Ladies and gentlemen, hello again! :)

I'm back, this time with a small surprise – I uploaded a new story! :) If there are some Supernatural fans hidden over here, it would be wonderful if you checked out my one-shot. It's called "The Man in the Chapel". I would be very happy to hear what you think about this. ;)

And now – back to the BoB territory. ;) But, before we start, I have to say a few words to these lovely people: beth-rodrigues.77 (Hi! Denham made quite a surprise for Jess, didn't he? And there is the blackmail... honestly, I felt bad while writing that part. Jess deserves some justice after all this time. But, things are about to change very soon. Expect a few twists coming this way – one of them is waiting near the end of the chapter. ;) Thank you for your kind words! :) ), Cayendoenelolvido (Thank you! I really hope the next chapter won't be disappointing. :) ), FallynAshe (Hello again! Something good will happen in the future, I promise. Just be a little bit more patient. In the meantime, Denham won't be having any "accidents", but Jess will have a big surprise at the end. You'll find that out very soon. ;) By the way, thank you for the review! :) ) and Amanda (Hi! I'm so happy that you're back! And I'm glad that you liked the recent instalments. Thank you! :) Don't worry, I'll keep writing – and I'll do my best to update a bit sooner next time. ;) ). Thank you so much for your constant support!

Also, many thanks to AllieRoexxx, Portrait of a Scribe, SilverMistKunoichi, sara-reyntiens, Lysiann and Momokeito who decided to favourite/follow this story in the meantime! You're amazing!

And one more thing... the characters will be swearing a bit more this time. I apologise in advance.

Another note (26/03/2015): I found out that I had some typos, so I re-posted this chapter. Hopefully, it will be better now. ;)

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 Thirty-Seven: Rendezvous With Hades

I thought that I was done with this place.

But, Holland was thinking differently.

Stopping dead in my tracks, I propped my arm against the nearby fence. It protested with a creak when I added my full weight on it. Yet, I didn't look down. My eyes were fixed on something else entirely. A few derelict farmhouses were lying in a small cluster, not too far from the road. At first glance, they seemed to be abandoned for a while. However, when I spotted tiny olive silhouettes walking among them, a cold chill started to crawl up my spine.

I shuddered. That's the Island, all right.

Yet, no reprimands would be waiting for me there. Although I deserved getting court-martialled for what I had done, my slate would be wiped clean instead. Denham had assured me of that. He would say that I had been on a classified mission, sanctioned by him – and that was why I had to disappear for a few days. Since nobody would doubt this, things would go on as usual. Nothing would change. Denham would be at the CP, behind his desk, while I would jump back into the fire.

But, that wasn't the reason why my hands kept shaking.

"She'll be taken cared of. Don't you worry about that." Even though days had passed, Denham's voice still sounded clear in my head. "I know a nice family she can stay with until you get back. The folks ain't so bad. If you met them, you'd probably like them, too."

I didn't find out where that was. All I knew was that I couldn't wriggle my way off the line again – because that would mean putting Neve's life at risk. Denham had me by the short hairs this time. And, unfortunately, he wasn't planning to let go that soon.

Taking a deep breath, I let go off the fence and moved away. I kept walking, dragging my feet along the boggy grass by the road, until I reached the nearest farmhouse. That had to be the place. They had told me to look for a sagging roof and a half-demolished porch. I grasped the dirty knob and pushed the door, letting it slowly swing open.

The house was empty. Yet, someone had been there recently. Entire patches of dust were missing from the furniture, as if somebody had been sitting in those spots. Traipsing to one of them, I plonked myself on a rickety chair in the corner. Now I just had to wait for someone to come. That wouldn't be too long. Letting out a deep, shaky sigh, I leaned back until my head rested against the wall.

"Is it really that hard to give me a few names?" I could almost see Denham looking at me in disapproval. He frowned and slowly shook his head. "Really, Prichard, what are you thinking right now? I thought you liked Neve a bit more than some band of farm boys."

"Go to hell."

