Basil jolted upright with a scream lodged in his throat. His eyes were wide as the canvas wall of the tent became visible and he clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the panicked breaths as he tried desperately not to start screaming. In the bedroll next to him, Monty was snoring nasally. The man was sprawled on his back with one arm tucked under his head, top lip wobbling as he breathed. It made his little mistake move like a caterpillar. Basil leaned forwards and pressed his head between his knees as he tried to calm his gasps. The nightmare had set adrenaline pounding in his bones. It made the tent suffocating.

As quickly, with jerky movements still hindered by sleep and stiffness, and quietly as he could he pushed off his blankets and pulled on his boots. He snatched up his jackets and pulled them on as he crawled out of the tent. The sky was turning purple with the approaching dawn and the birds were beginning to wake up behind him. Sam and Frenchie were slumped near the dying embers of their fire. They looked over as Basil straightened and pulled on his jackets. It took him a few attempts before he realised he was trembling. Breath turning to fog in the chilly air and fingers numb in cold.

"Are you okay Basil?" Happy Sam called softly over.

Basil turned and fixed a smile on his face as he wandered over. "I'm fine. Thought I'd come out and get first dibs at rations". He sat down and picked up a stick to poke at the fire. Now that his jackets was on, his sheathed knives rested comfortably against his chest. The two in his boots were cod against his socked feet. Their weights helping to calm him somewhat.

"Oi, we get first dibs", Sam poked at Basil's hands as he reached towards the food packs. Frenchie laughed.

"Keep your English mitts away".

"Mean", Basil pouted. He huffed, the fading adrenaline not allowing him to stay still. "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back by the wake up call".

"Don't go far", Sam reminded. They were due to meet with another American squad within the next few days so the land they were on should be safe but none of them liked to take chances.

"I've got my knives", Basil patted his jacket. "I'll just loop the campsite".

"You surgeons and your knives", Sam muttered. Frenchie exclaimed something in French and Same laughed. Basil let the sound fade out as he began walking away.

The air was cold despite it being almost March. He knew that they were near the boarder to Switzerland and that the plan was to move through Switzerland into Germany next. His boots were wet with dew and it made the grass hard to walk through. He trudged heavily in between the trees. The camp site hidden in a small copice at the side of a hill. Hard to ambush but also with vantage points over the local roads. Basil stopped at one of these points. A gap in the thicket where he could look down over the hill and over the tree tops of the woods below. The sky was slowly turning colourful as the sun dawned.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there. Long enough for the jitteriness to calm and the images in his head to fade. Long enough for the pinks and pale blues to start to paint the horizon. There was the tred of boots behind him and he didn't need to turn to see who was joining him. "Have you ever heard of Achilles and Patroclus?" He murmured to Bucky as the blue eyes man stopped at his side.

"I read about him once", Bucky replied, voice equally as soft and calm. "Wasn't he a hero of the Greeks? Who was invincible apart form his heel?"

"That true. He fought in the battle of Troy. Him and his friend Patroclus. The historians called them great friends but they were lovers. Patroclus died first. When Achilles refused to fight for Agamemnon, to stop the slaughter of the Greeks, Patroclus stole Achilles' armour and wore it into battle. Thinking it was Achilles, the Greeks fought harder than before. Until hector came and killed Patroclus. Enraged by his lover's death, Achilles killed hector and fought with a rage to devour gods. His rage was so powerful that no one could oppose him. The very gods themselves had to interfere. Apollo appeared to Paris and guided his arrow so that it struck true. When Achilles died he asked to be buried with his lover. They were burned together on a funeral pyre and entombed in the same urn, together for eternity".

"I never knew that", Bucky hummed. "I wasn't taught of the classics in school".

Basil made a considering noise. "I loved the myths of gods as a child. It was one of the things that got me into medicine. The power to oppose the gods and their paths for us by learning the human body and how to save it. The thought of some person in the sky guiding my every move unsettles me as much as I find the myths interesting". He paused then inhaled. "There are many stories of people like us in history. It reassures me to know that I am not the first or alone in this. When I first liked boys, I loved Achilles and Patroclus. Them, Dorian grey. The Spartans, Sappho. People I used to read about as a young man".

