The next few months at Toccoa blurred by in a frenzy of activity. Dick found himself taking on more of a leadership role among the men. Some men had started to take notice of him simply because he was so straight-laced. The man from Philadelphia, the funny one, was named Bill Guarnere. He knew Dick was from Lancaster County and made several farm boy jokes, which Dick had to admit were funny. From there he fell in with Bill's friends, George Luz and Joe Toye, along with the duo Skip Muck and Don Malarkey. Even Captain Sobel had seemed to notice him. There were rumors around the camp that Colonel Sink, the leader of the entire 506th regiment wanted to make Dick a 1st Lieutenant. Sobel had been giving him more responsibility and it turned out that Dick was able to naturally lead the motley crew of Easy Company. Whenever Dick thought about it, he smiled to himself, happy to be doing some good for men that would soon risk their lives.

Most exciting of all for Dick, was that Lewis Nixon seemed to have taken a shine to him. Nixon was from New Jersey, although Dick had heard him blabbing about being born in New York City and travelling to Europe when he was a child. Nixon was clever and witty. He had gone to Yale and was an expert in all things cultured. Despite this lofty background, everyone seemed to like Nixon. He was a good soldier, and the men trusted him, even if he had made them run Currahee until they collapsed. Apparently there were rumors of him becoming a 1st Lieutenant as well.

After Nixon had introduced himself to Dick, he had started to show up casually, at first only when Dick was with a whole bunch of men, and then later when Dick was walking back from training or class, just to talk. Nixon was an avid talker, and he knew something about everything. Dick didn't question why Nixon seemed to like him so much, mainly because he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to come up with an answer. Dick and Lewis were so different, and although most of the men liked Dick, it was clear he wasn't exactly best friend material, so Dick was grateful for the company.

On a rainy Tuesday night in mid-December, Dick found himself sprinting back from Currahee alone. He had taken to running alone before bed. He was heading for the showers, but now he wouldn't need it, seeing as the rain was falling steadily.

"Winters!" Nixon's voice came from the side of Dick. Dick was about halfway to camp. The rain came heavier and heavier, and Dick could hardly see Nixon slide up next to him, keeping his pace.

"I hate it when you call me that," Dick really did. "What are you doing out here anyway?" Lewis Nixon, despite his natural skills as a soldier, was not one to go the extra mile. Even though Dick had only known Nix a few months, he already understood that Nix wasn't a believer in the disciplined lifestyle of the American soldier.

"Sorry, Rich." Nixon grinned in the rain. Dick ignored the fact that Nix hadn't answered his question.

"You better watch it, Lew." Dick sped up his speed a little bit, trying not to slip on the wet ground. His shoes looked like they had been dipped in clay as the dry Georgia dirt spat back most of the rain the sky offered.

"Lew," Nix said his name slowly. "Lew. You've never called me that before." Nix looked out towards the camp. They were almost back.

"I guess I only call you that when I'm irritated," Dick slowed down as they rounded the corner that took them back to the barracks. "It's amazing it took three whole months!" Dick's voice caught in a laugh as he shoved Lewis away.

"Hey I think that's a new world record!" Lewis punched him on the arm and ran away as Dick gave chase. They kicked up dirt and mud and rocks as they rough housed around the camp, shouting at each other half-heartedly.

About two minutes in, Lewis slipped on mud and landed face first in front of Dick, his cheek catching on a stray rock. Blood creeped out of a small cut as Lewis grunted on the ground.

Dick laughed, "I guess that's what you get for following me up to Currahee!" He offered Nix a hand but he stayed firmly on the ground, gingerly touching his cheek. Dick rolled his eyes, thinking about how Nix would probably have to face injuries much worse than that eventually. Before he voiced this, he was struck with sudden nausea at the thought.

"Following you?" Nix jerked his head up. "I happened to be doing some intelligence work." Dick couldn't tell if he was messing with him. He raised his eyebrows.

