Disclaimer: all the usual apply
Chapter 30
Amelia POV
With her pack slung over her one shoulder and her rifle over the other she quickly walked through the muddy street towards the building 2nd Platoon was occupying as an outpost. The building was right on the bank of the river separating the American and German sides. Glancing around the street she could see the evidence of intermittent mortar and artillery shellings the Germans sent across the river.
A few soldiers were heading in the opposite direction, keeping close to the side of the buildings, but mostly this part of the town was quiet.
Reaching her destination, she walked through what was left of the front door and listened intently, trying to hear where the men were.
She heard muffled voices above her head so started up the stairs to the first floor. The inside of this building was even more deteriorated than that of the Easy CP she'd been in. Everywhere there was evidence of fighting, from the bullet holes in the walls to the rubble crunching underneath her boots.
"Hey boys," she greeted the men as she entered the room they were all congregating in.
Most of the men were gathered near the door, sitting or leaning against a pair of bunk beds. She spotted Malarkey talking with Lieutenant Jones as he brewed some coffee in the middle of the room.
"Em, everything OK?" Joe asked.
She frowned in confusion for a moment until realization dawned on her. "Oh yeah, all good. Winters wants me to set up shop in a building of my choice and watch the Germans. Kill any officers if I see them."
"You going out alone?" Grant asked from where he was leaning against the side of the one bed.
"Yip. I'll be on our side of the river so it's safe," she answered as she took a step into the room and sat down next to Babe so their bodies touched.
Babe briefly glanced at her and she could tell something was weighing on his mind from the way his lips were pursed into a thin line.
"So, I take it you heard about the patrol?" she asked the group, but her eyes remained on Babe.
With a smirk Joe answered, "Yeah, Webster here told us."
She glanced over to Webster and then around the room to the other men. All their shoulders were slumped forward while their eyes were downcast and exhausted.
Malarkey and Jones joined the group and Malarkey handed her a half-smoked cigarette as he said, "The lieutenant told us Winters and Speirs ordered you to stay here. Before you go arguing with them, trying to get them to send you on this patrol, we talked about it and we're all happy you're not going."
She dropped her eyes to stare intently at her boots as she chewed on her bottom lip.
"Aw, shit. You already convinced them to send you didn't you?" Babe exclaimed and his comment was met with a chorus of groans.
"Fuck Amelia, every guy here wants to sit this one out and you're trying to get in," Joe swore, shoving the top bunk's mattress in frustration.
"Oh, calm down. There's no need for everyone to get their panties in a twist. Yes, I tried to argue that I should go but both Winters and Speirs firmly shot me down. So I'm staying safe and sound on this side of the river tonight."
She felt the men around her relax as Babe said, "Good to see someone still has some common sense."
She rolled her eyes and took a final drag of the cigarette.
"Anyway," Malarkey started, "they've set up warm showers. So let's go."
Just as the last word left his lips she heard the familiar high pitched keen of a shell coming their way.
She scrambled to her feet, following Joe through the doorway and down the stairs into the basement as the thud of artillery fire landing close by pounded in her ears.
As soon as she reached the basement Babe, who was right behind her, grabbed her hand and pulled her under a large table, just as a shell hit nearby raining dust and plaster down all around them.
There were a few beats of tense silence. Then those of them who had survived worse in the last month burst out laughing, her own hysterical giggle mingling with the chorus of gruff male laughter.
She saw Jones and Webster huddled under a table, wide eyes staring at the laughing soldiers around them in disbelief.
"OK, let's get to the showers," Joe said and everyone got up from the floor and started for the steps that led outside.
"You coming?" Babe asked her just as Malarkey and Joe stopped beside them.
"Nope. I'm going to head out. Some of the officers arranged a shower for me later."
"Be safe," Malarkey said, the strain of the last few weeks clearly visible in his drawn features.
She tried to give him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease some of the worry from his mind.
Joe squeezed her shoulder, wordlessly saying what Malarkey had, before leaving her and Babe alone.
