So I noticed something. The day I updated last was Valentine's Day – while the latter part of last chapter WAS fitting for the theme, the first part was basically the antithesis of romance.

---Nondescript Day of a nondescript month of 1941---

The days had blurred together since Adler committed the act – that act which had, as far as Alicia was concerned, robbed her of both innocence and soul. The majority of her time, once occupied by baking and idle chatter with the men of the company, now was filled entirely with a cold silence and a sudden, forced cynical view of both the war, and the world as a whole. Happiness was completely worn into a combination of sadness and anger, and she hardly spoke – and when she did, it was often either 'yes' or 'no', and little else.

She'd stopped sending letters and telegrams to Welkin, partially because knowing how she'd fallen into this pit would surely send him into his own – though the tone he was using in more recent letters was that of the worried man, as her lack of response left him in total darkness concerning the status she was in. At least, until she stopped opening the envelopes they came in, placing herself in near-total seclusion, minus one person.

Catherine, the person who'd came to her rescue, was her sole contact with the outside world. In many ways, the markswoman was things Alicia wasn't – for one, she wasn't a victim to that horrid act committed by the Austrian.

"Alicia? My darling!" A somewhat familiar voice called out. "Oh, how I've..."

Noce was instantly silenced when he saw two things – not only wasn't she happy or comforted in seeing him, but he'd seemingly downright angered her.

"Leave, Wordsworth."

"Alicia...? What..."

"OUT."

The man found himself confused – he'd asked for a transfer to the company – to Alicia's group no less – in hopes of swaying her away from Welkin. It seemed that something precluded that, and he immediately thought his former CO had something to do with it.

"Alicia, please, let me..."

The stare she produced was one comparable only to one of Marina's. Possibly worse, given both eyes were used. Though he continued, staring into the blank, soulless-looking brown eyes, searching for any shred of the girl he'd attempted to win over. The seeming staring contest continued for several moments, until finally, Noce turned away.

"Who did this to you?"

Alicia remained silent, hoping the man would go away. It appeared that she wasn't going to get a moment alone until he knew what had transpired.

Which was too damn bad. She wasn't about to relive those events. "Rifleman Wordsworth, as your superior, I order you to leave." Her tone was one that was clearly indicative of not backing down. She wanted to be alone, and if Noce was willing to disobey a direct order in order to stay, she could have the MPs on him faster than he could confess anything – ranging from love to murder, and everything in between.

"Order respectfully disobeyed. You need help, Ali..." He was silenced when she suddenly brought a knife to his throat, and a red glow to her eyes.

"How about this: Leave, or I'll cut you to ribbons?"

This narrowed things down quite rapidly for Noce: One, stay and attempt to console Alicia, and face either Death or the Gestapo, or leave, and attempt to talk to her at another time.

"Ok. I'm going." He quickly made his way for the door, quickly and quietly sticking a piece of paper – undoubtedly one of his poems – under her helmet.

Once the man had left, she looked at the helmet. It had the pattern of her old red headscarf painted on the rim, a personal touch after the incident with the Matilda tanks in France left a hole in her original one. While she'd later acquired a patch for it, she now permanently wore the helmet in combat, even when that blue glow she'd come to hate cast itself across the battlefield. It was also the helmet she wore when Adler forced his way into... she quickly tossed that thought aside, not wanting to dwell on the violation endured.

She picked the helmet up, holding the overturned coal-bucket shape, and looking at it like it was another person. Sighing quietly, the girl let the helmet fall in her hand, herself with it, until they both stopped, seated on the floor.

Alicia looked up at the folded paper, which was now perched above eye level. That paper – for all she cared, it was blank. In fact, she preferred that it be blank, though the depths of her mind quietly wondered what the note contained.

An hour passed, and Alicia was still on the floor, though she'd moved into a corner next to the bed. If someone had walked into the room, they'd have figured it empty, seeing neither Alicia's helmet or her. The intended effect – though a gentle knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts. She bid no response, hoping that the person would leave her alone.

"Come now, Alicia. I know you're in there." The calm voice of Catherine wrought another sigh from the girl curled up in the corner.

The door opened, and the elder woman's figure stood in the doorway long enough to open it far enough to enter. She sat on Alicia's bed, near where the younger girl was sulking.

"Alicia – I've talked to the General about Dre... Adler, and von Esling's doing everything he can to bring Adler to justice."

