Disclaimer: I do not own Band of Brothers. Lyrics belong to Neil Young, I suppose.
A/N: This is one of the longest chapters. Because (A) I didn't feel that this could be broken up and because (B) some stuff will be important later on. Thank you for all of the lovely reviews. All were thoroughly swooned over. Enjoy!
VIII. Harvest Moon
But there's a full moon rising
Let's go dancing in the light
We know where the music's playing
Let's go out and feel the night
Tap. Tap. Tap. Cora groaned as she threw the blankets back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She lazily reached out to turn on the lamp, missing each time. Eventually, she ended up sprawled out on the wooden floor in the darkness. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Son of a bitch," Cora mumbled.
Light finally illuminated the room once she got onto her feet. The tapping persisted and, for a moment, Cora candidly considered the possibility that she was only dreaming. When she flung the window open, the idea seemed more and more realistic as she gazed down upon her redheaded Eskimo. But once her vision finally focused to reveal a forlorn expression on Captain Winters' face, she knew that it was all too real.
"Well, this is something I never expected. Actually, I'd expect a giant rabbit named Harvey to show up at my window before you. To what may I owe this visit, kind sir," she teased; imitating a Southern belle the best she could to lighten the mood.
"I need someone to talk to."
"Nix wouldn't wake up for you, I suppose?"
"I didn't ask him at all actually," Dick said as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
Cora realized suddenly that whatever was troubling him was serious. She nodded her head understandingly. "This isn't window talk then. Go around to the door and I'll let you in."
She shut the window and headed for the bedroom door. Cora stopped in front of the mirror that was nailed to the wall to notice that she hadn't bothered to cover herself up before answering the tapping, and that she was clothed in nothing but a thin, army green guinea tee and boxers that she had been supplied to sleep in. Normally, she wouldn't have given it another thought, but Richard had always carried himself with a sense of propriety that she had lacked and the last thing that he needed was to feel as if he were practically seeing her naked. Cora grabbed a robe from the back of the door and wrapped the tie tight around her waist before she headed down the stairs to the small foyer. With nimble fingers and lightning speed, she unlocked the door and welcomed Dick into the small house.
"Do want any coffee or tea? Maybe I can make you scrambled eggs even. Looks like you've had a hell of a night, Dick," she said, flitting around the tiny kitchen.
"Just tea," he answered. She pulled out a chair for him at the table and ushered him to sit. He smiled inwardly, watching as she went into her medic-mode while heating the water and getting the cups out. Cora set the kettle on the stovetop, leaned against the counter, and tucked a dark, sleep-mussed spiral behind her ear.
"How's the leg?" he asked.
"It's fine. Sometimes it's a little sore. Probably wouldn't hurt at all if I stayed off of it like you and Eugene told me, but why start taking orders about my well-being now?" she joked.
The steam rose from the teapot, causing a loud shriek to cut through the night air. Cora quickly ceased it by pouring the scalding water into the hand-painted cups. With unbridled poise, she carried both beverages over to the table and set them down. Dick gave a quick nod of appreciation before lifting it to his lips and taking a small sip.
"Well, since you didn't go to Nix for this, it isn't about a girl or anything, right?" He emitted a gruff laugh, but remained mostly silent. His lip quivered a little and he bit down hard on his tongue to stop the tears. Cora reached across the table and gently touched the top of her friend's hand; a gesture that proved that there was a hidden wealth of empathy stored within her somewhere. "Richard, what's wrong?"
Winters' free hand flew up to cover his face as the tears began to fall. "Cora, I don't know what to do. Soldiers are supposed to be able to handle things. Men aren't meant to have nightmares… and hit the ground when they hear church bells…. I'm just starting to fall apart. That day at the crossroads keeps running through my head. I keep seeing that boy… I- I felt like a murderer, Cora… I'm falling apart."
Cora now knelt down in front of him, gripping both of his hands in her own. She stood up quickly and rushed to his side with a delicate tenderness that was completely foreign to her. Her arms went around him and she dotingly cradled his head in her bosom. Like a small child would, Richard clung to her and gripped the excess fabric of the robe. He buried his face deep in her chest, sobs racking his tall frame. She bent down a little in order to be eye-level with him and took his face in between her hands.