"Basil", Bucky said. "You're still a young man. So am I".

"I know", Basil rolled his eyes but the reminder had brought a slight amused smile to his lips.  Bucky grinned at the sight.

"I mean. Don't age us prematurely. I have my whole youth to enjoy".

"You know what I mean", Basil bumped their shoulders together. "When I was in my teens".

"So last year".

"Shut up".

Bucky began chuckling and Basil huffed at him but his smile was there, tugging at his lips. "Did you know that the Spartans used to encourage homosexuality between their soldiers. Their belief was that if you fight alongside those you love, you fight twice as hard".

Bucky listened to him speak. "Why are you waxing philosophical about Greek history this morning? It's a beautiful morning". He gestured to the colourful sunrise. The yellow light was now touching the bare wisps of clouds on a clear sky.

Basil tilted his head. "I had a nightmare. Nightmares, plural. And you remind me of them. Men like us, fighting alongside each other in war". He took a deep breath. "I write to my brother about you. He is the only other person who knows about my preferences. The last letter I wrote"- he cut off and bit his lip for a second. His expression young as the golden light of dawn hit his face. It gave a sheen to his tanned skin, making it bronze and precious. "In the last letter I wrote I told him about us". He turned to Bucky with wide eyes. Expression serious, which was rare on him. An expression only Bucky, out of their squad, had seen. This was Basil without the jokes, the humour and the silliness.

"Sarge. Bucky. If we are to continue this, kissing or whatever, I need you to know that this is different. When you caught me with Palmer a year ago, that was foolish fun. Stress relief and fooling around. This. This thing between us. For me that's real. The most real I've felt for someone. I need you to know that before we continue this because we are at war. If you don't feel the same way then please spare me now. Cut me loose before this goes too far", Basil was almost pleading. Not joking tone or teasing smirk. His eyes were open and honest. Beseeching. "And if you feel the way that I do please tell me. We can die at any moment out here. If you feel the same way then please tell me so I can cherish our moments. You always say tomorrow but tomorrow is fickle and a dream. I am scared Sarge. I want to love and be loved before I die. Don't give me cruel hope".

In that moment he looked his age. It was easy to forget how young, yet mature he was. With all the jokes and his humour. It made him hard to read and easy to dismiss. It was easy to ignore how strong Basilton Parrish was. A twenty year old boy with his whole life ahead of him stuck in a war, being forced to kill and survive. To try and hold his fellow men together with words and stitches or to watch them die in his hands. Bucky inhaled as his mind turned over the words he had just been handed. Basil's heart lay in his hands. The thing so simply given yet heavy with consequence.

"What nightmares brighten this on?" He asked. Basil turned away to watch the sunrise again. New beginnings.

"I dreamed of that lab again", his reply was quiet. "But this time you weren't there. If you weren't there then I would have died. I was alone in the dark, unable to move as I burned and froze. Stuck in agony and endlessly alone. It hurt".

Bucky reached out and carefully took Basil's face in his palms. He gently turned him back so they were face to face. Around them the birds were waking up and calling. The touching of skin was warm with contact. Basil's forest green eyes were wet with unshed tears and his short cut curly hair soft against Bucky's fingertips. "Give me an answer Sarge", he pleaded. "And dare not tell me tomorrow".

"I am going to make you a promise. I have only given this promise to Steve before", Bucky spoke with determination. "As long as you stay then I am with you to the end of the line. Now matter where that may lead. As long as you love me, I am with you to the end of the line".

Basil's grin broke across his face with the same beauty as the surrounding sunrise. He let out a wet laugh as he realised what Bucky was saying. His expression was of utter joy and delight. "I'm with you to the end of the line", he repeated. Bucky felt his face beam and they were both pulling the other close. Their chests colliding as their lips met. The kiss they shared was slow and giving. They had tied their lifelines together, for better or worse.

Unedited

I listened to the song above while writing this chapter. A lot of bastille lyrics inspired my writing of Basil. I feel like they fit him so well.