A/N: Well, I randomnly wrote chapter 4 – As I did so, I noticed how different my style is in this than in the first 3, since they written a while back and I've changed and developed allot in my writing – So that's cool to me – Anyway, please read and review! Thank you! ^_^

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Chapter 4

Seeing is Believing

For a long time, Rafe sat there. He reeled in the aftermath of reading that letter, running over the words over and over in his head. He could hear Danny's voice speaking them, clear and yet shadowing each other. He understood everything, now; everything was worthless. Everything was worthless in those moments, when his best friend lay down the hall, gambling with Death. Danny had never liked gambling, considering it usually went hand-in-hand with drinking. Sure, the two of them would have their shots, their cold beers and watch the important things in life – but Danny had never gone too far. His father had been enough.

After the afternoon had dwindled down to the golden hour, Dolittle dropped in to say that he could see Danny. Rafe only nodded, unaware of Dolittle's pause and gaze of pity, unaware of the door shutting quietly. The letter fluttered in the draft, still unfolded in his lap, at the tips of his fingers. During his wait, Rafe had made a very distinct, clear decision in his head. His previously disorganized list of priorities were now put very much back in order. He looked up from thought to see the dark gold of sunbeams streaming through the window, and he remembered Tennessee. He remembered youth that had fled them so quickly, every moment that he had not valued enough because children never think that those moments will slip away. He remembered when there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he would live forever, that Danny would live forever, and that they would be best friends for that long. Just the two of them. No one else in the world – just them in a plane, with the rest left behind on ground. He remembered when Danny was all he needed; his chest ached to think of that time so long ago, because whether or not he realized it, deep down he missed it. Rafe remembered when it was good enough to sit in his daddy's old plane in the barn, with Danny behind him, with no desire for war or women or glory. Danny had been enough; friendship had been enough. The golden fields of Tennessee had been enough of a world for them. And that same sunlight had been enough warmth, enough to light the wheat up like a painting and make him feel like life was perfect with Danny lying next to him.

When had it become less than enough? If only they had stayed in Tennessee, stayed hidden in those wheat fields, sleeping away the golden afternoon. Perhaps then, they wouldn't have had to worry about women or war or death. Perhaps then, they could have been happy with simplicity. Perhaps they wouldn't be torn apart now. Rafe knew regret would not change what was, and he pushed it to the back of his mind for the time being. Refolding the letter and tucking it snugly in his own left breast jacket pocket, where his own already resided, Rafe got on his feet and strode to the door. He paused for a moment with his hand on the knob, and he could feel the sunbeams on his back.

Rafe braved the walk down the empty, bleak hallway, tall and stiff and somber. It reminded him too much of Pearl Harbor's hospital, of the massacre, of Evelyn. Flashes of his whole life attacked him as he traveled the hall, and he nearly flinched. But he couldn't be shaken now; he had to be Danny's rock, his pillar of strength. Just like always. He hardly gave Dolittle and the others a look as he passed them just before he reached the door of the ward. All eyes were on him, and his own were hard on the door. Another pause, another lingering hand on the doorknob. He stifled a sigh, remembered the letter in his jacket, and opened the door. He disappeared behind that door as it closed behind him, and the others exchanged looks.

The ward was dim, despite the row of unobstructed windows at the other side of the vast room. The sun was hidden at this part of the building, and clouds cast things in gray. Only a few of the may beds were filled, the empty ones neatly made with white linens and full pillows without the impression of a patient's weary head. The row of beds set against the right wall had only one filled, and Rafe's eyes recognized Danny without a second thought. Something glimmered in them, as he stood there. After pausing, wondering if he was ready for this, Rafe cautiously approached the bed, his boots sounding quietly on the tiles. As he neared the bed, he could see that Danny lay motionless, his dark eyes closed. He hardly looked as if he had come upon the threshold of death. In fact, Rafe could have made himself believe that Danny was only sleeping because it was damn near impossible to do so on the plane back home. Before he got any close, Rafe remembered Danny could sleep on the plane, as long as Rafe's shoulder was empty for his head.

