Work Text:
Going Home
Nix went home first, which left Dick with a sense of emptiness the likes of which he had never known. He felt hollow, like his soul and heart had left him, and he prayed that Nix made it home safe. He had witnessed too many deaths after the war ended to not fear losing Nix to some catastrophe. He knew if Nix ever went through his diary and read what he wrote he’d never hear the end of it, but he really did need to read that prose at some point. He needed to know the impact he had on him, in presence and in absence.
Especially after his goodbye was “Look, I got to go home and get divorced real quick, so just bring your appetite with you when you come to Jersey, okay? ”
Prose, not so much.
To go home the U.S. troops were demobilized and sent home on ships, stuffed really, to get them ‘Home alive by ‘45’. Operation Magic Carpet, another testament to the staffer who was creative enough to be trusted with all their operation code names, was going to be the most complicated en mass transport of the war. Possibly ever. 22,000 men a day, more in some instances, were being shipped home. He knew it was going to be impossible to be on the same ship home as Lew, even if Nix managed to somehow be by his side for most of the war.
To make matters worse, Nix told him not to worry about the long days on the Atlantic packed like a sardine on an air craft carrier. He casually mentioned that his own grandfather participated in the inquiry into the Titanic disaster and was the one to help pass legislation requiring safety measures like slower speeds and more lifeboats.
Nix, you’re going home on an aircraft carrier with 22,000 other soldiers which is in no way equipped with enough lifeboats or going slow.
Laughter and more assurances he’d be fine. Not reassuring. And now he had this image of a first class passenger on the deck of the Titanic, singing with the band and drinking his Vat69 in finest tux as the ship plummeted to its final resting place.
At least the image provided him with a fantasy of seeing Nix in a tux at some point.
Without the war to occupy his mind, Dick was already struggling with what to do with a brain that never shut down. Sleep interrupted by nightmares of a different variety. An ache of loneliness, an empty bed, and the knowledge that everything can and could go wrong.
So he worried like an anxious lover waiting for the message Lew was safe and sound, reading the intelligence bulletins for mentions of the ship he left on, and praying a lot. A lot more than he had when they were in Bastogne. He began to wonder if that was even appropriate, God please take care of his man who I love with every fiber of my being and have no idea how to live with or without .
He took comfort in Speirs friendship, as that man was in no way handling Lip’s departure as well as he was handling seeing Nix off. They had already become close, but now they ran together in the morning in silence to just try to answer the question: How was the worst part of the war going home ?
Dick wasn’t quite sure what to expect of New Jersey, but it certainly wasn’t Nix standing in front of a car in civilian clothes, clean shaven, looking like he was going to walk up and kiss him. He didn’t get kissed, but he got a hug and lifted off the ground and spun around. He looked good, looked optimistic, wasn’t leaking Vat69 out of his pores, and they held each other longer than was necessary. Nobody cared, back home everyone had the same idea: Let’s get out of here before someone changes their mind.
Except for Nix.
“Let’s get you food.”
And they were off on a whirlwind tour of everything he should not be eating when returning home from war after eating nothing but army food for years. And New Jersey’s food did not spare the fat or grease, it might have been considered seasoning for all he knew. He was more intimate with the toilet than Nix for the first week, which allowed for them to figure out exactly how to handle being stateside.
He met Nix’s father and immediately knew the kind of man he was. He could work for him, nothing could be worse than working under Sobel, but this man was the spoiled entitled rich kid that Nix was worried he was. Stanhope Nixon wasn’t good with people, numbers, or keeping it a secret that he had two mistresses. Dick made sure to tell him how Nix was a fine officer, a great man, and he was only interested in the management position because of that. He got a job offer, but he wasn’t sure this was where Nix should be.
That was reinforced by having dinner with Stanhope. It was nice to see the pictures on the wall of Nix, portraits of him and his sister, wedding photos of Mr. and Mrs. Nixon, and some trophies the dog won. It was what was expected of a family home, but there was no warmth there. Nix’s Mom was not there, having taken up residence on the other side of the country from her husband, which spoke volumes.
