Hello, dearest readers! I'm back! And I hope you had a wonderful Easter. :)

I'm very sorry for disappearing from the site – again. Making you wait for a new chapter since last year was extremely ungrateful of me. But, during those months, I had little choice but to take a break in writing Jess's story. My last semester of college recently began, and studying for exams, working and preparing research papers ate up all my free time. I hope that you will forgive me for making you wait for so long.

I also want you to know that I haven't forgotten about you. And I promise I won't abandon this story and leave it to collect dust somewhere. You'll eventually see where "The Whole Nine Yards" will lead Jess and the boys. All I'm asking of you is a bit more patience. I'll make it up to you with a new, lengthy chapter as soon as I find another opportunity for writing – which, hopefully, won't be long. ;)

Before we move on to the chapter, I want to give special thanks to: Slytherin Studios (Thank you so much! I hope you'll like this chapter as much as the previous one. :) ), beth-rodrigues.77 (Don't worry about the length of your review. Your kind words were the highlight of my day. Muito obrigada! :) I'm glad to hear that you liked the scene with Mike and Jess. I thought it would be more realistic if Mike wanted to be her friend, in spite of what happened between them. As for Dike, I'm afraid he'll stick around for a while, especially since the Bastogne episode is coming closer. Speaking of which, expect a few tough scenes in the near future. But, I also have some good news – Jess and Gene will have more scenes together this time. :) Their moment in chapter 39 seemed a bit short, so I decided to compensate for that. But, when you reach the end... please, don't shoot me, okay?), Cayendoelenolvido (Thank you for the beautiful review. :) I'm thrilled to hear that this story makes you so happy. When I read how much you like Jess and Gene, I couldn't stop smiling. :) I hope Chapter 40 will live up to your expectations. :) ), sarahmichellegellarfan1 (When I checked my e-mail, I thought I was imagining things for a second. Ten reviews in one day? Gosh... you've launched this writer on cloud nine! :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! It really means a lot to me. Enjoy the next chapter. ;) ), and the last, but not least, vintagecowgirl101 (Thanks again for the amazing review! I hope you're having a lovely day. :) ).

And thank you, HannahGrace99, for the favourite and CharlieGray99 and youngbones7 for the follow!

Also, special thanks to livelaughluvmusic for the story favourite and follow! :)

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 Forty – Going Down Swingin'

Dear Jess,

I'm sorry for leaving like this, without goodbyes – and a decent hug. But, I've just heard that my outfit is moving out and I don't have much time. I reckon this means we won't see each other for a while. That really puts a damper on things. I won't have anyone to brag to about my card-shuffling skills... joking aside, this also means I won't be able to help you with your problem. I'm truly sorry for that, too.

Gosh, writing this is hard. There's so much I want to say and I could be leaving at any minute. I should probably keep this simple, right? Well, here it goes – let me know if Eugene doesn't treat you right, check the fuel before taking off and, please, be careful. Something tells me you're hardly waiting to pull off some stunt since what happened in October. I hope, just this once, that I'm wrong. You won't be able to do much for Neve if you get hurt, or worse (except giving her a reason to kill me very, very slowly for not watching your back).

And now I have to go. The trucks are here already. Those lads are fast, eh? Anyway, wish me luck. I know I'll wish the same for you. I love you.

Michael

I had read his letter quite a few times by now, but thinking about it still made me smile. Mike knew me well enough to suspect that I wasn't about to stay put. Yet, I couldn't even fathom how he would react if he found out what I was planning to do. Going ballistic would probably be an understatement. The idea of sneaking into the CP, breaking into a high-ranking bloke's footlocker and snatching something from it was borderline crazy, even for my standards.

Come to think of it, I had started to doubt if I could manage that.

Not long after Mike had left, the entire Easy Company was ordered to move out, as well. We soon found ourselves in France, in a camp on the edge of a quiet town named Mourmelon-le-Grand. One of the larger buildings there became the new location of the CP, including Denham's office – and that turned out to be my biggest problem. With not too many people walking around, there was no way I could sneak closer and into the CP without being spotted. And I couldn't figure out when and how the guards changed, because it seemed to happen at different times. No matter how much time I spent staring at the building from across the street, I was stuck. I didn't have the foggiest what to do next and it almost made me pull my hair out in frustration.

"Tough day at the office?"

I looked up at Gene and nodded, unsure what to say. He gently smiled.

"You forgot all 'bout yo' coffee."

"Oh, right." I blinked, finally snapping out of my reverie. "Thanks."

It had taken Gene a while to convince me to go out with him. I wanted to stay at the barracks and figure out what to do about my little situation, but I couldn't say no to him. He had wanted to check out this café in town for weeks. On top of that, if I declined, he would know something was wrong with me. That was how I ended up here, watching him reach out from his side of the table. He carefully pushed the coffee cup with his fingers, sliding it a couple of inches closer to me.

"You okay?"

This time, his smile was slowly growing faint. His voice seemed lower and there was a hint of concern in his tone. I wasn't surprised much by that. Three days of working around the clock to get to Denham's footlocker and barely sleeping had left its mark on me. The way my face was pale, along with the dark circles under my eyes, almost matched Gene's now.

"I'm as good as I have to be", I said, raising a shoulder in a half-shrug.

He frowned a little. "You could look on the bright side of this."

I let out a forced chuckle before taking a sip from my coffee. "Is there a bright side? I don't really see it from where I'm standing."

