Set before the events of Little Bear: Mission Impossible

While out helping Hogan's men bring in downed fliers into camp, Maisie comes across one who is seriously injured. His last request is for her to write a letter home to his mother.

*TW* Death

Goodbye, Mother. Remember Me.

Quietly, Maisie continued on her way through the forest. Nothing stirred, everywhere was quiet and still- She stopped as a sound reached her ears and listened carefully. It sounded like a soft moan. Cautiously, she stepped closer to the sound, trying to locate where it had come from.

Coming out of some thick bushes, she could see a parachute up in the trees and sped up-

The sound of a pistol safety being flicked off stopped her dead in her tracks.

'You can put that away.' She said softly, turning to the sound. Lying on the ground, holding one arm over his stomach as the other held a pistol on her, was a young American flier. Somehow, he had managed to cut himself out of his parachute. Her heart skipped a beat, but her face remained emotionless. Being on the business end of a gun had that effect on a person. 'I am a friend, I'd appreciate it if you'd be kind enough to put that down.'

'Don't come any closer….' He hissed, attempting to prop himself up better so he was in a better position to defend himself. 'Filthy Kraut.'

Maisie's face remained emotionless as both of them eyed the other. In the dim light, she could make out he had some kind of injury even though he was trying to hide that fact. 'I can help you.'

'Help me?' He scoffed. 'Turn me over, you mean.'

'No-' She took a step closer and his finger went to the trigger. 'You are hurt, I can help you.'

'Don't move-'

'I wouldn't shoot me, if I were you. The sound of a gunshot travels at night.' She held her gaze steady with him, looking him in the eyes as she took another step towards him. 'These forests would be crawling with patrols before you'd get five meters. I passed three just to make my way here.'

He looked her up and down again, his strength beginning to waver the longer he held the pistol on her. 'And just what are you doing here?'

'Saw your plane go down. My job is to find you boys that bail out before the Germans do.'

'But you are German-'

'Who is also half American. Put the pistol down, please. We don't have much time to get you moved out of here before a patrol comes by. They will be out looking for you.' After a moment, he lowered the pistol, and she knelt down beside him. The man lay back down as she flicked on her flashlight. He had multiple lacerations and a large gash near his hairline, but as her eyes averted down his chest to his stomach, she knew that this flier wouldn't be returning to the skies. Oh no… Her heart sank as she saw the wound; he'd been gut shot and already had lost a lot of blood. Blood had soaked through his jacket, two holes almost in the center of his abdomen. It wasn't the entry wounds that concerned her, it was the exit wounds and the internal damage that had been done when the bullets had gone through. Her mind went over her options, but being five miles from camp, alone, there was nothing she could do for him. A wound like this was likely to cause death at the best of times, even with medical attention.

'It's bad… Isn't it?'

She was roused from her thoughts by the softly spoken question, and she looked back at his face. She nodded, turning off the flashlight. 'It's not good. I'm sorry.'

'Kraut got me good-' He began to cough, looking up at her in surprise as she lifted his head, holding a handkerchief to his mouth. When he finished coughing, she lay him back down gently. 'Bloody Jerry.'

She placed the bloodied handkerchief down on the ground, looking back at the young man. 'What is your name?'

'Charles White. What about you?'

'Maisie Hogan.'

He frowned a little. 'That doesn't sound German at all.'

'I did say I was part American, didn't I?' She replied, with a smile, then turned serious. 'Charles, your wound-'

'I'm going to die… Aren't I? Can… Can you do something for me?'

'Of course.' Gently, she took hold of his clammy hand. 'What would you like me to do?'

'My mother… Can you write a letter for me?'

'I don't have anything to write with, but if you tell me what you wish to say, I promise to make sure that it is sent to her.'

'Thank you. Her name is Carolyn White-' He was interrupted by another coughing fit, the girl again helping him sit up until it was over.

'Just take it easy, there's no rush,' she said softly, once he'd finished. She could see he was weakening and in pain; she wished there was something she could do for him. The thought that a patrol might find them crossed her mind again, but she couldn't and wouldn't leave this young man to die alone.

'Lives in Cheyenne, Wyoming…' He continued once he was able. 'Dearest Mother…'

Maisie listened attentively to every word the young pilot spoke, time slipping steadily. When Charles had finished narrating what he wished her to write, she could see that he was weakening. Another coughing fit produced more blood with it, more than he'd had previously, and she knew it wouldn't be much longer before his injuries claimed his life.

