Hello, everyone! I hope you've all had a nice weekend. :)

Also, I hope that you will forgive me for not uploading anything for so long.

I'm terribly, terribly sorry for being AWOL since the end of March. I know that this isn't fair to you as my readers - I should have come back much sooner. But, real life decided to step in again and give me a rough time. I had no other choice but to put this story on hold. :( But, cheer up, everybody. I'm back with a new chapter and, hopefully, it might live up to your expectations.

But, I can't move on to the chapter without saying a few words to these amazing reviewers: beth-rodrigues.77 (I think I've run out of words to describe how thankful I am for your patience and support. :) I mean it. You've been reviewing this story since the very beginning and you haven't given up on me - even when I vanished for months at a time. I want you to know that your kind words mean a lot to me. :) By the way, I'm happy to hear that you liked chapter 37. Jess wouldn't betray the boys just like that, would she? ;) Also, I'm glad that you liked the little "scene" with Mike and Jess. Thank you! They will see each other again in this chapter (twice, actually) - but, that's all I can say without spoiling the surprise... ), Guest 1 (Your wish has come true – the new chapter is finally here! Enjoy! :) ) and Guest 2 (Thank you so much - and welcome to the story! It's always wonderful to discover one more reader on the road. :) By the way, expect more drama and action in the chapters to come, because winter is coming - and so is Bastogne. ;) I've come up with quite a few ideas for that episode...).

Also, best wishes to PurpleDolphinPlush, cs54 and iwouldbesocialbutt for their favourites/follows! :) Thank you so much!

There's one more thing I'd like to say, dear readers. The next chapter will have a small surprise at the end - I'll add the "soundtrack" for The Whole Nine Yards. ;)

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.

And now nothing's saved, nothing's gained

Was it all in vain?

'Cause I'm standing in the eye of the storm

And everything I've known is blowing away...

Theory Of A Deadman – "Hurricane"

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Full Metal Prichard

They say that, in moments like these, it's impossible to feel nothing.

And they were right - I felt as if someone had whacked me on the head with a plank. I opened my mouth and closed it a couple of times, but that was it. There was no way I could utter a single word, let alone something more challenging. I blinked and somehow scrambled back to my senses, only to realise that I was still holding Mike's jacket in a tight grip. I quickly let him go and held my hands up at shoulder level, just in case.

In the meantime, Mike kept gazing at me in silence. I must have had the weirdest possible look on my face, because he soon frowned at me in concern.

"Are you okay?", he asked.

Good question. I awkwardly swallowed, not having the foggiest what to do. One thing was certain, however. I couldn't simply laugh this off and pretend that I was completely fine. I wasn't.

"Shit." In the faint light of the Zippo he was holding, Mike flinched. "Jess, I'm really sorry."

"N-no. Don't be." I tried to smile. I swear, I tried. But, eventually, I settled with a shrug. "I just... well, I'm not sure that you've made a good choice."

"Why do you think that?"

"Maybe because I'm not a typical lass, for starters?"

To my surprise, he chuckled. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not a run-of-the-mill girl, either."

"Hey, this isn't funny!" I glared at him, wiping his smirk away. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly the same, bubbly person from the last time we met. I- I've seen things. Really, really bad things. I've done plenty of them myself and..."

The lump growing in my throat felt as thick as concrete. Perhaps I should leave the rest of this unsaid. I wasn't ready for the whole sharing bit, especially not here and now.

"And what, Jess?"

Attempting to put an end to this subject, I turned my head and looked away from him. Hopefully, he should get the message and leave me be. But, after some time, I felt his hand grasping my shoulder.

"No. I'm not talking about this."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. Are you happy now?"

He furrowed his brow at me, obviously not believing a thing I had said. Meanwhile, I let out an exasperated sigh. I also inwardly cursed the door for being so bloody useless. Maybe, if I managed to break the hinges somehow, I might get a chance to run away from here and not deal with this. But, what on earth could I use for that?

