#margo writes

“When do you leave?” Eugene asked.

“I’m on the 6am train to Atlanta,” Sid replied.

Eugene felt his stomach drop at the words, despite knowing for weeks that this day would be coming. He knew that Sid would be leaving him for an indefinite amount of time, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to join him. In less than 24 hours, Sid would be gone, and Eugene couldn’t help but feel the abandonment starting to creep in.

There was the irrational fear that Sid would forget Eugene and all the time they’d spent together in Mobile. Sid would meet new people, become closer to them, and have new experiences that Eugene could never relate to. It was for this reason that Eugene remembered the book in his pocket, which he took out and handed over to Sid.

“Uh, here. Got you somethin’,” Eugene said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as forlorn as he felt.

Sid took the book gently, and Eugene's breath caught in his throat for a moment when Sid’s fingers gingerly brushed against his own. Sid turned the book over in his hands. “Barrack-Room Ballads by Rudyard Kipling. Thank you, Gene, but I didn’t—”

Eugene shrugged and quickly explained, “It’s just if you need somethin’ to read on the train, or when you ship out.” It’s something for you to remember me by, Eugene couldn’t help but think.

“I wish we were going together,” Sid said.

The words were like a sucker punch to Eugene’s gut. Eugene had been plenty vocal about his frustrations that he couldn’t join Sid in the Marines, but this was the first time that Sid acknowledged that he held similar sentiments.

“Yeah, well,” Eugene started, then had to pause to swallow the lump in his throat. “You take care of yourself, greaser.”

Sid gave him an easy smile. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Of course I do, Eugene thought immediately. He didn’t reply out loud, though, and instead he simply took a long look at his best friend, wishing that they had more time together.

There was a sudden, manic part of Eugene’s brain that wanted to tackle Sid to the ground and keep him there until Eugene could leave with him, too. He didn’t want to stay in Mobile without Sid, and he didn’t want Sid to ship out without him. Eugene just wanted to have one more day with Sid, just one, even though he knew that if he got all the time in the world with Sid, it would still never be enough.

Sid broke their gaze first, grabbing his bike and continuing to walk through the field. This broke Eugene out of his trance, and he shook his head at himself, chastising himself for his selfishness.

As he took a step to follow Sid, he noticed a distant, contemplative look on Sid’s face. Before he could ask if everything was alright, there was a shuffling in the tall grass up ahead that caught Eugene’s attention, and Eugene blinked a few times to make out what he was seeing.

Eugene quickly caught up to Sid and pointed ahead. “Do you see that?”

Sid followed Eugene’s gaze and squinted into the distance. “See what?”

“It looks like a…” Eugene could finally make it out now—it had a massive body compared to its long, skinny neck. It was completely white except for its dark, beady eyes blending into its black bill. “...like a huge swan or somethin’.” 

The swan stared at Eugene with its bill pointed downwards, and the contrasting black on its face resembled a mysterious mask. It was as if the swan were looking down its nose in judgement at him, as if it were reading all of Eugene’s selfish thoughts.

“A swan?” Sid exclaimed, squinting his eyes even more as he tried to look in the exact direction Eugene was looking.

“Right there, by that bush! Don’t you see it?” Eugene took his eyes off of the swan, looked to make sure Sid was looking in the right direction, and then he turned back to the swan again.

Except, when he went to look for it again, it was gone.

“I swear it was right there,” Eugene said, dumbfounded. “It must’ve flown away.”

Sid gave Eugene a confused look. “I’ve never seen a swan in Mobile before.”

“Neither have I,” Eugene replied. “I would’ve been huntin’ them if I ever saw ‘em.”

“Me too,” Sid said, then looked out at the sun low in the western horizon. “I told my parents I’d be back by sundown.”

Eugene nodded, happy for the change in conversation, wondering if his eyes and mind had just played a trick on him, if the swan was just an odd hallucination.

“I’ll walk you back,” Eugene offered, desperate to spend every last moment he could with Sid.

Luckily, Sid seemed to share the same sentiments. He gave Eugene a warm look and agreed, “I’d like that.”

And if Eugene purposefully walked more slowly on their journey back to Sid’s house, Sid didn’t mention it.

·༻𐫱༺·

Sid was dirty, weathered, and tired when he and Eugene reunited three years later on Pavuvu. But he was alive and bumping Eugene’s shoulder with his own on every other step, and for the time being, that’s all Eugene cared about.

Eugene tried to ignore that persistent, faraway look on Sid’s face, how he held his body with such tension, how he looked like he aged ten years rather than the few that it had been. When Eugene asked about what the frontlines of war were like, it only seemed to make Sid grow more distant, his answer vague, his mind drifting off somewhere Eugene couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Eugene quietly watched Sid toss rock after rock into the ocean. The sun made everything about Sid glow golden—his messy blonde hair, the stubble on his face and neck, even his tanned skin despite being covered in dirt and grime. 

Eugene’s eyes drifted down toward Sid’s open shirt, his eyes following the trail of hair from the top of his chest down below his belly button. He dropped his eyes in shame when he realized his eyes had drifted.

Eugene stared vacantly at the sand below, and then eventually blurted out, “I’m gonna miss you, Sid.”

Sid blinked out at the ocean and stopped chucking the rocks, instead rolling them around in his palm. He began to turn toward Eugene but then stopped, didn’t even completely look at Eugene as he replied, “You’ll be all right.”

Eugene continued staring at Sid, hoping that Sid would just turn a bit more towards him, just so Eugene could get a proper look at his best friend’s face again, just so he could have some extra reassurance that Sid actually believed what he just told Eugene.

But Sid didn’t turn toward him, instead keeping his eyes fixed on the water.

It felt like a physical exertion for Eugene to take his eyes off of Sid, but he did, and he followed Sid’s gaze out to the expanse of water. 

Immediately, Eugene spotted a big, white swan with a black bill floating atop the calm waves, about fifty meters out from the shore. Eugene just barely managed to suppress a surprised gasp. It looked exactly like the swan he had seen years ago with Sid in Mobile. Its bill was pointed downwards again, staring at Eugene as if it knew all of his deepest, most intimate thoughts.

“I didn’t know swans were out here,” Eugene said quietly.

Sid chucked another rock into the water and said distractedly, “Hm?”

Eugene looked between Sid and the swan, but this time, when Eugene looked back to the ocean, the swan was still there, not suddenly disappearing like the one in Mobile. Eugene remembered how Sid didn’t see the swan in Mobile either, so he dropped it. 

“Nothin’,” he replied.

Eugene couldn’t help but feel threatened by this swan, as if it were a sign from God, trying to tell Eugene something. What that something was, Eugene didn’t know. The swan seemed angry, shifting its head from side to side, switching its gaze from eye to eye as if it were shaking its head at Eugene, trying to chastise him for something.

Eugene looked down and began tracing patterns in the sand with his finger. He tried not to think about the growing ache in his chest over the fact that his best friend was leaving so soon after Eugene just got him back.

Sid stopped throwing the rocks out into the ocean, but he stayed at the shore. The calm waves lapped at his feet, not that he seemed to notice or mind. His gaze remained off of Eugene, and Eugene tried to convince himself that it didn’t hurt as much as it did.

When they finally decided to head back inland to rejoin their companies, Eugene spared one last glance out at the ocean. He spotted the white swan still floating, this time even further out from the shore. He shook off the eerie feeling of the swan’s presence, turned away from the water, and followed Sid.