"You? Intelligence?" Dick gripped Nix under the arm, wrenching him up from the mud.

"Colonel Sink wants me to be an intelligence officer," Lewis had a serious note in his voice. "I was running a drill in the rain, trying to navigate," Lewis looked over at Dick. "Then I saw you." The rain was still coming down steadily and Nixon's dark hair was made ink black with wetness.

Dick just nodded, trying to figure out what that would mean for Nixon's future on the frontlines. Certainly, he wouldn't be the first one sent into combat. Maybe if they both made 1st Lieutenant they'd be able to work closer together, although Dick knew that his place was leading men. Suddenly Dick wondered why it mattered so much to him.

"How's your cheek?" Dick went out to touch Nixon's face, but stopped himself. Internally he cringed. What was he doing?

Clearly Dick had made a weird expression because Nixon said, "It's fine, how's your face?" Nix mirrored Dick's look.

Unusually quick witted, Dick said, "Well it sure is better than yours, Lew." Dick had called him Lew again, but he was far from irritated. He felt queasy and flushed. Dick became very uncomfortable, and he moved for the door of his barrack, which thankfully, was not shared by Nix. "Well, I guess I'll see you around." God, thought Dick. You're being so lame.

"You're not going to shower?" Nixon gestured to the red mud that stuck to Dick's face and neck and hands. Dick thought Lew looked for a second longer at his neck than normal.

"Nah, I'm beat, Lew," There was that Lew again. "I'll see you for that field strategy class tomorrow though?" Sudden, strange anxiety filled him. He thought maybe he was going to heave up the canteen full of water he had drunk while running.

"Yeah, sure Dick." Lewis smiled then and headed off to the showers.

"And Nix?" Nix turned back around.

"What?"

"Take care of that cheek, huh?" Dick tapped his own cheek and smirked.

Nix smiled fondly, "Yeah yeah, thanks dad." Dick watched him trot away in the rain.

For the next week the camp was giddy for Christmas break. Well, if you could call it a break. Easy Company was to be given a half day of classes Christmas Eve and would have Christmas Day and half of the 26th off. Only a few lucky trainees would be allowed to return home. Dick wasn't one of those lucky few. It didn't actually bother him. He sent regular letters back home to his parents and sister. He even got to call them a couple of times. He did miss the Pennsylvania snow though. In Georgia it just rained a whole lot, and it wasn't warm either. Cold water was regularly running off the gutters of the camp, and huge puddles formed where the cracked ground was overly saturated.

On December 23rd Dick walked into the mess hall, cold and wet. George Luz was loudly singing Christmas carols in the corner, and Bull Randleman was smoking a cigar like always, rolling his eyes at George.

"Hello, sir." Eugene Roe, a short Cajun who was training to be a medic walked up to Dick. Eugene called everyone he respected sir, but it made Dick feel uncomfortable. Still, he didn't say anything. It certainly wouldn't do any good.

"Eugene," Dick smiled, "What's going on?" Dick got in line for some food. Maybe they'd have something special for the holidays.

"Well, sir, me and Ed Heffron were wondering if you were leaving for Christmas." Eugene picked up a tray and waited to be served.

"No I'm afraid I won't be having a Pennsylvania Christmas this year."

"I'm real sorry about that, but then we were thinking maybe you'd want to come 'round our bunks and spend it with us?" Eugene glanced at the food that had been plopped on his tray. It looked like corned beef casserole. "Most of the guys are gonna be together, you know, Guarnere, Toye, Randlemen, Malarkey, all them, you know." Dick smiled at Roe's eagerness. After Lew, Dick thought he was closest to Roe.

"Yeah, I'd love to." By now Dick and Eugene had sat down with the others, who were throwing things at Luz to get him to stop singing.

Dick ate his casserole quickly. He realized he was starving, and the food warmed his insides. It was gently raining outside, and someone had convinced Sobel that small Christmas lights should be allowed around the perimeter of the hall. Dick was starting to get a fuzzy sleeping feeling in his stomach.

