I read a lot of scripts. A lot. From professionals to aspiring writers to complete newbies. Features and pilots. Specs and treatments.
And 8 times out of 10 the fan fic that I’ve read over the last, oh, 15 years is leagues better than this stuff. It’s more inspired. It’s more compelling. It’s genre bending and creative and heartfelt. It’s well-paced and intense and funny and sexy and meaningful. It’s smart and thoughtful and good. It’s novel-quality. Better than, sometimes.
Rare is the script I don’t want to put down, but how often have we stayed up until 3am to get to the last chapter of a 100k fic? And it’s not even a fan fic author’s day job. This is what they do on the side. In their spare time. For free.
So my point is, fan fic authors, you’re good. You’re good writers and great storytellers. I know it doesn’t always feel like it, especially if you’re one of the authors who’s not a BNF and doesn’t get the notes/hits that a few do. And because some people still view fic as “not real writing.” You guys know the shit that gets made into movies. You’re better than that. So be better than that. If writing is what you think want to do, then just know you’re already doing it. You’ve already started.
Summary: against all odds, peter was drafted into the vietnam war and no one was happy about it. life threw them a curve no one was prepared for, but if everything happens for a reason then everything works out in the end, right?
alternate real-world universe, a reimagine of how things could have gone
teen rating, gentle content, but with some mild cursing as the most explicit content
tw // mentions of war
Word Count: 2.6K
Author’s Note: this might actually suck because of how many POVs i tried to write from, but hopefully it tells a coherent plot line from beginning to end.
Read on ao3
~*~*~
It hadn’t worked; Peter had been drafted into the war. No one was happy about it, Peter especially - and Davy too. Davy didn’t know if Peter would ever be coming home, he didn’t know if he’d ever see the love of his life again. There was too much at stake.
“Babe, I tried, I really did,” Peter whispered softly, his jaw resting on Davy’s shoulder.
“Try harder, come up with something, lie to them, I don’t care! Just make it so you don’t have to go!” Davy whisper yelled into what felt like the oblivion.
“I already played my hand, to their faces I told them I was a gay man in America. But, they wrote it off and acted like they didn't hear me. Don't ask, don't tell, they didn't ask so they acted like I didn't tell,” Peter mumbled, working hard to keep his voice from breaking.
It was too much, it was too much too quickly and there was nothing either of them could do - Peter was going.
~*~*~
It had been a whirlwind situation no one had been prepared for. Sure, everyone knew the draft was a thing, sure, everyone knew that Micky and Peter were just as likely to be pulled as anyone else, but at the same time no one expected them to actually go, especially not Peter Tork. He was the loudest of the gang about how much he hated even the idea of war, and except for that one singular time he and Davy had gotten into a fight on set, for all of his adult life he had avoided all kinds of conflict as best he could.
Now, here he was, bags packed and at the airport, unable to give Davy the goodbye he oh so wanted to but knowing their love last night would have to hold them over until the next time.
Mike and Micky had come too, offering moral support at a time when all of them were emotionally lost and confused by the chain of events.
"Catch you on the flip," Peter offered with a half smile, picking up his bag.
"Be back soon, we have a world tour to go on, Pete," Mike tried, his own half smile peeking out as he tried to keep it positive.
"Keep my bass in tune will ya? I'll be aching to play when I return, love you boys," Peter half joked, throwing a subtle wink to Davy before walking onto his plane, all four of them trying not to think about how this could be their last interaction ever again.
~*~*~
“I miss him,” Davy mumbled softly to Micky, their knees bumping slightly as they leaned over the table.
“I know, and I'm sorry. I wish it would have worked, we all know the war is no place for Peter,” Micky said softly, his voice calm as he tried to wrap his head around it.
Peter had been gone for six months and eleven days as Davy told him at the beginning of their conversation. At least the letters were still coming in the mail - it meant he was alive. Alive, but at what cost? The war was no place for a boy like Peter and there was nothing Davy, an Englishman, could do about it.
“Hey, let's go to the cinema and just not think for an hour?” Micky offered, laying enough cash down on the table to cover for lunch before guiding Davy out of the restaurant.
Davy knew more than him, and even then it wasn't much. They just had to hold on to the hope that Peter would return safe and sound.
~*~*~
It was hell. It was hell on earth for Peter to be in Vietnam. It was an unjust war and no matter what they did they were gonna lose - it was inevitable. Yet, here he was, a janitor for the food tent.
Luckily, or even worse for him, his plans that he thought would get him out of the draft just got him a job far away from the other men. He cleaned up after the medical staff at the camp he was stationed at.
