Sonya knew what day it was. You don't grow up in a military family, then go to the military academy and the army and not know the date of D-Day.
Growing up, she remembered seeing the cemeteries where they buried the soldiers, the beaches where they jumped off in the middle of a battle torn hell. At the time, at that young age, she remembered not fully grasping just what those symbols meant to her father and grandfather. Not until she became an officer did she understand.
It was on her way back to the compound, seeing Joe on the steps, she didn't need telepathy to know what he was thinking. She just slowly walked over, kneeling next to him and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
He could really do with a cigarette right now. There's still this residual sickness in his stomach. It's not a million miles from how waiting to jump had felt.
"Sort of." Joe smokes in silence and then he glances over at her. "Today's D-Day plus 365, Son. Three six five. We made it a year. Don't think anyone was expecting that. Least of all us."
Sonya absently waved a hand. "In light of all the shit I've seen, this hits the list of most 'normal' sort of weird there is."
She laughed. "Right around becoming buds with an actual World War II vet around my age."..She thought a moment. "Which is slightly more fucking weird."
It was more welcome than meeting a thousand year old sorcerer who didn't take the answer 'no' very lightly.
"I oughta be...what...an real old fella by the time you're around. Probably in my grave, right? Unless somethin' got me in Austria." Something had gotten Chuck, after all.
"You'd be amazed how long people are living nowadays."
"You would've lived." Even though she knew such thing was likely, she didn't want to think of him dying in the war. Not him too. "You would've made it till the end of the war, get hitched, raise a large family and grow old enough to spoil your grandkids to the annoyance of their parents."
She said this with a smile, thinking that he deserved a peaceful life after what he's been through.
"I know." She mimicked his gesture, running a hand through her blonde hair, brushing her bangs out from her ponytail. The memories of the men in her platoon that were killed in action, practically flashed in her mind. She tried to force back the nausea and tears.
"It's always the same, doesn't matter the decade." She forced her voice to become the neutral tone of the army lieutenant, a shield over her emotions.
Even in front of someone like a brother-who was a brother-to her, she couldn't show weakness without putting up a fight.
Growing up, she remembered seeing the cemeteries where they buried the soldiers, the beaches where they jumped off in the middle of a battle torn hell. At the time, at that young age, she remembered not fully grasping just what those symbols meant to her father and grandfather. Not until she became an officer did she understand.
It was on her way back to the compound, seeing Joe on the steps, she didn't need telepathy to know what he was thinking. She just slowly walked over, kneeling next to him and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
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"Hey there, Son," he says.
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"Hey, Joe." She smiles back, the nickname he gave her showing that he's still 'Joe' and that's always a good sign.
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He could really do with a cigarette right now. There's still this residual sickness in his stomach. It's not a million miles from how waiting to jump had felt.
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"Go right on ahead." They're outdoors, in the fresh air, the sunlight, not an in an enclosed area where the only light source is a cigarette.
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"Thanks. I kind of fucking need one."
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"Thinking about the war?" It was a guess on her part.
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She smiled. "And yeah, you all made it. Not sure if anyone was expecting it, but I can tell you that they're glad you all made it."
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He smiles at her and shakes his head, holding his cigarette in one hand and rubbing the other across his face.
"It's weird, Son. It's really fucking weird."
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She laughed. "Right around becoming buds with an actual World War II vet around my age."..She thought a moment. "Which is slightly more fucking weird."
It was more welcome than meeting a thousand year old sorcerer who didn't take the answer 'no' very lightly.
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"I oughta be...what...an real old fella by the time you're around. Probably in my grave, right? Unless somethin' got me in Austria." Something had gotten Chuck, after all.
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"You would've lived." Even though she knew such thing was likely, she didn't want to think of him dying in the war. Not him too. "You would've made it till the end of the war, get hitched, raise a large family and grow old enough to spoil your grandkids to the annoyance of their parents."
She said this with a smile, thinking that he deserved a peaceful life after what he's been through.
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"It's always the same, doesn't matter the decade." She forced her voice to become the neutral tone of the army lieutenant, a shield over her emotions.
Even in front of someone like a brother-who was a brother-to her, she couldn't show weakness without putting up a fight.
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"It wouldn't be war if everybody came home."
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