Gorman agreed to teach Dietrich some of what he knew in terms of hand-to-hand fighting, which had Dietrich wondering if Gorman was more advanced than Frost. However, it would be a few days before she could learn anything, as she was still being punished for hitting Towers.

She gradually began feeling more comfortable around Towers. The more they talked, the better she felt, and she certainly wasn't anticipating the next evening. After dinner, Towers invited Dietrich into her bedroom until lights-out.

"You probably didn't get to experience sitting in a friend's room, braiding their hair and talking about everything, did you?" Towers asked.

"No, actually, I haven't," Dietrich replied.

"I did. Before I chopped off part of my hair to enlist. Conversations were fucking shallow, though," Towers replied. "We won't do any braiding, though, but I do have a lot of pictures I want to show you. Come on, it'll be fun."

"OK . . . I'll see you in a few minutes, then." Dietrich turned to head to her room to shower. Did she just refer to herself as my friend? Do I think of her as a friend? Dietrich paused to think. Not sure yet. If it keeps my mind off Crowe not being here, though . . .

After showering, Dietrich put on her nightclothes and bathrobe before heading down the hall to Towers's room. She knocked on the door, and was let in a second later.

"I'm just running a comb through my hair, then we'll talk." Towers disappeared into her bathroom, leaving Dietrich sitting on the bed.

Looking around, Dietrich noticed Towers had several framed pictures on her dresser, and stood up to give them a look. One photo was her and Gorman at some kind of ball, maybe the ball she had been talking about the day before. They were standing with their arms around each other's shoulders. A second photo was them in their utilities, in the streets of Chicago. The third looked like it had been taken in a photo booth. They were in civilian clothing; Gorman was in a dark-blue sweater, and Towers was wearing an "ugly Christmas sweater." Gorman was grinning and covering his eyes while Towers kissed his left cheek. They looked like the best of friends.

"That was Christmas of two years ago."

Dietrich turned to see Towers behind her, holding a slightly tattered scrapbook. "It's . . . It's cute."

"Yeah, it is." Towers smirked. "He let me stay at his place for the holidays."

"And his wife was OK with that?"

"Oh, yeah. She didn't mind as long as I helped clean up. And she knew I didn't have anywhere to go."

"I thought you were on . . . moderately OK terms with your family."

"I am, but, I told you I have a very large family. I knew I wasn't going to have anyone to talk to, so I talked to Gorman, and he let me stay. There were just three people for Christmas Eve dinner. And two cats. It was one of the best Christmases I ever had."

"Bet it was weird seeing Gorman in a domestic setting."

"Nah. It was really adorable. He and his wife live in a brownstone-type house near downtown Chicago. It's very pretty, and cozy. I also didn't know Gorman can cook. Instead of turkey, he did Irish stew. Never had it. I wondered what he was doing with this big bag of potatoes and onions and this huge chunk of lamb meat. Lydia was the only person who could bother him while he was working. Few hours later, bam, there's a stew on the table."

"You didn't put salt in his drink while you were there, did you?"

"No. Not for Christmas. That'd be . . . a little mean. Christmas and his birthday, I leave his stuff alone. Besides, he got me-" Towers got off the bed, and opened one of the drawers on her nightstand. She muttered to herself until she found a small, flat box. "This."

Inside the box was a silver ring, decorated in a Celtic fashion. Dietrich was afraid to touch it, it was that lovely.

"You can pick it up if you want," Towers said.

"What exactly is it? I thought Gorman was married."

"It's not a wedding ring. It's called a Claddagh ring. Supposed to symbolize love, loyalty, and friendship."

"So it's one of those rings you can wear regardless of what your relationship status is?"

"Yeah. And he had this one customized with a garnet as the heart, because that's my first name. Garnet."

"That's really sweet." Dietrich turned over the ring in her hands. "Is it real silver?"

"Not a hundred percent. The garnet is real, though."

"So he laid down a pretty penny for this thing."

"Most likely, yeah. But, he said it couldn't cost more than the engagement ring he got for Lydia. If he couldn't bring the price down, he was going to settle on something else for me. Luckily, he was able to swap pure silver for silver coating on a cheaper band."

"Still . . . it's very pretty, and probably means a lot to you."