"Hey where's eyebrows?" Bill was talking about Nixon. Bill looked at Dick expectantly. "He's usually tagging along after you isn't he, Dick?"

"He's probably poking around for liquor with Speirs, Gonorrhea." Joe Toye flung some casserole at Bill's temple. Bill retaliated by launching carrots at him like darts. Dick looked around, wary of Sobel to discipline them. However, he saw that there weren't many other people in the mess hall.

While Bill and Joe continued to fling food at each other, Dick finished eating and stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow night then, Eugene." Dick put his hand on Eugene's shoulder as he walked out the door. Eugene nodded quickly, distracted by the shenanigans in front of him.

Outside the rain had slowed to a mist, and Dick could see the moon behind a thick layer of clouds. Absently he rubbed his hands together, wishing he'd brought his gloves. It wasn't that late yet, and Dick thought about going for a quick run around camp. Dick decided to head over to his bed to grab some gloves before heading out.

As Dick walked inside his barrack, he recognized the back of Lewis Nixon, standing beside his bunk. He had his dress trousers and shirt on, a leather jacket slung over his arm. Dick smiled softly at his friend.

"Nix!" Dick clapped Nix on the back. Nix had his dress hat on and looked freshly showered.

"Hey, I was worried I'd miss you," Nix looked at Dick shyly. Dick stilled, confused. When Dick didn't reply, Nix hurriedly added, "I got a 48-hour pass, they just told me this morning." Nixon held up a piece of paper.

"Oh," Was all Dick managed at first. "Well, that's great Nix, I'm sure your family will be thrilled to see you." Dick sat down on his bed, suddenly feeling very tired. He looked back up at Nix.

"Well, you don't know them like I do," Nixon laughed flatly. Dick knew his family was a sore spot, but he refused to believe his family wouldn't want to see their son for the holidays. Especially when that son was on his way to war. "Still, I'm excited for some real food and good booze." Lewis sat down next to Dick. Neither of them said anything for a minute.

"Don't get too plastered, alright?" Dick began rummaging around in his footlocker for gloves. He rifled through letters and spare fatigues, but he couldn't find his leather gloves. Nix had stayed quiet on the bed, but knelt down next to Dick.

"Here," Nix pulled a pair of gloves out of his jacket. "Take mine." Dick turned towards him as Nix smoothed them out. Just as he went to grab them, Nix grabbed Dick's wrist and gently pulled the first glove onto his hand. Dick's hands froze and his heart seemed to jump into his throat. Nix stayed quiet as he put on the other glove. Then he grabbed Dick's hands in both of his, rubbing them together.

"How did you know that's what I was looking for?" Dick cocked his head to the side.

"Dick whenever we eat together you leave early to run," Nix rolled his eyes. "God knows why, there'll be enough running in Europe." Nix almost grimaced. Sometimes the war didn't even seem real anymore, they were so cooped up at Camp Toccoa. Dick hadn't really registered the fact that he was actually going. Nix let go of his hands.

"Right, yeah," Dick laughed in spite of himself. "Well, thanks, and try to enjoy your freedom." Dick made himself hide his disappointment at his friend's leaving.

Nixon smirked at him and said, "Just keep those on, it gets surprisingly cold here in Georgia, at least at night," Nix pointed down at Dick's now gloved hands. "I don't want to come back to see you've gotten the flu or something, you gotta stay strong to fight off those Germans!" Nixon visibly moved back from Dick. The air seemed to stiffen with something unspoken, though Dick couldn't say what.

"Merry Christmas, Lew." Dick rubbed his hands together.

"See you in 48-hours." Nix started backing towards the door. He waved briefly, and finally walked out of the door.

Dick sighed, already missing his friend. It's only for two days; he'll be back before Christmas is over. Dick laid his head on his pillow, hearing a weird crunching noise. Dick lifted his pillow up, finding an envelope and a chocolate bar. On the front of the envelope was scrawled Ricky, one of the many nicknames Lewis had taken to calling Dick. Despite being alone, Dick blushed and opened the envelope.

