off in the night.

That friend also convinced our other friend to kill himself. And he felt no guilt for it. None whatsoever. When he came over to talk to me about it, all he told me was to get over it.

“He was a cripple! He had his mind all backwards because of the music he’s been playing!” Thomas shouted at me.

I couldn’t stop the anger bubbling up inside of me. We used to love that music. Just a few weeks earlier he was taunting one of those Nazi dicks by singing a song. “It don’t mean a thing…if it ain’t got that swing! Bada bada bada bada badaaaa”

And now?

He saw me as the dick for singing that same song.

The biggest difference between us was that he wasn’t able to see things literally. He didn’t know what I knew. He didn’t see what I saw.

I used to be a delivery man for a book keeper, and it turns out he’s been helping people escape the country by hiding fake birth certificates in the books. I never reported him. The people wanted to get out, and I never blamed them…

Then I became a delivery man for the Nazis. They told me to be proud of the mission they were giving me and handed me three wrapped packages to give to the names without questioning it.

I did as they said, not wanting to get in any trouble or have my cover blown.

I wish I never delivered them.

Do you want to know what this woman asked me when I gave her a package?

She asked me when her husband was coming home. She asked me if he was okay. She asked me if she would see him again.

I told her to take the package and her daughter, barely even six, stuck out her arm and said “Heil Hitler.”

I simply nodded and left, feeling a shiver sent down my spine. And then I heard a shriek come from the house as the woman screamed. She screamed as though her heart had been torn out of her heart by the devil himself.

Do you want to know what I had given that nice woman?

I gave her the thing she wanted. Her husband.

…in the form of ashes.

Ever since that day, I could never be okay with wearing this on my sleeve. I don’t care what torment I went through, what work camp I was sent to; I couldn’t keep acting anymore.

Not when my best friend hated me.

Not when my friend killed himself.

Not when I was supporting all of this torture.

-

“Peter!”

I lifted my gaze as I heard Thomas say my name. Despite all the screaming and shouting, I could hear him clearly. He was shaking, his bottom lip trembling as he saw me get shoved onto the truck hauling a bunch of swing kids away.

I smiled and stood up, sticking out my arm.

“Swing Heil!”

Thomas began to cry and he nodded, returning the salute.

“SWING HEIL!”

I smiled as we continued chanting that, the others around us chanting it as well. This was the real crown that belonged to us.

The crown of freedom.

Chapter Text

Ronald Speirs.

We all knew him, but no one ever truly understood him. With rumors of him flying left and right, he grew to be a man of mystery.

“I heard he offered each prisoner a cigarette- a Lucky Strike, even! - before killing all but one.”

Whether or not you believed the rumors varied among the men. But each rumor grew more and more chaotic.

“I heard he shot 20 POWs- “

“And apparently he shot his own men for being drunk.”

Many of the replacements were told stories about Speirs, and they learned to never accept a cigarette off of him.

“Anyone care for a smoke?”

“Um- I don’t smoke, s-sir.”

His reputation as a war criminal was infamous throughout the company, and he was a strong leader by using fear to his advantage.

However, he helped us when taking Foy, and ever since then I felt as though we had a deeper understanding.

“You want to ask me, don’t you? You want to know if they’re true or not…the stories about me.”

Perhaps understanding isn’t the right word, but I believe I am the first man to form a connection with him throughout this whole war. A connection that wasn’t filled with fear.

-

I coughed into my fist after answering Jones’ and Webster’s questions, and Luz walked over to hand me another blanket.

“What’s wrong with him?” Webster asked, confused at my sickly state.

“He got pneumonia.” Luz explained, his voice a bit muffled because of the cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“Are you going to be okay?” “Harvard” questioned.

“What are you talking about? He’s got a blanket, a nice couch, he’s snug as a bug.” Luz patted my shoulder and I nodded to him in thanks before grabbing my mug.

I lowered it when I heard the door slam shut and Speirs came storming in, carrying more things he had stolen from houses nearby. He had been stealing many things (not like the other men weren’t) and mailing them to his family.

“Sir, this is Lieutenant Jones and- “

“Oh Jesus Christ, there’s a warm bed just in the back with some fresh sheets, will you go sack out?” Speirs snapped it as though it wasn’t a request.

“Yes, sir.” I waved him down but was already too exhausted to move. Webster looked a bit surprised at what Speirs had said because I knew it was the first time we had ever heard Speirs yell at someone to take care of themselves.

Despite Speirs’ rough exterior, I know he cared deeply about getting things right and making sure there were no unnecessary deaths or injuries. Including the harm I was experiencing with my illness.

Chapter Text

Deer in headlights.

That’s how we described most of the replacements. They were green as hell, and often died first.

We couldn’t explain why. Some spent nights sobbing in their foxholes and we’d have to shut them up while others would stand there in shock at what they were seeing. Some were able to stay quiet and put on a strong face, but not always.

It was hard to keep it in front of the others, so that’s why the leaders had to set a good example. If we ever broke for even a second, the whole thing could fall apart.

-

“Will someone shut that man up?!” A sergeant shouted and I lifted my head, gazing a bit away where the other men were trying to hold down a soldier. He was crying for his mama, but his sobs would alarm the Japanese of our location.

“Jesus, be quiet!!” The sergeant snapped and stood up, marching over. I shut my eyes tightly as I heard a gasp for air before silence. Someone panted and you could hear him removing a bayonet.

I winced and kept my hands on my rifle, trying to fall back asleep.

“Damn replacements.” The sergeant muttered, slumping in his foxhole.

-

“You never told me it was like that.” Buck slowly lifted his gaze towards John.

John sighed, glancing down. He knew he had to tell him what the missions were really like, but how was he supposed to say it?

“I didn’t know how...”

Buck nodded and sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

Bucky sat down next to him, folding his hands over his knees. “Was it that bad?”

“What do you think?” Gale tried to smile but he was bitter towards Bucky.

“I have to get you to the interrogation, Gale.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath before glancing at his coat, which had some blood stained on the sheep’s wool. “Come on.” He stood up and slid out of the plane.

-

The men were shivering together, glancing around at their brothers. The ones who used to be so bright eyed and happy were now fogged with gray and scraggly beards covered their smiles.

“Mind if I join you.” Winters said more as a statement rather than a question. He sat down with the other men and sighed, shivering.

Some were replacements, others were men he had known since Toccoa. He was a strong leader, yes, but was it enough to make sure they would all come home? Especially when Colonel Sink said this would all be over by Christmas.

Julian and Babe were sitting together, and Winters watched the two replacements. Babe was now considered a veteran for surviving the failed plan Market Gardens, but he had a scar across his heart.

Everyone tried to cover it up in their own way, they tried to stay away from replacements, but in times like these it was hard to ignore each other.

Let’s hope we can all get through this.

Chapter Text

I tried to smile as the Medal of Honor was put around my neck. I felt as though it was weighing me down, the giant medal piercing through my heart and forever making a mark.

This was supposed to be my moment of celebration, but it was given to me for all the wrong reasons.

“This Medal of Honor is bestowed to Basilone for his showing of extraordinary heroism during the Battle of Guadalcanal.”

I couldn’t save my best friend.

“He fought with courage and leadership to repel Japanese assaults for three days.”

You didn’t see those bodies pile up like I did.

“He single-handedly manned his machine gun, repaired and reloaded weapons under heavy fire, and battled his way through enemy lines to resupply his men.”

I ran through the forest and watched a Jap stab my friend through the heart.

I made it back with ammo with my friend’s blood covered in my face.

Some hero I make. I couldn’t save every one of my men, and now I’m leaving all of them to go back to the states.

I don’t deserve this.

-

Back at the states was the worst time of my life. I loved my family, don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t right for me to sit and have a full belly while everyone else I knew was starving in unknown territory.

I was given pins, medals, free drinks at the bar all for what I did.

What exactly did I do?

I was a hero?

Heroes do everything correctly. They can save the world with a snap of their fingers. I can’t do that.

Everyone claps and cheers for me, thinking I did extraordinary things to save the world.

Do you want to know what I did?

I took another human’s life.

I murdered people in broad moonlight.

And everyone still smiles.

They do not understand war. They do not understand what it does to you. They do not understand the circumstances you are under as you are trying to desperately live another day and not die.

As you pray to God or any being up there to keep you alive. To keep you breathing. To keep you functioning. They don’t understand that desperate state you are put in where you are okay to kill someone just so you can survive.

No one here can truly understand.

And that is why I cannot accept this “medal.”

All it does is weigh me down and remind me of everything I went through. And it makes me realize just how much I don’t belong here.

I need to get back there.

Chapter Text

Stay balanced.

Stay focused.

Stay strong.

You can’t break; not when the men need you.

But when I saw them…

“NOO-!” I ran up to them, dropping my helmet to the ground. My lip trembled as I shouted for a medic.”

I couldn’t do it anymore. Those two sons of bitches saved my life in Holland even when I told them space to put them on stretches.

Everything felt heavy and I collapsed onto a fallen tree, putting my face in my hands as I shivered (not just from tears).

“Sure thing, Sarge. Nothin’ stupid.”

I lifted my head as I heard the snow crinkle in front of me. Lipton kneeled down and sighed, not knowing how to start. As Jackson drove Guarnere and Toye off the line, Lipton patted my shoulder.

“Come on, Buck. You should step off the line too.” He told me in a soft tone. Lipton was always looking after the men. As much as I hated the thought of leaving the men (and with Dike of all people) I couldn’t keep going.

-

“Hey, Buck.”

I shifted in the bed in the aid station and Malarkey offered me a weak smile, sitting on the chair next to my cot.

I lifted my hand from my chest in a short wave.

“How are you feeling?” He clasped his hands together on his lap.

“Okay.” I sighed, sitting up.

“That’s good…” He nodded, not knowing how to continue this lackluster conversation.

“How are the men?” I asked. While I wasn’t worrying about my trip back home, I was worried about the others.

