#john silver fanfiction

[jaynovz]

In discussions about the finale of Black Sails, one of the things I often see is folks hard-focusing on Flint's fate, in an either-or binary fashion, usually presented as "Which do you believe-- that Silver killed him? or sent him to the plantation?"

Now, for posterity's sake, gonna mention a few things-- first off, that's simply not thinking broadly enough. There are farrrr more than two options here and I've come up with my share of the reallyyyyy bad ones for sure. Whatever your mind chooses, none of those are happy endings anyway, there are bittersweet, bad, and worse endings all the way down. (They are paused, they are in a time loop, and also all endings and no endings are happening simultaneously)

But also, the more cogent point is that, it doesn't actually matter what happened *to Flint* The story is... not actually about him at that point. We have transitioned from Flint as protag to Silver as protag, setting up for (the fanfiction that Black Sails has ended up making of, ugh, king shit) Treasure Island.

And so, I just, don't find it to be of particular interest exploring what we think Flint is actually doing or if he's alive for real. What is EXTREMELY interesting to explore though is how Silver's speech at the end to Madi is sort of giving Thomas back to Flint as a pacifier/comfort object, but how... Silver is giving Flint that thing in his own mind as his own type of pacifier/comfort object.

That's the REALLY chewy bit. What actually happens to Flint is not the purpose of that scene for me, of Silver's recounting of events to Madi. It's more about... projection. It's about how Silver is dealing with whatever happened to Flint/whatever he did.

And I just feel like it's missing the point to focus so hard on if Flint is alive or not.

He is the ghost of the story regardless, that's what's important. He's going to haunt the narrative for the rest of everyone's lives. No one has been untouched or unscarred by coming into contact with Captain Flint; he has a forever legacy. I'm not the first to call him this, but he's Schrödinger's Flint and he's staying that way.

But this?

"No. I did not kill Captain Flint. I unmade him. The man you know could never let go of his war. For if he were to exclude it from himself, he would not be able to understand himself. So I had to return him to an earlier state of being. One in which he could function without the war. Without the violence. Without us. Captain Flint was born out of great tragedy. I found a way to reach into the past... and undo it. There is a place near Savannah... where men unjustly imprisoned in England are sent in secret. An internment far more humane, but no less secure. Men who enter these gates never leave them. To the rest of the world, they simply cease to be. He resisted... at first. But then I told him what else I had heard about this place. I was told prominent families amongst London society made use of it. I was told the governor in Carolina made use of it. So I sent a man to find out if they'd used it to hide away one particular prisoner. He returned with news. Thomas Hamilton was there. He disbelieved me. He continued to resist. And corralling him took great effort. But the closer we got to Savannah, his resistance began to diminish. I couldn't say why. I wasn't expecting it. Perhaps he'd finally reached the limits of his physical ability to fight. Or perhaps as the promise of seeing Thomas got closer... he grew more comfortable letting go of this man he created in response to his loss. The man whose mind I had come to know so well... whose mind I'd in some ways incorporated into my own. It was a strange experience to see something from it... so unexpected. I choose to believe it... because it wasn't the man I had come to know at all... but one who existed beforehand... waking from a long... and terrible nightmare. Reorienting to the daylight... and the world as it existed before he first closed his eyes... letting the memory of the nightmare fade away. You may think what you want of me. I will draw comfort in the knowledge that you're alive to think it. But I'm not the villain you fear I am. I'm not him."

This is the speech of a man who is self-soothing, who is spinning himself a tale, who is projecting, who is coping.

and THAT is just, way chewier, innit?

[major-mads]

Chapter 7: Lucky 25

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: please comment or reblog and tell us what you think!! thanks for reading!! <3

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 11k

Thursday, September 16th: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich: 1300 HRS: 1 PM

Hope’s back ached as she bent over her old Singer sewing machine, silk fabric sliding effortlessly as the needle punched thread through it. Silk was hard to come by with rationing, and there was no way, even with Hugh’s help, that she could afford a new wedding dress. Luckily for her, Frank had a knack for making things disappear from the storeroom on base and later making them reappear in the girls' hut. 

Ruth hummed Artie Shaw out of tune from behind her as the blonde cut out more fabric from the pattern, laying the pieces of cloth over the tissue paper cutouts. Tatty and Helen hand-sewed small pieces of lace together, just some odd cuts they’d gotten from the local fabric shop.

The girls worked hard all afternoon, measuring, cutting, and sewing. The dress was coming along nicely, and with only three weeks to go until the big day, Hope was anxious to get it finished in time. 

The Singer buzzed along nicely as three familiar heads poked around the nissen hut door.

“Knock, knock,” Hugh called out, stepping inside, his hands on his hips as he assessed the girl's work. Gale and John followed him closely. 

“You guys can’t be in here,” Helen scolded.

“It’s bad luck to see the dress before the wedding, Cleven,” Tatty hissed, marching over to the men. “You better get going before…”

“My dear Tatty, don’t be so defensive, I merely come to offer my services,” Hugh bowed dramatically. 

Hope snickered, all too aware of Hugh’s sewing skills, “I don’t think your skills are required here, Hugh. You’re not really one for a needle and thread.” 

Hugh scrunched his face up at her just like he’d done since they were children, and before he could throw out any more ridiculous ideas, Gale stepped forward.

“I don’t want to cause trouble, I merely want to spend some time with my girl,” Gale smiled charmingly at Tatty who moved aside.

“No wonder Hope can never say no to you, Major. That damn smile.” 

Gale made his way across the room just as Hope finished covering the dress with a sheet. “Hello darling,” he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” Hope stood up, pressing her lips against his again, smiling into his touch. 

“Tatty, come on,” John all but whined, pointing into the hut while Tatty stood firm on the doorstep. “It’s me.”

“And that is exactly why I’m not letting you in. You’d get your grubby mitts all over the dress.”

“I wouldn’t dare! Please,” John clasped his hands together, looking rather sad and pathetic until Tatty sighed. 

“Fine, but one step out of line, Major, and you’re out.” 

John moved past Tatty towards Ruth who was still sitting on the floor, surrounded by a collection of differently shaped pieces of silk. 

“Never knew you were such a seamstress,” he grinned, kissing her gently and enjoying the familiar blush that crept across her pale cheeks.

“Well, I’m a woman of many talents,” Ruth retorted, grinning up at the Major.

“That you are.”

“Hugh, put that fabric down now,” Hope hissed, moving away from Gale’s arms to scold her brother, smacking his arm until he released the precious fabric. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to get a hold of this?” 

“It’s just some silk, I’m sure any white fabric would do,” Hugh replied nonchalantly, pushing the reeling of cotton across Helen’s desk and glancing awkwardly around the room as it fell to the floor.

Hope sighed, “Hugh, for once in your life, please just be serious and stop acting like a child. It’s for my wedding day. Please don’t mess this up for me.” 

Hope loved her brother dearly, but sometimes it felt like she had to do all the work in their relationship.

Hugh nodded apologetically, “I will. I wouldn’t dream of ruining your big day, Little Bird.” Hope smiled at her childhood nickname, it had been a long time since he’d called her that. “But is there anything I can help with?” 

“Yes, there is,” Helen grabbed ahold of Gale and John’s sleeves, marching them towards Hugh, “You can take these two and keep them out of trouble until this evening.”

“Oh, come on, we just got here,” John groaned, glancing at Ruth in the hope of some sympathy, but she just waved at him. Gale glanced around Helen, blowing a kiss in Hope’s direction before the three men descended from the hut.

“You ladies have fun now, we’ll see you later,” Hugh called out, slamming the door dramatically. 

Helen turned back to the group, hurrying back to her spot beside Tatty, “I honestly don’t know how you’ve put up with Hugh for so long.” 

“I didn’t have much choice,” Hope laughed, turning back to the sewing machine, “He’s my brother after all.” 

A few moments passed until another knock sounded at the door, and Helen marched back over with a groan, slinging it open to reveal John leaning on the doorframe. 

“What is it?”

He peered around the woman, his eyes falling on Ruth. “Can I get a kiss?”

“You just got one!” she giggled, rising to her feet and approaching the door. “You’re so needy.”

Helen moved out of the doorway, chuckling as Ruth rose on her tiptoes and quickly kissed John before pushing him out the door with a wink. “See you later, hotshot!”

As the door closed in his face, John couldn’t help but shake his head at Ruth, his heart racing at the mere sight of her. Buck clapped his shoulder and turned him toward the nearby mess hall where Hugh walked a few feet ahead of them. “You gonna tell her tonight?”

“If Dye gets back in one piece, I will,” Johnny nodded, scratching his mustache. 

“He will.”

One Week Earlier: September 10: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base

The mess hall was unusually quiet as John and Gale sat eating their breakfast, having missed the morning rush by sleeping in an extra hour. They both laid awake the night before, their minds unable to shut off after the events of John’s party. Since they’d arrived, Bucky was silent, only speaking to thank the mess hall worker for his coffee.

Buck stared at him skeptically, taking in his slightly pursed lips and distant gaze that focused on the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him. “I can hear the gears turning from here, John. What is it?”

A few beats passed until he spoke up, his eyes remaining on his food. “Ruth.”

“Hmm,” Gale nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “What about her?”

“Everything…I can’t get her off my mind, Buck. I don’t know what’s going on.”

‘I do,’ the younger man thought.

John shook his head with a sigh, his brow creasing as his conflicted gaze lifted from the table. “I can’t explain it.”

Gale put down his coffee cup and smiled softly at his friend. “I can…you love her.”

“I don’t know, Buck.”

“What don’t you know?” he asked as his brows furrowed. Gale saw the deep thought behind the Major’s eyes and realized the confident and boisterous John Egan was nowhere in sight. This Bucky was unsure of himself, facing emotions he’d never felt before. Buck’s voice softened as he continued. “What do you know?”

John raised a questioning brow and Gale leaned his elbows onto the table. “How do you feel around her?”

“I don’t-” Bucky frustratedly groaned, sitting back into his seat. ”I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Just try.”

Every moment he shared with Ruth replayed like a film in John’s mind as he tried to find the words to describe the way he felt.

“When I think about her,” he finally began, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It just…It just does somethin’ to me, Buck, and can’t think straight.”

Gale listened intently, nodding along as John continued, his voice growing softer.

“And after last night, how she did all that for me? I’ve never met anyone like her.” His brow creased in thought as he struggled to find his next words. “She’s…she’s-”

“Everything,” Buck finished, Hope’s smiling face forming in his mind.

Gale’s words hung in the air for a few moments as the Majors thought of their beloved nurses. 

Bucky nodded slowly, his gaze drifting to the window where the morning sun filtered through the glass, lighting up the mess hall in a golden glow. He took a deep breath as he finally came to terms with what he was feeling. 

John Egan was in love.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “She’s everything.”

A knowing grin painted Gale’s face as he repeated his earlier statement. “You love her.”

“That how you feel about Hope?”

“Yeah, it is.”

As Buck’s words settled over them, John felt a weight lift off his shoulders. It was as if hearing the words out loud made them easier to grasp, and he couldn’t deny it any longer…he was in love with Ruth Morgan.

But even as the realization settled in, Bucky couldn’t shake the uncertainty that lingered in the back of his mind. This was a new territory for him, uncharted skies that both excited and terrified him. He’d always prided himself on his wild heart, but now he found himself willingly surrendering to feelings he’d managed to avoid for so long.

“You know,” Gale began, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. “You should tell her. It’s pretty clear she feels the same way.”

“We said we’d take it slow.”

Cleven pushed his plate aside and leaned further over the table. “So? When have you ever been one to follow the rules?”

Finally, John’s serious expression faded and he shook his head with a chuckle, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “And when have you ever encouraged me to break them?”

“Today,” he shrugged. “But only cause you need an extra shove.”

“Should I get used to this new Buck?”

“Don’t count on it,” Gale smirked as he sat back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. 

1900 HRS: 7 PM 

The lively sound of Glenn Miller filled the Officer’s Club as the band brought the hall to life. Couples jitterbugged and lindy-hopped across the dance floor, and happy conversation filled the air, including loud cackles and laughter from a table in the bar section where Hope and Ruth sat with their Majors. They were reminiscing about their time in San Angelo, Texas, with the girls’ under their arms and Hugh to the right of his sister.

Buck took a sip of his ginger beer with a raised brow. “Isn’t that where you picked up that damned jacket?”

“Sure is,” John replied and sucked his teeth. “My pride and joy.”

“So that’s where you got it,” Ruth giggled, shaking her head.

“Well,” he shrugged, holding a hand up defensively. “It was being discontinued, so I had no choice.”

Sitting up in his chair across from them, Hugh let out something between a chuckle and a scoff. “It was a choice, alright.”

Hope’s eyes met Ruth’s at the comment, waiting for a snarky comeback from the Major, but the blonde just patted John’s chest consolingly before he could respond. “It was being discontinued for a reason, John. Have you seen that thing?”

“Thank you. It always looks dirty,” Gale interjected as he smirked at John. “Seems Ruth is on my side for this one, Bucky.”

A giggle escaped Ruth’s lips and she sheepishly looked up at Johnny to see him already staring down at her, a playful frown on his lips a few inches away. “Say it isn’t true, Ruthie.”

“Sorry, hotshot,” she laughed, her eyes unable to resist flicking to his mouth at their close proximity. “Buck’s right, hon, but know you’re still my favorite Major.”

John’s frown faded and his lips curled into a mischievous grin as her laughter filled the air, and to his surprise, she leaned up and kissed him softly. Ruth pulled away after a moment with bright pink cheeks. The taste of her drink lingered on Bucky’s lips as his gaze locked with hers, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

His plans to finally tell her how he cared about her, how he loved her, flashed in the forefront of his mind. But even as he stared down at her smiling face and a wave of pure adoration washed over him, his stomach swirled with nervousness. 

What if she thought it was too fast? Too soon? Too much?

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, John forced himself to look away and took a sip of his pint before turning to Hope and pointing at her across the table. “And whaddya think, Hope? About my jacket? It’s nice, right?”

The woman met Ruth’s lovesick eyes and chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve seen, but I prefer Gale’s.”

Gale smiled smugly, pressing his lips firmly to her forehead, “That’s my girl. Always knew you had good taste.” 

“Well, of course, I do. I picked you didn’t I?” She grinned at him, leaning up to press her lips to his, smiling into the kiss.

“Well, that’s right. You sure a lady with a good eye,” Gale mused, nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Gale,” she chuckled, feeling his breath tickling against her collarbone, while her fingers carded through his tousled, blond locks. 

“Gaaaale,” John teased, dramatically drawing out the name with his eyes closed. “What kind of name is Gale, anyway?”

Hope’s eyes widened in amusement as Gale groaned beside her, having heard the joke a million times before. “Well, what kind of a name is Bucky?” she asked, tilting her head with a sarcastic grin. “Now Buck I can get because he’s a dashing young man, but Bucky? I don’t know…”

The group burst into laughter and John tried to send the woman a dirty look, but he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from curling into a smirk and joining in with them. Before long, he itched for a dance and stood to his feet, pulling Ruth toward the dance floor.

“I think it’s time for a dance, Ruthie.”

“Alright, I’m coming!” she giggled, sending Hope a wave as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides in her tight skirt.

The couple found themselves at the edge of the dancefloor, swaying hand in hand to the soft trumpet solo ringing through the hall. Ruth rested her head on John’s chest, calmed by the gentle thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear and his warmth as they danced. 

She could’ve stayed there in that moment forever…just her and her hotshot…just her and the man she loved. 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmured against her hair, breaking the silence between them. “I know I told you earlier, but you do.”

Lifting her head from his chest, Ruth smiled sheepishly at him. “Thank you. I don’t normally wear my dress uniform, but-”

“Oh, I’m so glad you did.”

She raised an eyebrow and slid her hands around his neck. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a smirk, his eyes drifting down to her breast pocket area that proudly displayed her pair of wings and lieutenant’s bars. “I’m a sucker for a woman in uniform.”

“So I need to worry about the WACs?”

Bucky chuckled, tugging Ruth against him. “Don’t worry. You’ve got nothing to worry about, lieutenant.”

As the music swirled around them, John’s gaze softened as he looked into her deep blues. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers in a tender kiss. Ruth’s cheeks flushed pink as she returned it, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, melting into his embrace. She felt him smile against her lips and pulled back to get a good look at him.

“What are you smiling about, Major?” she joked.

Bucky wanted to say, ‘How much I love you,’ but anxiety churned in his stomach and he couldn’t go through with it.

“Just you.”

Rolling her eyes, Ruth pecked the corner of his lips before returning her head to its place on his chest. “I’m so happy for Gale and Hope.”

“Me too,” he replied, his eyes scanning the room for the couple. “Speaking of Buck…where is he?”

Ruth joined him looking for their friends, but she had no luck and wiggled her eyebrows at Bucky. “They’re probably having some alone time.”

He sent her a mischievous smirk, and she knew what he planned to do. “Leave ‘em be, Johnny,” she groaned, sighing as he pulled her along behind him toward the door. “Don’t bother them.”

“But it’s my job to bother Buck.”

Before Ruth could respond, he flung open the side door and stuck his head outside. By the wild grin on his face, she knew he’d found them. “Hey, Lovebirds! Hurry up, you're missing the party!” 

“Five more minutes!” she heard Gale groan, and then John closed the door, a proud smirk hanging from his lips. 

“You’re terrible.”

Bucky shot her a wink and led her back to their table, settling back into their seats as they saw Gale and Hope enter the hall and begin swaying slowly. 

“Would you look at that?” John scoffed, sipping his pint and throwing an arm over the back of Ruth’s chair. “I’ve been trying to get Buck to dance for years and Hope did it in two months.”

The couple couldn’t help but watch their friends dance, both with lovesick smiles as they got lost in the song, spinning around the floor with a practiced grace that neither Ruth nor John expected. 

Buck was good at dancing.

Their concentration on the couple was broken when yells echoed through the air. Following the sound, they saw Harry throw peanuts across the table into Hugh’s mouth, laughing hysterically as Hugh caught another one. 

Ruth opened her mouth to speak but was cut off when Hope beat her to it.

“I leave you two alone for all of five minutes and you wreak havoc,” Hope tutted, patting Harry on the head like a small child. “If you choke on all those nuts Hugh, I swear…”

A giggle escaped the blonde’s lips at the comment and John chuckled beside her.

“Alright mother,” Hugh laughed, throwing one of the nuts at his sister. 

Hope and Gale took their seats beside Harry, settling easily beside each other with Gale’s hand draping lazily around her shoulder. The six of them fell into easy conversation, and soon, the table became more crowded when Veal, Crank, Brady, Blakely, and a few other airmen joined the group. Laughter and wisps of cigarette smoke filled the air as the men and the two nurses unwound, enjoying the company of friends.

