Disclaimers: all the usual apply.
Chapter 31
Amelia POV
She walked to 2nd Platoon's billet slowly, extending each step as if doing so could delay the patrol. The knot in her stomach made her feel sick, and every time she looked towards the river her throat constricted as she bit back her own nagging doubts. She wasn't used to being left behind, and she didn't like it.
Taking a deep breath and forcefully blowing out the air she briefly squeezed her eyes closed, trying her best to relax a fraction. She failed miserably however because the moment her eyes dropped Babe's handsome face flashed before her. Her eyes snapped back open and she cussed under her breath. She felt completely overwhelmed at the thought of him not coming back to her. That this was it. This would be their end in some nondescript town in France, fighting an enemy that was already beaten. Logically she knew he was going to be surrounded by good men, but she felt so helpless it ate away at her already frayed nerves.
I wonder if the women back home feel like this all the time?
Reaching the door of OP 2 she tried to push the thought aside and plaster on a calm face. The last thing the men needed was to see her worried.
Those that were going on the patrol were all busy blackening their equipment, ensuring nothing shone or jangled. Malarkey was busy making some food, the smell permeating the entire room along with the familiar scent of cigarette smoke. The room was quiet, a tense hush hanging over everyone.
She grabbed an empty chair and dragged it so she could sit next to Babe. When she sat down his hands stilled as his head turned towards her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his expression concerned.
She smiled softly. "Clean."
He returned her smile. "Yeah, almost forgot what it feels like, but that's not what I meant."
Her eyes dropped to their shoes. Leaning closer to him she replied in a hushed tone, "I'll live. I'm just tired and I'm tired of being tired. I'm ready for this war to end now."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Pulling away slightly, he whispered, "I'll be fine. You'll see, before you know it we'll be going home."
At the mention of home, she smiled before a sudden flood of anxiety and dread brought tears to her eyes. She immediately shut them, taking a deep breath to stop them from falling.
She'd never had this reaction before, she'd always had friends, men she loved, go on missions with or without her and not once did she have the overwhelming urge to cry. But thinking back on all those times she'd always assumed she wasn't going to make it out alive, so she hadn't had much to lose. Now she had the man she loved and the life they could have hanging in the balance of every bullet.
For a split second she regretted getting involved with Babe, but as soon as the feeling came she rubbished it away. All these men were her brothers, losing any one of them would hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, Babe was just a more painful loss.
Her emotions back under control she opened her eyes to find Babe watching her intently. She smiled reassuringly at him and his features relaxed a fraction.
With a pat to his knee she stood up, scanning to the room for Malarkey and quickly finding him. "Hey Don, you need some help?"
"Thanks beautiful. Can you make some coffee?" Malarkey said, his one hand stirring something that almost smelled edible.
She quickly glanced down at Babe, whose eyes and hands were firmly fixed on blackening the barrel of his gun.
Watching him she realized that as much as she hated having to stay behind, he was probably relieved she'd be safe and sound in their side of the river.
With a small sigh she crossed the room to join Malarkey at the fire. She made a big pot of coffee as she and Malarkey spoke quietly, careful not to disturb the men going on patrol.
Coffee done, she walked around the room, filling the men's mugs. Some looked up and gave her small grateful smiles, while others never pulled their eyes away from their work, grateful for something to keep their hands and minds busy.
Reaching Joe, she filled his mug, but raised a surprised eyebrow when she saw he wasn't preparing for the patrol, instead choosing to shuffle a deck of cards repeatedly as he leaned against a wall.
He must have read her mind, because he answered her unspoken question, "Webster offered to go in my place. We both speak a bit of German; they don't need both of us."
She glanced over to a nervous looking Webster who briefly looked her way when he heard his name.
Looking back to Joe she replied, "Good. I'm glad you get to sit this one out."
"Yeah, I'll provide covering fire from this side."
She nodded, relieved.
He winked at her before turning his attention to the warm coffee. She walked over to Web and Lieutenant Jones and was once again surprised to find the young lieutenant was nervously getting ready to go on the patrol.
"Some coffee lieutenant?"
He glanced up in surprise. "Oh, ummm…."
"The best advice I ever got was to never pass up hot chow or fresh water. I like to think coffee falls under both," she said, a reassuring smile on her face, hoping to put him at ease.
It seemed to work because his shoulders relaxed and he held out his mug to her.
Filling it she quickly scanned over his gear, trying to spot anything that might give him away on the patrol.
"Last time I heard you weren't going on the patrol?" she said to Jones.
"I'm going along as an observer. Sergeant Martin's leading the patrol," Jones answered.
"I see. Well, Johnny's excellent. You're in good hands. Just keep your head down, listen to Johnny and your training and you'll be just fine."
"Thank you," the young lieutenant said, almost visibly relieved.
"That's a beautiful ring," she said, using her free hand to point to the large ring on his right hand.
