Summary: You hadn't seen Rafael in nearly three years. When he left—and shattered your heart in the process—you didn't think you'd ever recover. But now, just as you finally starting to feel like you might be okay, he waltzes right back into the SVU precinct, into your life, and fucks everything up.
Word count: 5.3k
Warnings: angst with a happy ending, explicit language, canon typical rape mention (off-screen, no details), breakups + makeups, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, praise + dirty talk, mentions of a sex toy
A/N: Rafael Barba my beloved <3 my first SVU fic after being a long time reader! I love this show and I love Barba. Takes place during the episode "Sightless in a Savage Land." (Rafael Barba + a beard = my untimely death.) I was listening to Muscle Memory by Lights when I got the idea for this, so it's very loosely based on that song. Anyways, enjoy, and be prepared for more SVU fics in the future bc I am deep in that rabbit hole hehe.
The last time you ever saw or spoke to Rafael Barba was nearly three years ago, when he decided to leave both the DA’s office and New York City. And, in turn, you.
He asked you to go with him—begged you, really. Told you he loved you and couldn’t see a life without you. After years of casual flirting and simmering tension, you both realized how badly you wanted—no, needed—each other. At that point, you had been together for almost a year and you were completely, head-over-heels in love with him. You wanted to go with him, but you couldn’t leave your job at SVU and your life behind. As much as it hurt, you told him no. An explosive fight ensued and you both said things you’d later come to regret, but in the moment you were both too hurt to care. He stormed out of your apartment and slammed your front door behind him, leaving you a sobbing mess in your living room.
It took time, a whole lot of effort, and a little bit of booze along the way, but now you felt like you were finally in a good place. You were back to cracking jokes with Carisi, going out for girls' nights with Liv and Amanda, and Kat, the SVU newbie, even got you to consider starting to date again. You still missed Rafael, but the hurt had dulled over time, and you found yourself wanting to move on, once and for all.
All of that came crashing down, though, when you walked into work one morning and came face-to-face with Rafael, exiting Olivia’s office. When you saw each other, you couldn’t help the pained gasp that you let out. Hot tears started to well in your eyes at the soft look he gave you. The whole precinct seemed to come to a standstill—Amanda looked at you from her desk, concern etched on her face; Olivia looked a little guilty; Fin looked like he was waiting for a bomb to go off; and Kat’s eyes moved between you and Rafael, her brows drawn together in confusion before she finally realized what was happening.
Rafael breathed your name out in a pained whisper, and that’s all it took to break you out of your reverie. Before he could say anything else, you squared your shoulders and walked straight past him to your desk. You didn’t say a word to anybody as you got to work, focused solely on not letting yourself cry in front of everybody—especially him. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you and it made you want to scream.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Olivia place a hand on Rafael’s shoulder. She said something to him, her voice too quiet for you to know what it was, and he nodded his head solemnly. He looked over at you for a moment before he went to the elevators. Olivia turned to her squad of detectives, who were all still stunned from the quiet scene that just unfolded. With a small sigh, Olivia clapped her hands together, bringing everyone to attention.
“Back to work, everybody. We’ve got lives to save and people to protect.”
Reluctantly, your fellow detectives turned back to their work, but you could still feel their occasional glances your way. As Olivia walked past your desk to her office, she stopped and put a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“Want to come into my office for a minute, detective?”
You followed Olivia into her office, plopping down on her couch as she closed the door. You sighed, running your hands over your face. The tears were still threatening to fall from your eyes, and you did everything you could to will them back inside your tear ducts.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting him to show up like that,” Olivia said, her voice apologetic. You looked at her and offered her a tired smile.
“It’s fine, Liv. I just… Was not prepared to see him again, not like this. Everything just came flooding back and hit me all at once,” you replied. “Why was he even here, anyway?”
Olivia sighed and shook her head. “When I heard he was in town, I asked him to meet up for coffee and may have suggested that he talk with Mickey Davis, just to hear his story and see if there was any way he could help him out. I didn’t think he’d take Mickey on as a client.”