·༻𐫱༺·

Less than twenty four hours later, Eugene stood on the dusty shores of Pavuvu and watched as the boat took Sid away, back home to Mobile. The sting in Eugene’s eyes was immediate. The sun was beating down, his skin was uncomfortably sticky with sweat, and for a brief, hysterical moment, he wondered how he could get the boat to turn around. Whether to get Sid back on Pavuvu or to get himself on the boat, he didn’t know.

Had he not been so fixated on the ship that was taking Sid away, maybe he would have noticed the large, white-bodied, black-masked swan following in the ship’s wake.

He squeezed his eyes shut as they burned with hot tears, and then he tried his best to blink the tears away, knowing that this wasn’t the time nor place to break down. As he turned away from the shore, he found Ack Ack approaching him, eyeing him softly.

“He’ll be alright,” Ack Ack said.

Eugene nodded. There was a moment where he had trouble looking directly into Ack Ack’s eyes, fearing that his feelings were written all over his face, that Ack Ack could see right through him. When he did finally meet the Captain’s gaze, Eugene found nothing but understanding and a slight curiosity.

“C’mon,” Ack Ack said and gestured back towards their company. “Almost time for chow.”

Eugene couldn't find it within himself to say anything, too afraid his voice might break. He instead fell into step with Ack Ack and they walked back in silence. Eugene kept his head down to hide whatever grief-striken expression he was sure was on his face, grateful that the skipper didn’t bring Sid up again.

Ack Ack left Eugene’s side once they got back to the barracks, and Eugene took a moment to compose himself. With a deep breath, he recentered his thoughts, reminding himself of the reason why he was in the Pacific in the first place.

He spotted Burgin and the rest of K Company and began heading toward them, but just as he took a step in their direction, something at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to see Ack Ack and Hillbilly standing close, with Hillbilly leaning in to whisper something in Ack Ack’s ear. Ack Ack had a small smile on his face, and he had one hand gripping Hillbilly’s bicep as he listened. 

Eugene couldn’t help but feel like he was watching a private moment—well, as private as one could get on Pavuvu—but it wasn’t only the two standing close together that held his interest. It was the two birds fluttering a few feet above their heads that had Eugene entranced, confused. They were tan-colored birds with spotted, tapered tails, and Eugene swore that he could hear them cooing softly.

Ack Ack began to laugh at whatever Hillbilly was saying, and then the skipper’s eyes darted over to Eugene as if sensing his stare. Eugene quickly turned away, face burning red, and he made his way over to Burgin.

“There’s a lot of birds on this island, huh?” Eugene said as he settled onto the bench next to them.

Burgin gave Eugene a confused look. “Birds?”

“Yeah, I saw a swan out on the water yesterday, and just now some doves were flyin’ around.”

“I ain’t never seen swans or doves here,” Snafu said.

“Neither have I,” Burgin agreed. “Seen some ducks, I guess. Mostly land crabs and rats, though.”

“Huh,” Eugene said. He shook his head, wondering why his mind decided to start playing tricks on him now, making him see odd types of birds that had no business in the Pacific. He brushed it off as nerves and focused on his chow, letting his fellow marines take the conversation into a different direction, letting his mind drift further away from the rogue birds, away from Sid.

·༻𐫱༺·

War in the Pacific was hell, neverending. Eugene was getting to know fear and filth far too well. It felt like years and years of fighting, despite the ticks in Eugene’s bible showing that it had barely been a month. By this point, Eugene completely understood why Sid seemed so much older when they reunited on Pavuvu. 

K Company was taking a short rest now on the US airfield on Peleliu, and Burgin was sitting next to Eugene. Burgin bumped their shoulders together, once gently, then again, insistent. Eugene turned to him and found that he was holding a lighter up to Eugene’s face. Eugene hadn’t even noticed when he had put a cigarette in his own mouth, but there was an unlit one resting between his lips, so Eugene leaned into Burgin’s hand.

“Thanks,” Eugene said, taking a few deep puffs right away, one after the other.

Burgin hummed, and then slouched a bit more, leaning his head back to stare vacantly up at the puffs of cumulus clouds.

“K Company, listen up!” Ack Ack called out, squatting in front of the men, motioning that they could all stay sitting down. “We’re being rotated out for a few days. There’s a ship leaving at 1300 for Melbourne, make sure you’re on it.” It may have well been Christmas when Ack Ack announced this, and the relief in the company was immediate, tangible. 

Burgin clapped Eugene on the shoulder and exclaimed, “Maybe I’ll get to see Florence again. I bet we could find a broad for you, too, Sledgehammer.”

Eugene smiled the best he could muster and replied, “Hope so.” Burgin squeezed his shoulder tight before letting go and turning around to share more excitement with the other men.

Eugene watched the men of K Company lose some tension in their shoulders and smile in relief at each other. Though he was excited, he was more tired than anything. Mostly, he was just looking forward to sleeping on an actual bed.

As soon as they arrived in Melbourne, Burgin barely let Eugene sit down before he dragged him along to go out on the town, where their first stop was a bustling bar with a small stage.

Someone had scrounged up two tangled, comically unsightly wigs, and Burgin and Hillbilly had each been the first to put them on. Within minutes, with the encouragement of other marines and the bar staff, they were both on stage belting their hearts out to Waltzing Matilda. The marines and locals in the bar cheered and sang along. Even Ack Ack was watching with an amused smile on his face from where he leaned against a wall.

Eugene stood toward the back of the bar in the shadows, nursing a light beer, watching his company laugh and dance and sing. There was a fondness, a relief he felt for all the marines there tonight, that they were able to have this respite in the midst of war. 

He knew he should feel happy to be here, that he should be enjoying this moment to the fullest, but his mind wouldn’t stop wandering back to Sid.

Sid deserved every bit of Eugene’s happiness over the fact that he was home in Mobile and not waiting to be sent to the front lines at barely a moment’s notice, but Eugene couldn’t help but miss him. Eugene wished that somehow, he and Sid were together at that moment in Melbourne. 

“Nice to have a break, right, Sledgehammer?” Ack Ack said from beside Eugene. Eugene snapped his gaze to the captain’s and silently wondered how long Ack Ack had been standing next to him.

“Right,” Eugene replied, clearing his throat and attempting a smile that he hoped wasn’t coming out more like a grimace. Ack Ack clinked his beer against Eugene’s as a cheers, and they drank and watched in amusement as Burgin and Hillbilly sang off-key for the duration of the song. 

When Eugene looked over at Ack Ack again, he found a fond expression on his face, his eyes fixed on the stage, specifically on the right side, where Hillbilly was. Eugene looked between Hillbilly and Ack Ack a few times, noticing how they held each other’s gaze: familiar and warm.

“You miss him, huh?” Ack Ack asked Eugene once the song ended.

“Who, sir?” Eugene asked.

“Phillips.”

Eugene stiffened a bit, uncertain as to why Ack Ack was bringing Sid up now, but he managed to keep his voice steady when he replied, “Sure, I miss Sid.” He paused and stared into the bottom of his glass. “Better that he’s at home, though. Doesn’t have to worry about being shipped back out anytime soon.”

Ack Ack nodded, sipped at his beer, then said, “You two seemed pretty close.”

Eugene bristled even more and chanced a glance to the skipper. Just like on the shores of Pavuvu when Eugene watched Sid leave on the boat, Eugene found nothing but a soft kindness in Ack Ack’s eyes.

