Half Sick of Shadows » Band of Brothers [2]

48: To Gaze at the Sky

Gene must see the tears pooling in my eyes - either that or he's just incredibly good at reading me, which is equally as likely - because he pulls me into his side and wraps his arms around me. I settle into his touch and rest my head on his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat calm me. Closing my eyes, I focus on the sound of his voice and the vibrations it causes in his chest. "You're too hard on yourself. You know that?"

I laugh a little bit because it's true. I think now that he's reading my confessions he's a lot more conscious of this fact and I think, as a result, I kind of am, too. I'm trying to work on giving myself a break (clearly with limited success) and Gene's definitely helping a lot; I'm endlessly grateful to him for that.

"No one's gonna force you to do anythin'. Alright?" he goes on. "You just gotta do whatever you think's best for you. For once in your life you gotta think about yourself and not worry about anyone else."

I nod and keep my eyes shut, tightening my arms around him. Pushing back those tears which just won't go away, I whisper, "I don't want you to go to the Pacific."

He laughs a little bit and presses a kiss to my hair. "I know."

"Are you scared?"

"Yeah," he admits quietly, which doesn't help my case where the tears are concerned.

Mostly to myself, I mumble, "Why do you have to live so far away?"

Gene doesn't reply immediately but after a short pause he clears his throat. "I, uh -" He hesitates and I can hear the nervousness in his voice. "I wanted to ask you somethin'."

I sit up properly so I can look at him and find him with a blush across his cheeks, looking out across the lake bashfully. I nod, knowing he's watching me in his periphery, and wait for him to continue. I have no idea why he's gotten so shy all of a sudden but it has me very intrigued about this question he wants to ask.

"I, uh," he stammers again, and then sighs and smiles slightly to himself. "I wanted to know if you might wanna..." His words falter so I take ahold of his hand, which seems to be the encouragement he needs. "Come home with me?" he finishes, risking a glance my way.

Needless to say, those tears I was holding back have fallen now. "What?" My voice emerges as a mere whisper but my lack of a proper answer gives him the wrong idea.

"You don't have to say yes. I don't want you to feel like you gotta say yes just 'cause I asked or nothin' but -"

I cut him off by throwing my arms around him and burying my face in the crook of his neck. "I want that so much," I tell him, smiling through the tears.

He hugs me back immediately. "You do?" The relief is evident in his voice and it just makes me hold on tighter.

I nod. "I want that more than anything."

I pull back from the hug to look at him but keep close, and he kisses me without a second thought. It has to end quickly, though, because we're both smiling so much.

"Do you really mean it?" I ask, searching his face for any sign of doubt or uncertainty. "You really want me to come home with you?"

"More than anythin'," he replies with a grin, echoing my own words back to me whilst he wipes away my tears. I laugh and hug him again because I'm filled with the overwhelming desire to be as close to him as I can get.

"You'd have to wait for me," he says into my hair, but there's a smile in his voice. "Stay in England, maybe, and then I'd come get you once I got back." There's no suggestion that he won't come back because there's no chance of it, either - not where I'm concerned, at least. If I lost him I'm certain I'd never recover, so it's a thought I don't even entertain.

"I'd wait for you forever," I confide, and smile when I feel him pull me closer.

"I love you," he says, and I really, truly know he means it.

So I pull back and kiss him, trying to show him how much I mean it, too. "I love you too," I tell him afterwards, a whisper when he rests his forehead against mine. I feel like my heart could burst. "Je t'aime."

He smiles. "Je t'aime mon amour."

When we head back to the hotel I feel like I'm in some kind of dream. I don't let the looming dark cloud of the Pacific linger - every time I look at Gene I forget about it anyway.

He has to leave after a little while to go and do some duty or other - inventory, probably, as it seems there's no shortage of inventory to be done where the US Army is concerned. When I go back to my room Tom's already in there. All it takes is one look at my face and he knows.

"He asked you, didn't he?"

I can't help but giggle. "How did you know?"

Tom smiles. "You said yes?"

"Of course I said yes," I reply, still positively beaming. "But how did you know?"

"He asked me," he replies simply, and now I think my heart really is about to burst. "He wanted my blessing and obviously I gave it. I've been waiting for him to ask you for about a week now."

I pull him into a hug, just because I feel like it, and he hugs me back with equal fervour. "I know he'll take care of you, and that's what I want most, but take care of yourself too, okay?"

I laugh and sniffle a little bit. "Why does this feel like goodbye?"

Tom laughs as well and hugs me tighter. "I don't know," but his voice is thick with tears too. "It isn't. Not yet."

Not yet. But it will be soon. The thought breaks my heart so much it's too much to bear.

"And even then, it won't be forever," I insist. I pull out of the hug and hold out my pinkie. "You promised, remember?"

He laughs again and nods, wiping his eyes before linking my pinkie with his. "It won't be forever. I promise."

All these conflicting emotions. How easy it is to become overwhelmed.

"I'm going to write," I tell him decisively.

Tom nods and goes back to sit on his bed so I take a seat at the desk and pick up where I left off with my confessions, which was the final mission.

In my determination to distract myself I end up writing all the way to now, and document the past day up to this very moment. Getting here and realising I've told my story almost in its entirety kind of makes me want to cry, too, so really I'm just an emotional wreck.

"Where are you up to?" Tom asks, obviously hearing my sniffling.

I laugh a little bit and wipe at my eyes. "Today. Right now. I just wrote out our conversation."

"Is that the end, then?" he asks, sitting up straight on the bed.

I turn in my chair and shoot him a soft smile, shaking my head. "No. No, it's not the end. Not yet."