Day 7

The sound of the crowing rooster roused Troy and his wife, Shauna, from sleep. It was already pleasantly warm that morning, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Better yet, it was the time of year when Dietrich spent a few weeks on the ranch, both to help out and to spend time with Troy. It was still strange to think about how much had changed between Troy and Dietrich after they had been bitter enemies throughout the tail-end of the campaign in North Africa. They both considered it fortunate that all of that was in the past, and they could move on as friends.

Shauna got dressed before heading downstairs to make breakfast, while Troy went into the bathroom to shave. After leaving the bathroom, Troy took notice that he had heard nothing from the guest bedroom, where Dietrich was sleeping. Well, it is a long flight from Germany to here. He's probably wiped out, Troy thought. He let Dietrich be, and went down to the kitchen. A grin crossed his face when he looked at his wife, and gave her a hug and kiss while she was mixing batter for waffles. "Good morning, sweetheart," Troy purred.

"Good morning, Sam," Shauna replied, smiling back at him. "You smell nice."

"I just shaved." Troy nuzzled her.

"Oh, so you're smooth and soft now." Shauna set her spoon down to touch her husband's face. "You feel so nice."

"Thanks." Troy gave Shauna a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too. I got coffee started, by the way."

"Thank you. I have a feeling Dietrich's gonna need it. I think he's still in bed."

"Poor thing. Yes, let him sleep. Not sure how much longer that'll last once I get breakfast cooking. I premade cinnamon rolls last night and all I have to do is put them in the oven."

"I can do that for you," Troy said, kissing Shauna again.

"Oh, alright. Don't destroy anything. Or set the oven on fire."

"I won't."

"It's simple. Just put them in the oven. Nothing fancy."

"I can do at least that, sweetheart. Don't worry."

Dietrich didn't show after the cinnamon rolls began baking and the smell had filled the house. Troy went to the stairs to listen, and heard nothing. He then headed upstairs, and knocked on the bedroom door. "Dietrich? You in there?"

When he got no response, Troy opened the door. Dietrich was still in bed, facing away from Troy. He was awake, but staring at the wall.

"Dietrich?" Troy gave him a concerned look. "You okay, buddy?"

Dietrich didn't answer for several minutes. He then sighed heavily. "I have no interest in getting out of bed."

"Any particular reason why?"

"No." Dietrich kept his gaze on the wall.

"Do you need help?"

Dietrich went quiet. He turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. His expression was more melancholic than usual. Each movement seemed slow and without purpose.

Troy's expression went from one of concern to one of sympathy. This wasn't his first time witnessing Dietrich's depression, and he doubted it would be his last. He had suspected something was wrong even during the war, and occasionally still felt guilty over not trying harder to help. Countless times, Troy felt the temptation to ask Dietrich how he really felt, and whether or not he wanted to defect. He refused, as he knew Dietrich was dedicated to his men and wouldn't betray them. At least he was able to help Dietrich now.

Troy closed the door, and tried to think of what to do. He knew the last thing he wanted to do was put too much pressure on Dietrich to do anything, as that typically resulted in Dietrich shutting down and becoming harder to talk to for a time. Troy sat on the bed, observing Dietrich's somewhat absent expression before reaching to take the skinny German's right hand. When Dietrich didn't object, Troy took his hand, gently squeezing it. He briefly looked at the jagged scar on the inside of Dietrich's wrist. "The demons in your head getting too loud?"

Dietrich didn't respond for over a minute, then nodded.

"Well, they're not in charge." Troy tried not looking at the scar again, but it was difficult not to in moments like this. "We know what happened the last time you listened to them. That wasn't good."

"No."

"Still, you know that if the time ever came again that you decided your life wasn't worth living anymore, I'd be there to tell you it is worth living, and keep you from ending it. No matter what. You said that you don't believe in coincidences, right? I don't think it's a coincidence that you and I have the same exact blood type." Troy paused, giving Dietrich a chance to respond. When he didn't, Troy continued. "Whatever you need, I'll do it for you."

Dietrich finally made eye contact with him. "I know. This is definitely one of those times… I am glad for your stubbornness." His tone remained sad and somewhat monotonous.

Troy said nothing more, choosing to just sit with Dietrich. He turned when the door opened, and saw Shauna looking in.

"Sam? Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Dietrich's having a bit of a hard time," Troy replied.

"Do you need anything?"

"Not right now. Did you turn the horses out?"

"I can if you want me to."

"Please do. Thanks. I'm not sure when I'll be out. It all depends on him."

"Take your time, then." Shauna left the room.

Troy resumed looking at Dietrich. A few minutes passed before Dietrich let go of Troy's hand, and slowly sat up. "Could I get dressed, please?" Dietrich asked.

There was a part of Troy that didn't want to trust Dietrich alone, but recalled that his frequent pushing and fear of Dietrich making an attempt to hurt himself again had caused problems in the past. That, and his fear wasn't nearly as strong as it once was. He nodded, and left the room to give Dietrich privacy.

Troy went downstairs to have his coffee and breakfast, having neglected both in favor of helping Dietrich. He left an extra mug and plate out for Dietrich, but filled neither, giving him the choice of whether or not he wanted anything.

Dietrich entered the kitchen not long after Troy sat down. The window in front of the sink was open, letting a gentle breeze through the house. Dietrich paused by the sink, taking a moment to feel the breeze, then poured himself a cup of coffee. He stared at the tray of cinnamon rolls for a while, and eventually took two of the biggest that were drenched in a vanilla glaze.

"Feeling any better?" Troy asked.

"I suppose a little," Dietrich replied. "I would like to be distracted."

"Well, that'll be easy when you're with me."

Troy half-expected Dietrich to say something sarcastic, but the skinny German was quiet. He managed to finish one cinnamon roll, then covered the other and put it in the refrigerator. He rinsed his hands before saying, "On second thought, I would like to be alone."

Troy opened his mouth to argue, but quickly stopped. Just let him go. It was becoming obvious that Dietrich was trying to fight this on his own, and Troy wasn't sure if that was a good idea. He watched Dietrich leave the house, and remained at the table, finishing his breakfast despite not having much of an appetite. He figured it was a worthwhile distraction while giving Dietrich some time alone.

After washing his plate and utensils, Troy put his boots and hat on to go out and start work for the day. He opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch to see Dietrich sitting on the bench, staring ahead at the long walkway leading to the empty road running by Troy's property. Troy wasn't sure what to do, and gave a quiet sigh before saying, "Do you want company, buddy?"

Dietrich shrugged, saying nothing.

Troy touched Dietrich's shoulder. He badly wished he had a better idea of what was going on in Dietrich's head, so he knew he was making the right decision on how to handle him. "I'm going to inspect the fence. Come find me if you need anything." He went to let go, then felt Dietrich take his hand.

"Please stay," Dietrich said quietly.

Troy squeezed Dietrich's hand back, and sat next to him on the bench. "If that's what you want. I don't want to be pushy."

Dietrich looked down at his lap. "I just want someone listening."

"Okay. You know, it's funny, when you're not dealing with your depression like this, you usually tell me that you're surprised how good of a listener I am."

The ghost of a smile tugged at the edges of Dietrich's mouth. "It is still a surprise, sometimes."

Troy put his arm around Dietrich. "See? You're still in there. Everything's going to be okay. It might not be okay right now, but it will be soon. I'm not going anywhere."