Sure, he saw no actual battle, but he heard all the stories the doctors and nurses told as they came in for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even that was more than he could handle.
Eight months done, he didn't know how much longer he’d be kept, but it was hell from the moment they told him he still had to report for duty.
He kept up with letters to his beloved, but at any moment they could be hit with a raid. He lived in constant fear he was going to die alone and far away from home. The fear kept him going, he was going to make it home alive - and in one piece.
~*~*~
“Can you believe, it’s been ten months and Peter's out there still alive?” Mike said softly to Micky.
“I don't know how he's doing it, but he is,” Micky mumbled back, confusion, shock, and awe filling his voice. They’d just gotten a letter from Peter, letting them know he was alive and doing as well as he could be doing as an anti-war man in the middle of the war.
“I don't know how Davy is surviving, he puts on such a brave face to go out since the world didn't know them like we do, but good god that has to be hard on him. I didn't have a girl when I went to the Air Force so it was easier for me and everyone around me, but fuck dude,” Mike grumbled out, shock lacing his own voice as he thought about Peter surviving out there.
“I just hope nothing actually happens to him. He was so anti- all of this..” Micky trailed off, looking out into oblivion as he hoped for the safe return of his bandmate.
~*~*~
The three of them had rehearsed for tour with a stand in bassist, but none of the vibe felt the same. The stand in was a nice guy and all, but he didn’t hold the same energy as Peter, he didn’t hold the same charisma as their beloved band mate and Davy wasn’t able to hold his same energy either.
“Tree over there just isn’t helping us get anywhere…” Micky said to Mike while they were on break, spinning his drumsticks between his hands to channel his energy as he spoke.
“He really isn’t, it’s almost like he’s dragging us down. He has talent, but it isn’t helping Davy at all either,” Mike noted, watching Davy set his tamborine down and walk off the stage.
They all knew he would be back in time for them to pick their instruments back up, but to see him just walk away was heartbreaking. It almost felt like the band was breaking up.
Sure, they didn’t all get along at every moment, Mike and Peter for sure didn’t get along for most moments of the day just because of their personalities, but at the end of the day he didn’t hate his bandmate, they just didn’t see the world the same.
“I hope nothing bad happens to Pete, I know you guys don’t get along but you understand how heavy this is, babe,” Micky said softly, staring at his sticks like they held all the answers.
“I know, I know, we don’t get along, but I love Davy and I know how much we need Peter as a person, this is heavy every way around. I just hope something positive happens soon. It’s been nearly a year, and at least we’re still getting letters but…” He trailed off.
Mike had only gotten one letter from Peter, one short little “hey, hope you and the kids are doing well, I’m alive” kind a letter, but it carried the tone that he really was suffering over there, even though he mentioned he wasn’t in direct battle.
Both Mike and Micky looked up when they heard the door slam shut, indicating that Davy was back. Time for them to get back to rehearsing and hoping for the world to settle itself back the way it belonged.
~*~*~
"What the hell…" Mike asked as he found a letter from Peter in his mail box.
He ripped it open, excited as much as he was surprised to hear from his band mate. Sure, they weren't the best of friends, but this wasn't a fate he would have wished upon his worst enemy.
For you and Mick, a surprise for Davy.
The details were vague but one line stood out:
All three of you, come to the airport for the 6:15pm landing on April 19th.
Now that much he could do.
~*~*~
“Why are we here,” Davy whined softly as they pulled up to the airport, “you know this place brings me nothing but pain.”
“Chill out babe, we wanted to take you to dinner but the best staffed restaurant in town is in the airport,” Micky said, trying to keep his enthusiasm up to its usual amounts.
Mike and Micky had received the same letter, they were hiding the same secret, one of the biggest they’ve had to hold in their lives. Mike even more than Micky since Mike had special instructions in his letter.
“Don’t worry, once we’re in the booth you won’t even notice we’re in an airport, and we’ll have great dinner like great pals,” Mike said with a smile as they all got out of the car, checking his pockets to make sure he’d grabbed everything before he’d walked out.
“Why do you look so nervous, Mike?” Micky asked as he stepped behind Davy for a moment.
“I think my letter was a little different than yours, babe, and I’m just hoping everything goes right,” Mike whispered back before stepping up to walk next to Davy.
Mike effortlessly led the way to the little restaurant, going to the booth Peter had instructed them to go to and started a gentle conversation, letting Davy just talk and talk about anything and everything that wasn’t Peter Tork.
Conversation went easy, all they had to do was get Davy talking about his family back home and he was as good as distracted.