"Listen to me," she whispered as he wiped the tears from his cheeks, "You are a great soldier and a wonderful leader. You're probably the best that the Armed Forces has ever seen. And do you honestly think that you're supposed to get through all of this without a few glitches or a few tears? Men cry all of the time, real men. Odysseus cried, Rhett Butler cried. You're not alone in any of this." She paused. "They haunt me too."
As she spoke, tears began to burn at the corners of her eyes as well, but for Dick's sake, Cora held them back. She pressed her lips to his forehead and held him to her again, telling him to let it all out. Eventually, they moved into the living room, where they fell asleep and woke the next morning: bodies entwined, closer than they had ever been.
&
The wind whipped through Cora's hair as she drove into town. It had been bright for mid-October, but she had always been used to the dreariness that autumn brought back in New York. She pulled the vehicle into an alley, grabbed her helmet from the passenger seat, and leapt out the side.
They had called her down to headquarters for some unknown reason. Cora had heard that British soldiers were trapped somewhere and had to be saved, a dangerous operation to be sure. Naturally, Easy would be barreling into the heart of the peril. It seemed to be some sort of E Company tradition; like being shot in the ass or taking bets on the actions of their lone female counterpart.
"You're late," Lt. 'Moose' Heyliger pointed out as Cora stumbled in.
"Luckily, Sink's to preoccupied to notice." She handed her helmet off to Nixon before ripping a rubber band from her front pocket. Cora gathered her hair in her hands a pulled it to the nape of her neck, where she twisted it into a messy bun. A yawn escaped her as she stretched and took the helmet back. "I smell coffee," she muttered, pursing her lips.
"It's over here, Captain Larson. I know that you could care less about this operation," Colonel Sink said abruptly. "You proved that by showing up late. And don't you dare lie to me and say that it won't happen again. It'll only get my hopes up."
With a gentle smile, Cora poured herself a cup of coffee and slid up next to Sink. "Well, Sir, it's a matter of how you look at it. The way I see things, isn't it better that I act on my least damaging fault? Besides, we both know that my defects range down to the level of 'I'm surprised anyone is still alive after that screw-up.'"
Sink looked down at her with a hard glare. He moved on to address Nixon and Heyliger, knowing that she had a valid point. Her smile morphed into a smug grin as she sipped the coffee. Cora stepped back over toward the door and stood next to Dick. "How're you doing?" she asked.
"Fine. Thank you for that… for the, uh, other night. I, er, guess I… I needed that, I think. I…"
"I know." Cora glanced up at him with perceptive eyes. A blush rose on both of their faces as memories of the morning flooded back. Dick opened his mouth to speak again, but Colonel Sink spoke before he could.
"Larson, as an officer, I'll expect you to know this information backwards and forwards."
"Yes, sir," she answered with a nod. Cora stood next to Nix and listened intently to the words of Colonel Dobie. His accent reminded her of her father and she bit back a smile.
"140 men?" Moose asked. The disbelief and anguish was heavy in his tone.
"Canadian engineers have supplied six boats," Dobie answered.
Cora scoffed loudly. "Well, if the Canadians have a hand in it. I'm sorry, but I've dated several Canadians and none of them were very reliable."
"Perhaps it was just you attracting the wrong type of man, Captain Larson," the Colonel said with a sneer, one that Cora took offense at. "The rendezvous is isolated and landable. I swam it myself last night. At approximately 0030 hours, they will signal the 'V' for Victory with a hand-held red torch. That's a—"
"A hand-held red flashlight," Cora finished, a spark of anger in her voice.
Sink broke the tension with more direction. "Alright, we'll call this thing 'Operation Pegasus.' Bob, your 2nd Battalion is on the spot. Get it done."
"Is there anything else you need me for, Colonel Sink?" Cora piped in. "If you don't, I think I should go check on the wounded."
"Check with your CO and make sure he doesn't need you to do anything first. Oh, and Larson? Be late again and I'll send you back to New York."
