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imaginesbymk · 3 years

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“There is no Goodbye.”

The Pacific One Shot

Summary: Nothing is more ironic than Eugene breaking up with you just for the sake of sparing you the heartbreak if he were to die at war. But when he’s lucky to return home to Mobile, his first mission is to find you. Will Eugene be able to win you back before someone else does?

Pairing: Eugene Sledge x Fem!Reader

Non Requested

Tags: angst/breakup, swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of an ethnic slur + mentions of war violence

Word Count: 3,016

Author’s Note: song inspiration for this oneshot is wait by m83!!! i totally recommend this song cos its so beautiful!! pls give this a like/reblog and maybe some feedback!! <333

YOU were sick of crying in your pillow every night. You were aware of how puffy your eyes must have been by now, you acknowledged your friends who called and visited, checking on you, but not even that helped soothe the heartache in you. His name just kept echoing in your mind and replayed, finding their way into your sleep. You wished you hated Eugene Sledge, but deep down in your heart- you just couldn’t.

Three knocks came on your bedroom door. “Y/n, your food’s getting cold,” you heard your mother from the other side.

“I’m not hungry.” You couldn’t remember the amount of times you’ve used that as an excuse to stay where you were, depressed and heartbroken.

Eugene broke up with you on a Sunday night. You two were dressed for the occasion; a dinner party was held at a grand convention center that was known and popular by several Alabamians. You wore the necklace Eugene got you as a gift, and you loved showing it off. In fact, you wore it every day to remind yourself, your family and your friends that Eugene Sledge was the love of your life.

Later you noticed how strange he was acting the whole dinner, how quiet and tense he got so suddenly. His hand would slip away whenever you held it while walking, or when they were held under the table. It was like he was trying to hold something back, like a cat catching his tongue. Then, you found him outside, leaning against the stairway.

“What is it, Eugene?”

He paused every time he looked at you, how it pained him to say what he needed to say. Whether it was now or never, he leaves for the train in a couple of days.

“Wait a minute, Eugene,” You remembered your body turning cold as ice, but not from the night breeze. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Oh how you wished he was kidding, but the look on his face read that he wasn’t in the slightest. He was joining the marines corps, despite his heart murmur and his father and brother encouraging him to go to college instead. He flunked out of his classes on purpose just to enlist, and since only God knows what fate lies ahead, he felt it was best to put a stop to the relationship.

It wasn’t your right to be angry about his choices sometimes. He was in his twenties now, old enough to make up his mind. He was fighting for everyone’s freedom, after all, which is probably the bravest thing Eugene is doing. However, you didn’t understand why. Eugene was a believer, he believed in God and miracles. He asked God to send him a miracle through prayer in his own time, and they were answered in the form of you. So why couldn’t he believe in the stable relationship you both can still have even when he’s off to fight?

As expected, you didn’t take it too well. Right there, you broke down in front of him. Eugene walked over and reached his hand out to touch your shoulder, but you shoved him away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. You angrily ripped the necklace off of you and threw it at him before running off in tears. He never chased after you.

You dared not to go back inside the dining hall where your family and friends were, as well as his, so you walked home by yourself without waiting for anyone to catch up with you. He was going mad, you bet. Enlisting in the marines was one thing, but calling it quits on your relationship?

That was the last time you saw Eugene. He didn’t wait to see if you would turn up at the train station, begging him to have a change of heart. He never saw you there, and he boarded the train to California.

What were you more upset about: the love of your life dumping you, or the chances of the love of your life dying?

THE year was now 1945, and Eugene sat in the passenger seat in Sid’s mobile when he picked him up from the station.

The Japanese surrendered, and the boys back at the islands held a celebration with drinking, bonfires and loud music. Eugene, Snafu and Burgin sat on the rocks, watching the night sky, contemplating their return to home.

Victory Day was now nighttime, Eugene blew out smoke from his pipe, counting the stars. His tiny bible that was pocketed in his dungarees was pulled out, using the distant lit fires as a light to read through the tallied marks from the book of Genesis to Thessalonians, then out came a piece of paper that fell onto his lap.

He picked it up and unfolded it, taking another puff from his pipe. Eugene reads the first two words.

Dear y/n

The letter was never delivered to you because it was a letter Eugene had never sent, in fact it was never finished. He never got his first sentence down as they were ordered to get their gear ready to move down Okinawa. He never wrote a letter to you at all for the rest of his time serving, because he knew he wouldn’t be receiving one back.

Snafu slapped him awake one night and told him to shut up because he kept saying your name in his sleep. Eugene sounded desperate and panicked when he said it, too, and if the volume increased, it would have given away their spot. The marine was lucky it was a slap in the face rather than a bullet to the skull.

The next day, Snafu asked Eugene for two things: a light, and who “y/n” was.

“She was my girl,” Eugene handed a lighter to Snafu to light his cigarette.

“Was.”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her at home just for a man in uniform to come to her door to tell her I’ve been KIA.”

“Shit, so you dumped her?” Snafu grins. “Should of given her to me, Sledgehammer.”

Eugene didn’t laugh. It was an inappropriate joke, no surprise coming from Snafu himself. He sat in the filth in silence, his bloodied and dirty hands holding your gold necklace that you threw at him. He brought it with him to war, and kept it as a bookmark in his Bible.

Eugene’s home was the same as he had left it, he knew that when Sid pulled up at the long pathway at the gates. Georgia cottage was indeed a sight, and Eugene loved it so much as a child. It was spacious with nature and trees to walk his dog, a forest down the road to go hunting and fishing with his father, a meadow where he would take you on a warm day.

Sid sat in the parked car for a few moments, Eugene hadn't started walking to the front door just yet. “I visited her,” Sid broke the silence. “Just like I promised.”

Eugene had to ask, “How is she?”

“I was starting to think she had forgotten about you... that was until I showed up at her door,” he replies. “It was tense, but she’s doing all right.”

Eugene nods, smiling a bit. He trusted his best friend to check up on you for him. At least you were doing fine, according to Sid’s words. "No crying?”

“She don’t cry no more. I introduced her to Mary Houston and invited her to my wedding- if that’s alright with you.”

He chuckled, making a face. “Why would I not be? It’s your wedding, you greaser.”

“Well one, and you should probably take my word for it, Y/N still hates your guts,” he said. “And two, whether or not she speaks to you at all on my wedding day, at least I’ll have you there as my best man.” Sid noticed the look on his best friend’s face. “There’s the O.O.M ball coming up. Y/n’s gonna be there.”

He smiles at him. “See you later?”

“Welcome home, Eugene.” And he drives off, prompting Eugene to reunite with his parents.

[x]

SHOWING up to the O.O.M ball immediately made you feel bummed. You showed up without a date. You shouldn’t have the right to feel bummed, anyway. You turned down any guy that had asked you. You could have said yes, but something in your heart was telling you no, and you couldn’t figure out what it was.

Sighing, you suddenly didn’t feel like going to the bar for a second drink, and you just didn’t like waiting until your friends weren’t with their dates to go up to talk to them, so you found yourself heading outside to the front. It’s not like you could escape the guests, as tables and chairs were set outside occupied with more people, and even more people standing around and chatting with their friends.

You leaned over a tree where you felt like no one could see you for approach, being able to hear the loud music from the inside. But for what? You could just leave and say you felt sick. What were you waiting for?

Several years had gone by since he left, and nothing about you has changed. Your hair grew a bit after a slight trim, and so has your wardrobe. Your dress was pretty expensive, and no one complimented it. You just needed someone to come up to you and say-

“You look beautiful.”

You spun around, knowing that Southern accent all too well. Not a lot of alcohol was consumed, so asking yourself if you drank too much that you started to see and hear things was out of the question. How did he know where to find you? How was he able to sneak up on you like how he used to as a surprise? He’d always do that, then pick you up and spin you around with joy. But this time, he stood in front of you, gazing at you like a painting.

Your vision started blurring.

“Y/n?” he thought you were having a stroke in front of him, and he reached out his hand. “Y/n?”

“Gimme a minute.” You breathed heavily, gripping the tree for support. Maybe you were about to faint in shock. After picking up your senses, you were able to respond. “Eugene,” you said softly. “You’re here.”

He nodded. “In the flesh.” You really couldn’t believe it. Maybe you were seeing and hearing things. But he was here. Eugene Sledge was really here, standing before you, and not a scratch on his face. His hair was fixed, too, and you could tell he was now in greater shape.

“How was...” you felt like you shouldn’t ask for so many reasons. “I mean, you made it. You’re home.”

“At last,” he answered, placing his wooden pipe in his mouth. “What are you doing all the way over here? Your date’s probably searching all of Mobile for you.”

“I don’t have a date,” you shook your head. “I mean, I came alone. I didn’t bring anyone.”

“You too?” he blew out smoke.

“Yeah. Um-” all it took was for you to breath in and crunch your nose from the awful stench of nicotine that everyone was so used to. “Since when did you start smoking?”

He shrugged. “Since I killed my first Jap. Helps me calm down.”

"Well... I’m talking to you and you’re blowing smoke right in my face.”

Eugene nodded, taking the pipe out. “Sorry. How have you been?”

“Good.”

Eugene furrowed his brows. “That’s it? Just good?”

“I mean, what else would you expect me to say?”

“You’ve completed your education, you’re engaged, you and your partner are buying a house?”

“Jesus, Eugene. It’s way too early for that. I can’t even drive.”

“I’m kidding. I can only assume you’re in complete shock. I can’t say I’m not surprised,” Eugene says. “I can also assume you hated me as soon as you threw the necklace I gave you right at me.”

“And I still hate you.”

He looks at you, scoffing. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” you folded your arms. “You dump me and leave to join the marine corps, I wrote you a letter on your birthday and you never wrote back, every time I see your parents at the market they look at me like I’m the face of death. You shouldn’t have come here, I was doing just fine.”

“Really?” Eugene raised his eyebrows. The nonsense coming out that mouth. If only Eugene could kiss them shut. "All right. Heard you spoke with Sid.”

“Yeah, and? He invited me to his wedding."

“And he asked me to be his best man. So you might as well hold in your punch until the wedding is over.”

Your blood started to boil. Maybe you haven’t changed, but the war did indeed change the hell out of him. This attitude he carried wasn’t impressing you one bit. “What the hell’s your problem?”

“My problem? I’m trying to have a conversation with you, y/n.”

“And you’re acting as if I’m the reason you dumped me.”

“I had my reasons,” he spoke back,

“Damn you, Eugene Sledge!” you slapped him repeatedly on his chest and shoulder. “Damn you for hurting me like that! Damn you for not writing to me! Damn you for leaving me!”

You cried out, as he simply stared and did his best to restrain your arms away from hitting him once more.

He never spoke a word until you calmed down. Then, you realized... “Oh God, Eugene. I’m so sorry,” you gasp. “I would never lay a hand on you.”

“A Jap tried to kill me with a bayonet,” Eugene said. “I kinda had that slap coming.”

You let a tear fall down your cheek, and you looked down so Eugene wouldn’t be able to notice, but he was smart enough to know. “Baby... it’s okay. I’m here now.” He pulled you close and held you. You haven’t felt his touch since that night. You were overcome with the nostalgia during the happy times, and even the sad times. He would hold you like you were gonna slip right out of his hands.

“I’ve missed you so much, y/n. There hasn’t been a night where I haven’t dreamt about you, where I would die, or where I would watch you marry a man who doesn’t know you the way I do.”

“Eugene... you broke my heart and just stomped on it like mud.”

“And you had every right to be hurt, but that was never my intention, I just did what I thought was the right thing.” He played with the curls in your hair and kissed you softly on your temple.

It wasn’t like it was a last minute decision. Regardless his heart murmur was there or not, he wasn’t going to stay home and attend classes. Breaking up with you wasn’t last minute, either.

“I guess I should have been more understanding,” you admit, leaning back against the tree.

“I spent nights trying to come up with what I was going to say, and when I was planning on saying it. I used to worry about the murmur, if I’d remember to feed Deacon, or telling my Mother about my plans for the future.”

“You weren’t sure about any of those things, Gene.”

“Seeing your face that night made me realize I’m never going to love anyone else the way I love you,” Eugene shook his head slowly. “I was definitely sure about that.”

“Loved,” you correct him.

“No, y/n. Love. I still love you, more than the stars reach the apex of this goddamn universe. I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop loving you. You’re really the answer God has given me after endless nights of praying for something good.”

“Then why didn’t you write me?”

“I had to find a way to move on. If it distracted me from fighting, I would have been as good as dead. Something in me died from the war, but the feelings I have for you are still here.”

You couldn’t help but smile a bit. “I love you more, Eugene.”

“So I hope it’s not too late to ask this,” Eugene said. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, are you seeing anyone?”

You shook your head.

He raised his brows. “So for nearly four years, you haven’t been seeing anyone? Not one fella?”

“I tried to. I mean, I kept thinking you slept with a nurse.”

“Women weren’t even in my corner of the pacific, and nurses were there to do their jobs. Besides,” Eugene smiled. “I’d rather come home to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known in Mobile.”

“Mary Houston?”

Eugene laughs. “I was talking about you. At least you’re humble.” He laughed harder when you started playfully slapping him on the chest repeatedly again. “Hey! But there’s no one I’d rather be with. I’m willing to start over, maybe pick up where we left off.”

“I would love that.”

Eugene reached in his tux pocket, pulling out the golden necklace you loved wearing. “I believe this belongs to you.” He walked behind you, and began wrapping the necklace around your neck, clipping the lock together in place. “Y’know, after throwing it right at my face?”

“Sorry,” you blushed. “Don’t ever do that again; saying goodbye.”

“There is no goodbye.” He turned your head to face him using his finger under your chin. “There never was, just the old hello.”

You smiled again.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He pulls you close to him. “Is that all right?”

“You can kiss me whenever you feel like it, Gene.” And you wouldn’t mind it one bit.

“Yes, ma’am.” And he leans in, kissing you almost a dozen times now, the overcoming nostalgia of the good time hitting once more. “And once I’m done kissing the daylights outta you, I’m bringing you inside. It’s been a while since I’ve danced with the love of my life.”

the end

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solo-pitstop-vibes · 5 years

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Don’t Have to Tell Me Twice

A/N: I wrote this one kinda quick, maybe it’s not too bad. I’m trying to really work on my writing so I’m going to try to get the part two for Come Home to Me out soon. Enjoy!

