The wounded German soldier they had left behind last night was screaming in agony from across the river. Webster couldn't see the German but he could definately hear him. He didn't know when the wounded man had started, exactly, he could've been screaming all night if Webster thought about it hard enough. For a fleeting moment, Webster feels pity for the man and even though he's supposed to hate the German's he still has one shred of humanity left inside him that he's been trying to hold onto since the beginning of the war.

But he soon found out that your humanity doesn't amount to shit when a German has a gun pointed to your head and then you have a decision to make: his life or your's. Kill or be killed. In this war you have to assume that every single German is your enemy regardless of pity or mercy. Because in this war you're not allowed to have either.

Webster walked up to the makeshift barricade closest to the riverbank and hoisted his rifle up on his shoulder to where Cobb and Martin stood, observing the other side of the river to see who was making that awful racket. They hardly noticed him when he stepped out in front of them. Webster looked out beyond their post and scanned the riverbank on the opposing side. He couldn't find the German soldier.

"Maybe we should put him out of his misery," Webster thought out loud, wondering if he should of said it at all.

"Fuck his misery," Cobb bit out and walked away with Martin following close behind.

Webster felt his stomach clench when another feral scream broke through the, otherwise, silent camp. He didn't realize that Jones had followed him here and hadn't noticed that the young Lieutenant was standing next to him. Webster nearly jumped when he caught Jones with the corner of his eye. He was too unnerved. He stayed in that damn hospital too long and got too familiar with it. Webster knew he was losing his touch little by little. He just wanted to go home.

Last night's patrol had been a success for what it was worth and they would go on another tonight with, hopefully, the same outcome. Only this time Webster hoped they wouldn't lose anyone. There was another scream and Webster closed his eyes to the noise to make it the only thing that existed around him. He knew that scream would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Whenever there was a pause in the pained yells, Webster would see that boy and his father he had come across before he got hurt. The father had been more than willing to share what little food he had and in return Webster had given his son some chocolate. The man said his son had never tasted chocolate before. Webster's heart swelled just thinking about it.

What happened to that boy and his father?

Jones cleared his throat and Webster's eyes automatically shot open as he was snapped back to reality. Webster peeked over at him to see the young man looking straight ahead, gaze drifting across the sparkling water. They stood in silence for a short moment until Jones decided to ask Webster something that's been eating away at his mind for some time now.

"Why do they treat you like that?" Jones asked meekly.

"Like what?" Webster inquired, not looking over at Jones to give him an acknowledging side glance. He didn't hate the kid, he just felt that it was none of his business.

"Since I've been here the men have been treating you like some fresh-faced replacement," Jones stated matter-of-factly.

"You're one to talk," Webster huffed.

"I was trying to compliment you," Jones sighed, looking at the side of Webster's face until the man cocked his head to give him an amused half smile.

"You have a funny way of doing it," Webster chuckled, letting his guard down just a little and softening at the lack of superiority.

Jones blushed and looked away slightly, suddenly becoming bashful under Webster's charming little smile. The young Lieutenant couldn't deny for one second that Webster was ridiculously handsome despite the whole world going to shit because of this damn war. But then again it seemed as though Webster had been gone for a long time if the way the others treated him was anything to go by.

But that's why Jones had brought the subject up in the first place. Upon arriving Jones had seen the judging glares and the barely masked scrutiny from the men in Easy Company. Jones heard everyone's whispered opinions in just a day and he knew that rumors spread like a virus. He didn't by rumors alone. Jones learned from the source that was more than plentiful with knowledge, because over time the truth gets distorted and it changes the shape of a room. The color of a flower.

"And what makes you think I'm not a replacement?" Webster asked curiously.

"The way you speak to your superiors and it's pretty obvious that you've been in battle before," Jones answered truthfully. "You seem... very experienced."

"Is that so?"

Jones nodded, blinking repetitiously.

"Some men believe that I abandoned my Company and they're mad because I didn't make an effort to come back. Like I was using my wound as an excuse to get out somehow," Webster said bitterly."They think I'm a coward and they practically blame me for every loss they've had since I left. They look at me like I pointed a gun to all their heads and pulled the trigger, point blank. They act like I didn't exist until yesterday," Webster mumbled shaking his head.

"At least you're not the only one," Jones tried with a half hearted smile, obviouslyreferring to himself.

