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1waveshortofashipwreck · 6 months

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Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 7: The Boys Back Home

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's most valuable soldiers disappear?

Words: 2,135

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Author's note: Hey everyone! Apologies for the delay with the chapter lol 🫠 This chapter is the point of view of the men in Bastogne!! Also, because this is my fanfiction and I can do whatever I want, there will be some soldiers who somehow survived their demise in previous episodes (Miller? Dukeman? PERHAPS) Anywho, thank you as always for reading and be on the lookout for Chapter 8! 🥰

"Luz!" Carwood cried over the last shell to drop. He watched the radioman dive into the foxhole - George met the same fate as the nine others who dropped into that hole, none of them came out. Lipton was astonished. At most, a foxhole could fit three of the men comfortably, perhaps four if needed. But ten men in one? Lipton should have seen a dog pile of olive drab stretching above the opening. Instead, he saw an empty hole in the ground. The First Sergeant blinked and rubbed his eyes, making sure what he saw was indeed reality. The foxhole stayed empty when he opened his eyes.

Lipton sprinted from where he was taking cover, desperately searching for Lieutenant Dike. He knew that Dike was the least preferable choice, especially in a situation like this, but the officers Lipton would have preferred to ask for help had disappeared. After an agonizing search mission, Lipton finally found the Lieutenant - Dike was absentmindedly strolling along, looking at the trees around him with a glassy, thousand-yard stare. “Lieutenant Dike!” Lipton called out, scrambling over tree roots and broken branches. Dike snapped back to reality, his posture automatically improving when he saw First Sergeant Lipton.

“What is it, First Sergeant?” Dike asked, trying to be authoritative. The yawn that followed his words worked against him. Carwood began to speak, but his words were caught in his throat… how in the world was he going to tell the lieutenant what just happened?

“Sir… we um…” Lipton tried to force the words out of his mouth.

“Spit it out, First Sergeant Lipton!” Dike ordered, irritation evident in his voice. Lipton paused, taking a breath before responding to the officer.

“Sir… several men are gone…”

“First Sergeant, this is war, we're going to have casualties every day.”

“Not like that sir, I mean… they've disappeared…”

Dike stared blankly at the NCO, wondering if he heard him right.

“Where did they go, Carwood?” Hearing Dike use his first name gave Lipton a feeling he could only describe as ick, but nevertheless, he continued.

“Sir, I saw ten men go into a foxhole, but when I reached them, the foxhole was empty.”

“And you’re sure you went to the right foxhole?” Lipton had to pause and take a breath before answering.

“Yes, sir.” In a flurry of urgency that Lipton had never seen from Dike before, the lieutenant had rounded up Compton, Peacock, Shames, Foley, and Welsh, as well as radioed to Colonel Sink. Lipton hastily repeated his experience to the officers, who were just as hesitant to believe Lipton as Dike was.

“So they’re just… gone?” Harry asked, still skeptical.

“I wish I had more information for you sir, but all I saw was the men go into the foxhole and not come out,” Carwood replied, defeat evident in his voice.

“Shit…” Welsh muttered under his breath. The Irishman stared at the ground in front of him, wondering how he let two of his closest friends just disappear.

“So who all are we missing?” Buck interjected. He stood with his arms crossed, instinctively taking command of the conversation.

“Captains Winters and Nixon, Lieutenant Speirs, and then Roe, Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, Malarkey, and Randleman,” the NCO listed off the men he saw disappear, and prayed he would see again.

What Lipton did not see was Skip Muck quickly scrambling back to his foxhole. He had originally made his way to CP to ask Captain Winters a question, but when he overheard the discussion between Lipton and the officers, panic consumed the soldier’s thoughts. Muck all but fell into Penkala’s foxhole, unaware that he inadvertently elbowed his best friend in the face.

“HEY! What the fuck!?” Penkala yelped in surprise, his hands shooting to his cheek.

“Keep it down, Penk! I gotta tell you something,” Muck hushed the soldier, looking to make sure no one else was around. “I just heard Lipton telling Buck that we lost a bunch of men.”

“Like, to a sniper?”

“No, like they fucking disappeared.” Alex rolled his eyes, figuring Skip was just up to his usual mischief.

“Yeah, and I’m marrying Rita Hayworth.”

“Penk, I’m serious. Winters, Nixon, and a few others are gone and they have no fucking idea where they went.”

“Wait, what’d you say?” Muck and Penkala looked up to see that Shifty Powers had joined them in their foxhole. The rifleman looked at his two friends with shock and concern - how could the soldiers just disappear, especially vital officers like Winters and Nixon?

“He said we’re missing half the fucking company!” Penkala’s voice raised again, becoming more distressed by the minute.

“I said keep it down, you ass-hat!” Skip punctuated his interjection with a sharp whack to the back of Penkala’s head. “Look, we all know Dike isn’t gonna do shit. When Colonel Sink gets here, we need to back Lipton up and make sure Sink knows what’s happening.”

“I can go round up some of the other NCOs and tell them,” Shifty offered, gathering up his rifle to go find the rest of Easy Company’s leaders.

“Alright, we’ll come find you once Sink gets here,” Penkala replied before Shifty set off on his solo mission. Before long, the Virginian had gathered up Alley, Christianson, Grant, Martin, McClung, Perconte, Sisk, Talbert, Popeye, and Smokey Gordon. Of course, the trio of Hashey, Garcia, and Miller wanted to tag along as well - even if they did not have a leadership role, they wanted to help their company however they could.

“I really hope Bull’s okay…” Hashey muttered to no one in particular, crossing his arms to conserve the little warmth he had. “First he went missing in Holland, now we lose him in Bastogne…”

“Yeah, we need to keep a leash on him or something!” Miller snickered to his friends before Babe Heffron bumbled up to the group. The redhead resembled a baby horse learning to gallop as he jumped and weaved past tree roots and foxholes making his way to the group of soldiers.

“The fuck is this I hear about Gaurnere missing!?” Babe’s respirations were loud and labored as he attempted to catch his breath. Before anyone could respond, Lipton came across the group of soldiers all congregated near CP.

“Hey fellas, everyone doing all right?” Carwood asked nervously - he loved his men, but he knew they were up to no good if too many were in one place without a good reason.

“We heard about the men going missing,” Smokey replied, Mississippi accent thick in his words.

“We want to help, Lip, however we can,” Floyd Talbert added. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, Smokey glancing a look of concern at his best friend.

Lipton was about to express his gratitude to his company before Colonel Sink’s Jeep was seen pulling up beside the rest of the group. Lipton quickly went to grab the company’s officers as Sink nodded in thanks to his driver and stepped out of the car. With a loud, abrupt command to “Ten-Hut!” from Buck Compton, the gathered men snapped to attention and saluted the colonel, who offered a gentle salute in return.

“At ease men,” Sink instructed before turning to the officers, “I knew it was bad when I was getting a call from Dike.”

Lipton and Welsh needed to bite their cheeks to hide their amused smiles. “We’re not sure what to do, sir, or if anything can be done…” Buck replied to the colonel before taking a step back - the blonde gestured for Lipton to step up, an instruction to inform Sink of their predicament.

“Carwood, tell me exactly what you saw.” The rest of the gathered men leaned in as Sink spoke, anxious to understand what was happening.

“Ten men went into a foxhole while we were getting shelled, sir, but the foxhole was completely empty when I went to check on them afterward. There was absolutely no trace of anyone being in that foxhole, sir, and now we can’t find any of the men I saw go in.”

The older man nodded in understanding, silently processing Lipton’s words. “Who all went in?” The NCO repeated the names from earlier, ending with Captains Winters and Nixon. Sink simply looked down at the snow. “And you have no idea where the hell any of them went…”

“No sir,” Lipton replied quietly.

The colonel simply let out a sigh and shook his head, “I’m sorry boys, but since it was during a shelling and they were last seen going into a foxhole, the higher-ups probably aren’t going to authorize a search party,” he sent a determined look to the men, “I’m going to do everything I can to push the request through, but I better not hear of anyone taking matters into their own hands.” Before getting back into his Jeep, Sink turned to Lieutenant Dike, or rather, where Dike should have been. “And where the hell is Dike?”

“We don’t know, sir, we looked for him before you arrived but didn’t find him,” Welsh chimed in. Sink rubbed his forehead in irritation before turning to Buck and Welsh.

“All right, I’m making this an official order. Lieutenant Compton, if Dike isn’t to be found and a decision needs to be made, your company comes to you. Harry, you’re second in command. You kids do what you think is right. You’re good soldiers with smart heads on your shoulders.” Sink nodded to the officers and saluted the men before getting back in his Jeep and driving back to Regimental HQ - the poor man put his head in his hands, his most trusted officers were gone without a trace, and there was virtually nothing he could do to help them.

As if on cue, Dike returned to the company, “What are we all standing around for? We have a line to protect!” Dike crescendoed his voice to try and be more authoritative, but his efforts fell flat. Eyes rolled and voices groaned as the gathered men all dispersed and returned to their assigned duties - well, all except for Babe, Talbert, Smokey, McClung, Shifty, Alley, Grant, and Popeye. As everyone was trying to leave, Smokey grabbed the sleeve of whoever he could.

“Y’all, this isn’t right, we need to do something,” the machine gunner pleaded in a hushed tone.

“You heard Sink, though, there’s no way they’re gonna authorize a search party,” Moe replied, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Popeye took a beat before he chimed in, “...why do we need to wait for authorization?”

“Because only a general can authorize a search party,” Talbert answered the Virginian - while he did not agree with the policy at all, he knew that there was no getting around it.

“But didn’t Sink say that he left Buck and Welsh in charge if Dike isn’t around? They’re not the type to snitch,” Grant offered to the conversation, scrunching his shoulders up for warmth like a turtle retreating into its shell.

“Hell, they might be happy to help out,” Gordon affirmed the NCO. The men looked around at each other with uncertainty - what if Dike found out? Or Peacock? To be honest, it was probably worse for the latter officer to discover the plot. Thomas Peacock tries his best to be a good captain, but these efforts cause him to be rather heavy-handed with the rules. If Peacock were to hear of the plot to find the missing soldiers, he would surely either tell his superior officers or try to stop the soldiers himself.

“What if we get caught?” Shifty asked nervously - while he wanted to help his friends, the poor boy was nervous to hatch a plot like this.

“We can’t just do nothin’! We all know they’d do the same if it were any of us out there!” The man from Philly interjected, earning Babe a smack on the head from Grant.

“Where would we even start?” McClung asked the group.

“Well, best thing to do would be to investigate the foxhole and see if there are any clues,” everyone turned in shock to see Lipton returning to them. “I needed something from CP, and then I noticed all of you still over here, I figured you were up to no good,” the first sergeant said with a smile, earning him a loving slap on the back from Grant and Johnny Martin. The rest of the afternoon was about to be spent brainstorming, at least until one of the men needed to take their turn watching the line.

