#gimme some melody dammit

[vacantgodling]

REN!!!! gimme the oldies!!!!!!!!!!! I need to be not normal about Dave & Estel &c. ~@void-botanist

ROSE!!!!!! god i'm so not normal about estel and dave like good GOD im not normal about them.

so in the spirit of not being normal about them i decided to partially clean up a piece i've had sitting in my notes for a BRICK cuz i was on the bus home and rotating them like crazy. so, for the backdrop: its been about.... 4 or 5 years removed from the end of vdtrt and dave has moved from ny to washington state to be closer to nature and to start taking photos and stuff. darren and olice are both out of the house; darren has been traveling with gabe and spending time with his relatives, friends and the coven tm, and olice has started college but he HAS formally adopted her. so this happens during the semester; dave gets an unexpected visitor that he hasn't seen in about a year :eye emoji: -- i didn't finish rewriting it fully cuz i'm on the bus and i really just wanted to rewrite the beginning part atm, but dave and estel are in a relationship on the DL at this point. darren suspects that he may be seeing someone, olice has no idea, and lizette CERTAINLY doesn't know that her ex is seeing her father-figure PFFFF. when i do get around to finishing this piece i want it to have the two of them talking about making their relationship more concrete, estel spending more time with dave (basically dave asks him to move in even though he knows it won't "tie estel down" and estel makes dave promise that once olice graduates that the two of them travel together because he wants to show dave the WORLD tm and they're also gonna talk about breaking the news to darren, olice and lizzie ehel em ay oh)

BUT IM STALLING ANYWAY HAVE GAYS:

##

An insistent rap to the door of his cabin is what finally roused Dave from his midday siesta on his horribly comfortable couch. He always told himself that he really should make it upstairs whenever he wanted to sleep; it would be better for his back, but he always found himself here around 3pm, watching some show he couldn’t remember the name of, and dozing—sometimes not waking until it was near 9 o’clock and the sun had already bid the jutting mountains and tiny town he called home adieu. And, looking at the clock, whoever knocked had spared him the crick in his neck, since it was only 5:30. Strange however, he wasn’t expecting anyone in particular today, at this time. He rubbed his eyes and located his glasses buried in the fuzzy soft rug just beneath the horrible comfy couch, and dropped his legs down from it to stand, wriggling his bare toes against its softness. 

The rap sounded at the door again.

“Coming!” Dave called, and ambled over to it. He racked his mind to think; had he promised his lovely neighbors Gloria and Darlene that he would come by to play cribbage this evening? Or did Mr. Sawson finally (finally) decide to return his hose—after what, six months of holding it hostage? Dave really should buy another one, Darren said so the last time they’d facetimed, but it was about the principle, dammit. 

But, neither the sweet if pushy elderly lesbian couple nor the misery Mr. Sawson awaited him when he peered out of the peephole. In fact, aside from Darren or Olice, it was probably the person he most looked forward to seeing at any given moment. 

Dave quickly undid the locks and threw open the door. 

“Estel!” 

“Darling!” Before Dave knew it, long arms wound around him and pulled him close, right there in the middle of the threshold. Dave wrapped his arms around the tall vampire’s waist and they swayed there to some invisible song that only Estel could hear. He often talked about how the universe was full of sounds that his human mind couldn’t hear nor comprehend. 

He’d also said that the song of Dave’s happiness was one of his favorite melodies. 

After a long moment, Estel pulled back to see his face. He cupped Dave’s cheeks with long, lithe fingers. “The starlight’s in your beard now!” He cooed sweetly—starlight in this case referring to the streaks of white that were now more often than incidental in Dave’s beard. Dave was honestly surprised it was taking his beard so long to go fully gray; at only 50 his hair was already white like snow, but he could blame his father for that, who started graying at 30. It seemed his beard was only now in the past year getting the memo, and as it was, Dave chuckled softly in his chest, his cheeks growing warm at the praise.  

