A/N: Happy almost new year! Who's seen Mary Poppins Returns yet? (I haven't, I'm going next weekend for my aunt's birthday!)
This fic is based on a true story my grandmother would tell of her and my grandfather; I've been wanting to write it for a while. This evening my grandmother passed away, so I decided to honor her by finally writing it.
Side note, this is set in the book-verse to align with the time with when my grandparents were young.
Please leave a heart and a review if you liked this, and please check out my other stuff - love you, Jillian
Bert played with the class ring he wore around his pinky. It was a small piece he treasured, for it was a symbol of something he'd accomplished. It also brought him back to simpler times. The world seemed to be spinning so fast nowadays and he wished he could take this ring and make everything right again; he wished to turn back the clock and take in the beauty of the world, while he was still young and innocent enough to not see the horrors that also lurk within it.
"Everything all right?" Mary inquired, lovingly taking the hand fidgeting with the piece of jewelry. Her voice was soothing to his nerves, but she knew she couldn't calm his racing thoughts.
She knew what was on his mind, what was on everyone's mind: for the last 3 years everyone had been following the war in the papers, it was only a matter of time before he was called upon to go to France.
Bert was sailing over from Southampton tomorrow morning, but received special permission from his commandment officer to visit with his family in London one last time before his departure.
Mary Poppins made sure to be there.
After dinner, he took Mary aside to have a bit of time alone with her without the bustle and tears of good-byes and good-lucks from the family. It was no use to him – he was suffocating in the house, strangled by his fears of what awaited him.
"I think you need some air, my dear."
Like he was one of her former charges, Mary led the dazed man around the house to bid farewell to the family that had gathered to see him off. Everything felt like a dream to Bert; the gaiety was a sick farce masking the tragedy he'd be forced to endure abroad.
The two friends walked through the park like old times. They grew up with one another and only about a year ago had officially begun a courtship, what with Mary's nannying for a number of years.
It was a peaceful evening, the moon was full, and they enjoyed the quiet the park had to offer at this time of night. Holding hands they strolled down the Long Walk, reminiscing on their time together, neither wanting to acknowledge the inevitable farewell which would soon take place.
"You'll be fine Mr. Alfred, you're the bravest man I know." There was a hint of teasing in her tone, hoping to lighten his mood. Nevertheless the statement was true. Bert may have a huge heart when it comes to empathy, but it extends to his courage as well.
A small smile played at the accused's lips. His usual cheerful demeanor had been hard to uncover since the blitz – so many innocent lives lost. Bert wasn't a pacifist per se, he believed in justice, but not at the mercy of civilians; they weren't the ones who decided to enter the war.
"And what if I don't come back?"
They were both thinking it, Bert just had to admit it, make the thought a solid phrase.
Mary was taken aback by his bluntness, but she didn't let it show.
"Don't speak of such things, you will – I know you will," she sighed, "you must" she added under her breath.
After basking in the glow of the stars for a moment, the two continued walking.
"I wish we could stay like this forever," Mary commented absent-mindedly, wrapping her arms around her friend, her love, "I wish we could freeze time and let the world remain unchanged while we went on living and exploring it together."
Bert kissed the crown of her head. How things have changed. Once he was the dreamer of the two, now, he was forced to finally face life as it stood. Take what was in front of him and not let his fancies disrupt it; imagination was a dangerous thing for a soldier.
Mary needed her dreams more than ever now. She needed to pretend that everything was fine. She needed to forget the horrors of war. She needed to stop imagining what Bert was getting himself into and focus on imagining what their life could become upon his return.
"If he returned." She couldn't push away that nagging concern no matter how hard she tried.
What seemed an eternity quickly came to feel like a mere minute of years past upon the sound of a distant clock chiming, shaking them from their bliss, signaling the late hour. Bert's return train would be arriving soon.
Not prepared to part just yet, Mary accompanied him to Waterloo Station, somewhat in a trance, reluctant to accept the verity of reality. His train was at the platform, minutes away from departure.
"What if I miss it?" he though "what if I just don't return to the port?"
They would come and find him, he knew it. He had to serve his country. He even wanted to, but at what cost?
"Au revoir, my love," leaning down to pull Mary into a passionate kiss.
She initially protested to such a public display of affection, but soon melted into the embrace, remembering that they were one couple in a crowd of hundreds, all sharing the same dreadful feelings.
"Until we meet again," Mary choked out, putting on a brave face for Bert as she watched him step up into the train car.
She ran over to meet him at the window, hoping for one last glance of her handsome hero before the train pulled away. Bert returned to his subconscious habit of toying with his ring once he sat down, afraid that meeting Mary's eyes would be too much for him. But how he wanted to look at her now, memorize her face, keep her image with him on the continent.
She saw a realisation hit him and took a step forward as he lifted to the window of his car and leaned out to her.
Bert twisted the ring from his finger, carefully handing it over to a somber, yet joyful Mary,
"Hold onto this for me until I come back."