This was never something I was going to write let alone publish. I got stuck watching the Andy Griff show with my mother a while back and my muse just wouldn't let it go. Its going to be AU and at times OC. Hogan, Newkirk and Carter find that civilian life isn't always easy, wars are hard to leave behind and trouble can find you any place and any time. All mistakes are my own as my beta has been working far too much to be of use, God love her. Please be kind. Most of my medical knowledge has been picked up from experience and google. I own nothing. Hope you like.

Cyllwen

The Cost of War:Part One

"Good night, then - sleep to gather strength for the morning.

For the morning will come. Brightly will it shine on the brave and true,

kindly on all who suffer for the cause, glorious upon the tombs of heroes.

Thus will shine the dawn."
British Prime Minister Winston Churchill to the people of France - October 21, 1940

()

It had been less than a month since he parted ways with Carter and Newkirk at the Washington Air Port. Still he couldn't help but feel a little worried about the duo and the poor town they were in. Andrew had somehow convinced the Briton to come to his home town of Mayberry with him. It was most likely due to the fact that Peter had been on some pretty heavy pain killers at the time.

So when his superiors at the Pentagon ordered him to take a vacation he grabbed the car and headed to North Carolina. He told himself that he wanted to see how much of the town Carter had destroyed while Newkirk was less than able to stop him. However he knew that the truth was that he missed his team and they were the only two on the same continent as he was. Also someone had to make sure that Peter had been resting. A bullet wound and a broken shoulder was nothing to sneeze at, especially with the complication of the fever he had developed during recovery. Carter may have tied him to his bed at this point.

()

Carter shifted in his skin. Everyone was still greeting him with fond smiles and a 'Glad you made it home alright'. Various relatives attempted to get him up to speed on gossip they'd told him three or four times since he arrived home. He had long since run out of good will for these exchanges. His mind kept drifting back to the house. Newkirk hadn't come with him to the evening prayer service. It was hard enough for the Englishman to sit through even the morning service. Back spasms and pews made for an un-pretty combination. The sheer amount of damage the gunshot wound had done to his shoulder was only now really beginning to heal. The hole may have been long gone but the bones were just now at the point they were healed. The fever had set his recovery back.

It had been less than a month since they arrived in Mayberry. Carter was glad to be home and Newkirk was glad not to have to recover in a military hospital. Although already Andrew could see that Peter was beginning to succumb to complete and utter nervous boredom. His still weakened frame couldn't keep up with his want to wander and racing mind.

He knew that Newkirk felt out of place here but there hadn't been anywhere else for him to go. He needed to stay with someone till he recovered. His mother had died a few years back and he didn't have a good relationship with his father. Staying in the hospital would have driven him (and quite a few doctors) completely mad. Deep down Carter was glad he didn't have to face this suddenly odd and unsettling civilian world by himself.

"Andrew?" Barney Fife, a second or third cousin as well as Mayberry's deputy, had been talking to him when he had zoned out. "Are you alright?"

"Oh sorry boy. I'm not real awake tonight." He apologized, more of a reflex than anything else.

Barney nodded as if he understood. "No harm done. I know these past few weeks have been busy for you. I saw you took back over the store this week. Is your friend helping you?"

"Peter?" Carter smiled at the thought and shook his head. "He's still supposed to be resting. Col. Hogan will have my head if I let him help out." Peter didn't like to admit it but a walk around the town could tire him out. "Though he's offered." He glanced at his watch. "Well I'd best be getting home."

Barney didn't get the hint. He rambled on for a while until Carter just walked away. The house was close so he hadn't brought the car and it was unusually warm. Actually it wasn't warm for Mayberry but it would have been if he was still in Germany. The distance was less that the span of the Stalag and even at an idyllic pace his feet ate up the distance.

()

The night sky stretched on forever, opening up over mountains and forests of deep green trees. A stranger to Mayberry sat on the Carters' front porch in a cloud of cigarette smoke, an oil lantern setting on the table in front of him.

"Hello there." Sheriff Andy Taylor called from the sidewalk that lead up to the porch. "Would either Mrs. Carter or Andrew happen to be home?" He stopped at the top step. "I brought by the foyer table that Mama Carter ordered."

He had met the man for a few moments that Sat. He was a tall dark Englishman, pleasant enough, by the name of Peter Newkirk. He had served with Andrew Carter during the recently ended WW2.

