Firstly, I would like to thank thatiswhatpeopledo, Paul, Amanda and bethrodrigues.77 for reviewing. I'm really glad that you like Jess and her story :)

I have to also thank all the others who put this story on their list of favourites.

Let's see how you'll like chapter 6... as always, reviews and advices will be appreciated :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Band of Brothers. This is purely of entertainment. It is based on the HBO miniseries and no disrespect is meant towards the real men of Easy Company.

Chapter Six: Brothers From Far Away

The humming of the engine made me open my eyes.

"Miss?" The driver glanced over his shoulder. "Miss, we're here."

What? Already? Craning my neck, I glanced around. We had stopped near a house with large windows and a wide garden in front. Although the first day of June was tomorrow, the heat was already turning the grass in the garden into yellow. I could only imagine what would happen when the summer actually came.

"Well, I should be going." I stepped out of the Jeep and closed the door shut. "Thank you for the lift, sir."

"Sure thing, Miss."

Smiling for a moment and strolling to the back part of the vehicle, I picked up a box with supplies. And then I knocked on the door, giving the driver the sign to move on. As soon as I did that, he turned the steering wheel and drove off, leaving a pair of long, muddy tire tracks in the street.

As he was disappearing in the distance, I looked inside the box, making sure that everything was in its place. Before Eugene had sent me for new supplies, he had made me promise to bring them all back in one piece. Luckily, they remained intact during the whole journey back. Even the bottles with plasma were unscathed.

Speaking of medics…

"Jess, is that you?", a voice asked.

I turned around. But, then I jerked backwards, since Ralph had appeared only inches away from my nose. He timidly smiled in the meantime and took off his cap. On the other hand, I looked at him in bewilderment. What's he doing all the way here?

"Ralph, is there something wrong?", I asked, "Does Gene need any help?"

"Nope. He's fine." To my surprise, his smile slightly became wider. "It's just… well, there's a few guys who'd like to meet ya. Actually, more than a few."

That made my brow furrow. "Really? Who?"

"You'll find out soon. They're just over there."

"But…"

Before I could finish, he placed his hand on my back and led me beside a hedgerow. We reached a corner and went around it, ending up in a quiet street. Except houses, which were standing on its left and right side, and a few parked vehicles, there was nothing else. But, after a few steps, I found out that it wasn't completely true. I heard voices not so far from here, shouting and laughing. Some of them even had that southern drawl, which I had often heard in the Aid station. Aye, those are definitely Yanks…

It didn't last long when they came into sight. Following Ralph behind a motionless truck, I saw a group of lads playing basketball. There were five of them, actually. While I was watching, one dodged his two friends, guiding the ball forward. A second later, he jumped and got the ball through a hoop, nailed to the wall of a house.

"Hey, guys!" Ralph raised his hand in the air. "Here she is!"

A corner of my lips curved when I recognised a couple of faces. Donald was sitting on a hood of a nearby Jeep, enjoying his cigarette, while Bill was standing at the wall. As soon as he saw me, he grinned and waved.

"Hey, Jessie!"

Holding the box with one hand, I somehow waved back to him. "Hi, Shakespeare."

A lad, who was sitting beside Don, looked at me in confusion.

"And who are you?", he asked.

Don elbowed him with a smirk. "She's the one who almost gave me a haircut with that propeller of hers."

"Hers?" The lad gawped at me with wide brown eyes. And then he turned to Don, raising his eyebrows. "You mean, she's that crazy pilot from the farm?"

"Oi, watch your mouth!" I would have taught him a lesson, there and then. However, while holding a large box filled to the top, that wasn't so possible. I eventually settled with frowning at him. "I'm not crazy. I'm just… practicing."

"Hey, I didn't mean that!" The stranger came closer. "I mean, you are crazy, but in a nice way." He smiled and shook my free hand. "My name's George."

Another lad strolled by and shook my hand, too, but with much more energy. I had to hold on tightly to my supplies, in order to prevent them from falling out.

"Joe Toye", he introduced himself, "I'm Bill's best friend."

"Really?", Bill asked behind him, "Since when?"

Good old Shakespeare. Sniggering a bit, I took my hand out of Joe's. That was when something came to my mind, making me blink.

"Wait a minute… there are two Joes here?"

