A/N: As you can probably imagine, this was a really tricky chapter to write (partially why it took so long). I don't want to presume to understand the full magnitude of what the people who liberated the concentration camps felt, so I tried not to focus a ton on the emotional reactions, but I also didn't want to seem like I was skipping over that stuff and trivializing it/using it as just a plot device to move things forward. I tried to walk that line very carefully, but I'm sure that it still isn't ideal.

Chapter 20

"Kissed how?" Luz asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What do you mean 'kissed how'?" Nora asked. She had pulled Luz aside while everyone prepared the caravan for their next excursion so that she could bring him up to speed and get a feel for how to proceed with her (probably very hungover) commanding officer.

"On the lips?" He prompted.

"Of course on the lips," Nora replied, exasperated.

"Okay, so was it like a quick one or was it...involved?" He followed up. Nora felt her cheeks heat up, and she didn't answer. Luz got the idea. "When was this?"

"The night of the patrol," Nora answered, avoiding eye contact.

"That long ago?"

"I know, I'm sorry," Nora continued, "I didn't tell anyone because I didn't think it would lead to anything."

"And it has?"

"No," she insisted, "Well, except for last night's little display."

"Otherwise known as the most entertaining thing to happen to me the entire war," Luz replied.

"You can't tell anyone," Nora said, glancing around nervously to double-check that no one was listening, "I mean it."

Luz's expression softened and became more sincere, "Nora, don't worry. You know I wouldn't do anything that could hurt you."

Nora smiled and laid a grateful hand on his shoulder, squeezing it.

"Babe, on the other hand, has no self control. You gotta watch that kid," He added.

"Oh, I know," Nora agreed, matching the teasing glint in his eye. Her smile fell, and she straightened, going back to the business of the morning. "So, what does Speirs remember? Did he say anything to you and Lip this morning?"

"About…?" Luz asked, causing Nora to punch him in the arm. "Alright, alright," he said, rubbing the tender spot, "He didn't say anything, but if you ask me, he definitely remembers something."

"Damn it," Nora sighed.

"If you wanna hide out on a truck with me, we can kick Frank out and make him walk." Luz offered, giving her a sympathetic look.

A smile pulled at Nora's lips, and she shook her head. Avoiding him would only make it worse, "as much as I'd enjoy that, I don't think so. I'll be okay."

Ronald Speirs might not remember everything - there was no way of knowing on his own if he was forgetting something, and he refused to ask his bunkmates - but he remembered enough to know that he was in a predicament. He rubbed his temples, trying to nurse his aching head, as he weaved between men scurrying to their vehicles for departure.

When Nora crossed his path, both parties stopped in their tracks, standing square with each other and looking like a couple of deer in headlights. He had expected her to drop her head and keep moving like she had in the wake of the kiss. When she, instead, glued herself in place and waited, he wasn't sure how to respond.

Sorry I woke you from a dead sleep and demanded you kiss me. And marry me. And told you I didn't love you. Well, not that I do love you, but I don't not-

"Morning," He said instead.

"Morning," Nora parroted back, still unmoving, like prey afraid to excite it's opponent. He had intended to try and say more, but he was suddenly overcome by the concern that he really had said more than he remembered, and it put him at a loss for how to proceed. It was also at that inopportune moment that an image of her in that short, silk slip from the night before materialized in his brain. Nora stood there for another agonizingly long moment before glancing around and then excusing herself, heading for a jeep at the front of the caravan.

Ron watched her go, chewing the inside of his cheek in frustration.

"Sir?" A voice cut through his thoughts. Lipton was eyeing him expectantly. "Ready to go?"

Ron put his hands on his hips and pivoted again to watch as Nixon helped Nora up into the back of a jeep and settled in next to her. She had been with Nixon almost constantly for the past few weeks. Ron knew Nora well enough to know that she probably didn't think anything of the close proximity, but it still grated on his nerves, especially after he heard the news of Nixon's divorce. He could hardly get a moment with her, the way that guy hung around. Then again, he'd had a moment just now, hadn't he? She had provided it for him, stood there and waited (for God knows what reason), and he had let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

"I'll be up there," He finally replied, nodding toward the jeep. Before Lipton could say anything else, he walked away. He reached the jeep just as Winters was climbing into the passenger seat next to the driver.