They stole Nix’s dog that night and set a course for Lancaster, Pa. Taking Nix home with him, well, his parents wouldn’t read into it. They’d feed him something that wouldn’t leave his body immediately and it was a stop on their tour of America. He had to remind himself of a promise he made to settle down and live in peace, and he felt at peace with Nix. Even if he lived a lot faster than him, which just seemed to be another by product of New Jersey.
Life with Nix was going to be completely different than anything he had experienced in war or peace. That helped. It helped to know they were carving out something different, something unique, and never expected to fit back in. Nix didn’t need to work and the job offer was strictly to keep Dick occupied and close. That didn’t answer how he was going to settle into civilian life with Nix, who was his complete opposite. Finding the in-between, where their lives could collide without being in a war, that was going to be the challenge. But no better time to talk about it than a drive at night across New Jersey and Pennsylvania after stealing a prize pheasant dog.
“Are we there yet?” Nix whined as they drove west for what seemed like forever.
“We are heading to Easton which is not exactly a direct route from Nixon to Lancaster.” Dick said as he saw another road sign advertising they were going the wrong way.
“That means nothing.” Lew snorted. “Do you think I look at maps ?”
Dick loved it, the sarcasm that just flowed through them in every conversation. Hell, it even seemed to be present in the looks they gave each other and there had been a lot of looks between them at dinner at Stanhope’s house. “I thought you were a world traveler?”
“It’s Pennsylvania," Nix scoffed, "There is a reason Washington crossed the Delaware to get out of it.”
“There’s a reason he thought New Jersey was a great place to spend ammunition.”
“Well, I have a surprise for you.”
“That we’re lost?” Dick asked and Nix just grinned at him with a 'you’ll see' look. His dog kept snoring in the back seat; Biscuit, the English Springer Spaniel, who had papers and pedigree just like his owner.
“You just don’t know the way.”
“I believe Route 1 would have been a better choice?” There was truth in Nix’s statement because he didn’t really know the way home . Not how to get to Lancaster, but there was a feeling of disconnect from what should be a relief to go back to normal life and a feeling of not knowing how. It was surreal, being home and feeling like this was a dream. He felt like he’d wake up and he’d be in Europe somewhere. Maybe dead, because this felt too good to be true. Nix didn’t exactly give him time to think on it until now, which he assumed was by design. If he had come home alone, he probably would have locked himself in his room for a week and not spoken to anyone. He didn’t even know what to talk about, because saying ‘ I missed you so damned much it hurt’ sounded really gay.
They talked about mundane things, things that Nix was used to relaying to the troops about home. Which movies were out, politics, they probably should have gone south because that was where the Pork Roll factory was. Did you know the first movie industry was in New Jersey where the first silents were made and…also blew up in a huge fire a few years ago?
Nix knew how to coax a smile out of him.
And it felt like home. Just banter, light conversation that didn’t require decisions. Teasing Nix about the decisions he did make because they were on the wrong road to their destination. But ‘it wasn’t about the destination, it was about the journey’, and taking this northern route was on purpose; so he couldn’t anticipate anything and could relax. It worked and the miles flew by without him looking at names of familiar towns and mentally calculating how long it would be until the one he knew was up next. Instead of looking at the very specific stone bridge architecture and rolling hills on the drive between Philly and Lancaster, he saw the headlights on the road and a man who had clearly planned this operation.
He looked at Nix most of the time because it was dark out. He lines of his jaw, the creases of his smirk and the glint of mischievousness in his eye. He looked less weary, excited even, and his energy kept them both wide awake.
They crossed over into Pennsylvania then it was on to Allentown and Nix pulled into a railyard. It was close to midnight. He drove up to an old Pullman Car and parked. Excited, he got out, let his dog out and met with the railroad employee. He let his dog go first and waved for Dick to join him, then swung off the old car handrail while the porter got their luggage. “Going my way?”
