For Marcel, because he's awesome like that. And for you too, of course, dear reader. I'm sorry for typos or grammatical errors, English is not my first language.

It's raining outside.

It's raining, but the air is very heavy, and hot, just like that blanket Edward Heffron's mom put on his bed when winter arrived, when he was a kid.

Heffron's mom is far away, now, but it's still raining and very humid outside. Summers in Philadelphia are often like that, and Babe is glad that his uncle's farm, where he lives now, has a little roof that covers the front porch, just like in the movies. Babe put a long bench with some pillows on it that were in the room upstairs there, because, well, it was more symmetric than two little chairs, and it had no other reasons to be, really.

Babe watched as the rain poured down and down on the little forest in his backyard. Everything was silent, and Edward thought that maybe the sun would be back up in the sky after a few hours, or next morning, to the very least. He just had finished eating, and he was lost in his thoughts, looking through the window.

Babe decided it was way too hot inside. He was just wearing a white t-shirt, and some brown shorts, but he felt like he was actually wearing a winter coat and boots, and damn, was it humid in this goddam house. He was sweating, and his breathing was short.

He walked over the little kitchen, and put his plates in the sink. The silence hit him once again, and he decided to go sit in the chair outside he had put there, especially for those hot days when inside felt like Hell's ovens.

Hands in his pockets, he got through the house, and opened the front door, not even bothering putting shoes on. He walked slowly where the bench was, and sat down on the farthest left.

War was something. Getting over it was something else.

After the road back home, he found everything at its place. His parents had made a little supper, and they were so glad that he was alive that the first thing his mom did was crying a little bit when she hugged him close to her heart. A few days later, he was looking for an apartment and a job, but nothing seemed to fit for him.

After a month, his uncle died of a heart attack. The poor man left a little farm behind him, and someone had to keep the place clean until the papers were clear. Edward jumped on the occasion. The place was little, a bit broken, but still good. It was at the beginning of Summer. Now, closer to the end, it didn't seem that Autumn had received its notice of coming back, since the hot and heavy days followed one and another without any sight of ending.

Edward did his best, grieving the uncle he barely knew, and taking in charge this whole mess. It was good, it kept his thought out of his war memories. He was so occupied, it didn't occurred to him that perhaps this wasn't the greatest idea.

He still had nightmares.

Horrible, long, filled with details, good old fashioned « I can't move a muscle» nightmares. He would wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes screaming at Muck, or Guarnere, or even Webster to get out of the way, to run, to hide, to do anything, but they always ended up dead. Always. And he just watched, and was it painful. Sometimes they were in a little village, but most of the time, they were back in Bastogne, and even if the air was hot in his room, his skin was cold and his face, long and pale as he wakes up.

Heffron makes sure he doesn't pay too much attention to those nightmares. Sitting down, and watching the rain pour as he enjoyed his free time, he thought that all those sacrifices were maybe worth it. Of course he was angry, of course there were days where he couldn't bring himself to get up and to stop shaking, but they were never very long, and Edward would thank Heaven every morning that he was still breathing. He blinked when the lightning hit the ground about fifty miles from here. His arms' hairs stood up as the temperature cooled down, the billion of little drops of water falling down, careless of the man that sat in the bench, shivering, trying suddenly to hold up some memories better forgotten, sighting.

He should have carried a blanket. Now, Heffron was way too comfortable to do anything else than to think about that new job he got in town, at the local construction center. He would surely sell the farm next week or so, and move into town. Life on a farm wasn't for him, after all. He shivered, the temperature was dropping down by the minute.

The bench was more like a little sofa, actually. Heffron tried to sink in it more, as the seconds passed by. He thought about going back inside, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He curled himself up, chin resting on his knees.

"You'll catch a cold", suddenly said a voice, as a blanket dropped on his head.

Heffron cursed under his breath, a bit scared. He removed the blanket quickly, as some hands pushed away his legs and sat down beside him, at his right. Eugene Roe was looking at him, a grey shirt and some black pants on, his short dark hair so dark it looked blue.

"Hey", said Heffron, blinking.

"Move your feet, and pass me that blanket, it's freezing."

Heffron did as he was told, and, in silence, Eugene put the blanket over their both legs, and turned his head to watch the rain as it poured down.

Heffron's heart beat a tad bit faster now that the medic was sitting beside him. When Eugene confessed, after much reticence, that he didn't had anywhere to go, besides his natal Louisiana, Heffron thought it would be ridiculous to let his friend be alone in those difficult times.

He wasn't the only one waking up screaming.

Eugene had tagged along with him, finding a job in town not so far, in a clinic that needed doctors. Eugene wasn't that happy with that, but at least « they have some equipment and the threes aren't exploding all around me when I fix them up » half joked Eugene once at supper (chicken and potatoes, with that delicious salad with dressing only Eugene had the secret).