He glanced down at it, nervously turning it around and around. "My class ring."
"Just string it onto your dog tags and tape them together. You don't want anything shining or jingling tonight."
He immediately removed his ring, shooting her a grateful ghost of a smile.
"Here you go Web," she said, looking away from Jones to Webster as she held out the coffee for him.
He looked up and seemed even more surprised than Jones did that she was offering him coffee.
Can't blame the guy, she thought.
As he held out his mug he said, "Thanks Amelia."
"No problem Web. You keep your head down tonight, OK?"
"Sure."
Her coffee now finished she turned away from Webster and walked back to Malarkey's side. She glanced down at the steaming pot he was stirring and wrinkled up her nose involuntarily as the smell met her.
"Don, do I want to know what that is?"
He lifted the pot and smelled its content. "Probably not. You don't gotta eat it."
"Are you kidding me? It's warm and cooked. There's not a chance in hell that I'm passing it up," she retorted, holding out her tin mug for emphasis.
He shot her a crooked smile and ladled in some of the gruel. She sat down on the edge of the large wooden table, spooning warm food into her mouth and she studied the men.
She'd just given Jones the advice to never pass up warm food, but every bite felt like led in her stomach as she forced it down. Grateful when her spoon came up empty she quickly cleaned her mug before stowing it away.
"Hey Em," Johnny's voice sounded behind her and she turned to face him.
"If we make it out of this mess alive, you gotta play another song for us. Something more upbeat though."
"Johnny, darling, they day the German army surrenders, you find me a piano and I'll play you whatever you wanna hear."
His lips turned up into a half-smile.
"Where'd you learn?" Webster asked tentatively.
"Oh, well. My mother sent us for lessons when we were young, just like she'd gone. I just fell in love with it so I never really stopped. I guess if I ever have a daughter I'd want her to learn too."
"Can you imagine," Joe said coming to stand next to her, "a little Amelia. Fuck, she'd raise all kinds of hell if she's anything like you."
She feigned shock and slapped him hard on his chest. "Excuse me! I'll have you know I was a very obedient, well behaved child."
"Oh, so it's only later in life you became this feisty," Malarkey chipped in and she was glad to see him smile and joke for the first time in weeks.
"Oh please, you all find it adorable and you know it."
The men chuckled a small chorus of good natured, "yeah-yeah's," filling the room.
Joe leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Babe'll have his hands full. With you and mini-Amelia. I almost feel sorry for the guy."
She nudged him playfully in the ribs and he pretended to be injured, rubbing them for affect.
"I'm going to lay down upstairs. Call me if anyone needs anything," she said to Joe once he'd calmed down.
"Sure thing."
She left the room behind and ascended the stairs. Entering the bedroom she'd been in that morning, she climbed into one of the bottom bunk beds, turning her back to the door as she curled into a small ball and almost instantly descended into the best sleep she'd had in weeks.
XXXXXXX
Babe POV
He'd done all the preparation he could and smoked half a pack of cigarettes by the time it was dark.
When he'd heard Amelia wasn't going on the patrol he'd been surprised, but a split second later relief took its place. He already dreaded the patrol, he couldn't even begin to imagine how he would have felt if she was going with them.
Walking up to Joe, who was loitering at the bottom of the stairs, he asked, "You seen Em?"
"She should be upstairs still. C'mon," Joe answered, jerking his head in the direction of the stairs before starting up them.
He followed him up the darkening staircase with a crooked smile when he thought of the turn of events. When he'd joined Easy Joe and Amelia were a moment away from starting a relationship, and here he was, neck deep in-love with her while Joe had become a close friend to both of them.
As they stepped into the room he noticed someone had lit a lantern in the middle of the space. He scanned the room and couldn't see Amelia, instead finding Webster and Jackson staring out across the river.
"Hey," Joe called, "you guys see Em?"
Jackson held a finger to his lips and pointed to one of the bunk beds with his other hand. Bending down he saw a small shape, curled in on itself, sleeping soundly.
"Hey, you know what. I think I heard Johnny looking for everyone going on the patrol. You two should head down," Joe lied.
Both men grabbed their kit and quietly shuffled out of the room.
Joe gave him a soft slap on the shoulder and he shot him a grateful smile for the lied he'd told.
Alone in the room he laid down next to her, trying his best not to shift her so she didn't wake up. With a soft, little moan she turned, snuggling in against him as she laid her head on his chest.
Looking down at her he gently tucked a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear before softly running the back of his hand across her cheek.
He'd come to love watching her sleep. All the stress and fatigue melting away and for a short moment she was at peace and it was just the two of them. Try as he might he couldn't imagine his life without her. She'd completely disrupted every plan he'd ever had, and he couldn't bring himself to regret it for a second.
Her eyes fluttered open and a sleepy little smile danced on her lips as she stared up at him.
"Hey," she whispered, her voice still thick with sleep.