"Yeah, it does. I can't wear it with my BDUs, though, since it's not a wedding ring. I wear it when I'm in civvie clothes." Towers set the ring box down, and picked up her scrapbook. She carefully flipped through the pages, before landing on a photograph of her in a coffee shop. "Like here. There's my ring."

"When did you start putting this together?"

"Few years ago. I work on it when I don't have anything else to do. Just put pictures in and little trinkets and go through it whenever I want. It was helpful in the six months between Gorman being assigned to your unit and me being transferred here, because of how much I missed him."

"I can imagine after five years of working together, that was hard to go through."

"At first, yeah, and he promised he'd get me transferred as soon as something opened up. Usually, I eagerly await December because of Christmas. Last year, it was to be back with my best friend. That's all I wanted."

"So, you kinda know how I feel with Crowe right now."

"Yeah. I think things would be a little different if I had said that to you yesterday."

"Maybe. Who knows?"

"Things are better now." Towers turned the page of the scrapbook. "There's us in Greenland. Before we were trapped by a blizzard."

Dietrich couldn't help but grin at the photo of Gorman and Towers in the snow, laying on their backs in snow-angels.

"I kinda figured you'd complain about his snoring when you were staying in his apartment because I got to experience that when we had to get close together in the same tent. No amount of shutting his mouth and turning his head helped. He kept right on going, and I couldn't move, because there were no more tents and neither of us wanted to freeze to death."

"Did you try turning him on his stomach? I noticed he was quieter when he moved his whole body, not just his head and neck."

"No. Thanks for the tip, though. Hopefully we don't have to sleep in close quarters ever again, but, if we do, I'll remember that."

"You're welcome." Dietrich glanced at the scrapbook again. "I take it you're pretty much inseparable."

"You could say that. I do have other pictures with other people in here. Quite a bit, actually. I mean, some of them . . . I don't remember their names, but they're there."

"Do you have other friends?"

"I did. Um . . . I keep a photo of me and her somewhere else. PFC Brenna Wade. She was . . . She died on a mission right before the Cetii Epsilon Four War."

"I'm sorry."

"It's OK. It . . . It was so sudden, and I really . . . hadn't experienced grief before. I mean, I've had relatives pass away, but I hardly knew them and struggled to understand how my parents felt and cousins and the like, because I just didn't have the emotional attachment that they had. Now, here I was, experiencing it. Wade was . . . pretty much my girl best friend. I could tell her everything that I didn't think Gorman would understand-she was already in the unit when I was assigned, and I hit it off with her while simultaneously fighting with Gorman. It . . . felt like we were going to go through our contracts together, and then . . . I got out of the mission, and she didn't. I-I didn't see it happen . . . but it hit me like a freight train when I realized what happened. At the same time, Gorman's yelling at me to move and there's bullets flying everywhere.

"Afterward, when it was over, I didn't know what to do. I cried a lot, but after a few days, I tried telling myself that I had to pull past this, that . . . this is what happens in this line of work, and . . . maybe I shouldn't be getting so attached to people. Then . . . one morning, Gorman said, 'Hey, I haven't had salt in my coffee for three days. Is everything OK?' I broke down so hard in his arms, and I told him I loved him-as a friend-and that he meant the world to me and I wanted to say all that so I don't regret not saying it. I think that's why he invited me to stay at his place for Christmas and give me the Claddagh ring, because . . . he wanted to express the same things."

Dietrich adjusted the way she was sitting, and looked Towers in the eye. "I can't imagine it was easy for you to tell me about that."

"It was and it wasn't. Sometimes, I feel like I have to tell that story in order to explain to people . . . my relationship with Gorman, because they see us and they think he's cheating on his wife. I hate hearing that, and I imagine he does, too, so . . . I tell them what happened with Wade and they kinda understand. Kinda. They still think it's weird. Eventually, I . . . gave up."

"I'm sorry about that, too. You express your affections differently, and that's OK as long as you're not hurting anyone." And it's not like you have any romantic feelings for him. Not like I did with 'Ski. "I guess, since . . . since you told me that, I think I should tell you something that makes me uncomfortable whenever I think about it."

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Dietrich."

"No, I think . . . I think it'll help me continue to process it and get over it if I talk about it with someone."

