Disclaimers: all the usual apply.

Chapter 35

Amelia POV

Austria was truly postcard gorgeous. Large, snow-capped mountains surrounded rolling valleys, lush forests and turquoise lakes.

Their destination ended up being a stunning village tucked between a large lake and the mountain side. Dick stayed true to his word, giving her a private room in the luxurious hotel the officer's had commandeered for their quarters. By the time she'd arrived in her room after helping the men settle into their very comfortable billet, her pack and trunks were already neatly stacked against her double bed.

The room was even bigger than the one she'd stood in at the Eagles Nest. The furnishing was all dark wood, reds and emerald green, with intricately woven carpets covering the wooden floor. There were twin doors leading onto her own private balcony and peering through the lace curtains she could see the lake on the one side and the mountain on the other. She eyed the bed and ran towards it, jumping into the air and flipping around so she landed on her back, nearly disappearing between the puffy duvet and mountain of pillows. Lying there in her private little heaven, she thought what she'd do with her day since she was only needed to report for duty the next morning.

Well, I can assume the bathroom's as nice as the room. So, bath, sleep, bath again and some more sleeping. Fuck, I'm so happy I could cry.

XXXXXXX

Their days in Austria were spent going on patrols, managing check points, drilling, sitting around in the sun, drinking and swimming in the lake.

It would have been the perfect way to wait out the remainder of the war, if the threat of deployment didn't hang over them every day.

It had been confirmed soon after they'd arrived that Easy would, at some stage, be shipped out to the Pacific. The men needed 80 points to go home before then, and even most veterans didn't have enough. Which meant men that had served since Normandy would be deployed again when the time came.

She had enough points, she actually had some to spare, but she was still weighing up what to do. She felt guilty at the thought of leaving the men to ship off without her, but she'd been fighting for longer than any of them and with everything that had happened she was ready to go home.

If I stay they'll probably kidnap me and ship me back to the States anyway, she thought of her friends' reactions if she announced she was staying with them.

It was because of the point system that they rigged the lottery the Army had decided to hold. On the anniversary of D-day, one trooper from each Company's name would be drawn from a hat and he'd get to go home, points be damned.

All the men wanted to go home and they were all deserving, but in the end the NCO's decided that Shifty should be the one to go, so they rigged the draw so only his name was in the hat.

She smiled when his name was called, even though she knew it would be, the look on his face too precious for words.

"Shifty," she called, running over to him after the ceremony.

She wiggled between the men standing around him and threw her arms around his neck. He laughed and she felt her toes off of the ground as he returned her enthusiastic hug.

"I'm so happy for you," she exclaimed when he put her down.

He smiled shyly, "Gosh Em, thank you. That means a lot."

"Now, you must send me letters from Virginia, promise."

"I promise, but only if you write back."

"Of course!"

For a split second his smile faltered.

"Hey now. What's wrong?"

He looked down at his feet and spoke softly, "What am I supposed the tell the folks back home?"

She rested her hand on his shoulder, "I don't know hun. Whatever you can, or want to. They won't really understand, not unless they lived through it themselves."

He raised his eyes and nodded, his jaw set and his eyes thoughtful.

"I'll see you around," she said goodbye to her friend.

"I'll be seeing you," he replied.

What are we going to tell the people back home? What am I going to tell Derek's mother?

XXXXXXX

Babe POV

Strolling to the small wooden pier situated on the bank of the tranquil lake he couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face when he spied her lying on her back, eyes shielded with a casual arm thrown over her face as she warmed herself in the sun. Her long blonde hair was fanned out behind her, her long legs tanning in the sun as she wiggled her toes.

The water was far too cold for most of them to brave, but Amelia and Winters went for a swim on most days. He never asked the Major why he did it, but Amelia's reason was that she loved baking in the Austrian sun afterwards. She'd found a women's swimsuit in town, and wore it underneath her black PT shorts and white shirt. When he'd asked her why she insisted on wearing her PT gear she simply glanced at a group of Russian soldiers who were walking by at that exact moment, as if the universe had sent them to help her make an obvious point.

