Hey everyone! I apologize for another ridiculously late update! Ugh I was recently awarded an internship with a huge fashion magazine in town so I'm so busy with that and writing article upon article. Thankfully I'm only taking 13 hours this semester and am only three semesters away from graduating and one semester away from my French minor! I promise I'll start writing more, this story is coming to its end sadly though...ugh...but hey we still have visits to the Captain's wife and all of that so maybe I can make it a few chapters more. I'm reading it coming to an end.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the SPR plot, but I do own my own characters and my own part of the story.

Thanks again for reading everyone! You guys are the best! xoxx ~Carolyn

Brooklyn trudged through the front door half an hour passed two in the morning, her eyes sore and puffy from crying. The night was silent, there were no sounds of bombs whistling through the sky or bullets cracking in the distance. Her mother was sound asleep on the family room couch, the days newspaper folded out across the table, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Mom?" Scarlett startled awake and jumped up.

"Oh! Brooklyn, you scared me sweetheart..." She caught sight of her daughter's red eyes and took a deep breath, calming her racing heart. "How did it go?"

"It was all right..." The tears pressed into her eyes again, "Or not so well. Mrs. Goldstein is like a zombie and Rachel is trying her best to handle it." She was silent for a few moments. "Rachel said some of the stitches had split...they hadn't opened the box yet before she and her mom came...Rachel lost her lunch, her mom fainted...it was the most gruesome wound I've ever seen mama.." She held out her hands and examined them, as if the blood of her best friend had stained them dark red.

Flashback:

Brooklyn removed Hannah's hands from the wound and immediately looked away. The wound was far too deep for her to work on, the carotid artery and had been completely severed. Hannah squeezed her hand, unable to speak because of the ghastly wound, "Hannah, I can't go home without you, I've been with you since we were babies, don't you dare die on me! I love you so much baby girl," she whimpered as Hannah's eyes said everything.

Brooklyn shook her head, "Mrs. Goldstein just isn't the same...she didn't say anything about Mr. Goldstein either."

"Poor Marlene...I will stop over there tomorrow and see if there's anything I can do to help Rachel."

Brooklyn only nodded.

Scarlett hugged her daughter and stroked her long hair, "Go get some sleep baby girl, you've had a long day."

The young woman pulled back and wiped her nose with her hand, "Yes ma'am."

"I love you Brook."

"I love you too mama."

A few moments later, she quietly closed her bedroom door behind her, slowly crossing the worn boards. Richard was passed out on the edge of the bed, his arm hanging limply, fingers brushing the floor. Brooklyn smiled, gently brushing his brown hair out of his closed eyes. "Baby?"

"Yea it's me."

"You ok?"

She perched herself at the end of the antique, white, wooden bed, biting her lip until it drew blood, "Yea...I'm fine."

He could hear the deep melancholy in her quavering voice and sat up. He reached towards her, his musky scent inviting her in to his loving embrace. She held up a hand, "Let me change."

He simply nodded and she slipped into the bathroom. She set to slowly removing the pale yellow dress and looked at herself in the mirror. The scars on her arms and face still looked fresh and pink, Jackson's silver cross hung around her neck. The cool metal glinted in the faint moonlight streaming through the bathroom window. She could hear his soft voice calling out to her in the darkness but every time it was silenced by the horrendous explosion of a tank shell. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, "Such a waste," she whispered. She pulled the silky white nightgown over her head and removed the necklace, hanging it from the mirror.

Richard lay awake, his hands folded beneath his head, eyes tracing the designs etched into the ceiling by years of rain, snow, and wind. "Hello."

Brooklyn slid a soft hand across the expanse of his chest, stretching out, her head eventually coming to rest just underneath his chest. She kissed his collarbone and he shivered with delight and ecstasy. He looked up into her eyes and pulled her down on top of him, his lips capturing hers in a warm kiss. "I love you baby."

"I love you too..." He smiled and kissed her again, but this time with more passion and desire. She closed her eyes, slowly losing herself to his warmth. "I need you," she whispered and at that they slipped away into a world of love and pain.

Jamie lay in bed, the covers pulled up to his ears, eyes examining his room for any trace of an enemy who would never be there. His thoughts constantly drifted off to the young woman he had left behind in France, those sky blue eyes haunting him like a ghost from the battlefield. She was caught in the middle of the bloodbath while he was safe-and-sound in his warm, comfy bed. It didn't seem fair. He had read and reread her letter over a hundred times and the writing had begun to fade; he wondered what she was doing at that exact moment.

Was she hiding under a bed with Mercedes and the others as bombs rained down on them? Was she caring for the wounded and dying men, her gentle words offering a small amount of comfort? He wanted to go back and bring her home with him, even if it meant going back and fighting again.

He would kill a thousand more Nazis if it meant keeping her safe and having her with him. He glowered at the thought of her being in any sort of harm. He ached for his rifle to be back in his hands, he yearned for the sounds of far off explosions and gunfire. His heart wrenched as he fell asleep, thoughts all returning to her.

Mellish made his way towards the entrance of Auschwitz with the rest of his unit, his eyes staring straight ahead, veins full nothing but pure hate. Only a week before, the Red Army had liberated the death camp, sending messages to the Americans informing them of the mess they were about to walk into.

