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It's raining when Smoke steps off the bus and onto the platform of the station. Not a full downpour, but more than a drizzle.
The sky was grey with clouds, mirroring the storm that had been brewing in his chest since he left 4 years ago.
Four years.
He still remembered the day he received his orders in the mail.
He'd had a feeling that whole week that something wasn't right. So, when he checked his mailbox after work that Friday, he wasn't all too shocked at the contents of the envelope inside.
He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder before making his way to the front of the station, eyes scanning the parking lot in search of his brother's pickup.
A few familiar faces greeted him, excitement lacing their words, but he couldn't bring himself to engage past a simple hello. His mind was elsewhere.
Not on his brother he hadn't seen in 4 years, the longest they'd ever gone without each other. It wasn't on the state of his home that he was sure went without his tending to, because he didn't trust anyone else to fix things the way he did.
It was on Annie.
His love. The woman who meant more than anything in this life to him. The person who saw his whole self, parts of him that he'd never reveal to anyone else.
When he left, he was whole. Now, pieces of him were fractured, and the thought of showing up as anything other than the man she knew terrified him.
He looks around the parking lot again, taking a deep breath as his eyes scan the vehicles.
His eyes flutter closed as the smell of wet asphalt triggers a set of memories. His mind goes back to the day he left.
/////
Heavy footsteps echo through the quiet of his home as he makes his way toward the living room.
The space was always quiet, but it felt unnatural with Annie and Stack both in the space.
The only light in the space was a table lamp in the corner, but it did nothing to brighten the room as the grey sky darkened the world and the space through the windows.
Elijah knew the dread he was filled with was sitting in their chests as well, but the smiles they gave him when he stepped into the room did their best to mask it.
It's silent as he looks between the two of them. His gaze lingers on his twin when he sees his smile falter. If he were anyone else it would've gone unnoticed, But Elijah knew Elias like the back of his hand.
He opens his mouth to speak, but Stack beats him to it.
"I'll leave y'all alone for a minute, gotta let the truck get warmed up."
Elijah wants to call after him, but he's stepping out the door as quickly as the words left his mouth.
His gaze lingers on the door as the screen snaps shut, and it isn't until Annie's arm snakes around his waist that his focus is pulled away.
He looks down at her, and he can only keep his composure for a few seconds before his face falls. He allows himself to crumble in her embrace as the reality of things set in.
When he first found out, his stoicism was a stark contrast to Annie's fear and anxiety. He allowed her to fall apart over the unknown, holding himself together and trying to convince himself as much as he tried to convince her, that everything would be okay.
But as he stood there in her arms, he realized just how much he didn't believe that.
He was terrified.
Terrified for himself, terrified for his brother who he was leaving behind. Terrified of what active war would show him. He'd seen unthinkable things in his life already, but he had a sinking feeling that nothing he's seen would compare to what he was walking into.
He was afraid that what he was walking into would keep him from coming back to her.
"Annie," his voice cracks as his arms tighten around her.
She hums softly, holding him just as tight. She'd never heard him sound like that, the broken sound of his voice feeling like a blow to her chest. But she wouldn't let herself break down, when he needed her to hold him.
She knew he was scared, it showed in the way he held her as the day drew closer, and in the amount of time he insisted on spending with her since he received his letter. He hadn't actually shown it, though, until now.
"Lijah," Annie calls out to him, her voice soft and warm. Her hands find his face when he pulls back enough to look at her.
He took a shaky breath, and Annie can't help but frown as she watches him try and fail to blink away his tears. She swipes them away before they get the chance to make their way down his face.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, making Annie shake her head.
"Nothin' to be sorry for." She leaves a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth.
"You scared. I would be more worried if you weren't. But, I need you to believe everything will be okay."
The frown on his face deepens slightly. "What if ain't?"
Annie shakes her head. "Then we worry about that when it comes to it. You won't get through this thinkin' like that, and I need you to make it through this."
Her hands come down to rest on his chest.
