Disclaimer: Not mine! Nor will they ever be, I can assure you. If they were mine, there would be tons more Tim angst in the show.

He looked so handsome in his uniform and she loved him in it, then why did she feel so sick?

"I'll be fine. You don't need to worry." Even though his tone was carefree and reassuring, she could see through it to his true feelings. He was afraid and it scared her. He was never afraid, or perhaps he was better at hiding it than she thought. He never showed his worry as the news became more and more grim, as the Germans plowed through the neighboring countries, and the body count skyrocketed.

He was so serious as he scanned the newspaper everyday. Searching for a scrap of good news and only finding sadness. Not that he ever showed it, he smiled at her and his green eyes shone brightly. Even when he registered for a draft, he just smiled and told her, "I probably won't get drawn anyway." But she knew that he might, the illusion of safety comforted her though. She was unwilling to give it up.

And then his number was drawn. He had come home from work and received the mail as it had arrived. He had opened the letter on the porch and stopped. She had found him standing in front of the door as if his feet were super glued to the porch. All the color had drained from his face, and he just stared at the letter.

When he finally realized she was standing there, he tried to recover, but not quickly enough. He tried to smile at her but couldn't. His face was full of dread and shock. She had taken the letter and read it. And it broke her heart.

She had cried into his chest and almost begged him not to go. He had let her, let her cry all the tears he couldn't, let her release all the fear and depression that he didn't express, that he held in so she wouldn't see it.

So there he stood, in full uniform on the dock next to a destroyer. Surrounded by countless other young couples in the same situation as them.

"I don't want you to go."

"I know."

"You don't have to go, you could stay here."

"You know I have to go. My country needs me."

"I need you."

"I know." He gave her a sad look and took her hands in his, "But I'm doing this for you, if this world isn't safe for you, I have to make it." She smiled slightly.

"You don't have to do that."

"I do. Because I love you. And maybe, if I come back, we can get married. Have a family."

"When you come back. Not if. We can." She was tearing up now; she saw the sliver of doubt in his face about the certainty in her voice.

"There are no absolutes in war. If I die-"

"No, please don't." She begged, but he continued.

"Find someone that makes you happy. Someone who you can depend on. Please, just, don't dwell on me. Be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Even...even if I'm not the one that's going to make you be." She could see tears in his eyes before he blinked them away. She had already started shedding her's, she stared into his eyes and nodded. Unable to speak.

He heard someone call for the men to board the ship. He turned back to her, took her hands once more and then kissed her. She could feel more tears run down her cheeks and touch his. She pulled him into a hug and felt his heartbeat.

"Please, be safe."

"I'll be fine. You don't need to worry." He was terrible at lying and she saw through it, but she didn't comment and neither did he. She reached up and adjusted his uniform.

"Be nice to the other kids, make new friends and be careful." She joked in a watery voice.

"This war can't last forever, and when it's done I'll come home. Even if I don't, you'll live your life to the fullest." She nodded. "Remember, you promised." She smiled, barely. He gave her one last kiss on the cheek and boarded the ship.

She faced the sea as the ship slowly slid out into the wide, seemingly never-ending body of water. And waved to him. He waved back and yelled to her in a voice she barely heard over the crowd.

"I love you Abby!" She then yelled back.

"I love you too, Tim!" And the ship glided out across the pond, carrying him out, as the people on the ship grew smaller and smaller, until they finally disappeared. Blending into one another and then into the ship.

But she stood there until the ship sailed entirely out of view, a vague dot upon the horizon.

And he stood on the deck, as the other man went below. Watching as the peer shrunk and vanished from sight, even then he stayed on the deck leaning on the rail.

He hoped, and then prayed, for better days. And for the new day around the corner.

The sun set.

And rose again, as the moon retired.

One day down. Too many to go.