Disclaimers: all the usual apply
Chapter 22
Amelia POV
When she was a young girl, her family always spent Christmas in New York. She would get so excited when the first snow fell that she'd run outside with only her slippers on her feet, her giddy laughter forming a tail behind her. She'd tilt her head up to the sky and stick out her tongue as she tried to catch as many snowflakes as possible. It would never be long and her sister would come and find her, sent by their mother to bring her back inside before she caught a cold. But she never did bring her straight in. No, Samantha would do the exact same thing until finally their mother came to call them back inside herself with hands firmly placed on her hips.
Now, trudging through ankle deep snow with insufficient winter clothing and the only respite being promised by a foxhole dug into the cold hard ground, she wished it would never snow again.
Easy had been sent to help defend the town of Bastogne from the fast approaching German army. The only problem was that as soon as the Americans had arrived they'd been surrounded by the enemy and cut-off. This meant no supplies, no way to evacuate the wounded past Bastogne and no retreat.
So, they'd dug in around the town in a thin line and waited. It hadn't taken to long for the Germans to welcome them with an artillery barrage from hell when one frozen replacement decided to light a fire and give away their position. After that the rules were clear, no fires at night.
She and Derek officially shared a foxhole, not that they were there to use it that often. Dike, in all his wisdom, had decided to use his two snipers as scouts to go and test not only the American line for gaps, but to see if they could find any in the German line as well. He'd insisted that they go out every day, all day, only returning back to their section of the line once darkness had fallen. This wouldn't have been so bad if they had the correct clothing. But instead of the white camouflage jackets they should have had they still only wore their basic olive drab which made them stand out in stark contrast to the ghostly white landscape that surrounded them.
The sun had just dipped beneath the horizon when they found Easy's part of the line after another day spent playing cat and mouse with the enemy. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time in hours and suddenly she became acutely aware of how stiff all her muscles really were. Slinging her rifle over her right shoulder she crossed her arms and stuffed her hands underneath her armpits in an attempt to ease the pain in her finger joints.
"Go get something to eat. I'll come find you after I report to Dike," Derek spoke beside her without looking her way.
They took turns reporting to Dike, since it could take a decent amount of time to find the man. For some incomprehensible reason he always seemed to vanish into thin air, with no one able to tell you where he went. So you would walk around from foxhole to foxhole until by some miracle he would appear out of the blue.
"Don't take too long. If you can't find him, we'll just report tomorrow morning before head out."
He reached over and lightly patted her shoulder before turning in the direction of Battalion HQ where Winters had set up and always the first place to start looking for Dike.
She dipped her head to try and shield her face from the biting cold as much as possible as she searched for one of her friends. She used the sound of snow and twigs crunching underneath her boots with every step to keep track of how far she'd gone. She really didn't feel like stumbling all the way into the German line in the now pitch darkness.
"Em, is that you?" the unmistakable voice of Bill came out of the dark to her left and her feet turned that way without her having to tell them.
She dropped hard into the foxhole beside Bill. She swung her rifle from her shoulder as she sat down heavily. Lifting her eyes for the first time since entering the Easy line she looked around the foxhole to see who was there besides Bill.
As expected her green eyes met the warm brown ones of Babe sitting across from her and a small smile tugged at the corners of her cracked and swollen lips. Bill and Babe had become really close over their time together in Easy, so they often shared a foxhole. If she was completely honest with herself this was one of the reasons why she'd walked past several other foxholes before jumping into this one. A part of her was looking for Babe Heffron.
Bill nudged her in the ribs and she jerked her eyes away from Babe's to look questioningly at her friend.
"Anything happen today?" Bill asked and she saw the simmering anger behind his eyes.
It was dangerous to move about during the day. The Germans loved shelling them for one thing, but their lines were so close and porous it was easy to stumble upon a German section of the line unexpectedly. On their first day out that's exactly what had happened and it was only by some miracle that she and Derek had made it back alive. Of course Dike had seen this as some form of a victory and after that had ordered them out every day.
The men hated the order. She would often hear them complaining about it amongst themselves. There was nothing anyone could do about it though. Orders were orders. It seemed the only way out was to get killed.
"Not bad. We were able to ambush a small Kraut scouting party. Only three guys. Killed them all. Spent some time on Dog's side of the line. Otherwise quiet. Here?"
"The usual. Dike nowhere to be found and the Krauts testing our line," Bill replied as he handed her a tin mug of nearly frozen gruel and a spoon. They were never here when food was served, so Bill would get hers while Lipton got Derek's. It was cold and disgusting but it was still better than nothing.
Accepting the mug, she wrapped her fingers around the metal and she swore she could feel the cold through her gloves. "Anyone get hit?"
"Nothing major," Bill replied.
"That's good. Do you know who has our packs?"
"Here," Babe said as he patted two packs shoved up against the side of the foxhole.
It's nice when things work out, she smiled to herself.
She reluctantly unzipped her jacket a fraction and found two of the precious items she kept hidden close to her heart. A cigarette and a lighter. With supplies already running low and the freezing cold making your bones ache the men had burnt through their smokes at an alarming rate. One of the few perks of having to move around all day meant she couldn't smoke even if she wanted to, so her supply was still relatively healthy. Even so, she rationed herself to one a day, sharing with whoever was closest at the time.
She tried and failed to light the cigarette with her clumsy fingers and was just about to let of a colorful string of curses when Babe reached over and took the smoke from her lips and lighter from her hands.
