They say "war is hell" and they don't lie. It's hot and humid, and the Viet Kong ain't the only things out here trying to kill him. Hell, the platoon a few yards over got ripped up by their own air support, and Billy almost died from a snake bite a week ago. The dude's still shaky, but he's been cleared to fight so he's back on the frontlines.

Nancy's letters are an oasis for the soul, he even shares some of her sleuthing escapades with his unit. Good news is a precious commodity, and sharing is caring. It lifts his spirits, and the guys' as well, to know that back home, everything is still right.

9 months in, a new name shows up in her letters. Frank Hardy and his brother are some punks who get up to the same kind of mischief Nancy does. At first, she seems frustrated by their constant interference, but as time goes by, her tone becomes more and more fond of them and Frank's name shows up far more than is comfortable. His pals start teasing him about some punk kid stealing his girl while he's stuck grappling his way through the jungle in the armpit of the world.

Ned tries not to let it bother him. It's good for Nancy to have someone there. Besides, the longer he's here, the less likely it is that he's ever gonna live to see home again.

Ned's fellow sergeant gets newspaper clippings from his dad, and some of the articles are concerning. Ned knew that a lot of people were angry about the war, he'd seen the protests first hand at Emerson and had been in high school when the Kent State shootings were all over the news. Still, the stories he sees in the papers make him wonder if everything's just getting worse. He asks Nancy in one of his letters.

"You know everyone is angry, Ned," She says. "Don't worry about it. Just stay alive and come home."

By some goddamn miracle, he does come home. He steps off of the plane onto the tarmac and breathes in good old River Heights air. He honestly wasn't expecting a welcoming party, he hadn't told anyone he was coming home, but there standing in the airport by the luggage carousel is Carson Drew.

"Mr. Drew," Ned says, stretching out his hand.

"Welcome home, son."

"How'd you know I was coming home?" Ned asked, eyeing the older man as he reached to take one of the bags. "I didn't even tell my parents."

Carson smiled, "Your lieutenant is an old friend of mine. He's been keeping me informed on where you are, what you've been doing. He told me he thought you were planning on surprising everyone. I figured I'd come to give you a ride."

Ned's mother cries, stroking his hair as he buries his face in her shoulder. His father is silent, but he hugs him tight and Ned almost feels like he's small and innocent again. Like he isn't blood-soaked to his very soul. He places his things in his room, walks back down the stairs and looks Carson in the eye.

"Where is she today?"

"Nancy had class this morning, but she's got a case with the Hardy boys and she was planning to go check out a lead at the harbor afterward. They should just be getting there right about now."

Ned had imagined what his reunion with Nancy would be like from the moment that it'd actually sunk in that he was actually going to make it home. He'd never imagined this.

He arrives at the docks and Nancy and some punk kid are being cornered by two large, burly assholes in muscle shirts. He watches for a moment as the kid puts himself between the men and Nancy, almost instinctually. He has an intense feeling of deja-vu, a flashback to when that was him standing there, ready to punch the lights out of anyone who'd dare to lay a hand on Nancy. There's a heavy board laying on the ground beside him. He picks it up and moves quickly to knock out the larger of the two with a heavy blow before switching fully into marine mode to take out the other one.

When the dust settles, Ned turns away from the two unconscious bodies on the ground and looks into Nancy's pale face. Her blue eyes are wide and she's got a hand over her mouth. Ned has never felt so raw, so violent, so dangerous. He suddenly feels… this is a bad idea.

A cough sounds to his left and he turns to see the punk step forward. "Thanks, pal," The younger man says, stretching out his hand. Ned takes it almost reflexively. "Really appreciate you stepping in there, we – "

"Ned."

Nancy breathes his name as if it's a prayer and suddenly her arms are wrapped around his neck and he's drowning in the vanilla scent of her hair.

He's finally home.