Day 1 – Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

It was normal for Sam Troy to have to wait a few minutes for Hans Dietrich to answer the door whenever he visited his friend in West Germany. "Normal" wasn't "ten minutes or more," though.

Troy stood with his hands in his pockets, and started wondering if he had caught Dietrich at a bad time. He's probably in the bathroom. No big deal. Some people like to take their time in there.

Another ten minutes passed. Now Troy was starting to get worried. His car's here. Maybe he's out for a walk. Troy hoped that was the case. He began walking toward the fence that surrounded the back and side yards. The flowerbeds in the side yard were looking very nice and orderly. The grass looked to be freshly cut. Troy's eyes followed the lines in the grass all the way to the back. Well, there's the push mower… and what's that lying next to it? Is that— "Dietrich!" Troy immediately threw himself over the fence and sprinted over to where Dietrich was lying passed out in a heap by the mower. It was already quite warm that day, which made Dietrich's lack of perspiration concerning. Troy gently pressed the side of Dietrich's neck, just under the back of his jaw, searching for his pulse. It was there, but not very strong.

"Damn it," Troy hissed to himself. "Are you sick or just dehydrated?" He looked over Dietrich for any signs of injury, but found nothing. "Alright, let's get you inside." It didn't take much effort for Troy to lift Dietrich up—he was light. A little too light. Troy adjusted his grip on Dietrich while opening the back door to get inside the house. He placed Dietrich on the couch, then cranked up the air conditioning before going into the kitchen and filling a glass with water. "Okay, Dietrich, let's see if this helps. Come on, buddy." Troy propped up Dietrich, then forced his mouth open so he could carefully pour the water in.

Dietrich responded almost as soon as the water touched his lips, grabbing the glass and gulping down its contents without stopping to take a breath.

"Easy, easy—" Troy gently pulled the glass away. "Breathe."

Dietrich looked greatly confused, but did as he was told.

"Okay, finish." Troy gave him back the glass. Once the glass was empty, Troy set it on the coffee table, then stayed by Dietrich as the skinny German tried to process his surroundings.

"Sergeant… may I ask… what year is it?" Dietrich asked.

"What year is it?" Troy repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Are you deaf? That is what I said."

"It's 1954."

"That explains a lot."

"Yeah. And you don't call me 'sergeant' anymore, just like I don't call you 'captain.'"

"Well, please, forgive me, but seeing you standing over me while I am dehydrated feels extremely familiar. For a moment, I wondered if the last ten years or so were a dream."

"No, they weren't a dream." Troy figured Dietrich's deadpan being present was a good sign. "You feeling better?"

"I am perfectly fine, thank you very much."

"Dietrich, I found you passed out in the backyard, next to your mower. That doesn't say 'fine' to me. What happened? Just dehydrated?"

Dietrich went silent.

"What's wrong?" Troy leaned in a little, pinning Dietrich to the couch with his frustrated yet concerned Arctic-blue gaze. He noticed Dietrich's eyes were bloodshot and bearing dark circles under them.

Dietrich looked like he wanted to squirm away, but with the back of the couch on one side and Troy and the coffee table on the other, there was no escape.

"I don't like silence. You're hiding something. What is it?"

"It is nothing. I was just dehydrated."

"Then why didn't you say so—" Troy was interrupted by a growl from Dietrich's stomach. He put his hands on his hips, giving a sigh of immense disappointment. "You didn't eat breakfast, did you?"

"That is none of your business."

Part of Troy wanted to grab Dietrich by his shirt and roughly shake him. Instead, he let out another sigh, and gave Dietrich a rather stern look. "We went over this… how many years ago? You need to eat. You need to stay hydrated. You need to sleep. You need to take care of yourself. It's. Not. Hard."

Dietrich now looked like he wanted to sink into the couch.

"When did you last have any water?"

"You are not a doctor."

"When did you last have water, Dietrich?"

Dietrich hesitated. "…Yesterday."

"When did you last eat?"

"Also yesterday."

"When yesterday?"

"Yesterday… morning."

"So, you've gone about 24 hours with no food or water."

"Yes."

"What the hell were you doing yesterday?"

"Cleaning the house… getting ready for you and your wife's visit."

"That is no excuse for you not to take care of yourself!"

Dietrich was running out of arguments, and looking more and more like he wanted to disappear into the couch and not be found until months later like a lost coin. "Well, I cannot exactly take care of myself with you standing there and glaring at me, can I?"

Troy finally gave him space. "Dietrich, what am I going to do with you?"

"I once said the same thing about you, although it was for different reasons."

Troy sighed and rolled his eyes. He went back into the kitchen, refilled the glass with more water, then returned it to Dietrich. "Drink. I'll make your breakfast."

A horrified look came over Dietrich's face. "You? Cook? No, thank you."

"I can cook."

"No, you cannot. Moffitt has told me how poorly your rations came out whenever you touched them."

"Those were rations. Doesn't count."

"Anah told me you once burned cereal."

"Okay, her word can't be trusted."

"She said you left a bowl of Cheerios by the stove, and that it created a rather interesting aroma in your house."

"That was an accident!"

"Tully told me you nearly summoned his grandmother's spirit by ruining grits."

"I've never done grits before!"

"Hitch told me his mother threatened to hit you with a rolling pin if you did not leave the kitchen because it seemed like everything you touched became a mess one way or another."

Troy's face was bright red now. "Okay, I get it! I'm not the greatest cook in the world! You still need to eat!"

"Then I will make my own breakfast." Dietrich slowly stood up. He looked dizzy for a moment, and braced himself against the wall.

Troy took the half-empty water glass from him. "I'm not sure which of us is a greater danger around a stove right now. I can't cook, and you can't even stand."

"You can make coffee."

"Dietrich, you're dehydrated. Coffee is one of the last things you need."

"I am thinking about the sugar."

Troy frantically looked through the fridge and cabinets for something sweet. He found a package of chocolate-covered cookies and tossed them in Dietrich's direction. "Sit at the counter. You look like you're about to collapse."

"You know, I will be fine once I have some of these. You do not have to do anything." Dietrich made sure he was braced against something while making his way over to the counter.

"I've already offered."

"And I told you that everyone has testified that you are a complete disaster in the kitchen. I refuse to let you burn my house down."

"I'm not going to burn your house down." Troy refilled Dietrich's water and set it in front of him.

"Alright. What do you plan on making—no, you are not using my stove! Put the eggs back!"

Troy had already set the carton of eggs on the counter and pulled a pan out from a cabinet by the stove.

Dietrich covered his face. "I am going to save this water for the inevitable fire that will break out."

"Drink the water, Dietrich."

Instead of drinking, Dietrich put a cookie in his mouth. He watched with clearly visible anxiety as Troy melted butter in the pan. "Today was supposed to be a decent day," Dietrich muttered. "Have mercy on my kitchen."

"I'm watching the eggs. There is nothing to worry about."

"With you involved, there is everything to worry about." Dietrich was starting to look better after water and a bit of food. Troy expected him to get up and try to stop him from wrecking the kitchen at any moment, but to his surprise, Dietrich stayed put.

Miraculously, nothing burned or exploded, and Troy put a completely normal plate of eggs in front of Dietrich, who was still eyeing everything with suspicion. Troy folded his arms over his chest. "So, what have we learned today?" he asked, smirking.

Dietrich hesitated for a moment. "That if I do not want you anywhere near my kitchen, I need to take care of myself."

"Not quite the answer I was hoping for, but I'll take it."