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'The clocks slid back an hour and stole light from my life...'
Mean Time, Carol Ann Duffy
~
If he can just get through this crowd and see Nix alive, Dick knows he’ll be able to breathe again. Whole lungfuls of air, not the desperate, shallow gulps he takes now.
He’s felt this way more times than he can count since D Day. He keeps the fear inside where it presses hard against his chest, tightens his lungs so that when he needs oxygen the most, it hurts to draw too deep. Only Nix is able to help ease him back to himself, calm him until he can relax and breathe again.
It’s hardest after battle, when he thinks of the names and faces of lost men. Nix isn’t dead, but he’s hurt and Dick doesn’t know how much.
He can’t get the images out of his mind. In the split second between hearing Nix fall and spinning around, his brain found time to create picture after picture of what he might see. Each picture is horrific and fragmented: a bullet connecting with Nix’s skull, ground saturated with blood, life draining out and seeping away, and Dick helpless to stop it.
When he does find a path through the doctors, the nurses and injured men, he sees Eugene Roe. He’s looking at Dick as though he’s been waiting for him. As if, in Roe’s mysterious way, he’s sensed Dick pacing his office when he wanted to be sat by Nix’s side, fingertips typing when they wanted to be feeling for a pulse. He’d gotten away and to the field hospital as quickly as he could.
As he comes face to face with Roe, he notices that Harry’s already there.
“He’s ok,” Roe says quickly. The iron fist squeezing Dick’s heart relaxes. Beside him, Harry looks over with relief plain on his face.
“Where is he?” Dick asks.
He’s already scanning the area, as though he could find Nix himself. Even in this organised chaos of beds and people, he probably could. And in not much time at all. Dick and Nix always seem to find each other; drawn together and colliding like comets that were never meant to share the same orbit.
“He’s just back there,” Roe says before shifting slightly like he’s contemplating blocking his superior’s path. There's something in Roe’s eyes that’s pleading with Dick to stop.
“Sir, you should know... he’s not himself right now.”
"Okay, well that should make things easier,” Harry chirps in an attempt to warm the chill of anxiety in the air. “Is he hopped up on something?”
Dick can’t share the joke and the smile slides from Harry’s face. It’s not Harry’s fault, it’s just that Dick can tell that Roe is preparing them for bad news.
His lilting voice is gentle as he says, “He’s lost time, sir.”
Roe’s eyes are dark... very dark. As black as Nix’s, staring up from Nuenen ground as he panted, “I’m alright... am I alright?” before passing out.
Dick looks at Roe in confusion. His grip on his nerves and patience is failing. “Lost time,” he repeats slowly.
Roe inhales sharply, his gaze direct. “He’s concussed. He doesn’t remember...” Roe’s voice drifts into silence and he swallows hard. Waiting is agony, but Roe’s in no rush to continue.
When he does, the words feel like a blow to the stomach.
“He probably won’t remember you, sir.”
As sick as he feels, all Dick can focus on is that Nix will live, and that’s all that matters.
“It’s scaring the hell out of him,’ Roe is saying. Then his steady eyes waver. “And he can’t see.”
~
Roe says it’s just temporary, but it’s hard to focus on that as he watches Nix, listless on the bed, eyes wide and unseeing. Dick has been standing by the door until he can trust his voice to be calm.
He’s glad he told Harry to wait. He needs to do this alone. He’s worried that his face will betray the depth of his feelings, and that’s a complication they could all do without.
Nix is lying in white sheets that remind Dick of parachutes. If Nix was bleeding, Dick would know by the sheets. He’s seen murdered men tangled in their own parachutes, blood bright against the white silk. To Dick’s immense relief he doesn’t see any red; just white... and black ruffled hair, a stark contrast against the pillow.
“Hey Lew." He speaks so quietly so as not to startle his friend, that he’s not even sure if Nix will hear. But as he moves closer, Nix’s head turns towards him.
“Who’s there?”
Dick doesn’t think he’s ever seen Nix look this vulnerable. He’s pale, eyes searching uselessly. They come to rest somewhere near Dick’s face.
“It’s Dick,” he says softly sitting down in the chair near Nix’s head. Nix still looks confused and the lack of recognition feels worse that he thought possible. He swallows hard. “Richard Winters.”
Nix sighs and turns his face to the ceiling. He closes his eyes.
“I guess I know you, right?” Dick goes to speak but Nix carries on, his voice strained with emotion. “Everyone seems to know me. That doc that brought me here says he knows me.” There’s no humor in the huff of laughter that passes Nix’s lips. “I don’t know anyone.”