"Oh, yeah." The other Joe, who had had a boxing match with Bill in the Aid station, appeared beside Toye. "But, my last name sounds much better. It's Liebgott." As he gave my hand a short squeeze, he asked: "So, you like flyin', huh?"

"Aye." The thought of it made me almost grin. "Very much."

At that moment, behind Joe's shoulder, I saw a tall man gazing at me. Actually, tall wasn't an appropriate word for describing him. He was standing only a couple of steps away, but he still seemed to be towering over Joe and me. In spite of how tall I was, that bloke made me feel tiny like a mouse.

"I think I saw you at the Aid station before", he said in a surprisingly deep voice.

I nodded. "You're right. I work there."

George blinked a couple of times. "You're a nurse, too?" That was when he slowly shook his head in disbelief. "Oh, Speen, you sure know how to pick 'em!"

That comment made everyone snigger. I even saw a familiar boyish grin appearing on Bill's face. He was still smiling while he made a few steps closer.

"Jess, can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Why, aye. Of course."

He bent and picked up the ball from the pavement. And then he spun it on the top of his index finger.

"Do ya play basketball?"

"A little. But that was a very long time ago." I used a second to glance at my watch. It was already 1:20 p. m, which wasn't a good sign. I should have been in the Aid station by now. "Listen, lads… I'm really glad to meet you. But, I have some things to deliver and…"

I was in a middle of the sentence when Ralph snatched the box out of my hands.

"You know what?", he asked, "I'll get this to Gene. You can stay."

"What?" I tried to get the box back, but he quickly moved away with it. "But, Ralph…"

"Jess, in case you haven't notice, it's a nice day outside. In a place like England, that's one damn miracle." He paused for a bit. "No offence."

I did my best not to retort. "None taken."

"I'm trying to say that the Aid station is running ya off your feet. You deserved a break. I'm sure Gene won't mind if you come a little later."

"Ralph!"

Even if I wanted to dissuade him and tell him that this was a bad idea, I didn't have a chance for it. With a short grin, Ralph scuttled off with supplies in his hands, leaving me with Bill and his brothers from far away.

So much for my talent for persuading… I snapped out of my thoughts when one short sound reached my ears. And then another one. And one more. Turning around, I found out that Bill was the source of it. He was patting the ball, which bounced a few times against the concrete.

"So…" After one more pat, he shifted his gaze from his feet to me. "To play, or not to play, that is the question!"

He had said that in such a theatrical way, that I struggled not to snigger. That was the moment he chose to throw the ball at me. I was quick enough to catch it. Holding it firmly in my hands, I glanced at him and each of his friends. But, after some time, I felt my smile fading away again. I still had a feeling about this game. I would enjoy a break, of course, but I wasn't planning on embarrassing myself in the meantime.

However, there wasn't much I could do now. Except praying not to trip on something. Doing my best not to sound worried, I put on a brave face and said:

"All right, lads. Let's see what you got."

It didn't take them too long to organise. Bill and Liebgott immediately appointed themselves as bosses, which didn't surprise me much. I had to roll my eyes for a moment while they picked who would play on their side. In the end, we got three players who would try to outsmart four – since there were seven of us. Some of the lads were bothered by this, but they soon decided to brush it aside. Before I knew it, we were all standing in our spots in the streets, eyeing our opponents, waiting for the game to start.

And so it started. The ball flew up in the air and a pair of hands grabbed it.

"Hey, Lieb!", someone shouted, "Over here!"

I watched as Liebgott passed the ball to Donald. In a few quick steps, the red-haired lad avoided Bill's defence, jumped and scored. However, that wasn't the end. The ball barely managed to bounce once when George grabbed it and passed it. But, it didn't made it to its destination, because I got in its way. I caught it and scuttled off, making George quietly groan in disappointment.

A few moments later, I found out that this wasn't such a good idea. I only made a couple of steps before Joe Toye appeared in front of me. He smirked in a cheeky way, hoping to snatch the ball from me. However, that wasn't planning on giving up quickly. I pursed my lips and held my ground. Tapping the ball, I glanced left and right, trying to come up with my next move.

"So, while you're buying some time…", Joe began, "Why don't you tell me something about yourself?"

"Maybe some other time, Toye."