Cora nodded and saluted before turning reluctantly to Moose, Easy Company's new commanding officer. He quickly dismissed her, still unsure of how to take her general attentiveness. With a roll of her eyes, she pulled him aside. "Moose, can I give you a helpful hint about being CO of Easy? Don't let me scare you. You're not passing the test very well. Just go about things like I was any other soldier. Though, it might help if you quit looking at my tits all the time." She smiled, patted him on the back, and walked away. "Good luck with those reports," she called out to Dick over her shoulder with a smirk.
"Yeah. I think I'll need it," he muttered before exiting right behind her.
&
Dick had never wanted to slam his head into a wall until that moment. He looked out to window to see a beautiful night, which he might have enjoyed if he weren't chained to the desk. But, instead, his hand had a cramp in it; the taste of bitter black coffee lingered in his mouth; his orderly handed him yet another paper to sign; and Nixon, along with Moose, was there to remind him just what he was missing. There was no denying that Dick would have given anything to be in charge of Easy again, back out on the line with the rest of the men. As far as he was concerned, a leader's place was not indoors. Yet, all he could do was give words of wisdom and hints, which Nixon quickly put an end to.
"Dick," he said with a steady tone, "Easy's in good hands."
Richard backed down into his role of desk jockey once again, with only one last bit to hand out. "Yeah, right, well, hang tough. And, uh, keep an eye on Cora. She's a good medic and she knows what to do, but she can be a little reckless at times. There's not much thought behind her actions. We can't afford to lose her, though, okay?"
Nixon shot Winters a glance. Don't you mean you can't afford to lose her? Dick gave a half-hearted smile and shook Moose's hand. He wished him luck with all the sincerity he could muster up. Without a brief acknowledgement to Nixon, Heyliger was off to be with the troops. Lewis turned to leave as well, but Dick's tension kept him there a moment longer.
"Uh, Nix? Are we sure on the intelligence of this?" he questioned.
"Well, I think it's pretty good," Lew responded with a snort.
"Is Easy walking into another company of Germans no one can see?"
Nix thought carefully about his words, trying to delicately convey his opinion. "Why don't we ask Moose when he gets back?"
Dick got the point. "Right, yeah," he answered in a whisper. "Oh, if, uh, they do run into any trouble, you'll let me know?"
"Yeah. You run into any bacon sandwich, do the same, alright?" Nixon said, mocking his friend a little.
"And if anything happens to—"
"If anything happens to our girl, you'll be the first one told."
The captain nodded, realizing that his true colors had shown. He looked down at his desk solemnly, embarrassment reddening his pale cheeks. "Forget it, Dick. She'd hurt you," Nix said with a smirk before he descended down the stairs.
Later that night, Winters could hear the celebration from his window and a smile lit up his face. He turned, annoyed, back to his desk to finish up another report. A knock came at his door. Dick called out for whomever it was to enter, but the doorknob did not turn. He stood from his chair and stepped quickly down the stairs to the entryway. When he swung the door open, no one appeared, just an empty bottle of beer with a note tied around the neck with a red ribbon.
"I'm alive, so stop worrying!" was scribbled on the piece of paper in Cora's delicate cursive and, for the first time in a while, Richard laughed.
&
The minute Moose was shot, chaos ensued. Cora, while getting some much-needed rest, was awaken by Harry Welsh in the middle of the night. She waved him off and rolled over on her side, only to be fully annoyed when Winters turned her light on.
"Oh, what the hell is wrong with you?" she groaned.
"Come on, Cora. Get up. We need your help," Welsh said in a hurried voice. He yanked at the blankets that she had held tight to her, but pulled his hand back seconds later when she craned her neck to bite him.
"Cora, don't bite Harry!" Dick reprimanded.
It took at least fifteen minutes to coax her out of bed, a cup of coffee waiting on the other side of the door whenever she finally dressed. She mumbled curses as she walked and hopped into a jeep that Richard offered to drive. The aid station loomed ominously in front of them, with its wooden doors swinging back and forth. Cora hated going into it. It wasn't the death that bothered her, really, but the life. There were so many men laying on cots and stretchers without limbs, without fingers, and even some without other appendages; that were going to live to see the States again. One would certainly imagine that they would find some tiny fraction of happiness in that fact, but their faces only expressed a desolation that broke Cora's heart. Of course, the sounds that met her at the door often reminded her from several scenes out of Gone With the Wind and the smell made the back alleys of Brooklyn seem like perfume shops. Reluctantly, Cora took a deep breath and entered.
