Someone finds salvation in everyone
And another only pain
Someone tries to hide himself
Down inside himself he prays
Someone swears his true love
Until the end of time
Another runs away
"Be Yourself" by Audioslave
Becca's POV
Rechamps, France
Leaning heavily against Babe's shoulder, I couldn't stop my eyes from finding Ron at once. He was hunched over a stack of paperwork, his hand moving rapidly across the page. I watched the tilt of his head to the side. The pink shade of his tongue as it darted out to swipe a soothing balm across his lips. Most of all, I observed the facial hair that was wrapped in a thin layer all over his face. His hair had grown a few inches since we'd been in Bastogne. And I found that I liked it. I could imagine my fingers running through it as...I shut my eyes with a sense of finality. I wouldn't subject myself to the torture of my fantasies any longer. It was the only way to get through this. It would be difficult, but I was determined to stay away from him. It was for our own good and I couldn't help but feel like I was doing the right thing. Babe leaned backwards and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
"Here, just lay on my chest, Becca," he said softly, inching me closer with his fingers. He must have thought I was asleep. I opened my eyes, refusing to look at Ron. Instead, I stared at the man next to me. Just like everyone else there was a relief in his entire body. I knew being in this church must be comforting to the men. My thoughts were too jumpy for me to really find any peace. But it was better than being stuck out in the cold for another night. I shuddered, remembering that only a few weeks ago I'd been wounded. I immediately became aware of my side. It had healed up nicely but there was a huge ivory scar there. The war had marked me, making sure that I would never forget the sacrifices made by these men. Nor the memories that would haunt me forever. Of Bastogne, of Holland, of D-Day. I knew I would never forget it.
"Becca?" Babe whispered, his fingers closing around my wrist. I snapped my head up to look at him. His eyes were filled with concern and I realized I must have been sitting there, unresponsive, for longer than I'd thought. I shook my head, sending him a small smile before scooting closer and placing my head on his chest. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I found that this was nice. Having a friend again who was just a friend. Babe was like the older brother I'd never had. I could feel him pressing his lips to my forehead as he smoothed the hair away from my face. He had become my rock in the chaos of the war surrounding me. I relaxed against him, willing sleep to come and find me. But the thoughts in my brain were shooting around so fast...
"Go to sleep, Becca. Stop thinking so much. You're making my brain hurt," he said. I could hear the exasperated amusement he held for me and I knew then that if I couldn't have Bill and I couldn't have Ron, at least I had one man I could still count on. I wondered when this had happened. How had our friendship suddenly begin to bloom?
"Becca!" Babe hissed. I giggled, my eyes fluttering for a moment while I tried to relax my mind. After a few minutes, all I knew was the dark, dreamless sleep that had escaped me for so long.
Ron's POV
I stood up, my hand cramping up from writing so much. If I'd have known it would be this much work becoming Easy's Company Commander, I wouldn't have accepted the offer. I frowned. That wasn't true. No amount of work could have scared me away from Easy. I'd known these men since the beginning. Most of them were good and hard-working. And they'd all, at some point, protected Becca from harm's way. Except in the case of when she'd been captured and as much as I wanted to blame someone, that had been a complete and utter accident.
I stretched, putting on my gear. I couldn't stop my gaze from wandering around the group of soldiers slumped over in the pews in the dimly-lighted convent. I saw Rebecca immediately leaning sound asleep against one of the soldiers. I thought his name was Heffron. He was hard to forget with his red hair and child-like face. I had to wonder if Guarnere had left only to be replaced by this man. I observed him, my frown deepening. I shook my head, my gaze falling instead on Sergeant Lipton. I watched him out of the corner of my vision as he moved his head around, his lips moving with silent words. He paused, glancing over at me and smiling awkwardly as I met his gaze. He glanced away immediately, crossing his arms over his chest and relaxing more firmly against the pew at his back.