'You'll… be sure… she gets the letter?'

She nodded, running her fingers through his matted, bloodied hair. 'I promise. You have my word; your mother will receive your letter.'

'Thank you.'

She smiled a little. 'Do you have any siblings at home?'

'No… I was… the only child…' He replied, beginning to struggle to get the words out. 'My mother is alone… my father died… when I was young. Won't be long now… I guess… until I see him again… What… about… you?'

'My family was killed at the beginning of the war. I was taken in by the prisoners of Stalag 13.' She saw the expression on his face, and it brought a little smile to her lips. 'Crazy, yes, I know. Colonel Hogan, the man I take my name from, has an Underground resistance movement running from inside the camp. I assist in whatever way I can.'

'Isn't… that… dangerous?'

'No more dangerous than you boys in the skies, I suppose.'

'How old are you, Maisie?'

'Turned fifteen a few months ago. What about you?'

'It was… to be my… twenty-first birthday… in three weeks.'

Another life cut short, for what? His coughing started once more, and when she'd lay him back down, she took hold of his hand again.

'Won't… be… long… now…' He could feel his strength leaving him, feeling cold all of a sudden.

Maisie squeezed his hand gently. 'Would you like me to hold you?'

'Cold….'

As gently and carefully as she could, she took him onto her lap, stroking his hair back.

Charles looked up at her, their eyes meeting again. 'I see… the face… of an… angel.'

And like that, he took one last shuddering breath and was gone.

'You fought well, Charles White.' A tear slipped down her cheek as she gently closed his eyes that could no longer see. 'Your war is won. May your soul find peace.'

Gently, she lay his body down on the bloodied grass once more, then turned on her flashlight. It only took her a moment to take one of his dog tags from around his neck and slip it into her pocket, the teen lingering a little while longer beside his body. For Charles White, his part in the war was over. His battle had been fought. His time had come to an end.

She stood. There was nothing else she could do for him now. She had stayed until his end and was determined to see her promise through; the letter home to his mother.

She was about to leave, when the sound of a German patrol reached her ears and knew she had to go before they spotted her. As silently as a ghost, she slipped through the trees once more and into the night. A couple minutes later, she heard them find the body. The next, the sound of someone following her-

Maisie ran.

An order was shouted at her to halt, but she kept running on, dropping to the ground when the first shots in her direction were fired. She covered her head with her arms, lying stock still as both her Uncle and Hogan had taught her. Panic filled her as a bullet struck the dirt uncomfortably close to her head, the girl praying with all her being she wouldn't be hit. A moment later, the shooting stopped and was replaced with the sound of shouting.

Getting to her feet, she ran on.

After what seemed like an eternity, the patrol appeared to finally give up, and she rested for a minute to catch her breath and gain her bearings. Her heart pounded as she pulled her compass from her pocket. It had been a close call. Too close.

You really must stop dancing with death. One of these days, it will step on your toes.

The next thought was equally unsettling.

Where am I?

In her efforts to evade the patrol, she hadn't taken notice of which direction she'd gone or how far she'd run. She'd been so concerned about getting the patrol off her tail that nothing else had mattered then. Now, it was a different matter. She was lost, and that was not a good place to be in.

Don't panic, don't panic. Stay calm, she reminded herself, leaning against a tree to rest. Rule number one, don't panic. Stay calm and think things through.

By the time her heart had slowed a little and her breathing had returned close to normal, she'd come up with a plan of action. Find the nearest landmark that she knew, and go from there.

Minutes slipped by, and she guessed that Hogan and the rest of the team were probably nearly out of their minds with worry. She flicked on her flashlight to glance at the time. It was almost four in the morning. If she didn't get back to camp before daybreak… She willed her tired legs to run faster, making her way up a steep hill in an attempt to reach higher ground.

When she reached the top, she looked around. A cloud moved away from the moon, a thin light illuminating the countryside. There, in the distance, was a lone barn. Relief flooded through her. She knew that barn. She'd found a landmark to go off. It wouldn't be long now before she would be home….

'Sit down, sir-' Newkirk spoke, with concern, Hogan pacing across his floor for the thousandth time. ' 'fore you fall down.'