“Ah you know,” he shrugged, “we’re freezin’ our asses off while the trees are exploding around us. Doesn’t get much better than that!”

“Amen.” I chuckled.

The redhead smiled at me as he was able to make me smile.

“So how are you living with Foxhole Norman?” I reached over to my bedside table where there was a pack of cigarettes someone gave me.

Malarkey snorted. “I doubt we’ll make it far with him in charge. Honestly, I think everyone’s hope was in you.” He took a cigarette from the box and used his lighter.

“That’s…reassuring.” I mumbled, borrowing his lighter for a second.

“Oh come on, you know I don’t mean it like that. I’m tryin’ to compliment you. Say that you were one of the best leaders we had since Winters got promoted.”

I grinned and Malarkey elbowed me.

“Ahh, there he is.”

I laughed and batted his hands away. “Stop it, will you? You guys will be fine, you’ll get through it. You’re tough as nails.”

Malarkey’s smile fell a bit but he quickly changed the subject.

“What about you? Planning on being that big baseball star you dreamed of?” He asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Mmm…maybe. Haven’t thought much about it.” I lied, folding my arms over my chest.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow, not buying my excuse. “You’re telling me that while you can do nothing but think, you’ve done anything but that?”

I smiled weakly and shrugged, taking my cigarette out of my mouth. “I haven’t planned that far ahead, alright? I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I get back.”

Malarkey nodded, his amusing tone disappearing.

“It’s gonna be different without you.” He said after a minute, making me look up in surprise.

“I’m sure it won’t be that different.”

He shrugged and sighed, not saying anything more.

-

“Buck!”

My grip on the jeep loosened as I heard someone call out my name. I stepped off and turned around to see Malarkey.

I felt my throat grow tight as the sentiment of him seeing me before I left sank in.

“Hey, Malark.” I chuckled, smiling.

Malarky smiled awkwardly before finally speaking. “Don’t be a stranger, alright? I’ll wanna be seeing you when I return after the war.”

I nodded and he stood at attention before saluting me. I felt tears form in my eyes as I returned the gesture, giving him all the respect I felt for him.

Chapter Text

“Colonel Mackenzie? He’s further down there.”

It didn’t matter how far I’d come, because I still wasn’t there.

I heard the officers start shouting and I knew that I was too late.

I didn’t make it.

I felt my legs tremble as I realized I had failed.

Soldiers began running to attack, and I felt hopeless.

I put my hand in my pocket and felt a ring. Thomas had asked me to give it to his brother. The brother he tried so hard to save that he died for him.

I could never understand that kind of bond with someone in your family, but I know that I couldn’t let Thomas die for nothing. Blinking away my tears, I tried to reassess my surroundings and focus.

I couldn’t give up. Thomas never gave up on a fool like me.

I approached the edge of the trench, ignoring the officer who was screaming at me, saying I was insane.

I wanted to look back at him and shout that he was insane for doing this, but I couldn’t focus on him right now. I had to focus on getting to Colonel Mackenzie.

I took a deep breath before I pushed myself over the trench, running across the open field. People were shouting, but continued their mission as told. Soldiers ran past me, some ran into me, but I ignored them.

“Why did they only send one of you?”

I felt my bottom lip shake but I kept pushing through. The ground shook as an explosive went off, and I stumbled. The exhaustion was catching up to me, but I pushed up and continued to run.

I didn’t care what they thought of me, I didn’t even care if I was going to die. I had to try. I had to give it everything Thomas and I had.

The third wave of men was running out, whistles blowing as orders were being shouted.

“They didn’t…”

Knowing that I was doing this for Thomas filled me with determination. I was so close, I knew I was. As I heard men scream for a medic, I started to feel my fear creep up to a thousand percent.

There was a high chance that Joseph was already out on the battlefield, and that he was most likely hit if not killed. I tried to ignore that voice in my head and say that Joseph was just a good a soldier as Thomas.

Another voice began to speak again, however.

“There were two of us…”

As more tears began to form in my eyes, I saw the small base the men had built for Colonel Mackenzie and a few other officers to speak about plans for the upcoming missions.

I had finally made it.

-

Sitting by the tree, I shut my eyes and finally had some time to think about everything that had happened. I slowly reopened them to see the cherry blossoms blowing through the air.

The wind carried them as if they were gentle fairies coming to congratulate me on making it.

I felt a faint smile form on my face as I remembered what Thomas had said about blossoms. He seemed to love them.

A petal fell in my hair and I gently pulled it from my tangled nest. Holding it in the palm of my hand, I thought about the memories I had with Thomas.

I held it close and whispered a prayer, hoping that eventually I will one day see him again. Finishing the prayer, I let the petal carry on its journey through the world, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

A weight felt lifted from my shoulders as I glanced around at all the men who had lived because the mission was called off.

It had mattered how far we’d come, because one Blake was still here.

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Babe turned towards the medic who was wrapping his hand in a blue scarf, “you called me Babe.”

Roe thought about it before smiling. “I did…huh.”

“Babe.” Heffron repeated in a low voice, teasing Roe. The medic chuckled and tied the blue cloth, letting go of Babe’s shaking hand.

The warmth that once filled him disappeared, but his heart was still beating against his chest as he felt the soldier’s gaze.

“How are you doing?” Roe asked, noticing how Babe seemed to be doing better.

“Well…I’m here.” He tried to laugh but his smile fell. It grew silent between the two and the only thing heard was their quivering breaths.

“I shoulda saved him.” Babe sighed through his teeth, his hands clutching onto his arms.

“Martin said there was heavy fire, you couldn’t’ve.” Roe put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort the ginger. He knew the situation they were under, as he had also tried to help them, but there was no way they could’ve grabbed Julian safely.

Having the chance to save one life would’ve cost at least two or three.

“I should’ve saved him!!” Babe snapped, his glare soon softening as he looked at the man beside him. Babe huffed, his breath appearing in front of him. “I was supposed to save him.”

“If anything, I was supposed to. I’m the medic after all.” Roe gestured to the Red Cross band on his arm.

Babe frowned, licking his dry lips. “We had a pact.”

“What?”

“Julian, Henderson, and I had a pact. If one of us died we promised that we’d grab his stuff and send it to his family. Rings, dog tags, the usual.” Babe gestured into the air and shook his head, taking his hand and running it through his tangled hair.

“You can ask Winters if you can write to his parents. I’m sure he’d let you.” Roe assured him, knowing that the moral of the men couldn’t get too low.

Heffron folded his arms over his chest. “You don’t understand.”

Roe bit his lip but had no other words to comfort him. He put his hands on the snow, about to push himself out of the foxhole.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Babe suddenly said. Roe paused and turned around, sliding back down next to him.

“What do you mean?” The shorter male tilted his head.

“You have to watch your friends die and try and save their life.” The Pennsylvanian said, “I don’t get how you can do that every day.”

“Well…I had some help.” Roe’s voice trailed off as he blinked away the tears and memories, not wanting to think about Renee.

“I guess so.” Babe shrugged, “Still, it’s brave of you to do it. Try and save us all and make sure we see another day. If I were in your shoes I would’ve broken down ages ago from all the guilt if I couldn’t help them.”

Roe nodded and he put his hands on his knees. “I try not to get too close to you guys. That’s how I do it.”

Babe lifted his head, frowning. Roe shrugged and picked himself up, starting to walk away.

“Roe.”

He glanced over his shoulder, and Babe smiled.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

Normally when someone took a hit, there would be something left. Limbs, items, anything.

But in this case, they just disappeared…

There was nothing left besides broken memories.

Luz was shaken up by the whole thing; told us they were trying to get him to take cover in their foxhole but he went to Lipton’s instead.

Apparently a mortar also hit theirs, but it was a dud. The one that went off instead blew up Muck and Penkala.

Luz didn’t talk long about what he saw, and none of us pushed him to either. Roe walked up behind me to see what was going on, asking us if we were okay or needed anything.

When I recounted what Luz had told me, Roe’s face fell. He and Lipton checked around a bit to try and find anything. I helped as well, but I was mostly thinking of all the men we had lost so far.

Out of all of them, Muck and Penkala were the last ones I would’ve expected to get killed. They were strong soldiers, the two of them, and I was good friends with both of them.

Of course, not as close as Malarkey was. Roe left to tell him the news, and I followed to try and tell others around Malarkey’s foxhole.

While talking with Guarnere, I overheard Roe’s conversation.

“Do you want to see it?” Roe asked, putting a hand on Malarkey’s shoulder.

Malarkey shook his head, biting his lip as he tried not to break down.

“No…” his voice wavered, “no, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that.”

Roe slowly nodded and patted his shoulder again, not knowing what to say. I glanced at Guarnere, who frowned deeply.

“Those damn krauts.” He huffed, folding his arms over his chest.

We were all tired of the constant shelling. It wasn’t easy to have the Fourth of July every other hour.

We had lost too many men, many of which were close friends. We all had to deal with it in our own way, but most of us went with the basic.

Forget about it.

-

Everyone was surprised to see Webster back from the hospital, but no one was as surprised as Liebgott.

They had a bit of an argument earlier in the day, and it ended unresolved. We were now sitting on our shared bunks, watching as Webster awkwardly unpacked.

“Sir, there’s a patrol ordered for later tonight.” The replacement told Malarkey.

As they were talking, we all crowded around Webster, questioning him about what was going on.

“I’m not supposed to say.” Webster glared at all of us, but we continued to push.

“Okay!” He finally cracked, “But you can’t tell anyone you got it from me.”

“Cross my heart.” Liebgott said into his mug.

Webster sighed and told us who was going. I cursed under my breath as my name was mentioned. I ignored the others as they started whining and I turned my attention to Malarkey, who was chatting with the replacement.

“We dodged some mortars on our way here.” The green soldier said, puffing out his chest a bit.

I rolled my eyes and Malarkey simply hummed, nodding. I frowned as I saw my friend’s expression. He seems so tired now, so out of it.

Despite our past few missions being a success, we had to make many sacrifices. It was clear that his two best friends dying took a bigger tole on him than I first thought.

