Disclaimer: I don't own Inglourious Basterds.

Summary: As soon as his feet touch the familiar soil of the States, Aldo resolves to make a visit to Boston, with Donny's last request heavy in the back of his mind. AldoDonny, slight AldoUtivich, slash, oneshot

And here's yet another AldoDonny story. I love them together and I'm really sad to see that there's not many people who write about them. So I hope that y'all like this fic! Please R & R!

There and Back Again

Aldo Raine's mind is set the moment his scuffed up boots step onto American soil for the first time in years.

He's going to Bean Town.

Boston.

His jaw is firm, his eyes steely, as he makes his way past the random reporters and historians talking to him. He doesn't care, he just says a few choice curses about "annoyin' ass people" and shoves Utivich ahead of him. His huge eyes stare up at him, and the leader of the Basterds is reminded of a wide-eyed deer.

Utivich sees the determined gaze in his leader's eyes - he knows better than to call him "leader" now, but still, the title sticks. He'd never had a problem with following someone like Aldo, for some reason.

They make it past the hoards of people at the airport. They don't know where they took Landa, but they heard the gasps as they saw his forehead - Aldo wouldn't allow him to cover up the swastika. But after that, they didn't know where he went. Didn't really care.

Some of the rich reporters had rented them a car, but Aldo shrugs them off and holds up a large, calloused hand.

"I ain't gon' need that." He says, his eyes still have the flint-like quality to them as he drawls slowly.

"Lt. Raine, but you need to get home, don't you?" One of the insistent people asks, her shrill voice grating against both their ears.

"Naw, I'll get home when I get home," He says, and Utivich isn't exactly sure what he means, "I need me another plane."

"But you just got - "

"When's the earliest flight to Boston?"

Utivich looks at him with quirked brows and a confused frown marring his face as the reporter replies, "I don't think…"

"Y'all got me and Utivich that fancy shmancy car, so why can't y'all get us a fuckin' plane to good ol' Boston?"

Thirty minutes and countless F bombs later, Aldo has two tickets in his hands and he looks at Utivich curiously, as if contemplating whether to give him one or not. A rare, genuine smile quirks his mouth, and he hands the shorter man one of the two pieces of ticket fare. Utivich reaches out and grasps it, looking at it with large eyes.

"You comin' or not?" He asks him.

Somehow, Utivich doesn't think it's a question. It might just be a subliminal order from his lieutenant.

So, he boards the plane.

Not that Utivich really thought he had a choice in the matter. But, in a way, he's happy that he is with him at the moment. He's not exactly sure what they are going to Boston for, but he remembers all too well that Donny Donowitz was from there.

Sighing, he looks out of the window, large eyes taking in their surroundings. Strange how they'd been on American soil for the blink of an eye and now they were on some other plane, headed for the town of Donny's birth. Not that Utivich didn't want to go, he was just tired and frankly, very confused as to why Aldo was doing what he was at the moment.

Aldo sits next to him, a tired look visible in his eyes, and he constantly keeps looking at his large duffle carryon bag at his feet. The shorter man briefly wonders what could be inside the bag, but then decides better than to ask the man. He turns his attention to the flight attendant, who is parading up and down the aisles in the shortest skirt he's ever seen on one of these women. He is reminded that it had been far too long since he's seen a woman, but he finds it hard to care for some reason…not with Aldo sitting next to him.

Sighing, he leans back into the plush seat and closes his eyes, trying hard to find unconsciousness quickly, but to no avail. His mind was a flurry of thoughts, and he couldn't find peace of mind to let him sink into sleep.

He groans as he tosses and turns in his seat, trying desperately, but still nothing.

"Utivich." Aldo's husky voice sounds from beside him.

He opens his dark eyes and meets his lieutenant's gaze with his own, "Yeah?"

"Calm down." Aldo says, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, "It ain't like we goin' back to war."

Utivich nods, but in a way, he thinks what they're about to do may be worse.

They land several hours later, and it's one of the strangest feelings in Utivich's life.

He doesn't know what to make of it. He knows that this little visit to Boston has something to do with Donny, but he can't really place a finger on what. He has vague ideas, small inklings about the heartache to come, but he can't really figure out for the life of him…

Aldo calls a cab, and the two jump into the car, the man looking at them curiously, as if he recognizes them. Which he most likely does, being as they were one of the huge reasons the war was over and so many people were saved. Aldo shows the man a scrap of tattered paper with an address on it and they are off.