"Speirs," Winters greeted, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Ron usually rode a couple of cars back with Lipton and a few others, "you wanna drive?"

"That's alright, sir," Ron declined, climbing instead up into the back of the jeep where Nora and Nixon sat.

"Oh," Nora said, surprised, as she leaned away to avoid getting hit by his leg as it swung over into the seat. She scooted over to make room, and he settled in next to her. The backseat of the jeep was large enough to seat three people, but just barely - they'd been doing four per jeep for a reason. Nora sat straight as a board between Nixon and Ron, pressed close from both sides. It didn't help that Nixon still sat slouched against the other side, his knees casually spread wide. Nora didn't seem to care too much, but her posture was stiff and tense as the caravan set out and the jeep began moving.

Ron watched the scenery blur past as they drove through the Bavarian countryside. The men in the trucks behind them had begun to sing, as they often did to pass the time on these trips. He glanced sideways at Nora, whose eyes kept fluttering closed. She looked exhausted, and he wondered if she'd had a difficult time falling back asleep after he'd woken her up last night. What had she been thinking about after she dropped him off at his room? She hadn't seemed fazed by him at all when she walked out. At least, not in his recollection, though that was murky at best. Then again, Nora made an art out of being unfazed. It was half the reason he'd taken an interest in her in the first place, but now it was his undoing.

Her head bobbed forward and then rose quickly again as the change in orientation woke her up. Her eyes almost immediately fluttered closed again, and he watched her go through the process two more times. Shifting carefully so as to not wake her, he arched his back a bit and rolled his shoulder, stretching his arm out behind her. He was careful to keep his arm on the back of the seat instead of her shoulders. The new position shifted him even closer to her, though, and the proximity of the nook where his arm and shoulder met was suggestive enough to Nora's sleepy mind that her head rolled right into it. Ron's chest swelled a bit at the victory, but he checked himself quickly, aware that Nixon was watching him, and went back to watching the scenery pass.

A good while later, when the jeep slowed down and began to take more turns, Nora seemed to sense the difference and started stirring. Ron, who had been absentmindedly drawing circles on her arm with a finger, retracted his arm so that it wasn't touching her and straightened. She lifted her head and blinked blearily, looking around. When her eyes landed on him, she straightened and glanced down, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Sorry," she murmured tiredly, a faint blush appearing across the top of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose as she noticed the place where she had drooled on his uniform jacket. He gave her a slight nod and what he hoped was a reassuring smile (though he wasn't known for that), and they moved to unload as the jeep pulled to a stop. Nixon had already hopped out of the jeep and come around to the sidewalk when Ron jumped out and turned to help Nora down over the side. She stretched a bit when she got her feet on the ground and immediately moved to speak to Winters, all business. Nixon was standing next to Ron with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised.

"What?" Ron challenged him finally.

"You're not gonna start pissing on things, are you?" Nixon asked with an unimpressed look. Ron ignored the man and turned to join Winters, who was beckoning him over.

"I want to send out some patrols," Winters said, "We'll have Dog here in the village; Easy and Fox in the woods."

"Easy Company's gonna take the northwest," Ron replied, nodding and turning to Lipton, who had approached their group, "Lt. Lipton?"

"Sir?"

"Have first and second platoon swing up to the woods; have third swing around," He ordered. Lipton nodded and turned to relay the orders to Talbert. Once the men began dispersing, Ron turned to find Nora, but only caught sight of her back as she walked determinedly at Winters' side to help him organize the other companies. A small, frustrated sigh escaped him, and he turned to see Welsh watching him with a smirk.

"You're killing me, Speirs," He said, pushing off the jeep he was leaning against and snickering as he walked off.

When Winters sought Ron out again, it was because Perconte had returned alone and in a panic. A few of the officers quickly gathered and climbed into jeeps, following Perconte's lead as he directed them to the place where he'd left the rest of the men. A couple of trucks with extra men followed behind, as Perconte insisted that they would be needed. Winters hadn't said anything specific about where they were going or why, probably because Perconte was having trouble articulating it even to him. Whatever it was, it was serious, and the thought put Ron on edge.

