They didn't find another sign of civilization until three o'clock that afternoon. A small town nestled within the coniferous forests just outside the easternmost boundaries of Yellowstone National Park. Troy was eager to get to a telephone to call Hitch's family and ask if Shauna had made it to North Carolina alright. Dietrich was eager to rest for a bit, but he still wasn't sure he wanted Troy to drive.

Before they found the town, though, Troy wouldn't stop asking to drive, and the more he asked, the more Dietrich said "no."

"Can I drive yet?" Troy asked.

"No," Dietrich replied.

Five minutes passed. "Can I drive?"

"No."

Ten minutes. "Can I drive yet?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Troy adjusted his tactics. "When we get to the next town, I'll get you a cake."

Dietrich snorted, doubting Troy would actually do that.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Absolutely not."

Troy sighed and slumped in his seat. "Can I drive for fifteen minutes?"

"Troy, what part of 'no' do you not understand?"

"I know what it means. I just really want to drive."

Dietrich heaved a much heavier sigh. At least Troy was being annoying. That was, shockingly, a good sign. Dietrich never thought he would see the day where he wanted Troy to be annoying.

Troy decided to go right for the jugular and ask the most annoying question of all. "Dietrich?"

"What?"

"Are we there yet?"

Dietrich clenched his jaw muscles, struggling to keep himself composed. It took all of half a second for that to fail, and he let out a growl of frustration. "Fine! You can drive when we get to the next damn rest stop! Just shut up for five minutes!"

"Thanks."

Dietrich groaned. "You are… welcome." He felt defeated, like Troy had once again driven through in a jeep and destroyed everything in sight. A devilish plan crossed his mind, though, and he smiled to himself. I will not readjust the seat for him.

Finding the town came as a relief for both of them. They went to a dimly-lit diner near the town center, and Dietrich was left to get a table while Troy asked to use a phone. Almost as soon as Dietrich sat down and began reading the menu, Troy walked over to him, looking a little irritated.

"Do you have change?" Troy asked. "I need a quarter."

Much to Troy's surprise, Dietrich produced a quarter from his right pants pocket.

"Okay, how do you have an American quarter?"

"I once came home from visiting Moffitt in Cambridge and found a couple of British coins in my trouser pockets. Still not sure how they got there," Dietrich said.

"Well, thanks. Are you going to want me to pay you back?"

"No. I am being generous."

"Aw, thanks." Troy ruffled Dietrich's hair. "You've always been pretty generous. You let us go a few times during the war. You get us Christmas presents—"

"Troy, go check on your wife." Dietrich went back to reading the menu when Troy finally left. He had visited Troy, Hitch, and Tully in the States several times over the course of the last eight years, but he was still surprised at how many different ways there were to make a burger.

He had about ten minutes of quiet before Troy came back. Troy sat across from Dietrich, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Shauna made it to North Carolina okay."

"Good. Are you going to relax now?" Dietrich asked.

"Yeah. I'm starving."

"Good."

"That's not something most people say 'good' to."

"Well, in this case, it is a good thing, because your mood has prevented you from eating normally over the last several weeks. Therefore, the fact that you are actually hungry is a good thing, because it means you are returning to your normal self."

"Okay. That makes sense."

"Am I allowed to ask how you are feeling?"

"Sure. I'm… eh."

"What does 'eh' mean?"

"It means…" Troy thought for a moment, "not good, but not bad, either. Somewhere in the middle. Eh."

"'Eh.' Alright."

"How about you, Dietrich? How are you?"

"Ask me after I have had something to eat."

Troy was quiet for a short while, especially when they received their food. He dug into his quite ravenously.

Dietrich gave him a somewhat concerned expression. "I think you should slow down."

Troy glared at him. "I've had nothing but cinnamon rolls that last two days," he said with his mouth full. "I'm happy to have something else for a change."

"Fine, but I am not pulling over if you are overcome with a desire to puke."

"I'm going to be driving for a bit, remember?"

"Yes, I remember." Dietrich returned his focus to his own food.

Troy changed the topic. "Shauna misses me. I said I miss her."

Dietrich looked at him. "Did no one teach you not to talk with your mouth full? It is extremely rude, to the best of my knowledge."