“We are, sir. He’s my oldest friend,” Eugene replied. 

“Mhm,” Ack Ack replied. He adjusted himself against the wall so that he was facing Eugene.

Eugene turned toward him as well, straightening his back from the slouch he had been in. Ack Ack had a serious, contemplative look on his face, and all Eugene could do was wait and try to ignore the pounding of his heart in his ears, wondering if he was about to get reprimanded for something. “Hillbilly and I have known each other for a while. You might consider us old friends, too.” Ack Ack paused, as if gauging Eugene’s reaction to his statement.

Eugene made unwavering eye contact with his captain, waiting for him to elaborate. Just as Ack Ack took a deep breath to say more, Burgin’s voice cut through their conversation.

“Who’s next?” Burgin called out. He put a hand over his eyes to block the bright stage light in his eyes, and Eugene’s eyes widened when Burgin spotted him immediately. “Sledgehammer, I think it’s your turn!”

“Oh, no, I don’t think—” Eugene started, but to his surprise, Ack Ack grabbed onto his elbow and started leading him toward the stage.

“C’mon, I’ll join you,” Ack Ack said.

The room erupted in cheers and excited hollering when they realized their captain was going up on stage as well. Ack Ack kept a tight grip on Eugene’s arm, as if he thought Eugene was going to bolt if he let go. Eugene couldn’t blame him.

Once they were close enough, Burgin and Hillbilly took off their wigs and haphazardly put them on Eugene and Ack Ack. 

“Lookin’ good, Eugene,” Burgin said, his face red from laughter and drunkenness.

Eugene shook his head but smiled back anyway, taking the microphone from him. “I’m gonna get you back for this some day, Burgie.”

Hillbilly took more time to adjust the wig that he had transferred to Ack Ack’s head. Once he was satisfied, he nodded at them both and said, “Give us a show, you two.”

Eugene stood awkwardly on the stage, unsure of what to do or how to start, already overheating and itchy from the wig. He tried not to think about the places the wig had been before being put on top of his head.

Luckily, Ack Ack took the lead, and he started singing lyrics that Eugene thankfully knew, though he couldn’t quite place where he knew the song from. He remembered that the original singer of the song had a melancholic, nostalgic, borderline haunting feeling to her songs.

“Money is the anthem of success, so before we go out, what’s your address?” Ack Ack began the song. If the room was already full of cheers, Ack Ack’s surprisingly good singing voice only caused them to whoop and shout even louder. He continued on, “I’m your national anthem, god you’re so handsome.”

The marines laughed and pretended to swoon when Ack Ack sang the line. It wasn’t until the chorus that Eugene felt confident enough in the lyrics to join in, and he and Ack Ack sang together, 

“Tell me I’m your national anthemRed white and blue is in the skySummer’s in the air, and baby, heaven’s in your eyesI’m your national anthem.”

Once Eugene sang the chorus with Ack Ack, he left the stage fright behind and he strutted around stage with his captain, smiling for the first time in what felt like years. Eugene didn’t miss how Ack Ack closed his eyes during the bridge and sang as if his life depended on it, and Eugene certainly didn’t miss how Hillbilly’s eyes were glued to Ack Ack throughout the entire performance, only sparing Eugene a glance every once in a while.

“On our drugs and our love and our dreams and our rageBlurring the lines between real and the fakeDark and lonely, I need somebody to hold me”

Once they sang the last part of the song, Eugene made a show to toss some of the hair of his wig over his shoulder, and he struck a dramatic pose. Ack Ack said something into the mic once the song ended, but it could barely be heard with the eruption of cheers and laughs the bar exploded into.

When the song was done, Eugene and Ack Ack jumped off the stage and handed the wigs to two eager, young marines who decided it was their turn next. The K Company men surrounded Eugene and Ack Ack for a moment, clapping them on their backs and shoulders.

“Eugene, that was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since getting shipped out,” Burgin said, shaking him by the shoulders. Eugene caught a whiff of the strong scent of whiskey on Burgin’s breath when Burgin added, “Well, after Florence!”

Eugene laughed and shook his head. “You will never see me doin’ that again. I swear, Burgie.”

Burgin gave him a challenging look and said, “Never say never, Sledgehammer!”

He then grabbed two beers from the bar and handed one to Eugene. Eugene downed what was left of his previous drink, and they cheered their new drinks, both chugging half of the glass right away.

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air,” Eugene said. Burgin clapped him on the shoulder again and nodded before he disappeared back into the crowd near the stage.

Eugene went outside and found a spot to light up his pipe away from a group of loud marines who were gathered at the entrance of the bar. Eugene puffed and puffed on his pipe, watching the smoke swirl out of his mouth and up toward the clear Melbourne sky, filled with unfamiliar, Southern Hemisphere constellations.

He was reminded of the last Christmas he spent with Sid in Mobile, the winter of 1940. It had been Christmas Eve, the sky had been clear all day, and there was a meteor shower forecasted that Eugene and Sid wanted to see. But once the nighttime rolled in, the stars were obscured by thick clouds. Eugene met up with Sid after dinner anyway so that they could exchange presents.

“I saw this at a market my sister dragged me to the other week,” Sid said, handing Eugene a small box. When Eugene opened it, he found a shiny lapel pin in the shape of a spaniel’s head. “I thought it looked like Deacon,” Sid said, scratching the back of his neck.

Eugene smiled, taking the pin out of the box. “Thank you, Sid. It does look just like him.” Sid then helped Eugene pin it to the collar of his shirt.

“Here,” Eugene said once the pin was in place. He handed Sid a small bag, and when Sid opened it, he gaped at the shiny pocketwatch, the outsides encrusted in gold.

“Eugene, wow. This is—It’s too much—”

Eugene waved off his concern and explained, “My parents had a bunch they’ve been trying to sell, but they let me have a couple.”

“Well, thank you,” Sid said, giving Eugene a grateful smile, tucking the watch safely into his pocket. Eugene found it difficult to look away from Sid’s fond expression, that is, until he saw a few white flakes falling between them.

Both Eugene and Sid blinked at each other, and then up at the sky. 

“Is that…” Eugene felt a cold flake land on his cheek. “Snow?”

“I ain’t never seen snow in Mobile,” Sid said quietly, reverently. He held a hand out with his palm facing upwards.

“Me neither,” Eugene agreed.

They watched as Sid caught a few perfectly formed, 6-sided snowflakes in his hand. Sid raised his hand up between them both, and Eugene stepped closer, assessing the snowflakes with Sid.

Eugene looked up and watched how Sid closely analyzed the snowflakes. Sid’s face was admiring, in awe. Eugene hadn’t realized he was staring until Sid looked up at him, and Eugene  then noticed how close he had stepped toward Sid, how there was barely a foot of space between them.

Eugene cleared his throat and looked down at Sid’s hand again, finding that the snowflakes had already melted into tiny droplets of water in Sid’s hand.

“It’s a Christmas miracle," Sid joked, wiping his hand against his shirt. Eugene laughed and stepped back, and the moment passed.

Eugene sighed at the memory, and sighed once again once he realized that he had already smoked all the tobacco in his pipe. He wondered if it ever snowed in Melbourne during the winter, and then he wondered what month it even was. 

