Chapter Text
Basic training had been interesting. Fun, to be honest, but very difficult. And lonely. He'd received no letters, unlike the rest of his company. He never made any phone calls. No one came on family day or to see his graduation. He didn't even get to go back home like the rest of the seventeen year olds for his senior year because he'd dropped out of high school as sixteen and gotten his GED. Instead of going home, back to California from Fort Jackson in South Carolina, he instead was shipped off to another base for AIT. Basic had been ten weeks in the hot summer sun. He'd been a good recruit. Quiet, never really said much or made many friends, but he was good, nonetheless. And just so happened to be the youngest in his company of about two hundred people. Luckily enough, some of the older men decided to take him under their wing, especially after they heard everything he had been through. Even the drill sergeants had been a bit kinder to him. He was a pretty good shot, too. Perfect, actually. He hit all of his targets during qualification, the only one to do so in the company. After that came seven weeks of less physically intense work. He was an 88M, Motor Transport Operator, which was good because he'd always liked working on cars. Again, he was the youngest. And graduated as one of the top in his class. He was promoted from an E1 to an E2. Still a private but, hey, he made more money, which he needed. That was part of the reason he had joined the damn military. He'd been reluctant to cut his hair and remove his piercings - a septum piercing and snakebites that he'd gotten at fifteen - but... he'd had to.
He's twenty now and on his first deployment in Iraq. It's his second month and he's managed to make a few friends. One in particular. Sergeant Sanders. Big guy, built like a brick wall. Most people were afraid of him because he had a bit of a temper and was well known for breaking noses when someone pissed him off but he was a good guy. Had a family back home, a wife and a son, River, who was about a year old now. Sanders hadn't seen his son since the day of his birth. He'd been shipped off to combat the very next day. Zacky always thought that was fucked up but, hey, that was the military for you. Lots of things about it were pretty fucked up but it was good. It had provided for him. Given him a purpose in life. It was the only reason he was still living, honestly. If he hadn't joined the army he probably would have just killed himself or something. Who could blame him? No family (not that they had really liked him when they had still been alive), no friends, nothing. Well, he had friends now. Army friends. But that was different. They were his battle buddies.
"Baker, get your ass out here!" The familiar voice of another private, an E1, Private Seward, broke him out of his thoughts. He looked up from the book he was reading (it was a humvee manual, really, not a book, he didn't have any) and blinked as he stared at the short man standing at the entrance of their room. Bunk. Whatever. It was his home for the next... two years? He didn't remember. Didn't really care to remember. "That stupid pen pal shit you signed us up for is happening today. Come on. We're late. We were supposed to be there," he paused, glancing at his watch and frowning, "like, two minutes ago. You know how Sergeant Sanders gets when people are late so get your fat ass up and lets go."
Zacky rolled his eyes and sighed but closed the book (manual, whatever) and got up. He grabbed his ACU top and pulled it on, zippering and velcroing it as he walked over to meet Seward, who was already walking away. Zacky knew that he was excited. He was expecting a letter from his "friend," Jimmy, from back home. Zacky knew the truth. Jimmy was more than a friend to Johnny (that was Seward's first name, Johnny). They were together. Zacky wasn't sure how long, he'd never bothered to ask. Figured it wasn't his business.
Why letters and not emails? Well... basically because the internet out here was shit. It rarely ever worked. Once in a while, they could get on Facebook for, like, five minutes at a time (not that Zacky ever really bothered to go on Facebook, what was the point when all of your friends were deployed with you) but other than that... letters it was. Most of the men and women bitched about it but Zacky hadn't really cared up until recently, when Sergeant Sanders had pulled him aside and asked if he wanted to sign up for this pen pal thing. Sanders knew that Zacky was lonely. And sad, very sad, and he wanted to help the younger man so he convinced him to sign up. Not wanting to seem like a pussy, Zacky had convinced Johnny to sign up, too (very reluctantly) but, hey, that's what battle buddies were for, right?
No, they're to make sure you don't get your leg blown off by an IED. The thought, though rather dark, made his lips twitch up into a slight smile as he walked to another building where all of the mail was handed out. They would Sergeant Sanders quickly. He handed Johnny two letters and the small man did his best to keep a goofy smile off his face as he looked down at the letter from Jimmy (he failed and Sanders just pretended not to notice, it wasn't his business who Seward was attracted to) before the hazel eyed man turned to Zacky with a warm smile. Zacky noticed that he had dimples as he took the letter.
"I saved this one for you. You said you were from Huntington Beach, right?" he asked the younger man quietly and Zacky nodded, looking down at the envelope and chucking when he saw the return address. It was a P.O. Box from Huntington Beach, go figure. However, there was no name. Just the letter B where a name should have gone. Zacky didn't care. A letter was a letter, wasn't it? He figured it was probably some high school girl or something who wanted to flirt with a man in uniform. Zacky didn't mind. Wasn't like they would ever meet or anything.
