A/N: Thank you Queenie and Wildflower Field for your reviews and feedback on future fics. I'm glad you're enjoying the story still and I hope you keep coming back for more.

One of the reasons I am updating so soon, is not just because I have a small moment to do so (thank you, child of mine), but because I was PMed a link to a contest for fanfics and I would love it if you guys would head over there and vote for Emmeline's Story. That's the one that I chose to submit. www{dot}inkitt{dot}com{slash}stories{slash}27778 .I appreciate your love and support (and votes, of course!)

Here's the next chapter! Reviews make for happier days!

That night, I curled up onto my cot and tried to sleep. My mind raced with all sorts of thoughts, some about my family, some about Roe and Renee, but most of them were about what I would do from this moment on.

It finally occurred to me just how jealous I had become over Roe's attentions being on Renee. I envied her. I wanted to be her. I realized that whatever Roe and I had, it must have been serious, but on the flip side, I felt like it couldn't have been that serious if he was already moving forward with someone else.

I liked Renee. She was a sweetheart, beautiful, and calming to those around her. There was no reason for anyone to not like her. She was the nicest person I had ever met. She never spoke ill of anyone. It was hard to be mad at her for any reason. But I found myself really trying to be mad at her. It was stupid of me considering that I was the reason I was mad at her to begin with. Had I just accepted the offers to restore my memory instead of fighting it this whole time, maybe it would have been me that Roe spent his times in the ruined town square instead.

I heard soft footsteps approaching me and glanced over my shoulder to see who it was. It was Renee.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she started.

I rolled over to give her my full attention. "No. It's fine. What's wrong?"

"I need some help. Anna needs some rest but I need another pair of hands," she stated.

I nodded, rolling out of the cot. "Sure thing."

I followed her through the maze of cots that held wounded men as we climbed the stairs to the main floor. I asked, "What's going on?"

"We've received word that more wounded are on their way in. I don't know how bad, but I wanted to be prepared," she said.

Guilt washed over me again. I continued feeling bad for feeling the way that I did with her. It was killing me that I felt this way towards her. I felt like I needed to apologize to her.

I didn't get a chance to say much more because the moment we reached the door to the church, the truck pulled up and they started bringing the men into the building.

Renee asked, "Do you think you can handle some of the lesser ones on your own?"

I nodded. "Sure. I'll do my best."

"Only the easy ones. Wrap them up, send them downstairs. Just trust your instincts," she told me.

She began sorting through the wounded and I had a few already starting to line up in my area.

I did what she told me to do and began just wrapping up their cuts and gashes. Once in a while, I had to dig out something from their wounds, but for the most part, she kept true to her words by only sending me the really easy ones.

One of those men walked in and hopped up onto the table without being told to. I asked like many times before, "Where are you hurt?"

The man sneered at me. "I don't want you."

I glanced up at the man, only to be met with a glaring gaze. Hate was written all over his face. I blinked at him. "Sorry?"

"I remember you plain as day. I don't want you," he repeated.

I asked, "Do we know each other?"

"Yeah. You're the bitch that got me demoted."

I stared back at him, unsure of what to say. Do I tell him that I didn't know who he was? I'm sure that it wouldn't make a difference to him.

"What's the matter? You've got nothing to say?" he spat the question out.

I responded carefully, "I'm sorry, but I don't remember you-"

"That's funny. I seem to recall you pretty damn well. I have to say though, I'm amazed you've survived this long," he taunted.

I was about to reply, but Renee stepped up beside me. "What's going on here?"

"I refuse to be treated by this bitch-"

Renee interrupted him, "If you say that word one more time, you'll have no one treat you, do you understand?"

He glared at me, but turned back to Renee. "Yes ma'am. I still would like a different nurse."

Renee looked at me with concern, but motioned the man to follow her out. I began to wonder what I did to upset that man or even get him demoted. There were so many questions that I didn't have the answers to, but I suddenly realized that I must have been a terrible person for people to hate me so. Maybe it was in everyone's best interest, including mine, never to know that person - to keep that part of myself dead and forgotten.

I had blocked out what happened with that soldier and got so into what I was doing, I stopped looking at the men who came in. They just became another soldier who needed stitched up and sent downstairs for recovery. They were no longer a person to me, but one in a million faces who needed help. I didn't know their names, and I started to become numb to the fact that these were people.

The next one who I began cleaning up was a man who had been stabbed in the leg with a bayonet. It missed everything vital from what I could tell, but there was still a chunk of the knife sitting inside the wound. I knew that I would have to fish it out and pray that I wouldn't kill the man. I set to work, praying the whole time.

"You're deep in thought," a familiar voice stated.

I didn't look up from cleaning out his bayoneted leg. "Just trying to fix you up."

