A/N:

Thank you kEs-2717 for the review! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter; I hope this one will answer some of your questions!

Thank you BobtheFrog for the review! I know, just writing out the horrors was extremely difficult, but I agree, it's important that it's remembered. I'm happy I was able to portray the terror with some justice I guess? Thank you again for the compliments! :)

Thank you Byron W.4 for three reviews! I think everyone had a hunch about Marie's condition; I didn't do a very good job with the surprise factor lol.

Thank you MASHlover23 for the review! I can't believe it made you cry! I am both honored and feel guilty! I think this chapter will fill your curiosities about how she's going to go along with it. Thanks again :)

Thank you kodaful1 for the favorite and follow!

Thank you Anotherbricinthewall for the story follow!

Thank you beyondeternal for the story follow!

Thank you Finnobhair for another review! Thank you for the reassurance about how I handled the camp. It was really difficult to write and I knew it was something that had to be handled with the upmost care. I hope this chapter will help with your worriment! Thank you again for your kind words :)

Thank you AllieRoexxx for the story favorite and follow!

Thank you anonnymous for the review! The Holocaust is such a brutal and uncomfortable subject, but I don't want people to forget about what happened, even if it happened 70 years ago. Woo! I'm glad at least one person didn't see what was coming, I was hoping to surprise someone lol. Thanks again!

Thank you Guest for the review! Wow! I can't believe you read the whole thing in one day! Thank you for your dedication! Good luck on your midterm :)

Thank you LostInMiddleEarth for the story favorite, follow, and review!

I'm sorry for not updating in over two weeks. I've been busy lately and preoccupied by other things, but I tried to write as much as I could! Thank you to everyone who is still enjoying the story and taking the time to read. It means more than I can ever write down in words. Thank you icanttellthemthatsir for the help with the German! I owe you!

Marie could only gape at the nurse, her heart hammering against her chest so hard it felt as if her entire body was rattling. Her sweat and blood started to run ice cold throughout her body and veins, chilling her to the core. Her mouth hung open like it were unhinged; she was unable to speak as the nurse waited patiently for the realization to set in. Marie's eyes could barely focus on the nurse, it felt like they were vibrating in her sockets, bearing back into her skull. This state of shock was nothing she'd ever experienced before. Even Abernathy's expression resembled extreme shock, as she too stared dumbly at the nurse.

"That… that's impossible…" Marie managed to finally say. "It can't be." She knew her denial was pointless, it was completely possible, but she couldn't grasp the comprehension.

"Well according to the symptoms you filled out on the chart you match all the symptoms of a miscarriage. Vaginal bleeding, lower back pain, abdominal pain, and those cramp-like pains you're having? You described them coming back in waves?"

Marie nodded stiffly, her mouth too dry to answer aloud.

"You're having contractions."

"How could I-" Marie started, lamely.

"Are you sexually active?" The nurse asked matter-of-factly, her eyes focused on the clipboard she held, holding a worn down pencil loosely in her hand.

Marie bit her lip. "Yes I am."

"For how long?" She asked, scribbling down on the chart.

Marie blinked several times, remembering back to her and Malarkey's first time, it seemed so long ago. It felt so wrong telling a stranger about it something that was special to the point where it felt sacred. "Since February."

"I'm going to guess that was the month of conception. Your body is just trying to push the fetus out. I'm sorry. You most likely aborted because of stress. Do you have any issues with your uterus?"

"I don't know." Marie replied feeling overwhelmed by the information. "Listen, I just want to leave now." She started to swing her legs off the bed, her IV still tugging uncomfortably against the bend of her left arm. She felt trapped in this tiny hospital; she wanted nothing more than to escape before any more questions were asked.

"You can't yet, dear. You need to stay overnight so we can keep an eye on you. You probably won't bleed that much longer, but we have to make sure. Your hormones will also be a little haywire for a while." The nurse answered, her tone reverting back to trained sympathy. She guided Marie back to laying down on the cot. Marie could feel tears prickling at her eyes, though she held as much restraint as she could to keep from crying in front of this stranger. She wasn't sure if it was sadness over losing a baby, or from the repercussions she'd be left to face. She reached over and gripped the nurse's hand in a pleading motion. Her other hand grasped the scratchy cotton of the bed sheet, tightening the grip with all her might.