"You should go," she said unconvincingly.
He took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "Please stay away from this patrol and don't take any risks out there."
She closed the small space between them, placing a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. "I think I'm going to miss the stubble," she whispered against his ear.
His free hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body flush against his. She could feel his heart beating through his chest as hers raced to keep up.
He slipped his hand out of hers and hooked his finger underneath her chin, lifting her lips to meet his. The kiss was urgent, his lips demanding more of hers as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hand moved to intertwine with her hair.
"Hey Babe, c'mon will ya?" Joe screamed from outside.
He groaned as she reluctantly pushed against his chest and parted their lips.
"Go," she whispered, playfully pushing him away.
He pouted, looking utterly adorable and she couldn't help but grab his hand to tug him closer so she could steal one more hard kiss.
Breaking the kiss, she laughed at his surprised expression.
He shook his head, "Man, I can't wait to get you all to myself."
"Then we both have something to look forward to."
She watched as a devilish grin tugged at this lips and a deep chuckle escaped his chest as he turned to leave.
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She'd found an abandoned, three story home which stood at the edge of the riverbank. Parts of the roof was missing, from an artillery hit no doubt, along with most of the windows. She'd cautiously maneuvered her way up the broken stairs to the third floor. Once there she'd found a table which was the same height as the bottom of a window overlooking the German side.
She'd dragged the table so it stood a foot or so away from the window, the gloomy interior obscuring it from prying eyes. Lying flat on the table she'd rested her rifle against her cheek and peered through the scope, content to patiently wait for her target to come to her.
Hours passed, none of them eventful. Some enemy soldiers had wondered into her sights, but they weren't officers so she couldn't take a shot. She made notes of everything she observed. Movements of men and guns and even the lack thereof in certain instances.
On more than one occasion she caught her sights wandering to the building Easy was set to assault that evening. She could make out movement inside, which at the very least meant that portion of the intelligence was accurate, but it did little to soothe her nerves. It was a senseless patrol, and everyone knew it. The Germans were all but beaten, and no one of actual importance was going to be in that outpost.
She clenched her jaw, took a deep breath and forced her eyes away from the building and back to her chosen line of sight. Taking a few more deep breaths she forced tension from her shoulders, emptied her mind and slowed her heart rate.
As the sun started its slow descent, enemy soldiers casually sauntered out of a building to her right and continued across her line of sight. Peering intently through her scope she scanned their uniforms for any identifying insignia. When she saw the familiar German insignia identifying both men as officers, she leveled her crosshairs over the first man's chest.
Filling her lungs, she slowly exhaled. When her lungs were emptied and the man was in the perfect position she tightened her finger around the cold metal of the trigger, savoring the kick of the gun as the German was thrown backwards.
The second man dropped down next to his compatriot. She caught a glimpse of his helmet as he leopard crawled towards the safety of the nearest building. Taking aim as best she could, she released a bullet at his head, but was disappointed when his grey helmet popped up a foot later before disappearing out of her sight again.
She was so engrossed with her search for the German that she never heard the familiar whistle of artillery heading for her, but when the building trembled as the explosion went off near its base her breath hitched and she could feel her heart climb into her throat.
She knew the next round wouldn't miss. The Germans had this building in their sights and they weren't going to be happy until it was gone.
Just as she made to press herself off of the table, a German figure popped up and started to run for the door of the nearest building. Laying back down she narrowed her sights onto his retreating back and pulled the trigger, watching him go flying forward as if an invisible hand had shoved him down. She waited a beat to see if he got up. He never did.
This time she heard the rounds coming for her. Rolling off of the table she sprinted for the stairs, throwing caution to the wind as she jumped and fell down them desperate to get out before the building came down around her. Just as her feet touched the second floor a thunderous explosion went off above her head, showering her in a choking cloud of dust and concrete which almost blocked out the light.
Staggering, she fell over her own feet in the direction of the staircase. Stumbling down the stairs, she held onto the wall for support as another shell hit the building. She narrowly dodged a brick that came hurtling at her head, barely keeping her feet as she rounded the corner to take the final stairs to the ground floor and safety.