"What is it?" I asked him. He shook his head, and muttered something that sounded a lot like, "Nothing." I could see something in his eyes and I had to wonder if he wanted to ask me about the stories and rumors that had circulated about me since the beginning. Only some of which were true. I had killed those POWs on D-Day. I hadn't shot any of the soldiers from my platoon for being drunk. It never came to that. They knew me well enough to realize that if they'd so much as thought about drinking a beer, I would have killed them on the spot for disobeying my direct order. And I had taken that gun out on D-Day nearly all by myself. Yes I could see why someone would be curious about whether the stories were true.
"You wanna ask me don't you?"
"Ask you what, sir?" he said, his voice hesitant and very careful. I could tell that Lipton was a man who didn't want to pry in other people's business. He cared about the men. He'd taken the initiative and as far as I knew, had kept the company together through Bastogne. He'd wanted to protect their lives at whatever cost. That's why he was being promoted and that's why I found myself liking him even though I hadn't known him for very long.
"About the stories. I don't blame you for being curious," I replied, smirking to myself as I grabbed my gun and swung it over my shoulder, "But you ever notice with stories like that that everyone says they heard it from someone who was there? When you ask that person, they say they heard it from someone who was there. It's nothing new really.
"I bet if you went back 2000 years you'd hear a bunch of Centurions standing around yackin' about how Tertius lopped off the heads of some Carthaginian prisoners," I concluded. For a moment, all that met me was silence. Then I heard Lipton shift slightly where he stood. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the smile on his face.
"Well, maybe they kept talking about it because Tertius never denied it."
"Maybe he knew there was some value to the men thinking he was the meanest, toughest son-of-a-bitch in the whole Roman legion." I started walking away, my helmet tucked under my arm and a smirk back in place on my face.
"Sir?" I turned around at the sound of his voice, my eyes finding his in the dim light from the candles all around us. The shadows on his face and under his eyes spoke volumes about the exhaustion and fear we'd lived under for an entire month. I was glad that we were moving out of here if only to see these men under warm roofs with new uniforms on, "These men aren't really concerned about those stories. They're just glad to have you as our C.O. They're happy to have a good leader again."
"From what I heard they've always had one," I said, staring down at the floor for a moment before looking up again to meet his unwavering gaze, "I've been told there's always been one man they could count on. Led them into the Bois Jacques. Held them together when they had the crap shelled out of them in the woods. Every day he kept their spirits up, kept them focused. All the things a good combat leader does." I paused, staring at him as he nodded without really understanding. He was staring at the ground, his eyebrows furrowed in slight concentration.
"You don't have any idea who I'm talking about do you?"
"No, not really sir."
"Hell, it was you First Sergeant," I told him, smiling despite myself, "Ever since Winters made Battalion, you've been leading Easy Company. Oh and you're not gonna be a First Sergeant for much longer, First Sergeant."
"Sir?"
"Winters put in for a battlefield commission for you and Sink approved it. Should get the official nod in a few days. Congratulations, Lieutenant." I sent him one final nod and smile before turning away and heading for the door. There was a room with my name on it waiting for me. It had a bed, sheets. I wanted to turn back and steal Becca away from the soldier that had her wrapped in his embrace. But by the look on her face as she snuggled against his chest, she was more comfortable here than she had been in a month. I grinned at her, desire and love flooding through me in a tidal wave that I was trying strongly to keep at bay until I was alone. Turning around, I continued out the door. The cold air hit my straightaway, stealing all the warmth from my body in one single blow. I tucked the papers I'd been holding under my arm, my legs moving as fast as they could so that I could give these to Winters before going to sleep.
I heaved a sigh as I twisted the frozen doorknob and pushed the door open. Snaking off my boots and shuffling toward the bed by the light of the moon, I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. For the first time since being in Bastogne, I let my guard down. I knew it was because I'd gotten to see Becca again. She was safe and as long as that held true, I could let my guard down every once in a while. When I crawled into bed, however, my hand touched something that was very solid and very warm. Fear swept through me for a moment before I saw reason and reached in my pocket for my zippo. Flicking the light on, my hands trembling in silent trepidation, I growled my frustration into the night.
