Fic: Cast No Shadow; Band of Brothers; Lipton/Speirs
Title: Cast No Shadow
Author: Nakeno
Pairing: Lipton/Speirs
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing and this certainly isn't meant to disrespect anyone.
Summary: He smiles at Lipton. Or, tries to. He forgets what it's supposed to feel like on his face when he means it.
A/N: The style of this is choppy and fragmented; not for everyone. But I think it just might be my favorite of anything I've written for this fandom.
When he first sees him he thinks, too gentle. Too gentle, will never make it. Brown-eyed and soft-voiced, not paratrooper material.
Georgia will weed him out and Too Gentle will go home without ever having tasted the burst of a prop-blast.
The next time he sees him he thinks, I was wrong. It's not a thought he has often. I-Was-Wrong-About-Him is not drinking but his jumpwings glint. His smile is easy, satisfied but not self-satisfied. He's happy for the men around him more than he is for himself. Odd, that one. One of Easy's noncoms with the easy smile.
The Odd One with the Easy Smile.
**
The third time he sees him, Easy Smile is not smiling and his face is lined with black. He's determined and, he thinks, too polite when he says 'yes, sir.' Twelve men of Easy, Easy Smile included, march off to take part in the war.
Twelve men. He balances the odds and is ready when word comes down to gather a handful of Dog Company to assist in the taking of the guns of Brecourt.
Twelve Easy. Five Dog. A Fucking Sight More Than Us Germans.
He balances the odds, but doesn't think about it long. Preoccupied with being dead while living. Preoccupied with casting no shadow. Preoccupied with being who this war needed him to be.
He sprints. He kills. His P.O.W. trigger-finger is still warm. It's even more simple to be ruthless with an armed enemy. Dog has three men killed and two wounded. None are himself. He's standing alone, helmet-less, behind the 105 when Easy's Gentle-Determined noncom shows up with the demolition kit. He feels a funny pinprick of surprise to see him still alive. Wasn't in the odds. Then again, neither is himself.
They blow it. Pull back.
He thinks of Easy. He thinks of Winters and asks the question once back at the C.P. Toccoa officers had familiarity with each other. He's never been shy.
He thinks he's sure the question doesn't matter. He damn well asks anyway.
Afterwards, he sees him a fourth time and is able to think, Lipton. And that is all.
**
Only after Carentan is taken he realizes he can still feel disappointment. If he hadn't learned his name, he wouldn't have noticed his absence.
When he makes it by the aid station to take stock of Dog's condition he hears the Cajun boy fussing. It's only then he realizes he can feel as much relief as he can disappointment; that he feels either makes him very wary.
On the outskirts of Carentan he shifts in the shadows that aren't his, makes friends with the dark. It's a friend worth having, even with all the bayonet-happy privates about. The Cajun boy gives him a look of tempered anger when he requests that Talbert be quiet, stabbed or not. If not quiet, then removed. Immediately.
He doesn't feel guilty, but he takes note of the look because Lipton had made the same expression come across that particular medic's face.
**
When he runs across Lipton again, he can see Carentan on his skin, beneath his right eye. Etched in permanently. Darker than the pale of his face from the cold and the snow. The scar doesn't look tender, but, then again, neither does Lipton anymore.
He smiles at Lipton. Or, tries to. He forgets what it's supposed to feel like on his face when he means it.
He smiles at Lipton and Lipton smiles back when they pass each other in the white whiteness of Bastogne and he thinks, damn good soldier, that one and not Lipton.
**
Lipton stays with Easy and some of Easy stays in the Bois Jacques. But not Lipton.
He thinks it's funny when none of the Easy men he comes across takes a smoke from him, but he doesn't laugh. He thinks about Lipton's smile and wonders if he smokes. When he hears the artillery whistling and shattering and his back is to the icy-dark ground of the inside of his foxhole he thinks, if he doesn't after this, he never will.