Without saying a word, he effortlessly lit the smoke and she was mesmerized by the way his lips curled around the cigarette. He took a long drag and as he handed back the cigarette their fingers brushed and she felt a warmth spread from the base of her stomach up to her chest. For the first time that day she wasn't cold as his eyes remained locked on hers and their hands paused mid-air.
She heard a snicker beside her and her brain remembered Bill sitting right next to her.
Damnit, she swore in her head and they quickly moved away from each other.
Placing the cigarette between her lips she took a long drag and closed her eyes as she waited for her heart to steady. After a few beats she handed the smoke over to Bill as she finished eating.
The three of them finished the smoke quickly, passing it between them in a comfortable silence. The cold meant it took a lot of effort to talk, so most nights she only shared a few words with the men before they settled into this small routine.
"Em, what's worse. The heat in Africa or this cold?" Babe asked her as he flicked the butt of the cigarette outside the foxhole.
"When we were in Africa, it was so damn hot I spent a few nights praying for snow. If I could go back now to that moment, I'd punch myself in the face. The cold is definitely worse by far."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. And to think, I used to like winter."
"So did I. I loved playing in the snow with my sister while my dad sat on the park bench reading his paper. Then afterwards we'd have fresh apple pie and hot chocolate at home in-front of the fire as we took turns telling my mom about our day out. It was always the same, but she pretended to hear it for the first time every time." She blinked away the tears that stung her eyes as the memory of her previous life came flooding back to her now that her guard was down and her nerves were frayed by this place.
Bill pulled her to his side and squeezed her shoulder so hard it almost hurt. "That sounds great beautiful. You'll love winter in Philly and my ma makes a great apple pie."
"You inviting me to Philly Bill?" she teased him.
"Em, you were invited since the first day I met ya."
"I'm gonna take you up on that."
"Good. Me and Babe can show you around the old neighborhood."
Holding Babe's gaze, she said, "I'd really like that."
A smile flicked across his lips and Bill finally let go of her shoulder.
"I gotta check on the guys," Bill said as he moved to climb out of the foxhole.
As soon as he was gone she swore the wind came up because suddenly she was freezing on all sides and she felt her muscles start to tighten uncontrollably.
"Come here," Babe said as he held open his arms.
He didn't have to ask her twice. She crawled over to his side of the foxhole and snuggled in between his legs as his strong arms encircled her in a halo of heat and she buried her face against his chest.
She counted his heartbeat in her head and was just about to slip into a fitful sleep when she felt his chest rise beneath her as he took a very long breath. "I thought you'd chosen Joe."
Her eyes flew open and she sat up so she could look into his eyes. What she hadn't bargained on was how close his face would be to hers and whatever she was going to say vanished from her brain the instant her eyes met his.
A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
"Um…wait, what?" she finally found her voice, but it came out high and uneven.
"That's why I was being a jerk. I thought you'd chosen Joe and I didn't really wanna come and talk to you 'bout it in case I was right."
Her face softened into a warm smile and she placed her head back down onto his chest. "I never chose Joe. What happened between us was never going to work. He'll always be important to me, but we'll never end up together."
"I'm so sorry for hurting you Amelia, and for wasting all that time."
"It's OK. We all screw up sometimes."
"Maybe, but…" he abruptly stopped speaking as if the words were caught in his throat and she tilted her chin up to look at him.
He was looking off into the dark as his jaw clenched and unclenched.
"But what?" she finally asked when he didn't look like he was going to finish the sentence on his own.
Without looking down at her he answered after another long stretch of silence. "But if I messed up any chance I had with you I'll always regret it."
She sat up and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his left cheek, right next to his lips. She breathed in deeply as she filled her lungs with his scent and his arms tightened around her waist.
Slowly moving away from his cheek, her lips brushed against his earlobe as she said, "You still have a chance. So what are you going to do about it?"
A soft moan escaped his lips and a wicked little smile played at hers.
"Shit," he hissed next to her ear and she frowned. This wasn't quite the reaction she'd been hoping for.
The sound of snow crunching under heavy boots made her jerk her face around just in time to see Derek jump into the foxhole with a knowing smirk.
She glared at him, daring him to say anything but he simply chuckled.
"Get some rest princess. We got the same orders for tomorrow," Derek said as his eyes flicked between her and Babe.
She considered moving away from Babe, but she was as warm as she was going to get and to damn exhausted to care what Derek thought. Besides, tomorrow she had to go on another suicide mission so she was going to fall asleep in Babe's arms at least once in her life.
Closing her eyes, she rested her head against Babe's chest and she swore she heard Derek nod in approval.
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Roe POV
Standing off to one side he observed the small group of soldiers closely in the dim, early morning light. The men had just received their first ration of the day, a piece of marginally warmed K-ration and some tepid coffee. A feast considering how low they're supplies were. They'd settled into small groups, some standing while other's perched on a few logs, as they quickly forced down the food before it became a solid frozen mass again.
His cool, dark eyes fell onto the familiar form of Amelia where she was having an animated conversation with Derek, Johnny and Babe. It had only been two days since he'd last seen her but she looked smaller somehow. He tried to put it down to the fact that she was wearing as many layers of clothing as the men could find for her, but the purple circles under her eyes and the sharp angles of her cheekbones made him worry.
As if she could hear his thoughts she turned to him. She said something to the men before making her way over to where he was standing by himself. Her face split into huge smile and his own lips turned up a fraction of their own accord. He suspected that had been her mission all along coming over here.