“Are you going to let me close the door, Es?” He asked teasingly, but it was fond. Estel laughed and it was like wind chimes. But instead of letting go of Dave, he instead let his arms fall down to Dave’s waist, pulled him in tighter and spun them, gently closing the front door of the cabin with one hand while pressing Dave into it with the other. In this position, Dave’s hands slid from Estel’s waist to the planes of his chest—and he’d probably still never get used to looking up at him like this. Estel didn’t waste time and crowded in, looping one finger in the loop of Dave’s jeans to pull him into a mind numbingly deep, thorough kiss—like he was drowning and Dave was the only source of air. 

Dave gasped into his mouth in surprise but easily opened up to his insistent tongue, feeling his knees go weak and suddenly very thankful the door was there to help prop him up. When Estel finally pulled back and gave him a smug, satisfied little smile and Dave couldn’t help but smile back, a bit self conscious, and hit Estel’s chest lightly. The room brightened once more with Estel’s laugh. 

“You always make such funny faces when I kiss you Dave, dear! I can’t help but want to kiss you more.” Estel illustrated his point by leaning in and sucking the soul out of Dave’s lips once more until Dave finally had to push him back to breathe. 

“Es!” He exclaimed with a breathless laugh. “Can’t you tell I’ve missed you dear?” Estel peppered kisses all over Dave’s face and what else could Dave do but let him?

[ghost-town-story]

Currently obsessed with integrating Below into Band AU, whoops

(Will be rambling beneath the cut lol)

Aiden, wrapping his mic wire around his arm: “There’s something in the water, it washed away my pain. I lost all of my power, there’s nothing left to gain”. Swapping out with Brian because that poor boy cannot scream to save his voice but still yelling the lyrics without his mic. (Devastation)

The Past is Dead, c’mon. The whole band yelling those backing vocals. Just. Having fun, jamming out, constantly moving because there’s no way they can stand still with that energy. Brian suddenly coming in to scream the line “Anything it takes to feel alive!”

Something about Aiden or Brian singing “I don’t want to be so sympathetic now.” Just. Aiden “I’m stronger than this”. Brian “Don’t you dare fucking pity me”. Aaaah. Brian would definitely have such a hand in writing these lyrics bc holy hell they fit him so well. (Fed Up)

“And I'm starting to feel concerned When I disappear, no one will care About a single word that I put in the air 'Cause I'm know saying that I'm hurting's getting old, I can tell” Theo latching onto Brian: I care, you dipshit. You have at least five other people who care about you. (No Return)

Phantom Pain would be fun because I’m still getting tripped up by that intro into the chorus, which honestly? Considering Band AU SWS also pulls inspiration from DGD? Yeah Aiden’s having fun with fucky time signatures and syncopation lmao

Skin honestly sounds like it could be about a closeted kid. I know it’s not, but it sounds like it. The queer subtext is there. I mean, come on. “I’ve been sleeping on the floor of my closet again.” “I’ve been burying it down in my system again.” “I’m so uncomfortable” being repeated so many times in the song. I could write an entire fucking essay about the queer subtext in this song, but I’ll stop there lol. But just. Brian my poor forced-in-the-closet/forced-out child. Struggling with his sexuality, with labels, still not wholly comfortable with everything but at least now he has company, he’s not alone.

Aiden has to shelve some songs until Brian joins the band, because he Does Not have the voice for them. Philosopher King (by DGD) is one. I Won’t Give It Up is another. Ashe never liked the band, always tried to convince Aiden to drop it, to give it up. Eventually Aiden gets fed up (heh) and writes half a song, concludes he doesn’t have the voice to give it justice, and shelves it for a later date. (He always says later. He always has a little hope that one day, he’ll be able to do those songs justice, or they’ll find an unclean vocalist for their band.) Four years later, they stand in a practice room, and Brian backs up Aiden, giving the lyrics that extra edge he always wanted as he yells “What I’ve made is all that I have, and I won’t give it up for you!”