“I’m your friend."
Dick puts his hand on Nix’s arm and hopes some of Nix’s pain will transfer to him in the warmth of skin on skin. He’s surprised when Nix doesn’t flinch.
“We’ll work this out.”
~
Nix fell asleep quickly, and it was a relief to see him peaceful. After about twenty minutes of watching, waiting, he’s been pulled away to a briefing.
Now he has to focus on his other job. There’s looking out for best friend, and then there’s running a battalion. His duty takes him one way and his heart pulls him the other.
Later that evening, Sink suggests Nix might need some company. It’s not possible that Dick looks anywhere near as happy as he feels, but Sink still shakes his head and says, “Son, that’s the first smile I’ve seen on your face all day.”
~
Dick runs his eyes twice over Nix’s sleeping form. The first time is for Nix: a visual health check. The second time... well, the second time is for Dick. The crack of sunlight in this dreadful turn of events is that he can look at Nix all he wants, and Nix will never know.
“Nix? Are you awake?”
“Winters?”
He’s momentarily shocked that Nix has used his surname, but his heart leaps in hope. “You can see?”
He can’t help the disappointment when Nix shakes his head.
“No, I just knew it was you,” Nix says slowly, like he’s trying to work something out. “How long have we been friends?”
Dick sits and smiles. “Two years, give or take a few months.”
Nix hums thoughtfully. He’s still incredibly pale and he’s rubbing his eyes like he’s trying desperately to make himself see. “Doc says I’m ‘lost’. I’ve got to find my way back.” He smiles a little and although he looks slightly insulted at being told he’s lost, it’s not the angry grimace of earlier.
“And lucky you, I’m your map.”
Dick intended the comment as a joke, a weak one he’ll admit, but Nix’s expression is serious.
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
Something in Nix’s tone warms Dick and he has to clear his throat before he speaks again. “You’re good with maps.”
Nix raises an eyebrow and a slow half smile forms on his lips. Dick can feel his face heating up and tears his eyes away from the teasing smirk.
“Do you remember anything at all?”
“Well, I remember my childhood. The longer that’s left in the dark the better. Then I was a bratty teenager.”
Nix could be covering, embarrassed that his mind can’t recall even the most deeply engrained of memories, but Dick knows he’s not. It’s sometimes hard to tell what the man is thinking. His words suggest one thing and his tone implies another. Dick has always thought that Nix does it deliberately as a way of testing people, like he’s saying, “If you can understand me, then this means something”. Dick has seen people fail. It doesn’t seem to matter too much because Nix can get on with almost anyone, but that person will never get Nix’s trust.
“Is that where the memories stop?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Nix folds his hands behind his head but he keeps his head tilted in Dick’s general direction. “I don’t remember much in the way of love. I mean, family, friends. The memories I do have are lonely and...” He trails off biting his bottom lip. “If the rest of my life till now has been like that, I think l’m better off forgetting.”
Dick closes his eyes because this is heart breaking. “Lew, please-”
“Am I married?”
“Yes, you have a wife called Kathy”
“Do I love her?” Nix sounds like he fears the answer.
“I’m not sure.”
“Please be honest with me. Please just be the one person in the goddamn place that’s honest.”
Dick picks his words carefully. “I don’t think you like her very much.”
Nix groans.
“You are happy Nix”
“Tell me.”
For the next two hours Dick relays every memory while the cogs of Nix’s Yale sized brain work to file the information, piece by piece.
Every spare moment, Dick thinks, I’ll try and win your friendship all over again.
He doesn’t get through many of his stories before they both start to tire. It would seem that a lot of his stories involve Nix.
~
When Dick makes it to the hospital again and starts regaling Nix with the next memory, Nix obviously starts to think the same thing.
“Another one? Do you ever do anything on your own?” he snarks.
“No Nix, you’re like a bad penny.”
Nix laughs, a bright sound that Dick misses when it stops short. “You are joking right? It’s hard to tell without eyes.”
“Yes, I’m joking.”
Nix sighs deeply.
Finishing his first round of checks, Dick is relieved to see that some of the colour has returned to Nix’s face since his last visit. He looks more comfortable with himself, and Dick wonders if he’s slowly adjusting.
“Well, none of your memories of me involve my father’s money. I’m finding it hard to work out why you stuck around.”