The Tennessee native looks over to Utivich and gives him a rough smile. Poor guy. He doesn't know what they are doing exactly, and it seems that he's about to have a nervous breakdown for some reason or another - his large eyes are darting around with that deer-like look that makes the elder man wonder how he managed to scalp one hundred Nazis.

But then he remembers that Utivich is tougher than he looks, and his mind is settled. It's just the unknown and familiarity of what they're going to do that has the other man's stomach in knots.

For Aldo, however, it's another story.

"If I die…tell my Ma and Pop what happened. And…give them this."

Aldo's fingers still over the large duffel he carried back from overseas, and he grips at the strap with a kind of reverence as he watches the buildings and whatnot pass them by. Before he had formed the Basterds, Aldo had barely been out of Tennessee, and not he was seeing a whole different place - a place where someone very important had once lived. Someone that was…too important to Aldo, if that made any sense.

He feels Utivich's eyes on him and looks over at him, noticing that the smaller man was glancing at the bag, and the slender fingers that clamp so tightly around the shoulder strap that the tendons are plainly visible, and the knuckles are white.

"You alright?"

A smirk forms on his lips as he lets go - reluctantly - of the bag.

"Sure."

"You're a terrible liar, Aldo."

The smirk turns bitter as Donny's words from so long ago fill his head.

I can't get away from ya, huh, Donny? Not even when you're dead.

They arrive at a quaint house, beat down, but still with charm. Aldo eyes it appreciatively, as if it was what he imagined Donny's house to look like. His eyes crinkle in a grin of nostalgia, and he adjusts the duffel bag on his shoulder.

On the porch are two wooden rocking chairs - something that Aldo finds a little odd to be in the heart of Boston; they look like something that would have no trouble fitting in on his Nana's porch back home. In a strange daydream, he pictures Donny sitting on in the rocking chair, drinking a glass of sweet tea and rocking back and forth.

And then he sees himself beside the image of Donny, and almost laughs at the ridiculousness of it all.

Utivich looks at him curiously as the cab driver insists there ride was free, and pulls away. Aldo looks almost in a trace - a happy trace, and it is something that the shorter man is unnerved by.

How things have changed.

Aldo sighs to himself before taking a step forward, then, noticing the lack of footsteps behind him, turns around to see that Utivich stands exactly where the taxi let him out, unmoving, and his eyes alight with realization. The Southern man gives him a strangely sympathetic smile as he walks back to him and places a hand on his shoulder, as if the very gesture should make him understand why they are here.

It's a while before Aldo voices anything, any reason as to why they were here, but the words he says put everything into perspective for Utivich.

"If I had told you that if I died in the war, that I wanted you to give my Maw and Paw somethin', wouldn't you grant my last request?"

Utivich just stares before he nods mutely.

But there's something else in the elder man's eyes. Something that Utivich hadn't seen in so long. The war had been just grizzled soldiers, tough as nails and showing no emotions, but the flicker of something…indescribable that flashed in his boss's eyes was something that he had never seen in his eyes before.

"So, there ya go. That's why we gotta visit the Donowitzs'." Aldo says, his gaze steady, but emotional at the same time. It was an odd look, on his gruff features. "Now don't you go a-cryin' on me, alright?"

Utivich smiles at him, and replies that he wouldn't cry, though he was awfully tempted to, strange as it was.

So the two remaining Basterds walk over to the front porch, and climb upon the raggedy, creaking steps, their boots seeming frightfully close to breaking through the old wood. Utivich notices that Aldo had once again taken to gripping the strap of his duffel bag with dreadful intensity before he knocks on the door with the other hand, the sound poignant and booming in the surrounding area despite the constant moving cars and such from around the house itself.

There's shouting from inside, and then a crash, a curse, and a shout of pain that sounds like it came from a child. Then, the door opens.

The woman standing at the door is shorter than Aldo, and just barely taller than Utivich. Her dark hair is pulled back into a loose, low bun, and there are slight gray strands appearing along the sides. Her face is attractive, though, and she her dark eyes widen with understanding as soon as she sees the two Jewish soldiers on her doorstep.

