Turn Your Face to the Sun
by gaerwn

"Turn your face to the sun and shadows fall behind you."

There was a quiet strength in the way she moved. Mavis Gallagher was a woman who carried the weight of a war on her shoulders; it bore her down, it weighed on her mind, and it sought to keep her weak but she still woke up every morning and greeted the day with a quiet desperate hope. When the sun shone, she turned her face to it and basked in God-given warmth, if only for one simple moment. As quiet as her brother was boisterous, she carried it well, steps ever confident and head held ever high. LeBeau was the first to seek her out, in the early months of 1945, after he had made his way toward London, and as the rest of the men under Hogan's command had slowly gathered together, they have pulled her under their collective wing. There was no way they'd work so hard to make certain Peter came back just so he could berate them for not taking care of Mavis for him.

They saw him in her: in her quick bright smile when something caught her off-guard, in the way her hands said more than her words ever did, even something so simple as the color of her hair. For most of them, it drew them to her and her presence became a reminder of the man they worked with - and on behalf of now, as they tried to bring the last wayward members of their crew home for good.

For Andrew Carter, it was all the things that made her different that had him hovering near her. It was the way she sat so silently still, staring at her hands clasped in her lap. She would draw a breath then, after a few moments, and refocus on the world around her - and just move forward, doing whatever needed done. It was in her smile - so rare, so precious - that he found it so easy to grin right back at her. A fierce spirit, weighed under by uncertainty and fear and grief, shone so brightly in those short moments that Andrew found himself wanting and hoping to see it more and more often.

So he spent more and more time with her and told himself it was because he wanted her happy and healthy and whole when Peter finally came home.

But it was moments like this, sitting in a park together, when he noticed that her eyes were bluer than the sea sparkling against the cliffs and prettier sight besides - and when they glistened with unshed tears, he wanted to find some way to ease the burdens she carried. Then, suddenly, it wasn't just about getting Peter home for Peter's sake, but hers, too, and Carter's heart seized up a little at the thought.

They sat on a bench together. It was a cool day, but the sun shone, sparkling brilliantly in the puddles left by recent rain. Mavis had her coat pulled close about her, arms crossed tightly, and Andrew watched her with some concern.

She was falling into a mood again. She was always able to pull herself right back up out of it but he hated to see it. Hated to see despair start to take root in such a slight frame.

It just wasn't right. His Ma would have enveloped the woman in a fierce hug, murmured nonsensical words of encouragement, and never let go. Andrew didn't think that was for him, but Mavis certainly looked like she could use it.

"What if he doesn't come home?" Mavis verbalized the fear that they all held. Since Hogan had come back and then left again to find his wayward cub, it was a fear they had all held close but never given voice to. That might make it real and Andrew sputtered in instant denial as soon as the words left her mouth.

"You can't go thinking like that!" He held up his hands, waving them back and forth as if to swat the very words out of existence.

The look she gave him told him in no uncertain terms that she was thinking that, whether he gave her permission or not.

Andrew swallowed hard in the face of it. "I mean..." He trailed off, right hand still waving ineffectually. "Look, the colonel's not gonna let anything happen. When he gets it in his head to get something done, boy, you better know he's gonna get it done. I'll tell you, those Krauts won't even know what hit 'em... 'cept they will 'cuz they've seen it before but I'm not supposed to really talk about that. Just you know that..." He trailed off when he noticed that her lips were quirking upward and he lost his words in the face of it. "He'll come home," he finally said.

"You have a good bit of faith in your colonel."

"Sure do." Carter nodded, the point, in his mind, driven home.

But Mavis had other points to make. "I don't know him."

It took Carter a second to catch up to that one. "I guess it's kinda hard to have faith in someone you don't know, huh?" He pressed his lips together. "But you know Peter."

A far-off look took over her countenance again. "I wonder."

"But he's your brother."

She canted her head, gaze finding his face again. "It's been six years since I've seen him last, Andrew. I know how much war changed the people here. It had to be worse there."

Carter's eyes narrowed as he frowned. "What's one word you would use to describe Peter?"

"There are a lot of words I could use to describe Peter," she said, her smile sudden and bright - and Andrew laughed, because even now, teasing a member of their put-together family seemed good and right. Mavis sobered, but that twinkle of amusement still remained in her eyes. "Resourceful, I think. When it comes right down to it, he's resourceful."

"That," Andrew said, "hasn't changed."

She looked at him - really looked at him - and slowly nodded. "I miss him." She looked down at her hands, clasped still in her lap. "Terribly so."

"He'll come home," Andrew said, determined to be a bright spot of hope for her. "You'll see."

Mavis shook her head.

"Now come on." Andrew reached out, fingers lightly brushing against her arm. "You're not giving up on him, are you?"

Something flashed across her countenance: a tightening of her jaw, wrinkling of her brow, life in her eyes and Andrew was glad to see it. She shook off his touch and faced him. "Of course not." Then, as quickly as it came, that flash of indignation was gone. "I just..." She shook her head and the sorrow that she held onto seemed to physically weigh in on her. "I need him to come home."

Andrew was silent for a good long time in the face of that. At first, on the surface, it was just a sister's concern for her wayward brother - but then something else occurred to him. Mavis vocalized it almost as soon as he thought it.

"I can't lose someone else, Andrew. He's all I have left." She scrubbed her face, sighed. "When Eddie was killed, I had Abigail. I could be strong for her. But then..." Her voice caught.

Andrew, near without thinking about it, reached for her hand and took it in his own. Newkirk hadn't exactly taken his niece's death in stride and he'd never met her; Andrew couldn't begin to think what it was like for Mavis.

Mavis took a breath. "I had to be strong for Peter. I wasn't going to let him come home to nothing." She looked at him and, for the first time, Andrew could plainly see real fear written in her face. "If he doesn't come home... Andrew, what if he doesn't come home?"

There were no tears; just a stark question ringed with fear. Andrew squeezed her hand. "We'll get though this." We. He meant it. He'd started doing this just for Peter's sake; now it was for hers as well. Not a betrayal of Peter's friendship, as he had told himself once. Just opening up a little more room in his heart. Ma would have been proud; your heart don't run out of room she'd say over and over again. Andrew was pretty sure this was what she meant by it. "The colonel's gonna do everything he can. We're helping out from this end, too." Andrew couldn't help but think he could do more across the Channel, but the colonel's orders had been explicit.

He took her hand in both of his and turned to face her. "Six days ago, we knew where he was and we knew he was alive. You said it yourself: he's resourceful."

One corner of her mouth quirked upward. "Keep reminding me of that, would you?"

"Anytime," he said.

She leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "Thank you." Her breath was warm, lightly caressing his ear. She settled in next to him, quiet and worried but whole.

And Andrew's cheek tingled. He thought of his friends across the channel, trying to get home. He thought of his family waiting for him back home and his friends here in London, working to make it possible that everyone they knew made it home safe and sound.

And he thought of the woman curled up against his side, with eyes bluer than the sea itself and a soul that shone as brightly as the sun. He was doomed. Newkirk would come home and Carter would be a dead man. He found that it didn't frighten him quite as much as he thought it might.

He looked up at the sky and took a page from Mavis' book: he basked in the warm light for a moment and sent a silent prayer upward - and southward.

Come home soon, guys.

The End

Author's Note: Well, that one followed pretty quickly on the heels of the last one. I do promise I'm also working on the longer stories these things allude to (as well as a couple things in other fandoms, if those who are following those stories see this.) I just wanted to get this moment with Carter and Mavis out there.