We all buried our feelings of grief, but this war was still ongoing and no one knew when it would end. Having to keep going when we were all so exhausted left us feeling hopeless.

And now with this new graduate being a Lieutenant…it was hard for us to confident.

At least Guarnere is home. I thought, knowing that the second this war ended I would go visit him.

“Alright guys, I have some bad news.” Malarkey said to all of us, and I snapped out of my thoughts.

All the doubts we had about this upcoming mission had to be swept away so we could focus on doing the best we could.

That way, we’d all see tomorrow.

Chapter Text

On the flight to our base in England, I had a fun time getting to know the others. We loved talking about our sweethearts and families back home.

It was a comfortable group, and I knew I was surrounded by some of the smartest men around. Making it into the Air Core is no easy feat, and it showed your mental and physical strength.

As we got closer to our destination, I felt my ears start to burn. I took a breath and assumed a headache was forming due to dehydration, but I ignored it.

When we finally made it, I saw a jeep driving next to us. A grin formed on my face and I opened the window.

“There he is!” Bucky waved, “Did you miss me?”

I chuckled and shook my head, the reason for my ears stinging earlier finally making sense. “Like a stone in my shoe!”

The plane slowed to a stop and I followed the men out. I made my way over to John, who greeted me with a hug.

“Looks like you finally made it!” He smiled brightly.

That was Bucky, for you. And ever since then, whenever we were separated, I always felt a buzz in my ears.

Even now.

-

“How long do you think we’re gonna be in here?” Crank asked, watching the Nazis barge into the huts to check them.

“I don’t know.” I let out a sigh, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Bucky would hate for me to admit it, but I was slowly losing hope. Staring into the night sky, I could only wish that the other men were okay.

That night, I didn’t get much rest. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Bucky had always told me.

“I believe that if there were only two B-17s up in the sky, it would me and you piloting them.”

He had firmly believed that, and so did I. But now I was a sitting duck, and I had no idea how Bucky was doing.

The following afternoon, I was outside of the hut walking with Crank. We were talking about different ways to get out, but each way was met with a dead end. Some men before had tried them, and it ended in a horrible mess.

“We just have to stay strong.” I said mostly to myself. Crank nodded, agreeing with me. “We can’t give those bastards any more info than they already got.” I frowned, hoping that the Germans had no information on us.

Suddenly, the first gate began to open and a few men were walking out of a car. Soldiers started shouting, rushing to the gate to see who the new prisoners were.

I glanced at Crank and we followed the others. I walked around the entrance behind the gate, trying to get a glimpse of who was coming inside.

My ears began to burn and I winced, trying to ignore it. It grew worse and my eyes landed on the person who always caused it.

A smile formed on my face as I walked towards the fence. “John Egan.” My voice boomed and Bucky turned around.

Despite my lower voice getting lost in the shouting, he heard me perfectly. He smiled and I nodded, happy to see a familiar face.

“There’s the stone in my shoe.” I teased him, wrapping an arm around him as I showed him where we would be staying.

Chapter Text

Ray Person was one of the best soldiers I knew. There’s a reason I wanted him to be my driver. Not only did he have great taste in music, but he was able to stay calm in action even when Captain America was freaking out.

That was especially helpful since he held all of our lives in the palm of his hand.

It was usual to hear him singing pop songs or rambling on about something unnecessary due to his caffeine intake.

It was unusual, however, to see him in the state he was in now.

-

Brad sat on the sidelines with some of the other men when they heard shouting. They saw the game going wrong and Ray almost punched Rudy in the face.

“Get him off of him!” Brad shouted, charging forward. Others pulled the two men apart and Ray scoffed and stormed off.

“You okay, Rudy?” One man asked him, and he nodded.

“What’s up with him, anyways?” Rudy glanced at Brad, who was frowning and watching where Ray walked off.

“I don’t know. He’s been acting strange since Baghdad.” Brad narrowed his eyes, debating whether or not he should check on Ray.

“He’ll find his own footing.” The older male said to himself, deciding to busy himself with other things than taking part in football.

Later in the afternoon, Lilley had gathered everyone in a room to show them the video he had been working on all throughout the war.

Brad sat in the corner, not paying much attention to what else was happening. He stared out the window and thought about what he would tell his parents when he finally got home when he heard someone tap on the table.

He glanced up and saw Ray, who was handing him a cup of water. Brad raised an eyebrow and Ray sat down across from him, taking a sip from his own water cup.

“Relax, I’m not gonna poison you.” Ray said, lowering the cup from his face.

Brad chuckled and accepted the water. “Wasn’t worried you would, but nice to know.”

They sat in silence for a minute when Brad finally spoke.

“What’s been up with you today?” He asked, knowing this would end in nothing. Sometimes, though, it helped the men to talk about what they went through. It helped clear their mind before they returned home.

“What? Oh, nothing.” Ray waved him off, leaning the chair on its two legs and pushing it against the nearby wall. “I was just having a major crash from the caffeine intake.”

“I told you to relax on those.” Brad said in a slightly scolding tone.

“Yeah, but what if we crashed cause I fell asleep at the wheel?”

Brad hummed and Ray smiled.

“Probably would’ve been nicer than listening to you say that this war is all because of not having enough pussy.” Brad mumbled and Ray laughed.

“It’s not my fault you don’t always like hearing the truth. You simply go out there all iceman mode without a care in the world as to why you’re there.”

Brad rolled his eyes and Ray grinned, shrugging. The shorter male watched the video from where they were sitting and Brad nodded to himself, deciding not to push the subject further.

It was clear that Ray was under a lot of stress, but who was he to try and help out? Besides, maybe Ray was right.

Maybe he got his fucking brains back and realized how horrific the situation was.

Chapter Text

The men in the pub chatted lively together as swing music was playing in the room. Malarkey was humming along to the Glenn Miller song, and Muck was tapping the beat out on the table.

Toye stood next to Guarnere, the two talking about anything that came to mind. For Toye, that was about Bill’s recent leave.

“So you really decided to get a tattoo, huh?” Joe asked, pointing to Bill’s sleeve. The Southern Philly rolled up his sleeve, letting his friend see how it was still a bit irritated.

“Not too mad about it, actually.” He said proudly.

Toye hummed and took a swig of his drink. “Where’d Martin get his?”

“Same spot on the arm.” Guarnere said, hiding the tattoo again.

Joe chuckled and shook his head. “Boy, his wife is gonna kill him.”

Bill laughed and nodded. Their conversation ended and Guarnere took the chance to glance around the room. While the military tried to make it a comforting and warm atmosphere, it was very tense.

It was the first wave of replacements, and many of the D-Day veterans weren’t happy to see them. They lost quite a few men on June 6th, most of which were lost and no one knew whether they were dead or alive.

Seeing these bright eyed replacements was the last thing many of the vets wanted to see. They had no idea what it was like, and now they had to be the ones to try and explain it.

Guarnere had tried warming up towards some of them, but he didn’t get too far because of Muck butting in and billeting a replacement for his badge.

Afterwards, Bill left early to get back to the hut he was staying at. Before he could, he heard someone call his name.

Turning around, he saw Winters walking up to him. He stood tall and Guarnere straightened his back, not wanting to seem lazy in front of him. Suddenly, Guarnere noticed a smaller boy behind Winters.

He had messy ginger hair and a crooked smile that matched his shy nature.

“Guarnere, this is Babe Heffron. He’s a replacement from South Philly.” Winters introduced the boy and Guarnere smiled. “I was hoping you could help him adjust.”

“Sure thing.” Bill nodded and Winters smiled before leaving. That was the kind of man Winters was. He didn’t always show it, and sometimes it was hard to tell if it was genuine, but Winters had deep care and respect for the men. He wanted to make sure that they would be with people they got along with while not getting too close.

Malarkey had once told Bill about how Winters separated him and Muck so in the event that one of them died, the other wouldn’t feel completely crushed.

“Did your mother really name you Babe?” Bill asked, trying to start a conversation.

The ginger laughed and shook his head. “It’s a nickname I’ve had since I was little. My real name’s Edward.”

“Huh…” Guarnere studied him before smiling. “Babe does fit you, though.”

“Thanks.” Babe chuckled. “So what part of South Philly are you from?”

That kicked the conversation off smoothly and the two started listing people’s names and common buildings they knew, trying to see how close they lived to each other.

As Guarnere found out more and more about the small replacement, he could feel a tight bond forming and he wanted to keep him close to his side.

South Philly brothers have to stick together.

Chapter Text

Nixon and I were welcomed in by a nice family in Holland. It was early October, and I was appreciative of the warm nature they presented us.

We made it up to our room and Nixon opened up my trunk.

“You know you ran out of your drinks- “ I cut myself off as I saw Nixon take out another bottle of his precious Vat 69.

How he stored it in my trunk, I do not know. I assumed he had run out since he stopped messing with my trunk, but I was clearly wrong.

“You seem to doubt my scrounging abilities.” He nodded to me, lifting the glass in the air before opening it.

I chuckled and shook my head, sitting down on the wooden chair. “Seems I do.”

“Dick, I’m the intelligence officer. Do you really think I don’t know where everything is?” Lewis asked, putting the glass down on the shelf above his bed.

“You’re telling me this entire time you’ve been researching where to get your drink rather than plans for our next mission?” I teased him and Nixon laughed.

“I like to keep track of the important things.” He sat on his bed, taking another sip of his drink, feeding his addiction.

I never understood the joys of drinking, but I felt honored for him to trust me enough with his Vat 69. That was how deep our friendship went, and I never once regretted it.

“I’m glad you have your priorities straight.” I said sarcastically.

-

Months later, we were in Haguenau, and Nixon had just returned from a mission where most everyone died.

I tried to speak to him about it, but he wouldn’t listen. He ignored me and checked every bottle of Vat 69 he left around the different rooms before throwing them away.

“Nix- “

“What am I gonna tell these parents, Dick?” Lewis looked at me, finally finding a bottle that had something left in it.