Unclenching my right hand in my lap, I took a closer look at my fingers. My nails were broken and my knuckles were raw and sore from the last time I had put up a fight. I tried to open and close my fist, wincing when my gashes stung. I swallowed hard and turned my head away, doing my best to think about it.

That was when I realised that I wasn't alone.

I hadn't hear him enter. However, I saw his long shadow close to my feet. He must have been a few steps away.

"Holy… Jess?" Whoever he was, he bolted towards me. I blinked when no other than Mike appeared before my eyes. With his hands on his knees, he leaned closer, staring at me in utter bewilderment. "What on earth are you–"

He didn't make it to the end. Instead, he trailed off with no warning, while his eyes widened. Everything seemed still for a few long seconds. But, then he gulped and shattered the silence between us.

"What happened?"

I didn't answer. He swore under his breath. After a quick glance around, he grabbed the first vacant chair he had seen. He jerked it closer with a creak, before he sat right in front of me.

"Jess." His voice was low, yet concerned. There might have been some urgency, as well. Since I still didn't say a thing, his hand moved up to my shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "Jess, come on. Talk to me."

There was nothing I could do but stare at him. And so I did just that. This dusty place, the two of us standing in the middle of it – it all seemed surreal. I had a feeling as if I were in some disturbing dream. A tiny part of me hoped that I would snap out of it at any minute.

"It's all right", he said quietly. Something in his voice trembled – or perhaps that was my imagination. "You can tell me. You know that, yeah?" Furrowing his brow, he tilted his head to the side. "Jess? Can you hear me?"

I started to feel strangely numb.

"He… he found me."

Mike was silent for a moment. "What?"

"He found me."

He seemed almost stunned. His eyebrows almost scrunched together. But, before he managed to ask anything, a voice behind us chimed in:

"Sullivan? What's goin' on here?"

I flinched, yet I didn't turn around to see who it was. I didn't want to. Perhaps I didn't care about it, either. I wrapped my unscathed arm around me, hoping that would take some of the coldness away. In the meantime, Mike craned his neck to get a better look at the newcomer.

"I think she's hurt", he said, "Where's Roe?"

There was a short pause. "I'll get 'im. You stay with her."

Mike nodded to the stranger. As I listened to the person's steps running away, he picked up his canteen and handed it to me. But, I didn't move my gaze from his face. The expression he had now was more than concerning. Whatever he was seeing, it was almost scaring him stiff.

"Do I look that bad?", I asked hoarsely.

"Well…" He shortly hesitated. And then he shrugged. "You've seen better days."

So, it IS bad. I took the canteen from him and tried to open it. However, my hands were shaking too damn much. My fingers were hardly listening. They couldn't get a proper grip on the cap, let alone twist it open. After some time struggling with it, I let out a quiet groan, cursing myself for being so weak.

Don't shake. Please don't shake now. Please… Focusing as hard as I could, I wrapped my thumb and index finger around the cap. But, then my hand twitched. Without a warning, my fingers slid down, leaving me with nothing again. Fuck.

"Wait. Allow me." Mike took the canteen and unscrewed the cap for me. Yet, before he returned it, his lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He seemed as if he was finding it hard to say something.

"What is it?", I asked.

"What happened out there?"

Something in my chest tightened. I would rather shove those memories somewhere in the back of my head, where I would never be able to reach them again. However, I had to tell him. I had to – there was no other choice. My hand clenched in my lap, fisting the fabric of my trousers. I didn't care that my fingernails were painfully digging into my knee.

I only hoped that he wouldn't hate me after this.

"When Denham found me… he… he…" My voice started breaking. I took a small sip, doing my best not to spill the water all over the place. "He… he told me… to…"

Oh, crap. As seconds ticked, everything was becoming too much, too hard. I tried to take another sip and pull myself together fast. But, the canteen didn't reach my lips. Instead, it slipped through my grasp. I soon heard it clatter loudly against the floorboards. However, I didn't give it a second glance.

"I think I'm gonna puke", I muttered.