The quiet that followed the two hits was even more deafening that the explosions. She could hear the building groaning even through the ringing in her ears.
Just as her feet touched the broken tiled floor another explosion hit the building. The air around her was instantaneously filled with a cloud of dust so thick she couldn't see her own hands in-front of her face. The only thing guiding her to safety was the dim glow of the sunlight streaming in through the broken front door. Forcing her feet and her burning lungs on, she scrambled for the door.
Bursting into the late afternoon light she fell forward, her feet haphazardly taking her away from the building. Stopping in the middle of the street she tried to breathe, but found her lungs were chocked up from the dust and debris she'd so frantically inhaled in her panic. Bracing herself with her hands on her knees, she spluttered and coughed as she tried to catch her breath and orientate herself.
"Amelia? What in the hell happened?" a familiar, deep male voice asked.
Lifting her head, and squinting up she found a concerned Nixon looking intently at her, flanked on either side by Dick, Speirs and Colonel Sink.
Fuck, she thought as she dropped her head back down.
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Nixon POV
Colonel Sink had asked to see them so he could be brought up to speed on the planned patrol across the river. The place was swarming with men so they'd walked away from the center of the town, towards the outskirts and some semblance of privacy.
Just as they concluded the briefing the unmistakable pop of a rifle rang out close to their position. Dick grabbed Sink's jacket, almost dragging the Colonel to the safety of an alley, as he and Speirs brought up the rear.
Mere seconds passed when the second shot went off, but this time he realized the sound was traveling away from their side of the river. He glanced at Speirs, seeing the same realization on the other man's face. As one man they straightened out just as Dick slapped his shoulder.
"Must be Amelia," he said, but as soon as he'd spoken the words were obscured by the rumble of an artillery round hitting close by.
They all ducked back down, waiting for the next hit so they could judge the fall of the rounds and decide on the best way out of the situation.
There was one more distinctive clap of a rifle and then all hell seemed to rain down on the building across the street from their hiding place.
At least three rounds must have it the building, each one causing smoke and dust to raise up in a violent cloud.
His heart jumped into his throat and his legs felt like any moment they would give way under him. He knew Amelia was in that building and he was sure they were going to find her lifeless body torn apart by rubble and shrapnel. If they ever found it at all.
He nearly shouted obscenities in relief when a small figure stumbled out of the doorway in a thick plume of smoke and dust. He watched as she stumbled onto the middle of the road, bending over and coughing violently.
Speirs was the first one to move, his steely gaze zoning in on the spluttering woman. He followed him like a shadow and he sensed Dick and Sink hot on his heels.
"Amelia? What in the hell happened?" he asked, barely stopping himself short of enveloping her in an embrace.
She lifted her head and squinted up at them. She was covered in such a thick layer of grey dust that the whites of her eyes looked ghostly, or the little bit that wasn't bloodshot did.
She dropped her head back down and he saw her take a deep breath before straightening out. "Sirs, I was observing the German held side of the river. When I saw two officers I took aim at the targets and successfully killed them."
They all waited for Sink to speak first, but he could already see Dick preparing his reprimand.
Sink pursed his lips and glanced over her head at the destroyed building. "Is it safe to assume your late exit from the building was because you insisted on killing the second officer?"
With a firm nod she replied simply, "Yes, sir."
"Well, you always were stubborn sergeant," Sink said, a faint smile on his lips.
"I've been told it's one of my best and worst qualities, sir."
"No doubt," Sink replied before looking away from her and saying to Dick, "I look forward to your report back on the patrol Dick. Get it done."
"Yes, sir," Dick said.
Sink briefly nodded in greeting to all of them. Taking one last look at Amelia the Colonel chuckled softly as he walked away.
As soon as Sink's back was turned Amelia's shoulder relaxed and she took out her canteen. Rinsing her mouth before taking a long drink she resolutely avoided making eye contact with any of them.
