The shame of it is that Mulcahy freezes. He stares at Hawkeye when he calls his name and stiffens when he's pulled in. He'd know that voice anywhere, that mop of black hair and those pale eyes, only when he last saw Hawkeye, more than half of his head had gone gray. Mulcahy bets that he doesn't look much better.
Hawkeye hugs him. Mulcahy can't tell if he's in another nightmare or not. Freedom like this feels like it should be three worlds away, not on his plate and in his lungs or fallen into his arms. Sure, there's the barrier, but this is... like being let from the barn into the fenced pasture after a long, long winter, having feared that no one would ever come to the door.
"... Hawkeye," he breathes, disbelieving. Slowly, his hand comes to rest on the man's back. As if he'd vanish again as soon as he touched him on his own. But cloth folds under his fingers, and there's body heat.
"... Oh, how I missed you," is all he gets out before he bursts into tears.
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The shame of it is that Mulcahy freezes. He stares at Hawkeye when he calls his name and stiffens when he's pulled in. He'd know that voice anywhere, that mop of black hair and those pale eyes, only when he last saw Hawkeye, more than half of his head had gone gray. Mulcahy bets that he doesn't look much better.
Hawkeye hugs him. Mulcahy can't tell if he's in another nightmare or not. Freedom like this feels like it should be three worlds away, not on his plate and in his lungs or fallen into his arms. Sure, there's the barrier, but this is... like being let from the barn into the fenced pasture after a long, long winter, having feared that no one would ever come to the door.
"... Hawkeye," he breathes, disbelieving. Slowly, his hand comes to rest on the man's back. As if he'd vanish again as soon as he touched him on his own. But cloth folds under his fingers, and there's body heat.
"... Oh, how I missed you," is all he gets out before he bursts into tears.