All of the men felt nervous, but especially Babe. Guarnere is his best friend, it would be one thing if Babe knew that he was wounded, even killed, but not knowing what happened to Bill was eating away at Babe worse than anything he had ever felt before.

~~~~~

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 (coming soon!)

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @easycompany123 , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @themysciraprincess , @xxluckystrike

Thank you so much as always for reading and stay tuned for Chapter 8! 😁

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malarkgirlypop · 1 year

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MEDIC! - 2nd Part (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

I have absolutely no patience... so here is the next part because I'm not a tease and I won't make you wait hehe. I have a lot more I might post everyday until I run out! Because like I said, no patience in my body! Also the main love is Malarkey but I have a problem and make everyone all love the OC. I'M SORRY I CAN'T NOT!! Warning is a slow burn I'm sorry I have ideas in my head and so things can't happen in the timeline without the ideas. I have to have everything ahhhhh. Anyway enjoy!

People step out of the way as the tall man pushes us through the crowd, we reach another soldier dressed in the same uniform.

“Captain Winters, Sir!” The man's low voice carries over the commotion of the crowd, Captain Winters who is talking to another soldier turns his attention towards us.

“Yes?” Winters replies.

“Sir, we have a field nurse who is here somehow by herself?” The man says from behind me. I watch Winters glance over to me then back to the man.

“Sergeant Randleman there are no field nurses here and there are none meant to arrive.” Winters appears just as confused as the man, who’s name apparently is Randleman, was when I spoke to him first. Winters steps closer to me. Reading my name badge that is pinned to my top.

“Emily Lane?” He looks at me for confirmation.

“Yes,” I pause looking up at Winters, “Sir?” I feel compelled to also call him Sir since everyone is saying it.

“How did you get here?” Winters asks. I let out a chuckle. I have been wondering the same thing. I sober myself when Winters gives me a confused look. I probably look crazy standing here laughing to myself. I go to open my mouth to say, oh I don’t know I was pulled through a portal of some sorts, but that coming out of my mouth in this situation might not be the best idea. My mind races. How the hell do I explain this? I open and close my mouth, Winters frowns at me squinting his eyes as if daring me to speak.

“I, uh…” I start to say. Think! Think of something to say, these men are looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Emily, how did you get to Holland?” Winters asks again, pushing me for an answer.

“HOLLAND?!” I blurt before my brain can catch up. The two men seem shocked by my outburst. I cover my mouth with my hand before anything else can come out of my mouth.

The two men share a look, I glance from one to the other. “Bull, why don’t you take Emily here to see Doc, she seems to be in shock.” Winters takes my shoulder turning me back to the care of Randleman aka Bull apparently.

I am once again being pushed through the crowd by Bull. People are still dancing and cheering, a man approaches with his eyes closed and lips puckered out steering straight for me, I flinch back, my arms coming up to deflect the incoming kiss, a nervous laugh bubbles from my lips. I look back at Bull trying to gauge if he just saw that as well. He leans close to me, “They’re celebrating.”

“I can see that.” I watch other soldiers move through the crowd; they are swarmed, being hugged and kissed as they walk.

“What are they celebrating?” I ask.

“The Germans have left, they are liberated.” he answers, still moving us through the crowd.

The Germans?

We stop at a commotion in the road, a woman next to us is grabbed by two men. They violently rip off her dress, I gasp moving forward to try and help her but Bull’s grip remains firm. I turn to face him showing my distress, “It’s not our business darlin’.”

I continue to watch, spotting other women stripped of their clothes and their hair has been cut. The woman that was next to me cries out as a man with scissors hacks her hair. A lady is dragged by us with a symbol painted on her forehead, I step back into Bull realising what that symbol is. My hands shake and my chest heaves, the world spins. A swash sticker is painted onto the foreheads of other ladies.

Where am I? What is going on?

“You alright there lil’ lady?” Bull notices my panic, holding me up as my legs almost give way.

“What is the date today Bull?” I pant, my eyes darting around. I’m wrong, this is a reenactment of some sorts. This isn’t happening.

“Well today is the 16th of September.” Bull replies looking confused, his cigar hanging from his teeth as he speaks. My breath leaves me in a short huff as the answer did not comfort me at all.

“The year, Bull?” I ask, my words holding an ounce of hope that was soon to be extinguished as he opened his mouth to speak once more.

“Why 1944, of course.” He says matter-of-factly, his eyebrows pulled down over his eyes even more, his expression mimicking a mix of confusion and concern as he looks at my face, trying to gauge my thoughts.

“1944?” I choke out. NO NO NO NO. I try to catch my breath, steady my heart rate but it’s no use. Black dots dance around my vision. Panic rises in my chest, my stomach twists. I spin around looking for the portal I came from. Where was it?

“Emily take a breath.” Bull’s muffled voice says in my ear. I shake my head pushing away from him. I stagger backwards hitting people as I go. Bull follows closely, holding out his hands to catch me. This has to be some sick dream? That's right, this is a dream! I raise my hand striking it to my cheek, it stings but I am still here. Bull looks at me shocked by my actions, I raise my hand again readying myself for another blow, harder this time. My hand is caught mid-air, my other hand also captured by a very concerned Bull.

“Bull,” I say very seriously, “I need you to hit me.”

“Hit you?” Bull questions. “I’m not going to hit you darlin’.” He keeps my hands in his, I’m sure he’s worried what I will do next if I have free reign of my hands again.

“Bull, Emily.” Winters appears next to Bull, he glances at the position that Bull and I are in. “As you were.” He says bewildered, moving forward with the rest of the soldiers. Bull pulls me towards him, tucking me under his arm and following Winters through the crowd. I don’t struggle, I march forward like a zombie, my brain has officially shut off leaving me detached from reality. In my mind I am back in my apartment, making dinner and then sitting down to watch a show then crawling into bed to get up and do the same thing the next day.

After some walking we leave the crowd behind moving away from the town, Bull continues to follow the rest of the soldiers still having me tucked under his arm like an injured bird. I don’t talk, I listen as the soldiers banter, most of what they say makes no sense to me. Dusk falls quickly, the group makes camp on the side of the road we have been walking for the day. I get given food and water, I slowly sip my water but I give my food to Bull, my stomach is still twisted in knots. I know none of it will stay down. Bull asks if I am sure to which I nod, he takes the food from me and quickly eats. None of the other soldiers seem to pay much attention to me, I guess since I have been so quiet and mostly hidden behind Bull for most of the day they didn’t see me. My white uniform top is now dirty and sweaty, my feet hurt from the constant walking. I'm sure I have blisters on the backs of my heels. A hand taps my shoulder, I jump swinging around to see Winters standing over me. “Emily, I need you to come with me. You too Bull.” Bull stands quickly following orders, I stand slowly and trail behind the two. We make our way through the makeshift camp, only one tent is pitched, the rest of the men are sprawled out on the grass under the stars, quietly chatting to each other. We make our way to the tent, Bull and Winters disappear inside. A thought crosses my mind, run, while no one is looking, run back to the town, find the portal and forget what you saw. I freeze glancing around the dark land that seems to sprawl for miles. No, something in my gut tells me I need to stay with these men, if I run I could find much worse. I shuffle my feet following the men into the tent. As I enter Bull and Winters sit at a table that has a map pinned to it.

“Emily, we radioed command and there is no record of a field nurse by your name.” Winters looks up at me, I still stand wringing my hands in front of me. I wrack my brain for an explanation.

“I’m independent, Sir.” I state.

“Independent?” Winters hums. “And how did you get to Holland?”

“I was signing up to be a field nurse in England, when I heard whispers of Paratroopers making their next jump into Holland. I also heard they had only a few medics, so I figured I would meet you in Holland and join you and your men, Sir.” I lie through my teeth. I keep my stare steady, and my body language relaxed to make my lies more believable.

“Why were you so frantic in the town then?” Winters asks.

“I got turned around in the crowd, Sir. I was worried I had missed my opportunity to join you. I was trying to tell Sergeant Randleman but I seemed to have confused him.” I glance at Bull, he watches me closely.

“Why did you ask for the date? Specifically the year?” Winters continues with his interrogation.

“Well I was tired from all my travels, I had fallen asleep at the place I was staying, when I awoke I was unsure of how much time had passed, since I didn’t want to miss your arrival. I felt like I had slept for years.” I internally cringe at how easily the lies roll off my tongue but I need to ensure I stay with this group.

Winters pauses thinking about my explanation. He looks towards Bull as if trying to read his mind, they share a glance as I watch them. I catch my bottom lip between my teeth chewing on it nervously.

“Well Emily we do need more medics. Have you been trained?” Winters turns back to me raising his eyebrows as he speaks.

“Yes, well no technically. I am in my last semester of training, I only have a couple of months left.” I say.

Winters brows draw together. “I guess that’s good enough, we are desperate.” he sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“But you haven’t been trained in combat?” He continues.

“No, Sir. I am medically trained but have not been on the frontline. I understand not all medics carry a firearm, and are just there to help the wounded.” I answer.

“That’s correct. Well I cannot prepare you for what you are going to see on the frontline, and you understand Emily that you could also die on the front. There is no guarantee for your survival.” His strong stare pins me to the ground, I gulp. I have seen war movies, most of which I had to watch through my hands. I hated seeing the men being blown to pieces and shot down.

But this wasn’t a movie. I couldn’t watch through my hands, I was here on the front fighting against the Nazis. The thought hadn’t sunk in. How much danger my life was currently in, like Winters said there is no guarantee for my life. But what is my life? Is this it? Stuck here in 1944? Or when the war is over, if I make it through, do I find another portal? Is there another portal? It’s strange to think how quickly it all got turned upside down, this isn’t a dream, I’m stuck in a time where I do not belong.

I pull myself from my spiralling mind. “I understand Sir.” I say firmly, holding my ground, making my words as believable as I can.

Winters stands a small smile spread across his face, he reaches his hand out to me, “Welcome to Easy Company Emily Lane.” I take his hand gripping firmly with a single shake he releases me.

“Bull, get Miss Lane here some proper attire and supplies.” Winters turns to look at Bull who is already nodding and making his way out of the tent. I follow Bull as he holds the tent flap up for me to walk under. I follow him from behind, having to take double steps for his every one, he grabs things from piles, rummaging through bags, he turns holding up a shirt measuring it to my body.

“Seems you’ll fit the small.” He says, a new cigar is hanging from his teeth. I follow him as he grabs things and passes them back to me, by the time we are done I can hardly see where I am going. “Oof” I grunt walking into something hard.

“Hey, watch it tiny.” A man says in a thick philly accent.

“Oh I’m sorry.” I say peeking out from behind the mountain of gear in my arms.

“Aye, who are you?” he squints trying to get a better look at me in the dark.

The group of men that stand around with him also pique interest, five pairs of eyes land on me.

“Are you lost?” The man I bumped into speaks again.

“No, not lost.” I say, staring back at him.

“She’s our new medic.” Bull speaks from behind me. “Are these boys hassling you Lane?” He leans forward but says it loud enough for the group to hear.

I look over my shoulder at him and smile. “No, they aren’t giving me any trouble, but I think I could take them if I wanted.” Bull lets out a laugh, patting me on my back.

“You’re going to be trouble Lane, I can already tell.” He chuckles. “How about I introduce you to these men before you try and fight them all?” I smile up at him.

“This right here is Bill Guarnere,” he points to the man I walked into. “And that is John Martin, but everyone calls him Johnny.” Martin raises his hand giving a small wave, I smile back politely. “And that there is Joseph Liebgott, George Luz, Webster and Donald Malarkey.” Small hello’s and hi are said as they are introduced. They all look basically the same in the dark in the same uniforms, and I have no hope I am going to remember anyone's names.

“Hi I’m Emily Lane, but everyone calls me Emmy.” I say semi waving my hand from under the pile of clothes I am holding.

“Emmy, what on earth are you doing here?” the man who I believe to be George Luz says smiling.

“Well I heard you needed medics so, here I am.” I let out an awkward laugh. “I better go get changed, but I guess I will see you around?” I cringe, when was it hard to talk to a group of men?

Luz chuckles, “I’m sure we will Emmy.” a cheeky grin forms on his face. I don’t know what that smile means but I move quickly to find somewhere to get changed. I feel the men watch me as I go, I hear them fall back into conversation once I am out of view.

I turn around looking for a place to change, in front of me a field spans out with trees in the distance, behind me the men have made camp and are lying in the grass, huddling around in groups talking. I turn in a circle, trying to find the best spot. There are trucks parked on the grass but men sit in them as well.

“Emily.” Someone calls from behind me, I whip around to see a tall man standing in the shadows, I glance down at his arm a white band on his sleeve shows the red cross, the sign for medic.

“You must be Doc?” I say moving closer to him.

“I am indeed, I have your medic pack here. Bull told me to give it to you.” He hands over the army green bag with the red cross mark on the front. I take it trying not to drop the clothes I am holding.

“Thank you, Doc.” I say.