"We're in a nice place. And nobody's tryin' to blow us to bits."

"Huh. Point taken."

While he glanced through the window, I grasped the opportunity to snatch his fork from the table. And then, slowly enough not to catch his attention, I aimed for the slice of pie in front of him. I took a small corner of it when Gene suddenly turned around, looking at me with such bewilderment that it was almost adorable.

I grabbed a bite. "What?"

He slowly shook his head, a small smile flickering across his face. "You could've listened and ordered another dessert."

"Oh, I know. But, this is a bit more fun." I reached out again, only to have my hand playfully swatted. "Ow!"

His chuckle was soft and nice to hear – I had a feeling that had become rare during the last few weeks. He glanced somewhere down, which was a perfect chance for me to strike again. I snatched another piece of his pie and, by the time he lifted his gaze, I was stirring my coffee as if nothing had happened.

"Speaking of offices, how were things in yours?", I asked, in hope of changing the subject.

"Nothin' much. We had a march yesterday with the replacements."

"Really? How did that go?"

"It was..." Gene hesitated. "Well, it wasn't that bad. Until the Lieutenant gave me an earful on how to do my job."

"Ah." I cringed a little in sympathy. "So, Dike gave you the talk? I know he gave me one after my practice flight. He kept shouting I was doing it all wrong. I really wanted to ask him to get into the cockpit and show me how it's done."

"I hope you didn't." Gene's eyes widened slightly after a moment. "Did you?"

"No – unfortunately. But, if he said something about her, it would've been a different story altogether." Having noticed his confused look, I explained: "Nobody jibes my plane and lives."

He shook his head at me in disapproval. He was probably about to warn me that this kind of attitude would land me into an even bigger mess. However, I didn't hear a word from him, because my attention was suddenly glued elsewhere. I gazed at the door behind him, which was now suddenly opened, and my mouth went agape. A small group of paratroopers was just entering the café. What was even worse, Gene and I knew every single one of them.

"Something wrong?", Gene asked, his brow crinkling.

"They're – no, don't turn around!", I whispered, snatching his hand to stop him. "There's Don, Lieb and George and... damn it. Joe Toye just walked in."

I accidentally tightened my grip on Gene's hand, hoping like anything that they wouldn't look this way. So far, that didn't happen. Don probably cracked a joke because they all laughed before moving to the other end of the room, settling themselves at a table not too far from ours. I quickly turned to Gene, who was sitting completely still, not daring to move.

"Are they close?", he asked.

"Close enough." I craned my neck a bit, taking a better look behind him. The lads were currently busy flirting with the waitress. "Wanna get out of here?"

He nodded. "I'll stay and foot the bill. Wait for me at the back."

I gave him a quick thumbs up before jumping to my feet. Hurriedly draping my jacket over my back, I rushed towards the café's back door, which was luckily far enough from the lads' table. However, I still took a few glanced behind me, just to make sure nobody was looking in my direction. In fact, I was so focused on it that I didn't notice someone rounding the nearby bar – and I grunted as I suddenly collided with him.

"Jeez, I'm so sorry, I..." I looked up at the bloke I had run into. But, any apology I tried to think of left my mind as I froze, hardly believing my eyes.

Frankly, I thought I was experiencing some sort of flashback. He was clean-shaven, his hair neatly combed, just like that day in Aldbourne when he appeared at my window. Even his regiment cap was tilted slightly to the side as it used to be.

My voice sounded strangely small. "Bill."

"Jesus." His face almost split into a grin. "Come 'ere!"

I made a hesitant step before he crushed me into a hug, lifting me enough for my toes to shortly dangle above the floor. He chuckled and soon put me down to get my breath back.

"What are you doin' here?", he asked, this time with a puzzled look.

"Long story." I brushed the subject aside. He tried asking me something, but he stopped and moved away to let the waitress pass. The way he awkwardly shuffled sideways made me blink in surprise. "Bill, since when are you limping?"

"Maybe since I broke my leg."

"Smart-arse. I mean, didn't they fix it in England?"

"They did, but the thing didn't finish healin' yet. And I didn't wanna stay in England any longer. Though, there were nurses with some nice gams." He smirked to himself. "What can I say? Patience ain't one of my virtues."

"Aye. And neither is common sense."

"Aw, Jess." Bill placed his hand over his heart, pretending to be insulted. "That hurt. It really did." That was when his expression quickly morphed into a bemused one. He blinked into a couple of times after which he leaned slightly closer, his brow furrowing and his voice becoming strangely low. "Wait a second. Shouldn't you be... you know, at home?"

My chest felt strangely tight. It had suddenly dawned on me that he had missed the whole fight at Randwijk. He wasn't there when the village was attacked, nor when the supporting Aid station. In fact, he didn't have a clue about what happened after that. The next thing I was aware of was a pit expanding deep in my stomach. Oh, God. He doesn't even know about England.

"Jessie."

That one word made my heart sink. He was the only one who called me that, and I didn't mind it. Yet, this time, he made everything twice as worse by saying it in a soft, almost brotherly tone. I looked away, pulling my lip between my teeth, struggling to push back all the dread I felt.

"What happened?", he asked.

I wished I could run away from the concerned look on his face. As time passed, I was finding it increasingly difficult to hold it together.

"You missed all the fun", I said, aware that my voice was quivering, "T-that's what happened."

"Holy shit. Wild Bill Guarnere, the one and only."

