Chapter Text
Although Troy had told himself time and again to let it go, to just let Dietrich leave without making a big deal about it, he just didn't want to. They had already shared too much time together, but he also wanted to say goodbye in some small way, to acknowledge that Dietrich was leaving but no longer as an enemy. He wasn't a friend, or even an ally, but the circumstance needed to be addressed. So Troy went down to the infirmary to look for the captain, but he'd already been discharged. Dietrich was apparently being temporarily housed near the American officers in a different wing of the headquarters, which seemed very strange. Even though he was an officer, the captain was still a POW, even if a cooperative one; he should have been kept elsewhere. When Troy finally found Dietrich's quarters, he was greeted by the captain, and far more cheerfully than he was expecting.
"Come to see me off?" Dietrich asked as he packed his things into a suitcase that was laid out on the bed next to meticulously folded articles of clothing and other personal objects.
"Something like that." Troy couldn't help but stare because Dietrich was limping quite badly. Seeing his expression, Dietrich grabbed a cane nearby and held it up. Troy asked in a lighthearted tone, "Not quite healed yet?"
"I have healed sufficiently. Unfortunately, my legs won't be healing enough to walk without this cane any time soon. Or...even after that." He pursed his lips and looked down at his legs, but he still seemed in a better mood than Troy was expecting.
"Oh," responded Troy, "sorry about that."
"It's not your doing."
"I know. So, you're going back to the States?"
"No, I'm going home."
"Home? You mean back to Germany?"
Dietrich nodded. "As I will no longer be able to perform my duties in my state, I'm being sent back, then I will be discharged from the Wehrmacht on my return."
"Honorably discharged, I hope."
"Yes...I believe so," Dietrich responded in a low voice, his eyes flitting down a moment.
Honorably. To the Wehrmacht maybe, but to Dietrich himself? Troy understood how he felt. Still, Troy also knew that Dietrich deserved that word, and far more than most, maybe even more than himself and his team. The man had, Troy had found out recently, a moral fortitude that exceeded most people's, but that same fortitude morphed into a burden when he couldn't maintain it. In a strange way, Troy was envious. In a different way, he was glad he wasn't like that - he wasn't sure which was worse to feel.
Dietrich was watching him, observing him, perhaps in a similar way that Troy was thinking about him. Finally, Dietrich said, "I'm sorry I never had a chance to thank you."
"Thank me?"
"For what you did in the cave."
"Oh, yeah." Troy gave a friendly smile. "You're welcome."
"It was...difficult," Dietrich said slowly. He made his way to a part of the bed that was clear and sat down carefully, a wince flashing on his face before disappearing.
"It was difficult," echoed Troy, nodding lightly. Not wanting to bog down his goodbye with too many heavy thoughts, Troy said, somewhat casually, "But, hey, you're going home now. That's nice."
With an eyebrow lifted, Dietrich said, "Ever the optimist," but it was in good humor.
"Bet your parents will be happy to have you home."
"I'm certain my mother will be. My father was conscripted into the army. He's in France."
"You're kidding. Isn't he too old..?"
Dietrich was looking at Troy sidelong when he asked, "How old do you think I am?"
Troy shrugged. "I don't know. Early thirties?"
Dietrich suppressed a smile and looked down a moment. Then he said, "I'm twenty-three. Well, I'll be twenty-four in one month. My father is forty years old."
Troy's eyebrows shot up. "You're telling me your father is only six years older than I am?"
"My parents married when they were quite young. I was born soon after."
This new information was suddenly making things a lot clearer for Troy. For the first time, he realized he'd been dealing with somebody who was too young to understand a lot of things. Dietrich wasn't a child, of course, and he was very mature compared to others his age, but it was no wonder he was struggling with some of the events that had happened more recently. He just didn't have the experiences to cushion such difficulties, ones that came with age and that couldn't be learned except through time. None of this changed Troy's understanding of the captain's personality, but it added some dimensions that he hadn't known were even there. As such, Troy walked to Dietrich and, slowly, sat down next to him. He hoped he wasn't being too forward, but given what had happened between them he just didn't care anymore about decorum. Troy asked, "Are you going to be alright?"
Dietrich, who had been lost in his own thoughts, seemed a bit surprised by the question, though Troy wasn't sure why. It took a beat for him to reply, "You have already asked me this, Sergeant."
"And I'm asking again."
For a moment, Dietrich just looked at him, something scrutinizing but curious in his gaze. "I suppose I shouldn't question your concern by now, but I still am."
"You're avoiding the question."
"No, I am asking a more relevant one. Why did you save me in that cave? Why were you always so concerned?"
Troy sighed softly and his shoulders fell. "Just what do you take me for?"
Thinking for a moment, Dietrich said, "You said before, while we were in the cave, you said something strange that I didn't understand then, that I still don't understand."
"What did I say?"
"You said: 'I'm not a monster'. What did you mean by that?"
Shaking his head once, Troy ran a hand down his face and he had to think of the answer himself because even he wasn't sure. Looking at Dietrich, he said, "I don't know. I guess you were prodding at something I was feeling at the time."
"What was it?" asked Dietrich, and for some reason he looked a bit desperate, like he really needed that answer.
"I don't know," repeated Troy honestly. He really didn't know; or, maybe, he didn't know how to give the answer in words. What had he meant by that, after all? Was it his training? Because he didn't pull the trigger personally or feel the boy die in his arms? Was he really a monster but just didn't want to admit it? He didn't think it true, but sometimes he felt like it. He just didn't care the way that Dietrich did.
Dietrich was staring at him and his desperation seemed to be turning into irritation, even anger. Even so, he looked away and kept whatever it was to himself. A moment later, he said, "It's strange, I have been so envious of how you handled what happened."
Troy furrowed his brow and, although he already suspected the answer, he asked, "What do you mean?"
"Only that you have fared far better than I." Dietrich looked at Troy and, again, that desperation returned. "I am returning home yet I don't know that I will ever truly feel at home again." He looked down at his hands in his lap. "I don't think I will ever escape this desert." In a lower voice, he said, "I'm not certain I have even left that cave..."
Although he wished he didn't, Troy felt the same way. Perhaps they'd never escape this cursed war no matter where they went or how far they traveled. Hesitating only a second, he put his hand on Dietrich's shoulder and left it there. It might have been inappropriate, but when Dietrich, almost imperceptibly, leaned toward him, Troy was glad he had. He knew he couldn't answer any of Dietrich's questions, not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't understand yet himself. The war brought up so many questions yet rarely answered them. They would have to do that for themselves over time.
Troy squeezed Dietrich's shoulder a little, then he retracted his hand. Dietrich said, "Perhaps we could use a little of that American optimism right now. Hm, Sergeant?"
Nodding, Troy said, "Yeah. We could. But I guess right now we'll just have to settle somewhere between. We'll be okay, but maybe it'll take a little time."
"A lot of time."
"Or a lot of time," Troy exhaled with a small smile. "But it won't last forever."
Dietrich looked at him and asked, "How do you know?"
And suddenly there was that boy again, asking questions he wished somebody would answer, but Troy just wasn't the one to answer them. Still, he pretended. He pretended for the both of them. "You're just gonna have to trust me, Captain," said Troy. Looking away, Dietrich nodded. Troy wasn't sure the captain believed him, but maybe, like Troy, he was pretending in this moment and that was good enough for now.
Troy said goodbye and so did Dietrich, and it was good that their conversation didn't seem to weigh too heavily on him. Perhaps Troy had made everything worse, but that dose of reality - neither pessimism nor optimism - was what they needed the most to continue their lives away from the war. Otherwise, they might never find home again.