"Please mark down that it's dysmenorrhea. If my superiors found out, I'd be branded with a dishonorable discharge for fraternization and be shipped home. Easy Company is my family, and I would never see the man I love again." Marie begged, her voice shaky with emotion. "Don't mark it as a miscarriage, I'm begging you, please." The nurse furrowed her brow, seeing how desperate Marie appeared to be. She sighed. Marie waited, but the nurse didn't assure her that she'd do as she requested. Marie's hand clenched tighter around the nurse's, tears distorting her vision now.

"Please." Marie urged her voice reduced to a whisper.

"All right, but you still need to stay here overnight." The nurse caved, sighing from her own pity. She did some more writing down on the clipboard.

Marie gasped in relief, cupping the nurse's hand in graciousness. "Thank you." She whispered, wiping her tears with her free hand. The nurse patted her hand and left to finish the paperwork and check on more patients. Abernathy watched Marie hastily continue to wipe the tears from her red cheeks. Abernathy didn't know what to say to console the weeping sergeant before her, how could she say anything to make up for the news she just received?

"Don't tell Don." Marie tersely interjected, taking Abernathy off guard.

"What?" Abernathy exclaimed.

Marie peered over at Abernathy, her eyes firm and serious despite the glassy look. "He can't know about this. It'll destroy him; he's already lost so much. I don't want him to know he's lost a baby, too."

"But… he deserves to know, doesn't he? He would also want to know what you're going through, I'm sure he'll understand." Abernathy tried to reason.

Marie shook her head in disagreement. "I can't tell him. If he knows than the company might find out by his behavior. No one else can know." She finalized. Even though Abernathy didn't agree, she knew she had to respect Marie's wishes. Marie was right about the risk of the people finding out about the miscarriage; maybe it was better this way.

"Okay, Sergeant."

"Call me Marie."

Returning to Landsberg was mayhem; Abernathy drove the jeep back, but almost hit countless numbers of soldiers and civilians whom were flooding the streets, dashing in front of the vehicle without looking twice. Soldiers were ordering the Germans to clean up debris in the streets with great aggression, but the Germans weathered faces didn't reveal scorn, but shame. Whether it was for hiding the truth about the camp, or realization that they had practically lost the war, Marie wasn't sure. Marie held onto her abdomen, feeling its weighted emptiness as she tiredly scanned the packed streets for Malarkey. Abernathy finally managed to park, glancing back at Marie with a worried expression. She studied Marie's appearance: her uncombed hair, puffy eyes, and paled skin made her heart sink in sadness for the poor sergeant. Instead of offering useless words of comfort, Abernathy climbed out of the vehicle as Marie did the same. Before the two women could even take a step, Vest came rushing over to them, practically radiating nervous energy.

"Sergeant Docherty, Private Harper, Captain Speirs needs to speak to the two of you, immediately." He reported, his brows furrowing in worry. Due to the urgency of his tone, Marie knew that this wasn't going to be a pleasant chat.

"Lead us to CP." Marie instructed. The two soldiers reluctantly followed behind Vest, their pace slow as if they were walking the last mile in prison. Marie's head raced with possibilities of punishments that Speirs had waiting for them, but her mind couldn't stay fixed on anything for too long. Her miscarriage and Malarkey left her mind muddled to anything else that demanded her immediate attention. As they walked into CP, Speirs was waiting, his lips drawn in a thin line as his hands were pressed firmly to his hips. He motioned for Vest to leave with a cock of his head; he did so as quickly as possible, but not without shooting the two women concerned glances.

The house that CP was temporarily settled in was so immaculate that it almost drew Marie's attention away from her fuming CO. The walls were decorated with a deep maroon color and lined with paintings and expensive furniture. There was even a bowl of plastic fruit in the far corner. It made Marie upset that people could live so richly so close to a camp where the starving lived in squalor. Speirs took a bold step forward, snapping Marie's attention back to him. They waited in heightened anxiety for Speirs to speak, his scowl focused on them as they stood at attention before their frustrated CO. He walked over to one of the desks lined with paperwork, and picked up one of the papers. He strode over to them and held it at Marie's face. It was her medical report from the tiny, makeshift hospital, neatly typed and copied from the British nurse's written words.