Dick followed him, appreciating the old rail car and the romantic gesture even if it took them out of their way. “Wherever the train takes me.”
Lew was delighted and held out his hand to pull Dick up. “You asked for the romance.”
Dick was without words, because Nix had clearly been planning this for a while. There was no way this car from last century was ready to go at a moment's notice and Nix was just bubbling with excitement to talk about it. “You got this out of storage for me ?”
“This was my grandfather’s car.” Nix nodded and went into the Pullman, holding the door for Dick as he did. Biscuit was already on the velvet couch and licking himself, which probably meant he pissed on something. “I loved this thing as a kid. He kept it on a sidling over by the Raritan armory as a show of prestige, a statement of just how damned rich he was, and how far back the Nixon family line went. Then the 1924 disaster happened and the fire almost spread to the train cars at the armory and he decided to put it in storage. I had them clean it out and hook it up, the Reading Railroad goes to Lancaster not the Lehigh, otherwise I would have had it waiting in Perth Amboy when you came home. We could have switched trains once we got to Allentown but I didn’t want my Dad asking questions and thought the drive would do you good. Plus I wanted to take the car so we could get food you'd shit out immediately.”
If it didn’t hit him that the Nixon family was rich yet, this did it; A custom Pullman car complete with velvet interior sitting room, carved mahogany bar, and what looked like a bedroom in the back. This car was fit for a king and was still quite a statement; a statement that Nix was making that he wanted to have privacy and spoil him. It meant a lot. “This is incredible, Nix.”
Lew smiled as he went to the bar and ran his hand over it and realized he hadn’t been nursing the bottle much recently. “Dinner should be here in an hour if you want to get comfortable?”
“Comfortable.” Dick repeated as the dog made the only sound in the car, sloppily licking his balls.
That made Nix start laughing ,laughing uncontrollably, as he went back to the sleeping area and wondered if old grandpa was rolling in his grave over this. “Naked. So I can show you exactly how much I missed you and how turned on I was by you singing my praises to my asshole father. So yeah, comfortable inside me. ”
An hour later he was in the shower using what looked like gold plated fixtures and enjoying hot water running over his face and sore body. They definitely made up for some lost time and he wasn’t the only one who missed doing his best friend. He toweled off and threw clothes on, ready to have something to eat that wasn’t going to punish him for eating it. Second dinner, not that the first dinner was bad, but the host wasn’t great and tainted the meal. Stanhope made Dick feel protective of Nix, and he knew there would be stories of his best friend's childhood someday to make him want to do more than brag on his best friend in defense. Right now, Nix was showing his rich boy side as there was prime rib, lobster tails and wine on the table. A menu of decadence after midnight, someone had been paid well to have this ready for Lewis Nixon III’s arrival. “Wow.”
“I kept it simple.”
Simple . Oh, Nix was going to find out how simple food could be when his Mom served homemade chicken and noodles upon their arrival. “I think we have different definitions of that word.”
“Too much?” Nix asked.
“No, I’m flattered.” Dick sat down and looked around, “I really am.”
“You just didn’t quite realize how spoiled I was.”
“You’re not spoiled, Nix.” He said, and picked up his plates and sat down next to him at the table instead of at the other end. “You grew up in a different world than me and I appreciate you sharing it.”
“You’ve been avoiding telling me why you didn’t accept my Dad’s offer immediately. Did he lowball you?”
“No.” Dick said. “He lowballed you .”
“Well…” He reached for the wine and Dick put his hand on his.
“Your grandfather was a very accomplished man. Building boats, industry, bridges. Supplying the war effort, dabbling in politics and accumulating wealth. It’s written all over the walls of the office in Nixon; photos of him and paintings of ships, commendations and newspaper articles. There are even paintings of his parents to show he’s descended from military men. A confederate officer who rode with Mosby. It’s a shadow that’s hard to live in and clearly your father felt that shadow’s weight on him. Probably more so because I couldn't help but notice you’re Lewis Nixon the third and your father is not the second . You were weighed with that name because someone else couldn't carry the torch.”
