It certainly wasn't the first time they'd gone to West Virginia for the weekend and been dragged to church. It was just the first time Zane could remember Ty not putting up a fuss about the idea.
West Virginia hadn't been Zane's first choice, not by a long shot. It was Memorial Day weekend and also Ty's birthday, and while there wasn't anything particularly special about turning thirty-eight, it was his first post-deployment birthday. Zane had been racking his brains for an appropriate place for a weekend getaway, until Mara had called and cheerfully informed them that if they didn't drag their asses up to the house voluntarily, she would hunt them down and grill them alongside the hamburgers.
Zane wouldn't put it past her. He'd been trained by some of the best agents the FBI had ever produced, survived things that would have killed a lesser man, taken down men and monsters and barely managed to avoid becoming one himself. He was six foot four and tended towards the free weights when he went to the gym. But he'd also watched Mara Grady cheerfully and without apparent effort skin and butcher an eight-point buck to serve it for breakfast.
They'd dragged their asses up to West Virginia.
And now here Zane sat, wearing a suit but thankfully no tie, between a mullioned cathedral window and the man who dearly and inexplicably loved and wanted to marry him. The church seemed even more full than usual, although that could have just been Zane's imagination. He didn't think so, though. Normally when they went, the Gradys were able to have a pew more or less to themselves, but today they were crammed in with another family, a couple around Zane's age and three people who were probably their children, the oldest of whom looked to be in his twenties and the youngest of whom couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen. In fact, it was so crowded that there wasn't room for Amelia to sit on the pew herself. Zane had her perched on his lap, partly because he remained her favorite—much to Ty's chagrin—and partly because he was on the end of the row, so he could make a quick exit if she got fussy. It wasn't likely, she was extraordinarily good-natured, but just in case, it would be nice to have an excuse to leave.
Glancing behind him, he couldn't spot an empty seat in the building. Jesus, even Easter Sunday wasn't this crowded.
Zane slid his eyes over to Ty. He was sitting rather stiffly, his back ramrod straight. It might have had something to do with their activities of the night before; since it was actually Ty's birthday, Zane had stayed up until midnight for the express purpose of being the first one to wish Ty a happy birthday, and they'd stayed up another hour or so celebrating. It might also have had something to do with the fact that Ty, probably because it was Memorial Day weekend, had chosen to wear his dress blues to church, which meant that he was more or less at attention and also meant that Zane had a hard time keeping his eyes off of him. But at the same time, Ty'd been uncharacteristically quiet most of the weekend.
Carefully—he was never sure how Ty would react to these things in public, or at least in certain public places—Zane reached over and placed his hand on top of Ty's. Ty didn't look at him, but he turned his hand over and squeezed it hard. Zane squeezed back, but now he was seriously worried. This wasn't normal. At all.
Was someone in the family sick? Sidewinder? Was Ty? They'd promised no more secrets and no more lies, after nearly losing one another in New Orleans, but that didn't mean Ty wouldn't wait to tell Zane something if he didn't want to ruin the weekend. Or if whatever was wrong was something that stemmed from whatever had gone wrong on his deployment, which he still wouldn't talk about.
Zane forced himself to swallow back the panic. He was being ridiculous, he chided himself. Ty was fine. Everyone was fine. Ty wouldn't keep something like that from him.
“Please rise for the opening hymn, number 511, 'O God of Earth and Altar,'” the worship leader intoned.
Zane rose with everyone else, Amelia on his hip, and tried to juggle both her and the hymnal until Ty gently took it from his hands and held it open to the appropriate page. Zane wanted to kiss him, but held himself back, considering their surroundings. He knew Ty didn't need the hymnal; the publication date on these was 1952 and Ty'd had pretty much the whole damn thing memorized since he was about twelve. But he appreciated him holding it for him.
The service was…fairly typical, as far as Zane could tell. No reason for it to be as crowded as it was. The hymn, the responsive reading, the scripture…all of it was exactly what Zane expected out of one of these services. So what the hell was going on?