"Hey there Gene," she greeted as she came to stand in-front of him.
"Chèrie. How you?"
She shrugged. "Cold. You?"
"Cold," he replied with a wry smile.
"So the usual then."
"You getting any sleep?" he asked her.
"Why, do I look like I'm not getting enough sleep?"
"Yes."
Her lips turned into a lopsided smile as she handed him a lit cigarette. "Gee thanks Gene. Kick a girl when she's down."
He chuckled as he took a long drag and felt the smoke warm him from the inside for a fraction of a second before the cold set in again.
He handed her back the smoke but she casually waved it off. "We're moving out."
He took another drag to calm his rising temper. Amelia and Derek out there every day was asking for trouble and everybody knew it.
She saw the dark look in his eyes but just shrugged in response.
"Oh here," she said as she reached into her jacket and handed him two morphine syrettes. "Heard your supplies are running low. I'll keep the bandages in case one of us gets hit when we're away. Not that they'll help much."
He pursed his lips as he took the desperately needed morphine. Looking up to meet her dark eyes he saw a flicker of fear which had never been there before. Bridging the small distance between them he pulled her into a protective embrace. "I'll find you tonight," he whispered.
"Take care of yourself Gene," she mumbled against his chest.
With a final squeeze he let her go and watched as she walked towards a waiting Derek and they both disappeared into the white forest just as the snow started to fall again and a heavy fog swallowed them whole.
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Amelia POV
"It's so cold, I don't think I can feel my face anymore. Scratch that, I definitely cannot feel my face. To damn cold," she grumbled to Derek trudging through the snow beside her.
They'd spent the day moving between the German line and their own and were now moving back to Easy's position. All in all, it was a pretty quiet day. They saw the German line once, but the heavy fog that had settled over the forest and the accompanying snowfall meant they had to be careful otherwise they'd easily stumble right into a German position.
"I can't remember the last time I could feel my face, or anything for that matter. Man I miss Africa," Derek joked and she nodded her head in agreement.
"When we get back to the States, I'm gonna go fishing with Dick and Nix," Derek said out of the blue.
She shot a skeptical look his way, convinced he'd officially lost it.
"What?" he retorted when he glanced over at her.
"You really think we're gonna make it back home?"
"You don't?"
She shrugged. "I hope we do, obviously, but I'm not betting on it."
"Fuck, that's quite bleak."
"Maybe, but I'm not even making plans for tomorrow let alone god-knows how long from now until this stupid war ends."
"That may actually be the saddest thing I've heard in a long time."
She rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "So fishing huh? I can see that. It would suit you. Beer in hand. You and Nix shooting the shit while Dick tries in vain to keep you two quiet so he can actually catch some fish."
"Yeah, it's gonna be great," he exclaimed.
She couldn't help but smile at his boyish grin and enthusiasm. He never ceased to amaze her, even after all their years together.
"So, you're really not making any plans? Not even for you and Babe?"
"Why would I be making plans for me and Babe?" she asked.
"I was in the foxhole last night remember. I saw you two almost kissing."
She felt the heat run up her neck as her cheeks started to turn pink. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Whatever," he retorted before continuing. "I saw the way he looked at you after you fell asleep. Trust me, a man doesn't look at a woman like that if she isn't part of his future plans."
She stole a glance at him to see if he was pulling her leg but his face was sincere. A silly smile betrayed her excitement at his insight and he chuckled.
Unfamiliar laughter and gruff male voices floated to her ears from the way they'd just came and her insides froze solid in an instant.
They both stopped instantly and locked eyes, waiting to hear if they'd heard right the first time. By their best estimates they were well inside their own lines so the voices could belong to American soldiers. But something in the way the laugh carried and the hard tones of the voices made them hesitate.
After seconds of dead silence, she exhaled and her muscles relaxed. She and Derek shared a nervous chuckle, the white landscape and thick fog must be making them paranoid.
Just as she was about to take a step forward she heard a voice again. This time though she could clearly hear the words, and they sure as hell weren't English.
"Move," Derek whispered the order as he pointed her towards a large tree to her left while he simultaneously moved to his right to take cover behind a tree of his own.
The heavy footfalls of men walking without a care in the world drew closer and their harsh laughter rang in her ears.
Fuck, they don't know they're inside our lines, she realized.
They had to kill them all. If any one of them got back to their own lines and reported how porous the American lines were they would be in deep trouble.
She carefully peered around the tree to try and get a glimpse of the approaching soldiers. Six men were coming right at them.
She snapped her head back around and signaled to Derek. His mouth was set and his eyes narrowed.
She only had two bullets left and she safely assumed Derek was in the same boat. That meant they had four or five shots, maybe, between the two of them, with six armed Germans to kill.
Derek signaled for her to allow them to pass and wait for his signal before taking her shot.
She nodded. They were outnumbered and out gunned. The element of surprise was the only advantage they had, they had to hold onto it as long as they could.
She rolled her shoulders back and tightened her grip on her rifle. Taking a deep, deliberate breath she readied her muscles and her mind for what was to come. The voices grew closer. Laughing and joking. They sounded young she thought.
Her heart jumped into her throat and she didn't feel the cold anymore as a drop of sweat ran down her spine.
The snow still fell, but it was as if time had slowed somehow as she was able to follow the trail of a single snowflake that danced in-front of her face.
A twig snapped to her left and she forced herself not to jerk in the direction of the sound.