Later, as they are taking Foy, he thinks of Dike, he'll get them all killed. He stands near the tree-line in reserve and stonily watches this nearly come to pass.
Nearly.
Winters calls him front and center; he doesn't hesitate. Under order, he goes. He goes to Lipton. Those brown eyes project relief. He takes the situation into hand.
He finds himself commanding Easy. In commanding Easy he finds himself.
When he runs across the length of German lines under the pelleting of gunfire and the vibration of artillery he wonders about what those dark eyes look like on his back. It's an odd thing to be thinking about and he knows it. Notes it.
He decides, after meeting up with Item Company who have been cut off on the other side of town, to go back and check.
Lipton grins. A lot. And it's muzzle-flashes in the dark.
After careful deliberation he thinks, worth it.
**
After Foy there's Noville and there's talk and he learns the nickname 'Lip.' Battlefield Commission to be given. Hell of a soldier. Has been holding Easy on their feet. An encouraging word for each man. Hell of a soldier.
In Rachamps he tells Lipton he wants to ask. Ask about the infamous rumors that go hand-in-hand when his name is brought up without his presence. Lipton tells him none of that really matters. Tells him Easy's been waiting on him since Winters. He tells Lipton that Easy's had Lipton since Winters. It evens out.
When he leaves the convent he thinks, I'll be seeing a lot of Carwood. He's surprisingly pleased with this idea. It makes him mentally more wary than before.
It can't be helped though. Rumors don't seem to effect Lipton because when he offers a smoke, Lip takes it. Smiles and takes it. What can he do with that?
He confuses himself by smiling back with more ease than before. Like killing, it becomes easier with practice.
**
In Haguenau he sees Lipton all dark-eyed with his chin tilted to his chest and thinks about how pale he is. How he shakes. He pitches his frustration with gestures and furrowed brow and sharp voice because Carwood is fucking stubborn. He makes Lipton take the single bed in the room they share. He takes the floor. Lip coughs and sweats and in the dark he tells him, 'your dying won't do.'
In the morning, the medic is talking about miracles and he thinks, nope, Carwood just knows how to follow an order.
He's so thrilled with the recovery he lets spill about the official nod of promotion that should be coming in any time now.
When it does and when Lipton shakes his hand after Nixon and Winters' he thinks, strong grip. He chases Lipton into the frosty air to share a smoke with his newly minted Second Lieutenant. Shares a smoke and a grin and thinks, this isn't half bad.
With Lipton there are no rumors and there are shadows on the ground. One looks like his own. He's not sure how to feel about this at first.
Knows he shouldn't be feeling anything at all.
**
But in Saverne Lip also shares his disdain for combat drilling while in reserve and his mixed disappointment-elation for having to send a good soldier home on a drawing for States rotation. He decides he's earned the right to feel a sense of friendship. He has a comrade in Easy. He's done more dangerous things than confide.
They move from Saverne to Mourmelon. There are furloughs in Mourmelon.
In England, he says 'I do' to a young widow who is having his child. It's a quiet, unspectacular ceremony. When he kisses her she smiles and he thinks, Carwood's done this.
When he's back among Easy he wears his ring on his dogtag chain. Out of sight, out of mind. He's going to be a father soon.
When he's back Lipton smiles at him, asks about England. He smiles (practice makes perfect) and his new ring itches against his chest and he thinks, Lip wears his on his finger.
It should be nothing to share the news. To confide. But in the morning light Lipton's shadow mingles with his own so he just says 'fine.'
**
In Germany he gets light fingers with his baby boy in mind. Lipton doesn't judge. He likes that. Lip also doesn't ask. He dislikes that a little more than he knows he's entitled to. He thinks, I want to come clean.
