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Very excited for this!!!
Had to pretend I didn’t know anything about this for a while as some of the reenactors I’m friends with will be extras in this film.
Just received some very cool original WW2 kit this week for my reenacting and I wanted to share it because I’m very excited to get out to some more events.
Which brings me to another point. I’m really sorry to everyone that’s tagged me in fics and posts over the last few months, between work and getting into reenacting, life has been so busy. Please don’t feel like I’m ignoring anyone. I’m trying to get around to everyone’s posts as soon as I can 😊
Reprieve (BoB/MoTA x OC)
Summary: What if Bucky and Buck managed to escape the forced march that night in Germany? What if in a really roundabout way, they got some help from some locals and found their way to the 101st? What if! Loosely follows the events of this AU. Author's Note: No romantic pairings (a bit of Speirs/OC mentioned). Features my BoB OC, Kat Gray. This is very much a "magic of fanfiction" story - doesn't fit with canon and certainly would not have happened in real life. It's fine - we're all insane here anyway. Enjoy! Warnings: mentions of PTSD, and descriptions of war-related injuries. Words: 8k+ (I am so sorry)
“Welcome back to the land of the living Major. You look like you’ve seen better days.” The woman’s American accented-voice is clear as a bell and yet Bucky still thinks he’s hallucinating. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Bucky tries to sit up.
"Not so fast," she says, leaning over him so he can see her.
“Where am I?” He croaks.
"You’re in an aid station with the Airborne. You've been out for two days. Take it easy." She sounds familiar.
"Have we met?” he asks, ignoring her request to sit still. His ribs ache, and his throat feels so dry he feels like he’s swallowed sand.
"Once upon a pub in England, Major Egan." The woman busies herself around him, gathering bandages and other supplies, and when he can finally force his eyes to focus his gaze, he sees her, and he can't help but let out a breathy, disbelieving chuckle as he recognizes her.
"Of all the gin joints..."
She turns around and grins. "Something like that." She holds out her hand. "Corporal Kat Gray, sir. It's good to see you."
He takes her hand gratefully, squeezing. "I'd say the same, but--" he winces as he reaches up to touch his eye. He can't see out of his left eye at all. It's eerily similar to how he arrived at Stalag Luft III, and he wants to vomit at the thought. "How--"
"You and Major Cleven have had a rough few days." She says, her tone taking on a more somber tone. "He's just fine." She adds, reading the panic on his face. "He’s being debriefed by our CO.” She leans in. “I’m going to try to clean this a bit better,” she says gently. “I’m going to adjust you for a minute, but if you can look up for me, I won’t need to touch you much.”
He feels a strange mix of shame and relief at the way she’s talking to him - telling him what she’s going to do and giving him the power to say yes or no… it’s certainly an adjustment compared to what some visits to the infirmary in Germany were like.
He looks up at her, and she nods reassuringly, reaching to adjust him so she can see him better in the dim light. “How on Earth did you end up here?”
The last few days all feel like a blur, and Bucky bites back the rising panic at the thought of what his and Buck’s escape might mean for their friends. “Buck and I have been in a POW camp since ‘43.”
Kat is quiet, meeting his gaze with large, dark eyes. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Obviously you escaped. Nearly ran right into our outpost.”
He sighs, scratches at his jaw. "They evacuated the camp. We’d been having conversations with our guys for a week or so when we knew the Germans were going to march us. We agreed that a few of us should try to get back. I remember finally finding a window to make a run for it, and--" he stops as he flashes back to a dark night, moments of complete panic, and finally, watching Buck escape over that wall. "-- got the butt of a rifle for my troubles."
"That explains the bruising." She leans in, her fingers cool against his fevered forehead. "Did you have a previous injury here?" Her gaze is narrowed in on a spot somewhere near his cheekbone.
He really doesn't want to talk about it. It was hard enough trying to tell his guys what happened to him, and he's just not sure he has the words to try to describe it to someone else. He'll have to eventually. If they ever make it back... but that's about the only time he thinks he can manage to get the words out. "Yes." He says finally. "When I went down…. They walked us through a city that had been recently bombed, and between the civilians and the guards..." He trails off, jaw tight.
Her eyes are understanding. She doesn't press him, and he's grateful. Instead, she leans back against the wall at her back, folding her arms across her chest. "So I've got good news and bad news. The good news is I don’t think you’ll have any lasting damage, even in that eye. I don't think your orbital bone is broken, but you'll be sore for a while. The bad news is that you need to speak with our S-2, on account of how you might be a spy and everything."
Bucky blinks at her.
Kat smiles. "It’s just a joke. But… procedure. You know it goes. Technically I probably shouldn’t have asked you anything about how you got here.” She shrugs, waves a hand dismissively. She stands up straight, takes a few steps back from him. "Think you can walk?"
“Would it matter if I can’t?” He grumbles, pushing himself into a sitting position.
“Of course,” she frowns. He has to remind himself where he is and who he’s with. He’s gotten so used to hiding any major or minor injury, any sign of illness, and being forced to stay on his feet for what felt like hours on end, sometimes in the middle of the night.
Kat continues, “Though, sir, if you were to… as a Major, of course… give me permission to order Captain Nixon to come to you instead, I would really really enjoy that.”
.
Outside, he shields his eyes from the bright light with his right hand. His head throbs, but he keeps walking. He glances down at the woman beside him.
Helmet in her hand, he gets a better look at her now that they're not in a room lit with barely a single bulb.
"Where are we?" Bucky asks, voice low.
"Somewhere between Belgium and Bavaria." She says. "We’ve been here for a week, pulled off the line not too long ago.”
Her voice is scratchy, whether from overuse or from illness, he can't tell. She has a fading bruise on her left cheek, a mirror of the one on his face. She looks older than the last time he saw her.
He remembers her, fresh-faced and in a clean uniform on a pub night where he and Buck and Benny were all together and intact. Not a scratch on them or dust on their uniforms. He remembers her easy smile and the way her men closed ranks around her at the first sign of his flirting.
They walk a few more feet to a requisitioned building that's practically falling apart. It's warm though, and that's really all he cares about. That, and seeing for himself that Buck is here and alive.
He hears his low voice before he sees him. Buck is standing bent over a table covered in maps. Across from him are two captains - one he vaguely remembers and one he hasn't met yet. All three straighten at his approach.
"Major Egan, this is Captain Winters and Captain Nixon."
After two hasty salutes that Bucky feels uncomfortable receiving, Nixon's hand is the first outstretched for a shake. "Egan. Good to see you on your feet."
"Thanks." He replies distractedly as he looks at his friend. "Buck? Entertaining guests already?" He asks, gesturing at the room they're in - it clearly used to be a kitchen.
Buck smirks. "Should have remembered to get down the good silverware."
"What, uh…" He wants to ask what happened after the woods, after-- he remembers finding Buck in the woods, hands trembling and alone. He had waited for him, said he knew he'd catch up eventually, and said George was gone.
They walked the entire night and next day, sticking to the woods as much as possible until they got close enough to the front to hear American voices. It's a bit hazy after that. Between the certain head trauma and the exhaustion, he doesn't remember much.
Buck shakes his head, almost imperceptible if Bucky hadn’t been searching his expression. Later, it seems to say.
Nixon gets Bucky’s attention by clearing his throat. “If you can come with me for a minute, Major.” he says, gesturing to another room off to one side.
“Nix, I really don’t think–” Kat tries to interject.
“Kat, we can’t make exceptions.” Nixon says warningly, though his tone is nowhere near harsh. He turns back to Bucky. “Look, Major, I remember you, and I know you’ve already been through this with your far less kind hosts, but I’ve got to ask you a few questions before we do anything else.”
With a look at Buck, who nods reassuringly, Bucky goes.
They go through the whole thing - name, rank, serial number, what’s the national anthem, who is the President and when was he elected… the whole thing. All things considered, Bucky actually thinks Captain Nixon goes pretty easy on him.
They join the others after a few more minutes, Bucky absently rubbing his temples which are already starting to ache.
