"Flawless Abandon, Irrevocable Surrender"
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – mini-series OR the book nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Co. All that is mine is Grace Grant and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.
"A WOMAN CAN'T CHANGE A MAN BECAUSE SHE LOVES HIM…A MAN CHANGES HIMSELF BECAUSE HE LOVES HER".
The love had evaporated from his eyes now…his expression was void of compassion as he stalked deliberately away from the bloodied man who shot her. He had contained himself long enough to fulfill his promise to her that he would not kill that man; he had controlled his rage in time to inform her men that she was alive and stable.
Now, however, with his blood roaring in his ears, he imagined everything he wanted do to that I-Company replacement…he cursed and spat as he walked in the direction of the jeeps, damning himself. He had promised he would not kill him…the reasonable voice in his head reminded…she didn't want that blood on his hands. His heart swelled with pride that he had been able to do right by her…but the love he had for her cringed without the satisfaction of revenge; a satisfaction he had allowed himself time and time again before.
Like a predator descending upon his prey, Ron narrowed his eyes in the darkness, his fists clenching as he imagined his hands around the throat of that man. Daggers shown out from his gaze as he listed every single barbaric and medieval way to cause prolonged pain. He wanted desperately to go back and hurt that man…to skin that piece of filth alive.
Feeling helpless, he began to breathe harder, nearly grunting as he approached a row of trucks and jeeps. If only he had something to throw.
Automatically, his itching hand fluidly retrieved his sidearm. Cocking it at once, he aimed and fired at a lone jeep, shattering the windshield and emptying the gun. Catching his breath after the shells had hit the wet dirt, he put his sidearm back into his belt and squeezed his eyes shut as tears skipped down his cheeks, his throat feeling raw. How could this have happened to her? The war in Europe was over - why did this happen? He should have known better…he should have known that free time, pilfered booze, and idle weapons would make for the perfect storm. He should have known that Grace, of all paratroopers would have this kind of luck.
I love you, her weakened voice echoed in his mind.
"Grace", he whispered hoarsely, grabbing a set of jeep keys from his pocket, jumping into the one he shot up and taking off towards the hospital; the sound of glass cracking under the tires going unheard in the darkness of the deserted road.
Making it to the hospital, miraculously in one piece, Ron leapt from the jeep and strode in through the double doors and down the corridor - to the one room that had a dim light shining from under the doorway.
Gently, he entered the room - somber and silent. His eyes fell on her still body in the bed, appearing small and covered in a blanket. Lew sat beside her in a chair, holding her hand.
Lew's tired face turned as soon as the door opened, "Ron", he greeted evenly, his voice hoarse. Ron remained silent, his eyes fixed on Grace's pale but relaxed face as he walked forward to her bed. "Did you…"
Ron interrupted him, "how is she? What did the doctor say?" his own voice rivaled Lew's in hoarseness.
"That Kraut doctor you found was a miracle worker", Lew explained calmly, "he said she was incredibly lucky. The bullet never made it to the abdominal cavity…he said he didn't know how that was possible considering the distance of the bullet and all that, but it happened. It only passed through muscle…never even nicked an organ. Absolute fucking miracle." Ron closed his eyes briefly in reprieve as Lew continued, "she lost a lot of blood…but she's stable now. She should be awake in the next couple days and up and out of here in the next few weeks if she's really lucky".
"Thank you", Ron responded, nodding, "for staying".
"Of course", Lew said, his eyes inspecting Ron's stance. "Has the shooter?..."
"The men found him…I ordered him over to the MP's".
Lew paused stroking Grace's hand, "you…did you…"
Interrupting him again, Ron's piercing gaze fixed on Lew's face, "I didn't kill him…as much as I wanted to. I still want to", he swallowed. "The men beat the ever-living shit out of him before I got there", he murmured.
"Good", Lew grunted.
"I pistol-whipped him as hard as I could….pointed my gun to his face, but…" Ron trailed off absently, staring at Grace - trying to impart to himself that she was here and breathing. I promised her I wouldn't. He wanted nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare; wake up in his bed, with her beside him, and the sun shining on them both.