Happy Christmas, Dick. Found this candy in the kitchen. Thought you'd like it.

Currahee and all that.

-Nix

Dick didn't do anything for a while. He just looked from the card to the candy and back again. Something warm was spreading over him, from his ears to his toes. A feeling was bubbling to the surface, a feeling Dick thought had been there for a while. But no, Dick couldn't think about that right now. He pulled Nix's gloves off and tore into the candy bar. It was warm and melted in his mouth. Dick sat up and ate the whole bar in a minute. The warm feeling had settled in his lower belly.

Suddenly feeling manic and slightly feverish, Dick changed out of his fatigues and pulled on some standard issue shorts and a white tee shirt with a light jacket thrown over it. However, in his rush to quiet his racing mind, Nix's gloves remained forgotten on Dick's bed.

"Sir?" Eugene Roe's drawling accent echoed in the bathroom stall. It was Christmas Day, about three in the afternoon. Dick was sprawled on the bathroom floor, his head spinning. "Do you need me to get you something?" Eugene knelt down besides Dick. "God did Luz sneeze on you or somethin'?" Dick just wanted Roe to stop asking questions.

"Roe, please, you're talking too fast." Dick had to be the biggest idiot in Georgia. When he went out running a couple nights ago, the night Nix had given him his gloves and specifically told him how cold it could get at night, Dick decided to run in shorts and no gloves. He had even taken off his jacket half way through. Then Dick got caught in a cold blowing rain. He was lucky he didn't have pneumonia.

"Well you can't stay on the floor, sir," Roe went to reach for Dick, but Dick waved him off. "Dick, you have to move, the floor is cold." Every time Dick moved his head he caught a wave of nausea and his stomach threatened to blow chunks. Not that much would come up. He hadn't eaten since last night when he was with Roe and the others. They had ham and mashed potatoes, treats from Colonel Sink, and much to the dismay of Captain Sobel. Unfortunately Dick threw that up in the early hours of Christmas morning.

"I can't move Roe, my head will explode." Dick closed his eyes, trying to get the world to stop wobbling. He felt hot. He probably looked ridiculous, with his flushed face, hollow eyes, and bright red hair sticking all over the place. He probably looked like a troll.

All of the sudden he was being yanked up to his knees. His head jerked violently and hit the side of the stall. He gripped the toilet sit in a fit of vertigo. His vision went black momentarily.

"You're in a bad way," Eugene's voice sounded far away. "What in God's name did you do, lay out in the rain naked for two hours?" Dick weakly laughed at that imagery.

"Just help me back to my bunk." At this point Dick hoped he'd pass out, preferably for a couple of days.

Roe was small but strong and he half dragged Dick back to his bunk. Almost no one was in the barracks. Christmas music played in the mess hall and Colonel Sink had set up a bar for the men. Hopefully they'd be gone for a while so Dick could sleep.

"I'll be right back." Roe went to his bunk where he had a whole bunch of medical supplies. Although he wasn't done with training, he regularly carried supplies around. Dick didn't think there'd be anything of use. He wasn't bleeding out. Although he probably wouldn't say no to some morphine. "Open up," Roe was holding out some pills for Dick. He dry swallowed them, the pills scraping down his esophagus. "It's only pain reliever, but hopefully you'll sleep."

"Thanks Doc," Dick smiled feebly, pulling the blanket up around his chin. "Now go enjoy the holiday, no need to waste any more of it."

"You sure, Dick?" Roe looked doubtful, but he glanced longingly at the door. Dick knew he wanted to go hang out with Heffron.

"Yeah of course." Dick took a deep breath.

"Well alright, feel better then." Roe took one last concerned look at him and slowly went for the door. Dick waved and closed his eyes. His cheeks felt like fire but waves of chills sped down his shoulders and back up to his head. His head felt like it was swimming in mucus and his stomach was knotting and unknotting.

