"Move over, runt."

Scout groaned, and rolled his eyes. Why did he even move in with his brothers?

"I don't have to listen to you, bro. I'm a grown man."

"A runt's a runt. You'll always be a runt, and forever a runt. Now move. I wanna watch somethin'."

The TV was turned off in annoying rebellion while he was 'listening' to his brother. Scout stretched, standing up and tossing the remote back on the couch, "Whatever, man."

Scout grumbled quietly, walking across the room to reach the hallway. In doing so, he answered his own question. He passed the kitchen, catching a glance at his mother. Of course she was the reason. She was the reason he joined the war in the first place—to make money to keep her in a safe bracket of finances.

He passed the kitchen and stepped in his room. It was not always just his room. Many of his brothers had moved out, including three of them that left for the same purpose. His Ma wasn't quite ready to tell him yet. Two of his brothers, both who used to share this room with him, had left in chase of two different woman. Scout did not know if they had succeeded or not.

He clicked the bedroom door closed and sat on his bed, his gaze falling on the corkboard above his desk. Small photographs were scattered on the brown material, capturing memories and event from early years to around the beginning of his teenage years. Some photographs had a man blotched out, some even were ripped off at the sides, deleting the individual completely. The photographs scribbled on with angry black pen ink managed to reveal a vague figure of a man wearing a suit. The photo that Scout focused on was of him as a kid, smugly holding a baseball in his hands with a bat over his shoulder. He was looking up at the man, cut off of the photo with only a gloved hand being seen, resting on Scout's shoulder.

Scout tightly shut his eyes, shutting out old memories as well. He lay down, now pressing his hands against his eyes and ran them down his face. Three years. Three years had passed and he still couldn't get over the war. A knock at the door yanked Scout out of his thoughts, and he jolted up instinctively. He resisted the urge to grab a weapon of some sort, and instead silently opened his door, cautiously walking down the hallway. He heard his Ma open the door.

"Hm? Can I help you?"

"Ah, ja. Is this the address in which Scout lives?"

Scout's Ma laughed, a short laugh that showed an obvious hint of surprise, "Scout! There's one of your old mercenary friends here to see you."

Scout stayed in the same place, confused. That voice... He'd know it anywhere. What on Earth would Medic be doing all the way in Boston? What could possibly be so important that he would come here?

Scout turned the corner and looked at Medic pretending to look surprised, and doing quite well.

"Doc? What are you doing here?" the question was genuine at least.

"I felt like seeing you. Is that a problem?"

"Guess not..."

Scout's Ma smiled and gesture towards the living room, "Would you like to come in? I can fix some drinks for all of us."

Medic returned the smile, nodding a slipping off his coat, wearing a white button-down underneath, "That would be great." And he stepped inside.

Saying nothing, Scout walked into the living room. His brother had wandered off, and the TV was a blank black screen. Medic had quickly already sat down on the couch, which surprised Scout slightly. He sat down in an armchair across from him.

His Ma quickly returned, carrying three drinks and handing one to Medic. He thanked her, took a sip, and then set it on the coffee table. She handed Scout a drink as well, and he grinned at her.

She sat down on the couch on the opposite edge cushion of Medic, "So, why are you here? Just visiting?"

Medic nodded, slowly relaxing. "I'm just here to see Scout. I have a few weeks of free time, and so I thought, "A good idea would be to catch up with old friends". So hence, I am here."

"I see... Well, I'll leave you two to catch up." Scout's mother stood and walked away, down the hallways.

Medic's gaze fell on Scout, and then he took the glass off of the table, sipping it, "Scout, what is in this? What is it?"

"Ma's special brew. It changes occasionally... It's always different types of fruit. I never can tell what's in it."

"Whatever it is, it's good."

"Thanks..."

"Scout..."

"Yeah?"

"... Never mind." Medic finished, leaning his head back against the couch, closing his eyes.

Silence filled the room, and Scout didn't mind. He had no idea what to say to Medic, and therefore the silence was a relief. For a few moments he looked around the room, avoiding suspected eye contact. When he caught a glance at Medic, he noticed his eyes were still closed, and he hadn't moved at all. He seemed quite comfortable, which was odd for Medic. Then again, war change people, and perhaps this was the way that Medic actually acted. On the other hand, this house always gave a nice vibe of calm, which was a simple fact. To this day it amazing Scout that peace stood, and still stands in this house. Especially when all of his brothers lived here when they were kids. All the fights and arguments happened outside of the house, never inside.