“Call me Gene.” I nod at his response, “Do you know what is in this bag?” he asks.

“I think so? A powder that stops infections, gauze, scissors, Tourniquet, medical tags, safety pins, tweezers?” I say off the top of my head, I actually have no idea what could be used in the 40's. I am so used to modern medicine, they would have no gloves, no alcohol swabs to disinfect gear.

“That’s about right, but I will let you have a look through by yourself if you have any questions come ask me.” he says turning to leave.

“Ok, thank you Doc. Sorry Gene.” I say loudly as he walks away.

“Miss Lane.” I hear from the other side, OMG now what. I turn to see Winters poking his head from the tent. I straighten, this man seems to be in charge here. I can't piss him off.

“Yes, Sir.” I make my way over to the tent.

“Emily, are you wanting to change?” he motions his head to the armful of clothing I am carrying.

“Yes please Sir, I couldn’t find anywhere private.” I shuffle forward and into the tent. Winters steps out, closing the flap behind him. I move quickly putting the clothes down on the table, I start by taking off my shoes and socks. Then shimmy my pants down, kicking them to the side. I empty the pocket of my uniform top, my hand grips something cold. I pull it out to inspect it. My mouth drops. No goddamn way! I clutch my phone in my hand, letting out a strangled gasp.

“Everything ok Emily?” Winters asks from outside the tent. Oh fuck! I thought he left, he’s probably making sure that no one comes in while I change.

I clear my throat, “fine.” my voice cracks, “I’m fine.” I say in a clearer voice. OMG, OMG, OMG I mouth. How the hell did I not lose this. I tap the screen and almost shriek, it lights up. The time and date have not changed from when I was back in my own time. I open the screen, no bars. Well I would be more surprised if I did get reception. 87% battery, I need to keep this on me, I mean if I go back to my own time I don’t want to have to buy another phone. I power down my phone and place it on the table. I search through my pockets, pairs of medical gloves, I place them down next to the phone. I pull more from my pockets: pens, pencil, a mask, hand sanitiser, omg I could kiss myself for always having the most full pockets. The last thing I pull out is a small black case, I open my earphones to find them sitting in their charging ports, the green light flashes. God I am good, they’re fully charged. But unfortunately I am unsure how long they will last as I can’t power them down like my phone. I place them down on the table as well. I take my name badge and pin on watch off my top as well.

I quickly get changed into the uniform given to me, leaving on my bra and underwear I slip into the pants doing the belt on the tightest loop so they don’t fall down and a white cotton t-shirt, I pull on my black thick socks and combat boots. The boots are a bit big but if I wear a couple pairs of socks they should be fine. I button up the long sleeve shirt, pulling on my jacket. I tuck the helmet under my arm and the medic kit is slung across my body. I gather the items from my pockets and slip them into my kit for safe keeping.

“Almost done in there?” Winters asks from outside.

“Yes Sir.” I reply, the tent flap opens as he walks back in. Winters scans me from head to toe, a small smirk forms on his lips.

“You forgot one thing.” Winters reaches into his pocket pulling out the red cross band. He gestures for my arm. I reach out my right arm, he steps forward and slides the band up, I look down at him watching him intently. Winters eyes meet mine, I look away quickly embarrassed I was caught staring. Winters laughs softly pulling safety pins from his pocket pinning the band to my sleeve, as he pins the last one I gasp. He looks up worried, scanning my face, “Got you.” I smile, his face cracks into a smile. “Indeed you did.”

He finishes pinning the band taking a step back to admire his work, I feel my face flush shy from being scrutinised by him.

“Well now you look the part.” He steps forward again, taking my helmet from under my arm. He gently places it on my head. “You always wear this, you got it?” I nod the helmet falling in front of my eyes from the movement. He chuckles, pushing it back up.

“Well I think you should show me how good your skills are.” Winters crosses his arms in front of him.

“My skills?” I am confused.

“I have a wound on my left leg, ricochet bullet. Gene was going to come dress it but you’re here now.” He sits as he talks, pulling up his pant leg for me to see the wound. I kneel down in front of him to better look at the wound, the lighting in the tent is poor but it will have to do. I pull gear from my medic bag, gauze and a fresh bandage. I pull down his sock to see the affected area better. The bandage on his leg is dirty, blood has seeped through the previous dressing. I look up at him as he watches me.

“You should be keeping off this, no?” I ask, wondering what the other medic had told him.

“I mean I can’t really, these men rely on me.” he sighs, he looks tired. I cannot imagine what this man has seen, his face looks young but his eyes hold scarring memories that he will never be able to unsee.

I remove the bandage on his leg, the wound appears small, and the wound bed appears to be granulating and no slough seems to be present. There appears to be no sign of infection, I press the back of my hand over the area to feel if it is hot to the touch, which it isn’t. There is no sign of erythema around it and the edges are actively healing; they pucker up due to the trauma of the ricocheted bullet entering the skin.

I feel Winters’ eyes on me as I assess the injury. “Do you have water?” I ask looking around.

Winters pulls a canteen from his belt, handing it to me. I tip the water from the canteen onto a couple of pieces of gauze. Then pouring the water onto the open wound, “ah.” Winters gasps flinching.

“Sorry.” I say continuing with my task, I clean the injury itself and around it, to help stop bacteria from entering the wound. I pat the skin dry, I apply the new clean dressing tying it around his leg to secure it. I sit back on my haunches looking up at Winters, he smiles seemingly impressed with my work.

“So what’s the verdict nurse?” he tilts his head as he asks the question.

“No sign of infection, which is good. Should be healed soon. It would heal faster if you didn’t walk on it so often but I can compromise with you on that. How about when you have time, you elevate your legs, to help reduce the swelling.” I say gathering my supplies and tighten the lid back onto the canteen before handing it back to him.

“Well I guess I can do that for you.” he says, taking the canteen from my hands. I stand making my way to the exit.

“Goodnight Captain Winters.” I say.

“Dick.” he replies.

“Where?” I exclaim.

The man looks confused, I stare at him eyes wide. My hand lifts to point at him.

“Yo..” I mumble.

“Me.” He says pointing at himself.

My eyes are big as saucers at this point, what is this man asking me?

“Right now?” I ramble.

“What?” his face scrunches in confusion. I mean he’s cute, but like I just met him. I reach my hands up to my top button undoing one.

“I mean I guess.” I say slowly unbuttoning my top, unsure if this is the request he just made.

“Emily what are you doing?” He seems genuinely concerned.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” I stop unbuttoning, I think I have read this situation very wrong.

“My name is Dick, Richard Winters.” He states.

My mouth falls open and my cheeks become hot, I’m sure my whole face has turned the darkest shade of red.

“Dick short for Richard.” I gape, the cogs in my brain finally turning.

“Your name is Dick.” I half shout, covering my mouth. I hastily do up my buttons. I am so dumb what is wrong with me, I could hit myself.

“Well… ah… goodnight Dick” I mumble hurrying out the tent. The cool breeze brings relief to my hot face, I fan myself trying to catch my breath. I need to find somewhere to sleep or hide, I need the ground to swallow me whole, that's what I need.

I rush back to the group of men most of which are sleeping, I see Bull’s larger figure sitting quietly talking to others. I make my way to him, carefully stepping over the men sprawled on the floor. I sit next to Bull. He appears to be my comfort, not that I know him well but from the interactions I have had with him he seems to be a kind person. He smiles down at me when I seat myself next to him.

“Saw you in Winters’ tent, everything ok?” he asks, leaning closer for me to hear him.

“Yeah, yup, oh yeah, fine I’m fine, so good, grand even, yup everything is a-ok” I ramble quickly looking back at the tent I just ran from, cringing at how the interaction ended. I wanted to curl up and die.

“Ahh, are you ok?” Bull frowns in confusion, tilting his head to get a better look at my face that I ducked down out of view.

“Yes, yup.” I reply, popping the p at the end of my sentence.

“Alright, get some rest.” Bull says, lending me the blanket from his legs, I slip under it next to him relishing his heat. Exhaustion pulls at my eyes, even on the cold hard ground my body yearns to rest. Bull moves next to me coming closer so our bodies are almost pressed together, I rest my head on my medic bag, as the world around me fades.

-------------------------------------

Chapter 3

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mccall-muffin · 2 years

Text

Account for allrounder fandoms @its-all-or-nothing94

Joe Liebgott Love vs. Hate - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 , Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23 , Part 24 (Ongoing) Better late than never - Part 1, Part 2 (Completed) Will you? (Secret Santa gift)

Don Malarkey The other Side (OneShot) Blind (OneShot)

Dick Winters I can't come to the pacific with you (OneShot)

Ron Speirs You are loved (OneShot) Panic (OneShot) Hard desicions (One Shot)

Babe Heffron Little Kitty - Part 1, Part 2, Christmas Special (Completed)

Carwood Lipton What lasts long finally becomes good (OneShot, Request) The things you don't know - Prologue, Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 (Ongoing)

Joe Toye The price I pay (OneShot, Request)

Eugene Roe You oughta know (OneShot, Request)

John "Bucky" Egan The Lady and the Major - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (Complete)

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trashbag-baby666 · 10 months

Text

Guys I have covid so hit me with more request prompts from this list!! Ive got a few boring days ahead of me!!!

Taking requests for:

Band of Brothers:

Joe Liebgott

Webgott

Luztoye

Baberoe

Winnix

Speirton

The Hunger Games:

Finnick Odair

Top Gun: Maverick:

Rooster Bradshaw

Hangman Seresin

OC’s:

Daisybilly

Baberoe/Graham

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marycorleone · 1 year

Text

The Girl Paratrooper - Joe Liebgott X F!OC

Prompt: Mary and Lieb met while training at Camp Toccoa. Both were paratroopers of Easy Company. But the rules were clear: Dating or romantic involvement was prohibited. This made Lieb and Mary date in secret, 'til the girl found out that he had cheated on her.

After breaking up with Joe, Mary grows closer to Bill Guarnere, and what was meant to be just a friendship becomes a marriage. But Bill and Mary don't love each other, and Liebgott is sorry. What will happen?

Warning ⚠️: the character 'Leigh Spencer' was created by @msmercury84 . I asked for use the character in my fic and she allowed. Thanks, Leigh! ❤️

Chapter One

Mary was walking along the road and doing her patrol, when Joe Liebgott showed up. The girl smiled from her boy, who came to her and kissed her.

'Stop, Lieb! Winters can see us!'

'Winters know all about us. Everyone else know all about of us. We just haven't assumed our relationship yet cause of the formalities of the war, but as soon as this is all over, I'm going to hug and kiss you without major problems.'

Joe hugged Mary, lifting her off the ground. 'And I love you so much and I want to marry you, Mary Corleone. You know that. Don't you?'

'Oh!' She screamed in fright, kicking her feet in the air. 'Joseph D. Liebgott, put me down now!'

'Don't scream! It will draw everyone's attention here!' He warned with a smile. Then Joe announced that he had an appointment and took his leave, leavin' Mary to complete her patrol.

A few hours later, when already was the morning, Mary was sleeping when she heard Pat Christenson's voice. He arrived fumbling, knocking a coffee pot off the table, startling Bull, Guarnere and Babe, who were sitting in the room next to where Mary was sleeping.

'What happened, Pat? It looks like you saw a ghost!'

'It's Liebgott!' Christenson was scared and stuttering.

Mary jumped on the bed, but didn't make a sound. She wanted to hear when Pat was going to say. In the next room, Bill asked.

'Let's go, Pat! What happened with Liebgott?'

'A girl. He was in his dormitory with a girl!'

Everyone was silent and after a few seconds, Bull affirmed.

'Mary is sleeping in the next room. She just got back from patrol. Liebgott is a piece of shit.

'I went in there to get an outfit I had forgotten, and when I got there, I saw the naked girl on top of him. He would spank her ass and say he never had such a nice girl in his life.'

'Damn! Mary will be devastated!' Bill cursed and rubbed his face.

'Shall we tell her?' Babe finally spoke.

'No. We shouldn't.' Bull asked.

Guarno was about to say what she needed to know when Mary appeared in the doorway.

'I heard everything I had to hear. It's unfortunate that you wanted Lieb to keep fooling me, Bull. You shouldn't have even thought about it. It was your duty, my friends, to tell me. Liebgott asked me to marry him, and you know it. I was going to let that son of a bitch put a ring on my finger, and you were wondering if you were going to let him keep fooling me!'

'Mary, I...'

'All right, Pat. I already heard what I needed. Where are they?'

'In Lieb's dormitory. Mary, wait! If you make a scene, you can be expelled from the paratroopers. The rules are clear: Dating is prohibited!' Babe tried to stop his friend, but she just walked away.

'Can't we date? But is okay fuck local girls? I'm tired of hanging my head. I've been doing this since Toccoa.'

Furious, Mary went towards where her fiancé was. They boys wanted to go after her, but Bill told the to wait there, and that only he would go. And so, Wild Bill followed Mary.

Next chapter coming soon. And currahee!

#band of brothers #joe liebgott #hbo war #f!oc #joe liebgott x reader #leigh spencer #fiancé #toccoa #wild bill guarnere #bill guarnere #bull randleman #babe heffron #pat christenson

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softguarnere · 1 year

Text

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 24: Good Ol' Bill

Summary: “Hey.” Bill grabs her arm. He gives her a sage nod. “We’re gonna be okay, kid.” A/N: Behold - some of the first bits of this fic that I ever wrote! These scenes and interactions have been living rent free in my brain for almost a year now, so I hope that you enjoy them Warnings: blood, death, grief, injury, language, war Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @lady-cheeky @latibvles @ithinkabouttzu @lieutenant-speirs @mrs-murder-daddy @hxad-ovxr-hxart

Belgium, 1945

It’s the strangest interaction that Zenie has ever had with another person, to say the least.

