#sledge x snafu

[noirtowwy]

can't get enough of them🙏

[medicorpsman]

As much as I enjoy the stereotyping, or cliche, of Eugene as a young boy from smalltown Hicksville Mobile, Alabama, and Snafu as some native to the dangerous 'n filthy streets of New Orleans, Louisiana, I find it much more amusing that the fact is Eugene is the rich, well-groomed city slicker, while Snafu was an actual homegrown small town hick Cajun from Jackson, Louisiana—either from the West Feliciana Parish or the East.

“Between 1940 and 1943, more than 89,000 people moved into Mobile to work for war effort industries. Mobile was one of eighteen United States cities producing Liberty ships.” Mobile has been a city since 1813.

As described in With The Old Breed, Snafu was proud of a newspaper clipping from his hometown paper in Louisiana describing the effective fire his ''mortar gun'' had poured on the Japs during the bloody fighting for Hill 660 on Cape Gloucester. Snafu was considered a local, home grown, small town hero.

It's just another attractive dichotomy between the two though, in regard to the characters depicted in The Pacific.

[mackerly-monspop]

More, more edits for them 💓💓💓💓 this audio fits them so well

[jaucher]

[softasawhisper]

for @callmejude

[ferally-ships]

So… those who know me… know how much I really don’t like these two (plus Leckie) but goddamn it if I’m not here for soft Snafu.

Look - the dude makes me uncomfy as hecc but like… these scene tho… 🥺

[awaterfalls]

Okay, I'm excited to post all of it!!!

• I had to post the pacific cast too bc the pic is so cute to be left out 😊

• I keep looking at this pics all the time and I don't know what to say anymore.. I JUST LOVE THEM!!!! 😭😭😭😭

Part 4/??

[mads-nixon]

See the Good

Eugene Sledge x Medic!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Merry Christmas @iceman-kazansky!! I literally squealed when I saw I got you as my giftee! I loved your prompts, and I hope you like what I did with them!! I'm going to post one gift per day so that they'll be a little spaced out! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of k company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Prompt: “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: When Gene can only see himself as the terrible things he's done in the war, (y/n) is right there to remind him who he really is.

Warnings: descriptions of dead bodies (non-graphic)

OKINAWA, JAPAN: MAY, 1945:

The ground beneath their boots trembled, and the deafening whistles of mortars filled the air as (y/n) and the rest of K Company ran for cover. They sunk into the muddy sludge below them, turning each step into a battle against the sucking earth. Gripping her corpsman pack with white knuckles, (y/n) followed Gene, not daring to stop in the barrage.

“They have us targeted!” Burgie yelled, hurdling over a giant boulder in his path. “Get to cover!”

Just as (y/n) ran past the remnants of a demolished shed, a sudden blast threw her violently to the ground, sending a cascade of mud in all directions. Her ears rang with disorientation as she blinked slowly, struggling to regain her senses. The ringing faded into a muffled whine and a face appeared in (y/n)‘s vision. Although the figure’s face was blurred, she knew it was Eugene. His mouth moved rapidly, but she couldn’t understand a word he said. Realizing this, he quickly grasped the front of her uniform and hoisted her to her feet, throwing an arm around her waist to keep her upright as they bolted for cover.

Reaching the rocks, (y/n)‘s hearing slowly faded back, and the sounds of booming artillery reached her ears.

Sledge pulled on her arm, helping her over the rugged terrain. “Come on. We’re almost there!”

Finally reaching the safety of cover, the company continued farther into the rocks to escape the barrage. Snafu was in front of them and on the verge of a panicked breakdown.

“This is bullshit!” he cried, plopping down on a rock. “If I ever find the FO that called that arty, I’ll shoot him!”

Gene maintained his hold on (y/n) as he led them toward a big rock, his frustration evident. “They’ll just do it again,” he huffed, gritting his teeth. “All because some asshole officer read a map wrong and nobody gives a shit about us!”

After he sat (y/n) on the boulder beside Snafu, Eugene took a deep breath and sank beside her. He turned to the dazed woman beside him, her once white corpsman armband a brown and muddy mess. “You alright?” he asked her, knowing even he himself wasn’t alright after what happened before the shelling.

The woman and her baby…

(Y/n) nodded slowly, her eyes rising from the ground to meet his. ”Yeah. Just got my bell rung. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Sledge persisted.

“Yes, Gene. I’m okay,” she murmured wearily, rubbing her eyes. “Really.”

Removing her helmet, she threaded her fingers through her (y/h/c) hair, wincing at the dried mud that pulled at the roots. Over their time on the dreadful island, they all discovered that the jungle was just as much an enemy as the Japs.

Snafu stared wide-eyed at the ground below him, hands on his head as his chest heaved. His expression was the same one that each marine wore as they grappled with the massacre they’d just witnessed.

What country uses its own civilians as shields for a surprise attack?

As a corpsman, (y/n) had seen more death than the average marine, and after the fierce fighting on the islands of Peleliu and Pavuvu, she was struggling to remain afloat in the vast ocean of numbness that threatened to drown her. The only thing keeping her above water were her boys, the men of K Company: Sledge, Snafu, Burgin, and De L’eau, although Jay had been transferred to intelligence. They’d lost so many good men, and it made her even more thankful for the guys who had always been there for her.

“Corpsman up front!”

The call snapped (y/n) from her thoughts, and she quickly rose, momentarily losing her balance until a strong hand grasped her upper arm, holding her steady. She felt the warmth of his hand through her thin ODs as he held her in place, accompanied by a blush creeping up her neck.

“(Y/n)-” Gene started.

Shrugging him off gently, she turned toward the call. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Be careful,” he whispered after her, watching her form disappear into a sea of olive-green uniforms. With another deep breath, Sledge sat back down, trying to calm his still-racing heart. She had been right behind him…until she wasn’t. Panic had gripped him when he saw her motionless figure in the mud as the artillery rained down around them. When she opened her eyes, he felt a weight lift off his chest.

Rain drenched the marines through the night as they held their position looking up to the ridge. Around 2000HRS the next day, (y/n) trudged back to her squad, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Dried blood clung to her cracked hands, refusing to wash away, no matter how many times she’d scrubbed them raw. The casualties were unending like the rain that constantly poured on them. Luckily, the downpour had come to a stop in the early morning.

