Title: Homecoming
Fandom: The Crimson Field
Rating: PG
Length: 372
Summary: For Major Edward Crecy, invalided home from the First World War having lost both legs, the homecoming was not as sweet as he had hoped.
Very many thanks to kizzia for all her suggestions.

Coming home was sweet.  For the first time in many months his soul lifted at the sight of the green fields and the trees in leaf.  He could hear the skylarks singing, without straining to listen through the noise of the guns, and there were butterflies over the meadow flowers.  Then his thoughts soured as he realised he could no longer walk unaided in the fields and that the freedom of movement, which before he had taken for granted, would never again be his.

Lying in clean, pristine white sheets, freshly laundered was a joy.  The bed was large, comfortable and bug-free.  Sleep should be a pleasure, yet the dreams that returned every night, causing him to wake, screaming and not knowing where he was, robbed him of that.  As did the solitude, for these were no longer shared fears, since no-one at home understood the nightmares.

He had looked forward to being back with Adelinde and the children for most of his service and was delighted to see them all happy and the boys growing apace.  They had been excited to welcome him home and he had rejoiced in their love.  But the boys hadn’t understood when he would not talk about the war and encourage their fantasies about heroic actions and tales of bravery.  And Adelinde grew frustrated, unable to see why he could not simply put the past year behind him and move forward as if it had never happened.

Meeting up with old friends had been a pleasure.  He had smiled when they waved to him as he was wheeled into the room.  Yet the pleasure had quickly dimmed as he realised how few were there.  Granted, some were at the front, but many who had once fought there were now lying beneath its soil.  And the best he could do was share a silent understanding with those, like him, who had been invalided home.

Each dawn is sweet as it brings promise of a new day and a new life, but by sunset the day has turned sour.  He cannot leave behind his old life and he wonders if, in truth, it would have been better had he, too, been laid beneath a cross in Flanders fields.