The ground was frozen solid, snow and mud buried the dormant railroad tracks far below the feet of the soldiers. A cold wind cut through their uniforms causing them all to grimace. The men were silent as they walked, not a whisper could be heard. Within a matter of minutes they stood before the giant brick entrance; Sergeant Randall put a hand on Mellish's shoulder, "Are you ready son?"

"More than ready."

The sight made him stop in horror. There were several people sitting on the ground in circles, but they looked more like the legion of the dead than human beings. Mellish squeezed his eyes for a moment, the tears stung his eyes, "Why are there still so many here?"

The Sergeant sighed, his breath coming out in large, white puffs, "Many of them have no where to go. We've tried to supply as much food and blankets as possible but there just isn't enough.

"I've never seen this many people in one place."

People. His people. Jews.

They were all silent; bones were visible through translucent skin, faces were as gaunt as skeletons, dark rings were bruised beneath eyes.

"There have to be hundreds of bodies stacked in that building just beyond the guard tower, the Krauts must not have had enough forewarning before the Soviets burst in. That's just the beginning. God knows how many bodies are left over from the experimental wards."

Stantley grit his teeth, the force almost driving him to a headache, "What kinds of experiments?"

Randall sighed, "Follow me."

Brooklyn awoke to a sharp chill in the house, this January was particularly harsh. The mountains were capped with feet of snow and the white flurries were constant. Richard propped himself up on his elbow before falling right back down and pulling the large blanket over him, "Hot damn it's fucking cold!"

"I k-k-know." She pulled a large fleece blanket around her shoulders, "Mom m-must not have put a fire on yet." She bent down and turned on her small room heater.

"Brooklyn! Telephone!" She nearly jumped as her mother's voice rang up the stairs.

"Yes ma'am! Coming!"

She rushed down the stairs nearly running Shiloh over, "Woah! Slow down there Seabiscuit!"

She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him before answering, "Hello?"

"Hey Brooklyn, James Ryan."

She looked down at the floor, she had written him with her phone number in case he or his mother ever needed anything but she never expected him to call. "Hey kid, how've you been?"

"I've been all right, I forgot how hard farm work was in the winter."

She laughed softly, "It's about the same here."

"Yea...were you going to go see Upham in Pennsylvania?"

"I was yes...we were all supposed to go up a couple of months ago but with my dad and Hannah's funerals...I just couldn't leave."

There was silence for a few moments, she could hear him struggling in the background with tears, "I-I'm sorry. We buried my brothers."

She swallowed a lump in her throat, "I'm sorry James..." She waited for another few moments, "Well...I'm thinking we'll be going soon...would you like to join us?"

"I would very much, yes."

"Alright, I will write you when the time comes."

"Ok...it's good to hear your voice again Brook, I look forward to seeing you again."

"You too, tell your mother I said hello."

"Will do, bye."

"Goodbye."

Jamie walked down the stairs, straightening his tie and pulling his coat on, "Ready."

Brooklyn nodded, pulling her hat down over her ears, "Let's go."

They piled into the car; her mother, Shiloh, Rachel (Shiloh's Rachel), and Reiben sat in grave silence.

Rachel's hazel eyes brightened as she caught sight of her friend, "Hey Brook."

"Hey Rach."

Shiloh kept his fingers laced with Rachel's as she chatted away with Reiben, casting fiery glares the New Yorker's way. Richard took no notice, happy to lighten the mood with stories from back home.

Jamie slid into the driver seat and looked over at Brooklyn, "Off to Fort Logan."

She nodded, "Off to see daddy."

The drive went by seemingly quickly, the mood in the car sobering again as they pulled up to the large cemetery. Jamie drove up and down the rows, hundreds of new plots were marked with fresh snow. "One more Jamie."

They stopped in front of a long row of headstones, one standing out in particular. The letters were etched deep and painted black. A cross marked his Christian religion.

James A. Greene. US Army. WWII. August 16,1888 - February 8, 1944. Beloved Father and Husband.

Brooklyn closed her eyes and didn't hold the tears in, gently placing her own small bouquet of Pansies and Iris' in the small cup, "I miss and love you daddy..." Shiloh stood there, his hands balled into fists, eyes full of anger.

Jamie quickly wiped a tear away and sniffled, trying his best to keep his dignity. Scarlett bent down and placed a bouquet of blood red roses next to her daughter's flowers, "I love you my dear. I will see you again someday in a place far better than this one."

Brooklyn reached over and took Shiloh's hand, giving it a slight squeeze, catching him crying silent tears.

Reiben stood off, watching them mourn. He wanted nothing but to hold Brooklyn. He folded his arms across his chest, saddened by the thought that he would never meet the father of the woman that he loved, never have his permission to marry her the traditional way. He watched as Brooklyn said something to her mother and picked a few flowers from the crimson and violet assortment.

She stood and left the group, eyes scanning the passing grave markers. Reiben followed closely behind as they walked on for a few minutes. She stopped in front of a single grave beneath a dead tree the star of David etched into the top. Hannah M. Goldstein.

Brooklyn's lips began to quiver and then she completely lost it. A couple standing before a grave just a ways off stared at her as she fell to the ground and began shouting and pounding the stone with her fists. "Son-of-a-bitch! Goddamn Krauts! I'm so sorry Hannah, so so sorry, I should've been there! It's all my fault!" Within a minute, Reiben had her pulled tight to him like he had so many times before and buried his face in her hair. The snow began to fall again, dusting them in pale ivory, surrounding them in a peaceful silence.