"Jess." His voice was pleading this time. "Tell me."

"Okay. Okay!"

I forced myself to look back at him. Yet, that didn't stop my chest from tightening with dread. I had already started regretting what I was about to say. Oh, well. Here it goes.

"They scare me sometimes, Mike. The things I've done so far." Avoiding his gaze for a moment, I shook my head. "Trust me on this. You're not looking for someone like me."

"What if I am?"

Damn it, I can't listen to this. It has to stop. And it has to stop now. "You're not. Don't get me wrong, you're a good man. But, you deserve much better than this."

A corner of his lips curved. However, his smile was much different than before. This one seemed strained, sad, perhaps even bitter – and I had never thought I would use those three words in the same sentence with his name.

"What if I don't want better?"

"Michael, I'm with someone else."

And then everything went quiet.

Crap. I looked down to my feet and then back up, clambering for something less blunt that could fix this. But, it was far too late. Mike's hand slid down from my shoulder. On top of that, he looked at me with strangely wide eyes, as if someone had just punched him hard in the gut. Holy crap.

I leaned my back against the pantry wall, which was the furthest I could go. He was definitely hurt by this. Yet, the only thing I could do was bite my lip and wait for whatever was coming next.

"So, that's it." He sighed and scraped a hand down his face. "Jesus, Jess."

"I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner."

He didn't seem to have heard that. "You've been with another bloke all this time?"

"It wasn't all this time, Mike. But, it's been a while."

"Who is he?" He crossed my arms over his chest, making me raise an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look. You could at least tell me who the lucky one is."

"I won't explain myself to you. For chrissake, you're not my father!"

His jaw visibly clenched for a moment. "You're right. I'm not. But, I'm still asking." He tilted his head slightly to one side. "Do I know him? Is he someone from Aldbourne?"

I bit my lip for the umpteenth time, hesitating. "It's Roe."

"Huh."

Mike nodded only once, before letting a heavy silence return. Judging by the sullen, pensive look on his face, he wasn't planning to say a word in a while. However, I quickly found out that I was wrong when he glanced at the floor under his feet.

"Right. It's always a doctor, yeah?"

"For chrissake, you make it sound as if he's something foul!" I winced when he shot me a glare. "Anyway, I said I was sorry!"

"Oh, you're sorry?" He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Well, that's great. That will solve just about everything!"

"Mike –"

"You know what? Go. Just get out of here."

I frowned at him in return. "And where do you have in mind?"

"Anywhere. I want to be alone for five fucking minutes. Is that a problem?"

"Aye, it might be, since we're both still locked in a sodding pantry!"

The look on his face was something I would gladly forget. Something had hardened in his gaze, leaving him with a steely glare that urged me to inch a bit further away. Unfortunately, there were no places left for me to retreat. I stayed where I was, uncomfortably wedged between him and the brick wall behind my back – until the door knob moved.

Actually, I hadn't seen it move. It was too dark. Yet, I heard if letting out a familiar creaking sound. It didn't last long when a low, muffled, but quite familiar voice came from the other side.

"...the hell is she? Jess?"

I had never been so relieved to hear Ralph's voice.

Thank God. I reached out and banged my fist hard against the door. "Oi, we're here! We're inside!"

"What?" Ralph went quiet for a second or two. "We?"

"Just open the door, Spina!", Mike shouted.

The creaking abruptly returned. Manoeuvring with his lighter, Mike brought it closer to the door and revealed that the door knob was turning. However, beside that, nothing was going on. It was merely moving up and down. I was about to shout to Ralph that he wasn't helping when the thing went utterly still. And then, a moment later, the door shook with a loud thud.

"Shit!" I barely shielded my face with my forearm. The door burst open next to me, sending splinters and dust in every direction. That was when I squinted at the surge of light – and the sight of Ralph standing in the doorway. He stepped back, scratching the top of his head in bewilderment.

"You guys okay?", he asked.

"Aye", Mike muttered, "Bloody terrific."