Words: 2,333

"The murmur is gone."

The words that stopped your heart, your breathing, and echoed in your mind for weeks, months, days, and years. The second those four words slipped from your sweet Eugene's lips, your world stopped. You held it together, but that night you cried yourself to sleep. You knew Gene would be shipping off soon, off to fight the war that he had so desperately been trying to claw his way to. You didn't want him to go, you knew better than to beg, so you didn't dare ask him to stay. His heart was with the war, and if he didn't go, his heart would never be at home. So you collected yourself the best you could and came to terms with him leaving. You didn't know how long he'd be gone or if you'd ever see him again. You two had known each other for several years now, him being the first person you met when your family moved to town when you were 13, and now you were inseparable. You and Eugene had just been together as a couple for about 9 months when he shipped out.

Seeing him off at the train station almost broke your heart entirely. Especially when he gave you that adorable half-smile of his standing out on the platform.

"You better not run off and find another gal on your way home when the war is over," you had said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, a small grin on your face.

"I'll try my hardest darlin'. Ain't nobody as pretty as you though, gotta make sure I come home so no one steals the prettiest girl in Mobile out from under me," Eugene smiles that smile that made you fall in love with him all over again, and your blush could be seen a mile away. The whistle of the train caught your attention and broke your smiles. It was time.

"Don't forget, mother and father want you over for supper every Sunday afternoon, and you can take Deacon on a walk anytime you like. Don't be shy, they love you," Eugene reminded you.

"I know, Gene. Thank you for reminding me, I'll make sure to give Deacon extra lovin' since you won't be there to spoil him." That dog had gone everywhere with you two the past few years, he had become like a child between the pair of you. You never saw you two without Deacon. The train whistle blew again, meaning it was time for Eugene to board. Tears had started to well up in your eyes, and Eugene pulled you into a tight embrace.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll be back, I promise. I love you (Y/N)."

You hugged him back with everything in your body before pulling away.

"I love you too Eugene," your hands settled on his chest and his came up to cup your face, pulling your lips to his. You knew the next kiss shared between you two would a very long time from then, but you never thought it would be nearly 4 years later. In your heart, it felt like an eternity.

—

Life had been passing by, but not truly lived while Eugene was away. You had kept Gene's reminder in check, and you had supper with his family every Sunday evening and walked Deacon at least every other day. Since Eugene had been gone, you had moved out of your family's house into a small one bedroom house closer to town. It was exactly what you wanted, and everything you could ask for. Your parents had offered to help you purchase the small home, in exchange that you took classes at Alabama Polytechnic, and kept a small job. Three or four days out of the week after your last midday class, you were an assistant in the office at the elementary school downtown. You always loved seeing the kids during the school year, and when the summers rolled around, they always let you help out the rest of the staff with any repainting they did around the school. Most of the staff had gotten to know you, so they always tried to keep you busy and your thoughts off the constant worry in your mind.

To everyone else, it seemed as if you were doing just fine, but on the inside, you were a pile of shattered glass. Each waking moment was a struggle, every moment was filled with dread and worry. Your worst nightmare was hearing the news that no one wanted to hear, the news that made mothers, fathers, siblings, and significant others crash to their knees and weep. Each letter from Eugene was a small relief, but his letters were filled with glimpses into the hell he was living. He tried his hardest to spare you the gore and the hideous details of each day in the Pacific, but you knew he was struggling to keep it together. You did your best writing him back, you never wanted to glorify the quaint life of Mobile. That was a cruel thing to do to a man in war. Eugene's letters often came months late, and you may only receive one every 3-5 months. When you other best fried, Sidney Phillips returned from the Pacific, he did his best to comfort you when you were down. Although, he was still trying to help himself to recover from the horrors he had seen in the war himself. Since Sid's return home, you both decided to at least have lunch with each other once a week, usually every Tuesday. You were actually the one to help him get up the courage to finally ask Mary Houston it, a girl he had been pinning after since he was a young teenager. After a few months of them dating, Mary started joining you two for lunch, and you and her became friends. This became your routine, every Tuesday you three would meet at the little diner downtown, have lunch, talk, and enjoy each other's company. A year passed and one day, the couple sitting across from you couldn't stop smiling at each other. It warmed your heart to see them so happy together, but this affection was a little more than usual.

"Okay, you two," you giggle, setting your coffee cup down on the table in front of you, "y'all haven't stopped smiling at each other since you walked up. Something tells me that something is goin' on here that I just don't know about yet. You best spill the beans before I have to pull it out of ya."

They both laughed and Sid caught your gaze, a broad smile on his face. It clicked in your head and you already knew what he was about to say. A genuine smile spread across your cheeks, "Well Sid I hate to tell ya, but you might have a few men try to jump you when you announce that the Mary Houston is officially off the market for good." You all laughed and Mary gushed about how romantic it was when Sid asked her to marry him. Their engagement started a new branch of your life that helped you pull through each day. Mary began including you in things with her friends, and she always had a list of things to ask your opinion on each Tuesday. You never let the news break to Gene, Sid said he wanted to break the news to him himself, so you kindly agreed. You helped them plan their small engagement party, which was held at the new banquet hall down by the bay. That night, your heart ached that you couldn't have Eugene by your side, but you put a smile on your face for everyone. The wedding creating a new thread in life for you, which helped brighten your days. The couple decided to wait until the war was over to have the ceremony, mainly due to the fact that Sidney wanted Eugene to be his best man, even though you offered to wear one of Eugene's old suit coats over your dress and be a stand-in. He declined the offer, saying you were too pretty to be standing in for Eugene, that he needed the real deal.

Between the wedding planning, working at the elementary school, and attending college, before you knew it, another year had passed. You were painting a large cartoon farm in one of the halls at the elementary school when the news rang out on the radio nearby. The other ladies helping you paint went frantic.

"The war is over!"

"The troops are coming home!"

"No more war!"

You were stunned, the paintbrush still tight in your hand.

"(Y/n)! Aren't you excited, your lover boy is coming home!" That comment caught you, and the rest of the day, you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

You called Sid the second you got home, questions flying from our lips. When do you think Gene would be home? Do you think he'll come straight home? You also told him to ask Mary what you should wear to the train station. He only laughed and said, "Slow down speedy, I don't know the answer to every question you've got now. We'll just have to hear from Gene first, he can answer more than I can. He might be rounded up for some cleanup work, so it could be another few months, but Mary said she'd come over tomorrow to help you find something."

Turns out a few months ended up being six before you finally got word from Eugene that he'd be home soon. You were ecstatic, well that was more of an understatement. Your mood improved, your smile brightened, and your heart ached less knowing Eugene would be returning home, alive. The exact date of Eugene's arrival was kept strictly between him and Sid, Eugene said he wanted it to be a surprise, which you hated. That boy was going to be the death of you as if he hadn't caused you any heart troubles already. Awaiting Eugene's arrival you tried to keep yourself busy instead of just staring out the window all day, and Eugene's mother was a huge help. It was currently a cool fall evening, you were at the Sledge household helping Mrs. Sledge do some cleaning. She was inside washing some of her glass plates and cups that she had on display in the dining room, and you were outside hanging freshly washed bedsheets, curtains, and other linens. Humming to yourself lightly, you hung up a bedsheet. The soft fabric flowing in the wind as you pinned the corners to the clothesline.

"(Y/N), dear! You have a visitor, I'm sending them out to you," Mary Frank's voice rang out from the back steps. You didn't bother shouting out a response, not wanting to try and yell across the yard. It was probably either Mary Houston or Sidney. Anytime they couldn't find you or get ahold of you, they always came here. You hang up the last sheet in your basket and smooth it out before you finally lookup. Your heart stops, and you freeze in your place. Through the sheets floating in the wind, you catch a glimpse of dark green moving towards you. Maybe I'm just seeing things, you thought.

"Gene," your voice is barely above a whisper, the words struggling to come out. The wind blows harder this time, the sheets floating through the air almost horizontal this time, and that's when you see all of him. The black shoes, the dark green pants, and coat, with a hat to match. He looks so different but just the same, all at the same time. His skin is tan, his shoulders are broader, and he stands taller than before. He makes his way to you, your breathing uneven, your hands shaking. Please don't be a dream, if it is, so help me God. Eugene stands a few feet from you now, that smile that you love so much appearing on his lips. You didn't think your heart could beat any quicker, but, oh boy, weren't you wrong.

"My mother tells me that I'd be able to find the prettiest girl in Mobile out here, you wouldn't happen to know her would ya?"

His voice was slightly deeper, rougher but it sends waves of comfort through you. A smile broke out on your face, a faint blush covering your cheeks. Before you knew it, your body lurched towards Eugene's and you had wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eugene gently pulled your head from his neck, using his thumbs to wipe the tears. "Don't waste those tears on me, I'm home now. You don't have to worry anymore darlin'."

"Ya know, Mitch Haygood kept asking me on a date at least once a month while you were gone, he made the mistake of catching me out with your mother about six months ago. Let's just say, he never asked again," you both broke out into giggles, both knowing how Eugene's mother can be.

"I'm glad she handled it so I wouldn't have to go give him a talking to when I got back. Can't have anyone stealing my girl when I'm away," Eugene replied looking down at you. He simply held you there after he spoke, just looking at you. His hands were cupped around your cheeks and jaw, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones. Your hands grip at the uniform cinched at his waist. His tongue reached out to quickly swipe across his lips. You hadn't kissed those lips in four years, and if you didn't soon you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

"You better kiss me, Eugene Sledge, before I go calling Mitch Haygood."

With a crack of that beautiful smile and a small rumble in his chest, Eugene replied, "Don't have to tell me twice, sweetheart."

#eugene sledge #eugene sledge x reader #the pacific #new writer #eugene sledge one shot #eugene sledge imagine #eugene sledge imagines #eugene #sledge #sledgehammer imagines #eugene sledgehammer sledge

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borhap-au · 4 years

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Joe Mazzello: the fluffy chronicles.

Joe Mazzello - Scars.

When your kisses became more intense Joe put the laptop away, stopping the movie. Then he got up from the bed and went to turn the lights on.

“Leave the lights off. Please,” you tried to give him a glimpse of a smile. You knew Joey wanted to make love to you, and you weren’t comfortable with him seeing your body in its full glory. You had some scars you were ashamed of and you didn’t want Joe to notice them.

He sighed quietly. It wasn’t the first time you asked him for a favor like this, in fact, you never let him turn the lights on, and when you were intimate during the day, when the sun was still high up, you used your dark curtains to make the room darker. You said it was to make the atmosphere in the room more intimate, but Joe started to figure out your reasons.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, almost whispering, while sitting on the bed next to you. “What is it? Why do you always insist on having sex in the dark?” he gently pet your leg, wanting you to feel his touch, his closeness, and his affection.

“It’s for the atmosphere,” you used the same excuse again, but this time it just couldn’t work on him.

“I know it’s not. Please tell me the truth. Did I do something wrong?” he looked at you with concern in his eyes. He wanted you to feel just as good as you always made him feel.

“No, of course not. Come on, let’s forget about it. We were in a middle of something,” you put your hand on his bare chest, and then moved it to the side of his body, trying to bring him closer to you. He was shirtless from the foreplay you two already started that was interrupted so that Joe could turn the lights on and have a good look on you that you weren’t planning to allow.

“No, I mean it. Did I hurt you somehow? Did I touch you the wrong way? I always asked you for permission. Did you give me consent without meaning it?” he started to come up with all those different theories or why you acted the way you did towards him.

“No, no, Joey. It’s none of your fault. You were always very good to me,” you reassured him, petting his cheek. You never wanted him to feel bad, as he never did anything to deserve it. He was a very sweet boyfriend and a generous lover, you had hardly anything to complain about when it came to him.

“So don’t I deserve the truth? Why do you hide it from me?” all of his questions came only from the fact he was concerned about you. He wanted to make sure everything that wasn’t alright, would soon become nothing but a memory.

“Because that’s my thing. I try to hide things so you like me better,” you muttered quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“What?” he looked at you in disbelief. “What are you trying to tell me right now?”

“I hide my body from you, so you don’t see it, at least not that well. I just don’t want you to notice… The imperfections and all,” you muttered, still looking down. He got up, and you thought he was leaving, but when you looked up, he turned the lights on.

“No, please,” you immediately hid your body under the quilt. “I’m not ready. Please.”

“Girly… You saw me. My entire body, with all the imperfections. And do you really think I’m so materialistic to care about some minor imperfections? They don’t define your value. It’s your humor, your charisma that make you who you are. Your intelligence. There’s so much more to you than some imperfections that only you notice. Please. I love you for who you are, and not for how you look like, even though for me you’re gorgeous inside out and I feel lucky to be with someone so smart and beautiful. Can I?” he asked, sitting next to you, and gently pulling the quilt. You looked at him for a while and then sighed quietly. You knew you couldn’t hide your body forever. Eventually he had to see it. So you let him put the quilt away.

To your surprise, he didn’t immediately start to look for the things you tried to hide. On the contrary, he smiled to you and focused first on your lips, kissing you passionately. He was so tender that it made you smile to yourself, while prolonging the kiss.

Then he started kissing your jawline and quickly moved his kisses to your neck. You held your breath when he began to take off your shirt, and soon after, your bra. Only then he looked at your chest. There were a few scars here and there. Some of them made on purpose, some of them accidental, and all of them made you persuade yourself that you weren’t perfect, when in Joe’s eyes you were the exact opposite. You were his perfection.

You had most of your scars on your forearms, mostly around the wrists. You always wore long sleeves, bracelets and wristbands, so that nobody could see. But today your hands were naked, and Joe could finally see everything that you’ve been hiding. He began to plant small kisses on your hands. You looked at him a bit surprised.

“You aren’t… Disgusted?” you asked unsure. He smiled to you, petting the side of your body with his thumb.

“Of course not. I would never be disgusted by you. You’re stunning,” he softly kissed your stomach and you immediately pulled in your belly. “No, don’t do that, please. I love your body the way it is. All of it. And I’m really happy I can finally see it in full light.”

He then began to take off your trousers. Legs were also a frequent victim of your razor blade. He moved his hand on your hip, feeling the uneven skin where your scars were.

“Can you promise me you’ll stop?” he spoke softly, not trying to patronize you. It was all out of care for you and honest, deep concern for your mental health.