"I'm pretty sure I told you to only take one shot and then get out before the Germans could target you with their artillery," Dick said through gritted teeth.
After a small cough she responded, "I knew I could get both. I just needed enough time."
"Yes, and clearly you had more than enough," he retorted angrily.
"Fair enough, this was a closer call than I would have liked, but all's well that ends well, right?"
He pulled out his canteen and took long swig of the bitter liquor to calm his temper. He held it out to her but she waved it off. He noticed her hand was shaking, a small tremble but all three of them were astute enough to notice it.
Fuck, how close had that call been?
Dick took a deep breath and in a considerably calmer voice asked, "Are you hurt?"
She took a moment to reply, but in the end she answered the question with a small shake of her head, sending a little bit of dust flying into the air.
Dick studied her and he knew his friend was deciding whether or not she was telling the truth. Soldiers often lied about their injuries and she was by far no exception.
Dick glanced at Speirs who shrugged before he turned to share a knowing look with him. He took another drink and clipped his flask back to his belt.
With his mind made up, Dick said, "It's almost 16:00. Drop your things at OP 2 and head to the CP. There's a private waiting to show you to your shower. He'll have a clean uniform for you."
"Thank you Dick," she said, her voice sounding smaller than usual.
Her eyes briefly fell onto Speirs, unreadable dark eyes meeting unapologetic green ones. Looking away from Speirs she gave Dick a tired little smile before meeting his eyes. Her smile faltered and for a second the mask slipped from her face. For one brief moment she wasn't an accomplished soldier, but a shaken and exhausted woman who'd been pushed to her limits and beyond. But just as quickly as it has slipped the mask fell back into place as she walked away from them.
They watched her in silence for a few moments.
"I've never seen her tremble before. Not like that," he said to no one in particular.
Turning to face the other two officers he continued, "She was always going to go for the second officer. No matter what you ordered."
"She never gives up does she?" Speirs said, frustration and admiration evident in his tone.
"Let's hope not," he replied, the look on her face replaying in his mind's eyes and making his stomach twist anxiously.
"Let's hope it doesn't get her killed," Dick said and an ominous silence hung over the group.
He slapped his friends shoulder. "Nah, she's too stubborn to die."
Dick's lips twitched for a second into the start of a smile, but his eyes remained clouded.
Speirs lit a cigarette, took a long, steady drag and on the exhale said, "Luckily she isn't going on this patrol."
"Small mercies," he retorted.
Without a further word Dick started back to the main part of town and he fell into step next to him as Speirs walked just behind them.
He made a mental note to check in on Amelia as soon as he could without raising suspicion. He needed to be sure she really was OK, as much for her own wellbeing as for his peace of mind.
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Amelia POV
Walking up to OP 2 she hoped all the men were still at the showers, but this hope was quickly dashed when the distinct smell of soap and cigarettes hit her nose, followed by the deep chorus of men talking in small groups.
She stopped just outside the door and took a deep breath, which she instantly regretted doing because it brought about an intense coughing fit, causing her to double over as she frantically tried to catch her breath.
Finally, after a few minutes, she'd regained control and made a mental note not to take any deep breaths around the men in the immediate future.
Shaking her shoulders and her head to clear her thoughts she stepped over the threshold into the main room. Some of the men were playing cards, while others cleaned their weapons, lazily sitting back and talking. They were all clean, the dirt and grime of the last month washed away.
She crossed the room, heading for the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, her eyes firmly fixed on her destination. She'd have to clean her rifle this evening, sure dust had gotten into every nook and cranny of the gun, but for now she was going to stow it away safely before heading to the CP.
"Ummmm….what in the name of all things holy happened to you?" Johnny exclaimed and she felt all eyes turn to look at her as a hush descended over the room.
So much for that.
She slowly turned to face the room. "Well Johnny, a building and some artillery is what happened."
Babe got up from his seat on the other side of the room and strode over to her, closing the distance in a few purposeful strides. As he stopped directly in-front of her, he carefully eyed her up and down, his brow furrowed and lips pursed.
