-1Author's Note: Whoa! An update? I surprised even me! Whoot! Well, anyways, I might as well tell you that, yes, High school is here. And yes, it's my last year (Muffled cheering). So I have tons of things to do and whatnot. I'm surprised I've updated, with what little time I've had. Yay! NOTE: this chapter has been updated as of 5/9/11.

BTW, everyone should read the stories by WETSU (I recommend both of her stories. They simply rock!), Winter-Rae (Again, I recommend all her stories. They're all so wonderful!) and JumpGirl42 (I recommend all her stories, ever single one of em'! They're awesomeful!)

Oh, and another BTW. Thanks, Rae, for helping me find my inspiration again!

Quote of the Day: "'Don't do anything stupid'? Who's he talking to? A bunch of morons who volunteered to jump out of a perfectly good airplane." - Penkala

Title: Just One Word

Rating: T (PG-13) Yeah. For language, death and probably violence. But mostly language and death.

Summary: An unknown solider. Tossed aside, she was forgotten. It would have been nice to know some one cared…And even though she was surrounded by a company of men, she was so very alone…

Disclaimer: Since these are real people, I own nothing but my characters. This story is purely fictional, and I hope no one is offended by it. Thank you.

When I say I'm sorry,Will you believe me?Listen to my story,Say you won't leave I say I'm sorry,Can you forgive me?

When I say I will always be there,Will you believe, will you believe in me?

-Chris Daughtry, Sorry

Chapter 6: Sorry

Blowing her bangs out of her face, M.J. huffed unhappily.

She was leaned up against the window, tilting her chair on its back legs in a precarious position. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and one leg jiggled impatiently as she waited for Bill to return.

He had been gone for nearly an hour, and while she was all for getting up and dragging his sorry ass back to the rubble filled house, she had been ordered to stay indoors. Why? Well, the same reason she was not allowed to participate in the assaults on Foy, Rachamps and Noville.

She was a woman.

Growling under her breath, she let her chair fall back to earth with a loud 'Bang!' and jolted from her seat. A few of the fellows that had been lounging about in their cots, playing a friendly game of cards, offered her odd looks. She passed by them without a word, swiftly making her way to where George was sorting rations in the other room.

Sighing heavily, she drug her booted feet across the carpet, to plunk her arms down on the desk that stood in front of the radio operator. "George," she whined, burying her face in her folded arms. George looked up, an amused smile on his face.

"Yeah, princess?"

She mock glared at him for a brief moment, before giving up any form of intimidation, and plunked her head back down with an audible thump. "Can you go get Bill for me? I'm bored..." She smiled sweetly, blinking her long dark lashes in a cute way.

George only shook his head, still looking entirely too amused for his own good. "No can do, princess. I've gotta sort out these rations, and make sure they get where they need to go. Isn't there anyone else you can weasel into doing your dirty work?"

"I wasn't weaseling," she protested lamely, but shrugged. "Now that you mention it..." The sound of boot steps echoed in the hall, and a couple of the men rounded the corner. Cobb, Liebgott and Martin. They each offered her a greeting and a smile, before turning to their friend behind the large desk. Smiling evilly, M.J. clung to the desk for a moment, before picking up a chocolate bar from one of George's boxes.

"Oi," he growled, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth. But other than his initial protest, he ignored her thievery.

"Hey, boys," M.J. cajoled casually, smiling brightly. "How would one of you like to do me a favor?"

The three soldiers exchanged looks, knowing that whatever it was, it was probably unpleasant. They glanced at the chocolate bar, then at George, and turned to the radio operator. "Hey, how'd you like to share that chocolate, George?" Cobb asked him quickly, his eyes shifting nervously to M.J. George laughed out loud, nearly dropping his cigarette as Vest shuffled into the room and behind the desk to help sort things out.

M.J. looked put out, and annoyed. She crossed her arms, glaring at the three offenders. "Hey, I'm not your runner," Martin protested, holding his hands up in defeat, but failing to hide his amusement. Joe and Cobb studiously avoided meeting her gaze, and Joe even resorted to whistling as if he'd done nothing wrong.

Grumbling to herself, M.J. turned and stalked off down the hall, past the bunk beds and towards the stairs. She hadn't gotten very far when she ran into a rather large, rather soft, moving object. Wincing slightly as she bounced off said object, M.J. looked up in time to see Joe as he glanced past her and exited the room.

She shook her head. Was he still angry with her? She just couldn't figure that man out. He needed to talk more. At least then, he could tell her what was wrong. Sighing heavily, she continued her trek through the rooms, until she came to the edge of the stairs leading to the bottom floors.

A sudden quaking nearly sent her tumbling down them, and the sounds of shells overhead drowned out her high-pitched shriek as she clung to the banister. A second later, nearly every man who had been at the top floor, rushed her way. Joe, who had just entered the room previous, had been the first one to the stairs. He grabbed her waist and bodily hauled her down them, the other men following as everyone dived for cover under random objects.