“I’m already done with this. Those aren’t fresh. I did them all months ago. Definitely before I met you,” you reassured him. “But it doesn’t change the fact I feel awful about them.”

“All the scars are your journey. It’s what you’ve been through in your life. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, I want you to know and feel that I will always love and protect you. But what happened in the past happened, and you shouldn’t feel bad about that. It’s what made you. It’s what brought you to me. I don’t mind your scars, just like you don’t mind all the imperfections on my body. You don’t look at me counting all the things that are bad, you look at me with love. I can see that. So why can’t you see that it’s exactly how I feel about you too? This body, your body, brings me so much joy and satisfaction. Why would I hate anything about it? Your body is you. And I love you,” he started kissing your thighs, especially the places you had scars on. His lips were warm and they made you feel hot inside, because despite the conversation that has been going on, it was still Joe fucking Mazzello kissing your body. And he could’ve had anyone in the world, but yet, he wanted you, and- Exactly. He wanted you.

“And you’re going to stay…? Even though I look like this…?” you muttered quietly, unwilling to stop his kisses.

“You mean gorgeous? Wonderful? Stunning? How do you look like, girly?” he looked at you smiling. “Because you look like all those adjectives to me. I’m not going to leave you because of some imperfections only you see in yourself. I don’t care about them. I care about you, and you’ve always been good and caring towards me. You made me feel loved. You made me feel like the best, most handsome guy in the world, even though I know I’m not one. But that’s the power of your love. And I want to give you exactly the same. I want you to believe me when I say that to me, you are perfect. You’re kind-hearted and funny and you bring light to my life. You’re my sunshine.”

“And you’re my moon and stars,” you smiled and kissed his head, leaning towards him. He smiled too.

“Where you see scars, I see hands that pet my body, make me feel good, give the best handjobs I ever had and trust me, I mean it,” you blushed when you heard that, but you couldn’t hide a smile. “You see scars, but I see stomach that I lay my head on when I felt bad, and you moved your fingers through my hair, calming me down. You see scars, but I see the legs that are not only sexy, but also strong enough to make you walk miles with me on our trips. I see not only the body that turns me on and gives me incredible pleasure, but also the person who this body belongs to. I see kindness, love, friendship. And no, I don’t love you despite the imperfections. I love you because of them. Because every single part of you makes you who you are, and that’s the person I fell in love with. I understand you may feel insecure, but I really hope I’ll be able to help you overcome your problems. Please, don’t ever think again that I’m shallow enough to break up with you because of any of those things you see when you look in the mirror that made you unsure of yourself. I’m sure of you, and I’m sure of us. You should feel like a strong, confident, badass woman that you are. And I want to do anything that’s in my power to make you feel that way,” at the end of the sentence he took your underwear off.

His lips soon wandered around your labia, kissing them, licking, and taking care of your clit with his tongue and lips. While he was doing all of that, his words resonated with you. While your body was filled with enormous pleasure, your mind revised his message. While his hands gently wandered around your body, while he was softly petting your body, your scars, you felt more loved and cared for than ever before. Only then you realized that this situation was exactly the opposite of what you thought would happen. Your fear made you unable to see how much Joe loved you, how much he wanted to make you happy. You felt better about your body now than ever before. Because you saw him treating it with such love and worship, because you realized he doesn’t mind all of the things you managed to convince yourself were too big and hideous for him to see you as sexy. You tried to hide from him, but actually, if he was able to see you long ago, your journey toward self-acceptance would have started long ago. And of course, it was not the end of it, it was just the beginning. But it was the first time you ever felt that maybe you aren’t that bad, that maybe you can be loved exactly for who you are.

Joe was being extra gentle with you. He made sure to kiss and touch every part of your body, so you were aware of it, but not ashamed of it. Of course he was worried about your mental health, because he wanted you to feel happy, and to never again feel the need to scar yourself. But the scars in itself were nothing he couldn’t live with. Actually, he didn’t mind them at all, as long as they were a memory of the past, not fresh signs you’re unwell again. He wanted you to feel good and safe with him.

You didn’t want to be on top, not that night. You already felt exposed, it was definitely enough for one day. But you felt really good when you two did it in the missionary position, with him being on you, protecting you, as if you were under his wings (after all, he was your guardian angel). He pet your cheek and smiled, admiring you. His thrusts were slow and gentle, he was being very careful with you that night, almost as if it was the first time you two ever had sex together. You didn’t mind that at all actually. You felt appreciated, especially when he planted kisses all over your face, making you chuckle. After sex, when he lay down next to you on the bed, he let you hide your body under the quilt. It was enough for one day, he didn’t want you to feel too exposed. But for you it didn’t feel like a necessity anymore, you didn’t immediately cover yourself up like you used to. That night you covered both of you, and simply hugged him. He smiled and kissed your head. That night you went to sleep without clothes on, and you let him pet your body under the quilt. It was just a beginning, but it was a step in the right direction on the journey of self-acceptance.

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lovinmullen · 4 years

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time had no meaning; life had no meaning. the fierce struggle for survival in the abyss of Peleliu eroded the veneer of civilization and made savages of us all.

#gosh the eeriness of the third shot... the way he feels lost as though hes a stranger in his own home #the unfimilar look in his eye #the restlessness #the idea hes back at the house but hes not at home his minds still at the war #he can’t adjust #you done good with this one mr speilberg #tom stop making loads of sub par edits challange: failed #eugene sledge #joe mazzello #sledgehammer #hbo war #the pacific #my edit

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oh-ranpo · 5 years

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help you fight your demons {Eugene Sledge}

AN: I wasn’t sure that I would write a Eugene one-shot, and yet here I am. I’ve been so soft for him ever since watching the Pacific, and this was the best that I could do. I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think!

The nightmares were the worst part. When they had first started, you hadn’t known what to do. Eugene’s father had warned you not to touch him or startle him in any way because he could lash out, but you hated seeing him in such distress. His screaming would always wake you, and then his thrashing back and forth would make it impossible for you to fall asleep until it was over. The first couple of nights, you just let him ride out the nightmare. By the end, your pillow was soaked with tears of your own, feeling completely helpless in the suffering your love was going through.

By the third and fourth night, you had started talking to him. You knew that you couldn’t touch him, but you had hoped that even just the faintest sound of your voice might help. You had been right. As soon as his night terrors would start, you would roll over so that you were facing him, and you would speak in low, comforting tones, eventually drawing him out of whatever dark place he had sunk into. You could see as the sound of your voice drifted into his subconscious, because the muscles in his face would start to relax, and he wouldn’t move around nearly as much. You would wait until he stilled completely before leaning forward to place a kiss against his sweat-covered forehead, your heart still aching.

You weren’t sure if Eugene knew about your nightly routines or not, but he could always tell that he had kept you awake when he would see your disheveled appearance in the morning. His expression would droop when he would see your red-rimmed eyes and the dark circles across the tops of your cheeks.

“It happened again, didn’t it?” he asked one morning, his fingers gently brushing over your temple and down around your jawline. Your eyes met his and you gave him your best smile, not wanting him to worry even for a second.

“It’s fine, Gene. I promise.”

He didn’t look convinced as his eyes kept running over your face, the exhaustion evident in your smile. You could see the sadness in his eyes, and your hand reached up to grasp his that had come to rest along your collarbone.

“I wish I could… I wish I could just turn it off,” he mumbled, his eyes falling away from yours and fixating on your now intertwined hands.

“Seriously, darling, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I love you, no matter what.”

Eugene was quiet for the rest of the day, retreating to his chair in the front lawn to watch the birds. It was where he went when he needed to think, and you didn’t dare disturb him until you went out onto the porch to call him in for dinner. Even while eating he was unnaturally quiet, and as soon as he was finished, he retreated back into his bedroom.

You knew that his parents had been worried about him since he came back. It was undeniable that he was different, but that was something that had expected from the war. Ultimately, they were just happy to have him back in one piece, but it got hard at times to get him to open up, which weighed heavily on everyone involved. The only person he really seemed to open up to was Sidney, which made sense considering he had been through similar traumas.

Once the dishes were cleared, you quietly excused yourself to check on Eugene. It was still early so you knew he wouldn’t be sleeping, but when you walked into the room, you could only make out a small lump on the bed. The covers were pulled up all the way to his ears, and he had his back to the door so you couldn’t see his face. You could faintly see the blankets shaking in the low light, and as you got closer you could hear his sniffles. Your heart lurched as you took a seat on the edge of the bed, your hand reaching out to pat his side.

“Eugene, sweetheart, are you okay?”

He didn’t come out from under the blanket, but you could feel it rise and fall dramatically under your hand as he took a deep breath. You didn’t want him to shut down on you anymore. You wanted him to talk, so when he didn’t immediately come out, you gently pulled back the covers so that you could see him better.

His eyes were still shiny with freshly shed tears, and your stomach dropped at the devastated look on his face. You started to regret leaving him alone with his thoughts for so long, because he often had the tendency to tear himself apart in his quiet moments. You had just hoped that maybe he was getting better.

“Honey, please talk to me,” you cooed, brushing the hair that was stuck to his forehead away and cupping his cheek gently. His brown eyes had been staring blankly in front of him, but they slowly panned up to meet yours as your thumb brushed across his cheek.

“I’m broken,” he croaked, immediately making you feel nauseous. He maintained strong eye contact, completely certain that what he was saying was true. You shook your head vigorously, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Genie, you are not broken. You experienced a trauma that most humans could never even begin to comprehend. You-“

“I’m weak, and you deserve better,” he interjected, his voice growing in volume as he became more upset. Your thumb stilled its movements and you stared down at him, your mouth opening and closing without a sound. You were dumbstruck at the fact that he had allowed himself to sink so far as to think that you would even consider leaving him over something that he couldn’t control.

“Listen to me, Eugene Sledge,” you started firmly, your hand moving from his face to find his hand under the blanket and squeezing it. “You are the strongest man I know. And don’t you ever, even for a second, think that I could go out there and find someone that I would love half as much as I love you.”

You were furious, but not at him. You were furious at the war, the circumstances, and everything else that had taken the happy man that you had fallen in love with and turned him into someone who thought that he was unworthy of even the slightest bit of affection.

You knew that you were squeezing his hand tighter than you should have, but at this point, you didn’t care. Eugene didn’t make any effort to pull away, instead he kept staring up at you, his eyes wide and puffy, not saying a word.

The two of you remained in silence for a bit longer with you continuing to stare down at him, as if daring him to argue with you. You knew that deep down, leaving was the last thing he wanted you to do. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

“I love you,” he squeaked as a new tear rolled down his cheek. You gave him a soft smile as you brushed the tear away, and placed a soft kiss where it used to be. You left a trail of kisses across his cheek, eventually landing on his lips. It was a quick, sweet kiss, and when you pulled away, the first smile you had seen on his face all day spread across his lips.

“I’m here to help you fight all your demons, Gene. Don’t you forget it.” You gently booped his nose with your free hand to the last few words, and Eugene nodded in understanding.

Using the hand that was wrapped around yours, he pulled you down to lay beside him, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his torso. His head fit perfectly in the space between your head and your shoulder, and you slowly carded your hand through his hair as you felt his breathing start to even out. It was the first night he didn’t have a nightmare, and you didn’t let him go until he woke up the next morning.

Permanent Tag List: @dreamer821 @haileylansley @aylinnmaslow @yourealegendroger @gotnofeelgotnorhythm @justgivemethekeys @mads459 @trickster-may @taylorroger-s @mercurys-bike @ksqueenie @musiccureseverythinglove @mespetitestortues @tomhollandsquackson @secretsweetscollectionblog @jennycidesstuff @ladycataztrophe @tini-monster @hoemazzelloo @ceeeece @discodeakyy @burt-macklin-fbi @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @theonlyone-meeeee @chocolatekisses8 @gwilymswife

#joe mazzello #eugene sledge #one shot #joe mazzello x reader #eugene sledge x reader #the pacific #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello angst #love #fluff #war #trauma #angst

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ra-lek · 5 years

Note

feel free to ignore this but i want to ask if you read ff? Or do you have any fic recs? (Specifically sledgefu and tyrelliot haha im obsessed) thank you!!! :)

yea i do! although i gotchu covered in the sledgefu department, i can't say i've read much tyrelliot? so hopefully someone else can help you there!

- "let the stars be my seabreeze" by @getmean [finished, 1chapter] - i just love this author and how they write in general, so you could check out their ao3 collection of sledgefu! ("a blue million miles" is a great currently ongoing fic that i've yet to catch up on) but this one is my favorite by far! it makes me feel feelings & the boys're v soft❤

- "what do we do now" by all-of-the-ships-are-sailing [finished, 15chapters] - this one is an emotional angst-driven but very fluffy rollercoaster! i managed to finish it all in about 24 hours cause i just. couldn't stop reading. it's very well written and in character, highly recommended!!

- "good company" by amclove [ongoing] - my current obsession. it's a perfect college au + fake relationship combo alongside some top notch characterization & writing! seriously the dialogue in this one is crazy good. check it out!

- "we seek no conquest" by dome_epais [finished, 1chapter] - fuck i just really like this one?? i don't have much to say other than it's very snafu & i enjoyed it a lot!! super fun to read! and hey sometimes you just need that

- and of course no sledgefu fic rec post is complete without "the history books forgot about us (and the bible didn't mention us)" by callmejude [finished, 20chapters] - warning, this one will kick you in the shin and steal your firstborn.

