Author's Note 1: As you read this chapter and the others, remember a few things about Belle: She just lost her father, therefore she went through a major event in her life (and rather traumatic), so she's not in her usual state of mind. Add to that the manipulation, the age gap between siblings (thus Morris is seen as this authoritative figure), and you get a more hesitant Belle than maybe she would be otherwise. Sometimes you don't see the abuse of a Narcissist relationship until after the fact, no matter how 'strong' you normally are.

Chapter 9 Shaking Boots

They were not surprised that there were some Luftwaffe that met them and some casualties ensued, the biggest surprise was that there weren't more Germans greeting them, perhaps the plan had really worked. The additional troops had arrived, and they were to press on. Roger had never seen so many troops, his battles thus far being small things in comparison to whatever this was to be. Seeing all those troops, knowing that there was a need for such numbers, a need for all the tanks that were trampling down the countryside, sent a sick feeling to his stomach that hadn't left yet. However, their first operation was counted as successful, and the boys that had been injured or killed were not one of his, so he could lay down that night shaking with fear but at least not crawling with guilt.

'We aren't going fast enough for old Churchill, apparently.' Jeffries had conspiratorially laughed with Gold. 'But at least some of us are cautious. Some of us know just how surprising the German resistance here in Italy can be.' He then sighed. The slow going of the Italian campaign had been just that-slow. Now they were to finally do what they had set out to do, take over the holdings in Rome and thus take over Italy. Which was fine on paper, but the Americans didn't want to take any chances and the time it was taking to make sure the number of their troops would be sufficient to make an attack sent that horrible feeling to Roger's stomach again.

Roger went to sleep that night, just trying to quell the butterflies that never seemed to land anywhere.

'Gold?' Cassidy's voice seemed so small. Besides Jeffries, Cassidy was the only one that would drop his title, and be more casual with him.

'Mmm?' Roger turned to the young private's voice.

'Are-are you scared?' All at once Cassidy was the little boy who needed his mother's signature to go to war again. All the maturity had drained out of him, and it broke Gold's heart to hear it.

'Aye, always.' He wouldn't lie to him, as much as he would like to, and pretend he was somehow braver than he actually was.

'Are you really? You always seem so calm.'

Roger chuckled. 'Merely a ruse, lad, I'm all sick inside with nerves most days.' He sat up a little and rubbed the back of his neck, surprised at himself over his confession.

'So what do you do…to pretend…' Cassidy seemed so raw in that moment-nothing like the grown man he had been here lately that Roger found himself blurting out.

'I think of Belle.'

'Belle? The princess?' he could hear Cassidy smiling.

Roger felt his chest constrict with nerves over his confession. 'Aye, the princess. I told you before, there's nobody-back home, home being either Scotland or America, take your pick as I haven't a solid footing in either country to consider it so. But now, I have a wee friend, and I pretend I'm fighting for her-to keep her safe. Makes all of this seem worth it somehow. I keep her latest letter and her picture in my pocket, put my hand to my chest sometimes to remember why I'm putting one foot in front of the other. I suppose it may make me seem a bit ridiculous, but you did ask…' Roger suddenly felt ready for a laugh or a scoff, but none came.

'No, no, that's helpful. I think of my family at night-mostly wonder how they are, if they think of me, if they are proud of me. But I'll think of them now when I'm afraid-my, my mother and sisters and brother and remember and put one foot in front of the other, even if the foot shakes, I suppose.'

'Aye, especially if the foot shakes, I think.' Roger smiled wanly.

'So Belle…she's nice, I guess?'

Roger smiled in spite of himself, almost forgetting that he was speaking it aloud when he sighed, 'Aye, that and kind. Bonnie too.'

'Can I see her picture?' Roger could see it for what it was, he wasn't trying to invade his privacy. This was a way to distract himself from the previous conversation and he couldn't blame the lad. A little more of the brave Cassidy was shining through with each word, so Roger swallowed his nerves and pulled out the letter and the picture, handing the latter over to Cassidy, who brought it up to a lantern nearby.

'She's gorgeous, Gold! And is she your girl, now, huh?' The darkened area couldn't hide his freckled smile.