"Why is it that I wasn't informed of your hospital check in until you were there for how many hours?" Speirs asked, his tone low and dangerous. Marie wasn't sure if this was a rhetorical question or if she should actually answer. "Well?" He pressed, annoyed by the lack of response.

"I didn't want to worry anyone, sir." Marie stated, keeping her posture erect as possible.

Speirs lowered the paper, looking at her in disbelief. "So you get Private Harper here to take an Army vehicle without proper authorization and check yourself into a hospital without notifying your superiors?"

"Sir, I was bleeding quite profusely, it almost looked like I was hemorrhaging from the inside. I couldn't afford to waste too much time, seeing that it could be an emergency." Marie explained, keeping her tone strong. "Also, sir, Private Harper phoned Major Winters and notified him of my situation after I was checked in."

"No matter the circumstance, you do NOT leave without gaining permission." Speirs retorted, jabbing a steady finger in Marie's direction. "Unless the two of you actually want to be charged with going AWOL. You know what they do to soldiers who leave their post?"

"Yes, sir… I'm sorry… after what we witnessed in the camps, I didn't want anymore stress to be added."

Speirs seemed to soften with her words. He glanced down at the medical report. "It says you were diagnosed with dysmenorrhea? Will this be a problem in the future?"

"No, sir. It was just severe menstruation brought on by extreme stress. I think seeing the camps caused it." Marie answered, her eyes unwavering. Even Abernathy couldn't tell she was lying though she knew the truth.

Speirs nodded, his expression grim. "Yes, the atrocities at those camps were beyond everyone's comprehension. The locals have already cleaned up the camps and were put on grave detail. They sure got a hell of a wake up call, but those were their own people. Now they're cleaning up the streets, as ordered." He paused; his steely gaze observing Marie's rough appearance, and Abernathy's equally exhausted one. "I'll let this incident slide, but don't expect that again. I still need a report about the women's camp from you, Sergeant Docherty. We'll be moving out in a little over an hour."

"Yes, sir."

"In the meantime, get some rest." Speirs dismissed them. Abernathy saluted and left without another word, but before Marie could exit Speirs voice stopped her. "Sergeant Docherty, are you sure you're okay?"

Marie wearily glanced over her shoulder at him. "I'll be fine, sir. I just need to rest, like you said."

"Before you go, do you mind giving this to Nixon?" Speirs held out a manila folder. She took the folder awkwardly from his hands, still feeling shaken up from all her ordeals and close call with Speirs.

She left CP to find Nixon, and eventually came upon a building that had a large chunk missing from the top story. She could see some of her friends gathered around, watching the citizens clean up debris and throw items they deemed useless into the fires. She spotted Nixon and made her way inside and up the steps of the ruined building. His heavy eyes watched the scenes lay out before him in the blown-out building, as the rest of the eyes followed his. None of them looked sympatric, but Easy Company was beyond sympathy for the Germans now. Not after the camps, or finding out that Hitler had mobilized every civilian to fight, even if that meant children. After she crept behind the silent group, she was about to tap Nixon on the shoulder.

"Hitler's dead." He stated; his news made her withdraw her hand, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her. The guys around her gaped at him in disbelief, as Nixon's dull gaze continued to stare out into the horizon.

"Holy shit." Liebgott muttered.

"Shot himself in Berlin." Nixon added.

Silence followed, though it was clear everyone was wondering the same thing. "Is the war over, sir?" Bull managed to say; asking the question everyone wanted the answer to.

Nixon sighed. "No, we have order to leave for Berchtesgaden at last. We're going to move out in one hour."

"Why? The man's not home." Webster commented. "Should've killed himself three years ago, saved us a lot of trouble."

"Yeah, he should of. But he didn't." Nixon turned on his heel to leave, but Marie raised the folder up to stop him. "Hey, Marie, you doing okay? I heard you were hospitalized."

Marie didn't make an effort to muster any kind of reassuring gesture to make herself appear perky. She didn't have the energy for such nonsense. "I'm fine." Nixon took the folder, still eyeing her with skepticism. Marie dipped her head, trying to shield herself from the curious stares that were all scrutinizing her. Marie started to back up, trying to casually make her exit.

"Hun, you should check up with Malark. He's worried sick about you." Luz suggested as she was leaving.