The taller man -- Winters -- seems to want to get down to business. He turns to Kat. "Corporal Gray. Hang around for a minute?"
"Yes sir." She says, finding a place to perch on a counter behind Buck. As she hoists herself up, Bucky catches the glimpse of a dirtied bandage that takes up nearly her entire arm as her sleeve rides up.
Trying to focus on the task at hand, he and Buck go over every second of their escape until Bucky can't remember much else. His jaw clenches as Gale recounts how he half carried, half dragged Bucky to the other side of a ditch so they could get to the American side of the line.
"Gotta say, you're a couple of lucky bastards," Nixon says. "A few hours later and that town would have been either empty or back in German hands." He meets Bucky's eyes.
They go over a map for a few more minutes."We were marching in this direction,” Buck says, pointing at the map, “But it’s hard to know for sure, and there's no way to know how long they were going to make us go."
"Well, they'll meet up with the Army at some point." Nixon says firmly. "Nothing classified about it - we're making gains in all directions. It won't be long."
Bucky nods, trusting him and his intuition. At least he could sleep at night knowing he didn't resign his friends to too many more months of hell.
"Any chance you'll be the one to break them out of there?" Bucky asks.
"It's hard to say." Winters says eventually. "We're assuming our next move is into Germany, possibly farther into the Reich than Berlin. We won't know until we get our orders." He looks apologetic, and both Bucky and Buck know that despite their rank, despite the fact that they’re all officers in the Army, Winters can’t tell them much more. He probably shouldn’t have told them any of this at all.
Winters switches gears, turning to Kat. "What's the diagnosis, Kat?"
"Concussion watch for Major Egan," she meets his eyes briefly, "Two broken ribs and obviously the damage to his left eye." Her tone is pretty clinical, but Bucky doesn't take it personally. "I'd like to get some food in both of them, and Major Cleven's got a cough I don't like the sound of."
"Well, he’ll fit right in then.” Nixon says.
Kat rolls her eyes and kicks the Captain lightly with one dangling foot. "I think the interrogation will have to continue another day. I'd like Roe to check them out too." She continues quietly. At their nod, she takes charge, a hand on Buck's shoulder to guide him out the door, and a glance over her shoulder at Bucky signaling that he should follow.
Outside, he finally asks. "Why is it you don't have one of those lapel pins yet, Gray?"
She snorts. "I should think it's obvious, Major."
"Really, the rank thing is all bullshit anyway." He says.
"John..." Buck grumbles as they walk.
"It's okay--" Kat says, stopping only when they hear a loud whistle overhead. Bucky's entire body tenses. They’d been hearing artillery in the distance at the stalag for weeks, but it’s different when it’s happening right over their heads. "Over here." Kat’s voice is firm, urgently directing them into a doorway.
"Is that--" Buck stops short of asking, the earth rumbling under their feet for a moment.
"Enemy artillery. They're not that accurate. We're too close- they're just on the other side of the river."
"And yet...." He looks down at the way she’s setting her helmet firmly down on her head and raises his eyebrows at the urgency in her voice.
She sighs. "Let me find you both a place to sleep and some food, and then I'll tell you what the last few months have been like."
Kat leads them upstairs where they're given a small kit with some essentials, and a few k-rations to split between the two of them. They've even got a chocolate bar to split, and Bucky swears he's never tasted anything so good in his life.
"Don't go bragging about that," the soldier who handed it to him says. "I'll never hear the end of it."
Kat chuckles from her spot on a beat-up sofa in the center of the room. It’s some sort of supply depot - different members of the company trail in and out, hauling boxes with ammo, rations, and even mail at one point. It’s clear many of them are bunking in here too.
She tells them about the last few months in Bastogne - her eyes go a little hazy and her face clouds over in grief as she skips some of the nastier parts. “Once you hear the whistle of artillery like that, you don’t forget what comes after. That’s why I’m a little jumpy. Even though they’re missing us with mortars all day, it's just…” She shrugs. “It’s never a sure thing.”
"Tell me about that arm, Kat." Bucky says, curiosity getting the better of him. "Let me guess, I should see the other guy?" He asks.
"Not exactly." She says, smile dimming. “Like I said, German artillery went off pretty much every day, at all hours. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
"Got knocked on her ass." Another man sitting opposite her says. His eyes have been narrowed on Buck and Bucky since they arrived.
"Oh, shut up, Lieb." Kat bites back, but there's no heat in her words.
Buck and Bucky share a look, the barest hint of a smile on Gale's face. The friendly banter makes Bucky ache for a simpler time, when they’d be doing nothing but giving each other shit and playing cards all night. It feels like a thousand years ago.
“I was wounded from shrapnel here,” she gestures at her arm. “Lost quite a bit of blood. Lucky for me, I was unconscious for the aftermath.”
More whistling suddenly sounds overhead. It sounds louder, closer than before. It's strange - Bucky knows how to anticipate enemy fighters, but this is uncharted territory for him.
"Everyone up." Kat orders, the few other men in the room standing hastily and gesturing that the Majors should follow them. "Wait--" She stops, pausing to listen. The urgency in her expression feels different than it did before, outside on the street.
"We gotta go, Kat." Liebgott says harshly, eyes a little wild.
Another whistle. The entire building shakes.
"Christ," Buck bites out through grit teeth.
On instinct, Kat reaches out to steady Bucky, one hand falling tight on his wrist. They keep each other upright, and he sees Liebgott doing the same thing on Kat's other side. His hand is clasped tight around her elbow, and then the next whistle comes screeching in.
"Go!" Buck says, always the leader, even when he's out of his element.
The four of them go racing down the steps, pausing only when the building shakes so violently, Bucky is sure it's going to come down with them still inside.
"Move!" Kat urges, pushing at his back when he falters. "I didn't nurse you back to life just to watch you die here, Major Egan." They all trip over each other halfway down the stairs when another blast hits, and Bucky coughs as dust and crumbled plaster rain down on them from above.
They've all stopped on the ground floor, crouched low as if that would stop an entire building from coming down on them. Buck's arm is over Kat's shoulders, Liebgott pressed tight to her other side.
"Medic!" The shout is nearby, and frantic. Kat squirms under Gale's arm.
"Major Cleven, I need you to let me up." She says, calm.
Buck blanches like he hadn't even realized he was doing it. "Sorry."
"No time for apologies, and none needed." She says. "Lieb, take them to the CP? They’re bunking there for the night."
With a quick smile, she's gone as if she had never been there in the first place, and they're left a little dazed, watching her go.
Out on the street, they hear raised voices, but Liebgott ushers them on, his steps quick. He keeps giving Bucky a look, so finally he decides to just tackle it head on.
"You don't have to keep looking at me like I'm going to steal your girl."
To his amazement, Liebgott's eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before he laughs, loudly. A cackle, really. "Major, she's not my girl. Though if you want a shiner to match the one you’ve already got, you keep on making the moves on her. In fact, I'd pay money to see what happens when--"
"Alright, alright." Bucky says. "I get the picture. Jesus."
"You haven't met Captain Speirs yet." Liebgott says, an amused smirk still on his face, stopping in front of yet another half crumbling building. "Third floor. Good luck. Doc Roe is up there too - Kat wanted you to see him."
Buck levels Bucky with an exasperated look as soon as they get inside. "Been awake for less than two hours and already causing trouble."
"Trouble finds me, Buck."
They head upstairs and walk right into an argument. A man is in the center of the room, hands on his hips. Another medic is in front of him, looking for all the world like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Uh-- sorry to interrupt." Gale, ever the peacemaker, speaks up.
The man turns, giving them a view of the captain's bars glinting on his garrison cap. He says nothing, turns back to the medic in front of him. "Roe, listen. I already told her she's better off in bed but just do me a favor and give her a shift tomorrow morning. She's out there doing god knows what no matter what we say anyway. Might as well do it where you can keep an eye on her."
He exhales, turns back to the two newcomers. "Majors Cleven and Egan? I’m Captain Speirs. You'll be bunking here until we can figure out what to do with you."
Bucky bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t smirk. This is the infamous Captain Speirs that Kat may or may not be involved with.