Being plunked down by a very un-talkative and grudge bearing sergeant, M.J. reflected on the hilarity of the situation. Here she was sitting underneath an old, rickety table with Joe next to her, trying to cover both of them with his arms. Like any of that would have stopped a very determined shell. If it wanted to hit them, it sure as hell would.

She chuckled.

Her body was squashed against the hard, cold floor, and Joe was still leaning over her as the shells rocked the old building and debris began to rain down in small bit and pieces over the cowering soldiers. The table continued to rock, and she glanced around at the men who covered their heads with their arms, chairs and anything else they could find.

She giggled.

Joe gave her a strange look. It was frustrated, annoyed, and unhappy. She glanced at him, and she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled to the surface. I really have cracked, she reflected grimly, as she held her arms around her sides and laughed until she could hardly breathe.

She laughed.

By now, the shelling had all but stopped, and the soldiers were peeking out of their respective hiding places, and offering her strange looks. Joe scooted out from under the table, all but dragging the hysterical lieutenant with him. He stared at her for a moment, laughing without a care in the world, and after a few seconds of scowling, he began to feel his lips twitch.

He smiled.

Standing there, staring at the girl he had come to know over the short span of a few months, Joe couldn't help but reflect on how odd the situation was. Him angry at her for her thoughtlessness. Her, unaware of why he was angry. And then the bombing had started, and all he could think about was getting the both of them to safety. He hadn't really cared about his grudge, or her careless words. He had just thought about saving their lives. It was really very funny, and quite, he had to admit, odd.

He grinned.

M.J. gave him a strange look, and continued her laughing, her face scrunched up and her eyes closed tight as she held her sides and chortled merrily. He glanced at her and he couldn't help the laughter that bubbled to the surface. I really have cracked, he reflected with an annoyed mental snort, as he held his arms around his sides and laughed until he could hardly breathe.

He laughed.

The two stood there, laughing, smiling and forgetting their troubles as the rest of their comrades scuttled warily around them, afraid to catch whatever they might have, and hurried back upstairs. M.J.'s laughter began to slowly subside, winding down to a smattering of light giggles.

Joe's laughter died down as well, and he chuckled one last time, his laughter fizzling out completely. He couldn't believe he'd been mad at her for something so silly. It was ridiculous really, and the past few moments, had, strangely, changed his mind about it all. He couldn't believe how a few seconds of extreme worry and panic for someone who was so close to you, could change a guy. But then again, he shouldn't be surprised. This was war, after all.

His smile did not fade as he offered her his hand.

M.J. wiped a tear from her eye as he laughter subsided completely, and dipped her head inquisitively. She couldn't believe she'd been so thoughtless about such a silly thing. It was ridiculous really, and the past few moments, had, strangely, changed her mind about it all. She felt bad for what she had said, and suddenly realized how much it must've hurt her friend. She couldn't believe how a few seconds of hysterical hilarity with a person who was so close to you, could change a gal. But then again, she shouldn't be surprised. This was war, after all.

Her smile did not fade as she took his hand.


"So, youz two have made up, I see?"

M.J. glanced up from where she and Joe had been playing cards. Joe kept his eyes trained on his hand, and then, without warning, flipped down one of his cards with a very soft, and triumphant 'ha!' M.J. whipped her head around, and groaned as she threw her cards onto the table.

"Damn! That is the - what, fourth, fifth? - time you've beat me, Joe. You're one lucky bastard." She growled as he collected his chocolate bar, a last-ditch effort from M.J. to win her two dollars from the previous games back, as his prize. Bill laughed, slapping his friend on the back as he settled into a chair between the two.

"Hey, youz two hear about that mission tonight? Our fellas is gonna cross that river, there. I feel sorry for the poor guys that gotta head out on that one. I mean, despite the shellin', it's pretty comfy-cozy here, right?"

M.J. rolled her eyes. "Yes, Bill. Despite the crippling fear of going outside and being hit by a random incoming mortar, and the fact that the buildings are falling apart, and I don't have my damn chocolate bar anymore, it's pretty 'comfy-cozy,' as you say."

"Right?"

"You're an idiot, Wild Bill..." she sighed.

Joe rubbed his chin as he stuck his newly won chocolate bar in his front pocket. M.J. made a mental note to try and weasel it back from him later on. "So, who's goin' on the mission anyways?" he cajoled, glancing at Bill.

The laughing soldier, who had been receiving none too friendly glares from the female intelligence officer, pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Let's see...Jackson, Grant, Powers, Wynn, Webster, Vest, Cobb, Jones, Heffron, Ramirez, McClung, Sisk, Garcia and Martin."