You rolled your eyes at that. Rafael taking Mickey on as a client didn’t surprise you in the slightest. You didn’t blame the guy for killing his teenage daughter’s abuser—you probably would have done the same thing if you were in his position. And if you were in Rafael’s position, you would’ve been lined up to defend Mickey, too. But hearing Olivia say she didn’t expect him to take Mickey on did surprise you—she knew Rafael as well as you did and that he couldn’t just walk away from this once she brought him into it.
You weren’t mad at her, though. Just because you and Rafael had a rough break-up didn’t mean everyone else had to cut him out of their lives. You knew Olivia just wanted to help Mickey the best way she could, and you’d be damned if you didn’t agree that Rafael would be his best shot.
“Well, that makes sense, I guess. Can’t say I’m surprised,” you huffed. “At least I wasn’t on that case. Minimizes my interactions with him.”
Olivia chuckled. “Yeah, I guess there’s that bright side.”
You stood from her couch and gave her a small smile. You could tell she had more apologies in her, knowing how hard it must’ve been for you to see him so out-of-the-blue, but you waved her off before she could start. “Don’t worry about me, Liv. I’ll be fine. And I’m not mad. Honestly, if things were different, I probably would’ve gone to Rafael, too.”
You walked out of Olivia’s office and were relieved to find that everyone had returned to work as normal. Amanda looked up at you and gave you a reassuring smile, letting you know she was there for you if needed anything. Over the years, you and her had become two peas in a pod, and you were grateful to have a friend and a partner in her. You sat down at your desk and got to work going through your case files.
Your desk phone rang and you answered it, “Detective L/N, Manhattan Special Victims Unit.”
And now your work for the day has really begun.
***
You were dead on your feet by the time you got home. You and Amanda had picked up a new case—a rape victim found in Central Park—and spent a majority of the day working on that. Neither of you had gotten very far on it, which wasn’t unusual, but you always felt a little defeated when you went home at the end of the day with little to show.
When you stepped into your apartment, all you wanted was to take a hot shower, order take-out, and crash. After putting all your stuff away, you walked into your kitchen and pulled out the take-out menu for your favorite Chinese place. As you scanned the menu and thought about what you were going to order, there was a knock at your door. You looked up and scrunched your eyebrows together—you weren’t expecting company, and none of your friends were the type to just show up to your place unannounced, especially on a weeknight. With a sigh, you set the menu down on your counter and walked over to your front door. You looked through the peephole and took a surprised step back when you saw who was on the other side.
Rafael.
You stood there for a few moments, staring at your front door, too shocked that he was at your apartment to do anything. He knocked again, this time a little more insistently, and said, “I know you’re inside, Y/N. Please open the door.”
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. When you opened them, you lifted shaky hands to the locks on the door and undid them, slowly pulling it open. Without the hustle and bustle of the police precinct and the surprise of running into him at work, you could stand there and take him in. He looked different—a little bit older, a little bit grayer—but just as handsome as the last time you saw him. There was a pang of sadness in your chest. You were reminded then, standing in your doorway and just staring at each other, how much you still missed him.
“Hi,” he said lamely, breaking the silence. He looked just as nervous as you did, a hesitant smile visible behind his full beard. (You took note of his new feature a little ruefully—you had wanted him to grow out his facial hair, but he always told you, saying beards made him too itchy.) You stood there and stared at him for a second more before replying.
“Hi.”
Before, conversation always flowed so easily between the two of you. You hadn’t realized how much of a chatterbox Rafael was until you started dating, but you found it endearing. You liked hearing him talk about the things he was passionate about. Now, the uncomfortable silence felt so foreign, and it made you fidget.
“I, uh, I don’t know why I came here, to be honest,” Rafael said, clearing his throat. “After seeing you this morning, I just… I don’t know. I wanted to see you again.”