He pushed himself out of the narrow space and rushed outside. When I went after him, I suddenly met with Ralph's confused look. He glanced at me, then at Mike, and then back at me before raising his eyebrows. I plastered something hopefully close to a smile. However, at the same time, my insides were surely turning into knots. Plese, don't get any wrong ideas. Don't get any wrong ideas.

Eventually, Ralph smirked.

"It's a good thing I came early and saved your arses, huh?", he said. I did my best not to sigh in relief as he clapped Mike on the back. "Come on, Sully. The guys are waiting."

"Uh-huh." Mike nodded, as if nothing had happened, and grabbed his rifle from the nearby corner. "Thanks Speen."

"You'll owe me ten bucks for this."

Mike remained quiet this time, but that didn't stop him from glowering at Ralph. He then made a beeline to the door and out of the farmhouse. I immediately bolted after him. In a matter of seconds, I was running as fast as I could down the village road, struggling to keep up my pace with his.

I also mentally smacked myself in the head. When it came to saying things carefully, I had really outdone myself this time.

For a blink of an eye, I was glad that Neve wasn't here to hear this.

I didn't notice that he had stopped until I heard someone's chuckle. Snapping out of it, I found myself rushing past an old barn. A few steps away, Mike had slowed down and he was now making his way towards the front door. I quickly skidded to a halt. Slipping for a moment on the muddy ground, I made a turn and dashed after him.

"Michael."

He stopped the moment he heard me. But, something in the way he stood told me to back off slightly. In spite of that, I didn't falter. I stepped beside him and met his eyes, hoping that he would say something. He did, eventually.

"Walk away from me."

I froze. Meanwhile, without saying anything else, he went to the barn door and soon disappeared inside the building. He didn't even look back.

You've really done it now, didn't you? Biting my lip hard, I forced myself to move. The last thing I needed was someone to notice how awkward I was and start asking questions. That would really make my night. Having stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep them warm, I walked to the closest corner of the barn. With some luck, I might catch Gene there, smoking a cigarette. He usually spent time outside while he waited.

However, I saw nobody. I looked around, expecting him to appear somewhere from the dark, but that didn't happen. I even stopped by the barn, where the rest of the lads were and took a brief glance inside. Yet, there was no trace of him.

"Jess. Hey, Jess."

I glanced over my shoulder, just to see Ralph approaching. And then I felt my brow furrowing. He had a smile spread over his lips. That wasn't a wrong thing by any means, but still – after what had happened so far this night, one could never be too careful.

"I haven't seen you for ages", he said, "How are you doing?"

"Frankly?" I flinched when I saw my breath turning into steam. "Cold."

"But... you're from England."

"And?"

"Don't you guys get used to the deep-freezing weather?"

"I'm just half-English. The rules don't exactly apply to me." Ralph chuckled. That was when something hit me. "Wait a minute – they're letting you take part with that wonky arm of yours?"

"Watch it", he replied, sending me a mock insulted look, "This wonky arm of mine stitched you up good a few times." But, then he quickly smiled and shrugged. "Well, the short story is – they won't let me. They want a medic to be here on standby, just in case something goes to hell. Again."

"You and me both, brother. They told me the same thing."

"So, what you're saying is that you're grounded?"

"Temporarily." I smirked at the thought. "Isn't that odd?"

"What do you mean?"

"The last time someone told me I was grounded, it was 1931. I was a kid. I think my sister was still in nappies." My smirk soon turned into a small grin. "I hoped I wouldn't hear that again. Ever."

"Well, tough luck, sugar. There are some things you just can't escape from." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, gazing at the distance. However, he glanced back at me shortly after. "Are you okay?"

"You've already asked me that."

"I have. But, you've been acting strange since I got you and Mike out of that godawful pantry."

"I'm not."

"Mike does look a bit pissed. And so do you."