That was when I dashed right past him and threw the ball, which ended up in the right hands – Malarkey's. However, Bill moved towards him and tried to block him again. Not knowing where else to go, Don turned around and threw the ball back to me.

Great. I furrowed my brow as Toye spread his arms, preventing me from escaping again. This will be harder than I thought.

"Why are you looking me like that?", I asked, patting the ball a few more times.

"Well, I'm just trying to imagine ya in a dress and high heels", he replied with a smile, "I bet you got lots of them at home."

"Frankly, I have only one pair." I shrugged. "I mean, I look nice in them, but walking in those things is a bloody nightmare. I prefer my good old boots instead."

I thought my reply would just take him aback. But, instead of surprising him, I shocked him, making his jaw drop. After a second or two staring at me, he managed to mutter:

"You… what?"

He let his guard down for a short time, but it was enough for me. I took that chance, ducked under his outstretched arm and passed the ball to the other Joe. Sending me a quick smirk, Liebgott ran towards the hoop and scored again.

"So, you prefer boots to high heels, dance Irish jigs and you're a red-head?" George asked, jogging past me. Judging by the stunned look on his face, he must have heard my conversation with Toye. "Holy cow, Malark! What's your sister doing here?"

I placed a hand on my hip with a chuckle. However, before I could say anything in return, a sudden shout reached my ears.

"Jess! Incoming!"

Not giving me time to blink, the ball landed straight into my hands. A second later, I was already running towards the hoop. After I avoided Bill, I locked my gaze on the ring on the wall and prepared to score. But, I barely raised my hands when something large ran into me. It seemed as if I had collided with an entire hill. Whatever that was, it knocked me off my feet and I slumped on the concrete.

"Aw, Miss…" The giant of a bloke leaned over me, with guilt emerging on his face. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean that… are ya okay?"

"I… I think so."

He reached towards me and I grasped his hand. To my astonishment, he brought me back to my feet in one easy pull, as if I were lighter than a feather.

"Aye, I'm all right", I added. Hand on heart, my backside hurt pretty much. But, this wasn't the time, nor place for telling the truth. "You don't have to worry, Mr… what's your name?"

"Denver", he replied, making be blink. Did that bloke just blush in front of me? "My name's Denver. But, they all call me Bull."

"Okay… Bull."

I tried not to show how much I was confused. He could certainly carry both my sister and me with one hand. However, he was also an incredibly shy person. And I thought those two things can never be combined…

Dusting off my shirt, I took my old position and the game was quickly continued. This time, I had to run to the hoop again, in order to stop Toye from reaching the ball. But, when I stood in front of him, spreading my arms as much as I could, something caught my eye. A tall silhouette had appeared on one end of the street and it was slowly approaching us. It was actually a bloke in a uniform, similar to ones Gene and Bill were wearing.

As he came closer, I began frowning again. Although I had never seen him before, I noticed that something wasn't quite right. His long face seemed serious, almost solemn, while his shoulders were strangely tense.

"Lads, who's that?", I asked.

Toye turned around, following my gaze. And then his smirk vanished.

"Shit…", he muttered, "It's Winters."

Winters? Oh, that helped me a lot. In the meantime, the stranger finally came and stopped near the hoop. My eyes widened slightly when I saw his hair. It had the same red shade as Malarkey's and mine. And, if I wasn't mistaking with the bars, that bloke in front of us was actually a lieutenant.

"We have to get back to the barracks", he said. His ice-blue eyes looked at each and every one of the lads. But, they somehow avoided me. "It's time."

I had no idea what that meant. On the other hand, those words made all six lads stop in their tracks. George dropped the ball, which slowly rolled over the pavement. What was even weirder, nobody even thought about getting it back. They just let it move on, until it hit a wall of a house and stopped.

"This is it, sir?", Bill asked, suddenly serious.

The lieutenant nodded. "Yeah. It is."

Without any other explanation, he turned around and walked away, leaving the lads in complete silence.

What just happened? Searching for an answer, I gazed at the lads. The expression they had were enough to send shivers down my spine. Within seconds, they had become so pale that it scared me. Don was the one who looked the worst – his face seemed almost grey in the sunlight, while his freckles became much more prominent. The once cheerful Irishman from the pub, who had danced a jig with me, was long gone now.