"Hey," he replied softly.
She reached up and touched his face, running her fingers across his cheek and all along his jaw. Her touch calmed his nerves while sending shivers of anticipation running up and down his spine.
Fuck, all the things she does to me.
"What?" she asked with the smallest of smiles.
"Nothing. Just thinking 'bout how badly I want you all to myself. Somewhere far away where no one can bother us. Far away from the fight."
Her smile changed into something more devilish and he could feel his heart speed up.
"Oh really? And what do you plan on doing when you have me all to yourself Mr. Heffron?"
Lifting her chin so their lips were only an agonizing inch apart he replied, "I'm going to make you forget every man you've ever known. And I'm going to hear you beg me for more just before you call out my name."
She groaned and reached up, sensually bringing their lips together. His hold on her waist tightened and his fingers intertwined with her hair.
She parted their lips and he moaned in protest. Pushing herself onto her elbows she giggled at his very visible disappointment at the loss of her touch.
"You'd better make it back to me so you can make good on that promise. I have so many things I want to do with you."
He pushed her head back down so their lips met, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he deepened their kiss. She pressed her body hard against his as she threw one leg over his. The hand that was around her waist floated to her leg, grabbing her thigh so hard he was certain he'd left a mark. She groaned into his mouth.
This time he broke the kiss and she protested. He smirked, feeling very smug that he could elicit such a response from her. "The guys are going to come looking for me."
"I don't care," she said breathlessly.
"Well I do."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine. But the next time you start something, you'd best be prepared to finish it. Or I'll do it myself."
As the mental image flashed in-front of his eyes he let out an involuntary groan. She smirked smugly down at him.
"Fuck, you're gonna be the end of me Amelia."
Leaning her head back down so their lips just grazed she whispered, "You have no idea."
Before he could kiss her she pushed herself up and off of the bed.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before getting up.
She looked up at him through her long lashes, her eyes even bigger from this angle.
Holding her around the waist with his one hand he cupped her face with the other, "God, you're beautiful."
She laced her hands behind his neck, gently pulling his face towards hers as she stood on her toes. She placed a lingering kiss on his lips and as she pulled back she whispered, "Come back to me."
XXXXXXX
Amelia POV
She sat on-top of the large wooden table which had been pushed against the furthest wall of the makeshift medical supply room, watching Gene move back and forth as she lazily smoked a cigarette.
"You sure I can't help Gene?" she asked for the tenth time in an hour.
After Babe had gone to join the other men as they waited for the mission to start, she'd left in search of Gene and a distraction.
"Nah, I'm almost done anyway," he waved her off as he started sifting through another wooden crate.
She flicked her cigarette butt to the ground and immediately reached for her pack, taking out another two smokes. Lighting both she handed one to Gene.
"Thanks Em, but ain't this your fourth one in an hour?"
"Maybe, I haven't been keeping count."
With the cigarette hanging from his lips, he inspected the box's content and said, "You know this stuff can kill ya, right?"
"So can a Kraut bullet. I'll take my chances."
He stopped what he was doing and turned his full attention to her. "You're really nervous," he stated matter-of-factly.
After a long drag she replied, "I'm not use to being left behind. I don't really know how to handle it. And to be honest I really don't like it."
He looked down at the floor, a small smile on his lips as he shook his head. Looking back up he said, "You are by far the strangest person I know."
"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."
"You do that," he teased.
He turned back to his work and they fell into an easy silence as she watched him work. Once the last box's content was recorded and packed away Gene walked over and took a seat on the table next to her.
"You think 'bout what you gonna do when the war's over?" he asked.
"Parts of it. I know I need to go see Derek's parents, and after that I'll head to Philly. At some stage I'll need to go to my parents' homes to sort them out. Other than that, I honestly have no idea what I'm going to do. Fighting's all I've known for so long, I don't know if I can do anything else."
He nodded as he mulled over her words. After a few moments he looked over to her, a mischievous glint to his dark eyes. "You gonna marry Babe?"
"Ummm….well…" she stammered as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks.
Gene smiled at her reaction which earned him a playful slap on the arm.
"Do you wanna marry him?"
"Yes," she answered simply, the truth of her confession making her smile and her blush deepen even further.
Gene returned her smile and threw his arm around her shoulders to pull her into a quick hug. "He'll ask ya. Trust me."
"We'll see. But if he does you know you're going to have to walk me down the aisle."
"I'd be honored," Gene replied as they shared a fond moment.
"So what about you?" she asked.
"What about me what?"
"After the war. You got any plans?"
He leaned back on his hands and contemplated her question for a few minute as he stared at the ceiling. Finally, he replied, "I don't ever wanna treat a wounded man again. I know that much."
She looked over her shoulder to him, silently urging him to continue.
"I like working with my hands. So a job that allows me to do that. Maybe a contractor or a builder. Something like that."
"That sounds great Gene. Maybe get married and have some babies."
