Request from 32waystoAutumn! Its angst I'm sorry and kinda short. (Thank you so much for nearly 50K Reads, holy shit that's a lot of people!! Bless you all)

It was autumn, the cool chill in the air and sun setting below the high buildings in New York. As the colder, shorter days were fast approaching Jack was becoming lonely. Having a husband in the army did that to you; But the months running down to the holiday period were the worst. Dog tags given to him by said husband dangling on his neck, he heard the crunch of those autumn leaves under his feet. Always satisfying. Everything seemed to remind Jack of his husband, like these leaves coating the ground. They were mixes orange, red and brown; the more redder ones almost matched the shade of Marks hair; which he dyed for charity, Jack knew it'd be fading back to black by now. In fact, autumn itself reminded him of Mark. The hazel of his warm coffee in his hands which looked like Marks eyes; He knew he'd get funny looks for starring into his coffee but couldn't careless, he really missed him.

Yet autumn was the month he returned, eyes darker than usual with bags under them; but smiling the same as Jack hugged him tears running down his face. Sometimes, on the bad days; Jack didn't think Mark would come home. He went away a blank canvas and came back a painting, scars littering his tanned skin, bruises on his upper arms and lower legs. Jack seemed to love him more this way, though.

Walks through windy NYC were much more satisfying, leaves crunching under both their feet as they sat at their favourite bench over looking some water, it was where Mark had asked Jack to marry him, before he left to go to war. Jack could see the change in his eyes now, some things you couldn't hide even though Mark, rightfully didn't want to go into detail about what he had witnessed, what he had lost; you could see it in those irises, grief swirling around in them. The green haired man squeezed his hand slightly as if for his own comfort, to make sure that Mark was actually here, back home and safe. The squeeze returned, he was.

"I love you." he muttered, turning to face him. Oh god he did, he loved him more than snowy forests and perfect to drink coffee. He loved him more than autumn.

;

Letting him go again felt worse than it did the first time. It felt like he had just gotten him back; safe. But he was off again flying half way across the world to fight a battle that wasn't his yet he chose to fight and part of Jack wished he didn't. Wished he could stay home, in the comfort of their double bed; under the covers and Jack in his arms sleeping the world away. But he was a man of honor and chose to fight; Jack did respect him for that, but the goodbyes were always hard.

Before letting go of his hand, they looked eyes; Marks like his coffee he had in the morning, Jacks like the ocean that would seen be in between the two. "Promise me you'll come back?" He had tried to keep the worry and fear out of his voice but he knew it was there. "I promise, Jack."

He promised, didn't he?

;

Autumn, the month he came back; The month they shared coffee together, laughed and were safe.

Autumn, the month he didn't come back.

The leaves that crunched under his fight up the gravelly path no longer satisfied him; in fact it just felt daunting and seemed to echo in the graveyard.

He wiped the leaves from his head stone, so you could see the writing more clearly.

'Mark Edward McLoughlin'

'I will never leave you; I will be gone but let the leaves on the ground remind you of me, let the breeze in your hair calm you and think of me as it starts snowing. Or when the sunrises over the trees, new branches blooming. I am your favourite season. I'm always here."

He couldn't keep his promise.

Jack hates autumn now.