Ruth remained tucked under Bucky’s arm, listening to yet another story from training in the States. This one was about a failed exercise where several forts experienced ‘equipment malfunctions’ and ‘discrepancies’ that forced them to land in or near the hometowns of family and girlfriends. 

Crank grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, the Hundredth almost got canned after that.”

“And I got demoted for the first time,” John chimed as he thought about just how many times he’d changed commands over his time with the 100th.

Eyes widening in surprise, Ruth playfully smacked his chest. “For the first time? I thought you getting demoted back to Squadron CO only happened once?”

“It would’ve been three times if LeMay would have found him or Buck that day he came to base,” Kidd added.

Nudging Buck with her shoulder, Hope smirked. “And what about you, Gale?” 

Gale shrugged as he hid a smirk behind his glass of ginger beer. “I don’t know why LeMay thought both of us were responsible for the ‘raunchy discipline’ on base.”

“So you’re sayin’ it was just me?” John asked with an incredulous grin.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I mean,” Benny started, trying to hold in a laugh as he rubbed Meatball’s head affectionately. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Buck tear up a bar with a narwhal tusk.”

Laughter erupted like a sudden burst of fireworks around the table, echoing around the lively room and drowning out the music. 

Narrowing his eyes at them, John pointed around the table.  “Technically, none of you dodos saw any of that!”

“We didn’t have to. We saw the aftermath,” Brady called out through his chuckles.

After a few moments, the laughter died down, and the large group broke into smaller conversations. 

Gale spoke quietly to Benny as Hope whispered with Hugh, and Ruth listened as Jack shared more stories of John’s escapades back in the States. Before long, the two majors went at it as they often did, but Ruth’s attention was drawn away by Hugh and Hope slinking away from the table and disappearing into the crowd.

‘This outta be good,’ she thought.

When the band slowly faded out, Ruth smirked, knowing what was most likely coming. She peered over at Gale, expecting him to be watching Hope, but he was engrossed in a conversation with Benny and didn’t seem to notice his fiancée’s absence from the seat beside him. 

The band thrummed to life, music springing out across the room in a less-than-subtle fashion that had all heads turning toward the siblings. Then Gale’s eyes found Hope’s across the room and he did a double take, glancing back at her empty chair in confusion. 

Ruth pointed at siblings, a wide smile painting her face as she whispered in John’s ear. “This is gonna be interesting. They both can sing.”

“Sparky? No way,” he griped with a grimace. “No way he’s got better pipes than me.”

Giggling, she patted his cheek lightly and turned back to the stage. “Just wait and see, hon.”

Hugh took his place in front of the microphone, encouraging Hope to do the same as he pressed his lips near the cool metal grille. The conductor gave them the queue, and she took a deep breath before singing into the microphone.

“One of our planes was missing, two hours overdue. 

Yes, one of our planes was missing with all its gallant crew,

The radio sets were hummin', they waited for the word,

Then a voice broke through that hummin',

And this is what they heard!”

The song, rather aptly chosen by Hugh for Dye’s 25th mission, began to flow easily. Hugh joined in, belting out,

“Comin' in on a wing and a prayer!”

The second Hugh’s voice rang through the speakers, the skeptical smirk on John’s lips fell, and he raised a brow at Ruth, who just rolled her eyes at his reaction.

“I told you he was good.”

“I never said he was good,” he defended.

The corners of the blonde’s eyes crinkled as she laughed. “You didn’t have to.”

Around them, some of the crowd began to join in, all looking at Dye whose cheeks were growing redder by the minute as he stood beside Lil, trying to shield his face. 

“What a show (What a show),

What a fight (What a fight).”

The instrumental section began to play, and the couple watched as Hugh took Hope’s arm and spun her around in quick concession. A wide grin spread on Ruth’s face that matched her best friend’s on stage. 

With her eyes glued on Hope, Ruth started to sing along. Her voice was slightly off-key, but she didn’t care, continuing to sing quietly where only John could hear. The man couldn’t look away from her smiling face as she sang. His gaze wandered over her face with a gentle intensity, watching how her lips moved, the slight quirk of her smile adding to her already breathtaking look.

“Yes, we really hit our target for tonight,

How we’ll sing as we limp through the air,

Look below, there’s a field over there.”

Ruth’s eyes flickered over to John and caught his gaze. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and she noticed the same vulnerable glint in his eyes as the night he told her of his past. She offered him a questioning look, silently asking what was on his mind.

Johnny’s mind raced as his lips parted slightly. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he sent her a small, reassuring smile and barely shook his head as if to say, ‘nothing.’

There was something in his eyes that Ruth couldn’t quite put it into words, but it made her heart flutter nonetheless. With a soft nod, she turned her attention back to the stage, her hand reaching for John’s beneath the table, intertwining their fingers gently.

The Major’s heart sank as Ruth turned away, his own hand squeezing hers softly in response. He cursed himself silently for his inability to tell her how he felt, and frustration bubbled up within him.

How many more opportunities would he let slip away without telling her the truth?

“With our full crew aboard,

And our trust in the Lord,

Comin’ in on a wing and a prayer.”

As the song came to a close, Hugh wrapped his arms around his sister, squeezing her hard before grasping her hand and pulling her down from the stage. Hope hopped down the best she could, ignoring the small ripping noise from her skirt that would surely be a problem later. Hugh had a little skip in his step as they made their way back to the table.

Hugh threw himself down into his chair, downing the last of his whiskey, while Hope took her seat beside Gale, his face still in awe and his lips turned upwards into the largest smile.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” He mumbled softly, kissing her cheek, letting the rough stubble on his chin graze against Hope’s cheek. 

She squirmed, laughing lightly, “Oh only about every hour that I’m on base and in every letter.”

“Good,” he mused, kissing her cheek once more, “Because you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met…” Gale was broken off by Bucky’s loud declaration. 

“What the hell was that, Sparky?” John asked with a mischievous grin, his eyebrows raised at Hugh. 

Scoffing as he settled into his chair, the lieutenant rolled his eyes. “I sounded a helluva lot better than you ever have…Isn’t that right, Croz?”

Harry’s expression dropped, his eyes widening nervously as he darted glances between Hugh and his Squadron CO, who sported a smirk and an eyebrow raised expectantly. “Uhhhhh…”

Ruth was in the middle of sipping her when the comment left Hugh’s lips, and she choked on the liquid, her hand flying to cover her mouth as she coughed, trying to regain her composure. Immediately, John’s hand on her chair moved to rub her back as he ducked to check on her, the rest of the table turning their attention to the pair. Before he could speak, she waved him off with a sheepish smile, finally managing to swallow. 

“Sorry about that,” she rasped, wiping at her eyes. “I’m alright…please continue.”

Looking around the group, Ruth met Hope’s concerned gaze and sent her a teary grin, her pale face splotchy as she caught her breath.

“Where was I?”

Bubbles chuckled under his breath before sending Hugh a smirk. “You were complimenting Bucky’s singing abilities.”

“Right! I-”

“Everyone look here!”

A flash of light momentarily blinded the group as Captain John Schwarz, the 100th’s photographer, stepped forward with his camera in hand. 

“Alright, everyone, let’s get a good one!” he called out cheerfully, adjusting the settings on his camera.

The group quickly turned toward him, and Ruth managed to put on a bright smile for the photo despite still trying to clear her throat. They all posed in their seats, and John’s arm draped casually over the blonde’s chair, her hand resting on his knee as she leaned into him.

With the click of the camera, the Captain took the picture, but before he could step back, John called out to him with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, Schwarz. Mind getting a picture of just the two of us?”

He nodded enthusiastically, adjusting the camera to focus on the couple. Bucky flashed a charming smile as he reached over and gently tugged Ruth from her chair into his lap.

“Hey!” she protested playfully, her cheeks flushing pink as John wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close.

Ruth giggled as Johnny leaned in, his cheek pressing against hers as they posed for the picture. Despite her initial protest, she found herself melting into his embrace. The photographer chuckled at their antics, capturing the moment with a few clicks of his camera. She glanced up at the Major just as Schwarz lowered his camera, and Bucky planted a soft kiss on her lips.

The table erupted into a chorus of whistles and hoots, their friends cheering them on as they kissed. Ruth laughed against John’s lips, feeling a rush of happiness and warmth enveloping her. Pulling back slightly, John gazed into her blue eyes, his own filled with pure adoration as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. 

“Alright, lovebirds. That’s enough,” Gale grinned, repeating Bucky’s words from a few minutes before. 

Schwarz moved around the table, snapping a photo of Demarco and Meatball, Hugh with poor Harry in a headlock, until he moved around to Hope and Gale. Buck stood up, leading Hope slightly away from the table, and wrapping his arms around her from behind kissing her temple. Hope grinned widely at the photographer who snapped the picture with his own smile.

Hugh appeared beside the Captain, mumbling something under his breath before moving over to the couple. 

“Could I please borrow my sister, Cleven?”

Gale looked a little forlorn as he released Hope from his embrace, stepping back towards the table. Hugh pulled his sister into his side, a bright smile on his lips as Schwarz took the photo. 

Back at the table, Hope slipped into her seat beside Gale, his arm draping over her shoulder as they got comfortable. Ruth sent her a bright smile from her position on John’s lap, and soon the group’s conversation picked back up, laughter filling the air once more. This continued for a little while longer, but when Dye made his way over with Lil under his arm, there was a shift in the air.

It was almost unnoticeable at first.

Ruth chuckled under her breath, watching John take a drag of his cigarette across the table and point to Dye as he neared the group. “There’s our very own Charlie Robertson!”

She’d moved back to her own chair when he got up to get her another ginger beer. Ruth learned her lesson with alcohol after waking up with a raging migraine the morning following John’s birthday party.

“Charlie? Who’s Charlie?” Lil asked, trailing behind Glen and smiling at John as she passed him on his way back to Ruth.

“Not me,” Hugh snickered, sipping his whiskey with a grimace. The British liquor was nothing compared to the ‘good ole American stuff,’ as he called it. In his footlocker sat an unopened bottle of VAT-69 he was saving for his own 25th mission.

No one else thought anything was wrong with the alcohol, but Hugh just had his particular taste and he stuck to that.

“1922. White Sox at Tigers. No runs, no hits, no errors,” John answered, his hand gesturing in the air with each word before sinking into the chair beside Ruth. He kissed her on the cheek quickly, scooting his seat closer to her until their shoulders touched and she wrapped her arm around his bicep, whispering into his ear.

“He threw the last perfect game, right?”

“Sure did,”  he grinned, shooting her a wink. “Way to go, Slugger.”

Benny nodded from beside Hope and Gale, not having heard the blonde. “Yeah, he’s the last guy to throw a perfect game.”

“Til’ now!”

“You get to go home before Florida?” Jack asked, but the conversation soon Ruth faded as she turned her gaze to John with a fond smile. She traced the outline of his face, her eyes trailing over the dark pink scars from Regensburg, the slope of his nose, his mustache, and the natural pout of his lips…the soft lips she’d kissed dozens of times. The warmth of his touch seeped through her uniform, and a feeling of contentment washed over her. 

Over the last week, the couple exchanged multiple letters corresponding about the party and how each was doing, but John mainly raved about how much he liked his birthday present. 

‘Doll, I think I’m hooked…’ John wrote two days after the party.

She was broken from her inner dialogue when the toothy grin on John’s face suddenly fell, and Ruth’s heart jolted in concern as she became aware of the hush that fell over the group

“We’re all that’s left, aren’t we?” 

At Glen’s question, her eyes quickly scanned those around them and found that all the airmen shared the same pained and exhausted look. Curt’s smiling face flashed in her mind…a reminder of the sacrifices of the heroes from the 100th. 

Hope’s wandering eyes met Ruth’s across the table, and she sent her a weary frown at the way the lively men quieted, each lost in their thoughts. 

Blakely spoke first, breaking the silence that fell over the group “12 crews out of-”

“35 that flew in from Greenland,” Crank finished.

With his lips in a tight line, Bucky nodded solemnly. “That’s right.”

Ruth reached out, her free hand finding John’s atop his chair’s armrest, squeezing it gently. He didn’t meet her gaze, but she felt him deflate slightly beside her just before Gale began to speak.

“We’re just happy for you, Dye.”

“That’s right. We are,” John added, his voice deepening as he raised his glass. “Very happy for you. Very happy.”

Glen held out his drink to the group. “And to all the fellas that aren’t here tonight, who should’ve been.”

The table broke out into quiet mumbles of agreement as they all lifted their glasses in a toast before tipping them back. Ruth’s ginger beer fizzed as it traveled down her throat, and beside her, John downed the rest of the amber liquid in his glass, unfazed. She watched him stare at the tabletop in front of them for a few seconds until Dye’s voice filled the air.

“Gentlemen…and ladies, I’m gonna go check on the boys, make sure they aren’t celebrating too hard without me.”

As he walked away with Lil tugged against his side, John’s eyes followed them and he pointed in their direction, muttering, “Charlie Robertson,” under his breath.

The jovial atmosphere from before shattered as the group remained quiet despite the raging party around them. And to think…John’s day had started off so well, had gone off without a hitch until that very moment.

He got to see Ruth, and Dye made it back from his 25th Mission, but as Bucky leaned back in his chair, he couldn’t help but be bothered by all the new faces and the lack of old ones.

Even Ruth’s presence beside him wasn’t enough to quell the rising anger and frustration that swirled in his stomach when he thought of the numbers. 

Out of 35 crews that flew in from Greenland, only 12 remained. 

120 men out of 350…230 gone in the matter of a few months. 

‘Will we all just be another number? Another crew marked off the list until replacements come and fill the huts like we never existed in the first place?’ 

These questions floated in his mind while his gaze stayed on the empty glass in front of him. “I’m, uh, gonna get another drink. I’ll be back,” he announced quickly, rising from his chair and turning toward the bar. Ruth’s anxious eyes followed him before she glanced back at Hope.

Buck watched him go with a pang of concern and kissed Hope on the temple, promising his return before he got up and followed after his friend. The women shared a knowing look as they watched the men they loved disappear into the crowd. Seemingly following their Majors, the rest of the men got up and trailed after them a few minutes later, leaving Hope and Ruth alone at the table.

“I’m worried,” Ruth muttered, chewing her bottom lip nervously. “What happens if John or Gale don’t make it back one-”

Hope cut her off quickly and moved to sit beside her.  “Hey. They’re going to be fine, Rue. Before long, we’re gonna be celebrating their 25th mission, alright?”

“Alright,” she whispered as her gaze fell to the table.

The dance floor cleared over the next few minutes, and just a few couples remained dancing. In the middle of the floor was Helen, wrapped up in the arms of an airman they’d never seen before. Wide grins grew on their faces as they watched her place a few kisses against the dark-headed stranger’s jawline. Over his shoulder, Helen’s eyes wandered to the two women sitting alone, and Ruth smiled, giving her a thumbs up as Hope winked at her.

Feeling someone’s gaze on her, Hope scanned the room, meeting the familiar but concerned blues of Gale across the room from where he leaned against the bar beside John. They talked to yet another new airman the girls had never met, but even she could see the grimace on Bucky’s face as he leaned closer to the man, gesturing his hands out.

She glanced over at Ruth who thankfully was too busy tidying up the mess the men left before returning her eyes to her fiancée. In the few seconds she’d looked away, the replacement airman disappeared, and the two Majors stood alone.

“Come on, Rue. Let’s rejoin the party, shall we?” Hope asked, rising to her feet and offering Ruth her hand with a forced smile.

She knew something was up with John. She could tell by Gale’s body language alone.

The blonde took her hand, allowing Hope to lead them towards the men. But just as they passed Helen and the dancing soldier, Colonel Harding and Major Bowman stepped through the doors and sauntered over the bar, a fat cigar hanging from Chick’s lips. 

“My boys!”

Not wanting to interrupt, the women stood on the outskirts of the group, moving to stand beside Tatty, even though both Buck and Johnny sent them a questioning look. Ruth scanned Bucky’s face, but her smile fell when she immediately noticed the line between his brows and the muscle twitching in his jaw.

“Listen up! I just had a mood-killing conversation with Doc Stover. He thinks you sissies could be getting flack happy.”

“No, not us, sir,” the airmen chorused.

“I told him war is war. The longer you go at it, the more it screws a man up. And it’s been that way since the first caveman son of a bitch picked up a club and went after the other. Did cavemen go for head-shrinking?”

As the men shook their heads, Ruth and Hope shared a wary glance. 

Where was this going?

“No! Damn sure not! What counts is that you soldiers show up ready and able to fight. What you do between battles…” Harding trailed off with a chuckle, smirking as he took a drag of his cigar.

Hope watched as Buck remained stoic, no reaction on his face, but John looked over at Ruth, sending her a wink. “I like your style, sir!”

For the first time, Bucky’s wink didn’t make her heart skip a beat…it made it drop into her stomach. His grin was so clearly forced that her mind went haywire, and he was the only thing she could focus on. Sensing the blonde finally picked up on John’s demeanor, Hope silently intertwined their hands, squeezing Ruth’s reassuringly.

Red broke his silence, shaking his head slightly as he spoke. “Aerial combat like this hasn’t been around since the caveman, sir.”

“Of course not, Red. Every war has its novelties,” Harding dismissed the Major, turning to look at the dance hall. A few seconds later, his demeanor changed, and his voice grew serious. “Who the hell decorated this fiesta?”

Everyone looked around the group before Jack hesitantly spoke. “I put together a committee, sir.”

Craning their heads to see around the Colonel, the women confusedly searched the hall for what he possibly could be upset about, but had no such luck.

“The damned plane looks like it’s in a nosedive.”

The sound of chuckles filled the air as John grinned over at Ruth. “Fire ‘em. Fire the committee…Ruth can decorate next time.”

She did her best to smile back at him, but it was just as forced as the grin on his lips.

“I won’t bother next time,” Kidd muttered.

Harding seemed to move on and faced the men again, waving them all closer. “Come on, get in. Come here. Got something to tell ‘ya.”

Hope and Ruth stepped forward, watching the Colonel over Tatty’s shoulder, their eyes moving between their Majors and the CO. 

“You know how we could end this whole thing tonight?” Chick asked, his face scrunched into a half-grimace as he leaned into the group. “We fill up one of our forts with as many 500-pounders as she can hold, we bomb the hell out of Hitler’s hidey-hole.”

The grin on Johnny’s face fell, and he tilted his face to the floor with slightly pursed lips for a moment before returning his gaze to Harding. His forced smiles and strained banter only added to the underlying tension in the room. Ruth’s fingers tightened around Hope’s hand, seeking reassurance as Chick continued.

“I’m sure Red and Bubbles could locate that mustachioed little fucker.”

