Empty Chairs At Empty Tables
So this is inspired by the song for my favourite musical Les Misérables ‘Empty Chairs At Empty Tables’ where the character Marius sings about loosing his friends during the French Revolution. I feel that this song fits a lot of characters from the HBO war fandom but I was just drawn to writing this fic for Eugene Sledge. Warnings: themes of war, loss, grief, death, death of a beloved pet, PTSD
Thank you so much @georgieluz for proofreading it.
Deacon watched the couple, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as sat with a lopsided grin. Eugene never saw him move but every time he turned around he was right in his heels. Eugene reached down to scratch his dog's head affectionately, watching as he smiled up at him.
“The way he looks at you, sometimes I wonder whether he’s the love of your life instead,” Y/n joked, laughing as Eugene stuck out his tongue at them.
“You’re just jealous that he got the last sandwich.”
“Not at all, you know I’d do anything for him,” Y/n began scratching Deacon’s arm which caused the dog to flop down onto their lap.
“Which is exactly why I’m not worried about leaving you with him. I know you’ll both look out for each other,” Eugene sat down, a solemn look on his face.
“We’re gonna be just fine, right Deacon? Your Dad has nothing to worry about,” Y/n spoke to the dog and Eugene felt his heart swell for the hundredth time that day as he realised just how much he loved them.
“Gene, please don’t be sad,” Y/n reached over, cupping his cheek. “We’re going to be just fine.”
“I know,” Eugene mumbled, his lip wobbling as the tears began trickling down his cheeks. “I just don’t want to leave you.”
“I don’t want you to leave either, but I know you have to. It doesn’t make it any easier though,” they admitted, running their fingers through his red locks.
“I love you, Eugene Sledge. Come back to me.”
“I promise.”
To my dearest Y/n,
How I wish I was at home with you. I want nothing more than to be back in that field, on the red-checked picnic blanket with you and Deacon. Those days were so simple. If only all of life could be that simple.
Today I saw a man have his whole leg blown off and he just stood there looking at us, it was as if he didn’t realise what had happened to him until the medics were trying to get him on a stretcher. How does that even happen?
I hope everything at home is going well. Thank you for visiting my parents, it means a lot to them when you visit and Deacon always loves your visits, he tells me so personally. I wish I was there with you. All I want is a hug. It seems silly really, childish even, but to just have your arms around me, even for a second would be enough.
I love you always my darling,
Your Eugene
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My Eugene,
I’m sure by now you have received the news of Deacon’s passing from your parents. I am so sorry, my love. Just know that he did not suffer. His old body carried him well right until the end and I spent the last three days and nights of his life by his side. We sat out under the apple trees and I read to him just like you used to. He was comfortable when he passed. The house is quieter without him. Now that I am without either of you I do feel truly alone, not even Sidney is here to support me.
I pray every night for your safe return to me my love.
I love you forever and always
Your Y/n
Eugene felt his legs shaking as he stepped off the train onto the platform, his hands shaking as he held onto his kit bag tightly. He could see Sidney, leaning against his truck, a cigarette hanging limply from his lips. It was the reunion he was excited for but not the one he had been yearning for. Sid talked all the way back to his house, talking of his fiancée, life since he’d been home, and his family but Eugene barely registered any of it, his mind too preoccupied with the image of Y/n.
“Drop me here, Sid,” Eugene spoke up as the view of the driveway came into sight.
“You sure, I can drive you up to the house?”
“No, it’s okay. I need the walk. I’ve been stuck on the train for hours.”
Sidney pulled up to the end of the driveway, cutting the engine.
“It’s good to have you back, Gene.”
“It’s good to be back. Thanks for the ride, Sid.”
Eugene slung his kit bag over his shoulder, leaving Sid behind him as his legs carried him up the driveway in long strides. As he approached the house he could see them, arranging one of the flower baskets by the front door, their sleeves rolled up and looking just as lovely as the day he’d left. Eugene felt his heart swell at the sight of them and he promised he would tell them every day.
He dropped his kit bag in the lawn chair, approaching them slowly so as to not disturb them.