He smiled, "Yeah, maybe that too."
"You know if you have a girl you're gonna have to call her Amelia. After her favorite auntie."
With a good hearted chuckle, he retorted, "I'll keep that in mind."
A few moments of contemplative silenced passed between them before she said, "Maybe I'll become a teacher."
He sat forward and looked over to her. "You'd make a great teacher Em."
"Can you imagine? Me a teacher and you a contractor, living in peace with our happy families," she mused.
"That's a good dream," he said.
She laid her head on his shoulder and felt him rest his head on-top of hers. They sat like that for a while, each one dreaming of a life after the war which was so close they could almost brush it with their fingertips.
After some time, Gene led the way to the room he was sharing with Spina. There he made them coffee and they talked about this and that. Every so often she would glance down at her watch and when the time came for the patrol to set off she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. Something she hadn't done in a long time and she hoped she wasn't too late.
XXXXXXX
Bursting into OP 2, right on Gene's heels, she faltered in the doorway as she took in the chaotic scene.
Two petrified German prisoners were shoved into the back of the room where Shifty and Popeye guarded them. The men shouted in German, adding to the deafening clamor bouncing off the stone walls of the small room. Lieutenant Jones was doing his best to calm a hysterical soldier down before the man killed one of their prisoners as Webster, Babe and two others tried to calm a bleeding and crying Jackson down so they could help him. The building shook as a German artillery round fell nearby, raining dust down on them as the rumble added to the chaos.
Shaking her head, she ran for Jackson, reaching him just as Gene did, she moved past the men to stand at his head.
"Jackson, darling, listen to me. You have to lie still sweetheart," she hushed as she smoothed over his hair with her one hand while cupping the un-injured side of his face with her other.
He stilled his trashing and Gene started his inspection, his calming presence immediately soothing the entire room as everyone fell into an apprehensive silence.
She kept smoothing his hair and hushing him as Gene looked his wounds over, opening his mouth to see if his airway was blocked considering the blood that was spilling from between his lips as he wheezed.
"You're going to be just fine Jackson. Everything is going to be just fine," she lied. She'd seen enough men wounded and dying to know only a miracle would save him now.
"Light. I need some light. Get me some light," Gene ordered and Skinny lit his lighter, dancing the flame in-front of Jackson's face.
"Jackson, look at the flame," Gene gently ordered the wounded man.
For a second his wheezing slowed as his eyes followed the flame, but just as soon as the calm settled it was torn apart as a terrified cry escaped Jackson's lips.
"I don't want to die," he cried.
"Shhhh, you're not going to die. Look at me Jackson. You keep your eyes on me and you will be fine. You're a paratrooper, you have to fight," she pleaded in a meek voice.
"We have to move him," Gene said to everyone that had gathered around them.
She was about to let go of his face when Jackson's hand shot up to feebly grab hers.
She looked up to Gene in panic. He glanced at her hand and nodded. "You're coming with us."
With that the men lifted Jackson onto a stretcher as she held his hand with both of hers. Believing that she could keep him in this world if she held on tightly enough to him.
"I don't want to die. I don't want to die," Jackson kept crying out as they made for the door.
Another round fell nearby and the men lowered the stretcher to the ground, waiting to see if another round was going to follow.
She dropped to her knees beside the stretcher. Freeing one hand from the grasp it had on Jackson she smoothed over his hair, careful to stay of Gene's way as he tried to apply pressure to his wounds.
"You're OK. You're alright," she begged, desperate for him to live.
Suddenly he started to convulse as he coughed up blood, a warm red mist covering her one cheek.
Gene grabbed his head, trying to keep his airway open. "Jackson!" he screamed.
"I don't wanna die!"
"You're not gonna die. I need you to hold on!" Gene desperately exclaimed as Jackson's body continued to convulse.
There was a sickening gurgle and Jackson's body stilled as a thin stream of sickly warm blood ran from the corner of his mouth down her hand.
The bombs kept falling, distant but constant, but their room was suddenly deathly quiet. Gene sat back and took off his helmet. She removed her hand from Jackson's face and loosened her grip on his hand. She dropped her head as a single tear made its way down her cheek to drop onto the floor, mixing with the dust and blood that was already there.
Try as she might she couldn't tear her eyes away from Jackson's lifeless face, until a dark green blanket obscured her view as someone covered his body. She lifted her eyes to look across the covered body to Gene.
Her friend's eyes held so much desperation and pain that it felt like someone was pressing down on her chest, making it impossible to breathe.
A strong hand on her shoulder pulled her eyes away from Gene's and looking up she found Babe staring down at her. He held out a hand which she took as he helped her to her feet.
"What a waste," she said emotionless, too overcome by grief to feel anything.
He pulled her closer to him, enveloping her in an embrace as she buried her face in his jacket. A part of her wanted to cry. Cry for Jackson and the senselessness of his death, for the pain they've all had to endure, but she just couldn't find the energy to muster another tear.