'Oh no, nothing so much as that. She's a friend, a very bonnie friend.' He went all red and rubbed the back of his neck again. This conversation, as glad as he was that Cassidy seemed to be feeling better, was making him feel very uncomfortable. Cassidy could sense it and crossed his arms behind his head, sighed-'hmmmm, oh yea, a very beautiful friend. ' He couldn't see it, but he was sure Cassidy was smirking at him. Roger decided it was best to ignore the gesture, and try to sleep. At least he was thinking of something else besides why the powers that be would need to amass such a large amount of troops unless there was something big that was about to happen-thus dangerous. Now, at least, he was thinking about his bonnie wee friend.

Supplies finally caught up with them, bringing much needed ammunition for the road ahead, and, of course, word from home. Roger eagerly took his letter and walked away from the other men a bit, now needing to be out of sight from both Cassidy and Jeffries, or else be showered with smirks and nudges. He had been so worried for her, and how she was holding up with her recent loss-and hoped that he would know something through her letter.

'Roger,

I received your letter today, and the comfort I felt from it cannot be expressed by mere words on paper. It encourages me to 'Push gaily on, strong heart! The while, You travel forward mile by mile'. Your kindness, despite all that you are currently going through is unmeasurable, dear sir, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have become such a friend to me over these last few months.

I am well, I assure you. I am struggling with a decision right now. My friend, Ruby (the nurse), has strongly encouraged me to go and live with her Grandmother. And while I know that she would most likely welcome me, she lives on a very small budget and has only Ruby's old room to offer. At the same time I feel equally a burden on my brother, and he reminds me of the burden when he thinks about it (which, I admit, is quite often). So, I'll be a burden regardless, now to just decide who can bear it better! Again, I know my little decisions are so tiny compared to what you are going through, but you were so kind to ask, and I hope you now do not regret the asking.

Please send my thanks to Lieutenant Jeffries. I could not have asked for a better pen pal, nor a better friend. I am glad you have such good men around you, and I have a strong suspicion that you are much braver than you give yourself credit for.

I look forward to each letter you send, anxious to hear from you-not only to hear what you might have to say, but also with the assurance of your safety.

Your friend,

Belle'

Roger had smiled at the last words she gave, it gave him such warmth to hear how much she valued their friendship. He didn't know if it reached the levels he had begun to feel towards her, but he was so thankful that she at least seemed happy to hear from him. Then there was the worry he felt upon reading about her conundrum, worry that was even greater now than it had been before. Her best friend was urging her to leave a successful business man's house, her own brother's no less, to the confines of a smaller house-strongly encouraging were the words, but he imagined they were the nice version of the words used to urge her, just like all the other words Belle used. He reminded her often. Her brother made her feel like a burden? What else was he doing? So yes, Roger became quite worried over his little princess and thought nothing of his own worries until the following day, where it became imperative that he focus.

Over the following days, it was useless to think of anything else than the reality that surrounded them. Surrounded them-literally. They had thankfully made it on the other side of a swelled river. The slowness of their arrival had proven to be a problem after all. The attack hinged on the element of surprise, which another troop was to have done from another point. When the first bullets whizzed around them as they tried to get to the other side, they realized the folly of not having had the time to have a group come up ahead and check the area for mines or traps. This meant that they were in the worst possible position and the Germans had anticipated them coming. Cold, tired, and attacked. There were no thoughts in Roger's mind as he tried his best to continue on, they got closer to where he was able to do his duty to the country, no matter that the images would plague his mind for years to come, were he to survive even the next few moments. He knew the bullets and the explosions were getting closer, but he chose not to think of it. Cassidy was as white as a sheet but his face was all set, determination despite his feelings, and Roger couldn't be prouder. He was putting one foot in front of the other, trying to go from one safe spot to another (of which there weren't many) quaking boots and all.

Whoosh, Boom! Went the explosions, closer and closer. Mere yards away he had seen at least three men become victims of the attack.

The sounds came so close that they heard that they needed to retreat back across the river. Rogers' heart was so high, he was sure his neck was hurting from the pressure. All he wanted to do was retreat, and retreat some more, and go back far enough away from the booms, and whizzing bullets, and the possible Luftwaffe bombs. He wanted to find a quiet place, curl up in a ball and think about the war no more. Instead he was taking steps back the way he came, all while hearing the horrific noises around his head.

Then he heard it. That whooshing sound that would come before the boom. Everything went into slow motion and he realized that the explosion had to be coming for him, or very well near him, which was, of course, Cassidy. He lurched forward and grabbed Cassidy's shirt and motioned for him to run, attempting to pull him along with him. He had mere seconds. Roger did not hear the boom. He felt it.

Suddenly his ears were ringing and pain exploded in his leg. Then he knew nothing at all.

