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It’s all Grace’s fault, really.
Lew can say that without a doubt and he will be forever grateful to her for the rest of his life. It’s the reason why Dick Winters is standing in his living room, the holiday lights twinkling in the faded gray of his hair, with a glass of sparkling cider in his hand. Even after all these years he still hasn’t managed to convince Dick to have a drink on the regular. Only emergencies and dire circumstances.
He swirls the contents of his own glass of cider before he strolls forward and drapes an arm over Dick’s shoulder, giving a slight shake. “What’’s going on in that head of yours?”
Dick pulls his gaze from the window to look at him then relaxes into the embrace. “Nothing. Just thinking about how there should be snow on the ground instead of all this sunshine.”
Lew laughs as he glances outside himself. The warm burgundy curtains are drawn but the fading rays of sunlight can still be seen outside. They have the fireplace crackling beside them for the flavor. The warm smell of hickory and pine permeates the air. Grace had insisted that if they were going to drag Dick out of his east coast hideaway then they should make an effort to at least make him a little less homesick.
They even had a real pine tree situated next to the fireplace, which was taking pride of place and also entirely too much room. But Lew had to concede that the constantly refreshing smell of pine had been worth the hassle of dragging it into the house and sweeping up all the pine needles that had shaken off in bringing it to the living room.
“C’mon, don’t think about it like that. Think about not having that ache in your bones and not being reminded of places you don’t want to be.” He squeezes Dick’s shoulder and guides him away from the window. Bastogne is never too far from their memories even though they all pretend it’s something they buried a long time ago.
Dick rumbles something indistinct but lets Lew guide him to the couch where they settle much like they would have years and decades ago. Dick, contained in a corner, while Lew sprawls out and expands to fill the rest of the space. And in the privacy of his own home, Lew is so bold as to throw his feet into Dick’s lap. It earns him a narrow eyed glance but Lew only grins back at him. They have Grace’s full blessing and Dick is well aware of it.
That woman had been the godsend Lew hadn’t thought he deserved. They’d met years and thousands of miles away from Nixon, New Jersey and all the shrapnel that had been Lew in human form. She’d been the balm to his soul, filling in and patching the holes until he could pull himself out the rest of the way and be the better person he had always struggled to be.
It’s Dick’s hand hooking, warm and careful, his thumb smoothing along the ridge of his ankle that makes him relax further, taking a sip from his glass as he gazes warmly on a man he had thought lost to him forever.
It had started with Grace poking at the letters buried in his footlocker under the old uniforms and scratchy blankets from the war. There had been a souvenir or two left over from that raid of the wine cellar along with some Vat69. Those had been placed for safekeeping in a location Lew didn’t ask about. Grace would break them out at the appropriate time. Her judgment was impeccable.
She’d peeled from him the happy and horrible memories and when all was said and done and he’d recovered enough from the moments of devastating sadness and loss, her first question was what had happened to the men in his life he’d trusted so much of himself to. She hadn’t taken his blank stare and shrug with pleasure.
She’d dug up Harry Welsh first. Happily married with a passel of children and grandchildren. Lew and Harry had spent too many hours on the phone catching up on the years like there hadn’t been any distance between them. Then the rest she’d compiled folder after folder on for Lew to read and reach out if he saw fit, saving until last the one Lew desperately wanted to know about but couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Richard Winters had gone back to Pennsylvania, settled himself into a quiet life with a family, and a farm just like he’d told Lew all those years ago. He hadn’t wanted for much, even if he’d followed Lew back to Nixon, New Jersey. Look what that had gotten him.
Lew had hesitated and hesitated. He’d wanted it too much and while he wasn’t the same man that Dick had left all those years ago neither was Dick. What did they even mean to each other now all these years later? All Lew knew was what was between them hadn't changed on his end, at least, but he doubted that would be enough.
It was Grace that had extended the first gesture because, of course, it would be her. She had sent the letter without his knowledge. His first inkling had been the shock of the familiarity of Dick’s handwriting staring up at him from the stack of letters he’d gathered from the mailbox. It wasn’t even his name scrawled in the elegantly clean penmanship on the front. It was Grace’s.
He’d wandered back inside in a daze then blankly held up the letter when Grace had asked him what was wrong. She’d wrapped him in a hug and held on tight as he shook. Much latter she would murmur to him “I’ve invited him for a visit. He misses you too.”
That had been several years ago. The first visits had been delicate as Grace would put it. The both of them wary and feral as cats, leaving new wounds and reopening old ones. Lew on home ground, Dick uncertain and unsteady, and the both of them torn between their minds and their hearts. That is until Grace gave them both an ultimatum to sort themselves out. She’d even left the house to them.
Lew startles out of his memories when warm fingers tickle under the edge of his sock. He smirks down the length of the couch and nudges his feet further into Dick’s lap. “What? Am I not paying enough attention to you?”
“Hardly,” Dick says with that dryness that hasn’t gotten any duller over the years. He places a neatly gift wrapped box in Lew’s lap. “I just wanted you to open this first, while we had a moment.”
Lew arches an eyebrow. He’s also not sure where Dick had even pulled the present from. Grace had insisted they all be placed under the tree and were to be opened after they had dinner here in a few hours. He sits up fully, having to swing his feet to the ground, so he can properly handle the box. He glances at Dick then slips the ribbon off the top of the box. It opens easily after that, the lid pulling off, where nestled inside on a navy blue fabric is a watch. It catches and gleams in the light. Even more so when Lew pulls it from its case. It’s elegant and sleek. The band is smooth, supple leather and as he runs his fingers over the back of it, he feels them catch on what should be unblemished metal. He turns it over to see the engraving. The words there make his breath catch.
Lew,
For all the time before us.
-Dick
Lew pulls Dick into a hard kiss. He knows the promise in the words.
“And we’ll make the most of all of it,” Lew whispers against Dick’s lips. He pulls back to slide the watch onto his wrist with gentle reverence, giving his wrist a shake to get it to fully settle.
They both gaze at the gleam of the reflected firelight in the warm amber of the watch face.
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”