"I don't. I'm just..." I'm just mortified because Mike kissed me and I shunned him. And I have a strong feeling that he hates my guts now. "It had... spiders. All right? The ceiling was full of them in that place. I might have given Mike a hard time about it."

"Whoah. You're afraid of spiders?" He stared at me in disbelief. "Well, Jess, it sucks to be you sometimes."

"Zip it, Ralph."

"Relax! I was only joking." I huffed in response, but I said nothing. Meanwhile, Ralph made one step closer. "Look, I know we're all a little tense tonight. It's okay to be nervous. In your case, more than usual, since you can't take off and... well, you know what I mean." He stuck his hand in his pocket, searching for something. "Wanna cigarette?"

"Uh – no, thanks." I shuffled in my spot. However, I had to ask: "By the way, have you seen Gene anywhere?"

"Heylinger sent for him. They had to discuss something at the CP, I think."

My heart skipped a beat. The CP was a good fifteen-minute walk from here. And I had to see him. I had to get a chance to talk to him before...

Stop it. I bit my lip harder, fighting to calm myself down. Just stop it. He's Eugene Roe, in case you've forgotten. If he made it out alive from that pile of rubble, he'll come back from this, too.

"If you wanna smoke, just say the word", Ralph added, "It can take care of the jitters."

"I'm fine for now."

He shrugged again. Having flipped his lighter opened, he lit a cigarette which dangled from his mouth. And then he let out a puff of smoke, which snaked towards the sky. That was how the two of us – a medic with a still healing arm – and a grounded pilot just stood there, staring at blank space.

While I dragged my boot heel across the dirt, something caught my eye. Ralph had become strangely quiet since he had started smoking. Actually, the only noise he was making was an occasional sigh. That detail was the one that completely took me aback.

He wasn't even going to this mission. He was supposed to crack a joke or two as we waited, or even hum an off-key Sinatra's song. God knew how many times he had done that with Gene and me. However, he was doing none of that now. I looked a him closely from the corner from my eye, only to swallow a bit. I had seen him quiet and sullen before, yet never like this.

"Ralph, have you ever –"

"Grab your things, ladies, we're moving out!"

I stiffened as a shout blared out of the darkness. Almost at the same time, Ralph turned in my direction with a pinched look, holding his cigarette tightly between his fingers. At that second, there was no need for us to say anything.

The time was up. And Gene wasn't coming here.

I didn't even realise that my hand was up fisting tightly in my hair. No sooner did I pull it back than I spotted the lads move out of the barn. Since Ralph and I were standing away from the door, they didn't notice us while they made their way down the road.

The last of the lads had just hurried out of the barn when it dawned on me. It was enough for me to shiver and clench my hands hard into fists. If, by some reason, this operation went south, I might outlive Gene tonight.

I might outlive all of them.

XXX

I stopped walking back and forth, only to glance at the watch I had borrowed. And then I continued pacing through the farmhouse. My stomach was quivering inside me and, no matter what I did, my hands never stopped shaking.

The lads had been in the field a little over two hours. A small voice in the back of my head kept convincing me to sit down and take it easy. Nothing would go wrong out there – at least that was what I had told Gene to comfort him. I knew that I should try believing in that, too. And I had, truly. However, as seconds kept ticking, I felt that I was slowly losing my grip on any positive thought.

If the lads walked into an ambush at the river, they could fight back somehow. Yet, Gene couldn't. In a worst case scenario, he had no weapon to defend himself with. He would be a five-foot-ten sitting duck, bound to get dinged at any minute. Maybe that had already happened. While I was stuck here, mulling over this, he might have been dead already.

But, that wasn't what fuelled the anger in the pit of my stomach. It was the fact that, whatever happened, I wouldn't be there to help him.

Tears started welling up in my eyes, turning my vision into a blur. In the last week or so, I had had nothing but failures. I hadn't outsmarted Denham and run away from him far enough. I couldn't even protect my sister when she needed me the most. How the hell was I supposed to save one man, who was mere miles away from here?

The chair was the first thing to go.