…

Belle felt entirely alone. She had been so determined to talk to Granny, to see if she would be willing to have her once she got everything figured out, but she had not had a spare minute to accomplish much at all.

She did her best to enjoy every second of her Sunday morning, for it was the only time that she was away from Morris and any expectations he might have placed on her, even if she would hear them once she got back. Saturdays had become errand days for her, Morris had looked at his watch the following Saturday to time her errands, this was the Saturday after he had assured her that she would only become a burden to Granny, she had no idea if she would find a job, and wouldn't it look badly on their family if she were to suddenly want to separate herself from them? It would look like she didn't love her family and want to be with them, wouldn't it? He had tried so hard to make her feel welcome (he appeared his most human in this speech, and Belle was almost fooled to believe its sincerity), and she didn't appreciate any of it. Why would she want to bother an old lady who had little means, when she could stay with family and help become a productive branch of it? He had used these and other such tactics, and anytime she tried to add her opinion, he somehow would twist her words into meaning something entirely different, and by the end, merely shook her head to get him to stop and determined that she would speak to Granny anyway, but would have to do it as inconspicuous as possible, therefore do it on a Sunday.

Belle found she could hardly focus on Pastor Brown's sermon. She played what words she would use over and over again in her head. This was Granny! Yet Morris words had gotten in her head and she worried that perhaps she would think it all an inconvenience. As soon as the service was over (and after she had put her own thoughts aside for a minute and prayed for her friend Roger, always for her friend Roger, worried about where he was and how he was faring-for she had not heard from him yet) she went to go find Granny. She was sorry that Morris, Cathy, and the boys were not religious, but she couldn't help but be thankful she would not have to try to catch Granny while also trying to keep Morris' eyes away from her.

Granny was laughing with a group of other older women, and had yet seen Belle.

'Yes, yes, I'm making it just fine. Almost glad my Ruby is off being her own woman right now and making her own money. That girl could spend money as fast as we made it-don't think I could manage it right now. No, she is doing some good where she is, and becoming more mature, finally!'

Belle stood in her tracks. She could not approach Granny. She could not burden her with the extra expense. Perhaps she would make enough money to help Granny out, but what if it took weeks for her to find something?

Belle would later realize all of this was irrational. Granny would not so flippantly speak about Ruby being gone (though they had always fought, she knew that Granny would have given anything for Ruby to be there and not away) unless she was trying to make light of how sorry she felt with Ruby being away. This was Belle's thought much later, but for now her mind was only full of worry. The words of Morris were louder now, and her fears of Granny's resentment all the sudden seemed stronger than a few more nights on a couch in a cold room. She would get a job first, then she would ask Granny if she could stay with her. Belle squared her shoulders in determination and then went to hug Granny before arriving back at Morris' house.

'I hope you see all the things that Cathy did for you while you were just sitting around at church today.'

Belle closed her eyes and winced at the words. This was her third Sunday to attend church since she had moved and each time he had pointed out all that had been done in her absence.

'You see that we do all of this and then are still ungrateful enough to leave and do what you want to do.'

Belle narrowed her eyes. 'I am doing something with a higher purpose, Morris, it's called worshiping the Lord. I think He considers such things worthwhile enough to ignore the more earthly goings on. Remember Mary and Martha? Mary was honored for sitting at the feet of Jesus, while Martha was reprimanded for whining to Jesus about what her sister was not doing to get ready for lunch.'

Morris' mouth went into a thin line. 'So you are saying that Cathy is wrong for making your lunch? That I am doing something wrong for getting our finances done for the week to make sure you have food to eat and a warm house to come to? Am I sinning?' His arms were crossed and daring her to accuse him.

'You would know that better than me-are you?'

Morris stood up suddenly, his overwhelming height shadowing Belle. 'What disrespectful nonsense! You cannot be allowed to speak to me that way-how dare you! After everything I've done, you continue to disrespect me and my family. What do you think I should do about this?'

Fear blossomed in Belle's chest. 'What do you mean?'

'I told you, I won't allow you to have an attitude with me. I think there should be consequences for it. What do you think that should be?'

'I'm not a child to be punished, therefore I'm not going to name my own punishment!'

Morris crossed his arms again. 'When you act like a child, I'll treat you like a child. I think you should go ask Cathy what needs to be done around the house and forgo lunch, since you had no hand in helping prepare it.'

She had no appetite anyway. She didn't answer and turned away from him, most likely solidifying her childishness.