"Shit..." Mike scooted to me and placed his hand on my back. "Take a deep breath, all right? It's gonna be–"

"He told me to rat you lads out."

He stared at me. But, he shook his head in the next moment, with a wobbly smile appearing on his face.

"I'm sorry, I must be half-deaf from all the shooting. You didn't really mention 'ratting out', did you?"

And now you've done it. I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds just to steel myself. There was no way for me to stop now.

"Denham told me to make a choice. It was either Neve… or you lads. H-he knows that some of you helped me t-to escape. Since I… since I was spending most of my time with you, well… you know." I waved my hand around. "He connected the dots. But, he d-doesn't have the foggiest who it was, and…"

By the time I was struggling with the sentence, Mike backed away slightly. This time, he didn't seem horrified. His wide eyes held the coldest possible stare. At the sheer sight of that, the lump in my throat became as twice as large.

"Please, Michael, don't look at me like that! Please! You… you've got to understand."

"Understand what?", he asked harshly.

"He had Neve at gunpoint! If I… if I hadn't done what he asked, I would have to s-scrape her b-brain off the wall! Do you get it now?"

His face turned a few shades paler. "You mean…"

"I'm so sorry, Mike." Only then did I realise that my breath was shaking, too. "I'm s-so terribly s-sorry!"

Not knowing what else to say, nor what to do, I raked my fingers through my hair. In the meantime, he gazed at the floor at his feet, which was dark from the spilt water. I could see the muscle in his jaw clenching.

"So, that's it." He quietly cleared his throat before looking back at me. That was when he asked: "When are the MP's coming for us?"

I blinked in confusion. "What? They're not–"

All of a sudden, I was cut off by a clamour. It was coming from the other side of the nearby window. Actually, whatever was going on, it was just outside the farmhouse. I tensed up, tipping my head towards the source of the noise. There was at least one Jeep standing on the village road – its loud rumbling was unmistakable. And someone whose voice I couldn't recognise was barking out orders. While it became louder, I sank my teeth into my lower lip. Holy smoke. They've already come.

"Wait here."

The moment Mike said that, he stood up and rushed through the door behind me. I didn't mind that. If he asked me to come with him, I would have said "no". I wasn't sure if I could take it once saw what was happening on the other side. Instead, I wrapped my arm tighter around me and nestled my head back against the wall.

For a while, the house was quiet. It might have been like that for a couple of minutes. Or maybe it was more – I didn't quite know. However, that changed when someone barged into the living room.

Mike was back, but he didn't come alone. Whoever was with him came first, skidding to the chair next to mine. The second I saw his worried face, my stomach knotted itself in fear. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't see any of this happening.

"I found her like this a few minutes ago", Mike said, "She's been like this since then, shaking like a bloody leaf."

Gene curtly nodded, snapping out of his reverie. He shifted his gaze to me,

"How are you feelin'?", he asked, "Anythin' hurt?"

Taking another deep breath to get rid of the nausea, I shifted on my spot. I let him see my arm, which I had been cradling against my chest. He carefully took it in his grasp and frowned, noticing the condition of my knuckles. But, his frown deepened when the long gash on my forearm caught his eye. He pulled out a bandage out of his bag and pressed it against the gash. I hissed through my teeth in pain.

"Sorry. But, that's gonna need stitches." His gaze then moved up to me. I could see that he had plenty of questions to ask. But, he only chose this one: "Anythin' else hurt?"

I shook my head.

"You sure, Jess?"

This time, I nodded. Gene said something, maybe about me going to the Aid station, yet I didn't catch the rest of it. The clamour from outside had quickly become louder than before. The voice that had been bellowing orders was now joined with more voices. One of them seemed distant, but the way it sounded was giving a clear message. Someone out there was begging. I suddenly felt the urge to chuck up again.

Jessica, what have you done?

"What's goin' on out dere?", Gene asked, tying the bandage around my arm.

I turned my head slightly and looked at Mike. Saying that he was baffled would be an understatement.