Both Bill and I whirled in the direction of that voice. Its owner was a bloke I hadn't seen before, sitting with his friends at a nearby table. If I didn't get the insignia wrong, he was from the 82nd Airbourne. However, Bill definitely knew a lot more about him, because he instantly tensed up, his glare becoming nothing short than murderous.

"I know I've heard that Philly accent from somewhere." The stranger was too tipsy to notice Bill's expression, or maybe he did and chose to ignore it. Either way, he smiled with a corner of his lips. "How's that ass of yours? Is it working with the few extra holes you got?"

Bill's fist clenched. He made a step towards the table, but I quickly raised an arm in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Bill, hey. Hey! Look at him. He's sloshed. Just let him go."

The bloke snorted. "Well, Billy, you should listen to the lovely lady." He turned to the beer he had left on the table, but something made him turn to us again. "I feel very sorry for her, though."

I tried hard not to listen. Just in case, I moved in front of Bill with my arms raised and placed my hands on his chest. With a bit of hope, that should keep him from doing something stupid. Yet, that didn't stop him from peering over my head.

"What the hell does that mean?", he spat.

"Well, if she knew you're even a bit like Henry, she'd be running for the hills by now."

Bill stiffened without a warning, red splotches emerging on his cheeks. He wasn't even blinking this time. Meanwhile, I managed to swallow thickly, having recalled that Henry was Bill's brother.

Oh, boy. "Listen, Bill, why don't we go and – wait!"

Unfortunately, it was too late. He had already wrenched himself out of my grasp. He stormed forward and, with a nasty right hook, knocked the bloke straight off his chair. Before I knew it, the rest of the blokes from the 82nd were on their feet. More chairs creaked as another, smaller group also stood up from their table, and someone from there ran this way, ready to attack Bill from behind.

I didn't think much. I just grabbed a tray from the bar behind me and caught up with him. The bloke barely realised I was there when I swung, whacking him on the head. The tray rang out while he slumped to the floorboard. The guy standing next to him gawped at me in disbelief, but then he snapped out of it and went at me. However, he pulled back as the guys from Easy lunged at him from across the room.

A chair went airborne from somewhere, whizzing above our heads, and Bill pushed me out of the way as the café plunged into chaos. I staggered backwards and ducked to avoid a flying ashtray, which shattered against the wall above my head. When I looked up, the brawl was already in full swing, bottles and glasses being thrown in all directions and tables being flipped aside.

Holy f...! I quickly moved away, evading Joe Toye who shoved an unfortunate soul into the bar. Keeping my head down, I shuffled sideways as fast as I could in the direction of the back door, until I bumped into Gene. I snatched his hand and he pulled me to my feet, after which we both ran. We bolted straight through the exit, skidding to a halt in the street.

Although it was the middle of the afternoon, the sun was already setting and everything was almost completely dark, save for the lights from the windows behind us. I glanced behind me, flinching when I saw the brawl through the glass.

"That was close", I huffed.

"No kiddin'." Gene placed a hand on my shoulder. "How 'bout we get to the barracks before this gets worse?"

"Good idea."

I managed a smile and went with him down the street covered in snow. The thin, layer quietly crackled under our feet while he rushed towards the camp. Luckily, the snow didn't have time to settle yet, so it wasn't slippery and slowing us down. I let out a relieved sigh at the thought. The last thing we needed was to get caught near a scene of a brawl.

We barely passed a crossroads when Gene turned left, making a shortcut between two old buildings. There was an alley leading to the other side, dimly lit by the nearby lamp posts. An old car was parked against the wall and I couldn't help but trace a finger across its snow-covered bonnet, leaving a thin line behind. I grinned a little while I rubbed a pinch of snow between my fingers.

I half-expected Gene to raise his eyebrow at me. However, when I looked at him, he was too busy gazing elsewhere. He was standing still, his eyes locked on a figure that had appeared at the other end of the alley. I moved towards Gene and stood next to him, squinting at the silhouette in front of us. What the...?

"You 101st bastards. You think you can get away?"

Shit. I recognised the bloke the moment he stepped into the light. He was the one I had thwacked on the head in the café. I had no idea how he had followed us, yet it worked – he was right in front of us now. I turned around, already thinking of going back, when another figure appeared at the other end of the alley. Whoever he was, he stepped closer, cutting off Gene's and my way out. But, instead of stopping like his friend, he kept walking towards us. Having a bad feeling about this, I put my hands up, fingers folding into fists.

I didn't see it coming, though. I only heard a rustle before the first guy suddenly appeared, punching Gene and shoving him into a wall. Gene's back slammed into the bricks, after which he fell down to his hands and knees. I sprinted towards his attacker, poised for socking him. However, his friend came from behind, grabbed my arm mid-swing and twisted it behind my back. I yelped and raised my free elbow, jabbing him in the face.

He groaned in pain, his grip turning loose. I slipped out of it and whipped around, aiming my fist for his jaw. But then he abruptly stepped sideways, making me stumble forward, and grabbed me by the neck and shoulder. A second later, he wrenched me to the left, smacking my head into the side of the parked car. Glass cracked and there was a searing, blinding pain. I found myself crumpling to the ground, head and shoulder slamming against the pavement.

Somewhere close by, Gene and the other bloke were still fighting. I could hear them. Snow was swished aside, someone crashed into something hard and Gene's painful cry made my chest constrict. He was getting pummelled, while I was on the ground and not there to give him a hand.