Webster sighed. "Yeah, but I'm not-"

Webster looked over at Jones' fresh expectant face and suddenly decided against saying what he was going to say. How was he going to finish that sentence anyway? I'm not new? I'm not a replacement? I'm not you? Jones seemed to have heard enough to consider what Webster would've said next and he hung his head down.

He didn't mean to hurt the kid's pride and bring him down a peg like everyone else had, like everyone had done to Webster as well. Webster ducked his head down to look Jones in the face, giving him a full smile this time, hoping it would brighten the Lieutenant's day and stopping him from moping around camp. It could seriously affect the mission tonight. Everyone needed to be clear minded.

Jones glanced at Webster forlornly and he cursed himself for getting carried away in those big blue eyes. He couldn't stay mad at Webster anyway. Webster had stuck his neck for him just so he could have a spot in the mission last night and in any case, what Webster was going to say wouldn't be far from the truth anyway.

"You would've made a great soldier," Webster said ardently, clapping a warm hand on Jones' shoulder.

"Thank you," Jones whispered.

They both looked back to the river and Webster noticed they were standing a little closer now, but he didn't mind it one bit. Jones was staring and Webster could feel his gaze burning through his skull. His eyes darted over as if to try and catch Jones in the act, but Jones didn't look away bashfully. Webster's breath caught in his throat and he want to ask "what?" but he couldn't.

"Are you going to do it?" Jones asked, pointing his head in the direction of the screaming.

"Would he do the same for me?" Webster smirked.

"I wouldn't count on it," Jones grinned. There was a pause in between the laughter and suddenly Jones' demeanor got more serious. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"I don't want to go, but I will. To take so many risks when the war is practically over is absurd. It's not worth losing more men over," Webster responded. He felt safe enough to speak his mind around Jones because he seemed like a trustworthy person.

"Yeah," Jones said in a far away tone. "Poor Jackson. Killed by his own grenade."

"Fucking tragedy," Webster remarked dryly and if Jones caught on to the obvious sarcasm in his tone, he didn't comment on it. "What about you?"

Jones huffed a shy laugh. "I'm probably alone on this one, but... I'm sort of hoping we still go tonight."

"Really?" Webster asked with a quirked eyebrow. "Still have something to prove, huh?"

"Well..." Jones blushed. "Last night I just felt... there. I wasn't very helpful and if things got bad I would've just slowed everyone down. I didn't even fire my gun," Jones chuckled ruefully. "I want to do things differently tonight. That's all."

"You shouldn't feel the need to prove yourself to anyone, Lieutenant."

"Neither should you, Private," Jones countered with a sly smile. "Besides, I'm not trying to prove myself to those men. I'm proving to myself that I am worthy in combat. That I can be useful."

"Yeah, well, that won't mean much when you're dead. I'm sorry to say it, but there's a chance that we might not make it back tonight. You have to consider that as one of the alternatives," Webster lectured lightly, showing the inexperienced Lieutenant some sliver of worry and care.

"I know," Jones murmured.

The young Lieutenant went quiet after that for what seemed like a long time, but it wasn't very long at all. Webster could feel the nervousness radiating off of Jones and he wished he could soothe the young man in some way. He knew Jones wasn't uneasy about what he said, it was something more fundamental than that.

Jones' rifle slipped down his shoulder a little and he unconsciously shrugged it off to let it fall to the ground, causing Webster to look at him incredulously. Jones didn't seem to notice what happened and Webster bent down to retrieve the gun for him, handing it to Jones with a worried look on his face.

"Are you alright?" Webster asked, watching a shaky hand reach out to grasp the barrel of the M1.

"Yeah," Jones brushed off half heartedly. "I was just thinking about stuff."

"Like?" Webster inquired curiously, finding a reason to talk and get the Lieutenant to open up more.

"All the stuff I haven't done yet."

"Maybe I can help you do one of those things," Webster offered enthusiastically. "Maybe it'll make you more relaxed for tonight."

"I don't know," Jones said, cringing a little.

"Come on!"

"There's nothing you can do."

"Sure there is. What's something you want to do that you've never done before?"

Jones huffed out a sigh and rolled his eyes. Webster was being a pushy stubborn bastard but goddammit... he couldn't help but find it terribly endearing of the other man. He thought of all the things he's always wanted to do but was finding no luck. All the things he thought of required something he couldn't get in this shit-hole.

"Unless you have a rollercoaster, a hot air balloon, and a road trip across America then I guess I'm shit out of luck."

"That can't be everything. You must be holding out on something," Webster said, accentuating the word 'something' as he quirked up both of his eyebrows up into his hair line.