"We hope we'll be out of your hair soon." Buck says.
"That'll be up to Doc Roe’s evaluation, I'm afraid." He gestures at the other medic, informally introducing them. "You've seen Kat already?"
Bucky nods. "Just got debriefed and almost shelled to death. She's somewhere dealing with a casualty."
Speirs' expression doesn't change too much, but it's enough that Bucky notices the way his jaw clenches and he shifts his weight.
"Man of few words." Bucky mutters under his breath.
"Better go see what's going on. No patrol tonight, so take your time, Roe, and for God's sake, make sure Lipton actually gets some sleep?"
"Yes, sir."
As Speirs leaves, the medic turns to them with a tired smile. "Sorry for all the commotion. We don't usually have visitors."
Bucky snorts. "You don't say." He settles himself on a chair while Roe has Buck move into a better light so he can see.
"I know Kat already did a preliminary check but I'll just do my own, if you don't mind." He frowns. "Those scars are awfully symmetrical, Major."
Bucky goes tense. Doesn't like the way Roe is sizing up his friend. Doesn't want Buck to have to relive any of it if he doesn't have to.
"Any of your jumps involve you going feet first through a German farmhouse window, Doc?" Buck rasps, eyebrow arching.
Roe hums, already moving to clean up a scrape from Buck's temple. "We had some nice fellas clear out a spot for us to land on our last jump."
"You also jump out of your planes on purpose."
Roe grins. "This is true." He wipes at a small spot of crusted blood near Buck's hairline. "This healed well enough. No infection. Seems like you might be stuck with them, though they might fade eventually."
Buck doesn't say anything. No more probing questions from the Doc either, for which Bucky is grateful.
“You and Kat both have that same cough…” He says, almost to himself. “We’ve got pneumonia going around, but your breathing sounds okay. Keep that scarf on,” he says, gesturing to the olive drab scarf tucked around Gale’s neck. “Try to stay warm. If we get another supply drop I might have something else for you, but it’ll probably have to wait until you get back home.”
Home. Thorpe Abbotts… it all seems so impossible.
"You're up, Major Egan." Roe says, waiting until he's seated in front of him to dab lightly at the bruising around his eye. "You're lucky you didn't lose this eye." He says mildly. "Looks like Kat cleaned it well; I'm not going to risk irritating it further." He stands back, crossing his arms. "About those ribs..."
Bucky bites back a wince and a noise of pain as Roe applies pressure to his midsection. “It’s not the first time. No time to let them heal up and they probably didn’t heal right the first time, either.
Roe meets his eyes. “Are you short of breath? Any stabbing pain?”
Bucky shrugs. "I've had worse."
Roe must read the expression on his face, because he doesn't push. Whether he can read in between the lines or not, he gets the message, and Bucky is grateful, because he can't talk about that night again. Not the night he was captured, and not the night he and Buck finally got out. He's just-- he wants to forget it ever happened.
"You'll bunk here with the other officers tonight." Roe says. "I'd get some rest before chow time, if I were you."
Buck and Bucky have no problem taking orders, and they're both almost asleep on their cots before their heads even hit the pillow. Bucky still feels anxious about how they're going to get back to England, but he hears the laughter of men outside, and is just grateful to be alive. To be back amongst allies, even if it's only temporary.
.
Bucky wakes early. He sits up slowly, groaning. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone move. “Jesus Christ, Kat.”
She cackles. “I’m so sorry. I was checking to see if you were still asleep.” She says, tone full of mirth.
He huffs as she laughs for a few more seconds before taking a step closer.
“How’s your head?”
He shrugs. “Sore.”
“Ribs?”
“Feel like I was kicked by a horse.”
“Do you think you can eat?”
He nods and Kat gestures that he should follow her. In the large living area, a few of the officers he met the day before are sitting around a long table, metal bowls with what looks like the world’s worst oatmeal in hand.
“Morning.” Captain Winters greets them both. He looks down at his wrist and checks his watch. “You should still be asleep.” He says pointedly to Kat, who has been doing her best to hide a cough in her elbow, but everyone can see the shadows under her eyes.
“Sorry sir. Wanted to check on the majors.”
“Where’s Buck?” Bucky asks suddenly, feeling guilty he hadn’t even checked.
“Took a walk.” Kat says. “Roe is with him.” She gestures for Bucky to sit, leans in to speak quietly to him. “He had a rough time sleeping.”
Bucky hadn’t heard a thing. He was so out of it, the exhaustion of the last week catching up to him.
Winters is watching him carefully. Clearing his throat, he asks, “So. Explain these nicknames to me.”
It’s so unexpected that Bucky can’t help but laugh. Bucky accepts the change in subject gratefully. He tells the whole story. Leaves out some of the more colorful details Gale would have added.
“You enlisted before Pearl Harbor?” Kat asks.
“So you beat us to the war in more ways than one,” Another officer at the other end of the table says, grinning. Bucky was introduced to Harry Welsh the night before, but he was so exhausted he doesn’t think he did more than exchange pleasantries. He likes him right away - he’s got a glint in his eye that showcases his good humor.
“Say, Gray, did you know if anyone in the Air Corps gets kicked off two crews, they get sent to the infantry?” Bucky leans back in his chair, accepts a bowl of what appears to be oatmeal from Kat as she passes it along.
“That explains a lot,” Welsh says with a wry smile.
Bucky grins. “Smartest guys in your division probably came from us first.”
Kat looks between the two men, shaking her head but smiling as she gives Bucky a faux stern look. “You’re confused, Major. We’re not just infantry. We’re the Airborne.”
The other Lieutenant down at the end of the table grins. “Could have used a few more of you bomber boys to clear the way for us on D-Day.”
“Kind of a shame I missed it, but I was otherwise occupied.” Bucky says. He looks away, not wanting to think too hard on what was going on in his head when they heard the invasion had started. It hadn’t been a good stretch of days for him.
“Morning,” Buck’s voice announces himself, and he comes in looking better than Bucky has seen him for weeks. The shadows under his eyes are still there, those scars on his cheeks prominent against his pale skin, but he looks more like himself.
“Major Cleven,” Kat says with a smile. “Got a bowl with your name on it.” Her tone is pleasant, but doesn’t leave any room for refusal. “Have a seat.”
A gentle smile tilts Buck’s mouth as he takes the bowl from her hands. “Yes ma’am.”
Buck and Bucky tuck in to their food, letting the chatter of Easy Company fill in the silence. Bucky feels…. Envious. It’s a strange feeling. He watches the way the officers and Kat and the various men who drift in and out of the building interact, and besides the guys in the Stalag, the boys in The 100th haven’t always been lucky enough to get to know their comrades like this.
It’s clear to him that Easy is a group that have been together a long time.
“What’s on your mind?” Buck asks, voice low.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just– wish the other guys were here. That’s all.”
Buck watches him closely. “Yeah.”
Kat is called away to the aid station before long, and they’re left with Captain Winters. He’s quiet, but asks them both where they’re from and how long they’ve been in the service. It’s an easy conversation, Lieutenant Welsh chiming in here and there before they both excuse themselves for a meeting.
“Something’s going down tonight.” Bucky says.
Buck nods, tucking another spoon of oatmeal into his mouth.
Kat comes back a little while later, lips in a tight line. The Majors watch her carefully, trying to figure out if they should go back to their rooms and give her some space.
“If you need something to do you can help me over here for a minute,” she says quietly. Her voice is flat.
“Everything okay?” Buck asks, tone gentle but inquiring. He’s good at this part - trying to get someone to open up without pushing. God knows Bucky has been on the receiving end of it more than enough times.
“Fine, I– I don’t know how much I can say.” She gestures for them to join her, and she hands Buck a handful of bandages to roll. “I’m just tired of losing people.” She says quietly, almost to herself.
Buck and Bucky don’t say anything – what is there to say? They know too how people - friends - are there one minute and gone the next. They busy themselves helping her, all three of them falling into a contemplative silence.