“You tell them what we always tell them.” I said, knowing that this could be a hard topic for him to discuss. “Their sons died as heroes.”

Nixon gently shook the glass, watching as the drink swirled a bit.

“You really still believe that?” He asked me after taking a swig of it.

I narrowed my eyes and I nodded. “Yes…I do. Don’t you?”

Nixon scoffed and smiled, rolling his eyes.

“Lewis, I know this is hard but you have to do it.”

“They never even made it out of the goddamn plane, Dick. What kind of hero is that?”

“A hero isn’t someone who does some big act during the war. Willing to sacrifice the rest of your life is enough.” I snapped, turning away.

Nixon rolled his eyes stepped over to my trunk.

“You ran out.” I said before he even opened it. “Might as well make an effort to quit.”

“You should make an effort to stop scolding me.” He said angrily before storming out.

I sighed and sat on my bed, running a hand through my hair. I had few arguments with Nixon, and each time I felt pathetic for it.

It wasn’t right for us to argue like that, and none of our disagreements ever made any sense.

I stood up and shook my head, knowing that he would come around by tomorrow.

Chapter Text

I grinned and leaned against the counter as Toye walked up to the bar. I glanced at his jump wings and cleared my throat, mimicking Sobel.

“Is that dust on your jump wings, Toye? How do you expect to kill Germans with dirt on your jump wings, Toye?”

He licked his thumb and cleaned his badge before rolling his eyes as I teased him. My eyes widened as he grabbed my collar and pulled me closer.

“Luz…” He said in a soft voice, “just get me a drink.”

A slow smile formed on my face and I put two drinks down, taking one and clinking it against his. I put it up to my lips to cover up my red cheeks.

Toye sighed as he put the glass down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You ready for this crazy thing?” He asked me, his words a bit slurred.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I sighed, turning a bit serious. Glancing around, you could see everyone’s happy expressions. We were all excited at the fact we got our jump wings.

We survived Sobel.

But now? We had to get shipped off to Europe, never knowing when we’d come back home.

Toye stood up and gave me a soft smile before sitting with Guarnere. I watched him, burning that expression into my memory.

-

Hearing Guarnere and Toye’s groans of pain was something I never expected to hear. Guarnere sat in the snow, which was turning redder by the minute.

Lipton followed me, his eyes widening as he took in the sight that lay before him.

“Looks like they got ol’ Guarnere this time, huh, Lip?” He winked at the Sergeant, who gulped and nodded, unable to say anything.

Toye was gripping his leg, his entire body shaking. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. It was horrific, and it sent shivers down my spine.

“Jesus,” Toye muttered, his voice quivering, “What’s a guy gotta do to get killed around here?”

I stayed there watching as Roe and Spina put Guarnere and Toye onto stretchers and Jackson drove them to an aid station.

“Luz!” Lipton snapped his fingers in my face and I jolted.

“What?” I whispered, still staring at the blood stains in the snow.

“I asked you if Compton’s okay.” Lipton said sternly, and I waved him off.

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

Lipton frowned and left me alone. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lipton kneeling in front of Buck, trying to talk to him.

We were all torn to pieces knowing that the two best men were gone and out. With Compton gone as well, we were left with Foxhole Norman.

One horrible shelling, he just ran off and left Lipton in charge. Lipton was doing his best to shout at everyone to get to safety, but we were all in a panic.

The ground felt as though it was trying to tear itself apart, and I felt it rattling against my chest. My heart pumped loudly as I tried to shuffle towards a foxhole.

“LUZ! COME ON!”

I lifted my head and saw Muck and Penkala shouting at me to take cover in their foxhole. I started to make my way towards them when a shell hit their hole.

I froze as I saw the two men disappear in thin air.

I couldn’t move, and Lipton grabbed my shirt and pulled me towards him. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I felt relief that I had survived, but great sorrow knowing that I had just watched two great men die.

All I could think about in that moment, however, was how thankful I was to not be in that foxhole with them.

Chapter Text

“So what’s it like there?” Arvid hobbled onto his bed, holding his guitar. “Being a Nazi.” He used jazz hands, though his sarcasm was clear.

“Arvid, you know we had to.” Thomas stood up, holding his hat in his hands.

“He had to.” Arvid glared pointedly at Peter, who blushed red from embarrassment and looked down.

“Well, yeah, but we gotta stick together!” Thomas wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “We can’t let this Swing Kid go in on his own! What if they corrupt him?”

The crippled boy sighed and shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

“You think we do?” Peter asked, stepping forward. “I hate it there! I wish I could be free like you and listen to swing music all day.”

Arvid couldn’t help but smile and Otto lit a cigarette, offering one to him. Arvid shook his head and Otto shrugged.

“More for me.” He mumbled, putting the lighter in his pocket.

“I agree with Arv, though.” He said, putting his hand on the table and leaning on it. “I mean, I didn’t join cause Peter had to.”

“We’re closer.” Thomas pointed out, and Otto shrugged it off, not seeming bothered by it.

“Why’d you two have to join anyways?” Otto asked.

“We tried stealing that lady’s radio. You know the one in the bakery downtown? She got that radio from a Jewish family the Nazis liberated.” Peter explained.

“Ahh, that’s right. And you got caught.” Otto finished, putting out his cigarette when he heard the front door shut, meaning Arvid’s mother was back from the store (she hated when his friend’s smoked).

“Well Peter got caught.” Arvid said, “Thomas never had to join. He did it out of the…kindness, per se, of his heart.”

Thomas glared at him. “I hate this symbol just as much as you do.”

“Do you?”

“Yes! Like I told Peter, Nazis by day, swing kids by night!” The shorter male walked up to his friend, who seemed skeptical of the whole situation.

“We’re still us, Arvid.” Peter backed up his friend, wanting his group to be calm about the situation.

Arvid sighed and shook his head. “Sure. If you say so.” He said shortly.

Thomas was getting mad, but Otto gave him a look to stop him from saying anything he’d regret.

“No, say it.” Arvid egged him on, noticing the looks the boys were giving each other.

“I was just wanting to say,” Thomas glared at Otto and turned to Arvid, “you don’t have to be so snobby about this.”

“How can I not be? I don’t understand how you all are so calm about this! We know how bad the Nazis are! Why’d you have to willingly join them?” Arvid snapped, gripping onto the frame of his bed as he stood up.

“My father wanted me to, anyways! I didn’t have much of a choice either!” Thomas tried to defend himself.

“Okay, let’s think.” Arvid mockingly tapped his chin. “Let’s see, Peter had to choose between jail and joining a school while you had to choose between staying home with ol’ daddy or going to a school where they teach you how awful people like me are.”

“They don’t teach us that.” Thomas said through gritted teeth.

“Then what do they teach you?”

Peter fell silent and Otto raised an eyebrow, curious to see what Thomas was going to say.

“It’s just physical education, Arvid. They’re just making us soldiers. You worry too much.”

Arvid scoffed, knowing that it was a lie.

“Whatever. Just get out.”

The three of them left, and Otto glanced at his friends who were now in fancy uniforms.

“Good luck out there.” Otto said, and Peter nodded.

“Thanks…” He glanced at Thomas. “I’ll need it.”

Chapter Text

I was never one for parties, let alone giant crowds. People were everywhere; the bar, the pool, the garden. It was impossible to get some alone time.

I wasn’t the best at socializing, but it seemed I was doing something right to get a personal invite to Gatsby’s party, which I found out was actually rare.

It was strange, however, to have not met him yet. Normally if I host a small get together, I always talk to all of my guests. It seems that Gatsby and I have differing views on that.

I found Jordan Baker, and she stuck with me through the party. We decided to take a stroll through the garden, where most people were.

Glancing around, I was silently praying I wouldn’t run into anyone from the previous night. I did not want to see Mr. Mckee after everything that happened.

“Are you okay?” Jordan linked her arm in mine, “You seem very tense.”

“Ah, I’m quite alright.” I put a smile on my face, trying to hide my discomfort.

“If you say so.” She straightened her posture, but she was still a few inches shorter than me.

I grabbed a cocktail from a nearby table and handed one to Jordan. She thanked me and I picked up a glass myself. I noticed a man nearby and turned to him.

We maintained eye contact for a full minute, trying to place where we knew each other. He then smiled and stepped closer.

“Excuse me,” He said, his posture perfect and his suit having zero wrinkles or creases in it. “Were you in the Third Division during the war?”

I blinked in surprise, but I quickly smiled and nodded. “Why, yes. I was in the Ninth Machine-Gun Battalion.”

We began to speak about our memories of the war, and we talked about the rainy towns in France. It was quite nice to meet someone else from the war since I finally met someone else like me.

Do not get me wrong, Jordan was a wonderful lady who comforted me in this bright place, but I was nothing like the others.

I was not rich, nor did I have some fancy background. Knowing that someone else came from the war made me feel as though I was not alone.

“You know,” I spoke, feeling more comfortable in this strange place, “this party is quite strange. I was invited by Gatsby, yet I haven’t even met him yet.”

The man in front of me seemed a bit surprised and then he chuckled, smiling.

“Why,” He said, stepping closer, “I am Gatsby.”

I felt my eyes widen as my cheeks turned red from embarrassment. I had publicly embarrassed myself in front of my neighbor who threw these over the top parties as if it didn’t cost him a penny.

“My apologies, sir!” I tried to laugh at the situation.

“No, no, it is my fault.” He fixed the collar on his jacket, seeming a bit nervous. “Do not lose sleep over it, old sport, I suppose I am not that good of a host.”

Old sport? I thought, wondering where that nickname suddenly came from.

“Well, I won’t. And I doubt you are that bad of a host. After all, look at all these people you can invite as if it was nothing.”

He smiled at me and I felt my heart race slightly. It was a strange feeling, and perhaps it was because of Jordan who returned after speaking to some of her friends and she interlocked her hand with mine.