With a quick peek at his watch, Mike saw the time was getting close. Peter’s flight should have landed by now and adding time to pick up any of his belongings, they were in the “he’s gonna show up any moment now” window.
The three of them sat, nibbling at their food as Micky made sure to lead Davy in conversation. Micky was trying his best not to show he was getting excited, but he was such an enthusiastic person it was getting harder and harder by the moment.
C’mon Pete, hurry up, Mike thought, looking around as he patted his pockets one last time before he spotted him.
There he was, tall and skinny as ever, his beard full and thick like he’d had it once before, and his clothes freshly changed into something much more him - including the beads he was known to wear.
“Mike? Mike hello?” Davy asked, waving his hand in front of the Texan, wondering why his question had been ignored.
“Uh, yeah what?” Mike asked back, catching his eyes back to Davy’s.
Before he could ask his question again, Peter had dipped right to the booth, silently sliding in right next to Mike, across the table from Davy.
“So, how much did I miss, fellas?” Peter asked with a jovial grin, half of his face hidden behind the mess of a beard he had going on, but his eyes shining bright as he was reunited with the love of his life and some of his best friends.
“Oh my God…” Davy mumbled, getting up out of the booth to pull Peter up into the tightest hug, “Oh my God, you’re back, you’re alive, you’re back.”
Peter held on tight to Davy, his face falling into the warm chocolate hair he’d missed for almost a year. Davy’s face was tight to Peter’s chest, soaking Peter’s shirt with tears of pure joy.
Peter broke his grip just long enough to stick his hand out towards Mike, knowing the Texan had something for him.
With a sly movement and a gentle break of the hug, Peter began to whisper the words he’d practised the whole flight home.
“David Jones, I love you, and I’m home for good. I’m not going anywhere ever again and you waited this whole time for me to come back, and even though we can’t legally get married, will you take this ring and be mine, be as close to marriage as we can get?” Peter asked, wishing desperately he could make a grand big scene, but knowing that would get them in so much trouble.
Micky and Mike watched the scene in front of them unfold, having been able to see the little gold band Peter held in his hands. Mike knew what was happening, but Micky - Micky was shocked, hands clasped over his mouth as he tried not to make a scene.
Davy babbled, unable to form a coherent sentence in his mind. Not only was Peter back from Vietnam, but presenting him with the closest thing to marriage they can experience. It was overwhelming, too much for him all at once but he knew he had to answer Peter at some point.
“Don’t leave him hanging, babe, tell him yes,” Micky whispered, trying not to scream with his own excitement.
“Yes, Peter, yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” He babbled, wishing they weren’t in public so he could kiss him right then and there.
With a simple movement, Peter put the ring on Davy’s middle finger, deliberately avoiding it looking exactly like a wedding ring as much as he wanted it to be one.
“Mike is this what you were so nervous about? You were carrying that ring for him?” Micky asked with an excited smile, his eyes brighter than the sun as he watched his friends enjoy their moment.
“Yeah, it was part of my letter, he sent me to his house to retrieve the ring just for this, he figured if Davy would be willing to wait for him to come home from the war than Davy would be a lasting forever partner, and it looks like they really have something here,” Mike said softly, his tone genuine.
“Hey guys, maybe could we go back to my place for conversation?” Peter offered with a smile, pulling his wallet out of his pocket, tossing enough cash on the table for all of their lunches.
“Sounds good to me, guys?” Mike answered, offering it to the rest of them as he stood up from the table, nodding to Peter as a thank you for paying for lunch.
“Groovy,” Micky answered while Davy nodded.
~*~*~
They sat in Peter’s living room, a gentle jazz record playing in the background, Micky and Mike comfortable on the couch, while Davy sat on Peter’s lap, all of them sharing stories of what happened over the almost year Peter was gone.
It was almost as if Peter had never left, the atmosphere felt the same, the laughs still held, and their memories still held strong. Sure, they still didn’t have perfect lives as a group, but at the end of the day they had all become brothers, and they were all thankful they had each other through such a whirlwind as big as Peter going to war.
Love was the good times and the bad times, and the worst of times were past them, now it was on to making sure they all got around to being on tour together like the band the world wanted them to be.
i feel like as a fandom we don't talk enough about "im gonna buy me a dog" because that is one of my favourite songs (if you could even call it a song) and it is comedic GOLD
i used to think billionaires were like. slightly richer millionaires but for reference: a million seconds is 12 days, a billion seconds is THIRTY TWO YEARS.
no one can convince me that it’s possible to possess a billion dollars, much less dozens of billions of dollars, and not be a disgusting terrible shitty unethical heartless human being
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