“You got that from a twenty minute interview and an awkward dinner?” Lew asked incredulously, warmed by the afterglow of sex still but basking in Dick’s proximity and brilliance.
“I know you , I know what you hate about yourself, and it’s written all over the walls of that company and your father’s home.”
“Well, I’m a momma’s boy.”
“I didn’t accept the offer yet because I don’t like how he treats you. I hate how he’s so dismissive of you. I don’t want to condemn you to hiding even more of yourself in Nixon, I don’t like the person you have to be there.”
“You mean diluting my blood with alcohol?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.” He retracted his hand from the glass and squeezed Dick’s arm, thanking him for explaining what his problem was other than ‘I am what is expected of me’. “Remember when I got the offer to be plucked out of the war? Me? The one person in the division chosen out of everyone? Probably the only guy who never shot his gun?”
“I can see that wasn’t a stroke of luck now.”
“My Mom. Dad too. Lot’s of political pull. I got my name in the paper for enlisting, because that was free publicity for the company. Mom didn’t want her baby boy dying in the mud, Dad needed someone to carry on the family name.” Lew said, why that moment came back to him now, he didn’t know, but he could taste that air like they were still in that frozen hell. He stared at the lit candle on the table and remembered the tension he purposely created in Bastogne of all places, when Dick was shaving with water that probably froze on his face. Why the hell did he do that?
“You didn’t leave though.” Dick reminded him, speaking because Nix got that far off look he recognized, the look of being drawn in by memories.
“I was supposed to come home, get paraded around and sell war bonds.” Lew looked at his prime rib getting cold. “And when I told you, I acted like I was going to take it because I wanted to see how you’d react.”
“I wanted you safe, selfishly.” Dick shrugged and took his hand back to fiddle with his utensils, so many utensils. “Selfishly, I reacted first to the thought of losing you as if you were even supposed to be out there with us. We got the living hell shelled out of us and nothing hit as hard as the thought of not seeing you everyday. Seeing you shivering and miserable in a foxhole as death rained down on us from everywhere, I wanted you anywhere else but couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you.”
“I know, and I never was going to leave you. I felt like I was holding a live grenade, but it worked out alright. You needed it, go rid of Peacock.” He could remember the still air around them as he watched Dick read that paper, and watched him forget the shaving cream still on his jaw. When did Dick Winters ever not shave perfectly? When did he ever leave a touch of hair or cream on his face? Never. Nix watched him do it every morning. Yet reading that memo made his brain come full stop. He remembered how he put both hands on his scarf, tugged it after wiping that cream off, making his heart skip a beat and breath catch. Because it was totally normal to be making something of how his best friend’s hands tightened around a wool scarf.
“You need to eat before this gets cold.”
Cold. Because talking about those days in hell would never send a shiver down his spine and make him remember how ‘cold’ was completely redefined in that dirt. Things were getting too serious so he cracked a joke, “I’m honest to God afraid to feed you at this point because my romantic getaway might be for nothing.”
“Every gesture is appreciated, I wish you could appreciate it as much as I do.”
“Where do you want to go if not New Jersey?” Nix asked and cut into his prime rib. “I mean, we have so much to offer it’s only a matter of time before something else explodes. They keep unloading munitions over in South Amboy, I bet it's a matter of time before that blows.”
“I don’t know, but you’ve served your time and don’t need to go back to Nixon. That next thing to blow is going to be your Dad’s temper, and I won’t be able to stand idly by and watch him talk down to you. Maybe I’ll blow first, he really pushed me tonight and that’s saying something after how many years of war?”
“Ever see California?”
“With the way you read maps, I’m not going to be surprised if I wake up tomorrow looking at the Pacific.” Dick said with a teasing smile as he sank his teeth into the best damned slice of beef he had ever had in his life.