"Alright. Go ahead."

"OK." Dietrich took a breath. "A few years ago, I . . . really didn't have any friends, and when . . . I started hanging out with Wierzbowski after tutoring him in first-aid, I realized just how much I wanted company, and friendship. Wierzbowski came into my life and became my best friend. Even more . . . I fell in love. Despite that, he . . . already had someone he loved. Someone he was perfectly happy with and wasn't going to let go of. Love was something I was a stranger to, and I wasn't sure what to do. I wasn't sure how to manage these feelings, and I didn't manage them. I let them go and I fantasized about having a relationship with him. My imagination ran wild. I wanted . . . everything. I wanted the love, and I wanted the hugs and kisses, and even the sex." Dietrich sighed. "I had so many dreams where I had sex with him. So many. It . . . There were dreams I really liked, but . . . I knew they weren't good. I knew that I was never going to get that . . . experience."

"Well, I know you can't do it with Wierzbowski, but . . ." Towers leaned in to whisper, "doesn't mean you can't do it with Crowe."

Dietrich nodded. "I just don't know if I'm ready. Anyway, I had a hard time accepting that Wierzbowski had gotten married and that his heart belonged to Eliza. His heart was never going to belong to me. Somehow . . . after all that, after I managed to find someone else, we remain friends."

"He knew about how you felt?"

"Yeah."

"And he was . . . OK with it?"

"He understood. We sat down and talked about it, and he never got mad. He wanted to help me as best he could."

"Dietrich, you are truly blessed to have someone who is that understanding of your feelings and chooses to help you rather than go the lazy route of saying, 'Then we can't talk anymore.'"

"Thanks." Dietrich looked down at the floor, then back over at Towers. "So . . . were you serious when you mentioned . . . I should have sex with Crowe?"

"I didn't say you should. I said you can, even though you had dreams about fucking somebody else." Towers shrugged. "Maybe having that experience with Crowe could further help . . . diminish your romantic feelings for Wierzbowski and strengthen your feelings for Crowe."

"Have you ever . . . done it?"

"No, but I've read enough trashy novels to know what you probably shouldn't do. And Wade had done it a few times before, and, yes, she told me what it was like. I may not have first-hand experience-I mean, the closest I'll get was probably that time I walked in on Gorman right after he finished a shower and he didn't exactly have a towel around his waist yet-but I will give you my advice and thoughts if you need it."

"If you're offering, I'll take it." Dietrich took a breath. "I don't think it should be the first thing to bring up next time I talk to Crowe."

"No. No, no, no. I would wait until he's physically here, and then . . . gradually introduce it to the conversation. He's probably not thinking about that right now, and probably won't care for awhile."

"Yeah. I get that."

"It gives you a lot of time to think about it." Towers squeezed Dietrich's shoulder. "I think you'll be OK. You're a smart lady. Whatever you choose to do, it's your call. I just hope you're happy with whatever decision you make."

Dietrich sat up in bed the next morning, taking a breath as she found she was back in reality. Her dream was still fading as she continued to wake up, but she could remember every detail.

It started as a peaceful dream. A sweet and tender moment between her and Crowe. A moment she wished she could experience forever.

That wouldn't happen here. Dietrich leaned in to kiss Crowe, and then pulled away to reveal she hadn't kissed Crowe, but Gorman.

"What's your problem, huh?" Gorman asked.

"W-Where's Crowe? He was right here." Dietrich felt her face heat up in shame. "I didn't mean it-"

"Well, you're right here, on top of me, clearly insisting on fucking me. Unless you're the most impressive sleepwalker I've ever met."

"Crowe was right here! I felt him!"

"Oh, you were feeling him alright. You were feeling me, too!"

Dietrich looked down to see she had her hands on Gorman's bare stomach. "Oh my God . . ." she breathed. "Where's Crowe?"

"Crowe's been gone for months."

"I thought he was only going to be gone six weeks."

"He can't come back. They removed him. Never to come back."

"I have to find him." Dietrich got off the bed.

"You're not going to finish what you started?"

"You're not Crowe! I can't do it!"

"You want it, though. Does it matter with who? You wanted it from Wierzbowski, didn't you?"

