No Bravery | dunkirk au

No Bravery

Febraury 1st, 1945: 

Tommy could no longer recognize Alex. 

The change had been gradual - or abrupt, really, because Tommy could not recall the day where he remembered Alex as he used to be. One day Alex was his best friend, the person he used to trust the most in the whole world, the person he would've gladly gave a limb for (if not his whole life). 

And then one day, all of a sudden, Alex was a monster who had started torturing people for the sake of it, asking questions that he knew simple privates could not answer for. One day, all of a sudden, Alex had started getting his companions hurt on the battle field on purpose, just so he could manipulate them into doing what he wanted. One day, all of a sudden, Alex had shut everyone out, starting to act as if the past years of his life had never happened. One day, all of a sudden, Alex had decided that the months from September 1943 to the end of April 1944 hadn't happened to him, the farm was not a real place and Pietro, Bianca, the missions and - most importantly - Alex's fiancee had never existed. 

All of a sudden, everything had changed. Tommy had gone to sleep one night, sure of everything that he knew and believed in the world and when he had woken up, the following morning, everything had been completely changed for the worst. 

Tommy could no longer recognize Alex, for the Alex he knew had burned down with the farm, 9 months ago. And yet, Tommy could not leave him. 

He did not know why, but he could not fathom the idea of getting up and simply walking away from Alex, the other three men that followed him anywhere and go somewhere - he did not know where. 

He could not fathom the idea of leaving his best friend alone, surrounded by people who did not care for his health - both physical and mental - and would've gladly helped him digging his own grave if that meant he would've tortured someone else for them. And Alex wouldn't have done anything for himself, would've gladly said to them 'COME! COME DESTROY ME A BIT MORE!', for he was stuck inside of his own mind, and Tommy knew that he blamed himself for everything, and the way he was acting was both to punish himself and everyone else who had let that happen. 

He could not let go of the idea that, under all that hatred and coldness and ruthlessness, Alex was still here: the Alex he had met at Dunkirk, who had turned out to be his best friend, the person who had saved his life more than once, the same person who - when they were facing grave danger - would always look for him first, then think of leaivng and get to safety himself. 

Tommy knew that he was still there, simply because a personality such as Alex's, couldn't just disappear in a day. The new Alex, the one who was a monster with no heart, no mercy and bloody hands - that was just a ruse. 

Or at least, that was what Tommy kept saying to himself, day after day. 

That was what he repeated to himself as he woke up, lived the same day over and over, small variations happening from time to time. 

Him and Alex rarely spoke together. Mostly, Tommy recognized, it was his fault, for he couldn't find anything that would've constituted a topic of conversation for the both of them: it wasn't like he could walk up to him and start chatting about the weather. And, after all, it was not like before, when Alex would start a conversation on his own, with Tommy, because he trusted him and knew Tommy wouldn't have judged him, whatever it was that Alex would've said to him. 

In the past month Alex had grown even quieter than he had become after April 25th of 1944, when he had found the bloodied flower bracelet on the ground in front of the small shack where he had asked Pia to marry him. 

In the months after the accident, when he had been fueled by anger - Tommy could see that anger had been his prime source of gasoline to go on with his life - Alex had somehow grown closer to Peppe. Not because the two shared some sort of affection for the other, but because Peppe was doing what Alex wanted him to do. Because of this, he would spend the most of his time with Peppe - and consequently, Checco - in front of the fire, at night, talking about nothing in particular. But at least he was talking.