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It didn't get better, but it didn't get worse. Nelly sat close to the foxhole, eyes dazed while they stared at the thick fog and falling snow. She spent most of her time sitting and staring – as if her mind wandered and left the forest. She'd do a few jobs here and there – mostly map work with Nixon. But the rest of the time was spent staring. Sometimes, Nelly would think about her time in Mauthausen – sometimes she wouldn't think of anything at all. But that morning, she thought about Easy Company. She thought about Babe and how he was coping after losing his friend. It must have been bad if Nixon was concerned. She thought about Alex, Malarkey and Skip – and how they were coping. She might have missed them if Nelly wasn't so wrapped up in fear. She drew her legs up toward her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Eyes closing, Nelly continued to think about her friends back in Easy Company.

Her mind drifted back to their crossing over the Atlantic. When Skip told her, "Do you know why I picked you as my first mate? Because you're my best friend". Nelly didn't understand it at the time – what it meant to have best friends. But over time, she learned exactly what it was like. She missed those times with Skip, Malarkey and Alex – where they'd hide out in the latrines and plan their next move. Where they'd call each other by their character names and try and stay out of trouble. But of course, events followed them around. Like Bob the bobcat. Or the fireworks in the Officer's mess hall. Their first quest together as four, where they swapped Sobel's map with the wrong one.

Nelly's heart squeezed as she thought back to those moments. It was sometimes depressing looking back – when their future was so uncertain. Being surrounded and stuck in the woods wasn't a happy place. They hadn't had a hot meal and they had run out of rations. Once again, the men on the line were very hungry. Supplies couldn't arrive by plane because of the fog and snow clouds and trucks couldn't get near Bastogne because they were surrounded. It wasn't looking good for the 101st Airborne. Nelly ran her jacket sleeve under her nose. She felt a little off when she woke up – which wasn't uncommon, they were freezing.

"Hey, Nelly".

Nelly was so lost in thought; she didn't realise Speirs was there. And her cousin soon sat down next to her on the snow. Opening her eyes, she removed her head from her knees and looked up at Speirs. He smoothed back the curls from her forehead and then gently ruffled her hair.

"I'm sorry". Speirs said, "About yesterday…I shouldn't have reacted that way". Hand leaving her short and messy curls, Speirs reached into his pocket and brought out his cigarettes. He lit one up, drew in a puff and then exhaled the smoke slowly. "I guess I'm frustrated because I don't know how to help you". Speirs admitted quietly. "Stupidly, I thought us having a conversation would have helped. But I think this runs a lot deeper than I thought".

Nelly could feel a frown form on her face. He felt bad. She never wanted Speirs to feel bad. This was her suffering – no one else's. But it seemed her silence, her fear and sadness, affected those around her. She couldn't explain or tell him, but Nelly could show him. Giving his sleeve a tug, to grab his attention, Nelly waited until Speirs was staring at her. And then she rolled up her jacket sleeve, revealing the bandage underneath. Curiously, Speirs continued to watch. Untying the knot, Nelly unravelled the bandage and exposed the tattoo hidden beneath. Speirs took a hold of his younger cousin's arms and the cigarette fell from between his lips.

"Two, five, one, six, eight, nine". He read the number out loud and mostly to himself. Speirs's eyes left the tattoo and he looked at his cousin. "What is this?"

Nelly pointed to her chest.

Speirs shook his head. "Kid, this is a number – it's not you". He asked, "Did someone do this to you?"

She nodded faintly.

"Before you joined Easy?"

Again, Nelly nodded.

"Your dad?" Speirs quietly asked.

Nelly shook her head.

"The hospital?" He sounded very patient. Though inside, his mind was demanding to know who had done that to his younger cousin.

Once more, she shook her head.

It only left one other option. "The Nazis?" His voice was quiet.

Nelly nodded slowly.

Drawing out a sigh, Speirs let go of her arm and ran a hand down his face. "I don't get it". He said – more to himself. "Why would they…brand you like that, I…". He was lost for words. Speirs picked up the cigarette he had dropped and placed it between his lips. A sad smile reached his lips while he shook his head. "Christ, you've kept that hidden so well". Speirs looked down at Nelly and watched, as the girl wrapped the bandage around her wrist and forearm. "Are you ashamed of it?"

Nelly faintly shrugged one shoulder. Maybe not ashamed. Nelly just wasn't ready for Easy to know the truth. She was fine with Alex only knowing for the time being. Speirs might know about the tattoo, but he didn't know where it came from and why it was even there to begin with. Nelly took hold of Speirs's hand and leaned against his arm. Eyes closing, she took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. But with that exhale of breath, came a sneeze.