She’d been at the BAS since the previous afternoon treating and evacuating wounded marines from the already bloody battle. Continued artillery and fire throughout the day brought a steady stream of bleeding men through the tent’s entrance. One of these men had been Bill Leyden. He wasn’t in good shape, and when (y/n) saw the damage on her friend’s body, the air rushed from her lungs. After pushing away the panic, she quickly helped other corpsmen stabilize him, before sending him off to a hospital ship. As she watched him go, her heart sank at the realization the company had lost another man…another friend.

“Hey Doc,” Snafu called out gently as she approached.

She looked up from her feet at the man with a tired smile. “Hey, Snaf,” she whispered. “You seen Gene?”

Motioning over his shoulder, Snafu replied, “He’s right over there. But, Bill…“

“Yeah,” she sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We got him stabilized. He should make a full recovery. Lost a few fingers, though.”

In a trance-like state, Snafu nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. It was something they all did. A way to escape the horrors they lived through. With a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, (y/n) moved to find Sledge, but the Cajun’s voice stopped her.

“Eugene. He got a letter…his dog died.”

She turned to face him with raised brows. “Deacon?”

“I guess,” the man nodded. “I think he’s bothered more than he’s letting on. You know how Eugene is.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him.”

She found him staring into space ahead of him as he sat up against one of the island’s many rocks. Before she approached, (y/n) simply watched the man before her. She could see his growing stubble and the mud that splattered his cheeks, but what worried her was the blank expression on his face. She longed to see the lopsided smile that used to hang from his lips. (Y/n) didn’t know how long it had been since she’d seen that smile…too long.

Pulling her satchel off her shoulder, she quietly approached him and slouched down beside him. They sat silently for a moment, the warmth of their touching shoulders spreading through them. Gene was the first to break the silence.

“Did you see Bill?” he asked quietly, his eyes still glued on the rocks in front of him.

(Y/n) nodded, looking up at him with a small smile. “Yeah, he’s gonna be okay.”

Gene leaned his head back against the ground with a thud, his eyes closed as a shuttering sigh escaped his lips. She sat up off the rock and turned toward him, gently taking his hand.

“I’m sorry about Deacon.”

The second her fingers intertwined with his, Sledge’s heartbeat accelerated, and the man felt heat spread through his body. He took a moment to compose himself before he opened his eyes. He looked down at their intertwined hands before meeting her concerned gaze.

In that moment, Eugene could have sworn she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that she was coated in blood, mud, and sweat. She was there for him like nobody else had ever been in his whole life. Sure, he was close with his parents, but he felt they never completely understood him.

Who’d have thought that he’d have to travel almost eight thousand miles to find someone who could do so?

Eugene’s eyes flashed down to her lips, unable to control himself as their closeness made him suddenly bold. He always wondered what they’d taste like. How they’d feel against his. They were chapped, just like everyone else's, but that didn’t matter. The young man wanted a way to show her how much she meant to him. Sure, there had been moments where he told himself he was going to kiss her, but the moment ended before he had the opportunity. Something in the moment felt wrong, though, and he decided to wait once more.

“Thank you,” he whispered, swallowing thickly as he tried to regain his composure and keep the memories of his beloved dog at bay. “He was a good dog.”

“How old was he? 10? 11?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “10.”

The woman’s eyes searched his face, trying to get a read of what he needed from her. She saw pain in his hazel eyes. Pain from the loss of Bill. Pain from the loss of Deacon. Pain caused by the war.

She decided he needed some hope. Some laughter.

“Did I tell you about the time Snaf and I almost got caught stealing from an Army captain?”

Later that day, Gene and the rest of his squad sat among the rocks, each lost in their mind. (Y/n) was beside him, writing in her journal, and they were doing the same…all except Peck, who was attempting to dig a foxhole in the soaked ground. Since the day they arrived on the wretched island, Sledge kept up with how many days they spent there with tallies in the back of his Bible. With the days running together, they rarely knew what day it was or how long they’d been there.

“What’s the date?” Burgie asked, putting down his small journal.

The group turned to Gene, who took a deep breath. “June 5th, maybe. Might be the 6th.” He turned to (y/n). “(Y/n/n), which one you got?”

“I have no idea,” she sighed. “I gave up keeping track a while ago.”

Peck decided to chime in as he dug. “We’re never getting off this island.”

Everyone was thinking it, but he was the one person who dared to speak it aloud.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, glancing over at Gene with an annoyed expression. If looks could kill, Peck would be six feet deep from the redhead’s glare. His jaw clenched tightly, and his chest began to heave as he stared at the replacement.

Sensing his rising anger, (y/n) reached over and placed a hand on his thigh. His eyes moved to meet hers, and her (y/e/c) irises seemed to whisper, ”He’s not worth it,” and, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Gene took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Beating the crap out of Peck wouldn’t bring Bill back, and letting anger consume you was a dangerous game. Every time he was tempted to let it in, (y/n) was right there, a soft presence telling him that hate was not the answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted daily. Sledge had seen what men could do to each other. He had seen what the Japs did to his friends.

Looking away from Gene, she was met with a strange stare from Snafu, who was smoking a cigarette and sitting on their makeshift toilet. His gaze was questioning, but not criticizing. When the man’s eyes drifted down to her hand, her stomach dropped, and she felt like she was caught red-handed. (Y/n) quickly removed her hand from Gene’s leg and shot to her feet.

“I’m gonna go-uh-do some rounds,” she announced, not daring to look at Gene or Snafu.

A few seconds later, she went treading through the sludge, her corpsman satchel pressed tightly to her side. The men all watched in confusion as she left, unsure what had made her so jumpy all of a sudden.

“She alright?” Hamm asked once she’d disappeared from view.

Burgie, always an observer, glanced over at Sledge to watch his reaction. He looked somewhat like a kicked puppy. Wrapping up his Bible, Gene began to tuck it into his pocket without a word.

“Don’t worry about (y/n), Hamm,” Burgie replied with a nod.

Hamm raised an eyebrow at his sergeant. “But did you see her-”

“She’s fine,” Snafu interrupted, pulling up his pants and rejoining the group. “Besides, she’s already got someone to worry about her.”

At the statement, Eugene froze, a cold chill running through him despite the heat. A million thoughts ran rampant in his mind.

Is there someone else in her life?

Does he know something I don’t?

Does he know how I feel?

Groaning, Burgie smacked the Cajun’s shoulder. “Shut up, Snaf. Don’t go starting crap.”