'What could have happened? What's taking her so long-'

'You and I both know that little Miss is more than capable of handling herself.'

'Why did you and Carter leave her in the first place? You shouldn't have left her out there-'

'Colonel Hogan-' His voice was firmer, the colonel turning to face him. 'Maisie wasn't coming back until she'd found the last man. She made the decision to continue on alone since we had to bring back the others-'

'You do realize what the time is?'

The corporal glanced at his watch. It was almost four-thirty. Bloody hell…

Hogan finally sat, wearily running a hand over his head. 'I swear that girl intends to turn every last hair of mine gray.'

Newkirk placed a hand on his arm. 'I'm sure she's just fine, sir. We both know what she's capable of.'

'It's the first time she's been out there alone… Anything could have happened.'

'She learned her lessons well, you said so yourself it wouldn't be long before she'd be ready for a solo mission. It just happened a little early, is all.'

'The forest will be littered with patrols looking for the downed fliers. If she gets picked up…' He sighed heavily, resting his head on his hands. 'If she doesn't make it back by sunrise, go look for her. We'll cover you here.'

Newkirk nodded. 'Course, G'vnor. Perhaps I should go take a little look 'round now?'

He looked at his watch again. 'We'll both take a look. Come on.' Quietly, the two of them made their way through the barracks and down into the tunnel. As they went to climb up the ladder to the tunnel entrance outside camp, a figure began to descend the ladder. 'God, Maisie, thank God you're alright. We've been worried about you-' The teen took no notice of him, staring straight through him almost. 'Maisie?'

Maisie made no reply, no acknowledgment that she'd heard him. Instead, she left the two bewildered men and made her way through the tunnel, disappearing from sight around a corner.

Newkirk turned to Hogan. 'What'd you make of that?'

'I have no idea…' He mused, then placed his hand on the corporal's shoulder. 'Go get some sleep. I'll go speak with Maisie.'

Despite it being only a couple hours from roll call, the idea of sleep was rather enticing. 'Sounds like a bloody good idea.'

Both of them went back up into the barracks, Newkirk to his bunk and Hogan took a look around before checking his room. Maisie was in there, seated at his desk, and he closed the door behind him, approaching her slowly.

Maisie was writing (attempting to, at least) something as he came up behind her, looking over her shoulder. A frown creased his brow as he read along as she wrote…

Dearest Mother,

By the time this letter reaches you, I would imagine you have already received word of my passing. I have been wounded in action, without much time left. With me is a young woman, Maisie Hogan, who has promised to ensure that these words find their way to you. If you are reading this letter, she obviously has kept her promise to me. I hope that it brings you a little comfort knowing that I am not alone. Maisie has promised that she will stay here with me until the end.

There is so much I wish I could tell you, Mother. I wish we had time to speak one last time, but it would appear that is not to be. I wish I could bring you comfort. I wish there was something I could say that would ease your pain, but there is nothing except that you were the best mother a boy could ask for….

Hogan quietly observed as Maisie continued writing, filling up both sides of the page, signed off on the letter, then tore the page off the notepad and began writing again.

Dear Carolyn,

I am Maisie Hogan. I wish to offer my sincerest condolences to you. I know there is nothing that can compare to the pain of losing someone you love, but I hope in writing to you that I can help ease your pain even slightly.

I met your son not long before his passing, and he wished for me to send you a letter for him. I made a promise that I have carried out. It is word for word as he spoke it to me. While I wasn't well acquainted with your son and only had a brief while with him, I admire the sacrifice your son has made for his country. Your son was a noble and brave soldier, fighting for what he believed in and for his country. While I cannot disclose the manner of the circumstances of what lead to our meeting or his death, may it bring you comfort that he didn't die alone...

Finally, she had finished writing and placed the pen down, glancing up at him as she acknowledged his presence for the first time. 'Sorry, Papa, I had to get this all down while it was fresh in my mind.'

'Are you alright, Maisie?'

She nodded, then realized he was looking at the dried blood on her hands and some smeared on her cheek. 'It's not my blood…'

'Go wash and come back. Okay?' Maisie nodded again, then slipped out of his office without another word. After she'd left, he turned to the two letters lying on his desk. The script was hardly legible, but it was the most she'd written since the incident which had led to her injury. He picked the pages up, reading them over again, then looked towards the door she'd headed out. It didn't take brains to figure out something had happened while she was out there, and he returned the letters to his desk before sitting down on the bottom bunk to wait for her return.