The Band AU SWS lyric chat is a thing of wonder between Aiden, Theo, and later Brian, just for firing off snippets of lyrics as they pop up. Brian doesn’t do vulnerability (excluding when he’s too drunk to have a filter), but there’s something about seeing Aiden and Theo go back and forth over lyrics, and (though he would never admit it) a bit of a warm fuzzy feeling when he sends a line and Aiden replies with “!!!!!!”. So maybe they wear him down a bit. Just enough for Brian to send off a few lines. “Pulling away from my emotions now” “Choosing silence just to escape my insecurity, but the quiet only makes me crazy” “I’m crumbling under the pressure”. Theo, texting Brian outside of the lyric chat: I’m coming over Which is how Brian finds himself with a weighted blanket named Theo cuddling the hell out of him.

[aromantyczno-liryczna]

My Favourite Songs From Musicals:

In The Heights

It Won't Be Long Now

When the Sun Goes Down

96,000

In the Heights

Carnaval Del Barrio

Everything I Know

When You're Home

Champagne

Benny's Dispatch

No Me Diga 

Wicked (literally every song is great...)

One Short Day

Thank Goodness

Dancing Through Life

I'm Not That Girl

No One Mourns The Wicked 

High Hopes

Finale "Wicked"

Wonderful

Defying Gravity

Popular

What Is This Feeling?

The Wizard And I 

Be More Chill

Voices in My Head (FAVOURITE FAVOURITE)

The Pitiful Children

Michael in the Bathroom

Halloween

Loser Geek Whatever

More Than Survive (Reprise) (AND THIS)

More Than Survive

The Phantom Of The Opera

Medley: Down Once More / Track Down This Murderer

The Music Of The Night

The Phantom Of The Opera

Think Of Me

Why Have You Brought Me Here/Raoul I've Been There

All I Ask Of You

The Point Of No Return/Chandelier Crash

Notes / Prima Donna

Overture

Notes / Twisted Every Way (hisflkjsadanl;k when the melody goes down 😋)

Avenue Q

If You Were Gay

Annie Get Your Gun

Anything You Can Do

Beetlejuice

Say My Name

Billy Elliot

The Stars Look Down

Electricity

Bonnie & Clyde

This World Will Remember Us (feat. Jeremy Jordan & Laura Osnes)

Too Late to Turn Back Now (feat. Laura Osnes & Jeremy Jordan)

Picture Show (feat. L. Osnes, J. Jordan, K. Fowler & T. Ackerman)

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

The Double Bubble Duchess

Chicago

Nowadays/Hot Honey Rag (Medley Title)

Roxie (Album Version)

Cell Block Tango

Nowadays (Roxie) (Album Version)

Mister Cellophane (Album Version)

Razzle Dazzle (Album Version)

Dear Evan Hansen

If I Could Tell Her

In the Bedroom Down the Hall (Demo)

Hairspray

Mama, I'm A Big Girl Now

Hamilton (EVERY SONG IS 👌👌👌 - i swear im not just copying the whole soundtrack 😳)

The World Was Wide Enough

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

Non-Stop

My Shot

My Shot (feat. Busta Rhymes, Joell Ortiz & Nate Ruess)

Guns and Ships

The Room Where It Happens

You'll Be Back

Helpless (feat. Ja Rule)

Stay Alive

Cabinet Battle #2

Aaron Burr, Sir

Washington on Your Side

Alexander Hamilton

Burn

Dear Theodosia (feat. Ben Folds)

We Know

Heathers

Beautiful

Kinky Boots

The History of Wrong Guys

Les Misérables

On My Own

On My Own (motion picture)

Bring Him Home

The Final Battle

One Day More

Miss Saigon

I'd Give My Life For You (Live)

The Movie In My Mind (Live)

Last Night Of The World (Live)

Pippin

No Time at All

Evita

Don't Cry For Me Argentina

Hair

Aquarius

Love Never Dies

Ladies...Gents! / The Coney Island Waltz (Reprise)

"Mother, Did You Watch?"