The wooden planks creaked underneath his booted footfalls even as he tried not to disturb her. She lifted her head a fraction, spying him from underneath her hand. He saw her lips move into a lazy smile before she dropped her head back.

He sat down next to her, his legs dangling over the side of pier. Glancing to his right he saw her watching him from underneath her arm. He gently touched the arm thrown over her eyes, her warm skin almost stinging his fingertips.

"Hey," she said, her voice softly drifting up to him.

"Hey," he husked as he leaned over.

His dog tags tumbled out of his shirt and she reached up, grabbing hold of them and pulling him closer until his lips met her sun kissed ones.

He wanted nothing more than to deepen their kiss, but reluctantly he pulled himself upright. They were alone at that moment, but soldiers, officers, came down to the lake regularly and all hell would rain down on them if they we caught.

"How was your swim?" he asked.

"Refreshing."

"Would be. The water's freezing."

She smiled. "How was the checkpoint?"

Staring over the lake to the surrounding mountains he answered, "Uneventful. Man, who ever thought occupation could be this dull?"

He heard her chuckle, a rhythmic sound that rippled in the air around them.

"You working tonight?"

"Nope. I only had this morning and the drills after lunch. You?"

"No. Luz is planning a poker game. You want to come?"

"What I want is to feel your lips all over my warm skin," she replied casually, but he could hear the mischievous pitch in her voice.

He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, his eyes running along her body, tracing all the paths his lips still had to take. Settling them back on her face he found a triumphant grin waiting for him.

She'd made me look and she knew it. Damnit, she's gonna be the end of me.

"You're evil."

"You wouldn't have it any other way and you know it. Besides, you said you're bored. Now you're not."

Rolling his eyes he turned his face back to the lake.

"I'll pop in tonight. Somehow drag myself away from my very comfortable bed."

"You're not helping," he retorted, his mind racing with images of their first night together.

"It wasn't my intention to help."

A lazy silence settled between them, the heat of the sun and the sound of lapping water lulling them into blissful contentment.

Suddenly there was a shift in the air around them and he was sure she could sense him building up the courage to ask her the question that had been eating at him for days.

She waited patiently, watching a bird fly overhead and no doubt dreaming of home.

"How many points do you have?" he finally managed to ask.

She knew what he was referring to, quite frankly they were both surprised it had taken him this long to ask.

XXXXXXX

Amelia POV

Sitting up she swung her legs over the side of the pier, scooting in close to him. He glanced over to her, the charming smile and deep brown eyes momentarily making her forget what he'd asked.

Tearing her gaze away from him so she could think straight, she replied, "More than I need. Makes sense I suppose. I've been fighting longer than even the Normandy veterans and I've been wounded more than once."

From the corner of her eye she saw him nod, "Yeah, that's what I figured."

"So really, you wanted to know what I've decided to do about the points and asking how many I have was just the long way round to get there?"

"Not very sneaky huh?"

She smiled and bumped him with her shoulder. "Not much, no."

They both laughed softly, their voices winding together before floating over the water.

Babe's laughter was the first to die. Speaking quickly, as if he's practiced the works a hundred times and wanted to make sure he got them all out before he forgot he said, "I want you to use the points and go home. I know, you're gonna do whatever you want to in the end. And you've earned the right to do that, but baby, I've earned the right to ask you to keep yourself safe."

He turned to face her and reached for her hands lying in her lap. Holding onto them as if he was trying to impress the urgency of his words he continued, "You've seen the tapes of the Pacific. That war's different, maybe even more brutal. When I think of you going into that, I can't breathe or think or do anything other than pray for you to make it out alive."

When he finished his chest was rising and falling quickly, his breath coming in short bursts like he'd just run up one of the surrounding mountains.

She untangled one of her hands from his grasp and gently laid in against his cheek. "If the roles were reversed I would have asked you the same thing.

Dropping her hand into her lap she continued, "I can't imagine you, and the men, going off to fight without me. I feel guilty even at the thought. Leaving before the end feels like I'm abandoning you, like it's somehow a betrayal."

"Amelia, it's not and no one would think that. God, most of the guys have wanted to ask you to take the points and go home, they just didn't have the guts."

Her lips turned up into the start of smile, the idea of all those grown men being scared of one woman a little bit funny.