"Mrs. Donowitz?"

She nods; a smile forms on her full lips and she wipes her hands on her apron, "Lt. Raine, I presume. And Mr. Utivich." Her smile is sad, though, and both of the Basterds can sense it. "What do I owe this visit?"

"Ol' Donny boy." Aldo says, giving her a proud grin. And it's the first time that Utivich has seen him smile like that since they got back.

Mrs. Donowitz smiles at that and steps aside, opening the door wider, "Please. Come in."

Aldo and Utivich make their way into the room, and they look about, not so discretely. The living room is the first thing they see, and it is messy. Two children sit in the room in front of a television set, watching the slightly fuzzy picture, and a large golden retriever lays at their feet. They look to be about ten and seven respectively, and their dark heads of hair and large brown eyes remind them too much of their fallen comrade. The girl is the oldest, and her hair is cut just beneath her chin. The youngest, a boy, is leaning against the silken fur of the dog, while the girl cradles the animal's head in her lap, stroking gently. They both look up when Aldo and Utivich enter, and their eyes are red and puffy.

The news must've broken early.

"Please, sit down." Mrs. Donowitz says, her eyes kind and considerate despite the pain she must be going through.

Aldo takes the invitation at once, wandering to the open couch and sitting down, plopping the large bag at his feet. Utivich, however, lingers awkwardly, but then sits down on the couch.

"Julie?" A deep voice booms from behind her. She turns and gives the man a smile, motioning for him to sit down as well. The large man that must be Mr. Donowitz steps into the light and Aldo is taken aback at the version of an older Donny. The resemblance was uncanny. Though he got those large brown eyes and dark-as-night hair from his mother, clearly, he got his size and height from his father.

Aldo smirks as he thinks that must be what Donny would look like in the future.

Would have. He corrects himself bitterly.

Mr. Donowitz walks over to the television, adjusts the rabbit ears, and the picture clears, before he sits in the recliner just adjacent to it.

"We're sorry…for your loss." It's Utivich that speaks first, and that surprises Aldo. He had been so quiet since they had got on the plane to Boston, and it was a slight shock to him, for he expected the shorter man to be especially quiet once they got to the Donowitz household.

"Thank you." Mr. Donowitz says, and gives the small lad a smile. The little girl sniffles at their feet, and they both look down at her.

Aldo then looks at the small girl, and sees that she is wearing a baseball cap that is too big for her small head. The brim is falling over her eyes, shielding them from everyone's sight, and he can see the name 'Donny' written on the back of the hat in black marker. The little boy leans over and hugs her tightly.

Aldo smiles and then looks over to Donny's father. "Your son. He was an amazing man. He never gave up. Beat Nazi's skulls in. Died fightin', I know that much."

Utivich looks at Aldo, a wondering look on his face. There's a tender gaze in his eyes, one he wouldn't have caught if he wasn't looking. Like he was remembering fond times spent with Donny, which is what he should be doing right now as well. Instead, his mind is filled with sadness for his family and his thoughts of missing the larger man.

The head of the household smiles in nostalgia, "Sounds like Donny."

Aldo hears a stifled sob from Donny's mother and he closes his eyes, trying to not feel anything at this moment. The way it stands, Aldo would sure as hell like to be able to cry. But not now. He can't squirt a few tears here, so he must be strong. His eyes open and find a spot above the fireplace, where a photo of Donny, grinning wildly with his bat over his shoulder - less caked with blood and carved with names than Aldo was used to - and the very cap his sister wore on his head. Around that large picture are smaller ones, Donny and a few guys, Donny and his family.

"I'm glad I got a spot to put this…" Aldo says, bringing the duffel to his lap and unzipping the bag.

It's silent in the room as Aldo pulls out the one thing that Donny had bestowed upon him with such simple instructions, so long ago.

A baseball bat, with just the tiniest flecks of blood still left on the wood, rests in Aldo's large hands. He treats it with reverence, as if it is something particularly holy, and he hears the gasps from the family around him, as well as Utivich's. Names are carved all along the length of the wood. All the names of the Basterds, his friends at home, his family. There are slight dents and cracks in the wood in certain places, but that was to be expected. The handle is worn, and as Aldo moves his fingers down to the handle and he can almost feel where Donny's fingers had gripped…

"It's Donny's bat!" The little girl chirps up, and Aldo sees the first sign of life in her eyes since they entered the Donowitzs' home. She looks at him with her big brown eyes and all Aldo is reminded of is Donny…

Aldo grins lazily down at her before he moves to place the bat on the shelf that overhang above the fireplace. It fit perfectly below the picture of Donny's smiling face, seemingly completing the whole shrine. "There y'all go."