“You know,” Bucky says, “you’re keeping these guys alive, Kat. Even an idiot with only one eye can see that.”
That gets a smile, even a small one, and Bucky starts to feel for the first time like everything is going to be okay, eventually.
.
The door downstairs flies open with a bang in the middle of the night, and Bucky is on his feet before he even realizes what he’s doing. He has a flash of a memory - a clanging cell and screaming German voices - before he remembers where he is.
Hearing Kat’s loud voice doesn’t do anything to slow his heart rate. Across the hall, Buck is also up and moving, heading down the stairs with just one look at Bucky. Raised voices fill the space and for a minute Bucky can’t tell what’s happening.
“Here. Put him here!” Kat’s voice is high pitched and urgent, and he can hear the frustration in her voice clear as a bell.
“Majors, welcome to the patrol,” another gruff voice snaps, and a man with sergeant stripes turns to them. His face is exhausted. “Make yourselves useful and help Kat.”
“I need a light!” She calls out, looking around for anyone who can help. “Now!”
“Here–” The same sergeant is shoving past Bucky, holding out a lighter.
Buck and Bucky are moving, helping to hold down the soldier on the table so Kat can see.
“You’re all right, just keep still,” her voice lowers, hand pressed to the man’s forehead. “Major, there’s a syrette in my left pocket.”
It’s unclear which one of them she’s talking to, but Gale moves first, extracting the syrette quickly. “Better if you do it, Kat.” He says.
She takes it with nimble fingers, sticking it in the man’s shoulder. “I need Captain Speirs–” She breaks off, seeing someone over Bucky’s shoulder. She snaps her fingers. “Lip, I need the captain, we need a jeep.”
“Everyone else clear out, give her some space.”
“Not you–” Kat says, hand clasping Gale’s forearm. “Need help for one more minute. Need you to hold him here,” she says, gesturing towards the wounded man’s other shoulder.
With a deep breath, Buck does as instructed, bracing the man as Kat does something to his wound that has Bucky turning the other direction, suddenly woozy as the soldier lets out a harsh cry, writhing slightly under both Kat and Buck’s bracing hold.
Bucky moves closer despite his rolling stomach, wanting to help, but Kat lifts her head, shaking it at his approach.
“I don’t think so, Bucky. Not with those ribs.” She turns her attention to Sergeant Martin, still there with the lighter. “Sarge, I need that light closer.”
“Kat.” Buck’s voice is a little strangled, and Kat looks over quickly, eyes flicking down to the man on the table who has stopped writhing, eerily still.
She pushes him aside quickly, pressing two fingers to the man’s pulse. She sighs. “He’s okay, he’s just unconscious. Probably from the pain. It’ll be harder to move him that way.” She looks back at Martin, “Sarge, we need at least one other person.”
Just then, Lipton comes back in with Speirs hot on his heels, face tight with tension.
“Kat.” Speirs says, voice firm and full of relief all at once. “What happened?”
“Sniper to the shoulder. He’s stable but he needs a surgeon.” She responds without looking up, missing the look on the captain’s face when he sees her whole and intact.
“Martin.” Speirs barks.
The man doesn’t flinch, barely even takes his eyes off the younger private on the table. “We took fire almost immediately when we crossed the river but we got three prisoners. Liebgott and Web are trying to get some info out of them with Nixon.”
“And Patterson?” He gestures to the young private.
“Sniper, as soon as we turned a corner. No one saw him until he fired. We turned tail right after that.”
Speirs runs a hand down his face. Everyone in this room looks exhausted. Bucky wonders if he’s misreading the tension - they look how he’s felt for the last six months. “Get him in a jeep.”
Kat, Lipton, and Martin work quickly, leaving Buck and Bucky momentarily to stand there, trying to comprehend what just happened.
“Buck.”
His friend looks up, eyes refocusing, but he seems a million miles away.
“All right?”
“Fine. Just— he couldn’t have been eighteen.”
“He just turned nineteen two days ago.” Kat says roughly, reentering the room and shoving past them. “We had a party.” Her voice is a bitter, angry thing. “We keep doing these prisoner snatches, and we lost a man during the first one. It just feels so… pointless.” She looks up at them, schooling her expression. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be–”
The doors open again and Kat is back to being all business. Martin and Lipton come back inside a minute later, and the night stills, like nothing happened in the first place. Martin and Lipton lean against the now-empty table, arms crossed over their chests, and Kat all but collapses in a chair, hands trembling slightly.
“Appreciate your help, Majors.” Lipton says with an exhausted smile.
“Any time.” Bucky says. “Though I wasn’t much help.” He’s got that tone again, he knows he does, where he’s feeling like he’s not doing enough, that he’s not enough, and it earns him a sharp look from Buck.
“You two should go back to bed,” Kat says quietly. “We’re going to try to get you out of here tomorrow and it’ll be a long journey back to England.”
There’s a weird feeling brewing in Bucky’s gut where he almost doesn’t want to leave. It’s the venture into the unknown - every time they’ve been in a situation where it was going back home, back to England, or having something bad happen as the alternative, things have gone wrong.
Despite being on the front, this feels like the safest they’ve been in months, and he’s reluctant to give up this camaraderie.
Kat must read something on his face, because her shoulders straighten. “Major Egan, you’re going to go home. That’s– the rest of us don’t have that choice.”
Properly chagrined, Bucky nods. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Her expression is gentle, so he knows there was no bite behind her words, he just yet again is coming to terms with the fact that she’s been through hell and isn’t the same person he met all those years ago at the pub.
“Respectfully, sirs, off to bed with you both. Right now.”
Buck puts his hands up in surrender and heads up the stairs. Bucky trails behind him, Kat on his heels. Martin and Lipton bring up the rear, both looking like they could fall asleep standing up if need be.
After a whispered conversation in the hallway, Kat taps on Bucky’s door before entering. “I didn’t mean to be harsh, before.”
“You weren’t. You’re right.”
“Still, I know it’s not easy to feel… grateful, or relieved about your situation. Especially not after what you’ve been through.”
“It doesn’t need to be the ‘who has it worse’ Olympics, Gray.” He shrugs. “Two weeks ago it was probably me, but today and tonight it’s you.” He smiles at her. “Look, you’re going through this shit day in and day out and still putting on a brave face for everyone else.” He turns to face her fully. “Ever considered a transfer to the Air Corps?” He winks to let her know he’s kidding.
“Not in a million years, Major.” She nudges him with her elbow. “Get some rest, Bucky, and we’ll reexamine those ribs in the morning.”
“Thanks, Kat.”
.
The morning comes too soon for Bucky’s liking, and when he heads downstairs, there are only the remnants of the night’s watch group milling around. No sign of Kat anywhere, which makes Bucky a little anxious, but he heads inside the other room anyway, conversation dying as soon as he enters.
A lieutenant whose uniform looks so clean, it almost hurts to look at him snaps to attention.
“No, no, no.” Bucky says, tone wary. “Uh, at ease. No need for that.”
“Sir.” He says anyway, and there are a few snickers from the other men.
“Any chance for a coffee?” Bucky asks, sending a relieved smile at a man he hasn’t met yet who hands him a cup.
“It’s not hot yet but give me a minute.”
“Thanks, uh–” He squints at the stripes, “Sergeant–”
“Malarkey.”
A few more bodies filter into the room, and finally Kat appears, spending a second frowning and fussing over Bucky. She prods gently at the bruising around his eye and he winces, trying to cover up his reaction. She sees it anyway, lines between her brows getting deeper.
“Hurts worse than yesterday?”
“Not really. The same.” He replies. He’s extremely aware of all the eyes in the room being on him and Kat, and it makes him shift his weight, suddenly uncomfortable. “Why don’t you get a cup of coffee before it’s gone, huh?” He says. “Friends are waiting for you.”
Kat looks over her shoulder. “Yeah. Okay. But don’t think you’re getting away with pretending you’re fine, Bucky.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Kat gives him one last stern look before making a beeline for Liebgott in the corner who is holding an extra cup. He hands it over when she gets close, and Bucky watches the way the man eyes her carefully, like he’s trying to make sure she’s not going to fall apart any second.