To his surprise, Lew loved Lancaster. It had an old town charm complete with a friendlier atmosphere, which made him realize how combative most New Jerseyians naturally were. It made him experience what Dick was thinking about when he said ‘live on a farm in peace’. Beautiful place and his parents were just perfect and loving people. It was a place to slow down and enjoy life.
Which is why it hurt to see the looks on their faces knowing the war changed their son. Pictures on the wall of their family, only son, and absolute pride and joy. Dick used his salary to pay off the mortgage on the house for them. They were so damned proud and Dick Winters was the one man in the world who never wrote home about himself. They knew all about his friend Lew, but not about Dick’s accomplishments unless it was in the paper.. So, Nix told them the good stuff. In full color. Because they deserved to swell with pride over their son, a true hero.
It was such a contrast to how things went with Stanhope and it hurt to see Dick retreating into himself the same way he did at his own dinner table.
Talking Dick up to his folks, well he got to edit out the worst details on the fly. Gory stuff, not the ‘well I spent so much time drunk I got demoted’ stuff. It was a showcase of exactly how different they were and it made him retrace the steps from when they first met, to when they parted ways to come home. How Dick Winters at the beginning would have never told his men to lie about a patrol, how he didn’t feel the touch of knees on that train like it was intended, how he treated Lieutenant Jones without realizing that stick-up-my-ass officer used to be him.
Seeing his parents watch Dick, how the light left them a little as they watched their son go run a mile or ten for PT he didn’t have to do, hurt . Dick had been athletic prior to his service, so they had to have seen something different about his approach to it. Maybe that the joy had been drilled out of him? Maybe that he needed to run in the morning to clear out his lungs from nightmares that kept him awake at night? Screams that couldn't come out, burned by the pain of pushing your lungs a bit too far, something they couldn’t understand.
Lew wasn’t the only one who could never really go home. Dick would eventually wear down from trying to act fine in front of his parents, which would make them worry more. That was all the more evident when he came home later than usual one morning, quickly going to change before anyone could see he had muck and debris all over him.
“You find an airplane to jump out of without me?” Lew asked, leaning on the doorframe of Dick’s childhood bedroom. He could see the distress, even if his vitals weren’t radioing something being wrong. He had regained his composure, but something had happened. He moved in close, walls in this house were not thin but the Winters were not loud people and things carried well. “You okay?”
“Kid walked by me with a stick and rattled it on the fence and I…” Dick didn’t look at him, took a deep breath after pulling out a change of clothes and then looked out the window. “Hit the gutter. Without thinking. Just reacted.”
There was no shame in that, but it was evidence they needed to move on. Lew put his coffee cup on the dresser for him and gave him a squeeze of the shoulder in support. “Well, the conductor is giving me hell about keeping my antique Pullman on his tracks, so I better move it before he scraps it. I got to take you to Chicago, remember?”
Dick finally looked at him, wordless looks of thanks.
Chicago was a short stop as Nix managed to get into a fight about pizza and got them both bruises because of it. On the list of things he never thought possible, a black eye over how 'real' pizza isn't 'this thick crust bullshit '.
He also wasn’t expecting what the adrenaline from a bar fight would do to them, how he rode that high of a fight into a battle to get clothes off. How he lost control and absolutely had to have Nix without the usual passion.
It unlocked something in him he didn’t know was there, and Nix completely abandoned himself to it. It was a turn in their relationship post-war from careful to carnal and it felt like he was able to let go of demons. Let go of this image he was trying to maintain that had no place in their relationship. Want and desire and lack of control and something he would have been ashamed of if Nix wasn’t completely and unabashedly begging him to not stop. Fueling his passion, pushing him further to a place he would have never gone otherwise.
Not that he didn’t follow up hours later with the most unforgiving worship of Nix’s body. They could be both, they could absolutely fall to pieces together and it would be fine. He could do without Nix looking for a fight to provoke him into doing that again.
Seeing America by rail, or at least in a luxury passenger car that got hitched to a new line whenever needed, was perfect. There was no need to hide what they eyes were saying, it was isolated and familiar enough to reintroduce him back into civilian life and Nix was sentimental and kind of innocent when riding in the Pullman. The trip helped them find themselves outside of any expectations.