After a while, the door opened again, and Maisie walked in once more, this time dressed in her 'barracks' uniform (the uniform they'd given her so she'd be able to blend in with the rest of the men in the barracks) and a sight cleaner. He patted the mattress beside him, and she joined him on the bunk. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know, the colonel taking her small frame in his arms.

She sobbed softly for a good moment, her arms wrapped tight around her adopted father. Neither of them said a word, the two of them just holding each other in their grasp; Maisie gaining comfort and strength from being with him.

Finally, she pulled away and wiped her eyes, drawing a handkerchief from her pocket to blow her nose. 'Danke,' she said, after she'd regained her composure. 'I needed that.'

Hogan smiled sadly at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 'I know, sweetheart…' He brushed the last of her tears off her cheek. 'What happened?'

'Newkirk and Carter told you a few of the fighter pilots were shot down.' He nodded. 'After we'd found the first five, I told them to come back without me. That I'd go find the last man and bring him into camp. We agreed it was the best course of action at the time since we didn't wish to stay around any longer and get picked up by a patrol, and so, we split up. I found the last man, he'd crashed into the middle of a thick forest. He'd been wounded, gut shot, but was still alive and had managed to cut himself out of his chute. There was nothing that could have been done for him, I know that, but I wish I could have done something… Anything…'

He rubbed her back as she continued relaying the events of the evening to him.

'He asked me to write a letter for his mother. I promised I would. He died in my arms…' Her voice broke, and she paused for a moment to keep her composure. 'He was only twenty. Three weeks off his twenty-first birthday. It's just so senseless… This waste of human lives, and to what end? It's just not right…'

'No, it's not, sweetheart.' He agreed quietly, after a moment. 'But this is war-'

'I know, I know. It still doesn't make it right. It doesn't make it fair. He told me he was an only child, that apart from him, his mother has no one. Does it make it right for her to lose her only son, just because there is a war?' She fell silent again for a long moment, closing her eyes as memories flashed through her mind.

Hogan, for once, was at a loss to know what to say to her.

'It's not the first time I've had someone die in my arms…' Maisie sniffled, when she spoke again. 'It's not the first time I've seen death. It's just not fair. It's not right. How many more people are going to die before this war is over?'

'I don't know, honey.' He replied honestly. 'I don't know what to say to make it right or make you feel better, because I know there is nothing I can say. The first time I had someone under my command die, I felt the exact same way as you feel now. It's not fair, it's not right, but it is what it is. We can't change it.'

'I know…' She sighed heavily, resting her head against his shoulder. 'It's just been a long evening…' Slipping her hand back inside a pocket, she pulled out the man's dog tag. 'Can you inform the right authorities? It could be months before the Germans officially declare him dead and send word to his relatives.'

Hogan nodded as he took the tag and chain from her. 'I'll get Kinch to send word in the morning. We'll get those two letters sent off when we ship the boys back to England. Would you like me to make another copy, though. Some of it is a bit hard to read.'

'I'd appreciate it. Danke.'

'What took you so long getting back to camp, though? Do you realize what time it is?'

Maisie sighed again. 'I got spotted by a patrol. They found the body not long after I'd left, and they came after me. I managed to give them the slip, though, then I got myself lost. I'm sorry, Papa, when I was running away from them I forgot what you told me about taking notice of my direction and such-'

'There's nothing to be sorry about. You got away, that's all that matters.'

'I guess so.' She decided against telling just how close she'd come to joining the young American flier in the big blue yonder. 'I'd have been back sooner if I hadn't gotten lost.'

'But you're here now.' Hogan kissed her forehead again. 'And I'm thankful you got back without getting hurt. You did well.'

'You're not mad at me for being so late?'

'Concerned and worried, yes, but not mad. You made sure that a good man didn't die alone. That's a good enough reason for you being delayed getting back here. I'm proud of you, sweetheart.'

Maisie smiled sadly upon hearing those words. 'I didn't want him to die alone, either. I couldn't leave him. Staying was the right thing to do…even if it was hard.' She sighed softly. 'How much longer? How many more people have to die before the war comes to an end?'

'I don't know.' He replied softly. 'But one day, one day the war will end.'

One day, things would go back to normal.

But that day wasn't to come just then.