Just as he reached into his pocket to grab more tobacco, he heard some quiet, recognizable voices coming from the alleyway just a few steps from him. He could hear Hillbilly’s southern drawl, and he could hear Ack Ack quietly replying.

Something told Eugene he shouldn’t poke his head around the corner, he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his captain and lieutenant having a private conversation, he should just go back inside the bar and watch the show that the marines were putting on.

But his curiosity was too strong, and the alcohol running through his veins made him feel bold. He kept his movements quiet as he peered down into the alley.

Hillbilly stood slouching a bit against the brick wall, his head tilted up so that he was staring up at Ack Ack, who had one hand resting on the wall next to Hillbilly’s head. His other hand was resting low on Hillbilly’s waist. They were grinning at each other, talking far too low for Eugene to make out any words.

Ack Ack leaned in closer to Hillbilly, whispering something into his ear and Hillbilly ducked his head into Ack Ack’s neck and laughed softly. 

Then Eugene noticed the fluttering above their heads, and he saw that there were two tan doves with long tails flying above them, just like he had seen in Pavuvu. It almost looked like a mating ritual between the birds, with both of them cooing and circling each other, touching their beaks together occasionally.

Eugene’s attention was taken off the birds once he heard a soft noise come from Hillbilly, almost a moan. When Eugene focused on the two men again, he realized that Ack Ack had captured Hillbilly’s mouth in a kiss. It was obvious this was not their first kiss. It was intimate, comfortable, familiar. Their lips fit together like they were made for each other. Ack Ack’s hand was squeezing Hillbilly’s waist tight, and Hillbilly’s hand moved to cup Ack Ack’s cheek.

Eugene couldn’t help but let out a gasp at the scene. Ack Ack jumped away from Hillbilly with a quickness Eugene had only ever seen him have during the peak of warfare. Both the captain and the lieutenant's eyes snapped to Eugene, shock and a bit of fear written all over their faces. 

Ack Ack and Eugene made eye contact immediately. Eugene had never seen his captain look so startled and caught off guard.

The doves landed on a ledge above their heads and cooed loudly at Eugene. It was a different sound than the noises they had been making in their mating ritual. It was more like an alarm now, a warning aimed toward Eugene.

“Eugene—” Ack Ack started, but Eugene’s instincts told him to turn away, to pretend like he didn’t see anything. He shouldn’t have let his curiosity win. He quickly returned to the bar and pushed himself into the sea of lively marines who were all still laughing and wooing at the show.

Eugene kept checking if Ack Ack or Hillbilly were coming in after him, if he was going to get reprimanded, court-martialled, for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. 

Neither of them came back into the bar for the rest of the night though, and Eugene didn’t see them for the rest of their break in Melbourne except for when they were giving orders. 

While Hillbilly avoided looking at Eugene unless absolutely necessary, Ack Ack kept giving Eugene unreadable looks. It was almost pleading, imploring, and Eugene wished he could have a moment to talk to the skipper, to let him know that he wasn’t going to tell anyone, that he’s sorry for not minding his business.

But he didn’t get the chance before they returned to Peleliu, and then the war was the only thing on everybody’s minds.

·༻𐫱༺·

When the second bullet hit Hillbilly in the chest, Eugene knew he was gone. The battlefield went eerily quiet immediately afterwards. Even as he and Burgin carried Hillbilly’s body further back from the line, it seemed like all the gunfire ceased firing from both sides, and no one took a breath or spoke a single word.

Not until they got to Ack Ack. The skipper motioned for them to stop and to set Hillbilly down. He leaned over Hillbilly’s body and said, “Eddie?” 

Eugene couldn’t bear to look at Hillbilly, whose blood was smearing all over his clothes. He instead kept his eyes on Ack Ack. Ack Ack’s bottom lip trembled just for a second, and his eyes blinked just once, heavy-lidded. He rested a hand atop Eddie’s chest and said softly, “Eddie…” 

It was as if he were about to say something directly to Hillbilly’s body, but instead, he sniffed hard, his face went blank, and he commanded, “Take him back.”

Eugene and Burgin did as they were told. Eugene waited as long as he could with Hillbilly’s body, but Burgin eventually put his arm around Eugene’s shoulders and said tearfully, “C’mon, Sledgehammer. We can’t dwell now.”

The words made Eugene want to shake Burgin by the shoulders. He wanted them both to scream and cry about the loss. He wanted one goddamn minute to mourn his lieutenant. But then he caught a glimpse of Ack Ack just ahead, squeezing Gunny’s shoulder as he guided him to go back behind the line. 

Ack Ack’s expression was hardened, focused. When he looked up to find Eugene and Burgin coming, his eyes were on their clothes, where Hillbilly’s fresh blood stained them. “Up on line, marines,” Ack Ack said, tearing his gaze off of them, and eventually moving up the line with them.

It wasn’t until early the next morning that Eugene finally got a chance to speak with his captain in private. It was the first conversation they got to have with just each other since their brief talk at the bar in Melbourne.

They were in a brief respite, awaiting orders in the false sense of safety where no gunfire was being fired from either side of the line.

Eugene spotted Ack Ack standing alone, staring off into the distance, a detached expression on his face. When Eugene approached him, Ack Ack nodded to him in acknowledgement and then began to turn away.

“Sir,” Eugene grabbed onto Ack Ack’s bicep before the captain could fully turn his back toward him. Eugene was desperate to get Ack Ack to talk to him about something, anything. He hated to see him so clearly pushing down his feelings, so obviously trying not to mourn Hillbilly in front of his men, especially since Eugene knew just how deep their relationship was.

“Do you want a smoke?” Eugene asked, hastily pulling out his pack and holding it in front of Ack Ack’s face.

Ack Ack sighed, but he turned toward Eugene and he reached for a cigarette, much to Eugene’s relief. Eugene handed his own already-lit cigarette to the skipper so that he could use it to light his.

There was no longer a softness in Ack Ack’s gaze, no longer a light behind his eyes. He gave orders and talked to his men with a seriousness that Eugene hadn’t seen from him before. Of course, it was Ack Ack who gave his men the advice not to dwell, so Eugene understood why he was trying to pretend as if everything was normal.

Eugene searched for something to say, but there were no sentiments he could find to acknowledge their loss. Ack Ack stared at Eugene for a few long moments, then out at the horizon where distant gunfire could be heard, and then he motioned for Eugene to follow him. He led Eugene a bit further behind the line and stopped on the other side of a few large bushes.

Ack Ack then kneeled down and cleared away some leaves, revealing a tan, bloodied dove.

Eugene gasped, kneeled down next to Ack Ack, and watched as Ack Ack gently pet the feathers of the dead bird.

“I found it on Eddie’s stretcher, and I took it,” Ack Ack said.

Eugene looked up at him, a lump growing in his throat when he could see one tear slowly rolling down Ack Ack’s cheek; one clear track cutting through the dirt and blood on his usually well-kempt face.

“Sir—” Eugene began, not even knowing what he was going to say. Ack Ack looked up at him, face filled with grief. There was a quiet shuffling down in the bushes beside them, and Eugene instinctively put one hand on his gun, but when he turned to look at what caused the quiet commotion, he saw another dove sitting in the bush. This one was alive, with its feathers puffed up, its eyes dull and looking toward the dead dove on the ground. 

The silence lingered on, and once it was clear Ack Ack wasn’t going to make the first comment on the birds, Eugene said, “These birds followed you and Hillbilly through the war.” He paused, and when Ack Ack didn’t reply, he added, “I…didn’t know Mourning Doves were native here.”

