Makin' Plans (hbo war imagines)

7. Donald Malarkey; More Than Words

Inspired by "More Than Words" by Extreme

A quick squeeze of the hand. A protective arm around the waist. Tender smiles exchanged across any number of spaces. Everyone could see there was something there.

Easy Company was a fairly tight-knit crew after enduring training together with the infamous Captain Sobel, but no relationship could come close to whatever it was that you and Don shared. There was something about the way you existed in each other's presence... a soft whisper of feelings that would not be spoken out loud.

Not that either of you were the quiet, timid type, but there was so much weight with verbally expressing things that you both just left it as it was.
__________

"I can't believe they're calling this food," Penkala complained, setting his tray down.

You slid in next to Don, your thigh pressing against his. You threw him a greeting smile, as if you hadn't seen each other 10 minutes prior. "I know," you groaned and poked at whatever your entree was supposed to be. "Eww."

The boys scrunched their noses and cringed in agreement before you all dug in. Hey, you take what you can get, right?

"At least it's doesn't taste too bad," Muck admitted while still chewing.

Don nodded. "Yeah, but it looks worse coming back out of your mouth. How about some manners there, huh, Skip?"

You snorted. "Manners? Malark, what would you know about manners?"

He gave you an offended look, complete with a dramatic hand at his chest. "Exc-use me, Y/N? My mother raised me right."

You bumped your shoulder to his and leaned your head towards him. "Aw, I was just poking fun. Don't get upset. We both know you're an absolute gentleman."

A proud grin spread across his face, and you two had a moment where your foreheads were touching before you both went back to eating. It was short and sweet, and neither of you thought much of the action.

Muck and Penkala exchanged a brief look, but neither man said anything.

"Hey, Don," you held out your apple. "Wanna split this with me?"
__________

It was loud. You were sure you had never been somewhere so loud. If you thought too hard about the tin-can-with-wings were were currently trusting with your life, you would have devolved very quickly. Oh-

You could feel yourself get a little more tense, but then your hand that had been pressing fingertips into your thigh was being held. It took a second to remember who was next to you, but you looked over into Don's reassuring eyes.

He didn't even try to say anything, instead giving you a thumbs up. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and pulled it to his lap, where he ran his thumb over the back of your hand, catching in every ridge and rut. Over your knuckles. In circles.

You remembered before this, when this was still training and not the practical application, when you were worried that your ginger beacon of light would be seated somewhere you wouldn't be able to feel him.

Touch kept you grounded, and he knew this. Don had quickly picked up on your little things, as you had his. He liked sharing things. The idea of more than one person partaking in one thing made him happy.

The harsh rushes of air rumbling around the plane began to seem less intense. Not for any other reason than you were allowing yourself to get used to it. You felt safer now.
__________

If misery loves company, then you were steeping in it. You wanted nothing more than your red-headed rascal to appear next to you and speak to you through a hug or a pat on the shoulder. Anything.

But the emotional turmoil everyone was facing in Bastogne was making you suppress your own wants. The loss of Skip and Alex still hadn't fully settled on your heart, and it was causing a dull throb of pain. It was so hard to think that they weren't laughing in their foxhole. They weren't making you all laugh. They weren't here anymore.

Don began to keep to himself a little more, and you, more than anyone else, noticed. He was nursing a pain you were familiar with, but despite your mutual loss, neither of you wanted to be the one that reached out first.

You lasted three excruciatingly long days before you crawled into his foxhole.

Don has his knees pulled up close to his chest, and he looked colder somehow.

"I wanted..." you couldn't quite put it into words. You had never had to before, so instead of thinking of how to explain, you chose action. You scooted in close to him and tucked your head into the crook of his neck.

He slid his legs down and pulled you closer. It hadn't occurred to him how much you had needed him, but he felt it now. Feeling what little body heat you radiated, he could practically hear everything running through your mind.

"They'd be laughing at us right now," you mumbled into his shoulder. "That look they always gave each other when we... well, you know."

He made a noise that may have been a laugh. "It was always the same look too." Silence. A heartbeat or two passed. "They told us to be prepared for battle. They trained us to fight, to jump out of planes, to eat garbage. But..." He felt his throat threatening to close up. A crack in his voice was imminent.

"But they don't train us to lose people," you finished for him. "We weren't prepared to say goodbye to people we'd gone through hell with. Hell, we didn't even get to say goodbye." You buried yourself a little further into him, willing yourself to conform to his figure.

Maybe if you just held him a little longer, then everything might seem just a little better.
__________

It was something everyone discussed at some point during their time in the war: "What are you doing when you get home?"

You had never asked before because home seemed like such a distant thought, but now that foxholes and trenches were just a little bit further away, you felt like knowing.

Don's smile alone made asking it just that much more worth it. "I guess what everyone plans on doing. Find my place back home, a job. Maybe my old one. I'm not sure yet. Then I want to get married and start a family. Good thing I already know who I want to do that second part with."

That made you anxious for whatever reason. "Yeah?"

He interlaced your fingers, and his smile grew a little. "Yeah."

I swear everything I write in here I'm so self-indulgent. Also, that last section is so short?? Oh well. M'kay.

~Mariah