Nix stops short of accusing Dick of being economical with the truth, but it hurts anyway. He has to remind himself that Nix knows hardly anything about him, they’re starting at the beginning again. And worse, Nix is trying to make sense of a history he can’t remember.
“Your money isn’t important to me.”
Dick doesn’t think to stop himself when he reaches out for Nix’s hand. He goes to pull back after a few seconds of contact but Nix grabs for his hand on its retreat. It’s more luck than judgement that he manages to catch it.
Nix sits in silence for a long time. When he eventually speaks it sounds as though he’s surprised by his own words. “I believe you,” he says.
~
“Will his memories come back?”
He’s cornered Roe for an update when he next sees him, but the medic looks very keen to escape.
“I don’t know sir. We think so. The last I heard, they were trying to find him a specialist doctor.”
Dick tenses. “Why?”
“There’s no evidence that he hit his head that hard when he went down. The block could be a result of the emotional trauma.”
Dick spends most of the next day weighing up whether Roe’s words should reassure him or concern him even more.
~
On his next visit, Nix wants to hear about Dick’s childhood. Before long, he’s come around to his last school dance.
“Did you get drunk?”
“No, I don’t drink.”
And just like the first time they had a conversation like this, Nix raises an eyebrow but says nothing. The familiarity of the situation makes Dick smile.
Dick imagines that the incredulous words, “What...not at all?” are ready on the tip of his tongue, but they aren’t spoken. They’ve never been spoken. Nix has never pressed him, never made him feel ashamed of all of their differences.
“I think I drink,” Nix says with refreshing certainty.
“Yeah Nix,” Dick says through a laugh, “you drink.”
The differences between them are obvious and numerous. Part of him doesn’t understand why this has never been a problem. He’s just relieved that, like the first time they became friends, those differences are drawing them together. Like magnetic poles.
Maybe this time Dick can change things. He knows his own mind better. Maybe this is his chance to tell Nix how hopelessly he loves him. Maybe this time, Nix will fall just as hard.
~
Nix looks so young when he sleeps. And ironically, full of life. His skin has a flush of color and his breathing is soft but sure.
Dick’s walking closer, concentrating on the rhythmical rise and fall of Nix’s chest, when a low laugh startles him.
“I hope your current job doesn’t involve stealth,” Nix says from the bed.
Dick rolls his eyes, even though the gesture is lost on him. He knows Nix heard his laugh though, because he smiles, open and mischievous.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I’m blind not deaf! You step as loud as an elephant.”
“I’m tired!” Dick says, sounding uncharacteristically defensive, and really just to make Nix smile again.
“If it makes you feel better, I have amazing hearing since this all happened. I may be super human. I could be an incredible asset to the military.”
Dick snorts. His heart trips to hear Nix joke and it makes him want to keep talking. “You are an asset to the military, super hearing or not. And I’ll have you know that I can be very stealthy when I need to be.”
Nix looks thoroughly unreassured. “Hmm. I bet I used to worry sick about you.”
The comment surprises Dick, who has never imagined Nix worrying sick about anybody.
“I don’t know. Did you?”
It’s a gentle prompt and it’s built on the foundations of wishful thinking, but eventually Nix will be able to answer. He has to think that way, because as much as he likes re-acquainting himself with Nix, it’s not the same as actually sharing memories.
Nix sighs and closes his eyes, resting both hands on the hard plane of his stomach.
“I don’t remember.” He pulls himself up to sitting, feeling his way with his hands. “But I bet I did.”
Dick’s just thinking about the paperwork that’s waiting for him, and how he should make a move when Nix asks him to stay.
“It’s dark,” Nix explains with an almost imperceptible shrug.
“Its 11am Lew.”
Nix frowns and Dick’s already settling back into his seat when Nix says, “It’s always dark.”
~
When Dick can’t see Nix in his usual bed at the hospital, he imagines that he’s been transferred without Dick knowing. Or that he’s taken a turn for the worse.
When he manages to catch a harassed nurse, he’s told that Nix has been moved to an area on his own because his nightmares were disturbing the other patients. The nurse takes pity on him and escorts him through the hospital. While she walks, she talks in a high, shrill voice that does nothing to calm Dick’s nerves.
~
“I have to go Nix, it’s late and they’re going to throw me out any minute.”
“No!” Nix blurts out, reaching for him. “I have these dreams...”
Even without Nix’s usually expressive eyes talking for him, Dick can sense that Nix just can’t find the words he needs.
“Okay. Alright.” He looks around for somewhere to hide if the nurse makes another round of checks. “But if one of the nurses sees me-
“Then she’s lucky,” Nix interrupts with a huff of self pity.