This made Ack Ack let out a loud sigh, turning to Eugene with a sternness on his face. “They’re not, Eugene. And neither are swans.”

“Swans, sir?” Eugene asked. The memories of the swan he had seen in Mobile and Pavuvu struck him like a truck, and he wondered how Ack Ack could possibly know about that.

Ack Ack sat back on his heels, still keeping an intense gaze on Eugene. “There was a swan in Pavuvu. A white one with a black beak. You saw it, right?”

Eugene nodded.

“You could see it, and Sid couldn’t, right?”

Eugene gaped at him.

“I saw it following the ship when Sid was sent home, in the wake. I also saw one floating near you two when you were talking on the beach. Only one, and only you can see it.”

Eugene just stared, unsure of the point Ack Ack was trying to get to.

“Eddie used to see this dove before I could.” Ack Ack’s hand still gently petted the dead dove. “He started to see it in Guadalcanal, said he could only see it when we were together. Always used to try to point it out to me. He thought I had bad eyesight, I thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Then, on the ship back from the canal, we were alone on the deck. It was nighttime. I couldn’t even tell you what we were talking about, but…He reached over and held my hand. And I looked at him. I really…saw him in a way I hadn’t before. That was the first time we—” Ack Ack paused and cleared his throat, eyebrows furrowing as he restarted his thought. “That was the first time I saw the dove. A second one showed up that night, too, and they both followed us around ‘til. Well, ‘til now, I guess. They seemed to be impervious to the war. No one had ever acknowledged that they could see them, not ‘til you.”

Eugene let the silence linger for a few beats once Ack Ack finished speaking. Then he replied, “I’m not sure I understand why the birds are here, sir. Why they followed you, and me, and why only we can see them.”

“I don’t have the answers, either, Sledge. Eddie thought they were a representation of our souls. Of our…”

“Love?” Eugene offered, then mentally chided himself for being so forward with his captain.

But Ack Ack didn’t get angry. He merely nodded, then opened his mouth to say something further, but was interrupted by the sound of gunfire that was far too close for comfort. Both the captain and Eugene stood up. 

Eugene began to walk back toward the line, but Ack Ack put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Do you love Sid?”

Eugene froze, mouth opening and closing but no words could find their way out.

Ack Ack nodded as if Eugene had answered anyway. “I saw how you looked at him on Pavuvu. Sid just needs a bit more time, just like I did with Eddie. But Eugene, you only have so much time with each other.” Ack Ack looked down at the doves once more. One of them was sitting huddled up against the deceased one. When Ack Ack looked at Eugene again, his eyes looked just as dull as the dove that was still alive. “Once you get back to him—”

“Captain Haldane!” Burgin’s voice cut through their conversation and the growing gunfire.

Ack Ack squeezed Eugene’s shoulder tightly, giving him a final nod to signal the end of their conversation. “Up on line, marines!” he called, pushing Eugene to catch up with Burgin.

There wasn’t any break in the gunfire for the next few hours for Eugene to ask Ack Ack what he was going to say. Once he got back to Sid, then what?

There was one more quiet moment that day, but Eugene couldn’t even try to talk to Ack Ack because the captain was scouting ahead.

And then Burgin came stumbling back to the company, tears in his eyes, and Eugene’s heart dropped.

Ack Ack was dead.

Eugene and Burgin carried his body behind the line, and they stayed with his body for as long as they could, just as they had done with Hillbilly. Before the medics took Ack Ack away, Eugene could’ve sworn that he saw a tan, bloodied feather fall from Ack Ack’s stretcher.

Eugene didn’t see any doves or swans for the rest of his time in Peleliu and Okinawa. He shoved Hillbilly, Ack Ack, and even Sid to the back of his mind. All he could do was use the war as a distraction, to try to keep himself and his company alive.

·༻𐫱༺·

When Eugene got off the train in Mobile, he was afraid.

Afraid of what was going to happen to his mind now that there was no distraction of guns, bombs, and warfare. He was sure that grief would take complete control immediately. And if not grief, then his feelings for Sid would rear its head, which he hadn’t even let himself think about since his final conversation with Ack Ack.

Eugene’s fear withered away temporarily, replaced by a bursting sense of relief when he spotted Sid standing by his car, waiting for Eugene patiently with a little smile on his face. It was as if Eugene was taking his first breath of fresh air since Sid left Pavuvu, and he couldn’t help but let a huge smile onto his face, all the terrible memories of war forgotten, just for this moment.

“You gonna take this for me or what?” Eugene joked, tossing his bag to Sid, who easily caught it.

“It’s good to see you, Eugene,” Sid said, grabbing Eugene’s shoulder and squeezing it tight.

Eugene had to hold himself back from wrapping Sid in the tightest hug possible. He wanted to convey how grateful he was that he and Sid had made it out of the war and could be reunited in this moment. But he reminded himself of his surroundings, kept himself composed, and climbed into Sid’s shiny new car so that he could take Eugene home.

The drive was quiet at first, but not uncomfortably so. Sid had his eyes on the road, that distant look that he always had even before the war still on his face.

Eugene packed his pipe with tobacco and started puffing. He tried to focus on the inhale and exhale, the harshness of the smoke entering and leaving his lungs. He tried not to look at Sid, worried that he wouldn’t be able to control himself, that he’d just blurt out all of his feelings.

Luckily though, Sid broke the silence lightheartedly.

“What’s with the MacArthur bit?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“The Mammy Yokum? Popeye the Sailor?” Sid asked, laughing as he mimicked Eugene puffing on his pipe.

“It calms me down. Packing it, cleaning it. I always have something to do,” Eugene explained.

Sid gave another chuckle and shook his head, turning his attention back on the road.

Eugene didn’t want to see that faraway look return to Sid’s face, so he tried to think of something else to talk about, just to be able to hear Sid’s voice again.

“So, new car, huh?” 

Sid nodded and Eugene’s eyes followed Sid’s hands as they ran around the leather of the steering wheel. “Yep. Brand new Ford, fresh off the lot. I bet you’d be able to get yourself one of these, too. They give you discounts if you fought.” He reached for the volume control on the radio, which was playing something too quiet to hear. “They even threw in this radio for a couple extra bucks. Pretty sweet deal, huh?”

Eugene hummed and tore his gaze off of Sid’s hands, then felt a chill down his spine when Sid turned up the volume and the song playing was clear in Eugene’s ears.

“Tell me I’m your national anthemRed white and blue is in the skySummer’s in the air, and baby, heaven’s in your eyesI’m your national anthem.”

Eugene coughed on the smoke of his inhale, his eyes watering as he struggled to compose himself.

“You alright there, Eugene?” Sid asked, reaching over and slapping his back a few times. “Not a Lana fan? I guess she’s pretty new age, not for everyone.” 

Sid went to change the radio station, but Eugene reached out quickly and grabbed onto Sid’s hand without thinking. “No, leave it,” Eugene said.

Eugene was frozen for a moment, holding tightly onto Sid’s hand, shocked at the coincidence that the same song he had sang with Ack Ack in Melbourne was playing now. It was only when Lana’s voice sang,

“It’s a love story for the new ageFor the sixth pageIt’s a quick, sick rampage”

that Eugene realized how tightly he was holding onto Sid’s hand, how Sid had gone eerily quiet, yet hadn’t pulled his hand away. Eugene dropped Sid’s hand as if it had burned him, and he mumbled out, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Sid replied softly, turning the music up a bit louder as Eugene puffed on his pipe with every inhale and exhale.