Marie instinctively clutched her abdomen. "Right." She mumbled before departing from the building. She glided down the stairs and onto the streets. She had been so preoccupied with her troubles that she hadn't even realized a group of Germans were playing violins and cellos in the street. The musicians gathered in a circle, playing an elegant yet sad melody that Marie recognized.

String Quartet In C-sharp Minor, Op. 131. Marie thought, recalling the name of the piece. Anna loved to play this on her cello, Marie could remember those lazy afternoons, listening to her sister practice. The nostalgia calmed Marie, she found herself leaning against a crooked lamppost, listening to the notes carry on through the streets. The spring air felt crisp, despite the smog and destruction that surrounded the demolished village. Marie watched the townspeople cleaning up the debris that littered the streets; the once grand buildings now reduced to rubble.

As she scanned the streets she saw Barbara throw the copy of Mein Kampf into the fire, though it wasn't surprising. The hatred in Barb's eyes was strong; she elbowed a German out of the way and stormed in the opposite direction. Marie frowned, following Barb's figure until she disappeared from her line of sight. She went back to people watching, hoping to pick out Malarkey from the crowd. A few feet from Marie, her eyes snagged on a strangely familiar figure; she squinted her eyes to focus on the woman. The woman was bent over, picking up the broken legs of a chair from the cobblestone streets. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back in soft rolls that ran down her back. She wore a simple floral dress that extended past her knees. Marie didn't understand why, but she swore that she knew this woman. Marie pushed herself off the lamppost, taking a few tentative steps forward as she observed the familiar stranger. Marie studied every detail of the woman as she tossed the chair legs into the smoking pile of trash. One of the Germans shouted the name 'Liesel', causing the woman to turn and flash a friendly smile. Marie gasped sharply in acknowledgement. She knew that smile. Marie dug into her pack, pulling out the crinkled photograph that had haunted her since Belgium. There was no doubt; she was the formerly pregnant woman from the photograph. She smoothed out the creases, seeing the smiling woman beam back at her. She shoved the photo back into her pack, and hurried off to find Abernathy.

Abernathy was sitting on a the cobblestone street, scribbling furiously in a journal. Marie's looming shadow drew her attention away from her journal. She slowly looked up; her eyes lined with deep circles and appeared to be disturbed.

Abernathy looked down at a page in her journal, her hands gripping the binding tightly. "In the woman's camp there was writing carved on the inside of the huts." She started, her voice weak. " 'If there were a God, He will have to beg my forgiveness.' That's what one of them said." Marie kneeled down beside Abernathy, seeing how clearly upset she was from the memory. The words did have a potent power that burned uncomfortably into Marie's mind. She pushed the tortured words from her mind, remembering the important reason why she had came to seek out Abernathy's help.

"I need you to translate for me."

Abernathy's expression didn't change. "Why do you want to talk to any of these people?"

Marie pulled out the German's photograph and showed it to her. She pointed to Liesel. "This woman is here in Landsberg right now, I need to talk to her."

Abernathy glanced between the wrinkled photograph and Marie's desperate eyes. She was confused but she didn't argue. Abernathy stood up and followed Marie down the road, seeing that Liesel was still cleaning up broken furniture in the street. Marie looked over at Abernathy, waiting for her to get Liesel's attention.

Abernathy awkwardly cleared her throat, "Entschuldigen Sie mich."

Liesel turned around to see the two soldiers standing before her. Her eyes widened with fear as her body tensed up, but there was a subtle hint of boldness and pride in her face. She protectively crossed her arms, shielding herself from the Americans that stood before her. Her pale blue eyes shot back and forth between the two, like a nervous, yet alert animal.

"Was willst du?" Liesel demanded suspiciously.

"Ask her if she's the woman in this photograph." Marie held out the photograph, gesturing for Liesel to take it. Liesel stared down hesitantly at the photo in Marie's hands. Marie beckoned further, but Liesel didn't make a move for it.

"Bist das du?" Abernathy asked.

Liesel's lips parted in curiosity as she gazed down at the photograph. She slowly took the photo from Marie's hands and brought it closer to her face. Liesel let out a sharp gasp as her hands began to tremble. Her eyes darted in Marie and Abernathy's direction, looking absolutely astounded and a little terrified.