"I need you to make it through this, 'cause we got plans. We got a to finish planning, houses to look at, and three babies to plan for," she says, her voice light.
She sees the twinkle in his eyes as she speaks, and it's enough for her to keep going.
"But more than that, I need you. And I'll be right here waitin' for you to come back to me, Elijah Moore."
His hands come to rest on her waist, tightening slightly as he looks into her eyes.
"What if..."
She looks up at him with nothing but patience and love in her expression as he takes a moment to find his words.
"What if I come back different? What if I can't be the man you need?"
"What I need is you, Elijah. Nothin' else matters to me."
He's pulled from his thoughts when Stack pulls up in front of him honking his horn.
Relief floods Stack's face as he looks at his twin from the driver's seat before hopping out. He walks around the truck, pausing in front of Smoke and taking in his appearance.
After a moment they lock eyes, the same neutral look on their faces, but it doesn't last long as a smile takes over Stack's face.
"Elijah," he says, wrapping his arms around his brother.
Elijah doesn't hesitate to do the same, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.
Stack pulls back, his hands gripping Smoke's shoulders.
"Look at you," he says, relief lacing his words as he looks his brother over once again.
"You really here."
Those words almost break him. He pulls Stack in again, gripping him tighter than before.
"I'm here, Elias."
They stand there like that for a moment, without a care who was watching them. This was the longest they'd been apart, and no matter how many letters were exchanged, the feeling of losing their other half persisted.
After another moment, Stack pulls back and takes Elijah's bag off his shoulder. He turns and opens the door to the truck, sliding it onto the seat before turning back to his brother.
"Hop in," he says before making his way back to the driver's seat.
Elijah gets into the truck, rubbing his palms on his pants once he's settled in the seat. His nerves were beginning to set in, and the all too familiar tremor he'd developed two years in was making it's way through his hands.
He clenched his fists in his lap as Stack climbed in, hoping he wouldn't notice.
Stack reaches into the glove box in front of Smoke, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He pulls one out for himself before tilting the box toward his twin. Smoke almost reaches for one, but when his hand shakes as he opens his fist, he quickly drops it back down.
"I'm good."
Stack looks at him sideways for a moment, shocked that his brother was turning down a smoke, but he doesn't press it. He lights his own before starting the truck and pulling off.
"Where we headed?" he asks the older twin, glancing at him as he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road.
Smoke looks out at the passing landscape, thinking on it for a moment. He wanted nothing more than to lay his eyes on the woman he'd been longing for since he last saw her, but he wasn't ready to see her.
Wasn't ready for her to see him, who he was now.
She knew strong and steady Elijah. The Elijah who kept a calm head when things got out of hand. She knew the man who possessed a level of softness that allowed her to melt into him when they were together. She knew the man who never raised his voice or spoke in a harsh tone when it was just the two of them.
Now, he couldn't find that man in himself. The man who kept a level head, now felt his resolve slipping if someone slammed a door too hard. Since the first night of his mission, that softness hardened to the point that allowing it to resurface wasn't an option, and now he wasn't sure how to dig it up from where he'd buried it inside himself.
Now, there was a roughness to his voice that he didn't know how to smooth out.
Then there were the tremors. The only physical sign of the trauma he'd brought back with him from across the ocean, but serious enough to give them a glimpse of what he endured, and he wasn't ready for Annie or Stack to look at him with sadness in their eyes.
He was sure Annie noticed when the handwriting in his letters went from his near perfect penmanship, to shaky writing, and then to someone else's handwriting altogether. Maybe Stack did, too. The letters became more impersonal, but he refused to stop writing to them. Their letters were his only solace, and he needed them to know he never stopped thinking of them.
"To my house."
The rest of the drive is filled with Stack's voice, catching his brother up on the latest things going on in town that he hadn't written to him about. He raved about how excited everyone was to see Elijah, which made the older twin's shoulders stiffen.
"I ain't ready to have people in my face, Elias."
"I know, I know. They know you'll come around when you ready, but I just want you to know we all glad you home."