When Zenie had wandered far off into the trees by herself, it was because she knew better than to take her chances using the same latrine as everyone else during the day. She didn’t expect anyone else to be this far out. Let alone him.

“What are you doing out here, trooper?”

The merry sounding voice is incongruous with the barren snow and scarred earth that it echoes through. Zenie jumps. After drawing a deep breath to slow her thudding heart, she turns to face him.

Lieutenant Dike’s expression is open and expectant. He’s never spoken directly to her before. She’s never been this close to him. There’s a chance that no one has. Most of what she knows about Dike and his mannerisms comes from watching Luz do impressions of him. With Winters she had intentionally kept her distance to avoid being found out. With Dike she doesn’t have to try because he’s never around. But is this really where he comes? To the middle of the woods – the middle of nowhere?

“Trying to use the bathroom, sir.” At least she’s being honest.

Dike nods. He stands, staring, both at her and without seeing her all at once.

After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Zenie clears her throat. “Is that a problem, sir?”

“Hm? Oh, probably not. Good, secluded place for it, I suppose.” He steps past her, not even bothering to look back at her as he calls, “Well, good day, Private.” Then he disappears into the trees.

Zenie stands still, watching his retreating frame until he’s out of sight. She turns the interaction over and over in her mind as she makes her way back to the rest of Easy Company.

“Jesus Christ,” Bill spits when she tells her friends about the interaction. “They’ve really put a maniac in charge of the company, haven’t they?”

George laughs. “Good, secluded place for it, I suppose,” he mimics perfectly in Dike’s voice. He shakes his head. “This guy is going to get us killed.”

“They oughtta put someone else in charge,” Bill says. “Like Compton. He’d do good.”

“Yeah, but with our luck, they’d probably pick Peacock instead.”

“Or Shames,” Zenie adds, thinking back to all of Shifty’s complaints about the other lieutenant.

“Either way,” George says with a shrug. “At least they would be here.” He laughs. “Just wandered off into the trees, huh? Like something out of a campfire story.”

“Telling campfire stories, are we?” Lipton’s cheerful voice announces his presence as he steps up to their little group. They all share a knowing glance – here’s a man who could lead Easy Company. Lipton smiles at them, his voice simultaneously playful and chastising when he asks, “Which one is it? The one where a bunch of paratroopers all get blown to bits standing around in the middle of the woods when they should be in their foxholes?”

They can’t really argue with that. But now might be the time to voice their concerns; for the hundredth time – but maybe this will be the time that does some good.

“Actually, Sir,” Babe pipes up. “We were talking about Lieutenant Dike.”

Lipton frowns. “Ah.”

“Tommy here had a . . . weird interaction with him earlier.”

“Weird how?”

“He found me out looking for the latrine,” Zenie explains. “And then he just wandered off into the woods. He disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Lipton raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, Sir. Never saw where he went. Haven’t seen him since.”

Lipton allows himself a harsh sigh through his nose. He must be – has to be – just as frustrated as they are, if not more so. Whatever he feels, he does a good job at hiding it.

“Well,” Lipton says finally. “There’s not much that we can do about Dike. Just try to keep yourselves warm and keep from getting hit by German artillery.” In other words: get back into your foxholes.

They all nod. “Yes, Sir.”

“Driver?”

“Yes?” Zenie asks.

Lipton points to Zenie’s hands. “Driver, where are your gloves?”

Zenie crosses her arms, tucking her cold hands into her armpits. She had been sharing a foxhole with Joe on New Year’s Eve when the Germans had decided to send them a little present to ring in the New Year. He took shrapnel to his arm and got sent to the aid station. Meanwhile, Zenie’s gloves had gotten blown to bits during the shelling after she foolishly took them off and laid them out in an attempt to dry them. Trench knives, it turns out, are not the best tool to use when attempting to make holes in socks that you hope to turn into gloves. Good thing she doesn’t need the extra pair from the “feet, hands, neck, balls” rhyme that Muck loves to remind them off. The fabric no longer looks quite like either socks or gloves, but at least she has something on her hands. First Toye’s boots, then Zenie got hit in the arm, then Toye took shrapnel to the same place, and she lost her gloves. The two of them are bound to lose something during a shelling.

“They uh – they got blown to bits a few days ago.”

“Huh.”

“But I’ll be fine,” she assures him.

They say their goodbyes as Lipton leaves them. In a stellar imitation of Dike’s voice, George smirks at them and offers, “Good day, Private.”

His Dike impression is coming a long way, with all the opportunities for making fun of him that the lieutenant unwittingly provides them with. Even Joe, when he makes his glorious return from the aid station later that day, chuckles when Luz recounts Zenie’s story just for him.

“That’s pretty good, Luz,” Joe admits as he gives the radioman a friendly slap on the arm.

Luz shrugs. “Eh, it’s okay. Needs some work, but it’s coming along.”

“Is it true?” Popeye asks when Easy Company returns to their position near Foy that afternoon. The Virginian’s eyes are wide as he looks at Zenie expectantly. “About Dike? Did he really just walk off into the woods?”

“How’d you hear about that?”

“Everyone’s heard about it.” Shifty nods towards Luz, several feet in front of them as they walk. “Don’t think there’s anyone that he hasn’t previewed his impression for.”

“Except for Dike, I hope,” Zenie says. Although if it really came down to it, Luz probably would do an impression of Dike to the lieutenant’s face. Dike would probably misunderstand the joke and take it as some kind of flattery, accidentally giving Luz all the more to work with. The idea makes her giggle, and beside her, Shifty and Popeye also laugh.

It’s good to be back with them. She can only hope that they don’t get sent to the Out Post this time. After every round of German artillery fire she had had to wonder where they were, if they were okay. Now if she can just keep them near her and the rest of Second Platoon –

“Hello, boys!” Bill chirps as he hops into a foxhole between Zenie and Shifty. He slings an arm over each of their shoulders, beaming at them.

“Hey, Bill. You sharin’ a foxhole with us?” Shifty’s question is polite enough, but he still glances around the other sergeant at Zenie, brows slightly furrowed.

Bill shrugs. “Well, everyone else has been findin’ shit in their foxholes, and this one looks clean enough.” He sits down. After exchanging a glance, Zenie and Shifty slowly take a seat on either side of him.

This isn’t the first time that this has happened, now that she really thinks about it. Ever since Shifty got to come back from the OP, Bill has managed to show up in whatever foxhole the two of them have been sharing. And, just like now, he’s had no problem making himself comfortable sitting right between them.

Shifty must be realizing the same thing. He gives Zenie a knowing look, but he bites his bottom lip and says nothing.

“Bill, what’s really going on?” Zenie asks.

The Philadelphian gives her an incredulous look. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to sit with my friends?” A hint of a smile pulls at his lips as he leans in and lowers his voice. “Or to keep an eye on them?” He puts his arms out again and pats them both on the shoulder. “That’s right; no hanky-panky on Ol’ Guarno’s watch!”

“There hasn’t been any –“ Shifty clears his throat. “– uh, hanky-panky.”

“Really? Not even in, I dunno, Paris?” Heat rushes to Zenie’s face at the same moment that Shifty’s eyes go wide.

“How did you - ?”

“Nothing gets past me, kid.” Bill winks. “Word along the rumor mill is that you finally lost your virginity, supposedly on that pass to Paris. After I learned your secret, well, it didn’t exactly take a genius to piece it together.”

Babe. It had to be Babe! He was the one she told about losing her virginity. Of course he told Bill! They might be her friends, but the last thing she needed was for them to know details of her sex-life. She buries her face in her hands to hide whatever face she might be making.

“Hey, it’s all right.” Bill pats her on the back again, and when she looks up, he’s smiling, though Shifty’s cheeks are still a little pink. “Just watchin’ out for you, la mia sorellina.” My little sister. Zenie doesn’t have time to fully process his words before her friend turns to Shifty. “Just don’t go hurting her, okay?”

“I would never,” Shifty says.

Bill smiles. “I know.” He claps his hands and stands. “Well, now that that’s taken care of, I guess I better go find a foxhole.”

Neither of them speaks after he leaves. Zenie squeezes her eyes shut, like if she’s very still, the embarrassment will wash away and Shifty will forget about the interaction.

There’s a laugh, bright and crisp – from Shifty. He’s still chuckling when Zenie opens her eyes. The sniper shakes his head. “Good old Bill.”

“I’m sorry,” Zenie says automatically. Her face is still warm.

“Don’t be,” Shifty replies, voice still bright. “You’re our girl. He’s just watchin’ out for you.”

Il mio fratellino, Bill had once called her. Now he’s corrected it to la mia sorellina. He’s always been watching out for her, since way back in Toccoa. Even when she had been ready to fight him on her first day there. That’s what it feels like, then, for someone to always have your back. It’s not bad.

Somewhere nearby, a shell explodes. Screams of “Incoming!” follow it as the earth begins to shake. Zenie hunkers down, getting as low in the foxhole as she can, Shifty tucking in beside her.

Now she understands why their old position looked so different when they returned. The snow that blankets the ground is dirty, all churned up and mixed with soil. This is no peaceful woodland scene from a winter postcard. No, between the trees that have been broken down to nubs, the excrement that waits at the bottom of several foxholes, and the piercing explosions that shatter the air and shake the earth, this is the furthest thing from peaceful.

It ends suddenly. Zenie sits up and looks around, rifle at the ready. Her eyes dart in every direction. Behind her, Shifty takes the same position, watching the opposite direction. He’ll be able to see any approaching Germans from a mile away. Zenie has no doubt about that. After all, this is the same man who, just days before, realized that the Germans had disguised a tank as a tree.

“Anything?”

“No. No – “ Shifty stops short. Somewhere out there, a voice is carried through the forest. It sounds hazy. The echo distorts is, making it hard to pinpoint its location.

“Who is – “

“Stay in your foxholes!” Sergeant Lipton yells as he runs by. He stops a few feet away from them and looks down into a different foxhole. “Are you good, Popeye?”

“I’m one hundred percent ready to kill Germans, Lip!” Their friend chirps. As Lipton passes, he catches sight of Shifty and Zenie, offers them a big smile and a thumbs up, which Shifty returns.

Shifty relaxes a little. “That can’t be the end.”

“You think they’re trying to zero us in?”

“Hmm.” A crease appears between Shifty’s eyebrows. “They – “

Ka-BOOM!

So close to the line, maybe the Germans can hear them. Maybe they took their speculations as suggestion and started the next round of artillery fire.

Once again, Zenie slides down into her foxhole and braces herself. Trees crackle overhead as they burst into pieces, raining down all around them and impaling themselves into the frozen earth. No wonder so many of them have been hit by shrapnel. Zenie unconsciously reaches for the place on her own arm where she got peppered with it. Lucky, indeed.

“M-MEDIC!” A deep voice thunders out.

Snow crunches as Eugene goes racing by. He doesn’t stop to answer when a few men call out, “Who got hit?” Duty calls, and Eugene always answers.

From somewhere nearby, an all too familiar voice screams for help. His South Philly twang is strong, even with his raised voice. “Is anyone there?!”

Babe! Zenie leaps from the foxhole. Shifty reaches for her, but she’s already gone.

An entire tree was felled during the bombardment, collapsing right on top of Babe’s foxhole. Through the branches, everyone who crowds around can only just see the top of his helmet, can make out the shape of a hand reaching up for them.

Babe sounds . . . desperate, almost, as he urges them to get him out. It’s not a tone that Zenie has ever heard from him before. Like his sadness after Julian’s death, it feels unnatural on someone so happy-go-lucky.

Breathless, Babe manages a laugh and a smile when they manage to pull the tree away. “Think I went overboard on the cover for my foxhole?” He jokes.

Zenie manages to laugh it off, too, as do most of the others who arrived in time to help him. Except for the one person who’s known for laughing, that is.

From the corner of her eye, Zenie catches a flash of Luz racing by. He doesn’t stop at the sound of their chuckles, doesn’t even look at them. Focused, he hurries back to his foxhole.

There’s some commotion from the direction that he came from. With Babe uninjured and accounted for, Zenie steps away from the group and follows the direction that Luz just left.

A metallic scent stains the air, mingling with the scent of burned trees and charred earth. Freshly snapped trees litter the ground. And the ground around the shattered pieces is that peculiar mixture of snow and dirt that has become such a familiar sight in their month watching the line. This snow, though, has an extra quality to it – blood. Zenie doesn’t have time to wonder where it all came from, because at that moment, she spots a leg lying a few feet away from two figures sitting amongst the destruction.

Joe is in the center of it all, Eugene kneeling in front of him, trying to stop the blood that’s flowing freely from the place where his leg has been blown off. A few feet away from him, a trail of blood leads to another man who’s sitting propped against a tree, gritting his teeth and staring at his outstretched, mangled leg.

Zenie freezes.

From where he sits in front of the tree, Bill looks up at her. When their eyes meet, he holds her gaze, steady as ever.

“Hey, Tommy Boy,” Bill calls to her. “Be a pal and light me a smoke, would ya?”

Somehow, she finds herself on her knees beside her friend. She can’t feel her hands. They won’t stop shaking as she fumbles for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket. Bill doesn’t complain, though, about how long it takes her to remove one from the pack, to finally light it and place it between his lips.

“Thank you,” he manages around the cigarette.

She might reply. If she does, she can’t hear her own words over the pounding of her heart. Her spine turns into a tube of ice water, making her shiver as she watches her friends. This can’t be real. Out of everyone, Bill and Toye can’t be the ones going home.

“Bill, you’re goin’ first,” Eugene calls.

Bill nods, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Whatever you say, Doc.”

