A/N: And now back to story present in April of '73.
Bonus - Week 17 - UDC 10 - Perspective
Xanthic
"Does it make me a coward if I don't want to ask for more details?"
The question came during their story hour and Walt couldn't help but feel stunned as he set the book down to stare at Pete, sitting cross-legged on the bed with Nick beside him. Nick, for his part, had simply turned to look at him. "Details about what?"
"Mr. Jenkins would never bring a friend like that, two days in a row, without it meaning something," Pete explained. "And he never talks about Korea with me, except the once when I asked him if he'd been military."
Walt nodded slowly, then shook his head. "No, Pete. It doesn't make you a coward at all if you don't want details right now. Why the invite to church?"
Pete looked away, toward the dresser where the original envelope had been joined by the second one and worried his lower lip for a moment or two. "He reminds me of Dad, the last time I saw him off with Mom. Shadows that he wouldn't or couldn't talk about, always in his eyes. I didn't know how to describe it then, but now..."
"Now, you can put it to words," Helen spoke up from the doorway.
Pete nodded and gestured for the book. "And it'll do Mike good, just like it did me, to be there, right?"
Walt smiled and handed the book over. "I like that consideration." Especially considering that, judging by how Richard Mitchell's status had gotten classified, there hadn't actually been a funeral because officially he was Missing In Action.
Vermeil
It was so sudden that she wasn't sure what had woken her up as Sonia sat there, blinking into the darkness of their bedroom. A noise came again and just as suddenly as she'd woken, Alan was moving, putting his bathrobe on and telling her to check on the kids. "You expected a nightmare."
"So fresh from deployment, in an unfamiliar city? I expected it his first night here."
Of course he did, Sonia thought as she got out of bed and pulled her own bathrobe on. "Need any help?"
"It's not too different from having a traumatized kid on our couch," Alan told her after a moment as he pulled the door open. "Just this one is a pilot and taller."
Lavender
The mess of blankets on the floor was expected, Alan observed as he entered the living room and turned a lamp on. The newly-woken Aviator on his couch, holding his knees and panting, with dilated eyes was also expected. Slowly, carefully, Alan joined him and waited until Mike's breathing slowed and he was looking back at him. "Honestly, I'd expected you to have nightmares two days running. Was it seeing Pete in the flesh that did it?"
Mike nodded slowly. "Maybe? I'm sorry-"
"Don't be." Alan motioned to the telephone. "Call your wife."
"I don't want to wake her."
Alan turned and looked at the clock they kept in the living room... "It's one-thirty. I don't think you'll be waking her."
"You're sure?"
He turned back to look at him with a surly expression. "Would I have suggested it if I wasn't? Call her."
"It's expensive," Mike said eventually.
Alan smiled. "Send me a check if it'll make you feel better. That's a consideration, and thank you for thinking of it, but-"
"Thank you," Mike interrupted and reached for the telephone.