Groaning in fury, I grabbed it and flung it across the kitchen with all the strength I could muster. It barely clattered against the floor when I went for the table. With one swipe, I sent the lamp toppling over the edge. It smashed into pieces, which scattered over the dirty floorboards.

By that time, I couldn't take it anymore. I snatched the table for support, yet I ended up dropping to my knees. The fall hurt and it would definitely leave a few bruises, but I couldn't care less about it. As tears streamed down my face, I curled up where I was, bringing my knees closer to my chest. The only thing that was keeping me from sobbing was that I was biting my lip hard enough.

I had no idea how much time had passed when someone touched my back. I whirled around, with hands clenched into fists, ready to fight back if I had to. But, there was no need for that.

"It's okay, cher."

Swallowing thickly, I looked up and met Gene's gaze. Although his pale face was a bit hazy, I didn't have to blink the tears away to know if that was him. The silhouette with the sagging shoulders undeniably belonged to him. I could say the same about the peculiar drawl I had heard.

I scoffed, struggling to keep my composure. However, when I spoke, I couldn't keep my voice from quivering.

"I s-swear, Eugene, you'll k-kill me before anything else."

"That's strange." He briefly smiled. "I thought the same about you a few times."

He soon glanced around the kitchen, blinking in surprise once he noticed the cracked chair in the corner. His eyebrows raised at the shattered lamp near his feet. Yet, even though he had stepped on a shard of glass, he didn't mention a thing about it. He didn't ask a single question. He simply looked back at me, instead. Very gingerly, he sat down next to me, making sure that he wouldn't get cut on the remains of the lamp.

"It's okay." Reaching out, he slowly wrapped an arm around my waist. "I've gotcha."

I hesitated at first. But, then I caved in and leaned closer to him. I carefully rested my forehead against his collarbone, closing my eyes shut. However, that didn't help me. His touch didn't soothe me one bit. I only started crying harder, shaking and clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Jess." Gene raised his free arm, moving it slowly up my back. That was when he tangled my fingers in my hair. Carding his fingers through it, he softly whispered: "Please, don't cry. We're both in one piece, aren't we?"

I sniffed and tried to quieten my sobs. But, instead of making them stop, I somehow turned them into loud hiccups. Muttering something along the line of "gawd-damnit", Gene held me close against him.

Thank heavens, nobody else was here except him. If one of the lads accidentally barged inside, they would surely have a disappointment. They would have seen me, the daredevil pilot in the eyes of the company, with snot oozing down my chin and a lip bitten through in worry. Come to think of it, it must have been bleeding, because it stung sharply when I touched it.

"We're gonna still be here tomorrow. That's all that matters." Gene angled his head, so as to get a closer look at my face. "Jess. Hey. How 'bout you smile a bit for me?"

He gently ran his knuckles up and down my back when I shied away from him. I had suddenly remembered that we weren't exactly alone.

"Wait. The lads... they'll be looking for you."

"Most of 'em are in the barn. They're gonna throw a small party or somethin'."

I breathed in deeply, trying to pull myself together. "You'd better go."

"I'm stayin' here. You need me a bit more than them."

"I'll be okay. Actually, I'll come with you." Propping myself against the table, I slowly shuffled back to my feet. "Why don't you go first... and I'll follow in ten minutes."

He looked a bit suspicious. "You sure?"

I nodded again, wiping my face with my sleeve. "I don't want anyone to start questioning where I am. It's better this way."

Instead of a reply, he pushed himself off the floor, too. And then he went outside, closing the door behind him. That was some sort of my queue to get down to business.

Calm down. You can do this. With a short sigh, I reached for my canteen on the edge of the sink. I washed my face as best as I could, wiping off any trace of what had happened. I dabbed my lower lip a couple of times with my sleeve, too. In the end, it still didn't look good, but at least the blood was gone. That should count for something.

Maybe I could pull this off after all.