Damn it, I have to help him. I have to help him... I tried to move, but I stopped and winced as pain shot through my head. Yet, I couldn't stay down. Blinking the dizziness away, I clung to the car's door handle and attempted at pulling myself up. However, I didn't get to sit up straight, because a calloused hand grabbed my chin and painfully jerked my head up.

"Not so tough now, are ya, ginger?", the bloke taunted, his fingers digging into my cheeks.

I blinked at him and, and that moment, all I could see was red. I hadn't pulled through Carentan, Randwijk and all those other places in one piece just to be walloped by some arse in a dingy alleyway. I wasn't going down, and neither was Gene, not like this.

He was still sniggering when I moved. I snatched him by the collar of his jacket, yanking him closer, and lammed him with a closed fist. His head reeled back and I shouted as pain shot up my hand. I bent my knees underneath him and kicked hard, sending him tottering back. While he tried to regain his balance, I propped against the car door and somehow scrambled to my shaky legs. Something warm was trickling into my left eye and I wiped it with the back of my hand, keeping my eyes on the bloke in front of me.

"Not so tough now, are you?", I countered.

The anger I felt gave me strength to make a run for it. I rammed straight into him, hard enough to shove him into the opposite wall. As he bent over, I punched him again. But, for some reason, it didn't knock him out. In fact, it only enraged him. I was about to back away when he clutched me and kicked me in the side, one, two, three, four times. Eyes screwed shut in pan and heaving for breath, I dropped to my knees. Forcing my eyelids open, I saw everything blurry from tears, yet I didn't miss his figure moving towards me. I raised my arm – just like Bill had once shown me – and blocked his next hit, feeling the blow pulsate through my forearm. However, I didn't notice his other arm. It shot up and pain flared across my mouth, sending me crashing on the bottom of the alley.

"You little skank–" He didn't finish the sentence, thanks to another Bill's trick. I kicked his legs from underneath him and he dropped with a dull thud. While he sent more curses my way, I stifled a whimper and sluggishly turned on my stomach. I had to get back to my feet before he made his move again. However, as I pressed my palms into the thin snow, his shadow was already spreading right in front of me. He was faster and he was now back, seconds away from dealing another blow.

Yet, that blow never came. Instead, his shadow disappeared without a warning, abruptly wrenched back by something. There was a sound of a fist colliding with someone's face twice. Yet, what ensued was a complete and utter silence. Having no idea what was happening, I slowly turned on my back, groaning while everything hurt. Soon after, I was gaping in disbelief at the scene in front of me.

The bloke I had been fighting was now pinned against the wall, his throat pressed by Gene's arm. Blinking a couple of times, I glanced behind him and went rigid in shock. The guy who had attacked Gene first was now lying on the ground, whimpering and holding onto his leg, which seemed turned in a strange angle. His battered look told me that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

"If I see you and yo' friends again, you'll be howlin' for yo' mother. Got that?"

Holy shit... I thought I was imagining it at first, but that voice was really Gene's. Low and menacing, it was unlike anything I had heard from him before. I shuddered a bit as I looked back at him, realising that he still had the bloke pinned in place. The guy from the 82nd weakly grasped Gene's arm in hopes of pushing it away, but with no avail. Gene held him too tightly.

"Got that?", he repeated, slightly louder than a whisper.

The reply he got was a short, feeble nod. Gene stepped away, letting him go, and the bloke slid down the brick wall. He sank all the way to the pavement, gasping for breath.

However, what happened after that, I didn't know. The shooting pain in my head and side made me close my eyes for a moment. Cringing at the awful taste in my mouth, I turned to my uninjured side and coughed. I barely managed to prop myself against an elbow when I spat out a mouthful of blood into the snow.

Steps rushed to my side soon after. They stopped very close and someone knelt on the ground next to me. A hand came up and supported my head, while the other held me tightly by the jacket, preventing me from keeling over.

"It's okay, Jess. It's okay. I'm right here."

The tone of Gene's voice took me aback. I had expected him to go ballistic, yet he sounded surprisingly gentle, soothing, even a bit worried. After I pried my eyes open and turned my head towards him, there wasn't a trace of that anger I had seen on his face. He was now just as I knew him, with concern etched over his features and a feather-light touch. As I stared at him, unsure what to say exactly, he let my jacket go and patted my cheek a couple of times.

"Jess, you gotta stay with me, okay?" He raised his hand in front of me. "How many fingers?"

"Uh... two." I wrenched myself out of my daze when he cupped the side of my neck, squinting into my eyes. "Gene, cut it out. I'm not concussed."

His pinched expression didn't change. "Can you get up?"

"I think so", I breathed.

"Okay."

He carefully enveloped his arm around my back, while I reached for his jacket. I clutched the fabric tightly in my fist and gave him a nod before we both started pushing our feet against the pavement. When we eventually stood up, I stood still for a few moments, just to make sure that I wouldn't get dizzy. But, to my relief, the street didn't swirl in front of my eyes. My legs were quivering a bit, though, yet they could still hold my weight.

However, Gene was the one who faltered. His knee buckled and he leaned his free hand against the wall to keep himself steady.

"Christ, Gene..." I looped my arm around him and held on firmer. "Can you walk?"

He ran his other hand over the side of his face. The way he was gritting his teeth showed that he was also hurt.

"I'll manage", he muttered.

"Sure you will."