He plays cards instead. Nixon gets drunk, Welsh gets drunker-- as his alcoholic pallet isn't as picky. It's just him and Lipton at the table in the end and Lipton smiling with every good hand he has. Which is one good hand too many. He likes that Lip makes him work for it. Likes that Lip has a good poker face even if those brown eyes tell everything and he's throwing hands like a crazy man. They smoke and Lip laughs with delight and he thinks, I wouldn't mind losing every hand. Legitimately or not.
It should be scarier than accurate gunfire.
It isn't. And he has three Purple Hearts.
**
In the Eagle's Nest he fucks up. He's drunk. It's Nixon's fault. Mostly. He's sit-swaying at Nixon's feet when he sees Lipton. He says, 'Lieutenant Lipton' with something like welcoming in his voice. Like Winters isn't making an announcement.
The German army surrenders. Just like that. The fight with Germany: over.
Winters steals Nixon to gift him with a victory present and he watches the way Nix follows after Dick readily and thinks, I wonder. But he's drunk so it doesn't matter. What matters is Lipton hugs Welsh. Who is so delighted by the news that he has to make post-haste to the A.P.O.
That leaves him next. Stand-swaying. Lipton smiles (flares in the dark) and his arms go around those shoulders first. He smells the clean-ness of the man and, more importantly, he feels the indrawn breath that Lipton gives.
Drunken, he hugs too tight.
After a moment, one of Lipton's hands slide to the small of his back and he thinks, that's invitation enough.
He does it because he's drunk. Because the German army has thrown in the towel. Because Lipton is warm and feels good in his embrace.
When he pushes Lipton up against the sun-warmed brick he accidentally kicks over a half-full bottle of champagne. He sees their shadows, cramped and close beside them, almost one.
Lip gasps, but it's good. Too good. He thinks, far, far too good.
Lipton kisses like his first impression of him; gentle.
He kisses his first lieutenant like he didn't kiss his wife. Lipton makes his hands tremble.
Lipton says, 'I'm married.' After only a heartbeat, 'sir.' It makes him flinch. Lipton's eyes are wide and wet and he comes clean. Finally. It's not the relief he wants it to be. It changes Carwood's look of regret into a look of sympathy. He doesn't know which he hates more. He doesn't like the way Lipton says 'congratulations.'
Later, that champagne burns like a bullet wound coming up.
Which is why he gives the order not to overdo the damn drinking.
**
Not that it saves Grant from a bullet to the brain in Austria. Not that it keeps his hands from shaking when he's staring down the culprit all icy-eyed and tight-lipped and his sidearm is out. He thinks, he's gonna live, he's gonna live, Grant will live and doesn't fire.
His hands have never shook when they bore a weapon before. He thinks he should see Lipton about it. Demand he undo his damage. He doesn't.
He holes up on a balcony and considers getting drunk again. Instead, Lipton finds him as he leans against the railing, white-knuckled. He says nothing. Lip seems to decide breaking the silence isn't necessary but he does step up and place a warm hand on his shoulder.
Lipton draws him away from the balcony. And he goes.
Without protest, without comment he lets Lipton lead. Because Lipton knows how.
In the dark of Carwood's bedroom his hands shake again. Lipton kisses his knuckles, his palms. Lip knows about the shooting done and the shooting not done. He thinks it makes the trembling okay.
They touch scars and finger-fist hair. He thinks maybe if he hadn't been drunk the first time he tasted that mouth...
In the morning he sees Lipton's wedding ring on the night table. Quietly he compares their bands. It's a close fit, but it works. He exchanges them as Carwood sleeps. Tucking the worn band inside his shirt and leaving the newer behind.
He dresses and leaves for the C.P. He thinks, he'll never notice.
There's talk about redeployment to the Pacific. Talk of war. It ends up being just that; talk. Major Winters interrupts a company baseball game to confirm as much.
The war is over. He stares at his shadow on the ground next to the jeep.
There's laughing. Chasing. He stays put. Watches.
When the men disperse, he sees Lipton laughing. Later he's got that image in his head and he touches at the ring tucked between two dogtags and hidden beneath his undershirt.