Troy rolled his eyes before swallowing what was in his mouth. "Fine. Did you hear what I said the first time?"

"Somehow. You and Shauna miss each other."

"It sounds like Hitch and his family are making her feel welcome, but she's kinda homesick. I don't blame her. I am, too."

"Do I need to tell her you insulted her cooking?"

Troy gave Dietrich a confused look. "When did I insult her cooking?"

"You said you were happy to have something other than cinnamon rolls. She made those cinnamon rolls."

Troy sighed. "That wasn't a remark against her cooking. Her cinnamon rolls are good, but I don't have a sweet tooth like you do and can just eat cinnamon rolls as my three main meals. I'd like a bit more variety."

"Oh," Dietrich said, a grin spreading across his face. "Perhaps I should have brought unsweetened—"

"Okay, that's worn out its welcome, Dietrich."

"Fine." Dietrich thought for a moment. "I should have brought some crabapples."

Troy gave him a dirty look, and Dietrich kept smiling at him.

Dietrich did have to keep his expression in check when they finished and paid for their food and headed back out to the truck. He suppressed a laugh when Troy got in the driver's seat—and sank down far below the steering wheel.

"Damn it, Dietrich, you didn't fix my seat!" Troy grunted.

Dietrich burst out laughing.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?!"

"I may have!"

Troy grumbled to himself while adjusting the seat, then said while Dietrich was getting in the passenger seat, "Hey, guess what?"

"What—ow!" Dietrich whacked his head on the roof of the truck when he sat up straight.

"I didn't readjust my seat, either."

Now Dietrich was muttering to himself while adjusting the seat and massaging the top of his head. "Very amusing, Troy."

There was a gleeful look on Troy's face now that he was driving. He didn't even wait for Dietrich to buckle his seatbelt when he tore out of the diner's parking lot, pinning Dietrich to his seat in the process.

"Troy, the speed limit is about twenty miles under what you are doing!" Dietrich hissed once he got his seatbelt on.

"I know, I know. There's no one else on the road ride now."

"We are not that far off from Yellowstone! And it is summer! Surely, we will hit—"

Troy spotted the rear bumper of a stopped car ahead, and slammed on the brakes hard enough to throw Dietrich forward, even with his seatbelt. They came to a stop a mere couple of inches away from the other car's bumper.

"—traffic," Dietrich moaned.

"Well, crap," Troy said.

Dietrich adjusted himself in his seat. "This is not the desert, Troy. We are in a place with roads and laws for those roads."

Troy sighed. "I'm aware of that."

"Are you? You were going sixty-five in a forty-five."

Troy offered no response. Ahead of them were countless cars, and it was impossible to see where they ended with the curve ahead. "Is all of this for Yellowstone?" he said, partly to himself.

"It looks to be that way. Reminds me of trying to drive through Nuremberg during Christkindlesmarkt."

"What?"

"Christmas market."

"Oh."

"I have gone a few times. There are Christmas markets all over Germany, but the one in Nuremberg is quite famous." Dietrich allowed an onslaught of memories to crash over him. "It used to be a tradition for Uncle Gerhardt and Aunt Miriam to take me—just me—to Nuremberg for the Christmas market. That did not exactly endear me to my brothers."

"Well, maybe they should've been nicer to you," Troy said.

"True, but perhaps it was not entirely fair that I was treated differently." Dietrich fell silent, trying to sort his memories. "We did not go the year that Gerhardt passed away, nor did we go when things began getting bad under the Nazis. I wish Miriam had lived to see one more, after the war ended."

"I'm sorry."

"It is alright. Going is not the same anymore, but I still do it. I went in 1949, when my depression had been fairly quiet and I felt like I could be around other people, just to do it. It was… strange. It was the first time I had gone without Miriam—or anyone. I wandered around aimlessly, had plenty of Lebkuchen, a bit of Eierspunsch—"

"Huh?"

"Lebkuchen are gingerbread cookies with nuts and honey, and Eierspunsch is similar to eggnog."

"With alcohol?"

"Yes. Anyway, I was quite slow when I was touring the market, because I would stop at each stall that Miriam liked to visit and just think. Think about everything she bought over the years, and how much every little decoration and ornament meant to her. When she died, her belongings, including her Christmas things, were sold. By then, I had been disowned by the family and had no say in what happened to the things she treasured so dearly. Everything she loved… gone. Just like that." Dietrich gave a quiet sigh. "I wish I had managed to keep some of those ornaments."