"I can't do it!" Tears streamed down her face, and she turned to the door. Wierzbowski . . . he can help. She put her hand on the doorknob, and opened the door to find an empty loading bay. Outside the hangar was a vast desert. "Oh, no . . . no, no, where are we?!"

"Not sure." Spunkmeyer walked up to her. "You look upset, Dietrich. Why don't we go talk in my room?"

"How did we end up here?" Dietrich shouted.

"Do I look like I have the answers?"

"Where's Crowe?"

"I don't know!"

"What's with all the yelling?" Drake appeared around a corner.

"You're not supposed to be here!" Dietrich yelled. She let out a scream before waking up.

The dream faded more rapidly as Dietrich got out of bed, pulling on her uniform as Hicks knocked on everyone's doors to wake up them up. In a few short minutes, she joined the others, following them down to the mess hall. She wanted to cry. Her dream didn't make sense, and she was missing Crowe more and more as the days went on.

After breakfast, Gorman approached her. "Ranelli's waiting in his office. Are you ready?"

Dietrich nodded.

"Is everything OK? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I had . . . a very bad dream last night. Just . . . I won't go into detail, but it didn't make sense. It was awful."

"I'm guessing it was one of those dreams that felt a little too real, like it was actually happened."

Another nod.

"I've had those before. No pleasant, but . . . I guess the best thing to say is that it's only a dream. You've been stressed the last few weeks, and that probably amounts to strange and horrible dreams."

"Yeah." Dietrich sighed. "Let's . . . not keep Ranelli waiting."

They walked down to the psychologist's office, finding him with his usual setup of tea and an assortment of pastries on a small platter. "Good morning, Lieutenant," Ranelli said, glancing up from the kettle.

"Good morning, Doc," Gorman replied.

"Now, you said over the phone that this appointment is to be completely private, no documentation."

"Correct."

"Is this for you, or Corporal Dietrich here?"

"It's for her."

"Alright." Ranelli smiled at Dietrich. "Have a seat, dear, and tell me-" he slid a cup of tea in front of her, "what's troubling you."

Dietrich opened her mouth to speak, then paused. "Well, I . . . w-when I was little, I was . . . diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, and I've been struggling to . . . to deal with all the . . . all the negative traits of it, for my whole life."

"Do you feel they cripple your daily life?"

"Sometimes, yes. I'm afraid that . . . I annoy people, or . . . that I'm too blunt with them, or that I don't show as much empathy as . . . maybe I should. I also become anxious very fast, because I overthink things."

"I haven't dealt much with either end of the autism spectrum. Mainly, I deal with mood and anxiety disorders among Marines, but, once in awhile, they've asked for my assistance for their children. I must reiterate that it's rare for me, so, please, forgive me if I'm not very helpful. Alright, based in my personal experience, the worst thing you can possibly do is give up. Give up and tell yourself and everyone around you that you're not in control, which would lead to you attempting to excuse every inappropriate action with your syndrome. Many will fall into the trap of believing that the world is against them just because they have this syndrome, which can be applied to more than just Asperger's, and they become sorely unbearable to be around. They choose not to learn, or push, or become better people. You, from what you're telling me, haven't fallen into that trap, and that is a major sign that you are doing better than you might think you are. I imagine your home life wasn't spectacular."

"Not really. I . . . wanted to leave so bad that . . . I lied to my recruiter about my medical history."

"Do you feel like being away from that environment has helped you?"

"In a way, yeah. I feel like I'm more independent. I feel more comfortable making my own decisions. I feel . . . less afraid of disappointing people. I was ready to plunge right into being a medtech, and no one could stop me. The problem was . . . inevitably, I wanted to be more social. I hated it when I was being forced to, but after being on my own, I realized I wanted friends, and I wanted to love, and be loved. I just didn't know how, and . . . that's when everything came back to bite me. I had a hard time starting conversations and I was brutally honest with people and I hated making eye contact with them. To this day, I still . . ." Dietrich's thoughts trailed, and she looked down at the floor. She took a deep breath when she felt Gorman rub her shoulder.

"Have you made any friends here?" Ranelli asked.

"A few, actually. Wierzbowski . . . was the first, and he helped me a lot. Frost taught me hand-to-hand combat. Crowe . . . became . . . my boyfriend." Dietrich looked up at Gorman. "Then there's Gorman. And . . . Towers is slowly becoming a friend."

