Disclaimer: it all belongs to Tarantino. Reviews always appreciated, flames forwarded to Hans Landa!

This is my last update for a couple of days, as I will be on vacation. Never fear :) because in my free time I'll probably be writing, so by the time I get home I should have an update for you all!

"Donny, come on already, buddy! We's goin' out to the field to play some baseball!" Murphy shouted at the window. Donny was slumped in a chair, staring at a clock. "Come on, Donny, don't tell me ya gonna miss out on this!"

The high-backed chair obviously wasn't helping, he was still plenty visible, and he sure wasn't going to stand up and close the curtains on Murphy and the guys. Just ignore 'em, Donny told himself. Pretend they're not even there. He could hear them grumbling, then finally retreating, their shoes scuffing the ground loudly in an attempt to guilt Donny.

The little knife in his right hand, Donny balanced the bat on his knees and started carving names.

He put Murphy's name right on the handle.

The village was called Nadine. They had exchanged the Nazi uniforms for the dress of French civilians, hoping to blend more. Besides, what Germans would be here, in Nadine? As Aldo had put it, the place was too damn small. A Kraut wouldn't care about a place like Nadine.

Aldo had briefly explained the plan to the others; Donny, Stiglitz, and Wicki knew the details well enough, didn't need another briefing.

He had been thinking about Murphy again. The Irish boy. He'd left to go to war before Donowitz, had enlisted in the Marines. He had told Donny he was marrying some girl when he got back from the Pacific, that they were gonna leave Boston and find a better house and have a family and everything.

It had bothered Donny, the thought of Murphy getting married and actually settling down. He had laughed and made some joke. Murphy had laughed too. After Murphy had gone and the baseball games ceased, Donny felt uncomfortable with the man's absence.

Well, shit. He was just starting to understand everything.

He followed Stiglitz into the little hotel; apparently, the Brit had made it their meeting space. The sergeant couldn't help but cringe at its appearance, its slimy dark bricks and mucky windows looking out onto the street.

"Kinda creepy, isn't it?" Utivich was next to him, hands trembling. He felt bad for the Little One, a twinge of guilt hitting his stomach as he realized how he had neglected the kid in the past weeks. He sure acted tough, didn't mind collecting scalps, but Donny was sure inside he was crumbling. We're not so different, Donny realized, flinging an arm around Utivich.

"Don't worry 'bout it, kid."

Someone was crying. It was late at night and someone was fucking crying.

Donny rubbed his eyes and sat up, kicking the flimsy standard-issue blanket away from him before sitting up. It was coming from someone laying across from him- Utivich.

He crawled over using his elbows before leaning over the huddled mass. It was shaking, the blanket pulled over the head and shoulders while leaving the lower half of the body exposed. Poor Utivich. He had the most unfortunate nickname of them all- the Little Man, the Little One. He had the least amount of scalps. Why the shit was he crying?

"Hey." Donny spoke as softly as he could, remembering how mamma used to talk to him, how Aldo spoke in their few intimate moments. He tapped the shoulder a couple of times. "Hey buddy, what's up?"

Utivich gasped, lifting his head up to face his sergeant. "Sorry, Donny." he hiccuped. "I d-didn't mean t-to-I w-was just-" the young man wiped his face clear of tears, obviously frustrated by his weakness, especially in front of Donny Donowitz. You don't cry in front of Aldo, much less Donny.

Donny shook his head. "Stay quiet, would ya? Don't want Aldo hearin' you, or Stiglitz for that matter." he patted Utivich's shoulder again. "Don't explain, it's fine, buddy."

Utivich nodded, blue eyes bleary. It was strange, having the guy who runs around beating Nazis with baseball bats telling you everything would be okay, that you would survive and make it out to see home. But it helped him sleep that night, the nights after.

Donny didn't like this Frau Von Hammersmark. The sound of her name made him think about an old lady with moles and squinty eyes. Hell, she'd fit right in with the hotel and its creaky, stained beds, the rickety floorboards. He was laying sprawled over one of those stained beds now, hand on his stomach, arm behind his head as support- no way in hell was he letting his head touch those pillows.

Stiglitz, Wicki, and the Brit had left for the little restaurant to meet up with her. Utivich was pacing, every now and then glancing his wide blue eyes at Donny. He returned a smile that was as comforting a grin a Bear Jew could give; it seemed to settle his nerves. Aldo was frowning, creases in his forehead; Omar sharing a pack of cigars he had picked up with one of the other guys.

"Stop the fuckin' pacin', Utivich, would ya?" he growled, crossing his arms. "Makin' us all goddamned nervous."

Utivich cringed and apologized, looked around anxiously before deciding his best bet was to simply sit on the floor. "Sorry, lieutenant." he repeated. "Just worried, you know, something goes wrong-"

"Just shut up, Utivich." Aldo snapped, rubbing his face with his hands. Utivich silenced, chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Leave the kid alone, Aldo." Donny frowned. "He's just nervous, what do you want him to do?"

Aldo glowered. "He's a full grown man, last time I checked." His eyes swept the room. "Which reminds me..gotta situation with the big boys back home, Donowitz." it was a hint for the others to leave- a kinder way of saying get the fuck outta here.

The door closed. Donny breathed through his nose again. One, two, three..

He felt the flimsy bed shift weight, creaking dangerously. "Think this lil' shit's gonna break?" the voice in his ear was husky. The lips against his skin were warm, peeling back the old jacket.

"Dammit, Aldo-" Donny murmured. He thought he felt a chuckle against his neck. The older man loosened the jacket before pinning his arms to the mattress. For a brief moment, Donny's mind wandered to Murphy, wondered if he was alive and still intent on marrying that girl. Then he gasped, blood shooting down somewhere low on his body, and he could think nothing else but of the man hovering above him.

"Aldo the Apache catches the Bear Jew," the older man rasped. "Sounds damn good to me."