Elijah finally looks over at his brother again, his words loosening something behind his ribs.
Stack meets his gaze as he pulls up in front of Elijah's house, and he can see the gratitude in his brother's eyes despite his face holding it's usual frown.
"We here," Stack starts, clapping his hands once after he turns the truck off.
"I know you don't like me touching nothin' in your house, but I couldn't just let it fall apart. I did leave a little bit of stuff for you to fix, though," he says, and Elijah is only half listening to Stack ramble on about repairs as he looks through the wet window at his place. It still looked exactly as he left it, give or take a few plants that he was sure Annie added while he was gone.
He reaches for the door, opening it and making his way up the sidewalk, causing Stack to scramble out and follow behind him with Elijah's bag in tow.
He steps up beside Elijah, who stops at the door with clenched fists at his sides, and unlocks it.
Elijah steps inside first, his steps as hesitant as the day he first walked into Annie's grandmother's living room. He felt as though he was walking into a space that no longer belonged to him, even though it looked exactly as he left it.
This space belonged to a version of him that no longer existed. Elijah Moore was a steady and sure man, and now here he stood, never having felt more of the opposite in his entire life.
Stack steps in behind him, setting the bag down by the couch. He hadn't noticed just how much his brother had changed, and it showed in the way he was beginning to carry on like things were normal.
Sure, he knew Smoke would come back differently, but nothing in Smoke's letters ever indicated the traumas he was suffering. He was protective over his brother that way, in spite of the fact that he was only ten minutes older.
Stack claps his hands together.
"Aight, I was thinkin'-"
"I'm gon' take a shower," Elijah cuts him off, making his way down the hall toward his room.
Stack stands there, watching as he disappears down the hall with furrowed eyebrows.
//////
A few hours later, the rain has subsided and Elijah is dressed in his army greens, pacing his living room floor. Stack stayed for a while, neither of them wanting to be away from each other, but the silence sat between them with an air of awkwardness as it registered for Stack that something was off about his brother.
Elijah told him he was going to head over to see Annie, so Stack left him to gather his nerves.
He was nowhere near ready to see the woman if he was honest—his mind was racing and he didn't know what he wanted to say, or where he wanted to start. The idea of waiting until the next day to see her, though, felt wrong on every level.
He yearned to be near her for four entire years. No matter what he was going through, she was always in the back of his mind. She sent him pictures every once in a while, and each one gave him a new found energy to push through.
She reminded him of the future that waited for them when his letters seemed a little bleak. She encouraged him to push through unprompted, and somehow it was always when he needed it the most. She supported him when he told her he was extending his tour, staying past the window in which he originally thought he would. She made him feel loved enough for the both of them.
Yet there he was in his living room, petrified at the idea of facing her.
He'd convinced himself she wouldn’t be accepting of the man he'd returned as. Why? He had no explanation for it.
Annie wasn't the type of woman who would do something like that, he knew that. But, his desire to give her everything she deserved had him telling himself that he was no longer that.
He was a broken man, torn apart by violence and trauma, unsure of what steps he'd need to take to repair himself, and coming to her in this state felt wrong. She shouldn't be burdened with task of trying to help him fix himself.
He didn't want her to do it, but he knew nothing could be done to stop her from trying. The trauma sat deep in his bones, and he was convinced it would never fully come out.
The thought of that being true scared him. What if Annie grew tired of dealing with it?
His mind raced with many different thoughts that told him to stay put in his home, but his feet had a mind of their own as they carried him out his front door.
He glanced over at his car that sat in his driveway, and contemplated driving it. His answer was decided before he really got the chance to think about it when a car driving on the next street over backfired, and his whole body stiffened.
He stepped off the porch and started walking the few streets over that led to the Baptiste home.
On the outside, he looked as calm as he ever did. He responded when the few people who'd come outside since the rain stopped said hello and welcomed him home, but his mind wasn't fully present in the moment.
As he got closer to her home, all he could think about was her reaction to seeing him. The unsettled feeling was creeping under his skin, and his tremors went from something only he knew was there, to something he knew he wouldn't be able to hide.