You felt your resolve start to crumble. You’d spent so much time trying to get over him, trying to move on with your life, and just when you felt like you were starting to get somewhere, he shows up out of the blue and wrecks it all. You wanted nothing more than to drag him into your apartment and pretend like the past three years hadn’t happened, that you were back to where you were before you broke each other’s heart.
Rafael must have taken your silence as disinterest rather than being at war with yourself internally. He sighed and shook his head, making to turn around and leave. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just shown up like this. I’m going to go.”
You felt panic rise up in you at the thought of him leaving again and before you could stop yourself, you said, “Wait! Don’t go. Come inside. Please.”
Rafael looked at you, surprise etched on your face. He hadn’t expected you to invite him in so suddenly, but he wasn’t about to let the opportunity to talk to you slip from his fingers. He nodded and stepped into your apartment. You closed the door and slipped the locks back into place before joining Rafael in the living room.
You cleared your throat and gestured to the couch. “You can, uh, sit down, if you want to.”
“Yeah, okay. Sure. Thanks.”
Rafael took a seat at the end of your couch and you moved to sit on the opposite end of it. Now that he was inside of your apartment, you didn’t know what to do, what to say. You hated how awkward and uncomfortable the air surrounding you two felt.
“I’m sorry,” Rafael blurted out after another few minutes of silence. He turned on the couch to face you, his eyes filled with tears and his face pulled into a grimace. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you the way that I did. I shouldn’t have stormed out of here and took off without another word. I was an idiot—such a fucking idiot—and I’m so sorry for hurting you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I fucked it all up.”
You scooted closer to him on the couch, taking one of his trembling hands in yours. The tears you had successfully kept at bay all day had started to fall, and you tried to steady your breathing to avoid breaking out into a full on sob. You looked up at him and broke when you saw his tears falling, too.
“Rafael,” your voice broke and you could barely get another word out. Looking back on the fight that ended your relationship, you knew you were both to blame for it. You were both cruel to each other, saying things you didn’t mean but knew would cut the other deeply. You called him selfish and accused him of not truly loving you if he expected you to give up your career just because he gave up his. He said the only thing you were capable of loving was your job and that you were his biggest mistake. It was messy and awful and you wished that you could take that night back.
He lifted his other hand to push your hair behind your ear and cup your cheek. “I still love you, Y/N. I never stopped.”
You couldn’t find the words to express what you were feeling. Instead of trying to articulate everything going on in your brain, you leaned forward and kissed him. You figured that if your words were going to fail you, you could just show him.
Rafael was surprised at the first brush of your lips against his, but he quickly warmed up. He kissed you back with equal fervor, tracing his tongue against your bottom lip. You moaned quietly into his mouth when you opened up and felt the first touch of his tongue against yours. His hand slid into your hair, pulling you even closer against him. You pushed him into the back of the couch and moved to straddle his lap, not once breaking the kiss.
The hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair ghosted up your front, his fingers lightly tracing your skin over your shirt. He took one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed it, grinning into the kiss at the sound of your resulting groan. He wrapped his arm around you, planting his hand in between your shoulder blades so he could pull you flush against him. There was virtually no space between the two of you anymore, and you couldn’t shake just how right it felt to be back in his embrace.
When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, you leaned your forehead against his, your eyes still closed. You breathed in each other’s air, both panting heavily. When you finally opened your eyes, you saw Rafael staring up at you, his eyes a mixture of tenderness and wonder.
“Bedroom?” you asked him shakily. He nodded his agreement, and you reluctantly pulled yourself off of him. When he stood from the couch, he took your hand in his, pulling it up to his lips. He kissed each of your knuckles, looking at you through his lashes the whole time. The moment was both incredibly intimate and arousing. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, your breaths were coming in short pants, and you were uncomfortably wet. He still knew how to get you riled up.
“Lead the way, cariño.”
You pulled him into your bedroom and once the door was shut behind you, you pulled him into another kiss. It was hot and desperate, all teeth and tongues. He gripped your hips tight enough that you know there’d be fingertip-shaped bruises in the morning. The thought sent a shiver through your body. He remembered how much you liked finding his marks on your body.
