endlessfrozenpines
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Joe doesn’t sleep well. Maybe he never did, Web thinks—remembers late nights in Holland, too-early mornings in Austria—but there’s no doubt about it now. Web will blink awake in the middle of the night to find Liebgott smoking beside him, or reading, or gone.
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After the war, Joe and Web come together and fall apart.
Bookmarked by endlessfrozenpines
07 Jul 2026
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He’s not spent six years hanging his whole hat on sailing halfway to Dunkirk, he’s not plagued by the sound of Spitfires in his dreams. He thinks he’s rather moved on from all of it, as much as he can, and the guilt that hits him, when it hits him, is momentary, fleeting. There and gone like those moments when you’re alone, in the dark, and it occurs to you afresh that one day you’re not going to wake up, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.
Usually he can bottle it up, store it away inside him somewhere it won’t come rolling back out if he can help it. He can’t today, only half his mind on Aristotle.
The other half of his mind thinks the boy’s eyes were green.
[Or they learn when survival just isn't enough.]
Bookmarked by endlessfrozenpines
25 Jul 2025