#im not gonna lie it was absolute torture trying to pick these out #there are so many great one shots ive read but i couldn't just make this post a highway long #so if you're looking for anything more /specific/ don't hesitate to ask #sledgefu #merriell snafu shelton #eugene sledge #shutupneil

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floralfloyd · 2 years

Text

Masterlist

Started: 8th April 2020

Last Updated: 01/03/2022

Works: 25

Characters

Band of Sisters - The OFC's of Easy Company Masterlist

Band of Brothers

George Luz

Sentimental Journey (George Luz x OFC)

Chuck Grant

Get Well Soon (Chuck Grant x OFC)

Joe Liebgott

A Seargent's Sorrow (Joe Liebgott x OFC Platonic)

Edward ‘Babe’ Heffron

Dick Winters

Floyd Talbert

Frostbite and Kisses (Floyd Talbert x OFC)

Bill Guarnere

Lewis Nixon

Cold Ice, Warm Hearts (Lewis Nixon x OFC)

The Pacific

Bill ‘Hoosier’ Smith

Robert Leckie

War is Over (Robert Leckie x Reader)

Lew ‘Chuckler’ Jurgens

Eugene Sledge

Andrew ‘Ack Ack’ Haldane

Nolan Hemmings

Jamie Finn (Heartbeat)

Young Love (Jamie Finn x OFC)

Jacob Pitts (Coming Soon)

Deputy Marshall Tim Gutterson (Justified)

Cooper Harris (Eurotrip)

Bill ‘Hoosier’ Smith (The Pacific)

Gwilym Lee

A Field of Flowers (Samuel Castell):

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue (Coming Soon)

Since I’ve Been Loving You (Gwilym Lee)

A Winter’s Tale (Gwilym Lee)

Queen

Confidence (Brian May x Reader)

Dreamers Ball Part 1 (Brian May x Reader)

Pink Floyd

Tears Like Raindrops (David Gilmour x Reader)

If there’s someone not on the list above that you would like a one-shot, series, or even blurb about, feel free to ask my inbox and I’ll happily include them if I can. I’m always expanding my genres and characters so keep an eye out.

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freebooter4ever · 3 years

Text

Living in close quarters for months on end with a bunch of men his own age doesn't bother Snafu a bit. It's the one part of the Marines Corps he actually enjoys. Like living on an island full of eye candy. Snafu became mostly numb to the sheer number of naked butts by the end of his second day on Pavuvu. With the heat and the sun, the men need very little provocation to strip their clothing off. It was distracting for about an hour and then it became commonplace.

Later, after Gloucester, after living for three straight weeks in rain and misery, under the constant threat of violent death, and then returning once more to Pavuvu, Snafu becomes numb to everything....

He's never been one for carousing - a trait his peers in high school picked up on pretty quick. He's been compensating ever since. Packing on the innuendo and flirtation, and studying how other men act towards women and amplifying it in his own behavior.

So even before the numbness set in, Snafu isn't sure he ever actually felt anything like what others seem to describe. Even though Snafu admires his daily fill of half dressed fellow Marines wandering around camp, he does it in a detached sort of way that makes him feel more like an observer than participant. And it's good, because while there are whispers and rumors about certain guys who will take a man into the woods and show him a good time, Snafu doesn't need to get involved. He gets himself into enough trouble without adding a court martial onto it.

A few days after Gloucester an envelope arrives. There's no letter, simply a newspaper clipping slipped inside and stamped. The clipping is from his hometown newspaper and the article is about their hometown hero - brave Merriell Shelton - who shot up the enemy with his 'mortar gun'.

It's truly amazing how in a small town such as his, one can go from being the delinquent orphan son of impoverished half crazed parents easily forgotten by polite society, to being a hometown hero in the span of one battle.

Everyone in K company teases him about the article, especially about the 'mortar gun' bit. Snafu enjoys it immensely. He takes pride in his notoriety. It adds to his carefully cultivated mystique. No one wants to fuck with the fast talking, mean Merriell Shelton, war hero.

In actuality, Snafu is no hero. He fights for one reason, and that's the fifty dollars a month being sent home to his kid sister. He doesn't want her saddled with being a burden to her adopted family. Not like Snafu was with their own parents.

Overall, aside from the numbness, everything about Snafu's time in the Marine Corps is going well. He has respect, he has the looming potential of death and relief, and he has a steady diet of filling if questionable food. He thinks he's got a handle on things.

Till his downfall arrives a few days after the envelope.

Eugene Sledge looks like a fool from the minute he steps into Snafu's tent. Something about him irritates the hell out of Snafu. To try and figure out what about Sledge bothers him so much, Snafu goes out of his way to run into the guy. But no dice. Nothing works.

It doesn't click until Snafu accidentally runs into Sledge in the showers. Normally Snafu showers on off times to avoid any accidents. But after one particularly disgusting round of coconut duty, Snafu is stuck washing the gritty stickiness off in the middle of the day.

At first there's just him and Pops in the showers. A typical sight - Gunney Haney is obsessively clean. Snafu ignores him, and ignores the new Boots who join them halfway through. Snafu requires single minded focus to fish out all the coconut pieces that mysteriously found their way into his hair.

Once finished, Snafu turns around and bends his head back under the stream of water to rinse. He opens his eyes after the worst of the suds are gone, and spots Eugene Sledge in the group of new recruits. They are huddled around the shower heads in the opposite corner as far away from Snafu and Pops as they can get. Snafu smirks at them as a greeting.

It's kinda fun being intimidating.

Except they aren't paying attention to him. Sledge's eyes are transfixed on Haney as the man scrubs his dick.

Admittedly, for the uninitiated, seeing Haney shower is quite a sight. The man uses a bristly GI brush. The working theory is that he's been doing it so long and he's so old that his skin is pickled enough to be as thick and tough as leather. Everyone stares and winces in pain when they first witness Haney washing his junk.

However, Sledge is unusually engrossed. Snafu feels a strange prickle at the back of his neck and a spike of annoyance over this.

Jealousy - a word Snafu's never related to before.

Once he recognizes the feeling, though, he starts seeing it everywhere. Sledge is genuinely kind, and cares about everyone in a way that would stretch Snafu thin enough to break. Sledge is the best sharpshooter in the company, beating Snafu's considerable score by almost an entire point. Sledge takes every work duty thrown at him without complaint and with stubborn pride. Sledge takes everything thrown at him without complaint, including Snafu's own malice.

And all Snafu wants is for Sledge to just fucking look at him.

The tipping point comes after Sledge's little buddy Philips rotates home without warning. The despondency Sledge sinks into for a few days makes Snafu ache with frustration. Sledge starts disappearing whenever the replacements get an hour or two off. Snafu makes it his mission to find him.

He eventually does. Turns out Sledge is running off to a secluded beach, but he never goes in the water. Instead he sits crosslegged in the sand and stares at crabs. Snafu shimmies up a palm tree and scoots across the rough bark until he's nearly hanging over the oblivious Sledge.

In Sledge's lap is a dog-eared notebook, probably a moonlight requisition from the officer's tents. Sledge hunches over the page, his hand scribbling furiously and Snafu cranes his neck till he can see what Sledge is working on.

It's drawings of crabs. Countless pages of them. Snafu straddles the uncomfortable palm tree for almost an hour, watching in disbelief as Sledge makes study after study of crab anatomy.

Instead of killing the damn invasive creatures with a shovel and burying them in the sand, Sledge draws them.

If Snafu could draw, maybe he'd finally be free of this strange fascination that's taken hold of him. The image of Sledge that one afternoon - showering, naked and lean and glowing in the midafternoon sun - burned itself in Snafu's brain. He doesn't know how to purge himself of it. At the time, he didn't even realize he'd been looking that closely at Sledge while they were in the showers, but afterwards his brain pieced the scraps of memory together and gave him a picture more vivid than what he thought he saw.

And now he sees it whenever he looks at Sledge.

Even on Peleliu, after everything's gone to shit, but somehow they got off the beach and somehow they're not dead yet, his mind drifts to Sledge. The boy strips off his shoes in the midst of battle. Snafu stops him, shoving Sledge's boots back into his chest with force.

It's the first time he lays hands on Sledge and he doesn't even register it because he's too busy being worried about the damn idiot being caught with his pants down and shoes off.

Sledge is a distraction. That's all he is.

Until Sledge fucking picks Snafu up off the ground even when Snafu is pretty sure he's already dead. Sledge drags Snafu out of his shock and out of danger, and proves he can keep his cool during battle. Cooler even than Snafu, who still runs hot whenever Sledge gets too close.

Naive little Sledgehammer grew up quick, but unlike Snafu, he did not grow up mean - he still saves worthless things fallen helpless in the sand and dirt. From that minute on, Snafu makes it his personal mission to preserve Eugene's goodness.

He doesn't anticipate Sledgehammer accepting Snafu's newfound loyalty so readily.

Burgie calls Snafu out on it teasingly during their ship ride back to dreaded Pavuvu. A painful bout of seasickness causes Snafu to lose track of Sledgehammer for a few hours aboard ship, and Snafu spends the time wandering the decks in search of him.

"Since when did you appoint yourself as his shadow, Snaf?" Burgie retorts when Snafu asks if he's seen the 'Hammer'.

"Just need to collect on my bet about him smoking by the end of his first battle," Snafu shrugs.

"Every nonsmoker smokes by the end of their first battle, Snafu. You already knew that," Burgie says, "Leave him be."

"No way," Snafu argues, "Someone needs to teach that rich boy that he don't know everything."

"And of course you'd be the one to do it," Burgie sighs.

Ironically, Sledge is the one to find Snafu in a random ship compartment instead of the other way around. Snafu is lying prone, trying to keep his half digested meal from rolling around.

"Here," Sledge says, shoving a small box at Snafu as hard as Snafu shoved Eugene's boots.

"What is it?" Snafu asks, feigning disinterest.

"Crackers. They'll help with the stomach," Sledge replies, "C'mon, let's get you topside."

"How the hell'd you get crackers on a ship short of rations?" Snafu asks. He obediently follows Eugene through the ship to the deck. Like a damn shadow.

"I sweet talked one of the swabbies," Sledge explains casually.

That news roils Snafu's gut. Jealousy again. It's lucky they made it to the deck. He staggers to the rail and pukes overboard.

"The swabby liked my accent," Eugene says and leans beside Snafu, "Think he was from northern Alabama. I told him how us southern boys have the best aim in the Marines."

Snafu finishes vomiting up the last of his afternoon chow.

Sledge sighs and places his hand on Snafu's upper back.

Snafu's glad no one else is around on this part of the deck to see his shame. He hangs on the rail and feels miserable.

"Get it all out?" Sledge asks, and passes Snafu his canteen.

Snafu takes a sip, swishes it around his mouth, and spits into the sea. And then guzzles as much water as he thinks he can keep down. He sticks his tongue out at the disgusting aftertaste and hands the canteen back.

Sledge runs his hand down from Snafu's back to his arm. Before Snafu knows what's happening Eugene is gently taking Snafu's hand and leading him away from the rail. Sledge sits on the deck and leans against the ship's wall. He tugs on Snafu's hand for him to sit next to him.

"Better to go down to one of the cabins," Snafu resists.

"You don't want to know how bad it smells down there," Sledge warns, "Trust me. Fresh air is best."

Snafu gives in and collapses next to Eugene. He tilts his head back against the cold metal and closes his eyes.

Sledge takes the box of saltines from Snafu's hands and Snafu hears rustling as Sledge opens the package. Sledge then nudges Snafu's elbow with the box.

"Eat," Sledge says.

Snafu groans and leans his head on Sledgehammer's shoulder instead. He doesn't want any ill-gotten flirtation crackers. It's a lot easier to close his eyes and pretend to sleep.

Sledge seems to not mind Snafu sleeping on him. He doesn't move away, at least. So Snafu uses it as an excuse to shuffle closer. Which is when he realizes Eugene never let go of his hand. He's still holding on. Tight.

"Snafu?" Sledge prompts. He uses Snafu's nickname like they're best buds, though they've hardly ever spoken.

Snafu grunts.

"On that airfield…" Sledge says, "Don't you ever dare do that again, allright?"

"Whatever you say, Sledgehammer," Snafu drawls, "Don't even know what I did."

"You just...lay there," Sledge says quietly, "Like you were...."

"Waiting?" Snafu tries to remember his own state of mind in that moment.

"Gone," Sledge says sharply.

"Same damn thing," Snafu gives up on sleeping and lights a cigarette.

"If you're not around who'll tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Sledge asks.

"Shit, Sledge," Snafu drawls with a grin, "practically anybody who's not you could do that."

Sledge actually chuckles. That's the thing about Eugene. He's not stuck up or prissy like Snafu'd expect him to be. He's humble, and willing to laugh at his own inexpertise.

"I'd rather it be you," Eugene adds quietly with a small smile.

Snafu sucks on his bottom lip and refuses to respond to that.

"So no dying," Eugene finishes, as if such a conclusion were a choice.

Snafu does fall asleep and when he wakes up a few hours later, Sledge's head is tipped on top of Snafu's. Sledge's long nose is in Snafu's hair and he's snoring loud enough to wake the enemy a thousand miles away. Snafu can feel Eugene's snores blowing his hair around.

Despite these annoyances, Snafu tries to freeze in place and jostle Eugene as little as possible.

Their hands are still linked together. Sledge's hand is wrapped tight around Snafu's. Snafu lifts Sledge's hand to examine his delicate fingers - long and gentle, but not dainty. Eugene has the calluses of an expert marksman, and painfully short fingernails. Snafu picks at the boy's ring curiously.

Sledge shifts and turns farther in towards Snafu's body. He draws his arm away from Snafu's fiddling and instead places his hand on Snafu's soft belly. "Stop moving," he mumbles.

"You stop snoring," Snafu complains. He bumps his head intentionally into Sledge's big nose to make his point.

Sledge ignores him and slumps more of his weight onto Snafu's shoulder.

Snafu accepts his fate and reaches over Sledge's body to steal the saltines. He opens the cracker package and starts snacking.

"Must you, with the crunching?" Sledge snarls after a few minutes.

"Got hungry, Sledgehammer," Snafu, "If you're gonna be using me as a pillow, I'm gonna need to generate extra padding."

Sledge sighs and holds his hand out, "Give me one."

Snafu complies, "If you get crumbs in my hair, I'll kill ya."

"Wouldn't be the worst thing in your hair right now, Snafu," Sledge gripes.

"Yeah? What else is up there? Pick it out for me," Snafu grins.

"Smells like you took a nap in seawater," Sledge says, "Or smoke."

"Get your long nose out of my hair then," Snafu quips.

"Once you get past the brine smell it's not so bad," Sledge mutters and doesn't move

"Yeah, well your shoulder smells like…" Snafu starts, and then cuts off when he realizes Eugene's shoulder doesn't smell like anything Snafu finds unpleasant. "Did you change your shirt?"

"Traded it for the saltines," Sledge explains, "The swabby wanted a souvenir that saw battle. I gave it to him. Stole this one off a supply crate."

"Fuck, Eugene, I thought you flirted your way into the galley," Snafu grumbles.

"Who says taking off my shirt wasn't a part of that?"