"Nice to see you again Sheriff. Carter and 'is Mum are down at the evening prayer service." He had a cockney accent and a soft smile that reminded him of a cat that got the cream. "Andrew probably forgot you were coming." He put his cigarette out in the ash tray and stood. "I know the spot that Mum 'as been saving for it. I'll 'elp you get it inside."

"Much obliged though it will be plenty of help if you just get the door and show me where it goes. Mama would have my head if you strained that shoulder of yours."

Newkirk glanced at the offending limb. He had taken a bullet in the last few days of the war which had broken his right shoulder (in a few places). It was healed enough to take it out of the sling but it wasn't anywhere near full strength. "Right then, I'll just go get the door."

A few minutes later and a few near disasters involving Andy's back and they were once again on the front porch. Newkirk brought out a pot of tea and few slices of Mama Carter's famous chocolate cake. He also turned on the electric porch light and blew out the lantern.

"You didn't go along with Andrew and Mama to the evening service?" Andy asked after several minutes of comfortable silence and cake.

"I'm afraid the Carters are a great deal more religious than I am." He held himself stiffly due to both his injury and years of military service. "Though I probably would 'ave gone for Andrew's sake but I can't take the pews yet. They are very bad for my back."

"Yes well church pews defiantly aren't the most comfortable seats in the world." He took a tentative sip of the golden liquid. He was usually more a coffee person. Aunt Bee loved her tea but she drank some odd flowery kind that didn't sit real well with him. "This is good."

"One of the few kinds of tea Andrew will drink. I brought quite a bit with." Newkirk was already on his second cup. "'e didn't give me much of a choice about coming to the States with 'im and there was no way I was going without some tea."

"I hope you don't think I'm prying but Barney and I were wondering just how an Air force Sgt and a RAF Corporal ended up serving together. We're you attached to the same base?"

Newkirk took another sip of tea. "Luftwaffe Mannschaftsstamm und –straflager ,dreizehn, in der Nähe von Düsseldorf" The carefully pronounced German dropped his voice to almost a purr. At the confused looked on Andy's face he translated. "Air Force crew and master-criminal camp, thirteen, near Dusseldorf. Affectionately called LuftStalag Thirteen."

Andy almost dropped his tea. "A prison camp? Andrew was in a prison camp? When?"

Newkirk got a thoughtful look on his face. "I think 'e got there in 42. I ain't exactly sure, the years 'ave blurred toget'er. I got there the end of 39 mind you."

Andy was shocked. "Mama never said anything about this."

"That's cause neither of us 'ave slipped up and told 'er yet." The Englishman seemed to find it funny. He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling but nothing could hide the twinkle in his eye. "Sorry. 'owever the look on your face…" He chuckled slightly.

"I find it odd that Andrew wouldn't have told us." Andy tried to wrap his brain around the fact.

"Now I don't think it was on purpose. I think just never occurred to 'im to tell 'er."

"Well, he's always been a bit on the scattered side." Andy shook his head. "At least he's back now. We were all getting worried about Mama." He glanced at his watch. "Well I best get going. I need to be home in time to tuck my boy in."

"Good Night Sheriff."

"Oh Mr. Newkirk?" He stopped before he stepped off the porch.

"Peter or even Newkirk. Please don't call me Mr. Newkirk."

"Well then Peter. Aunt Bee wondered if you and the Carters would come over for dinner tomorrow night."

He suddenly found himself on the other end of that smile. It still looked slightly evil but there was something in his eyes that softened it this time. "We'll be there."

()

Hogan walked up to the Carters' porch. There were no lights on in the house but a lone bulb on the porch sparkled with its inner light. His long stride took both of the green painted stairs at the same time. The long porch was cluttered with furniture, enough that it made reaching the door difficult. They were all made up of wicker and decade of white paint. A heavy tea set and a plate burdened with a half eaten piece of cake sat on a low coffee table. A dozing Englishman, almost unrecognizable in a blue button up and slacks, took up the porch swing.

The Colonel turned General shrugged off his leather jacket. The breeze that had been so God-given during the day had turned cold in the moonlit hours. He gently placed it over his...friend (for there was nothing else to call him).

The usually light sleeper didn't stir. Hogan eased himself into one of the numerous available seats and helped himself to some lukewarm tea and the rest of the piece of cake. Carter's mother was a very good baker.

