not paris

[easyco_soldier]

May 1945.

Zell am See, Austria.

«So it’s an Airborne exhibition. They have one of every allied combat plane that got used in the war. You’d be like a technical advisor, make sure they get everything right.»

Paris. Don Malarkey remembered another time when he had dreamed of Paris. Seemed like ages ago, now, didn’t it? In reality, it had

Comments

[peeweemartin]

These days, Johnny started pretty much every morning by talking a walk along the beach; it still felt too new to have the chance to actually do this than letting it slide.

On this particular morning, he felt more than just a little glad about taking this walk; when he rounded a corner, he spotted somebody who - and this was something Johnny could've seen from miles away - was wearing the unmistakable uniform of a paratrooper. Bloused pants, the patch of the "screaming eagle", hell, even the way the man stood looked familiar to him.

Before the rest of his body had really processed it, Johnny started running towards the man, hollering loudly. "Malarkey!? Malark, is that you?"

[easyco_soldier]

It was a dream. Yep, that was the only explanation, bacause when Don looked back, the car was gone. He was standing, in full dress uniform, alone, on what looked like a tropical beach.

Alone?

"Malarkey!? Malark, is that you?"

Was that... Johnny Martin? What the hell was he doing in his dream? Not that he didn't like Johnny, or that he didn't consider him his friend, far from that! Don just would have expected... someone else.

He turned his head where the voice came from, to face the man running to him.

"Johnny? What... what the hell is this?" Where are we? Why are you here? Why am I here?

[peeweemartin]

Stopping short in front of Malarkey, Johnny realized that this must've been the exact expression he'd been wearing when he'd arrived on this island-- surprise, utter confusion and just a little hint of an offended look, "Why am I here?"

Clapping his friend on the back, Johnny gave him a broad smile. "This? This is The Island. I dunno how t'ah explain it t'ah ya, but this..." He found himself at a loss of words. What exactly was this to him? Home?

But before he could think about it any further, he felt himself overwhelmed with fresh excitement. "Where exactly'd ya come from? I was in Austria when I landed here!"

[easyco_soldier]

Don was extremely confused - if this is a dream, why does it feel so real?

He was dizzy. The sun was hitting his head and getting in his eyes. His uniform was already damp and disgusting.

But Johnny was smiling at him, almost excited, of all things!

"The Island? We're on an island? But... how did I get here? I mean, I was in a car..." he trailed off. The car was gone, there was no trace of it, along his his pack and all of his belongings. What the fuck is going on?

"What do you mean, where? I was going to Paris, you know that. And of course I know you are... were in Austria, I saw you just yesterday!"

[fourforone]

After the blizzard, Buck's been feeling anything but steady on his feet. Every flash he sees of a familiar face makes him feel guilty and ashamed, like he should be stronger in the face of dire times. Bastogne's going to rest heavy on him his whole life, but he has to learn how to go on. Seeing Don Malarkey's face so soon after, it feels as if this isn't a coincidence.

Or maybe it is. Maybe fate's ready to screw with him again. He watches the other man just long enough to see that it really is him before approaching and coming to a severe halt before he can launch into a desperate embrace of the other man of relief and 'thank god you're here' and it's all too much for him to process, so Buck shoves it deep down and manages a rueful smile. "Fancy seeing you here," is all he gets out, though it's not what he'd intended to say at first.

[easyco_soldier]

The last time Don saw Buck Compton, the man was being taken off the line for -

What was the excuse again? Trenchfoot?

Don didn't blame Buck for it - he never did. Never thought any less of the man for what happened.

God. He even envied him for it, sometimes. He felt ashamed, remembering his friend’s pale face and red-rimmed eyes. But these hours? days? in that foxhole, holding the Luger, he wished that he, too, could just give up. Break. Maybe even forget.

But it wasn’t that easy, was it? It never was.

"Hey, Buck," he managed a smile. Buck looked better than the last time he’d seen him, at least. He was glad. "Haven’t seen you in a while! How are you? And… do you know where we are? "

Somehow, he had the feeling that whatever this place was, Buck had been there for a while already.

[fourforone]

Buck's still not sure this is actually real, but he's about to cry or laugh or something in between, and all he's got is this strangled sound of incredulous disbelief that he's seeing Don Malarkey in the flesh. He ends up grinning instead, clapping Mal on the shoulder and giving him something of a shake. "Goddammit, about time you showed up," he says, voice rough. "I'm real sorry you have to be here, but as long as I'm stuck here, I need my best friend, don't know how I was doing it without you."

"Welcome to paradise, Mal," Buck offers apologetically. "One-way ticket, no way out."

[easyco_soldier]

Of course, Don was incredibly happy to see Buck, happy to see his friend seemed to be fine. He missed him a lot, especially during those weeks in January. He doesn’t blame Buck, but he wondered if it would have been easier to have to strong, confident Buck by his side during his roughest time.