The next thing you knew, Rafael was gripping you even tighter as he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he turned and took the few steps over to your bed. He laid you down gently, settling himself in between your thighs. He ground down into you, and you could feel his hard cock through his slacks, and you broke away to whimper.
Rafael took the opportunity to start peppering kisses over your cheek and jawline. He moved down to your throat, sucking and nipping at the base of it. You gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking up against his, and he groaned against your skin. Even though it’d been years since he last touched you like this, he still knew all the things you liked and all the ways he could unravel you underneath him.
He unbuttoned your shirt, trying to restrain himself from just ripping the damn thing off of you. Once it was gone, he sat up so he could rid himself of his own button-up and undershirt. While he took off his top two layers, you arched your back to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the floor. He let out an appreciative groan at the sight of you.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse. You leaned down to kiss you again before moving his mouth down to your breasts. He took your left nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while one of his hands tweaked your other nipple. He laid there for some time, lavishing your tits with attention, moving his mouth from one nipple to the other, his fingers following, while you squirmed and whined underneath him. The scratch of his beard against your skin burned in the best way possible, and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in between your legs.
Rafael must’ve read your mind, because he started to kiss down your stomach, occasionally sucking and biting at the soft skin there. He sat back on his heels to undo the button and pull down the zipper of your pants. You lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him pull them off of you. Once your jeans were gone, Rafael’s head was between your legs, nipping and sucking at the flesh of your thighs. You whimpered at the feeling of his beard scratching your sensitive skin and could feel him smirk against you as squirmed and tried to get closer to his face.
Ghosting his lips over your clothed pussy, he reached up and hooked his thumbs into your panties, slowly pulling them off of you. You could feel his breath against your slick folds and it made you shiver. Rafael looked up at you—his pupils blown wide, lips red and kiss swollen.
“It’s been too long since I’ve had my tongue in this pretty pussy” Rafael said, one of his thumbs running up your slit lightly, stopping just short of your clit. You gasped at the sensation. “Can I taste you, sweet girl? Please, let me taste you.”
“God, Rafa, yes,” you answered, nodding your head enthusiastically. Without missing a beat, Rafael ducked his head, flattening his tongue against you and licking a broad line up your pussy. You let out a broken moan, your hips bucking up, trying to chase his tongue, but he gripped your hips and pressed you down into the bed.
He moved to your clit, sucking it into his mouth as he brought one hand down to tease his fingers through your folds. Slowly, he pushed one finger inside of you and began pumping it in and out languidly. You gasped, throwing your head back into your pillows as your hands sought purchase in his hair. You tugged on the short strands, pulling his face closer to you. He groaned into your pussy, the sound reverberating through your body. He pulled off of your clit with a lewd pop, slipping another finger inside of you. He leaned his cheek against the inside of your thigh, his breath coming out in short pants.
“You feel so good wrapped around my fingers, baby. So tight and wet.” He started to speed up, crooking his fingers and finding your sweet spot right away. “I missed you so much, Y/N. I thought about you, about this, about being back in your arms, every day.”
His words and his fingers were too much. The coil in your belly started to tighten and you were gasping for breath. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—all you could do was let out tiny, broken moans and focus on how good Rafael was making you feel.
“You’re close, cariño, I can feel it. Can feel the way your pussy is tightening up. Come for me, Y/N. Come for me, let me feel it, let me see it.”
He took your clit into his mouth and sucked hard at the same time he hit your sweet spot again, and you were done for. You came with a gasp that turned into a long, drawn-out moan as your pussy spasmed around Rafael’s fingers.
Rafael worked you through your orgasm with his fingers, whispering praises into the skin of your thighs. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Good girl. Such a good girl for me.”
When you finally came down and your breathing evened out, you slowly blinked open your eyes. You looked down to find Rafael staring up at you, his gaze a bit softer than before. His fingers were still inside of you, and as your eyes met his, he slowly pulled them out, smirking at the soft whimper you let out at the slow drag of his fingers.