"The same thing happened with my grandparents' stuff," Troy said. "I did get what I was supposed to from the inheritance, but when their farm was sold during the war, I very nearly lost everything. David was the one who saved all those books I have from my mother when she went on her little rampage telling everyone that it was my fault the farm went under. That's all I have left of them."

Traffic moved forward a little. Dietrich didn't particularly notice, as his mind was elsewhere.

Troy spoke up again. "Christmas with my grandparents was fun. I wish you had gotten to experience it."

"I could say the same about Christmas with Gerhardt and Miriam," Dietrich said.

"Well… maybe some year, I'll come over to Germany and go with you to Nuremberg."

"You do not even speak German."

"So? You can translate for me. Besides, I think it'll be more fun for you if you're not going alone."

A smile tugged at the edges of Dietrich's mouth. "I appreciate that, Troy. Moffitt went with me in 1950. He brought his wife, and, yes, he brought Anah, too. It was sweet, seeing Moffitt and Vanora acting romantic together under the Christmas lights."

"Made you a bit jealous?"

Dietrich hesitated on answering that. "I… would not say that. I am happy for them, like I am happy for you and Shauna, Tully and Mabel, and Hitch and Molly."

"It's okay to say that you wouldn't mind having what we all have with our wives." Troy was quiet for a couple of heartbeats. "And it's okay to say that you wouldn't mind having children, like Moffitt, Hitch, and Tully do."

"I have not given much thought to having children of my own," Dietrich said. "I seem to have a gift with getting babies to fall asleep on me, which saved Moffitt a great deal of headaches when Jules was born." He glanced over at Troy, and decided to change the topic. "I would not be opposed to you visiting me for Christmas, just so you know. Just… be on your best behavior."

"I'll try." Troy sounded a bit distracted.

Traffic began moving again for a little while. Slowly, they made their way around the curve in the road. Dietrich could see signs for Yellowstone National Park, and more vehicles ahead of them, all headed in the direction of the park.

"There's a road to our right we'll be able to take out of here," Troy said. "We just gotta be patient."

Dietrich nodded in agreement. He wasn't sure what more he could say in order to keep the conversation going, or start a new one. He shifted to get comfortable and make an attempt to nap. His eyes had been closed for a few minutes when he heard the whispered lyrics of a song in a language he wasn't familiar with. The whispering gradually became a little more audible, then Dietrich thought, Is Troy… singing? That cannot be right. I must be hearing things. He opened his eyes, and glanced at Troy. Sure enough, he was softly singing, in what Dietrich assumed was Greek.

Troy's eyes darted to Dietrich when he got the impression that he was being watched, and he stopped, his face turning bright red. "What?" he said.

"Were you singing just now?"

"Uh… no. You heard… the radio."

"The radio is off."

"Then it was the wind."

"Yes, the wind sounds exactly like your voice singing in a foreign language."

Troy sighed. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was dozing off. Not fully asleep."

Troy kept quiet, his face still red.

Dietrich smirked, but he was genuinely trying to help his friend feel less embarrassed. "Tell me this, Troy, am I laughing right now?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"No."

"Well… no, you're not laughing right now."

"Does that provide an indicator to you about how I feel in regards to your singing?"

"I didn't… well… uh…"

"I am impressed, actually."

"Thanks?"

"No problem."

Troy still looked like he wanted to jump out of the truck while it was still moving.

"I promise, I will not say a word to anyone."

"You better. I was just about to say, I'll do whatever you want if you keep your mouth shut."

"Are you still planning on getting me that cake?"

"Yes. What kind do you want?"

"Anything made with custard would be nice."

"Done. Custard cake it is."

Dietrich was starting to feel bad about embarrassing Troy. Then again, they were the only two people in the truck, and Dietrich was serious when he said he wouldn't say anything to anyone. He tried to alleviate Troy's nerves by saying, "Moffitt can sing."

"I know," Troy said. "He's pretty good, too." He gave Dietrich a confused look. "When did you hear him sing?"