Nora, who had squeezed into the back of the jeep next to him again, was wringing her hands in her lap as they slowed and turned a corner in the road that took them out of the woods to a clearing. They could see the men standing before a large fence with barbed-wire running along the top edge. Ron leaned forward in his seat to get a better look and took off his helmet. The jeep pulled to a stop and they all climbed out, staring in silence as they tried to piece together what exactly they were looking at. Nora was the first to move, stepping closer to the fence.

"Nora," Ron reached out to place a hand on her shoulder and bid her to wait, but she slid out from under it, seeming not to hear him in her disbelief. The men behind the fence stood, unmoving, staring back at them with their own measure of disbelief.

"Dick, what is this place?" Nora asked, turning to look at the Major for reassurance. Ron looked to Winters as well, and the man shook his head slightly.

"I don't know," He answered honestly. There were two sets of gates, and the men opened up the first set as Winters, Nora, Ron, and Nixon approached. The men inside, clothed like prisoners and desperately malnourished, leaned on the second set and waited quietly. Winters turned to Christenson, "Open it up."

Perconte produced a large bolt cutter and stepped forward to cut the chains that held the gate shut. Christenson instructed the men to step back so that they could swing the gates inward. The group hesitated for a moment, and Ron took the lead, walking in first. Whatever was happening here, these men certainly weren't in good enough health to be dangerous.

The others followed behind Ron, and the inmates converged on them, reaching out to touch them and grasp at their uniforms. They seemed to be expressing gratitude. Ron looked over his shoulder to locate Nora. She looked lost as she surveyed the men's faces, and Ron offered her his arm to help ground her. She accepted, wordlessly grabbing his sleeve and stepping forward with him.

"I need Liebgott," Winters was saying somewhere behind them, "Liebgott!"

Lipton ran off to find a translator, and Ron turned to look further into the camp when he heard Nora gasp. Dozens more men were emerging from the barracks, some being carried because they were too weak to walk. The sight of these men in even worse condition seemed to snap Nora into another state of mind, because she immediately surged forward to help, instructing a man to lay his friend on the ground and twisting the cap off of her canteen to dribble water into his mouth. As the enlisted men made their way further into camp, she began giving orders.

When Liebgott made it to the front of the group, Ron stepped into the cluster of officers, who had pulled aside a man who seemed willing to answer their questions. Liebgott translated the horrific story of what had happened when the guards of the camp learned that the Americans had rolled into town. The details were gruesome and difficult to hear, but Ron resisted the urge to step away. Winters asked what kind of camp this was, and Liebgott translated as the man explained that they had been imprisoned for being untermensch - "inferior" or "unwanted" people. They also learned that there was a women's camp at the next railroad stop. Ron's stomach turned at the thought of another place like this one, except full of women, and he swallowed, forcing the nausea back down. How long had this been going on? How many of these camps existed?

The officers dispersed and began walking around the camp as well, trying to make sense of what they were seeing and better understand what they were dealing with. There were bodies everywhere, and the stench of death was overwhelming. All around, men were wailing - whether for their suffering, for their liberation, or for both - Ron was unsure. After a little while, Nixon sought him out and told him to figure out how they could get some more food and water to the camp. Ron, in turn, sought out Lipton and they took some of their men into town to find food, which they hauled back in a truckload.

As the evening drove on, they passed out as much food as they could, trying to make sure that all of the men got at least a little bit, and Ron continued to send soldiers on water runs to bring back more fresh water. Though the distribution was chaotic, things were looking up until Colonel Sink arrived with a doctor who told them that they would have to take away the food and lock the men back up. It was almost more than the Easy men could take, but it had to be done. By dusk, they had managed to get all of the food back into the trucks and everyone back into the camp. The men, exhausted and weary, were loading up into the transport vehicles and preparing to return to town for the night. A few men were still inside, having trouble extricating themselves from the men that they were helping. Ron had sent Grant through the camp one more time to warn everyone that it was time to leave.

"We ready?" He asked as Grant appeared at the gate again, looking uncertain.

"Almost," He replied, "Sir, it's Captain Price. She says she's staying."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Ron murmured with a sigh, hands on his hips. He entered the camp again with Grant on his heels. Grant pointed him in the direction of Nora, who was crouched over a man who lay on the ground, barely conscious. She was dabbing his head with a cold rag.