Heaven By The Sea (Reprise)

RENT

La Vie Boheme

Take Me or Leave Me

Seasons of Love

School Of Rock

Stick It to the Man

Singing In The Rain

Singin' In The Rain

Spring Awakening

Mama Who Bore Me (Reprise)

Don't Do Sadness/Blue Wind

Sweeney Todd

Johanna

By the Sea

The Ballad of Sweeney Todd

South Pacific

Some Enchanted Evening (from "South Pacific")

The Greatest Showman

A Million Dreams (Reprise)

Come Alive

The Other Side

Never Enough

Rewrite The Stars

A Million Dreams

The Greatest Show

This Is Me

SMASH (i think it counts...?)

Let Me Be Your Star

The Rocky Horror Show

Dammit Janet

Sweet Transvestite

Thoroughly Modern Millie

Gimme Gimme

Cats

Memory

Waitress

What Baking Can Do

The Negative

She Used to Be Mine

What's Inside

[lucarioisinthevoid]

Old Sportz, yes, both of you, (if AUs did collide and Henree boi is outta the void), you going to try to get Henry back in the void, or...? Or at least activate the puppet so that they are aware of the situation and can get help? Also, Henry, WHAT IS THE FASTEST AND EASIEST WAY TO KILL SOMEBODY I AM IN DESPERATE NEED OF THIS INFORMATION-

“We’re getting Henry where now?” Business Sport blinked in confusion. The other one seemed a bit quicker to the uptake. “Oh dear lord, NO-” As if dealing with a clone of you that is pretty much everything you COULD HAVE BEEN, IF YOU ONLY HAD STUCK TO YOUR PATH wasn’t enough- now Henry was roaming too-“He can’t be- this only got the timelines together, didn’t it?” Confused BS (what an unfortunate shortening) looked as his other self. “Henry had been in the void, so…” “… he shouldn’t been affected. He should have only shortly showed up and then vanish again…” Uncomfortable Old Sport shook his head. “… though, Anons have the habit of saying the truth…” “How did the puppet even get deactivated? Where is he?” Worried Business Sport looked around, as if hoping to spot him, an overall useless gesture. “Jeremy last had him- I mean- Henry last had him-” Fearful OS began rushing towards their parts and services room and low and behold, the puppet was actually there, almost looking as if peacefully slumbering. OS was the first to grab the machine, while the other Sport still held some sort of respectful distance. “Okay, where do we turn him on?” “Uh- have you checked the back?” Equally as helpless, Business Sport shrugged. Following the advice the puppet was flipped and felt alongside the back, with Old Sport frowning. “No… no, no… maybe the back of the head-” But as soon as his hand touched that part, his eyes widened and he pulled back his hand as if something just bit him. “Can- You- Get Dave here.” “Did something happen?” “Dave knows how to fix this.” The last words were more or less muttered, before the more murderous Sport got out of the parts and services and called out. “DAVE? CAN YOU COME OVER HERE?” As soon as he closed his mouth the suitless Dave dropped from the ceiling. “Ya rang?” “How- you know what, doesn’t matter. Can you help me reactivated the Puppet?” “Sure thing Sportsy! Dunno why you even WANT that, but yeah.” Following him inside Dave hesitated not even half a second before swooping the machine up and messing around with the buttons. Quickly the machine sprung back to life and-Slashed Dave square over the face. “OUCH FUCKIN’ DAMMIT- THE FUCK IS YA PROBLEM?! COULD HAVE AT LEAST GIMME A THANKS BEFORE FUCKIN’ ME UP!” Holding his bloody face, Dave stumbled back, while the Marionette floated upwards, a wild expression- well, not expression, seeing as it was plastic, but… in its eyes, there was aggression.  “What happened-?!” It wasn’t directly fear, but… “Jeremy took me to the back to calm me down a-and-”“It wasn’t Jeremy.” Rather blank Old Sport got these words out. “… Henry messed with reality.” “Henry?!” With that the Puppet had released his claws from the cloth around them. “He is here?”“Currently, yes-” Before he could even continue and ask what they would be doing about it, the Puppet was out. “There is no hiding for him here.” The music box started playing in the back. Its haunting melody danced through the halls, echoing through every crack.

Round and round the rosary bush

Henry hummed along

The monkey chased the weasel

Slowly he checked on the mechanical claws he had been working on, looking at it in the light of the lamp at his workplace.  