It makes Bucky wonder about his guys, about the rest of the 100th and how they’re faring. He wonders how long the guilt will eat at him – probably until he sees for himself that they’re alive and well.
The mood in the room is tense, and Bucky wonders what happened before he came down, and notices one man’s bleary eyes on him. Bucky knows that look. The man’s attention quickly diverts to another fresh-faced private who enters the room quietly.
“Whatcha lookin’ at, Webster?”
The room falls quiet.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, college boy.”
Bucky frowns and makes quick eye contact with Kat from across the room. Her expression is concerned.
“Are you drunk, trooper?” The lieutenant who had saluted Bucky asks, voice sharp.
“Leave me alone.”
Bucky has seen this before. Hell he’s been this before, though at least he had enough sense to not directly mouth off to Colonels Huglin or Harding… not in earshot anyway.
“Answer the question.”
“Yes, sir, I am drunk, sir. Drunk. Sick and tired of fucking patrols… taking orders.”
Sergeant Martin shifts on his seat. “Hey, Cobb. Shut up. It’s boring, okay?”
“Taking his side, Johnny?”
“Both of you–” Kat tries to interrupt.
“Shut up, Kat.”
A pin could drop three floors above them and everyone would hear it. Bucky’s jaw clenches tight, and he registers Buck entering the room behind him, footsteps quiet, clearly having overheard the entire thing.
Kat doesn’t look angry. She looks… sad? It makes Bucky wonder what happened to Cobb before he got to this point. Bucky knows the toll watching your friends die and feeling hopeless can take. He knows it doesn’t take much to reach a point you can’t come back from.
“Watch your mouth.” Liebgott fires back, taking half a step forward before Kat puts a hand on his arm to stop him.
“Sarge, they’re on their way in.” A voice from the doorway says, and Buck and Bucky move out of the way as Captain Winters and Speirs enter the room. They step out, not wanting to intrude more than they already have, but not before Malarkey hands them the promised cups of coffee that have been percolating for the last few minutes.
Bucky nods his thanks, and settles in a ripped up armchair across from Buck.
“Was hoping to get an update, but sounds like they might be in for another bad night.” Bucky says, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It’s not real coffee, but it’s warm, and he feels better almost instantly.
“What was all that about?”
Bucky shakes his head. “They’re– everyone’s tired.”
“He went after Kat.” Gale quirks a brow. “Doesn’t seem like that happens too often.”
“She held her own just fine.” Bucky says, smirking. “Besides, how many times have you had to stop me mouthing off like that? After all this shit… surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.”
They both stop for a second, savoring their coffee and trying to pretend they’re not eavesdropping.
“... I want you all to get a full night’s sleep tonight.” Captain Winters says, and the following silence is loud. Bucky’s eyebrows raise. “In the morning, you will report to me that you made it across the river into German lines, but were unable to secure any live prisoners. Understand?”
“I’ll be damned.” Buck whispers.
Everyone streams out, fresh smiles on their faces. It’s contagious, and Bucky stands when Winters greets him, leans in to shake his hand.
“Not a word, Major.”
“Of course.”
Speirs stops in front of them, and even he has upturned lips on his normally stoic face. Kat trails a few steps behind. Bucky can see it now, the way it seems like they’re extremely aware of the other one’s presence, like two magnets being drawn together, but trying to keep it quiet.
“Majors.” He says quietly. “Got an ETA on the transport to get you out of here. Tomorrow morning we’ll get you on a jeep to the hospital, and a ticket back to Thorpe Abbotts.”
Tomorrow.
It feels impossible. Buck’s hands are on his hips as he looks at the ground, a small smile growing on his face. Bucky imagines he looks the same way.
“Christ.” Bucky grins, throwing his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Home.”
“Then we do whatever we can to bring our boys home with us.” Buck says firmly, eyes on his friend.
“They won’t let us fly–”
“I’m getting back behind that stick, John.”
Bucky nods. There’s no talking Gale out of something once he makes up his mind. And the scariest part is that Bucky knows he’ll be right there in the seat next to him if it comes down to it.
“Major Cleven,” Kat says, and she looks hesitant to interrupt. “I appreciate your ambition, but please take the time you need to fully recover.” She looks between them. “Both of you. Please.”
“Only if you do the same,” Buck says with a raised eyebrow, though his smile is assuring. “Heard you coughing all night.”
Bucky has forgotten that Speirs is still there leaning against a table in the corner, but sees him straighten out of the corner of his eye. He bites back a smile.
“Who is the medic here?” Kat asks archly.
Gale holds up his hands in surrender. “Just making sure you take your own advice.”
“You’re not the only one,” Speirs says quietly, but he too has an easy smile on his face, and with the way Kat double takes, it seems she’s just as surprised as the rest of them. “It should be a quiet night. We’ll get some chow and then get you both ready to go. Kat?”
“With you in a second,” she says, and watches as he leaves. She turns back to Buck and Bucky. “You heard Captain Winters, boys. A full night’s sleep is in order.” She crosses her arms over her chest, sending them a wry smile. “Is it weird that I’ll miss you both a little bit?”
“Don’t let tall, dark, and brooding over there hear you say that.” Bucky says quietly, an amused grin quirking the corners of his mouth.
Kat’s eyes widen. “Bucky! You can’t—”
“Jesus Christ.” Buck whispers, but he laughs too.
“I’m just teasing you. But seriously, Kat– you might not notice the way he looks at you, but I’ve only been here for two days and I can see it. Hell, every guy in there cares about you.” He gestures towards the nearly-empty room behind them. “You should hang on to that.” His voice is suddenly serious, and it makes Kat frown.
There’s so much she doesn’t know about what he’s been through in the last few months. There’s so much he doesn’t know about her. But they both know the toll war can take. They both know how easy it is to lose themselves in the horror of it.
“Can we do anything today to help?” Buck asks, trying to break the suddenly pensive mood, and Kat nods.
“If you’re up for it. We can find something.”
Hours later, they come back from helping Kat at the aid station feeling… dare Bucky say, fulfilled? He talked to so many guys, helped the ones who weren’t able write letters home to their parents and girls, and it gave him that bit of himself back, the piece he’s been trying to rediscover since he went down.
Mealtime is more subdued, but in a contented way that he hasn’t experienced in months. He’s still getting used to having halfway decent food to eat. Buck seems to be soaking it all in too - his quiet conversation with Welsh producing a few laughs and the sight of a smile on his best friend’s face gives him a little bit of hope that maybe they’re both going to be okay at the end of all of this.
.
The next morning they’re awoken by the sound of artillery in the distance. It’s not close enough to be alarmed, but Bucky was hoping for a quiet morning so they could make their getaway in peace.
He’s not really worried about anything else happening at this point, but they’re so close to enemy lines. That nagging thought in the back of his brain won’t fully go away, and probably won’t until he’s back on British soil again.
A knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts, and he straightens fully, finishing buttoning his shirt.
“Morning.” Kat says, looking tired, but happy. “We’re moving out soon. Time to go.”
Bucky nods. “Be down in a minute.”
They have nothing with them, he or Buck, so it doesn’t take them long to get ready. Downstairs in the CP, they’re greeted by the full cadre of officers.
“Good morning, majors.” Captain Winters says, saluting them as they enter. “We’ve got a transport for you back to the field hospital. You’ll link up there with the Red Cross, and then it’s an evacuation flight back to England.”
They say their goodbyes, and Bucky feels the melancholy mood settling in, even though he’s relieved to be on his way. He and Buck head outside with Kat and Doc Roe meets them at the truck.
“They’ll probably want to evaluate you again when you get to the hospital, but it should be quick.” He shakes both their hands, and then excuses himself, leaving them alone with Kat.
“I guess this is it,” Kat says, and Bucky and Buck share a look. She has no idea she’s echoing a conversation they had with each other years ago, but it makes them both smile, memories of an easier time when they had no idea what was coming next washing over them.
“Thank you, Kat.” Buck says, voice quiet and contemplative.