Rafael kissed his way up the length of your body until he captured your lips with his. He kissed you slowly, taking his time to explore your mouth with his tongue. You wrapped your arms around his back and your legs around his waist, angling your hips upward to brush your bare pussy against his cock, hard and still trapped beneath his slacks. He pulled away from your mouth to hiss at the slight friction. You did it again, smirking as he dropped his face to the crook of your neck and groaned. He nipped at your pulse point, just hard enough to leave a mark that’d last for the rest of the night but be gone before you had to go to work in the morning.
“Rafa,” you breathed out, still softly grinding up against him. “Take your pants off. Want you to fuck me.”
He nodded, his face still buried in your neck and the feeling of his beard against your skin making you shiver. He pulled away and stood from the bed, eyes never leaving yours as he removed his pants and boxer briefs, leaving him bare before you. You took your bottom lip in between your teeth as you openly ogled him. Your pussy clenched at the sight of his cock, just as beautiful as you remembered it. He wasn’t overly long, about average length, but he was on the thicker side and filled you perfectly. When you finally dragged your eyes up back to Rafael’s face, he was looking at you with a smug smirk.
“Like what you see, cariño?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Always.”
Rafael opened the drawer of your bedside table to pull out a condom. He didn’t even ask if you’d moved them, moving on muscle memory. You knew he’d find them, though, because you hadn’t moved them since the last time he pulled one out. There was a new addition to your bedside drawer, though: a purple rabbit vibrator that you bought while drunk, sad, and horny. It was one of your best purchases of the last three years. Before grabbing a condom, Rafael pulled the vibrator out and inspected it with a smirk.
“Hmm, you’ll have to give me a demonstration of how this works one of these days.” Your heart fluttered at the idea of whatever you two had going on right now not being a one-time thing.
He set the vibrator back down in the drawer and pulled out a condom. He joined you back on the bed, giving his cock a couple of strokes before tearing open the little foil packet and rolling the condom onto himself. He leaned down to kiss you, putting some of his weight onto you and pressing you into the mattress. Feeling him on top of you like that was always one of your favorite things.
Rafael pulled away and smiled at you as he grabbed his cock in one hand and guided himself to your entrance. He teased you a little, barely pushing the tip in. He liked watching you squirm underneath him.
“Please, Rafa,” you whined, trying to get him to push into you more. “Please don’t tease me.”
“Shh, cariño,” he soothed, his other hand coming up to stroke the side of your face. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand, turning slightly to press kisses to his palm. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. Just be patient.”
Finally, Rafael started to push his cock into you more. He went slowly, relishing the feeling of your walls being wrapped around him again. You both groaned at the feeling. It didn’t just feel good—it felt right. Like you two were missing puzzle pieces, finally locked together. You knew then that you never wanted to let him go again.
When Rafael bottomed out, he crushed his forehead against yours, his eyes scrunched shut. He was breathing heavily, and as much as you wanted him to move, you knew he was trying to hold back. He wasn’t going to last long, but that was okay—neither were you.
“How long?” you asked breathlessly. He sat up a bit, blinking his eyes open. He looked at you, confusion etched on his face.
“Huh?”
You rolled your hips a little and gasped, hoping he got the message. He groaned, dropping onto one of his forearms as his hand gave out. He was panting into your ear, trying to gain a little bit of composure.
“Not since,” he panted, giving his hips an experimental thrust that had you both moaning. “Not since the last time I was with you.”
“Me neither, Rafael. Me neither. I couldn’t do it, not with anybody but you,” you said, grasping his face in your hands and pulling him down to kiss you. He moaned into your mouth, not really trying to kiss you back, but wanting to feel your mouth on his.
Finally, he started to move. At first, his pace was slow—he took his time pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back in. He liked watching your face when he did this, how your eyebrows would scrunch together and your mouth would fall open in small moans. But soon enough, his resolve began to crack, and he started to pound into you harder, punching the breath from your gut. You ran your fingers through his hair at the back of his head, holding onto dear life.