But the past was the past. Can’t change it, and Don didn’t want to think too much about it. Buck was grinning, he was alive and appeared to be well, and Don found himself grinning back.

"Well, I wouldn’t have left you all alone by yourself on this tropical island, right? What are you sorry for? The pretty exotic girls not treating you right?"

His grin dropped and his stomach clenched with Buck next words. Paradise? One-way ticket?

Oh. Well, that explains a lot…

"Oh shit, Buck," he said, voice chocked. "Really? I…"

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t care about himself, his own life, not anymore. But Buck? This can’t be happening!

"I… didn’t know. What- what happened?"

He thought Buck was safe, off the line! This can’t be happening.He

[realnicetrip]

"Aw, Jesus, not another one."

Harry clapped his palm to his forehead and sighed. The island messed around with everybody without apparent rhyme or reason, but it really did seem to have something in for the company in particular. As for this newcomer, he'd have recognised him a mile off by the hair alone. Oh well. A nice island holiday might be just what that particular poor bastard needed.

"Sergeant Malarkey," Harry called, cupping his hand around his mouth and quickening his pace. "Welcome to the island."

[easyco_soldier]

Huh. Was that Harry Welsh, walking towards him? Don would have recognized the man anywhere, even though he didn't exaclt expect him to show up like that in this... dream? Hallucination?

"Lieutenant Welsh," he called back. "You're here too?"

[realnicetrip]

"Half the goddamn company's here," Harry said. "Winters, Nixon, Buck Compton, Lipton, and that's just the officers. I don't know what it is, really, though it's nice to have the company. Not that you'll be short of that, this place is pretty busy."

He turned, sweeping a hand to sort of take in the general area.

"There's a whole lot of houses and huts further up, which've got pretty much everything you'll need. Food, spare clothing, washing facilities, that kinda thing. Not much in the way of luxuries, but hey, we're used to that. It's not a bad place if you don't mind how crazy it is."

[easyco_soldier]

"Yeah, I've seen Buck already," Don chuckled. "At least it's not lonely, right?"

He shouldn't expect Skip. He really shouldn't - he didn't know if he could deal with it. He was dealing, finally - he knew he was. But time here didn't seem to work quite the same way as it was supposed to. What if..?

He shook his head. No. No.

Willing himself away from that train of thought, Don nodded as Harry described the area. "Seems like we're expected to stay for a while... How long have you been here?"

[whiskytango_rto]

The uniform will always be familiar to him, he thinks, his first day on the island a blur of sleep deprivation, gun-toting six year olds, and Marissa in her yellow fuck-me boots. He hasn't met many of them personally, but he knows this guy is at least two things: brand-spanking-new to their tropical paradise, and another fucking paratrooper.

Ray approaches with one hand up in a wave and the other held loosely at his side, obviously empty, head down and eyes squinting against the sun and the part where he might have to explain this shit to somebody. He's still waiting for the island to shake him inside out and take on the air of cruelty some people assign it, but when he keeps seeing guys pulled off the line for some well deserved R-and-fucking-R, he's pretty sure it's all a matter of perspective. "Hey there man, any chance I'm not the first person you've seen around here?"

[easyco_soldier]

Don didn't know the man who greeted him - big eyes, dark hair... he would have recognized any Easy Company guys from their shadow alone, but this guy wasn't one.

"Hum, sorry?" Not the best of greetings, but he was still a bit disorientated from, well, everything. Don was usually a friendly guy, made new friends easily, but right now it all was a bit too much for him.

[whiskytango_rto]

"No chance then," Ray decides, not really giving the guy his best smile, but trying. "Not a problem though, I'm sure there's some fuck worse than me at explaining shit to people. You're on an island, hence the...fucking beach and ocean to your left," he explains, gesturing at the waves.

"You might want to take off the jacket and sit down, I'm about to get to the part where the island is magic."

[easyco_soldier]

Don frowned at the guy. "Yeah, I know I'm on a island. I got that, thanks. Doesn't really help me knowing exactly where I am."

Wait. Wait just one minute. Magic?

Don laughed. "What, magic? You mean like witches and monsters and shit?"

He'd seen a lot of things in the war he would never have believed if he hadn't been there, but magic?

That guy was nuts.

[spirited_hero]

[easyco_soldier]

There was a weird guy coming towards Don. Blond, big tattoo on his face.

"Hello?" he called hesitantly before the guy could get to close. "Who're you?"

[spirited_hero]

[easyco_soldier]

Don still wasn't sure the man could be trusted. Really, that tattoo? He'd never seen anything like it.

Still, he could at least try being friendly. He held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Don Malarkey. From Easy Company, yes." He frowned. "You from around here?"