A/N: Thank you YourEyesAreFullofHate, Guest(s), and Queenie for your reviews. I love reading them.
Here's the next chapter. Enjoy.
I don't know how long I cried in the shower or how long Roe had been waiting for me to come out, but he was sitting in the chair in the room, waiting for me to emerge from the bathroom. I looked at him with an apologetic glance, feeling uncomfortable for how long I had been.
He stood up and asked, "Are you okay?"
I forced a smile. "Fine. Thanks."
"Did the clothes work out-"
I cut him off. "They're clean, which is better than nothing. Thank you for getting them for me."
He gave me a short nod before motioning to the bench that sat at the foot of the bed. "Let's take a look, shall we?"
I swallowed. "What are you going to do?"
"I have to make sure that you're okay. Colonel Sink said that he was worried with how much blood was on your coat...wanted me to make sure you were properly treated," he stated calmly. I hesitated. He asked, "What's wrong?"
I felt my heart race as I admitted, "I'm afraid."
"I'm not going to hurt you," he started.
I waved the remark aside. "That's not why I'm afraid." He furrowed his brow, not understanding me. I added, "I'm afraid of what you'll see. I'm afraid of how you'll see me afterwards..."
He padded over to me. "I'm not going anywhere. There's nothing that I can see that will change my opinion on you." I hoped that he was being sincere. Reluctantly, I walked over to the bench and sat down. Anxiously, I started to pick at the skin on my lower lip with my fingers, eventually ripping the skin.
Roe grabbed my hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I'm right here. It's okay."
Sighing, I tried to relax as he started to help me lean back. Once I was on my back, he lifted my shirt gently, exposing my freshly washed body to the air. He saw all the cuts and bruises, inhaling sharply. He gave me a quick glance filled with worry, but remained silent. He set to work examining the wounds. When he was finished looking, he stated, "I've got to dress them."
I nodded and said, "There's a jar of ointment in the bathroom that someone gave me to treat my wounds. It actually works rather well."
He shook his head. "I think I should use what we have instead. You don't know what's in that stuff."
I was about to argue with him, but chose not to. I figured that I could save the ointment and use it later if I needed to. No sense in causing a fuss now.
Roe set to his task at cleaning and dressing the wounds.
The awkward silence that befell the room made me worry about Roe and me. I decided to test the water and asked, "Did you see the shooting star the other night?"
Roe didn't look up from his task and just responded in a grunt. I furrowed my brow at him. He side-glanced at me and stopped his work, turning to me with his full attention. "I did..."
I smiled. "I thought of you as it flew by."
He nodded, turning back to his work. I could tell something was wrong.
I added, "It pointed me in the direction of you." He gave me a small smile. It was enough for me, for now.
Roe finished his task at bandaging me up and stood up, walking to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned, he motioned to the small table in the corner of the room. There was a small dessert plate with a few crackers, bits of bread, and a sliver of meat. Next to the plate was a small glass filled only half way with water. "I managed to get you a little bit of food. After Luz told me that you got sick, we have to slowly reintroduce food and water to you. It's going to seem like not enough food for now, but I promise you, once you keep this down, we'll get more in you until you're back to normal."
He started to leave. I stammered, "W-wait. Where are you going?"
He sighed. "I should get back to the med station."
I sighed. "Oh. Right. Okay."
Roe was about to leave but stopped. "Oh, I forgot. I've got something that belongs to you." He walked over to my bed and picked up something from the floor. When it came into my view, my mouth fell open.
"My bag..." I gasped. "Where did you-" The last time I had seen my bag, it was around Fritz's shoulders, filled with canisters of film that I took of the prison camp. If Roe had my bag, I worried what might have happened to Fritz. My heart broke with fear and dread of what his fate was.
He set it down on the bench beside me. "I found them in Foy. It's got your camera and some unused film canisters-" he cut himself off. "Anyways, I thought you'd like to have them back."
I placed my hand on the familiar bag. "Thank you..." Roe was about to leave again, but I stopped him. "I have a question..." He looked back at me and waited. I braved the words as I asked, "What happened to Renee?"
He turned his pained dark eyes away from me, showing he was reminiscing her memory. He blinked back a few tears and said, "She was killed in the barrage in Bastogne. We buried her in a parachute with the men. She had a proper burial, surrounded by those she cared for and those that fought to protect her."
I sniffled, trying to hold in my tears, but my eyes betrayed me. I felt every sad heartbroken tear as they glided down my cheeks. "Thank you for telling me..."