"I know. I know I'm being silly. I mean I'm ecstatic every time someone gets the chance to get the hell out. I'm…..I'm tired of fighting Edward. I'm tired of sleeping in muddy foxholes, hungry, cold and wet. I'm tired of having to kill or be killed and even more of having to watch my friends die. I'm exhausted and it was only once we stopped fighting that I realised how much. I want to have a home that's filled with laughter and people and joy. I want a normal job and average concerns, not life and death ones. I want to be able to wear a dress if I want to damnit!"

He cracked a smile, cupping her face with his calloused hand, patiently waiting for her to tell him her decision.

"I met with Sink and Winters this morning. I told them I want to stay with the Company until you redeploy, this gives me time to train up the replacements, but I'm taking my points. I'm going home."

"And what did they say?" he asked hesitantly, as if unwilling to believe what he'd heard.

"They agreed, said I'd done enough. To be honest they both seemed a bit relieved, although I'm not sure about which part."

He pulled her towards him, their lips clumsily meeting midway. She giggled against his lips and he laughed into her mouth.

"I take it you're happy?" she asked between kisses.

Cupping her face with both hands, he crushed her lips against his. She threw her arms around his neck, melting into the kiss and forgetting for a moment that someone could walk in on them.

He parted their lips and rested his forehead against hers, his eyes remaining shut as if he were breathing her in.

"You're going home," he whispered.

"I'm going home," she repeated, a tinge of sadness to her words since he wasn't going home with her.

XXXXXX

After a night of poker, plundered cigars and expensive brandy, Babe escorted her back to her billet. She'd promised she'd never drink again, but as it turned out it was a good thing she never took Joe's bet, because before she knew it she was a few dollars up and couple of glasses down.

Reaching the front door she nearly tripped over her own feet, Babe catching her in the nick of time as she giggled profusely.

"You sure you'll be able to make it to your room?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Trying to get into my room are you?" she teased.

He smirked and shook his head, "Yeah, you're fine."

She looked around, and happy that they were momentarily alone she stole a quick kiss, pulling away and bounding up the stairs in a fit of giggles before he even had a chance to register what had happened.

"Night!" he shouted after her.

Reaching the top of the stairs she spun around wildly and blew him a kiss before opening the door and disappearing.

XXXXXXX

Entering the dining room the following morning, she halted in the doorway, looked around and turned on her heels. With the exception of a handful of officers from other Companies, none of the men from Easy, or Dick and Nix, were anywhere to be seen.

She wandered the hallways and living spaces, searching each common room and the balconies for any signs of her friends. With each passing minute she became more and more anxious, her gut telling her something was wrong.

Just as she crossed the lobby to the entrance a familiar silhouette ascending the main staircase to the bedrooms caught her eye.

"Ron," she called out, jogging after him.

He stopped, his shoulders slumping forward, and turned slowly. The front of his uniform was covered in familiar bloodstains, his face worn and exhausted.

She slowed her jog, approaching him almost unwillingly now, and coming to a stop on the stair he'd halted.

When he didn't volunteer an explanation for his state, which she assumed was linked to the disappearance of her friends, she swallowed and asked, "What happened?"

He ran his hand over his bloodshot eyes before replying, "Grant was shot last night. One bullet to the head. It looked bad, but we were able to find a Kraut surgeon that could help. There's a chance he'll make it."

"How?" she asked, wracking her brain for any report of enemy movements and coming up blank.

"Replacement from I Company. Grant was on his way to the checkpoint last night when he found the guy drunk on the side of the road. He'd already killed two Germans and a British Major."

For a second she dropped her head and rubbed her eyes. Looking back up she asked, "Did you find the guy?"

Speirs nodded. "Easy found him."

"Is he still alive?"

"Yes, because Grant is."

She nodded.

"The men wanted to wake you, but Winters ordered them to let you sleep."

"That's because he knows me well enough to know that if I'd found him first, he wouldn't be alive this morning," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Everyone was at the hospital, but they're on their way back now."

She looked to the door, half expecting someone to walk through it as if on cue, "You know this is going to happen again, right?"

She turned to face him but he said nothing in reply.