"Have any luck?" the voice asked.

I asked mindlessly, "How is it that you are not in worse shape than you should be?"

"I was wearing several layers of clothing...plus I was able to counter," the voice stated.

"Lucky you," I whispered as I began fishing out the tip of the bayonet that was still lodged in his right thigh.

"Speaking of luck, have you had any?" he questioned.

"Any what?" I asked. I wasn't really listening to him, and I felt bad about it.

"Luck," he repeated.

"Luck about what?' I asked, completely confused by his random conversations.

He chuckled. "Luck remembering who you are."

I looked up and met the familiar smiling blue eyes of Fritz. My mouth fell open. I blinked at him, trying to figure out if I was seeing him or not. "What are you doing here?"

"I was picked up by your troops," he stated.

"Do they know you're the enemy?" I whispered.

He nodded. "They know. They also know that I went AWOL to get away from it all."

"So...are you a prisoner now?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Who knows. I think they are still trying to figure out what to do with me. Guess we'll find out what happens if you fix me up or if I bleed to death."

"No pressure," I muttered.

I looked up to see that Renee was finished with her last wounded and had glanced my way. When our eyes locked, she came over, almost knowing that I needed her help.

She looked at Fritz and said, "We'll need to stitch him up. Keep his tourniquet on tight above the wound. Fish out the piece and we'll close him up. I'll grab the stuff."

I nodded as she walked away to grab the supplies and I adjusted his tourniquet. I tightened it as best as I could, but apparently I tightened it so well, because Fritz groaned.

"Are you taking my leg?" he asked, tongue in cheek.

I sighed. "Sorry."

He smiled. "I was kidding."

I released my breath. "Sorry. It's just...been a long day."

He nodded. "I know. Who's your friend, by the way?"

"Who? Renee?" I asked, pointing in the direction she had walked.

"Yeah. She's cute," he admitted.

I gritted my teeth before replying, "Yeah. She is."

"You seem upset by that," he pointed out.

I shrugged. "Not upset. Just seems to be the common thought around here, that's all."

Renee had returned and we immediately set to work on Fritz.

That night, once Fritz had been fixed up and given a cot, Renee and I sat outside on the steps with a cup of coffee.

She asked, "Was that man a friend of yours?"

I looked at her. "Who? Fritz? Yeah, I guess."

"Where'd you meet him?"

"Behind enemy lines," I replied.

"Doesn't seem like anyone knows that he's German," she stated.

I furrowed my brow at her. "Except you, it would seem."

She smiled. "I know a German man when I see one."

We shared a laugh over that statement.

"I guess you would," I said.

"What do you think your people will do with him?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I haven't the faintest idea."

"What do you want to see happen to him?" she questioned.

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I want."

"You like him, don't you?" she said with a smile.

I smirked. "I don't know him."

"But there's something there," she said. "Just like you and Eugene."

When she said Roe's first name, my heart ached. Something inside me felt sad when she said it, like it wasn't meant to be spoken. I didn't call him by his first name. Maybe I did when I was me before forgetting everything, but I certainly didn't call him that now.

"What's the story with you and Eugene?" she asked.

"No story," I replied. I was surprised at how cold my tone of voice had gotten. I felt ashamed by how jealous and angry I got whenever Renee and Roe were in the same conversation.

"He talks about you, sometimes," she admitted. "He speaks of you as though you have a history."

"What does he say?" I asked.

"Why don't you want to remember?" she countered. "What are you afraid of?"

It was the same question with practically everyone that I met. I didn't know the answer anymore.

"You like him, don't you?" I asked her.

She smiled. "Yes. I do."

I stared at the ground. "I thought so. He likes you too, from what I can tell."

"Perhaps. But I don't think he likes me as much as he does you. You have his heart."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. He spends most of his time with you. If you two are starting to feel something, you should go for it. Who knows how long this war will last, and you need to find whatever happiness you can while you have it within arms reach," I said.

"Are you giving me permission to see Eugene?" she asked, clearly amused.

I looked at her. "I didn't mean for it to come across like that...I just meant that ... If you like each other, don't think about how it will impact me, okay? Just focus on you."

She raised an amused eyebrow at me. "We're just friends, you know?"

"Still. If you decide it's more-"

She interrupted me. "Talk with Anna. Get your memory back. From what he says of you, you were a very interesting person."

"I was an interesting person? What are you trying to imply, Renee? I'm not interesting now?" I laughed.

She chuckled. "Oh, yes. Quite a bore."

We laughed together on the steps as we finished our coffee.

As we stood up to head back inside, I asked, "Aren't you going to ask me what happened today with that one soldier?"