“You don’t need to thank me,” Kat says quietly. “I’m just happy you’re both okay and going home.”
Bucky shuffles his feet, unsure how to properly put into words what these few days with Easy Company have done for him and Buck both. Obviously the alternative could have been the end for both of them, but the universe putting them back in Kat Gray’s orbit still seems too good to be true.
“You take care of yourself.” Bucky says roughly, pointing at her.
“That’s my line.” Kat says, before closing the distance to reach for his hand, squeezing tight.
He returns the contact, unexpectedly feeling his throat getting thick. “You’ve got a good thing going here, Gray. Don’t do anything stupid, understand?”
“The same goes for you, Bucky.” She frowns. “I don’t like the idea of either of you flying again.”
Bucky shakes his head. “It’s a rule - downed pilots don’t get back in the seat. Buck just does best when he can lead. He’ll be itching to do something.”
“And you?”
Bucky smiles ruefully. “I really don’t know what the hell I want, Kat.” For this damned war to be over, he thinks.
“Kat, time to go.” A voice off to the side calls, and both she and Bucky turn to make eye contact with Captain Nixon.
“Coming.”
“Go on,” Bucky says. “Be safe.”
“You too, sir.”
Kat salutes him, which he still finds incredibly uncomfortable, but he returns it dutifully, smiling softly at her. He watches her walk over to Nixon, who hands her a pack that’s been sitting by his feet, and he can see the moment her posture changes and she prepares herself for whatever’s coming next.
“Train’s leaving the station, John.” Buck drawls.
Bucky turns to his friend and takes his offered hand as Buck hauls him into the back of the transport truck. The engine starts, and Bucky takes a minute to say a quiet prayer for Easy Company as they grow smaller in the distance, hoping that better things on the horizon are coming for all of them.
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Major.
Interlude Pt. 3: It's Been a Long, Long Time
John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)
Series Masterlist
A/N: this popped in my head and wouldn't leave me alone...enjoy!😂
Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd
Word Count: 1.3k
October 27, 1943: Stalag Luft III: Sagan, Germany:
The loud droning sound of a siren rang in the crisp morning air as John and his fellow prisoners walked through the barbed-wire gates of Stalag Luft III. He ignored the pain in his body, the squelching of mud beneath his frostbitten feet, and the shouts from the Germans. He had one thing…two things on his mind.
Ruth. Buck.
POWs lined either side of the barbed wire path, and Bucky’s eyes scanned every soldier for a familiar face, for Ruth’s or Buck's specifically. The gaunt and hollowed men that stared back at him sent shivers down his spine and extinguished the little hope he had.
How long had these men been here?
How long would he be here?
He was broken from his thoughts by shouts and calls for the new arrivals filling the air.
“James!”
“Captain!”
“Jimmy! Jimmy, did Frankie make it?”
Just when he was about to give up his search, he heard it.
“Bucky!”
He knew that New England accent.
“Bucky, over here! Over here!”
John’s eyes flew to his left, and a smile tugged his lips at the sight of Charlie Cruikshank. “Crank!” he yelled, pointing at the pilot.
“You made it!! Crank laughed as he waved his hands in the air.
It was then that the Major finally saw more of his men beside Crank, jumping to catch a glimpse of him over the wall of men, each with a wide grin on their lips. “Murph!” John chuckled. “Glen!”
“Hey! Any of you know if Ruth or Buck made it?”
Before they could respond, a voice on the other side of the path called out to him. “John Egan! Your two o’clock.”
It was a voice he feared he’d never hear again. He turned with breakneck speed towards it and the ever-present weight on John’s chest lightened just barely as his best friend grinned at him through the barbed wire. Wait…he hadn’t smiled like that since… Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but Gale cut him off.
“They’re here, John,” he nodded, bracing against the fence. “They both are.”
Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest as Gale’s words sunk in. Ruth was alive. Ruth was here. It was a surreal moment, almost too good to be true, but somehow it was. A rush of emotions coursed through him, relief washing away the guilt and grief that had gripped him for the past month. His throat became tight as he continued with the group, sparing Buck a slightly teary, but wide smile.
Gale’s grin turned into a smirk when he yelled after him one last time. “And what took you so long?”
John’s processing was a blur, his mind only thinking of the woman he so desperately wanted to see. To hold in his arms. To tell that he loved her. To kiss her lips. It seemed only a few minutes had passed when he was released from the intake building and into the muddy compound he’d call home for the foreseeable future. The men from the 100th quickly approached him…but Buck wasn’t with them.
“Welcome to the south compound, Bucky!” Crank laughed, throwing his arms around the Major.
John suppressed a groan when his sore muscles were jostled a little too harshly and returned the hug. “Looks like you dodos made a nest for me this time.”
They all broke out into chuckles as they each greeted their friend. His eyes scanned the group in search of Buck, but they didn’t find him. “Where’s Buck?”
“He’s in the center compound,” Murphy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ve heard rumors of compound switches, though.”
He was alive and that’s what really mattered.
Nodding to himself, John took in their physical conditions, starting with the healing cuts and bruises on each of their faces. Pure elation faded into anxiety when it dawned on him what Ruth had been through since he last saw her. He’d been so excited she was alive that he overlooked the fact that she’d been shot down, captured, interrogated, and shipped to this horrid place…the same as him. Fearful questions ran rampant in his mind:
Was she alright?
Did the Germans…he couldn’t bear to continue the thought.
His expression became deathly serious, a line forming between his brows. He had to see her. “Ruth. Where…where is she? What compound is she in?”
“Ours. You wanna see her?” Glen asked with a sympathetic smile. They’d all seen the aftermath of the nurses’ supposed deaths, and for the first time in nearly a month, the major’s expression wasn’t tight with grief.
John nodded immediately and followed as fast as he could behind the group. The pain radiating through his entire body was pushed down, drowned out by the anxiety that bubbled up his chest. His mind seemed to play out the worst possible scenarios of her journey to the camp...her condition. A gentle hand on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts, and he looked up at the door to the long wooden building before him.
Charlie nodded at him, his blue eyes holding no malice over the words they’d shared before the Münster mission. “Our room’s the second door on the right.”
“Your room?” Johnny asked, his brows furrowing.
“We thought we owed it to you and Major Cleven, sir," Murph spoke quietly. "To look out for your girls.”
As his gaze drifted once again to the door, John couldn’t will himself forward. His legs wouldn’t move, his feet seemingly stuck in the mud, unable to take a step. The same what-ifs from earlier filled his mind. The uncertainty, the worry, and the past month’s guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Noticing the Major’s hesitation, Frank nodded. “She’s alright, Bucky. Really.”
“Yeah,” Johnny murmured, pursing his lips for a moment. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, the dim light casting long shadows along the hallway. The air was heavy with the smell of damp wood and something musty he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He reached the second door on the right, the door marked with the number 4 in faded ink, and hesitated once again.
John’s heart pounded in his ears…she was so close. After thinking he’d never see her again, hear her voice, her laugh, feel the warmth of her skin, it felt like a dream. He raised his hand to knock and the sound echoed through the hallway, the anticipation almost suffocating as he waited for a response.
“Come on in!”
At the sound her her soft voice, a shaky breath escaped his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. The crushing weight of his fears began to lift from his shoulders. All the pain and uncertainty melted away into relief and pure joy…she was real, and she was there. Finally not a figment of his imagination tricking him into believing she was alive.
With trembling hands, he turned the handle and pushed open the door, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes scanned the room. The walls were lined with three-tiered bunk beds, and a table sat in the middle, but what stole his attention was the mess of blonde to his right. It was slightly longer than he remembered…the usually perfect curls nothing more than waves barely reaching her shoulders. She stood with her back to him as she tidied the room, wiping down the center table with one hand. The other arm hung limply in a sling.
“Anyone interesting come in today?” Ruth asked, keeping her back toward the door while she cleaned.