The silence was pleasant, never forced or awkward. It's a little thing they got through Bastogne, words weren't really important. Just to know that there was someone who cared beside you could make all the silences bearable.

With the rain talking for them, Babe rested his arm beside him, fingers brushing with Eugene's.

Are you okay?

Brushing again.

Yes, don't worry.

A sight.

Last night was not good, wasn't it?

Looking down, then up again, frowning.

It's always not good.

Heffron, after fifteen minutes of watching outside, felt a bit bored. So he decided to look at Eugene, instead.

The man was deeply lost in his thoughts. His grave and long face, his eyes all focused, his hands that were once all covered in blood, his pale skin, everything about him felt familiar. Babe watched as he blinked, as he breathed, and found it damn marvelous that the two of them were still doing that, after all those days that they were still carrying with them.

The blanket was warm, and he could feel himself more comfortable. He was still staring, but he couldn't care less. He wanted to see Eugene like a man now, not a soldier, not a medic just a man, but he had trouble doing it. It felt just like a dream, so fragile. Heffron felt that if he closed his eyes and opened them again, he would be back in Bastogne, or in England, or Germany. Or that all of this was just a long vacation, and they had to meet up soon again to go back to combat. Peace felt out of place, it felt weird, unstable.

The only thing that was still stable in Heffron's shaking Universe was Eugene Roe.

After a moment, Eugene was bored by the rain too, and looked at Babe instead.

Eyes met, and locked. Suddenly, Heffron was warm enough to let go of the blanket, but he didn't. In fact, he moved closer to the medic, and firmly took his hand, blushing a little, and, of course, feeling silly about it. Eugene looked down, and up again, smiling a little, not quite, but still, he was back with him, and not any day in Bastogne, or Holland, or France in his head.

Suddenly, Eugene really looked at him, and his smile faded away very quickly. Edward just waited, worried, immediately moving closer, so now their legs were touching and Eugene's hand in Babe's was on Eugene's leg. The medic lowered his head, his eyes darkening.

"Eugene, what's wrong?"

"It was you last night, whispered the other man", and Edward nearly missed it. "It was you that died and I was holding you, and I couldn't save you. I couldn't…"

Heffron was suddenly afraid, because damn, that could have happen, and then what ? Roe squeezed his hand harder, but Babe didn't mind.

"Easy there, fellow. I'm here now, I'm here, I've always been here."

They stayed like this for a while, not quite sure of what to do, aching for comfort, but still too wounded, afraid to get hurt. Even if peace promised wonderful things, it was still fucking terrifying for both of them to just let go.

"Ed, I don't know if I can still do this."

"We'll find way", almost immediately said Edward, convinced, knowing it cost a lot to Eugene to open up. "We'll fix this, our lives, our screwed over little brains, we'll fix it."

A weight lifted from his shoulder when Eugene smiled again. It was a bitter sweet smile, but still.

"What's so funny, doc?" mocked Edward.

"You'll fix me?" asked Roe, looking at their fingers, suddenly very aware of the fact that they were squeezed together. He couldn't believe that he could actually play both the patient and the doctor at the same time.

"Well, I guess you're worth a shot", answered Babe, rolling his eyes.

Eugene already had his eyes closed when Edward moved closer to kiss him. Their lips touched firmly, and Edward let his tongue slip by, Eugene opening his mouth moments after. Edward felt Eugene's hand on his cheek, the other one still pressing his. Eugene's hair smelt of their shampoo, and was soft as Babe run his fingers in them, pushing at the back of his head to steady the kiss.

"Well, that's a good start", said Edward when they pulled away, their foreheads still touching, weighting on the other. Heffron blinked.

Still not good ?

Eugene smirked.

A bit better than earlier.

Eugene was out in the rain before Heffron could say Currahee. The man just jumped on his feet and ran, stopping almost as suddenly than he left. He squinted, looking up, and then completely closed his eyes. The rain seemed to wash away all his worries, and for once, Heffron, still taken aback from the situation, decided that maybe it was often not good, but for now, everything was actually good.

"You'll catch a cold, you idiot!"

He walked over, Eugene was already soaking wet, his feet muddy. Edward had a lot to teach to Eugene about himself, and Eugene had a lot of things to teach to Edward about himself, but for now, they only held hands, looking up, as the rain poured some more.

And for one moment, they were not two soldiers anymore, they were not two broken things, they were whole again, they were only men, breathing, blinking, loving, caring. Perhaps because they were together, and well, if this was the only reason, it was fine with them.

I hope you liked it!

Reviews are lovely, just like you!

Audrey :)