"Who? The mean one who kept calling you names?" she asked. When I nodded, she shook her head. "No. The way I see it, he's a hateful person. You're not a bitch."

"But I might have been. Is finding out who I was really worth losing who I am now?" I asked.

She looked at me and sighed. "Just because you find out who you were doesn't mean the person you are now disappears forever. You're not that person anymore. Anyone with half a brain would be able to see that. He didn't want to because he's still bitter about whatever happened back then."

I took in her words, carefully considering what she was telling me to do. I suddenly realized that Renee was a genuine person, and she would become a good friend of mine.

Days continued to go by. Days had turned into weeks and weeks into months. Every day, I would sit with Renee and Anna. We would talk and get to know one another. I learned things about their lives before the war and for some reason, hearing their stories made me more curious about mine, and I found myself reading from my journal when I was alone.

When the girls were busy being nurses, I was busy taking pictures or helping Fritz walk so he wouldn't get worse just sitting in the basement.

Fritz and I became just as close as I had gotten with the girls. He told me more about his family, how far he had gotten through the frozen forest after he left me that one day before getting caught by soldiers. He even explained how he got stabbed in the leg.

Fritz asked, "So, how much have you read out of that book of yours?"

I looked down at the leather bound journal in my right hand. "Pretty far, actually. I'm almost finished with it."

"Learn anything about yourself?" he asked.

"Apparently, I didn't take crap from anyone...unlike now," I said with a chuckle.

"Who's giving you crap?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not now, but a few months ago, I had a harder time understanding what was going on."

"And now?"

"Now? I don't know...I'm...happy," I replied.

"Happy?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I smirked. "Not 'happy' happy. Just...I think I'm fine with how things are now. I don't need to figure out who I was."

He nodded. "Good for you."

We walked a few steps in silence before he asked, "What will you do now?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He said, "Well, if you're no longer curious about who you were and trying to figure out what people want you to remember, what are you going to do now? Will you try to go home?"

I smirked as I thought about it. "I don't think I'd be welcome back home, according to the book."

"What do you mean?" he questioned.

I inhaled deeply before saying, "From what I've read, my family was pretty angry with my decision to come here...all for a job. I'm thinking they were pretty much done with me."

"Family will always be there, no matter what you do, or think you deserve," he said with confidence.

"What makes you so sure?" I asked.

"My family wasn't happy with my decision to join the fray, but I think they'll be happy to see me return and be done with it," he stated.

I wasn't convinced and I think he saw it on my face.

We walked in silence again. Fritz finally sat down on the edge of the fountain and said, "Sorry. I needed to rest."

I nodded. "It's okay."

As he sat there, I suddenly had the urge to take his picture. I put the journal on the fountain ledge next to him and raised my camera to my face, aiming it at him. He smiled at me as I took his picture.

"Should I look morose?" he asked with a smirk.

I took his picture and looked up at him with my own eyes. "You should just be you."

"Miss Finley?" a voice behind me spoke. I turned to see who had spoken. "This is for you."

The man handed me a couple of letters, saluted, and walked away. I put the letters in my coat pocket and turned back to Fritz, who was reading the journal.

"Hey!" I protested.

He looked up from the bound pages and asked, "New York, eh?"

I sighed, rolling my eyes as I sat down next to him. "Yes."

He smirked. "I figured you were more of a country girl."

"Really?" I asked, slightly stunned. I watched as he continued thumbing through the pages.

"So all of the money you make on you photographs are going to your parents?" he questioned.

"Yes," I replied.

"Interesting."

"Why is that interesting?" I questioned.

He said, "Well, you're concerned that they won't accept you back when this is all over, yet they are taking the money you're making from this whole ordeal. Doesn't make much sense for them to not take you back home when you return."

I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what to say, if anything. I just sat there and watched as he flipped through the pages of the journal before he handed it back to me, suddenly satisfied with what he had read, no longer needing more.

Fritz admitted, "I have to say that you are by far the most interesting woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting."

I felt a blush coming across my face. "Why do you say that?"

"You left home to take care of your family, and instead of doing something safe, like be a nurse back in America, you joined a newspaper to take pictures of the war itself. And don't get me started on your beautiful eyes," he stated.

I scoffed. "Now I know you're making things up."

"You're calling me a liar," he said with amusement.

I nodded. "If the boot fits."

"I've never had a woman call me a liar before," he said playfully.

"Never? Maybe not to your face anyways," I joked.

He let out a fit of laughter, before playfully tickling me. I fought him off as we continued to play.

A voice cleared beside us. When we stopped and looked up, almost embarrassingly, to see Roe had been standing there watching it all.

Roe looked upset to see me next to Fritz, but to his credit, he didn't say anything to him. He asked, "Do you have a moment?"