It took me a few minutes of trudging through the darkness, yet I found out where he so-called party was. A lonely barn on the end of the road was occupied. A fan of yellowish light was seeping from under the large front door, while muted voices were coming from behind it. Things must have kicked off a while ago. Resisting the urge to bite my lip again, I opened the door and slid inside.

However, instead of a mere handful of men, I came across a crowd. The barn was full of blokes, who were all facing one end of the room. A few lads glanced at me, however. Quizzical looks appeared on their faces once they realised I wasn't a man. Yet, they weren't nearly as confused as me. Almost half of the lads weren't from Easy at all – if their gear was anything to go by.

What the...?

Moose Heylinger and the American 101st have done the Red Devils a great service, making it possible for us to return and fight the enemy another day!"

I whirled around towards the voice. Frankly, I hardly believed my ears. The man who had just said that was standing on a crate on the further end of the barn. He was holding some sort of beverage in his right hand, as if he would soon propose a toast. But, his accent hadn't stunned me as much as his beret. It was maroon, slightly tilted on the top of his head.

The British Airborne was back in town.

"To Easy Company, victory and Currahee!", the man shouted.

"Currahee!"

Hardly did the collective shout die down than someone gave me a light slap on the shoulder. I jerked as Malarkey popped up in my view with a smirk.

"Jesus, Donald! I thought someone was about to jump me."

His cheery expression faltered slightly. "You okay, Red? You look a bit pale."

"Aye. I'm okay. But, please, don't do that anymore. I think you're the fourth lad who asked me." His expression told me that he wasn't entirely convinced with me being all right. Trying to brush that aside, I quickly added: "The mission was a success, I see."

"At one point, I thought that things would go wrong. But, they didn't." He grinned, glancing at the lads of Easy who were standing close by. "Thank God."

Somehow, in a way I couldn't explain, I managed to crack a grin, too.

"I already have."

"But, I shouldn't have worried that much. We've got you." He playfully smacked me in the shoulder. "We've got the Full Metal Prichard at our side."

I sent him a baffled look. "The what?"

"Joe Toye made it up tonight. I think it suits you, since you're in a plane and all." Malarkey nodded to himself. "You've become quite the talk since your flight at Randwijk."

"Oh." The Full Metal Prichard? I'm going to smack him in the head for that one. "Where is the genius now?"

"Right over there." He pointed behind his shoulder. "Why are you looking at me like that? Someone who took down two planes in one day has to have a new nickname. And this one sounds pretty good. Ain't that right, Liebgott?"

It took me a moment to figure out that Joe was standing mere steps away. He slowly turned around and faced us. Yet, unlike Malark, he wasn't happy at all when Randwijk had been mentioned. If gazes could cut, his would probably slice me in half right about now. Thankfully, that didn't last for too long. He just scowled in the end before turning back to his conversation with some British lad.

At that time, I realised that Ralph had been right all along. I didn't want to admit it exactly, but what he had said was true. There were indeed things that we couldn't escape from, no matter how hard we fought.

The consequences of our actions were one of them. Sooner or later, we would have to face them. And, eventually, we would have to find a way to life with them.

XXX

October 31, 1944.

Dear Neve,

I know this seems a bit crazy – I'm writing a letter for you, while having no idea where to send it. If Gene saw me doing this, he would probably raise an eyebrow and give me a weird look. But, don't worry. I'm okay. I'm working on finding out where you are. I just wish that this will reach you soon, because I want you to know something.

I'm sorry.

You were supposed to have a peaceful life, a thousand miles away from this. The mess we're in isn't a place where a kid should grow up. I'm sure that you're rolling your eyes right now and saying that you'd be bored anywhere else. Maybe you're right. But, even a boring life would be better than the one we have now. I swear to you, dragging you down with me was the last thing I wanted to happen. Denham was never meant to become your problem, too. And I'm so sorry for getting you involved in this.