The monkey though it’s all for fun!

It reflected the light dangerously, shining bright.

POP goes the weasel!

A loud scream sounded as the Puppet jumped out of nowhere, claws first, aiming for Henry’s throat. If Henry were turning around, he would only be able to see the tips of the claws burrowing themselves in his eyes. But he didn’t. He simply pressed a button next to the and with a painful screech, accompanied by an unbearable high-pitched noise the machine landed on the ground shaking and shivering under high electronic current. Softly Henry sighed. “Hello there, Charlie. Always too impatient, always too hasty. Bad behavior, no manners in sight. Not even a greeting. We could have had a nice chat.” Testing out the claw, Henry turned it around and it began to move around as if alive. Seemingly paying no mind to the shivering and voiceless machine he deactivated the claw again and turned to the Anon, who had approached him.“Do you really think I would feel charitable enough to help you out with your question, after you alerted the others to me and made sure this situation would be more of a nuisance then it already is?” With deep scorn Henry looked at the Anon. “I do not think you deserve any help.” For a moment he paused and handed the Anon rubber gloves. “Then again… you will not leave otherwise… I will answer you, if you carry the trash out for me. ” He signed at the Marionette. When the Anon picked it up, he nodded. “Now, what do you mean with fast and easiest? Because fast and easiest would for certain be a gun, if you fear no repercussions due to the noise. You could try to inject air into their veins and force a heart attack by that. Arsenic poisoning is a rather subtle death, but you would need time for that one, and access to their food and or water supplies. There is also a certain technique, where if you correctly punch the chest of your victim- first impact with the fingers, followed instantly by a second impact with your palm- you can confuse the heart rhythm and kill them due to that… alternatively, yes, there is also the punch to the throat, if you hit the veins there just right. I hope this helped you.” Well, isn’t Henry a helpful fella?… I’m not sure if you should trust his advice though. He might be fucking you over.

[himbowelsh]

i’ll be seeing you (AO3)

AN: for @ruinsrebuilt, in your quest for more babe/julian - i hope you like it! 

When Babe opens his eyes to the sound of a soft vibration close to his ear, he startles awake immediately. In Bastogne, sleep is a commodity, and you're never too tired to be scared wide awake by the sound of artillery. If Babe has learned one thing for certain in this past week of hell, it's that humming means incoming, and incoming means get to your foxholes before you're blown to hell. It takes his muddled, exhausted mind a few seconds to recognize his surroundings. He is in his foxhole already, and that noise is too gentle, too melodic to be any type of shell.

Julian is peering across the foxhole at Babe's sudden reaction; he hasn't gone quiet. Soft humming still echoes through the still night air, and it takes Babe's face a second to settle into a scowl. "Dammit, Julian, what are you doing?" "What's it look like I'm doing?" Julian shoots back, huffing. The humming noise cuts itself off when he speaks, so there's no doubt where it came from. "I'm watching the line while you nap. What's got you jumping up like someone lit a firecracker under your ass?" Babe looks down at himself self-consciously -- he definitely hadn't jumped, and he hadn't been scared by Julian's humming, of all things. That would be stupid. It's not like he's some green replacement anymore, afraid of his own shadow -- now he's one of the ones considered a veteran of Easy, looked up to by the newer guys. It's something Babe's conscious of, and his new battle-worn reputation leaves no room for jumpiness. He draws himself up with all the self-respect he can muster, pulling his knees closer into his chest. "Just knock it off," he mutters. "Someone's liable to hear ya." "I'm not being that loud," retorts Julian defensively. "It's too quiet out here. What else am I supposed to do, listen to the wind?" "Listen for shells. Watch the line, huh?" Julian rolls his eyes before fixing them forward again. "I was," he mutters. "Ain't my fault you're so jumpy." There's a hint of a pout on Julian's lips, red and flushed from the cold. It makes him look even younger than he actually is. Babe is reminded once again that Julian is really just a kid. He talks a lot about the last birthday spent with his family back home, just before he enlisted. Christ, he's not even twenty yet, and he's still stuck in this hellhole like all the rest of them.