With a deep breath she took a small step back. Looking up into Babe's shell shocked eyes she said, "I just…I need to get some sleep."
He pulled her back to him and placed a kiss in her hair before reluctantly letting her go.
XXXXXXX
She'd slipped out of OP 2 when it was still dark out. She'd walked aimlessly through the streets which were quiet for once, with the exception of her boots splashing in the muddy water that lined the broken streets.
As the sun rose, casting a faint light over the grey, waterlogged town she found a quiet spot of rubble near the river, in the archway of what was once a pretty building.
Sitting down on the pile of rubble she watched the river flow, her mind drifting away with the current. She'd spent most of the night tossing and turning as Jackson's bloodied face and desperate screams tortured her along with her own guilt. Guilt she felt because she'd been relieved that it was him and not Babe. She just couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't normal. To be relieved that one person was dying because it meant another was still alive. She was sure if this kept happening she'd either go insane or lose the little bit of hope she had left.
With a sigh she dropped her head, rubbing her hands over her tired eyes. Rubble crunching underneath a heavy boot made her head jerk up as her hand instinctively fell to her sidearm.
"Wow, it's just me," Nixon said, holding up his hands.
She relaxed, exhaling the breath she'd been holding. "Hey Nix."
She turned back to the river and Nixon came to take a seat next to her.
He nudged her and she looked over to find him holding out a canteen to her. She raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"It's not water," he answered.
She accepted the canteen and took a long swig, closing her eyes as the liquid comfortingly burned down her throat and settled in her stomach.
Opening her eyes, she handed the canteen back to Nixon, who took a drink of his own before replacing the cap.
"Regiment must be happy. They got two prisoners," she said.
He nodded, his eyes focusing on something across the river. "Yeah, and all it cost us was one life," he replied, anger and exhaustion lacing his words.
"It was his own grenade."
Nixon looked to her, his eyebrows knitted together. "What?"
"He ran in too early. Mistimed his own grenade. The shrapnel tore him apart."
"Jesus Christ."
"That seems to be the prevailing sentiment."
Nixon lit two cigarettes and handed her one without looking her way, his eyes again fixed on the running water. Taking the smoke, she watched the ember burn for a moment before taking her first drag.
"What happened yesterday Amelia?" Nixon asked.
"When?"
"After the building you were in got blown to hell. Something….Are you alright?"
She took a drag of her cigarette, idly watching the smoke twirl in-front of her eyes. "I don't know anymore. Sometimes I think it would be easier to feel nothing. Just be numb. But I'm worried if I do that I'll never be able to drag myself out of that dark hole. So I live somewhere on the cusp. Feeling nothing the one moment and the next feeling everything in excruciating detail."
From the corner of her eye she saw his head turn as he looked at her and she could feel his eyes intently watching her.
After a few moments she met his gaze. His dark rimmed eyes were exhausted and hard, the shine they'd had when they'd first met all but gone. His face was drawn and his shoulders slumped forward as if he carried the weight of the world on them.
"Feeling nothing will kill you Amelia. And we all need you to live, not just survive."
She dropped her head onto his shoulder, leaning into him as she went back to watching the river.
"Nix," she said after a while.
"Yeah."
"Are you OK?"
She felt his chest rise and fall as he took a long, deep breath before answering. "Probably not. I think my wife's gonna leave me."
"She wouldn't," she insisted.
"Maybe, but I got a feeling. Can't say I blame her. I'm not the man she married. Not that it was an entirely happy marriage to begin with."
"I'm sorry. For all of it. You deserve to be happy Nix. You're a good man and a great friend."
"You deserve to be happy too."
She smiled softly, her eyes drifting closed, lulled by the sound of the river and Nixon's presence.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Nixon's voice came from above her head.
With her eyes still closed she replied, "Of course."
"I haven't fired my weapon once in this entire goddamn war."
"Not once? But we've seen so much action," she replied, her eyes now open but her head still on his shoulder.
"Not once. What a fucking joke."
"Can I tell you a secret?" she said.
"Of course," he mimicked her.
"There are days when I wish I'd never signed up. That I'd never taken a life. I've killed so many men. Maybe I can still make peace with God, but I don't know if I can make peace with myself."
She felt a light pressure on her head as Nixon kissed her hair. "You'll find a way. We all have our ghost to put to rest after the war. You ain't alone."
"Neither are you. No matter what, you'll never be alone Nix."
The lapping of the river and distant gunfire were the only sounds for a long time after that, as they both stared at the river and tried to call a truce with their ghosts.
XXXXXXX
Speirs POV
Standing with Winters he caught sight of Amelia and Nixon walking back from the river. Their heads were bowed as they talked amongst themselves, both smiling at their topic of conversation.