"I'll come see you again soon," he admitted. I nodded and he left me alone in my room. I felt the familiar sting of tears forming behind my eyes as I heard the door latch behind him.
After choking the bits of food down, I decided to walk about the area. I needed to think, I needed air, and I wasn't about to get either being cooped up in my room...I didn't need to go from one prison to another. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder with an old familiarity.
Once I was outside, the fresh air hit my nose and I inhaled deeply, letting it burn my lungs. The burn reminded me that after everything, I was alive, which was more than I could say about a lot of men, even Renee. I needed to make sure that I lived my life without fear for their sakes.
I started to walk about the town, taking in the sights, taking pictures occasionally. The men were still in good spirits, and there didn't seem to be much going on. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn the war was over and we were all back home, going about our every day lives.
I rounded the corner on the path and felt that familiar ache in my side as I collided with a solid form. Strong hands grasped my hips, stabilizing me. I groaned a little before saying through gritted teeth, "Sorry."
"I heard you were back," a gruff voice spoke. I glanced up and met the intense gaze of Speirs.
Without realizing what I was doing, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held onto him tight. He seemed slightly taken aback by my actions, but returned the embrace. I could feel his face in the nape of my neck as we stood in the street hugging one another.
I pulled away, blinking tears from falling. "I was hoping to see you again!"
He looked me over and nodded. "I heard you were asking for me in the hospital." When I nodded, he added, "And that you ran away against orders."
I shifted in my place. "To be honest, no one ordered me to stay put either, sir."
He furrowed his brow at my use of the word 'sir', just like Sink had been. He lowered his gaze to my torso. "How's the wounds?"
I shrugged. "Healing, slowly."
He nodded knowingly. "I have something of yours." I looked up at him confused as he started to walk away from me. When I didn't immediately follow him, he stopped and motioned me to follow him. "This way." I obeyed his command, falling in step with him as he led me to a small shack outside of town.
He opened the wooden door and said, "Make yourself at home, if you'd like."
I looked around the quaint house. It was big enough for maybe two people, but there were only two rooms in the whole house; a bathroom and everything else. The bed was in the corner of the main room, the kitchen followed along the back wall, and there was just a lamp and chair in the opposite corner. In the center of the small room sat a table and chair set, barely big enough for one person and a guest.
I sat down at the table. "You live here?"
He nodded. "It does the job fine. Besides, no one bothers me out here."
I nodded my acknowledgement of his words, but continued to look about. It was a sad affair and my heart ached for him. I couldn't help but think back over the tiny amounts of interactions that I had had with him over the course of the war...and then to the moment when it was he who saved me, found me, made sure I didn't die.
He opened a trunk that sat at the foot of the bed and dug around inside. He lifted whatever it was he was looking for out, kicking the lid closed behind him as he made his way to the table. He moved the free chair over to sit next to me as he dropped a familiar leather bound book on the table before me.
My hands shook as I reached for the familiar book. I swallowed as I traced the edges with my fingers. "Where did you find this?" my words were barely a whisper.
Speirs looked at the book then back to me. "After we found you, Roe and another medic started to care for you. I looked around the house you were in. I found a lot of things there that were horrific, to say the least." I looked away from the journal to look him in the eyes. He continued, "On the desk in that room was your journal buried underneath all sorts of pictures, which I assumed you took. I took the journal and the photos, and handed the photos over to Colonel Sink."
"But you kept the journal?" I asked. "Why?"
He stated, "They didn't need to know your thoughts."
"Did you read it?" I questioned. It was a curiosity more than anything. I didn't care because the person who wrote it was long dead.
"Yes," he admitted. "I must say that you seem to be a different person than who wrote that." He pointed to the book. I nodded in agreement.
I asked, "What happened after that?"
"I looked around, like I said before. I found the tools they used on you, I saw the shed you were kept in..." I cut him off.
"Do they know?" I asked, referring to the men.
Speirs looked at me with a deep seriousness I'd never seen before. He shook his head. "No, I don't think anyone knows exactly what happened there."
"But you do?" I questioned.
He nodded. "I pieced it together. I think the men - Doc Roe included - think that you got caught in the line of fire when we started to barrage the town."
I swallowed, slowly nodding. Maybe it was for the best that they didn't know how bad it got for me. Maybe it was the better story for them to believe, that I simply was standing too close to a mortar when it went off.
Speirs added, "I also found letters written to you or anyone who knew you, hidden in the house."