"He has a fever," She said absent-mindedly when Ron crouched down to get on her level.

"The medical team just got in. We'll send someone over here to stay with him." Ron replied.

"I know," Nora said, "I'm going to stay with the medical team - they could probably use all the hands they can get."

"No, Nora, you need to come back to town and get some rest." Ron told her calmly, eyeing her. She hadn't looked up at him even once yet, and she didn't seem like she was looking at much of anything as she worked - her movements were careful and deliberate, but her eyes were vacant, "We've done all we can for today - it's time to hand it over to someone else."

"I'll be fine," Nora insisted, "Go ahead. Just a few more hours, and then I promise I'll come back. You can send someone to get me in a few hours."

"Nora, I'm not asking," he told her, rising from his crouched position. He placed a hand on her elbow and tried to pull her up, and she yanked it away, recoiling from his grasp with an indignant glare before going back to her work. Ron took a step back, shoving his tongue into his cheek to stop himself from reacting. This certainly wasn't the time or the place. He turned to face Grant, who averted his eyes from the scene out of respect, though he'd very obviously witnessed the confrontation. Ron released a measured breath through his nose before speaking.

"Grant, I need Luz." He said. Grant nodded and hurried off, returning with Luz a few minutes later. Ron stepped back as Luz approached, and the shorter man nodded at him to signal that he would handle it - Grant must have explained the situation already. Luz crouched next to Nora and began speaking to her in low tones. Ron stepped even further away, trying to give them some space, and knowing that he'd only be more frustrated if he could hear it anyway. He wished that she would allow him to comfort her.

Luz and Nora continued speaking, and Ron could tell from the tone of Nora's voice that she was still generally resistant, though she didn't draw back from Luz the way she had from him. After a minute, she rose reluctantly with Luz, who kept an arm around her shoulders to guide her.

"She's gonna ride back in the trucks with us, Sir," He told Ron as he guided her away. Ron nodded, watching them pass, and then glanced at Grant again, who was still doing his best to act like he was minding his own business.

"Tell the others that the trucks can go ahead and head back once everyone's loaded up," Ron told him, "I'm gonna stay back with Major Winters for a few minutes and talk to Sink and the head physicians, just to make sure everything's in order before we leave."

When the jeep carrying the rest of the officers back to town pulled up to the curb, Lipton was waiting for them with a solemn look on his face.

"Everything alright, Lieutenant?" Winters asked him as they climbed out.

"Yes, sir," Lipton assured him - his lips pulled up into a ghost of a smile to reassure the man, and though it wasn't entirely convincing, Winters chose not to press the matter. He and Nixon headed for the house that had been set up for officers' quarters, and Ron stayed behind when Lipton grabbed his arm to pull him aside.

"What's wrong, Lipton?"

"One of the men saw Nora take a jeep and leave a little while ago."

"By herself?" Ron asked. Lipton nodded, "Where?"

"I'm guessing to the women's camp," he replied, "Luz said one of the men was telling her about it on the ride back."

Ron laced his hands behind his head and craned his neck to look at the sky. He needed to keep his composure.

Then again.

"Damn it!" He cursed, kicking the bumper of the jeep in his frustration, "That woman answers to no one."

"With all due respect?" Lipton began, watching the outburst with a slightly raised eyebrow. Ron waited for him to continue, running a hand over his face, "She's a Captain, sir."

The implication was clear: it was your call to increase her rank privileges to match a man's- you can't just decide to revoke it whenever you want to order her around.

"That doesn't mean she gets free reign," Ron argued, pointing a finger at him, "She leaves without talking to Winters? Without telling anyone where she's going?"

A small group of men had started to gather on the sidewalk to watch their C.O.'s outburst.

"Should I alert Major Winters?" Lipton asked hesitantly.

Ron muttered to himself for a moment, then shook his head and circled the jeep, yanking open the driver's side door.

"Sir, maybe I should come along," Lipton suggested, taking a step toward the passenger door.

"No," Ron replied, his tone curt, "You stay here, and if she comes back, make sure she stays put."