“Y/n?” He spoke, his hands shaking a little at his sides.
Y/n dropped the flower basket, oblivious to the terracotta shattering across the decking.
“Eugene?” They squeaked, their hands coming to their mouth. “Is it really you? Are you really here?” Y/n stepped down off the decking, moving to stand in front of him. Their hand reached up to cup his cheek, Y/n’s fingers grazing at the soft flesh and Eugene sighed.
“It really is you,” they whispered, tears trailing down their cheeks to match Euegne’s.
“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
“It's so quiet, isn't it?” Euegen turned his head to look down at Y/n, as they smiled sympathetically at him.
“You'll get used to the peace again, my love. I promise.”
“It’s not that,” Eugene sighed, shifting to sit up on his elbows, “Deacon always used to snore on the end of the bed. He was so noisy when he slept.”
Eugene could feel the tears starting to trail down his cheeks being brushed away and a chaste kiss placed on his lips. “I miss him every day,” Eugene cried, a sob escaping from his lips as he was enveloped in Y/n’s embrace.
“It’s okay, Gene. We’re going to get through this together.”
“NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU WEREN'T THERE!” Gene screamed, throwing another vase across the room and watching as it smashed on the floor, glass shattering like icicles across the hardwood floorboards and the flowers cascading amongst the disarray.
“I know I wasn’t there for you then, Eugene but I’m here now and I am never leaving your side,” Y/n cried, “So don’t keep trying to push me away because I’m not going anywhere.”
“But you have no idea. They’re all dead, they’re all gone and I came back. Why did I deserve to come back? There are houses all around the world with empty chairs where they should be sitting right now,” Eugene slipped down onto the floor beside the smashed vase, his head hanging low as he sobbed.
Y/n couldn’t take it anymore and was by his side in an instant, cradling him close, comforting him. “Shh Eugene, please don’t talk like this. I need you. Your family needs you. I am so glad you came home.”
“But why did I deserve to come home and they didn’t,” Eugene glanced up at them, his large tearful eyes breaking their heart further.
“Because I love you, that's why. Because it wasn’t your time and quite possible because you deserved to come home.”
“And they didn’t.”
“No. You all deserved to come home. What you must do now is decide what you want to do with your second chance. You were given a chance to come home and you must live each day to the fullest for all of those who didn’t make it home. Okay?” Y/n looked down at him and Eugene nodded, resting his head against their chest. Y/n reached down, cradling their fingers through his ginger hair, soft, soothing strokes. Eugene’s breathing soon settled into a more normal rhythm as Y/n heartbeat calmed him.
“I’m glad I came home,” Eugene whispered, “because I have a very important question to ask you.”
“You do,” Y/n replied, looking down at the man they loved.
“Will you stay with me? Always?”
“Of course I will Gene. I’m not going anywhere.” The couple sat on the floor of Eugene’s room, no longer aware of the time or space around them. The only thing that mattered right now was that Eugene was home, and he was safe and with time he would heal from the horrors he had seen.
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Here are some songs that are going into “Les Meowserables,” an all-cat version of “Les Miserables”:
- Do you hear the kitties sing, singing the songs of fuzzy cats? They are looking so adorable in little tricorne hats!
- There are scratch marks on the tables where my friends sharpened their claws, little scratch marks on the tables from a fallen comrade’s paws.
- Go meow, go meow, that’s what the kitties say. Go meow, go meow, make all humans your slaves.
- There is a box that’s full of sand. I like to poop just right outside. Scatter the litter on the floor. Then make my humans clean it up.
- Master of the house! Owns all of the space! Stomps across your keyboard, butthole in your face! Can’t adjust your legs! Master doesn’t care! Every surface covered with big clumps of hair!
- On my own, my humans do not love me. Hungry now, and yet, my dish is empty. I weep, and yet those jerks ignore me. They say I was just fed but not an hour ago - they’re lying.
- I brought a mouse that I just caught. I’m going to leave it on your pillow. I thought you’d like it, do you not? You know, I killed it just for you.
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