Another medic stood close to the door, near the bed of a former patient, writing down the information on the young man's dog tags. The despair was written all over his face and there were smears of blood on his hands. He had clearly lost the soldier himself.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Lieutenant Heyliger," she said calmly.
"That way," the doctor answered shortly, pointing down a long corridor in the back.
Cora nodded and proceeded to weave her way through the sea of cots that were strewn across the room. The goal was to keep her head up and not look down at the wounded or dead men, the ones that had yet to be announced; but as a doctor herself, she couldn't let it pass. With a sigh, she tore the dog tags off several bodies, closed their eyes with gentle fingers, and covered the icy cadavers with the olive army blankets. "Nurse," she called. The other woman walked over with a slow pace. "These beds can be cleared. I put their tags on top."
"And who gave you permission to do that?" she asked with a heavy Dutch accent.
"The same person who told me, 'Welcome to the Airborne, Captain.'" Cora turned sharply and continued toward the corridor, not bothering to stop any longer. She had freed enough beds to last through the night… perhaps.
Down the hall, doors on either side were wide open. She could hear the shrieks of men who called out to their mothers and to God. Cora looked left and right, but there still weren't any signs of Moose or Eugene. Finally, she turned the corner to see a defeated Roe sitting on a small wooden bench. She approached him with a smile.
"So what is all this I hear about you losing it on Richard and Harry?" she inquired, plopping down next to him. "I mean, you of all people? I know that everyone has their moments, but I'll tell ya, it was a little shocking. Especially since you're the one who's always reminding me how important it is to stay calm under pressure."
"I know, but they're officers, Cora. Officers! They're supposed to know better…" he said through gritted teeth.
"They're supposed to, but sometimes people just don't think. They were more concerned about stopping their friend's pain. And, yeah, it was a dumb way to go about it, but it was the only thing they could consider of doing. Now, I wish it didn't sound like I'm defending 'em, but I am. He's going to make it, right?"
Eugene nodded, staring down at his bloodstained hands.
"Then that's all that matters. You didn't lose him, Eugene. Focus on the good, okay? Now, I'm going to go get some rest and I think you should too." She yawned, stood, and slung one arm around Roe's shoulder. "Come on. Let's leave all of this to Spina."
The two medics escaped out of the aid station and waved down a jeep that was headed for town. Sleep called both of them back to their beds until morning, when a new day awoke them with new problems to deal with.
&
December 10, 1944
Mourmelon-le-Grand, France
"That's it! I've had it! I'm gonna kill 'im!" Cora shouted as she burst into the mess hall. Her Brooklyn accent was prominent on her words as she spoke and threw herself down next to Toye, Luz, Perconte, Malarkey, and Babe. Cora's arms were folded across her chest defiantly and her cheeks were flushed a bright red. The breath, visible in the chill of the wintertime, came out in short angry puffs from flared nostrils.
"Something tells me this conversation calls for a nice dose of caffeine. Here, Cor, have a cigarette," Luz volunteered. He stood and sped away in hopes that she would call down by the time he returned.
"What the hell has gotten you so upset?" Toye asked while chewing on scrambled eggs.
"Lieutenant Norman Dike. I swear to God, if he calls me 'Miss Larson' one more time I'm gonna to grab a M-1 and shoot his balls off. I can't take it anymore! I'm his superior officer for fuck's sake." Cora lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. "This is getting really ugly, too. I called him 'Foxhole Norman' in front of Sink."
"He's just some stupid bastard, Cora. You can't let those kinds of guys get to you like this," Malarkey said, rubbing her arm to soothe her.
"No matter how funny it is," Luz added before placing the mug in front of the fuming woman. He received nothing but hard glares from the other men, which ultimately caused him to shrink back a little.
"Honestly, though, who did he blow to get here? He had to fuck someone up the ass, 'cause it's obvious that he didn't have any sincere recommendation," she snapped angrily.
"Yeah, well, ain't ya off to Paris tonight?" Babe asked at just the right time.
Cora nodded and let her head slip into her hands. "Thank God for that. If I spent one more night here, I think we'd have another new CO."