Her eyes flicked to Derek, at the same moment a grey German coat obstructed her view of him. Suddenly all six men walked past them, completely unaware of the two American soldiers lying in wait.
A split second later the ungodly silence was shattered by a single gunshot.
She fired her first shot into the back of the man who'd passed to her left. The sound had barely rang out when she turned to the German who'd passed between her and Derek. He turned around just in time for her to see the look of surprise on his young face before she pulled the trigger and shot him square between the eyes.
Something was wrong, her brain screamed. She'd only heard one shot from Derek but there should have been more.
Flinging herself around to face his position she was just in time to see the blow heading for her face. She jerked back and it glanced off the edge of her helmet, causing her head to whip to the right as her helmet went flying.
She registered a shot ringing out and a man screaming, but she didn't have time to see what had happened. Her assailant was clumsily grabbing at the gun slung over his shoulder. She reached for her trench knife and gripped it in her right hand as she charged him.
He was moving too slow, hesitating when he realized she was a woman. They always made that mistake.
She crashed her body into his, knife jabbed between them, just as three shots in quick succession sounded behind her, like a clap of thunder after a lightning strike.
They tumbled to the ground and she fell on-top of the German. He grunted as the impact knocked the wind from his lungs and her blade drove in under his ribs to pierce a lung.
She met his eyes and they were filled with shock and fear. She twisted her blade and a warm spray of blood landed on her cheek as he grunted and coughed. His body convulsed as it tried to push her off, but he was too weak and the surge of adrenaline made her abnormally strong. She pushed down harder on the blade and watched as the life faded from his eyes and his body stilled beneath her.
Getting to her feet she pulled out the knife. Her lungs were burning from the exertion and the ice cold air, she had blood all over her and her ears were still ringing from the blow to her head.
But none of that mattered. All she heard, all she felt around her like some suffocating blanket, was dead silence.
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Derek POV
He'd shot the first Kraut in the back. When he turned his gun on the second German he pulled the trigger, but instead of the familiar thud of his rifle against his shoulder he was met by a sickening stillness.
He pulled the trigger franticly and still nothing happened. He was out of bullets. He'd made a mistake.
The German closest to him was the first to react. He swung his own gun from his shoulder and leveled it at his face.
Throwing his useless rifle to the ground he quickly closed the distance between them in two strides. He gripped the barrel of the German's gun and tugged hard, bringing his knee to meet the soldier between the legs with all the force he could muster.
The man's grip loosened a fraction and in one fluid movement he jerked the rifle from his flimsy grasp, turned it on its previous owner and shot him in the stomach. The man's mouth opened as if to scream but the sound was drowned out by the hard impact of a rifle butt to the side of Derek's face.
He stumbled backwards, nearly losing his footing, but by some miracle he held his grasp on the gun. The third enemy soldier raised his weapon and time slowed. For the first time since the attack had begun did he really see the man who held his life in his hands. He was younger than Derek had expected, a kid. The whites of his eyes were massive and his lips were curled back from his teeth.
The soldier's eyes flicked to where his friend was facing Amelia behind Derek's back and he seized the momentary distraction. Raising his weapon, he pulled the trigger once just as the German's dark blue eyes flicked back to the barrel of his gun. He registered the German's finger curl around the metal of his own trigger and a split second later a blinding pain radiated up from his stomach, followed quickly by a second white-hot stab to his chest. The impact of the second shot threw him backwards as the scream was driven from his lungs.
As he lay on the snow covered ground he turned his head to try and see where the German was. What he found were two lifeless eyes staring back at him.
He turned his head away from the dead man's face and was mesmerized by the snow falling, the beauty of it, and how it kept falling no matter what. A deep weariness covered him like a wave, threatening to pull him under. He fought, at least he tried to, but finally he succumbed to the warm embrace and allowed his eyes to drop.
"Derek?" he heard Amelia's voice coming from miles away.
He was so warm, and there was no more pain or fear. He wanted to go to her but he so desperately wanted to stay here a little while longer.
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Amelia POV
"Derek?" she whispered into the fog, too afraid to turn around.
All that met her was a deafening silence and the hysteria started to claw at her throat.
Her body refused to turn around, because once she did there would be no unseeing it. No pretending that what she feared most hadn't happened.
So she stood rooted to her spot, back turned to where she'd last seen him. "Derek, are you there?"
Nothing.
She slowly turned around and her breath caught in her throat. Bodies were sprawled all around her, turning the white snow a sickening red.
Her mind was still spinning from the horror that surrounded her but her legs moved none the less.
Falling to her knees beside Derek's prone body she grabbed his face with both hands. "Derek! Derek say something damnit!"
A whisper of a groan escaped his lips and her heart collided with her ribcage.
"You're OK. I'm here now."
His eyes fluttered open and his face instantly contorted into a mask of agony and distress. Her eyes flicked from his face to his torso and she bit her lip hard to stop the hysteria from bubbling over. He'd been shot at least twice from what she could tell. The large red stain spreading from his stomach had already merged with the one running down his chest. Even through all the layers he was wearing his clothing was already drenched and the snow around him was turning a deep crimson.
"Ssshhhh….it's not that bad," she lied.
She reached into her jacket and took out her aid kit. She flashed back to that morning when she'd joked with Gene about keeping the bandage in case one of them needed it. Looking at the flimsy piece of white cloth now she nearly burst out laughing.