And Speirs thinks, mine.
-End-
Author: Nakeno
Pairing: Lipton/Speirs
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing and this certainly isn't meant to disrespect anyone.
Summary: He smiles at Lipton. Or, tries to. He forgets what it's supposed to feel like on his face when he means it.
A/N: The style of this is choppy and fragmented; not for everyone. But I think it just might be my favorite of anything I've written for this fandom.
When he first sees him he thinks, too gentle. Too gentle, will never make it. Brown-eyed and soft-voiced, not paratrooper material.
Georgia will weed him out and Too Gentle will go home without ever having tasted the burst of a prop-blast.
The next time he sees him he thinks, I was wrong. It's not a thought he has often. I-Was-Wrong-About-Him is not drinking but his jumpwings glint. His smile is easy, satisfied but not self-satisfied. He's happy for the men around him more than he is for himself. Odd, that one. One of Easy's noncoms with the easy smile.
The Odd One with the Easy Smile.
**
The third time he sees him, Easy Smile is not smiling and his face is lined with black. He's determined and, he thinks, too polite when he says 'yes, sir.' Twelve men of Easy, Easy Smile included, march off to take part in the war.
Twelve men. He balances the odds and is ready when word comes down to gather a handful of Dog Company to assist in the taking of the guns of Brecourt.
Twelve Easy. Five Dog. A Fucking Sight More Than Us Germans.
He balances the odds, but doesn't think about it long. Preoccupied with being dead while living. Preoccupied with casting no shadow. Preoccupied with being who this war needed him to be.
He sprints. He kills. His P.O.W. trigger-finger is still warm. It's even more simple to be ruthless with an armed enemy. Dog has three men killed and two wounded. None are himself. He's standing alone, helmet-less, behind the 105 when Easy's Gentle-Determined noncom shows up with the demolition kit. He feels a funny pinprick of surprise to see him still alive. Wasn't in the odds. Then again, neither is himself.
They blow it. Pull back.
He thinks of Easy. He thinks of Winters and asks the question once back at the C.P. Toccoa officers had familiarity with each other. He's never been shy.
He thinks he's sure the question doesn't matter. He damn well asks anyway.
Afterwards, he sees him a fourth time and is able to think, Lipton. And that is all.
**
Only after Carentan is taken he realizes he can still feel disappointment. If he hadn't learned his name, he wouldn't have noticed his absence.
When he makes it by the aid station to take stock of Dog's condition he hears the Cajun boy fussing. It's only then he realizes he can feel as much relief as he can disappointment; that he feels either makes him very wary.
On the outskirts of Carentan he shifts in the shadows that aren't his, makes friends with the dark. It's a friend worth having, even with all the bayonet-happy privates about. The Cajun boy gives him a look of tempered anger when he requests that Talbert be quiet, stabbed or not. If not quiet, then removed. Immediately.
He doesn't feel guilty, but he takes note of the look because Lipton had made the same expression come across that particular medic's face.
**
When he runs across Lipton again, he can see Carentan on his skin, beneath his right eye. Etched in permanently. Darker than the pale of his face from the cold and the snow. The scar doesn't look tender, but, then again, neither does Lipton anymore.
He smiles at Lipton. Or, tries to. He forgets what it's supposed to feel like on his face when he means it.
He smiles at Lipton and Lipton smiles back when they pass each other in the white whiteness of Bastogne and he thinks, damn good soldier, that one and not Lipton.
**
Lipton stays with Easy and some of Easy stays in the Bois Jacques. But not Lipton.
He thinks it's funny when none of the Easy men he comes across takes a smoke from him, but he doesn't laugh. He thinks about Lipton's smile and wonders if he smokes. When he hears the artillery whistling and shattering and his back is to the icy-dark ground of the inside of his foxhole he thinks, if he doesn't after this, he never will.