“Yes, Rafa, just like that,” you moaned, trying to roll your hips to meet his thrusts. “Don’t stop.”
Rafael grunted in response. He dipped his head down to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses all over your skin. One of his hands snaked down between your bodies, finding your clit with his thumb and rubbing it in small, tight circles. You let out a cry at the sensation, the coil in your belly beginning to wind once again.
“I’m so close, Y/N,” Rafael said into your neck. “Want to feel you come on cock. I need it, baby. Need you to come for me.”
You nodded your head, unable to form any words. There was too much happening—the feeling of Rafael’s cock dragging along your walls, his thumb on your clit, the dirty words he was whispering in your ear.
“Come on, Y/N, I know you’re close. Be a good girl and come on my cock, cariño.”
When one particularly hard thrust had him hitting you just right, you couldn’t hold it back any longer. You came with a loud, broken moan, your back arching off the bed as you nearly ripped Rafael’s hair out. Your pussy clenched Rafael’s cock in a vice as he kept fucking into you, chasing his own orgasm. After two, three more thrusts, he let out a deep, low groan as he came. His hips slowed as he worked you both through your highs.
When you came down, your legs were shaking and you could barely open your eyes. Rafael kissed his way up your neck and across the side of your face until he could capture your lips between his. It was slow and sweet, and you whined as he pulled away. Carefully, Rafael pulled his softening cock out of your pussy, making him hiss and you whimper at the feeling of being empty. Your eyes were still closed, so you didn’t see him get up from the bed and stand on wobbly legs.
You had started to doze off when you felt the cool washcloth start cleaning up in between your legs. It made you jerk awake, your eyes shooting open. Rafael was silent as he cleaned you up and you watched him work. Once he was done, he got up to put the cloth into your hamper and started to pick up his clothes.
Frowning at him, you asked, “what are you doing?”
He looked up at you, a bit of a solemn expression on his face. He looked like he was about to cry. “I was just, uh, getting my clothes together. I don’t know if you want me to stay, and I don’t want to be presumptuous.”
You sighed and used the rest of your energy to sit up. “Come sit with me,” you said softly.
Rafael set his clothes back down on the floor as he sat down next to you on the bed. His hands were fidgeting in his lap and he stared at them. You placed one of your hands on both of his and he looked up at you, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“Rafael, I still love you too, you know. I never stopped. When you left…” you huffed out a sigh and a dry chuckle. “I was in hell. I didn’t think I was ever gonna get over you. I never really did, if I’m being honest. Recently I thought I was in more of a better place, but I still missed you. I still wished that I was yours and you were mine. Not going with you has been one of my biggest regrets.”
You thought that hearing how much you still loved him would’ve made Rafael feel better, but you weren’t anticipating the opposite reaction. You didn’t think it was possible for his face to fall even more than it already had.
“Please don’t say that, Y/N. I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I knew how much you loved your job—how much you still do—and I shouldn’t have asked you to give that all up for me. I don’t want you to regret not coming with me, because I regret not staying here and rebuilding my life with you.”
You leaned into Rafael for a kiss, leaning your forehead against his when you pulled away. The two of you sat like that for a while, content to just be near each other. You had missed this more than anything—just being able to be with him.
“How long are you in New York for?” you asked as you pulled away. Rafael sighed and lifted one of his arms to put around your shoulders. You cuddled into his side, wrapping your arm around him and resting your head on his chest.
“For good. I took a job with the Innocence Project in their New York offices.”
You sat back up to look at him, scanning his face for any indication that he was lying. He wasn’t. Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest.
“Are you serious? You’re back for good?”
He nodded, a soft smile on his face. “I am, cariño. And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time.”
You knew you both still had a lot to work out and things to settle from the last time you saw each other, but in that moment none of that mattered to you. All you cared about was that the love of your life was back home, back with you, and you felt whole again.
hey I was just wondering in this interview there's this guy who walked behind Louis and I saw in a few vids in YouTube that its harry and I was wondering if thats been debunked or not?