"Bless you". Speirs said. His free hand brought out his GI handkerchief. "You need a tissue?"

With a sniff, Nelly nodded against his arm.

"Here you go, kid".

Nelly blew her nose into the handkerchief. She was getting a cold. Her nose was starting to feel uncomfortable and stuffed up. Nelly had been fighting off the cold since November. Around the time they were still holding the line at Driel, in Holland.

"Anyway". Speirs said, "About this tattoo, I – "

Nelly sneezed again.

Speirs looked down toward the top of her curly hair. "Bless you". He said, "Are you sick?"

Blowing her nose, she shook her head.

"Just the cold?" He asked.

Nelly nodded. Speirs pulled his hand away from hers and pressed it against her forehead. He gave a little nod – Nelly didn't feel warm. It probably was just the sniffles. Still, he reached for her canteen and pulled it out from her belt – only to notice it was empty. With a sigh, Speirs unscrewed the cap and then poured water from his canteen into hers.

"Right, drink up". He instructed and handed her the canteen.

And Nelly did – she gulped the entire contents down in one breath.

Speirs frowned. "How long has that been empty?"

Nelly shrugged one shoulder.

"Christ sake, kid…". He mumbled. "When it's empty, give it to Winters and he'll fill it up for you".

Setting her canteen down, Nelly then rubbed at her heavy and sore eyes. There was a growing pain behind her eyes and under them. She could feel her throat start to hurt as well – that water felt like tiny needles going down. It might have just been a cold, but any cold felt ten times worse out in the freezing woods. However, it was just the sniffles and Nelly could cope.

...

Small flashlight between his lips, Winters did his best to write a letter between his shivering body and cold hands. The light was well protected by the roof over their foxhole – he wasn't worried about the enemy spotting them. Boredom and not being able to sleep was the cause of Winters's letter writing at 0230 hours. He couldn't sleep because Nelly was snoring. Usually, she was a very quiet sleeper, but her nose was stuffed-up and it caused the girl to snore. Thankfully, not too loud but loud enough to keep Winters and Nixon awake. He was glad Nelly got back to sleep – the Germans bombed their mainline and once again, Nelly kicked and whined. But when the bombardment ended, Winters soothed her back to sleep. Now, she was snoring, and no one could get back to sleep.

"Safe?" Nixon called from outside the foxhole.

Bringing the torch out of his mouth, Winters turned it off. "Alright, Nix".

Pulling the roof open, Nixon climbed back into the foxhole and sat down on Nelly's other side. He snorted out a tiny laugh. "I was hoping she'd stop snoring". He said, "For someone as tiny as Nelly, she snores like my old man".

Winters huffed out a quiet laugh. And then said sympathetically, "She's really bunged up, huh?"

"She'll be alright".

Nelly stopped snoring for a moment – only to smack her dry lips together before cuddling deeper into Winters's stomach and resuming her snoring. Winters smiled – somewhat amused – and he folded the half-written letter up before placing it inside his pocket. "I'll finish that in the morning".

"It is the morning". Nixon pointed out while closing his eyes.

"I can't remember that last time any of us got our eight hours". Winters mentioned.

"Mourlemon". Nixon mumbled.

"That seems long ago".

"It does". Nixon agreed. He then said, "I don't get why we haven't all turned into ice already".

"We're doing a good job at keeping dry". Winters pointed out, "And we keep moving".

After a short pause, Nixon opened his eyes with a tiny smirk. "I heard something today".

"What?"

"This is the coldest Belgium has been in thirty years".

Winters huffed. "What are the chances, huh?"

"We're not even in January yet". Nixon said, "It'll only get colder".

"I lost six men today". Winters said quietly. "Four were from frostbite. The other two got wounded".

"They're giving the wounded hooch for the pain in Bastogne". Nixon said, "We've hardly got any supplies left".

Winters nodded slowly and said, "We haven't eaten in over a day".

Nixon noticed, "You got your rifle back – where was it?"

"With Frank Perconte".

"Oh, boy". Nixon chuckled quietly.

"I couldn't even get mad at the man". Winters confessed. "He probably lost his and found mine".

"When people are desperate enough, they steal". Nixon said, "Still, ballsy move to steal from our Battalion XO".

Winters huffed out a tiny laugh. "Yeah".

"Ah – who was that guy in Fort Benning?"