The words that came to John Egan’s mind refused to pour from his lips, so he stood there speechless, watching her scrub the dirt from the surface, muttering to herself when it wouldn't come off easily. A few seconds passed until she spoke again, finally turning toward the doorway. “If you guys don’t start cleaning up-”
When her gaze landed on his battered and bloody figure in the doorway, color drained from her face and the small towel in her hand dropped to the floor.
“John.”
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Interlude Two: Memories
Gale Cleven × Hope Armstrong (ofc)
Series Masterlist
This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.
Summary: The loss of his sister never gets any easier for Hugh but at least the occasionally letter keeps his spirits up. Meanwhile the letters for Hope only remind her of what she has lost.
December 1943, Thorpe Abbotts, England
Hugh lay sprawled across his cot, legs dangling over the side and he swung them repeatedly, knocking Rosie’s leg with each swing.
The dark haired man had sighed disgruntledly at first, glaring at his fellow pilot who seemed oblivious to his actions and read over a letter over and over. It wasn’t until an hour later when Harry entered the hut that Rosie decided to let his annoyance be known.
“For heaven’s sake, will you stop it with the leg swinging? There’s more of a draft in here than when I’m in the air,” Rosie huffed, standing from his cot and moving to sit with Harry on the opposite side of the room.
“What?” Hugh asked, turning his head, pencil between his teeth as he gawked at Rosie. “What are you on about?”
Harry’s chuckle interrupted Rosie’s next complaint, “What are you reading, Hugh?” He gestured to the crumpled piece of paper in Hugh’s right hand.
“Oh, this?” Hugh glanced down, his dark eyes trailing over his scrawling handwriting, “It’s nothing.” He sighed, rubbing his thumb over his sister's name written at the top of the page.
He’d received a letter from his parents that morning and despite a few questions regarding his own well being, they mainly spoke about Hope. Despite both the Armstrong siblings being very different in character they got along far better with each other than their own parents.
Hugh remembered the long summer days back home when they would sprawl out in the field of wildflowers behind their house, or paddling in the river that ran along the base of the hill, or the long evening spent in the hayloft, laughing or reading in comfortable silence. Hugh missed the simplicity of those days with all his heart.
He’d sent Hope a letter last week, it was brief because he wasn’t sure what to say. The relief of knowing that his sister was in fact alive and okay despite everything had been the greatest relief. Although he couldn’t imagine what she must have been going through, he knew his sister and he knew nothing could truly break her.
As he stared off into space, Hugh didn’t notice Rosie and Harry standing behind him, reading the letter over his shoulder.
“How’s Hope?” Harry asked, glancing anxiously at Rosie as they both shared the same look. They too had been relieved to learn that both nurses and Frank were alive, having seen how heartbroken Hugh had been after the terrible news they weren’t sure how much more he could take.
“She’s fine,” Hugh mumbled, closing the letter he’d received from his sister. It was dated from last month and despite knowing that she had been ‘alright’ then, he couldn’t help the anxious feeling that built in his stomach at the uncertainty of her current state.
Rosie, sensing the anxiety building in the room coughed loudly, “Well Gentlemen, shouldn’t we be heading off, I don’t really want to spend my 48 hour pass sitting around here with you sad sacs.”
Both men chuckled at Rosie’s eagerness. He’d managed to convince his two friends to join him at a jazz club in London and they had willingly obliged.
Hugh stood, grabbing his cap and jacket from their hanger on the wall. “Will there be women at this club?” He lit up a cigarette, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
Rosie rolled his eyes, “Yes Casanova, there will be women there.” He shoved Hugh lightly, sending him tripping out of the door.
“Alright, I was only asking.”
Harry grinned, watching the two men spar playfully.
“I’m telling you, Croz. You should have seen him at the flak house. Couldn’t keep his eyes off anything with a pair of legs,” Rosie dodged Hugh’s hand coming up to hit the back of his head. “I’m just saying, think he could do with some female company.”
Harry nodded, quickly grabbing Hugh’s arm before the play fight could turn into anything more, “Come on you two bachelors, let’s find you some ladies.”
December 1943, Stalag Luft III, Germany
Hope sat in silence, reading her brother's words carefully. She couldn’t believe that she finally had a letter from him, despite being a considerable few weeks out of date, just knowing that he was thinking of her made everything a little more bearable.
She clutched the page close to her chest, blinking back the tears that seemed determined to fall. Hugh had been a constant throughout her whole life, and while she was grateful he didn’t have to suffer as they did, she missed him dearly.
Rolling over on her small cot, she tugged the rough, wool blanket up to her shoulders, shivering beneath the thin material. Her eyes fell upon the other sleeping forms around the room, nestled in silence other than the soft snores from Frank.
Hope’s eyes felt heavy as they fell on Ruth, her light hair tousled and her mouth slightly ajar as she slept peacefully in John’s arms. A deep sadness fell over Hope, a heaviness that had weighed her down ever since John’s arrival and it seemed to weigh even heavier now.
Rolling over, she muffled a quiet sniff in her pillow, concealing her grief from the otherwise peaceful room. The picture of Gale and Hugh that remained by her bedside smiled back at her, their wide grins had encouraged her to drag herself out of bed each morning, and it bought comfort on nights like these. The image brought back memories from the party all those months ago: the lights, the music, the laughter, Gale’s lips against hers…
Hope pressed her eyes firmly closed, squeezing them tightly as the silent tears escaped down her reddened cheeks. For now she only had her memories and they would have to be enough.
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rosie + smiles
Love at First Sight
Pairings: Dick Winters x f!reader
Summary: Dick and Y/n have kept their relationship secret throughout the war, but now they’re in Austria why does Dick still feel the need to hide his love for her.
Thank you so much @slytherinsprincess01 for your request.
Austria, August 1945
Stretching her long, pale legs down from the stone dock, Y/n’s toes skimmed over the water, relishing in its cool touch. The afternoon sun was humid and clammy, she could feel the perspiration trickling down from her hairline and down her back.
Glancing up through her sunglasses, she spotted the familiar head of red hair swimming towards her, his strong arms powering him with ease through the calm water. She loved moments like this, where it was just the two of them enjoying the peace of the Austrian countryside.
His redhead surfaced beside her legs and she passed him down the white towel, which he accepted gratefully, rubbing it over his freckled skin.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” she sighed, “Just the two of us.”
Dick smiled faintly, pulling himself up out of the water. She tried to ignore the silvery trails of water that ran down his pale skin, dropping onto the stone dock.
He turned away from her, drying himself quickly and pulling on his PT shorts and Camp Toccoa t-shirt without a word. Y/n wasn’t sure what was bothering him, he’d been quiet and blunt with her all morning. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment but she knew something wasn’t right.
Dick’s face always remained calm but his forehead creased a little more than normal and his thin lips remained downturned, barely reaching up to form a smile when she’d placed a small kiss on his cheek in the hallway. She knew he wanted to be careful, but no one else was around.
Dick squatted down beside her, tying up his boots swiftly before he offered his hand to her. She grinned, accepting it gratefully and lifted herself from the edge.
Coming face to face with him she knew that was the final straw, his eyes glanced away from her, unable to meet her gaze and he stood stiffer than normal, almost at attention.
“Dick, what’s wrong?” Y/n reached out, touching his cheek softly but he shrugged her off, clutching her hand and pulling it back down to her side. Her chest ached at the sudden rejection and she took a step back, face contorting in confusion.
“You know we can’t… not here, someone might see us, and…”
And there it was again, the same thought that had been haunting her for months. He was ashamed of her, there was no other explanation. Dick was a good man but even good men had needs, was she only there to fulfil his needs and nothing more.
“You're ashamed of me, you say you’re not but that’s the only reasonable explanation,” she stood, clutching her dress shoes and Class A jacket close to her chest. “I can keep doing this, Dick. The war is over and I want to live my life now, a life I thought I’d be living with you.”
Y/n spun on her heels, ignoring the rough ground beneath her soft feet as she hurried away, not bothering to turn back and answer Dick’s desperate calls.
Marching back towards the house Easy Company was occupying, she tried to suppress the tears that threatened to spill, Dick’s words echoing in her head.
