Chapter Text
If you asked David Stirling what his first memory was, he would tell you it began with laughter. If you asked David what his favourite memory was, he would tell you it began with the same laughter but older this time.
But that laugh was in all of his best memories. Memories that felt so far away when he was stuck out in this oven made of sand. Being made to stand down again and again. Maybe it was the memories of this laugh that were the only thing keeping him sane.
With that thought, Stirling reached into his chest pocket, pulling out the piece of paper that was safely tucked in there. Kept safe from the rain and the sand.
Unfolding it, he gently pulled out the photo that lay inside. His eyes traced it reverently. Taking in all the details as he tried to burn it into his memory.
Taking a sip of his whisky, his attention then turned to the letter in his hands. For a moment, he just held it. Before finally, he started to read.
He had received it just before they failed. Had been thinking about it, and its sender as the miles had ticked down to Tubruc, as the fuel gauge had steadily ticked towards empty.
He had been even more obsessively thinking about it on the way back so as not to lose his mind. So as not to lose what little sanity he had left. Because he knew he needed to keep sane so he could return home and hear that familiar laugh again.
But by god, that time could not come soon enough for Lieutenant David Stirling.
When David Sterling slept, he didn't always dream, but when he did, there were two types of dreams.
One was the kind that left him waking in a cold sweat. The other had him waking with a smile on his face and a wish to return to sleep. When he was drunk, it only made the dreams more vivid as they gripped him in.
Tonight, he had been blessed with the sort of dream that left him smiling.
Tonight, Sterling had dreamt of running through open fields. He could hear her laughter as they ran together. The grass brushing up against him as he turned over his shoulder to see her.
Her smile was radiant as she grinned at him. Her laugh echoing as she chased after him.
The scene had him waking with a smile on his face. That is before his hangover hit him and he went reeling out of bed.
God Sterling could not wait for this war to be over.
As Sterling spiraled towards the ground, there was only two things he could think one, that his father was right, he wouldn't amount anything, and two, that he would never get to hear that laugh again.
After his father's taunting and his screaming, he let his head drop down. Thumping against the sand as he stared up at the sky above him, it came to him. Her soft laugh.
Craning his neck, David looked to the side. Watching as she came up to him and knelt beside him.
"Oh, David." She murmured, dropping down to her knees beside him. "What have you done to yourself this time?"
"I jumped out of a plane," David murmurs, stretching round to look at her. She's wearing his favourite dress of hers.
"Now, why would you do that?" she questions, her voice teasing.
"Because I needed to prove it was possible." He tells her. His voice strained with pain.
She lets out another laugh, its warmth hitting him like a drug.
"You always did like doing the damnest things didn't you?" She laughs again.
"For you, always for you." He murmurs, but she is gone. Leaving him
alone in the desert again.