"You did the right thing", Lew nodded, gauging Ron's tightening expression, "as much as it hurts", he added. Silence fell between them then. Ron walked to the other side of Grace's bed as Lew watched him. "Harry and Dick were here until just a few minutes ago", he informed quietly, "Sink was with them too….shaken up, but they were all happy to hear she was alright". Lew's eyes followed Ron's fingers as he reached to Grace, his hand stalling in the space between.
"What could I have done…" he began softly; so soft that Lew wasn't sure he'd heard him, "I could've done something different so that this didn't happen."
Lew knew where this was headed, "Ron…" he began gently.
"She didn't need to be the one to go the crossroads or the hospital", Ron's sorrowful tone was incredibly quiet and subdued as he spoke, his eyes never leaving Grace's features. "I have been over every single moment of today…every single thing I did wrong and could've done differently." He squeezed his eyes shut, hating himself as he thought of their earlier argument and the horrid lie he spouted before thinking, "Jesus, I nearly lost her again".
"She is alive and she will heal completely", Lew imparted sincerely and seriously, "you did everything right. The doctor said if one more minute had gone by, she would have bled out." He stood up from Grace's side, squeezing her hand, ready to leave them alone for the night, "Ron…you saved her". Smiling at Ron's exhausted and shocked expression, Lew bent down to Grace and kissed her cheek, "goodnight Gracie-bird, rest up". He spoke as he walked to the door, "you're staying the night?"
"Of course I am", Ron responded immediately.
"I'll make sure Easy is taken care of in the morning", Lew nodded. He was about to walk out the door, but he stopped and held his hand out to Ron, "thank you, Ron. You saved her life tonight". Numb, Ron accepted the handshake and Lew nodded again, "night", he said, closing the door behind him.
Feeling like he had been hit by a bus, Ron turned away from the closed door and back to Grace.
Gingerly taking Lew's vacated chair closest to her bed, he reached for her hand, clasping it firmly in his. He took the time to fully inspect...appreciate and commit to memory…her features, the color of her hair, the dotting of freckles across her face, the whiteness of her skin. She had been cleaned up since he saw her last. No mud in her hair or caked on her BDU's; she was now wearing an ivory hospital gown. He looked to her hand in his - the blood that had been dripping off them was gone. All was clean, and the band around her left ring finger shined up at him brightly.
He bit his lip and exhaled at the wave of gratitude that washed over him like a tidal wave. Tears sprung to his eyes as his gaze settled on her face once again.
Leaning over her body, he gently placed his lips to her cheek, whispering softly, "I love you Grace, I love you so much". Breathing in her scent that was muted by the smell of bandages and foreign linen, he felt his tears slip off and fall into her hair. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for what I said today - about waiting to ask to you to marry me. I've told many lies…but that, by far, the worst one I've ever said. God, I'm so sorry". Ron pressed his lips to her hair, her forehead, her cheek, then one gentle kiss on her lips before leaning back. His hand cupped her face, and then slid down her neck as he watched her breathe - evidence of her life. His hand then faltered in the air, hovering over her bullet wound hidden beneath bandages and blankets. His gaze brimmed over with tears again as he shook his head, "I feel like I don't deserve you"; he confessed quietly, "have since we met". He grew quiet then, unmoving, gazing into her tranquil face as tears slipped silently down his. Bringing her hand up, he held his lips to her skin as he tried to welcome to feeling of relief. She is alive and will heal completely.
Ooooooooooooo
"Jumped on with the Royal Army Medical Corps in 1940…..transferred to the 127th Parachute Regiment to serve with the field ambulance there…"
Colonel Sink…?
In the deep, heavy fog of Grace's mind she swore she could hear Sink talking to her.
"…discharged in May and sent to us one week ago."
'Yes, sir', she tried to respond, but she didn't hear her voice. Hadn't she had this conversation before? Where was his voice coming from?...he sounded like he was talking from another room.
"…signing you into the 101st Airborne, 506th 2nd Battalion….Easy Company".
'Sir', she tried again. Why did she hurt all over? Where was Ron?
"I'm officially making you a First Sergeant".
"Lieutenant?" A voice spoke from somewhere very far away. Where was she? Everything was dark.