"The MP's are here", he said, "Two blokes have been arrested."

Gene sent him a surprised look. "Why?"

"I dunno. But, it has to be be something serious."

"I can t-tell you what that is", I said.

In a heartbeat, two pairs of eyes, one blue and one dark brown, abruptly moved in my direction. I swallowed hard again. Mike rolled his eyes.

"You don't say." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you share that with the rest of the class?"

"Denham wanted names", I said, "Well… I gave him names."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Mike gawped at me.

"You what? But, I… I thought you gave him ours!"

I scoffed. "Is that what you think of me, Mike? A bloody s-snitch?"

"But, those lads weren't involved in what we did!"

"Don't y-you think I know that?" I shifted my gaze to Gene. Judging by his expression, he was equally bewildered as Mike. "Oh, come on! I did what I had to. Would you r-rather have yourselves and J-Joe under arrest? With Bill in tow?"

Mike frowned. "And Denham believed that? How?"

"He saw me talking with them a few times. I…" I bit my lip harder. "I traded my s-smokes for their… chocolate rations. Anyway, you remember when Joe slipped s-something into Denham's drink?"

"Of course I do", he said in a low voice, "That was my idea!"

"Those two were on guard duty… at the CP that day. When Denham was inside his office. So, I reckoned…" I shrugged. "I could use them."

My stomach lurched in disgust. What I had done was despicable. It might have been unforgiving, as well. However, it was also necessary. The two privates would never end up suspicious in Denham's eyes. This could sound soulless, but I had an enormous problem on my hands – and they were a perfect solution. As for Mike, Gene, Joe and Bill, Denham would forget about them. He wouldn't think of them as culprits, but merely as decoys for the real thing. Huh. He might even believe that I'm smart.

"Holy shit", Mike muttered.

"I couldn't let them take you blokes away."

As I said that, I looked straight at Gene again. When realisation finally kicked in, he seemed to be in complete disbelief. But, there was something else in his eyes. There was disapproval, some disappointment, and perhaps even pity. I gulped at the thought. Out of all things I loathed, pity was the last one I needed today.

However, I would appreciate one thing.

"Gene, do you have some strong drink in that bag?"

XXX

The wind had stopped somewhere in the afternoon. However, the same couldn't be said about the cold. It had never left the place. I soon caught myself rubbing my hands to get them warm – even though I was indoors. While I blew in my palms, in hope that my breath would speed things up a bit, I turned slightly and glanced over my shoulder.

Gene was asleep in a nearby bed, exhausted after a long shift at the Aid station. He was lying on his back, propped against his rucksack, so that he could take some pressure of his ribs. As I watched, a pinched expression appeared on his face. He muttered something in his sleep before turning his head away. I faintly smiled at that.

Eugene, eh? Neve smirked in my memory, raising her eyebrows. That was when she shrugged. Well, as long as he isn't the snoring type, we'll get along just fine.

I suddenly cringed. Unlike Gene, who was within my reach, I didn't have a clue where she was. But, what really made my chest tighten was that I knew absolutely nothing – and that I had no way to find out the answers. The thought was slowly eating away at me, almost like acid. As far as I knew, she might be curled up in a corner somewhere, alone and scared…

Shit. I clenched my hands into fists, trying to get that image out of my head. She had to be all right. She had to – because I had no idea what I would do if she wasn't.

"Mmmh…" Gene murmured something under his breath, this time fisting the blanket in his hands. I turned around and got back to warming up my hands. But, then I had to do a double take, because he let out a groan from the bed.

"Gene?"

I got to my feet and approached his bed. However, just as I knelt beside him, dread started to slowly pool in the pit of my stomach. Gene was still asleep, yet he was sweating profusely under his blanket. By the way, he was almost wheezing.

"N-no...", he groaned, "No... Jess..."

Something clenched in my chest. He was having a nightmare. I grasped his arm and gave it a gentle shake, so as to wake him up.

"Shhh. Gene, open your eyes."

