Somewhere down the echoing hospital hallway, someone is playing a record. The music rouses me from a light doze. Leon's well-worn copy of Faust rests open on my lap. The midmorning sunlight glares through the large windows against the white sheets and screens of the hall. There are only a few other patients present. It's surprising not to see more beds filled. It'll be some time before I'm used to men not being torn to pieces on a daily basis.

"Tannhäuser."

My gaze shoots over to Leon on the bed. His eyes are closed. I wonder if I'm hearing things. I have only caught a couple hours of sleep. It's entirely possible.

"They are playing the overture." I see his mouth move and I know I didn't imagine it, "For the opera; Tannhäuser."

I drop down beside him and grasp his hand in mine. His eyelids peel back, his artic blue gaze honed sharp on the watermarked ceiling.

"Leon?" I gasp, clutching his chilled fingers, "Leon, it's me."

"I know." He turns his head ever so slightly, lifting his pointer finger and lightly touching my chin, "Ruth."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Give me a moment." He shuts his eyes and exhales, "I'd like to listen. It's a German opera, you know."

"No, I didn't." I choke out a smile.

"By Wagner." The corner of his mouth tugs upwards, "About love and redemption."

The Previous Evening

There were so many times he could have died.

The day the continent was invaded; there were explosions and fire. Debris could have easily caved in his skull and he never would have known what hit him. There was the time during their retreat towards the Rhine, while taking shelter in a derelict bakery, a sniper had nailed the replacement directly behind him as Leon knelt to the floor. Staring at the wide eyed shock on the dead boy's face, Leon knew that the sniper had been aiming for him and had missed.

He wondered how he could be their family's survivor and not Paul. Paul was the athlete, almost a foot taller. With arms like tree trunks, a booming voice and a chiseled, stern jaw that drew men to him. He effortlessly eased into the role of a leader. Paul Wagner was the kind of man born for a time such as their own.

Leon cut away his thoughts from his dead brother. He didn't have the energy to dwell on him for long. Someday he would, just not right then.

His silent driver slowed the car as they turned a corner. In the near pitch darkness with only the ghostly lamp of the moon shifting through black summer foliage, there was a car on the side of the road. The door was open and a man was stumbling around the boot. He kicked the wheel savagely, falling back a step.

"Wait." Leon reached out and laid a hand on the driver's arm, "He could need help."

The DP grunted with a shrug but didn't argue. He pulled the car over to the lip of the road. The man shielded his eyes from the glare of the headlights. Leon shed his jacket from his shoulders and opened the passenger side door. With a grimace, he stepped out onto the pavement. He limped towards the man. Pain shot through Leon's calf, his electrified nerves frying his brain. But he kept on walking. The man faltered like he had been hurt.

"Do you require assistance?" Leon asked, his voice strained.

"I require gas." The man tipped back a bottle of liquor.

Leon studied his sweaty face. His American paratrooper uniform was disheveled and gaze glassy. He was drunk. He gave Leon a swift once over before taking another swig.

"Hey, you're in a Kraut uniform." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"The war is over, friend." Leon's brow narrowed as the man approached him, "Can we give you a ride?"

"Just give me your gas, friend." The man sneered, "What the fuck do you need it for anyhow?"

"You are in no condition to drive."

"Who the hell do you think you are, Kraut? The Führer?"

Leon took a step back and held out his hands as the man reached for his pistol. He heard his driver get out of the car and run towards them. Leon swallowed hard.

"There is no need-"

"No, you aren't the Führer." The man gave him a sickly smile, swinging the gun around, "He done shot himself. Too bad for you folks."

Leon's hands lifted higher as the man took aim. His mouth went dry. There had been many times he had been faced with death. This time felt different.

"Please-"

"The only good Kraut is a dead one."

The soldier pulled the trigger. Leon felt the burn of the bullet. He fell hard and cracked his head on the pavement. The lights went out fast.

My hands are trembling. I clutch them tighter in my lap. I can feel Tab's worried gaze stab back and forth from me to the road. His arm is around the back of the seat. He grasps my shoulder.

"Ruth, are you okay?"

"Fine."

"They said he might pull through. The next few hours are critical."