He saw Winters follow his line of sight, the worry lines etched into the side of his mouth smoothing over ever to slightly when Nixon's laugh carried over to them.
Nixon steered them over to where he was standing, the two friends still smiling when they reached them.
"Morning gentlemen," Amelia greeted them.
"I don't know how you do it. Usually I can't get him to open one eye let alone move around early in the morning," Winters said, jerking the notepad he was writing in, in Nixon's direction.
Amelia shrugged, "Magic."
"Magic?" Winters asked.
"Do you have a better reason?"
"No, magic sounds 'bout right," Winters replied, a rare smile tugging at his mouth.
Amelia's own smile made his stomach twist and he had to look down to the notes in his hand to give himself some time to collect his emotions before giving her, her orders.
Winters cleared his throat and he knew this was his signal. So steeling his features he looked up to lock eyes with Amelia.
Her smiled faltered and her eyes darted from him to Winters and then back to him.
"There's going to be another patrol tonight," he started.
She nodded, patiently waiting for him to continue.
"Martin will lead it. But we'll need to go further in, so you're going on the patrol."
She briefly looked around their group. "OK," she answered simply, her cold dark eyes not betraying what she was feeling.
She looked to Winters and asked, "Do you need me to watch the Germans again today?"
The captain shook his head. "No. Rest up. Get ready for tonight."
"Alright. Well, I'd best get something to eat before the men polish everything."
He tried to give her a halfhearted smile, but it fell flat and turned out more of a grimace.
Walking past him she patted his shoulder.
He looked over his shoulder to watch her disappear behind a wall before turning back to the other two officers.
Nixon took a drink of his canteen, which he assumed contained something other than water.
"Orders and orders, Speirs. The men all understand that," Winters said.
He nodded, understanding it had to be done but not liking the idea of his men going across the river again.
"Yeah well," Nixon said, "that doesn't make them any less senseless."
XXXXXXX
Amelia POV
She spent most of the day laying on a bunk bed, intermittently talking to whoever else was in the room. She badly wanted to draw Babe to her so she could curl herself into his side and hide away from the world, but even though the other men knew something was going on between them, it wouldn't do to blatantly flaunt it.
As the day drew on the tense atmosphere that had hung over the building all day became almost as visible as their cloud of cigarette smoke. She unwillingly dragged herself off of the bed and moved downstairs, taking a seat around the large kitchen table with some of the other men.
She was the only new member of the patrol so she was the only one that had to prepare her equipment. As the men spoke in hushed tones through lit cigarettes and burnt coffee she busied herself getting ready.
"What you looking at Webster?" someone asked, his voice angry and dripping with spite.
She looked up to find Cobb leaning against a wall, an almost empty bottle of alcohol in his hand and an angry look in his eyes.
Whatever conversation had been going on stilled. She briefly glanced at Webster who chose to ignore Cobb.
"Yeah, that's what I thought College boy," Cobb slurred, unwilling to let go of whatever slight his drunk mind thought had been inflicted on him.
She could feel her muscles tense as her temper started to rise. Cobb wasn't even going on the patrol; he hadn't been on the first one either. The last thing they needed was someone adding anger and drunken pity to the already somber atmosphere.
Before she could say anything Jones turned slowly in his chair to face Cobb. "You drunk trooper?" the young lieutenant asked.
"Leave me alone," Cobb rudely shot back.
"Answer the question," Jones insisted.
Cobb pulled his head up, his eyes struggling to focus on Jones. "Yes, sir I am drunk, sir. Drunk, sick and tired of fucking patrols, taking orders –," Jonny cut him off before he could continue his little rant. "Cobb, shut-up. It's boring OK."
"Taking sides Johnny," Cobb said, the insult to Jones and Webster there for everyone to see.
Johnny turned his back on Cobb and met her eyes. She gave him a nod.
"Yeah, I am."
Cobb took another long drink, almost losing his balance as his body tilted backward precariously.
Having had enough she tried to get him out of the room before he could do more damage. "Cobb," she said and his angry little eyes fell on her, "you've had enough. Put the bottle away and go lay down."
His lips twisted into a vicious smirk as he took a drunken step in her direction. "Fuck you princess. You don't even belong here. Why don't you run home to mommy and daddy? Wait, you can't because they're dead."
There was a split second where everyone just stared at him in shock, even he looked shocked at what he'd said.
"You son-of-a-bitch," Babe growled as he pounced up, his chair smacking against the stone floor as it fell over. In two strides he got to Cobb, grabbing his jacket and smacking him hard into the wall.
This was all it took for the other men to get up, the room now filled with angry voices all threatening bodily harm.
"Hey!" she screamed, but no one seemed to hear her.
"Fuck," she swore under her breath.
Getting up she stood on top of her chair and gave an ear piercing screech.
Slowly, as if they were afraid of what they would find, all the men turned to look at her.
"Good. Now, sit your asses down. Babe, please let Cobb go, he just is not even worth the effort."