The sergeant first noticed the bond between Sledge and (y/n) back in training, but especially when the company landed on Peleliu. They always stuck by one another when they could, and she seemed to help calm the Marine amid his anxiety. As time went on and their relationship changed, Romus knew they had feelings for one another, even if they didn’t admit it. He’d never spoken about it to anyone, fearing it could become a rumor that would possibly get the pair in trouble if they ever acted on their feelings. Hearing Snafu insinuate something between them sent a pang of panic through him.

“We all worry about (y/n),” he continued. “But she’s a great corpsman. She can hold her own.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eugene rose to his feet and went to take a leak. He did have to relieve himself, but he also wanted to get away from the conversation. If Snafu knew about how he felt, the man would never stop tormenting him. Even if it was in a joking way, Gene didn’t want to be the subject of Shelton’s teasing.

Just as he made it to a somewhat secluded spot, he heard Mac’s voice ring out from above him.

“I need a stovepipe boy up top!” he yelled, coming down from the ridge.

Gene slightly ducked his head behind a rock, hoping the lieutenant would miss him. To his dismay, Mac caught his movement in the corner of his eye.

“Sledge, that’s you. Bring some comm wire.”

Sighing when his superior disappeared over the ridge, he muttered, “Yes, sir,” and went to follow his orders.

The stench of excrement and death permeated the air as (y/n) walked through their temporary camp checking on the men. Her eyes watered from the smell, and it took all her willpower not to gag. Even though she’d built a great tolerance to gruesome sights and smells over her time as a corpsman, sometimes it all got to her.

Snafu’s stare replayed in her mind, and she hoped that she didn’t accidentally give herself away to the group. Worry buzzed in her stomach like the disgusting flies that seemed to be ever-present among the mud and filth of Okinawa. (Y/n) tried to busy her mind with the long list of men to check on, but she couldn’t focus more than a few moments before getting lost in her head again.

Spotting a man on her list, she called out to him.

“Hey, James,” she greeted, approaching his muddy foxhole. “How’s the ankle?”

He groaned and shook his head. “As good as it’s gonna be, Doc.”

In the barrage the day prior, the private slipped and rolled his ankle in the mud trying to get to cover. He insisted he was fine, but some of his squadmates sent (y/n) to check on him. Henry James was a stubborn young man who wasn’t even old enough to drink, yet he was on a foreign island in Southeast Asia fighting for his country…fighting to survive. She crouched beside his hole, inspecting the ankle that was elevated above the entrance.

“Were you able to stay off it much?” (y/n) asked, gently prodding the bruised skin.

“A buddy of mine took my OP shift so I didn’t have to walk around on it. It’s more stiff than anything.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s how ankles are. They’re tough-”

Her voice came to a stop as yelling filled the air. It wasn’t cheers of victory or anything of that nature. They were cries of attack…of desperation…of death. The second the sound registered in her mind, she was darting toward the ridge, hoping to get there before the shooting started in case someone got hit. The rapid beating of her heart filled her ears as she ran through the mud and past battle-weary marines. A few of them called out to her, but she didn’t hear them.

The first ping of an M-1 being fired echoed through the air as she made it to the base of the rocky ridge. Cursing under her breath, she quickly began her ascent. Finding the most solid footing, she climbed the hill, using the jagged rocks as handholds. Gunfire filled the air, silencing the screams of the enemy. (Y/n) was out of breath when she made it to the top, but she didn’t stop. Most of the fire had stopped, but a few shots still rang out.

At the moment the corpsman reached the other marines at the top of the ridge, her heart sank at the sight of Eugene unholstering his revolver and aiming at a wounded Jap.

“Cease fire!” Mac cried from the other side of the ridge. “Cease fire!”

Gene didn’t care.

“Damn, Sledge. Leave him,” Hamm muttered to the redhead.

Whipping around to face him, Eugene scowled. “What for? He’s a Jap, ain’t he?”

(Y/n) watched in horror as Gene opened fire on the man already wallowing in the mud. He missed the first two shots, but the third hit its mark, hitting the Jap just above his hip. The soldier sunk into the mud face down, his writhing coming to an end.

“Cease fire!” The Lieutenant repeated as he neared them. “Cease fire, damn it!”

Satisfied with his work, Sledge grabbed his rifle from beside Hamm and turned to descend the ridge. When he noticed (y/n) a few yards away, he froze for a moment, his eyes resembling a dark storm cloud that could start down pouring any second. Guilt seemed to cloud his usual hazel eyes, and he looked away, unable to stay steady beneath her gaze after what he’d just done. He then continued down the ridge.

Mac was quick to confront him, gripping his carbine in one hand with white knuckles.

“I told you to cease fire. What are you doing?”

The private spun to face Mac with gritted teeth.“Killing Japs,” he seethed, turning to go down the hill again.

Before he could get far, the lieutenant spoke again. “You just gave away our position!”

“I think they’ve got a pretty good idea of where we are,” Gene chuckled bitterly.

Mac pointed toward the dead Japs. “I told you to cease fire. You’re supposed to be observing, and then I see you with a damn sidearm!

“We were all sent here to kill Japs, weren’t we?” Sledge screamed, climbing back up to be nose-to-nose with his lieutenant. “So what the hell difference does it make what weapon we use?”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but flinch at Gene’s sudden outburst. She’d never seen him like this before, and she wondered what made him finally break. What was the straw that broke the camel’s back? What had happened in the five minutes she was gone?

A tear streaked down her cheek seeing the man she cared about more than anything giving in to the war. Seeing a man be reduced to a shell of who he once was was always heartbreaking, and (y/n) didn’t realize just how much until she witnessed him finally crack.

“I’d use my damn hands if I had to,” he whispered to a frozen Mac, who clenched his jaw and slowly walked past him. (Y/n) was quick to try and follow Gene once he stormed down the hill, but a gentle hand on her shoulder held her back.

It was Burgin, his face scrunched with concern. “Let ‘em cool off, (y/n/n).”

“Romus, he-”

“I know what he means to you,” he interrupted in a whisper as he glanced around them for any eavesdroppers. “But trust me. You need to leave him be for a little bit. Let him think.”

(Y/n) swallowed thickly. “Please don’t tell anyone, Burgie. I could be-”

“Your secret’s safe with me…He needs you, (y/l/n), but give him a few hours.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, her gaze dropped to the ground. “He was fine when I left. What happened?”

“I don’t know. But we did hear him hollering about something right before he went up top.”