Eugene chanced a glance at Sid, who was chewing on his bottom lip and had both his hands clenched on the steering wheel. Eugene wracked his brain for something to say to clear the tension, but it was at that moment that he noticed the huge white bird flying just ahead of the car, a few feet above the ground.

Its wingspan had to have been at least 8 feet across, and seeing it up this close made Eugene realize the magnitude of its size. He looked between the swan and Sid, his stomach doing all sorts of flips and turns. He sighed out a puff of smoke when it was clear Sid couldn’t see the bird.

When they crossed the bridge and approached Eugene’s house, the huge bird landed and sat in his front yard.

“Right here is fine, Sid,” Eugene said at the end of his driveway, right next to the swan.

The voice on the radio continued to sing,

“Blurring the lines between real and the fakeDark and lonely, I need somebody to hold me.”

Eugene’s chest tightened when he remembered his unfinished conversation with Ack Ack all that time ago. He had a vague idea of what he needed to do in order to follow Ack Ack’s advice so that Sid could see the swan too, but he was certain that this was not the time or place to put the idea into action.

“Are you sure this is good?” Sid asked, putting the car in park, unaware of the turmoil twisting in Eugene’s thoughts.

“Yup,” Eugene replied, struggling to make eye contact with Sid. Ack Ack’s words were echoing loudly in his mind, the swan was staring down its beak at Eugene, and Sid was eyeing him curiously.

Eugene climbed out of the car and grabbed his things. “See you later,” he said to Sid, unsure of what else to say. He would have to figure out another time to dump his feelings onto him.

Except Sid just stared at him for a moment, reached a hand out toward him in an aborted movement, then clenched his hand onto the leather of the passenger car seat. “There’s a military ball for marines, two days from now. I can pick you up for it at 1700?” he said, a sudden nervousness making its way into his voice. “Unless you have other plans.”

Eugene nodded. “1700. That sounds good, Sid.”

Sid smiled at him. “Welcome home, Eugene.”

There was a moment where neither of them broke their gaze. Eugene felt like they were sharing a look to make up for all the time they were separated from each other. He wished he could understand what the hesitant, contemplative look in Sid’s eyes meant.

There was an insistent honk from behind Eugene, which made him break his eye contact with Sid, closing the door and turning away so that he faced the black-masked swan. The swan gave another honk, this one softer and sadder. Eugene ignored it, beginning to walk up his driveway. When he didn’t hear Sid’s car start moving right away, he turned around to find Sid still staring at him, as if expecting something from Eugene, exactly like how the swan was looking at him from beside the car. Eugene just gave him another nod, and then turned toward his house and began walking. Sid drove away, and the swan stayed put at the end of the driveway.

·༻𐫱༺·

Eugene wasn’t exactly looking forward to the military ball, but he couldn’t stand another second in his house. He knew his parents and brother meant well, but their presences just felt more suffocating than comforting. His mother almost exclusively talked to him about when he’ll find a job, and his brother—successful and engaged—was a constant reminder of just how poorly Eugene was adjusting to a life after the war. 

And of course, his father meant well when he tried to take Eugene hunting just like they used to, but when Eugene spotted two Mourning Doves sitting on a branch preening each other without a care in the world, all he could think about was Hillbilly and Ack Ack, and he broke down. There was no way he could ever hunt doves again.

Nothing could ever go back to the way that it was, but at least he had Sid back in his life.

Sid, who had been dancing around with Mary Houston all night, sharing all his smiles and laughs with her during the ball, and not Eugene. Of course, Eugene couldn’t blame him. Mary Houston was one of the most beautiful women either of them had ever seen. There were plenty of other gorgeous women that Sid and other marines alike tried to introduce to Eugene, but Eugene declined every offer.

Once the umpteenth lively swing song began playing, Eugene just couldn’t keep pretending that he was having a good time from his spot in the corner, slouched against the wall. As he pulled his pipe out of his pocket and turned to walk out the door, he missed how Sid’s eyes immediately snapped over to him, watching as he stepped out.

Eugene blinked at the tears that burned in his eyes, turning Ack Ack’s words around in his mind.

“Sid just needs a bit more time,” he had said.

Eugene scoffed at the memory. How could Ack Ack even know that Sid felt the same as Eugene did? Maybe he had got it all wrong. Eugene saw how Sid was looking at Mary. It would make more sense for him to fall for her, to want to build a life with her, than to get caught up in Eugene’s feelings.

Eugene lit his pipe with shaky hands and focused on puffing on the tobacco.

“I saw you makin’ a break for it,” Sid’s voice broke through Eugene’s melancholy. He was approaching with two glasses of punch in his hand, and he diligently handed one over to Eugene. “Thought you could use a punch properly spiked.”

Eugene couldn’t help but smile at Sid’s gesture, his brooding quickly forgotten, especially when Sid was looking at him softly, warmly.

“Thank you,” Eugene said as he carefully took the drink. He took a sip and tried to hide his flinch when he heard a honk in the distance. He didn’t need to look to know that the swan was back. He thought of Ack Ack and Hillbilly’s doves again, and the brooding feelings returned. Before he could think, he was blurting out to Sid, “How did all this happen? I mean, look at us, Sid. Sittin’ here at a dance, drinkin’ punch, not a scratch on either of us. I mean, what the hell are we doin’ here?” He couldn’t help the wobble in his voice as he thought about his late captain and lieutenant. “And why—why did I end up back here when all those other fellas didn’t?”

Sid nodded and replied, “I thought that. Every guy back has thought that.” Eugene could see the tears glossing over Sid’s eyes. “But you’ve just got to pull yourself out of bed in the morning, and get on with the day. You do that enough times in a row, you forget some things. For a while, anyway.”

I could never forget them, Eugene thought. Just like I could never forget you. But the words stayed as thoughts, as Eugene couldn’t trust his voice in that moment, not when Sid looked like he was about to break down in tears too.

It was as if the rest of the surrounding crowd and chatter was dulled, and all Eugene could see was Sid and his watery eyes, all Eugene could hear was Sid’s even breaths that Eugene tried to breathe in time to. The words Eugene had been concealing ever since Sid was first shipped away were at the tip of his tongue.

He probably would’ve blurted them out had he not been pulled back into awareness of his surroundings by a louder, more insistent, honk.

Eugene stood up abruptly and turned toward the sound. He spotted the white swan in the distance, floating in a small pond a bit further away from the venue.

“Eugene?” Sid asked, concerned as he stood up as well.

“Come with me,” Eugene said, and started walking with purpose toward the pond.

“Eugene, what—” Sid started, but cut himself off as he walked quickly to catch up to Eugene. “Where are we goin’?”

Eugene didn’t answer. He took one last drag of his pipe, dumped the ash into the grass, and then put the pipe back into his pocket as they reached the water’s edge. The swan floated calmly in the center of the pond, giving Eugene that same expectant look as always. Eugene took one long, deep breath before sitting down right at the edge of the water. Sid followed suit, carefully setting his glass of punch down onto the grass.

