Upon Friendship

Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Based off of the mini-series no disrespect meant to the real men or actors

Richard "Dick" Winters didn't get a lot of time to think about anything other than the war and the men around him. There was no time to reflect on life or his family back home only making sure said men were okay, looking after Nixon (which probably should have fallen last on his list but managed to worm its way up to second) and carrying out his duties. It was the fact that he worried about Nix which made him stop one day and take a moment to think.

Back home he'd had a lot of friends, even a few "best" friends. But before joining the Airborne Infantry he'd never felt such…deepness in his friendship. He'd never before thought about dying for another man, never thought he'd have to jump in front of a bullet for him. The only bullets flying around back home where during hunting season and there was little chance that someone was going to get shot. He had never thought he'd have a best friend or any friend really, that he would be responsible for their life. Back home, the only reason he worried after his friends were if they were partaking in something he didn't agree with and that was rare. Almost everyone where he came from was close enough to being like him he hardly raised a concern. His friends back home drinking, he had learned to accept. That was life.

Now though, in the middle of this war he was worrying more than ever, which he supposed was natural, but none of his worries were about himself. Most of them were directed at Nixon. Sure Dick worried about making sure Harry got home to his girl who he talked almost non-stop about, and sure he worried about the rest of the Company and making sure as many of them made it back. He wasn't unrealistic, causalities happened. He just hoped that he could stop some if not most of them from happening. But he mostly worried about Nix.

He worried about his drinking and how much trouble it would get him into. He worried about the way Nix sometimes became out of focus that happened so rarely that Dick wondered if he was imagining it. He worried about Nix's life before the war, the very little he had said was not optimistic. He worried over the fact that Nix forgot his kid's name sometimes and the look of pain that crossed his face whenever he couldn't quite recall what his own blood looked like. Dick even worried that Nix didn't send any letters back to America which was probably none of his business but still he worried.

Dick had eventually come to the conclusion that while he had a bond with all these men, that they were brothers of sort, Nix was his best friend which somehow was more important than the rest of it. Everyone else had a best friend here, a partner in crime. Whether it be Liebgott and Webster or Martin and Randleman they all had the one person they would lay down more than their life for. The one person they reached out to in times of fear in a way no one that wasn't there could understand. They all had that person who they could tell anything to when it weighed them down, the one person who would understand the things they did even if they didn't realize they understood it. Which was Dick Winters was glad he was Nixon's "person". Because if there was someone who needed to be understood by another who wasn't going to make a joke, get angry or make judgments it was Lewis Nixon.

So when said person stumbled upon him staring up at the sky slightly out of sorts with an amused look on his face, he merely smiled and shrugged. Nix frowned briefly, shook his head and continued on his way with whatever path he had been following. That, Dick Winters decided, was real friendship.

A/N: I couldn't get this out of my head because I think that Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon were true friends and that their relationship was much deeper than normal friendships go. I dunno, it just struck me and I decided to go with it. Well…this is it, and I rather like at least the idea of it.