An Expensive Solitude: A Band of Brothers Fanfiction

The Surrender

Sturzelburg

"You tell them what you always tell them. Their sons died as heroes."

"You really still believe that?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

The clear, lonely ting of a well-made clock sounded in the other room. Dick's calm, level gaze did nothing to quell the inky despair that clung to Nixon's insides like tar. He still felt the heat of the exploding plane on his back. He wondered if he would ever be rid of it.

"Don't you?" Dick asked with a quirk of his jaw.

All Nixon knew at that moment was how desperate he was to lose himself. He wanted to anesthetize the wound with whiskey. Self-medicating had become a way of life for him. Without anyone to hold him back, Nixon could slip away into the quiet abyss of a good, solid buzz. He threw back the whiskey in his hand. He didn't even notice the burn anymore.

Glancing down at the glass, his thoughts drew back briefly to the news of his demotion. It didn't matter to him, demotion or promotion. Such things as medals and rankings were inconsequential. Sink's reason had been his drinking, but Nix had his suspicions.

"Did the Colonel have anything else to say?" Nixon stood, reaching for a half empty bottle. "About my behavior, I mean."

Dick looked up from where he had laid his hand on the back of a chair and shrugged. "Nothing other than the concern I already mentioned. He felt you were a better fit as an S3."

"A better fit, huh?" Nixon snorted and glanced over into the fireplace. "A better fit and far away from Lieutenant Edith Sink, I should think."

He threw back his head as he took another drink. He glanced over at Dick. The Major's mouth drew back in a thin line as he lifted an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I may have... kissed Lieutenant Sink the last time I was up at Regiment." Nixon dropped his gaze. "It's all a bit hazy to be honest."

Dick stared at him blankly. Abruptly, he paced towards the hearth.

"You made a pass at the Colonel's daughter?"

"Yes. He walked in on us."

Bracing a hand on the hearth, Dick ran his hand over his face. "You can't be serious."

"Completely."

Nixon swirled his glass. He didn't know why he'd backed Edith into a corner and kissed the woman like he had something to offer her. It had been impulsive and selfish. One moment he had been consumed with the thought of another combat jump, another chance at death, more promises of blood. Then he was kissing that mouth of hers that still drove him to distraction.

Perhaps he had been trying to lose himself in her as he did in a bottle of whiskey. Lose himself in her coolness, her quiet, her marble like solidity. Edith was like a damn Greek statue. The woman could probably withstand a hurricane without a scratch. She was so much like Dick, it was uncanny. He smirked as he remembered her expression as she had taken a drink from his flask. Perhaps, she wasn't completely similar to his stoic best friend.

"Tell you what though. The Ice Queen does melt and it's a sight to see."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Nixon looked over at Dick quizzically. He had his back half turned towards him. Nixon noticed that he had a firm grip on the mantelpiece.

"Dick?"

Winters straightened with a brief look in his direction. "Stop calling her that."

He strode from the room without another word, leaving Nixon to his whiskey and the task of writing condolences to the parents of dead paratroopers.