Don woke up suddenly, torn from his sleep by a abrupt bump. He rubbed his eyes with a groan and let his temple fall back against the train's window. The forests and mountains of the countryside had given way to busy roads and skyscrapers. The air had warmed up since Minnesota, carrying in its breeze some sweet autumnal scents. Wardaddy stirred in his seat and let out a small sigh. He was tired from his trip to say the least. The sergeant had never traveled much before this damn war that paid him a nice tour of the European and African coasts. Surprisingly, he had somewhat enjoyed his new globe-trotter livestyle of the last week. The man, nevertheless, feared Norman's reaction. He was about to invite himself in his corner of the country without warning. Not that he hadn't thought about it, but of course a thunderstorm had had to bust the already questionable telephone line a few days prior his departure. Well. This would have to be a surprise. The train stopped. Obviously, he wouldn't have more time to think about it. The veteran rubbed the last traces of sleep off his face and prepared to leave the wagon.
He never called him back. Norman had been patient, though. After a few days though, despite his best efforts, he gave up. Whatever. He would go knock at his door himself if he had to. Anything to escape the suffocating silence of his house and the dark side glances of the neighbors.
So there he was, sitting on a wooden bench at the station, ready to leave by the first train that stopped. Gordo had told him that he lived in Chicago. It was always an option. Yet... it still felt strange to be leaving. Wrong, though why he couldn't tell.
A train finally entered the station, making the ground slightly shake. Norman took a big breath; there was no time left to think his choice over.
The hubbub of the train station reached Don's ears before he even got out of the wagon. The doors finally opened and a wave of passengers swept the train. Wardaddy stayed in his seat for a moment. He was in no rush to get out. He still needed time to figure out how to find Norman. If he was honest to himself, he had absolutely no idea what to do, nor even where to begin. Now this would be fun.
Norman grabbed his bag as soon as the first passengers got out of the wagons. He repositioned his cap on his head and stepped into the crowd, determined to disappear for good. A shadow in one of the windows briefly reminded him of the sergeant's build, an idea that the young man quickly kicked out of his mind. He had to stop thinking about him, or he would go insane.
The agitation having now died down, Collier put on his jacket and went up the corridor towards the exit. Then, as he stepped on the first step, a sudden impact sent him stumbling back. Goddamnit, he wasn't even one step in that town and he'd already crossed a fool? Don, in his hurry, somehow managed to grab his interlocutor by the sleeve of his shirt. He was neither very tall nor very big, and in his piercing blue eyes could be read some unparalleled surprise and confusion. Those blue eyes that seemed oddly familiar...
Lost in his thoughts, Norman didn't notice the figure striding in his direction. The shock of the collision had him nearly flying backwards. His brain stopped working for a fraction of second, before a solid grip around his shoulder brought him back to reality. A particular smell attracted his attention. It was a curious mix of strong coffee, spruce and nicotine. When it finally clicked, the realization hit him harder than the guy who'd just head-butted him. There was only one person, to his knowledge, who wore this fragrance so well.
Only one.