A part of me knew, however, that my heart was wanting to belong to someone else. I watched as Gatsby walked away to take a call from someone in Chicago. He told us he’d catch up with us later, and flashed yet another dashing smile my way.

“Why, it seems that you two are getting along well.” Jordan said, noticing the way I seemed frozen in place. “Nick?”

“Yes…” I finally said, finally turning to look at her. “Yes, I suppose we are.”

Chapter Text

“Let’s go to Chicago, I’ll take you there.”

I stood at the train station, barely awake. I was so exhausted from everything that had happened since we returned from the war about five months ago.

Buying my own place was tricky, and it was hard for Nixon to convince me to drop everything to visit Chicago with him.

So, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Nix? What are you doing here?”

“We’re going to Chicago! Come on, pack your bags. We’re leaving at 0400.”

I put my hand over my mouth as I yawned, and Nixon stood next to me, carrying our luggage.

“I can carry my own case, you know.” I said, trying to reach for it.

“Not until you finish that coffee, Major.” He said my rank in a teasing tone, and I sighed, rolling my eyes.

I had no idea how Nixon still had so much energy after everything. I suppose he was just trying to escape his own head my traveling around.

His wife and kids left him during the war, so I know he didn’t have much of a warm welcome when we got back.

The train slowed to a stop and people stepped off. I took the tickets out of my jacket pocket and showed them to the conductor before stepping onto the train car.

We sat down and I shut eyes, tuning my friend out for a minute.

“Dick!”

I jerked awake and Nixon grinned, shaking his head as he unscrewed his flask and took a sip.

“Why did we have to take the earliest train?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Since when do you care? I thought I was the one that was hard to get out of the sack.”

I sighed, nodding.

“What happened?”

I hesitated and Nixon frowned, seeming concerned. It was the first time I had seen him more worried about a person than where his Vat 69 was.

I shook my head and Lewis sighed, putting his flask in his jacket pocket.

“Dick, you’re never like this. We pulled all nighters during the war. What happened.”

“I guess I’m just not ready.” I shrugged, throwing my hands in the air.

Nixon raised an eyebrow. “Ready for what?”

“Life, Lewis.”

He frowned and I sighed, running a hand down my face.

“I promised that I’d live in a small farm in Pennsylvania, but I can’t help but wonder if I threw my life away…” I mumbled, staring out the window. All that stared back was my reflection in the dark night.

“I know…” Nixon said in a soft voice, making me turn to him in surprise.

“I mean,” he shrugged, “I’m a Yale graduate who ended up going into the war. I don’t know much about my family’s business.”

“…seems like you really need my help there.” I said, and Nixon cracked a grin.

“Why else would I ask you to go with me? I trust you. And heck, you carried me all through that war, there’s no way you can’t carry me through this too.”

I chuckled and smiled, knowing that as long as I was with him I would be alright.

“Going to college to be a businessman and suddenly going to war…I worry that I may have disappointed my parents somehow.” I admitted. I knew my achievements during the war were great, but it was the complete opposite of how I wanted my life to go.

I didn’t want to be haunted by a poor Nazi boy’s smile.

“You’re a business man now. Plus, you have an awesome boss.” Nixon pointed out and I laughed.

“I suppose that’s true.”

“It is true, Dick. Come on, you’ll be alright. I won’t let you get lost in this journey.” Nixon put his arm around me, moving to sit next to me on the train.

I smiled at him as we made eye contact.

“Thanks, Nix.”

Chapter Text

“Stay frosty.”

I lifted my gaze as I heard a familiar voice in the distance. Sure enough, there was Brad talking to some of the men. Many people saw him as a natural leader. Heck, even I did.

He deserved to be a higher rank, but battlefield promotions were hard to get. Besides, it was better that he was closer to the men. They listened to him and trusted his intellect.

He got in a messy situation, however, after a mess-up with Trombley.

-

I stepped away from the tent, thinking over everything in my head. Godfather was mad at me and I haven’t even begun to think about what I was going to say to Trombley.

“Sir.”

I turned around and saw Brad, who seemed uptight. “Permission to speak, sir.” He requested and I waved a hand.

“Permission granted.” I mumbled, staring into the distance at the desert landscape.

“Do not punish Trombley for what happened. It was my fault.”

I raised an eyebrow, confused. I turned my body to fully face him and Brad had a blank expression. He simply nodded and continued, standing closer to me.

“I ordered them to take anything as hostile.” He continued.

I bit my lip, knowing very well that is what Godfather had ordered. Why Godfather denied it, I can only assume. One thing was for sure though, Brad was a hell of a lot better than him.

“Thank you, Brad.” I said, nodding. “But you know there’s nothing we can do to make this better other than trying to save his life, which may be close to impossible.”

“I know…”

I sighed and shook my head, taking off my helmet.

“Sir.”

I waved my hand once again, letting him speak. “Brad, you know you do not have to ask me for permission to speak, right?” I cracked a grin.

Brad chuckled and nodded. “It’s formalities.”

“True, but right now like this…you don’t have to ask.”

He smiled and I returned it, the two of us standing in a comfortable silence.

“So, what did you want to ask?” I tilted my head, keeping my eyes locked with his.

“I wanted to thank you for trying to take the fall for that in front of Godfather.”

“You’re taking responsibility right now.” I pointed out, “You’re a good soldier.”

Brad grinned. “Don’t flatter me.”

I chuckled and nudged his shoulder. “Just keep an eye on Trombley. We don’t want him getting so beat up he quits. It’s good to have someone as frosty as you are.”

The Sergeant laughed and shook his head.

“Maybe we can have to icemen.”

“Hey, I thought that was my thing.” Brad chuckled, grinning as he leaned his head down.

“Seems we only have one. This one’s thawing out.”

He smiled and grabbed my helmet, putting it back onto my head.

“You know to never take your helmet off in combat.”

I nodded, watching as he left. I sighed and shook my head, slapping my cheeks with my hands to pull myself out of the nonsense my heart was feeling.

Chapter Text

I had never felt his amount of grief before. I didn’t even cry the first night they took my father away.

I felt as though I had to stay strong and be the man in the house. I had to be someone my mother could rely on and help take care of my baby brother.

This time, though, was different.

I felt such a big wave of shame and guilt that I was drowning. I simply stood there and watched as Thomas spewed all that hate speech to Arvid.

He ruined Arvid’s great night. Not only did he have a fantastic solo, but he stood up to those Nazi dicks. And now?

He was six feet under.

I should’ve said something to Thomas, made him shut up. I tried, yes, but it wasn’t enough. And now Arvid was gone.

His girlfriend was crying hysterically as the priest finished and Arvid was lowered into the ground. The casket landed with a soft thump, and I lowered my head for a silent prayer.

A part of me wished that bookstore keeper was able to help Arvid escape. I guess in a way he did…

I wish he was still here. He was the only voice of reason I had besides my own. And the one person I could truly call a best friend was someone I barely recognized.

“Hey..”

I turned around and saw Otto. I was surprised he arrived since we were never that close. He was closer with Arvid, but not by much. He mostly hung around us when we went out at parties. He liked listening to swing music with Arvid, but I never knew much about him.

“Hi.” I nodded, my hands gripped tight around each other.

“How are you…”He sighed, biting his lip. “How are you holding up?”

I shrugged and shook my head. “Fine? I mean, what am I supposed to say? It’s practically my fault this happened.”

“What?” Otto looked puzzled. “I got a letter saying he just ended it…” He trailed off, not comfortable with finishing his sentence.

“Yeah, but why do you think he did it?”

“Probably just because of the way things are right now.”

I rolled my eyes and Otto raised an eyebrow.

“Well, why do you think he…” Otto licked his dry lips before continuing, “…you know.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, sitting down on a bench. “Because of me.”

The taller boy’s eyes widened and he sat next to his friend.

“Peter, no. You’re a great friend, you couldn’t’ve- “

“Arvid snapped at some Nazis asking him to play a German song and Thomas got defensive and said Arvid was a cripple and wasn’t thinking right.” I shook my head, shivering. “He said some other stuff too but…I don’t wanna repeat it.”

“Oh…”

Otto leaned back on the bench, staring into the distance. His mouth was a bit agape and he looked stunned.

“Otto- “

He shook his head and his grip tightened on the bench. I fell silent, not knowing what to say.

“I…I’m sorry.” I whispered.

I stood up and walked out of the graveyard. As I rounded the corner, I saw a familiar uniform.

I made eye contact with Thomas, who had a guilty look in his eyes. He took off his hat and I frowned, walking past him.

I expected to hear an apology, or at least for Thomas to tell me to wait before explaining himself, but I heard nothing.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Thomas stand over Arvid’s grave. I felt my heart sink, knowing that Arvid was right.

Thomas didn’t know who his real friends were.

And now I had no one.

Chapter Text

I followed Winters towards the balcony of the Eagle’s Nest. It felt weird to be standing here so calmly, but it also felt right.

Welsh, Nixon, and Speirs were already there, and Winters was excited to tell them the news that the Germans had surrendered.

Welsh was utterly shocked, and Nixon and Winters lightly teased him over his reaction. Speirs didn’t seem surprised and stood up, walking over to me.

I turned my attention to him and relaxed a bit, not standing as tall as I had before.

“Can you believe it?” He asked, leaning against the balcony wall.

“Believe what?” I tilted my head, not knowing exactly what he meant.

“That this is all over.” He clarified, staring into the distance that was littered with beautiful mountains.

“No, honestly.” I copied his pose but instead looked at him. “It’s hard to grasp that we’re gonna be going back home soon.”

He chuckled and nodded. “It’s like I’ve been wanting this moment since this damn war started, but now that it’s here…”

“You don’t want it to end.” I finished his sentence.

Speirs tore his eyes from the scenery and made eye contact with me. I offered a reassuring smile and he hesitantly returned it.

“What are you going to do when you get home?” I asked him, curious about where he may end up.

“Not sure…I don’t even know if I wanna go home.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not that close with my family. I shipped all that stuff to them during the war so they knew I was alive.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why not just send them a letter?”

