Makin' Plans (hbo war imagines)

17. Bill "Hoosier" Smith; Home Again

Much to the disappointment of your mother, you came home a smoker. You tried to extinguish your cigarette before you hopped off the train, but the smell clung to you.

"Oh, Y/N, sweetheart, you have no idea how much we've missed seeing your face," she gushed, pulling you into a tight hug. "The letters just weren't enough." You could feel her momentarily tense up, but she saved the lecture for the ride home.

"Oh, I know I told you about Johnny Dyer," she  said as you followed her into the house. Your father followed close behind with your suitcase—he had insisted on carrying it. "His poor family." Shaking her head, she turned to you gravely. "I know it'd mean the world to his mama if you went and visited. I know how much you loved those boys. Most of 'em are home now too. Charlie Pulley came back missing his hand, and I think one of the boys has a real bad scar on his face—I don't recall which one now."

"The Wesley boy," your father added.

"Ah, that's the one."

Your heart broke with each name she said. Those were your boys.

Growing up, you hung around the neighborhood boys quite a bit, having very few girls your age around. You didn't whine too much and could stand up for yourself when you needed to, so they let you hang around. You became everyone's little sister. Even up into high school and after, you were always closer to them.

When the war cast it's ugly shadow over America, your boys—as everyone had grown to call them—were some of the first to go, either on their own accord or drafted. As more of them went, you decided you weren't getting left behind.

You began to make your way to your room but stopped. "Hey, Mama."

"Yes?"

"What about Bill?"

A sad smile lifted her lips ever so slightly. "He got hurt over where he was. He's been home for a while now. You're liable to see him around."

Bill Smith, as one of the oldest of the crew, had always had a soft spot for you. Everyone knew it, but no one said anything about it—in front of him—except, of course, for your respective mothers. His place in your heart was just as big as yours in his; however, neither of you were ever ready to talk about it.

Even when he announced that he would be joining the Marines, you held back whatever feelings you wanted to admit. You couldn't be mad that he wanted to go head first into combat because everyone knew you wanted to be there too. So you internalized it, and focused on looking for your own place in the war effort.

Sitting on your front steps, you pulled out a cigarette, ignoring the fact that your mother would rip you a new one about it later.

"Is that Y/N smoking like a chimney?"

You turned towards the voice, seeing Bill walking your way. "I was wondering who I'd see first."

"I guess I'm the lucky one that gets to welcome you home."

You noticed his limp, but you were relieved that he otherwise seemed alright for a man that had seen war.

"Guess so." You patted the open spot next to you.

He carefully sat down next to you. "From what I heard, we just missed each other. We were in Guadalcanal—finally learned how to say the name before I left—and then Gloucester. I got hit in Peleliu."

You nodded, leaning into him a little so your shoulders firmly touched. "Yeah. They trained me to be a mechanic and then sent me to Hell on Earth in winter gear just to retrain me to work in a supply depot. I guess I showed up just before you left."

Where you had seen him in better health than you had expected, your appearance startled him.

The harsh conditions of your time in the Pacific as a WAC left you much skinnier than you had ever been. The youthful glint in your eyes had been replaced by seemingly permanent dark circles under your eyes. And the smoking... Well, it was unlike you.

Seeing you, looking so much older than you were and puffing out clouds, he ached for the girl that had waved him off. The one he had chased around. The one that he had taken to prom. But more than anything, he just wanted to see you smile.

"Funny to think we were on a couple of islands out there, not a thousand miles from each other, but we wouldn't ever know it."

And there he got it. Your smile.

"God, I wish it were funny," you gently rested your head on his shoulder. "What I would have given for a familiar face out there. All these boys, and I didn't see anyone I knew for way too long."

"Aw, are you most upset you had to make friends?" He laughed, but you both knew he was the less social one.

"No. I missed you." Nearly choking on what you had just said, you quickly added, "I missed my boys."

"You mean to tell me that you joined up, made a bunch of friends, and got stuck on an island full of men, and you still missed us?"

Sitting back upright, you punched his arm. "Of course, I did. I hardly imagined a life without any of you." The thing laying heavy on your heart threatened to close your throat before you could verbalize it. "I just wish- I just wish we could all be here."

He slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him. With his other hand, he plucked the forgotten cigarette from your fingers. He put it to his own lips for a drag before stomping it out.

Growing comfortable in his hold, you decided it was now or never. "You don't know how happy I am that you made it home."

"I might know a little," he chuckled. "I figure it's about as happy as I was when I saw you sitting out here."

"Bill?"

"Mm?"

"Would you come with me when I go visit everyone? I don't think I could do it by myself."

A million things ran through his mind, not one of them could you read on his face. "Sure thing, but I've gotta ask: would you have asked just the first person that came to see you?"

You turned to look at him and shook your head. "Of course not. You know you were always my favorite."

"Lucky me."

"I basically just told you I love you, and that's all you've got to say?" You looked at him incredulously.

He frowned in thought, though a smile peaked through. "I don't think I heard you say anything like that."

You nudged him in the ribs. "Did you expect some grand confession?"

"No, but I can show you how I'd have done it."

"Oh, really? I'd like t-"

He swooped down, his lips crashing down on yours. It was messy and awkward, but it wasn't like you hadn't done this before. This time, however, there was meaning and purpose behind it. Everything he had ever wanted to say to you was coming through.

And, boy, were you glad to be home.

This was a tumblr request.

I love when I do research for something I barely mention 🙃😂 it was fun reading up on women in the military in WWII tho. Also idk how I feel about the ending but 🤷🏻‍♀️ M'kay.

~Mariah