They changed from rail line to rail line in Chicago, taking the Milwaukee Road coal line through the Dakotas. Beautiful and unlike anything he had seen. Endless horizon and not many stops. There was a playful suggestion from Nix to let him attempt to help him let go of his need to control everything .; that maybe it was time to stop being in charge ?
Dick didn’t realize he was doing that. Nix was asking because he saw it was holding him back, not because he wasn’t enjoying himself. It made him ask himself if this was a mold he was forcing himself to stay in, because letting go might be what caused him to shatter. Nix must have felt the same because they made it to the Dakotas before he asked. He trusted him, with Nix he’d do anything. He nodded and accepted the offer, mind racing to study his own reactions to see if he could let someone else lead for a while. If it was Nix, yes. A resounding yes. It helped. It gave him another reason he’d never be able to live without Nix. Intimacy he had never known possible, trust that ran deep and someone who loved him and knew him so well he took him away from all the expectations he had weighed himself down with.
He slept well that night. No nightmares, no mind running unchecked and second guessing every decision he ever made. Slept in Nix’s arms, wrapped in strength and love and a man who was on a cross country journey to help him find a way home.
So when they arrived in San Francisco to meet Nix's Mom, it was like stepping out into a whole new world. It was a different coast and could not be more different than New Jersey. Which was why his Mom kept trying to drag her baby boy out here. And Nix was definitely a momma's boy.
"He's in love with you." Doris Nixon said the second she got Dick alone.
It was a statement, and a question all in one. Dick didn't flinch. "It's mutual."
"Good. I knew it when he refused to come home."
It was that ticket home, a lifeline from Mom. "I would have been happy to know he was safe. Right now, I don't want him to go home to Nixon."
"Stay."
"I don't think we know what our place is, yet.". Dick admitted.
"I have a place in Santa Barbara.". Nix said as he came back from walking his dog.
"Lewis, stay for a while. I don't care if you use the spare bedroom." Doris said and gave Biscuit a scone for being such a good boy.
"Subtle, mom."
"You get it honest." Dick shrugged, warm smile because Nix was home with her.
“We’re planning to start a company together.”
“Doing what?”
“Don’t know.”
“Where?”
“Don’t know.”
“Lewis,” Doris said. “Stay for a while.”
“We should.” Dick gave permission to take a break from travel and just let Nix enjoy being spoiled by his mother. The way she said ‘Lewis’ and the way he reacted to that, made him feel like a time traveler, seeing a glimpse of the man he was before war got ahold of him. He wanted to see more of that, and never see how he avoided eye contact with Stanhope again. It made him think of names again and decided Doris was the one to ask. “I have a question.”
“Anything.” She replied.
“How is Lew, Lewis Nixon the third and his father not the second?”
“Well, Stanhope’s older brother didn’t make it to adulthood. Yes, names like that usually carry down a direct male line, but my father-in-law wanted his name carried down. So he insisted when Lewis came along that he be named after him.”
Made sense. Especially with what he had gathered in Nixon. Dick continued. “ Stanhope is an old name, kind of a departure from Lewis. Only reference I have heard of that is a horse carriage one of the Amish elders used to drive and a town on the map in New Jersey.”
Dick watched that comment hit them both, and watched the two of them react in the exact same way. A little tilt of the head, squint of the eye as they considered it, and the wide eyed shock of a realization that Lewis Nixon either named his second son after a mode of transportation or a town. The laughter was synchronized and Dick just basked in it, yeah they should stay a while.
Dick saw how Nix could become the man he was, by watching him with his mother. Sure, she spoiled him, but she wasn’t bashful about bragging about his accomplishments and he learned about young Lew;. A boy who won a yachting competition, to a plane crash he survived, to her hero who jumped out of planes and won the war. She dragged them to social functions, which allowed him to see how good Lew did look in a Tux, and bragged on both of them. Being close to her brought out a warmth in Lew that he liked seeing, and he also liked seeing him in a Tux and out of it, so they stayed for more than a while in California. And when Doris filed for divorce from Stanhope later that year, it severed all reasons for Nix to return to Nixon.