Critical. Crucial. Urgent. My thoughts are conjuring synonyms in an attempt to maintain clarity. Otherwise, I'd fall apart. My heart has been pounding since I heard the news. I didn't know Chuck Grant very well but every time we met, I had been impressed by his easy going nature and positivity. The boys of Easy Company are out hunting down his assailant like a dog. Unbeknownst to them, it's the same brute who shot Leon.

Leon had been found alive on the road along with Grant. Cut through the torso with a bullet. The injury to his head was what worried the doctors seeing to him, according to Tab. The DP who had been driving him was killed. As was a British officer who stopped soon after the first shots were fired.

I imagine Grendel slinking in the shadows, waging his lonely war, razor claws and fangs slick with new blood. Peace is a word eternally foreign to the diseased hearts of some men.

My thoughts shudder to a halt as George Luz races towards our car from one of the buildings. He is breathless as we pull up.

"They got 'em." He gasps with a gulp, "They got the bastard. Just brought him in a minute ago."

"Where?" Tab leans across me towards him, his tone deadly low.

"Back in the parlor area." Luz puffs at his cigarette, "Got the bastard. He was forcing himself on a poor Austrian girl. Any news on Grant yet?"

"Not sure. He's in surgery-"

I tear open the door and push past Luz.

"Ruth?" Tab calls, jumping from the driver's side as I stride into the building.

The hate that had almost dissipated has resurfaced with a vengeance. It has a new target for its venom and aggression feels as natural as breathing this time.

They are already roughing him up in the room when I enter. I barely register the faces of my brother's fellow men in arms. Boys I know all too well, whom I have helped tend the wounds of and drank with as friends. Their countenances seethe with barely contained rage. Joe Liebgott lays a heavy left hook into the man's belly and he doubles over with a gasp. They don't even register my presence until I am standing directly in front of the man.

"Ruthie?" Joe wipes his nose with his sleeve.

The man lifts his head, his pinched face twisting in pain. He gives me a bloody smirk.

"Come to join the party, sweetheart?"

I am all raw fists and teeth. Sweat and his blood slicking my hands. Salt on my tongue. I screech like an animal, like Grendel's mother. I tear out a clump of hair, my nails digging into his hairline on his forehead until I draw blood. I want to scalp him. I knee him in the groin and Joe grabs me by my torso.

He and Tab drag me through the crowd of stunned men. I struggle against them until we emerge into the warm summer night. I collapse into Joe who sets me aright.

"I didn't even know she was close to Chuck." Joe states towards Tab with wide dark eyes.

Gathering me in his arms, Tab carries me to the car.

"I'll explain later." He calls over his shoulder as he sets me into the passenger side, "Look at me, Ruthie."

My hands are strangely still. My heart rate slows. Tab takes a handkerchief from my coat pocket and dabs some water from a canteen on it. The blood he wipes from my forehead and hands isn't mine.

"I'm taking you home." He sighs, "I never should have brought you out. Just should have waited till morning."

"No," I grasp his forearm, meeting his eyes, "Please, Floyd. I need to see him."

"Ruthie-"

"Please." I whisper past the ache in my throat.

Tab drops his head. Running a hand through his hair, he shuts the passenger side door firmly. He gets into the jeep and we continue towards the civilian hospital where Leon and Grant were brought.

Author's Note: Phew, ok... not going to lie... I'm glad to be over this chapter.

Haha I'm so sorry y'all for the cliffhanger last chapter! Since this is another non-linear storyline, its sometimes difficult to figure out where to break up chapters. I'm still wondering if I should have continued with this one but we'll see how it flows when I get out Chapter 13. I love you guys, for real. Your reviews mean so much. And I'm so glad y'all have adopted Leon. I'm kind of in love with him too.

Also, on a random side note, I found an article about a real life American nurse who fell in love with a German POW during the war. Though they met while he was detained in America, I was stoked to read it. I highly recommend checking it out.

cityroom. blogs. nytimes / 2013/05/15/a-black-nurse-a-german-soldier-and-an-unlikely-wwii-romance/?smid=fb-share&_r=0

just put the .com behind the nytimes and the http in front... i wish we could do links up on here!