Jones blushed and paled all at once, giving Webster a skeptical look of nervousness and regretted that he let Webster inside to cheer him up. There was one other thing he hasn't done yet but it something that Jones couldn't just for and if he did ask and was rejected... that would just make everything ten times worse for him. If word got around that he was... No. No, no, no.

"You can't tell anyone," Jones warned with a stern tone, eyes big like saucers like a deer caught in headlights. Webster nodded and Jones had to trust him despite his better judgment. "I'm a..." Jones exhaled loudly and ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair. "I'm a virgin."

"Okay," Webster said dumbly, feeling a flush creep along his arms and causing goosebumps to prickled in it's wake. He knew where this was going but he'd rather play dumb until it was a confirmed and actual fact. If Jones was asking what Webster thought he was asking then that means...

"Nevermind," Jones dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Forget I said anything."

Jones turned away from Webster feeling thoroughly embarrassed by the whole situation and had every intent to drop the subject to be done with it but Webster wouldn't let it go away. Webster offered to help him and he'd stand by his word until he had fulfilled Jones' needs.

"I said I'd help you, right?" Webster asked rhetorically, trying to get around the young Lieutenant to look him in the eyes. "And since we're not in America and I don't have a hot air balloon or a rollercoaster that only leaves one option."

"You must be joking," Jones gushed skeptically when Webster got in front of him and turned him around so that he was backed up against the small barricade. Jones was caged in by Webster's arms and he shivered at the closeness. "I don't even know your first name."

"David," Webster shrugged.

"Henry," Jones murmured with a small smile.

"Well, Henry, I'd be very honored to take your virginity," Webster said in all seriousness, pressing closer to Jones out in the open where anyone could walk by and see them. "If you'll have me, that is."

"Are you sure about this?" Jones asked out of breath after he was stripped bare before Webster's eyes.

They had managed to sneak off to a building where no one would find them even if they tried to. Luckily there was a cot long forgotten on the ground where Webster could lay Jones down and ravage the young man at least a little comfortably. Webster was in the middle of shedding his uniform when Jones voiced his concern.

"We could die tonight. Everyone deserves a final request, right?" Webster grinned despite Jones' hesitance.

"I don't want to die tonight," Jones whispered, sounding like Jackson who pleaded to live just last night.

"Tell you what, if you make an effort to survive tonight and when we get back to the states... I'll take you to an amusement park to ride a rollercoaster," Webster panted hotly as he rested his forehead against Jones'.

He didn't know why he was panting and he didn't know why he was already hard. Webster hadn't even been touched yet. He's never even done anything like this before but it couldn't feel more natural to him. Jones squirmed beneath him and bit his lip in anticipation.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Jones questioned incredulously.

"Yeah," Webster said dumbfoundedly with a stupid grin spreading across his face. "I guess I am. If that's okay with you."

"I'd like that," Jones breathed against Webster's slightly parted lips.

They were breathing in eachother's pants and it made every gust of air thick, making the heat spread along their bodies and gasp for more pure air. Before Jones knew it Webster was pressing his lips to the Lieutenant's and claiming his mouth for what it was worth. Jones was opening up and moaning freely into Webster's mouth.

Webster had his hands braced on either side of Jones' head, slowly lowering himself down so that his body was flush against the young Lieutenant's. They were practically writhing in between breathless kisses and by the time they were rubbing up against eachother, Jones was almost too far gone to stop.

At the last moment Webster pulled back and stared down at the man before him who looked positively debauched and flushed all over. Webster bent down and sucked a bruising kiss into the dip of Jones' collarbone making the young man buck up into the touch, trying to feel it more because he couldn't get enough of it.

During all the teasing Jones never realized that Webster had already began to work him open for their impending intercourse. Jones was shaking from arousal and pain and excitement, moaning and thrashing against the dirty cot that supported him. He never felt anything like this before and Webster seemed to know what he was doing, or at least had some vague idea. But man... did it feel wonderful.

Jones wasn't sure what Webster was using to loosen him but it seemed to do the trick just fine. When Webster was working three fingers inside him he unconsciously gripped the cot by instinct from the sudden sharp pain. Webster eased off a little and used his spare hand to grip Jones' leaking cock.

Jones practically fainted from the contact and when Webster started stroking he nearly lost it altogether. The fingers inside him began thrusting again and all pain was instantly forgotten as soon as something made a shockwave shoot up his spine and back down to his groin. He had clue what was going on. Either Webster was a genius or it was just dumb luck.