I should have known better, hinny. I should have covered my tracks more thoroughly, or picked another place for us to hide in. But, that's the kicker, isn't it? I didn't know better. I believed that we would easily get out of here – and I put your life on the line. Now, I'm back where I started, while you... damn it, I don't know if you're in England at all.

But, wherever you are now, I have a feeling that you're furious with me because of everything. That's all right, I deserve that. I've turned your stomach upside-down too many times, including the time when you had to get my stitches out with an old penknife. You can be angry for as long as you want. In fact, you have my permission to punch me in the face when we see each other again. But, some time after that, I'll have to ask you for a favour. I'll ask you to find a way to forgive me for what I've done – even if we both turn into grouchy old ladies in the meantime.

With love,

Jess

P. S. Happy Halloween, sweetheart.

P. P. S. Do you remember George, Gene's friend? Brown hair, big smile with dimples, likes to joke a lot? He just snuck behind me, covered with a bed sheet, pretending to be a ghost. I'm sure I've got a minor heart-attack – but he can't stop laughing!

P. P. P. S. Five minutes ago, George tripped over his sheet and flopped into a ditch. Guess who's laughing now.

"That wasn't funny", Gene muttered as I tried to keep a straight face.

"Oh, come on. Admit it! It was a tad funny."

"You weren't the one who had to get them thorns out of his – "

"Okay, enough!" I raised a hand, cutting him off. "I get it."

I didn't know if he smirked at that or not, because he looked away. Perched on a nearby bed, he continued jotting down something in his notepad. However, I did see a smile spreading on his face when I handed him a cup of coffee.

We were both alone, sitting in the corner of the newly assembled Aid station. He was halfway through another graveyard shift, taking stock of the supplies. I shouldn't be here in the first place, if anyone wondered. But, I had decided to drop by anyway with two hot drinks in my hands. With a few more hours still ahead of him, he would definitely need one.

"Thanks." He accepted the cup and took a small sip. As he savoured the drink, he got back to his writing. "By the way, Luz told me somethin'."

"Like what? New tips on pranking?"

He shortly glared at me. "We're movin' out soon."

I took a closer look at him, expecting him to smirk at any minute. Yet, he remained completely solemn. "You're joking. Right?"

"Nope. In a few weeks, we'll be goin' somewhere near Rheims."

Rheims? Like the city? But, that's in... hold on. "Isn't that in France?"

"It is. But, we're still goin'." Gene stopped writing and moved his gaze up to me. "And if Luz ain't wrong, we're gonna spend Christmas dere. Maybe the whole winter, too."

Gosh, I'd like to try the hooch George is drinking. I was on the verge of saying that out loud when something made me frown.

"I've never been to Rheims."

"Me neither."

He was about to smile. I was certain, because the corner of his lips curved slightly upwards. Yet, he stopped right there. For some reason, worry began spreading over his features. He glanced to his left and right, as if he were checking that nobody was nearby.

"Gene? What's wrong?"

"Luz said somethin' else." His voice was quiet this time. However, it also seemed to be hesitating. "We might get free passes for Christmas. You know... to go someplace, see the sights and all."

"Okay." I had a feeling that wasn't everything he had to say. And I was right.

"Well, I was thinkin'." He glanced at the notepad in his grasp before looking back to me. "If we get the chance to visit Rheims, would you go out on a drink with me?"

A part of me smiled. Yet, although I wanted to accept, I had no choice but to shake my head.

"I would gladly go out with you. You know that. But..." Not knowing how to finish that, I left the rest of the words die off.

"It's about yo sister, ain't it?"

"She could be anywhere, Gene. I can't just go to parties and have fun." I leaned forward in my chair. "I should be spending every chance I have looking for her until I find her."

"I'm afraid I'll have to insist."

I raised an eyebrow. "You'll what?"

"We could plan out our next move over a drink."

"And the drinking part will help us how, exactly?"

"After all that's goin' on out here, I couldn't plan a thing if my life depended on it. I'm sure that you're not far off. A drink or two can help both of us think a little more clearly." He shrugged. "Who knows? We might come up with somethin' in the end."

