Every time Lieutenant Dan Taylor found himself crawling on the floor like a slug, he cursed the very day Gump was born. With every scream of his protesting shoulder muscles as he hauled himself back into his wheelchair, with every uncomfortable sideways glance looking down on him, pitying him, he ground his teeth and swore a blue streak under his breath, calling that goddamn idiotic fool every kind of obscene, profane, disgusting insult he could think of. And somehow it was still never enough; never satisfying to have his wrath and his rage fall only on the deaf air around him. It left him feeling just as empty and hollow as before, with the pent-up fury and frustration and the knowledge…always the heavy, oppressive knowledge that he was accomplishing nothing this way. Going in circles.

So when he ran into Gump again, it was just as well.

But coming face-to-face with the fucker who'd started it all — and ended it all, incidentally…and brought all his ramblings of fate and destiny screeching to a halt — he didn't swear. Didn't pour out his anger and humiliation and resentment, though a large part of him wanted to slap him right in his brainless face if only he could reach it. There was nothing to say, but he spoke just the same; called out to his previous subordinate when he could have just let him walk on by, and engaged him when he could have just wheeled right past and never had to see his stupid mug again. Not like his aggression would be well-spent on someone who would probably take even a personal insult to his mother lying down. He confronted him anyway, advanced on him in a way he hoped was menacing and challenged him for all the good fortune that had come raining down on him, utterly and completely missing its mark. Where would Gump have been without him anyway? Definitely not getting decorated by the fucking president of the United States.

He'd intended to leave once he'd said his piece; roll right away from that slack-jawed fool and never look back, but it turned out gravity and ice didn't mix well with turning metal wheels, and once again the world decided to screw him over, sending him skidding, and then toppling and rolling down the incline in the pavement. And like the freakishly obedient puppy he'd been in the army, of course Gump came scrambling after him, offering a helping hand that Dan angrily shoved away. Once he'd righted himself — and no, he hadn't needed Gump to turn his wheelchair back over and wipe the chips of ice from the seat, thank you very much — he somehow felt worse than before he'd started to slip.

He could as easily have ditched Gump as swallow a bucket of nails after that — must have been his damn integrated sense of duty playing up like an old wound — and ruefully he'd invited him to stay with him for awhile. Not like Gump had much of a place to go, at the current moment.

So here he was. In his grubby hotel room, strewn with empty beer bottles and cigarette butts, staring out at the city and very aware of the pair of blithely inquisitive eyes trained on his back.

"You can sit down, you know," he said gruffly, drumming his fingers on the rim of one of his wheels. That was a relatively new habit; he'd never been much of a fidgeter before.

He looked over his shoulder long enough to see Gump glance around, and then move over to perch gingerly on the edge of the entirely unremarkable single bed taking up most of one wall, as if the sheets might reach up and attack him.

"Lieutenant Dan…" Gump began tentatively, trailing off as if asking for permission to speak.

Sighing resignedly — he'd signed up for whatever the hell this awkward encounter turned out to be, after all — Dan turned sharply and rolled over to the bed, cursing between his teeth as the crappy carpet caught in his wheels.

"If you're gonna ask why I told you to come with me, I don't have a damn clue," he muttered, "Call it a favor, if you want, considering…" Well yes, considering. Considering a great many things, but he wasn't about to list any of them here. This late-night hotel chat was cheesy enough as it was, by virtue of itself.

"Lieutenant Dan, I ain't never meant fer…" Gump burst out in a rush, but then he hesitated, fiddling with the sheets on either side of him, "I know you're still mad at me. 'Bout the medal, an' your legs an' such."

Dan let out a breath again and ran an exhausted hand over his face. He still didn't know how Gump managed to speak so bluntly, so unreserved. Some would call it admirable; his tendency to stick to the truth and give it to people straight no matter the circumstances. Personally he thought it was plain stupid. He left himself wide open, not only to attack, but to manipulation, and very clearly had already been played and manipulated before. But none of that registered with Gump, no, he was stubborn to a fault and resolutely refused to learn a lesson no matter how many times it turned around and bit him in the ass. It was frustrating, not only as his former commanding officer, but as his fr….well, as his associate.

"….Fuck it," he said, short and flat, crossing his arms and looking Gump up and down, "No use dwellin' on that crap, what happened happened. It fucking sucks, but it happened. Not like you were holding the medal or the saw anyway."

"…Whaddya mean, Lieutenant Dan?" Gump asked patiently, blinking at him.

Dan let out a breath that could have constituted for a laugh, "I mean I don't blame your sorry ass for the screwed up state of my life. It was just easier to, since yours seems to be all sunshine and rainbows by comparison. I forgive you, goddammit."