M.J. unfolded her arms, blinking in surprise. "Vest? Jones? Those two? Is that a good idea? I mean, they have absolutely zero combat experience. What if they panic? Those boys are relying heavily on secrecy. You can't have much of that if you've got a couple of hysterical new kids tagging along."

Bill nodded his head slowly. "Believe you me, princess, they've given this as much thought as they could. Jones isn't leading, thank God, and Vest should be a part of the firing squad. Him, Pop, Web, Cobb and Jones is supposed to be layin' down a base of fire. But hell, who can ever tell with these types of missions? It'll probably all go to hell and no one will know what they're doin'. Although, I bet they'll get through it, if they got Martin leadin' them. Now there's a man I'd like to be watching my back when I encountered a group o' Krauts. Damn good soldier."

M.J. and Joe looked thoughtful as they took in everything that Bill had just told them. She was quite glad that neither of them had been selected for the mission. Probably due to the fact that they had been injured recently. Sighing, she folded her arms once more, and turned to Joe. "Now about my chocolate bar..." she ventured in a falsely sweet tone.

Bill couldn't stop laughing.


"What do you think, Joe?" M.J. sat on the end of the bunk, hands folded in her lap.

"Bout what?" Joe questioned tiredly, raising his arm from where he'd slung it over his eyes after he'd claimed the bed for himself. M.J. occupied only the end of it, and had knocked his boots aside when he'd laughingly refused to move.

"About all this. The patrol, ya know?"

Joe gave her a look from beneath his arm, before he closed his eyes. "I don't think about it much. It's better not to. Gets in the way of doing what you gotta do. Don't dwell on it, M.J. It'll only lead to trouble."

"Yeah, but-"

Joe growled and reached forward to grab the back of her collar, dragging her across his legs until she lay sprawled against the wall and his booted feet. "I told you, M.J. Don't think about it. Just focus on the here and the now."

M.J. turned her head slightly to the side, watching Joe with a steady look. He caught her gaze, and the two stared at one another for a few silent moment. "So…what is the here and now, Joe?" M.J. asked quietly, her voice sounding loud in the darkened room.

M.J. leaned forward a little, twisting her body so that her face was only a few inches from Joe's. "'Cuz it would make more sense to focus on it, if I knew what it was, don't you think?"

Joe swallowed loudly, and M.J. could see his eyes shining in the dark. He parted his lips, face inching closer to hers. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest beneath her hand where it perched to keep her steady.

Their lips were only a hairs breadth away…

"'Ey, youz two! Look what I got!"

M.J. was so startled, she nearly leapt out of her skin. As it was, her and Joe's foreheads collided, and sent her head flying backwards into the top of the bunk that hovered over them. A loud clang, and a volley of swears followed Bill's exclamation, belonging to both Joe and M.J. as they roundly cursed their friend's ill timing.

M.J. rolled out from beneath the top bunk, clutching her head and practically growling under her breath. "God damn it, son of a bitch, that hurt!"

"Damn it, Bill! Couldn't you have waited a few more minutes?" Joe cried, rubbing his forehead where it had knocked into M.J.'s.

Bill looked confused, holding up a bottle of what looked like champagne or wine, and tilted his head curiously. "What? What did I do?" He paused to let his gaze rake over their flushed faces and the fact that they'd been sharing a bunk. He grinned devilishly, and folded his arms, finally putting two and two together. "Was it something I said?"


The assault that night did not go off without a hitch.

Although it did not 'go all to hell,' either, as Bill had predicted, they had lost one member of the group. Eugene Jackson was hit by his own grenade, and died not long after they brought him back across the river. It was felt deeply by all the members of the assault force, and those who gathered in the small, shaking room as mortars rained down all around them. Jackson had been a good man, and nobody wanted to see him go. It tore at Easy, and left a deep hole in the hearts of many.

The only good thing to come out of the mission was the two Kraut prisoners. Of course, under threat of death and, thanks to M.J.'s interesting suggestions, much worse, they talked. The mission was such a success, according to the higher ups, that Colonel Sink ordered a second one for the next night. Needless to say, this did not sit well with Dick and Nixon, nor did it rest well with the men, who were tired, angry, and upset at being forced to take on another suicidal mission like the one before.

Risking his own neck, Dick call for a briefing about the ordered mission, and informed the men that it had failed. To the bewilderment and astonishment of all present, he ordered them to go back to their bunks and get a good night sleep.

M.J., who had learned of Dick's heroic call from one of the returning men, had only smiled and shook her head. He was a great man, and such a stunt could have cost him dearly. All the more reason to admire him.


M.J. sat outside on a nearby truck as the troops, along with Easy Company, packed up to leave.