It didn't help. He squirmed under my hand, clenching the blanket tighter in his grasp. That was when his quiet whimpers stopped, only to be replaced by shouting.

"No... p-please... PLEASE!"

"Come on, Gene! Wake up! WAKE UP!"

That jolted him into the present. His eyes cracked open before he spluttered and coughed. He tried to push himself up, but he groaned halfway in pain and pressed his hand against his side. I swiftly got up and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, hey... stop." I placed my hand on his shoulder, hoping that he wouldn't move further. "It's okay. It was just a bad dream."

He looked at me with bloodshot, almost terrified eyes. But, he got his bearings back because, after some time, he nodded and slowly relaxed under my touch. I gave him a gentle nudge, willing him to lie back down.

"It's okay", I coaxed, shortly cupping his cheek with one hand, "Try not to move."

Having glanced around, I spotted a clean dishcloth nearby and grabbed it. I wetted the fabric with some cold water from Gene's canteen. Hopefully, this should do the trick. I moved Gene's hand away from his side before delicately pulling his shirt up.

Oh, crap. Even though he had left the field hospital more than a week ago, the bruises still marred his left side. I almost gagged. Dark blue, nearly black bruises were peering from under his bandages and covering most of his skin. Merely looking at that was downright terrifying. Clenching my jaw hard - and silently praying not to throw up on him - I placed the cold dishcloth against his ribs.

Gene squirmed again and coughed. But, thank goodness, that wasn't for long. A few minutes later, his pinched expression faded away and his breathing started to even.

"Better?", I asked.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he simply moved his hand down and rested it over mine, which was still holding the cloth. I shrugged. Perhaps that was some sort of a "yes". Letting him take charge of the dishcloth, I reached out to move a few strands of his hair from his forehead. However, I didn't make it, because something had stolen my attention. Frowning slightly, I looked in another direction.

Gene's left hand, which I had just let go, was covered in reddish stains. Actually, it wasn't just his hand. It was his wrist, as well. Even his jacket sleeve, rolled up to his elbow, had dark blotches on it. It looked as if he had spilt paint over his arm and let it dry off.

Yet, what I was looking at definitely wasn't paint.

Dear God. I gulped. Something had happened. Something bad.

Gene must have seen what I was staring at, because he said something. It was a name, so quiet that I had to lean closer in order to hear it.

"It's Alley."

Alley? Hold on... I pursed my lips, trying to place that name somewhere. And then, in one second it clicked into place. He was one of Liebgott's friends. But, that was pushed out of my mind when I looked back at Gene's jacket sleeve, covered in caked blood. That doesn't look good.

"There was an ambush", he said, "Liebgott brought 'im in."

Oh, no. "Is he -"

"He'll live. But, he... there was so much blood." When he looked at me again, his eyes seemed different. They were almost haunted. He swallowed thickly and loud enough for me to hear it. "I... I never knew there would be so much."

I stared at him, lost for words. For as long as I could remember, Gene had always been the composed one here. He was the one who would make the others pull themselves together - including me. Seeing him clammed up and afraid like this was enough for my skin to crawl.

Doing my best not to look scared, too, I carded my fingers through his sweaty hair. In the meantime, he said nothing. But, he kept gazing at me, not moving his eyes even for a moment.

"How do you manage dat?"

I blinked. "Manage what?"

"How did Denham believe yo trick?"

A sigh whooshed between my lips. Frankly, I didn't want to talk about it. However, at this moment, I didn't have too many options to choose from.

"He tried to use Neve to get answers from me." Struggling not to think about that, I focused on what my fingers were doing. "Well, it was working. I- I guess I was scared. I've never shaken so badly in my life." I shrugged. "Anyway, he knew that I wouldn't stay quiet. But, he didn't expect that I could lie."

There was a hint of surprise in Gene's look. Meanwhile, I felt slightly queasy. I should probably pick up the pace and finish this soon.

"I had a chance to gamble. I wanted to take it and I did... and it paid off." Pressing my lips, I glanced at the cracked wall next to me. And then I looked back at him. "What does that make me, Eugene?"