The next thing that she knows, some of the men are loading Bill onto a stretcher. He yells out in pain when they move him, cursing as they touch his injured leg. The cigarette in his hands falls to the ground, extinguishing itself on the snow. Numbly, Zenie stamps it out.

“Hey.” Bill grabs her arm. He gives her a sage nod. “We’re gonna be okay, kid.” As chipper as he can manage, Bill calls out as they carry him away, “I told ya I’d beat ya back to the States, Joe!”

Someone touches Zenie’s arm, making her jump. Sergeant Lipton is studying her with his all-knowing eyes. “Tommy, are you okay?”

He doesn’t stop her when she walks away, never answering his question. No one calls out after her or tries to follow her.

She doesn’t make it back to Shifty in their foxhole. Instead, she drops down into the nearest one that she sees. Her helmet feels heavy in her hands as she removes it and runs a shaking hand through her hair. Any time that she cried as a little girl, her mom would stroke her hair like this.

But Mama isn’t here now. No one is. She’s all alone.

Words – the words she wants to scream up at the sky, up at God, if He’s really up there – stick in her dry mouth, lodging in her sandpaper throat so that she chokes on them. It’s not until she’s been sitting there, shaking for a thousand years, that she manages to loosen them enough to whisper to no one the single sentence that keeps racing through her mind.

“What the fuck?!”

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #shifty powers #shifty powers x original female character #shifty powers x ofc #bill guarnere #eugene roe #babe heffron #joe toye #my writing #oc zenie mcglamery #hbo war fanfic #hbo war

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bellewintersroe · 1 year

Text

Band of brothers masterlist 🤍🩷🤍

Finally! Here’s some direct links to my work so far :)

All boys: general hc’s:

Platonic BoB x reader - angst. Easy boys reacting to seeing their lady lieutenant for the first time. Easy boys x reader how they react to accidentally upsetting you.

Easy boys x reader the morning after their first time. Easy boys x reader the morning after their first time, part 2.

Easy boys x reader in Bastogne.

Easy boys x nurse headcannons p1. Easy boys x nurse headcanons p2.

Easy boys x nurse headcannons p3. Easy’s reaction to nurse reader getting hurt.

Easy boys x nurse how they react to you finding them hurt. Easy boys x reader enemies to lovers.

Easy boys x reader they see you dressed up for the first time. Easy boys x reader they see your scars for the first time. Easy boys x nurse how they react to you having fun in the water.

Easy boys x reader they take care of your baby alone for the first time.

Easy boys x reader how they react to you going MIA.

Part 2.

Easy boys x reader how they comfort you when you’re overworked

Easy boys x reader sleeping with them after a long time 18+

Ron Speirs:

Protective Ron Speirs x reader. Snowy Days, Ron x reader.

British girl x Ron headcanons - Ron being in a relationship with a girl from Britain.

Ron Speirs x nurse! OC multiple part smut - when celebrations reach a high in the eagles nest, who knew their hook up would be more than a one time thing?

Part 1.

Part 2.

Part 3.

Part 4.

Part 5.

Part 6.

Part 7.

Ron Speirs x ArmyNurse! OC mini series - Margaret ‘Maggie’ Emerson, an army nurse attached to the 506th parachute infantry regiment, finds herself growing closer to her company’s captain, Ronald Speirs. With war drawing to an end, a side to the mystery that is Captain Speirs is revealed. Both Maggie and Ron have a difficult time resisting their attraction to one another.

Part 1.

Part 2.

Joe Liebgott:

Joe Liebgott x reader x Talbert smut. - you, joe and Floyd have some fun on New Year’s Eve in a foxhole. Joe x reader x Talbert smut p2- Joe and Floyd finally give you what you’ve been waiting for…

Untitled Joe Liebgott x reader Drabble. Joe Liebgott x reader angst- the two times Joe doesn’t want to see you and the one time he does.

Joe x reader x Shifty - a request for how Joe would react when he’s in love with you but you’re with Shifty.

Gene and Liebgott Headcannons - when they think they’ve lost you for good but then you reunite with them days later, worse for wear.

Joe Liebgott smut - reader becomes slightly dominant over Joe (request).

Joe Liebgott x reader - You and Joe are ‘best friends’ that occasionally mess around… Joe’s feelings are revealed to you when he defends you from a rather nasty D-company soldier.

Babe Heffron:

Babe Heffron x oc smut- Babe and OC spend some well deserved time together.

Eugene Roe:

Quiet Confessions, Eugene x reader smut - as the title described, quiet confessions between Gene and reader. Sympathy for the Enemy, Gene x oc - oc struggles with hating the enemy, especially when some of them are just boys. Gene comforts her when the inevitable happens. Vocal Gene x reader smut- Requested by a reader! Gene is obsessed with you and expresses this through being vocal in the bedroom… Friends to Lovers, Eugene x reader smut - you and Gene are friends for the longest time until one night that changes with a steamy exchange whilst walking home…

Gene x reader headcanons - just some headcanons on how your friendship turns into a relationship throughout the time during the war you spend together.

Gene and Liebgott Headcannons - when they think they’ve lost you for good but then you reunite with them days later, worse for wear.

Floyd Talbert:

Floyd x reader smut - Floyd and your tension reaches a boiling point after two years together. Liebgott x reader x Talbert smut - threesome.

Liebgott x reader x Talbert smut p2. - threesome continued!

Talbert + Christenson headcanons.

James ‘Moe’ Alley:

Alley x oc was nurse! Jenny. Headcanons of their developing relationship throughout the war.

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5.

Skip Muck:

Skip x reader - mutual pinining - friends to lovers arc. Lewis Nixon:

One night stand, Nixon X Reader - after a long night of boozing you and Captain Nixon wake up besides each other, shocked by your actions of the night before.

Chuck Grant:

Chuck x nurse reader headcanons.

Chuck Grant x reader smut.

Alton More:

Tags

@floydtab @alienoresimagines @order-of-river-phoenix @julianneday1701 @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @wexhappyxfew @rarmiitage @mavysnavy @punkgeekchic @vintagelavenderskies @georgeluzwarmhugs @ray--person @wecomrades @jussipogideonlaufeyson @happyveday @snafus-peckuh @little-babydolly @kathikon

My Taglist

(feel free to add/remove yourself on my taglist! or you can message me. thank you so much.💗)

A/N: It’s really ending omg I can’t believe I’m almost done with this. I’m sorry in advance to whoever reads this 👀

I have an announcement to make in a few days! Keep your eyes peeled. Thank you so much for all the feedback you’ve given me.

Happy reading! Have a good day, and take care of yourselves. 🌟🌟

#this lifetime: babe heffron #my full fics #band of brothers #hbo war #hbowar #band of brothers fanfic #edward heffron #babe heffron #babe heffron x oc #edward heffron x oc

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siren-meets · 5 years

Text

Babe Heffron x OC - The Busy and the Tired

Summary: After telling a white lie to a beautiful girl, Babe Heffron does his homework and discovers why home isn’t what it used to be, and how he can learn to live on anyway. Babe Heffron/OC. One-shot.

Rating: General Audiences

(Also posted to my Ao3 and FFN, both linked in my profile!)

“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.”

― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

In later years, Babe Heffron would tell people that he walked right up to Liz the moment he saw her and struck up a conversation -- that he’d been inexplicably drawn to her. The second part was true enough, but he didn’t actually work up the nerve to talk to her until the third time he saw her.

Because fate was kind, Liz was a lover of routine and the type to frequent the same place at the same time just about every day. This was partly why he had zeroed in on her. Something about the way she sat on the same bench, unwrapped the same sandwich, and opened up her book at the same time every day was a draw -- a comfort, even -- and he’d resolved on that first day that it was a good routine, and that he would continue to take his lunch break at the same park, at the same time.

On that third instance (henceforth to be recorded as “the first instance,” remember), he walked right up to her. She didn’t look up from the book on her lap right away, and he stood for an uncomfortable moment, deciding if he still had time to turn back. Just when he began to move, determined to save face and try again later, she noticed his shoes in her peripheral vision and looked up.

“Oh, hello.” Her voice was bright and soft, and exactly as he’d imagined it might be. Because she’d looked up just as he was moving away, there was an awkward moment where he couldn’t decide whether to keep his momentum and keep walking or stop and lean into the discomfort. The little, reassuring smile she gave after greeting him made the decision for him, and he stayed, bouncing on his heels with a nervous energy instead.

“Hi,” He began, shoving his free hand into his pocket to keep it from fidgeting, “I don’t mean to bother you or anything, but...” He was already about 2 miles off the rails from what he’d planned to say. “I saw you reading, and I was just...wondering what you’re reading.”

"Oh, of course!" She said, putting her thumb down to keep her place and flipping the book closed so that he could see the cover. He tilted his head and leaned forward a bit to get a better look.

“Oh yeah, The Great Gatsby,” He said, eyebrows rising in recognition as he pulled the hand from his pocket and pointed at it. “A good one.”

He hadn’t said he’d read it, exactly, but the implication was there, and her eyes lit up. She glanced down at the paper bag in his hand and straightened.

“Are you on lunch right now?” She asked, gesturing to the spot on the bench next to her. Babe didn’t need to be given a verbal invitation as he sat down on the wooden bench, mindful to leave a proper amount of space so he didn’t seem like a creep.

“Yeah, I am. I’m Babe Heffron,” He said, holding out a hand. She shook it.

“Hi, Babe. Liz Barnes,” She returned. The tiniest bit of color settled on her cheeks as she said his name, and Babe resisted the urge to chuckle when he noticed it.

“So, uh, you’re on your lunch break, too?” He asked, unwrapping his sandwich to keep his hands busy.

“Yeah, I work over at a law firm in that building across the street,” She explained, pointing. Babe followed her finger and nodded.

“Oh, I’ve been in that office park before,” He said, taking a bite of his sandwich. He went to say something else, but then realized he shouldn’t talk to her with his mouth full, so he held up a finger instead. Liz laughed -- the sound was light and reminded him of bells. Babe swallowed. “What do you do there?”

“I’m a file clerk,” she answered, taking a bite of her own sandwich. He watched her pick up her napkin and dab it against her lips when she was done taking the bite. It was something he’d noticed about her from afar, when he’d been too nervous to approach. She wiped her mouth after practically every bite. It was an interesting ritual and had made him wonder if she was uptight -- he hadn’t been expecting this warm of a reception and was practically shaking with excitement from it. “What about you?”

“I work over at Publicker’s,” he said, sucking some mayo off one of his fingers. “The whiskey distillery?”

“Right! Right.” She replied, nodding vigorously. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long,” Babe answered. He paused a moment, and then “I just got back from Europe about a month ago.”

He didn’t need to say more for her to understand, and she nodded again.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

Not that must have been so hard. Not tell me all about it. Not I’m so sorry you went through that. Just a simple, bright I’m glad you’re here.

And Babe found that he wanted to be here. Right here, in this exact spot, forever.

______________________________

So, naturally, he returned the next day. Liz, same as yesterday, greeted him with a kind smile and moved her bag to let him know that it was okay for him to sit. They ate in companionable silence for the first few minutes, mostly because Babe didn’t want to stop her from reading, if that’s what she wanted to do. Soon enough, though, she chose to abandon the book for conversation.

“So, what else do you like to do besides reading, Babe?” She asked, bookmarking her page. Babe dropped his sandwich away from his mouth and swallowed, thinking about it. When he was overseas, he had thought constantly about all the stuff he wanted to do when he got back to the states. Once he did get back, though, when all was said and done, he couldn’t remember any of it. None of it seemed to matter so much anymore. It was like this: next to his house, there had always been this colorful, vibrant mural that he loved since childhood. Well, while he was gone, they’d painted over it and made it black. That was how he felt -- blank. A dull shadow of what was once there. What had he enjoyed doing before the war? Whatever it was, he must not enjoy it that much anymore, to not even remember it.

“I like baseball,” He answered, finally, “There’s nothin’ like watching the Phillies play.”

Liz smiled warmly and opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off.

“What part are you at?” He asked. Confusion formed on Liz’s brow, and he gestured to the book in her lap. “How far are you?”

“Oh,” she said, picking it up. “Tom just found out about the affair.”

“Oh, yeah,” Babe replied, “That Tom’s a real creep, huh? How about when he broke that girl’s nose?”

Liz’s eyebrows rose the slightest bit, but that was her only tell. She was surprised. Babe couldn’t decide if he was proud of the reaction, or offended that she hadn’t actually believed him. But then he remembered that he had lied, and let the pride win out. He’d literally run to Foster’s Books after he got off work the night before to get a copy of The Great Gatsby before they closed. He hadn’t gotten nearly as far as he’d hoped to last night (it’d been a while since he’d read a book all the way through), and his coworkers had ribbed him relentlessly all day after they caught him sneaking it out during his downtime moments at the distillery today. He hadn’t gotten as far as she was, but he felt confident he’d read enough to have a conversation.

“Yes, he’s driving me crazy,” She agreed, recovering quickly, “He’s a horrible hypocrite, if you ask me.”

“Gatsby’s just as bad, really.” Babe said, leaning back and spreading an arm across the back of the bench.

“Why do you say that?” She asked, her full attention on him now.

“The guy comes back from the war, and he thinks he’s just gonna make a lot of money, marry the girl of his dreams, and never have problems again? Trust me, it ain’t like that. You come back to the states and you realize --” He stopped and bit the inside of his cheek, reconsidering what he was about to share.

“Realize what?”

“It’s not what it was. That’s all. It’s not what it was before you left.”