"Bored soldiers with guns and booze, Ron."

He sighed. "I know. We know. We're going to start putting curfews in place, and sporadic checks to ensure the men are sober. Hopefully it'll help."

"Hopefully. You should get cleaned up and get some rest. You look terrible."

He narrowed his eyes at her and she shrugged it off.

"I'm going to the hospital. I'll be back in time for drills," she said already descending the stairs.

"Be careful," he said after her.

She waved casually as she walked out into the sun.

XXXXXXX

After a morning spent at the hospital and a long afternoon of never ending drills she was exhausted. The men had invited her to another game of poker at their billet, but she'd politely declined, rather choosing to squeeze in another visit to Grant before calling it a night.

Leaving the hospital, or rather being kicked out by an annoyed nurse that didn't seem to speak a word of English, she decided to take the long way back to the hotel. The night was comfortably warm and the town was peaceful. Every so often a handful of soldiers would walk past her, salute and be on their way, but as she walked further and further away from the hospital and deeper into the residential area where the locals stayed the soldiers became less until they disappeared.

Every so often she could hear a woman laugh, or some children shout as they played behind heavy curtains. Voices would drift out of apartments, and even though she couldn't make out what they were saying it was oddly comforting to hear such everyday sounds.

Her mind drifted to her return to the States and everything she had to do when she got back. She started to make plans and lists in her head as her feet carried her deeper into the suburbs before swinging in the direction of the hotel.

Angry voices disrupted the peaceful evening and her thoughts. She slowed down, treading carefully as she strained to hear where they were coming from, trying to listen over her heart pounding in her ears.

She could make out screaming, angry with and American accent, followed by a pleading sound. She followed the noise, unclipping her sidearm as she picked up the pace.

Rounding a sharp corner she stopped at the edge of a shadowy alley. She could make out two soldiers, guns raised, talking hysterically to two civilians. The civilians consisted of an older German man, probably in his late fifties, who was shielding a teenage boy from the American soldiers and their guns.

She started to take calculated steps into the alley when a pebble caught the tip of her boot and went skidding towards the men. The soldier closest to her jerked his pistol in the direction of the sound and she stilled instantly as the barrel of his gun levelled with her chest.

Holding up her hands to show that she wasn't a threat she continued walking forwards slowly, her eyes remaining fixed on the two armed men. "Soldiers, what is going on here?" she asked, trying her best to keep her voice level and calm despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins and her heart beating out of control.

The soldier closets to her frowned and his aim dropped an inch, no longer levelled directly at her chest. "These two are Krauts! Bloody, filthy Krauts!" he screamed, gesturing wildly to the two hostages.

She dared to look away from the barrel of his gun for a second to glance at the Germans. They looked from her to the two soldiers, their eyes wide as they tried to follow the unfamiliar exchange.

She swallowed hard and turned her gaze back to the American soldiers. She'd moved forward enough that she could now clearly see their faces in the dimly lit street. They were both relatively young, but they had the look of veterans about them by the hard glint to their eyes. The one closest to her was blond, his hair still neatly combed, framing his round face, while his compatriot had thinning brown hair and a thick pink scar running along his left cheek.

"I see. What are your names soldiers?" she asked, as she took another tentative step towards the group.

The dark haired soldier glanced her way, his eyes momentarily registering shock as if he'd only noticed her now. "You should leave. We'll handle them," he snarled.

"Now you know I can't do that. Why don't you tell me your names and what they did?"

The blond soldier still had his gun trained on her, but she could see the barrel shake as he looked between her, his friend and the Germans.

"They're Nazis! That's what they did. These two bastards killed Americans!" he shouted, his voice rising hysterically and movements becoming more and more erratic.

"Nein, nein! We did not fight," the older civilian protested in broken English.

"Shut up you filthy Kraut!" the blond one screamed as he turned his gun away from her and back on the Germans.

The older man pushed his son further behind him just as she finally reached the group, coming to stand directly in-front of the cowering civilians.

"Move!" the dark haired soldier barked, shoving his gun closer to her.

She took a deep breath before replying, "Why don't you lower your guns and let them go. We can talk and get this whole thing straightened out."