Bubbles grinned proudly. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, now who’s flack happy?”

The second the words left John’s mouth, Ruth’s heart plummeted, and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She held her breath waiting for what would happen next.

What happened in the last few minutes to change his attitude completely?

All the officer’s went silent, shooting each other worried looks while Bucky and Harding stared at each other.

“Who?”

“You are,” John nodded, his expression bearing no trace of any amusement.

Harding smirked, “You are.”

“No, you are,” Egan leaned forward, thwacking Harding’s chest with his hand. “Sir.” 

The next few seconds seemed to stretch on for hours as the atmosphere became even more tense, the room seeming to hold its breath. Gale quickly glanced over at Hope, his eyes filled with concern, much like the rest of the officers. The blonde beside her didn’t notice Buck, unable to tear her eyes away from John, who looked like he was teetering on the edge of an outburst.

The Major and the Colonel stared at each other until a smirk broke out on Chick’s face and he chuckled, the rest of the group following suit when the tension eased.

“Mmm, Single fillies. Come on, boys. Let’s get the lead out!” Harding smirked, taking a drag from his cigar, and left the party with Red trailing behind him.

The officers dispersed out onto the dance floor, leaving John, Gale, Hope, Ruth, and Benny at the bar. 

Gale turned to catch Hope’s eye, his face saying ‘hold on while I talk to him’. Hope nodded in agreement, catching Ruth’s arm and leading her away from their men. 

“What about John?” Ruth looked hastily over her shoulder for him, meeting his conflicted eyes momentarily, but Hope pulled her on. 

“Gale’s going to talk to him, it’ll be okay. They’ve been through a lot, remember? It’s bound to catch up with them all at some point, and we just need to be here to help them if they fall.” Hope led her back to the table, sitting her down and placing the glass of ginger beer in front of her. 

Hope hated watching Ruth’s worried eyes keep darting back toward the boys, but she knew that her own eyes kept drifting back to Gale’s. If this evening had taught her anything, it was that life was more precious than they could ever realize, and each moment should be cherished. 

They needed a distraction from their anxieties, and Hope blurted the first story that came to mind.

“Do you remember that day when you were new to the Grove and you walked in on Frank naked?” 

The blonde’s cheeks immediately heated up as she buried her head in her hands, “How could I forget? I’d only known the man for three days.”

Hope laughed too, “Well, it could be worse. On my first day on base, he nearly ran me over with a jeep. That was before he realized I was on his plane. He bought me a beer that same evening to apologize.” 

Ruth laughed, imagining a younger Hope giving Frank hell for trying to run her down. 

“We had a medical technician on our plane with us back then. Joseph was his name. He was a right pretty boy…thought he was the bee's knees but I soon told him otherwise.” 

Ruth chuckled, knowing Hope probably gave the poor boy hell. It was strange thinking back to when they first came to the Grove, the airbase that had quickly become their home and safe haven. 

“It seems like a lifetime ago that I met you, Hope. I thought you hated me at first.”

“Oh, I didn’t hate you…I just thought you weren’t going to make it,” Hope replied honestly, feeling slightly guilty about how she’d misjudged her best friend. “You soon proved me wrong though, Rue. You’re a good nurse.” 

Hope looked up as Gale approached them, smiling brightly at her while John still stood near the bar still looking quite somber. Ruth stood up, quickly excusing herself as she made her way over to the bar, resting her hand against John’s arm.

“Hey,” she whispered, her blue eyes filled with worry. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

He nodded, allowing her to take his hand and tug him to the door.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she finally asked when they excited the club into the English night, her voice soft with concern.

John pursed his lips and a flicker of hesitation crossed his features before he shrugged. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

“John,” Ruth urged, her voice hardening as she gave him the look that always made her students squirm in their seats. 

And her tone…it was only used when dealing with problem students, the ones who lied directly to her face when she already knew the truth.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “I’m fine.”

“What was that, then?” Ruth pressed, refusing to let it go. She needed to know exactly what was wrong…needed to help him in whatever way she could.

But how could he tell her the truth?

He could go down the next day and it would be like he never was there in the first place. Gone like the 230 men they’d lost.

How was he supposed to tell the woman he loved that she could lose him in the blink of an eye?

That he could lose her just the same?

That he couldn’t write another life-shattering letter to a boy’s family?

His nervousness to confess his feelings was replaced with guilt, anger, and frustration that compounded in his chest, creating a volatile mixture that was bound to explode. 

“Nothing,” he insisted, his tone growing defensive. “Like I said.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” Ruth pleaded as she grasped his hand, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know-”

The flood he’d been trying to hold back finally broke, and his voice raised just a fraction as he pulled his hand from hers. “Damn it, Ruth. I said I’m fine!”

The sharpness of his tone caught the woman off guard, and she recoiled slightly, blinking furiously to hold back the tears threatened to fill her eyes. “I’m just trying to help,” she whispered.

Without another word, she turned and walked back into the dance, leaving Bucky standing there in the chilly night. His hands moved to his hips as his chest heaved, the anger slowly leaving his body and morphing into guilt as his mind replayed her baby blues shining with tears and the tremble in her voice.

He was supposed to be a better man, someone worthy of her, and what did he do at the first chance?

Despite the mix of emotions within him, Johnny knew she was only trying to help, only trying to be there for him, and he’d raised his voice at her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before following after her, his heart pounding in his chest.

Pushing open the door and stepping inside, the sounds of the party filled Bucky’s ears, but for once, he couldn’t bring himself to care that the band played ‘Blue Skies’. His eyes scanned the bustling club and caught a glimpse of her blonde hair disappearing into the women’s bathroom.

John hesitated where he stood in the middle of the club, lost and unsure of what to do next. He knew he needed to talk to her, to make things right, but he also didn’t want to intrude on her privacy. Frustratingly running a hand over his mouth, he caught sight of Gale on the dance floor where he swayed slowly with Hope. Buck’s brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced in the direction Ruth had gone over Hope’s shoulder. With a nod of his head, he silently urged Johnny to go after her. 

It was the push that he needed to make a decision.

Swallowing thickly, he approached the bathroom door and knocked, his knuckles rapping against the wood gently. “Ruthie, can I come in?”

His heart sank when he heard sniffles from inside.

“Please,” John murmured softly, his voice barely audible through the door.

A few seconds ticked by and he was about to ask again when the door clicked open, giving him a view of her reddened and splotchy face. Ruth backed up, allowing him to slowly push in the door. She stood before him with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, barely meeting his gaze as her eyes remained on the floor. John silently stepped into the room and closed the door behind him gently, muffling the sounds of the party outside.

They stood there silently for a few moments until Ruth finally looked up at him, quickly wiping a tear from her cheek as she chewed on her bottom lip. 

“Come here,” he mumbled, pulling her softly into his chest, running a hand up and down her back. “I’m sorry, doll. So sorry.”

Ruth stiffened for a moment before relaxing against him, burying her face into his chest.

“I’m not mad at you. I just,” he sighed against her hair. “I hate myself for making you upset. I know you’re just trying to help me.”

She lifted her head from his chest and broke her silence, her voice wavering. “Then talk to me.”

John stared at her for a moment, running his fingers through her hair gently as he thought of a way to explain what he felt…the weight he felt on his shoulders. “There’s nothing you can do about it, Ruth,” he muttered, his face tilting to the ground.

“I don’t care,” the nurse answered quietly, reaching up and gently lifting his face to meet her teary gaze. "Just…just please don’t shut me out.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence as Bucky nodded to himself with his lips pulled into a tight line. When he finally found the words, his voice was barely audible as he fought to keep his composure. 

“You heard Crank earlier. We’ve lost so many boys, and I-,” he cleared his throat, looking over her shoulder at the wall while fighting the burning sensation in his eyes. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Ruth’s heart broke at his confession, and she cupped his cheeks and pulled him down to her, their foreheads pressing together.

“John, you are going to get through this. We are going to get through this,” Ruth whispered. “I’m right here, and I don’t plan on going anywhere. You can talk to me, alright?”

He released a shuddering breath against her face, allowing his eyes to flutter shut as he savored the feeling of her warm touch. The three words he’d been meaning to say all night danced on the tip of his tongue but refused to pour from his lips.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I-”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” she interrupted, her thumb caressing his cheekbone lightly. “I know I don’t say it enough, but thank you. You make me so happy, Johnny.”

Bucky raised his hand to cover her much smaller one on his cheek as he sent her a soft smile. “I should be the one thanking you. You…you mean everything to me, Ruth. Everything. And I’m so sorry for talking to you like-”

“Just kiss me,” she whispered, her eyes flicking to his lips.

John immediately obeyed, tilting his head to connect their lips softly, their worries fading away as they lost themselves in each other. Ruth’s hands slid from his face to the nape of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss with an eagerness he’d never seen from her before. He fought against every instinct in him urging him to take things farther, but she deserved more than that…they both did.

As they pulled away from the kiss, they remained wrapped in the other’s arms, their breaths mingling in the air between them. John’s gaze softened as he looked into Ruth’s eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He noticed the remnants of tears still clinging to her lashes, her eyes red and puffy, and his hand raised to brush her hair behind her ear.

“I’m getting a weekend pass to London,” he said breathlessly, nervously peering down at her. “Come with me.”

Ruth grinned and pecked his lips again softly. “I’d want nothing more.”

In that moment, with Ruth in his arms, John Egan vowed London would be the place…would be the time he’d confess his love for her. 

How he couldn’t imagine life without her.

London…it would be the place that everything changed.

Monday, September 20th: AAF Grove, Berkshire: 0700 HRS: 7 AM

Hope let out a long sigh as the C-47’s wheels left the runway in one swoop, rising above the airstrip and leaving the base far below them as they climbed into the clouds. Frank talked quietly to Bill in the cockpit, and both girls couldn’t help but smile at their pilot's antics. He was a good pilot, but as a mentor, he was a hard task-master, and Bill was being put through his paces. Ruth pulled John’s latest letter from her pocket, rereading his words with a small smile.

September 17th My Ruth, Hey, slugger. I hope you’ve had a good few days. Have your runs been okay? Has Frank been nice to you? You know I won’t hesitate to rough him up if not. I have been unable to keep my mind off of you…as usual. Schwarz developed the pictures from the party yesterday, and I’ve found myself staring at our photo for longer than I’d like to admit. You’re just so beautiful…the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on…have I told you that? Schwarz also gave each Buck and Hugh individual pictures of them with Hope. I’m pretty sure Buck is sending copies of the letter he’s writing from his bunk. You’ll find one of us in this envelope, as well. I’m sure you’ll love it just as much as I do. I keep my copy in my breast pocket, next to my heart so you’ll be with me everywhere I go. When I start to spiral, I just look at you and your smiling face, and I remember what all this is for. Every day I ask myself how I got so lucky that you landed on my base out of the hundreds scattered around England, and after months of wondering, I still have no explanation.  All I know is that I kiss the lucky cross around my neck every time I leave and come back from a mission, thanking Mrs. Virginia Morgan that I made it back to the ground…back to you. I still can’t believe you wouldn’t take it back, Ruthie, but I promise to keep it safe until you’re ready to.  I can’t wait to take you to London, doll. Did your CO approve your leave? I can try to pull some strings if she doesn’t. Maybe I could give her a call and use my charm to convince her? What do you think? Stay safe up there for me, alright? Yours Completely, John Egan P.S. The Yankees swept the Athletics in their series, keeping their 9-game win streak alive. We’ve got the American League in the bag! What do I always say? The Yankees always end on top! Remember that, doll. You’ll be hearing it a lot after we win the World Series next month.

Both women received letters from their Majors late the night before and immediately wrote their responses, promising to send them the following morning. But when they were called up for a run before dawn, both dashed to the post room before hurrying back to ‘The Angel.’ 

“So how is the hotshot then?” Hope asked with a grin, amused by Ruth’s embarrassed expression, her pale cheeks blushing deeply. 

“How do you know I call him that?” Ruth asked curiously, but Hope just shook her head with a chuckle. 

“Ruth, you've read his letters out loud enough times when I’m around that I’ve basically read them myself.” The blonde nodded slowly, half listening to Hope and the other half of her too engrossed in John’s words as she reread them again. After a few moments, she looked up from the letter.

“I wrote to my parents about John the other day,” Ruth called out over the engine’s whine, a fond smile on her lips.

“Oh yeah?”

The blonde nodded. “Yeah.”

“What all did you tell them?” Hope asked with a raised brow.

Ruth’s innocent smile turned into a mischievous smirk as she chuckled to herself. “Well, my Mama always reads the letters, so I wrote the basics for her to tell my Dad and Jamie, but gave her all the details.”

“John’s right,” she laughed. “You are a sneaky woman.”

Shrugging, Ruth pulled out the picture he sent from her pocket, her heart fluttering as she studied it, tracing the lines of John’s face on the small photo. She was glad to finally have a piece of Johnny to carry around with her, being able to whip it out whenever she missed him or just wanted to see his handsome face.

The plane rocked from side to side as they gained altitude, and the large metal bird flew ‘through the ‘gate’ as Frank liked to call it as she moved to full throttle, soaring up into the clouds. 

“Stop being a clot,” Frank hissed to Bill, flicking a few switches in the cockpit with a long sigh, “You know what you’re doing kid, but shit, try using your head sometimes okay?” 

“Yes Sir,” Bill nodded shyly, turning his attention back to the plane's control panel. The girls smiled at each other, listening to the two men bickering in the cockpit

“Where do you think the boys are right now?” Ruth asked, looking up nervously at Hope. She always worried when she thought of where their men could be. The thought of them in harm's way made her sick to the stomach. 

Were they flying like girls were? Were they in danger? 

Hope slouched in her seat as the plane leveled out, “I don’t know, Rue. I’d like to think that they’re at Thorpe Abbotts. Hugh’s probably getting into some sort of trouble or terrorizing poor Harry Crosby. John is probably having some coffee with his whiskey about now at breakfast.” This caused Ruth to laugh lightly at the thought of John’s usual morning routine.

“What about Gale?” 

Hope took a little longer to reply this time. “I think Gale would… well I don’t know. He’s probably either eating breakfast with John, walking Meatball, or he’s with his baby.” 

“His baby?” Ruth sputtered, cocking her head and looking at her friend for the answer.

“His Fort, ‘Our Baby’,” Hope laughed, watching as Ruth nodded, understanding the men’s attachment to their Forts. She guessed they all felt the same way about their own plane, although Ruth thought if she never had to fly again it would be a blessing. 

The pair soon fell into silence, both organizing their mussette bags for the hundredth time, as if they hadn’t checked all their supplies pre-flight. Hope moved up to the cockpit to check in with the pilots while Ruth moved along the racks of supplies, laying out fresh blankets on each cot, humming an Artie Shaw song to herself as she went.

“How’s it going up here, boys?” Hope leant over Frank’s shoulder, watching as the cloudy sky unfolded before them. 

“Can’t complain,” Frank replied plainly. “I think Billy Boy here is getting the hang of things at last.” The young pilot grinned at the compliment and Hope couldn’t help the sense of pride that filled her chest. They’d had several copilots training with Frank, but Bill was definitely the girl's favorite. 

Looking back out the window, Hope pointed towards the dark clouds erupting ahead of them. 

“Hey Frank, what’s that up ahead? That’s not what I think it is…right?”

“That, my dear Hope, is flak fire,” he said regretfully. “Looks like we’re heading to the movies. I suggest you girls grab a seat…Ruth may want a blindfold for this next part.” 

Hope swallowed, nodding quickly before rushing back to her seat. Bill talked quickly to Frank in the cockpit but remained calm, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t been through before. 

Ruth’s fearful eyes widened as Hope explained what Frank had told her before swiftly strapping herself into her seat. Her mind raced at all the terrible outcomes that could occur. 

What happens if they go down? 

What would happen if they just blew up over Germany? 

She tried to put on a brave face but she knew Hope would see right through it, she always did. 

The plane swerved as flak erupted around them, swooping and diving as the black clouds and wuffs from the Ack-Acks flew wildly around them. Hope and Ruth were thrown around in their seats as the plane swerved, flack bursts shaking the bird. They were very grateful that they always secured all their supplies and stretchers down pre-flight.

Hope’s fingers dug into the metal seat and her eyes closed as her stomach flipped in circles with each turn. She’d not had any issues with her motion sickness since her training, but the urge to vomit up her breakfast only grew as the bile rose in the back of her throat. 

Ruth opposite from her was as white as a sheet, her already pale face now the color of a corpse with her lips set in a thin worried line. Her teeth clenched tightly together and her eyes squeezed shut as flack pierced through the plane's fuselage above her head. 

“Shit!” Ruth shrieked, covering her head with her hands.

“You okay, Rue?” Hope shouted over the noise of the war around them. A glossy-eyed and panting Ruth only nodded quickly in response.

Bullets ripped through the riveted sheets of the fuselage with a series of metallic pings, piercing through easily and sending metal flying into the cabin like confetti. With the chaos surrounding them, Ruth barely noticed when a piece of shrapnel flew past her face, just grazing her temple. Flak fire continued to blast in the air surrounding the skytrain and the noise was deafening to everyone inside. 

How could anyone think strategically in these conditions? 

“OH FUCK!” Frank’s voice shouted from the cockpit as he leaned over to Bill, “Stay with me, kid.” Bill’s lifeless body lay wide-eyed staring straight ahead, his young face frozen, expressionless. “DAMMIT!” 

“What’s wrong, Frank?” Hope called out as she unbuckled herself and stumbled from her seat, edging her way towards him. 

Ruth’s eyes widened. “Hope! What are you doing?!”

She simply sent her a worried glance, seeing the blood trickling down Ruth’s cheek before disappearing from view, and the blonde stared at her in disbelief. When another burst sent burning hot metal through the plane’s fuselage around her, Ruth’s eyes clenched shut, her head bowing as she mumbled a prayer for them, her hand instinctively reaching up for her usual comfort… her necklace….her lucky necklace that now hung around the neck of John Egan.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…”

In the cockpit, Frank didn’t turn to face Hope when he spoke, his eyes trained on the incoming fire from the Messerschmitts flying in all directions around them. 

“We have been fucked by the fickle finger of fate and today is not our day. We’re down to one engine and she isn’t sounding too healthy. We’re littered with holes and,” he paused, his throat constricting as he motioned to the young boy who lay dead beside him. “And the Krauts…they got Billy.” 

The plane juddered and smoke poured from the remaining engine with a horrendous screech as Frank took a steadying breath. The next words to leave his lips sent a shiver down Hope’s spine. 

They were the ones every airman, flight nurse, and pilot prayed they’d never have to hear…

“There goes the last engine. We’re going down!”