"What you did was brave." He paused for a moment. "Maybe a bit crazy, too. But, it was brave."

"Really?" I scoffed. "I stabbed two lads in the back. Lads whom I barely knew. And I risked my family's life, because I was scared. Whatever that is, is surely isn't brave."

"I wish I could do dat."

I was on the verge of a chuckle. Yet, once I noticed the look on his face, I forgot about that. Jesus. He really is serious.

"When things get tough, you focus. You come up with somethin' when others can't even think right." He glanced at the ceiling, slightly lost in thought. "I'd like to push things aside like dat. To forget about 'em, even for a minute, you know?"

"Yeah." I sadly smiled. "I know."

Moving my hand, I gently stroked his cheek. That was when he asked:

"What does yo sister say?"

"She... she doesn't know." I hesitated for some time. "Do you think she'll forgive me? For what I did?"

"How many things do you hide from her?"

"About the war, you mean? Almost everything."

He was quiet for a while. "I think you should keep dis to yourself, too."

I nodded. Maybe he was right. Who knew what would happen if I confessed this to her. My chances of being forgiven would be slightly above nill - or perhaps just nill. Anyway, it was very likely that she would despise me. Keeping this secret to myself might be for the best. Even though it wasn't making me feel any better.

"Did I miss something while I was away?", I asked, trying to lighten the mood for a bit.

"Someone was here a few days ago." For some reason, Gene's look became even more sullen than it already was. "A British colonel, I think."

"What?" I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"A few men of his are trapped on the other side of da river. The brass wants to send a rescue party into Kraut territory, to go get 'em. They called it 'Operation Pegasus'." A bitter smile found its way on his face. "Pegasus. Imagine dat."

"Do you know who's going?"

"Malarkey, Sullivan, Luz, Randleman..." Every time he mentioned a name, I could feel something in my stomach twisting harder. On the other hand, his voice was gradually becoming lower, until it was barely louder than a whisper. "There's gonna be seventeen of 'em. The last one's gonna be a medic."

I froze.

"That one's me, Jess."

No. There's no bloody way. I shook my head slowly, and then faster, hoping like anything that Gene had heard it all wrong. This had to be some mistake. Yet, his eyes were telling me a completely different story. The sheer way he was looking at me made me shiver.

Mary, mother of Jesus... "When?"

"T'night. After midnight."

With an inaudible sigh, Gene turned his head away. However, his free hand appeared from under the blanket. He reached for my wrist and grasped it. His hold wasn't too tight to be painful, yet it was strong enough to stop me from moving from the bed.

I took a deep breath, pushing back the tears that were welling up. I wanted him to be here for me. I wished he was the one telling me that everything would be all right. However, he couldn't, because he had his own troubles to worry about. Instead of accomplishing the "Pegasus", he could easily end up on a rendezvous with Hades himself.

It hit me that he wasn't entirely fearless, or invincible. In the end, he was just a man. He was afraid. And he needed me now, perhaps even more than I needed him.

I thought of giving him a hug. That used to help. Yet, I almost slapped myself over the forehead when I recalled that his ribs were still healing. For the next five to six weeks, that was out of the question. I would have to settle for carding my fingers through his hair again. And I did just that.

Gene slightly leaned his head into my touch. "The Krauts could be anywhere."

I know. "They won't be there."

Frankly, I hadn't the foggiest if that was true. The Germans could be already waiting on the other side of the river while I was saying this. But, I didn't dare to say that out loud. In spite of everything, I had to make him believe in my words. Come to think of it, I had to find a way to believe in that, too. After everything bad that had happened so far, something good had to come this way, right? Right?

"Trust me, Gene. It's going to be okay. Just take deep breaths."

I played with his hair until he drifted back into sleep.

XXX

I took one more glance at my watch and sighed. It was 23:35. In about half an hour, I was supposed to sneak to the barn on the edge of the village to see Gene and the others. Since I wouldn't be in the air above them, at least I should wish them good luck.