"It's OK. I got you," she hushed as she desperately tried to staunch the flow of blood with her two hands and the one crisp white bandage. One hand on each wound, both warm from her friend's blood oozing between her fingers.
Her mind was racing, franticly searching for something that would save his life. Suddenly she did the only thing she could think of.
"MEDIC!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as she allowed the terror to take hold.
Weak fingers brushed her hand pressed to his chest, forcing her to look away from the blood spilling past her fingers to his beautiful grey eyes.
Those dark eyes that always held so much life were ashen now and he'd turned the same color as the snow.
"It's OK Amelia," he groaned.
"No, no it's not! It's not OK, because you aren't going to die today!" Tears stung her eyes and her throat tightened around her scream.
"Amelia, come here," he whispered into the wind.
Reluctantly she lifted her hands from his wounds and she moved to sit by his head, placing his head in her lap.
She smoothed his hair over and over again, trying and calm herself down more than him.
"We're inside our lines. Someone will find us soon and then we'll get you to Doc. So you just have to hold on a little bit more. Please," she pleaded desperately.
A lone tear escaped from the corner of his eye and rolled down his face. "No one's coming in time Amelia."
She blinked away her own tears. Now was not her time to cry, she had to be strong for him, had to keep it together.
"Tell my mom I love her and my dad that he's the best man I ever knew," Derek sounded like he was hovering between sleep and wakefulness.
"Don't you dare give me one of those goodbye speeches. You keep fighting."
Ignoring her pleas, he continued, "Get my things to them."
"I will. I'll make sure they get all your things."
He grunted softly. "My diary. I want you to have it."
"M'hm" was all she could manage as tiny red droplets stained his blue lips.
"I love you Amelia. You're my little sister."
"And you're my annoying older brother," she tried to smile through the agony.
"Promise me you'll really try to make it out of this thing alive. Edward's a good guy, he'll take good care of you if you let him," he whispered so softly she had to place her ear next to his lips to catch every word.
"I promise, for you." She pressed her lips to his freezing forehead. "I love you so much," she whispered against his skin.
A gurgle escaped his throat and her eyes snapped up to meet his in time to see the last bit of light fade from them.
Shaking his shoulders as if she could wake him up from a deep sleep she screamed, "No, no! Wake up Derek! Please wake up!"
His head lolled to one side and his lifeless eyes stared off into space. Her heart shattered into a million pieces and all those walls she took so much care to construct came crashing down all around her.
A wail clawed its way up from the pit of her stomach to escape through her lips as she screamed all her heartbreak into the frozen air. Still holding onto him she rocked back and forth as sob after sob wracked her body.
There were no coherent thoughts. There was only a familiar blinding pain. It was the same pain she'd felt when her parents had died and again when news of her sister had reached her. It ran through her body and consumed all her senses until she was drowning in it.
She lost track of time, but when she finally came back to her own body the forest light had almost disappeared. Her eyes felt raw and her entire body ached, from her bones to her skin. As she blinked her face cracked and her hand floated up to her cheek. The tears she'd cried had frozen to her skin. She dropped her hand and looked around, only really seeing her surroundings for the first time now. She guessed she was inside their line, somewhere between Dog and Easy, but their line was spread so thin that didn't mean much.
She knew she had to get up and move. It would be dark soon and she could die of exposure if she stayed out here on her own. But she was so tired, all she wanted to do was lay down and close her eyes for just a moment. Just one small moment of peace where she wasn't holding her dead friend's head in her lap or killing someone else's friend.
The sound of a twig snapping under a heavy boot shot through her spine. Her muscles flinched and her eyes darted in the direction of the sound but she didn't move. Her brain was filled with a dark fog and her own muscles felt like they weighed a ton. At that moment she didn't care if the sound had come from a friend or Hitler himself, she wasn't moving.
Through the shadows two figures emerged, walking cautiously in her direction. She was almost certain she could make out American uniforms, but her eyes were exhausted and the long shadows of the trees obscured their features.
"Who goes there?" she tried to shout, but it came out barely more than a cracked whisper.
The figures faltered and raised their weapons in the direction of her voice.
"Who's that?" a strong American accent asked.
Her head dropped forward and she drew in a ragged breath. "Sergeant Jones. Easy Company."
The two men lowered their weapons and picked up their pace. When they were close enough for her to make out their faces in the feeble light she watched as their jaws slackened and eyes widen as they took in the scene around them.
"What the hell happened here?" one of them asked, looking between her and the seven bodies sprawled on the ground
His voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She was still trying to figure it out when the other man tentatively crouched down and touched her arm. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts, trying to figure out from where she knew the first soldier that she hadn't even noticed him approaching her.
"Ma'am, are you OK?"
"Yes, yes I'm fine."
The first soldier held out his canteen to her and suddenly she was transported back to a smoky pub in Aldbourne. "Tom?"
A small smile tugged at the man's lips. "You remember. Didn't think you would."
"It was a good night. And you bought me a drink for beating your friend."
"Friend is one way of putting it."
"I gathered."
"This is Markus," he jerked is thumb in the direction of the other, shorter soldier. "What happened here?"
"Germans walked through our line. We were on our way back. We surprised them."
"We?" Markus asked.
Her eyes dropped to Derek's head cradled in her lap. "We."
Both men looked down as if they were seeing him for the first time.
"We gotta get back. We were sent to check the line and be back by nightfall. You should come with us ma'am. We can get you to Easy after that," Tom said.
"How far is it? To Dog," she clarified.
"Not too far," he replied.