Snafu can't see it with his head on Sledge's shoulder but he swears Gene is smirking at him. "Should have just given him your pin," Snafu argues.

"Can't," Eugene replies, "Sid says they're good luck."

Snafu rolls his eyes at the mention of stupid Sid and settles back comfortably to sleep.

Eugene hooks a thumb in between Snafu's button holes in his shirt to keep his hand on Snafu's stomach. His fingertips barely brush Snafu's bare skin, and suddenly Snafu is no longer interested in sleeping.

And then Eugene's wandering fingers hit Snafu's shrapnel wound.

His response is immediate and a little shocking, "What the fuck, Snafu?" Without asking Eugene starts popping open all of Snafu's shirt buttons.

"What the hell, Sledge?" Snafu tries to back away from him.

"My father's a physician, let me look at you," Eugene orders. He manhandles Snafu's hips forward away from the wall to stretch him out on the deck. Snafu's thin wound runs from right beside his belly button to right over his hip. "Jesus, Snaf, that could turn infected."

Snafu is still trying to process the feel of Eugene's long hands gripping his hips, there is no room in his brain for worrying about infections right now.

"You're gonna need to lie down," Eugene tells him, "Here…" Sledge takes off his shirt and folds it up so Snafu doesn't have to rest his head on the floor.

"Thanks," Snafu says blankly.

"I thought it didn't hit you, you idiot?" Eugene asks.

"Naw, it hit me," Snafu smiles, "just didn't kill me."

"Wait here, I need a kit," Sledge gets up and walks off, leaving Snafu on his own.

Snaf uncomfortably folds his open shirt closed and crosses his arms over his chest self-consciously. He hopes no one will accidentally walk past this part of the ship while Snafu is stuck laying here like a patient. It takes far too long for Sledge to return.

When Eugene does finally return, he's holding a big medic kit that definitely is going to be missed somewhere.

"What'd you have to take off to get that?" Snafu asks, his voice mean, "Your pants?"

"I'll return it when I'm done," Sledge tells him in a no nonsense tone. He sets the kit down and flips it open. "I'll need to open the waist of your pants though, do you mind?"

Snafu looks to the sky to avoid Sledge's concerned gaze. "Don't care," Snafu says as nonchalantly as he is able. He wets his lips and squeezes his eyes shut.

Sledge gently uncrosses Snafu's arms and moves them to the side. When Sledge unbuttons Snafu's pants, Snafu takes a deep breath. His stomach constricts, and he knows his bones are poking out embarrassingly far. Sledge's hands are warm and surprisingly soft. Cleaning everything, and putting a tiny amount of stitches near Snafu's waistband area doesn't take Sledge long at all. Before Snafu even gets to fully enjoy the feeling of Eugene's fingers sliding over his most sensitive area, Eugene is already buttoning Snafu's pants back up and smoothing his shirt down. Snafu flicks the shirt back off, deciding if he's already indecent he might as well continue that way.

Snafu moves to sit up, but Sledge puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay down for a bit," Sledge says, "I want my shirt back though. Here." He scoots next to the wall at Snafu's head and then helps Snafu lean forward enough that Sledge can reclaim his stolen shirt. Sledge throws the shirt on and then scoots closer again, beckoning Snafu to lay back down.

Having his head in Sledge's lap is about a thousand times more distracting than Eugene touching his skin. There was a medical excuse for that. There's no goddamn excuse for this.

As if reading Snafu's mind, Sledge decides to up the ante and he runs his hand along the clean skin beside Snafu's wound. Sledge's hand continues up to Snafu's chest and then stops. Sledge picks at a brown spot of dried mud below Snafu's sternum till it pops off and he can flick it away onto the deck. He then massages away the sting and leaves his hand resting there.

Snafu daringly rests his own hand on top of Sledge's. He doesn't breathe even once till they're both settled and Eugene doesn't pull away.

"You need a shower, Snafu," Sledge comments.

"You gonna give me one?" Snafu lolls his head so he can see Sledge's face.

"Only way to do that now would be to toss you off the ship," Sledge says seriously.

"That a no?" Snafu guesses.

Sledge glances down at Snafu with his signature 'I know better than you, but I am also amused' expression, and then stares blankly out towards the sea. He sighs, "Sleep off the seasickness. I promise I won't snore."

Snafu silently watches Eugene's profile for a while before he finally closes his eyes.

Sledge keeps his promise. He doesn't fall asleep once during the entire time Snafu is out. Sledge does, however, eventually remove his hand from atop Snafu's chest and that wakes Snafu up instantly.

Snafu stays perfectly still, and tries to breathe as even as possible. He doesn't want Sledge to notice he's awake and kick Snafu out of his lap.

Snafu carefully peeks one eye open, and sees two hands hovering above his head holding a book and pencil.

"Writing again?" Snafu accuses.

"Hmmm," Sledge says.

"What about?" Snafu asks.

"You," Sledge responds.

Snafu smiles. He knows Sledge is just being obtuse and not actually writing about him, but still, "Tell me."

"No," Sledge refuses.

Snafu eyes Sledge's hands and attempts to determine how much force it would take for him to grab the book away.

"If you take this bible from me, I'll never let you sleep on me again," Sledge warns.

"What makes you think that's a threat?" Snafu teases. He sits up and tries to lean over to read Sledge's writing.

"Because you slept like a baby during your nap," Sledge says. He angles the book away from Snafu's prying eyes.

"Plenty of other guys in the company more comfortable than you to sleep on, Sledgehammer," Snafu says.

Sledge looks Snafu straight in the eye and dares him, "Then why don't you go find them?"

Snafu holds his gaze for a few breaths. And then wordlessly puts his head back in Eugene's lap.

Sledge calmly sets down his pencil and book, and threads his hand into Snafu's hair instead. "You know what I miss?" Sledge idly scratches Snafu's head as he talks, "Having an inexhaustible supply of blank paper."

"I still don't understand how you've managed to hold onto that one pencil nub for so long," Snafu comments. If talking means Sledge will massage his head, Snafu will do anything to carry this conversation.

"Writing in my bible is well and good, but nothing compares to a fresh blank sheet," Sledge states, "I can't believe that in school I used to tear pages up, or throw them away if I made even one typewriter mistake."

"We should find you a new pencil," Snafu continues his own train of thought, "Or maybe a couple."

"What a waste," Sledge sighs over his stupid crumpled typewriter pages.

"I bet the officers' tent in camp has pencils," Snafu muses.

"You need to borrow a pencil?" Sledge asks, "Sorry, I wasn't listening for a minute. Here, take mine." He hands Snafu the tiny nubby remains.

"Thanks, Sledgehammer," Snafu says and sticks the pencil behind his ear to remind himself later.

The first thing Snafu does on Pavuvu is go scrounging for paper. The constant stream of people coming in and out of the officer's tents makes it particularly easy to search. Snafu gets five pencils on only one run. He doesn't dare take the brand new stacks of paper. It would be too obviously missed. Instead he hunts through trash bins around the camp, and pulls out anything that looks clean and innocuous.

Snafu figures any important classified documents are being shredded or burned immediately anyway. No chance of him accidentally picking up something he shouldn't.

It takes a few days, but finally Snafu hits the jackpot. An entire stack of half used blank sheet notebooks. They're spiral bound, and the edges are dirty, and the covers don't look particularly pretty. But the pages inside are clean. Snafu takes his stack behind the mess tent and scrubs off some of the dirt stains.

A few of the notebooks are too gross to be salvageable. For these he carefully cleans his knife, and cuts out the crisp pages individually.

When he's finished he leaves his collection on Sledge's cot with the pencils resting on top of everything. Satisfied, Snafu takes a step back and surveys his work. Then realizes he can't let it look like he is doing Gene any favors. He sticks his hands out and musses the papers completely so the stacks are no longer neat and the pages aren't ordered by type. But he leaves the pencils on top. He doesn't want them to get lost or sat on.

At first Sledge doesn't say anything about Snafu's gift. The next time Snafu stops by the empty tent, the paper and notebooks are neatly stacked on a high shelf to keep it out of the way of crabs and vermin. It warms Snafu to see how organized the messy pile he left became. Even the pencils are safe and snug wrapped in a little handmade pouch.

Snafu takes the warm feeling with him to chow that evening.

"Did you wake up on the right side of the bed for once, Snaf?" Burgie asks.

Snafu brushes his comments off with a smile and sarcastic look.

Sledge looks up the minute he realizes Snafu is sitting down. "Hey," he says eloquently.

"Hey," Snafu says back. He sets his tray down and pulls out his cigarettes.

"I swear you smoke more than you eat," Sledge observes. He eyes Snafu's still mostly full and cooling plate of food.

"I only put things in my mouth if it's worth the bother," Snafu tells him, smirking.

"Are you saying warm mush isn't worth it?" Bill jokes as he polishes off his own bowl heartily.

Snafu laughs at Bill's graceless eating, till he realizes Eugene is staring. Not at Bill, but at Snafu. And looking very mournful for some reason. Unable to stand seeing Eugene looking that way, Snafu anxiously extends his hand to touch Sledge's knuckles, and then offers him a smoke.

"No thanks, Snafu," Sledge says, very unfriendly and possibly looking to start a fight, "I prefer to eat my meals."

"Has anyone gotten any letters from home yet?" Burgie changes the subject brightly.

Bill shakes his head.

"Nothing but my mother's usual package," Sledge says. He notices Snafu staring at him with quiet interest and adds with a sigh, "Yes, Snafu, I saved you your favorite jar."

Snafu smiles, "See, always worth it to wait." He grabs his unused spoon off the table and slips it into his pants for later.

"Sid still hasn't written to tell me if he made it home okay," Sledge says with a worried frown.

"I'm sure he did," Burgie says kindly.

"What about you, Burg?" Snafu interrupts, "You hear anything from Florence lately?"

"She's written, yes," Burgie says and turns as red as the canned beets Sledge's mother mailed last week.

Snafu whistles, Leyden begs Burgie to read any exciting bits aloud, and Sledge politely asks who Florence is.

"Burgie's girl he met in Australia after Gloucester," Snafu explains.

"I knew she liked me because she was the only girl not flocking around Snaf," Burgie jokes.

"Like flies to shit?" Bill snaps, "Snafu being the shit 'n ass."

"Don't think he slept in the stadium bunks with the rest of us even once," Jay laughs.

"I had more worthwhile places to go," Snafu says and eyes Sledge to gauge his reaction. He lazily takes a drag on his cigarette.

"Think we'll be given liberty in Australia again sometime?" Sledge asks. He holds Snafu's gaze steady.

"Don't care," Snafu shrugs.

"Unfortunately no," Burgie says, "I suspect we'll be run ragged till this war is over."

"At least she writes you," Bill interjects, "You'll just have to skip over thataway and pick her up before going home at the end of all this."

"Not sure how I'll manage that," Burgie takes a deep breath, "But it's true, I think she felt as strongly as I did. She expresses it well in her letters."

Bill whines that Burgie is holding out on his buddies by not divulging the content of said letters. He and Burgie get into a heated discussion that mostly consists of Bill begging and wallowing in self pity over not having any sweethearts.

Snafu and Eugene ignore them. Once Sledge finishes his meal, Snafu offers his cigarette again, and Sledge accepts. They pass it back and forth as they watch the sunset over the beach in the distance. Snafu wallows in every single touch of their fingers during each exchange.

"Speaking of mail," Sledge starts, "Snafu, did you leave paper on my bunk?"

"Why would I leave paper on your bunk?" Snafu scoffs.

"I thought maybe you were writing a letter and forgot it, or something?" Sledge asks, as though he isn't smart enough to put two and two together. No one accidentally leaves a jumble of notebooks lying around. Not when they're such a hard commodity to find.

Bill barks a laugh "Snafu writing? Can you imagine...that'd be the day."

"The only paper I ever concern myself with is asswipe," Snafu taunts. He dangles his cigarette out of his mouth and smirks at Leyden. Snafu throws one cautious glance over to Sledge and immediately regrets it.

Instead of being grateful, Sledge is annoyed. He snatches the cigarette straight out of Snafu's mouth. Sledge's fingers press into Snafu's lips briefly before he steals the smoke away, almost like a gentle punch. The unexpected touch and Sledge's deadly serious glare turns Snafu hot down to his toes.

Sledge finishes the cigarette in dead silence, and rather than stub it into the ashtray, he takes the nub and sticks it back between Snafu's lips. Sledge abruptly stands, grabs his tray, and stalks off without another word.

Leyden awkwardly coughs and gives Snafu a sympathetic look.

"Did you dump a bunch of papers on Eugene's bed?" Burgie asks Snafu for clarification.

"Fuck no," Snafu lies. They know he's lying. He grinds the cigarette into dust on the ashtray.

"Maybe I should have mentioned the Australian guys were buzzing around you, too," Jay suggests to Snafu, "Except there were less of them thanks to the war."

"Don't think that would've helped, Jay," Burgie says.

"Yeah?" Snafu says. He climbs over the mess hut wall and walks off.

#Sledgefu #Pining #Demisexual snafu #Bad germs

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pedropascalssimp · 4 years

Text

his gaurdain angel

Eugene sledge x nurse reader

Part one of a mini series

Summary: nurse y/n y/l/n, was the only female nurse on Peleliu Island. Having been transferred there when the island was in dire need of medics. After Eugene sledge gets injured and sent to the medic tent he finds his heart laying in the hands of an angel.

Warnings: language. strong mentions of death I suppose. mentions of blood. War. And of course a splash of fluff.

Peace was a privilege most couldn't afford, only the fortunate new what it was like to sleep in a nice warm bed at night, mind at ease while not having to sleep with one eye open. Not having to worry about being snuck upon and killed in their sleep. The fortunate knew what it was like to be surrounded by a glorious silence, the only noise around being that of the singing birds and chirping insects. The fortunate had the privilege of living in a peace and Tranquillity.

But the unfortunate? They were the brave souls fighting for that world peace the fortunate bathed in. They were the one's who spent night after night trying hard to get some sleep on the cold hard ground with a rifle in one hand and a prayer in the other, hoping that they wouldn't be slaughtered in their sleep like a helpless pig in a sty. The unfortunate tried using old lullabies their momma's sang to them when they was young just to erase the sound of gunfire and the cries of dying men out of their brains for at least a few minutes. But it never worked, nothing could bring the soldiers peace in a cruel world like the one they lived in. Perhaps that's what made them fight so hard, fighting for a world full of peace...