That was the beginning of things, it seemed. He would complain when she went to church, he would complain if she went to the store, telling her beforehand how long it should take to complete the tasks and complain if she went even fifteen minutes over the amount he deemed necessary, not caring that it might be something out of her control that had caused such delays. She was weary, in every way that the word could mean. During the week she worked from morning to night, the evenings were spent helping the boys with homework, cleaning up after meals, and then collapsing on the couch in dead slumber. She was woken cruelly by the youngest child to the pleasure of his father (who he looked up to, trying to get validation and approval for his job well done) and the annoyance of his oldest brother.

This particular morning it had been a toy horn placed right above her ear.

'Rise and shine!' He shouted.

'John!' David scolded.

'What? Father said it was about time she woke up, Saturday or not.'

'It's alright, David, I'm awake now.' Belle sleepily rubbed at her sore ear. She knew the consequences of David standing up for her.

'That gives you no cause to wake her up like that-that's the third time you've done that, can't you just wake her up like a normal human being?'

'David!' Morris' voice barked. David stilled where he stood and went white.

Morris never hit the boys, but his voice and consequences could be harsh.

'You're Not the father, don't scold John, do you understand?'

David merely nodded his head and said 'yes sir' and turned away from them all.

Now that Belle was in town running errands, Morris all the while counting the minutes she was gone, she hurriedly stopped to see if she had a letter, only from Ruby (which she scolded herself for the sheer disappointment of seeing Ruby's name. She was just anxious to hear from Roger again) She would have to pocket it to read it once everyone was in bed, then wait to post another letter in return, but she would not forgo her correspondence no matter what.

'Hello, Sister.' She was startled at Leroy's growly voice in the supermarket. He was there working-having several janitor positions around town to make money. This was a new place, which meant he must have lost one of his others-he did his job well, but his personality sometimes was a disadvantage to him.

'Leroy! How very good to see you!' Belle beamed.

'Figured you had forgotten all about us over at the ARC.' A smile was hidden underneath the scowl, which would have made him seem frightening, if he would have been taller.

'Oh no, I miss you all! M-my father, you see…'

'It's alright, I know. And you are doing alright?' His concern seemed almost as foreign to him as it was to her and she smiled in spite of herself.

'I'm alright. Have you-have you heard from Randy?'

He nodded. 'Well enough, I imagine. But you're good? You're okay? You look-tired.'

She crossed her arms in mock offense.

'You know what I mean.' He was back to his gruff self, the momentary lapse now checked. She could have cried from his concern.

'I'm just tired, I work now-can't choose my own hours anymore.' She tried to giggle. 'Good to see you, Leroy.' And they nodded to each other and she smiled, he was neutral, which was basically a smile for him. She left feeling lighter somehow. Knowing she had friends who cared was such a blessing and she wiped a tear away as she headed back to Morris' house.

She somehow got back in record time, with five whole minutes to spare. Morris looked at his watch and then looked at her. 'Now I know you can get done in –hours, so you'll be quicker next time, won't you?'

Belle did not nod her head, shake it, or do anything else. She just looked definitely in his face and went to see what Cathy would have her do. She needed to get out of that house, she just wanted to do it the right way.

Author's Note 2:History stuff:

I stated before that I am loosely basing this on the Italian Campaign, the winter line and now I'm very, very (fairly inaccurately) basing this on the Battle of Monte Cassino. I put Roger in the areas I wanted him to be to further the plot I wanted, but him being from where he is, and his position, he would most likely would not have been there-but I wanted him to be, and this is fan fiction, so...please forgive me? The swelled river, being slow, Churchill's comment, were all real things, however.
Luftwaffe : German Air Force
Even though Morris was not religious, he would have been familiar with the Bible, as he was not only raised that way, but also, knowledge of it was more common, thus he would have understood the reference.

Story stuff:
Poem that Belle quotes from in her letter is 'Consolation' by Robert Louis Stephenson. It's so beautiful and sad. It's about continuing on after the death of a loved one.
Hopefully it's understandable (based on what I said in my beginning note and in the story), the muddle Belle's brain is in and the reasoning she gives for everything.
I also hope Gold being so open with Cassidy makes sense too. It felt like the right thing to add :)
And I couldn't help adding a scene with Leroy-because he's Leroy! Also, Belle needed to know people around her care.
Sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger, but I'll try to get another chapter posted as soon as possible!

Thank you for reading, and I would love to hear what you think!