It had been two weeks. Shifty had not responded to his letter. Dick Winters was getting anxious, worried. Biting his nails had suddenly become a habit for him. Would he forever be shunned, ignored by the former sergeant? He already hated himself.

"This was stupid! Dumbest idea I've ever had.." He told himself one day, returning to his room after post had been sent out. He still received letters, of course. There were many things involving his position as a major. Still, nothing came from the home front, no return addresses bearing the name Powers. He now understood why a guy would need a drink every now and then. He only touched the stuff once and hated it, but watching Nixon use it as a form of medication (or rather, relief) made him want to turn to the bottle now. It suddenly wasn't so strange to see an object as a man's best friend.

After tossing the letters angrily on his night stand he went to the balcony to write, as he always did. It was certainly a better alternative to alcohol, but occasionally he would find himself taking out his frustrations on the wrong person.

The following day, after another night of tossing and turning, unable to rid his mind of Shifty and his mistake of a love letter, Winters didn't bother checking his post. The expectant bounce in his step gradually turned into a march. When he caught sight of his best friend Lewis, he hardly offered a greeting. Instead he merely nodded his head as Nixon raised his hand (holding a flask) in the hair with a smile.

It was obvious to everyone that Winters was in the most foul mood they'd ever seen from him, but no one had it in him to say anything. Nixon rarely had problems with such things.

"What's the problem, Dick?" He asked, following him and wrapping an arm around the redhead's shoulder when he caught up to his speeding stomps.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it." He returned, voice stern and ears red. He was somewhat embarrassed by his bratty behavior.

"Oh, come on," Nixon grinned, trying to cheer his friend up. "Let your buddy Lew help you out. It's no use keeping secrets from me."

Winters came to a halt, turning his head. Nixon cocked his to the side, intrigued.

"Forget it."

"Aw, don't be like that, Dick. I won't make fun of you or anything. Promise."

Winters sighed through his nostrils and kept his eyes downward. "Well.."

Nixon smiled again, mouth open like he wanted to finish the sentence. His eyebrows raised and he chuckled. "Well..?"

Winters decided to just shrug off his arm, walking ahead. "Never mind. Just forget it, alright?"

Nixon also sighed, but still he smiled. It was rare to see Dick so pissed off. Only one eyebrow raised this time. "Not visiting the post today, I see." He took a swig from the flask. "I can see right through you, Dick. Come on, we can talk about it somewhere else if you'd like."


They returned to Dick's room. Dick sat on the edge of his bed, hunched forward, eyes averted, and hands clasped together. Lewis, on the other hand, stepped out o the balcony to enjoy the weather and the landscape. He clearly took these things much too lightly.

"You see, Lew, I- I don't even know where to begin." He said, voice almost breaking up.

"Begin wherever you want to. I've got time to spare." Nixon told the clouds. "Is your sweetheart at home not writing to you as planned?"

Dick took a hand to scratch at his head nervously. "..I guess you can say that."

Nixon turned. "Well then, what seems to be the problem? It's not like names need to be mentioned here. I don't know her."

Dick shook his head, smiling. If Lewis only knew.. (Well, actually, he did.)

"I guess you've got a point there, Lew."

"Alright, go on, spill it. She's just suddenly ignoring you now for no reason?"

"No, n-not quite."

Nixon shook his head, growing aggravated. "Go on! Jesus, Dick, I'm not here to laugh at you or anything."

"I-I've.." Winters wasn't quite sure he was fully buying that last statement from Lew. "Actually, I was the one who started writing the letters. Well, letter.. I've confessed my feelings to them and uh… It's been almost a month now. They didn't respond to me at all."

Nixon walked towards Dick and sat next to him on the bed, wrapping that friendly arm around his shoulders again. "Hey, don't beat yourself up over it. Maybe she's not ignoring you at all. I'm sure everyone's just as busy back at home as we are. There's just fewer bullets."

Winters remained solemn and with an angry frown. On one hand, Lewis felt really bad for his best friend but on the other, well.. This rare moment had some entertainment value, apart from the heartbreak.

"Well, you survived the war didn't you?"

That didn't comfort Dick at all.

"You've got all your limbs. A bullet hasn't been lodged in your body anywhere."

Dick raised an eyebrow and his ice-blue eyes looked at Nixon's coal-colored ones with disbelief. "What are you tryin' to prove here, Lew?"

"I'm just sayin'." He began chuckling before reminding himself, yet again, that this was a serious matter. "It could be worse, alright? You could end up like Shifty Powers or something."

Dick almost stood on his feet immediately, but had to stop himself. Nixon couldn't know his 'sweetheart' was dear Mr. Powers, could he? Still, Winters tensed up, waiting for Nixon to remove that uncomfortable arm so he could take another swig of his drink.

"What do you mean by that? What happened to Shifty??"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" Nixon said, too casually. He finally took that drink. "Well, you know how he won that lottery thing and got sent home early-?"

"Yeah, he came to me personally to say goodbye. What about it?" His hurried tone annoyed Nixon in some regard.

"Well," he continued, shrugging off the interruption. "Two days after that, he was headin' for a plane in a truck. But, uh.. Before he could make it, the truck was hit head-on by a drunken corporal from another regiment."

Winters' expression became grave and Nixon had to stop him from saying anything. He continued with the story. "He's doin' fine now, Dick. He didn't die, but he's been in and out of hospitals. I heard everything inside him's fractured. Hell, he even survived a concussion."

Dick shook his head. "Dammit."

Lewis was always shocked when the rare profanity slipped from Dick's tongue. "Hey, I said he'd be alright, didn't I? He just wont arrive home on schedule."

Nixon laughed again and stood up. "Don't worry too much, alright? About Shifty or your letters. Everything'll work out eventually." He snickered. "Man, I never thought you were the type of guy who'd have to deal with unrequited love, Dick. It's weird to think of someone besides Sobel not liking you."

Dick managed a smile. "Yeah, I guess I thought so, too."