Johnny and Jones were the first to move back to their seats, the sullen looks on their faces telling her they didn't want to but would do it for her. The rest of the men followed their lead until only Babe was left standing, his hold still firm on Cobb's jacket.
He looked from Cobb to her and she knew that at that moment he wanted to murder Cobb. She silently asked him to let the other man go and with one hard shove into the wall he dropped his hands and walked back to his seat.
Finally turning her full attention to Cobb she climbed off the chair and slowly walked over to him. He tried to push himself off of the wall, but was too drunk and disoriented so instead he fell back against it.
She grabbed the bottle from his hand. He tried to protest, grabbing for it when she took a step back, easily avoiding his clumsy reach.
"Cobb, I'm going to give you one chance to walk out that door. If you don't, I will hurt you and make it look like an accident. And trust me, I'm about this close," she hissed, holding up two fingers half and inch apart, "to completely losing my shit and murdering someone. So do not test me little man."
He staggered back and eyed her for a moment before fumbling out of the room to go and cause havoc somewhere else.
Turning back to the table she slammed the empty bottle down. "I really appreciate you all looking out for me, and in any other situation please feel free to punch the moron in his big yap, but now really isn't the right time. Just let him go."
They all mumbled some form of an apology which she accepted with a smile and a nod.
Walking back to her chair she took the long way round, allowing her to pass by Babe. She rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, hoping to wordlessly tell him she was alright and that she appreciated what he did.
He looked up and grabbed her hand, returning the pressure for a beat before letting her go.
She took her seat and continued her preparations, suddenly exhausted all over again.
"Ten-hut," Johnny called about an hour later as Dick, Speirs and Nixon entered the room to brief them.
Everyone snapped to attention, but Dick quickly put them at ease.
She moved to take a spot by the table, conveniently pressed against Babe.
Dick took a place at the head of the table where he could see everyone and the whole team huddled around.
She looked away from Dick and found Nixon leaning against a wall, his keen eyes floating from Dick to her and then back again.
A body pressed into her other side and she glanced up, finding Speirs standing there, his eyes fixed on the map in his hands.
"You men did an excellent job last night. I'm proud. Proud. I just saw Colonel Sink and he's proud too. In fact, he's so proud he wants you to do another patrol across the river."
She shifted her weight uncomfortably and looked away from Dick to Nixon. Dick was hesitating, he looked nervous and unsure of himself for the first time she could remember, which made her feel like she was going to throw-up.
Nixon didn't meet her gaze, instead staring at his boots like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.
A cigarette appeared before her eyes and she followed the hand to see Speirs eyeing her suspiciously. She returned his suspicious gaze with one of her own, but still accepted the cigarette, allowing him to light it for her.
"Right about now the outpost we hit last night will go up in flames, Martin?" Dick continued.
"Yes, sir," Johnny responded confidently.
"That means we're going to have to venture further into town this time. Captain Speirs you have the map please."
"Yeah," Speirs replied as he handed Grant the map.
Grant unfolded it, placing it down on the table.
Pointing at buildings on the map, Dick said, "We have enemy movement here and here. Which means this is our new house target here. We recovered all the boats so we'll be setting off from the same place we did last night."
She almost choked on her cigarette. Setting of from the same place, following the same plan was practically suicide even by their considerably low standards.
"We're not changing the plan at all, sir?" Johnny asked, clearly unimpressed.
Dick paused and looked up, briefly catching her eye before turning his attention back to the map and answering, "No, plan's the same. It'll be 02:00-hours instead of 01:00. We clear?"
"Yes, sir," they mumbled a response, almost shell shocked that Dick was making them repeat the plan.
She could feel Babe almost slump into her and she resisted the instinct to grab his hand.
"Good, 'coz huh….I want you all to get a full night's sleep tonight," Dick said.
She quirked her head to one side, not quite believing what she thought he was implying. Where people had been looking at their hands or the table they now looked up to Dick, confusion plainly written on all their faces.
Locking eyes with her Dick finished, "Which means in the morning, you will report to me that you made it across the river, into German lines but were unable to secure any live prisoners. Understand?"
Almost cautiously they all replied with a, "yes sir."
Dick looked away from her to briefly glance at all the men around the table. "Good," he mumbled, collecting the map.
As he took a step away from the table he said, "Look sharp for tomorrow. We're moving off the line."
Speirs nudged her shoulder and Nixon shot her a wink before the three officers left the room. As they walked out everyone turned to follow them, still unwilling to truly believe what had just happened.
Suddenly the atmosphere in the room morphed from somber to relieved and relaxed. Babe grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. She tilted her head up, a ridiculous smile plastered all over her face.
"We're going off the line," he said, smiling from ear to ear.
"We're going off the line," she repeated.
He pulled her into a hug, crushing her body against his as Johnny slapped him on the back.
