Call of Duty Oneshots

Homecoming (Aiello)

It'd been close to four years since you'd seen him. At times, you found yourself struggling to remember his face, every sturdy detail and feature. Then you would unfold the picture in your locket and gaze in admiration at the face of him, how his nose was straight, his eyes almond-shaped and brown, his eyebrows thinner and cocked in humor, his pale pink lips curved into a sly smirk.

You found yourself folding up the image as you raised your head to face the train. Men were throwing themselves off, some embracing family and loved ones, while others stared blankly past and headed off into the city. You patiently peered around the crowding people, hoping to see even a glimpse of Aiello.

You hadn't received the letter in his time of serving; every woman and parent dreaded getting the letter that told them their son or significant other was lost to the world war. If anything, he'd been the one to send you letters when he got the chance and even then they were scarce. You sent more than him.

It made you silently question everything. Would your love still be the same? Would he be so changed by the war that he wouldn't want you any longer? Was the four years apart the destruction of your relationship?

Before leaving, he'd proposed to you, ring and all. It'd been in front of your parents, at a Christmas gathering, and all you could say was yes. Days before he'd volunteered for war, the two of you had been planning a wedding. Would that still be happening?

You had never wanted him to leave, but you knew that it was a man's duty to. He'd be considered a lazy coward to not help America in the fight overseas. It had torn you in two to watch him leave on the very train that was supposed to be bringing him back.

As people started to disappear with their families, the station started becoming quieter. You were peering at all of the train doors, praying Aiello would pop his head out with a smile. The crowd still blocked some, embracing their soldiers in relief and cries.

Your heart started to drop as you realized there could've been a miscommunication. The officers may have lost count on those lost, missing Aiello and his body entirely. Then it wouldn't have been communicated he was dead.

You slowly turned, dipping your head in silent depression. Tears started welling at the corners of your eyes and your gloved hands shook- it was cool outside and now it was feeling even colder.

"Y/N?" there was a shout, a movement through the crowd behind you. "Y/N!"

You spun around, you mouth gaping in shock. Aiello dropped his bag as you ran to him. Upon clashing against his chest, you let out a cry of relief. Aiello squeezed the back of your head to his chest, as if never ever wanting to let you go.

His voice had sounded surprised, as if he hadn't expected you to be here to meet him. You squeezed him tighter upon thinking such things. Of course you would be here, ready to reunite with your best friend...the love of your life.

"Frank," you whispered.

He drew your head away, tilting your chin upwards to press a warm, loving kiss to your parted lips. You gripped his bicep as you became lightheaded, feeling the difference in muscle. Aiello had always been in shape, but being gone at the war had increased that fitness. He also felt thin against you, as if he hadn't been eating as much as he'd needed to over the last few months.

You were determined to feed him all of his favorite dishes you made.

"Let's get home," he smiled down at you, his smile still slightly crooked and his eyes squinting at the motion.