His heart called to her, though. He couldn't stop himself from walking the rest of the way up the street, up the stairs and onto the porch. He didn't hesitate as he raised his fist to wrap three times on the door.
He clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for someone to answer the door. His grip tightened slightly as his nerves picked up, but he held his composure as he waited.
Angelle Baptiste opened the door, a smile on her face as she looked Elijah over.
"Mrs. Baptiste," he says, standing up a bit straighter, if that was possible.
"Elijah. Welcome home," she says as she steps out onto the porch. She wraps her arms around him, and he can't help but relax in her warm embrace as he returns the hug. He wasn't sure he'd ever be used to the older woman's affection, she didn't hug him often, but somehow she always knew when he needed it the most.
He's about to pull away from the hug to reply when the voice he'd longed to hear froze him in his tracks.
"Granny, who's that at the door?" Annie calls from in the living room before she steps into the doorway.
Her eyes lock in his, and for a moment it's like time froze.
Elijah's breath hitches as he takes her in. Time did nothing but enhance her beauty. The pictures she'd sent him didn't do her justice. He felt grateful and unworthy all at once.
"Elijah," Annie calls out to him, her voice wavering.
"Sugar," he manages to get out. Angelle had long stepped out of their path, but the two stood frozen in place.
"Antoinette, bring your behind outside."
Annie looks at her grandmother briefly before opening the door and stepping out onto the porch. Angelle leaves the two of them alone, and only a moment passes before Annie's stepping into his embrace.
"Elijah," she calls out to him again, her voice filled with tears.
"You came back."
His arms tighten around her as his face finds her neck. He inhales deeply, the scent of her perfume bringing tears to his eyes.
He holds her for a long while before pulling back slightly and planting a soft kiss on her neck. His lips trail soft kisses from there to her cheek, then the corner of her mouth, before planting a gentle one on her lips.
Tears are flowing down both of their faces as they look into each other's eyes.
"You came back," she murmurs again, her hands coming up to rest at the nape of his neck.
"I had somebody waitin' for me," he manages to get out with a shaky voice.
That makes Annie crack a smile. She leans up and kisses him deeply, something they both longed to do for so many years.
She pulls away after a moment, remembering where they were and looked him in his eyes. She saw the love he held for her, but she also saw the pain he carried.
"You wanna come inside?" she asks him softly, and he nods after a moment.
She grabs his hand and leads him into the house, and the two of them walk to the sun room that was off the kitchen. They take up the love seat, Annie leaning into his side with her head resting on his shoulder as she held his hand.
It's quiet as they sit there at first, Elijah not knowing what to say, and Annie just wanting to enjoy being in his presence for the first time in so long. It isn't until she glances down at his other hand resting in his lap that she sits up.
Elijah looks over at her, not having to wonder what was on her mind, when her free hand comes to rest over his.
"This why you had somebody else writin' your letters?" she questions gently after a moment, squeezing his hands softly.
He nods once, looking off to the side instead of at her.
"Look at me," she says, her tone firm but gentle.
"I hope you ain't come over here carrying shame, Elijah."
The pained expression that makes its way onto his face tells her all she needs to know, and she brings one hand up to hold his face. Her thumb rubs soothing circles by the corner of his mouth, willing his frown to soften.
“You remember what I told you before you left?” she asks him.
“All I need is you here with me, Lijah. I meant it when I said nothin’ else matters.”
He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but he can’t find the words.
“You wearin’ how you feel all over your face, and in them shoulders of yours. I don’t need you to try and explain something to me that you can’t fully wrap your mind around. I just want you to be, and to let me be here for you.”
Her other hand comes up to his other cheek, and she wipes the stray tears that fall down his cheeks.
“Promise me you’ll try and let me,” she says softly.
Elijah takes a breath, closing his eyes as he tries to ground himself.
After a moment he looks at her again.
“I promise. But it might take me a while.”
Annie nods and pecks his lips.
“We got all the time in the world.”