“Thanks for everything, Burg,” she sighed, patting his shoulder softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and the guys.”

A sheepish smile grew on his face, and he chuckled under his breath. “You’d be a lot more ladylike, that’s for sure. The other day, I’m pretty sure I saw you smoking Sledge’s pipe.”

“Whatever,” she groaned, rubbing a hand down her dirty face. “A lot of women actually smoke, ya know?”

The rest of the afternoon did not go according to (y/n)‘s plan, and she was unable to check on Gene after he cooled down. Within an hour of his outburst, she was called back to the field hospital to assist in an all-hands-on-deck emergency following a Jap ambush. The corpsman was up to her elbows in blood, bowels, and every other bodily fluid from vomit to urine. It was a hard night, and it got even worse when a terrible rainstorm moved in, trapping her from returning to her company due to poor visibility.

(Y/n) spent the night, and most of the next day, helping around the hospital. She dressed wounds, administered pain meds, and helped transport men to the hospital ships on a Jeep. A radio call was received that told of the 1st Marine’s plans to take the ridge, and (y/n) knew she needed to be there.

She caught a ride to the ridge just in time for the assault. The men were checking their weapons and quietly conversing with each other as she walked through the various companies. When she reached her squad, however, silence filled the air. They all had thousand-yard stares, and the group was missing two guys who had been there the day before. Her pace slowed as she approached them.

“Hey, guys,” (y/n) said softly, her eyes flicking from man to man. When none of them acknowledged her, she knew something bad had happened. “Where’s Hamm and Peck?”

Silence.

She took a deep breath, trying not to imagine the worst. “Please, guys, whe-”

“Gone,” Gene interrupted harshly, his gaze snapping to hers. “Hamm's dead and Peck’s gone. He cracked.”

(Y/n) felt the all-too-familiar punch of grief knock the air from her lungs. Eugene’s hazel eyes were dark and stormy, even more so than the previous day. She swallowed thickly, attempting to push down the emotion that clogged her throat.

“What happened?” she asked shakily, her eyes never leaving Gene’s.

Before he could respond, Snafu spoke. “Doesn’t matter. They’re gone.”

“Shelton’s right,” Burgin added. “It’s hard, but we’ve got other things to focus on.”

(Y/n) nodded once and dropped her gaze to the group, blinking away the tears that burned her eyes. Two more of their group were gone. Sure, Peck wasn’t her favorite person by any means, but he was still part of their company….on their side. And Hamm…he was a kid. A kid who deserved better than to die in the mud on some foreign island.

They all deserved better.

“Let’s move out!” Mac announced, waving for them to follow.

Each man followed suit, but Eugene hung back to wait on (y/n). Seeing her tear-filled eyes, he instantly regretted opening his mouth. The anger within him seemed to dissipate momentarily as he joined her side.

“Remember, you’ve got a bullseye on your arm,” he murmured, gesturing to the red and white medic brassard on her arm. “Please be careful.”

“I will.” (Y/n) lifted her helmet to look up at him through her lashes. “You take care of yourself, too, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, admiring her features. His eyes trailed from her eyes down to her nose, and then to her lips before flicking back to her (y/e/c) eyes. They stayed locked in each other’s gaze for a few moments, their eyes seeming to have a silent conversation communicating everything that was left unsaid. Gene slowly reached up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. The racing of (y/n)‘s heart wasn’t from the artillery that had begun hammering the ridge, but Eugene’s warm caress against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch.

They both wished the moment could last forever.

Another yell from Mac shattered the moment, leaving (y/n) missing the tenderness of his hand in its absence.

“I’ll find you after,” he said, turning around and backpedaling to catch up with his squad. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

The corner of her lips quirked into a smirk. “I’ll leave that to you.”

Once the battle had died down and all the remaining Japanese were either killed or taken prisoner, (y/n) went searching for Gene. When the bullets began to fly, she couldn’t get the boy from Mobile off her mind, and anxiety churned in her stomach as she looked for him. The stench of gasoline, blood, and burnt flesh filled the air along her ascent to the ridge. Bodies of both marines and the enemy lined the narrow path up the hill, and her eyes scanned each one, praying that none of them were the men she’d come to love dearly.

“Burgie, you seen Sledgehammer? He was just over here.”

Hearing the familiar Cajun accent, she spun toward the voice and sighed in relief when she saw Snafu atop an old bunker, his legs swinging as he sat on the edge with a cigarette hanging from his lip. Romus was talking to another sergeant a few feet away, his rifle swung around his shoulder.

“There you are!” (Y/n) called out, reaching up and slapping Snafu’s foot. It was all she could reach from his elevated position on the concrete bunker. “You alright?”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow, blowing a puff of smoke into the humid air. “Not a scratch on me,” he mused. “I don’t know where Eugene is, but don’t worry, I just saw him. He’s okay, too.”

With this news, a wave of calm washed over her, and she let out the breath she’d been holding since they parted. “Thanks, Snaf. I’ll find him.”

“Have fun,” he laughed, waving his cigarette around in front of him. “And do me a favor and fuc-”

This caught Burgie's attention. “Hey!” He interrupted, scolding Snafu like he was a parent whose child was acting up in public. “Cut it out.”

Busting out laughing, Snafu winked at (y/n), who could feel the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks at his intended comment. She raised a hand and flipped him off with a grin before continuing her search for Gene.

It took her a few minutes of wandering to spot his familiar frame among the sea of dirty green uniforms, but when she did, a huge smile painted her face. (Y/n) almost called out to him, but something stopped her.

He was sitting alone on the busted remains of a bunker with his helmeted head in his hands, his weapon lying idle in the dirt beside him. She continued toward him slowly, observing the gentle shake of his shoulders that told her he was crying.

“Hey, Gene,” (y/n) murmured with a softness that matched the gravity of the moment, lowering herself onto the earth beside him. He reacted quickly, averting his gaze and hiding his face as he wiped the tears from his dirt-covered cheeks.

Reaching over, she softly turned his face toward her. After a moment of resistance, he gave in to her gentle touch. His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, met hers. (Y/n)‘s fingertips traced the dirt-streaked paths on his cheeks, her touch a soothing escape from the horror they lived in.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, ducking to meet his eyes. “I’m here.”

Gene’s lip began to quiver, and a stifled sob escaped him as he covered his face with trembling hands. “I’m a monster, (y/n). The things I’ve done…” he strained, moving away from her comforting touch.