Later, as they are taking Foy, he thinks of Dike, he'll get them all killed. He stands near the tree-line in reserve and stonily watches this nearly come to pass.
Nearly.
Winters calls him front and center; he doesn't hesitate. Under order, he goes. He goes to Lipton. Those brown eyes project relief. He takes the situation into hand.
He finds himself commanding Easy. In commanding Easy he finds himself.
When he runs across the length of German lines under the pelleting of gunfire and the vibration of artillery he wonders about what those dark eyes look like on his back. It's an odd thing to be thinking about and he knows it. Notes it.
He decides, after meeting up with Item Company who have been cut off on the other side of town, to go back and check.
Lipton grins. A lot. And it's muzzle-flashes in the dark.
After careful deliberation he thinks, worth it.
**
After Foy there's Noville and there's talk and he learns the nickname 'Lip.' Battlefield Commission to be given. Hell of a soldier. Has been holding Easy on their feet. An encouraging word for each man. Hell of a soldier.
In Rachamps he tells Lipton he wants to ask. Ask about the infamous rumors that go hand-in-hand when his name is brought up without his presence. Lipton tells him none of that really matters. Tells him Easy's been waiting on him since Winters. He tells Lipton that Easy's had Lipton since Winters. It evens out.
When he leaves the convent he thinks, I'll be seeing a lot of Carwood. He's surprisingly pleased with this idea. It makes him mentally more wary than before.
It can't be helped though. Rumors don't seem to effect Lipton because when he offers a smoke, Lip takes it. Smiles and takes it. What can he do with that?
He confuses himself by smiling back with more ease than before. Like killing, it becomes easier with practice.
**
In Haguenau he sees Lipton all dark-eyed with his chin tilted to his chest and thinks about how pale he is. How he shakes. He pitches his frustration with gestures and furrowed brow and sharp voice because Carwood is fucking stubborn. He makes Lipton take the single bed in the room they share. He takes the floor. Lip coughs and sweats and in the dark he tells him, 'your dying won't do.'
In the morning, the medic is talking about miracles and he thinks, nope, Carwood just knows how to follow an order.
He's so thrilled with the recovery he lets spill about the official nod of promotion that should be coming in any time now.
When it does and when Lipton shakes his hand after Nixon and Winters' he thinks, strong grip. He chases Lipton into the frosty air to share a smoke with his newly minted Second Lieutenant. Shares a smoke and a grin and thinks, this isn't half bad.
With Lipton there are no rumors and there are shadows on the ground. One looks like his own. He's not sure how to feel about this at first.
Knows he shouldn't be feeling anything at all.
**
But in Saverne Lip also shares his disdain for combat drilling while in reserve and his mixed disappointment-elation for having to send a good soldier home on a drawing for States rotation. He decides he's earned the right to feel a sense of friendship. He has a comrade in Easy. He's done more dangerous things than confide.
They move from Saverne to Mourmelon. There are furloughs in Mourmelon.
In England, he says 'I do' to a young widow who is having his child. It's a quiet, unspectacular ceremony. When he kisses her she smiles and he thinks, Carwood's done this.
When he's back among Easy he wears his ring on his dogtag chain. Out of sight, out of mind. He's going to be a father soon.
When he's back Lipton smiles at him, asks about England. He smiles (practice makes perfect) and his new ring itches against his chest and he thinks, Lip wears his on his finger.
It should be nothing to share the news. To confide. But in the morning light Lipton's shadow mingles with his own so he just says 'fine.'
**
In Germany he gets light fingers with his baby boy in mind. Lipton doesn't judge. He likes that. Lip also doesn't ask. He dislikes that a little more than he knows he's entitled to. He thinks, I want to come clean.
He plays cards instead. Nixon gets drunk, Welsh gets drunker-- as his alcoholic pallet isn't as picky. It's just him and Lipton at the table in the end and Lipton smiling with every good hand he has. Which is one good hand too many. He likes that Lip makes him work for it. Likes that Lip has a good poker face even if those brown eyes tell everything and he's throwing hands like a crazy man. They smoke and Lip laughs with delight and he thinks, I wouldn't mind losing every hand. Legitimately or not.