Rafe didn't breathe. His eyes were fixed on Danny's face, and he noticed how young his best friend looked. Damn, they were young. Rafe had learned that after nearly dying in England. If it had been any other time, he would have laughed at a sudden memory of himself telling Danny that he was nearly an old man at 25. He crept closer still to the bed, slipping into the chair that had been placed there for him. Once he was settled in the chair, he let his eyes roam over his best friend. Danny looked real clean, he thought. He was wearing some kind of a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His arms lay over the white sheets and coverlet, which were pulled up to his collarbone and tucked under his arms. An IV had been inserted in his left wrist and taped in place. He looked up at the water dripping within the plastic bag; somehow, it worried him more. Danny's head rested on the pillow, with his nut-brown hair laid across the white. He breathed easily, barely heard. Rafe's eyes returned to his best friend's hand and those familiar fingers. He sighed through pursed lips and reached out tentatively until his hand held Danny's.

"I'm here, Danny," he said, looking at his best friend's sleeping face. "I'm here." For a split second, Rafe looked at Danny and saw the little boy sleeping in the fields with sun on his face. Then the little boy was gone, replaced by the pilot, the man he had grown up to be.

"Danny, I'm so sorry," Rafe admitted. "I read your letter, and I get it now. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I get it now." He stopped for a moment, met with silence.

"Look, I know you can hear me, so I'm just going to talk." He stared at Danny hard, gripped his hand. "Danny, I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, and I've always loved you, since we were little boys. You're my best friend, damn it. You've always been my best friend, and I know it because you told me that day in the field when your father came after you. I've loved you all this time, and there was never a part of my life that didn't have you in it. We dreamed together," he choked as his eyes searched thought for words.

"And all our lives we wanted to get our wings. And we got 'em, Danny. We flew. But we never flew alone. I never wanted to fly alone and I never will, so don't you give up on me, Danny Walker." He had raised his voice at the last words, not caring if any of the Chinese heard him. He gave Danny's hand another squeeze.
"I know I let things come between us. I'm sorry, Danny, I really am. As much as I love Evelyn, as much as I wanted to go be a war hero, I never should have let it come before you. I can see it, now. I can see how much I love you, and how much – " He had to bite his lip to keep from crying. "How much it would hurt if I lost you. I held you out there, Danny. I held you while you were bleeding all over me, crying with you, and feeling you die in my arms." The tears came anyway.
"And I thought it was over. I thought you were gone, and it hurt so much. And then I wake up to find out you're still with me. And I read your letter, and, shit, Danny... I finally understand." His lip quivered with fallen tears as he stopped and looked at Danny wordlessly.
"You can have Evelyn," he muttered. "You can have everything, Danny, just don't let go." He almost whimpered the plea, bit his lip again as the tears welled up and dispersed. "Don't let go." He bowed his head to Danny's hand wrapped in his own and wept. "I won't let go," he whispered. "I won't ever let go of you, Danny. I love you." It was another whisper, another beautiful whisper. "I love you like my brother... And I don't have wings without you."
Rafe had poured out his heart and lain down his soul before his best friend and God. He only hoped that now since he understood, they would too. He pressed his eyes shut and reached for Tennessee, reached out for youth and sunshine and golden laughter. He reached for Danny, for hope. "Land of the free," he breathed.

They were running through the wheat, laughing for the world. The sun embraced the whole earth, shone on their faces, wrapped them up in warmth. The wind teased the swaying fields and their tousled hair. The thrill of flying was still rising in their souls, lifting them up like birds with their own wings to keep forever. Danny was ahead of him, just because he let Danny win at everything. But he wanted to catch up this time, and Danny was running faster than ever before, with footsteps light enough to barely leave prints in the dirt. He called after his friend, asking him to wait up. //Wait for me.//

"Home of the Brave."