“... then I’ll get thrown out.”
“There’s no one else here. Why shouldn’t you stay?”
“I don’t know Nix, there are rules...”
Nix groans in frustration. “Just shut up and sleep." He's shuffling over on the bed and Dick is concerned that he’ll misjudge it and roll off the other side, but he bites his tongue; Nix’s pride is bruised enough without Dick handling him with kid gloves.
As it happens, Nix manages the manoeuvre easily. “You can lie down,” he says, thumping the space next to him on the mattress. “We’ve shared a bed before, right?”
Dick isn’t exactly sure what Nix is asking. They have and they haven’t, depending on which way you look at it. In a way, Dick wants Nix to think that they’re lovers. If he does, maybe he’ll ask Dick to hold him. He shakes his head at the thought; he couldn’t let Nix believe a lie.
Nix can’t even see him, but he has to look away as he blushes. With a deep breath, he moves onto the bed and carefully settles himself as close to the edge as possible, leaving space between then. He can fool himself that he does this out of courtesy, but Dick knows its self preservation. Close physical contact with Nix used to be a lot easier, but with a steady-slow tumble, it’s become the sweetest form of torture.
The bed dips under him. Nix’s hand, which has been reaching across the space between them, connects with Dick’s arm and the next thing he knows, he has the warm, solid body of his best friend pressed against his side.
It’s too soon for Nix to have fallen asleep. Dick knows from months of shared quarters how Nix falls asleep. The way he starts on his back, turns to his side after a few minutes, and then inevitably ends up sprawled on his stomach. Dick isn’t proud of himself, but he always listens to the soft click of teeth as Nix subconsciously clacks them together before he lets himself fall asleep.
Which means that Nix is pulling himself flush against Dick’s side entirely on purpose.
Dick sucks in a breath and it’s noisy and he thoroughly regrets it. The moment seems too delicate for noise. He’s worried it will break the spell and Nix will think again and turn away.
His mind is racing, and so’s his heart. He hopes Nix doesn’t notice, where his arm has been casually draped over Dick’s chest. Less than half a minute later, and Nix’s hand shifts slightly, almost a caress. Dick holds his breath as the hand trails its way up Dick’s chest, skimming a shoulder, to slide along his jaw.
Dick shivers and bites his lip when a shot of arousal jolts through him. He wants to moan, but instead he forces out an urgent, whispered, “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to see you,” Nix whispers back, moving slightly over Dick to better trace the lines of his cheekbones. He’s making it sound as though all of this is unremarkable, but in this new position, Dick can feel that Nix’s heart is hammering just as hard as his.
Nix continues his exploration, but every touch is too soft, too reverent, and feels anything but scientific. There’s a fingertip tracing an eyebrow, a gentle thumb soothing out Dick’s frown, the backs of four fingers brushing one, then both cheekbones. There are goose bumps on his skin and warmth pooling in his belly. Nix takes his time, and Dick doesn’t want him to stop.
When Nix turns his attention to Dick’s lips, he’s breathing quick and Nix must feel it ghosting his fingers, must know the reason why. A finger passes over the flesh of his bottom lip, left to right, seemingly mesmerised. The finger retraces its steps and Dick knows that if Nix moves even slightly, he’ll feel how hard Dick is for him.
On the third journey of Nix’s fingers, Dick’s body severs its connection with his brain. Time slows, his lips part against Nix’s fingers in an almost-kiss and the thrill of it thrums under his skin and makes his hands tremble.
There’s a long moment where he could stop himself, pull back and swallow down the words that threaten to tumble from his mouth, and simply leave. But the touch of Nix’s skin to the sensitive flesh of his lips is breathtaking. So he places an open mouthed kiss to Nix’s fingertips.
And now it’s just a slippery slope because his body’s got a taste for the lust shooting through his veins. Before he knows what he’s doing, his hand has snapped around Nix’s wrist, and he’s kissing his fingers again.
Nix inhales sharply and it should bring Dick back to his senses, but instead he’s pushing the length of his body up against him.
When he breathes out, hot against Nix’s fingers, a quiet moan escapes his own mouth. The second he hears it, he freezes. The sudden reality of what he’s doing frightens him. They’re so close and he can feel the stillness of Nix’s body against his.
Stupid, so stupid. The seconds are dragging as he waits in breathless agony; not wanting to breathe in the air which is flooded with unbearable tension. He doesn’t need any more time to calculate the chances of Nix mistaking this for an accident. He starts to back off with panicked speed, then realises that Nix’s hold on him is tighter than he expected, keeping him on the bed.