Hi dear,
I’m not sure if it has been officially debunked but I never really saw Harry behind him. Could be? But it’s so quick and the resolution is quite bad, it’s hard to tell.
Does anyone know if it’s been debunked?
Unrelated to your question but, I love this unedited interview clip. You can see the difference between his “on camera” persona and his regular self.
Actually, he seems pretty relaxed in this whole clip, and I love it. You get a sense of how sweet he really is, and how caring and loving. He just seems so friendly and kind, almost delicate.
And he is sooooooo flamboyant. It’s great to see it. It’s in how he talks, moves and it makes me love him even more.
Also, I’m absolutely in love with his accent. Keep talking forever Louis, please.
Characters/Pairings: Artist!Gene!! WinRoe & past mentions of winnix, also lots of winnix friendship.
Summary: It’s 1950 and Richard Winters is feeling directionless after the war. He and Nix are no longer together, having broken up in Germany, but they still maintain a tenuous friendship. After the death of his father Nix decides he needs a fresh start and moves west to California, leaving Dick lonely and somewhat stranded. Having no more ties on the East coast, Dick decides to go visit Eugene Roe, after a chance meeting with Babe, who he runs into at the train station. Babe tells him that after a construction accident left him unable to work in construction anymore, Eugene lives now as an artist in an old church in Georgia. Curious, Winters goes to visit Gene for a week, in a hope to get his head straight, and ends up staying longer.
It had been about a month since Richard Winters last heard from his best friend and ex-partner, Lewis Nixon. It was early July, 1950. But when Dick picked up the phone and heard his old friends, voice, it easily could have been the summer of ‘43 all over again. Nix didn’t even have to say hello, Dick knew him just by the way he cleared his throat.
“Spit it out, Nix.” Dick was half expecting the announcement of his 3rd engagement, but that was not yet to be.
“So, I hear California is nice this time of year.” Nix voice came out sorry over the receiver. Dick heard the crackle of a sigh coming through hundreds of miles of phone lines. A pause, and then: “Dad died. His last fuck you was to leave us bankrupt. So I sold the company. Headin west.”
“Oh.” said Dick.
“I’m leaving at the end of the month. Dick…” Nix shifted his voice like a manual transmission. “I know I have no right to ask but...can you just help me this one last time?”
Richard Winters first learned of Eugene Roe’s new profession when he ran into Babe Heffron at the train station in Philly. The station was chaotic, many students said goodbye to loved ones as they headed off to college, and man and women kissed at the train doors. Children ran amok as their mother struggled to locate their tickets in her purse. That’s when Winters saw Babe. He knew him by his goofy nose and copper hair. He herded the two boys back to their mother, who thanked him. Richard had spotted him first, but something in him hesitated to say something; Besides Floyd Talbert and Nix, he wasn’t sure what they would think of him now, outside the war. He feared there might be some resentment for what he put them through. Nix always rolled his eyes at this, in true Nix fashion. “I’m sure they hate you for getting them home alive.” But, if they felt like he did, Richard would understand: the part of him that survived the war still mourned the the parts of him that didn’t. He could understand if men like Toye, Gaurnere, and malarky resented him. There were fates worse than death.
It was Babe who said something first. He caught WInters staring and gasped aloud. “It was Babe who said something first. He caught Winters staring. "Well, I'll be damned, Major Winters!" Babe gave him a firm handshake and a slap on the back.
"It's just Richard now," he smiled weakly.
"Richard, huh? What are you doin' clear out here? Where ya headed?"
"New Jersey," Richard said.
Heffron smiled knowingly, "Going to rescue Captain Nixon from another bender?" He jested.
"Something like that." Thin parenthesis formed around Richard's mouth as he forced a thin, but polite smile. Somehow, it wasn't that Richard minded saving Nix from himself, he had been doing it since they met in officer candidate school. But he bristled when others implied Nix was a lush. He was, and Richard knew that, but Nix was his lush. If something had happened to nix in the war, if he got himself killed some other awful thing, he knew he wouldn’t have made it through the war. So where his drinking was concerned, he didn't mind putting up with it as long as it meant he was the only one who had to.
