Marie,
Drake is a good kid. A little over confident at times, but a good kid none the less. He's a lucky man too, finding himself such a good nurse. I know you'll take good care of him.
The war is moving along at a slower pace. The German's are chasing their own tails now, looking for an escape that ain't gonna come. Pretty soon this war'll be over and I'll be able to pack up and head back there to get you. I haven't thought of much else since. Coming back, seeing you again, is about the only thing in my life right now that makes any sense. War just isn't any good for me anymore. Maybe I'm getting to old for it. Funny. I'm thirty years old and I-
He cursed silently under his breath, his eyes momentarily running over the words he'd just written, before he took the piece of paper into his hand and crumpled it. He wasn't a writer. Somehow, the flow of his thoughts from his head to his hand got crossed, and things never came out the way he wanted to.
It'd been three weeks since her last letter. Three weeks and he hadn't managed to write up a good response. He knew she didn't care what he had to say, so long as he said something. But he didn't like to send a bunch of bull to her either. What was the point? She didn't want to hear about the weather over here. She probably wanted to hear about how much he missed her.
And he did, by God...more than even he knew, sometimes. He cursed Drake, even though he shouldn't. The boy lost his leg. Still, Bobby got to be with his Marie, while he had to remain there, sitting in a trench filled with mud, swarming with flies, listening to other men burp and swap war stories. The smell made him sick, even more so since he took in more of it than the others. He wondered then, when he began to worry about how he smelled, and what he looked like. At some point, the thought of a warm shower even crossed his mind. He was a true blue soldier! Since when did showering and looking all presentable matter to him?
Since he met Marie, that's when. He knew bringing a woman into his life would be trouble. He just never knew how much trouble. If someone had told him a year ago how much his life would change with the enterance of an army nurse, he'd have laughed, and maybe even spit in their face. How could he have known that spending just three short weeks with a woman would entirely alter his train of thinking? Emptying the last of his canteen and relishing the feel of the cold water moving down his parched throat, he frowned, tossing the can aside in disgust. He was whipped, dammit. And what's worse, a part of him even liked it a little bit. Liked that someone with big green eyes could have such an effect on his hardened heart. Liked that his head wasn't always focused on gutting someone anymore.
Suddenly, a fellow soldier appeared beside him. Usually, he wouldn't have given it any thought, except that the panic and anxiousness was just bleeding off him. "What is it?" Wolverine narrowed his eyes, watching as the man scrambled to pull a few pieces of paper from his pocket.
"War news, sir. The Germans have been creating these camps. Concentration camps. They're sending minorities there...Jews...gypsies..."
"Mutants..." The thought rolled off his tongue before he could stop it. The man before him froze a moment, uncomfortable at the inclusion of that genre. "Well?" Logan snapped at the man, making sure he didn't have time to do too much looking into his last comment.
"They raided several American Red Cross hospitals in France. Took all the hostages to them camps..." If he hadn't been listening before, Logan was definitely listening now. Marie was stationed in a Red Cross hospital in France. Just North of Calais. He couldn't jump to any conclusions, not yet. He had to hold on to the chance that they'd attacked south of where she was, or maybe no where near her. Somehow, though, despite the logic, he knew they had her. He could feel it deep down, and it made his blood boil.
"They've covered all of Western France, sir. Everything from Nantes to..."
"Calais." He shut his eyes tightly, lowering his head after the man nodded in reply.
Drake is a good kid. A little over confident at times, but a good kid none the less. He's a lucky man too, finding himself such a good nurse. I know you'll take good care of him.
The war is moving along at a slower pace. The German's are chasing their own tails now, looking for an escape that ain't gonna come. Pretty soon this war'll be over and I'll be able to pack up and head back there to get you. I haven't thought of much else since. Coming back, seeing you again, is about the only thing in my life right now that makes any sense. War just isn't any good for me anymore. Maybe I'm getting to old for it. Funny. I'm thirty years old and I-
He cursed silently under his breath, his eyes momentarily running over the words he'd just written, before he took the piece of paper into his hand and crumpled it. He wasn't a writer. Somehow, the flow of his thoughts from his head to his hand got crossed, and things never came out the way he wanted to.
It'd been three weeks since her last letter. Three weeks and he hadn't managed to write up a good response. He knew she didn't care what he had to say, so long as he said something. But he didn't like to send a bunch of bull to her either. What was the point? She didn't want to hear about the weather over here. She probably wanted to hear about how much he missed her.
And he did, by God...more than even he knew, sometimes. He cursed Drake, even though he shouldn't. The boy lost his leg. Still, Bobby got to be with his Marie, while he had to remain there, sitting in a trench filled with mud, swarming with flies, listening to other men burp and swap war stories. The smell made him sick, even more so since he took in more of it than the others. He wondered then, when he began to worry about how he smelled, and what he looked like. At some point, the thought of a warm shower even crossed his mind. He was a true blue soldier! Since when did showering and looking all presentable matter to him?
Since he met Marie, that's when. He knew bringing a woman into his life would be trouble. He just never knew how much trouble. If someone had told him a year ago how much his life would change with the enterance of an army nurse, he'd have laughed, and maybe even spit in their face. How could he have known that spending just three short weeks with a woman would entirely alter his train of thinking? Emptying the last of his canteen and relishing the feel of the cold water moving down his parched throat, he frowned, tossing the can aside in disgust. He was whipped, dammit. And what's worse, a part of him even liked it a little bit. Liked that someone with big green eyes could have such an effect on his hardened heart. Liked that his head wasn't always focused on gutting someone anymore.
Suddenly, a fellow soldier appeared beside him. Usually, he wouldn't have given it any thought, except that the panic and anxiousness was just bleeding off him. "What is it?" Wolverine narrowed his eyes, watching as the man scrambled to pull a few pieces of paper from his pocket.
"War news, sir. The Germans have been creating these camps. Concentration camps. They're sending minorities there...Jews...gypsies..."
"Mutants..." The thought rolled off his tongue before he could stop it. The man before him froze a moment, uncomfortable at the inclusion of that genre. "Well?" Logan snapped at the man, making sure he didn't have time to do too much looking into his last comment.
"They raided several American Red Cross hospitals in France. Took all the hostages to them camps..." If he hadn't been listening before, Logan was definitely listening now. Marie was stationed in a Red Cross hospital in France. Just North of Calais. He couldn't jump to any conclusions, not yet. He had to hold on to the chance that they'd attacked south of where she was, or maybe no where near her. Somehow, though, despite the logic, he knew they had her. He could feel it deep down, and it made his blood boil.
"They've covered all of Western France, sir. Everything from Nantes to..."
"Calais." He shut his eyes tightly, lowering his head after the man nodded in reply.