Alicia looked up from her curled up, ball-like position. "Wirtlich?"

"Yes, but that's not why I came in here. We're all afraid for you – even Freesia's a bit worried, and you know how free-spirited she is. The Company's been in tatters since you secluded yourself, and I bet poor Welkin's died of heartache."

Alicia looked up into Catherine's eyes, then back to the floor. "I... I, wir..."

"Come with me." The Englishwoman extended her hand out to Alicia, who grabbed it after hesitating for a few moments.

The sudden pull the marksman produced not only brought Alicia to her feet, but also startled her. As she stood, Alicia still held her hand, allowing her elder to lead her out of her room and down the hallway. Nothing was really particularly interesting, as walls of gray and a floor of a darker shade of the most common color seen in the Wehrmacht. She still let the marksman lead on.

It was when they left the Officer's Quarters that things hit Alicia, and they hit her like a large stone. Tired faces smeared with dirt and grime, sweat, and blood, from the most recent skirmish – be it victory or defeat, the effect was similar.

Many other things had changed since she last left the quarters, as the ground had frost on it, indicators of the coming Winter, and the also upcoming push for Moscow. A tired-looking soldier looked at her – she could not tell if he was someone she once knew, for the face was masked by both a shadow and dirt – a smile came to the face, though, and a familiar – if deeper – voice came to her ears.

"Oh! Hello, Alicia!" None other than Ted Ustinov – while the face and overall appearance were hard to make out, it was quite easy to pick out the seemingly jovial tone, and that goofy smile. A fake smile – undoubtedly, an attempt to cheer her up – came to Ted's face. "Where have you been?"

Alicia did not cheer up - not visually, at least. She did, however, acknowledge Ted by speaking to him.

"It... it's been a while." Her tone was still down, though a familiar, somewhat happy sparkle appeared in her eyes, if only momentarily.

The would-be entertainer missed it, however, allowing the fake smile to fade from his mouth. "Yes. Yes it has." His tone was far more somber than she was used to – no doubt, the result of a drawn-on war and his tired state. "I heard what happened to you. I bet Welkin feels guilty that he couldn't protect you."

Alicia looked at Ted, who was now taller than her. "How is Welkin? And Isara?"

"I... don't know. The regiment was split up as result of the battle of Stalingrad. I haven't heard anything from the Captain since."

Stalingrad... she recalled a dream, faintly, she had back in 1940. It did not end well. "What do you remember?"

"What do I remember? Oh, damn, what don't I remember? Welkin nearly died when you stopped responding to his letters. And you know Bieber, the south German? Isara's practically engaged to him!"

Alicia remained blank-faced. "Well, Isara is probably very happy. As is Bieber." Her thoughts, however, drifted to Welkin. To know that, in her fall, she'd caused him pain was unbearable to her. At the same time, though, she still thought it better he be kept in the dark – at least, he would think that she might be leading a resemblance of a happy life in the German Armed Forces – an oxymoron in her opinion.

"Why was the company split?" Alicia's face and tone were still far more deadpan than the boy in front of her was used to. She wasn't sure, however, if that knowledge was what she wanted to know.

Ted glanced away. "Well..."

"We'd basically just arrived in the city. The Captain – Welkin, I mean – had just recovered from a wound suffered back in June. So, when Major Varrot passed down the orders for Welkin to have C-Company lead the charge into the city, it was just like his first op – only with less Imps. And we were the attackers."

"What happened, after that, was as we were charging into the City, the Marshal, Rommel, was re-assigned to the west – Africa, I think. He could pick a few officers to take with him, to be re-assigned to the division of his choosing. Obviously, he chose Welkin, and also Colonel von Luck. It all sorta went to bits from there – Soon after that, what was B-Squad got turned to mostly body bags, and the one survivor, Peter, also got shipped to North Africa. Soon enough, the Regiment was getting shipped off in four different directions. Isara and Bieber got assigned to the 16th Panzers, Welkin's sitting pretty in the 7th Panzers, and Juno..."

Alicia glared at Ted when he mentioned the bespectacled blonde.

"Juno just disappeared." Ted quickly made that up. "No clue what happened to her."

"Good." Alicia's mouth lowered into a half-frown. Her opinion of Coren wasn't high, so it was probably for the better that that thread just be dropped.

---End Chapter 38---

I've pissed off my first fanboy! I've reached a turning point! :D

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