Ron only made it a mile and a half down the dark, tree-lined road before his headlights revealed a vehicle that was pulled over to the side. He slowed as he got closer, leaning forward in his seat to try and identify the vehicle. He pulled over and rolled to a stop behind it. When he recognized the braided hair of the person sitting motionless in the driver's seat, he turned off his ignition, plunging everything back into darkness. The full moon was out, and he climbed out of the vehicle more quickly than his eyes could adjust, rushing around to the passenger side door. Nora sat with her hands gripping the steering wheel, leaning forward so that her forehead also pressed against the cool metal. He couldn't see her face, but her breathing was ragged.

"Price?" He asked slowly, trying not to startle her. "Nora?"

No response met his greeting, but she did take in a sudden, gasping breath that turned into a sob, her shoulders shaking. He wordlessly opened the door and climbed into the passenger's seat, pivoting sideways to face her. He leaned forward and spread a hand slowly over the space between her shoulder blades, worried that she would pull back like she had earlier. She didn't move.

"How c-could this happen?" She gasped. Hearing the question out loud seemed to work her up more, and Ron sat silently as her body was wracked with sobs. He didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say.

"I don't know." He said finally. She continued to cry for a few more minutes before she started to come down from it. When her breathing had evened into deep, exhausted breaths, she leaned back against the seat, and Ron moved his hand from her back, placing it instead on the seat behind her. Her profile stood out against the darkness as the moonlight reflected off her skin, and the tear tracks on her cheeks glistened. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, trying to control the snot that she'd generated from crying. Ron swallowed a lump in his throat, wishing he had an explanation for the horror they'd seen today - wishing he could process it himself.

"The people in town," She began, pausing as another shuddering breath passed through her lungs, "they knew, didn't they?"

Ron was quiet for a moment before nodding, "Yeah. Yeah, I think they did."

"And they just looked the other way?" She asked, "How could they do that? I always thought that people were generally good. Is this what we are? Is everyone capable of this?"

"You wouldn't have looked the other way."

"How do you know?" She challenged him, "Maybe, if I lived here...and there was enough pressure...and things were changing just a little bit at a time…"

"No," Ron said firmly, "Not you. You have more conviction than any person I've ever met."

He could tell from the way she was chewing the inside of her cheek that she wasn't so sure. That her faith in humanity had been fractured. He wasn't sure what to say, so he simply settled on the image that was playing in his mind - an image that he had returned to more than once since he'd gone to war.

"You know what you were doing the first time I saw you?" He asked. Nora sniffled again, and he pulled his handkerchief out of his uniform pocket and handed it to her.

"Falling to my death?" She asked, releasing a breath that was a cross between a laugh and a sob.

"No, at Toccoa," he clarified as she blew her nose, "you were tearing up your hands on that damn wall obstacle."

Nora's eyebrows furrowed, and she turned her head to look at him. He could see the cogs turning in her head as she tried to remember if he'd been there or not.

"You must've tried to get over that wall 50 times," He pressed on, "I remember standing there, watching you wear yourself out, and thinking 'every time she tries, she's less likely to make it over."

The look on Nora's face as she stared at him was unreadable, and it made Ron shift uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how vulnerable he was being. "But, uh, you didn't seem to think so." He added. He waited for Nora to say something, but she didn't, so he continued. "The point is, you're gonna be whatever you decide to be, Nora. I have no doubt about that."

She gave him a small, close-lipped smile that he could tell was more for his own benefit than anything, and turned back to look out the windshield. He sat and watched her profile again patiently. It was another minute before she spoke.

"I'm sorry that I took off," She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Lipton was worried," He replied. A laugh escaped Nora, but it quickly turned back into a sob. "We can sit here for a little while. If you're…" he trailed off, realizing that 'if you're not finished crying yet,' might not be received as genuinely as he meant it. Still, Nora picked up on the offer and nodded, more sobs rising in her like a tidal wave.

Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward him, and she went willingly, burying her face into his chest. His arms tightened around her and she slid over the console without a second thought, curling into his lap like a child. Every shuddering sob seemed to echo out of her chest and into his own, bouncing around in his ribcage and stealing the air from his lungs. Ron rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes. A thousand images from the day, images that he knew he'd recall even to his deathbed, flitted across the back of his eyelids. The sun had set, but the day would linger.