Suddenly all contact was gone and Jones was whining like a child throwing a tantrum. Webster grinned down at him and bit his lip as he lined himself up at Jones' entrance, putting a sweaty hand on Jones' stomach to steady himself. Or was he steadying Jones? He didn't think much on it though because he was too dead set on being inside Jones.

Webster pushed himself all the way inside with surprisingly little effort and as soon as he was fully seated in Jones he let out a shaky breath. Jones' mouth hung open so he could whimper and mumble obscenities as Webster began to thrust in and out of him smoothly. Jones clenched around Webster's cock so hard that he could feel the other throbbing inside of himself. He couldn't think of anything more sexy.

"How does it feel?" Webster gasped as his body took him over, mindlessly thrusting on it's own accord. Jesus... Webster's never felt anything like it before. "Does it hurt?"

"I th-think I can feel-" Jones broke off into a series of moans that made him twist and curl his toes. "I think I can feel your pulse."

Jones' face was twisted into what was either pain or an extreme amount of pleasure and Webster was hoping for the latter. After all, he didn't want to hurt the Lieutenant. Jones was almost too tight around his cock and it made him force himself into the young man on some of his deeper thrusts.

Webster dipped down and planted kisses along Jones' throat, veering off course a little to peck at the bruise he had sucked into that lily white skin just moments ago. Jones had his head pointed up and off to the side, revealing it to Webster as if he was surrendering himself fully just for him. Webster licked a line across a tendon and bit down into the flesh that secured it. Jones was having a field day by the sound and look of it.

The private's hips snapped into place with the Lieutenant's and they fit so perfectly that it would've been a crime NOT to fuck this kid silly into next Tuesday. And the sounds Jones was making... holy fuck. Webster could come from that alone. No man was supposed to be that sexy in the sack. Jones moaned and writhed so much that it was almost to the point of being considered feminine.

Webster pulsed even more and he knew he was close to coming, as long as Jones kept up what he was doing. Webster broke away from the patch of skin he had latched onto and let one hand drift down to stroke Jones off in time with his thrusts. His other hand tangled itself into Jones short regulation haircut and mashed their lips together once more in raw passion.

Jones pulsed in Webster's hand as he came with the intensity of all of his jerk-off sessions combined. Nothing could beat the orgasm he was having at this very moment and soon he felt Webster shooting inside of his too tight channel that was still clenching with the aftershocks. They moaned helplessly into eachother's mouths nipping and biting at lips as they came down from their orgasmic high.

And in the moments that followed after, Webster held onto Jones until it was time for them to report to the debriefing. Neither of them said a word because there was nothing left to say.

The next day a wave of relief was washing over all of the men, including Jones. It seems the young Lieutenant didn't really need the second mission to prove himself since he was being promoted to first Lieutenant instead of second. And not only that but Winters had also been promoted. He was a Major now and Nixon couldn't be more proud of his friend even as he tossed the oak leaves at Winters so carelessly.

Jones was shipping out somewhere else that Webster wasn't going to and he felt his heart drop just a little bit. Yesterday might have been about comfort or a soldier helping another fellow soldier but the promise of a date was not an empty one. Webster intended to keep that promise until it was fulfilled.

He walked up to the First Lieutenant and smiled warmly at him, remembering just how shameless Jones could get when stimulated properly. Webster had been Jones' first and for that he felt he had a certain right over his marked territory. Both marked internally and externally. He saw Jones fidget with his collar a little and Webster couldn't contain the huge grin that spread across his face like wildfire.

"I guess yesterday was all for nothing, huh?" Jones asked bitterly.

"I wouldn't say nothing entirely," Webster said ardently. "I still meant what I said. I intend to take you on a proper date when we get home."

"How?" Jones inquired desperately, not wanting this parting to be goodbye for good.

"I'll find you," was all Webster said.

"In case I don't see you again, I just wanted to say thank you... for everything," Jones murmured with a hint of sadness in his voice at the possibility of not seeing Webster again.

"You're welcome, sir," Webster smiled as he saluted the superior officer.

And then Jones was gone and Webster had a platoon to report to. This time he was helped as he hopped onto the back of the truck filled with his fellow soldiers. His company. Easy company, the finest and best. Soon they moved out as bombs started to sail over from across the river but the Germans were too late for a rebuttal to have a severe impact. No one ever spoke of the mission they never went on after that day.

And if anyone asked, they'd just say that you had to have been there to understand.