"What the hell are you doing in my bed, Britney?" I demanded, the urge to grab her and throw her from my room almost overtaking me. But I realized that she was the mother of my child. My baby boy or my baby girl was growing inside her and I would do nothing to jeopardize their life. She rolled over, her brown eyes finding mine groggily. She stretched and I realized she didn't have on any clothes either. Shifting a hand through my hair, I set my lips in a thin line.
"Hey," she said, her voice still soft and breathy from being asleep. I realized that I wouldn't throw her out of my room. No matter how infuriating I found her, she was probably just as tired as the rest of us. She was a good nurse and from what I'd seen of her when I went to the hospital, she never really stopped to get some rest unless someone told her to. No, as irritating as she was, maybe she had some good in her. Too bad I didn't get to see that part of her though. I became aware of her fingers grasping my own in a feather-light embrace, "Come to bed." I shook off her hand as gently as I could.
"No, Britney I can't," I told her before moving across the room to lay down on the couch. I heard the ruffling of sheets, but I didn't look at her. I knew it was what she wanted.
"Why? Because of that bitch? Don't you see, Ron, she's trying to make you hate me so that you'll keep running back to her," Britney wailed suddenly. It made a shiver of anger roll down my spine. I sat up, unable to look away any longer. My eyes stayed firmly planted to her face. The sheets had fallen in a silken lake at her waist.
"Don't talk about her like that. She's twice the woman you'll ever be. And don't believe for one single moment that I'm sticking around for you. It's that baby inside you. I'll take care of it and be the best father I can be. But I refuse to take care of an ungrateful, conniving snake like you," I told her. The silence rang around the room as I turned around and faced away from her. I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn't have cared less. A moment later my dreams swept me away in a myriad of colors that promised me peace for one night.
Becca's POV
Haguenau, France
"Jesus Christ, my ass hurts," I grumbled over the roar of the trucks beneath our feet. We'd been sitting on these same seats for what felt like several hours. All the guys looked at me and smiled.
"Well, I'm sure one of us would be more than happy to rub away your aches and pains," Grant said, shooting me a sly wink. I rolled my eyes, letting my forehead fall on Babe's shoulder. He threw his arm around me and was about to get comfortable when a face that we hadn't seen in a long time appeared at the tailgate of the truck. I could see the smiles fall off the guys' faces as they looked at him. I glanced toward him, taking in the sight of his shaved cheeks, spotless uniform, and easy smirk. It made me sick to my stomach looking at him. We hadn't seen a clean uniform in nearly two months not to mention a shower.
"Hey guys, some Lieutenant told me to report to 2nd," he told us, his blue eyes roving over all of us. His eyes told a different story from his smile. I could see what he saw in that moment. We all looked like hell. With the dirt and grime covering our bodies like a second layer of skin, with the bags under our eyes, and with all the weight we'd lost I knew that he must have been surprised at how much we'd changed since Holland. I hadn't been there to see him wounded, but I'd heard about it from the other guys when I'd gotten back from being captured.
"Whose leading the platoon?" Webster asked Jackson who shot me a look for a moment before he jerked his head toward Malarkey, who was standing up beside me.
"Sergeant Malarkey is."
"What, no officers?"
"I guess you didn't hear," Liebgott began, staring down at his hands. I could see the corners of his lips turned up in a momentary grin before he got serious again, "They're making him a Lieutenant. He's on the fast track now." I stifled a giggle by pressing my face into Babe's shoulder. He cleared his throat but I could hear the urge to laugh in his chest too.
"Really?" Webster asked. I could tell by his voice he hadn't caught Lieb's lie, which made it all the more amusing, "That's really great. Here, Jackson, help me up." He threw his bag up onto the bed of the truck which Jackson and Liebgott pulled on so that it wouldn't fall off the back.
"So, you were in the hospital?" Jackson asked him, giving him a critical once-over before glancing in my direction as he waited for his answer. Before he could, Liebgott spoke up.
"You must have liked that hospital. We left Holland four months ago."
"Well, I wasn't there the whole time," Webster began, trying to defend himself, "There was rehabilitation and then the replacement depot..."