The blond spat at her feet. "You're a fucking Kraut sympathiser! You're no better than them."

She slowly lowered her hand as she spoke, hoping to reach her sidearm before they noticed it, "No, I'm a soldiers just like you. I fought with Easy Company in the 506. You need to walk away before you do something you'll regret forever."

The dark haired soldier barked a laugh before retorting, "The only thing I regret, it that I didn't kill more Krauts."

Just then she realised she was too late. These men weren't drunk, or fresh faced replacements looking for a fight. They were veterans that had seen countless horrors and were so deeply scarred by them they'd driven them mad.

As if happening in slow motion she saw the dark haired soldier's weight shift an inch, the barrel of his pistol moving to her right by a fraction. The snarl on his face matched the curl of his finger around the trigger of his gun.

"No!" she screamed, throwing her body in the line of his bullet.

Suddenly the quiet night was shattered with the sound of one gunshot, followed immediately by another.

She registered the sounds a heartbeat before she felt a bone crunching punch to her right shoulder. As the momentum pushed her backwards the wind was driven from her lungs as another punch hit her in the stomach.

She hit the cobblestoned path hard, unable to break her fall as she gasped for air. Her head smacked down, the crack reverberating inside her skull even as she tried to catch her breath.

There were shouts and footsteps that sounded as if they were miles away. She turned her head slowly in their direction. Two pairs of booted feet disappeared down the dark alley as a pair of strong hands grabbed her face and moved her head so she was looking into the emerald green eyes of the older German man.

"Ludwig, take your jacket. Press it onto her stomach," the man ordered his son, never taking his eyes from hers.

The boy must have obliged because her world erupted in a haze of pain as fire shot out of her core into her every nerve.

She tried to scream, but she had no breath left so it came out a whimper.

The father pulled off his own jacket, ripping off a long shred of material which he bound around her shoulder. This time she expected the pain so she bit down hard onto her lips, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.

"Get the car," he ordered his son.

She heard running, but when she tried to look where he was going the man said, "No, look at me. Stay with me."

She nodded feebly, keeping her eyes focused on his. He gently took her hands and moved them to her stomach. She felt the rough wool underneath her fingertips, her blood already seeping through the fibres and understood that he needed her to press down on her own wound to try and control the bleeding.

Gritting her teeth she pressed down with what force she could muster, wave after wave of pain making her stomach recoil as she tried not to throw-up or pass out.

Through the pain and nausea she faintly heard tyres screech and footsteps pounding the pavement, coming closer.

"We take you to the hospital," the farther said.

"No," she groaned through her clenched jaw, "too far. Take me to hotel, the large one by the lake. Ask for Winters or Speirs."

He looked like he was going to object, but something about the certainty in her voice must have changed his mind.

With a curt nod he lifted her into his arms. This time she did scream, unable to control the pain that shot through her.

She drifted in and out of consciousness after that. She felt herself being bundled into the backseat of a large car, her head laying on someone's lap who applied pressure to her shoulder. The pain both shocking her back into her body and making her head spin. There was a sticky, wet warmth spreading over her abdomen as her limps became colder and heavier.

She faintly recognised the sound of screeching tyres and German cursing, followed by panicked voices talking over her head. She caught a glimpse of the stars and the street lamps, the light from both blurring together into a single, blinding streak.

The car stopped abruptly and the door at her head flung open. Cool evening air washing over her damp skin.

"Wait here," the familiar voice ordered.

She wanted to giggle. It wasn't like she was going anywhere, but then all she could see again were the stars and the street lights.

XXXXXXX

Speirs POV

Reaching the carpeted floor at the bottom of the winding staircase, Lipton at his side in a companionable silence, he was about to head for the dining room where the other officers had already set up a poker game when raised voices gave him pause.

He couldn't see the foyer from where they were standing so he frowned and quirked his head to the side, trying to gauge if his intervention really was required.

He could make out broken, heavily accented English, panic evident in the first speaker's every word, quickly followed by a clipped American accent.

He looked over his shoulder to Lipton who'd already taken a step towards the foyer. With a resigned sigh he walked towards the raised voices, unwilling to really get involved but realising he would have to none the less.

Just as he was about to round the corner he heard his name being shouted, quickly followed by Winters'.