A tiny jolt hits Babe, something he's not quite willing to call guilt. Poking his foot from the minimal sanctuary of his blanket, he nudges his friend’s thigh.

“Hey, sing if you want. Just not too loud.”

Julian doesn't glance at him. “I was humming, not singing.”

“And it still sounded that bad?” Babe raises his eyebrows. “That's a talent.”

The bait is there and Julian takes it, just like Babe knew he would. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I'm a great singer.”

“Oh, so you were trying to be off key?”

Julian aims a swat at him. There's no room to dodge, so Babe lets his hand deflect harmlessly off his shoulder before smirking. “Come on then. Sing something.”

For a moment, there is silence. Julian’s brow furrows as he glances between Babe and the line, apparently deep in thought. He opens his mouth, closes it again, and then grinds his teeth. Babe snorts.

“I can think of something, gimme a minute.”

“What were you humming before?”

Julian doesn't answer. It's hard to see in the dark, added to Bastogne’s uncanny ability to siphon every drop of color from their bodies, but when Babe leans closer he's almost sure that Julian is blushing. He elbows his friend for a reply, and the other boy turns his head away.

“Somewhere Over The Rainbow.”

Babe tosses back his head with a raspy laugh. “You're kidding me!”

“It's a great movie,” Julian shoots back. Babe isn't about to argue, but that doesn't keep him from giggling into his fist.

Julian remains stubbornly quiet for a few moments more, allowing Babe to have a laugh at his expense, before his lips start moving again. His voice is quiet enough that Babe he's to go dead silent to hear what his friend sings.

“Comin' in on a wing and a prayer. Comin' in on a wing and a prayer. With our one motor gone, we can still carry on --”

“Comin’ in on a wing and a prayer…”  Babe chimes in on the last verse. His singing voice isn't much to brag about to begin with, but it's worse here -- roughened by the wind and cold, it sound almost eerie in the silence around them. Still, as it meshes with Julian’s lighter voice the other boy shoots him a smile, and Babe feels a little bit lighter.

“Okay, then. What else you got?”

Julian thinks for a moment before starting to sing again.

“Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me -- anyone else but me, anyone else but me…”

“No, don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me, till I come marching home!”

Babe grins now, open and unselfconscious. Julian mirrors it with a smile of his own, looking more carefree than Babe has seen him since before they rode into the Ardennes. There's something about seeing genuine happiness on his friend’s face that makes the bite of Cold a bit more tolerable, the darkness less uncertain.

(For one second, Babe wishes he had a camera; to snap a picture of Julian, of this genuine happiness where it seems so out of place, to keep with him forever.)

“You got it,” he says instead. “I mean, you sound like a dyin’ cat, but you got it!”

Julian raises his eyebrows. “The hell d’you think you sound like?”

"I'm a fantastic singer!" Julian lets out an ugly snort. "What're you laughing at?" "You calling yourself a singer." In response, Babe aims another kick at his shoulder. Julian, the ball of winter clothing and thin blankets that he is, nearly toppled over. He only catches himself at the last moment, and shoots Babe a glower before planting his hand on the top of Babe’s head and shoving him right back. Babe is too comfortable against the wall of the foxhole to be moved, but even Julian’s brief touch is warm.

“How are your hands warm? It's freezing!”

Julian shrugs, but without Babe saying anything he shuffles closer. Babe hadn't realized how cold he was until he feels Julian’s arms wrap around him. Gloved hands press to his cheeks, and he nestles against Julian’s body to conserve what little heat there is between them. It's not the first time they've huddled together for warmth; things like this have become the normal in these woods, where the cold brings numbness and another body holds warmth much better than a blanket. Babe curls up against Julian’s side, leaning his head against his chest as the other boy rests his chin in the crown of his hair.

Babe can feel Julian’s breath, not-quite-warm against his bare face; he can see it in the air, crystallized clouds hanging for just a second before vanishing. Breath is good -- breath means that, in this moment, they're both alive.