Eugene turned toward Sid, who was looking at Eugene confused. It made Eugene realize just how dark it was where Eugene had led them to. There were no lights illuminating them other than the moon and the stars. The chatter and music from the venue were a distant buzz, and there was no one else nearby them. Not even Mary Houston came to look for Sid, which Eugene took as a sort of sign.

Even in the dark, Sid’s soft blue eyes shone bright, and Eugene could just make out the worry creases on his forehead. Some of Sid’s hair had fallen out of its neat style during their fast walk over here, a few stray strands nearly reaching Sid’s eyebrows. Eugene had half a mind to reach out and push the strands back into place, but he curled his hands into fists to stop himself, trying to hold onto what little reserve he had left.

Sid asked quietly, “What’s goin’ on? What are we doin’ over here?”

Ack Ack’s words rang loud in Eugene’s mind. “You only have so much time with each other.”

Sid’s hands were resting in his lap, the swan let out another call, and Eugene could just barely hear the current song playing from the venue.

“I’m your national anthem,God he’s so handsome.”

Before Eugene could think twice, he unclenched one of his hands and reached over to grab one of Sid’s. Sid’s hand was soft, and he didn’t pull away or try to protest when Eugene fumbled to interlace their fingers together.

“I…” Eugene started, searching Sid’s face for some sort of answer, searching his own mind for the right words to say. He squeezed Sid’s hand a bit too tight and tried to make sensible words from his thoughts. “You’re my best friend, Sid. One of the kindest people I ever met. When you were first shipped out from Mobile, I was so terrified of losin’ you. I—” Eugene cleared his throat. “I’m glad we both made it. I’m glad we’re together right now.”

“I am too,” Sid replied, squeezing Eugene’s hand back just as tight. There was still confusion and concern on Sid’s face when he inquired softly, “What’s this about, Eugene?”

Eugene met Sid’s eyes, and he had no reservations left to hold onto. He started to lean closer to Sid, eyes on Sid’s parted lips, and when Sid didn’t try to shift away, Eugene closed the last of the short distance between them. He inexpertly pressed his lips against Sid’s, misjudging the angle a bit, so his own lips were pressed more against Sid’s bottom lip and chin.

Eugene pulled back just a bit and pressed in again to recenter their lips. Sid’s lips were chapped and dry but soft, unlike any of the girls Eugene had kissed before. Granted, he had only briefly kissed a few girls back in high school, and none of them had meant as much to Eugene as Sid did.

Eugene only let the kiss go on for a few seconds before he pulled back in a jerky motion. Sid wasn’t kissing him back, his lips parted but unresponsive against Eugene’s own, and his hand went slack in Eugene’s grip.

The tears were welling up quickly in Eugene’s eyes, and he looked down at the ground. He couldn’t even stand to look at Sid. He couldn’t face the rejection and disgust that he was sure would be on Sid’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Eugene managed to choke out, pulling his hand away and beginning to stand up.

“Eugene,” Sid said, desperation clear in his voice. He gripped onto Eugene’s arm so tight that Eugene couldn’t stand up. Eugene finally forced himself to meet Sid’s eyes, but Sid’s eyes weren’t on Eugene’s, they were on Eugene’s lips.

With his free hand, Sid cupped Eugene’s cheek and leaned in quicker than Eugene had time to process. Sid crashed his lips into Eugene’s, and they both opened their mouths to gasp, their teeth clanking together. Sid was pressing impossibly closer to Eugene, kissing him fervently, and Eugene’s brain struggled to keep up.

They both let out a gasp when Sid’s enthusiasm caused Eugene to topple over backwards. Eugene’s back hit the grass, and Sid followed with him, easily positioning himself between Eugene’s legs, as if it was the most natural place for him to be. Eugene let out a laugh of elation against Sid’s lips, and Sid pulled away just enough to share a smile with him.

Eugene gripped Sid’s waist with one hand and tangled a hand into his hair with his other, mussing up his blonde locks, but Sid didn’t seem to mind. Sid wrapped his arms around Eugene and they shared a few frantic, wet kisses, uncoordinated and messy, but neither of them could give a damn. Sharing this moment with Sid was all that mattered, it didn’t matter that neither of them really knew what they were doing.

The moment Sid began hesitantly lowering his hips against Eugene’s, a loud splashing noise followed by a litany of trumpeting honks made them jerk away from each other, scrambling to sit up and look toward the source of the noises. 

In the pond in front of them, another white swan with a black mask had joined the other, and they were circling each other excitedly in the water. Both were quivering the feathers of their wings, making loud trumpeting noises, going back and forth between raising their beaks to the sky and then down to touch their bills to each other, creating a heart shape with their necks and heads.

Sid let out a breath and said reverently, “Isn’t that somethin’.”

Eugene looked between the swans and Sid, then let out a disbelieving laugh. “You can see them?”

“Yeah?” Sid replied, then a look of realization dawned on his face. “That swan you saw in Mobile all those years ago…”

Eugene nodded frantically. “I’ve been seein’ a swan whenever I’m with you, Sid. In Mobile, Pavuvu. When you picked me up at the train station. Even tonight, before you saw it, I kept hearin’ it. You could never see it.” He looked at the two swans, still circling each other, but trumpeting a bit quieter than they were before. Neither of them had that daunting, expectant look on their face that the lone swan always had. Now that there were two, they both looked comfortable and content. “It’s just like Ack Ack said about him and Hillbilly,” Eugene thought aloud.

“Ack Ack and Hillbilly?” Sid asked.

“There were these doves that followed them through the war. Followed them til the end.” Eugene thought about the doves being a representation of their love and their souls, about how the swans were just the same. “Sid, I—” he began. He swallowed around the nervous lump in his throat, told himself it was now or never, and then confessed, “I love you.”

Sid let out a soft gasp and snapped his eyes off of the swans and toward Eugene. He looked at Eugene as if he was the only person in the world, and he replied, “Eugene, I…I never thought we’d be able to…” A crease of concentration formed on Sid’s forehead, and he ran his fingers through his hair before he leveled Eugene with a devoted look. “I love you, too, Eugene. God, I really do.”

It was tears of pure relief and joy that filled Eugene’s eyes then, and it was his turn to kiss Sid with a force that tackled him backwards.

The swans trumpeted softly from beside them in the pond, the song played from the venue in the distance,

“Baby, heaven’s in your eyes.I’m your national anthem.”

and Eugene couldn’t agree more as he and Sid smiled against each other’s lips.

Mickey knew Ian would want to celebrate. He’s been getting better at the whole self-love thing. Instead of sulking in their room, remembering all the times he was punished for his excitement until he figured out his existence isn’t something to celebrate, they would go out and get dinner and come home drunk on both alcohol and love. Though he can’t help but feel an ache in his chest for his forlorn upbringing. 

“Christ. I forgot,” Mickey places his hands on Ian’s hips, “I’m getting old.” 

Ian scoffs, “Don’t say that. You’re still in your twenties, doofus.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes and pushes Ian off his lap, “Go get the door.” 

Ian complies, leaving one last kiss on his cheek. 

He overhears a soft conversation, hushed and excited. 

He barely makes out what sounds like a woman’s voice paired with Ian’s. Mickey rubs his eyes, trying to rack his brain for any neighbor they might have pissed off last night who would come over to complain. He quickly throws on clothes and walks out to the living room to see Ian standing in the kitchen with Tami. 

She makes eye contact with him, “Fucking finally.” 

“What the hell do you mean ‘finally.’ It’s nine in the fucking morning.” 