He steeled himself and entered the foyer, prepared for anything expect the scene that met him.

An older German man, his clothes covered in a sickening amount of blood, was repeatedly shouting his name, his panic growing with every passing minute. The two junior sentry's were trying their best to calm the man down so they could help him, but he tried to shove past them and both men reacted by pushing him back.

"What's the meaning of this?" he asked and all eyes snapped to him.

"Sir," the sentry closest to him responded, "this German says he needs to speak to you, but won't say why."

"Won't say or you can't understand him?" he bit back.

The sentry dropped his gaze, "Yes, sir."

He came to stop between the two sentries with Lipton at his right shoulder.

"I'm Captain Speirs," he told the German.

The man's eyes shot to his and he could now see the full extent of the panic and desperation in them. The look made his stomach twist even as the smell of blood slapped him in the face.

The man grabbed his jacket and tugged hard, "Come, you must come. She's dying."

He grabbed the arm holding onto him and locked the man with his dark gaze. "She?"

"Yes, the female soldier is dying."

For a second that stretched out for eternity the words rang inside his head over and over again.

She's dying. She's dying.

A firm hand on his shoulder brought him crashing back to reality. His head snapped to the hand, finding Lipton looking at him, waiting for his orders.

"Get Winters and the others. You two," he pointed to the sentries, "get the Easy medic Roe here now!"

Lipton didn't even acknowledge the order before he sprinted into the belly of the hotel. The two sentries were out the door before he could even turn his attention back to them.

He turned to the German, "Show me."

The man nearly dragged him outside, but as soon as he saw the waiting car he pushed past him to the open door.

Amelia was lying on the back seat, her head lolling to one side as a young boy spoke to her, hysterically trying to keep her awake. Even in the weak light he could see the pool of blood that had formed inside the car and the thin red streaks dripping down the side.

Getting to the door of the car he reached inside and, along with the older man's help, lifted her out of the car and onto the pavement.

She groaned, her eyes opening as she clenched her jaw to stop the scream he could see in her eyes.

She reached for his face, her hand slick with blood but ice cold. "They tried to save me," she croaked, weakly gesturing with a finger in the direction of the German.

He nodded, "Shhhh…save your energy. Doc's on his way."

"OK," she whispered, her eyes starting to lose focus again as her hand dropped from his face.

"Amelia, stay with me," he insisted, enveloping her hand in his and holding on for dear life.

Feet came crashing towards him and suddenly Winters was on Amelia's other side, hands reaching for her blood soaked stomach as he tried to find the source of the bleeding to apply pressure.

Immediately taking charge of the situation Winters barked out orders, the Major looking truly panicked for the first time that Speirs could remember. "Speirs, keep her awake. Harry, get a jeep. Nix, I think her shoulder's bleeding too. Put pressure on it."

Nixon fell to his knees on her right side and pressed onto her shoulder just as Winters applied renewed pressure to her stomach.

Her black eyes snapped open and this time she couldn't hold in the scream. The sound ripped from her lips and tore through them all as the night came crashing down around them.

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and her grip dug into his hand.

"Dick," she whispered through clenched teeth.

"I'm here," the major said.

"It was two Americans. 82nd."

"We'll get them. You stay with us. Doc's on his way," Winters responded, his eyes begging her to hold on a little while longer.

"You're going to be fine Amelia. You're going to make it. You just have to hold on a little while longer," he pleaded.

She nodded, or at least he thought she did.

They'd been lucky the night before with Grant, she'd been lucky on a dozen occasions before, he hoped and prayed their luck wasn't about to run out now.

XXXXXXX

Babe POV

"You lose another one Don. Pay up," he demanding, holing out one hand for his winnings.

"Double of nothing," Don hedged and he nodded. He'd had pretty good luck so far tonight, may as well see if it lasts.

Luz started to shuffle the cards and he leaned back in his chair, taking a long drag of a cigarette as he waited for the game to start.

The door to their billet crashed open and two soldiers stumbled inside, their eyes franticly scanning the room of men who were all looking at them.

"What the fuck do you want?" Joe snarled from between his lit smoke.

"We need Doc Roe now," the one guy exclaimed.

