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The gravel road made the car bounce and buckle as the base disappeared over the hill in the rearview window. Naib’s hands were tight around the wheel, and he forced himself to look forward. Look at the road flanked by pine trees, worry about a possible attack, not the man in the passenger seat. Looking over would only make his nausea worse.
It hadn’t even been three weeks since Kurt’s injury. The poor guy had only just regained consciousness when whispers started moving around the base about his discharge. They said it was a miracle he of all people survived. Some soldiers from their unit had come to him to talk about it. They pitied him, sure, but weren't exactly kind about it.
“But come on,” One had said, “In his first real fight? There’s no room for guys like that here.”
Naib wanted to see how they’d do against an enemy’s combat knife. He bet that they'd end up in the same shape as his partner did. They were lucky to be sending off a still-standing man rather than another wooden box. He'd be in a much worse state than he already was. He didn't want to think about it.
It was a damn shame nobody else could--rather, wanted to--take a day to take Kurt to the train station. At least he could've had their goodbyes over and done with.
He couldn’t help it anymore. He glanced at the passenger seat.
Kurt was leaning his elbow on the window, watching the trees go by. He was paler than usual. Without the bandages, Naib could see the fresh, jagged scar that ran from his cheek, through his right eye, to his forehead. Dark purple bags sat below both eyes. Stubble was growing on his chin.
He forced his gaze back to the road. His stomach churned.
He felt eyes on him, and said nothing.
The trees were starting to clear out--they must’ve been getting close to the station.
“I think,” He was quiet and phlegmy, he cleared his throat. “I think we’re almost there.”
“Right.” Kurt mumbled.
The beginning of a conversation dropped dead on its feet. What even could they talk about? How this wasn’t how either of them imagined their parting? Naib, at least, was sure this wasn’t how he imagined it. He’d thought one of them, or both, would meet their end with gunfire or the echo of bombs. He’d entertained the thought, once, that they would both live, and they could have time together outside of the military. Part of him wanted it more than anything. The rest of him knew it was impossible.
The gravel road gave way to a paved one, and they were only a few minutes away. The trees thinned out, with only a few standing by the entrance to the station.
“Will they let you in?” Kurt asked, bringing Naib’s focus back to him.
“What do you mean?” He asked in return. Kurt was holding his hands in his lap.
“You don’t have a ticket, will they let you into the station?”
“I’m sure they will. Tickets are collected once you’re the train.”
“Ah, right. Right.” He looked down. “Sorry, just nervous.”
“You’re alright.” Naib tried to be reassuring. He didn’t think he was any good at it.
They were both let into the station just fine. Naib carried the meager luggage Kurt had, having grabbed it out of the trunk before he could say anything. It wasn’t a big action, but Kurt had relaxed his posture a little bit.
The train wouldn’t arrive for about ten more minutes, yet they already stood by the tracks. The need to reach for something to talk about crept up on Naib again. He couldn’t stall forever, and reality was crashing down on him--they would never see each other again. Just what the hell could he say? "Sorry about the discharge?" "Good luck with the rest of your life?" "Don't forget about me?"
He didn’t have to say anything, since Kurt spoke first. He always did.
“It’s stupid,” He said, quietly, “But I don’t want to leave.”
“You don’t?” Naib looked at him, eyebrows raised.
“No. My life here’s been alright.”
“How?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What about almost dying?”
“You think I don’t know?”
“No--I just--” He sighed. "I'm sorry."
Kurt was quiet for a moment. “You’re alright.”
“..You want to tell me why? Why you don’t want to leave.”
“Did I ever tell you about what my life was like before this?”
“You’ve told me your stories.”
“No, not those. There’s a bit more.” He swallowed. “I didn’t think I’d have to see my Father again, for one.”
He grimaced. “Christ. I take it you don't want to?”
“Hah, that’s an understatement. Did you know he sent me here?”
“You didn’t enlist?”
“Nope. I had to drop out of school, and he and my Mother didn’t know what to do with me, so off I went. They weren't great. They aren't.”
“...Huh.”
“You don't have to say anything. I'd rather you didn't, actually." He laughed bitterly. "Besides, it's not just them that compels me to stay.”
He already knew another reason. How could he not?
He stopped biting his tongue. “This wasn’t how I thought it would go.”
Kurt shook his head. “Me neither.”
The train’s wheels echoed from down the tracks. Had it already been that long? Naib broke eye contact, looking up. The sky above was grey and clouded. He crossed his arms, a chill threatening to overtake him.
He murmured, “I don’t want you to leave either. It’s selfish.”
“It’s not. I don’t think it is.”
“Of course you don’t.” He smiled, despite the melancholy.
The train was starting to hurt his ears, its horn announcing its presence more than the noise of its wheels already had. If they weren’t at a train station, if they were still in their spot in barracks, this would be when Naib would throw an arm around his shoulder and pull him close. He wouldn’t let go until he had to, he’d kiss him until he ran out of breath.
But he couldn’t, so he didn’t.
The train pulled to a stop in front of them. People got off, and the few people scattered around the station began to move about. They were collecting their things, talking with loved ones, checking to make sure they had their tickets. Naib looked at the luggage in his hand.
He held it out to Kurt. “You’ll probably want this.”
Kurt gave a small smile, and it wasn’t happy, but that was fine. He took his bag, their hands brushing in the exchange.
“You could come with me.” He said, desperate.
“I can’t just desert,” Naib frowned. “You know I can't. And, I don’t have a ticket.”
“I know. But, it’s nice to imagine.”
“..It is.”
People were boarding, and it wouldn’t be very long until the train took off. Kurt looked from his partner to the train, then back at him. Quickly and tightly as he could, he hugged Naib. Naib couldn’t hug him back, his arms were pinned to his sides, but he tried his best to rest a hand on his back.
“I’ll see you again.” Kurt whispered to him, his voice cracked
He couldn’t say anything. There were tears behind his eyes, and opening his mouth would make them fall out. He nodded, but didn’t believe him. It was naïve. It was everything he wanted.
He was let go. Kurt made his way to the train’s entrance and handed his ticket to the man collecting them.
He didn’t look back.
Naib was glad he didn’t.