"Yeah," he said without thinking before quickly correcting himself with a sheepish smile as Sergeant Sanders arched a brow at him. Sanders hated when people said yeah. It reminded Zacky of this one drill sergeant at basic who would smoke a whole platoon just for one recruit accidentally saying yeah. Hell, he would smoke the whole damn company if he could get away with it (and he could). "Fuck. I mean yes. Thanks, Sergeant. I'll just head back home now. See ya in the morning."
Sanders laughed and nodded, watching as Zacky and Johnny headed back to their "home" with their letters in hand. Johnny had already opened the one from Jimmy and was reading it with wide eyes. Zacky had decided to wait to open his letter.
"Oh my God, Jimmy nearly set out kitchen on fire. Again!"
Zacky chuckled, looking over curiously at the smaller man. "So you do live together! I knew it."
That made Johnny blush and he quickly folded the letter and stuffed it back into the envelope with a huff. "Shut up, Baker."
"It's cool, man. I don't care. You should know that by now."
Johnny didn't say anything until they were both sitting on their beds which were right next to each other. "So... who's yours from?"
Zacky shrugged, turning the letter over in his hand to see if a name was written on the back. There wasn't one. "Dunno. Just says B, but it's from my town. So..." He shrugged again.
They didn't talk anymore after that. Johnny laid back in his bed and read Jimmy's letter again, the one from his pen pal forgotten on the table next to his bed. Zacky, on the other hand, was carefully opening the envelope as he sat with his back against the headboard. He was nervous and he didn't know why. Okay, maybe he did know why. This was his first letter. Who cares if it wasn't someone he actually knew? They had still obviously cared enough to send it and that made him feel... not so sad.
The letter was typed which he found interesting. To be honest, he had kind of been curious about this person's handwriting. Sighing quietly, he finished unfolding the letter (it wasn't very long) and began to read.
Dear Soldier,
Okay. That was funny. And cute. Zacky found himself smiling as he continued to read.
My name, well. Call me B. Sorry, don't wanna... give my name. At least not right now. Maybe later, though. If we get along, I guess. I found this group that sends letters to soldiers overseas and I was bored so I joined. You probably have a ton of letters or emails or whatever from family and friends so I'm not really expecting a reply. Just wanted to thank you for serving our country (sorry if you're tired of hearing that from everyone...). I could never do what you do. I'd be scared shitless (sorry if you don't like cursing...). So... what do you do? If you don't mind me asking. You don't have to answer me. I'm not expecting a reply, as I said. Just always been kinda curious about the military. Seen a lot of war movies with my dad. He's a comedian, though, so he's always cracking jokes about them which can be a bit annoying. Anyway, you probably don't want to hear all this crap about me. Again, thank you for your service. Bet it takes a lot to be a soldier. Lot of mental and physical strength or whatever.
B.
And... that was it. It was short but Zacky couldn't stop smiling. He found himself wishing that the person had sent a picture so that he could put a face to the "name" but he figured if they didn't want to give their name, they probably weren't going to give him a picture, either, and that was fine. This was great. This short letter that didn't really even say much. It was great. Perfect. He wouldn't be able to type a letter back, the computers were shit and the printers even worse, but he liked writing things by hand better, anyway. Eager to star, he grabbed a notebook (he usually used it as a journal but he could spare a page for this) and a pen (black, since that's what the military expected, blue or black ink) and quickly got to work.
Hey, B!
Thanks for the letter. I really appreciate it. Made my day. I honestly don't get any mail (emails included) so this was nice. Feel free to send more, if you want to. I would love to hear from you. You're welcome for the "serving our country" thing but you really don't have to thank me. And I am scared, honestly. This is my first deployment and I'm only twenty years old. My name is Zacky, by the way. Zacky Baker and I'm a private. You can look me up on Facebook if you want pictures or whatever. There's not much, don't use it that often, but just in case you wanted to see what I looked like. Not much to look at, really. Just an average guy. Or below average. Probably below average, haha. Anyway, this is my second month in Iraq. It's very hot here. And sandy. I drive a humvee, one of those Jeeps, ya know? I guess this kinda is like the movies. Haven't really seen any "real war," I guess you could say. Only one IED but it was a dud and no one got hurt. But I don't want to scare you or anything. Thank you again for your letter, it really means a lot to me. You can write again if you want, as often as you want, though we don't always get mail on time. Takes a bit to go through it and they have to check everything to make sure it's not a bomb or something. The joys of the military! Everything could be a bomb, apparently. But that's a whole other story.
Hope to maybe hear from you again!
Private Baker
He was still smiling as he signed the letter. He was still smiling after he sent it. And later that night, when he was laying down and trying to sleep. Much to his surprise, it took him just a few minutes to drift off into sleep instead of a couple of hours, like usual. And it was kind of the best sleep he had had in a long time.