I stared at him for a long moment. And then I slowly folded my arms. "All right... who are you and what have you done to Eugene Roe?"

He raised his hands in mock-surrender. "Just 'cause it makes one tipsy doesn't mean it ain't useful."

"Who told you that rubbish?"

"You. Last Thursday."

I sulked. However, I didn't get any chance to retort. With zero warning, the tent flap next to us flew open, letting somebody storm inside. He tripped and almost slumped forward, but he managed to grab the nearby medicine cabinet for support. I blinked in surprise as Mike bent almost in half, struggling to get his breath back.

He looked up soon after. His eyes stared straight into mine and, in that very second, I was ready to bet that he was looking for a fight. Yet, that wasn't the reason why he was here. Having blinked a couple of times, he turned towards Gene, took another shaky breath and uttered:

"Heylinger... he's been shot."

I jumped out of my chair. In the meantime Gene stayed rooted to his spot. But, his notepad and pencil slipped out of his hands and dropped on the floor.

"Where?", he asked suddenly.

"Wait", I chimed in. I glanced back at Mike, who had turned his attention to me. "A-are we under attack?"

"No." He shook his head. "Friendly fire."

My stomach clenched. Oh, shit.

"Sullivan, where to?", Gene demanded.

"Railway." Mike extended his arm and pointed through the ajar tent flap. "Across the road from the café... W-Winters and Welsh are with him."

Hardly did he say the last word than Gene rushed to his bag in the corner. In one move, he snatched it and slung it over his shoulder before darting to the tent exit. But, he halted after a couple of steps.

"You okay, Sullivan?", he asked.

"I'm fine. Just go!"

Gene whirled around and made a run for it, vanishing in the darkness.

By that time, I was becoming queasy. The company had been away from the front lines since a few days ago. We should have been safe here – well, at least a bit safer than usual. Things like these weren't supposed to happen. But, now I knew how wrong I had been.

I'd picked the wrong time to quit smoking. I bit my lower lip as Mike straightened up, giving the back of his neck a scratch.

"Heylinger's shot?", I repeated, "How did that happen?"

"The sentry. He was jumpy, maybe he thought we were Jerry." He sighed. "I dunno. He... he just opened fire at us. I was right next to Heylinger when he dropped."

He was clearly shaken by the whole thing. His face was ashen and, even though he was looking at me, his eyes seemed a bit glazed over. I didn't blame him, though. If I had been beside the lieutenant when he was hit, I would have been in shock now, too.

"Why don't you... uh... sit down?", I suggested, "I'll get you a drink."

Mike didn't pay attention to that. He just lowered his head, still clutching the edge of the cabinet with one hand. His next breath came out strangely shaky, which made me squint at him. He sounded very odd. It was as if he was finding it difficult to get some air.

"He just opened fire", he muttered.

"Mike?"

Wondering what was going on, I made a few steps closer. That was when I felt a smell emanating from him. It wasn't sweat – I was sure of it. It was too sharp for that. Unfortunately, it was also familiar. I had come across it so many times that I recognised it in a second. Before I knew what was going on, my skin started to crawl.

However, that dreadful feeling quickly became worse when I heard Mike's whisper:

"S-something's wrong."

Holy shit... Reaching out, I grasped the collar of his jacket. And then I tried to pull it down as gently as possible.

I almost gagged. My free hand flew to my mouth.

Tugging the jacket off was out of the question. Instead, I ended up slowly peeling it off the back of his neck. Mike's breath hitched as I removed the fabric stuck to his left shoulder. However, I couldn't find the words to soothe him. I kept staring, suddenly feeling numb.

The blood was fresh. It was also his. It had drawn a thick red line, which enveloped his neck like a noose. The dark stains on his shirt told me that there was much more of it to see.

Mike slowly turned his head in my direction. For a short moment, his blue, half-closed eyes gazed right at me – and they rolled to white as he crumpled to the floor.

To be continued...