Her bag sat beside her on the seat, and she had her arms folded across her knees. Frankly, she was tired dirty, and ready to leave this pile of rubble they had called home for quite some time now. She hadn't gotten a chance to shower, and for obvious reasons. Could she honestly expect to take a nice warm shower in peace? Not around here, she couldn't. Of course, she had every confidence that the men of Easy, especially Bill and Joe, would trounce anyone who so much as glanced in the direction of the tent showers, but still...

Why risk it?

So she sat, dirty, disheveled, and feeling quite grimy, on the back of the truck that was bound for their next destination. She sighed, unfolding one of her arms and propping up her chin as she watched the men milling about around the city. The sound of quiet footsteps beside her snapped her out of her silent reflection on just how dirty she really was, and she turned to see Eugene Roe standing beside her, his bag on the truck beside hers.

"Howdy," she greeted wearily, watching as he offered her a soft, amused smile. "How goes it, Eugene? Need anything? I've certainly got nothin' to do. I wouldn't mind helpin' ya gather up some supplies. 'Sides," she mumbled. "I could probably get em' easier than you." She pointed at her chest. "What, on account of these things."

Eugene coughed, and blushed furiously, but his smile did not waver. "Ah, no thanks ma'am. I've got everything I need here with me." He patted his trusty medic bag, and nodded, his large helmet bobbing on his small head. "You look down, lieutenant. Somethin' wrong, if'n you don't mind me askin'...?"

M.J. smiled. His voice was really rather comforting. It was no wonder he was so good at what he did. "Nope. Nothin', 'cept the fact that I'm filthy, tired, and...just disgusting, frankly. You guys are sure lucky. I wasn't able to take a proper shower...And Joe took my chocolate bar."

The last sentence made Eugene chortle a bit, and he reached into his bag and pulled out a small, square bar. "Here ya go, Lieutenant. I can't help you fix your shower problem, but I think I can remedy that chocolate one." He held it up to her, and M.J. smiled, taking the proffered gift and breaking it in half. She handed half of it back to the medic, much to his happy surprise, and stuffed the other half in her front pocket.

"Thanks, Eugene," she muttered, leaning back a bit. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" Eugene glanced up, and dipped his head in a polite nod. "All right...How come you never call me by my name?"

Eugene looked thoughtful for a moment, before settling his elbows on the tailgate of the truck. "Well, ma'am, to be honest, I just don't feel comfortable usin' nicknames, and I know that your mother didn't name you 'M.J.', beggin' your pardon. If I knew your real name, I'd be happy to use it, if that's what you want."

The young woman could only smile with a tilt of her head. "You're a strange one, Eugene. But I like ya, so I'll tell ya. And besides, I don't think you should be calling me 'ma'am' or 'lieutenant.' It just doesn't sound proper, coming from a nice guy like you. And I like to consider us friends, don't you?" Eugene smiled a bit, as his cheeks tinted a light shade of red. "My real name's 'Mary.' But don't tell anyone I told ya. I'm not too fond of it."

The Cajun medic looked a bit confused. "How come? Mary's a nice name, and it suits you. I like it, to tell you the truth. You shouldn't be ashamed of your name. Especially when you're both so pretty." He nodded to her, and picked up his bag, heading for another truck as the others fellas began to file towards hers.

M.J. couldn't help but smile at his retreating form, as helped haul up some of the bags that the Joe and Bill threw her way. As they all settled into their respective seats, Bill on one side of her, Joe on the other, M.J. leaned her head back against the thin railing on the side of their truck.

"What's that smile all about, kid?" Bill asked, slinging an arm around her shoulder and mimicking her position.

M.J. shrugged as Joe turned his head to offer the two a curious look. "What's what about?"

The young lieutenant sighed gently, and smiled softly up at the grey and blue sky. She watched the clouds drift by as she took her time answering their questions. "No matter how dirty I get," she muttered finally. "No matter how filthy and disgusting and horrible I feel...No matter how many rocks I get in my boots, or how uncomfortable they start to become after hours of walking...No matter how matted my hair gets, or how smudged my cheeks are, or if I haven't had a nice shower in something akin to forever...No matter what happens to me, or how I feel about everything...I'm glad I'm here."

Joe and Bill followed her gaze, but their thoughts turned elsewhere. To home, to their families, and to the loved ones they'd left behind. As much as they wanted to agree, they found that they just couldn't. They wanted to go home.

"Lemme rephrase that..." The young woman murmured once more. "I'm just glad I'm here with you two." M.J. sighed, finally finishing spouting off her thoughts. Joe and Bill's attention shifted back onto the fiery young lieutenant, and, in that brief moment, they found that, no matter what they thought or how they felt, they just couldn't agree more.


A/N: Long chapter. Hopefully that makes up for my absence. The next chapter, I must warn, deals with the episode 'Why We Fight,' and with the Holocaust. They are pretty emotional for me, and I just wanted to warn everyone what they were about.

Feedback is always welcome, good and bad. But please, constructive criticism only. Thank you!