Of course, I didn't believe him much. Grasping his arm, I gingerly moved it over my head and draped it around my shoulders. I halted at that second, waiting for him to pull away or start convincing me that he wasn't in a bad shape. But, he did nothing, which made my stomach twist in worry. He must have been as battered as I was if he unashamedly let me crutch him to the barracks.

Checking that I wouldn't lose my grip on him, I cast a quick look at the blokes behind us. They hadn't moved much in the meantime, which was a plus. The one who had attacked Gene first glared daggers at us from his spot.

"Uh, shouldn't we call someone?"

Gene shook his head. "The MP's will take care of 'em."

Only then did I realise that my ears weren't ringing. It was the actual rumble of a couple of vehicles speeding this way – Jeeps, without a doubt. And they didn't seem to be far from the place where we were now standing. By the time they arrived, the two of us should be long gone. But, it soon dawned on me that we wouldn't get too far, not with the condition we were in.

Yet, nothing stopped us from trying. I tightened my grip around Gene and, after taking a shaky breath, I started walking.

"Come on, Gene. Let's go."

I gave him a little nudge to keep his pace with mine. Since we were both dragging our feet and leaning for each other for support, our progress was unbelievably slow. But, despite that, we managed to scramble out of the alley and into the street on the other side.

I tightened my grip around Gene and, after taking a shaky breath, I started walking. We progressed unbelievably slow, since we were both dragging our feet and leaning on each other for support. But, despite that, we managed to scramble out of the alley and into the street on the other side. We moved across it and reached the adjacent buildings when a quiet, muffled groan reached my ear.

"If it hurts, you can lean on me a little more", I said, "I won't mind."

He didn't listen, even though he kept gritting his teeth. At different times, I would have told him not to be so stubborn and accept some help. Yet, right now, I chose to let it slide.

Okay. Fine. With a long sigh, I glanced up at the sky and silently thanked whoever was listening that there weren't many people around. Otherwise, we would have probably terrified everyone by how messed up we were. I gently tugged at Gene's waist, giving him a sign to turn right with me, but then I stopped.

"What's wrong?", Gene asked. He narrowed his eyes as a few snowflakes landed on his eyelashes. I smiled a bit at the sight.

"You know I hate being a damsel in distress, but, uh... thanks."

He gave me a light pat on the shoulder. "Anytime."

.

.

Halfway to the Aid station, the adrenaline from the fight seemed to have worn off. While we traipsed to the camp, sticking to the shadows so as not to draw attention, I could barely support Gene as I began shaking. Yet, that wasn't my biggest problem – it was the pain of every kick and punch I had. My right side and hand were on fire and my head was throbbing so much that I was tempted to just lie down in the snow and wait until the ache ebbed away.

But, Gene had other things on his mind.

"Jus' a few more steps. We're almost there."

He shifted his hold, slinging my arm around his neck and propping me up more than I did him. We awkwardly shuffled to the entrance to the small building, after which I grabbed the door knob with shaky hands. I fumbled a little at first, but I managed to turn it and we both somehow staggered over the doorstep and into the semi-dark room. A gust of cold air rushed after us, abruptly cut short as Gene kicked the door closed with the back of his boot, ambling with me to the nearest bed.

Hissing through his teeth when he jarred his injuries, he eased me on the sheets before he reached for the switch. The lights flashed too brightly and I grunted, covering my eyes with my jacket sleeve.

"It's okay", he soothed. His hand landed on my shoulder and gave it a light, yet reassuring squeeze.

Swallowing back a groan, I pried my eyes open and snatched a bottle of water from nearby. I took a mouthful of the liquid and swished. The sink was far from my reach, so I spat into the rubbish bin that was next to the bed. But, then I went rigid, noticing the reddish water and tiny pieces of gravel on the bottom. That was enough for my stomach to twist in dread. I barely dared to breathe when I grasped the edge of the bin and tilted it slightly towards the light.

Please, don't let there be any teeth, don't let there be any teeth... oh, thank God. I heaved a sigh, realising there weren't any. But, still, I ran my tongue over them, just to make sure that nothing was broken.

"When we go somewhere next time...", I muttered under my breath, "Let me pick a place, yeah?"

Instead of an answer, the bed dipped next to me for a bit. Gene settled close and smoothed his fingers into my hair, searching for any bumps. Only then did I see the blood, crusted under his nose and over his lip. A bruise was slowly darkening across his jaw, his cheek sporting a nasty gash. My mouth went slack as I took it all in.

"Holy crap. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

He wasn't, that was clear, yet I decided not to push it. I didn't move while he shifted his fingers along the side of my head, gently prodding. But, that lasted until he touched one spot, making me jerk with a gasp.

"Easy, Jess. It's okay."

"I don't feel like it's okay", I said with a wince.

His eyes darted to me in concern. "Feelin' light-headed? Dizzy?"

"No. It's just hurts like the dickens."

"I'll be quick. I promise."

He returned to his palpating, but this time he was slower. Meanwhile, I snatched the rim of the bed and curled my fingers around it, bracing myself for more painful spots. Gene found one very soon and I closed my eyes tightly again.

"Huh", he suddenly muttered.

I opened one eye slightly, waiting for him to say something. Yet, there was nothing beside that hum.

"Gene, is that a good 'huh' or a bad one?"

"Good", he said, and I couldn't help but scoff. "It's nothin' that some band-aids won't fix." He finally moved his hands away and I nestled my head back into the pillow, shoulders sagging in relief. But, then he tilted his head to the side, his eyes focusing on mine again. "What else hurts?"