“Too simple.” He said, shrugging.

I chuckled and shook my head. “Fair enough.”

“Besides, if I were to die, I’d at least want them to have something from me.”

“Even if you aren’t that close with them?”

“Even then…”

“So…why are you so scared to see them?”

“Cause…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I wanna do yet.”

“To be honest…I don’t either.” I folded my arms over my chest and Speirs turned his body so he was now facing me. He had a look on his face that told me he didn’t believe me.

I chuckled and explained myself. “I just spent four years in the military and now we’re just supposed to go back home like nothing ever happened?”

“You don’t have to leave.” He mumbled.

“Are you planning on staying?”

He was quiet and I stared into his eyes as I waited for an answer. He finally made eye contact with me and he cracked a smile.

“Maybe…seems like the best fit for me.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a great leader for all the new recruits.”

“Yeah, it’ll just be a shame that so many of these men are going back home. I could use their help spreading rumors about me.” He winked, elbowing me.

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Of course. You wouldn’t be Speirs if you didn’t scare everyone with a single look.”

“I don’t scare everyone.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “I don’t scare you.”

I smiled and shrugged. “I suppose that’s true. So I guess that means I’m the only one you’re kind of friends with?”

“Do you want to be my friend?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It would be fun to say that I was friends with someone no one would dare accept a cigarette off of.” I chuckled.

He grinned from ear to ear. “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

I felt bad for Bucky, I really did. Seeing how much of a toll this was taking on him hurt me. I was just as exhausted as he was, but he couldn’t handle it anymore.

He was too disconnected with everything to get his head straight. Our radio machine was a bust and he never got any letters. We read our letters aloud if we were willing to share since sometimes it helped the others feel better.

He was tired though, and he could’t handle it anymore.

“What in the world is he doing?” Crank asked, standing behind me as we watched Bucky shout into the void about baseball.

He ran around in a circle before acting like he was pitching. Afterwards, he quickly ran to the center and hit the imaginary ball with a fake bat.

“What do you think he’s doin?” I asked, watching as Bucky slowly lost his mind.

“I don’t understand baseball.” Crank sighed, shaking his head.

“Why don’t you ask to join? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” I nodded my head in John’s direction and Crank chuckled, rolling his eyes.

I watched my friend and patted Crank’s back, standing up and walking over to Bucky.

He noticed me and smiled.

“Hey, Buck. Come to join me?”

“Me and the guys were wondering what the score was.” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets.

He began explaining this imaginary game and I quickly interrupted when I realized this wouldn’t end anytime soon.

“Listen, Bucky…” I bit my lip before continuing. “Are you doing alright?”

“Me? I’ve never been better. Why do you ask?” He put his hands together as if holding a baseball bat and swung in the air.

“No reason…” I trailed off, watching as Bucky pretended to see where the ball ended up.

“I mean,” He spun on his heel, “I’ve only been trapped here for eight months and have been eating the same garbage potatoes every day. But nah, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I sighed, knowing I wasn’t going to get anymore out of him. I never knew any of the men to open up, but in times like these you couldn’t help but want to reach out. Just let the man know you’re there for him.

Bucky simply ignored me and went back to his game. I shook my head and left, going back to our hut to call it a day. I was worried about losing him to his own fear and that he may be too far gone.

I was proven wrong, however, when the following day arrived. One thing about Bucky that didn’t change was his ability to push my buttons.

I stood outside and watched the men try and lift the stump from the ground. They were struggling against the wooden poll, desperately trying to dig their heels in the ground to push it forward.

“What’s this?” Bucky asked, appearing at my side.

I glanced over at him and nodded to the other men. “Lifting this stump for wood.”

“Huh…” He clapped his hands, “Hey, how about a baseball game later?” As he was explaining the rules, someone working on the stump stopped and glared at him.

“Either help us out or beat it.” He snapped.

Bucky glared at him and turned to me.

“You gonna let him talk to me like that?”

“He’s right, Bucky.” I sighed, putting my hands on my hips.

“Oh I see how it is…” He grinned and lightly shoved me. “Come on, Buck. You got that anger in you, just let it out. Let me know how you truly feel.”

He kept nudging me in the arm and I snapped, tackling him to the ground. The men nearby stared and formed a circle around us while Bucky and I fought. He started taunting me and I punched him in the face.

The crowd cheered and Bucky launched back into the mud. Suddenly, a loud alarm went off and the Nazis looked worried. I stood up and offered my friend a hand.

I don’t know if it was our squabble or the alarm that was able to help him regain focus, but that didn’t matter to me right then.

All that mattered was that I got my friend back.

Chapter Text

It was easy to feel overwhelmed during this time. This war was never ending, and we were still fighting during the bitter winter. Men were getting frostbite left and right, and I was left with barely any supplies to get through it.

Spina and I were the only medics, and we were constantly running around. Get new boots, find morphine, bandages, anything.

Praying left you with doubts, wondering if anyone up above would even listen. You hoped that the man controlling the strings would have mercy on you, but you just had to keep going and not think about it at the moment.

It was hard seeing the dark toll this war was having on everyone. Seeing the bright faces turn into exhaustion and depression. We tried to keep the moral high, but it was hard. I was scared that we would lose Babe after Julian got hit, and we almost did.

Once a man hits that low, all he needs is one more domino to fall before it crushes him. Spina made sure to spend extra time with Babe, trying to make him feel better. I heard that Babe’s friend had died right in front of him back in October, and I knew seeing Julian die just earlier today wouldn’t make that wound any better.

There was always one person I could look forward to seeing, however.

She was a nurse who decided to help the war effort, and she helped comfort almost every man that came into the “hospital.” Her name was Renee.

She was kind and strong, keeping a strong head on her shoulders as she tried to save their lives.

I drove back to the aid station and started to round up on more supplies, knowing that Spina had dried up on most of his bandages.

Bandages weren’t a thing anymore, and we started using sheets instead.

As I grabbed a wooden crate, I heard Renee shouting at Abby for help. I quickly entered the main room in the church and saw Renee trying to stop a soldier from bleeding out.

Abby and I ran over and we tried putting pressure on the bandage and stop the bleeding. The man was moaning in pain, and our hands were covered in blood.

He started violently coughing and blood flooded out of his mouth as his eyes clouded. I watched as he left this realm and I threw the bandage onto the floor, frustrated.

That was just another useless death in this stupid war.

Renee saw my grim expression and asked if I wanted to get some fresh air. We stepped outside and sat on some chairs surrounded by rubble from the destroyed buildings.

As she broke up a bar of chocolate, I noticed her hands. Calloused and stained with dried blood, but also petite and soft. It was a strange feeling to look at this woman and know that ten years ago, she probably had a completely different dream in terms of what she wanted to do with her life.

Yet now, she was stuck seeing dying men every day, trying to be their guardian angel. She had seen much death, just as I had, yet together we were each other’s guardians.

She was there for me when I needed supplies and extra help, and I was there for her when she couldn’t be in the battlegrounds to help heal the dying men.

I needed her.

So when I went to visit her on Christmas Eve…it felt as though the world was falling from under me.

And ever since that day, I remembered the one rule I told myself from the beginning.

Never grow too close to someone because one day…you may have to watch them die.

Chapter Text

I have only been drunk twice in my life. Tonight marks the second time. I wished I had told Tom I wasn’t going to stay long since I had something to do, but I hadn’t and I was now stuck here trying to make conversation with people who only want to flirt and get in bed with people.

Mr. Mckee was taking pictures of fun moments that the others were having, and Catherine was criticizing me on my outfit. I ignored her and tried to laugh it off, but I was very much uncomfortable.

Tom and Myrtle stepped out of the bedroom and Tom told me it was free if I wanted to do something with Catherine. I felt my cheeks heat up at such a thought, and Catherine found it funny.

Myrtle grabbed another bottle of whiskey from her bag and I gulped as I realized that this night wasn’t over yet. Mrs. Mckee was complimenting Catherine, her tone rising and getting louder by the second.

I thought my glass would break as she gushed about how much she loved her dress. I tried to ignore the girls and sat down, watching as Mr. Mckee was talking to Tom about his old projects.

I was barely awake and going at a snail’s pace while everything around me was running a mile a minute.

All I could think about was how much I wanted to go back home. I shut my eyes and my brain thought of Gatsby. My eyes shot open and my cheeks flushed red, wondering why the heck I was even thinking of him.

“Oh, so you are awake.” Catherine laughed, sitting on my right leg.

I blushed heavily, not knowing what to say or do. I opened my mouth, but no noise came out of it.

She leaned in and poured more alcohol into my glass, telling me to drink up. I slowly raised it to my mouth and smiled through it, trying to look as though I was enjoying myself.

The rest of the night was a blur. All I can really remember is there being a lot of noise and shouting. There was a loud smack as Myrtle and Tom shouted at each other.

I can’t recall how it started, but Tom had smacked Myrtle across the face and broke her nose. There were bloody tissues and a white towel covered in blood as Catherine tried to stop her sister’s nose from bleeding out.

Ever since that night, my feelings towards Tom changed. I thought was a fine man, especially if Daisy seemed happy with him, but he was cheating on her this whole time and even hated his sweetheart.

It seemed he didn’t ever care about the girls he slept with, only the fleeting happiness he got every other night with them.

I shivered at the thought of Tom treating Daisy just as rude as he treated Myrtle, and I stood up to go tell Gatsby about what I found out.

I quickly stumbled and gripped the side of the chair as I tried to balance. I felt someone put their hands on my waist and I turned around to see Mr. Mckee.

I blushed heavily and he smiled.

“Sorry, you just seemed like you were about to fall.” He said, not moving his hands.

I slowly nodded and he helped me towards the door. He handed me my coat and hat, grabbing his own stuff.

“How about we get some lunch together sometime? It’d be nice to talk about Long Island and future projects we can do in not such…” he waved his hand, “a chaotic setting.”

I chuckled and nodded, “That sounds nice.”