She laughed into his chest, the sound muffled by his jacket. He let her go, but not before pressing a kiss into her hair.
We're going off the line, she repeated the words in her head as if they were her favorite song.
XXXXXXX
Walking out of OP 2 she briefly tilted her face up to the gray sky and smiled softly. With the smile still on her lips she practically skipped down the stairs and towards the assembled troop trucks.
A shock of familiar blond hair stopped her dead, nearly giving her whiplash.
"Harry?" she exclaimed.
The soldier spun around, a gap-toothed grin greeting her. "Beautiful!"
Skipping over to him she threw her arms around his neck, feeling him stumble a bit. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you still be resting up in some cushy hospital?"
"Had to get back to keep you lot out of trouble."
Letting go of him she said, "Well, it's really good to have you back. We all missed you," laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing she continued, "I missed you."
"Thanks Em. And thank you for everything you did that night. I really can't say how much I appreciate it."
"It's nothing you wouldn't do for me."
"Let's hope I never have to."
She shrugged. "This war seems pretty much done, so I'd say the odds are in your favour."
With a lopsided smile he said, "Here's hoping."
She returned his smile and gave him another hug. "It's really good to have you back," she said over his shoulder.
As she let him go he shot her a wink which she returned with a playful eye role.
After making plans to catch up later she continued heading for the trucks when a strong hand grabbed her arm. She whipped her head around to find a grinning Nixon looking down at her.
"Can I help you Captain Nixon?" she asked, her eyebrow quizzically raised.
"C'mon. I have a surprise for Dick," he replied, jerking his head in Dick's general direction.
With a shrug and a smile she said, "OK," following Nixon as he walked over to Dick.
When Dick saw them he eyed Nixon sceptically before looking to her for an answer. A shrug and a smile was the only answer she could give him.
"Oh, uh, before I forget," Nixon started, "Colonel Sink's a bit unhappy about the appearance of your uniform. He says it's not befitting your rank."
He tossed a small black box at Dick who caught it against his chest. The red-haired captain eyed it for a moment as he turned it around in his hands, before opening the lid.
There were a few seconds of silence as Dick studied the content and she mentally told herself not to stand on her toes to try and catch a glimpse of what was inside.
"Oak leaves," Dick finally said, his eyes still fixed on the content.
Nixon gave him a lazy salute, "Congratulations Major."
Dick looked up and he seemed to be in shock, his eyes quickly drifting back to the box in his hands.
Reaching over to squeeze his arm she said, "Congratulations Dick. I don't know anyone more deserving."
Looking up to meet her eyes he responded with a smile and, "Thank you Amelia. That means a lot coming from you."
She glanced in the direction of the deep rumble of trucks starting their engines. Men were piling in to take their seats and Babe gave her a nod from the back of the closest truck.
Looking back to her two friends she said, "I'd best catch my ride before I get left behind," before dashing off.
They glanced over their shoulder with knowing smirks, following her with their eyes for a heartbeat before returning to their conversation.
Just as she reached her truck she found Lieutenant Jones walking towards a waiting jeep.
"Lieutenant Jones. You're leaving us I hear. Congratulations on the promotion to Regimental staff."
"Thank you sergeant. For everything."
"No problem, sir. Good luck up there."
"You too sergeant," he replied, smiling.
She briefly watched him walk away, her lips turning up into a faint smile. Turning back to the truck she found Webster standing beside her, waiting to get on.
She gently nudged his shoulder and he glanced down at her.
She could see the hesitation on his face, a little bit of worry in his eyes.
She bit her lower lip and scrunched up her nose. "Sorry about being difficult Web. You just came in at a bad time which followed a terrible time. You were also really clean."
His lips turned up into a classically charming smile. "No worries. I did act like an idiot."
With a lopsided smile and a pat on his shoulder she said, "It's good to have you back."
He smiled, the beginning of a blush creeping into his cheeks.
A hand appeared in her peripheral vision and looking over she found Babe smiling down at her.
She returned his smile, gladly accepting his hand.
Any excuse to touch the man.
As he tugged her up into the back of the truck she heard an,"Upsy-daisy."
She slotted into the open seat between him and Gene, the Cajun medic shooting her a wink and scooting closer to her.
Babe threw an easy arm around her shoulders as he planted a tender kiss onto her forehead.
She felt his breath on her cheeks and he whispered into her ear, "I love you."
XXXXXXX
Before I started this chapter I was worried it was going to be too short, so when I finished it and saw it had turned out to the one of the longest I was quite surprised! I hope everyone enjoyed reading it. The last few chapters have been a bit "heavy", which did fit with the part of the story Amelia found herself in, but soon we'll be moving onto something lighter and bits of good-old-fashioned fluff!
Thank you to everyone that I added my little story to their alerts and the lovely messages I've received. It means so much to me that you all come back every week to read the story, I know everyone has busy lives.
Hope you have a great week ahead, chat soon.