I blinked, slightly confused by the way he talked. Of course, he wasn't a man of many words, but this was entirely different. His every sentence was short and seemed as if it was forced out of him.

"Uh... my side, the right one. That guy had a mean kick." I mustered a smile, yet he didn't smile back, not finding this funny at all. Turning back to being serious, I tried shimmying out of my jacket. However, that didn't work out so well. My shoulder got stuck somewhere and I couldn't move, no matter how hard I pulled. "Shit."

I attempted at wriggling out of it when he raised a hand to stop me. Shifting closer, he reached out and helped me get free of the garment. After he pulled my jacket away, he moved to my jumpsuit, unzipping it and cautiously pulling my arms out of the sleeves. He then started peeling it all the way down until he reached my waist.

"Shouldn't you buy me dinner first?", I joked, although my voice was a tad shaky.

Gene instantly blushed scarlet. He avoided my gaze, yet he didn't say a word about this. There was no stuttering, no mumbled replies. Instead, his jaw was set as he grasped the rim of my T-shirt. The fabric was pulled up and over my head and, in the next second, I met with motley bruises covering my shoulder, ribs and the side of my stomach. Most of them were already dark red, making the lump in my throat feel more like a rock.

That's bad. Crap, that's really, really bad. I glanced at Gene, just to see that his face had become ashen. He placed both hands on my bruises and I shivered, even though I tried not to.

"Sorry", I whispered.

Our eyes met for only a second before he looked away again. However, what I saw in his eyes at the time scared me. His eyes weren't as kind as they used to be. They weren't angry either, like after the fight in the alley. In fact, they were dark, distant, belonging to a person who was racked with enormous guilt. I didn't know what was going on with him, but he was definitely far from fine.

While his jaw visibly clenched, he began tracing his hands over the bruises, checking the ribs underneath. However, he soon applied a bit more pressure in one place and I cried out, making him suddenly flinch.

"Fuck... sorry!" My chest heaved, my fingers digging into the sheets. "I'm sorry."

He looked up and his gaze seemed to have softened a little. Without a word, he moved his hand up to my forehead, brushing my hair off my face, before he returned his focus to my ribs. I slowly turned my head to the side, watching him work.

Of course, this wasn't the first time Gene was trying to fix me. However, none of those times – at least those I could remember – were as morose as this one. No matter how battered I was, he would usually talk, advising me to be more careful next time or instructing me how to keep my bandages dry.

But, this wasn't one of those moments. Gene remained quiet when he stood up to fetch some ice. He said nothing even after he wrapped the pack in a towel and handed it to me. I hesitantly took it and placed it against my side, gritting my teeth from the cold.

"I never t-thought I'd see you like that", I said, my breath hitching a little.

"Like what?"

"Kicking arse. You were really good."

I hoped that would lift his spirits, keep his mind off whatever was troubling him. Yet, after moving my gaze up to him, I saw that it didn't help at all. He was looking at the foot of the bed, but the expression on his face told me that he wasn't really seeing it. He had gone somewhere else completely. While I tried to find a way to get up, he clenched his fists hard, so hard that the unbroken skin on his knuckles turned almost white.

"I wasn't good enough", he uttered. Unlike his grip, his voice was faltering, cracking at the edges.

"Why do you think that?"

"'Cause you're still bleedin'." He hesitated for a while, swallowing hard. "And I still have to patch you up."

His hand quivered and he clenched his fist harder to make it still. Lowering himself on the edge of the bed, he reached for the alcohol and gauze on the bedside table, still evading my eyes. However, he didn't manage to do anything, because his hand was shaking again, along with the bottle he was holding.

"Gene."

He was immersed so deeply in his thoughts that he didn't hear me. Having wetted a piece of gauze, he leaned closer and started wiping the blood off my forehead.

"Gene."

Only when I grabbed his wrist did he finally look up at me. Taking his hand and holding it firmly in mine, I used the other to slowly push myself up. My bruises flared up in protest, but I did my best not to groan as I sat up straight in bed.

"Don't beat yourself over this. Please. This is nothing, compared to our usual hospital meetings." Oh, shit.

I inwardly cringed, regretting what I had just said. All of a sudden, Gene looked absolutely horrified, staring at empty space. Giving myself a mental smack, I placed a hand on his unscathed cheek, willing him to look at me again. It took him quite some time, yet he eventually did so. However, when that happened, his eyes were so haunted and guilt-ridden that it twisted my stomach into another knot.

"It's alright", I said, struggling to keep my voice calm for his sake, "And this isn't your fault. Hey." I turned his face back to me when he tried to avoid my gaze again. "You didn't know those two would go after us. You couldn't possibly know."

He still didn't say a word. Yet, after a few moments, he made a small, hardly noticeable nod. Carefully swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I moved closer and embraced him with my free arm.

That was when he did something I never expected. He tightened his hold, not caring that I only had a brassiere on my upper half, and I was suddenly pressed flush against his chest. It wasn't too much to hurt my ribs or make it difficult to breathe, yet it was enough to keep me from moving much. As he slowly dug his forehead into the crook of my neck, the shudder in his breath told me what was wrong.

He wasn't only feeling guilty for what happened in the alley. He was also deeply, genuinely afraid.

"Jess, I'm so sorry."

His voice was small, too small, but enough to break my heart into pieces. Ignoring the familiar stinging in the back of my eyes, I turned my head slightly and placed a kiss on the side of his neck. During that time, he hardly moved a muscle, keeping a secure grip on me, as if I would dissolve into dust if he chose to let me go.

