A/N: It's Wednesday! Both in real life, and in the story!

Chapter Fifteen

By Wednesday, Alice felt herself going stir crazy. The doctor had looked at her wound. All signs pointed to her making a full and speedy recovery. But for Alice, it couldn't happen fast enough. They still restricted her activities. No running Currahee, no weight training, only prescribed stretches, and definitely no combat training. On top of all that, the boys disappeared at 0500 and didn't return for any meaningful amount of time until dinner. And as much as she found herself loathe to admit, she really, genuinely missed them.

She took a walk by herself while the boys ran Currahee after lunch. That morning, Sobel had been promoted to Captain, and he took great pleasure in forcing the also newly promoted Dick Winters to cook a spaghetti meal for the men. Of course, being Sobel, he'd also decided to cancel lecture after lunch in favor of Currahee. Alice could only imagine how terrible the men would be feeling. And on top of feeling for the men, Alice felt incredibly dejected to not be able to sit in on a lecture with her friends.

Friends. The word felt heavy in her mind. She'd often off the cuff mentioned friendship to them. When George had started the cheek kissing, he'd said friend. But for the first time since arriving in America, Alice truly believed it. They were friends. And it hurt her to think so. She'd never been in the sort of combat that likely awaited the 506th someday, but she'd lost Maquis fighters. It hurt, every single time.

Along with Winters and Sobel's promotions, the men had received a few over a couple of days. Lipton, Talbert, Ranney, and Harris became Sergeants, and many of the rest of the men were promoted to Corporal. By Tuesday morning they had already lost their weekend passes due to miniscule infractions.

As Alice contemplated the murder of Sobel, she rounded the barracks. The men of Easy Company strode out of their barracks, towels and shower kits in hand. Many of them looked worse for wear, and she saw Gene and Spina looking over a few. Alice frowned. She spotted Nixon and Dick walking side by side. The former's eyes blazed in anger. She jogged to join them.

"Didn't go well?" Alice looked back at the men again. Then she looked the two Lieutenants up and down. "Are you two all right?"

"The men managed," Dick said.

But Nixon scoffed. "Sobel's a bastard. A smart bastard, but still a bastard. The company hates him so much he may wake up with a grenade in his shorts someday."

"Nix you can't just talk like that."

But Nixon just scoffed. Alice left them to go shower, turning instead back to the enlisted men. She hurried back to the barracks. To her surprise, a letter sat on her bed. Alice looked at it carefully. It definitely wasn't Nixon's. The handwriting on the envelope looked scratchy, quickly written. She opened it, sitting on her cot. Immediately she smiled.

"Dear love of my life,

"I bet you can guess it's George Luz. Doc came up with the idea to write you letters and I figured I'd take advantage of being able to write you a love letter while I could. Frank is brushing his teeth as I write this. That man is crazy about his dental hygiene.

"Hope you're enjoying no Currahee. I tried to take up your singing talent today (Monday), but I don't think the boys like me as much as your French. Can't say I blame them. Jesus, your French is amazing. Are all you French people amazing, or is it just you?

"I don't know what to say in this. So maybe I'll just ask some questions. Since, you know, we actually don't know that much about you.

"1. What's your favorite color (this is Maria's favorite question so I need to ask it)

"2. Do you prefer to think of yourself as French or German?

"3. When's your birthday?

"See you after dinner,

"Corporal George Luz."

Alice put the letter down as the barracks door opened. Liebgott, Muck, and Malarkey wandered in. The foremost still ran a towel over his hair. He looked absolutely furious, and the others didn't look much happier.

For a moment, Alice considered asking about the run. But the looks on their faces stopped her. Slowly the men trickled in from the showers, most of them looking horribly sick. Half an hour later, Gene came by.

"Sink's talked to the doctors. We're all off the rest of the day." He then stopped by Alice's cot.

"Salut," she said. She shot him a small smile.

Gene nodded, sighing. He ran a hand over his face. "Ça va?"

"Oui, ça va, mais nos amis ne sont pas." She looked past Gene at the others.

He agreed that the men looked worse for wear. With a frown, he turned back to her. "Spina's checking on first platoon. I'm supposed to check on third now. Watch them for me."

As he left, she smiled. "Gene, merci, pour les lettres."

His quick nod and smile made her feel a little less helpless. She looked around. The men groaned in their beds, a few with helmets grasped close in case of vomiting. George, Perconte, and Penkala wandered in last and collapsed, still slightly wet from their showers.

Suddenly George grabbed his helmet and started retching. Alice felt herself hurting inside for him. He looked white as a sheet. If she hadn't realized before that she considered these men friends, she did then. Alice moved. She sat next to George who didn't even have a ghost of a smile. She held his forehead as he struggled to throw up again into his helmet.