"Woher hast du das, Amerikaner?" Liesel questioned, her tone firm.

"She wants to know where you got this." Abernathy said to Marie, looking just as lost as Liesel.

Marie took a deep breath, closing her eyes as the horror and pain came rushing back in an instant. She opened her mouth and just let the words flow, not holding back on too much detail. She needed to move on, she needed closure, just like Emilia's ghost had said to her. "I encountered your husband in Belgium. I was injured on the ground when he found me. I thought he was a soldier, so I attacked. After I made my move he then went to choke me. I killed him." Marie squinted her eyes shut; her head tilted down as if her shame was physically being bore down upon her shoulders.

Abernathy didn't speak; she only stared at Marie in shock. Her stunned silence made a sudden anger erupt in Marie's chest, the cause being guilt and the need to end this conversation quickly.

"Tell her!" Marie clipped in stressed impatience.

Abernathy told Liesel everything Marie said as Marie watched Liesel's facial expression morph from grief to stone. When Abernathy concluded Liesel didn't utter a word, her lips were stretched so thin it seemed as if they disappeared. Marie kept her head lowered as she waited for a reaction to erupt from the shocked woman.

In an instant motion, Liesel's opened hand launched itself at Marie, and struck her across the face. Her long nails dug deep into Marie's sensitive skin, cutting her and drawing blood. "Du kleine Schlampe!" Liesel roared at the top of her lungs, a vein from her neck was practically popping out.

"Stopp!" Abernathy yelled, her hand clamping down on Liesel's wrist. Liesel fought out of her grip and lunged for Marie again, but Abernathy shoved her away. Liesel's hysterics had started to draw attention from the Germans and the soldiers in the area. Most had stopped working to watch the spectacle unfolding by one of the trash piles.

Schlampe. There was that word again. Marie thought to herself. She didn't pay any mind to be bleeding face; in fact she welcomed the abuse with open arms. She deserved it.

"Mörderin!" Liesel shrieked as Abernathy continued to push her backward. Some MP hurried over to the German woman and restrained her. She continued to spew colorful obscenities at Marie, whom remained motionless with her head bowed.

"What's going on?" Marie heard Malarkey's voice, but she refused to look up. She felt his hands grip her biceps. "Marie? What happened, are you okay?" He gave her a small shake to make her look up.

Marie finally looked up into his round, dark eyes. He was so close she could count every familiar freckle on his face. She felt so dizzy all of the sudden and wanted to do nothing but lay down and hide away from this mess. Malarkey had seemed to understand her silent pleas and led her toward one of Easy Company's occupied buildings as a curious crowd encircled them. He pushed through the crowd, his grip strong on Marie's arm. She let him lead her all the way into the building, it wasn't as pristine as CP's, but was still spacious all the same. They stopped in a dim room, which appeared to be the dining area. Malarkey checked over her disheveled appearance, his eyes locking on the blood trickling from her cheek. He pulled out a cloth from his pack and started applying pressure at the scratch marks.

"What the hell was going on out there? First I hear you're in the hospital, then I see a German lady trying to kill you." Malarkey started, though his tone still had a touch of softness to it.

"I'm sorry." She said earnestly.

He sighed, watching the blood soak through the cloth. "This might leave a scar, she got you pretty deep. I think I'm going to have to get Roe to take a look at this." He gently glided his thumb across the gash, feeling the depth, not caring that her blood was now on his fingertips. "Why were you in the hospital?"

Marie gulped. "Severe menstruation brought on by stress. It's called dysmenorrhea." Lying to him felt like a physical blow had been delivered right to her chest. His attentive features acknowledged her, but even then she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth.

She suddenly burst into tears, collapsing down to her knees. Malarkey caught her, bewildered. She sobbed into his chest, feeling awful, sad, stressed, and everything else in between. The nurse had warned her about her emotions, but guilt and sadness seemed to cloud over her senses. Malarkey held her, assuming her grief was because of the camps. He rubbed her back in slow circles, letting her weeping go on uninterrupted. He dreaded to remind her that they were moving out to Austria in less than an hour, but he held her in the vacant house for as long as he could.

Translations:

Excuse me.

What do you want?

Is this you?

Where did you get this, American?

You little bitch!

Stop!

Murderer!