“For normal people with healthy sleep schedules, it’s late,” she cocks her hips out, “Came to drop off your present, asshole, say thank you.” 

He punches her shoulder lightly, “Thanks, dick.” 

She holds out a small box, wrapped neatly in green wrapping paper. He haphazardly rips it off and opens it.  

There's an assortment of gifts. The first thing he pulls out is a Mickey Mouse plushie with a card taped to the front. The writing is messy, scribbled crayon, it reads: 

“hapy birth day, uncle mickey

freddie.” 

“Cool,” Mickey’s voice breaks, Tami and Ian snicker. 

“Lip helped pick out the toy,” Tami adds. 

“Fucker,” Mickey gently places the gift on the countertop. 

He goes back in and grabs a package wrapped in plastic. He realizes it’s soap and shampoo, a certain kind he told Tami he wanted a while ago, “How the fuck did you remember this?” 

Tami shrugs, “You’re my friend, stupid. There’s also a cookbook, Lip got that for both of you since Ian’s getting into growing his own food.”  

Mickey grabs the book that’s sitting on the bottom of the box, glancing at it before tossing it to Ian, “Thank you,” he nods and before he realizes it, she’s hugging him and pulling away. 

“Happy birthday, Mick. Love you guys,” Tami kisses Ian’s cheek, “I gotta go, see ya.” 

“Bye, Tami,” Ian waves, turning back to Mickey, who’s still standing, staring at the gifts that Tami dropped off. 

“Hey,” Ian says softly, rubbing his shoulders, “You good, baby?” 

Mickey nods, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just-you know-” 

Ian does know. Not only because Mickey told him how weird it is, how uncomfortable he gets when people do things like this for him-nice things-but also because Ian experiences it himself. Maybe not to the same degree as Mickey, but he’s seen the way Ian malfunctions when one of his friends gets him something nice. He knows he has the same sort of wary confusion when they get to have good things. 

Mickey leans into Ian’s touch, “Wanna go back to sleep.” 

Ian rests his chin in the crook of Mickey’s neck, turning his face to plant a kiss on his cheek, “We can do that, baby.” 

They go back to sleep until one, Ian wakes him again gently, whispering in his ear that they have to get up because Kev and Vee need help in the Alibi. 

“It’s my fucking birthday, they should helping me!” Mickey yelped as Ian poked his side. 

“Come on. The minute they’re done, we’ll come back here and sleep to your heart's content.” 

“So forever?” Mickey asked from underneath a pillow. 

Ian made an alarmed sound from the back of his throat, Mickey threw a pillow at his head, “Not like that, asswipe. Just tired today.” 

Ian nods, sympathetic despite Mickey’s attack, “I know, honey. I promised them we would both go. So get your birthday ass up.” 

Mickey does in fact get his ass up. After thirty more minutes of complaining, they’re off to the Alibi. 

Ian pulls up to the bar and parks right in front of the doors. Mickey’s about to get out when Ian grabs his arm, “Okay, cards on the table, we planned a surprise party for you.” 

Mickey tilts in his head, perplexed by Ian’s definition of surprise, “I don’t think you know how surprises work, lover.” 

Ian picks at the skin of his lip, his eyes narrowed at the hollow of Mickey’s throat, “I just know you don’t like surprises.” 

Mickey sits back in his seat, watching as Ian nervously gnaws at his chapped lips. They’ve had this talk before, mainly about Mickey’s sleeping. Ian’s learned from experience after sleeping in the same bed with him for five plus years that no one should ever shake Mickey awake. Or yell to wake him up. Or sneak up on him. Mickey’s always been hyper aware of his surroundings, it was never something he concerned himself with, ignoring the panic that reached up his throat with surprises. Though recently, Ian told him he has symptoms of PTSD rather than just being cautious. 

“Alright,” Mickey nods, “How many people?” 

“Just my family. I called Mandy but-” 

“She’s working, I know.” 

“She said happy birthday. Kev and Vee obviously. Tami,” Ian squirms in his seat like he’s nervous. 

“Right, well, can’t sit out here forever.” 

The minute they step into the bar, everyone screams surprise. 

Ian was right, that wouldn’t have been good for anyone had Mickey not known. 

“Uncle Mickey!” Franny screams and hugs his legs, “I made you a card!” She presents a card covered in glitter, depicting two stick figures holding guns and bags of money. 

For the second time today, Mickey has to stop himself from crying. Bending down to hug her, he pats her hair and tells her he loves it. 

“Uncle Ian helped!” 

“Did he now?” Mickey raises an eyebrow at his husband, who nods proudly at his niece. 

“Happy birthday, Mick!” Tami calls out, rocking Freddie in her arms. 

Mickey nods and immediately gravitates to the bar, sitting down next to Lip, who’s playing with Freddie’s fingers. 

Kev sets down a beer, “On the house for family, dude.” 

Mickey takes it, trying not to show his unease, he grumbles, “Thanks,” before turning his attention to Ian who’s bending down and talking to Franny and Liam. 

“Hey, Mickey,” Lip greets, distracted. 

“Yo,” Mickey’s about ready to comfortably sit in silence, just enjoying watching on the outskirts as his in-laws mingle. 

“Ian tell you about the party?” Lip asks nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah. Right before.” 

“Knew he would. While we were fucking putting it together, he-” 

“Wait, hold on,” Mickey interrupted him, “You helped plan this shit?” 

Lip deadpans, “Uh, yeah. Well, obviously Ian said he wanted to do something for your birthday but I figured we should have it here, you know. With family.” 

Family. 

He remembers the kitchen conversation, it feels like it happened so long ago. The sinking feeling in his stomach when Lip told him he wasn’t family. To a degree, he understood what he meant, but he still felt the words hit his chest like a bullet. 

“Thought I wasn’t family,” Mickey teases, watching as the realization dawns on Lip, recognition enveloping his eyes. 

“Shit, Mickey, that wasn’t-” Mickey cuts him off by waving a hand. 

“It’s alright, shithead. Don’t give a shit,” Mickey lies, he does give shit, many in fact, but he doesn’t need Lip knowing that. 

“Sure, but you are family, you know that, right?” Lip doesn’t make eye contact with him, just continues playing with his son's fingers.  

Mickey sits on the bar stool, trying to cope with the knowledge that all of these people-these stupid fucking Gallaghers and Balls and Tamiettis-care about him enough to throw him a surprise birthday party. 

His fucking family. 

Ian apparently takes notice of his discomfort and walks over to him, Franny on his hip, “Hey, you good?” With the hand that isn’t holding up a six year-old, he rubs his back, eventually resting his palm on the nape of his neck. 

Mickey nods, “It’s just a lot, man.” 

Ian nods, “I know. Do you wanna go?” 

Mickey shakes his head, staring at the sleepy Franny who buries her head into Ian’s shoulder, her cheek squished on his collarbone. 

“Nah, I’m good,” Mickey says as Franny stretches out her arms, opening and closing her fists. 

“You wanna go with Uncle Mickey instead?” Ian asks her. 

When she nods, he kisses the top of her head and passes her to Mickey. Ian giggles as Mickey’s eyes go wide then soften, his shoulders relaxing as Franny peacefully transitions from one Uncle to the next, blissfully unaware of Mickey’s internal panic. 

“Happy birthday, Mickey,” Ian kisses his cheek and leans into his side, sliding an arm around his torso.