Mrs. Donowitz looks at Aldo questioningly, a wondering look in her eyes, "What…"

"Donny used that bat." Utivich spoke up, a light smile tugging on his lips, "Against the Nazis, ya know."

Mrs. Donowitz smiles at the shorter man, and Utivich was taken aback for a moment at how she wasn't shocked when he almost had blatantly pointed out that the "Bear Jew" had beaten the brains out of Nazis with that very baseball bat. Maybe it was hereditary, Donny's inherent taste for violence.

Mr. Donowitz laughs heartily as the two Basterds seemed to tense at the situation, "Well, that's Donny alright. He did have a temper."

Aldo laughs, but the sound was forced and hollow, "Sure did."

The little boy sits up, and grins, showing that both of his fronts are missing. "I'm gonna be jus' like Donny!" He clenches his fists and everyone in the room laughs.

"Robbie…" Mrs. Donowitz says, her eyebrows quirked, but worry in her eyes. Obviously she didn't want to think of losing her other son to war, of all things.

"Not yet, little guy," Aldo says, surprisingly friendly with the small boy. He places his hand on top of the boy's ruffled, messy crown of black hair and scratches back and forth. "Someday."

He smiles up at Aldo, and he can almost see Donny as a child in front of him.

"Let's play baseball! That's what Don woulda wanted!" The girl shouts, standing up, the cap falling further and further down into her face with every movement, "He wouldn't want us mopin' like a bunch of chumps."

"Eliza!" Mrs. Donowitz scolded, her eyes stern yet caring, "Company."

"That's alright, ma'am," Aldo says, "We ain't exactly gentlemen either."

"C'mon!" Eliza says, gripping Aldo's hand, while Robbie grabbed Utivich's and tugged him with no problem out of the door. "There's a bat in the shed, and a ball. And Donny has bases set all up. We can teach you!"

"Eliza, maybe they have to get somewhere else…" Mrs. Donowitz says, her face kind and caring, yet tired as well.

"No, ma'am, we don't." Aldo interrupts, although he didn't know much of their schedule himself.

"Do you mind?" She whispers.

"Not at all." Aldo grins, using his Southern charm to make her feel more comfortable.

He is then led outside in the backyard, where Utivich already holds a bat in his hands, looking at it as if he had never played the game before in his life. Little Robbie looks up at him and tries to explain, but it is obvious that Utivich gets nothing of it. He spots Aldo and a grin comes across his face while Robbie races to get Aldo and Eliza.

"You're on my team; I'm pretty sure that guy's never touched a bat before." Robbie jabs a small, dirty thumb in the direction of Utivich, and Aldo's booming laugh resonates around them.

The sound does weird things to Utivich's heart, but he pretends not to realize and goes back to staring at the bat in his hands.

This is how bats are supposed to look - dirty and worn from repeated use at the plate. Not from blood of Nazis and grime from the landscape overseas. Utivich sighs as a wind plays with his hair.

The very same wind blows over to Aldo, who is listening to the temporarily happy young boy chatter on. It billows over his clothes, cooling the sweat on his body, and tousles his already messy hair.

The breeze blows over his face, and for a brief second, he feels Donny's lips against his one last time, almost like he was saying thank you.

End.

And there's my second attempt at an Inglourious Basterds fanfic. It seemed to take forever to finish, but I managed! I really like this one. It's longer than my other one, and I really hope to get some more feedback for this one as well. I love to hear people's opinions on my work, and I would really love to hear what y'all have to say about this one. I enjoyed writing this one very much.

Oh, and if you noticed, the pairings were very…subtle. It wasn't an all-out angst-fest or anything. Yeah, it was sad, but it wasn't…I dunno. Girly? Cuz these guys are not girly. Okay, that was stupid. Anyway, I hope y'all liked this and I really would enjoy some feedback.

Thanks again!