It should be scarier than accurate gunfire.
It isn't. And he has three Purple Hearts.
**
In the Eagle's Nest he fucks up. He's drunk. It's Nixon's fault. Mostly. He's sit-swaying at Nixon's feet when he sees Lipton. He says, 'Lieutenant Lipton' with something like welcoming in his voice. Like Winters isn't making an announcement.
The German army surrenders. Just like that. The fight with Germany: over.
Winters steals Nixon to gift him with a victory present and he watches the way Nix follows after Dick readily and thinks, I wonder. But he's drunk so it doesn't matter. What matters is Lipton hugs Welsh. Who is so delighted by the news that he has to make post-haste to the A.P.O.
That leaves him next. Stand-swaying. Lipton smiles (flares in the dark) and his arms go around those shoulders first. He smells the clean-ness of the man and, more importantly, he feels the indrawn breath that Lipton gives.
Drunken, he hugs too tight.
After a moment, one of Lipton's hands slide to the small of his back and he thinks, that's invitation enough.
He does it because he's drunk. Because the German army has thrown in the towel. Because Lipton is warm and feels good in his embrace.
When he pushes Lipton up against the sun-warmed brick he accidentally kicks over a half-full bottle of champagne. He sees their shadows, cramped and close beside them, almost one.
Lip gasps, but it's good. Too good. He thinks, far, far too good.
Lipton kisses like his first impression of him; gentle.
He kisses his first lieutenant like he didn't kiss his wife. Lipton makes his hands tremble.
Lipton says, 'I'm married.' After only a heartbeat, 'sir.' It makes him flinch. Lipton's eyes are wide and wet and he comes clean. Finally. It's not the relief he wants it to be. It changes Carwood's look of regret into a look of sympathy. He doesn't know which he hates more. He doesn't like the way Lipton says 'congratulations.'
Later, that champagne burns like a bullet wound coming up.
Which is why he gives the order not to overdo the damn drinking.
**
Not that it saves Grant from a bullet to the brain in Austria. Not that it keeps his hands from shaking when he's staring down the culprit all icy-eyed and tight-lipped and his sidearm is out. He thinks, he's gonna live, he's gonna live, Grant will live and doesn't fire.
His hands have never shook when they bore a weapon before. He thinks he should see Lipton about it. Demand he undo his damage. He doesn't.
He holes up on a balcony and considers getting drunk again. Instead, Lipton finds him as he leans against the railing, white-knuckled. He says nothing. Lip seems to decide breaking the silence isn't necessary but he does step up and place a warm hand on his shoulder.
Lipton draws him away from the balcony. And he goes.
Without protest, without comment he lets Lipton lead. Because Lipton knows how.
In the dark of Carwood's bedroom his hands shake again. Lipton kisses his knuckles, his palms. Lip knows about the shooting done and the shooting not done. He thinks it makes the trembling okay.
They touch scars and finger-fist hair. He thinks maybe if he hadn't been drunk the first time he tasted that mouth...
In the morning he sees Lipton's wedding ring on the night table. Quietly he compares their bands. It's a close fit, but it works. He exchanges them as Carwood sleeps. Tucking the worn band inside his shirt and leaving the newer behind.
He dresses and leaves for the C.P. He thinks, he'll never notice.
There's talk about redeployment to the Pacific. Talk of war. It ends up being just that; talk. Major Winters interrupts a company baseball game to confirm as much.
The war is over. He stares at his shadow on the ground next to the jeep.
There's laughing. Chasing. He stays put. Watches.
When the men disperse, he sees Lipton laughing. Later he's got that image in his head and he touches at the ring tucked between two dogtags and hidden beneath his undershirt.
And Speirs thinks, mine.
-End-