"Did the building fall on you?" he asked once he'd completed his quick examination.
"Not the entire building."
"Jesus Amelia," Johnny cursed as he moved in next to Babe. He was quickly joined by Joe, Bull and Gene.
"Are you hurt?" Gene asked, his expert eyes roaming her over as he spoke.
Clenching her fists into tight balls at her sides to hide the tremble that wouldn't go away, she replied, "No, I'm completely unhurt. My eyes sting and every now and again I cough a little, but that's it."
Babe's brown eyes fell to her sides. Looking back up he raised an eyebrow in a silent question.
"I'm fine," she answered stubbornly.
"Did you at least get a hit for all your trouble?" Bull asked, lips curved around his ever present cigar.
"Two officers."
Johnny and Bull nodded before returning to their seats. Evidently happy that she really was unhurt.
"I'm heading to Easy CP now, just came to put my rifle down. I can't use it until it's been cleaned anyway, so no point in carrying it around."
"Here," Joe said, holding out his hand to her.
She frowned, looking from his outstretched hand to his dark eyes.
"Mine's already cleaned. I can do this for you while you're gone."
"Oh, Joe, that's not necessary. Really."
"Yeah, well I insist. So stop being difficult."
With a grateful little smile she handed over her rifle. Joe took one look at it and let out a low whistle. "Don't hurry. This is gonna take a while."
She sheepishly smiled. He shot her a playful wink and walked back to his seat, already starting to take the rifle apart as he went.
"I should head out," her voice cracked as she spoke.
Babe furrowed his brow, his own fists now stuffed deep inside his pockets.
Gene eyed her skeptically, but nodded towards the door. "I'll go with ya. Heading that way already."
"Sure."
Gene started for the door, but she hesitated to follow him. Her eyes were locked onto Babe's. She so desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, have him hold her for a moment and kiss the top her head so she knew she really was fine. But she couldn't do that here in a room full of men, just as much as he couldn't pull her closer.
With a shaky exhale, she tore her eyes away from his before all her resolve crumbled, following Gene into the cold late afternoon air.
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Gene POV
He kept stealing glances at Amelia as they made their way over to the Easy CP. There was a strain pulling at her features, making her look older by years and far more fragile than she was. He would like to tell himself that it was because of her narrow escape, but truth be told it had been there since Derek had died, steadily growing every time he saw her.
Of course the last month had taken a heavy toll on all the men. They'd lost friends and parts of themselves, endured hardships no one should. He was worried about most of the soldiers under his care, but he considered Amelia his closest friend, maybe even an adopted sister, and seeing her this worn thin was unsettling his steely nerves.
"Just say whatever's on your mind Gene," she said, briefly glancing over to him.
"You're not fine chérie."
She looked up at the grey sky, shutting her eyes for a second before dropping her eyes to his.
Unshed tears made her dark green eyes swim. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her into a small alley where curious soldiers wouldn't see them.
"Amelia, please talk to me," he begged. He'd seen her hurt and near death more times that he cared to remember, but she always had some spark left in her eyes, even after Derek's death. But looking into them now all he could see two dark pools.
She stared at him, emotions playing between pain and anger, before finally settling on pain. "That building should have killed me Gene. I was three stories up when the Germans started shelling. There was a point where I was choking from all the dust in the air. I couldn't see my own hands and the place was coming down on my head. And yet, here I am."
He stared at her intently, waiting for her to continue.
She swallowed hard and dropped her gaze to their feet. In a voice that was barely above a whisper she finally continued, "I've been so close to dying dozens of times. But I haven't while other men, good men, have."
She lifted her eyes and tears carved muddy pathways down her cheeks, anguish finally winning over. "Derek died! Bill got his leg blown off and the list goes on and on. Not to mention all the men whose lives I've taken. And you know what? I'm grateful that I'm alive, which makes me feel guilty as all hell! And at the same time, I'm so incredibly angry that it almost overshadows everything. Almost but not quite, because I'm petrified that I'm going to lose someone else and I keep waiting for it to be my turn."