When it got to where the Children's Moment normally would have been, instead of the worship leader inviting the kids forward, the preacher stood. He glanced towards the pew where the Gradys sat, lifting his eyebrows briefly, before turning back to the congregation at large.
“Tomorrow is Memorial Day,” he said, his voice ringing out sonorously through the room. “A time set aside every year to remember those who have given their lives in defense of our freedom. The ones who served and didn't make it home. The ones who have passed on, but never truly left us.”
There was a choked sob from somewhere down the pew, and Zane honestly couldn't have said whether it was a Grady or someone from the other family. And then, suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Why Mara had insisted they come visit. Why Ty was sitting so stiffly. Why Deuce kept bunching the fabric of his trousers into his fists. Why Earl, for the first time since Zane had met him, looked his age.
Memorial Day. Ty was fresh from a deployment, and considering he still didn't talk about what he'd done over there, Zane had no way of knowing if one of his men hadn't made it home. He had to be thinking about Eli Sanchez, too, on the fourth Memorial Day he was on the roll of the fallen. But more importantly for the entire Grady family, it was the first Memorial Day since Deuce's wedding.
Since Richard Burns' death.
“At this time,” the preacher continued, “I would like everyone in the congregation with a loved one who has passed on who served in the Armed Forces to please rise.”
The Gradys rose as one. Deuce looked badly shaken as he did so. Beyond them, the family at the other end of the pew also rose; the oldest son started to, hesitated, and then sat back down, his head bowed and his fists clenched. Zane guessed there was a story there and wondered what it might be.
Glancing behind him again, his gut twisted as he realized that fully half the congregation were on their feet. Elderly men in full uniforms, still standing as straight as age would allow them; white-haired women, gripping canes and the backs of pews for support; younger couples and families, obviously remembering parents or grandparents. One young girl, who couldn't have been more than ten or eleven, cradled a teddy bear in camouflage in one arm and held up a framed photograph of a smiling serviceman in the other. Zane had to look away.
He probably could have stood for Burns, but Livi wasn't either. He'd known Burns better—of course he had—but not as well as Ty. Not nearly as well as Ty. And he still hadn't quite forgiven him for…well, everything really. He didn't deserve to, and more to the point, he didn't want to.
A pang of guilt shot through him as he realized, for the first time, how grateful he was that he didn't have to. Had things been slightly different, had fate not smiled on him and decided to grant him a mercy he didn't deserve, he might have been standing right then, trying not to fall apart. Assuming he'd survived, which honestly wasn't guaranteed.
He'd barely survived losing Becky. He wasn't sure he could survive losing Ty.
The preacher let a moment of silence pass before thanking everyone and telling them to be seated. He gave a short but heartfelt prayer for the fallen. After the “amen”s had died away, he glanced at the Grady pew again and nodded, then sat down.
Ty and Deuce stood up.
The congregation was silent as the two brothers edged their way out of the pew and walked to the front of the church. Deuce was pale as a sheet, wearing the same suit he'd worn for his wedding. Ty stood at attention, his face the serious, almost expressionless mask it always was in his dress blues. It was Deuce who nodded at the choirmaster, who nodded to the accompanist, who began to play.
Zane didn't recognize the music, but that didn't stop the thrill that ran down his spine when Ty began to sing. “Dawn is breaking the stormy night…”
It was a haunting and beautiful song. Ty sang the first verse solo, describing a group of soldiers preparing for a battle, giving their lives for a life. His voice rose as he reached the end of the verse, where the soldiers recognized the American flag flying overhead. Deuce joined on the chorus, the two of them singing in truly beautiful harmony.
To freedom, justice, and liberty, it's the Stars and the Stripes forever…
Ty dropped out and let Deuce sing the second verse on his own. This was a more concretely Christian verse, talking about the crucifixion and stating that he was freed by His scars and His stripes, but Zane was still thinking about the first verse.
Still thinking about Ty.
Ty and his brothers, crawling through the dark, knowing that if they died their families would never know how or why. Ty having to be held back as he watched a man he probably hadn't even realized he'd loved until that moment die to save them. Ty doing everything he could to get home to Zane and knowing it still might not be enough.