“I shouldn’t have... it wasn’t right.” The fact that he still has the ability to speak shocks him a little, but the panic in his voice is completely unfamiliar. He tries to move again, and Nix leans more of his weight across him. “You need to let me go, Nix!”
“Jesus Christ Dick, will you just hold still for a second?” Despite losing his sight and most of his memories, Nix is the only one of them who sounds coherent. When he speaks his voice is velvety and firm, and between that and the body contact, Dick has forgotten why he wants to leave. "I thought this was just what we do,” he says, seeking out Dick’s lips again with his fingers.
Dick knows that this is an important moment, and what he says next could change their course completely. It’s times like this that he wishes he didn’t have a conscience. “No Nix, we don’t. I-I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have done that... we’re just friends.”
Nix frowns. “I don’t believe you.”
Dick is battered and reeling. Holding back his emotions is exhausting and he doesn’t understand what Nix is getting at.
The sudden loss of heat as Nix pulls away from him is painful, but Nix's voice is warm and soft as he mutters, “It just feels like there’s more between us than that.”
Dick sighs. He feels so close to everything he wants, but there’s so much to stop him getting it. “I don’t know what to say, Nix.”
And he doesn’t. His brain is offering up a number of suggestions but he can’t filter them.
“Just tell me what’s going on.” Nix looks angry and reaching out to him feels like approaching a bristling animal. Nix shrugs his hand from his arm. “I’ve been seeing things.”
“What?” He doesn’t mean to sound so amazed, but this could mean everything if it’s a step towards Nix’s recovery.
“Not with my eyes, but... there are memories. Just flashes of feelings and pictures.”
Nix has his head in his hands, and when it seems he’s not going to continue, Dick says, “You didn’t say anything.”
Nix brings his head up and shrugs. “It only happened today.”
As he processes the information, he starts to consider what this means - for Nix’s health, and for them. “What do you remember?”
This time when he touches Nix’s arm, Nix doesn’t pull away.
"Like I said, it just feels like there’s more between us.”
The air in the room seems thick and heavy, as Dick thinks through what he needs to say next.
He takes a breath. “Maybe,” he says, soft but firm. “I want...”
One second Nix has rediscovered Dick’s lips with his fingers and the next he’s replaced them with his mouth. It’s a firm, silencing sort of kiss which says, “I told you so," but it’s also reverent, yielding and perfect.
Dick brings his hands up to cradle Nix’s head, tilts it gently for a better angle and lets out a quiet whimper. The sound is muffled against Nix’s lips as though Nix is gathering it up to keep, alongside Dick’s heart.
Their bodies instinctively part for breath. They accept the necessity but Nix finds a compromise, running the tip of his tongue along Dick’s bottom lip, the path his fingers made not long before.
Dick sighs out a happy laugh and Nix smiles against his chin.
“We really haven’t done this before have we?”
“Oh thanks, Lew.”
Nix laughs. “I’m not trying to insult your sexual prowess. It’s just that a first kiss is kinda special.”
He doesn’t want to break the peace. He’s enjoying this optimistic, contented Nix, but he knows this can’t last and there are questions that need to be asked. “What if you never get your memories back?”
He’s relieved to see Nix shrug and smile softly. “I’ll re-learn you.”
It sounds so simple. Maybe it is. “And if you don’t get your sight back?”
He hears Nix scoff. “Then I’ll never find out if you’re actually ugly.”
Dick rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “You’re usually a lot more charming than this.”
Nix smirks and collapses back onto the bed. “I’ll work on it.”
Dick smiles. He’s basked in everything good, and he’ll have to think about the rest tomorrow, but for now he lets the rhythm of their breathing sync together, and just breathes.
Notes
If you like this, please comment or kudos :) Oh, and don’t be sad - my head cannon for this story is that Nix regains both memories and eyesight.
Please visit me on Tumblr (little-lottie) if you have a story prompt or would just like to chat about anything at all.
Mean Time, by Carol Ann Duffy
The clocks slid back an hour
and stole light from my life
as I walked through the wrong part of town,
mourning our love.
And, of course, unmendable rain
fell to the bleak streets
where I felt my heart gnaw
at all our mistakes.
If the darkening sky could lift
more than one hour from this day
there are words I would never have said
nor heard you say.
But we will be dead, as we know,
beyond all light.
These are the shortened days
and the endless nights.