I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing this story. It really means a lot to me that so many people are actually enjoying it.

"So how did it go?" was the first thing he was asked when he got back from Battalion Headquarters to where his friend was sitting, his rifle pulled apart on front of him. Tim gave a slight shrug at Doug's question, still finding it rather strange that it was just the two of them left.

After Mason's death, they had ended up shipping Connor back home, despite not being anywhere near finished his tour. Something inside of him broke after witnessing that event. Something that wouldn't be easy to fix, especially not if he stayed over here any longer. No one thought any less of him for it. Tim's stomach still turned when he thought of Connor just lying there in the middle of a battlefield, wearing parts of Mason. He could hardly imagine how Connor himself must have felt, seeing as he had been the one closest to the blast.

He had been surprised he'd managed to mostly get a grip on himself, at least enough to hide what he was thinking when others asked. It still didn't change the fact that some nights he woke up in a cold sweat, that scene playing over and over again in his head.

"Fine," he replied, forcing himself to stop thinking about the incident. Thinking about it wouldn't change a fucking thing. Doug continued to stare at him, as if expecting more than just 'fine'. He supposed it the positions were reversed, he'd expect the same thing. "They promoted me. First Sergeant."

When Battalion called him in, that was the last thing Tim had expected to hear. Part of him had expected to hear that he was going home, that he, like Connor, had finally snapped. He had been hiding it well but sometimes even the best couldn't hide it forever. Instead, they had shaken his hand, told him he had performed well under fire and promoted him to First Sergeant all within a matter of half an hour, leaving him reeling from how fast it had all happened.

He still wasn't quite sure what he thought of that idea but he figured it was something he needed time to get used to. First Sergeant. Hell, he wasn't quite sure how that happened. All he had done was his job. Doug gave him a grin, clapping him on the back.

"Congrats man," he told him, clearly pleased with his friend and the promotion he'd been given, though Tim found himself feeling mildly uncomfortable with it all. "I can't think of anyone else who'd make a better First Sergeant."

In all honesty, Tim could think of at least half a dozen other people who would have made a better First Sergeant than him. And one of those people was currently staring right back at him, a wide grin on his face. But Doug had never wanted to be anything more than a field sergeant. Which was how Tim knew he was sincere with what he was saying.

"Thanks," he replied awkwardly, shuffling his feet as he did, the next part of his sentence coming out as a fast mumble. "I better get started on a letter to Darcy, just to let her know about what's happening."

He hadn't realised it was possible for a person's smile to get any wider without their whole fucking face cracking but the moment he said that, no matter how quick and under his breath it had been, that was exactly what he had witnessed.

"So when are you actually going to get off your ass and ask that woman out?" Doug asked him innocently, causing Tim to swear internally, knowing he had walked straight into that one. He should have just kept his mouth shut. "As much as she must love you to put up with your bullshit, she's not going to wait forever."

"She deserves better. Someone who isn't going to wake up in the middle of the night screaming because he thinks he's back over here," the sniper muttered. Someone who wasn't constantly putting his life in the line of fire, who could be there for her. Someone who wasn't a complete fuck up.

It was one thing for Tim to be in love with the woman who had been the one constant thing in his life since they'd met, but that didn't mean she needed to feel the same way. Hell, she had a stable life back in the States. She didn't need someone like him. Not wanting to fuck everything up for her was the main reason Tim hadn't told her shit about what he felt. That and he had no fucking idea how to discuss emotions without seeming like a fucking mental case.

Doug just gave him that look he reserved strictly for people he thought were fucking idiots. "What the fuck would you know Gutterson?" he asked. "Have you ever considered asking her what she needs? Or are you just being a chauvinist asshole and making assumptions instead? You think she sticks around simply cause you're pretty? If she wanted that and nothing else, I'm sure she could have her choice of men without all the drama involved. But no, she's still here because she actually cares about you. You know when you were shot, she freaked out. She thought she lost you Gutterson. You should have heard the relief when I told her you were fine."

Tim opened his mouth to reply, but was instantly cut off by the rest of Doug's lecture before he could. "You know, I think that maybe, just maybe, she loves you just as much as you love her. Not sure why seeing as you're kind of an asshole but she does. So get your shit together and let her know before you lose her."

Finally finished, he sat back, leaving Tim standing there, speechless and completely unsure of what just happened. It had been a while since he had heard one of Doug's 'You're a fucking dipshit' speeches, though he had to admit most of the times they weren't directed at him. He was beginning to understand how the new recruits felt when they fucked up.

He opened his mouth to say something again but then closed it, deciding against it. Telling Doug he was right wasn't quite as bad as telling one of the others the same thing but he wasn't quite sure he wanted to hear 'I told you so'.