"Sure," I replied. For some reason, I felt embarrassed that Roe had seen the way that I was with Fritz, but another part of me realized that it didn't matter what he thought because he had clearly moved on.

We walked a few feet from Fritz before he stated, "Looks like you're going to be here a while longer."

"Why's that? What's happened?" I questioned.

He replied, "We're surrounded and until we know where we need to go to get out of there, there's no need for you on the line."

"How much longer?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know."

I nodded slowly, taking in his words. I had been sitting in Bastogne for what felt like an eternity already. Part of me missed the men on the lines, missed seeing their faces, hearing their voices and jokes. Another part of me was happy to be staying in Bastogne with the friends that I was making, but when I looked into Roe's sad eyes, I felt guilty of wanting to stay. The war was beginning to take it's toll on him and it showed.

Roe asked, "If you'd rather, I can ask that you come back to the line."

I shook my head after a moment to think. "If they feel that this is the best place for me to be right now, we shouldn't question their orders."

He stared at me for a moment before quickly glancing at Fritz. He met my eyes once more and I couldn't read the emotions behind them. He slowly nodded as he started to walk away from me. I wondered if he thought there was something more between Fritz and me. He looked hurt, betrayed.

"Eugene?" I called out to him.

He turned to look over at me, waiting for me to continue.

"Be careful out there," I said.

He gave me a half smile before heading to the Jeep that would carry him back to the lines.

That evening, I sat on my cot downstairs with the soldiers, reading the last few pages of my journal. Even though the words weren't triggering any memories, I felt like the words at least began to make sense. I had started analyzing how people treated me or each other, and it seemed like my journal explained some of that. I still had a lot of questions, but I knew that it didn't matter as much anymore. At this point in time, if I remembered who I was, great. If I didn't, that was okay too. I had decided to live my life in the present and take it a day at a time.

As I finished the page I was on, I turned it to reveal a page of blood. I furrowed my brow at the mess that had stained the pages. I wondered what had happened, whose blood it was that was inside my book, when Renee and Anna approached me.

I closed the book and looked up at them, returning the smiles they had on their faces. They looked like they were up to something. "What?" I asked.

Renee asked, "Could you come with us?"

"Where?" I asked, clearly amused.

Anna replied, "We want to show you something."

I was intrigued and stood up from my cot. "All right."

They led me up the stairs to the main floor of the church. In one of our 'operating' rooms, they had a small table set up in the middle of the room and sitting on the top were three presents.

I looked at them confused. "What's this?"

"We have a tradition here, where we open our presents the night before," Renee stated.

"Night before what?" I asked, still not following.

"Christmas," Anna replied. "Did you forget?"

"Christmas? It's Christmas already?" I asked.

Renee chuckled. "We thought you might have forgotten."

"I didn't get you guys anything," I admitted, feeling more and more guilty.

Renee shrugged. "You've helped us for the past few months and that in itself is a present enough."

I smiled at them and gave each a big hug. "Thank you."

Anna said, "Go on. Open them."

I chuckled as I approached the table.

Suddenly, I felt the floor shake beneath my feet. I turned and looked at the girls. "What's going on?" I asked.

Renee listened for a brief moment before shouting, "Every one outside!"

Anna grabbed my hand and explained as she pulled me towards the wounded men in the other room, "We're being bombed! Get the men outside!"

"What about you and Renee?" I asked, watching Renee run down the stairs to start filing the men outside.

"We're right behind you! Go! Get the men out!" Anna shouted as she ran back into the other room.

I watched as a bomb crashed through the roof in the operating room, exploding between me and Anna. I watched as Anna and one of the doctors were blown through the wall they were closest to.

I rushed forward through the dust and smoke. "Anna! Anna! Answer me!"

She stood up, coughing. "I'm fine! Get those men outside!"

I nodded and rushed to help Renee with the wounded.

I watched men hobble up the stairs, trying their hardest to get outside to safety. I grabbed one man's arm and threw it over my shoulder. "Come on! Let's go!"

Men began pouring outside, helping one another out. I managed to get the man I was helping walk outside and turned to go back in to help.

As I neared the entrance, I spotted Renee. She was standing in the foyer of the church, filing the men out the door as quickly as they could go.

"Renee!" I shouted over the explosions around us.

Our eyes locked. Within seconds of our eyes locking, and as I about placed my foot on the steps to rush back inside, and explosion went off in the same place where Renee and several others had just been standing.

The explosion was so bright, it blinded me. I felt the heat from the blast on my cold skin.

I had the feeling of flying. I heard no sounds anymore, no explosions or planes overhead.

I felt a weight crush down on top of me before I felt enveloped by the cold and darkness.

Then...nothing.