Déjà vu hit her like a train - she had felt this before. This felt eerily similar to her waking up in that blown out barn in Foy. Terror surged through her then, as she couldn't move. Her breathing caught as she tried to sit up, tried to look around, tried to communicate.
"Ron?" Did she speak? It sounded like she did, but it echoed, as if she were whispering his name down a well.
"Easy, Lieutenant - I'm giving you something to sleep", a soothing voice spoke above her.
"Is that ok, doc?"
Tab?
"She needs to rest, it'll speed up the healing", Gene answered.
"We love you, Grace", George's voice cooed.
"Rest up", Malarkey whispered.
She heard the murmurings of others before feeling a slight pressure, and then she faded back to unconsciousness.
"She asked for Speirs", Tab noted, looking to the other men, "did you hear that?"
"The one time he wasn't nearby…figures", George nodded as Malarkey squeezed Grace's pale hand, getting up from the nearby chair.
Gene looked her over then turned to the troopers who were hesitating to leave, "will you go and find Captain Speirs and ask him to find me as soon as he can? She's been restless off and on today…it's only a matter of time before she wakes up….he requested to be here."
The men nodded and made their way outside to the jeep they had taken over to the hospital.
In the afternoon sun, they drove back to barracks and CP. It had been almost four days since she had been shot. Her men had made sure she had someone in her room in case she woke up. Captain Nixon had made sure she wouldn't be left all alone. After the incident, Sink had gone on a tirade, making sure all replacements were kept under tight supervision and that curfews were enforced.
To all of the men who were witness to the incident however, Captain Speirs made Colonel Sink look like a kitten in comparison.
None of them were surprised by his behavior - in fact, most remarked that they would do the same - but one thing they all agreed on, was how astounded they had been that Speirs lowered his weapon after it had been pointed at the replacement who shot her. Since that night, Speirs had only been around for drills and the like. No loitering, no looting, no drinking. He looked like he was barely sleeping.
"Who wants the honors of going in there to tell him?" George snarked gently from the back seat as Tab pulled the jeep up to Company CP.
Malarkey sighed, "I don't blame him for looking so worn out…I mean, Jesus, I couldn't imagine."
"He requested to be there, so someone's got to tell him", Tab reminded them.
"Requested my ass", George shook his head, "demanded is more like it." He smacked the back of Don's chair, "could you imagine what that looked like?"
"I would've done the same", he responded.
"I'll tell him", Tab decided confidently, keeping the jeep in idle and jumping out. "You might want to get out", he advised to Don and George, "how many packs you want to bet that he comes running out here…and takes off in that jeep whether you're in there or not."
"Good point", Don nodded as he hopped out.
Tab ran into the large building and up the staircase, hearing some noises come from the third floor. Once he reached the landing, he saw the origins of the noise: Captain Speirs was supervising a few orderlies. They were finishing up placing Grace's things into her room, which was directly beside Speirs'. Tab knew that before now, her things had been in Battalion HQ under Colonel Sink's supervision.
Speirs turned as soon as he heard someone stop, "Talbert", he spoke at once, his eyes narrowing in acknowledgment.
"You busy, sir?"
"I'm all finished here", he remarked, "you're dismissed", he called to the orderlies who nodded and walked out. He gestured to her things, "trying to get ahead of the game…in case she comes home early".
'Comes home'…Tab didn't attempt to suppress his smirk at the Captain's words, "you might be in luck, Doc Roe asked me to fetch you…"
Ron interrupted him, his eyes wide "did she wake up?"
"Not yet, sir", Tab clarified, "Doc Roe said it shouldn't be long now".
Grabbing his garrison cap from his belt, Ron strode past Tab and down the stairs, "thank you, First Sergeant Talbert", he spoke honestly to him when they reached the bottom.
"Absolutely, sir", Tab answered as they walked outside.
"Sir", Don and George greeted him at the same time. Without speaking or looking at them, Ron nodded to them, starting the jeep at once, taking off toward the hospital.
"Told you", Tab smirked, watching the dust from the jeep's tires spiral into the air.
THANK YOU SO MUCH for your patience.
I was going to take this further, but I wanted to post something for you all as a THANK YOU.
I have another chapter in the works.
Please let me know what you think.