"Letters?" I asked, clearly confused.
He nodded. "From someone named, Utzig." My heart skipped a beat when I heard the name. "He knew his time was coming to an end there. He wrote you several letters, and said that if anyone found them, they were to listen to his pleas."
"What pleas?" I questioned.
Speirs leaned back in his chair. "From what the letters said, he listed a lot of men's names that were responsible, not for what happened to you, but for the poor souls in the prison camp not far from there."
I closed my eyes, pained, as I recalled that camp. "What happened?"
He replied, "No one survived that camp. It was burned to the ground by the time we found it."
I didn't have the strength to keep from sobbing. All their faces flashed before my eyes, each story that I was told, each promise demanded from me to make things right...and for nothing. I sobbed into my hands, feeling waves of defeat. When Speirs placed a hand on my back in comfort, I collapsed into his arms, seeking solace and comfort. To my surprise, he provided everything I needed in that moment.
When I was finally able to compose myself, I asked as I wiped tears from my eyes, "What happens now?"
Speirs pulled away from me, eyeing me carefully. "We move forward. We wait for orders and we continue on with our jobs." He was very direct and to the point. Nothing seemed to phase him, it seemed.
"How do you move on so easily?" I asked quietly.
He studied me for a moment. "We don't." I looked over at him, meeting his intense gaze. "You bury it until you have the time to deal with it. Accept that it happened, become stronger than where you were before, and you promise to never let yourself go back there."
It all sounded too easy. Maybe it was easy for him to say these things and follow through, but I had a harder time thinking that I would become stronger than I had been before all of this began.
He added, "There's no shame in taking your time, Jane. You've deserved that right over a lot of the soldiers here."
"But, I'm not a soldier," I mumbled.
"Yes, you are," he stated. I looked away from him and he stood up, adding, "You're stronger than most men here. You've been through hell. You survived. It's more than most could say." He headed to the door, stopping himself before he opened the door. He turned slightly to address me once more, "I'm proud and inspired by you, Jane. You've endured unimaginable things and you came back."
I blinked back tears, looking up to watch him as he exited his little house on the hill.
I found myself wandering aimlessly about the town, searching for answers that no one could provide. Most of the time, the men didn't know how to talk to me. Most of them were replacements, unsure of who I was anyways.
Sitting down on a bench, feeling defeated, I contemplated what I was still doing here. I felt as though people like Dike were right. I should have been sent back home a long time ago. I realized that I wasn't useful here anymore.
As I thought things over, I felt someone sit down on the bench next to me. "Hey Jane, how are you?"
I glanced over to see a smiling face, almost offering comfort in the question. Unfortunately for me, I didn't recognize him.
He must have seen the confusion cross my eyes because he immediately added, "I'm Webster."
A light flickered on by hearing his name. "Oh...Webster. I know the name."
He smiled wide. "I've been gone for a while, like you."
I wanted to roll my eyes. From what I understood, he was in the hospital for a long time, whereas I was being held captive. The fact he was trying to compare our situations seemed laughable, but I held back my tongue.
He said, "I heard that you managed to escape the hospital." I nodded. He added, "That was brave of you."
"Not really," I replied.
He asked, "Did you meet anyone who helped you while you were there?"
"Helped me how?" I questioned.
"Just to be a friend while you were there," he stated. "I met some good people there. I know that some of them would be there for a while after I left. I was curious if you had met them."
I tilted my head at him. "Like who?"
Webster shook his head. "I didn't have anyone in mind. I just thought that maybe-"
I cut him off. "I did meet some interesting people at the hospital, to be honest with you. Though I have to say, if you were friends with these people, it begs the question if you were staying longer at the hospital because they influenced you to."
He furrowed his brow at me, taken aback by my sudden change in demeanor. "I wasn't implying anything-"
I stood up. "I met Henry. He seemed to know you well enough."
"Oh, how is Henry?" he asked, his voice showing genuine interest.
"I broke his leg," I stated. When Webster's face fell, looking at me with confusion, concern, and shock, I added, "He tried to keep me in the hospital with him. He wouldn't let me go, so I broke his leg; gave him what he wanted."
Webster looked stunned. "Which was?"
"A free pass to sit out of the rest of the war," I remarked. I turned on my heel, leaving Webster sitting there wondering what he did to anger me.
I felt my blood boiling. Images of the fight between me and Henry started to come up. I fought to suppress them. I didn't need to be reminded of them at this very moment.