Winters looked at his friend. "What guy?"

"Oh, way back when we were candidates". Nixon said, "Remember, he was in our barrack? He had wild hair – "

"Mark?"

"No, no…the other guy". Nixon said with a shake of his head. "He was tiny".

"Oh, Stewart?" Winters smiled. "He had those big thick glasses – "

"and that crazy hair, right?"

"Yeah, I remember Stewart". Winters continued to smile. But then the smile left his face. "He's not dead, is he?"

"He never passed". Nixon said, "Last I heard, he's a Sergeant in the Marines".

"He was a quiet kid, huh?" Winters said, "He was really passionate about routine".

Nixon snorted and nodded. He said, "He reminds me of Nelly".

With a soft huff, Winters looked down to the top of Nelly's head. "I can see that".

The snoring stopped for a moment. And the foxhole was quiet. Nelly quickly pulled herself away from Winters's stomach to sit up. And she sneezed – three times. With a tiny groan, she reached into her front pocket, aiming to grab the GI handkerchief, but ended up pulling something else out instead. It was a piece of paper. A letter. The letter Thomas Burges wrote to Nelly when they got back from Normandy. Nelly still hadn't read it.

"Bless you". Winters said kindly. "Are you okay?"

Putting the letter back, Nelly grabbed the handkerchief and blew her nose – nodding to her Captain's question as she did. Winters smiled softly and smoothed down those untameable short curls on the top of Nelly's head. Before Nelly could catch her breath, she sneezed again.

"Bless you". Winters said.

And she replied very quietly, "T-thanks".

Nelly stilled. The two Officers looked down at her – surprised, relieved and happy.

Huffing softly, Nelly wiped her nose. And frowned. Her mouth opened – as if she was going to explain why she suddenly became vocal again, but then her mouth closed. Winters's arm went around her shoulder. "Good job, trooper". He praised.

Nelly's stunned expression looked up toward Nixon.

Nixon grinned. "I didn't do it".

She whispered, "I…I d-did…".

Nixon's voice softened slightly, "You found your voice".

Winters gave her arm a rub. "There's no rush to get back on the line, alright?"

Nelly gave a tiny nod. Though, she did crave to see her friends again. With a small shift, Nelly scooted toward the end of the foxhole and moved away from Winters's hold. Nixon shot his friend a smile and said, "Some miracle, huh?"

Winters moved toward Nelly and asked, "Heading for the trench?"

Nelly's mouth opened. It was strange having her voice back. "Y-yeah". She stammered.

"Alright". He said, "Hold on, kiddo. I'll get that for you". Winters opened the roof.

And the moon shone down on them.

The stars were out. The moon was bright.

The sky was clear.

Fog had lifted, and it had stopped snowing. And the three of them could only stare, stunned from seeing a clear sky for the first time in days. It was the most beautiful thing; they had seen for such a long time. And before Nelly could climb outside, Winters grabbed her helmet – the sky was clear. If they could see the enemy, the enemy could see them. Winters stuck the helmet on Nelly's head.

"I'll bet we can see Foy now". Nixon mentioned.

Very quickly, the two Officers climbed out of the foxhole and sure enough, they saw the village of Foy. They saw small fires and buildings across the field. And it was tempting to call in for artillery and hit those fires, but they were still low on ammo. For now. If the weather stayed clear, planes could fly overhead and drop supplies behind American lines.

"Looks like the Germans are living a comfortable life". Nixon said, "They've got shelter and fire".

"Lucky for some, huh?" Winters mumbled.

Just as the upper half of Nelly's body was out of the foxhole, she sneezed and fell back inside. Upon hearing a soft thud, the two Officers turned around. And heard Nelly sigh. Walking back toward the foxhole, Winters crouched and reached down to take her arm.

"Up we go". He said while pulling Nelly out.

Standing outside of the foxhole, Nelly's eyes looked toward Foy. She saw the fires and the smoke billowing out of chimneys inside warm houses. "B-bastards". Nelly mumbled.

Nixon smiled – highly amused. "I missed that accent".

Winters clapped Nelly's shoulder gently. "Will you be alright?"

Staring up at Winters, Nelly's eyes softened. She nodded. "Y-yes, s-sir".

He smiled. "Good".

"Tha…tha…thank y-you, s-sir". Words were a lot harder now, Nelly noticed.

"Don't worry, kiddo". Winters assured her, "You'll get used to talking again".

Turning around, Nelly walked off and headed for the slit trench.

Winters faced Nixon and smiled. "Two miracles".