"One of you will have to help me carry him."
"Ummm…." Markus said, but Tom stopped him. "Of course. We can't leave him out here for the Krauts to find."
She shot him an appreciative smile. There was no way she was going to leave Derek's body out here to be stripped and forgotten.
"You each start searching the Germans for any papers or supplies. I'll start on this side," she jerked her head in the direction of the closets fallen soldier.
She gently lifted Derek's head from her lap and placed it down on the cold snow. With a groan she pushed herself to her feet, her legs cramping and complaining.
Markus was already searching one of the soldiers, but Tom watched her carefully. She couldn't blame him, she could only imagine what she looked like, covered in blood and tears. Once she was steady on her feet she held his gaze and without another word he turned to start his own search. Minutes later they had searched all the dead soldiers and gathered what information and supplies they could.
"Ma'am, you got ammo?" Tom asked.
"If I had, Derek wouldn't be dead," she snapped and immediately felt guilty for biting the poor guy's head-off.
"Here," he handed her two loose bullets. "We'll carry the body while you take lead."
She popped one bullet into the chamber and placed the second one in her breast pocket as the men lifted Derek, the one taking his feet while the other grabbed him under his shoulders.
Taking the lead, she led the way in the general direction of the Dog foxholes. None of them said anything during the long walk. In truth the foxholes weren't that far away, but the snow, dark and heavy weight of the dead body made the going painfully slow.
Her eyes traced the edge of a foxhole a few feet ahead of them. She signaled for them to stop and they carefully laid the body down.
"Fetch an officer. I'll wait here," she ordered.
"Mark, fetch Speirs. I'll wait with the sergeant," Tom ordered and Markus jogged off into the dark.
Her eyes fell to Derek's face. He looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping, that she almost forgot he was dead. But then her eyes travelled down his body to his blood soaked chest and she had to swallow down the bile that was pushing up her throat.
"Amelia," she tore her eyes away from the blood to find Speirs standing an arm's length away from her.
Aware of his men watching them she addressed him formally, "Lieutenant Speirs."
"I've called a jeep. They'll take the body back to Bastogne."
"Thank you, sir."
His piercing eyes moved from her to the prone body at her feet and then back to her tear stained face.
"We'll give you a moment," he said as he turned his back to give her some privacy.
The other two soldiers followed his lead and she silently thanked him for the gesture.
She sank to her knees beside Derek's body, clenching her hands in her lap.
She took a deep breath and exhaled sharply as she braced herself. Reaching over she ran her hands over his body, expertly finding each pocket and hidden compartment where he kept some of his most valuable belongings.
She heard a jeep approach just as she finished her search. The head lights were off, they couldn't risk giving the Germans a target to hit, but the men who drove the roads between the front and the town knew the routes off by heart by now so it didn't matter.
She bent over and placed one final kiss on his forehead before whispering into his ear, "I love you."
Rising to her feet she cleared her throat to signal to the waiting men that she was done.
Markus and Tom reached past her and were just about to lift him onto the gurney when she stopped them. "Wait. We need to take off his boots."
"What?" Speirs asked and all three men stared at her like she'd gone mad.
"Toye, one of the soldiers. He lost his boots and they're the same size."
Markus bent down to untie the boots as she felt a strong hand on the small of her back. Glancing over her shoulder she found Speirs looking down at her. A mixture of sadness and admiration written all over his face for a split second before his usual hard mask slipped back on.
"Here you go ma'am" Markus said and Speirs took the boots from him.
They carried the body to the gurney that was strapped to the bonnet of the jeep where the passenger strapped it down as the driver revved the engine.
She couldn't watch as they drove off into the darkness. She knew what waited in Bastogne. She'd heard the stories of the dead bodies piled up against the church walls.
"I should get back to Easy," she said to no one in particular.
"Not while it's dark. You could get lost," Speirs said.
"They'll be worried."
"They'll survive," he retorted in a way that made it clear he wasn't going to tolerate an argument on the matter. "I'll order you if I have to," he added for good measure.
"Fine. But I need to tell Captain Winters what happened as soon as possible. Battalion HQ should be set up somewhere nearby from what I remember."
"It is. I'll take you there," Speirs relented.
Turning to leave she stopped close to Tom and Markus. "Thank you. You two probably saved my life. Try not to get killed."
They both smirked, but she knew they appreciated her small gesture of gratitude by the way their tired eyes lit up.
"It was our pleasure ma'am. Now we can say we worked with the famous Sergeant Jones. Man the boys are gonna be jealous," Tom said and she couldn't help but smile at his attempt to lighten the somber mood.
"See you boys around," she greeted them as she and Speirs turned in the direction of HQ.
XXXXXXX
Speirs POV
He watched her closely as they walked through the darkness in silence. If it was anyone else he would have tried to be discreet about it, but he was truly worried about the woman walking next to him.
It wasn't that he was worried she would break. Heaven only knows he considered her one of the best and strongest soldiers he'd ever met. To be honest, when he'd first heard a young, beautiful woman was joining them he had his doubts, as all the men had. However, she'd proven every assumption wrong and exceeded all the expectations he ever had of any soldier.
But as strong as she was, the blow she had suffered would break even the most resilient of soldiers. In addition to the emotional trauma, physically she was smaller than any of the men and he was nervous that the strenuous conditions they were working under would take their toll on her faster than on any of them.
She shot him a dubious look which he met head-on.