(Y/n) watched the play of emotions on his face as he stood up abruptly, throwing an arm out to point to a bombed-out building. The skeletal remains of what once was a home loomed in the smoky haze. “There was a family in there. Now a baby with grow up without a family! I called in the mortars up there! I did that! I’m a monster!”

“No,” she shot up, her voice cutting him off. “You are not a monster, Eugene Sledge. We are at war. We’ve all done terrible things here, but it does not make you a monster. The fact that you’re feeling like you are proves you’re not. It means you’re human, Gene.”

Another tear streaked down his cheek as he clenched his teeth. “After Bill and everyone we’ve lost, I wanted to get them back. I wanted to. You saw me yesterday!”

“Eugene! Look at me!” she ordered, cupping his cheeks as she implored his attention. His gaze wandered everywhere but her face until she spoke again, her tone much softer this time. “Hon, please look at me.”

Tear-filled hazel eyes met hers, and she tugged him a little closer, they’re faces only inches apart. “We all want to get them back. You are not a monster.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” he croaked, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “What if this is who I am now?”

“I know exactly who you are. You are Eugene Bondurant Sledge. You’re still that same boy from Mobile, Alabama who loved his dog more than anything, the same one who loved to fish with his father, and the very same one who I fell in love with before we even stepped foot on foreign soil.”

A sob escaped his lips, and his eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed by her words. “There’s no way you can love me like this. You deserve someone else who-”

“I don’t love anyone else, Gene!” she urged, tears stinging her eyes. “I love you, and I’ll say it over and over, every single day, for as long as it takes to make you believe me.”

Shaking his head, he tried to break free from her touch, but she held on. “I’m not a good man.”

“You are good, Eugene. You are a good man. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but it’s how we respond to them that makes us who we are. This right here? It proves you’re a good man.”

Her words seemed to break through in his mind, and he froze for a moment. Pulling off his helmet, he moved (y/n)‘s hands from his face and cupped her cheeks, his red eyes still glossy. “I love you,” he murmured, voice wavering. “And I will spend the rest of my life working to be worthy of you if you’ll let me.”

The tears (y/n) had been holding back filled her eyes, a few of them trickling from her waterline. She nodded in his gentle hold. “You already are.”

He wiped a few tears away softly, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. “You’re too good for this world, darlin’,” Gene cooed. “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

With utmost care, Gene reached up and removed (y/n)‘s helmet, her tousled (y/h/c) spilling out. The fading sun added a soft glow to their faces, emphasizing the exhaustion etched in their features. As he delicately held the helmet aside, Eugene’s eyes met (y/n)‘s, a silent understanding passing between them. He closed the gap, his breath mixing with hers as his eyes lingered on her face, taking in every detail-the mud smudges, the fatigue-as if memorizing each nuance.

With a gentle touch, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was a tender blend of longing and comfort, a quiet promise to stay by the other’s side. In that moment, the world around them ceased to exist. Time slowed as they embraced, finding solace in the simple act of being together at last. The sounds of war faded into the background, replaced by the gentle symphony of two hearts seeking refuge in the warmth of each other’s touch.

[waiting-on-mars]

and what if we shared a tender kiss in the trenches?

and what if we held each other in the cold seeping mud?

and what if we rested our foreheads against each other's

to share the same skin

to share the same breath

[malarkgirlypop]

Lemonade Chapter 2 (Eugene Sledge x Fem!OC)

I forgot about this story TBH, I got stuck, I think I need to re-watch the pacific again to get my brain going again. Also the other chapter I posted didn't get much interaction so I thought I would put it on hold cause I didn't think anyone would notice ahaha.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @xxluckystrike, @panzershrike-pretz (sorry if you didn't want to be tagged in this, let me know if you want off.)

“Something sweet?” I asked, holding out another cup. The men who passed us looked terrible. Gaunt, dirty and detached. The other nurses around me spoke to the men, welcoming them back from their mission. Most of them men smiled back, some even flirted. I tried my best not to cringe at their emaciated bodies, or injuries. My heart hurt, I had no clue what these men had seen but judging from their faces they would never forget. Our bright white uniforms looked pristine to the grime covered marines, we seemed out of place. Sticking out like sore thumbs. But the General decided it would be a good pick-me-up for the soldiers returning from their awful battles. 

“Hi, welcome back.” I said warmly to the marine who had stopped in front of me, handing him a drink. The man stood still, not moving to take the cup from my hand. I smiled trying to think of what else to say, “It’s good to see you.” Still the man stood staring directly into my eyes, glaring. My smile dropped, as I gulped. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. The marine who had been in charge of the stand told the man to move on, even then he didn’t flinch. 

“Why are you here?” He requested. The other nurses around me had stilled. We had been told to be weary, that the men that we knew before they were shipped away were not the same. Some had become more violent, easily provoked. Like they were wild bulls and we had to be careful not to spook them. They were unpredictable.   

“I’m here to serve my country.” I replied to the man, “Same as you.” His intense stare pinned me to the ground. He scoffed, taking the cup from my hand and tipping it back, then throwing it to the floor. He marched away not looking back. I let the breath I had been holding out, Ellie nudging me to get back to work. I plastered another bright smile to my face and continued to hand out drinks to the men. But for the rest of the day the man's eyes were burned into the back of my mind.

“That guy was scary.” Mary said to me as we packed up the stand we had been serving the drinks at. 

“Mary, don't say that! You don’t know what he has been through.” I scolded her, feeling bad that in the moment I was also scared. 

“Girl’s stop chit-chatting and let's go, we have things we need to do.” Ellie said as she folded the table cloth we were using. I picked up the table, folding the legs back underneath to make it easier for me to carry. 

“Hazel that table goes in the far storage tent, once you are done come meet us in the mess for dinner.” Ellie said as the rest of the nurses gathered the equipment we were using to take it back to the kitchen. I gave a sharp nod heading in the opposite direction to everyone else. I made my way through the camp, saying polite hellos to the men I passed. Some of them offered to help me carry the table to which I refused, “No it’s ok I got it.” I smiled at the marine who looked concerned, “Are you sure, isn’t that heavy?” He asked, looking at the table I held to my side. 