She didn’t notice the officers sitting on the balcony as she rushed up the stone steps, flailing as she stumbled. The other officers watched her, marked concerns on all their faces but it was Nixon who stood up, swiftly following the young, female officer inside.
“Y/n? Y/n, what happened? Where’s Dick?”
The last question caused something to snap in Yn’s chest and despite knowing she might say something she would regret to a senior officer she no longer cared.
“Your precious Dick is down by the lake. Do me a favour, Captain. Don’t be fooled by his ‘good boy’ charm, he’s just like the rest of you.”
Without any more explanation, she turned away from the officer. She’d said what she had to, she’d let Captain Nixon and his curiosity get to the bottom of it.
Dick let a long sigh leave his lips as the figure of the woman he loved disappeared into the trees in front of his eyes. Why hadn’t he just been honest with her?
It wasn’t that he was ashamed of her, or that he didn’t love her, both statements couldn’t have been further from the truth. He just knew how the men would talk, about him, and Y/n. He didn’t want his relationship to be at the centre of their idle gossip.
Pushing himself off the stone dock he gathered up his own uniform, just in time to see Lewis swaying towards him.
“You’re up early,” he chuckled and Lew merely pulled an unamused face, his dark eyebrows creasing.
“Well, I was just going to head to bed for a few hours when I saw First Lieutenant Y/l/n running past me in floods of tears. As we have a mutual friend I decided to come check on you.”
Dick’s head snapped up, his uniform falling to the ground softly as he stared at Lew. He felt the insatiable pull to go running from the dock in Y/n’s direction but he stopped himself, he didn’t want to create a scene.
“She was… crying?”
Lew rolled his eyes, “Yes Dick, whatever you said to her has clearly had some sort of effect, whether you intended it to or not. You need to do right by her, Dick,” Lewis paused, “I know how much she means to you. I know I asked you to come to work for me after this is all over but I can see the way you two look at each other, you’re not very good at hiding it. I just want you to be happy, Dick.”
Seeing his friend speak so honestly caused a lump to form in the back of Dick’s throat. How could he have been so blind, so stupid as to push the only woman he’d ever loved away from him? The fear he’d felt leaving her behind on D-Day, the nights he’d spent pining for her when he was in Bastogne, it all meant one thing. He couldn’t live without her.
“I don’t know what to do, Lew. I’ve pushed her away trying to keep our relationship a secret so we didn’t become the center of the men’s gossip, but in doing that I’ve just hurt her more.”
Lewis sighed, running his hand down his rough stumble, “You really are stupid sometimes, Dick. Y/n wouldn’t care if the whole world was gossiping about your relationship. The only person she wants in the whole damn world is you.”
Feeling his heart drop to his stomach, Dick swallowed hard. He sometimes hated how well Lewis Nixon knew him, and Y/n apparently. He should have known that he couldn’t keep a secret like this from his best friend.
“I need to do something, Lew. I can’t have us shipped off to the Pacific without her knowing the truth. I just… I don't know what to do.”
For the first time since arriving in Normandy, Dick looked scared. Lewis had often been envious of how well Dick carried himself, how well he led his men. Now Dick looked like a heartbroken teenager.
“Right, come with me,” Lewis threw his right arm over Dick’s shoulder, pulling him tightly to his side. “I’ve got a plan, and it’s going to work.”
“I don’t know, Lew,” Dick mumbled, trying to wriggle his way out of the shorter man’s grip but Lewis remained firm. “Are you sure? I know how some of your ‘great’ ideas have turned out.”
Clearing his throat, he stood up, ignoring the little cheer from Lewis who sat beside him. His eyes scanned the crowd of men, men he’d led into combat many times over the last year, but it wasn’t their eyes that made him nervous. He soon found the face he’d searched the crowd for, tucked at the back, almost out of view, beside her fellow WAC officers.
“Yee of little faith,” Lewis snorted, jabbing Dick in the ribs playfully. “Just trust me, Dick. I’m the intelligence officer after all.”
Dick wasn’t sure what had made him trust Lewis’ great idea. At the time it seemed plausible, it might even work, but as Dick watched Speirs step down from the platform after announcing that Shifty Powers had won a ticket home, Dick was no longer sure.
His heart leapt in his throat as he unfolded the crumpled piece of paper from his ike jacket pocket, smoothing it out on the wooden stand in front of him. Glancing down at the words scribbled in Lewis handwriting they seemed to blur into one and his heartbeat was all he could concentrate on.
He cleared his throat. “I have a small announcement that I would like to share with everyone.”
He glanced back at Lewis who merely nodded in encouragement.
“There is something that I have to come clean about. I’ve been keeping a secret from you all for… a long time.”
It was true. Dick had first met Y/n when he was on leave during his paratrooper training at Camp Toccoa. He’d never been a believer in “love at first sight’ but watching as she had flicked her curly locks over her shoulder, he couldn’t have fallen harder.
“I’ve hurt someone very dear to me because I was worried about what others might think about me, but the war is over and I don’t want to keep secrets anymore.”
Dick looked out on the crowd of confused faces, but the only person he could focus on was Y/n. From her spot at the back of the group she looked just as confused as the rest of them, but a faint smile played on her lips, a smile that Dick hoped would grow wider once he’d finished his speech.
“Because I’m in love, and I’ve been in love for a very long time with this very special person.”
“Come on Major, just tell us her name already,” someone shouted from the crowd and Dick wondered if it had been George Luz but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
“Alright, alright,” Dick waved them off laughing, his nerves disappearing slightly. “Could Lieutenant Y/l/n step forward please?”
He watched as Y/n nervously made her way through the crowd of men, their eyes following her as she approached the platform. Dick stepped down, moving in front of her so that they were barely a few feet apart.
He could see the hurt swimming in her eyes as she tugged awkwardly at her uniform jacket. Should he be doing this? Was he really taking Lewis Nixon’s advice? What would happen if he messed everything up?
“Y/n, I need to apologise,” he stepped forward, taking her small hands in his. “I never meant for any of this to turn out this way. You mean everything to me and I am far from ashamed of you.”
He was pleased to see her frown fade slightly, being replaced by a faint smile. “You’re the most important in my life… and I couldn’t imagine getting through any of this without you.”
His cheeks burned like a furnace with the gaze of the entire company on him. Heat spread up the back of his neck and he felt as though he must be as red as his hair.
“Y/n, I need to…” he stopped himself, fumbling his hand inside his jacket pocket and grasping the small spherical object. Pulling it free, he felt himself dropping down in front of her, his eyes remained on hers as he held the box out towards her, flicking back the lid and revealing its contents.
“Y/n, will you…”
“Yes.”
Dick raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on his lips, “You haven’t even heard my proposal yet.”
“It will always be ‘yes’ for you, Dick,” Y/n grinned widely at him as he slipped the delicate silver ring onto her finger.
“I know it’s not much, I promise when we’re back in the States I’ll find you something more fitting,” he promised, running his hand over the worn, silver band.
“No,” she placed her hand against his chest, feeling his heart thudding rapidly, “No, this is perfect.”
Dick nodded, pulling his fiancée close to his chest and kissed her forehead.
“Come on, Major, kiss the girl properly!”
The pair turned to see a rather irritated Speirs being pulled back into his seat by an apologetic Lipton. Dick became acutely aware of the many eyes on them. ‘It’s now or never Dick,’ he told himself, leaning down slowly as his lips brushed against Y/n like he had so many times before, but this time it was different. This time it meant so much more. This time he wasn’t afraid.
Y/n beamed up at him. It was like everything was coming together for them. After everything they had been through they were finally getting their time to be happy.
The men of Easy Company crowded around them, cheering and laughing as their Major blushed even more furiously than before.
Lewis grinned from his spot on his chair, opening his hand to Harry who grumbled disgruntledly as he handed over the money he owed. It turned out that Lewis Nixon actually could give good advice on occasion.
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— masters of the air stills as black and white photographs.
i can fall asleep to heavy artillery and cries for a medic like it’s nothing 😴
― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous
come - adrianne lenker / Band of Brothers (2001) - Episode 6, 'Bastogne'