"Don?" I approached him and waved a little, hoping to grab his attention. "Donald, what's going on?"

The answer eventually came from Liebgott. He gave me a long and surprisingly dark look, before he muttered:

"We're jumpin', Jess."

At first, I didn't quite understand him. However, it didn't last long when I spotted the eagle sewn on his sleeve, with the word "airborne" right below. That was when the answer gave me a hard jolt. In a paratrooper's language, the word "jump" had an entirely different meaning. I swallowed thickly, staring at Joe's solemn brown eyes.

They were about to be sent across the Channel.

And some of them might never come back.

XXX

They left Aldbourne the same day.

After some time spent in silence, the lads had picked up their things and dashed out of the street. I didn't have a chance to say a word to them, let alone to say goodbye. They simply left, while their troubled thoughts went after them in hot pursuit.

Even Eugene and Ralph had disappeared. When I returned to the Aid station, I found the front door locked and the blackout curtains drawn over the windows. But, one window wasn't entirely covered. I took a peek through it and discovered that the rooms had been emptied. The shelves had nothing on them, while the cots were covered with sheets, so that they wouldn't collect dust.

They were all gone.

The following days, the rest of the Yanks also moved out, while an odd silence fell upon the village like a shroud. Both pubs weren't as loud as before and the streets weren't full of rumbling vehicles and shouting. It took me a few minutes to recall that Aldbourne was always quiet like this. But, I have to admit that I felt strange. After more than a year of putting up with the Americans in the neighbourhood, I somehow got used to them.

However, I was now reminded that they weren't here to stay for good.

"Do you miss that Bill bloke?"

I quickly looked over my shoulder. Neve was sitting behind me with a puzzled look.

"If I said 'no', you'd know that I'd lied", I said.

She slowly nodded. "That's a nice answer."

With a short and a bit forced smile, I turned around again and continued working in our garden. Rolling my sleeves up to my elbows, I grasped a plant in front of me. And then I pulled it out of the ground, revealing the round potatoes below.

I was about to chuck it in the nearby basket when my hand shuddered. The potatoes shook with it, letting small chunks of earth fall off it.

Shit… I held the plant tighter, so that it wouldn't fall out of my hand.

"Jessica, what's going on with you?", Neve asked in concern.

"Nothing… it's nothing."

I wanted to say something assuring to her, but that didn't go so well. The truth was that I was afraid. I was afraid of what might happen to Bill, once he got on the other side of the Channel.

"Jesus…" Neve sat in the dirt beside me and took my other hand. "Jess, things might not be that bad. They might get lucky out there." She went quiet for a few moments before she asked: "Hey, have you talked to Bill after those news?"

I shook my head. "I didn't have time. He just stormed off with the others."

"So, that's it? He just leaves like that, while you stay behind?"

"It looks like it."

Neve scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sake!"

"And what do you want me to do?"

"You can go to Upottery and see him. And talk to him!"

I quietly sighed. "Neve, you know that's impossible…"

She frowned at me, as if I had disappointed her. "Why do you say that?"

Bloody hell… I did my best to keep my temper under control, but that wasn't so easy to do.

"Because the airfield will be timing with Yanks, waiting to fly across the Channel", I replied, frowning back at her, "Do you get it now, Neve? There'll be hundreds and hundreds of men. Not people, but blokes. When they see a lass like me sneaking among them, they'll kick me out and send me back in no time."

"But, if you make it to the airfield somehow…", Neve insisted.

"And even if I make it, where could I possibly find Bill?"

"Don't be so pessimistic, Jess!" Not taking her eyes off me, my sister smiled again. For some reason, she wasn't worried about this. "What you need now is intelligence. And I know exactly where you can find it."

One of my eyebrows begun rising in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"It's simple, isn't it?" She tilted her head a bit. "Call Lieutenant Nixon."

"Nixon?" I almost burst into laughter at that thought. "And where could I find him? Should I stroll to their HQ and just knock on the front door or…?"

I trailed off when she picked up her old notebook. As I gazed at it, she almost shoved it in my hands. That was when I saw a group of numbers written on the front. I thought they were random and that they didn't mean anything, until it dawned on me. I was barely aware that my mouth became half-open. Christ, tell me this isn't his…

"I know that he didn't leave Aldbourne yet", Neve explained, "He's still in his billet. That's the Green's house, by the church. And this thing here…" She tapped the notebook in my grasp. "…this is their phone number. By the way, you're welcome."