The unfortunate was the young auburn haired man who sat in the sand, brown eye's squinting do to the suns harsh light beating down on the soldiers. The said auburn haired soldier held a old pencil in his dirt covered hand, his brows netted in thought as he stared down at the piece of paper, until finally he slowly drags the pencil across it writing words of his bogus journey on this God forsaken island...

"who you writing to sledge? Is it A mystery woman back home or something?" the voice of his friend Sydney spoke, the blonde letting the ghost of a smirk dance across his face.

Eugene let's out a breathy laugh and shakes his head, "nah... Just figured I'd write my parents, ease momma's worrying a little bit" Eugene said lowly as he focused on his writing. Sydney nods in understanding, having known Eugene before the war.

A silence falls over the two, the silence foreign to Eugene considering it was a rarity on Peleliu Island. But of course the silence is broken by a face Eugene hasn't seen in days, his new found friend Snafu. Who gained a major concussion after a surprise visit from the japs. Eugene puts his pencil down with a relieved smile, Sydney standing up to greet the grinning man.

"shit, you look awful damn happy to have just gotten out of the med tent all the way back in the tree's" Sydney commented on the grin snafu was giving them.

"man if you saw what I opened my eyes up to then you would be walking out here with more then a grin" the dark haired man spoke with a smug smirk. "that nurse sure is a gorgeous woman, nice too but if you get on her nerves she ain't afraid of letting you have it man" he says while sitting down beside Eugene who chuckles.

"hell maybe I should twist my ankle and visit the med tent" Sydney jokes.

"you two are a handful" Eugene spoke amused at the men. Snafu lightly pats Eugene's shoulder.

"she's a angel sledge, the only damn beautiful thing out here on this damned island" Eugene picked his paper and pencil back up, not paying his friends words any mind... But soon he'd understand what the soldier was talking about.

"we need more gauze!" a gruff voice yelled, the male nurse hovering over a soldier who had a bleeding wound on his left shoulder. The screaming of pure pain emitting from the soldier peirced your ears as you grabbed the gauze and ran over to the male nurse.

"this is our last roll! Use it carefully because I have a bad neck wound over here that's in dire need of coverage!" you frantically exclaimed, making sure the nurse understands the importance of saving the gauze.

"yes ma'am" he grunts out and began fixing the soldier up, who screams in pain. You rushed back over to the soldier with a neck wound, cleaning it as best you can with how much the soldier moved and cried in pain.

"don't you fucking touch it you bitch!" the soldier yells huskly, tears streaming down his dirt and blood covered face. You let out a sympathetic huff and delicately rinse the wound off, resulting in louder cries and insults. After that you placed a hand on one of his shoulders while the same male nurse as before hands you the gauze back hurriedly before attending another poor soldier.

"if you don't hold still sir this will only hurt worse!" you say scolding, yet voice as gentle as always. The man holds a tight grip on your wrist, the one you had placed on his shoulder. It was painful but you bared through it as you began to wrap his wound, curses and cries escaping through his chapped lips as you done so.

But you finally done it and soon the soldier released your wrist and began to snooze off. You sigh and look over the tent, everyone taken care of. It was a rare moment for you, a moment to were you could take a break, sit down and breathe. And that's exactly what you done. Sitting on a empty wooden crate you let out a deep breath, closing your eye's and taking in this moment of peace.

Until it was shattered by three voices yelling for help. You shot up faster then lightning, leaving the tent and outside into the suns relentless heat. That's when you spot one familiar soldier and a blond boy, both carrying a unconscious auburn haired man, his face burnt and shirt soaked in blood. You hoped it wasn't his own, for it was a lot of it.

"we need help! Please!" the blond rushed out, the familier dark haired man spots you with a relieved look before the concern takes over once more. You rush to their sides.

"take him inside Shelton! Take him to the same cot you was in, it's the only one available!" you ordered your former patient, he nods and him and the blond take the unconscious man inside.

You soon followed them and watch how the placed him on the cot. The blondes hands was shaking, a terrified look on his face. You stride over and look over the unconscious man, from the looks of it, his face was mildly burnt which would heal over time. But whenever you took his shirt off exposing a gash across his abdomen... You felt a wave of fear wash over you. This gash meant it was easy for him to gain a infection, and many soldiers died in this tent because of that....

"is he gonna be alright miss y/l/n?" the dark haired man asked, the one you knew as snafu from attending his concussion weeks ago. You and him spent late nights talking, by talking he flirted shamelessly while you scolded him for doing so.

"I can't predict the future Shelton, but I can do my best to help him" you say truthfully, quickly looking over the tent. The two other nurses were busy.... You quickly turned around to look at snafu. "I need you to get me some water, boil it for at least ten minutes! And you" you look at the blond, "try and open me that crate over there!" you point at the last of your medical supplies. The two nod and do as you say. You quickly grab your damp cloth, carefully cleaning the blood off his abdomen.

"it's open!" the man yelled. You look over at him with a little smile.

"I need the gauze, cotton pads and stitch kit out of it" you say, to which he complies and grabs everything you asked for. Once he hands them to you instantly open the stitch kit. Grabbing the needle from the box. "do you have a lighter on you?" you ask the soldier. He starts going through his pockets and finds a box of matches.

"will these work?" he asks, causing you to nod and take them. Now all you needed was snafu to get you your water.

After a while snafu returned with the water, hurriedly handing the little kettle of water to you. You take it and set it down on the ground beside you. You was currently on your knees beside the unconscious man, getting a better look of his wound. You take the kettle and slowly dip a cotton pad in the water, cleaning the dirt and blood off his gash. After that you take the matches and lit one up, holding the flame to the needle.

"snafu hold him down, he'll most likely wake up during this process and I can't stitch him up while he's thrashing around" you muttered while focusing on the needle. You blow the match out and start fixing the stitching process.

Snafu and the blond both hold the man down, snafu holding his shoulders while the blond hold his legs. You take in a deep breath and placed your hand on his abdomen, right above the wound. Then you carefully stick the needle in his flesh and start sewing up the wound. And like you predicted, a pained yell was heard from the man after you was halfway through stitching him up. The sudden movement of the poor soldier squirming around makes you poke the needle into your finger tip. But it didn't bother you much as you was souly focused on the man's stitches.

"hold him!" you scold the two soldiers holding him as you try and move faster. A broken yell from the auburn haired man ringing through the tent. A cry soon followed. But just when you finished stitching him up he passed out once more. You stand up with a sigh and wipe the blood from your hands. Grabbing the cotton pad and gauze to cover the wound.

"you both can leave, I appreciate you're help" you said, looking at the men. Snafu looks at the auburn haired soldier before nodding his head.

"thank you miss y/l/n...." he murmured before leaving the tent, the blond following him out. You look down at the unconscious man and sigh. He had soft facial features, his nose sharp yet cute... This man was young, probably the same age as yourself. Much to young to see the things war played out for a man. You pushed a strand of hair off his sweat covered forehead. He was a handsome man, a beautiful contrast to this horrid island.

The night fell before you knew it, the sound of insects enough to take your mind away from where you were, humming a small tune as you washed any remaining blood from your hands. The insects heard outside reminded you of home, all those nights in the summer you spent outside as a kid playing before it got to dark out.

Home... Somewhere you long to be. But then again you wouldn't be able to live with yourself knowing there was brave souls fighting for the world while you sat at home doing nothing. That's why you volunteered to be a nurse, helping soldiers recover from horrible accidents. Although your mother hated the thought of you being out here, your father supported your decision all the way.

You rid your mind of thoughts of home, knowing it would only make your time here longer. So you gently place your hand against the auburn haired soldiers forehead feeling for any signs of a fever. Luckily he felt fine. Just when you went to move your hand the man's eye's fluttered open, the coffee colored orbs flickering across your face. You stopped humming the song you was humming and give him a little smile.

"am I dead?" he asks, voice low as his southern drawl breaks the sound of insects. "I have to be... I mean this ain't exactly what I imagined heaven would look like but the angels are far more prettier than I thought... At least this one is" he muttered, looking up at you. You felt a blush faintly paint your cheeks as you let out a little chuckle at the man. His compliment making your heart do a flip.

"you aren't dead soldier, just a bit beaten up is all..." you replied with a smile. The man let's a little grin tug at his lips.

"that explains the immense pain I'm feeling" he grunts while trying to move, but you placed a hand on his shoulder and give him a stern look.

"don't even try to move soldier, you'll tear you're stitches" you watch how he let's out a little huff.

"my names Eugene" he spoke quietly, you sit on the end of the cot beside him and give him a soft smile.

"I'm y/n... It's nice to meet you Eugene" you murmur while looking over his burns. They had to be painful. Eugene smiles a small smile before his eye's land on the harsh bruise that had formed on your wrist from earlier today.

"how'd you get that?" he questioned with furrowed brows, his eyes flickering up from the bruise and landing on your y/e/c eye's.

You simply shrug and look at the bruise, "a soldier earlier today... He didn't mean to actually, he was in pain and I was trying to clean his wound" you explained. Eugene nods in understanding while letting a little sigh escape his chapped lips.

"it must be hard dealing with a bunch of rough patients, especially since... Y'know, the only girl out here - well not girl - woman! Because you're a woman..." he rambled nervously, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. You giggle at him and shake your head, finding his rambling adorable.

Adorable? Jesus christ y/n get your shit together, you can't be finding this man adorable. You couldn't fall in love... Because then you would be distracted and that would lead to you screwing up work and that would result in serious consequences....

You banished those thoughts quickly and give Eugene a soft smile, "it's not as rough as you'd think, most men listen to me and the ones who don't? Let's just say they quickly learn how to" you say with a grin. Eugene chuckles, his amusement slowly turnes into a coughing fit though. You are fast to grab a canteen full of water and hold it by his mouth, your free hand cupping his jaw as you held the canteen by his mouth letting him drink. He gulps the water down until finally he finishes. But as you pull the canteen away, ready to remove your hand from his face. He softly places his hand over yours, keeping it we're it was, his hand sending a warmth and comfort through you that you didn't want to end. You furrowed your brows in confusion, not that you was complaining about his actions. Like said before he was a handsome man, but you didn't want to fall in love during the middle of war.

"what are you doing Eugene?" you whisper, but he doesn't respond. He closed his eye's and leans into your touch. It caused your heart to melt at the sight, you was already falling....

"that song you was humming earlier... Will you sing it to me?" he asks so softly that you couldn't deny the man. You nod and run your thumb over his soft skin. You wasn't one for singing for people though, you was naturally a shy person but for some reason, you didn't feel as shy around this man.

" sometimes I wonder why I spend... My lonely nights.... Dreaming of a song" you started singing stardust, the Tommy dorsey song your mother listened to every day, the melody one you couldn't forget.

He slowly falls asleep, a small smile on his face as you lull him to sleep. And that's how you spent your night, singing to the soldier you found yourself falling for....

___________________________________________

A/n: I felt the need to write for joe, and then this was floating around the drafts so I decided to post it hehehe, it's a mini series I'm working on, probably gonna have 3 or 4 parts. So my radical joe mazzello /Eugene sledge lovers.....here you go!

#joe mazzello imagines #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazello #eugene sledge #eugene sledge x reader #Eugene sledge x nurse reader #Eugene sledge fanfic #Eugene sledge imagine #the pacific

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joe-mazzello-archive · 3 years

Text

Two Lost Souls

A Eugene Sledge x Fem!Reader fic

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: references to the war/violence (duh), references to ptsd, panic attack/nightmare, snafu being his crass self, so much awkward flirting, a teeny tiny bit of angst

A/N: okay story time -- one day a few months ago i rewatched the last episode of the pacific and then took a nap and proceeded to have a lovely dream about cuddling with eugene in a train booth and running my fingers through his hair sooooo here we are. i’m extremely nervous to post this as it was a labor of love and it’s almost my first full period piece. i hope you enjoy! also bonus points if you know what book the reader is reading.

moodboard by @brianmays-hair

The nightmares started while Eugene was still in Peleliu. Flashes of blood and corpses and metal and dirt. Screaming and explosions, the sound of bodies hitting the ground. But then he’d wake up to the same visuals, the same sounds. His reality was one long nightmare. There was no escape, no end in sight.

Now Eugene was afraid this was all a pleasant dream. No screaming, no blood. From the moment he set foot back on the mainland, he was in constant fear that he’d wake up and be back there. Especially when the nightmares felt so real. Sometimes he didn’t know what was his true reality.

It had taken a while to get the dirt out from under his fingernails, to get the stench out of his hair, but eventually he did feel clean again.

You can’t shower away the memories. Those linger much longer.

Distractions helped. He read, he smoked. He chatted with his fellow marines. He enjoyed the good food he was given, tried to find comfort in the bed he got to sleep in. He thought about Mobile and his parents and Sid and how he’d be home to them soon. He was hyper-focused on everything and anything, knowing that if he let his mind wander, it’d wander right back there.

It’s how he found himself people-watching at the bustling San Diego train station. The boys were prattling next to him about some girl Snafu had gone fishing for, but Eugene was more engrossed in the crowd around them. Sure there were tons of other marines around, but they were mixed in with parents wrangling their children, businessmen with their briefcases, lovers saying their goodbyes.

A flash of dark red caught Eugene’s eye. A woman, probably around Eugene’s age, stood alone on the platform, clad in a burgundy blazer and matching skirt with a brown trunk resting at her feet. Whereas most of the platform was hectic and frazzled, she stood firm and patient, a calmness about her. She seemed unperturbed by the world around her, lost in her own thoughts, her eyes cast downward as she let out a sigh.

She was beautiful.

Not in the way that the nurses back on the island greeted soldiers with their red-lipped smiles and white uniforms. Not in the way that the girls had primped for the Murphy High prom, practically fighting to dance with Sid while not paying Eugene any mind -- which seemed a lifetime ago now. No, this girl was beautiful in a way that Eugene couldn’t put his finger on. She was beautiful in a way that stopped him in his tracks like no girl ever had before.

The whistle of the train finally arriving at the station and a hand on his shoulder pulled Eugene out of his trance.