"Why didn't you try to bust out and help us in Bastogne, Web?" I shook my head, tucking a tendril of hair behind my air and watching David's face. I couldn't really blame him for wanting to stay as far away from the fighting as he could for as long as he could. I was glad that he was back and that he had missed Bastogne. That made at least one of our number who would not be tainted by the scars left on us from that black time. But I could also understand Liebgott and the other's frustration with him. If we'd had just one more man out there in the Ardennes, would it have saved someone else? Could we have gotten out of there more quickly and with less casualties? Who could ever really answer that question? Beside me, Heffron scoffed. And I knew that he was thinking of some of the same people I was. I wouldn't say his name. It hurt too much to think about it, even now. Even a month later.
"I don't know how I would have done that."
"Well it's funny because Popeye found a way. So did Alley back in Holland," Joe said, turning toward Babe who nodded his head as he flicked his zippo, "And Guarnere-." It shot a shudder of despair down my spine hearing that name again. I closed my eyes, trying to keep my breathing even. Babe's hand closed around my own and I squeezed it as hard as I could without hurting him.
"It's alright, Becca. Just breathe," he whispered in my ear.
"Yeah, where is Guarnere? He still your platoon sergeant?" Suddenly I knew that anger that the other guys felt for Webster. The blaring hatred that he didn't know the suffering we'd gone through and that he would be so stupid to ask where missing members of the platoon had gone.
"He got hit," Jackson said quietly as the truck came rolling to a stop. We all gathered around the tail gate waiting to jump down to the ground. Babe stood up, pulling me with him.
"Yeah, Bill got hit. Blew his whole leg off," he told Webster. I could hear the "asshole" left in the air after that simple statement. And despite the sadness inside me, I had to smile. Bill wold have been proud of Babe for telling Web off like that. Babe helped me down and together we followed everyone else toward the center of town.
"Spread out," Malarkey said as he walked behind the platoon, "Hold on this line until I figure out where we're going." He headed across the street where I noticed Ron was talking with some other men. The desire to run toward him and throw my arms around him was overbearing. I started to move toward him and away from Babe until his arm closed around my waist and pulled me to his chest. He covered me with body and it was only then that I heard the screaming of the mortars overhead. Curling my arms under myself, I knew that I had to get a hold of myself soon or else I'd be driven crazy. Babe leaned away from me again and turned me around so that he would look me in the eyes. He held my face in his hands, the look on his face more serious than I'd ever seen before.
"Becca, you've got to pay attention. We're close to the end, can't you feel that? What would Bill do if he knew that you'd gotten killed because you weren't paying attention? What would Speirs do?" he asked me, his voice fiercely protective. I stared at him. This was a side of him I'd never seen and I knew in that moment that he was right. We were close to the end. We all had to watch out for ourselves so that we could make it out of this alive. I had no illusions of false hope that none of us were going to die in the months that we had remaining to fight the Germans, but if we were all careful then the number of casualties would go down. I knew it.
"You're right, I'm sorry, Babe," I whispered, reaching forward and kissing his cheek. I knew he was right. And he'd known exactly which of my buttons to press to get me to take better care of myself. I shook my head, wanting to believe that he was right. That we were close to the war coming to an end. It was a miracle and something that had been formed of the stuff of dreams. If felt like we'd been in Bastogne forever. We'd gone in there still relatively young. We'd all come out scarred and much older, driven by the horrors we'd experienced toward an agony that would never be far from our minds. Yes, I had to believe that what Babe said was true if there was any chance for me to get out of this alive and in one piece.
Stepping under the freezing-cold droplets of rain falling from the shower head, I couldn't help but sigh in relief and joy. I could feel the month's worth of dirt and sweat and blood being rinsed from my body. And I didn't think that I had ever felt so happy before. I scrubbed my body and my hair clean. I almost had the urge to stand under the water for hours, but I knew Dick was waiting to take a shower of his own.