Dearest Darcy

I know it's been a while since I've had any good news or even just something normal to talk about that doesn't involve someone getting shot at or dying. But we've been pulled off the front line for a while, so hopefully things should go back to being relatively normal for a while. At least, as normal as things can get over here.

Connor went home the other day. The pressure of it all finally ended up getting to him. None of us blame him for it though. War can be hell sometimes. I suppose the only difference between the two is that there aren't any innocent bystanders in hell. So that just leaves Doug and myself now. It's rather strange just having the two of us now. You don't really appreciate others until they're gone, do you?

HQ decided to promote me today to First Sergeant. It came as a shock, all things considered. Not really sure if I'm the right person for the job. I'm sure there would have been others who would have been better suited. Writing that, I can just picture you telling me that I'm wrong. Seeing as you're the voice of reason and all that.

So I'll just do myself a favour and listen to you before you even write back telling me what I already know. That's probably the smartest thing I can do, huh Darcy?

I haven't had the chance to ask how it went informing Mason's girlfriend of what happened. You know you really didn't have to do that. It is the army's job but I think she might have appreciated that more than hearing from it over the phone. Maybe if you get the chance later, you can tell me all about it.

Well, I've run out of shit to write about this time around so I'll finish this here. Let's hope the next time I hear from you, everything's going perfectly fine at home as well. Sorry for dragging you into my shut over this last week.

Tim

As she came to the end of the letter, Darcy found herself facing conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was sad to hear about Connor and how things had finally gotten to be too much for him (it sounded strongly like he was facing PTSD) and on the other, she was pleased to hear about Tim's promotion to First Sergeant.

He had been right about one thing. She certainly would have agreed with him as the choice for the position. After everything that he had been through, and the way he had managed to keep moving through it, that made him a fine example for a leader, even if he didn't believe it.

"Is that from the mystery boyfriend?" she heard her work colleague Veronica ask as she scooted into the chair beside the brunette, taking her break while she could. Darcy felt her face flush slightly under her friend's gaze, all the while shaking her head.

"Not so much boyfriend as just a friend," she explained, her cheeks still mildly warm as she tried to fight that feeling back down. "Tim Gutterson. He's the soldier I picked up in that charity drive. We've been writing to each other for a while now."

Veronica just gave her a wicked grin, as if she didn't believe her. Sighing, Darcy couldn't quite blame her. She hardly believed herself anymore when she kept repeating that lie. They had been through too much together, despite being separate by a goddamn ocean, to be classified as 'just friends'. Though she wasn't sure she'd call him her mystery boyfriend either.

"Here," she said to the other woman, pulling out his latest photo, and catching sight of the First Sergeant stripes now on his uniform. She felt the corners of her lips turn up into a proud smile upon seeing them. "This is Tim."

Veronica took the photo from her hands, giving a low whistle of approval, causing the blush that Darcy had fought so hard to get rid of to reappear within a matter of moments. Perhaps handing Veronica the photo hadn't been such a great idea, though the reaction was one she should have expected.

"Damn girl, no wonder you've been keeping the mystery soldier under wraps. He's fucking hot. I'm surprised he doesn't already have a girlfriend. He's sure something. You ever fantasise about him?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner, as she handed the picture back to Darcy. "Especially in that uniform?"

"Oh my god, I'm leaving," the brunette told her, causing Veronica to laugh. She could feel the tips of her ears burning in embarrassment. In a sense, she was rather grateful that Tim was in Afghanistan because at least then she wouldn't have to face him after this conversation. It was going to be hard enough onto write to him now. "This was not a conversation I was planning on having today or any other day for that matter."

She hastily stuffed the letter and photo back into the opened envelope, trying to focus on that and nothing else in order to get rid of that damn blush. There was no way in hell she was going to admit that, yes, she had thought about it a couple of times. Anyone in their right mind probably would have. She wasn't any different from the rest of them.

"You have," Veronica squealed, her hands clapping together in glee, figuring it out from Darcy's refusal to talk about it. She had pretty much given up trying to get of the blush by now. It appeared to be a waste of time. "I mean, not that I blame you. He is very handsome. I know I sure would."

"I am not talking about my non-existent sex life," she groaned, pushing the chair away from the table, hearing it clatter in her hurry to get back out to the front room, despite the customers and their inquisitive glances they would no doubt be throwing in her direction due to her appearance. "Especially not at work."

"This conversation isn't over missy," she heard Veronica call after her, causing Darcy to stumble over her own feet. For some reason, Darcy really didn't doubt that.