From the corner of his eye he saw Gene stand, but the medic didn't move.

"What's this about?" Gene asked the two unfamiliar soldiers.

"You got your medical bag?" the same guy asked, his eyes darting frantically to the open door behind him.

Gene patted he satchel slung over his shoulder.

"Captain Speirs needs you at the officer's billet now!"

"What? Did one of the gentlemen fall down the stairs or something?" someone cracked from the corner of the room.

The second solider who hadn't said a word so far took a step into the room and shouted, "For God's sake! The woman, the sniper, she's been shot. Now move!"

Even as his brain refused the accept what he'd heard his feet were already carrying him out the door and into warm evening, Gene hot on his heels.

They sprinted through the town at a break neck speed, a dozen or so soldiers running as if their lives depended on it.

All he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears, his lungs screaming for more air as his legs demanded to move faster.

Getting closer to the hotel he could see a crowd of huddled down next to an unfamiliar car, and closing the distance between them he heard their frantic voices cascading over each other even over the pounded in his head.

A jeep screeched past them, slamming the brakes and coming to an abrupt halt next to the crowd.

He shoved past the officers, not caring about rank or consequence. The first thing he saw was the blood on Nixon's hands, her blood, and then all he could see was her. Lying on the hard ground, men trying to keep her blood inside her body or keep her awake. The colour had all but drained from her face, and her beautiful large eyes were closed.

"Heffron, come here," Speirs' commanding voice drew his attention.

He fell down to his knees at Amelia's head, his hands reaching for her cheeks of their own accord. Emotion was clawing at this throat, threatening to overwhelm him as tears stung the corners of his eyes.

Gene shoved past the soldiers and fell down to his knees at her side. For a split second the medic hesitated and his eyes flicked to her face and then to his. He gave him a nod, saying what he wasn't sure because all the could think was, please, save her.

Gene went to work, hands, bandages and blood soaked clothing moving in a blur which he ignored. He turned his attention back to her face and found her staring up at him. Her eyes blurry, dull almost, but resolutely focused on his.

He leaned down and whispered, "Amelia, you remember that night in the foxhole in Bastogne. You promised me you'd always fight to come back to me. I need you to fight now. Please."

Her lips twitched into what he thought could be a smile as her hand drifted up to his face. Her fingers brushed clumsily against his cheek, her smile changing into a grimace as she tried to speak.

He hushed her, "Shhh...I know. We'll have the rest of our lives for you to tell me."

Her features relaxed and he felt her fingers slip from his face.

"Amelia, baby? Stay away, stay with me," he pleaded desperately, his voice pitching up when she didn't open her eyes.

"We have to move now," Gene exclaimed.

People started to move around him but he refused to budge, his hands holding onto either side of her face as he pressed his forehead against hers.

A strong hand grabbed his shoulder and spoke in his ear, "You have to let her go. We have to move her. You'll go with us."

He lifted his head and tore his eyes away from her to find Winters holding onto him.

He nodded feebly and pushed himself back so she could be lifted onto a waiting stretcher. Winters dragged him to his feet and pushed him to the back of the jeep.

Nixon was already sitting in the driver's seat, revving the engine impatiently as Speirs barked orders to the Easy soldiers from the passenger side. Amelia's stretched was strapped to the bonnet of the jeep and Gene was leaning over her, nearly standing on top of Speirs.

He looked past all of them to Amelia. Her eyes were closed and Gene was talking to her, his hands pressed down on her stomach.

Winters slapped Nixon's shoulder and the jeep jumped forward. The wind ripped past them, carrying Gene voice over to him.

He couldn't understand the words, he was sure the medic was speaking in French, praying. It sounded desperate, all pleading and helpless. Not the type of prayer when you when you're begging not to lose someone, but the one where they're already lost, and you know only a miracle will bring them back.

He dropped his face into his hands and felt a tear slide down his cheek as he said a prayer of his own.

XXXXXXX

I do hope everyone had a wonderful week and a great weekend so far. Thanks to everyone that added the story to their alerts and favourite lists.

I hope the chapter caught you a bit off guard (is that evil? hahahaha...) and that you enjoyed reading it.