Meuse-Argonne
Above all, he's always had beautiful hands. Long, lean fingers caressing the curve of your belly and the dip in your back, before falling away and adjusting the wool of his military greatcoat. Your son was only an idea to you then, an abstract sketch like one of your many discarded charcoals, and all you could really think about were the cadences his voice, the rise and fall of his chest against your cheek, until one day a big black ship carried him off and into the horizon. You still remember the crowds, the sting of ticker tape and pale carnation petals on your exposed neck. These sensations will sting for years to come, like memories of the lonely birth, the look in the doctor's eyes when you told him where your husband was (he's a hero, ma'am). The rest is a stream of ash and the steady throb of loneliness and oh god Jimmy, come back, I'm so lonely, Jimmy, I'm so lonely.
He does come back, but not really. There are calluses and scars on his skin and in places no man will ever see, behind his eyes and even his own thoughts and after a while you realize the truth; that he never will stop screaming at night, that there's still a part of him in France, dead in the woods he thinks you don't know about. This is all after you've found the bed of another, of course (because soft hands and a softer face are enough to make your heart crack a little less, for the time being), until the day when you return with your son and your hastily packed bags to find the letter that you had left on that tenderly woven tablecloth gone and you know that he knows and that this charade, the one you've both been playing since he returned, is over.
His eyes are hard and soft at the same exact time, like wool wrapped in steel. Sitting across the table from him, you realize that you've never seen him looking barer. He takes your hand. You can feel the calluses. They're still beautiful fingers, though.
AN: This fic is the offspring of way too much coffee and a particularily merciless plot bunny. This is unbetad, so honest reviews would be greatly appreciated.