"I'm sorry." The words sounded empty to his ear, but he couldn't think of anything better to say.
Looking away from him, focusing on every step her feet took, she said, "Don't say sorry. It's not your fault. It's not even the Kraut's fault that pulled the trigger. I mean we were trying to kill him. No, the only men that should be sorry are the asses that started this whole war and the one that sent us on the suicide mission."
"You have my sympathies then. For losing Derek. I know how much he meant to you."
"Thank you."
"You know; Winters can send you away from the line for a few hours. You could go to Bastogne," he ventured.
Her eyes snapped up to his and her mouth set into a hard line. "I don't need to go away from the line for a few hours."
She looked ready for a fight, but he wasn't going to back down easily. "You sure?" he asked tentatively.
It wasn't in his nature to be tentative, he was a bold, strong-willed man known for acting harshly and decisively, but even he knew how incredibly stubborn she could be so it seemed like the best approach.
"Ron, please don't look at me like I'm some wounded puppy. I'm fine."
This time it was his turn to give her a skeptical look.
She let out a huff of air. "Maybe not fine then. Numb and that's good enough."
He couldn't argue with her.
They trudged the rest of the way in silence, he worried about her and she lost in thought, her eyes downcast and face blank, not giving an inch.
Battalion HQ wasn't much to look at. Four poles with a low built wall out of sandbags which came up only a third of the way to the tarp roof. The HQ itself, as to be expected, was empty this time of night.
He lifted the tarp cover of the first foxhole they came across. Peering into the darkness he spied Winters's red hair, the captain's head dropping to one side with his eyes closed.
"Speirs, what are you doing?" Nixon's voice came from behind him.
He straightened out. "Nixon. We need to speak to Winters," he quirked his head in Amelia's general direction.
Nixon's eyes drifted in the direction he'd indicated and his eyes widened in surprise.
"What's going on out here?" came a grumbling from beneath the tarp seconds before Winters' head popped out from underneath it.
"Sir," he greeted Winters.
"What's going on Speirs?" Winters repeated the question, his voice now clear and pointed.
He glanced in her direction.
When no one answered his question, Winters climbed out of the foxhole, coming to stand next to him, cupping his hands around his mouth to warm them.
All three men stared at each other and back at Amelia expectantly.
Stamping her feet and wringing her hands she took a deep breath before answering their question. "Lieutenant Dike ordered Derek and I out to patrol the areas between our line and the German's on a daily basis. Today, on the way back we came across a party of six Germans who had wandered into our lines."
She took a deep breath and no one said anything. He already knew the end to the story, and the other two officers could no doubt guess.
"We intercepted them, but we didn't have sufficient ammunition to shoot all six so close quarter combat was the only choice."
She trailed off, her eyes seeing something far away none of them could.
"Amelia?" Winters nudged her gently.
Her eyes drifted back to look at them. "Sorry. We were able to kill all six, but in the process Derek was shot twice. Chest and stomach. He died in the field."
Nixon rubbed his hand over his face and swore under his breath. Winters took one great step to cross the distance to Amelia, and in a rare show of affection, he enveloped her in a massive hug. Her small frame dwarfed by the tall, muscular captain's.
Nixon touched his arm and asked softly, "The body?"
"Two Dog men found them and helped to carry it back. Called a jeep to take it to Bastogne," he whispered.
Nixon nodded. "Good."
Winters let go of Amelia and stepped aside. He'd half expected to see her eyes wet with tears, but they only looked exhausted beyond comprehension.
"You'll stay here tonight and tomorrow you can go back to Easy. I'll talk to Dike, we can't risk our last sniper, so you'll be moving with the men from now on. Only going on patrols with them." Winters said, but it sounded like an order. He could hear the simmering anger just beneath the surface of the captain's voice.
"Yes, sir," she replied quietly.
"Speirs, thank you." Winters said.
He lifted the tarp and held it open for Amelia to climb into the foxhole.
She took a step towards the entrance, but just before she climbed in she stopped and met his gaze. She didn't say anything; she didn't have to. He understood perfectly the unspoken emotions she was struggling with.
Looking away from him she dipped her head and disappeared into the foxhole, followed moments later by Winters.
Nixon patted his shoulder, "See you 'round Speirs."
"See you around Nixon," he replied and watched as the man also disappeared beneath the tarp.
Walking back to his own line he couldn't help but wonder if any of them were going to make it out of this alive.
XXXXXXXX
Roe POV
He'd spent the better part of the day running from one foxhole to the next. Begging for morphine syrettes, checking on the men, dodging artillery and all around trying not to get killed.
Their supplies had been low coming into the fight, but now that they were cut off and the fog made air supply nearly impossible he barely had anything left to spare.
Stopping by the foxhole Malarkey, Muck and Penkala were sharing the faintest of smiles crossed his lips. The three musketeers, he called them. Well only to himself and Amelia.
They were laughing hysterically as Muck recounted the story of an adventure they had in Aldbourne when they'd first arrived.
"Hey Doc. What brings you here?" Don asked between laughs and all three men looked up at him.
"Any of you seen Em or Lieutenant Smith?" he asked as he crouched down on the rim of the foxhole.
"Since this morning?" Muck asked and he nodded.
The three soldiers shared a quick look before Don replied on everyone's behalf. "Nah. They not back yet?"
"Don't know. I've been looking for them."
"I'm sure they're here somewhere. George has Em's pack and Buck's got Derek's. They should be with them," Penk replied and the other two nodded.