They were quiet for a long moment, as Liz thought about what he said, watching him carefully. “Maybe it is what it was, and you’re just able to see it better for what it is. I mean, that’s what the book’s about, right? Complicating the idea of The American Dream?”

Babe had no idea. He would need to finish it tonight -- he glanced down at her bookmark and saw that she was almost finished with it. It would be a long night.

“He should’ve come back with an open mind, instead of expecting everything to be a certain way. Seen what life had to offer him, you know?” Babe said, thinking aloud.

“I agree,” Liz replied.

“It is pretty great how hard he’s trying with Daisy, though.” He added, changing the subject. Liz raised an eyebrow.

“Is it?”

“Well, yeah. Throwing elaborate parties, trying to fit in with the elite and all that. He’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.”

The corners of Liz’s lips upturned a tiny bit.

“I don’t think he’s gotta do that.”

____________________________________

When Babe showed up the next day, he hoped that the bags under his eyes wouldn’t betray the fact that he’d just managed to finish The Great Gatsby the night before. He felt a swell of satisfaction when he approached the bench and saw that Liz was no longer carrying the book either -- she’d finished it, too.

Just like the day before, he sat down next to her, and they ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Just as he was finally sorting out what questions he wanted to ask her about the book, she broke the silence.

“So how did you like the ending?” She asked, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. Babe sat up a bit straighter, shifting uncomfortably. He’d been made. She didn’t appear to be upset, but he watched her warily.

“It was sad,” Was all he said.

“It was.”

Silence fell on them again, and they went back to their lunches. After a few moments, Babe bit the bullet.

“So...you wanna go to a baseball game some time?”

Liz smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#band of brothers #hbo war #babe heffron #babe heffron x oc #bobfic

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mccall-muffin · 1 year

Text

Love vs. Hate - Part 23 // Joe Liebgott x OC

Summary: The days go on in the freezing hell, but there seems no end to it. Though Liv is finally reunited with Joe, the loss of their friends and fellow soldiers is taking a big toll on them.

Warnings: Language, War wounds, death

A/N: Okay, okay, okay, okay. I'm BACK! I'm literally not happy with that chapter and I'm soooooo sorry, it took me so long. I had a massive writers block and now this is what came out of it. I'm sorry, I'll try to do better with the next.

Here is my Masterlist

Taglist: @brassknucklespeirs, @liebgotts-lovergirl, @lieutenant-speirs, @mads-weasley, @emmylindersson

January 2nd, 1945 - Bastogne, Belgium

This morning, I finally gather the courage to approach Babe. Over the last few days, he's been avoiding me, and the tension between us is palpable.

I spot him standing with the others, waiting for food, and I steel myself for the conversation. As I walk up to him, he glances up but quickly averts his eyes, and I can feel the uncomfortable atmosphere surrounding us. Taking a deep breath, I call out his name, "Babe."

He responds with a slightly sarcastic tone, "What is it, Sarge?"

"I need to talk to you. Now," I assert, gesturing with my head for him to follow me away from the others.

Reluctantly, he joins me, crossing his arms defensively. "What is it?" he asks, clearly on guard.

I sigh, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. "Listen, umm... I'm really sorry about Julian," I say, and Babe finally looks at me, but he remains silent. "You know that I didn't have any other choice."

Babe snorts, shaking his head. "You know the funny thing about that sentence is, that it's bullshit. You always have a choice."

His words weigh heavily on me. "Maybe that's true. And yesterday, I made that choice. I chose not to let you die, too. Do you even get that? If I had let you go for him, you would be as dead as he is right now!"

"So now you want me to thank you for saving my life? Is that it?" Babe retorts with bitterness.

"No, for fuck's sake! Of course not!" I reply, my frustration evident. "I just want you to understand what I did. I don't need you to like my decisions because, hell, I couldn't care less about that. I just want you to understand them because you are in my platoon, and I want to look out for my men."

There's a moment of silence as Babe absorbs my words. He rubs his nose, sniffs, and looks at me again, his eyes glazed with emotion, and his lip trembles.

"He was my friend, you know?" he finally speaks, his voice shaky.

"I know," I respond gently, nodding slowly in acknowledgment.

"I know what you settled with him," I continue, my voice softening. "I'm glad you can keep your word."

Confusion flickers across Babe's face. "What do you mean, Liv?"

"We were able to get him. Julian," I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling out his Class ring, wallet, watch, and dog tags.

Babe is taken aback, almost unable to comprehend my words. "You-? What?" he stammers, as I hand him his fallen comrade's possessions.

"We sent out another patrol this morning. The Krauts retreated, and we found Julian. I don't think they even noticed him yet," I explain, my voice tinged with sadness.

"If you want... If you want, you can look at him," I offer softly, placing a comforting hand on Babe's arm, though he quickly shakes his head.

"I- I can't," he whispers, his emotions overwhelming him. Then, he looks at me with teary eyes, hesitating before asking, "Did you- did you lead...?"

I press my lips together, knowing what he's trying to ask. With a heavy heart, I nod, and Babe breaks down, pulling me into a tight embrace.

"Thank you!" he whispers, and I gently stroke his back, offering comfort in the face of loss.

"It's okay," I reassure him, understanding the depth of his emotions.

As Babe returns to the others, my attention is caught by Joe, standing before me. Adrenaline courses through my veins, and I nervously bite my lips as he eyes me. Trying to hide the scar under my left eye, I lower my head to the left.

"Liv," Joe whispers, stepping closer to me. My lips begin to tremble as he places a hand under my chin, gently lifting my head. "Hey," he says softly, looking me in the eye. "Why are you trying to hide from me?"

I've imagined this moment countless times, but now I feel ashamed of my scars and vulnerability.

"It looks terrible," I admit, barely audible, and the redness under my eye only worsens my insecurity.

"Liv," Joe says firmly, his expression filled with tenderness. Then, he envelops me in his arms. "I don't care about any of that. The main thing is that you're standing here in front of me, alive!"

Tears well up in my eyes as I press myself against his chest, feeling the warmth and security he provides.

God damn, how can one person always evoke such a profound reaction in me?

As we hold each other in the freezing forest, surrounded by the sounds of war and the remnants of tragedy, the intensity of our emotions overwhelms us both. Joe's arms tighten around me, and I find comfort in his embrace. The world around us fades, and it's just the two of us, connected in this moment of vulnerability.

"I missed you, Liv," Joe whispers into my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "I couldn't stop thinking about you when I was away."

"I missed you too, Joe," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was so relieved when I heard they pulled you away. But now you're here again. What if we won't make it through this fucking hell?"

"We're both still here, though," Joe says softly, lifting my chin with his fingers so I meet his gaze. "And I'm not going anywhere, not without you."

The weight of the war, the losses, and the constant danger seem to fade away when we're in each other's arms. In this desolate place, I find solace in the bond we've forged, knowing that I'm not alone in the midst of the chaos.

As I pull away, I feel a sense of tranquility, knowing that we have each other to lean on in this tumultuous time.

"I don't know what the future holds, Joe," I say, a hint of sadness in your voice. "But right now, being here with you, that's all that matters."

Joe nods his expression a mixture of determination and love. "We'll get through this together, Liv. I promise."

As we stand together, hand in hand, you both know that the road ahead won't be easy. The war continues to rage on, and the future remains uncertain. But at this moment, we find strength in each other and the knowledge that we have something worth fighting for.

"We should head back," Joe says, breaking the silence. "They'll start wondering where we went."

I nod, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace. As we walk back toward the others, I know that our relationship is no longer a secret. And while the dangers of fraternization persist, I find comfort in the fact that I have a love that keeps me grounded amidst the chaos.

January 3rd, 1945, Bastogne, Belgium

After holding the line at Bastogne we were once again called on to help push the Germans back through the Bulge. I stand next to Buck, overlooking a map with Lip and Buck. Bill stands next to us and Muck and Penkala also. We have the map on Don's back.

"We were here this morning and then we came this way", Buck explains. "Right, so, right here's gotta be the logging road coming into here, which means we get right there", he says showing it with his finger and then hitting Don on the head.

"Hey!", Don says. "Take it easy." I chuckle and nudge him.

"Stop crying, Malark or I'll nail it to your head", Buck then says and I chuckle.

"Good, it's made of wood", Bill says and Buck is looking at me, before he nods. I nod back at him.

"Guarnere, move them out, let's go", Buck then says.

"Yes, sir. 2nd Platoon, let's go!"

I'm glad to be out of my foxhole and moving again. Even if only to get warm. We are being sent to clear the Bois Jacques the woods near the town of Foy in preparation for what we knew would be the eventual assault on Foy itself.

During that 1,000 yard attack through the woods we encountered German machine gun fire and had a couple of casualties. But, for the most part, met little resistance. Hoob's run-in with the German officer on was the most dramatic moment of the day.

Amidst the freezing darkness of the night, we huddle together in a small foxhole, seeking whatever comfort and warmth we can find. The sounds of distant gunfire and explosions serve as a constant reminder of the perilous reality we face. Exhausted and weary from the relentless battles, we are startled by the sudden sound of a gunshot, piercing through the quiet night.

"What the fuck was that?" I exclaim, my heart racing as I instinctively reach for my rifle. Beside me, Don looks equally alarmed, his eyes wide with concern.

As the echoes of the shot fade, the urgent voices of our fellow soldiers guide us toward the source. "Jesus, it's Hoobs, he's shot!" someone calls out, and without hesitation, we rush to Hoob's side.

"What? Sniper?" I inquire, fearing the worst.

"No, he shot himself," comes the disheartening response.

As Lip joins us, his face reflects the gravity of the situation. "What happened?" he asks, seeking to understand the circumstances.

"It just went off," Hoobs explains, his voice filled with pain and regret. Kneeling down beside him, I take his hand, trying to offer some comfort amidst the chaos.

"Why is there a loaded gun in your pants?" I inquire, struggling to comprehend what led to this tragic event.

"Liv, I wasn't touching it or nothing. Goddamn it," Hoob desperately responds, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I wasn't touching it, I swear."

Sighing with a mix of frustration and concern, I call out for the medic, knowing that Hoobs needs immediate attention.

"Medic!"

Doc quickly arrives at the scene, his experienced hands taking charge. "Hold on. Wrap him up. Hang in there. Come on," Doc reassures Hoob, doing his best to stabilize the wounded soldier.

"Lip. You said I was a great shot, right?" Hoob asks, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

"You're a great shot. Come on, you jump out of planes. You're tough," Lipton responds, trying to encourage him.

As we gather around, trying to keep Hoob warm, we continue to talk to him, hoping to distract him from the pain and fear.

"He's still shivering," I note, my heart breaking for our wounded comrade.

"It's not that bad at all, come on," Perconte tries to reassure Hoob, but the situation remains dire.

"Stay with us. Hoob, take it easy," Doc urges, his dedication unwavering despite the grim circumstances.

"What are we gonna do?" Don asks, his voice heavy with helplessness.

"How are we doing?" Lip inquires, seeking an update from Doc.

"You're gonna be fine," I assure Hoob, holding his hand tightly.

"We've gotta get him to an aid station. Hold on tight. All right, let's get ready to move him. Take it easy. Stay there, Hoob," Doc commands, already preparing for the difficult task ahead.

As we work together to get Hoob ready for transport, I call out to Doc, my voice filled with concern and desperation. "Doc!"

But before Doc can respond, I realize the truth, and my heart sinks.

"Can't see anything", Doc says still occupied with Hoobs leg.

"Doc!" I point to Hoob, who is already gone, and the weight of the moment settles heavily on us all.

"Jesus," Doc murmurs, shaken by the loss.

"Lipton, we need a jeep," Perconte says, his voice heavy with grief.

As we reflect on the tragedy that has unfolded before us, we come to the sad realization that Hoob's life has been cut short by an unfortunate accident. Despite our frantic efforts, his injuries proved too severe, leaving us with a void that cannot be filled.

As we return to our foxholes, the weight of his loss hangs heavy on our hearts, and the darkness of the night is now intensified by the shadow of a fallen comrade. We mourn the loss of a fellow soldier, knowing that his memory will forever be etched in our hearts as we continue to face the relentless turmoil of war.

The following day, we're pulled back a little to grab a much-needed meal after that horrific night. Word spread out fast, that we lost our friend Donals Hoobler that night.

Seated on the ground next to Joe, I massage my temples, trying to soothe the incredible headaches that have haunted me since I was hit. I close my eyes, attempting to find some relief from the pain. The pills Doc Roe gave me are helpful, but there's just not enough to fully ease the agony.

In the midst of my discomfort, I hear Muck's voice raise, and I open my eyes to see him approaching. "Fellas, look who I found. Joe Toye, back for more," he announces, with Joe Toye standing next to him. Joe looks a bit worse for wear, but knowing him, he's determined to soldier on.

Joe nudges me, and when I look at him, he winks quickly, as if to reassure me. However, my attention is soon drawn back to Muck, who's joined by Don, Penkala, and a replacement named Webb. They're sharing stories of how people got hit, trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't worry, there's enough crap flying around here. You're bound to get dinged sometime. Almost every single one of these guys has been hit at least once. Except for Alley, he's a two-timer. He landed on broken glass in Normandy... and got peppered by a potato masher in Holland," Muck says as he walks through the ranks.

