if this was meant for me, why does it hurt so much?
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andy’s always writing letters. how he describes eddie depends on who he’s sending them to.
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“Edward...no one would find fault in ya if ya were forced to fight. No one, not me, not the kids, not even God.” Reba bridged the distance between them with a carefully outstretched hand, wrapping warm fingers around her son’s thin wrist. Edward blinked back tears, dropping his gaze to the scuffed edge of the table.
“I might not be found at fault, but I would despise myself. I’m not scared of dyin’, Ma, but I ain’t dyin’ for something that I don’t believe in.”
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The dog days of the Peleliu campaign on repeat. Groundhog Day Au.
Andy watched it happen; saw the bullet pierce Eddie’s abdomen, his long arms flailing as he fell back against the stretcher, limp, blood soaking his already stained uniform. Andy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only stare at Eddie’s unmoving form, praying to a God he surely did not believe in that Eddie was not dead and once he was down here, with Andy, they’d be able to save him.
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Andrew Allison Moore was born on January 9th, 1940. He was named after his uncle, Andrew Allison Haldane. When Andy graduated from Bowdoin College in 1941, his sister, Janet, took a train to Maine with the rest of his family to celebrate his achievement. Swaddled in Janet’s arms was the eighteen month old Andrew Moore, with wide, brown eyes filled with curiosity. Andy was instantly enamored with his nephew, picking him up as though he were made of glass. Andrew reached for Andy’s nose with his teeny hand, his fore and middle finger squeezing the tip of the appendage with all of the force a small child could enact with their light grip.
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- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,686
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 104
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2025 hbo war secret santa for hebior-af.
Ten years. It had been ten years since the war had ended, eleven since Bill had bled out onto the sands of Peleliu while Leckie stared down at him uncomprehendingly, warm palms pressed to his thigh as what felt like all the blood leeched from his body. The look on Leckie’s face haunted Bill’s nightmares like a particularly reticent ghost, those deep blue eyes pleading with him to stay, to survive. And Bill had, hadn’t he? Survived. How could he not, when Bob appeared as though he were mentally praying to a God he didn’t believe in just for him?
your tears will be trembling, now we're somewhere else. one last cup of wine we will pour, and I'll kiss you one more time.
Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,577
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 1
- Hits:
- 27