I watched my feet as I walked, counting each step, hoping to calm down enough to find something to distract me, when I collided with someone.
"Sorry, you okay?" someone asked, helping to hold me up.
I looked up and nodded. "Fine, thanks." I brushed passed the man in uniform, not recognizing him either.
"Jane?" he called after me. I stopped and looked over my shoulder at him. He approached me and asked, "You sure you're okay? You seem a little..."
"Lost?" I asked, trying to finish his thought.
"I was going to say angry," he admitted.
I sighed. "Sorry. Been a hell of a day."
"I think you're allowed after what you've been through," the man said, offering a kind smile. "Have you seen Doc yet?"
I nodded. "Briefly. Now I think he's avoiding me."
The man shook his head. "Not avoiding. Processing. I think it's hard for him to see you in the state you're in. Just give him some time."
I stared into the man's eyes and said, "I'm sorry, I can't place your name and I feel bad because I feel like I should know."
He smiled, letting the comment roll off his shoulders. "Lipton. Lip, to everyone here."
I wished that I knew who he was. He was one of the few kind souls that had interacted with me. He wasn't digging for answers or my story, he wasn't expecting me to remember things that I couldn't. He was just there as a friend, something I had forgotten what it was.
Lipton sighed. "I've got to go. Major Winters is waiting for me." I nodded slowly, letting the words sink into my head. He added as he started to walk away from me, "We're glad to have you back, Jane."
It suddenly hit me just how much I had missed while being gone from the men. Luz gave me names of the men who we lost, Speirs told me what happened after they found me, and now Lipton had told me in passing about Winters's promotion. It was a lot to take in.
As I was thinking over all the details I was gathering by interacting or observing people, I spied Roe walking from one building to another. He said that he would come find me when he could, but I wondered how truthful that was. Maybe he was scared of who I was now or afraid of what he had seen. I fought every fiber in my being to rush after him.
Instead of running after him, I found myself walking back to the small house on the hill.
When I reached the door to Speirs's little house, I knocked on it, feeling awkward for doing so. I wasn't sure what I would say to him if he asked me why I was back here. I couldn't figure out how to best tell him that I felt more comfortable with him, like I belonged, like he cared for me.
I stood there for a few minutes, realizing that he wasn't inside and turned to leave. As I turned, he was walking up to me, carrying a small bundle in his arms. "I was hoping you were still here."
I tilted my head at him. "Sir?"
He opened the door and nodded me in. I followed him inside. Once the door was closed, he admitted, "I went to see Luz, wrestle a grooming kit from his stock."
I furrowed my brow. "Grooming kit?"
He set the bundle on the table and looked at me. "You have seen your hair, right?"
I touched the bundle of hair that was secured into a bun. "Yeah...it's why I have it knotted back here."
"I'm going to help you fix that," he stated.
"What?" I asked, clearly not hearing him right.
He smiled. "I do know how to cut hair." He motioned for me to sit in the chair. "I've cut many women's hair."
"Really?" I asked. "You're not just saying that?"
He unrolled the kit, showing combs, clippers, scissors. I suddenly paled. Seeing the kit reminded me of the tools Sauer used against me. I felt my hands shake and sweat. Speirs looked up at me and must have seen my distress. He glanced at the tools and then me. Quickly, he stepped in my range of vision, blocking my view of the kit. He placed his hands on my cheeks, lifting my head to his. "Hey. I'm right here. I'm not going to hurt you."
I blinked tears back. "I know."
He kissed my forehead comfortingly and said, "Let's fix this hair."
I felt him lead me to the chair, turning it so that I wasn't seeing the tools. He tried to comb out the tangles - the rat's nest of knots - but it snapped his comb.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
He tossed the comb aside. "It's not your fault. Your hair hasn't been taken care of in a while. It's bound to happen." I heard him sigh before admitting, "I was hoping to save your hair, but...I think I may need to cut it short."
I swallowed. "How short?"
"Don't worry, it's going to look nice," he said as he started to reach for the scissors.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
He paused his work. "You've already been through enough, Jane. You don't need another person near you that pretends to be mean. You've deserved a lifetime of kindness."
I felt my heart flutter at his words. Hearing the sincerity and love from him made me want to cry, to hug him. He was understanding and was showing me that nothing was going to push him away. He was being the best friend that I so desperately needed.
He let a short sigh release. "Okay, ready?" I nodded. He said, "Here we go." I heard the first cuts snip behind me.
