Debut
Nix sprawls in the passenger seat, carelessly elegant, as I drive us to our intended destination, the jeep zipping smartly along. "What is this place?" Nix asks as we get out and head over to the door of the partially demolished home
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To the island's credit, while the supply of proper cigarettes is woefully low, the supply of quality alcohol is high, at least if you're Lew, or friends with Lew, which Buck inexplicably happens to be. Lew still doesn't know how that happened; he used to hate that jock bastard, and now they're thick as thieves, sharing booze and stories and women. Or, nearly.
It's still funny to Lew, how when they walk together, they instinctively fall into step. He doesn't even realise it until it's already happened, and as much as he'd like to curse the United States Army, he has to admit there's something distinctly comforting about it.
They're walking together now, in perfect cadence through the jungle and across the clearing, and Lew swears he hears his name in a familiar voice, but shakes it off. Because the island, it fucks with people, and he knows this as well as anyone, is reminded every time he goes to breakfast at Cain's place and sits across the table from Charlie Crews, who looks like Dick and talks like Dick but isn't.
They've nearly reached the house (Beginnings of the house, anyway) when it happens. A familiar red head emerges from the vicinity of the cellar, and Lew hasn't taken the time to look at the uniform, so he doesn't know how, but he knows. He knows that carefully-combed hair and calm alertness. He knows the set of that mouth and he swears he even knows every, single freckle across those cheeks. He knows this is isn't some look-alike, some island game, and it hits him square in chest, knocks the breath clean out of him. He pauses, stumbles forward a step, and then falls back to land right on his ass in the grass, where he stays, wide-eyed like a child and afraid to blink.
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Hell. I'm just glad Nix is here for Dick and vice-versa. Not that I haven't enjoyed Nix's company or anything, but you get the feeling when you're just being a replacement for someone else (and, I think with a mild pang of guilt, I have to wonder if that's what Babe's feeling lately). "Well, shit," I announce with a laugh, wandering over to clap Dick on the shoulder. "Look what we found, Nix." If Nix can bother to get up from off his ass, which has me mildly concerned but hell, different strokes for folks and whatever people say now.
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I give Buck a confused quirk of the lips and return the gesture, and I'm about to ask him what in the world's going on when Nix falls. It's stupid, I know, since we're not in active combat and I know it's just a flashback, but my heart suddenly seizes up in my chest and it's like Market Garden all over again. Hearing that ricochet, turning to see my best friend in the world knocked backwards onto the ground, seeming to fall in slow motion. A split second, a flash of memory, and then I'm moving.
"Nix!" I call as I jog over to where he's sitting in the grass, dropping to a crouch once I reach him. "Are you all right?" I ask, one hand going to his shoulder.
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For one petulant fraction of a second he wants to shove Dick off, but luckily catches himself before he can prove to be a complete ass. A smile spreads slowly across his face instead, and he laughs.
"It took you fucking long enough," he chastises, still marveling.
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"I missed you too, Buck, but when did you get back from the hospital?" I say, puzzled expression on my face as I glance slowly between the two of them. "And you," I continue, my gaze settling on Nix, "I just saw. Just now, marveling over Goering's alcohol selection. Took me long enough to do what?"
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"Tabula Rasa's what they call it. It's an island, and we don't know how we got here or why. The good news is food's free, the weather's fantastic, there are a multitude of gorgeous, scantily-clad women from the future."
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"Oh, I don't know about that, Buck," I say, turning to meet his eyes, because Buck's a damn good leader, and I would have replaced the incompetent Dike with him if I'd had the chance. "So we're stuck on this island, and we don't know why, and some of the men are here but not all," I continue, trying to assess the situation at hand. The idea of gorgeous women sounds nice, sure, but that's not my primary concern right now.
"And we have no contact with anyone? Anyone from battalion, or regiment? Is George here with the radio?"
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Not the other way around.
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"How long have you two been here?" I say, because even though I feel a little crazy asking it seems like an important question, and a relevant one, given what they've been telling me.
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"Over two months," he finally answers, then quietly mumbles "missed you" before he pulls away again.
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Buck's voice snaps me out of my worried contemplation, and I place a solid hand to his shoulder, giving him a ghost of a smile. "What about you, Buck? About the same amount of time as Nix here?" I blow out a breath. "Two months - that seems hard to believe."
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Maybe hate is a strong word, but it was close to that.
"Oh, Buck, you know I love you, too," Lew quips, and steps over to pull him into an exaggerated embrace, complete with kissy-face. "I couldn't ever replace you, baby."
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