“Really it’s fine!” I said moving forward, the table was getting more heavy the amount of times I had to stop, they were making my trip take longer. I moved faster through the camp, stopping a couple of times to readjust my grip. Finally making it to the storage tent, I placed the table down where there was space, not caring much if that was its actual position. I shook out my tired arms. Wiggling my fingers to get the blood moving again. I wiped my brow with the back of my arm, “God it’s hot.” I muttered, fanning myself with my hands. I don’t think I have been this hot in my life, the weather here is so humid it’s like walking into a sauna. It almost feels like you’re being suffocated by the heat, it’s so thick. I finally convinced myself to walk back into the hot sun. I make my way to the mess. I can see now why all of the men barely wear any clothes. All of their uniform sleeves have been torn off to be short, some of the men walk around without any tops on. I wish I could do that, these dresses that they have us in are tight and thick. They are also white which is so impractical when we are dealing with all bodily fluids and they want us to keep them clean. Plus the amount I am sweating and the dirt and grime on my skin from having minimal access to showers really doesn’t help. I arrive at the mess to sit down with the girls before we have to move on to help in the infirmary. I push around the food on my plate, the heat for some reason doesn’t make me hungry and the thought of having a full stomach in this swelter makes me feel uncomfortable. 

“What? Are you not hungry?” Mary asks from beside me as she loads her fork with food. I shake my head pushing my tray towards her. She shakes her head.

“No, I'm about full myself.” She says also pushing her plate away. We sit and chat waiting for the rest of the girls to be done. We have to eat early so that the marines can come in and have dinner altogether and while they are doing that we help out in the infirmary.

I walk down the sandy path to the tent that has the injured and sick men. Mary walks beside me rubbing her stomach with a pained expression on her face. 

“Are you alright?” I ask her. Peering over at her, she looks pale and sweaty. 

“No, I think I ate too much.” She groans, looking ill. I pull her to the side of the path and let the nurses who follow behind us pass. I rest the back of my hand on her forehead, she’s sticky and hot. She’s a lot warmer than me though as I test my forehead heat against hers. A sheen of sweat covers her face, her appearance is pallor. 

“Girls hurry up!” Ellie calls from ahead of us. 

“Do you want me to take you back to your tent?” I queried as Mary took a deep breath shaking her head. “Are you sure? You don’t look well?” I asked again to be certain. 

“I’ll be fine, I just need to get out of this heat.” Mary replied weakly. I took her arm and dragged her along to catch up with the group. We stopped outside the tent, as Ellie went inside to speak to the doctor. 

“They are ready for us, Dr. Alpin will tell you what he needs you to do.” We followed Ellie inside the tent after she had given us the brief. The pungent smell of infection filled the warm air inside the tent. I did my best to breathe through my mouth, trying not to inhale through my nose so the smell wasn’t as strong. I heard Mary retch beside me. Ellie was quick to turn around at the noise. Mary had tried to straighten herself, but she couldn’t hold her gagging. 

“Hazel sort her out, we don’t need her puking on the men.” Ellie scolded, flicking her hand in our direction to shoo us away. I took Mary by her elbow leading her out of the tent. Only making it a couple of steps before she was hunched over and puking onto the ground. I rubbed small circles on her back as she got the remaining food out of her stomach. We made it back to the tent as I let her rest on the cot, I gave her water, and a wet towel to place on her head. 

“You rest up, drink water. I’ll be back soon.” I promised her and she weakly shook her head, her eyes still closed. I dipped out of the tent and went back to the infirmary. 

“Hazel how is she?” Ellie asked as I stood beside her. 

“She’s fine I gave her water, I’m sure she just needs to be out of the heat. She may have heat exhaustion. I will keep an eye on her tonight.” I reported back to the more senior nurse who gave a curt nod at my explanation. 

I was given the task of wound cleaning. I went around to the men who had big open skin lesions. They looked miserable as I washed their wounds with water and covered them the best I could with the little supplies I was given. I did my best at small talk while still focussing on the task at hand. It’s hard work but I like it, getting to help people is my calling apparently.  

After a long evening the girls meander back to their tents ready to get some rest after the big day. I check on Mary who snores softly in her cot, I rewet the cloth and place it back on her forehead. I slump down on my own bed, my heavy lids struggling to stay open. 

My eyes flutter open to the sound of chatter and movement. I yawn and stretch out my limbs. Getting into my uniform for the day. I nudge Mary awake. 

“How do you feel?” I ask her as she sits up looking dazed. 

“I had the weirdest dream, but other than that I feel better.” She smiles getting up and pulling on her clothes. I take my toothbrush outside to clean my teeth outside the tent. I sit on a fallen tree and brush my teeth, Mary joins me. 

“Hazel!” I heard being yelled across the camp. I look around to see who called my name. Ellie strides into view. I groan internally, I like Ellie. She is fair, but she likes me too. That means when she needs a job done she comes to me, she trusts I can get it done. 

“Yes?” I ask shielding my eyes from the bright sun to see her. 

“Can you grab the table again from the storage tent?” Ellie requested. I nodded my head standing from my position to put my toothbrush away before doing the task. 

I head down to the tent making my way quickly. I look down at the floor to ensure I don’t trip and also so I don’t get stopped to talk to by the passing marines. 

“Nurse! Nurse!” I hear being yelled, I lift my head to where the voice came from. A young man stands outside of his tent. He beckons me over with his hand. 

“Yes?” I say to the man. He is taller than me, dark thick curly hair and wide blue eyes. He grins at me as I approach. 

“Can you help me?” He asks in a thick southern accent. I look into the tent behind. I see the figure of another man inside. He moves inside the tent before I can answer him, he holds the flap open for me to follow. 

“I’m not supposed to go inside your tent, Sir.” I admitted. He only grins wider. 

“Oh we don’t bite, Miss.” He teases. I sigh, following him into the tent. I can make this quick, then no one will need to know. I can get the table and arrive back like nothing happened. 

“Now tell me, what is your name?” He inquires. I give him a confused look, wasn’t this an urgent request or did he only do this to bring me into the tent. I stiffen my stance. 

“Hazel Evans, Sir.” I replied politely. He chuckles at me. I shift wearily under his gaze. 

“I’m Snafu, but enough with the pleasantries. I need your help.” He changes the conversation, becoming more serious. 

“How can I help you?” I ask, scanning his body he has no apparent injuries or wounds. 

“Do my eyes look yellow?” He asks moving closer, widening his eyes for me to see. He leans forward, his breath tickling my face. I stare into his large eyes, his sclera appearing normal in colour. I raise my hand pulling down his lower lid to see the interior. The skin appears pink with healthy blood vessels. 