Tag List: @xxluckystrike @precious-little-scoundrel @bcofl0ve @violetdaze25 @docroesmorphine @kmc1989 @gfofsadie @artlover8992 @karashaw99 @dustyjumpwjngs @camicanos-blog @storysimp @b00ks1ut @sunny747 @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok @yoongiscxr @blueberry-ovaries @sidneysidney123 @p-polaroid @ginabaker1666 @yorkshirekiwi @barrykeoghussy @slowsweetlove @groovin2beats @imusicaddict @imaginationlover101 @justheretoreadthhx

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list! <3

[tiofrean]

If you haven't, just go and read Ajax's story. Thank me later. Horror warning... no wait, THE BEST HORROR warning <3

[sassenashsworld]

I have just returned from a 4-day drive Montreal/Boston to follow the first steps of the American revolution and this man who I admire since I was a child and who still has grows within me with the fallout reference: John Hancock.

It was a beautiful journey full of revelations and I cannot recommend enough to people who have not done so to do it...

But as a fanfiction author, that’s another point of view that the journey has revealed to me. The shock SoSu gets when they comes out of the shelter must be even worse than anything I could have imagined because the Vermont, the New Hampshire and the Massachusetts are incredibly beautiful.

The respect for trees and nature in these regions is incredible and the pride of the inhabitants for their heritage as well.

There is not a corner of everything I have seen that is not cared for and that the inhabitants do not care for with religious love and shining pride.

And I’ve seen a lot of them--even in just four days.

I already had the intention to rewrite my fanfiction because I have developed a lot my English since I started it, but there may be major changes...

I think that this love and pride of Boston and the surrounding area, faced with the destruction of everything that was important in the America Spirit is something major.

Look forward to the new version of Silver’s adventures, there will be a complete change up-- (and at the same time, the next chapter of Heartbeat should come out soon)

[lpmurphy]

Of the Care and Keeping of Spartans Master List

Spring in Tchakova Park Full work on AO3 Spotify Playlist

Pairings: John-117/OC Status: Completed Summary:

Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice.

Chapter One: Lights on the Water

Chapter Two: The Jungle

Chapter Three: Goose

Chapter Four: The Rock

Chapter Five: Picture Frames

Chapter Six: Gold Visor, Hazel Eyes

Chapter Seven: First Aid

Chapter Eight: Headboards (NSFW)

Chapter Nine: Family Dynamics

Chapter Ten: Anthuriums

Chapter Eleven: Conversations

Chapter Twelve: Pillow Talk (NSFW)

Chapter Thirteen: Meet the Parents

Chapter Fourteen: Eavesdropping

Chapter Fifteen: Confessions

Chapter Sixteen: Arrivals

Chapter Seventeen: Downtown

Chapter Eighteen: Flashes and Blinks

Chapter Nineteen: Bathroom Conversations

Chapter Twenty: All Too Well

Chapter Twenty-One: Headboards Volume 2 (NSFW)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Girlhood

Chapter Twenty-Three: Fishies

Chapter Twenty-Four: Night Swim

Chapter Twenty-Five: Gúta (NSFW)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Carvings

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Persephone

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sunshine

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Scarf

Chapter Thirty: Cultivation

Chapter Thirty-One: Incursion

Chapter Thirty-Two: Ignorant Innocence

Chapter Thirty-Three: Home

Chapter Thirty-Four: Epilogue- Spring in the Highland Mountains

Something Borrowed: A Sequel AO3 Spotify Playlist

Pairings: John-117/OC, Background Riz/Vannak Status: Completed 9/6/24 Summary

Springtime on Reach had always been Violet's favorite season. She had always adored the mild temperatures, the flowers and greenery in constant bloom and the beauty it brought to Tchakova Park. Meeting John beside the pond the year before had only given her another reason to love the spring. But, on a May evening beside a lake in the Highland Mountains, Violet found yet another reason to love springtime.

In which the 117s tie the knot, Cortana becomes an unlicensed therapist, Kai and Vannak organize a bachelorette party, and Riz plans a wedding.

Chapter One: The Desert

Chapter Two: Sisters

Chapter Three: The View From Tchakova Park

Chapter Four: Cinnamon Whiskey (NSFW)

Chapter Five: Housekeeping

Chapter Six: Tests

Chapter Seven: Cleansing

Chapter Eight: Discoveries

Chapter Nine: Orange Juice

Chapter Ten: Mer

Chapter Eleven: Something in the Orange

Chapter Twelve: Best Friends

Chapter Thirteen: Fog

Chapter Fourteen: Q&A

Chapter Fifteen: Group Message

Chapter Sixteen: Nightmares

Chapter Seventeen: Last Minute (NSFW)

Chapter Eighteen: Threads

Chapter Nineteen: Lamby

Chapter Twenty: Balloons and Streamers

Chapter Twenty One: Marco Polo

Chapter Twenty Two: Bachelorette Part 1

Chapter Twenty Three: Bachelorette Part 2

Chapter Twenty Four: The Morning After

Chapter Twenty Five: Bubbe Fran

Chapter Twenty Six: Becoming

Chapter Twenty Seven: Promises

Chapter Twenty Eight: Empty Chair

Chapter Twenty Nine: 117

Chapter Thirty: Epilogue- Someday Came Two Years Later

The View Between Villages Read on AO3

Status: In Progress (1/3)

Summary:

'This wasn’t home. It felt like someone else belonged here, and perhaps someone else did. He stopped being the boy who did the moment he called on that coin. Childhood came spinning to an end as soon as it came up heads.'

In which Violet receives orders to Eridanus II, and John brings his wife home.

Part One: Cold

Of Mothers and Bedtime Stories Read on AO3

Status: Complete Summary:

“Daddy?” Hailey called. “Yeah, babygirl?” “What’s your mommy’s name?” “Catherine.”

A line of questioning from a very curious five year old forces Violet to consider her feelings towards the woman that created her husband, and what she means to him.

[threshergm]

Honeymoon

An experimental one-shot to see if I can figure out how to write John and Talia being intimate and affectionate with one another. Turned out pretty good, I think. Now I just need to figure out how to get them from strangers meeting on a battlefield to this, haha. Missing Pieces will be posted, some day! Still working on it. @lpmurphy @authortobenamedlater @mrtobenamedlater @pelgraine @ageless-aislynn @inthatfandom @whirlybirbs @fabulaprima @silverpelt3600 @halofanfiction @thefinaljediknight @eureka-its-zico @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask @t65flyer @makowrites

_______________________________________________________

The rental kiva was spacious; but Talia wasn't surprised, this was an ONI psyop, after all, and they'd spared no expense. John had held her hand as they'd wound their way up the flagstone path set into the hillside, insisting on carrying their bags, as if her arm hadn't fully healed months ago. The entranceway was wide and curved, wrapping around the shape of the cliffside it was set into. An open building style, the entranceway blended into a living room with an open hearth, which transformed into a spacious kitchen next to a dining table for six. The only interior walls were to the left and rear, the first containing a frosted glass door, and the second a door of polished oak and slightly ajar, revealing a bedroom with a single large bed. Talia's heart fluttered at the implication. It was a honeymoon rental, after all.

"Wait here," John said, setting their bags down gently near the front door. He walked slowly - somehow silent, even in boots - right hand hovering over his hip, where Talia knew he carried his sidearm concealed under his jacket. With Spartan reflexes, no one could beat him on the draw. He came first to the frosted door, sliding it aside quickly, right hand steady over his hip. Seeing nothing, he moved quickly back to the bedroom, drew his sidearm and cleared the larger room with it at high ready just as quickly. John came back to Talia at a fast walk, looking sheepish and holstering his sidearm, tugging the jacket back over it.

"We're secure. Sorry. Old habits." 

Talia smiled, shaking her head, "A lifetime of training, and it's your first vacation. Don't be sorry." She smiled that patient, slightly bemused smile, like she was schooling a clueless tourist on how to use their transit card on the Metro. John scooped up their bags and carried them to the small card table in the living room, setting them down with a thud, while Talia looked around. She had only been out of the big cities a handful of times in her life, but everyone born on Reach knew what a kiva looked like. So many holovid dramas were set in places like the Highland Mountains. Hardy first-generation pioneers scraping out a living among the jagged peaks, titanium prospectors looking to strike the motherlode, honest folk struggling to save the family farm. The reality of the rental kiva wasn't quite so rustic, but you could see that history in the hand-carved oaken furniture, woolen rugs on the polished instacrete floors, and real wood-burning fireplace in the living room. Through the large picture windows facing east, she could even see a flock of moa pecking at the hillside.

Talia pulled her coat off, while John walked over to the fireplace. Open hearth with a cylindrical chimney leading up and through the polished instacrete ceiling; the staff had helpfully left a box of pre-cut kindling and crumpled paper on the rim of the hearth. John hadn't lit a campfire since survival training as a child, but it came back to him, as he arranged the fuel, kindling, and tinder in a pyramid. He was fishing for matches at the bottom of the box, when he felt Talia's hands glide over his shoulders, and reach for the lapels of his jacket.

John used to flinch when she touched him. He didn't flinch anymore.

Talia peeled his jacket off his back, and walked over to the wall, hanging it on the line of steel coat hooks next to her own. As she returned, her hand pulled the tight band keeping her hair back in a low pony and shook it out, wavy locks cascading over her shoulders. John's heart skipped a beat, mind flashing back to how she'd looked at the Marine Corps Birthday Ball; hair up and pinned to perfection, neck elegant, skin exuding the warmth of the ruby-red dress she wore, and smile as radiant as the sun cresting the horizon in low orbit. Warmth crept up his neck from the spots Talia's palms had brushed his shoulders. Talia returned to his side, and her hand found the small of his back, rubbing it gently. The skin on John’s arms prickled at the contact, and he hoped she didn’t notice.

“I wonder what the others are doing? Vannak has command of Silver Team when you’re not around, right?” She smiled as he struck a match, touching it to the small mound of paper atop the wooden pyramid. The flames took, spreading downwards into the kindling, and the kiva was quickly filled with the hiss and pop of burning hardwood. John glanced at Talia, warmth spreading from his neck down into his chest as he noticed the flames dancing in her umber eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to focus. “I know exactly what they’re doing. I left orders that they take ten days leave, duties permitting. It didn’t feel right, taking a… vacation, if they couldn’t do the same. Even booked a hotel for them downtown; some place called The Savoy. Supposed to be nice. I paid.” Talia cocked her head, “John… The Savoy is, like, six stars. The best in the city - no, the best on the planet. How can you afford that on an NCO’s salary?” John shrugged, “I’ve been drawing pay since I was six years old and never had anything to spend it on. If I’m going to spend it on anything, I want to spend it on them.” Talia’s hand crept upwards from the small of his back to rub between his shoulder blades, eyes on the way the firelight flickered across his stubbled cheeks and jawline as she smiled. “I love how good you are to your team.” “They’re my family,” John’s eyes met her own now, holding them in a steady gaze, “You’re my family now too.” “Yeah?” Talia’s breath caught in her throat, her gaze dancing between his hazel-green eyes and his lips, gliding closer as her heart began to thunder in her chest. “Yeah.” They brushed lips; experimental, as if fighters in the ring, feeling each other out. Second contact was more committed, Talia’s hand reaching up to cup the back of John’s head, palm prickling on his close-shorn hair. John’s hands found her hips, fingers wrapping gently around the swell of them; a proper kiss, lips pressed to lips. Talia pulled away, just barely, breath hot. “That was nice,” she whispered hungrily. “It was,” John growled, pulling her to him, her small frame crushed against his, lips crashing into hers, needful and unrestrained. Talia knew this was the end; the last lines of resistance crumbled, the last stronghold taken. He would never be the Master Chief again, not to her. He was forever John now.

The floodgates opened, and in poured love.

[indigograceauthor]

A Flip of the Coin Master List

Unconditionally - Part 1 Full Work on ao3 Spotify Playlist

Summary: When Master Chief rescues Corporal Perez on Sanctuary, the event not only starts a chain reaction that unravels John-117's life, it brings him to a realization that the person he needed all along was the one he least expected. Pairing: John-117/Talia Perez Status: Complete

Chapter 1 : Sanctuary Part 1 - Shadow of a Soul

Chapter 2: Sanctuary Part 2 - I Fucking Hate You

Chapter 3: Sanctuary Part 3 - Love-Hate-Sex-Pain

Chapter 4: Sword Part 1 - I Don't Belong

Chapter 5: Sword Part 2 - Running Blind

Chapter 6: Visegrad - Make Me Believe

Chapter 7: Reach - Eye of the Storm

Chapter 8: Aleria Part 1 - Hollow

Chapter 9: Aleria Part 2 - Serenity

Chapter 10: Onyx - Truth

Chapter 11: Thermopylae Part 1 - Surrender

Chapter 12: Thermopylae Part 2 - Under Your Scars

Chapter 13: Halo Part 1 - Legends Rise

Chapter 14: Halo Part 2 - Bulletproof

Chapter 15: Epilogue - Oracle

Possibilities - Part 2 NOW POSTED !!

[heycarrots]

Black Sails Nation! Rise! It’s time for some Cinnamon!

Reading Between the Lines Podcast is BACK with more SilverFlint!

This month, I chat with Polish author, @tiofrean about her beautiful story, the Queen Mother of all hurt/comfort fics, Cinnamon. We get back into the SilverFlint lane and finally earn our E rating! I told you all it was coming! You do NOT want to miss this episode! There’s no pumpkin, but there is definitely some spice to raise your t’gallants!

This episode was months in the making. We recorded our interview at the beginning of July and Tora has been fully hands on in the planning process for this episode, including creating her own ABSOLUTELY STUNNING cover art! I mean . . . LOOK AT THEM!!! The curls! The freckles! JOHN’S TINY EARS!!!

Listen, I’m unhinged about this episode. I’m so proud of it and I think you’re REALLY going to love it!

Here are the links!

[lurkerdelima]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver Characters: Captain Flint | James McGraw, John Silver (Treasure Island) Additional Tags: Angst, Insomnia, Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, Oral Sex, Sad and Sweet, POV Alternating Summary:

and the job gets done but you worry some, i know but who wants to live forever, babe?

[a stolen moment of tenderness from late S3 or maybe early S4, where Flint sleeps and Silver doesn’t]

[burningvelvet]

my first black sails fic, which i published 2 or 3 days ago, just hit 100 hits! i've been uploading chapters daily and i just now uploaded a new one - check it out :)

[jaynovz]

Silverflint “In Peril” Fic Rec List

Hi guys! I got an anon a few weeks ago requesting Silverflint recs with the prompt: “one of them being in danger/peril/kidnapped (or anything akin to that) and the other going just above and beyond to save him. something with the vibe, if you hurt him i'll kill you.” 

There were hmmm not as many as I thought with the EXACT getting rescued parameter but I compiled some similar ones as well. Enjoy.

--

Affinity by Magnetism_bind

Summary: Silver spends his time while captured by Hands thinking of Flint and ignoring his feelings for the man.

It's a little harder to do so after Flint rescues him.

Notes: Oneshot, 4.6k, definitely the best and most faithful example of the prompt as submitted. Silver is held hostage and brutalized by Israel Hands and Flint rescues him.

Another Way by x_etoile_x

Summary: Silver doesn’t get the chance to turn back and attack the Spanish soldiers when he and Flint are captured on the warship, so he needs to come up with a different plan. Things get out of control. A retelling of their time on the warship at the beginning of S2, in the aftermath of this.

Notes: Long fic, 29k. Fantastic story on many levels. For the list, first chapter has a direct fulfillment of the prompt--Flint is in danger, Silver goes above and beyond to save him.

Fifteen Men in September by ballantine

Summary: Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

A Black Sails origin story for the song.

Notes: Long fic, 34k, just a fantastic read. There is a pivotal scene where Silver kills a man on Flint’s behalf and then further scenes of both of them in peril, Silver gravely ill. Very much the “going above and beyond” and “if you him I’ll kill you” vibe.

we were never meant to survive (but what if we did) by explosiontimothy, inwardphae

Summary: Since you still haven’t told me your name, I shall call you Jonah. You are so obsessed with sea and water that you’d make a home out of the belly of a whale if only it meant not to touch foot on solid land ever again. What if you get stuck there? I’d be forced to make my way to you and drag you out, cut the whale’s skin with my knife like a shark with its teeth and carve my shape out of it. And yours. There are two fighters, on opposite sides of the time war. They have never met but they know each other's names. But names are powerful, untamed things when they are spoken out loud. So they don’t call each other by their names, ever. Until, one day, they do. The Silverflint Time-Travel AU no one asked for, but you're all getting anyway.

Notes: Long fic, 46k, big concept sweeping crossover with the book This is How You Lose the Time War. Without spoiling, this story very much embodies “going above and beyond to save him.” Top tier.

darkness in his fingertips, eyes just the same by Jaynovz

Summary: A desperate fear is welling up in Silver. Flint, injured? How grievous a wound must it be to keep Flint from a battle? To prevent him from heading up the rescue party? Flint, who Silver had seen take a warship with a shot shoulder, Flint, who shrugged off injuries from raids with an annoyed grimace as if they were minor inconveniences. Silver’s heartbeat is too fast and too slow at the same time, ice creeps around him from all sides at the stark reminder that Flint is mortal. The man who would sneer at God, who would sail straight into a tempest, who seemed to control reality with his demons… Silver has seen Captain Flint bleed, yes, but it’s never mattered like this, never truly hampered him.

And on the heels of this fear is something far less enfeebling, something Silver embraces: a dark vortex of rage.

Notes: Oneshot, 4.3k. A reaction to in peril. An alt canon take of early s4 where Billy injures Flint at the Underhill Plantation. After Silver returns, he murders Billy for the insult. “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you” exactly.

frail and fragile bars by Ajaxthegreat

Summary: “I think you fuck,” Silver says. By which he means, with great intent: I think you are human. I know you are human. I see you.

Notes: Long fic, 21k. A very excellent story overall, and for this list specifically, it features Flint taking a sword to protect Silver in battle and Silver murdering the man responsible.

how we could be brought here by love by mapped

Summary: A 4x03 AU where Flint receives a minor injury in the battle of Nassau Town and Silver is very shaken by it.

Notes: Oneshot, 3.7k. Not a rescue so much as Silver’s intense reaction to Flint being hurt. I think it fits the vibe.

in over our heads by Jaynovz

Summary: Set at the end of 2.1.

The remaining Walrus crew want Silver flogged.

The experience creates some altogether unexpected outcomes.

Notes: Mid-size fic, 13k. Silver is flogged, Flint is very affected by that, takes care of him after, and they both learn a lot about each other ahem. “If you hurt him I’ll kill you” vibes definitely feature.

please do not let me go by natlet

Summary: Vulnerability, it turns out, is a blade that cuts both ways.