"A few times, actually. During one of the Christmases while you and the others were in Korea, I was staying at his place for a few nights, and while I was sitting in the parlor, having a cup of hot chocolate, I heard him start singing in the shower."

Troy started laughing.

"It gets better. Vanora was in the kitchen, and I heard her give this very dreamy sigh and say to Anah, 'He has such a lovely voice, doesn't he?' I stayed where I was, and, yes, I will admit that Moffitt is quite good at singing. It was not the kind of singing that makes one want to drive a dagger through their ears. Anyway, Moffitt came out of the bathroom, acting normal, but when he went into the parlor to see me, I said, 'That was probably one of the best renditions of 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' I have ever heard.' He turned about as red as you are now, and tried to claim that I heard nothing. Vanora said, 'Don't try to deny it, Jack, everyone heard you singing.'"

"Ah, so he'll sing for us, and his wife, but doesn't want to admit it in front of you."

"His denial lasted about two minutes. After that, he became more comfortable with the idea, and during a walk into Cambridge to see the lights, he decided to do a little caroling of his own. Fortunately, we were not going door-to-door."

"I had carolers come to my door once," Troy said.

"Really? All the way out there?"

"Yeah. I was pretty confused, too. It was also after eight o'clock at night, so I was getting ready for bed. I didn't want to be bothered with people singing Christmas carols on my porch."

"I cannot say I blame you. I would be a little annoyed, too."

They inched closer and closer to their next turn. What should have taken two minutes was taking about half-an-hour, but at least they had things to talk about. Dietrich admitted it was a little strange to be talking about Christmas when it was June, but it was something. It had gotten Troy to talk and smile. That was all that mattered.

Dietrich tried not to let that stop when they finally turned onto the empty road leading away from Yellowstone. Part of him was hesitant to ask what was on his mind, but he didn't want the question nagging at him for the rest of the day. "May I ask, Troy, what you were singing?"

"Greek Christmas carol," Troy replied. "Heard it countless times on a record that my grandparents had."

"Do you still have that record?"

"Nope. Wish I did, though." Troy was quiet for a moment. Shockingly, he was going the speed limit and no higher. "Just so you know, I can't—and won't—sing like Moffitt. Sometimes, if I start thinking about that particular song, it just… comes out, in a way. It starts playing in my head, I mouth the words for a bit, then escalate to whisper-singing it."

"Well, like I said, I will not tell a soul."

"Thanks. I'd like for both of us to take it to the grave."

"Fair enough, my friend. We will take it to our graves."

They managed to find another town just after the sun started setting. It was a very quiet place, with homes and shops that looked unchanged from when they were first built in the era of the Old West. Men walked around in cowboy hats, and would give Troy odd looks, as none of them had ever seen a pinned-up Australian slouch hat before.

The inn they stayed at only had a few other people bunking there. It was cozy and minimalistic, seeming as trapped in time as the rest of the town. Dietrich was glad to have his own room, but the walls were a bit thin. While trying to sleep, he could hear Troy using the telephone in the next room.

"I know I just called, Shauna, but we're staying somewhere for the night and I figured I'd see how you were doing," Troy was saying. He paused while Shauna spoke. "Dietrich's sleeping. I can't bother him while he's sleeping."

Dietrich knocked on the wall. "It is not exactly easy to sleep with the walls being thinner than Moffitt standing sideways!"

Troy knocked on the wall a few seconds later. "Shauna wants to talk to you."

Dietrich hadn't been expecting that. He got out of bed, pulled on his bathrobe, and headed into Troy's room, where the shorter man was holding out the phone. Dietrich took the phone, and watched Troy got out to the narrow balcony to have a cigarette. "Hello, Shauna," Dietrich said. "Your husband said you wanted to speak to me."

"I did. How are you, Hans?" Shauna asked.

"Tired. We still have a ways to go before we reach the coast."

"Alright. How is Sam?"

"Improving, somewhat. He misses you."

"I know. I miss him, too."

"How are things in North Carolina?"

"Going well. Irena called Tully's family and asked if they could visit. They'll be here tomorrow morning. I asked if there was anything planned and Irena told me that it was all for me. I'm shocked she'd do that."

"I told you, she is a very nice lady, and has done a lot for us."

"I should be thanking you, though, Hans, for suggesting this. I don't really like being pampered, but… maybe I needed this."