"Do they all value you and appreciate you, despite your flaws?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do they help you with your flaws?"

"As best they can, sir."

"I'd say you have nothing to worry about, Dietrich. A small group of people is better than nobody, as long as they truly care for you. You have a desire to change, and I can imagine that is difficult to possess as someone with Asperger's, as it's incredibly common for you to be slow with most any changes."

Dietrich nodded. "I guess . . . this is a change I'm somewhat OK with. At the same time . . . letting people in is hard, because I'm afraid of pushing them away. Or vice versa."

"And miraculously, you've succeeded in not pushing away this small circle of friends you now have. Have you ever talked to them about your fears?"

"Not very often."

"Try it. That's how you strengthen your bonds."

Another nod. "OK. And . . . the other thing . . . Crowe's . . . Crowe's in recovery from surgery, and won't be back for six weeks. I . . . I want to know how to cope, because when I dwell on it for too long, I become scared he's not going to return."

"This can tie into what I suggested about communicating with the others within your circle, and the rest of your unit. Talk about your fears. Hiding them will just make it worse, and let your imagination run wild with them, which we don't want. While it's important that others listen to you and don't dismiss how you feel, it's also important that you listen to them and think about what they say, because they want to be validated just as much as you do. That's a way you can show that you do indeed have empathy."

"I . . . actually never thought about it that way before. I can . . . I can do that."

"Go and try it, and if you feel like you need more help, my door is always open."

Gorman closed the office door behind them as they entered the hallway. "So, how do you feel? Felt like that was helpful?"

"Well, he didn't dismiss me, or . . . lecture me the way people in the past have. I mean, he's right. I do need to talk more about . . . what I fear with people." Dietrich looked up at Gorman as they walked. "I've done that you."

"Yes, but remember he said you have to listen to what I say or what Wierzbowski says and so on. Basically he's saying you need to work on your communication, in particular, your listening. That would also have a lot of benefits for your romantic relationship with Crowe, if you think about it. Yes, he loves you, but you need to be able to show you love him back by being able to sit and listen to him when he wants to help you. You can't dismiss what someone says just because you think you're right. You need to think about it, question it, and then judge. Then again, your . . . way of thinking is very different from the way I think or Crowe thinks. You typically think logically rather than empathetically. There's nothing wrong with that, but different scenarios require different types of thinking. Get what I'm saying?"

Dietrich nodded. "I think so."

"It won't happen overnight. You'll get there. Like your chess skills."

"Didn't you say you'd teach me some different strategies?"

"I did say that. Why? Up for a lesson?"

"Sure."

"Let me go make sure everyone's behaving themselves, and then we'll play." Gorman headed toward the lounge, and Dietrich noticed Towers in the corner of her eye. She was holding something in a small plastic container.

"What are you doing?" Dietrich whispered.

"Shh! I'm putting a tack on his chair," Towers replied.

"Why?"

"Just because. It won't hurt . . . too much. Don't say anything." Towers disappeared into Gorman's office, then emerged five seconds later, laughing.

Gorman left the lounge. "I heard Towers out here. Where'd she go?"

"Oh, she was just . . . on her way to the pool," Dietrich replied, her face turning red.

"Alright." Gorman shrugged, leading Dietrich to his office. Dietrich saw the upturned tack on Gorman's chair, but didn't say a word. She took a chocolate from the candy dish, sitting and unwrapping it as Gorman pulled out the chess set.

"Alright, you'll get the second move this time. I want to show you how to-AAH!" Gorman stood back up, looking down at the chair. "Towers!" He ran out to the hallway, seeing her running away, giggling. "Get back here right now, young lady!"

Dietrich hunched in, trying not to laugh.

Gorman turned to her. "She told you about this, didn't she?"

"Yes!"

"I'm ashamed of you."

"I'm sorry!"

Gorman roughly tousled her hair. "Last thing she needs is a cohort. She does enough damage on her own." He paused. "It's nice to see you laughing, though. I think you'll be OK till Crowe comes back."

Question: How might Towers have bonded with the Marines who have left (Drake, Vasquez, Hudson, Wierzbowski)?