Dick didn't know how much time had passed. He drifted in and out of consciousness. He didn't dream when he was asleep, it was a dead sleep that left him more tired than before. Sometimes he felt like he was on fire, and other times it felt like his bones were made of snow. Dick thought maybe an hour had passed, but it could've been a day for all he knew.

Finally, when Dick woke next, he felt like he had slept longer than the other times. His head felt like lead, and he was pretty sure his fever was staying put. His throat felt like sand. Dick slowly inched up into a sitting position. He stared into space. When he got up to get water, he put his jacket on and wrapped his two blankets around him as well. Since he hadn't filled his canteen up that day, he'd have to trek all the way across the room to the water fountain, a feat that seemed almost impossible at the moment.

Dick's bare feet tensed against the cold floor, but somehow he made it there. He drank and drank and drank until he needed to stop for a breath. Then he drank some more. I'm going to have to get back up to pee, he thought. Life was really unfair sometimes. Dick kept drinking though, his thirst seemingly unquenchable.

When Dick turned back to go to his bed, he noticed it was still light outside. The clock on the wall read 5:11. He had only been in bed for two hours. Dick thought that if he was feeling better he'd go to the front of the camp and wait for Nix to get back. Now he wouldn't be able to see him. Dick collapsed back on his bed, still wrapped in his jacket and blankets.

Two hours later (or was it three?), Dick woke up, a long line of saliva stuck to his pillow. Dick was sprawled on his stomach, and his muscles ached. He must have not moved the entire time he was sleeping. He shivered, and stuck his face into his pillow.

"You actually got sick." A slurred voice said. Dick lifted his head, looking beside him. Lounging in a chair next to him was Nixon, in his dress uniform. Dick thought he looked great. He had an incredulous look on his face.

"Hey, Nix." Dick's voice sounded ungodly. Even after all that water he drank, he still sounded like someone had ripped his lungs out and then forcefully stuck them back in. His head was starting to feel heavy, so he put it back on his pillow.

"It's all that running, Dick," Nix swayed slightly as he kneeled down by Dick. "If you had just done the bare minimum, like me, you'd be dancing with all the other boys in the mess hall right now." Nix's voice was loose and low. Dick liked it.

Dick sat up slowly. "I need to go to the bathroom." All that water had gone straight through him.

"Put some socks on first," Nix's voice had gotten serious, and he leapt up to grab a pair from under Dick's bunk. "It's important," Nix paused, searching for a word. "Your feet-important."

"How drunk are you?"

"Well, I just spent two days with my family."

"Okay, just give me my socks." Nix tossed Dick's socks to him. He stood up and took his jacket and hat off and tossed them on the vacant bunk above Dick's bed.

"You're lucky no one sleeps above you," Nix watched Dick struggle to put his socks on. "The guy above me snores all night." Nix loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Dick ignored Nix and stood up. Everything went blurry for a fleeting moment, and he was afraid he'd tip over. "Woah there, Ricky." Nix put a hand on Dick's shoulder.

Dick rolled his eyes at yet another nickname. He started to shuffle away to the bathroom. Nix followed closely behind him. Dick could smell whiskey on his breath and rain on his hair.

When he made it to the bathroom and relieved himself, he felting an incessant pulling in his stomach.

"Oh no." He said softly. The pulling was becoming more urgent and saliva started coating his mouth. He turned towards Nix, who was watching with concern.

"Dick…?" Nix put his hand on Dick's arm.

"Lew I'm gonna—." Dick lurched all over Nix's dress shirt and spun away from him, stuffing his head in the nearest toilet. Dick retched and the sounds echoed off the walls. It was mostly water, but even after there was nothing left to puke up, his body shook with dry heaves. Dick could hear Nixon turn on the sink, wetting a paper towel. Dick was mortified. He glanced over at Nix, and noticed that thankfully he hadn't really gotten much on him. He stuck his head back in the toilet though, shamefully.