-

Waking up the following day, I saw Mr. Mckee next to me. I groaned, seeing it was about 3:30 in the morning. I put a hand to my head, barely remembering what happened after the party. I stood up and grabbed my clothes, quickly dressing before leaving.

I waited in the Pennsylvania Train Station to catch a train back to West Egg, and I grabbed a newspaper. The words seemed to jumble up and I folded it into my bag, thinking I’d read it later.

I saw someone walk past me and I whipped my head around, thinking I saw Gatsby. I didn’t, of course, but the thought of him made me blush a bit.

I shook my head, assuming I was just ready to tell Gatsby I was willing to help him talk to Daisy again, but a part of me felt weird about setting them up.

Chapter Text

I have no idea how these men are able to stay calm in such a shocking situation. They act as though this is normal (which, I suppose it is for them). It’s so strange to see how humans can take such a dark situation as normal.

Trombley quickly hit behind the humvee as he tried not to get shot at. Ray was shouting at Brad, probably making some dumb joke.

I wanted to get closer to hear them and write about it, but I didn’t feel comfortable with getting out from behind this humvee.

Nate Fick ran over to Brad, telling him something. I peeked from around the tire, and Fick glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with me.

“Reporter.” He said, running quickly over to me, staying close to the ground.

“Yes?” I sat up a bit, curious at what he needed. I was a bit worried he was going to criticize my writing or note taking, but he ignored the tiny book in my hands.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, a grin on his face.

I raised an eyebrow and glanced around, confused at what he meant.

He chuckled and smiled, patting my shoulder.

“You’re writing about the truth of what all is happening.” He motioned around us. “Most people in America right now think of Iraq as a dangerous country.”

I nodded, “I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone did.”

Fick agreed with me but continued on. “Now, if I were to stand up, I might get killed. But to us, behind this wheel, it’s pretty safe. So to us, Iraq is a safe country. Right here, I feel pretty safe. Do you feel safe?”

I hummed, having never thought about it that way before. “Yeah, I feel safe.” A bullet flew past us and hit the humvee just a bit behind ours, dinging onto the car door. I jumped and chuckled, adjusting the helmet on my head.

“Safe-ish.” I corrected and Fick chuckled.

“It’s all relative.” Nick patted my shoulder once more and crawled back towards Brad. I watched him and scribbled down what he said, his words ringing in my head.

This war was crazy and unnecessary, and I could only imagine everyone’s reactions when my book finally comes out.

I felt safe, though, as Nate said when I was with him. These guys were smart and knew what they were doing, and while I wasn’t one of them, they treated me as if I was.

The one time I was really terrified for my life was in Baghdad. I had to run from these snipers, and I was going after the others.

Nate and Brad went first, showing me how I was supposed to do it. I took a deep breath and went in a zigzag pattern like I had seen in movies before to try and confuse the snipers.

When I finally arrived to the safe spot behind the wall, Nate and Brad were cracking up, and Ray could barely keep it together.

“What?” I asked, catching my breath.

“Jesus, reporter.” Ray laughed, “What the hell was that?”

I blushed heavily and tried to keep it together. While I had just done something very embarrassing, it felt safe to me. At least I survived that hellscape.

Chapter Text

It doesn’t make any sense. I love Daisy, don’t I? So why do I care so much about having Nick there? Why do I always feel so drawn to him?

Gatsby sighed as he paced around his mansion, trying to make sense of his racing thoughts. He felt so amazed by his neighbor, but always told himself he liked Daisy.

Maybe I’m simply saying that because it makes sense…the only person I’ve ever loved is her after all.

Jay stopped at the giant window on the second floor and stared down at Nick’s home. They had tea there with Daisy a few days ago, but it was rainy and while it went well, it didn’t feel completely right to him.

Today, though, was a beautiful sunny day. The sun was shining with no clouds in the sky, and the air was crisp and nice.

Taking a deep breath, Jay decided to pay Nick a visit.

-

“Jay?” Nick raised an eyebrow as he saw his neighbor. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course, old sport.” Jay chuckled, opening the door wider. He saw that Nick had gotten rid of most of the plants from the other day, so it was a good thing he had ordered more.

He snapped and the houseworker behind him walked in holding two bouquets of flowers and decorating them in a giant vase nicely.

“Is Daisy coming by again? I wasn’t aware.” Nick said, observing what was happening.

“Why no, what had you thinking that?” Jay tilted his head, confused at his friend’s suggestion.

“The flowers…” Nick pointed to them and Jay laughed.

“No, no, those are for you! I wanted to come by for some quick tea and these are just a nice housewarming gift.”

“I see.” Nick slowly nodded and walked to the kitchen, grabbing out the kettle.

Jay followed him, waving off the houseworker to return to his mansion. He sat down at the small tea table, watching his friend.

“Did something happen with Daisy?” Nick asked, curious at the spontaneous visit.

“No.” Jay said simply, folding the small napkins into mini origami cranes.

“Did something happen at all?” Nick walked over, leaning against the doorway.

“Nothing at all. I just wanted to see you, old sport.” Jay smiled, blushing slightly at how that sounded. He glanced away, not noticing the way Nick’s cheeks lit up a bit.

“Well…” Nick cleared his throat, calming down his slightly faster heart rate, “I don’t mind the company.”

The kettle in the kitchen began to whistle and Nick ran back over to it, pouring the hot water into two cups and throwing tea bags into them.

“Did you want any cake?” Nick asked from the other room.

“None needed.” Jay waved him off, “That’s not necessary.”

Nick stepped into the room and handed Jay one cup before sitting across from him.

“Thank you, old sport.” Jay nodded to him, blowing on the drink before taking a sip.

“So,” Jay lowered his cup, “How is the bond business going?”

The dark haired male shrugged, stirring the sugar in his drink. “It’s nothing fantastic, but it helps me pay the bills.”

“I hear that.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you inherited your money.”

Jay coughed slightly on his drink and he plastered on a smile. “Yes, yes I did. I was just um…saying how I understand by hearing those stories from my father…”

Nick slowly nodded, and Jay knew his lies wouldn’t last him long. Not like he wanted to keep making these lies anyways. Oh how he died to see the day where he could finally tell Nick everything.

Why…that day could be today.

“Nick.” Jay quickly said, and Nick raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?” He tilted his head.

“I want to tell you the truth.” Jay said, putting his hand over the table, and their hands touching slightly.

The two males blushed and averted their gazes, pulling back slightly.

“The truth about where you got your money?” Nick sat up, wanting to know his story.

“Yes…yes, the truth about everything. I don’t to keep you hiding in the dark where you only know the rumors.” Jay smiled and Nick returned it, wanting his friend to feel comfortable.

Chapter Text

When I first met Snafu, I was intimidated by him. Most of us replacements were. He didn’t seem to abide by the rules and he didn’t care if he knew us or not.

With Sidney gone, I was a bit worried about what would happen. I thought he would show me the ropes, but now I was stuck scrubbing bins next to this crackhead.

He lit his cigarette next to a no smoking sign and leaned back on the pole, sighing as he folded his arms. He peeked an eye open and we made eye contact.

I quickly averted my gaze and got back to scrubbing on the bin, wanting him to stop staring at me.

“Hey,” He said, pointing to me, “what’s your name?”

“Sledge.” I said, standing up a bit straighter. The other replacements glanced at us, but stayed quiet.

“Sledge?” Snafu repeated, his accent slurring the d and g together. He chuckled to himself and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “Where you from, Sledgehammer?”

I was surprised at the nickname, but I didn’t mind it. I didn’t know replacements got nicknames besides the rude ones. Maybe I was getting taken under his wing in some sort of way.

“Mobile, Alabama.” I repeated, picturing my family’s home.

“Nice place there, Mobile?” Snafu asked, leaning on the bin I was supposed to be cleaning.

“I mean, it’s home.” I shrugged, pausing my scrubbing and looking at him.

He gave me a crooked grin, and I slowly returned it.

Befriending Snafu meant having a strong man by my side. He was feared by some of the others, partly because of how unforgiving he was. Ever since he stole a dead Jap’s gold teeth, people began to keep a sort of distance.

He stayed close to me, however, and I didn’t mind. He was annoying, but that’s how friendships were.

“Sledge.” Snafu put his hand on my shoulder, making me face him.

“Are my eyes yellow? Your dad’s a doctor right?” He said, leaning in close.

My eyes widened and I felt my face heat up as I pushed him away.

“Your eyes aren’t yellow, Snafu.” I mumbled, turning away so he couldn’t see my face.

“You sure?” He blinked a few times and frowned. “I feel like they are.”

“How can you feel what color your eyes are?” I chuckled, turning back to face him.

“I dunno…just a feelin’.”

“Uh huh.” I rolled my eyes. “Well I’m feelin’ like you’re going crazy.”

He snorted and shoved my shoulder. I laughed and shoved him back, both of us smiling stupidly at each other.

It was times like these I was sort of grateful for having a friend like him. Someone who was like a brother to me. Others were scared of him, sure, but I knew what he was truly like.

I knew that when push came to shove, he’d be there for us.

Chapter Text

“I want to tell you the truth.” Jay said, putting his hand over the table, and their fingers touching slightly.

The men blushed and averted their gazes, pulling back slightly.

“The truth about where you got your money?” Nick sat up, wanting to know his story.

“Yes…yes, the truth about everything. I don’t to keep you hiding in the dark where you only know the rumors.” Jay smiled and Nick returned it, wanting his friend to feel comfortable.

“You know, you don’t have to if you don’t- “

“No, I need to.” Jay cut him off.

“Need to?”

Jay sighed, “It’s not right for me to keep such a good friend in the shadows.”

Nick couldn’t help but smile. “That’s very kind of you.”

Jay returned the smile, and Nick felt himself blush slightly. Oh how he loved that smile. It was unlike any he’d ever seen, even from his own mother. It made him feel a certain way as well, which he could only ever describe as relieving.

“So…” Nick continued, “can I ask about the rumors?”