"I think you and Troy both need this."

"Sam's not getting pampered, though."

"I let him drive, and I have been paying for food and lodging."

"I guess in Sam's case, that's really all you need to do." Shauna sighed. "I'm looking forward to seeing him again, though."

Dietrich glanced over at the balcony doors. He didn't want Shauna to worry, but he wondered if it was a good idea to tell her about what happened the previous night. "Shauna, did Troy… discuss anything that has happened on this trip?"

"He really hasn't had a chance to talk about much. Why?"

Dietrich hesitated. "Last night, he became extremely anxious about whether or not you made it safely to North Carolina. We had a bit of an argument about how we would handle things if something did happen, and Troy told me he was tired of losing people." Dietrich stopped, wondering if perhaps this was enough. He let out a quiet sigh before continuing. "In his frustration, Troy said that it was preferable that he was hit by a train."

"He didn't mean that, did he?"

"He said he did not mean it."

"Do you believe him?"

"I do."

"You've been there, Hans. I trust you to help him if… something happens."

"I will do my best. Is there anything else you need?"

"Nothing that I can think of. I greatly appreciate everything you've done, Hans. Thank you."

"No problem. You will see him again soon. Have a good night, Shauna." Dietrich hung up, and stood to open the balcony doors. "Are you staying up for a little while longer?"

Troy shrugged. "Not sure. How's Shauna?"

"Doing well. Irena invited Tully and his family over to spend time with her."

"That was nice of her."

Dietrich nodded. "I… told her about what happened last night."

"Why?"

"I felt she should know. I told her that you did not mean what you said about getting hit by a train."

Troy fell silent, turning his attention back to his cigarette.

"She is trusting me to help you."

"I don't need help."

"Troy," Dietrich sighed, "I believe you when you tell me that you did not mean it, but I really hope my belief has not been misplaced."

"It hasn't." Troy finished his cigarette, and crushed it in an ashtray. "Why? Because when I said that I wouldn't mind going to Germany to go to that Christmas market with you, I meant it. I know how badly you'd be messed up if something happened to me. I don't want Shauna to be alone. I don't want to leave behind Moffitt, Hitch, Tully, and their families. I can't bear the thought of what would happen to you all. Just… can't."

Dietrich knew a lot had changed over the years, but one thing he couldn't see changing was Troy's loyalty to his team. That loyalty extended to the families his men had built after the war. It would take a disaster for Troy to leave all of that behind. Dietrich just wasn't sure if what had happened over the last four years could be considered a big enough disaster.

He returned to his room after bidding Troy goodnight, and lay awake in bed, trying not to let his thoughts run wild. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, but it didn't feel like much time had passed when he slowly awoke, and began feeling like someone was standing over him.

Dietrich jolted when he saw Troy by the bed, fully dressed, wearing his hat. "What the absolute hell are you doing in here?!" Dietrich growled.

"I came to wake you up," Troy said.

"Why?"

"So we can go."

"Troy, it is—" Dietrich took the clock from his nightstand, "—it is only seven in the morning!"

"This isn't the earliest I've gotten you up, though."

"Yes. I distinctly remember you standing over me in my tent in North Africa at four in the morning with a Thompson's muzzle in my face."

"Just to keep you there while Moffitt and the others blew up the ammo dump your unit was tasked with guarding. And to say 'hello.'"

"That day was standard fare from you, like you had a checklist."

"Yep. Punched every card for that mission. Only thing that didn't happen was you didn't capture us. We slipped away so fast you barely knew what was happening."

Dietrich sighed. "Indeed. You destroyed every vehicle. Not a single bullet in that ammunition dump was untouched. You killed most of my men, and I was unable to sound the alarm because you were holding me hostage in my own tent."

Troy grinned a little. "And yet, here we are, taking a road trip together."

"No, here you are waking me up at an unholy hour—"

"Seven AM is not an unholy hour."

"Whatever. You are waking me up when I did not want to be woken up. Now, unless you have brought me a cup of coffee, please get out of my room so I can get dressed."

"Well, I didn't bring you coffee, but I saw something in the bakery next door that I think you'll like."

"What did you see?"

"You'll have to get dressed and come find out."