"I'm sure you're right. I'll head that way. Thanks, and stay warm," he ordered as he got up to leave.
"Doc," Don stopped him just as he turned away from them, "if you can't find 'em let us know OK?"
"Yeah."
As he turned away from them he tried to push the fear away that had been gnawing at his mind all day. His grandma would have called it foreshadowing, the fear he'd seen in Amelia's eyes that morning. He just couldn't shake the feeling the something terrible had happened to them.
He spotted a soldier walking between the foxholes and ran towards him. As he got close enough to make out who it was he was relieved to find it was Babe. He and Amelia were close as far as he knew, especially since they'd seemed to set aside whatever differences has cause their earlier rift.
Babe gave a terrible cough and he grimaced at the sound. Everyone was getting sick from being exposed to the freezing conditions, but he didn't have any medication to give them. None the less he still asked the question he already knew the answer to, "Heffron. Hey Heffron, you OK?"
Babe turned to face him and started to pull off his gloves and throw them to the ground as he said, "Gene, what's with the Heffron bullshit, huh?! You know my name. Why don't you use it?"
"Uh, it's Edward right?"
"Edward? Are you kidding me? Only the goddamn nuns call me Edward."
He felt bad for all of one second at the rebuke. He knew the nickname everyone used for Edward was Babe. Hell, in his head he used it himself. But he didn't like using the men's nicknames, he had to keep a distance from them in order to be able to treat them when they were screaming for their mothers and dying.
"Listen, have you seen Amelia? I can't find her or Derek?"
Babe had been about to turn away from him but at the mention of Amelia's name he stopped dead in his tracks and turned his full attention back to him. "No, I thought she was with you. She said you told her to come and find you when she got back."
His heart sank. Running his hand over his tired eyes he took a moment to collect himself before replying. Saying the wrong thing now could cause panic and that would spread like a disease in a place like this.
"I'm sure she's with George. Probably went to get her pack and got stuck there."
Babe didn't really look convinced, or happy. Twisting his gloves between in hands he said, "Maybe. I'll ask around. If I find her, I'll send her your way."
"Thanks. I need to know if you kept your morphine from Holland?"
Babe's concern quickly turned to irritation. "No, you already asked me! Remember?"
As the young soldier stormed away all he could do was mumble, "No, I don't recall," to himself and the snow.
Shaking off the confrontation and the growing dread he ran to another foxhole. A few of the men had extra tarp sheets with them, so some of the foxholes, those ones which were deeper inside their lines, were covered with the thick tarp sheets.
Peering underneath one to see if there was space for him he slipped underneath the cover into the relative warmth of the foxhole.
Smokey and More had lit a gas stove, the cover stopping the light from escaping, and the small flame provided the illusion of heat at least. Smokey was brewing was smelled like coffee while More cleaned his rifle.
"Gordon, you want me?" he asked Smokey.
"Oh yeah, morphine. 3rd Platoon ponied up the contraband," Smokey replied as he handed him a priceless syrette of morphine.
He'd never been so happy to see a little brown packet before in his life.
"You still looking for scissors?"
"Yes, I am."
"Perconte," Smokey said.
"Perconte…" he repeated to himself, trying to remember where last he'd seen the man.
"Doc…." Smokey offered him a tin mug with coffee and he accepted it with stiff fingers.
"Thank you."
"Have you seen Em Doc?" More asked without stopping the work he was doing.
"Not tonight. Why?"
"Heard Luz was asking where she was," Smokey replied on his behalf.
"I'm sure she's around here somewhere. Maybe with Heffron," he lied, but when both men relaxed a fraction at the assurance he knew it had been the right thing to do.
"Oh, and you better check on Joe Toye out in the OP. He's missing something."
He took a moment to savor the warmth of the coffee before handing it back to Smokey.
"Thanks," he said and seconds later he was running out in the cold towards another foxhole.
After his short visit with Smokey and More it took him the better part of an hour to get back to his own foxhole. He checked in on all the men he passed, asking for morphine and making sure they were still alright. He also took some scissors from Perconte so all in all it had been a pretty successful trip all things considered.
He'd just about reached his own foxhole when he'd run into Bill. Even before he could ask him if he'd seen Amelia the Philadelphian asked him the same question.
"I'm sure she's here somewhere. Don't worry," he'd told Bill the same lie he'd told all the other men who'd asked the same question.
Unlike all the other men though, Bill hadn't looked convinced when he'd turned to leave. He couldn't blame him. The lie was starting to sound hollow even to his own ears.
Finally, alone in his own foxhole a pang of disappointment hit his stomach when he found it empty. A part of him had hoped that he would find Amelia there, waiting for him with a smile and a wise-ass remark about how a gentleman shouldn't keep a lady waiting.
Before his exhausted body and mind descended into a dreamless sleep he said a prayer that she and Derek were holed up somewhere safe. That tomorrow morning, he wouldn't have to face all the men when they realized she wasn't here, maybe never would be again.
XXXXXXX
I don't know if I should say "I hope you enjoyed the chapter" considering what happened...but I do hope it was a good read, even if (hopefully) it was a sad one. I noticed this was one of my longest, if not the longest, chapter. To be honest I don't plan the length of the chapters beforehand. I just write until it feels like a natural end to that small portion of the story. That's why some chapters are short and others are longer...just in case you ever wondered. Anyway, as always, thank you so so so very much for all the support. It really means a lot. Hope everyone has a good Friday and lovely weekend.