Scout stared at Medic. He couldn't help himself. He had nothing else better to do, and he was right in front of him, so he dissected every detail about Medic. He had the exact same physical appearance as he did during the war. Hair neatly groomed, face cleanly shaven, light, yet noticeable circles under his eyes... He still put himself under stress, whatever his job was now. Scout's eyes wander away from Medic's face and he looked at his muscles, the rise and fall of his chest, the relaxed, yet straight posture of his back... Taking it all in, Medic was attractive. Scout couldn't deny that factor. Every feature, when put together, was handsome.

Blinking, Scout snapped out of it and broke his intent gaze on Medic. No. There's no way he would rekindle those feelings he tucked away years ago. He knew better. It would just lead to unrequited emotions.

His attention was drawn to Medic once again as he heard him shift and he looked forward once again, eyes meeting with Scout. Suddenly, his gaze make Scout feel as if he was under a microscope. Medic never ceased to be intimidating, and when he cracked a smile Scout felt like an emotionally sensitive high school girl.

"Would you like to go out?"

"N- wait- what?"

"Food. Us. It's an event that occurs when two acquaintances wish to spend time together, is it not?"

"I dunno, Doc. I mean-"

Medic breathed in, and then exhaled loudly, in exasperation? Irritation? Scout could not tell.

"Come on, Scout. For old time's sake?"

Scout tried his best not to blurt out stuttering vocabulary of approval. He managed to keep his cool, "yeah, sure that sounds good."

"Good."

Scout got up and quickly walked into his mother's room, "Ma, I'm going out to eat with Medic. We have some catching up to do. I'll be back in a couple hours."

She nodded and gestured to the room across the hallway, "your brother and I are going to out to dinner as well, but in about an hour. So you may arrive home to a vacant house."

"Got it. Thanks for telling me."

They both smiled at each other, and Scout walked back into the living room. Medic was buttoning up his coat, ready to leave the house, and he looked across the room at Scout, "You need something to keep you warm."

"Nah, Doc. I'll be fine."

Medic glared at him and looked him up and down scornfully. Scout rolled his eyes, "'Scuse me, but I'm pretty sure my mother is in the other room, and you're not her."

"It's 5 degrees outside. Well, 41 degrees in American conversion, the one you understand. That's only 9 degrees above freezing."

"Doc-"

"Scout-"

They both rambled a jumbled sentence, both not understanding what the other said, so they simply stood there, silent, not knowing how to continue with their points on the topic.

After a brief moment of tension, Medic broke eye contact and looked out the window, "Fine. If you want to freeze, it's not my problem."

He opened the door, holding it open for Scout to walk through. Scout did so; satisfied that he won an argument with the stubborn German. He stood on the front steps as Medic walked out the door, and he took a spare key out of a nearby potted plant (a secret place for the spare key, which was well-hidden considering the assortment of other plants on the porch).

Scout shivered due to the cold, but he made sure not to show it as the both of them walked down Wiget Street of Boston, walking forward towards Salem Street. In exhale, their breath puffed out of their mouths in grey, cloudy wisps due to the cold air, and the clicking of their footsteps was all that was heard on the street.

"Boston... It's a town of such fame, isn't it?"

"Guess so. I never labeled it as important because of the town. I only think it's important because my Ma lives here."

"Of course, of course."

They turned the corner, a line of various stores and restaurants presented to them.

"All of these are amazing. What would you like?" Scout leaned on the brick building.

"I invited you to dine, and you know this town better than anyone else. You decide."

"I'm up for that. All right. If we turn left and cross a couple streets, on the right side there'll be a great restaurant. It has mostly Italian dishes, 'n I'm in the mood for some comfort food."

"I see... So let's go, then." He said, crossing the street with Scout.

They entered the restaurant and took a seat. The waitress smiled at both of them, asked for their orders, and Scout included that he knew exactly what he was having, but that Medic would need more time deciding. The waitress nodded, and left them.

"Any idea on what to eat?" Scout asked.

"Thinking..."

"Hm."

Scout idly looked out the window, watching the people walk by. He sighed, and then looked back at Medic. A few moments passed, and then he nodded.