"Well…" George began in a sing-song voice.
"Forget it!" the rest of them shouted in unison.
Yet, Cora was not the only officer that had been sent to Paris. Winters fond himself shipped off with a 48-hour pass to the City of Light as well. Of course, since Dick had been forced behind the desk and into hiding, Larson and Winters had seen less and less of each other. Their only actual correspondence came in form of small notes with red ribbons. Ever since the 17th of October, it had become a bit of an ongoing joke that both ends carried on. Due to this, neither of them knew where the other was.
Richard had learned very quickly, though, that the city was not for him. The crowded sidewalks and the dim lights of the train only brought back horrible memories for him. Perhaps the only image that brought a smile to his face was the sight of a young couple on the underground. The black-haired girl's face was pressed into her lover's neck, a sensuous smile stretching across her dark features. The recollection of Cora's soft smile ruptured in his mind and almost sent him reeling, but the expression on the German boy's face washed the figure of her away and he was left to stare off into space. The train stopped and a French boy spurred Dick from his trance. He exited the station, slightly embarrassed. They haunt me too, she had said to him. They haunt me too.
"Richard!" a voice called out. It can't be… but it was. Cora, in her formal uniform, walked quickly toward him. Her hair fell perfectly beneath the garrison cap and her eyes shined a midnight blue in the light of the street lamps and the soft glow of the moon. "What are you doing in Paris? What happened to all of that paper work you couldn't get rid of?"
"I'm not actually sure," he said, still surprised to see her there.
"They probably found some other slob to dump it all on," she said with a laugh.
Cora's joy was contagious at that moment and there was a daring aura of adventure about her. Suddenly, Dick couldn't help but smile and laugh right along with her. They walked on the bank of the Seine and kept the talk light and airy. Notre Dame watched the two as they passed couple after couple, not bothering to notice that they looked like one themselves. As they neared Richard's hotel, Cora turned to look around him. "Do you know what this means?" Dick shook his head. "Now I'll finally be able to say to someone, 'We'll always have Paris.' That's been a dream of mine since 1943… since I saw that silly movie."
Cora stepped down into the empty street. "What do you think you'll do when the war is over?" she asked, standing idly in the middle of the road and staring up at the stars.
"I don't know," he answered from the sidewalk, cautious and vigilant as always.
She circled around quickly with bright features. "I think that we should come back here, to this very spot, just you and me. Then we should dance in the street."
"Dance in the street? You'll get hit by a car," he scoffed.
"What car? We'll come here at the same time when there's no one around." Cora grabbed him by the hand and pulled him off of the sidewalk. With bursts of laughter, the two danced and promenaded in the road. Dick stretched him arm out and then gentle spun her back to him, which caused her to crash into his chest. She braced herself with her free hand and Dick placed his own at the small of her back to keep her from tumbling backwards. Their laughter died down as they looked back into each other's eyes, electricity flying between them. Their faces were close, lips only inches apart.
Take a chance. Be a man.
This can't be happening.
You've got her right where you've always wanted her.
I've never felt so safe before.
Is this real? Am I dreaming?
I wish this didn't feel so right.
Please don't hurt me.
"Cora…" he whispered. Richard leaned in and Cora tilted her head back dutifully as her fingers tightened on his jacket. I've always wondered what you taste like. A loud clang echoed against the buildings and garbage from a trash bin spilled out onto the sidewalk. A skinny cat ran with lightning speed down away from the alley where it had knocked the bin over. Cora and Richard stood at least two feet apart, staring at the ground like guilty teenagers with their shoulders shrugged up submissively. Cora bit her lower lip and Dick blushed profusely. Whatever moment they had had was lost.
"I have to go. I'm supposed to be meeting the bellboy in the hotel lobby in ten minutes since I have to back on base tonight. Get to go deal with Dike while you're away," Cora said quickly. She tried to break the tension the best she could.
"Right, yeah. Well, I guess I'll see you soon." Nervous laughter escaped him.
Cora smiled, and with a small wave of her hand, she was off into the night. Her heels clicked against the stone and Dick stood still, listening as her footfalls became quieter and quieter. I guess I'll never know.