He had yet to overcome his fascination/appreciation for food in general. Several of the people he worked with teased him that he was going to double his weight by Christmas. Hogan admitted that he was a few pounds heavier than his 'target' weight the doctors had set for him when he got back but couldn't bring himself to consider it a huge problem. He washed the cake down with most of the cup of tea.

Newkirk looked as if he had escaped that particular vice. He had filled out a little since their Stalag Thirteen days but was still a little of the thin side. It most likely had a lot to do with the fact he was still recovering. He had met Mama Carter for all of five minutes but had the feeling she was shoving food down Andrew and Peter's throats as fast as motherly possible.

The cake was gone far too quickly so he busied himself picking the crumbs off of the saucer that Peter had used as a plate. He suddenly felt very silly being there on the Carters' front porch.

"Guv'ner?" Something had brought the Englishman back to the land of the conscious and he looked very confused. No doubt he was trying to figure out why he was napping on the porch and why Hogan was sitting in Mayberry when he lived in Washington D.C.

"Rob." Hogan corrected. "Remember?"

Newkirk gingerly sat up. "Right. Rob."

"How have you been?"

"Sore." His gaze slid to the empty plate on the General's lap. "You ate my cake." He blinked sleepily at it.

Hogan laughed. "Sorry Peter." The more familiar first name still seemed just as odd to Hogan as it did to Newkirk. It almost resisted coming out of his mouth. "I was hungry."

"You came to Mayberry to eat my cake?" Apparently he had been fairly deeply asleep, and still wasn't completely awake.

"No. I was ordered to go on vacation. Thought I'd check on you and Carter."

"Oh." Peter was trying to wake up so he could process what exactly was going on. He shook his head slightly trying to clear it.

"You alright?"

"Of course guv...Rob." He corrected himself and stood, stretching gingerly and poorly disguising a wince. Hogan was polite enough to pretend not to notice.

"Let's take this party inside." The General stood and snatched up the tea set before Peter could even move towards it.

Peter ignored the gesture, fighting down a slow burn of resentment in his chest. He never liked having to have help, especially when he felt it was unnecessary. However for the guv'ner he would make an exception, like he always did. He led the way inside, through the darkened living room and into the kitchen. He flipped on the light to reveal a large space with a questionable color scheme.

"The sink is over there." He gestured towards it location before heading to the fridge. He pulled out the orange juice and set it on table. Then he grabbed two glasses from the cupboard by the icebox.

Hogan observed that he did most of this with one hand but with a speed and dexterity that most would find surprising, if they had never met Peter Newkirk.

"So how is Mayberry? He accepted a tumbler of juice.

"Boring. Very, very nice but very, very, very boring."

"I thought boring was good."

"Maybe for you guv but its driving me round the bend. Mama won't even let me 'elp with the mending. Carter says there is no reason for me to 'elp with the shop. I play a lot of chess with a man named Gomer or his cousin Goober."

Hogan winced internally. "I sit in an office telling other Generals just how stupid they are."

"Well at least one of us is 'aving fun."

()

Carter was surprised to see that Peter had already gone in for the night. It was only 9 o'clock. Peter never slept much when they were in Germany and that was a habit that followed him to the states. When he slept he slept for a long time but he didn't sleep often.

"Peter?" He called out into the darkness of the living room. The kitchen light was on but that didn't mean that Peter was in there. He shut the door hard enough that it made a noise that could be heard throughout the house.

"In the kitchen Andrew." Peter's voice traveled through the darkness without him yelling.

Carter turned on the light so that he wouldn't trip over any furniture. His mother had been rearranging things every few days. He was convinced it was to keep him on his toes.

"Peter..." He trailed off when he caught sight of General Hogan sitting at the kitchen table. "General!"

"Rob." Hogan chided with a sigh.

"Right. Boy is it good to see you." He hearty shook Hogan's hand.

Newkirk slid his untouched juice toward Carter and motioned for him to sit down.

()

End of Part One

"Let someone else get killed!"
"Suppose everyone on our side felt that way?"
"Well then I'd certainly be a damned fool to feel any other way, wouldn't I?"
"Englishmen are dying for England, American's are dying for America, Germans are dying for Germany, Russians are dying for Russia. There are now fifty or sixty countries fighting in this war. Surely so many countries can all be worth dying for?"
"Anything worth living for," said Nately, "is worth dying for."
"And anything worth dying for," answered the old man, "is certainly worth living for."
Joseph Heller
Catch 22