“Last leg, Sledge,” Burgie commented with a nod towards the train. Eugene replied with a half-smile before following the corporal, Snafu already ahead of them. Sneaking one last quick glance in the direction of where he last saw the beautiful woman, Eugene was greeted with a sea of people - no flash of burgundy in sight. With a sigh, adjusted the duffle on his shoulder and boarded the train, ready to get home.

You weren’t a big fan of long train rides. The rumbling of the cars, the confined spaces, the stale air, the bad food -- it was miserable. Last time you’d boarded a train, it had been under bittersweet circumstances - excitement mixed with worry. But three years had passed since you had arrived in San Diego, and after finding yourself jobless with no place to stay, your time in the port town had come to an end.

So you booked your ticket back home, with nothing but your childhood room and your disillusioned parents waiting for you. What a way to make an already miserable form of travel even more miserable.

You found your only solace was in reading. Luckily you had grabbed a newspaper from the stand at the station -- and snatched a book from your sister’s home before you left. You planned on losing yourself in words while the American countryside passed by your window. You had quite the trek ahead of you.

You sat at a table in the dining car, a bottle of barely-sipped cola accompanying the plate of lunch that had been hardly touched. You held the newspaper in one hand as you used your fork to idly push around your roasted potatoes.

“Is your meal alright, miss?” sounded the voice of a slender waiter above you. With a deep sigh, you lowered your paper and plastered a polite smile, meeting the young staff member’s stare.

“It’s just fine, thank you,” you replied, your voice cheery despite your true demeanor. The gentleman nodded before leaving you be, stepping to the next table. As you watched him leave, your eyes drifted across the aisle of the car. A lone marine sat at the table catty-corner to yours, a private first class by the looks of his uniform. His auburn hair was neatly coiffed and a striking nose divided his face. His eyes were downcast, staring out the window, an almost solemn look to him. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, he was handsome - in a genteel boyish way.

But he was no boy. Many of the servicemen you had encountered in the past few years maybe were boys before they left. But being sent overseas to be met with nothing but violence and death -- those boys grew up quickly. This marine was no different. You could see it in the distant look in his eyes. He had seen terrors and lived to tell the tale.

Your thoughts were disturbed by a drawling southern accent behind you.

“Hiya,” the voice greeted. You glanced over your shoulder to find another marine trailing behind a woman. The woman turned at the greeting. “I’m Merriel Shelton. How about I take you to the back and you can show me your caboose?”

You spun back forward, eyes wide and your hand shooting up to cover your mouth, hiding your smirk. And when a resounding slap echoed behind you, a short giggle escaped your lips. The woman stomped down the aisle in a tiff, while the extremely forward marine and his buddy took their seats, joining the lonely marine you had been admiring.

You shook your head at the antics, turning your attention back to your paper. The boys’ voices across the aisle carried over to your side, but you tried to tune them out, not wanting to unintentionally eavesdrop. You urged yourself to focus on the words in front of you, but your ears betrayed you. After reading the same sentence over four times, not digesting a single word, your gaze drifted back over to your marine, who had taken up buttering the biscuit that had been sitting on his plate. His posture and manner had shifted, he seemed more relaxed in the presence of his fellow soldiers. His eyes were soft and friendly, and the ghost of a smile had taken up residence on his face.

“Guess I’m gonna find out soon enough whether I’m getting married or not,” the colonel who sat across from your marine declared wistfully before turning his attention to your marine. “What about you, Sledgehammer?”

You grinned at what you assumed was a nickname. How a seemingly mild-mannered fellow like your marine could have gotten the moniker of “Sledgehammer” was beyond you. Your eyes drifted back to the man, interested in his answer. He seemed to ponder the question for a moment, a flash of uncertainty briefly crossing his face as he picked at his biscuit.

“I’m just hoping this Florence girl comes to her senses,” he finally cracked with a smirk. So he was clever, too. You found that you couldn’t help but smile through the exchange, your gaze dropping back to your lap.

“Got a job lined up in Mobile?” An Alabama boy. That was an interesting development.

“Nah,” he revealed, his apparent uncertainty no longer bothering him. “No job, no girl…no plans.”

You and the lone marine had more in common than you had originally thought.

“How long you think that’s gonna last?” the flirtatious marine from before inquired, relaxing back in his seat. But the laughter of a pair of businessmen passing by your table concealed the marine’s answer. You shot a glare towards the rowdy gentlemen’s backs. How dare they prevent you from snooping on some strangers’ conversation!

Your gaze fell back to the trio of boys, and you couldn’t help but admire the redhead’s smile. The way his eyes lit up with warmth at his friends’ jokes, the way the dimple between his brows appeared and disappeared -- he was beautiful.

You were lost in your musings when for a brief moment, your marine’s eyes suddenly locked on to yours.

His smile fell and a look you couldn’t identify -- confusion? recognition? irritation? -- flashed across the features of his handsome face before you broke the spell and looked back down at your paper. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you stared down at the black ink on the page. How embarrassing. You had been boldly staring at the man for an inappropriate amount of time -- listening to his conversation, no less -- and now you had been caught.

You couldn’t help but think about the marine’s reaction. In the fleeting moment that he held your gaze, it was almost as if he’d seen a ghost. You didn’t want him to think you were some creep or some crazy woman.

You lifted your eyes slightly, glancing across the aisle. Your marine’s cheeks were pink as he gazed back at you softly - but only for a moment before his eyes quickly fell back down to the plate in front of him.

And that became the game you played. As the train chugged through the desert - what you assumed was Arizona - you and your marine took turns stealing glances at each other. First you, then he’d notice and you’d look away. Then he’d stare and you’d catch him. Each time, a rosy color would come to his cheeks and a hint of a smile would appear. Your own shyness began to fade with each time you’d catch him, even throwing him a wink at one point.

After another hour or so, your marine’s friends elected to head back to their coach seats. You assumed your game was over, and you tried to not let yourself be too disappointed. You closed your paper, having finally read every word -- though whether you absorbed any of it was up for debate. You gathered your things, pondering your next move. Maybe you’d wander to the observation car - it tended to be quieter as the sun went down. You slung your messenger bag over your shoulder and were about to step into the aisle when you were met with the sight of your marine, alone once again, staring out the window. Just like the first time you noticed him.

You took a deep breath, channeled your sister’s boldness and took a seat at the marine’s table.

It was her. The mystery woman. The beautiful girl clad in burgundy from the train platform was sitting across from Eugene.

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts as he gaped at her. He had spent the last hour stealing glances at her across the aisle, unsure if she was real or simply a vision. Now there she was, close enough for Eugene to reach out and touch her, gazing at him with soft eyes and a friendly smile.

“Hi,” she spoke after a few moments, breaking the silence and Eugene’s daze.

“Hi,” Eugene practically whispered, unable to find his voice. He cleared his throat before starting again. “I do apologize for staring, miss. You know, before.”

The young woman let out a soft chuckle, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, let’s not pretend you were the sole offender, private. I believe I was staring at you first.” Oh how wrong she was. But Eugene would keep that correction to himself.

She offered her name and her hand across the table for a shake, and Eugene almost immediately felt at ease in her presence. She certainly was not like the girls back in Mobile.

“I’m Eugene,” he offered in return, trying to ignore how soft her hand felt in his. She smirked as she let him go.

“So where does ‘Sledgehammer’ come from then?” she questioned with a quirked brow, and Eugene flushed at his nickname falling from her gentle lips.

“My last name. Sledge,” he explained. “Private First Class Eugene Bondurant Sledge, at your service, miss.” His explanation earned a bright smile from the girl, and Eugene decided right then and there that he’d do anything he could to make her smile again.

“Well, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sledge,” she said with a nod.

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine, miss.”

The woman playfully narrowed her eyes at Eugene, as if she were examining him.

“Was all that true? Before?” she asked before pursing her lips.

“Was what true?”

“No job. No girl. No plans,” she recited back to him, adding a twang to her normal voice. Eugene could feel the heat in his cheeks once again. He let out a nervous chuckle and scratched at the back of his neck.

“‘Fraid so, miss,” he responded, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Hope you don’t think less of me.” The woman shook her head as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Of course not,” she assured him. “I just don’t believe you.” She shrugged and cocked an eyebrow challengingly. Eugene was thrown off by her answer.

“You don’t believe me?” he inquired with a furrowed brow. She casually shrugged once again, as if she was making perfect sense.

“No way you can be this handsome and charming and not have a girl waiting for you back home.”

If the young woman was on a mission to make Eugene blush at all costs, she was extremely successful. Eugene shakily laughed as he stared down at his lap, unable to meet her gaze after that.

“My apologies, Mr. Sledge,” she spoke again, and Eugene let himself glance back up to see her timidly looking away this time. “That was awfully forward of me.”

Eugene was so thrown by his woman in burgundy. The prettiest dame he’d ever laid eyes on had gone out of her way to talk to him. Ask him questions. Compliment him. Yet he could see that she was just as nervous as he was. It was disarming in a way.

“No apology necessary, miss,” Eugene affirmed, offering a friendly smile when she met his gaze once again. “I’m just not used to getting attention from a gal as beautiful as you.”

A new game began. Eugene and his woman in burgundy took turns trying to make the other bashful, his confidence rising with every clever quip and retort to her own flirtations.

Eugene wouldn’t realize until much later that he hadn’t thought once about the war the entire evening.

“I feel like I should ask,” Eugene spoke up, rousing you from your thoughts. The two of you had relocated from the dining car to the observation car. You had been correct: it was virtually empty at this time of night, and the two of you were enjoying the peace. “Where are you off to?” You gave him a lopsided smile.

“Home,” you replied. “Tallahassee, Florida. Lived there my whole life until a few years ago.”

“Florida, huh? Why we’re practically neighbors,” Eugene commented with a grin. “So how did you end up in San Diego?”

“Few years back, my older sister married some businessman from California. Didn’t even get a chance to meet the man myself before he was drafted and shipped off to Europe.”

Eugene listened intently as you told your story. You knew he understood the horrors of war more than anyone else you’d ever spoken to.

“She demanded I come out to San Diego to stay with her,” you explained. “She’s always had terrible nerves and couldn’t bear to be alone in the house. So I took the train out, got a job at a bond office, and spent my free time keeping my sister away from the radio.” You let out a sigh and let your eyes fall to your lap before going on. “By the end, we assumed he’d be coming home safe and sound. They told us he was shot two days before the ceasefire was called.”

“To say my sister was distraught would be quite the understatement. After locking herself in her room for a week followed by five months of her ignoring my existence entirely, she told me I had until the end of the week to leave. Perfect timing really, since the bond office had terminated me that morning. No more war meant no more war bonds.” You shrugged as you recalled your story, as if it wasn’t such a fresh wound. You chanced a peek at Eugene, expecting a look of pity. But instead you were met with his warm hazel eyes, expressing nothing but understanding.

“So now here I am. Headed home. No job. No man. No plans,” you finished with a wink. Eugene smiled at your quip before turning to gaze out into the darkness.

“It seems like we both deserve to just do nothing for a while,” he suggested. Doing nothing. You quite liked the sound of that.

“Inspired idea, private.”

Eugene’s warm eyes locked on to yours once again, and you swore everything stopped and fell away. Nothing mattered except the marine in front of you, his bright smile, the lock of auburn hair that had fallen out of place. He was beautiful and clever and sweet, and though you knew he was haunted by his past, you’d never hold that against him. Gosh, you knew it was ridiculous, seeing as though you’d only met the man a few hours ago. But there was a part of you that wanted to pull him into your arms and never let go. Be there to make him laugh and make sure he knew he was safe. Listen to his stories and share yours in return. You wanted to do nothing for a while, like Eugene had said, but do that nothing with him next to you.

As you continued to gaze at the handsome man before you, you absent-mindedly tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. And you swore that for a brief moment, Eugene’s eyes fell to your mouth.

You practically lept to your feet, letting out a shaky breath before speaking.

“Well, I’m going to get some shut-eye,” you announced as you collected your things. “I suggest you do the same, private. Or at the very least you should spend some time with your friends before you have to see them off tomorrow.” Eugene, seemingly confused by the suddenness of your exit, nodded a few times before finding his voice.

“Right,” he said, “Well, goodnight.”

You cringed at what sounded like disappointment in his voice. You hadn’t meant to offend him - you just got startled is all.

You offered him a warm smile. “Goodnight, Eugene.”

You spun on your heels and headed for the doorway before you could change your mind and kiss him the way you really wanted to.

Eugene didn’t get much sleep that night, but that was nothing new. What changed is what kept him up. Thoughts of his burgundy girl swam through his head most of the night. He replayed every conversation they’d had, half of the time berating himself for what he said and the other half thinking about what he wished he’d said instead.

Snafu made sure to point out the bags under Eugene’s eyes that morning at breakfast.

But Eugene didn’t pay him any mind. He was too busy keeping an eye out for the woman, hoping he could flag her down to at least wish her a good morning.

By the late afternoon, there was no sign of the woman, and Eugene, Snafu, and Burgie had moved back to a booth in the coach car. Burgie was antsy, knowing they were not far out from his hometown of Jewett. He was recalling his excitement to see his little brother again when Snafu interrupted him, tapping his hand on Burgie’s chest.

“Would you look at her,” Snafu drawled out. Eugene glanced over his shoulder to where Snafu was indicating, only to be met with the sight of the very woman who had been on his mind all day, casually walking down the aisle towards him. She had traded out her burgundy ensemble for a cream colored blouse and a navy skirt. Eugene perked up, sitting up straight in hopes of getting her attention. But Snafu was faster, rising to his feet and cutting her off. She was surprised for a moment, but a look of recognition flashed across her face.

“Afternoon, miss,” Snafu greeted as the woman eyed him warily. Then her eyes flitted over to Eugene and a hint of a smile appeared. Then she looked back at Snafu.

“Something I can do for you, soldier?” she asked, arching an eyebrow and folding her arms across her chest.

“Ohh, there’s a lot you can do for me, girlie,” Snafu countered. “Hows about we head somewhere private and I’ll show you?”

Something in Eugene’s chest tightened at Snafu’s words. Sure, he had watched Snafu use line after line on any girl in his vicinity since they boarded the train. Even laughed at the man’s antics at times. But something was different about him putting the moves on his girl--or at least his friend. Acquaintance? Eugene didn’t know what the two of them were.

“Tempting,” she responded, rousing Eugene from his thoughts. “But I think I’m gonna sit and enjoy my book instead. Thank you for the offer, private.”