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart", I whispered, "I'm alright."

We stayed like this for what seemed to be a long time before he bulged, his nose brushing against my shoulder. He loosened his hold and we exchanged a glance, returning back to our places. As I lied down again, the picked up from where he left off, dipping some gauze in alcohol and cleaning a spot on my head.

"What do you think may happen after the brawl?", I asked. Although I fought to keep my voice level, the stinging made it sound strained. "I bet the brass won't be happy when they hear about the showdown at the café."

I suppressed a small sigh in relief when he pursed his lips, pondering. He didn't lose the look of a person who wasn't entirely there, yet at least he wasn't entirely consumed by his thoughts. That should count for something, right?

"They might revoke our weekend passes", he mused, "Again."

"That wouldn't surprise me much – again?" I halted, baffled by the last bit. "You mean, this won't be the first time?"

"Nope." He placed a band-aid over the place he had cleaned up and moved on to another spot. His brow creased as he finished and taped some gauze over my forehead. "Our first fight... well, first fights, were back in Toccoa."

"You never told me about Toccoa."

He shrugged. "There ain't much to say."

"The lads apparently have a lot to say about that. Especially about one bloke."

How brow creased as he started cleaning my knuckles. "What's a bloke?"

I found it hard not to smile. "A guy. His name was Sobel or something... I think. Was he a friend of yours?"

"More like tormentor. He was our old CO."

He drifted off into silence, lips pressed in concentration. Once he tested my knuckles and made sure none were cracked, he wrapped a bandage tightly around my hand, tying it off in the end.

"Well, I think I'm done here." He somehow managed to smile. "Try to get some rest."

He rose from his spot and turned away when I grasped his sleeve.

"Not so fast, Gene. Now it's your turn."

He brushed that aside. "Don't worry about it."

"If I don't worry, who will? Anyway, you look like you've gone through twelve rounds with someone. There's no way I'm leaving you like this." I tugged at the strap of his watch. "Come. Sit down."

He sighed in defeat and, soon after, he let me change places with him. As he manoeuvred himself on the bed, I pulled my shirt back on and went for some more ice, tying it up in a cloth. Gene muttered a thanks when I pushed the bundle into his hand and held the ice against his jaw with a grimace.

"We're quite some pair", I huffed. A corner of his lips curled up in response. Picking up a small towel and a bowl of water, I placed them next to the bed. "Let me see that knee of yours, yeah?"

He nodded and reached for his trouser leg.

But, instead of the rustling fabric, a boom resonated through the Aid station.

We both jumped and I accidentally bumped into the bedside table. The bowl I had filled up fell and clattered against the floor, its content spilling beside my feet. Someone swore, but I didn't know whether it was Gene or me.

Dear God. Time seemed to have slowed down as I walked to the window, veins seized by ice, chest tight with dread. I was nearly convinced that I would see something burning on the other side of the glass, an attack coming from somewhere. And then I saw it – a trail of smoke makings it way skywards from behind a nearby building.

Gene shouted after me, telling me to come back, but I was already outside. Heading straight towards danger probably wasn't smart. Doing it in a T-shirt and half of your jumpsuit hanging behind you wasn't smart, either. Yet, I had to see what was going on. The boom hadn't come from far, anyway. I was nearly there, so I picked up the pace as much as my aching side allowed me.

However, behind that corner, there was no attack at all. It was a car accident on the road, nothing more. A Jeep had collided with a dilapidated motorcycle near the CP. Unlike the unfortunate vehicles, the drivers and the passengers were alright. Speaking of which, some of them were arguing quite loudly.

I should be relieved. But, I didn't, because it hit me that one of those guys in the street, who was now talking at the motorcyclist, was Denham. Two blokes, whom I had often seen guarding the CP's front door, were standing nearby.

And just like that, it all clicked into place. Denham wasn't at the building, and neither were the sentries. They were both now at the scene of the accident, leaving the front door undefended.

You've got to be kidding me. It was just my luck that it happened when I was black and blue and unable to run fast, yet it was still a chance. No matter how small it was, I wasn't planning on letting it go.

The argument could stop and the guards could head back to the CP at any minute. So, I scuttled away, reaching for a patch of the road where they wouldn't notice me. All I needed now was to make a run for it. My heart rate doubled as I stared at the path in front of me. One diagonal beeline across the road and towards the door, and I would be inside.

Okay. Alright. Here we go. I gulped and leaned against the wall behind me, eyes glued on the CP. With one hard push, I bolted forward – when something grabbed my arm, pulling me back towards the pavement. I tried twisting out of the person's grasp as an arm wrapped around me. Before I could make a sound, a hand clamped over my mouth and I was abruptly dragged away.

I thrashed, struggling to break free. But, whoever was holding me was too strong, keeping my arms pinned against my sides. I dug my boot heels hard into the pavement to slow us down, but it didn't work. For a single, nerve-wrecking moment, it crossed my mind that those blokes from the 82nd sent someone for payback and I fought harder. I swung my leg back, kicking the person straight in the shin, yet causing him only to grunt.

"Fo' crissake, stop fightin'", a voice muttered, "It's me!"

I almost froze in my tracks. But, I didn't have time to do anything, because a gate behind me creaked open and I was pushed into a small garden, surrounded with a wall. I turned around in the snow, mouth agape, facing the one who had jumped me.