“Ah yes.” Jay leaned back, “Tell me, what have you heard?”

“I heard that you’re Prussian royalty.”

Jay tried not to spit out his tea and laughed. It was the first time Nick had ever heard such a hearty laugh come from Gatsby.

Nick cracked a smile, enjoying the fact that he was able to make Jay feel happy.

“Really?” Jay asked, “I haven’t heard that one before. Bootlegger, sure.”

“Are you actually a bootlegger?” Nick raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his tea.

Jay’s smile faltered a bit and he cleared his throat, mumbling to himself that he wasn’t going to keep any secrets. He then nodded and folded his hands on the table, his cup set in front of him.

“Yes…yes, I am.” Jay said hesitantly. He looked into Nick’s eyes for any sign of disappointment or disgust, but he was instead met with understanding.

“You’re not surprised?” The blonde tilted his head.

“No.” Nick shook his head. “Why would I be? It only makes sense, after all. I mean, where else would you get your money? Plus, your secrets weren’t really adding up.”

Jay sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know, I fumbled a lot around you. Please, though, don’t tell Daisy yet.”

“Course not, that’s your story to tell.” Nick said a bit bitterly. He didn’t want to be reminded of Jay’s other lover during such a nice conversation.

Jay seemed to notice Nick’s change in demeanor and cleared his throat, changing the subject.

“What about you? Are you really here to sell bonds?” Jay asked, curious.

“Yes. Why would I lie about that?” Nick pondered.

“Oh you know, sometimes people lie about stuff to make themselves sound more lavish.”

“Well I can tell you that selling bonds is not lavish.” Nick chuckled, and Jay laughed.

“So did you get all your money from the bootleg business?” The brunette asked.

Jay’s smile faded a bit. “No…no, I got some from an old friend of mine.” Jay took a deep breath and continued. “His name was Dan Cody, and he had me work for him on this cruise that he owned. He died after around five years of me working with him, and I got around twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“You didn’t inherit it?”

“My parents were farmers.”

“Oh.” Nick’s eyes widened and Jay sighed, nodding.

“I left as soon as I turned eighteen, and soon after Cody died I joined the war.” Jay slowly lifted his gaze once more, smiling at Nick. “And I remember seeing you in a small town in France.”

Nick nodded, remembering their first conversation. “Yes, I’m surprised you recognized me. I only bought you some food from the pub.”

“Well sometimes,” Jay slowly put his hand on top of Nick’s, “we like to remember the faces of those who brightened our day. Especially in such a gray and rainy time.”

Nick’s face went red and he felt a bit of hope inside his chest as he focused on this moment with Jay. The moment where all of Jay’s attention was on him, and not the girl across the bay.

I wonder if she even means as much to him as he claims. Nick thought. Besides, actions speak a lot louder than words.

Nick glanced at their hands, his heart thumping loud as he felt Jay squeeze his hand gently.

So much louder.

Chapter Text

I stepped out of my parent’s home, walking through the nearby forest until I reached a tiny creek. I kneeled down, picking up a pebble. The moss on it seemed to glow in the moonlight.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I remembered playing in this exact place when I was younger. I was so imaginative, and I wanted to see the world and all that it was.

And now that I have, I return here to tell myself that it is nothing like I imagined.

I felt my hand tighten around the rock as I held it close to my chest as if my life depended on it.

The past summer consisted of me growing close to someone I thought could be a friend before watching him die. And then, everyone disappeared without a trace, never caring about him or his life.

They destroyed his world and left as if it was never their fault. Daisy and Tom fled to Chicago, Daisy acting like she didn’t have anything to with it when it was all because of her.

I sighed and opened my eyes once more, staring at my reflection in the water. I threw the pebble down the creek, watching as it skipped a little before resting into the ground.

It looked as though there was a faint green light through the water from the rock, and I stared at it for a long time, remembering the first time I met Gatsby.

He didn’t deserve what happened. No one did. If only I knew to stop that crazy merry-go-round before it started.

I saw a small ripple in the water and I glanced down. I narrowed my eyes, feeling like I saw someone. I shook my head and sighed, knowing I was probably losing myself in my own mind.

My parents were on the back porch, trying to look for me. I took a deep breath and started walking towards my home. Despite that, I still felt trapped in my memories from West Egg, as if it had a tight grip on me that would never loosen.

-

Jay stood by the creek next to Nick, watching him leave. He glanced back at the water, wondering if his friend had seen him. Nothing.

He floated towards the rock that Nick skipped down the creek and he saw the faint glow. He frowned deeply and he lifted his head when he heard a door shut.

He passed through the trees and saw that the Carraway’s were back inside. He joined them in their nice cabin and sat down on the armchair across from Nick.

His mother was making him tea and his father was helping unpack some of his son’s things. Mrs. Carraway handed Nick a cup of tea, and he thanked her quietly.

It was silent for a few minutes before his mother asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about. Anything at all.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He sighed and shook his head, not knowing how to even begin.

“Nick.”

They lifted their gazes, and Jay’s eyes widened as he saw what Mr. Carraway was holding. Nick also seemed surprised, and he quickly grabbed the paper from his father’s grasp.

“What is that, Nick?” Mrs. Carraway asked.

“Nothing, just something I forgot to toss.” Nick mumbled, shoving it in his jacket pocket.

Jay frowned, standing up and walking towards Nick. He put a hand on his shoulder, seeing that Nick was still gripping onto the invitation in his pocket.

“I’m so sorry.” Jay whispered, knowing that no one could hear him. “I wish I never dragged you into any of this.”

He glanced back at Nick’s parents, seeing how kind and open they were. Nick didn’t deserve to face what he did, and Jay wished there was some way for him to take all that pain away.

If only he never sent that letter…

Chapter Text

Some days, I cannot tell what is real and what is fake.

I know I am still not over her. I think about her constantly. But then there’s you. There’s always been you.

We got along so well, but I read too much into it and failed.

I thought it was okay, because she still wanders my mind, but that doesn’t stop you from popping up every now and then.

Even now, when you’re miles away, you seem so close. You say I’m the closest friend you have, and it’s the same for me, yet it’s impossible for me to only see you in that light.

I let myself be open to the pain she caused me as I try and figure out what step to take. I constantly curse myself for even thinking of apologizing just to see her smile again and hear her laugh at my jokes, because I know all that will really happen is more pain.

No one knows the full story. I never let everyone in. But I plan on calling you soon and finally letting myself break down.

Maybe that’s the key to all of this.

I finally open up about it all and figure it out from there. I have many options at school, and I know I can probably get almost anyone I want, but I’m hesitant.

Even if I date someone, will I truly be able to get over all of this?

Will I stop thinking about her and stop remembering her when there are beats of silence in my life?

Will my heart stop racing when I see you end your letters with the words “love you”?

Some days I feel emptier than others, and those days often remind me of how little I open up to people. It makes me want to cry, wondering what happened.

I sometimes get close to friending her again and apologizing before remembering just how toxic we really were to each other.

Maybe I’m simply tricking myself into loving you to get over her. So will opening up truly do anything to fix that?

Or will it open a deep wound that cannot truly be healed until I am able to forgive myself?

I like to think I forgave myself months ago for what happened. That I took fault and grew, but I know deep down I didn’t.

Yet you’re still there to try and reassure me, to write me poems about how there’s always an open door to talk to you. That there’s always someone I can go to even when the world feels so suffocating like it does right now.

And still, I hesitate.

I choose to suffer every single day with these thoughts of her, of you, and wonder why I can’t just forget everything and start over completely.

God…what the fuck is wrong with me?

Chapter Text

“This is it.”

Snafu glanced at his ginger haired friend. The two stood in front of the train, watching as some of the others boarded.

“This is it.” Snafu repeated before grinning, burying his sentimental feelings. “Come on, Sledgehammer, it’s not like you’re gonna miss me that much.”

Sledge chuckled and elbowed him. “As if. It’ll be great to finally get rid of you.”

Snafu laughed and ruffled his hair, following him onto the train.

-

“I suppose it is.” Rosie sighed, folding his hands over his knees.

“Hard to believe that after all that…I’m expected to go home and be a father.” Crosby sighed, a blank look in his eyes.

Rosie frowned and sat up. “Surely it must be exciting.”

Crosby shrugged, not answering at first as he got lost in his own thoughts. “It’s hard, you know? Doing this for so many years, constantly wishing it was over and now that it is…”

-

“It’s hard to believe.” Babe took a deep breath, smiling slightly at Malarkey.

“Feels like some wild dream.” Malarkey shook his head.

The two men shared a bunk together on the boat, Babe climbing to the top. The others were starting to fill the nearby beds. It was just as loud as it was before, but there was an empty feeling.

A feeling like ghosts were around, watching them. The two gingers made eye contact, and Babe saw the frown that seemed etched in Malarkey’s face.

“Don,” Babe leaned off his bunk so Malarkey could hear him, “are you ready to go back home?” He offered him a weak smile.

Malarkey eventually smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Sure, Babe…it’ll be nice to see everyone.”

-

“It’ll be nice though…to finally get away from all of this.” Evan said, talking to Brad.

“Should be.” Brad sighs, nodding a bit. “It’ll be different, that’s for sure. Just look around…all these men were prepared to shoot someone at any given moment, and now we’re expected to be normal citizens again.”

Evan scribbled down what he said, but he maintained eye contact.

“You’ve done this before, right? You served in Afghanistan.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

-

Sledge watched as Snafu ate his dinner, and he asked the question that had been eating at him the past few minutes. “What are you gonna do when you get back?”

“Don’t know…” Rosie sighed, leaning back, “I was training people back in Florida, so I may go back there but this time just relax. What about you?”

“I’m gonna try and meet up with Bill again.” Babe said, a smile on his face. “He lives only a few blocks away from my place, and we agreed to meet up as soon as this finished.”

“I have no plans yet.” Brad sighed, turning to face the reporter. “But I know for damn sure that this will be the last war I’m gonna step foot in.”