"Tu vas bien, tu vas bien."

She held him as the trembling stopped. Then she let him lay back down, getting up and taking a few of the buckets from other victims outside. There, she ran into Gene who took them and handed her some bedpans instead.

Liebgott was next. She ran a hand through his damp hair and held him until his body had had enough. He didn't say anything as she moved away, just watched her. With each man, she did her best to help them without crossing boundaries. As much as she desired to hold them, ease their pain, she knew some would take the contact better than others.

After about an hour, Alice sighed and wandered out of the barracks. Most of, if not all, the men had fallen asleep. She sat on the step and watched a few other companies running around Camp Toccoa. To her pleasant surprise, Dick and Nixon trailed over to her.

"How are they?" Dick asked.

Alice sighed. "I think they're finally all sleeping. One of you wouldn't mind waiting while I take a shower, would you?"

"Of course not," said Dick. "Go get your stuff."

She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then she nodded. Slipping inside took all the skill she had to not wake them up. She grabbed her shower kit, towel, and change of uniform. Both Nixon and Dick stood waiting.

"How much trouble would I get in if Sobel accidentally broke his leg?" Alice muttered. "Accidentally of course."

"Well if it was an accident, no trouble at all," said Nixon.

To her surprise, Dick didn't even make an admonishing comment. They walked over to the Officers' showers. Fox Company ran in groups of eight around the footpaths. They gave Alice contempt glances with every pass. She ignored them.

"Thank you. I won't take long."

She stepped into the showers and began to strip. With her clothes to the side, she pulled the chain to turn on the water. It ran warm over her skin, finding ever crevice to clean. She gingerly cleaned the ugly red scab over her left stomach and side. It felt glorious to be clean. With each scrub of her hair, she felt the weight of the world lift off her shoulders. Eventually she just stood, face under the stream of water. But she knew she needed to turn off the water. Alice did so with a sigh. Her towel did a decent dry job. Once all her clothes were on, she focused on her hair. It fell in slightly tangled golden waves to just below her shoulders.

She stepped out of the showers and found the two other Lieutenants muttering. Nixon had his flask out. She grimaced at them.

"Drink?" Nixon offered.

Alice hesitated and then shrugged. "Why not."

She took his flask and sniffed it. It smelled like scotch whiskey. And when the slight burning coated her tongue and throat, she knew she was right. Alice handed it back.

"Vat 69. The best," he added. Then he took his own drink. Offering it to Dick, Nixon laughed at his insistent 'no'.

She shrugged. "I prefer wine myself."

They trio made their quiet way back to the barracks. As they walked, a runner came for Dick. Colonel Sink wanted to speak to him. So Nixon and Alice continued on by themselves. She had yet to thank him for the letter from Sunday.

"Nix," she said. Then she hesitated. "I wanted to say thank you. For the letter."

He laughed. "You had me worried for a second. Don't pause after using a nickname."

Alice looked at him and laughed. "Sorry."

They reached the barracks and she thanked him again, this time for walking her over. As she took the step up, she steeled herself for whatever she might find. She hoped they were all still asleep. She had to think about George's letter.

"Hey, Alice." When she turned around at Nixon's words, he raised his flask. "Take my advice." Then he walked away.

Alice turned back to the door. She turned the handle quietly. To her immense relief, the boys still slept soundly. She tiptoed as much as she could wearing combat boots. Sitting down on the side of her bed, she smiled at their peaceful faces. Alice used her towel to dry her hair a bit more. With a quick brushing and taking off her boots, she settled against the wall on her cot.

Les Misérables comforted her as she sat, it weighing in her lap, closed. She let her mind wander back to France. If she closed her eyes, she could smell the patisserie, and the taste of mulled wine being vendored on the way up to Sacré Cœur. Her gaze would roam over the green art boxes along the Seine. And her language, the beautiful language her mama had whispered in her ear every night before bed, would accompany her.

She could see Bernadette dancing in their flat. Her feet would glide over the dark wood floors, and her beautiful voice would entwine with Alice's own as they sang melodies their mama composed for them. And Marc would laugh, and spin Bernadette in circles until the girl fell, dizzy, to the ground. Alice would sit with Robert, digging into the cheese and crackers their father had bought that morning. And mama and father would clap, and laugh. Finally they would get up to, and join Marc and Bernadette dancing. Bernadette would pull Alice by the hand, and soon she would be twirling alongside Robert in an effort to appease their youngest sibling.

"Je suis désolé," she whispered.

And she was. She was so sorry, sorry that the world would miss the laughter her siblings brought to the world. She regretted that her Mama's melodies had been silenced. And most of all, she was sorry they would never see a world without the Nazis.