"Hey, yeah, speaking of nicknames and all," Babe carried on. "The reason I'm in this joint is I just got back from seeing Eugene Roe," Babe grinned wide. “Doc!”
"That so?" Richard said. "He still callin' you, Edward?"
Babe snorted, "Yeah, he's still callin me Edward. Livin in a church now, just like the goddamned nuns, too!" And then he added, "He did call me 'Babe' a few times though when he wasn't thinking." Babe smiled with pride.
"He's living in a church?" Richard repeated.
"Huh! Yeah! Worked construction til he injured his back. Can't do that no more, so he lives now as a painter." Babe prattled on.
"And the church?" Richard was failing to see how the church fit into all of this.
"Well, he was renovating this old church, ya see? But the other contractors lost interest. Too much damage. So Gene bought it. It's his studio now."
"Our Gene a painter. Huh." The most immediate memory of the former medic that came to mind was Eugene's blank face in Bastogne, his hands all red and Harry's screams of agony. Richard felt ashamed that was the first memory to come to mind, it wasn't fair to associate such an honorable man with his lowest point. It was his subconscious way of reminding himself he would never forgive himself for the way he had to let Gene break down.
A woman's crackly voice called out over the PA, "Last call for Princeton,"
"That's you, huh?" Babe said. He pulled a small notebook out of the inner pocket of his wool coat. He ripped a page from it and held it out. "Gene's address. I don't need it, got it memorized. For what it's worth I think he would like to hear from ya, Major." Babe shoved the paper into Richard's hand.
"Thanks,” he said, absently.
When Richard boarded the train he was relieved to snag a few empty rows of seats to himself. He wasn’t up for idle conversation with strangers which would inevitably turn to the war and his service. It was another reminder he didn’t need. He was in one of his “moods” today, as Nix would affectionately refer to them.
Richard pulled the half-crumpled paper with Gene’s address out of his jacket pocket where he had shoved it when boarding the train earlier. He considered the paper and its potential. Eugene. He recalled memories of Gene’s tender hands pulling a ricochet out of his leg, the caring way he always brought him coffee after most of their battles. He shouldn’t feel special, Gene made coffee for plenty of the men numerous times, but he always seemed to make it a point to with Richard. Gene made everybody feel safe. For all his joking it was the morphine he administered, everybody felt better when Gene was around. His touch, his voice- it soothed like aloe on a sunburn.
Richard recalled one particular time, a time he avoided thinking about but thought about all the same, was in Germany, shortly after Nix had been served divorce papers and demoted. He’d been drunk, naturally, and he’d been angry. In a fit of rage, he had swiped a bottle of whiskey off the wooden table, where it hit the wall and shattered.
Ashamed and enraged, Nix had disappeared into the night. Dick had crouched down to begin cleaning up the mess, and the glass shards cut his fingers. He slipped on the whiskey and lost his balance. He caught himself in a handful of glass. Defeated he collapsed to sit on the floor and he slapped his hand against the wood in frustration, driving the smaller bits of glass deeper into his palms. He sat for a moment, pants wet from the liquor and hands bloody and raw, and he wept.
He had shown up to Eugene’s billet that night, sheepish with a bloody hand and smelling like a whiskey he didn’t drink. It looked much worse than it actually was, he told himself. He was half there because Doc was the only one he trusted to see him in such a state and half there out of loneliness. Gene carefully cleaned and stitched his wounds, only saying the occasional this might sting. Reverently he wrapped white bandages around Richard’s palm. Richard’s eyes stung with tears. Eugene had that same look in his eye when they announced Jackson’s death in a dank basement in Hagenau. He could tell Gene was holding back something he had wanted to say, and after he and Harry had nearly killed Moose in Holland, Richard had a mind to know what he was thinking.
Instead, Gene simply said, “A bit late for coffee, but I’ll warm you up some milk, yeah?”