The thought of having a smoke crossed my mind. I had nothing better to do, anyway. But, then I recalled that I had no cigarettes to light. I had left my pack on the bed days ago, in that musty room in Manchester, England. My lighter was probably there, as well.

Great. I ran a hand down my face, cursing under my breath. Soon after that, I began drumming my fingers against my knee and glancing around the farmhouse. My gaze moved from the floor and the old furniture, to their wide shadows on the walls. And then something caught my eye. The door to the pantry, which was right next to me, had been left slightly open. To my surprise, it wasn't empty as I had expected. From the spot I was sitting on, I could see a few silhouettes peering from the small shadowy room.

What the… I got up and stepped closer, gently nudging the door with my boot. A moment later, I was staring at shelves packed with small jars. The floor was lined with boxes, coated in dust for who knew how long. Stepping inside, I picked up a smaller box and opened it. It was full of dried flowers.

Who left you here? I squinted at them. They were shrivelled and pale. Actually, as I took a better look, they seemed a bit sad. I pinched a few of them between my fingers and took a small whiff – only to gape in surprise. Their scent wasn't stale at all. It was sweet. Holy smoke.

"If you keep looking at them like that, I might get jealous."

I whirled around. Mike was standing in front of the pantry. He smiled and gave me a mock salute with two fingers.

"Any news for me?", I asked.

"Well, no. If you don't count this." He took a small wad of money out of his pocket and brushed it against his chin with a chuckle. "The lads aren't as good in poker as they keep saying. Especially your friend Liebgott. Maybe I'll have to…" Trailing off, he tilted his head for a bit. "What's that?"

"What's what? Oi!"

I sent him a glare when he barged inside, making me pin myself against the wall. But, he paid no attention. He stepped on his toes and reached for something high on a shelf. However, he recoiled, because the door suddenly slammed shut behind us. And just like that, the room plunged into darkness.

"Thanks, Mike. This was just what I needed."

"Hey, I didn't do this!"

Yeah, yeah... like it isn't your fault. I waved my hand through the nothing, until I finally felt the door knob under my fingers. I have it a push. However, for some reason, the door didn't bulge. I shifted my grip and held the knob tighter before trying again. Still, nothing happened.

"Could you give me a hand?", I asked.

He shuffled beside me. Yet, whatever he tried, it obviously didn't work. No matter how hard he pushed, the door stubbornly refused to open. But, then, as he angrily grunted one more time, my heart skipped a beat. My breath hitched. Is this what I think it is? I really, really hope not...

"Mike? Is the lock jammed?"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. And then Mike whispered:

"Fuck."

"Don't you dare say that! Try kicking it open!"

"I can't even move my leg up, let alone kick something. It's too bloody tight in here!" Mike sighed exasperatedly. "How about you?"

"What do you think?", I countered. I could hardly move an inch, pressed between the icy-cold pantry wall on one side and Mike's chest on the other. It was like being trapped in a giant sandwich. I winced at the thought. "Please, tell me that you can shoot the lock."

Mike let out a short laugh. "With what? A potato?"

"Where's your rifle?"

"Outside."

I blinked in disbelief. "You left it on the other side of the door?"

"Uh… aye."

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"For chrissake, who in his right mind goes armed in a pantry?"

I scoffed and tried to push him away. Yet, there was nowhere we could move. In the end, I caved in, leaned back against the wall and groaned.

All of a sudden, Mike nudged me. He did that a few more times. Soon after that, I heard something flicker. However, before I asked him what he was doing, light appeared. I blinked a couple of times, staring at the lighter that Mike was holding. He had somehow managed to fish it out. Its reddish flame was tiny, but at least we had some sort of light in this place. It was comforting. He moved his hand closer, casting the both of us in a faint glow.

"You're welcome", he said. I gave him a playful smack in the arm. He smirked at me. "By the way, thanks."

"For what?", I asked.

"For not telling Denham about us lads."