Zane swallowed hard. He wasn't really a religious man anymore, but he definitely believed, and as Deuce and Ty began the second chorus, he sent up a prayer of thanks that the twenty years were up, that Zane would never again have to watch the man he loved go somewhere he couldn't follow, that nobody would ever ask them to sacrifice the other for their country again.
That Zane would never have to stand up at this service without Ty.
The song ended. The music died away. There was a moment of silence, probably immediately preparatory to the congregation applauding, assuming any of them could. In that moment, Ty turned smartly on his heel towards the American flag, squared his shoulders, and snapped to attention as he saluted the flag.
The sight took Zane's breath away, just like it had at Lydia Reeves' funeral two years before. Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he turned in time to see first Chester, then Earl, also both in their uniforms, rise to their feet and copy the salute. Amelia peered over Zane's shoulder, eyes wide, and he didn't have to turn around to guess that everyone else in uniform was doing the same thing.
Ty held the salute for a minute, then lowered it, pivoted back to the front, and saluted the congregation—unsurprising, as some of the men out there probably outranked him. Probably. Nor was Zane surprised when they all saluted him back. Or at least, he thought they were saluting him back.
It was hard to see through the blur of tears.
Ty and Deuce slowly walked back to the pew. Zane stood up to give them access. As Ty passed him, he saw the glint of tears in his eyes, and he couldn't help himself. Amelia notwithstanding, the fact that they were in view of the majority of the congregation be damned, Zane reached out and pulled Ty into a tight hug.
Ty returned it, that was the shocking thing. He clung to Zane hard, his hands gripping the back of Zane's suit jacket, the same way he'd held onto him when he first got home from deployment. Zane could feel him shaking slightly and wanted to keep holding him until he stopped, but he knew this wasn't the time or the place. Instead, he slowly and carefully eased back. Ty did, too, and they resumed their seats. But as they did, Zane reached over and laced his fingers through Ty's. Ty clutched him back like he might never let go.
The rest of the service was honestly a blur to Zane. They sang another hymn, which he thought might have been “America the Beautiful”; there was a scripture lesson, and a sermon, and then they sang “Amazing Grace” as the closing hymn, which was terribly unfair. Then came the benediction and the blessing, and the choir—thirty strong at least and still not sounding as good as Deuce and Ty's duet had—sang a closing song while the acolytes carried the Light of Christ out the back of the church. As the song reached its end, the preacher bellowed from the back of the room, “And all God's children say—”
“Amen,” the congregation replied in unison. The service was over.
Normally the Gradys left immediately after church was over, or—if Ty and Deuce had their way—slipped out during the last hymn to avoid getting swept up in the crowd. Today, though, Mara shoved them all towards the doors that led to the main part of the church, and they had no choice but to obey. Mara Grady with a bee in her bonnet was a force to be reckoned with.
“That was beautiful, Ty,” Zane said quietly as they followed the crowd down the hall. He wanted to pull Ty aside and kiss him senseless, but in the first place, he wasn't about to do that in Ty's church, not knowing how the congregation might react, and in the second place, they wouldn't get out of the throng without serious injury at this point.
Ty kept his eyes locked straight ahead of him, and Zane would have wondered if he'd heard except that he said, his voice so soft it wouldn't have been audible if Zane hadn't been listening for it, “I had to do something for them.”
“I know.” Zane shifted Amelia to his other hip and brushed his hand discreetly against Ty's lower back.
Ty reached for Zane, pulling them together, then managed to angle them out of the stream of people and to a turn-off for another hallway, where nobody was standing. For a wild second, Zane thought Ty was going to kiss him, but instead he simply pulled him into another tight hug, clinging to him as his shoulders began to shake.
Zane hugged him back, Amelia trapped between them as he felt his fiance fall apart. Felt him mourn. For Richard Burns, for Eli Sanchez, for Chas Turner. For every ghost that had filled the sanctuary and every tombstone he'd stood beside. Tears soaked into Zane's shoulder as Ty let himself grieve, let himself remember.
And Zane held him, silently reaffirming what he'd promised from the moment he'd given Ty his heart. That he would be there. No matter what.
That they would remember together.