"Ah! This one," He pointed at a meal on the menu, "it sounds good."

"That was fast. Alright then," he gestured to the waitress, gave the orders, and then waited.

Scout then looked straight at Medic, "Now. Tell me why you're really here. It can't be just to see me; you must have some ulterior motive. What is it?"

Medic arched an eyebrow and Scout noticed that he grit his teeth slightly behind his closed lips, then said, "If you think I have another reason for coming, you will find none. You are the only reason I am here. It's that simple, and that complex."

Not even taking in the last part of Medic's answer, exasperated, he replied, "How could I think that? What's so important about me that you feel the need to take a part of your schedule when I'm sure it's already full with other things?"

"You'd be surprised..."

"That's not a goddamn answer."

"Scout, stop. Just stop and calm down for a moment. What makes you think that I would be here for a reason that is negative?"

"Because... Because no one else has come to visit me. None of 'em. Even Snipes, and we were good friends, man. Really good. Why would someone like you do it instead of a friend?"

"We were companions. Teammates, at least. Isn't that close enough? And I've helped you so much during the war."

Scout scoffed, "It's your job to help people. A requirement, so don't act like that makes us friends."

Medic didn't respond. He looked down at the table, and countered, "What do you know? Why do you think anyone who comes close to you instead of you coming to them is a threat? Why is everyone your enemy?"

"Because everyone is. There's my Ma, and then there's me. No one else."

Silence.

A smiling waitress interrupted the cold with a wide smile, but it quickly fell as she took in the atmosphere. She set down their meals and swiftly left. They didn't look at each other during the whole meal, avoiding eye contact even though they were each other's only company.

Scout finished his, "Good food," and set his fork on the plate.

Medic was silent, and Scout realized that his words were taken the wrong way, and didn't even come out right. His mind told him something completely different, and yet his mouth blurted out nothing but lies. Lies that were his only barricade from words he refused to speak. Medic mattered to him, and always did. But he already lost one loved one. What was the point in setting himself up once again?

Scout stood up, and looked outside. It was a little before sunset, "I should be getting home."

"No!" Quickly Medic stood as well, looking alarmed. "… No. Come on, Scout. The night is still young. We have time."

"Time for what?"

"Anything. Something. Take me somewhere in Boston. It doesn't matter where."

Scout arched an eyebrow and tilted his head, "I… Guess we could go to the park if you're that determined?"

"Sure. Yes. Let's go," Medic placed the bill on the table and gestured towards the door.

They left the restaurant and turned right, Scout taking the lead. He shivered once again, noticeably so. The Sun had completely set and the air was getting colder. Every street they passed was nearly vacant, and they were walking closer to the park.

"Cold?" Medic asked.

"Nah."

"You're lying."

"No I'm no-" Scout jumped as he felt warm cloth wrap around his back. He looked back at Medic, and his coat was off.

"What part of 'not everyone is your enemy' do you not understand?"

He didn't know how to answer, and the kind gesture was so unexpected. All he could point out was, "but you're cold now."

"I've lived in Germany for so many years, and the cold there is much more severe. I'll be fine. I've endured worse."

"Alright. If you say so," and they continued walking

They reached the gates of the park, and entered. The park was empty except for scattered couples and groups on the hills. They followed the main path, and then Medic veered to the left and then they were on a winding, narrow walkway surrounded by trees. Victorian lampposts dimly lit the way, the branches of the trees covering some of the lights. The overlaying leaves left dancing shadows on the path, and made the leaves glow in their mottled autumn colouration.

"I'm sorry." Scout said uncharacteristically.

"What?" Medic stopped, and Scout did so as well.

"I'm sorry that I was rude to you in the restaurant. I was talking and I was just saying what came to mind and it wasn't even true. I didn't mean what I said. So I'm sorry." Scout turned to the side and was now looked up at Medic.

"And you say that my actions are suspicious? I have never in my years of knowing you apologize to anyone. I should think that this park would be the place of my murder."

"No, Doc. I'm serious. I'm sorry." He spoke sincerely.

Medic arched an eyebrow and looked down at him, not knowing how to respond to the unexpected kindness. "You're forgiven… But your rudeness does come with a price."