Thankfully, Dick had gotten me my own room next to his. We were sharing a bathroom and he'd let me take my shower first. I had to remember to thank him again for that as I stepped out of the bathroom in the new uniform Babe had snagged for me. The droplets of water were dripping from my hair. I could feel them racing down my neck and into the dark hollows of my back and chest. Smiling happily, I whistled and started down the hallway to go put my stuff away before going to where second platoon had been set up. Passing by Dick's room, I paused to knock on the door. I waited a moment until finally I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. The door opened and a head of flaming red hair met my eyes.
"Hey, you cleaned up nicely," Dick said, sending me a gentle smile. His eyes were underlined with dark shadows that showed just how tired he was.
"Thanks. You should get yourself a shower too," I told him, trying to push him to do something for himself for a change. I knew, even when he was at Battalion, he always kept Easy close to his heart. He'd tried to lessen the blows of the war in Bastogne and I knew he was still doing it now.
"Sure, I've just got some paper-," he started, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of his room.
"Dick, please for me. Just go and take a shower. The paperwork will still be there when you get out," I said, grinning up at him. He shook his head with a sigh of exasperation. He nodded his head, taking a few steps toward the bathroom, "Thank you." I watched him until the bathroom door shut with a sense of finality. The sound of someone chuckling behind me had me twisting my body to glance around for the source. Leaning up against the door frame of his room was Nixon. His hair was slicked back and he'd shaved. He smirked at me, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief in the dim light in the hallway.
"You sure do have a way with that guy. Does whatever the hell you tell him to."
"Thanks, Nix," I said, a comfortable silence descending between us. I hadn't realized up until that moment that Nix could have been my friend too. The opportunity just hadn't really presented itself just yet, "Well, I'm gonna head over to second. I'm sure they're rising Cain already."
"What, you didn't hear yet?" Nix's voice stopped me dead in my tracks. There was something in his voice. Something in the way he asked me that question that had dread pooling in every crevice of my soul. I turned back toward him, unable to keep the fear from my face and voice.
"Hear what?"
"Just about all the guys in second are at a briefing for a patrol set for tonight. Dick didn't mention it?"
"No, I've been busy the past few hours and...Jesus Christ, don't they ever let up?" I asked him. It was a rhetorical question and I didn't really expect an answer from the man beside me.
"No, that's war, Becca. No one ever lets up. Not until the other side surrenders or they're all killed." Shudders of fear and anxiety raced up my spine. Well if they were going on the patrol, I was too. They would need a medic just in case something went wrong and I knew Dick believed I could handle myself out there. Without another word, I strode toward the bathroom door and pounded on it. I couldn't hear the water running yet, so he was probably shaving or he'd just gotten a really quick shower. Somehow, I doubted it was the latter.
"Yeah?" his voice echoed through the small tiled room beyond the door.
"Dick, about that patrol..." I said, my voice fading as I tried to figure out what to say, "I-you'll need a medic. Just in case something happens over there. Gene and Spina are tired. Heck we're all tired but I've been recovering for nearly three weeks. I can go." A heavy silence greeted me in reply. After what seemed like a century had passed, Dick came to the door and opened it. His blue eyes observed me carefully for a few drawn out moments.
"You're sure you can handle it?" I nodded, knowing in my heart that I was ready to jump back into the action again. Being wounded had shown me one thing. No matter what you did or didn't do in the war, if the Germans wanted to find you, they would, "Okay then, you can go. I'll tell Ron as soon as I get out of here."
"Thank you," I muttered, more than grateful that he'd listened to me and would let me have this small thing. I knew somehow that I wouldn't be hurt. Still there was something nagging at the back of my mind about the patrol. I just couldn't figure out what yet.