"Gene? What the hell are you doing?"

A crease formed between his eyebrows as he swung the gate closed.

"You're not doin' what I think you are." With every word, he seemed to be more and more alarmed. "Right?"

I glared at him, failing to understand with what was happening. I had imagined plenty of things that would ruin my plan, but this was not on the list. Frankly, I didn't know whether I should be angry or scared.

"Move", I demanded. However, Gene didn't back away from the gate. He remained there, his back almost touching the metal bars. "Roe. I'm not asking."

He shook his head. I lunged forward and attempted at pushing him away, but he grabbed my arm and stopped me. As he held at a distance, I reached out with my free hand and grabbed a part of the gate with all the strength I could muster. But, he yanked me away from it, holding me by the jumpsuit.

"What on earth were you thinkin'?", he asked, "Runnin' straight into Denham's office or somethin' ?" Having taken a closer look at my face, his eyes went wide and he abruptly went silent. "Oh, God."

"Damn it, Gene, don't give me that look! I'm trying to do something!"

"Yeah, I can see that."

"This is none of your business."

"Too late. It already is." His eyes flashed angrily. "Jeez, you're not up for any action lookin' like that!"

"I don't have time for this!" As seconds ticked, I was becoming increasingly desperate. The guards would go back to their posts very soon and I couldn't stay. But, Gene didn't let me, his grip on me unyielding. "Gene, you've got to let me go. Look, I swear we'll have a nice long talk, but I can't miss. I can't!"

"You're gonna get yo'self shot and I'm not lettin' that happen!"

I jerked my arms out of his hold, shuddering in anger. Making a sidestep, I had a go at moving around him, but he was quicker. He caught me mere inches away from the gate and he pulled me against him, rooting me to the spot. I continued struggling, trying to pry his fingers away and get to the gate, when I twisted my side a bit too hard. Pain shot through my ribs and into my head hard enough to buckle my knees. I groaned and I would have probably slumped if weren't for Gene's hold.

Gene looked down at me in concern, grasping my arms when I almost folded in two. But, I ignored him, because a familiar sound reached my ears.

No, no, no, no... My heart felt as if it were jammed in my throat. That couldn't be Denham coming back. He had to be still at the crash scene, this time directing his rage at the Jeep driver. Yet, any bit of hope I harboured was crushed as I heard him talking in the distance. I stood up and, between the bars on the gate, I saw his silhouette crossing the road with the sentries. It didn't last long until he disappeared behind a corner, walking straight in the direction of the CP.

It was too late for anything now.

I pulled myself out of Gene's arms, holding my arm against my injured side. I scooted back until my shoulder bumped into the garden wall behind me.

"Tell me that wasn't... that he's not..." I shook my head at him, my breath instantly turning into steam. "You shifty son of a –!"

Gene flinched, stepping back, but not moving out of my way. He was yet to see how angry I could get. It had only begun to burn in the pit of my stomach as I neared him.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?", he questioned.

"Oh, I don't know!", I said with all the sarcasm I could muster, "Maybe because something like this could happen?"

"I could've helped you. All you needed to do was ask."

A scoff escaped my lips. "Aye, like that would do the trick!"

"It would be better than this."

"Well, think again. You, the rest of the lads – you lot were on Denham's radar since you did that thing in Holland. I lied through my sodding teeth to convince him you had nothing to do with this! And I think that's a good reason not to ask any you for help!"

"So, puttin' just yo' neck on the choppin' block is better?", he asked incredulously.

"Aye."

"Not for me."

"And that's when you decided to screw up the only chance I had." Breathing hard, perhaps from the pain and the cold combined, I pointed my finger towards the gate. "What happened out there, it was my ticket to finding out where my family is. I could've finally got a way to reach Neve. I had a shot –"

"You had nothing. You didn't even have a plan!"

"I had a single shot and you stabbed me in the back!"

"I stopped you from ending up dead!"

"You don't know that. So, shut it."

He huffed, shaking his head. "But, if you got caught tonight, what would've been your next move? Going down swingin'?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"Don't say that." For a second, I could have sworn that there was a hint of sadness in his tone. "Jess, I know what's at stake here. Don't get me wrong. But, right now, there's no way you can help Neve on your own."

"Really? And you're volunteering, I assume?"

"We can think through this. We can figure out something together. But, you have to promise me you'll quit doin' things like these. Please..." By now, his voice quivered with emotion. He clenched his jaw, not paying any attention to the snow that peppered his head and shoulders. "Promise me that you'll stop!"

"No." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not stopping. Not for anyone, and especially not for you!"

His Adam's apple abruptly moved as he swallowed. I thought that he wouldn't say anything after this, and I didn't mind that one bit. All I wanted now was to somewhere else, out of the cold. But, then he uttered:

"Fo' someone against Denham, that sounds a lot like him, does it?"

My heart clenched. However, I didn't let him notice that it hurt.

"You tell me", I said, barely managing to keep my voice low, "Does it?"

"Both of you won't stop 'till you get what you want. So, that's a yes."

He staggered a couple of steps when I shoved him hard and he stared at me in bewilderment. But, there was nothing I wanted to say to him. I turned on my heel instead, pushing the gate out of the way and storming out of the garden.

I didn't look back.

To be continued...

Be ready to fasten your seatbelts, dear readers. In the next chapter, winter is coming - and so is Bastogne. It's going to be a bumpy ride.

In the meantime, every review will be appreciated! :)