“I used to sing,” Julian says, voice taking on that thoughtful, melancholic tone that Babe has come to know well. It's the way a soldier’s voice goes whenever he speaks of home. A life before, of a childhood he used to have; people and places and memories that are no longer real, only ghosts that persist in haunting the lonelier corners of his mind. Babe has his own phantoms; he doesn't talk about them. Julian is more open, as much as he tries to pretend he's as tough as any of them.

“In church,” he continues. “I was a choir boy. My Ma -- she used to tell me I had the voice of an angel. She sings like a screeching duck, so I don't know what she's talking about. I guess it's just that parent thing, ya know? When you have a kid, everything they do’s a miracle. Everything they touch turns to gold.”

Babe chuckles at this. His mom used to smack him and his brothers upside the head anytime they were being too loud. If his parents were ever head-over-heels for their kids’ dumb antics, it was before his time. “Lemme guess, you're the baby of the family?”

“Only child,” Julian replies, a grin in his voice that tells Babe he knows just how sweet he's had it.

“Lucky son-of-a-gun.”

“They just called you Babe for no reason? Or did you cry a lot as a kid?”

“Actually, its for my stunning good looks,” Babe retorts, and tries not to react when Julian snorts into his hair. It sends chills down his spine; Babe tries to convince himself it's just from the heat, and not the proximity of the other man next to him.

After that, Julian goes quiet, so Babe does too. He isn't sure what time it is (time in Bastogne doesn't have a lot of meaning) but the sky isn't light and no one else is running around, so he suspects it's either late at night or early in the morning. Whichever it is, he finds that he isn't tired anymore. By now his body is trained to go off of as little sleep as possible; with the threat of closing your eyes and never getting to open them again, Babe tries to keep awake as much as possible. His last memory is of it being a bit after dinner, though, so he suspects Julian has been up through most of the night watching the line while he rests.

He opens his mouth, about to tell Julian to get some sleep, when he hears that same soft voice pick up once more.

“I'll be seeing you… in all the old familiar places… that this heart of mine embraces, all day and through…”

Babe knows this song. One of those ghosts drifts through his mind: his mother stirring a pot in the kitchen, sunlight glinting off the copper of her hair as her hips swayed to the gentle melody. His mother’s low voice, filling the house with music; Babe, at the kitchen table, closing his eyes and allowing the song to wash over him. He does the same thing now, both desperate to escape the memory and unwilling to let it go. Julian’s voice is soothing in its cadence, soft as a lullaby. For a few moments, Babe allows it to wrap him up and seep warmth into his chilled body.

“I'll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new…”

Julian’s body is pressed close, voice holding him fast; and for just a moment Babe remembers what it feels like to be warm.

What really gets Babe after they leave Julian out there isn't the fact that he's dead (people die everyday, even people who were just right next to him, breathing and whole and so alive) but that he's gone.

There's nothing left of him. They don't get his body; Babe can't collect his things and fulfill the one promise they made to each other. Babe doesn't have anything of Julian’s to hold on to. There is no photograph, no rosary, not even the memory of a last exchange of words. Babe has no clue what the last thing Julian said to him was; all he remembers is the way Julian tried to speak while lying in that snow, choking on blood but still trying to make it. Julian was a fighter. Julian wanted to live.

In the end, it didn't matter. He's just gone.

Babe gets back to his foxhole and sees Julian’s blanket, tucked up in the corner to keep it safe. He remembers Julian folding it that morning, and something in him crumpled. Nothing else is left behind, but Babe can't stay there. He leaves the foxhole without looking back.

Somehow he finds himself in the medic’s foxhole. Memories are hazy, disjointed and twisted by grief. He doesn't know how he winds up with Spina’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, Roe tucked up against his side. He doesn't know whether they speak, or if he replies. He doesn't remember much at all, except quiet.

There is no humming, no melody, no whisper of a song. There is nothing left of Julian, and Babe has nothing of him to hold on to except memories.

He imagined it's Julian’s voice lulling him to sleep, instead of just another ghost whispering out of the darkness of his mind.

“I'll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new… I'll be looking at the moon but I'll be seeing you.”