All Things Nice » Band of Brothers

64: Birthday

The first thing Posey got for her twentieth birthday was a letter from, of all people, John. It arrived a few days early, meaning John had made sure to send it well in advance to get it to her on time - practical as he always was with these things - but she read all of it anyway, even though he had written expressly at the top of the page that she had to wait until her actual birthday. She saw little use in that. She could be dead by her birthday and then where would that leave them? To hell with it, she thought, she was reading it now.

It was the first letter she'd ever received from him, aside from the letters that had been addressed to both her and her mother back at the beginning of the war before she'd been evacuated, and though her name wasn't written at the top, the acknowledgement made her heart smile all the same.

His prose read exactly as his speaking sounded, and she could hear his voice in her head as she read it. It wasn't terribly long, only one and a half sides, but he covered all of his bases efficiently and eloquently: birthday wishes, hopes that she was faring well on the line, a brief update on his condition, and the promise that his thoughts were with her. Then, wonderfully, upon reading the post script she tipped upside down the envelope the letter had come in and a small photograph came tumbling out.

Posey recognised the picture immediately, though she hadn't seen it in years. It was of the pair of them as children, John likely around seven and Posey around four, dressed up in their finery and undoubtedly on their way to a fancy event for their father's job. They were holding hands, though each had a teddy bear hanging from their free hand, the same identical bears as each other, Posey's the exact same as the one she currently had tucked into her ODs. Poor Teddy had been through hell since the photograph had been taken and it showed; once pristine and well looked after, he was now blood-stained and well loved. Just as good a friend, though, and just as vital a companion. Exactly the same as her younger self, she refused to go anywhere without him.

Apparently, John had had this picture with him on every sortie. He wrote that he'd had it tucked into his flight suit, so that when his plane went down the photo went down with him. He believed it had brought him luck when he'd needed it most and thought that perhaps Posey might need it more than he did now.

Her eyes, needless to say, had filled with tears the moment she read that and held the photograph in her hands simultaneously.

So he did care after all.

When Johnny sat down beside her in silence, Posey knew he was about to extend the olive branch. They had scarcely spoken in the three days since Bill had been taken off the line but everything about his countenance told her he was about to apologise. Before he had the chance, Posey offered him the photograph.

"From John," she said when he'd taken it. "It was his good luck charm when he was flying, apparently."

"This is you?" Johnny asked, looking at her and inclining his head in the direction of the photo.

Posey supposed he'd never seen her as a girl. It must have been rather jarring. Still, unable to resist, she replied, "No, it's a random girl we met once," without missing a beat, and laughed when he laughed, the tension broken. There was no need to apologise, they were family and families said things they didn't mean sometimes because they cared. And Posey knew he cared, just as she was assured he knew that she cared about him. They'd always be fine in the end.

"This the same bear you're still cartin' around now?" Johnny went on to inquire, again talking about the picture.

Posey nodded, looking back down at it over his shoulder. "The very same, though he's a bit more ragged now. He's been through the ringer a bit."

Johnny snorted. "So have you."

Posey laughed. "This is true. There's a lot of that going around."