Snafu seemed confused -- Eugene assumed he was used to either getting the girl or getting a slap. He probably wasn’t used to getting no reaction at all. Snafu plopped back down in his seat, his brows furrowed, and Eugene chanced a look at the woman. She shot him a wink before settling in the booth directly across the aisle from the group of men and pulled out a book.

Eugene fidgeted in his seat -- his instinct was to go join her. But he respected her wishes. Maybe he’d ask her to dinner later.

It wasn’t long after you had settled into your booth that you watched Eugene say goodbye to his sergeant.

The mutual respect was evident, and the goodbye was definitely bittersweet. The normally chatty boys fell silent after he left, and Eugene’s far away look returned once again.

Eugene’s flirtatious friend then announced he was headed to the dining car to get a drink, and Eugene simply nodded, his gaze never leaving the window.

You waited until the audacious marine was clear out of the car before you shifted across the aisle to grab his empty seat. Eugene perked up immediately, sitting up and grinning.

“Afternoon, miss,” he greeted with a nod. “Sorry about Snafu before. I think he’s determined to pester every woman on this train before he gets off.”

“Oh, no apologies necessary,” you assured him with a chuckle. “I found it quite funny.”

Eugene’s eyes sparkled as he looked at you. Gosh, you’d almost forgotten how beautiful he was in the sunlight. Those hazel eyes you could just get lost in. You noticed the littlest bit of stubble had formed across his upper lip and around his jaw since last night.

Then you realized you were staring again and you quickly dropped your eyes to your lap out of habit.

“How’s your book?” Eugene spoke up, easing the awkwardness. You appreciated the gesture.

“It’s good so far,” you explained, patting the cover. “Not the most uplifting thing to read on the train, but I’m hoping it ends on a happy note.”

“What’s it about?”

You sighed as you stared at the book in your hands. “It’s about family hardships. Talks about poverty and alcoholism.” You paused to think for a moment before looking back up at Eugene with a smirk. “I don’t mind reading sad stories usually. But I can’t help but wish I’d stolen a happier book from my sister on my way out.”

That earned a chuckle from Eugene.

“Well, I--”

“Now now, what have we here?”

The two of you had been so focused on each other that neither of you had noticed that Eugene’s friend -- you remembered Eugene called him Snafu -- had returned, and was leaning against the side of the booth with a bottle of Coke in his hand.

“Thought you wanted to read your book?” Snafu continued, a playful tone to his voice. He cocked an eyebrow before taking a sip of his soda. You glanced over at Eugene to find him beet red in the face.

“Actually, I was just inviting Mr. Sledge here to grab some dinner with me,” you improvised, not wanting to have to lose your alone time with Eugene. “If he’d like.” His eyes lit up.

“I would be honored, miss,” Eugene replied, getting to his feet and holding a hand out for you. Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling as you placed your hand into his and let him help you from the booth. Eugene looped your arm under his and began to lead you down the aisle when Snafu’s slow, southern dialect called out behind you.

“Oh, I see how it is. Well, don’t have too much fun, you two!”

“So what did you miss the most while you were away?”

The question surprised Eugene a little bit. It was the first time she had asked him anything that had to do with his experience in the war.

“My dog,” he replied, his eyes dropping to his half-empty plate. “Closest friend I’ve ever had. He passed while I was gone.”

She nodded in understanding, and Eugene appreciated that she didn’t offer him pity.

“Dogs really are better than humans sometimes.”

Eugene simply nodded as his gaze drifted out the window. Time passing in the pacific had been a blur, even with him keeping track of the days in his notebook. He couldn’t even remember when it was he got the letter about Deacon. Maybe it was sometime during Okinawa? It must have been. He was just so angry --

“Where do you go?” The woman’s voice interrupted Eugene’s thoughts, and he blinked rapidly as he realized he had been zoning out.

“Sorry, what?”

The woman seemed unfazed. She simply looked at him with curiosity, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“When I first saw you yesterday, you were staring out the window. Eyes glazed over, lost in thought. You’ve done it a few times actually,” she explained. “You drifted off the same way just now. So my question is, where do you go?”

Where to start? Should he sit there and detail the horrors he’d seen? How every second he spent on those islands would flash before him, his brain forcing him to relive the atrocities he’d witnessed and been a part of? And could he even begin to put into words how affected he was? Was it fair to unload his burdens on this innocent girl, who’d brought him nothing but peace since he had set foot on the train platform?

“Back there,” was all he said, hoping it would be enough. It seemingly was, as his dinner date nodded her head once again. A silence settled over the pair, and Eugene couldn’t help but kick himself. If he hadn’t gotten lost in his thoughts before, she wouldn’t have asked and they could have continued their lovely dinner.

“I’m no expert,” the woman spoke up, and Eugene’s eyes locked on to hers. “But I have a feeling it’s going to take some time for you boys to fully leave that place.” The woman leaned forward, and Eugene was struck by how warm and comforting her eyes were. “And in my humble opinion, the world shouldn’t expect you to be okay right away.”

Eugene was blown away. This woman -- this beautiful, funny, clever, smart woman, who’d never set foot on a battlefield in her life -- somehow got it. Sure she hadn’t physically seen the things that Eugene had seen, and she never would, so she couldn’t completely understand. But she respected him and what he’d been through. And not in a superficial way, like when strangers on the street would thank him for his service. But in a way that made him feel seen and heard -- without having to speak a word of the horrors out loud.

With a nod of his head, Eugene finally spoke up.

“I appreciate that,” he said. “Now if only the rest of the world agreed with you.”

By the time Eugene and you walked back to the coach car, the sun had gone down completely. You could tell Eugene was beat, and you wondered if he even had slept the night before with how large the bags under his eyes were.

You tucked yourself back into your booth across from the boys, continuing where you left off in your sister’s novel.

The boys were relatively quiet next to you, and you realized after only a few moments that Eugene was out cold, slumbering against his duffle.

It soothed you to see him so peaceful. Your conversation over dinner had confirmed what you had expected to be true: Eugene could put on a face, but behind the facade he was extremely haunted by his time overseas.

It truly wasn’t fair. No one should be subjected to such horrors. Young boys with their futures ahead of them, shipped off to some foreign country, to either die or come back missing a piece of themselves? Tearing families apart and turning cities to rubble? It all seemed so pointless.

You were just one person. Just a simple girl from a small town, lost in your own life, unsure of where the path ahead would lead. But you had a loving heart and a warm embrace. And you’d give them both to Eugene, no questions asked. You could see yourself walking down that path with his hand in yours, figuring out how to navigate the future together. The thought of Eugene being there made it a little less terrifying. And you wanted nothing more than for Eugene to go through the rest of his life never feeling unsafe ever again.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when the train slowed to a stop. You watched as Snafu slowly got to his feet and grabbed his duffle from the bunk, swinging it over his shoulder. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking back at Eugene before stepping into the aisle. His eyes locked onto yours and he cocked his head back towards the sleeping marine.

“It’s rare to sleep well these days. Don’t want to ruin that,” he mumbled, clearly feeling like he had to explain himself to you. “I’m not one for goodbyes either.” You offered him an understanding nod and a friendly smile. Snafu returned your nod before heading down the aisle and out the door.

Sometimes you didn’t understand why men did the things they did. But you’d also never be able to understand the connection and camaraderie between servicemen. So you didn’t question Snafu’s decision to leave without waking Eugene.

Another hour or so had passed after the stop in New Orleans when you heard a whimper from across the aisle. Your eyes shot over to Eugene and your heart practically stopped. His eyes were closed tightly, his brow pinched, and he was gripping his own arms so hard his knuckles were practically white. He shook and thrashed in his seat, small cries escaping his lips that seemed to increase in volume each second.

You lept to your feet, throwing your book into your booth behind you before plopping next to Eugene and gently resting your hands on his.

“Eugene,” you whispered, trying not to wake him too harshly. He was clearly having a nightmare, and you didn’t know if trying to startle him awake was the right move. “Eugene, honey, wake up.”

He continued to shake, sweat forming on his forehead and his cries growing louder and louder. You moved your hands to his face, cupping his jaw gently and running your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Eugene!” you spoke louder and suddenly his eyes shot open and he sat up, gasping for air, but your hold on him prevented him from going too far. He blinked rapidly as his chest heaved, trying to get his bearings, but you continued to caress his face, murmuring affirmations to help him.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” you assured him. His big, hazel eyes were so sad as they stared into yours, and tears had begun to fall to his red cheeks. He let out a sob and you pulled him to your chest, cradling the back of his head as you wrapped your other arm around him. You held him close to you as he cried, your heart breaking at seeing him like this. You wished you could take every burden away from him. He didn’t deserve this. No one did.

A few nosy guests began to peek over their seats to see what was happening, frowns painted on their faces. As if this poor man’s trauma was an inconvenience to them. You glared daggers at them, and they shied away, slipping back into their seats.

You lost track of time, absentmindedly running your fingers through Eugene’s auburn locks as you held him. You began to softly hum a melody, a song that always comforted you when you were upset. Eugene’s cries began to quiet down, and his body shakes ceased.

Suddenly, he tensed in your arms before pulling away entirely. He wiped at his cheeks roughly as he sniffled, eyes locked on to his lap. You watched him carefully, unsure of what to do.

“Sorry,” he croaked out, his voice scratchy. “I, uh -- um, thank you for…” he trailed off, gesturing towards you with his hand.

“It’s okay,” you replied timidly. You knew he was embarrassed but you wanted to pull him back into your arms and assure him that he had no reason to be. But you waited, wanting him to come to you. His brow furrowed and you could practically hear his brain thinking.

“Now I guess you can see how broken I really am,” he said after a few moments and your heart ached.

“Eugene,” you practically cried. But he didn’t respond, instead turning sharply to face the dark window and letting out a shaky breath.

A tear escaped down your own cheek, your heart stinging at the rejection. But you opted to respect his space. With a sigh, you stood and shifted back over to your booth. You didn’t bother picking up your book, instead deciding to pull your own trunk and coat down from the rack and settling against them, hoping maybe you could get a little sleep.

Eugene didn’t bother trying to fall back asleep -- he knew wait awaited him in his dreams. Instead he focused on what he could see out of the train window. The sun eventually rose into the sky, and Eugene could finally see the greenery of Mississippi just before the train crossed the border into his home state.

He hadn’t taken a moment to look over at the woman he knew was still in the booth across from him. He couldn’t bear it. He was so ashamed of her seeing him like that. And then even more ashamed at how he’d pushed her away after she had been so kind to him. She hadn’t needed to comfort him, she had no obligation to do so. Yet she held him anyway. And Eugene had thanked her with a cold shoulder.

As the train pulled into the Mobile station, Eugene’s eyes scanned the platform. He couldn’t help but smile when he spotted Sid, leaning against his car.

Eugene slid out of the booth, grabbing his duffle and throwing it over his shoulder. A small voice sounded next to him.

“Eugene?”

The marine turned to find his woman in burgundy, eyes filled with so much worry, holding out a piece of paper.

“If you want to write. You don’t have to,” she explained, her voice uneasy. Eugene could feel his chest tighten. He hated that he had hurt her, made it so that she was so unsure around him. He gently took the piece of paper from her hand, his finger brushing hers just slightly. He was so tongue-tied, he had no idea what to say to her. So he simply offered her a soft smile and tucked the paper into his coat pocket.

As he made his way down the aisle, Eugene took a deep breath. Maybe one day he’d work up the nerve to write to her. He’d explain his actions and apologize profusely for his behavior. Hope that she’d forgive him but would understand if she didn’t.

But what was the point if he was always going to be broken?

You didn’t think you missed Tallahassee. But after settling back into your childhood home, visiting some of your old haunts, and reuniting with old friends, you’d begun to realize its charm.

Now that all the men were home from the war, jobs for women were scarce. You spent most of your time helping your mother around the house or taking walks downtown. Every so often you and some girlfriends would drive down to the beach, but other than that, you didn’t get up to much.

It had been a little over two months since you’d gotten home. You would have been lying if you said you hadn’t checked the mailbox religiously -- each day hoping a letter from Eugene would arrive. You knew the two of you had parted ways rather awkwardly, and you understood if a letter never arrived. But you really hoped you’d hear from him.

You opened the mailbox, only finding some random letters for your father. With a sigh, you headed back inside the house, dropping the letters on your father’s desk before heading down the hall to your room.

You collapsed on your bed with a groan, staring up at the ceiling. You needed to get Eugene off your mind. Maybe some of your friends knew some local servicemen who weren’t spoken for.

You were lost in your musings when a knock sounded at your door. Your mother called your name from the other side.

“You have a gentleman caller, dear,” she explained through the wood. “I didn’t know you knew any marines!”

You sat up with a jolt, eyes wide. Could it be?

“Be there in a minute, ma!” you called out, rushing to your vanity. You quickly checked yourself over, fixing your hair just slightly and patting down your skirt. You cursed at how your bed had wrinkled your blouse, but you didn’t have time to fix it. And if your caller was who you thought it was, you were sure he wouldn’t mind.

You practically flung open your door, pausing in the hall to take a deep breath before stepping out.

You were greeted with the sight of Private First Class Eugene Bondurant Sledge, adorned in his uniform, standing in your living room.

Eugene’s face lit up at your entrance, a huge smile plastered across his face. You grinned as you took him in -- he was even more handsome than you remembered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write,” he said, breaking the silence. “I needed some time to get settled back home. And I figured you deserved an in-person apology for my actions.”

“Eugene, you have nothing to apologize for, I promise you,” you assured him as you took a step forward. You itched to reach out to him, but you knew your mother was watching nearby. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Eugene was here, in the flesh, in your living room in Tallahassee. You could barely believe it.

“Ma’am? Do you mind if I take your daughter out for a walk around the neighborhood? I promise we’ll be back before supper,” Eugene inquired, addressing your mother, who had been lingering in the doorway of the kitchen. She grinned as she clasped her hands together.

“As long as you promise to join us for supper, Mr. Sledge.”

“It would be my pleasure, ma’am,” Eugene said with a sharp nod. He turned back to you and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

With a beaming smile, you looped your arm through his and let him lead you out the front door.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, soaking up each other’s presence in the warm Floridian air. You nudged his shoulder slightly.

“I was right, you know,” you spoke up.

“About what?”

“You do have a girl.”

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