“They look fine Snafu, nothing to be worried about.” I smile at the man reassuringly patting him on his shoulder. 

“I told him that!” A voice comes from behind me, I turn to look at who spoke. My eyes go wide when they land on the tall man. His brown eyes locked onto mine, just like they did at the lemonade stand. I instinctively take a step back stunned. Snafu’s hands rest on my shoulders from behind me. He chuckles lowly hovering by my head. 

“Did Sledge frighten you?” He asks, looking from me to Sledge. I sober myself, shaking my head. I step out of Snafu’s space, my heart rate still beating fast. A tightness grows in my chest as Sledge continues to stare at me with the same angry eyes. His jaw tight, posture ridgid. I slip back on a smile. 

“No, I just didn’t hear him behind me.” I lie. “Hi, my name is Hazel.” I say extending my hand to Sledge. He glances down at my hand and then back up to me. 

“I heard.” He says shortly, not taking my extended hand. I clear my throat dropping my arm back to my side. I give a sheepish grin as my stomach knots. I need to find an excuse to leave. This Sledge guy doesn’t seem to like me very much. If looks could kill, I would've been dead yesterday and today. I gulp, finding it hard to tear my eyes away from him. My eyes scan over his face taking him in. His soft white skin now marred with dirt and cuts, his angled jaw set with anger, his brows knitted together as he stares back at me. I wonder what he sees? I don’t have any makeup on, my thick brown hair is pulled back off my face into a neat bun as the nurses cap I wear is pinned to my head. My white uniform stands out against their dirty pants and topless torsos. I break eye contact first, turning to speak to Snafu who still stands behind me. 

“I have to go, but if you need anything you can always go to the medical tent.” I smile making my way for the exit. 

“Why would I go to the medical tent, when I know you Hazel.” He gives me a cheeky smile, as I give him a laugh, “I’ll come find you.” He winks at me. I turn to leave my eyes catching Sledge’s again, he still stares at me with caution.

[imaginesbymk]

— THE PACIFIC PREFERENCE

WHEN THEY FIND OUT YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON THEM

Characters: Eugene Sledge, Snafu Shelton, Bob Leckie, Sidney Phillips, Hoosier Smith, Hillbilly Jones + Captain “Ack-Ack” Haldane

Tags: —

A/N: *sighs* men. let me know if you guys want a part 2 with other characters from the pacific (e.g. john basilone, burgin, jay de l’eau, bill leyden, runner, chuckler etc)!!! pls enjoy and leave a like/reblog/feedback <33 ^.^ // [ko-fi] [commissions] / this was inspired by my love @littlemissvincentvega​ from this post <3

EUGENE SLEDGE “SLEDGEHAMMER” —

He’s flustered, but he doesn’t do anything about it. Eugene’s frail and bookish, so he’s too shy to pursue you. 

Whenever you walk past him, he has to get a good look of you, maybe just a crumb of your face, before keeping his head down.

Sid would tease him and never let it go.

“Give me a break, you ol’ greaser—”

“Hey, I’m just sayin’. The missus needs a friend!”

and Snafu would just make remarks about you, much to Eugene’s annoyance and a sense of motivation to make a move before someone else does. 

Eugene is confident that he would get to ask you out some day, because he was raised to be kind and a gentleman. Time will tell.

MERRIELL ���SNAFU” SHELTON —

Learning about your crush on him boosts his ego and is way too cocky about it.

“What did I tell ya? Getting to the likes of Y/N is like discovering a goldmine. I’m gonna reel them in.”

Snafu obviously bothers you during the day by flirting with you, trying to get your attention because he likes getting attention.

He doesn’t leave pleasant remarks at first, but he goes straight down to business. 

“So, doll. Dinner? Movie? Picnic under the stars? How ‘bout I take you to the back of the train and you can show me your caboose? ;)”

Snafu will eventually learn to be more respectful. But at least he’s polite when he tries to talk and hang out with you more.

ROBERT “BOB” LECKIE —

This man is charming. He managed to win over Stella’s family over dinner, so he could do the same with you.

He won’t stop thinking about you. But he’ll get a bit insecure and overthink about other irrelevant things. 

“I wonder what you don’t like about me?”

His friends from How Company make fun of him, reading out loud the letters you wrote to him. 

He shows up to your house unexpectedly, all fresh and clean, in uniform, and he asks you out for dinner. 

Deep down, he’s nervous af - he’s overthinking if it doesn’t work out if you two ever start dating.

When he takes you out you can tell he’s a nervous wreck and he doesn’t know where else to go from there, but you assure him he’s doing fine.

SIDNEY “SID” PHILLIPS —

Sid is already getting along with you, so nothing really changes when he finds out you have a crush on him. If anything, it brings the two of you closer.

He likes to talk to you about anything, and he’ll eventually bring up taking you out for dinner or a picnic under the stars. 

Sid will tell you all about Eugene, life in Mobile, baseball, the rotting coconuts in Pavuvu, anything to keep you around. 

“Here, y/n. How about I drop you home? I can squeeze you in on my bike!”

He’s surprised that he’s not as nervous when you two become more than friends.

Sid realizes he’s falling for you hard and it’s gonna kill him once he’s sent off to fight again.

BILL “HOOSIER” SMITH —

This cocky little shit

When Hoosier confronts you about it, he has a big smirk on his face.

“A lil’ bird told me you got your eyes on me.” (The lil’ bird in question was Chuckler.......)

He wastes NO time asking you out. And of course, you accept. 

If you smoke, he offers you a cigarette from his pack. 

Hoosier is a goofball and he never fails to make you laugh when you two are bonding together. 

He’ll stuff cigarettes up his nostrils and once he finally takes you out, let’s say at a fancy restaurant, he’ll stuff the chopsticks up his nostrils. Anything to hear that laugh of yours.

1ST LT. EDDIE “HILLBILLY” JONES —

He’s flattered, all right.

Even from the dungarees and dirt, he’s known for having a clean, fresh and handsome appearance, according to Sledge’s book. 

Hillbilly’s a gentleman. If he were to take you out sometime, he’d make you feel like there’s no other person in his life but you.

Ack-Ack pushes him to make a move. He assures him that it wouldn’t hurt to leave some room for a little bit of bonding. 

“I know I’m serious when I need to be serious, but I’m a helpless disciple saved by Christ when I found out about you.”