I could almost feel the anxiety that was riding the air as I closed the distance between myself and second platoon. My fingers itched to have them close again. They had become my family. Even more than the other platoons. Simply because Bill had been a part of second and I'd spent the most time with them. I was almost there, my heart was racing in excitement and then it did a 180 flip as someone's fingers closed around my wrist. I tried to turn, tried to see who was dragging me across the street into an abandoned house. But I couldn't. Their grip was too firm for me to move at all. I closed my eyes, relying on my other instincts to tell me who this was. I felt it immediately. A spark on the periphery of my acknowledgment. His masculine, woodsy smell floated from his body and filled my nose. I breathed him in, my body shuddering with trepidation and heated desire. I could feel the heat pooling inside my veins. My pulse became a deafening roar in my ears. And my skin was set ablaze with his touch. As he pushed me ahead of him inside the building, I didn't even take a moment to wonder what he wanted with me. All that mattered was that he was here and we were alone at last. The urge to turn around and throw myself into his arms was nearly unbearable. I stayed where I was. Facing away from him and clenching my hands at my sides. I knew that under all the lies I'd told myself that I wasn't strong enough to suppress my desires for him, I knew that I still wanted him. More than anything else in the world I just wanted him to choose me, to love me. I also knew that it wasn't possible. So when he cleared his throat behind me, I wasn't surprised when what came out of his mouth was something that I did not like at all.
"I just talked to Winters," he started, his voice as silky smooth as I remembered it to be. His words flowed over me and soothed the aches and pains I'd endured from being away from him for so long. I could almost imagine that my dreams from when I'd been wounded were real. I could pretend for a moment that he really had told me that he loved me and that he still wanted to be with me, "Told me you volunteered to go on the patrol tonight." I didn't say anything, feeling in the quaking of my lips and hands that whatever he was about to say would push us even farther apart. I knew that the time had come for me to defend myself, to stand up for myself even in the face of his anger. I was tired of him pushing me away. I was tired of pretending that I wasn't as much in love with him now as I was before.
"Funny, but I thought I was Easy's commander now. And I don't like the idea of you going on that patrol," he said. The world spun on its axis and tilted ever so slightly until it seemed it had rolled off and onto my shoulders. The weight pressing down on me was almost too much for me. I struggled, trying to relieve my heavy burden. A moment more passed me by in silent anticipation, and then it seemed my calm exterior cracked into a thousand shards of glass. It was like three months worth of pain and suffering had suddenly imploded within me and I could not stop the stream of words that shot out of my mouth as I twirled on my heels, finally facing him.
"Oh I see. So you ignore me for three months and the moment I do something you don't like, you decide to throw it in my face?" I demanded of him. I could see the surprise written on his face and something darker and more serious swirling through his blackened eyes. I didn't stop to think what that might mean. I was too worked up, too furious to really think anything, "I'm tired of you treating me like I'm some incompetent little girl. I'm not and I haven't been for a long time. I've spent the last three months pining over you while you and Britney laughed at my expense. I'm glad you two are getting married. You deserve each other!" Pushing past him, I left the room and never looked back. I wanted to, wanted to so badly it throbbed in my chest and filled me with regret and the beginnings of that choking despair I'd become so well acquainted with. I couldn't recall walking through the streets of Haguenau, but suddenly I had thrown myself onto the clean sheets covering my bed. The tears flowed in thick rivulets down my face. I didn't think after all the crying I'd already done over the man that I could shed any more tears. Oh how wrong I had been.
Okay so first of all, aren't you guys excited that you didn't have to wait a whole month and a half for this chapter? I know I'm excited for you guys lol. I laughed so hard while I was going over this chapter again. I'd almost forgotten how much those guys teased Web when we got back to Easy. OMG! And Nixon – I know someone must have enjoyed him showing up in this chapter. ;)
Anyways...thanks so much for all the reviews and favorites and just for reading in general. I can't tell any of you how much I appreciated it given that I dropped you all for so long. But...I'm back now and it's all that matters...that and that you all haven't given up on me. I really appreciate it! Oh! And my new story...well I shouldn't be posting it until the new year(after I've finished up this story) and I'm hoping some of you will follow me over to the Harry Potter fandom. It's really quite nice over there despite the fact that it can sometimes be very difficult finding a good story. :)
I'd like to thank the following people for reviewing: EllieMayy, Dean's Leather Jacket, captain ty, AivieEnchanted, BrokenAngel1753, Nemo, BloodUponTheRisers, and EmmyMK. I love you guys so much and if I could send you anything more than a short note at the end of this chapter, then I totally would!
Disclaimer: No disrespect is meant toward the real men of Easy Company. I only own my OCs and the original plot for the story that you do not recognize.