Dietrich doubted that Troy had found something very interesting. It was probably more cinnamon rolls. Maybe just slightly bigger cinnamon rolls. As nice as that would be, that didn't warrant dragging Dietrich out of bed.

Troy was grinning while waiting for Dietrich outside his room. After they checked out of the inn, they headed to the bakery for breakfast. Dietrich expected to be unimpressed, until he was handed a filled white-glazed donut. "Alright. What is so special about a donut?" he asked.

"Taste it and you tell me," Troy said.

Dietrich maintained a skeptical expression until biting into the donut. He paused upon tasting a sweet flavor, one he particularly enjoyed. "Is there honey in this donut?"

"It's a honey-vanilla crème-filled donut. And there's honey baked into the dough."

"What did you do, Troy?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, no, you must have done something. Why else would you be luring me in here with a donut this good?"

"I'm doing something nice for you, as a thank-you for letting me drive yesterday."

"Is this what you are doing instead of cake?"

"Yeah."

Dietrich sighed heavily. "I would like a dozen of these, thank you."

They were soon on the road again with a box of twelve honey-vanilla donuts between them. Dietrich let Troy drive again, figuring it was best to trust him. At least Troy seemed to be in a better mood. Dietrich just hoped that was a sign of progress, and that they weren't headed for a downward slope. He remembered going through that when Hitch and Tully helped him shortly after his suicide attempt. They both got used to Dietrich cycling between being depressed and being somewhat happy, and Dietrich didn't think he would ever break out of that cycle.

Nine years later, he was out of that cycle.

Just keep pushing Troy upward, and do your best to not let him fall, Dietrich thought. We will get him there. He is nowhere near as bad as I was a decade ago.

Things were quiet for the first few hours of the drive. Traffic was minimal, and Dietrich realized that they had crossed into Montana yesterday.

Troy noticed it when they passed by a sign for various towns and cities in Montana. "Huh. Guess we're not in Kansas anymore."

Dietrich glanced at him. "We never were in Kansas. Have you lost what little marbles you possess?"

"It's a quote from The Wizard of Oz. I know you've seen it."

"Of course I have. I just find it to be a bit absurd to reference here."

Troy sighed.

"Am I being difficult?"

"No, you're just being a smartass."

Dietrich grinned.

"I do feel like we're slowly going back to how we usually are. I'm starting to feel like… me again."

"Good. That was what this mission was supposed to accomplish."

"You saw this as a mission?"

"No. And yes."

"I thought you were helping a friend."

"I am helping a friend. That is my mission."

"Seems a bit… cold to call it a mission."

Now it was Dietrich's turn to sigh. "Fine. I chose my words poorly. It is not a mission. It is… helping a friend."

"I remember when you practically gagged every time you called me that. And you once told me that you thought that if we had encountered each other any other way, we never would've been friends."

"I have thought about that on occasion."

"Do you still think that at any other point, we never could've been friends?"

Dietrich shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe we were destined to be brought together somehow." He gave Troy a rather grim expression. "If you did not know me, what would have happened when you found out you were incapable of having children?"

Troy's smile faded swiftly. "I… don't really want to think about that."

"There are quite a lot of unknowns here. Maybe we both would have been a lot happier if our lives never crossed. But, our lives crossed, and now we cannot uncross them."

"Nope, and to be honest, I don't want to."

Dietrich liked what he was hearing. "If we were to go back to Wyoming right now, and called Shauna to have her return, do you think you would be able to resume life as normal?"

"Partly."

"Partly?"

"Yeah. I just… don't know what to do next. Do we keep trying, or do we give up?"

Dietrich wasn't sure there was a right or wrong answer to that question. "It is possible that you have not been lucky. I will leave that up to you."

"I think I've proven that this shouldn't be left up to me, because I can't decide. I really can't."

"Well, I am not comfortable deciding for you. I have no idea what the right choice is."

Troy's shoulders slumped.

Dietrich bit back a curse. Was I not just hoping when we started driving for the day that we were making progress and not stuck in a cycle?

"We'll figure it out."

Dietrich glanced at Troy, unsure if he should be relieved or surprised. "Yes. Yes, we will." He looked out the window, and chose relief.

Author's Note: The card-punch exchange is based on a conversation between me, Texaslass2000, and Tallsunshine12 on AO3.