"You know I think the true mark of friendship is when one friend pukes on the other and they don't even get mad," Nix put the wet paper towel on the back of Dick's neck. "Now all I have to do is puke on you." Nix grinned. Dick was about to retort when nausea set in again. Nix kept his hand firmly on Dick's back, and Dick's face grew warm with something other than fever.

Eventually, Dick's body collapsed with exhaustion. Nix went to help him back up, but Dick stopped him. "I can't move, Lew, it hurts." Dick lay sprawled on his back, the cool floor soothing him. Dick heard Nix's low chuckle.

"Okay." Nix slide behind Dick and before he knew what was happening, Dick's head was resting in Nix's lap. "We can stay here for a little bit." Dick thought he would actually die. He tried to lie very still, he tried not to snuggle his head in Nix's fresh smelling pants. When Nix ran his fingers through Dick's hair a couple of times, Dick was convinced he had died.

Dick must have fallen asleep, because suddenly he was being put back into his bunk by Nix. Nix had wrapped him back in his jacket, put both blankets over him, and then laid his own jacket on top, creating a cocoon of warmth. Dick pretended to still be asleep, and watched Nix through half shut eyes. Nix was slowly unlacing his boots, his fingers slow and languid. He undid the buttons on his dress shirt and tossed it on the ground, so all he had on was his white undershirt. Dick saw the gleam of his dog tags around his neck. Nix took off his belt and socks as well. Nix glanced down and saw Dick's eyes were opened a crack.

"Hey, you." Nix's smile crinkled beautifully.

"Are you staying here tonight?" Dick tried not to sound like a child, but failed.

"Yeah, I'll be on nurse duty, I think." Nix sat down in the chair.

"Look in my footlocker."

"Why?"

"Just do your sick friend a favor." Dick motioned for him to get up. Nix got up and kneeled beside the trunk. He opened it and found a folded piece of paper with his name on it. Nix smiled up at Dick, but Dick didn't see. His eyes were closed again. Nix opened the paper:

Nix-

I had Colonel Sink make me a copy of my dog tag. Sink says he gave his friends a copy of his tags, so someone else would always have his name. I think he said it was for good luck. Merry Christmas, and thanks for the chocolate.

-Dick

Nix glanced up at Dick, the dog tag in his hand. He had a look on his face that Dick hadn't ever seen before. For one frightening second Dick thought Nix was going to cry. Why on Earth would Nix cry at a Christmas present? Dick inhaled nervously, suddenly worried giving him his dog tag (even just a copy) was weird. It was true; Colonel Sink had done the same thing, but nearly twenty years earlier. He had also given them to a whole group of his friends, not one specific guy. Dick knew there was a lot more meaning behind his gift. He hoped Nix wouldn't guess what that meaning was.

Nix reached up to his dog tags, and snapped one off. He then put Dick's in his pocket, and set his own on top of Dick's footlocker.

"Nix, the point of dog tags is to have two of your own." Dick tried to hide his smile.

"You know, they do give us more than one set." Nix's hand was in his pocket, rubbing the lettering of Dick's name.

Dick sighed. "Thanks, Lew."

"No, thank you, Dick," Nix looked like he was going to confess something. "I didn't want to get stuck with Speirs as my best friend." Although Dick knew they were best friends, his face warmed when Nix said that. Before Dick could reply, Nix stood up and patted Dick on the head. Then he climbed onto the top bunk and got under the covers.

Dick heard him shuffle around and get comfortable. He waited until he heard Nix's soft steady breathing. Once he was sure Nix was asleep, he leaned up and reached for Nix's dog tag on top of his footlocker. He looked at the name: Lewis Nixon III. Dick didn't know he was the third Lewis Nixon. Dick wondered what else he didn't know about Nix. Dick could think of a couple of things Nix didn't know about him. As Dick rolled onto his side, he thought about the biggest thing; that Dick was without a doubt head over heels for Nix.