So of course, he’s gonna come in with his guitar and play you a song to win you over.

CAPTAIN ANDREW “ACK-ACK” HALDANE —

Of course, of all people, you develop feelings for the skipper. 

Since he’s a good leader who pulls everyone together during the war, you could understand why you like him. He’s also a very sweet guy.

The thing is, he already knows. You’re too shy to even confess your feelings to him in person or in letters, anonymously or not. In fact, no one even told the skipper about it and nobody needed to. He just knows. A good captain is always observant.

You two are alone for a moment, and his casual, calm and friendly tone manages to help you feel more comfortable and less nervous.

He gives you one of the blankets his dad made for everyone. He wraps it around you at night when you’re feeling cold or afraid.

[historyl3sbian]

THERE IS NOOOOOO WAY JOE MAZZELLO IS FORTYYYYYYY FUCKING YEARS OLDDDDD

ugh i need him even MORE

[mackerly-monspop]

Modern Sledgefu or Sledgefu but make it sad, a lot of Sledgefu's fanfiction actually... give this playlist a chance to draw or write about these two <3

[jump-wings]

HBOWarDaily's Short Story Exchange 2023

Show: The Pacific

Ship: Eugene Sledge x Snafu Merriell Shelton

General Reader

For @ahsokatanoss I hope you like it!

An Evening

They crossed the corridor, Eugene in front, Merriell behind. When they reached the door, Eugene moved aside and allowed Merriell to enter his room first. He closed the door behind them. The door made no more noise than the beating of Merriell's heart. Eugene leaned back against the door, hands in his pockets. He was watching Meriell with his eyes. Merriell walked around the room a bit. He picked up a few items on the shelf and looked at them, but he neither saw what he picked up nor was he interested in the decor of the room, just a few pathetic attempts to postpone the inevitable conversation. But somehow someone had to say something, and he knew it had to be him.

''You have a nice room, Sledgehammer.'' His voice came out lower, higher-pitched, and more strained than what he had planned to say in his head. The words almost reached his lips like tiny daggers, creating wounds in his throat. Eugene caught Merriell's eyes on his own and wouldn't let go. He said thank you and waited. He would push Meriell to the end. Merriell looked away. He waited for a few seconds in the middle of the room, looking helplessly at the carpet.

''The food was very nice.'' Again a thank you came from Eugene and he waited again. His eyes are fixed on Merriell. Merriell waited too, the bitter water rising from his stomach to his throat. He finally made up his mind, he could postpone while he ate and chatted with Eugene's family, he could postpone while Eugene's father showed him their land, he could postpone while he listened to his brother reminisce about the war in Europe, but here he was in Eugene's room in Alabama, the two of them alone and he found himself in a kind of trial in Eugene's eyes. He couldn't put it off any longer, feeling like prisoner b5rought tıo court. He had nowhere to run and no excuse to escape. He lifted his eyes from the carpet and stared into the big brown eyes watching him.

''Eugene, I…''

''Why did you come?'' Eugene's voice was angry.

''To see you.'' He looked away, his voice a whisper.

Why? Why did you come to see the man you've seen too much to even say goodbye to? Suddenly, months later?

The anger in Eugene's voice grew with each word, but the anger in his voice couldn't hide the underlying pain. Eugene's pain reached Merriell. Snafu's heart ached again, with pain at the same frequency as Eugene's, a pain that had not stopped since the moment he got off the train.

Eugene rose from where he was leaning and stood upright. He clenched his hands into fists and pressed his nails into his palms.

Ever since they returned - one to Alabama, the other to Louisiana - from the endless forests of the Pacific, its hills, its rains, its muddy soil, and its endless islands that had turned into graveyards Merriell, who had always been overconfident, had been struggling with indecision. Eugene, who had a calm nature since his early youth, was angry. Everything they knew about life was rewritten in the Pacific.

He just couldn't return. He couldn't turn around and couldn't even say goodbye. He couldn't shake his hand and look into his eyes for the last time. He wanted to, but he was undecided and could not do it. His heart couldn't stand it. This was too much. He was asked to realize a reality that had never been more real until the train entered the station. Suddenly, he is asked to leave behind the last years of his life, the person was created from him in the war, the skills he was taught to fight, the brutality, the death, the blood, and the only person he has ever learned to trust and love - Eugene - and return to a life like nothing ever happened, many times he doubted its existence when he was in the muds of Okinawa. Which one was the dream? Louisiana or Okinawa? Which one was the reality?

If he had turned back and said goodbye to Eugene as he got off the train in Louisiana, he would have lost everything. He would lose those times, the times their existence was disgusting but still too valuable to lose, but most importantly, he would lose Eugene forever, his memory.

He was undecided until the last moment. While choosing what to wear - casual clothes, a suit, or even he thought about his marine uniform uniform -, while he was taking his best suit to his sister because he couldn't iron it himself, while taking leave from work, while buying the ticket for the train to Alabama, while waiting for the train to arrive at the station, while getting on the train, while sitting in his seat, while finding Eugene's house, while walking down the road to Eugene's house, while knocking on the door of Eugene's house, and yet he had come this far. Now he was standing in the middle of Eugene's room, looking into his eyes contains anger and pain.

When Eugene got off the train months ago, he didn't think anything, he didn't feel anything. In the months that followed, anger came to visit him. Why didn't he shake him by the shoulder and wake him up? Why hadn't he just woken him and said a goodbye? All this time, they had lived as if they had never met, they have never knew each other? After everything they've been through together in this world, who could understand them better than each other?Why didn't he even wake him up and say goodbye, didn't he even love him that much?

I wish I were like the men who wrote those thick books he saw in Eugene's hands, Merriell thought. Maybe I could explain it then. Snafu had made up his mind. In one breath, he said all the words that suddenly appeared in his mind.

''I couldn't say anything to you that day because I, because you… I can't say goodbye to you. I can't say goodbye to you because if I did, you would leave and I didn't want you to go. I didn't want anything to go away we lived together. I didn't know how to do it.''

Eugene listend him. Now he had figured out how to calm down. He smiled faintly, gently. He looked into the emerald green eyes of the man he loved. His eyes wandered over the dark curly hair falling on his forehead. Almost he had never seen him so helpless before.

''If you had woken me up, we would have found a way together. Don't run away from me, Snafu.''

''Never again. I am not going anywhere.''

[saint-petah-the-good]

Im in a poly relationship with Snafu and Sledge on character.ai