I slowly moved my gaze to her, as my bewilderment turned into complete disbelief. In the meantime, Neve sniggered and placed her hand on my fingers, making them squeeze the notebook tighter.

"Well, don't just gawp like that!", she said, "Call him!"

XXX

The Upottery airfield was so crowded, that I had to elbow my way a few times. Men seemed to be everywhere I looked, walking around or sitting on the runway and talking to each other. Some of them were packing pieces of equipment, which were laid out on the concrete in front of them. But, luckily, none of them paid attention to me so far. They didn't even look in my direction while I was weaving through Easy Company.

You are probably wondering how that was possible. Well, there was only one way I could stroll here without drawing attention – and that was disguising myself as one of them. Nobody would suspect a skinny private carrying letters and parcels from the States. I knew that was more than just risky, but Nixon and I had no time to think of something better. I needed to talk to Bill and this was my ticket to the airfield.

Okay, here goes nothing… I had to raise the edge of my helmet a little, so that I could see the words on the first envelope. Springfield, Ohio.

I swallowed hard as I picked up the letter. And then I shouted in the deepest Yank accent I could make:

"Sergeant Martin…!" I stopped for a moment to clear my throat. Hopefully, my voice would sound hoarser now. "Sergeant Martin!"

A stern faced bloke approached and took the letter from me. Thank goodness, he didn't suspect anything. While he moved away, I decided to try my luck. Clutching the next letter and using it as a prop, I shouted:

"Sergeant Guarnere!"

"Over here!"

A hand suddenly appeared above the lads' heads. After some manoeuvring through the crowd, I saw my Philly friend sitting on the runway and preparing his gear.

To tell you the truth, if I hadn't heard his voice, I would have barely recognised him. His face, smeared in dark camouflage paint, was probably one of the reasons.

"Gimme the damn letter, kid", he ordered, not even looking at me.

I didn't move. I kept standing in the same spot, waiting for him to look up. However, he only glanced at the tips of my boots before he lashed out at me:

"What the fuck are ya standin' here for? Where's me mail?"

"Jesus, William! Is that a way to talk to me?"

He moved his gaze up and glared at me. But, that look lasted only for a second. As soon as he recognised me, his furious expression switched into confusion, and then into pure disbelief. I sat down beside him while he opened his mouth, trying to say something. I had to wait for a bit until he managed to say:

"What the… how the hell did ya…?"

"Let's just say that I know a good intelligence officer", I said quietly, cutting him off, "And I have a sister to match." I let out a short sigh at the thought. "By the way, Nixon was kind enough to give me a lift."

He kept staring at me. "That crazy son of a… what if they figure you out?"

"Unless someone stops, stares at my neck and starts searching for an Adam's apple, I think I'll be all right, Bill."

"What if they see your hair?"

"I tied it well enough." I patted the top of my helmet. "Nothing will peek under this thing. Now, what was all that swearing about?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned around and continued preparing his gear. However, he didn't seem focused on that task. He kept fumbling with his things as he packed them. Wherever his thoughts had gone, they were in a place far from Upottery in England.

"Shakespeare?" In a much lower voice, I added: "What's wrong?"

"I got a letter this mornin'", he replied bitterly, frowning more than I had ever seen him. But, his gaze remained fixed on the ground and his gear. He almost seemed as if he was avoiding my eyes. "It's about me brother… Henry." He sighed, hesitating for a while. And then he added: "He's gone."

"Gone?"

"Killed somewhere in Monte Casino."

I swallowed a lump in my throat when he looked at me again. There were no tears, but I could see the despair on his ashen face. I saw how angry he was, as well. His dark eyes seemed to be burning with fury, while his jaw was clenched hard. He soon turned back to his things, struggling to be composed for the upcoming flight. However, his every move was telling me the opposite thing. He wasn't calm. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he was in pain.

"Where the fuck is Monte Casino?", he asked, breaking the silence.

"In Italy."