He smiled. Although the light was dim, I could still count his freckles. There was a few of them on his cheekbones and a bit over his nose.

"We'll find another way, Flygirl."

Something tightened in my chest. "No way. I'm not listening to that."

"But, I'll keep talking. You know, we can fix this."

"Fix this?" I stared at him. "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm lucky that Denham…" Suddenly remembering where I was, I stopped. If anyone came closer to the door, he could easily hear us. I lowered my voice and whispered: "I'm lucky that he didn't hose Neve and me that day!"

"But, he took her."

"You don't have to remind me." I scowled at him. "My point is – I'm not exactly in good graces with him. Do you have any idea what he'll do if he finds out I'm missing again?"

"He doesn't have to find out. If we thought long and hard enough, we could come up with a way to…"

"Stop it, Mike. Just stop it." I had the urge to move away from him, but the bloody pantry wasn't letting me. I sighed. "We've tried. All right? We've done everything we could. I even made it across the Channel and…" Noticing the odd look on his face, I quickly added: "Don't think that I'll forget that. I'm grateful for what you did for me. I really am. But, we have to let this go."

This time, Mike was the bewildered one. His eyebrows were scrunched, as if he had seen me for the first time.

"So, you're just giving up?", he asked in a low voice, "You of all people? Three weeks ago, you flew behind enemy lines to rescue Randleman and me!"

"I got shot in the process!"

"But, you disobeyed orders, too. You were ready to do even that. And now… what? You want to just keep your head down for the rest of the war?"

"It's called 'accepting a defeat', Michael."

"No. It's called 'bollocks'."

"Please, shut up."

"What Denham did…" His jaw clenched hard in the semi-darkness. "That should be one more reason for you to get up and try again."

"With Neve between the cross-hairs? Are you insane?" I gave him the harshest glare I could muster. "If your family was involved, you'd think very differently. What would you do if you were on my spot, eh?"

He ignored that. His gaze hardened. "This is not over yet."

"And what, pray tell, do you have in mind?"

I raised an eyebrow as I wanted for his grand scheme. However, all I heard from him was something that he hummed. I watched him furrowing his brow and moving his gaze away.

"You don't have a bloody clue, do you?", I asked.

"I'm still thinking!"

"Well, genius, while you're at it, think about this. Imagine that we already have a plan. Everything's running smoothly. Okay? Fine. But, here's the catch – even if we find Neve and escape, we'll have to hide under a rock! Probably for the rest of our lives!"

Mike was silent. I scratched the top of my head, losing my temper fast.

"It would've been much easier if you weren't here."

"Hey, I was the one that…", he began, but I cut him off.

"Exactly! You're always the one that has to leap to my assistance! You even joined the Airborne behind your family's back!"

I didn't fail to miss his serious look. "Jess, I…"

"Do you know how hard that is for me? As the air support here, I'm supposed to look after you lads. The last thing I need is another soul to keep safe, especially you! Every time I can't find you, when I can't see you in the crowd, I almost get a heart-attack!" I jabbed his finger in his chest, adding: "I spend every fucking morning praying that I won't find you dead!"

"What I did was my choice! Nobody else's! And even if something happens, that will never be your fault!"

"Try telling that to your mother. If she got a telegram, she'd roast me alive."

He scoffed. "I'll be fine."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You're one lucky bastard, Sullivan. You said 'no' to the family business and found the job that you'd wanted. You even had a roof over your thick head! But, this is what I don't get. You had things other people could just wish for. Why did you throw all of that away, huh? Why are you here?"

He didn't answer. I grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. His back hit the shelf, causing the jars to rattle.

"Why the hell are you here?", I asked.

Mike gazed at me. However, he didn't answer.

He just leaned instead and closed the gap between us.

His lips were soft. For a moment, I felt the taste of cigarettes and coffee in his breath. That was when he pulled back. He looked at me with wide, hardly blinking eyes, as if he had just snapped out of a daze. But, then that faint, trademark smile of his decided to re-appear. He shrugged and said:

"Well, now you know."

To be continued...