I follow his gaze and chuckle, appreciating how he's trying to downplay the danger we face. The camaraderie and banter among the soldiers provide a semblance of comfort in this harsh reality.

"Now, Bull, he got a piece of an exploding tank in Holland," Muck points out, and Bull doesn't seem too thrilled about the reminder. "And George Luz here has never been hit. You're one lucky bastard."

"Takes one to know one, Skip," George playfully retorts, drawing laughter from me as I rub my eyes, still struggling with the headache.

"Consider us blessed," Muck shrugs, before making his way over to us. "Now, our dear Sergeant Stark over there, that blonde beauty you see, got a nice graze in Nuenen - 26 stitches, right Liv?" he remarks, and I lift my head, feeling slightly annoyed.

"29, actually," I correct him.

"Oh, whatever. And as you can see, she got a little Christmas gift from the Germans on her face as well. An improvement, if you ask me."

"Bite me, Skip," I respond, playfully giving him the finger, which only elicits a chuckle from him.

"Eh, come on, Sweetheart. But don't try something with her, or you don't need to worry about ding flying around. Liebgott, the skinny little guy next to her... will take care of you then, if you know what I mean," Muck teases, drawing Joe's attention as well.

"Ah, shut up, Skip!" I interject, feeling the teasing becoming a bit too much. I stand up and walk over to Don, who's smirking.

I offer him the rest of my bread and nudge him affectionately. "Just telling the truth here, Liv," Muck defends himself. "Well, he got pinged in the neck in Holland. Right next to him, that other skinny little guy, that's Popeye. He got shot in his scrawny little butt in Normandy."

"And Buck got shot in his rather large butt in Holland," Don chimes in with a smirk.

As they continue their banter, I step away, seeking a moment of solitude to collect myself. The headache persists, and I take a sip from my water bottle, wondering how I'll endure this hellish war when it feels like my head could explode at any minute.

#Band of Brothers #Joe Liebgott x OC #Joe Liebgott #Don Malarkey #Babe Heffron #Band of Brothers fanfic #Bobedit #hbo war #hbo series #bob #Joe Liebgott fanfic #Part 23 #Love vs. Hate

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trashbag-baby666 · 11 months

Text

George, Web, and the Costume Fiasco of 2023-Webgott and Luztoye.

Summary: here’s my Halloween Finale!!! Enjoy this silly story of a huge costume mix up!

WC: 1,410

C/W: NSFW dancing??

BofB Masterlist!

2:45 PM, October 31st 2023.

Webgott:

"Joe! we have to go get our costumes like now!" Web was standing at Liebs bedside and Lieb pulled the blankets back over his eyes.

"Jus' go I'm so tired." Lieb murmured waving his hand blindly at his boyfriend.

"No! Because you need to try on your size!" Web huffed getting frustrated. Last night Daisy and Lieb had smoked a lot of weed and then walked to 7/11. Where a guy cat called Daisy and Lieb decided that it was a genius idea to fight a guy. While he was too high to remember his own name.

Long story short Lieb had a black eye and he was still tired.

"Gott verdamme dich, Joe." Web said with a sharp frustrated sigh and put his hands on his hips.

Web got his phone out of his pocket and dialed the Spirit Halloween number.

"Toccoa Spirit Halloween," a less then thrilled voice came through the phone.

"Hi I was wondering if you could check if you had a costume please." Web said with his fake customer service voice.

"Yeah?" The guy huffed.

"The shark costume not the inflatable one the onesie style one." Web was crossing his fingers their costumes would still be available.

"We have one left in a size medium."

Web did a small happy dance, "Awesome! I'll be there to get it soon!" He turned and looked at Lieb who was looking back at Web with his one eye still swelled, "Get up. Now we have to find you a costume since they only have one."

2:50 PM October 31st, 2023

Luztoye

"Fuck," Joe grunted him and George were going to be roller blade Barbie and Ken. But now there plan was put on hold.

"What? Oh." George came out of his bathroom and saw Joe sitting on his desk chair. Not only had he ripped his costume he could see where his boyfriend was trying to put on his prosthetic and he was very much in pain.

"Hey, hey it's okay." George came to his side, "If it hurts, it hurts. If it's swelled, it's swelled. Don't worry about it." George checked his watch.

These were some of Joes bad days when he was in and increasingly higher amount of pain.

"Look Spirit Halloween doesn't close till 7 and we have plenty of time to go get us a new costume before the party. Plus! They're probably have mega clearance since it's Halloween!"

Joe smiled a bit, he knew George loved a good sale. He was just like Carwood, loved some couponing and searching for the best deals.

3:25 PM October, 31st

Webgott

Web barely had time to put his Tesla in park as he got out of the car storming towards the door and Lieb in toe behind him.

"Jesus fuck, Web." Lieb grumbled pulling his baseball hat down lower as they walked into the store.

Web didn't even have time to flinch at the clown animatronic jumping at him. Or the scarecrow yelling at him. He charged up to the counter, "Hi where can I find that shake onesie I called about?" Web smiled at the guy who looked like he was one more customer like Web away from quitting.

"We just sold the last one. Sorry man." He shrugged.

Web blinked blankly processing the information.

"Thank you." He put on a fake smile before grabbing Liebs hand and taking him to the corner of the store.

"You! Why couldn't you just pick up our costumes when I told you too!" Web pointed accusingly at the taller boy.

"Hell, how is this my fault? You're the one who wanted to dress up as two fucking sharks you should've came and picked them up." Lieb scoffed.

"Joe! I already had placed the order and you literally just had to come in and get them! You know I've had back to back tests this whole week! I didn't have time!" Web was damn near shaking.

Web broke his eye contact with Lieb as everyone in the store was staring at them.

"Look, there's not much left what's find what we can and get going." Web sighed shaking his head and dragging Lieb over to the couple costumes.

6:30 PM October 31st, 2023

Luztoye

"Wait I thought you guys were dressing up as roller bladder Barbie and Ken?" Daisy looked at her brother confusingly.

"Yeah Joes stump swelled and he couldn't wear his leg, so we just decided to do a different costume." George shrugged, "So yeah I'm the shark that bit off Joes leg."

"Wasn't he in a car aci," Daisy started. She was already a bit drunk and her brain wasn't making sense.

"Yes Daisy...the shark story is just something we tell Babe." George hummed and took a drink of his beer, "Where's Lieb and Web?"

It was weird to see Daisy without Lieb or Billy. Especially Daisy and Lieb at a party. They would sit on the couch sharing a cart or in the bathroom smoking a joint.

"I don't know actually," Daisy shrugged then skipped away back over to Billy who was in the kitchen.

5:45 PM October 31st, 2023

Webgott

Web walked into the Speirs house and he felt absolutely ridiculous.

The only couple costume in their size was a playboy bunny costume and Hugh Hefenor.

But mostly so Lieb could hide his black eye with the captains hat.

"God damn," a very drunk Babe in a 'sexy Chica' costume walked over to Web snapping his fingers.

"Yeah I know I look fucking terrible." Web shook his head. He found himself in a black satin leotard with a bow tie and the signature Playboy Bunny ears.

"Nah uh! Honey!" Babe snapped doing his best Ru Paul voice.

"Well thank you," Web giggled feeling a bit better till he saw George walk into the living room with his shark costume on, "George Luz Speirs!" Web gasped looked at the shorter boy.

"Oh hey Web," George waved.

"You're wearing my costume!" Webs eyebrows were raised so high they might as well just disappear into his hairline. Web had taken two shots of vodka on the way in the car. He was nervous about his costume, he always had body issues. Especially growing up as a ballerina and his mom berating him.

"What do you mean? I just bought this?" George looked at the shark onesie.

"Just bought it!? Were you the person who bought my costume?" Web stumbled a bit.

"Don't worry about him, he got drunk on the way here. It's a long story." Lieb walked over dressed as Hugh Hefner and grabbed Web.

"So was Web going to be Hugh Hefner's first 'Playboy Shark?" George snickered at his own joke.

"No we were going to be two sharks. I don't know some couple costume. But we didn't get our costumes in time and this is all that they had left in our sizes that remotely matched." Lieb shrugged sitting Web on the couch.

"Weren't you supposed to be Barbie and Ken?" Lieb asked as George sat next to Joe that had his leg off and fake blood on his shorts.

"Stump swelled, couldn't wear my leg then accidentally ripped it trying to make it work." Joe explained and George sat next to him snuggling right into his arm.

"And I bit him!" George chomped his teeth towards Joe, "Now you're a manwich." George snickered.

"Interesting, who's Daisy and Billy supposed to be." Lieb sat forward a bit. Web had completely melted into the couch and fell asleep.

"Finnick and Annie from The Hunger Games franchise. I bet you're confused by Babe and." George started.

"George I assure you that I did play Five Nights at Freddie's growing up. What I'm confused by is why a slutty Chica and Freddie Fazbear is bumping and grinding against Monty Alligator." Lieb snickered a bit.

"Man I really don't know," George shook his head and looked at Joe and he just shrugged, “Oh my god Babe what are you doing?” George whipped his head as he saw the red head wrestling one of George and Daisy’s dogs into a cupcake costume.

“Please just take my picture she’s part of my costume.” He picked up the small chihuahua that was growling at him and Babe held the dog posing for his photo.

“God damn I need another.” George shook his head going back into the kitchen.

#halloween fic #babe is dressed as chica #web and lieb fight #modern au #band of brothers #joe liebgott #david webster #george luz #joe toye #luztoye #webgott #babe heffron #eugene roe #baberoe #baberoe x male oc #OC’s of mine mentioned in the story

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marycorleone · 1 year

Text

The Girl Paratrooper - Joe Liebgott X F! OC - Chapter IV

Face claim: Kaya Scodelario as Mary Corleone

Bill and Mary organize the first Easy reunion, in 1947. All the boys are invited, including Lieb, what make show up emotions that Mary swore was hidden in her heart. At the same time, Bill meets Leigh Spencer, the girl who make him alive during the war, before Mary approach him.

@msmercury84 as Leigh Spencer. This character was created by her. Visit her profile and see her fanfic 🤗😉

1947

Bill started to organize Easy Reunions and that was the first year.

Mary invited all the boys and girls who served with her and Bill and inspite of the problems with her marriage, she was trying to be happy.

The hardest part of all was to invite Lieb, cause of all they lived together, but Bill said him was an important part of Easy's memories, so she send an invitation for that boy.

In the great day, the boys started to arrive in the saloon. The couple saw Babe Heffron with his wife, Dick Winters, Lewis Nixon, Ronald Speirs (this really make them surprised).

"It's an honor, sir." Mary Saluted her captain.

"All right." He replied with a sad smile. "How are your leg, Bill?"

"I'm fine. Mary helps me a lot."

A few seconds later, Chuck Grant arrived. Mary ran to her old friend.

"Chuck! I miss you! I'm so glad you came!"

"Mary! I'm so sorry. I couldn't come your wedding."

"Oh, no problem!" She looked for Bill, that made a hand gesture. "We know you still recovering, and we also know we got married so fast."

"It's so good to be here, with all the Easy" He replied.

"Come on. Let's find a table for you!" Mary took him for take a seat with George Luz and Frank Perconte.

That moment bill saw a girl arriving and got disturbed. She was Leigh Spencer. Looked like she also got disturbed case her tried escape from him.

"Wait!" He called. "I remember you. You're..."

"Leigh, the songbird of Easy. I was from I Company, but I for transferred to Easy. It was after your..."

Her look died while she looked for his leg.

"Good night! You came to sing for us. Right?" Mary approached.

"Yeah. Where I'll sing?"

"On that stage! C'mon!" Mary took her to the stage, and Bill can't stop thinking about her.

After Bill feel his heart ache, it was Mary's time when Joe Liebgott finally arrive.

"Good night" He wished to Mary that was with Leigh on the stage. Leigh realized that was something between them, and she remembered the night when Chuck was shot. It was obvious there was a feeling between Mary and Joe Liebgott, but she got married with Bill. No, probably there was nothing and she was creating things in her mind cause she was crazy for Bill Guarnere since the Toccoa.

No. Bill Guarnere got married with THAT girl and all her needed to do was to accept this fact and limited herself to do what she came for: sing for the company that was welcomed her.

"Take a seat and don't even look for me!" Mary said Lieb.

"Mary, I'd..."

"Stay away from me! Now I'm married and I love my husband!" She said lower before to go to seat along Bill.

During Leigh's concert, Mary looked behind and saw Lieb looking for her. What the fuck she had with her life? She didn't love Bill. It was only a friendship. A strong friendship that she had confused with a love. Shit! Why Joe had made that one with their relationship? Why he cheated on her?

Bill looked his wife's face, that was drowning in tears.

"What happened?"

"I'm not fine. I want to leave here. Please, let's go to home, Bill. I'm just not fine."

"Calm down, Mary." He asked lower. "What happened? Tell me. You wanted more anxious for this reunion than me."

"I thought I'd be happy with all the Easy together again, but I'm not. I want to leave here."

Before he could hold her, Mary get up, got her bag and leave the saloon.

"Shit!" Bill cursed.

Then he observed Leigh singing again and remembered when he first met her, still in Toccoa. Why he allowed himself to get married with a girl who him didn't love?

"It was done. I already got married and now there is nothing I can do about it. I'm a married man!" He tried to convince himself. Leigh started to sing a romantic song, and again he remembered the great times him spent with her. "Shit! Why I done it?"

Mary was crying outside when George Luz approached.

"Mary? Oh, Mary. Why?" He hug her. They always are good friends, but Mary couldn't tell him what was passing in her heart. I'm other hand, Luz looked already know.

"It's him. Right? Oh, Mary. Chuck told me you told him that you and Bill got married so fast. That's right. It was so fast. You thought get married would make you forget Lieb. But now you saw him and..."

"Luz, please. I'm so fucked with all this shit. Just keep hugging me. Please?" She was still crying.

"Right. You have a right to cry."

"Mary?" Another voice broke up the silence. It was Lieb.

"No! I have nothing to talk to you!"

"Mary, please. You can divorce of him. I KNOW you don't love Bill. I still love you!" He begged.