Nix’s love for dogs also came from his Mom who founded Guide Dogs for the Blind, pairing guide dogs with blind veterans. It drew them both in, working with soldiers and their new companions. Doris also had other charities and organizations she worked for and needed someone to manage them. Dick felt working for her was a more fitting family job than trying to not harm her ex-husband who was destroying Nixon Nitration Works by not changing with the times. Eventually they agreed to just stay and call California home.
He flew home a few times a year to spend time with his folks, and eventually they caught on that Nix was a little more than a friend. It was probably because he vividly bragged on him when he did come home, since ‘humble Dick’ would never take credit for anything only he could do. Then it was always back to Jersey for some food before flying home. It eventually did manage to sit right with him and he even developed a taste for it, delighting Nix in only a way someone from Jersey could be thrilled with.
One beautiful morning he handed Nix his diary, let him read the words he had penned about him, expecting to get razzed about it. He wasn’t expecting Nix to cry, and he went over to read over his shoulder as tears botched the pages to see what he wrote that caused it.
“Dick, it’s you. This is beautiful.” Nix said, genuinely melted by his words.
It just was written from the heart and he had bared his heart and soul already. It took him a second to realize that it wasn’t about the way he felt, it was a diary he kept during the war. When he could have written about death and loss, but instead wrote about Nix and did so with love.
“Nixon departed Joigny the next week, making me about as lonesome as a lovesick sailor who married a Wave on an eight-hour pass.” Lew read and instantly a delighted smile came on his face. “Yeah, so why don’t you marry me already?”
“Even your money can’t buy that for us.” Dick reminded him and wondered if that was the emotion that started his tears flowing.
“Fuck everyone who thinks this beautiful thing between us isn’t worth being a part of. Their loss.” Nix took his feet off Dick’s desk and winked. He got down on one knee and looked for something he could use as a ring. He gave up, took his dog tags out of the desk drawer and held them up to Dick. “Dick Winters, will you marry me?”
“How?”
“This is a yes or no question, asshole.”
“Nix…”
“It’s a vow. Between me and you. We get up in front of the people that matter, who understand us. Take a vow. We don’t need a priest or a church, we just need each other. So, will you marry me? Make an honest man of me, would ya?”
Dick was still and felt like the world stopped. Sun shone down on them through the window, warm glow of light shining on Nix's face. “Yes.”
Lew stood up , leaned on his armrest and kissed him. Dick WInter’s brain stopping was one of those treasured moments he had come to relish. He put his dog tags over his head and let them rest on his chest and smiled. “Want to go to Europe for our honeymoon?”
“No.” Dick said and his brain started working as Lew ruffled his hair and laughed. “We can really do this?”
“Kind of feels like we already have, but no reason we can’t make this official. You wear my name and I’ll wear yours. We invite who we want to take an oath in front of and have a ceremony in my Mom’s living room. We’ve always been on our own to survive, I won’t be denied this because the world wants to pretend everything is by the book. I want it to be by this book.”
Nix handed him back his diary as he hovered over him and Dick looked at it, it wasn't finished. The diary needed an ending, to full close that chapter of his life.
“I guess you should start writing your vows with as long as you take to write them.”
Dick looked down at the dog tags and saw Lew's name catch in the sunlight from the window. Sun rising, hitting the raised metal name just right. It didn’t remind him of war or the weight of it around his neck, it reminded him of what he fought for. He was finally home. He smiled at him, opened his journal while Lew leaned over him. He penned the finally line, With Lew I found peace, because a shattered mirror could never be whole again but could create an incredible mosaic if paired with pieces of something else. And he closed it , tied it with a piece of baling twine from home, and put it away in his desk drawer to start a new chapter. He reached over, pulled Lew into a kiss, and started it immediately.