Notes: Series, 5 stories, 39k words total. An overall excellent series of Silverflint fics, however the one I’m thinking of for this list is the fourth, all pale and panting, where Flint is gravely ill and Silver goes above and beyond to take care of him. 

--

As always, let me know if you have a suggestion for an inclusion and I’ll give it a look. Thanks.

[helix-enterprises117]

Anybody got any requests/story ideas? I'd like to hear from you guys.

@authortobenamedlater, @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @mrtobenamedlater, @biomecharnotaurus, @killer-orca-cosplay.

[major-mads]

Chapter 13: At Last

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: GUYS! Sorry for the SUPER long delay! I went out of the country for a while and had some other things come up, but here we are...the long-awaited chapter!! enjoy!

For some reason, tumblr won't let me tag more than 5 people, so I'll tag people in the comments instead!

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 9.4k

Wednesday, October 27, 1943: Stalag Luft III: Sagan, Germany: 1000 HRS

The dull scrapes of pencils, the ticking of the clock, and the sniffles of Jimmy Lambert in the far corner of the room were the only things keeping Ruth Morgan sane. She sat at her desk fidgeting with her ink pen as she stared down at the paper before her. Her eyes drifted over the page numerous times, but her mind was in no state to absorb information, even information as mundane as an analysis of characters in Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

5 Days Earlier

“We thought you were dead,” Murphy muttered from where he sat at the center table in the girls’ room. “They, uh, they said there were no chutes, ma’am.”

Frank’s brows furrowed slightly, his fingers brushing over his mustache. “No chutes? Someone saw us go down?” 

“Apparently. No one would tell us anything,” Crank added matter-of-factly, but his voice softened as he continued.” Especially not Buck or Bucky. We had to find out what happened through the grapevine.”

With Hope asleep on her bunk, the room’s eyes shifted to Ruth at the mention of the majors. She sat silently at the table, her eyes glistening in the room’s low light as she stared at the roughened wood before her. If everyone thought they were dead, she could only imagine how John must have reacted. How would she have reacted?

“John,” she shakily breathed, raising her teary gaze to the men. “How-How is he? ”

As soon as the words left her lips, Glenn shifted awkwardly in his seat and glanced at Crank and Murph, who acted much the same. Ruth’s brow creased in concern, her eyes searching their faces for answers when Frank draped his arm over the back of her chair. After a few moments, Glen sighed.

“He took it hard, ma’am. Both him, Buck, and Sparky. Bucky, he, uh…” Glen’s eyes flicked to his friend’s desperately for help, and Murph straightened in his chair, coming to the co-pilot's aid.

“Harding made him take a pass to London, but Buck went down over Bremen the day he got there, so he came back early to lead the next mission.”

“Münster was a frickin’ turkey shoot,” Crank grumbled. ”The Zig went down before us…We saw what? 9 chutes?”

Ruth’s breath hitched, and she clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her fingers digging into her palms. “Nine chutes,” she repeated softly, her voice trembling. “But Johnny? Have y’all seen him since?”

The room fell silent, the weight of Ruth’s question hanging heavily in the air. The men exchanged uneasy glances, the shadows in their eyes deepening.

Cruikshank cleared his throat, his voice low. “No. We haven’t seen him. None of us have.”

Ruth’s heart sank and a wave of fear crashed over her. Her vision blurred with unshed tears as she tried to process the news. “So, you don’t know if he’s...”

“It’s Bucky,” Crank nodded. “He’ll make it.”

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying. John was either evading, captured, or dead in a German field somewhere. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, not after everything they’d been through. Not after she’d told herself he was safe back at Thorpe Abbotts, convinced herself that he’d be waiting for her.

“Lieutenant Morgan?” A voice called out, but it barely registered in her mind.

“Lieutenant?” the voice repeated, more insistent this time.

Ruth continued to stare blankly at the paper, her mind caught in the memory, but when a shadow fell across her desk, she finally blinked. Her gaze slowly lifted to see one of her students standing there with concern etching his face. “Ruth, are you alright?” he asked softly.

“Oh,” she murmured, shaking her head slightly to clear the memory. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. Need some help?”

George, a 20 year old, baby-faced lieutenant with sandy hair and a kind expression, looked at her with a mixture of worry and sympathy. “You seem a bit…distant,” he said carefully. “Are you alright? Did something happen? Did the goons-”

Ruth forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and interrupted his endearing rambling.  “I’m fine, George. Just got a lot on my mind. Thanks for asking.”

He nodded, although not entirely convinced. “This class…it helps all of us so much. So if there’s anything we can do to help, please let us know.”

“I appreciate that, really. How’s your work going?”

George glanced back at the table where his papers were spread out. “It’s going well. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Her heart warmed at his concern. These young men relied on her, and she couldn’t let them down. “Thank you, George. I’ll be alright. If you need any help with your work, let me know.”

He gave her a small smile and returned to his table, leaving Ruth to gather her scattered thoughts. She took a deep breath and refocused on the task at hand, pushing her worries about John to the back of her mind for the moment. She had to stay strong. For herself, for her friends, and for the young men in her classes that clung to their lessons for a sense of normalcy.

1600 HRS: 4 PM

Ruth sat at room four’s table, attempting to organize her lesson plans, the soft scratch of a pencil the only sound in the room. No one had seen Hope since she left toward the infirmary following the 6am roll call, but it was almost time for her to come back. Murphy and Charlie Cruikshank lay in their beds staring up at the wooden slats above their heads. Glenn was off with Frank Martin checking out the garden and harvesting the last of the vegetables before winter came. The chill in the morning and evening air were sure signs it was coming, and fast.

“How was class today?” Murphy asked, sending her a half-smile from his bunk. Since their arrival, the three newcomers kept a close eye on the women.

“It was okay,” she groaned, placing a paper in her ‘graded’ stack. “I’ve got a lot of papers to grade.”

A few moments later, the echo of the siren at the entrance gate cut through the silence of the room. The men sprang to their feet and ran out the door, but Ruth remained in her seat, shaking her head with a grin.

“Ruth, you comin’?” Murphy asked, poking his head around the doorframe.

She shook her head, glancing up from her work. “No, but y’all go ahead. I’ll be fine in here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Ruth insisted, “Go on!”

With a final nod, Frank followed Crank out of the block, their boots echoing down the hallway. The room fell silent again, and Ruth took a deep breath. She picked up Macbeth, hoping to distract herself from the gnawing anxiety that settled in her chest. The words on the page blurred together as her mind wandered back to John. Between Hope pulling away and his unknown fate on top of the uncertainty of captivity, it was all she could do to keep functioning. 

The silence of the room was comforting yet heavy as the minutes ticked by, her mind drifting to the events of the past month. With a sigh, she closed her book and began to tidy up the room. Humming softly to herself, cleared and wiped down the table. With mud, dirt and everything else caked onto the surface, getting it off was a chore. 

Knock. Knock.

“Come on in.” She called, her back to the door that slowly creaked open. “Anyone interesting come in today?”

No response. The silence felt odd. 

Sighing, Ruth turned toward the entrance. “If y’all don’t start cleaning up, too-”

When Ruth’s gaze landed on the figure in the doorway, she didn’t feel her grip on the rag loosening, didn’t hear it hit the ground. All she could focus on was the man standing before her. He was battered and bruised, his uniform torn and dirty, but his eyes…his glossy blues were the same that filled her dreams, her cherished memories.

“John,” she whimpered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper as tears welled in her eyes.

He slowly took a step into the room. “Hey, Ruthie.”

They simply stood there for a moment, locked in each other’s gaze. But then, a wide smile grew on his face and he crossed the room, throwing his arms around her small figure. Beneath his hold, John felt the sharpness of her features, the way she seemed impossibly smaller…but his mind quickly pushed away the thought because this was the moment he’d dreamed of. 

Ruth instantly returned the embrace with a choked sob, holding him as tightly as she could while John buried his face in her neck. His arms were warm and sturdy, familiar in a way that made her feel whole again.

Pulling back, he tearily grinned at her and gently cupped her face, resting his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he whispered quickly. “I should’ve told you, but I just-”

“Thank God. I love you, too,” Ruth interrupted with her own teary laugh. “I love you, John Egan.”

“I thought you were gone.”

She sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. “I know, I know. But I’m right here. I’m right here.”

Unable to hold off any longer, John kissed her gently, cradling her jaw as he connected their lips. The world melted away and they got lost in each other’s presence for a few moments until Ruth pulled away, her eyes taking in the damage done to his face. It was a mess of cuts and bruises, his right eye swollen and bloodshot. As a nurse, she was used to seeing people in pain, but seeing John in such a state caused that barrier to crumble.

“Oh honey,” she said softly as her thumb brushed lightly over a bruise on his cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He nodded and allowed her to lead him over to the table where he perched atop it. As he sat down, Ruth hurriedly grabbed their first aid kit from under Hope’s bunk before returning to his side. He seemed to notice her sling for the first time and concern flashed across his face.

“Your arm, doll.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she dismissed him, unwrapping some gauze and dabbing it with alcohol. “This happened when I, uh, bailed. Broke it when I went through some trees on the way down.”

John’s saw clenched as the next question filtered through his mind before leaving his lips. His voice was quiet with a barely contained rage at the thought of her suffering at the hands of their captors. “The Krauts. They haven’t...They haven’t touched you, have they?”

“No. Thank God.”

He visibly deflated. “Good.”

Silence again filled the room as she worked carefully to clean the cuts marring his face. When she inspected his it further, she noted the swelling and his bloodshot right eye. “Johnny, this is bad,” she whispered, her fingers trembling as she brushed over the injury. “Can you see okay? Any double vision?”

“Sometimes, but I’m fine, doll. Really. Strong as an ox.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Ruth, I’m alright…”

“Take off your shirt, John,” she demanded quietly.

Ruth expected a half-baked joke to fall from his lips, but when it didn’t, her heart sank. He sighed, gritting his teeth as he attempted to take off his jacket. Even the smallest movement felt like murder, and all he wanted to do was lie down, but she was there. Their reunion had pushed down the pain but it came rushing back in that moment.

“Here. Let me help.”

She carefully helped him remove his A2 jacket and unzip his flight suit down to his waist, revealing a dirty, once-white tank top underneath. As she slowly lifted the tank top, John’s jaw clenched and a few pained grunts escaped his lips when he raised his arms. The sight that greeted her was worse than she had feared. His torso was a canvas of bruises, the worst of which spread diagonally across his back. The center was an angry mix of red and purple, while the edges were turning a sickly brownish green.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, her voice cracking as she stared at the damage. Ruth’s eyes filled with tears and she raised a hand to cover her mouth. John set his jaw and stared at the floor silently, unable to meet her gaze. Her hands hesitantly touched the largest bruise across his back with feather-light pressure. 

“What happened?” she asked shakily as a tear streaked down her cheek.

Should he tell her? Subject her to the horrors he’d experienced in the month they’d been apart? He’d want to know. He wanted to know what happened to her, but the thought of watching his sweet, gentle, and caring Ruth crumble as he explained that night’s events and the days that followed was enough of a deterrent.

“I think it was a club,” he replied before glancing up at her with a exhausted smirk. It didn’t quite reach his eyes but he gave it anyways. “Chump had a terrible swing, though. Could’ve batted cleanup for the Braves with the season they're having.”

Deflection. His favorite game, favorite defense. Strong John Egan, the 418th’s CO, Major in the Army Air Force, didn’t want to think about the most helpless moment in his life. Didn’t want to think about how terrified he’d been. Bucky thought he was going to die as he sputtered for air on the ground that night, warm blood running down his face. Through the ringing in his ears and the pain in his head, he heard gunshot after gunshot echo off the brick buildings. Each sent a comrade to their grave, and he knew the next was for him…

“Hey. Please don’t do that,” said Ruth quietly.

“Do what?”

“You know what.”

With a sigh, he turned his gaze back to the dusty paneled floor.  “Me and a group of guys from the 381st were taken through a town, and the people…they just went crazy. I got knocked in the head a few times.”

Ruth swallowed thickly and took his face gently in her hands, tilting it up from the floor to meet her gaze. “What else?”

“Doll,” he sighed, his voice rising slightly as he reached out and gently grasped her waist, pulling her to stand between his legs. “I don’t think you should-”

“I want to know.”

“Well, I’d rather talk about you.”

Ruth blinked, momentarily taken back. “Me?” she repeated, her voice incredulous. “Johnny, look at you. You’re the one who’s hurt.”

“I know, but right now I just want to forget about it,” John said with the purse of his lips. “Tell me what happened…how you’ve been holding up.

Her eyes searched his face for any sign of his usual bravado, but she saw none and relented, taking a deep breath as she tried to shift her focus to herself. 

“We went through a flak field and fighters…they came out of nowhere. Killed our copilot,” she admitted quietly, still slotted between his legs. Ruth reached up, her fingers gently running through his dark curls, soothing his worried mind with each stroke. “Bailing was terrifying, and then we were captured and separated…it’s been a nightmare.” she sniffled quietly. “Definitely not what I expected when I joined up. But you’re here, now, and that makes things much better. Not that I want you to be here, but-”

John cut off her stressed ramble with a kiss. It was filled with more urgency as if to assure himself that she was really there, not just a figment of his imagination, not just a dream. She pulled back gently and placed a hand on his chest, a smooth metal chain beneath her touch.

Her cross. 

“You kept it?”

“It was all I had left of you. I never took it off.”

Tears once again burned in her eyes but she quickly blinked them away. “Enough about me. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” she said softly. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

He nodded reluctantly and Ruth went back to carefully tending to his face. As she worked, she continued talking in a feeble attempt to distract him from the pain. “Frank’s been looking out for us the whole time, and since your guys got here last week, they’ve done the same.”

John flinched as she cleaned a deep gash on his temple. “Good,” he managed through gritted teeth. “They’re. How’s Hope? I know Buck’s in another compound.”

“She’s not good. Hasn’t been sleeping because of nightmares, so Frank and I have tried to stay up with her… but she just shuts us out. We don’t know what to do.”

Johnny frowned, concern deepening the lines on his bruised face. “Hope’s tough but it sounds like you’ve both been through hell. It just looks like it’s taking her more time, doll.”

“I know, but it’s so hard to see her like this. She won’t talk to me, John. She won’t open up. I-I don’t know how to help her,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she carefully dabbed a cut on his eyebrow.

He reached up and gently cupped her cheek. “Hey, listen to me,” he said softly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that escaped down her cheek. “You’re doing everything you can. Some people just need to deal with things their own way, in their own time.”

“But what if she never does?” Ruth whispered, her voice breaking. “What if I can’t help her?”

The major’s heart ached at the pain in her big blue eyes, and he pulled her closer, gently wrapping his arms around her waist. “She’ll come around. I know it.”

Just then, a series of rapid knocks on the door interrupted them, followed by the sound of familiar voices. “Ruth, Bucky, you two decent in there?”

She quickly wiped away her tears. John looked up, wincing slightly as he tried to sit up straight. “Come on in, you dodos,” he called out.

The door swung open, and Murph, Crank, and Glenn hurried into the room. Their eyes widened when they took in the sight of John’s bruised body.

“Shit,” Crank muttered. “Bucky, what did they do to you?”

Murphy’s face twisted in concern. “You look like you went ten rounds with a freight train and lost,” he said with the shake of his head. “You alright?”

John gave them a weak grin. “Just fine, boys. You should see the other guy.”

“If you say so, sir,” Graham grimaced.

Ruth helped John back into his shirt and into a seat, and the men sat around the table, asking John about the Münster mission, what happened to his plane, and if he knew about any of the other guys from his crew. While they spoke, her mind wandered to Frank and Hope. It was almost 5:30, almost time for supper…if you could call half a potato and a tiny sausage-looking meat stick supper.

Noticing her far-off stare, John placed a gentle hand on her thigh beneath the table and remained in the conversation, his touch offering little comfort against her worry. It wasn’t until the door creaked open a few minutes later that she could finally breathe. Frank and Hope appeared in the doorway, freezing as their eyes fell upon the group. The group’s hushed voices ceased and a few chairs scraped back as they turned to see who had entered. She felt John move beside her, turning to face the pair. 

“Hope! Frank! You’re back. Ruth’s been telling me all about you both since the crash.” John cracked a wide smile and Ruth noticed the way his eyes softened as they fell on Hope. 

 Frank stood behind Hope in the doorway, his eyes widening when his gaze fell on Bucky. He stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “It’s good to see you, Major, sorry it’s not under better circumstances.” 

John shrugged, his arm coming back around to rest on Ruth’s shoulders, “We’re at war Captain, worse things could have happened. To think that of all the camps I could have gone to I ended up back with my girl. It could have been worse, I could have been stuck in a different compound like Buck and…” 

The room fell silent and all eyes fell to Hope. Ruth held in the small gasp that threatened to fall from her lips. She saw Hope’s eyes trail to the floor, her brown eyes fighting against her emotions. 

“Ahh, Hope, I didn’t mean…” John began, his face etched with concern as he realized the weight of his words. 

“It’s fine, John. Really, it’s good to have you back. It’s nice to see Ruth so happy again.” 

Hope sent her friend a sincere smile and the blonde returned it, her shoulders relaxing a little. Ruth wasn’t convinced that was the truth, but to know Hope wasn’t about to run out on her again brought her a small amount of comfort. Everyone walked on eggshells around Hope. It was like she was an unexploded bomb that needed to be handled with such delicacy in fear of her going off at any moment. 

Hope sat herself down on her bunk, her dark eyes trailing over the group. Frank joined in the conversation and Ruth took that as her moment to slip out of John’s grasp and make her way over to her friend. 

Hope didn’t notice Ruth approaching her until the bed dipped beside her. 

“How are you doing?” Ruth asked, slipping her hand into Hope’s and squeezing it gently. “You’ve been really quiet since Gale arrived.” 

Ruth wanted to approach the subject but also didn’t want to drive her friend away further. She knew she’d have to be careful with her probing questions…one false move and Hope could close in on herself again. 

“I’m fine, Rue, really. Work’s just been busy and I’ve not been sleeping well, but I promise I’m fine,” she forced a smile that stretched across her pale cheeks. Ruth could see the dark, purple skin beneath her friends eyes and the way her skin pulled tightly across her cheekbones. She had always considered her friend to be beautiful, so striking with her dark hair and red lipstick, but now she look like a ghost of her former self. 

Ruth wasn’t convinced. Her once bright eyes looked tiredly at Hope, breaking her heart even more. 

What had become of them?

2200 HRS: 10 PM

The afternoon passed with introductions to fellow prisoners and supper, along with John’s first evening roll call. By lights out, the major was half-asleep in his chair around the table, pure exhaustion wafting off him after the journey he had from Dulag Luft. Everyone else was lying quietly in their bunks, leaving John, Ruth, and Crank alone at the table. She watched with a softened gaze as Bucky’s eyes drooped again and again. It was adorable, the way he continued to fight it, but Ruth knew he was beyond tired. She shared a glance with Crank across the table before returning her eyes to John’s half-lidded ones. 