"Wha- Medic what are you talkin' abo-"

Medic broke Scout's sentence by pulling him close, looking down at him. Their bodies were pressed against each other, and Scout was speechless. Too many thoughts were filling his brain for him to think straight or think of anything. He was never this close to anyone this long. They were face to face, and he wanted to do nothing and everything at the same time. He wanted to return the embrace, and he wanted to push Medic away and control himself. There's no way this could work. He couldn't open his heart for anyone else to matter.

No no no no no no no…

But since he did nothing, Medic decided to do something. He slowly closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Scout's. His presence and his touch was warm and comforting, and Scout's heart was racing. His cheeks were flushed due to the blood flowing into his face, but he gently kissed back. Tenderly…

The leaves rustled once again in response to the wind and some fluttered down onto the grass and pathway. Some leaves danced around the two and one got caught in Medic's coat, distracting them.

The kiss was broken and Medic flicked the leaf away, not noticing the giddy, sheepish grin on Scout's face. When he looked back, Scout was however still smiling, and Medic smiled back.

What was he doing? Why did he respond positively? This is bad. This is so, so bad.

"Medic-"

"Shhh," Medic covered Scout's lips with two of his fingers, "Don't. You said before that words that come out of your mouth are not always what you want to say. So stay quiet, unless you truly do not wish for me to feel for you this way."

Scout nodded, and he guessed that his face was painted with a rich crimson blush. His heart fluttered in his chest, and since Medic gently demanded of his silence, he laced their fingers together and rested his head on the taller man's shoulder.

They stood there for many long moments, enjoying the feeling of being completely alone. Having time to now think in the embrace, Scout couldn't help the gnawing questions forcing their way into his mind. How was this going to work? This must be kept a secret, right? His mother—approval? Disapproval?

No. There was no way that this was going to work anyways. He had to push away—he had to.

"Medic, there's no way we can do this. I'm sorry," and he shifted in the man's grasp.

The arms wrapped around him were now not as tense, and felt softer- gentler. "Scout. Scout, please. I came all this way just for you. I love you. Surely you feel the same? I know you do. I've seen it in your eyes… I saw it just a few moments ago. I've seen that expression so many times over the years when you look at me. And my emotions… They express the same things. I may not show it, but I feel it."

"Doc, don't say things like that! It's makin' me want to change my mind! We can't do this, even if I do like ya. It's just not the way the world works. It's 1975, there's no way that two guys can be together. That's just insane."

"And?" Medic cupped Scout's hands in his, "We can do this. We can think this through. I promise."

"Don't." Scout grit his teeth.

"Don't what?"

"Don't make promises that you can't freakin' keep!" He pushed Medic away, holding his hands together, "That's a load of crap!"

Scout backed away quickly, and turned around, running towards the exit of the park.

"Scout! No, wait! I'm sorry!" Medic cried behind him.

The Bostonian didn't look back and he continued running... Running.

He turned the corner and ran past the restaurant they ate at, past the closed buildings, and turned on his street of houses. He arrived at his doorstep, panting lightly, only slightly out of breath. He hadn't run that fast in a long time, and it was interesting to know that even after three years he was still in shape.

He took out the key from its usual hidden place and opened the door, his hands chilling at the contact of the cold metal handle. He tossed the key back in its place and stepped inside, passing through the foyer and living room, walking into his room. He kicked off his shoes and grasped near the belt of his pants to slip off his shirt—but instead felt the thick warmth of a coat. That's right... He was still wearing Medic's coat. He was in such a panic in the park that he didn't even return it. Suddenly his mind went numb as he replayed everything that happened that night. It was going perfect. Everything was perfect. Until he pushed Medic away. Why did he do that? He was such an idiot.

He gripped the sides of his coat and breathed in. He inhaled the scent of Medic, and it comforted him. The scent also burdened him... He felt guilty for much of what he said, and he wish he could take it back. But what was done was done. All Scout could do now was nothing. He was too afraid to pursue Medic and attempt to mend what was done. He breathed in again. Medic... He couldn't help but smile at the memory of the kiss, as bad as the situation evolved into. He didn't take off the coat. He collapsed onto the bed and rolled under the covers, wrapping himself in a warm blanket of comfort. He imagined Medic forgiving him for his stupidity and everything wrong he said, holding him close, and murmuring to him softly as they were both wrapped around in the blanket in a safe cocoon of Scout's imagination.