"Goddamn it…"

I wished to wrap and arm around his shoulders, to hug him. But, that would look more than awkward to his friends. All I could do was lean closer and whisper:

"I'm sorry for your loss, Bill."

He slowly shook his head. "Don't be. Be sorry for my ma. He…"

All of a sudden, he went quiet and looked somewhere in front of him. Glancing in the same direction, I spotted two officers approaching. They walked right past us, talking to each other in low, serious voices. The moment they vanished from sight, Bill shifted his gaze to me.

"You'd better go."

Good idea. Scrambling back to my feet, I looked around, hoping that I didn't cause much suspicion. I sighed a little when I saw that nobody was eyeing me. Picking up the rest of the letters and parcels, I stole one more glance at Bill.

"Be careful", I said.

"I will." He gave me a slap on the back. "Go, now. Go!"

He didn't have to tell me again. In the quickest steps I could make, without appearing strange, I went down the runway. On the other end of it, a huge fence was peering in the distance. The guarded gate there was my exit. If I kept walking this fast, I could reach it in a few minute. The clueless guards would let me pass and I could finally make my way back to Aldbourne.

Okay, Jess, just keep your head down and nobody will notice you. And don't forget to walk. Telling that to myself, I kept moving among the gathered lads, until I eventually bumped into something. Or someone.

"Sorry", I muttered in the thickest accent I could think of. I raised my chin, so that I could see the person I had collided with. "Oh, bloody hell…"

Eugene Roe gawked at me with wide eyes. "Jesus Christ…"

Oh, shit, he saw me. Pretending that I didn't know what he meant, I tried to dash past him. But, that was when he grasped my arm, making me stop.

"Whaddya doin' here?", he whispered, with bewilderment written over his features, "What da hell is this?"

"It's a long story."

He came closer, so that his eyes were not far from mine. "You wanna get arrested?"

"Of course I don't want to!", I replied as quietly as I could, "But, I had a good reason to stop by here."

"It must be a damn good one."

"It is."

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "That ain't a smart move, you know."

I shrugged. "Frankly, I don't care."

"I can see that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't explain me anything, because a familiar rumbling came somewhere from behind us. I turned around and saw a greenish Jeep stopping nearby. It didn't last long when the man behind the wheel climbed on the hood. Just like the lads around him, his face was also covered with lines of dark paint.

Eugene didn't have to tell me who it was. The sheer way that man was standing, with his back as straight as a flagpole, I assumed he was one of those in charge.

"EASY COMPANY!", he bellowed, making my heart skip a beat, "LISTEN UP!"

Gene gave my shoulder a squeeze, while the other paratroopers from Easy gathered around the Jeep. Some of them were tall enough to hide me from the commander's view. However, I couldn't move now. I was too close. If I ran away at this second, I would surely be discovered. I had to listen to the announcement and wait until that bloke drove off.

"The Channel coast is socked with rain and fog. High winds on the drop zone." The man on the Jeep glanced at us, before he added even louder: "No jump tonight!"

As he emphasized the last three words, Eugene's grip on my shoulder disappeared. Meanwhile, I bit my lip harder than ever, waiting for my chance to get out of here.

"The invasion has been postponed! We're on a 24-hour stand-down!"

Without a single warning, silence engulfed the entire runway.

Nobody moved. Nobody even blinked. In that second, I could have sworn that I didn't hear a fly. And then one of the lads shouted something in disappointment, breaking the spell around us. In the meantime, the others looked at each other, not saying anything. But, that was when the commander shouted again.

"Easy Company, I have ONE MORE ANNOUNCEMENT to make!"

This time, the lads begun whispering and murmuring to each other. Nobody had a clue what he was going to say. Eugene sent me a confused look, but I could only shrug.

"The co-pilot assigned to the second platoon…" The man took out a piece of paper and glanced at it. "…H. Roberts… won't be flying with us! But, we'll have a replacement."

Joe Liebgott, who was standing near Eugene and me, swore under his breath. He chucked his cigarette on the concrete, while the man on the Jeep continued:

"I've heard that he's experienced and I'm sure that the men on his plane will be in good hands."

Somebody in front raised his hand. "Is that co-pilot from the States, sir?"

"No, he's British. His name is J. M. Prichard."

At that moment, I almost forgot to breathe.

Those were my initials.

That was my name.