“Come on,” Ruth patted his shoulder gently, his eyes opening wider. “Let’s get you into bed.”

John blinked a few times, trying to gather his thoughts. “Yeah, okay,” he murmured, pushing himself up from the table with a barely concealed wince. 

That afternoon, they decided he would get the bunk above Ruth’s. If their roommates were being honest, they guessed one of the beds would be empty more often than not. It wasn’t an easy task getting all six-foot-something of John up onto the second-row bunk, but he gritted his teeth and swallowed the pain as he climbed into the bed.

Charlie stood to help, but Johnny waved him off. “I’m good,” he insisted, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

“Sure you don’t,” Crank replied with a knowing eye-roll but stayed close just in case.

John gritted his teeth and tried to climb onto the second-row bunk on his own. He managed to get one leg up before a sharp pain shot through his side, making him grunt and pause.

“Let us help,” Ruth whispered.

He nodded reluctantly, the fight leaving him as he sighed. “Alright, alright. Just this once.”

Crank and Ruth each took an arm, Charlie doing more than the blonde, and they carefully helped him up onto the bunk. Only a small wince left his lips despite the ever-present ache throughout his whole body. Once he settled on the narrow mattress, he took a long breath.

“See? Easy,” he joked weakly, slightly out of breath from the movement.

Charlie clapped him gently on the shoulder before heading to his own bunk. “Sure, Bucky.”

Standing beside his bunk, Ruth’s face was slightly taller than eye level. She looked down at him with worry swirling in her mind. The cuts, the bruising, his eye, the avoidance…it all worried her. She wanted to know what happened. Needed to know. How could she be there for him if she didn’t know what he went through?

“You alright?” he asked sleepily, his face only visible from the moonlight streaming through the room’s small window. “What’s going through that head of yours?”

Ruth sighed and raised her hand to play with the messy curls hanging over his forehead. “I missed you. So much. Being here…it gives you a lot of time to think. Makes you realize what’s important. Who’s important. A part of me thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well, I’m here now, and I promise I’m not gonna leave you again, alright? I meant what I said earlier, doll. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied softly, kissing his cheek. “Get some rest, okay? You need it.”

Groaning, john tiredly raised his eyebrows. “Come on. That’s all I get?” 

“So needy,” Ruth smirked with the roll of her eyes before kissing him properly. “Now really go to sleep, hotshot.”

A pleased smile curved John’s lips as his eyes slipped closed. “Night, Ruthie.

She gave him one last tender look before stepping back and moving to her own bunk below his. For the first night in a month, the overwhelming sense of doom, of panic, seemed to lessen, and she drifted off to sleep easily. Bucky, however, was subjected to the same nightmare that visited him nightly. 

Smoke and flames burned his eyes as he frantically looked around him. The twisted metal of the Angel lay scattered around the field, its normal green paint charred in the blaze. John stumbled over the debris, his heart pounding as he searched for any sign of life. The plane was nearly unrecognizable, the once proud C-47 reduced to a smoldering heap of metal and fire. John’s eyes darted frantically across the field, the smoke filling his lungs. He coughed violently and his hands trembled as he clawed his way through the debris. Then, in the fire’s dim light, he saw her…but the vibrance of her eyes was gone as she blankly stared up at the sky.

“No, no, no,” he gasped, his heart skipping as he rushed to her side, but his hands passed through her as if she was a ghost. 

John jolted awake with a gasp, and his heart pounded in his chest. His heaving chest was drenched with sweat as he tried to get his bearings. For a moment, he was disoriented, and the line between dream and reality blurred. But as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he remembered where he was. The stalag. Ruth was alive. He’d seen her, held her. But the lingering fear from the nightmare gnawed at him.

Ignoring the pain that shot through his body with every movement, Johnny carefully climbed down from his bunk and lowered himself slowly to the floor, wincing as his bruised ribs protested. 

He felt uneasy. An unnerving feeling spread through him as he turned and met a dark pair of eyes watching him from the window. His breath caught in his throat as his heart continued to pound. Hope watched him sympathetically. Her own eyes were rimmed red and her small frame looked childlike in her oversized coveralls bunched up against the window. The pair exchanged no words as John shuffled closer to Ruth’s cot. Leaning against the post of Ruth’s bunk, he fixed his eyes on her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. He reached out hesitantly and lightly brushed a strand of hair from her face. Bucky had watched her for what felt like hours when she finally stirred. 

Ruth’s eyelids fluttered open as if finally sensing his presence, and she blinked sleepily, her eyes focusing on the figure sitting beside her bed. 

“Johnny?” she whispered, her voice heavy with sleep. “Why are you on the floor?”

He pursed his lips. “No reason. It reminded me of my lovely cell back at Dulag Luft.”

A small sigh left Ruth’s lips as she watched him in the dim light. Through the bruises and the bravado, she saw a wounded man…one wounded physically, emotionally, and mentally.

“John.”

The silence that followed was filled with Murph’s quiet snores.

“I, uh, just wanted to check on you,” the major murmured after a moment, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap, his eyes stuck on them. “To make sure you’re okay…That this isn’t some messed-up dream.”

It was then that Ruth remembered what the others said…He took it hard. But what all did that entail? Did he go out and drink himself away every night or did he pick up his old habits with women? She didn’t know, but what she did know was that he was there, they were finally together.

“Hey,” she whispered, sitting up and reaching out to him. She gently ran her hand through his greasy curls. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

John’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for a moment, she saw raw vulnerability in them, but the strong facade quickly returned. He thought back to the long nights in the Officer’s Club, sitting around the bar with a drink in his hand, just trying to drown out the memories that followed him everywhere. John couldn’t go to Dickleburgh, couldn’t bear Tommy asking about Ruth, asking when he’d see her again. The first and only time it happened, Buck and Kidd looked at him warily, unsure whether he’d crumble or explode as Tommy stared up at him with his signature toothy grin. John simply took a big gulp of his pint and clenched his jaw, telling Tommy she’d be gone for a while. He didn’t remember much after that moment, but he remembered waking up the next morning with one of the worst hangovers of his life. He awoke knowing he couldn’t face Tommy or the memories that mercilessly replayed in his mind. 

He nodded and softly took her hand, running his thumb over the top of it as he spoke. “Yeah. I know. It’s just…They told us the Angel went down. Said there were no survivors. We - uh - spent the past month thinking both you and Hope were dead. I-” 

Bucky trailed off and looked away from Ruth, his gaze focusing on the dusty floor beside him. He couldn’t stop the burn in his eyes at the thought of the past month. He was no stranger to pain, to loss. Losing his father was heartbreaking, as was losing man after man as the war went on. But Ruth? Losing Ruth was the worst pain he’d ever felt. And to think, Haussmann was the reason he knew she was alive after all that time.  

“Johnny, look at me,” Ruth murmured as she softly turned his face toward her. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. I wish more than anything I could’ve made it back to you.”

He blinked away the tears glistening in his eyes and took a deep breath with a nod. “Me, too, doll. Me, too.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, both soaking in the loving gaze of the other. Ruth noted the flecks of grey in his blue eyes. The grey reminded her of the clouds that almost always hung in the sky around The Grove and Thorpe Abbotts. A dog’s bark in the distance broke their trance, and Ruth lightly tugged on his hand.

“Come here.”

He hesitated but then slowly climbed onto the bunk, wincing quietly as he did so. Ruth made space for him, which wasn’t much, but they managed to fit. He lay on his back and she nestled herself on top of him, her body conforming to the limited space they had.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly, her eyes searching his face for any signs of discomfort.

John nodded, his mind finally able to rest with her in his arms. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, Ruthie, you’re not hurting me. I promise.”

She carefully laid her head on his chest, her ear over his heart. The steady rhythm was comforting, a reminder that he was alive and here with her. That she was alive. Tears welled up in her eyes again as she clung to him.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, sitting up on his chest and peering down at him. “I was worried sick about you. I couldn’t focus in class…”

“Class?”

Ruth’s lips formed a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I-uh,” she sniffled quietly, “teach English to some of the other kriegies.”

With a huff of air and a shake of his head, he relaxed against the straw pillow, staring at the wooden slats above him as a faint smile grew on his face. Since his capture, John had thought about how much his life was changing. The freedom he cherished would be gone, and no one knew how long he’d be stuck in the camp under German rule. But then there was Ruth, already stepping up and helping out where she could, not wallowing in self-pity like he had already begun to. 

“What?” she asked, sitting back up on his chest.

“Just you. You’re just amazing. Even here.”

Ruth blushed and her eyes dropped to his chest as she absent-mindedly traced patterns on his shirt. “It helps me feel like I’m doing something, you know? Like I’m not just sitting around, waiting for the war to end. It gives me purpose.”

“At least you’re able to do what you love. Those kids back home were lucky to have ya, and now these guys are, too.”

“It’s not the same, but it helps. And they seem to appreciate it,” she said, looking up at him. 

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “I bet they do. Doesn’t hurt that you’re gorgeous, either. You never stop amazing me, doll.”

She shook her head, smiling. “I don’t know about that. It gets my mind off of everything, though…Got my mind off you.”

He stared at her for a moment, really looking at the woman before him. She’d been through hell and was more worried about him than herself…him, who up two weeks prior had been sleeping in a warm bed in England while she was being forced across Germany. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Johnny murmured, tightening his hold on Ruth as his arms wrapped protectively around her. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

His question brought back a memory, and Ruth found herself being transported back to Thorpe Abbotts, to the night of Dye’s party when he’d asked the same thing. Everything was so different then. In that small hall bathroom in the Officer’s Club, John had also asked her to come to London with him. 

Oh, the things that would never be…or at least wouldn’t happen in the foreseeable future.

Her hand found its way to his cheek as she spoke. “You didn’t have to do anything, remember? I love you. Don’t let anything tell you different.” 

A few seconds passed before John sighed and looked up at the bunk above him. “You know, when I thought you were gone, I-I didn’t handle it too well. I drank…A lot. Went to London on my own, hoping to get some closure, but it…it didn’t help.”

Ruth just watched him, trying to keep her own emotions in check. To her dismay, almost everything she’d guessed had been true. The strong man she knew was reduced to someone who needed alcohol to get through the day, to go to sleep at night. He went on to tell her about London, the mission, and his interrogation, but he kept the most brutal parts to himself. She was already worried and didn’t need anything else to stress over. 

“But I do owe that Nazi chump one thing. He let me know you were alive, even if he didn’t realize it.”

“What?” she asked with furrowed brows. “How?”

“I didn’t tell him anything. But as I was leaving, he said something I wrote in my last letter to you. Told me the ‘Yankees always end on top…’ probably to try and rile me up, I guess. I knew that meant you went through there if he knew that.” 

Chuckling, Ruth shook her head. “Wow. Who’d’ve thought?”

“Speaking of the Yankees,” John began with a twinkle in his eye. “They won the World Series.”

She playfully groaned and turned away from him with a poorly hidden smirk. “I did not miss hearing crap from you about the Yankees, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, come on, doll. You know you missed it,” he teased as he turned onto his side and pulled her against him wincing slightly as pain shot through his ribs. “Don’t even deny it.”

A loud giggle involuntarily escaped her lips when he wrapped his arms around her again. The sound lifted a weight off of Johnny’s shoulder’s. It was a sound he’d heard night after night, memory after memory, and hearing it after believing he never would again eased his mind in a way he couldn’t describe. Ruth could’ve sworn she heard Frank gag from a nearby bunk, but he made no other complaints. 

They stayed like that for a while, both caught up in their thoughts. Ruth thanked God for keeping John safe, for sparing him and bringing him back to her, even if he was bloody and bruised and they were both prisoners of war. Bucky burrowed his face in her neck and breathed her scent, felt the warmth of her skin, the way she fit perfectly in his arms. She was alive. They were together. And in that moment, he promised to do whatever it took to keep her safe. 

“I love you,” he whispered after kissing her neck gently. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying that.”

“And I’ll never get tired of hearing it. Goodnight, hotshot. I love you.”

With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her presence wash over him. “Goodnight, slugger.”

This time, sleep welcomed the major quickly, and for the first time in over a month, it was peaceful.

Two Days Later: October 29th: 0530 HRS: 5:30 AM

Bang. Bang.

“Aufstehen! Get up!”

The clacking of boots furthered down the hall as the occupants of room 4 slowly awoke. Ruth sat up with a yawn, running a tired hand down her face as John gingerly hopped from the bunk above her and kissed her cheek.

“Mornin, doll.”

“Morning,” she groaned, sliding on her boots and getting bundled up for the morning appell. Ruth layered her sweaters and flight jacket then wrapped her scarf around her neck. She glanced over at Hope on the bunk beside her and noticed the way her friend pulled her own scarf tightly around her neck. Taking a closer look, Ruth also noticed the redness around Hope’s eyes. Everyone knew Hope was struggling, and each time she shut down any conversations about it, Ruth became increasingly worried. In the almost month they’d been at the camp, Hope went from a little closed off to completely isolated…or maybe she just wanted to be away from Ruth? The blonde didn’t know, but she did know that it hurt her heart to see her best friend in such a state. 

Everyone quickly got ready and filed out the door for the morning roll call. It was almost always the same every morning and afternoon. The goons went down the line checking everyone was accounted for until they were satisfied. On special occasions when they felt extra cruel, the kreigies were forced to stand in their lines for hours. Luckily, that had only happened once since the girls arrived. As the chilly air turned colder with the passing days, Ruth wondered how long anyone would be able to stand exposed to the elements. It would snow soon, no doubt.

After roll call, everyone headed to the mess hall for breakfast. John threw his arm over Ruth’s shoulder, tucking her into his side. “I could eat a horse right now. I know you’re hungry, and you know I’m always hungry.”

He paused, waiting for her response, but Ruth didn’t hear a word he said. Her attention was too caught on Hope’s lonesome figure behind the group to notice he was speaking. Hope stood still, almost in a trance-like state as she stared at the mud in front of her. Bucky followed Ruth’s line of sight and sighed quietly, an understanding smile on his lips.

“Go on,” he said, squeezing her good shoulder gently.

Finally breaking from her stare, Ruth peered up at him, her brows drawn in concern. “I’ll just be a second.”

“You’re fine, doll.”

He nodded and kissed her temple. Everyone else seemed to notice the few stragglers and stood beside Bucky. Taking a deep breath, Ruth approached her friend, praying this would be the time she’d finally open up. But even as she stood three feet in front of her, Hope didn’t move. 

“Hope?” 

Hope’s tear-filled eyes snapped up to meet Ruth’s and quickly scanned the group beside John. A sudden redness crept up to her cheeks as Hope realized all the eyes that were on her. Frank appeared next to Ruth and reached out for Hope.

“You okay, Hope?” Frank asked, brushing his hand against hers. But before he could grasp it, she withdrew her hand and turned to avoid the other’s watchful eyes. Hurt flashed on his face for a moment until he reined in his expression, concern painting his face once again.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” she insisted. “I’m just tired. Lots of patients to see today, so I’ll head over to the infirmary.” She pushed past Ruth, moving through the group toward the infirmary. Ruth shared a helpless glance with Frank before following. 

“Hope! Hope, wait!” Ruth called after her, clutching onto her friend’s arm when she reached her. “Hey, you have to talk to me. Please don’t shut me out,” the blonde pleaded.

 “I’m not shutting you out, Rue. I’m busy, alright? I have things I need to do.”

Ruth’s grip remained firm on her forearm but Hope pushed her arm away. “Just go back to John, why don’t you? He’s waiting for you, so you should just go.”

Ruth felt a sharp pang in her chest at the words. The accusation, the resentment, it cut deep. After all they’d been through, this is how they were treating each other? She had been doing everything she could to be there for her friend, but it seemed like no matter what she did, it wasn’t enough. Ruth’s voice trembled as she responded, trying to keep the hurt from showing too much.

“Please, Hope. Please just talk to me.” Ruth bit her lip to stop it from wobbling as tears slowly filled her eyes.

All Hope did was step further away from the blonde. “I can’t talk to you about it. You won’t understand,” she replied plainly, pushing her dark hair away from her eyes. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks as she took a breath. “I should check on the men in the infirmary.”

Without another word, she continued down the muddy path to the infirmary block. Ruth’s watched her friend’s retreating figure until she disappeared from view. The ache in her chest was almost unbearable.

You wouldn’t understand.

What wouldn’t she understand? They’d been through the worst experience of their life together, ended up as prisoners of war together. What wouldn’t she understand? Ruth didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. She’d tried everything she knew to do.

John stepped beside her and placed a hand on her back. “I’m sorry if I’ve-”

“No, it’s not you,” Ruth interrupted, her voice breaking as she leaned into him. “You haven’t done anything. I-I just don’t know what to do. She refuses to talk to me. It’s like she’s shut me out completely.”

His hand moved to wrap around her waist, his warmth a small comfort in the cold. “Seems like you’ll have to wait for her to come to you, Ruthie.”

“I just wish there was something more I could do,” she nodded, resting her head on his shoulder.

The rest of the day passed the same as the past 35 they’d spent in the dreaded Stalag Luft III. That night, however, Hope never came back to their room. As the hours ticked by and Ruth, along with the other men, arrived from their jobs around the camp, everyone became increasingly worried. 

“Has anyone seen her?” Ruth asked frantically, running a hand quickly through her hair. “She’s usually back by now.”

Just as John opened his mouth to speak, the door opened and in walked Frank, soaked to the bone with a barely concealed frown. Glancing out the window, Ruth realized it was pouring.

When had it started raining?

Room 4’s occupants looked at the man expectantly. “Hope? You seen ‘er?” echoed Cruikshank.

Frank nodded slowly and closed the door behind him. “Yeah,” he breathed, “She, uh…She collapsed from exhaustion. Dr. Edmund is looking after her.”

“What?” Ruth blurted as her eyes widened in disbelief. Her whole body was on edge, the news sending shockwaves of panic through her. She could only imagine Hope laying in a scratchy bed surrounded by sick and injured men, forced to stay there for who knows how long. 

Collapsed? Exhaustion? Had something happened?

Before anyone could ask Frank further questions, she grabbed her jacket from her bed and pushed toward the door. “I need to see her.”

“Wait, Ruth.” Frank stepped in front of the door, a guilty look in his eyes as he blocked her path. “She doesn’t want visitors.”

Undeterred, she side-stepped him while pulling her jacket over her good arm. She needed to be there, had to be there for Hope. This wasn’t a time to let her handle things herself. “I’m not just a visitor, Frank. It’s me.”