"Amelia…," he started, but he didn't know what the right words were to say.
"I just want this all to be over now Gene. I just want to go home," she finished, her voice sounding like a small child's.
Her words broke his heart. He pulled her to him and she buried her face in his chest as he held tightly onto her. There were no hysterics, he could barely feel her breathe, but he felt her cling to him like she was clinging to her sanity.
"I got you," he whispered into her hair.
He felt her nod before she released her hold on him and took a step back. Hastily rubbing the evidence of the tears from her cheeks she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When they opened again they were perfectly placid.
"I need to get going. I don't want to keep anyone waiting."
"Yeah, c'mon," he reluctantly said as he led the way to the Easy CP.
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Amelia POV
The warm water splashed onto her shoulders, working the knots out with every drop. She tilted her head back, allowing the water to spill down her face. She allowed the warm water to wash away weeks of hardship and pain, every drop carrying with it some awful memory she'd rather forget. Slowly but surely the water at her feet went from a deep brown, almost black color to grey and then clear.
Only once the water ran clear did she use the standard issue army soap she'd been provided to wash her body, face and hair. She would have loved to be able to shave, and use some lovely soaps and oils, but this was the cleanest and warmest she'd felt in forever and she wasn't going to complain.
Stepping out of the shower she quickly dried herself and wrapped the dark green towel around her chest. Rubbing her hand across the bathroom mirror to wipe away some of the steam, she stared intently at her own reflection.
She had dark, puffy circles under her eyes and she looked older than she was, her skin shallow and drawn taught. Her features were sharper, jutting out and making her eyes look almost unnaturally big, a symptom of the weight she'd lost over the last months.
When did I turn into a vampire? Looks like I've never seen the sun in my entire life? she thought, turning her face side to side to get a better look.
With a sigh she turned away from the mirror and quickly stepped into the clean uniform that had been provided to her, using the towel to dry her long hair as best she could. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to untangle the worst of it, before leaving it down to dry.
Fully dressed and clean, she rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath. She hadn't planned to tell anyone about her feelings. Not here and now where they were all dealing with their own demons while trying to make it out alive. But after unburdening herself to Gene, and the warm shower, she felt oddly at peace. She was tired, exhausted really, and her body and soul hurt all over, but she was also calm for the first time in a long time.
Exiting the bathroom, she was greeted by a friendly orderly, the same one that had shown her where to go.
He smiled politely. "You can give those to me ma'am," he said, holding out his hands for her fifthly clothes and wet towel.
She smiled and handed them over. More than happy to never see those clothes again. "Thank you, private."
He nodded politely and disappeared down the flight of stairs leading to the ground floor. She followed in his footsteps a second later.
Walking down the hallway towards the room she'd stood in that morning, she glanced to her left when she heard men's voices.
The fifteen men who'd been picked for the patrol were all assembled in what looked like a dining room. Dick was addressing them, Johnny and Lieutenant Jones standing by close by. The men were all sitting around the table, most of them, including Babe and Grant, had their feet casually placed on the table.
Babe caught her eye making her self-consciously run her hand through her damp hair as a whisper of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
He gave her wink before returning his attention to Johnny who had started to speak.
Moving past them she turned into the room with the piano. It was oddly void of people, with haphazardly stacked boxes shoved up against a corner the only sign that it was currently being used.
She walked over to the piano, hesitating when she reached it.
Slowly pulling out the bench she took a seat and opened the piano's lid, tentatively running her fingers over the keys. Closing her eyes her mind drifted back to the last winter she'd spent with her family. She could almost feel the warmth of the fireplace on her cheeks and hear the soft murmurs of her parent's quiet conversation as it intermingled with the casual sound of her sister lazily flipping the pages of a magazine.
"Mamma," she'd said like she had a thousand times before.
Her parent's conversation had paused as they'd turned to look over to her adoringly. "Yes Amelia?"
