Dick Winters, his best friend. Maybe the best friend he’s ever had. Maybe, he thinks sometimes with his eyes open in the middle of the night, trying to not stare at the guy in the bunk next to his own, the best friend he’ll ever have.
Mature, angsty. War is messy, and so is Lewis Nixon. This fic captures a more complicated view of Dick’s and Lew’s relationship.
Three Perfect Skies in the Life and Career of Lewis Nixon, and One in the Memories of Richard Winters, by raedbard