But just as her hand reached the door handle, he put a hand on her shoulder, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. It was almost like the words pained him…like every syllable was a shot straight to the heart. “I know it’s you. She doesn’t want you to see her.”

Ruth froze, turning to stare at Frank as his words sunk in. “She doesn’t want me to see her?” Her voice wavered, and a mix of disbelief and hurt flashed over her face. “Why? Why doesn’t she want to see me?”

“Ruthie-” John started, taking a step toward her, but was interrupted.

She stepped out from under Frank’s hand on her shoulder and threw her arm up in the air. “No,” Ruth said, her voice raising as her frustration boiled over. She’d played this game the past few weeks, and enough was enough. “Why? Why doesn’t she want me there, Frank? Can you please tell me?” 

The outburst caught everyone off guard, the sharpness of her tone a stark contrast to her usual demeanor. Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise as he watched the scene before him. His heart ached for her, knowing how much she was hurting, and he felt a pang of helplessness. He always admired her quiet strength, her resilience, but seeing her like this…so vulnerable and desperate…it broke his heart.

Frank looked pained as he tried to explain. “She thinks she’s protecting you. She doesn’t want you to see her like this.”

Ruth’s shoulders slumped as the fight drained from her. “I’m sorry, Frank,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Thanks for, uh, telling me.”

All eyes followed her figure as she walked to her bunk and laid down, turning her back to all of them. She didn’t know how much more of it she could take. Things were so much easier when they had each other, and in isolating herself, Hope had accidentally isolated Ruth as well. Without the other, they were the only woman in the camp. 

Frank and John exchanged a glance, pure helplessness evident in both their eyes at the situation. They couldn’t make Hope talk to Ruth, and the fact they couldn’t do anything hurt more than any punishment either of the men recieved in captivity. 

Sighing heavily, Frank ran a hand through his dripping hair. “I wish there was more we could do,” he murmured.

Johnny nodded, glancing back at Ruth’s figure across the room. “Yeah, me too.” His voice was thick, and the usually talkative Major struggled to find the right words. “It’s tearing her apart, Martin. I’ve-I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Hope’ll come around, eventually. She has to.”

“I hope you’re right,” Bucky replied softly as his eyes remained fixed on the woman he loved. “I really hope you’re right.”

Thursday, November 4th: 1500 HRS: 3 PM

The days passed slowly for everyone in room 4, especially Ruth. While Frank was able to check on Hope in the infirmary, no one else was allowed to visit…this didn’t stop Ruth from trying, however. But to her dismay, she was turned away by Dr. Edmunds before she could even make it through the door. 

She attended class as normal and went about her days, but a dark cloud of worry loomed over her mind, consuming her every thought. Even as she wrote on the chalkboard behind her, she wasn’t fully present. If her students could tell something was wrong, they didn’t comment on it. They just copied down the notes in the notebooks the Red Cross sent them in their packages. 

“So, Lady Macbeth,” Ruth said as she scribbled the character name on the board,” She is an example of character archetype?” 

Her eyes flitted across the room, scanning each of the young men’s faces. Some were searching through their notes to find the answer while others stared at the board in thought. A hand flew up in the front corner of the room, and it brought a smile to Ruth’s face when she saw it was George. 

“Go ahead, George,” she gestured to him.

“Is she a femme fatale?”

“Great job. Lady Macbeth is a great example of a femme fatale. Now can someone besides George tell me what a femme fatale is?”

Before anyone could raise their hand, a knock sounded through the classroom. “Come in,” she called.

A few of the men gave her a wary look, unsure of who would be stopping by in the middle of a lesson. Since Ruth started teaching a few weeks prior, they hadn’t had any visitors. She thought it could be John who’d said he might pop in sometime to see her. Who stuck their head around the corner, however, was the last person she’d ever expect.

Hope.

Did she finally want to talk? After all that time?

Ruth glanced at her watch and placed down the chalk. 

“I think that’ll be all for today. Make sure to read up to Act 3, scene 2, and we’ll go from there in the next lesson.” 

The men packed up quickly and exited the room, sensing the unspoken tension between the women. Ruth leaned against her desk, arms crossed over her chest as she waited expectantly. To say she was surprised to see her friend in her class was an understatement. In all the time she’d been teaching in the camp Hope had never once visited. 

Relief and frustration bubbled up inside Ruth. Of course, she was happy to see her friend, but Hope treated her poorly and her words cut deep. She didn’t quite look annoyed but Hope knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t exactly pleased that she hadn’t allowed her to visit the infirmary. 

“I’m glad to see you’re up and about again,” Ruth replied plainly, a faint smile on her lips. This was her best friend, but she felt like a stranger now. “You had me worried, Hope…had me worried for a while now. Since the crash, you’ve not been yourself, and I understand that but…” she cut herself off, pushing herself away from her desk and moving to a table a few feet away from Hope.

Hope kept her eyes trained on the floor, unable to meet Ruth’s, embarrassment clear on her reddening cheeks as the tears building in her eyes threatened to fall. 

“I’m sorry, Rue…” she mumbled softly. 

Ruth sighed, moving closer and standing before her. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I know things haven’t been easy for you, but things haven’t been easy for me, either. We need each other, and you pushed me away…pushed us all away.” 

Tears welled in Ruth’s eyes, too, and Hope felt a choked sob slipping from her lips, “I failed you, Ruth. I just keep failing and disappointing you.” 

Sympathy easily overpowered Ruth’s frustration, and she tugged Hope into an embrace. Hope’s head fell against the blonde's shoulder and she felt Ruth’s arms encasing her as she cried. It was the most relief she’d felt in months: to truly cry…to release all the emotions that had been bottled up for the past month. 

“I’m so sorry, Ruth.”

The two women remained still, each clinging to the other as they cried over the events of the last few months. Neither of them had truly faced what had become of them but it was good to finally share in their grief. To face reality together.

Ruth pulled back, rubbing away the stray tears that streaked down her pale cheeks. “Hope please tell me what happened. Frank said you collapsed from exhaustion and didn’t want anyone to visit. I tried to anyways but Dr. Edmund said you weren’t up for visitors.” 

She wanted answers…needed answers as to why Hope quite literally shut her out.

Hope bit her lip, seemingly caught in a battle within herself. A few moments passed until she shakily spoke. “Well, I’ve not been sleeping too well for a while now but I’d finally finished the letter to Gale that Edmund promised to pass onto him,” she began, inhaling sharply between each sentence. “I went to the infirmary earlier, I couldn’t sleep and I wanted Edmund to have it as soon as possible. I went to the infirmary to drop it off and there was this man there…”

Hope gulped.

“He was a patient and was as good as dead, but…”

Ruth couldn’t help the emotion that clawed at her throat as Hope spoke. Her friend’s voice sounded so broken and painful as she relived the events that Ruth didn’t know what to say. What could she say?

“He grabbed me and he tried too… Well, he didn’t manage it. Edmund said it was all the shock of that and the sleep deprivation that my body finally just gave up. He put me on bed rest. Frank only found out because I was unconscious when he arrived and Edmund let him in.” 

Hope let out a long sigh, reaching to take Ruth’s shaking hands in her own, “I didn’t want you to see me so broken, Rue. I’ve always promised that I’d look after you but all I do is keep failing and letting you down.”

Ruth shook her head, fighting to keep her lip from trembling, “You haven’t failed me, alright? You’re the strongest, most talented, hardest working person I know, and you’re the most incredible nurse. I wouldn’t be here without you. Thank you for taking care of me, but it’s my turn to take care of you. You just have to let me.” 

A painful wail slipped from Hope as she sobbed once more, surrendering to her own grief. How had she been so blind to the pain she’d caused her friend? 

“I love you, Rue, I love you so much and I can’t lose you.” 

Ruth’s hand smoothed down Hope’s back, “I love you too, Hope. And don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Tag List: @xxluckystrike @precious-little-scoundrel @bcofl0ve @violetdaze25 @docroesmorphine -> will tag rest in comments!

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! <3

[tiofrean]

For @b1uetrees with many thanks <3 (You know what for! :3) It helped. Thank you <3

Silverflint modern!AU where Silver has a mean parrot named Pirate (don't be fooled, they both love him). Can be read here [link] for anyone interested.

The last piece is Pirate stuck in Flint's shirt. There was reckoning [evil laughter]

Markers on sketchbook paper.

[dr-rabbit-3]

A lil edit I did to give you an example of how John looks in the butterfly au he doesn't look much different

Except for his hair being super long for letting it grow in the hospital (I am LOVING him with long hair

Original in da under cut

[lpmurphy]

Spring in Tchakova Park

Read on AO3

Master List

Chapter Playlist

Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Complete 5/7/24)

Chapter Summary: Violet's dating history is exposed to the team. John, Violet and the team arrive at the Demeter Project, and John has a realization.

Chapter Twenty Eight: Sunshine

The two nights leading up to their shared mission had been chaotic. Violet filled each moment they were home with last minute planning and tasks. John had been exposed to the full scope of Violet’s disorganization that he had only seen glimpses of as they prepared for their trip into the mountains with her family. With the distraction of the inoperable system, she had become far more scattered than he had known her to be. She had emptied storage bins full of clothing onto their bed after returning home from work on Monday night, digging through the piles in search of her field clothing that she stuffed haphazardly into her duffel bag. He trailed behind her all night, silently cleaning up the mess she left in her wake as she tore through the apartment like a windstorm. He had been grateful when she left for a third time to run to the retail center for another item she had forgotten to purchase and left him to fold and tuck away the clothing that had accumulated on the bed in a silent house.

For their final night at home, Violet decided to invite the team over for one last dinner before they departed Reach for the foreseeable future. She had grocery shopped Sunday before returning to work and grumbled all Monday evening about food waste as she cooked dinner for the two of them, barely making a dent in the full fridge. He had received a message the next morning from Violet announcing that she needed help clearing out the fridge, requesting that the team join them at the apartment. Much to his annoyance, he found that she had put them all into a group thread together that she, Riz, and Kai communicated solely on for the remainder of the day as his pad buzzed every few minutes as Kai changed the name of the group to fit her current liking.

He took Sadie to her parents’ home once they arrived home that evening and left Violet to finish her last minute packing before the team arrived. Jane sent him home with even more food that he had attempted to politely decline until she met him with that hard stare that Violet had replicated when he came back through the door with arms full of dishes. Kai, Riz, and Vannak were all perched in their usual places as he came through the door, leaning to kiss Violet’s cheek as she took the dishes from him with a sigh. Kai and Vannak were both vocal in their disapproval of Sadie’s absence throughout the evening as they all picked at the contents of the refrigerator that Violet had prepared and set out on the island. It hadn’t taken long for the four Spartans to make quick work of the odds and ends, leaving a collection of empty dishes on the island as they sat around and talked. John stood in the kitchen with Vannak, both collecting dishes and trash as the three women sat huddled on the sofa. Riz announced after dinner that she and Violet had been on kitchen duty the last time they had all gathered, both women sending their men back into the kitchen with pleased smiles. They knew better than to argue.

“I have found four local carpenters that can reinforce furniture. Would you like me to send their information over to Doctor Harris’ pad?”

John looked over to where Violet sat between Riz and Kai on the sofa, the frame groaning under each shift of their weight. His team had spent nearly every other night since their return from the mountains in their apartment and Violet’s furniture had begun to protest each time he or a member of his team lowered themselves into it. He watched Violet tilt her head back to laugh at something Kai said, the blonde lowering herself off of the sofa as it groaned again to lay on the living room floor. 

“Get quotes from each. Send them over to mine once you have them.”

“Yes, Chief.”

Violet rose from the sofa as Riz and Kai turned their conversation to one another and crossed the living room to where he stood at the island. John lowered his cheek to her as she popped up onto her toes. Soft lips brushed against his jaw, her hand on his arm as he wrapped his own around her waist. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of her sweater and she rested her head on his arm, “Want to swap out for a bit?”

He pressed his lips to her head in response, “I’m fine. Go sit.”

“You sure? I feel bad; we’ve only been home from vacation for a few days and we’ve done nothing but get ready for the next one. You’re spoiling me with all this vacation time, I might start expecting it.”

He rolled his eyes at the tired joke she had been using since she received the news of their now shared assignment. “It’s not a vacation, goose,” he sighed, “It’s a humanitarian mission.”

“It’s a fucking babysitting job is what it is,” Vannak grumbled as he passed by her to settle beside Riz on the sofa. 

Violet smirked at his crotchety tone, John watching as he sat and threw his arm over the back of the sofa behind Riz. Violet followed him back to the living room to sit beside their friends again. “You don’t want to hang out with me? That hurts my feelings, Vannak. I thought we were friends. I’m sad now.” 

“Fuck off, Harris.” 

“Ouch,” she pressed a hand to her chest in mock offense, “And you kiss Riz with that mouth? Shame on you.”

Riz laughed from beside her as Vannak rolled her eyes and tucked her legs under herself, “So, tell us about this installation of yours?”

John watched Violet toss the blanket off of her lap and stand up to cross to the bookshelves as she excitedly explained the mission of the project he knew she held so dearly. She plucked a frame from the shelf below where their picture sat and turned to hold it out to Kai and Riz. He had seen the picture before; Violet standing with the Demeter team in front of one of the greenhouses, all smiling proudly with arms around one another. It was framed in her mother’s home as well. She tapped on the face of each of her companions as she spoke.

“There were nine of us in total before I left,” she explained, smiling as she looked over the faces of her team, “The research team was made up of myself, Meredith, and Devrin. Saul is our ionic physicist, Jin is a biochemist and the smartest woman I’ve ever met. Leif and Bastian are our horticulturists, and Derek and Corey are the project engineers. They’re all exceptional.”

Kai pointed beyond her to the shelves, her augmented vision honed in on another frame, “Who’s the Ranger?”

John knew exactly what picture Kai referenced. He had noticed it himself shortly after he started spending time in her apartment; Violet standing shoulder to shoulder with a dark haired Ranger, his arm around her as they laughed. It had been an innocent enough image tucked between pictures of Violet with other friends that he hadn’t thought anything of it. He picked up Vannak’s plate off the island and set it into the sink with a smirk as Violet started to blush.

“Oh that? He’s just an old friend. He was stationed at the same base.”

John couldn’t help the chuckle that barked out of him, “ Oh, ‘an old friend’? That’s what we’re calling him now?” 

She sighed as she set the frame back down on the shelf, cheeks still red as she returned to her spot on the sofa, “Oh my god, stop. We’ve been over this.”

Riz and Kai looked to him quizzically as he continued to collect dishes. “They dated,” he explained, both redhead and blonde nodding in acknowledgement. 

Riz looked back to Violet, “I thought Dev was a scientist?” 

“He is… Greg is a Ranger, though.” 

“Violet Harris, you little harlot,” Kai laughed. She raised a foot to gently kick Violet’s knee in jest from where she lay on her back on the living room floor, turning her head to look up at Violet, “Two exes at the same base?”

Violet scoffed and kicked Kai’s knee in return, her touch doing nothing to move the larger woman. Her cheeks remained red, John smirking as she sputtered and pointed across the living room to where he stood. “John fucked a POW. Why don’t we talk more about that? Why is my dating history suddenly under scrutiny?”

Vannak, Kai and Riz all let out a collective groan at the statement. “Old news, Harris,” Riz said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “We all know about that. This is far more interesting."

"Tell us, Doctor Harris," Kai pontificated. She pantomimed speaking into a microphone, " How many broken hearts did you leave in your wake? How many men are there?”

Violet rubbed her face with a groan as she pushed Kai's imaginary microphone away from her mouth and shot him a dirty look over her shoulder, “He’s making it sound far more exciting of a story than it is; we were close friends, we both were interested but never acted on it until Dev and I broke up. We dated for a few months before I left for Reach. We both knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere, we were just enjoying one another’s company. We’re friends. That’s all.”

“I remember there being more to the story than just that.” Cortana smirked.

John rolled his eyes at the single detail she had chosen to omit. Violet had shared the story with him weeks ago, claiming full honesty in one another’s lives after the night he left. She had told him of her ‘old friend’ one night, nervously sharing each detail. He found it comically hypocritical that his botanist now withheld information as she spoke of it to them. He leaned his elbows against the island, “Is that why you made a marriage pact, then?” 

“John,” she sighed, four pairs of eyes fixed upon her as she dropped her head into her hands. 

“A what?” Kai laughed. 

Violet lifted her head and held her hands out in defeat, flashing a tight, embarrassed smile, “I had just turned thirty, he’s four years older than me, we both want kids. We agreed that if we both were still single when I turned thirty two that we would get married. Obviously, we aren’t, because look at where you are all currently sitting. I love John very much. Everyone shut up and drop it.” 

John relented at the tight-smiled glare he caught from across the room, recognizing impending trouble for himself when he could see it. Vannak continued to chuckle, ignoring Riz’s warning taps on his knee, “Are you going to kick his ass too, Chief?”

“No one is kicking anyone’s ass,” Violet groaned, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks, “We’re going to go, we’re going to do what we need to do, and everyone is going to be cool about it. Got it?”

Kai raised her hand from where she laid on the floor, “What about Dev? Am I allowed to kick his ass?” 

John looked to Violet for her reply, biting back his permission to use Johal for target practice if Kai so desired. Violet sighed and turned back to the woman beside her.

“I said-. Do not-.” You-,” she stopped and sighed again, clapping her hands together and bringing them to her chin. She pondered for a moment before nodding in approval, “That’s fine. You can kick his ass. But just him, no one else, Kai. Understood?”

Kai laughed and nodded, “You never let us have any fun, Harris.”

Riz shook her head and glanced over at the late evening hour on the chrono, announcing that it was time for the three to return to the base. The three rose in a chorus of chatter as Violet hugged both women goodbye, ignoring Vannak’s begrudging protests as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze. John and Riz exchanged a sympathetic look with one another at the realization that they were stuck playing audience to their antics until the repairs were completed. Something about the sight of them all in the apartment together, Violet hugging and laughing with his sisters and bantering with his brother, felt right to him. As if it should have always been that way. John had only known a few places he had considered home in his lifetime, yet all of them had lacked the feeling he felt now as he stood in their kitchen and watched her wish their family a goodnight in the home she gave him. It was the same feeling he had felt every time he sat under the Harris’ backyard lights, the same feeling he had felt watching them all swim in that cold lake, the same feeling he had felt as they laid around the dying fire beside the oak listening to them swap stories while Violet slept on his chest. It was a wholeness that filled him up; a warm heaviness that crawled over him like he was standing in the sun. He hoped it would never leave.

The lock rolled in the tumbler as Violet turned from the door, crossing the apartment to the bedroom door and disappeared inside. “I’m going to change and then I’ll come help you finish up,” she called behind her.