"Which song would you like to hear?" she'd asked, fingers lazily stroking the piano's keys.
A soft smile had graced her mother's beautiful face. "Music comes from the heart my darling. So you must play what is in your heart."
With her mother's words sounding in her ears like she was there in the room with her, she allowed her fingers to skim over the keys until they found the ones they were looking for.
With one slow stroke the first eerie note of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata curled around the broken room. Each subsequent stroke flowed from her fingers, expressing feelings and fears she could never adequately put into words. Reminding her of better times while soothing the wounds left by terrible ones.
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Nixon POV
He was deep in conversation with Speirs and Lipton when he heard the first haunting note. Their conversation immediately stilled, all three of them looking around, unsure of where the out-of-place sound had come from.
The melody continued to flow and he was the first to break away from the group, inexplicably drawn to the sound.
Rounding the corner, he stopped in the large doorway, his breath hitching a fraction. Amelia was playing the piano, her eyes closed and body ever so gently swaying to the music as if it flowed out of her soul to her fingertips.
Speirs and Lipton moved past him, treading quietly, they perched on the sofa near the entry way.
He felt a hand resting on his shoulder and he knew it belonged to his best friend. Without looking away from Amelia, he whispered the answer to the unspoken question, "Beethoven."
Movement across the room pulled his eyes away from the woman. The men had finished their briefing, and the sound of the melody had drawn them to the room. Babe and Joe softly entered and lent against a wall, their eyes intently focused on Amelia's face and hands, dancing between the two.
Johnny, Grant and Webster quietly moved past them while the rest of the men stood in the doorway.
He glanced back to Amelia. Either she didn't know they were there or she didn't mind, because her eyes never opened and her hands didn't falter.
Looking back to the men he studied their faces. Each one was as unique as the man it belonged to, but they all held a sense of wonder and profound sadness, emotions that so perfectly mirrored the feelings flowing from Amelia's fingers.
The music stopped, the last note drawn out as her hands rested on the keys. A silence hung in the room, no one daring to move or breathe lest they break the magic spell that hung over them in that moment.
Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and as if they were drawn to him by an invisible golden string she turned her head to look at Babe. His eyes were brimming with adoration and pride, but to his credit he didn't move to close the gap between them. Rather settling for a small nod and a quirk of his lips.
Shifty cleared his throat and everyone turned to him, including Amelia. "Well, I don't know whose song that is, but that was something perfect."
The rest of the men nodded, sharing his sentiment. One by one they filtered out of the room, until only Joe and Babe were left with the officers.
Joe walked over to Amelia and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. He bent down and whispered something in her ear only she could hear. She smiled sweetly up at him. He placed a kiss on-top of her head before leaving the room, slapping Babe's shoulder on the way out.
Babe smiled once more at her, their eyes holding their own private conversation none of them would ever be privy to, before he followed Joe out the door.
He took a step towards her, her head moving in his direction. "I didn't know you could play," was all he could thing of saying.
He'd grown up with the classics, some he loved and others he loathed, but he'd never enjoyed Beethoven as much as he had in that war torn building.
"I wasn't sure I would remember how. I haven't played in a very long time."
He nodded, wondering for a second what a pre-war Amelia was like.
"I should get going. I don't want to keep anyone out of their work," she said, gently closing the lid.
"That really was beautiful Amelia," Dick repeated Shifty's sentiment.
She dropped her eyes to the floor, a shy smile on her lips and color returning to her cheeks. Looking back up at the officers she replied simply, "Thank you."
With a farewell nod to all of them she strode out of the room and suddenly there was only silence.
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I'll be honest, I'm not a classical music expert by any stretch of the imagination! But I was listening to Classic Radio (don't ask..hahahaha) and when this Beethoven song came on it stopped me dead in my tracks. Music is such a personal experience and everyone takes something else from a great song, for me this song, especially the first section, is just so haunting, heartbreaking and beautiful and I felt it would fit perfectly here.
Hope you all had an amazing week and a wonderful weekend to look forward to!