Gump was silent for a long moment, expression open but unchanging, and after a long moment, he stammered out a single word.

"O-okay."

This time, Dan really did let out a laugh, harsh and bark-like, but grimly amused nonetheless, "Okay?" he echoed, rolling a little closer to him with a single push of his hands, "I'm over here bleeding out my fuckin' heart and all you've got to say is 'okay'?"

Gump fidgeted, "Yes, Lieutenant Dan."

Edging still closer, Dan squinted at him critically before simply shaking his head in defeat, "You….are something else, I'll give you that."

There was no denying that simple fact; Gump was different. He'd only disobeyed Dan's orders once, when it really counted, and he and the men who had been spared in that ambush back in Vietnam owed him their lives for that. When he couldn't protect his own platoon, Gump pulled through for him and then some. And yeah, he'd suffered, he still did, but he'd broken a chain of senseless death that he'd thought he'd been doomed to inherit, and the cost of his pride was worth the survival of half a dozen otherwise dead men, he supposed.

He felt a sudden, disgustingly overpowering urge to thank Gump. For every little thing. But when the words rose in his throat like bile, he painfully swallowed them back down, struggling internally while Gump looked on, oblivious to his dilemma.

"Forrest," he managed, hating how strained his voice sounded even to his own ears.

Immediately, that got Gump's attention, and he cocked his head slightly, "Hm?"

"Come over here." As he expected, Gump didn't hesitate to follow the command; scooting closer with the same rather bleary, confused look.

"What is it, Lieutenant Dan?" he asked slowly.

Reaching up, Dan pulled him down to eye-level by the back of his neck, searching those freaking innocent eyes, "I want to give you something," he said, matter-of-fact, direct like he was still giving orders, "Okay?"

Gump visibly swallowed, something like fight-or-flight instinct warring on his face, "…Okay…"

Wrestling a moment longer with the impossible sentiment, losing a battle with himself, Dan swallowed as well and leaned up to brush their lips together. It was a confused, hesitant gesture, but somehow made more sense than anything he could have regurgitated through words.

Gump though, went rigid and immediately jerked back, looking at once stunned and panicked, reaching up a hand to lightly touch his lower lip, and drawing it away shaking. It occurred to Dan that he might not even understand that; so little else of 'normal', proper behavior in society didn't seem to click with him.

"I don't hate you," he offered as supplication, maybe even an explanation for doing what he had, "I'm not mad."

Gump was quiet still, swinging his lower legs idly against the side of the bed, like a little kid. His eyebrows were furrowed, but he didn't necessarily seem troubled, just a uncomprehending and a little taken aback.

"Okay?" Dan prompted, poising his hands on the rims of his wheels, prepared to back off.

Gump wet his lips nervously, folding his hands in his lap and interlocking his fingers, "Okay…"

A flicker of relief dawned, surprising Dan substantially. He hadn't thought he would be hinging so much on Gump's response…hoping he wasn't bothered or disgusted. So much else he'd done to him, with words and actions, had been angry and hateful, he would have liked to have one moment of understanding. Maybe gratitude, though that idea still rubbed him the wrong way.

"You're okay, right?" he pressed, "You look like shit."

Gump didn't say anything, but nodded a few times numbly, looking through him.

"….Good," Dan said distantly….then; "You sure?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Dan," Gump said robotically, but a moment later, a little emotion and light bled back into his face, "It's okay."

Dan slumped back in his chair, closing his eyes wearily. That was supposed to have been easier, not more difficult than choking out a thank you. He supposed he'd made his bed back there, and he had to suck it up and lie in it.

He nearly toppled himself over backwards in shock when he felt a tentative graze of lips against his own, eyes snapping open in shock. Gump pulled away after a second, indecisive, but thoughtful. So, there really was some activity going on in that head of his.

"What the hell was that about?" Dan snapped, perhaps a little harshly.

Gump recoiled instantly, but seemed to regain his composure…sort of…relatively quickly.

"I wanted t'….give you somethin' too, Lieutenant Dan. I wanted t' thank you."

Dan blinked; so he did understand what the implication had been there? He was grudgingly impressed, he hadn't thought the fool had it in him.

Allowing himself a tired grin — it felt like forever since he'd had anything resembling a smile on his face; the muscles felt disused and protested the job — he leaned back again and got comfortable in his chair.

"Would you mind showing me again? I think I missed it the first time…" Was he really flirting with his former underling right now? With Clueless Gump, of all people?

Gump looked bemused, but eventually it seemed to dawn on him what Dan was asking, and he returned the smile, a little waveringly, scooting closer to him again.

"Okay."