“Already done,” he called back. He left the kitchen and crossed to the balcony windows. The park laid below him, illuminated in the dusky glow of the lamp posts. His eyes fell to the pricks of light on the water, finding the yellow glow of where he stood.

“Okay, can you come help me double check my bag then? I feel like I forgot something.”

John glanced over to where she had returned to the doorway. His response caught in his throat as he realized that she had not been dressed in the pullover and sweatpants she had worn the night before to be. He raked his eyes over the garment she wore instead; all sheer black lace that did little to cover her. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, Violet smirking up at him from where she leaned against the doorframe. John forgot what he had been doing, nor could he remember what they had been discussing as his eyes rolled over her again and he matched the playful look on her face. 

“What’s this?”

“Oh, this? I picked it up one of the times I went out last night. I felt bad for being such a pain this week. And, you were clear that we’re not allowed to be ‘inappropriate’ with one another while we’re away,” she smiled, John recalling the conversation regarding the profession courtesies to be expected on this joint deployment they engaged in night before,  “So, I figured since it’s our last night at home, and we don’t have a dog to share a bed with, we might as well get our fill of each other.”

“Might as well.”

“But,” she sighed the word out in a playful singsong, “You did just make me look like a total skank in front of our friends.”

She clicked her tongue and shrugged, pushing herself off of the wall. She turned her back to him to reveal how deliciously little the garment covered as she began to push the bedroom door shut behind her, “So, I think I’m going to change and go to bed instead. Goodnight!” 

John crossed the room in a matter of steps to press his hand against the door as she giggled from behind it. Violet met him with a smirk as he started to remove his shirt. 

“On the bed, goose.”

She smiled that Violet smile, her eyes burning as she looked up at him. She stepped back against the bed and perched herself on the edge of it to watch as he began to work off his pants. 

“ That’s naked enough for me to know it’s time to abide by Rule #1,” Cortana sighed, “Goodnight, Chief.”

---

John couldn’t think of a place less fitting for Violet as he looked over the base. 

“Cortana?” 

Cortana stood beside him in the cockpit as the ship lowered onto the tarmac with a lurch, blue light glowing on the walls around him as she briefed him.

“ Forward Operating Base Nomad,” Cortana chirped, “Located 30 klicks east of a small civilian settlement. The locals are of Cambodian descent and speak primarily Khmer. Several insurgent cells populate the area. The primary function of the base had been to engage with the local population to gather intelligence, build relationships, and conduct civil-military operations. The Ranger team assigned to the base has worked with the locals to form and train a small militia, along with conducting operations out of the base.”

“And it houses a badass scientific project,” Violet called. John turned over his shoulder to her. Violet braided her still shower-damp hair as she approached the cockpit, “Can’t forget about that, Cortana.”

She had changed into cargo pants and a thin long sleeve embellished with the project’s insignia since emerging from cryosleep. She had spent the better part of the past half hour in the showers, her and Vannak tossing back insults as she still retched and gagged on the taste of the suppressant that had filled her lungs over the past three weeks of travel. Cortana had been there when Violet woke to remind her to sit up and cough, speaking gently to Violet as she turned and vomited directly onto the floor, and continued to spit up bile and the mucus-like suppressant for several minutes after. 

She was still slightly green as she stepped into the cockpit to stand beside him and press a kiss to his jaw. John noticed the length of tawny brown fabric she wore loosely wrapped around her neck. She had fished it out of a box in her closet while packing at the apartment and he didn’t ask how a civilian contractor had ended up with a tactical scarf that looked like it had made it through several missions. He hadn’t been sure he wanted the answer as he watched the determined way she had stuffed it into her rucksack.

“That as well, Doctor Harris,” Cortana agreed with a smile, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Thank you, Cortana. Again, I’m so sorry for throwing up on you.”

“Well, being that you vomited through me, as it would be impossible for you to vomit��on me, I assume all is forgiven.”

Violet laughed that musical laugh and nodded before turning green eyes up to John, “One last kiss before the helmet goes on and I’m not allowed to touch you? I brushed my teeth twice, I promise.”

John chuckled and lowered his lips to hers, Violet taking his face in her hands. Cortana excused herself in a flurry of blue light, leaving them alone. John was grateful for the moment together, her lips on his and his hand on her back. She released his face with a final peck on the cheek, smiling at him before turning out of the cockpit.

“Come on,” she called, “Let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

A team was waiting on the tarmac as they arrived, the engines kicking up swirls of dust as they stepped off into the heat. Violet blocked the bright sunlight that flooded into the cargo bay with a raised hand as the ramp dropped. John had seen dozens of FOBs just like the one that laid beyond the tarmac; command center surrounded by several different semi-permanent structures, a small field hospital, and CHU housing. A perimeter wall surrounded the base, fortified with a handful of guard towers, concertina wire, and surveillance equipment to monitor and defend against potential threats. The small base sat in the foreground of jagged mountains dotted with skeletal trees. He couldn’t picture Violet in a place with such little green, much less being there for four years.

Three greenhouses sat on the far side of the base beside a low building. They were much less grandiose versions of the ones Violet occupied back at FLEETCOM, smaller and dingier with panes covered in the dust that seemed to cling to everything. Each bore the same insignia on the polycarbonate roofs that Violet wore on the pocket of her shirt; an overflowing cornucopia ringed with laurel leaves. He’d seen the same insignia on a few of the pullovers she would slip into after their evening runs; The Demeter Project. 

He watched Violet descend the ramp as it touched down on the tarmac, pulling the scarf over her mouth and nose as she stepped down into the still swirling grime. John found that their welcome committee didn’t consist of just the team sent out to retrieve supplies as his heavy footsteps thudded against the ramp. He recognized the Ranger whose picture sat in their apartment at the base of the ramp, the name of his uniform confirming his identity to John. He stood straight, hands clasped behind his back as Violet continued down the ramp and pulled the scarf over her head. The thick deployment beard did nothing to hide the smile that the dark haired man tried to suppress at the sight of Violet.

“Captain Mullins,” Violet called over the quieting engines, continuing down the ramp to him. 

“Welcome back, Doctor Harris. Wonderful to see you, as always,” he nodded. John stayed behind her, watching as the man’s eyes darted to him behind the lenses of his sunglasses, “Master Chief, sir.”

Violet smiled, her hand still raised as she spoke, “They still have you at this shithole?”

“Some of us call this shithole home, Doctor. You did not too long ago. Not all of us get to waltz off to a corner office.” 

She laughed that musical laugh as she stepped in front of him on the tarmac, the man’s smile only growing. John’s jaw tightened as Mullins reached a hand to Violet’s face and tugged at the scarf, adjusting it so that it blocked the sun from her eyes. 

“It’s hardly a corner office,” she laughed, “More of a supply closet with some leg room.”

“Just a friendly reminder that breaking his wrist would most likely result in a court-martial. Do with that information what you will, Chief.” 

“Noted.”

“Sounds like leaving wasn’t as much of an adventure as you hoped for, then.”

“It was, actually,” Violet responded, her nose crinkling slightly, “In other ways. I’ll fill you in later when we get some free time.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’m sure he would,” Cortana grumbled, “ On second thought, I could make revisions to reports to make any injuries seem like a terrible accident. Just give me the word, Chief. I’m ready when you are.”

John ignored Cortana’s tight tone and watched as Violet pulled Mullins in for a hug. It was a friendly gesture, the same way he had seen her force hugs upon Vannak. But Mullins leaned into her in the same way John would when Violet would snake her arms around him. Mullins laughed as he pulled Violet to him.

“It’s nice to see you, Greg,” she smiled.

“Hey, sunshine,” John stiffened even further, “Good to have you home.” 

The man released Violet from the bear hug he had wrapped her into, readjusting the shifted scarf with a smile of his own. “Your team set your room back up at the Garden Center- no one’s been in there since you left. You’re welcome to stay there, but I heard rumors that Saul and Leif may have turned it into a gaming room so you may have to evict a few squatters.”

She rolled her eyes with an amused sigh, “Still acting like a couple of fifteen year olds?”

“You thought they would magically grow up in the eight months you’ve been gone?”

She scoffed, still shaking her head as Mullins turned to address John again, “I apologize, Master Chief, but we are short on housing. We are happy to see what temporary accommodations we can make for your team until we are able to find something more long-term.”

“Ooo, offer to bunk with Doctor Harris,” Cortana offered, tone dripping with mischief, “That may be enough for him to pick up on.”

John rolled his eyes, “We will be fine on the Condor, Captain.”

Mullins nodded and went on to ask about unloading the supplies. Violet jumped in to answer before John could speak, “It's only a portion of what was promised- the freighter is about three days behind us with the rest even though they left with us but, hey, that's Slipspace for you. It should be enough to get them through a few days. The three over there are mine. It’s expensive equipment, Greg. Like, lose my job if it’s broken kind-of expensive. Make sure it’s handled appropriately, please.”

“Have I ever let you down?”

Violet nodded and turned back up the ramp, calling that she should get her things before the unloading team came up to retrieve cargo and load it onto the small convoy that sat on the tarmac. John turned to follow her into the cargo bay, the neat end of her braid swaying with each step she took. He watched as she looked around, mumbling to herself as she tried to remember where she had stowed away her things in the week prior, fingers fidgeting with the fraying edge of the scarf.

John pointed to the far side of the cargo bay to where her bags sat, Violet muttering out a triumphant noise as she wove through the crates to her things. John followed behind, “Sunshine, huh?” 

“Oh, please,” she groaned, slinging her rucksack over her shoulders, “Don’t start. We’ve gone over this; we dated for a few months. I lived here for four years, mind you. I had a life before I met you. You do remember that we practically live together, right?”

“I’m aware.” 

Violet huffed out a laugh and shook her head, “You’re so jealous.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You so are,” she laughed, pulling her eyes from his to continue to look for her bag. He reached to her face, tucking a finger up her chin and lifting her face to make her eyes meet his again. Green looked up at him from under thick lashes, lips parted slightly in surprise. 

“I’m not jealous,” his voice was low as he spoke, Violet’s eyes never leaving his as he held her chin in gauntleted hand, “That would mean I want something I can’t have. I’m protecting what belongs to me.” 

Violet eyes darkened slightly at his statement as she smiled up at him, taking his wrist in her hand and pressing her lips to his palm. “All yours, big guy,” she murmured, “Now can you please be nice?”

John brought his hand to her face, brushing his thumb along her cheek. Violet looked up at him from under the edge of that scarf in a way that was so different from the way she had looked at Mullins on the tarmac; in a way he knew belonged only to him in all of that warmth and loveliness. He traced his thumb along the curve of her lips and she pressed her lips to the pad of it as she watched her reflection in the visor of his helmet. All yours, she had said. He was all hers as well. Every piece and part and dent belonged to her. 

“Whatever you say, goose.” 

Those eyes that belonged to only him were pulled away at the sound of Mullins’ voice on the ramp. John dropped his hand as Violet reached down to pick up her duffel bag.

“Hey, Harris! You headed to the labs? I can have a couple of guys take your equipment over before we head out with supplies.” 

Violet’s footsteps thudded against the ramp as she walked towards where Mullins stood beside the crates that held her equipment. She tossed her bags atop one of them. “You think I’m going to miss out on a trip into town? Yeah, right. You know me better than that, Greg. I’m coming with you. You can have them take my things there. I’ll head that way when we get back.”

Mullins nodded and called out orders to the unloading team. A small group of men greeted Violet as they came to collect her supplies and she greeted each by name with bright smiles. Mullins nodded towards the installation and John followed his eyes to the group of people that approached, all but one waving excitedly at Violet as they neared, “Geek Squad is out here to see you.” 

John recognized the bounce of Meredith Powell’s hair as she sprinted at Violet, tackling her to the ground in a tight hug. Violet yelped as she was knocked to the ground, the sound immediately replaced by that musical laughter as she clung to her friend. The rest of the team lingered behind, all stepping forward to hug his botanist after Meredith helped her back to her feet. They watched him with wide eyes as he stood behind her, but the moment of wonder was lost to Violet as she pulled them all in with happy laughter. John noticed that Devrin stayed back, arms crossed tightly against his chest as he nodded to Violet.

“Doctor Harris.”

“Doctor Johal.” 

Dev regarded John with a curt nod, a flicker of fear in the scientist’s eyes before he turned to head back to the installation. Mullins called out to Violet again with that nickname that made John grit his teeth from where the convoy sat. Violet turned away from her team to where Mullins stood and waved her over, “We’re ready when you are, kid!”

Violet squeezed the shoulders of the large African American man she hugged- John recognized him as Saul from her picture- and turned away with promises to catch up with all of them later. John watched as Violet crossed to where Mullins waited for her.

“You’re all with me,” John said, the team’s acknowledgement lights flashing on his HUD as they all started down the ramp towards the convoy, “Looks like we’re taking a drive.”

Violet smiled at him over her shoulder as she talked to Mullins, watching as soldiers loaded into the convoy behind them. Mullins tore his eyes away from the botanist to acknowledge Silver Team as they approached before returning his attention to Violet, “Insurgent groups have been active again since the famine. We’ve been working with the local militia to keep it at bay, but it’s not like you remember it. It’s best if you stick with an armed escort, sunshine.”

John stepped behind Violet, subtly tapping his hand against her back. He was sure he would get an earful from her about breaking his own rules when they got a moment together. She leaned into the touch, looking over to where Kai, Riz, and Vannak stepped beside him with one of those bright smiles before turning back with Mullins.

“Well, I was sent with four. I think I’ll be alright, don’t you?”

---

Violet jumped into action as soon as they arrived in the village. John watched as she interacted with the crowd of villagers that met the convoy and chatted with each soldier in that same warm way; asking of spouses and parents and children as she greeted each. Each seemed to meet Violet with that same warmth, her brightness touching all those around her even in the bleak village. John watched as she reached into the crates, passing out rations and supplies to villagers that she greeted in their native tongue, chatting with each in Khmer as they approached her. Pride settled into him as he watched her goodness translate into the sense of gentle authority that had come over her since they arrived. 

John watched as a young girl ran up to Violet and threw her arms around her middle. Violet wrapped her arms around the child without looking down to identify her first, but John watched her face light up in happy recognition as she did. Violet took the girl’s face in her hands as she spoke excitedly to the girl in the tonal language. John leaned over to where Riz stood beside him watching the distribution, Violet still smiling as she brushed the girl’s hair out of her face.

“What’s she saying?” 

Riz listened for a moment as Violet spoke to the girl, “She’s telling her how tall and beautiful she’s gotten.” 

Cortana continued to translate for him long after Riz did. She buzzed between his ears as she relayed each side of the villagers’ conversations with Violet. She spoke to each one with nothing but softness; her voice kind and gentle. Each villager regarded her as one would welcome home an old friend, wide smiles passed between each party. Violet reached out and grasped the hand of a woman who welcomed her in greeting, asking the woman how her mother had been and if her sister had delivered her baby. She told another little boy how much he looked like his older brother as she hugged him tightly. She asked another man about his wife, and when he replied that she was with child, Violet looked around to make sure no one had been watching before she slipped the man a few extra rations with that kind smile. It went on like that for some time. John watched as the goodness that she radiated like sunbeams touched everyone she surrounded in her. Sunshine, Mullins had called her. The captain hadn’t been too far off.

He looked from Violet to where the captain stood with members of his team, turned at his fellow Ranger’s side so that he could both speak to the man and still assess the crowd. Mullins watched beyond where villagers gathered at the convoy to where Violet stood, the captain watching her with the same soft smile that was hidden behind his helmet. John had never been the most adept with social queues, but he recognized the man’s look immediately; John had looked at Violet that same way since that evening he met her in the park. He had seen other men look at her that way before; MPs she’d become friendly with at the gates back home, horticulturalists on her team, damn near every man she had walked past on that base just today. He found with each of their stares that the fear he had once felt did not come. It did not creep in like a frost and chill him until he could no longer move. He did not fear and lament the man who would come after him and someday deserve Violet Harris. He simply knew there would never be another man. He was the only one she looked back at the same way.

Violet looked up at the sound of a dog’s bark. John found the pitch of it familiar. Her eyes fell on the source; a small pack of dogs that lay panting in the shade of a building. He had noticed the population of strays that roamed the village when they arrived. A smile crept across her face at the sight and she stepped to the edge of the vehicle’s cargo bed to lower herself to the ground. Mullins was on her in an instant, offering his hand for balance with another grin. Violet took his hand with an appreciative smile and hopped down with a puff of dirt, returning her focus to the dogs. She slowly approached the dogs, their eyes watching and ears twitching as she approached them with a series of soft whistles followed by calm whispers. 

The dog in the center sat up, a black and white collie with a graying snout, and whined happily as Violet padded near them. John watched the dog’s tail start to sway as Violet approached, the excited wiggle to how it moved reminding him of the way Sadie greeted him at the door every evening. Violet crouched down beside it, speaking softly to the pup as she started to scratch its ears. John noticed a Shepard sitting beside the collie in the shade, his bright white fur dull and dirty. He watched Violet cautiously as she pet the collie, protective of the dog that licked at the botanist’s hands. It reminded him of the dog he saw in his memories.

“Captain!” Kai called.

Mullins looked up, crossing from where he stood supervising the distribution as Kai waved him over. She gestured to where Violet sat with the grouping of dogs, giggling as the collie licked her face. “What’s with the wildlife?”

“It’s a part of the local charm. They stopped keeping them as pets years ago because they couldn’t feed them. They formed packs and started finding their own food sources. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with Doctor Harris’ dog, but she adopted Sadie from the streets about two years ago. See that one she’s petting? That’s Sadie’s momma. Doctor Harris always makes sure to say hello. No animals on base, but Violet hid her for about three months before command found out. She found some loophole about installation rules over base rules, so Sadie became somewhat of a mascot for the project. She loves that dog something fierce. I’m surprised she was willing to leave her behind. I wonder who she trusted enough with her baby while she’s here.”

“Yeah, Chief,” John could hear the grin masked by Kai’s helmet in her voice as she looked over to him, “Who is watching your dog while you and Doctor Harris are here?”

Mullins straightened up and pulled his eyes from Violet to look up at the Master Chief, John watching realization wash over his face at Kai’s question. Violet looked up from the old dog to glance over at John, offering him one of those bright Violet smiles. He couldn’t blame the captain for staring; John could understand every look she got. But those green eyes never left him, even as Mullins’ eyes returned to her, a little bit more forlorn this time.

John watched as Violet stroked the dog’s back again, giving her rear a pat before standing up. She dusted off her hands on her pants, eyes finding him again from where she stood in the shade. Violet brought her hand up again to block the dropping sun from her eyes as she gave him a small wave, the warmth in her eyes rivaling the blistering air around him and John found himself caught in the gaze that belonged to only him.