"I think I should leave you talk alone." Luz said.

"Luz, stay here. Please."

"Luz, I'd appreciate you really leave us talk." Lieb asked.

"I'm into the saloon, Mary." He saluted Mary and returned to the reunion.

"Now we've lots of to talk each other." Joe Liebgott affirmed.

#band of brothers #joe liebgott #hbo war #band of brothers cast #joseph liebgott #bill guarnere #femalescharacters #female oc #kaya scodelario #ross mccall #george luz #chuck grant #ronald speirs

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softguarnere · 1 year

Note

hihi!!! i love your writing- i have been binging all your works over the past few days and can't wait to start on your oc fic :D

in the meantime, can i request a babe heffron hurt/comfort one-shot that ends with the reader and him falling asleep on each other's shoulders? thank you!

Inhale, Exhale

Babe Heffron x reader

A/N: Hi Anon! Awe, thanks so much 💕 I'm so glad you've enjoyed them, and I hope you'll enjoy lagalm as well! (And who knows? Maybe you can stick around for the Nixon x OFC fic that I'm about to start posting as well 🤭) Thank you so much for the request, and I hope you enjoy this! As always, this is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans! Warnings: mentions of war

Being inside again after so much time spent freezing in foxholes is a dramatic change of pace. The wooden pew of the church isn’t exactly a comfortable place to rest, but at least there’s a roof over your head, walls around you, candlelight, and more importantly, warmth.

Still, the old wood of the pew squeaks as you readjust your position on it, over and over again. You wince every time you hear the sound. Is it as loud to everyone else as it is to you? The chatter of men talking to each other in low voices is slowly starting to die down as more and more men turn their tired eyes to the group of women at the front of the church, letting their harmonies wash over them. Here and there, you can spot a few men leaning their heads on their hands, their eyelids drooping as sleep creeps in.

You un-wad the jacket you had been trying to use for a pillow and put it back on. If you can’t sleep on it, then it can at least keep you warm. Just because you can’t sleep doesn’t mean that everyone else has to stay up. You settle in, trying to find a position that’s comfortable and doesn’t make the creaking pew sing louder than the lullaby coming from the front of the church.

“Well, this doesn’t look comfortable at all.” The pew creaks as Babe plops down beside you. He surveys your position with furrowed brows. “You really gonna sleep like that, (Y/N)?”

Grunting, you push yourself back up so that you’re sitting. With new space available, Babe slides closer to you. “No. I don’t think I’ll sleep at all. I just didn’t want to bother anyone.”

“Only person you’re going to bother is yourself. Break your damn neck laying like that.”

“Not much else I can do,” you mutter. At least here you can stretch your legs. You didn’t get that luxury in Bastogne, all scrunched up in a foxhole almost every second of every day.

All around you, more and more men are dropping off. Only a few people are left sitting up, as most of them have leaned over, making beds out of the pews, or falling asleep slumped forward. Babe’s eyes rove over the scene, then flick to you.

“Aren’t you going to try to sleep?” he asks.

The thing is, you are tired. So, so tired. All you want to do is curl up under a warm blanket and let a blissful sleep overtake you. But it’s not just that you can’t get comfortable. It’s that you can’t fully relax here. You’ve been on alert so long that you aren’t sure you remember how to do that.

“I would if I could.” You shrug. “I don’t know. I might just keep watch.”

“I think the nuns have got that covered,” Babe notes, nodding toward a few of the nuns who stand scattered around the room, still as statues, watching over the sleeping men like silent protectors.

You sigh. Babe is right. So then why can’t you just go to sleep?

“Here.” Casually, Babe slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close to him. If he feels your posture go rigid with surprise, he has the decency not to point it out. The initial shock quickly wears off, and you allow yourself to relax against him, since that seems to be what he wants. “Let’s just take deep breaths,” he suggests.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know. Something my mom did for me when I couldn’t sleep as a kid. Just try to match my breathing.” Together, you take deep inhales, filling your lungs, and then exhale together. After a few cycles, you feel yourself relax ever so slightly. Your heart isn’t beating quite so fast, at least. You hadn’t even realized how elevated your heart rate was.

“Better?”

“Somewhat.”

“Good.”

“What now?”

Babe shrugs. “I don’t know. My mom used to tell me a story.”

“Well, then, tell me a story.”

He chuckles. “About what?”

You have to think for a minute. “You’re always talking about Philly. Tell me what it’s like there. Paint me a picture with words.”

“I don’t know about that last part, but I’ll try.” Babe clears his throat, suddenly a bit more serious, his voice soft as he starts describing the city that he loves. The way sunlight peaks through the fog on early mornings. The towering buildings. The friendly faces on the streets. Football games outside of his school. Watching the city begin to glow as dusk moves in, quickly followed by a night where the stars are all the lit-up windows twinkling everywhere you look.

At some point, your eyes flutter shut. You don’t bother to fight it. Part of you feels bad, though, because Babe sounds so happy describing his hometown, and you don’t want to miss any of it. You could stay like this forever, floating gently in the haze of oncoming sleep while vividly imagining the world he describes.

“Are you asleep?” Babe whispers.

You sigh, too far gone to answer. Part of you wants to tell him to keep going, but you can’t collect yourself enough to communicate. Instead, you feel your head drop over onto his shoulder. He’s warm. It feels nice, so you stay there.

“Goodnight,” you hear him whisper, and then, you drop off, safe with his arm around you and with his words to set the scene for beautiful dreams.

#babe heffron #babe heffron x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #my writing #hbo war fanfic #band of brothers

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 3 years

Text

Old Money, New World - Eugene Roe x OFC - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Summary: As Easy Company heads into Holland, Camille finds herself posted at a nearby hospital, which proves to be far more eventful than expected.

Warnings: Smoking, wound/blood description, language

Word Count: 4k

Tags: @honey-im-emotional

Please let me know if you're interested in being added to the tag list!

Eugene sat at their old familiar table in that old familiar pub in Aldbourne, a glass of beer in each hand as he watched Camille fail miserably at darts with some of the other boys. They were enjoying their leave prior to their return to mainland Europe, and she had only just caught up with the Company after hurrying off to visit Elaine and Ruth - the two young women she'd stayed with the first time they were in town.

Gene himself was rather hopeless at darts, he always had been, but upon confessing that she'd never played, Camille had been roped in by Buck and Luz, although all their efforts to teach her to throw had thus far failed. She let out another dismayed cry as her dart missed the board completely, and he laughed as she approached the table, hands covering her face in embarrassment.

"I don't know how they do it!" She confessed, sitting down opposite him with a huff. Her face was flushed bright pink, hair frizzed in the heat of the packed pub. For a moment Eugene froze.

She was beautiful.

This wasn't a new realisation. Hell, he'd been stuck thinking she was beautiful every time he'd seen her for over a year at this point. But every now and then, the light would be just right or she'd smile in a certain way, and the air would be sucked from his lungs with all the elation and adrenaline he'd felt in his very first practice jump.

He passed her a drink, having kept a close eye on her glass whilst she wasn't around. Gene trusted the boys in his company, but he also knew that large supplies of alcohol and men deprived of female attention didn't always go well together. He was just looking out for Camille. He always did.

She took a long sip, white foam lining the top of her lip and making him chuckle. "My re-entry into Europe's been postponed again," She said.

"Oh?" Eugene frowned, but really he was quite relieved. Keeping her off the front line wasn't exactly a bad thing in his mind, although he couldn't help feel guilty about it, as he knew it was where she most wanted to be.

Camille nodded. "Mhm. Found out this morning, Captain Nixon stopped by to let me know. I'm heading over to Holland the day after you, but they're sending me to do hospital work until you finish the upcoming Operation." She sounded slightly bitter. "Still, I suppose hospital work is better than the time they left me in Upottery for a week."

He shrugged, his frown sympathetic. "They know you're skilled, I suppose they just want to keep you safe where they can. From what you've told me, I think your uncle would be at Sink's throat if you got hit."

She supposed he was right. Although she'd never thought him fond of her, her uncle Charles had seemingly become quite attached to Camille in recent months. He'd never married, nor had children of his own, and she reckoned he must've taken pride in helping any of the Whitney family join the war effort, even if it was just the daughter of his estranged half-sister.

Eugene spoke up again. "Have you heard from your family lately?" He asked.

Camille shook her head. "Not since the letter I got from Arthur last month, but I think they were planning something big, so he and Julien are probably all tied up these days."

Gene asked about her family a lot, always making sure they were writing to her and that she was replying in due course. As far as he was concerned, she was the youngest of her siblings. Camille had never spoken of Peter to him, nor to anyone else. Her dead baby brother was something she kept entirely to herself, it was easier to live without him that way - if she created a world in which he'd never existed, she didn't have to miss him.

She inhaled sharply. "I suppose I should call it a night and go pack my stuff," Camille said, standing up from her seat, glass still in hand. She finished her beer - far too quickly if you asked Eugene - and put it back on the table. For a moment, he thought that she was going to leave without another word, but she stepped over to him, leaning down to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"You take care of yourself, Doc," Camille spoke softly, inches away from his face as she smiled, before straightening back up and walking away. Gene's cheeks were burning red, and he grinned to himself a moment before he noticed Babe Heffron wiggling his eyebrows at him from across the room and he cleared his throat roughly, awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact with any of the other boys as he finished off his drink.

Camille hadn't been so scared to let the men go without her this time - they'd seen themselves through D-Day, and whilst Operation Market Garden was a big deal, it didn't sound nearly as dangerous. She'd seen them pull through tougher scrapes than this, and she trusted them to get through this one as well.

Within a few days, she herself had arrived in Holland, driven by jeep through the city of Eindhoven. Easy Company must've only been a day or so ahead, as she'd received a letter from George that morning describing the parade they'd encountered, and the city streets were still littered with dutch flags and flowers.

There was comfort in her new position, she found. She was going to be set up at a relatively crude little army hospital, just a mile or two outside Nuenen. If any of the boys were to get seriously hurt upon entering the town, she'd be the one they came to - although frankly, she hoped she wouldn't have to see them if it could only be in dire circumstances.

The hospital turned out not to really be a hospital at all. Camille's brow furrowed as the jeep turned down a narrow lane, pulling to a stop outside a small farm. There was something of a courtyard in the middle, dry mud inlaid with tyre tracks and stacked with crates and boxes around the edges. On one side of the courtyard stood a little brick farmhouse, smoke piping from the chimney, and paint chipping slightly off the open shutters. Next to it was a stable, although the horses themselves had been moved out into the nearby field to make room for more storage. The 'hospital' itself was set up in a long barn, boards laid down on the ground, fresh sheets hung out to dry on the washing line outside. It wasn't exactly the sanitary refuge she'd envisioned, but there was something surprisingly charming about the place, and Camille supposed that must supply some comfort to the men who ended up here.

Upon arrival, she was supplied with her uniform - a light blue button-up dress with a red cross on the breast pocket. It was exactly the kind of uniform she'd always envisioned herself getting to wear in all those years at med school, but now that she was wearing it, it didn't quite feel like it fit.

Camille had worked into the evening - cleaning sheets, re-dressing wounds - and by the time it started to grow dark, she was grateful for a break.

She'd managed to build a rapport with one of the other nurses there by the name of Karoline - she was a few years older than Camille, with caramel skin and hair all pinned up in curlers, which she'd hurriedly put in upon finishing her shift for the night. The two women leant up against a stack of crates outside the barn as Karoline passed her a cigarette, lighting them both with a match before stomping it out with her heel.

"So," She spoke, breathing out a cloud of smoke. "You're a medic, huh? How'd you manage that?"

Camille shrugged, watching the end of her cigarette burn away. "My uncle pulled some strings with the Colonel."

"Ah. Nepotism." Karoline nodded. Upon noticing Camille's frown she chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm just kidding, doll. You seem a damn good doc, you've got talent."

A smile graced her face, but was quickly stifled as they were interrupted by terrible wailing noises from the end of the drive. Resting her cigarette between her lips, Camille hurried across the courtyard, eyes narrowed as she tried to watch down the unlit lane in the dark.

There was a figure approaching - barely more than a silhouette - wrapped in a coat several sizes too large and letting out choked, painful sobs.

"Careful, Whitney," Karoline warned.

She stepped slightly closer, and as the figure came into the light, Camille's eyes widened.

It was a woman, thin and pale, dried tear lines from where her mascara had run covering her face. She was clutching a little girl to her chest, wrapped up under her coat, and her scalp had been messily shaven, scabbed and bleeding through tufts of light hair.

Camille was frozen for a moment, but quickly broke into action, stomping out her cigarette and calling to Karoline. "Go get the doctor! We're gonna need to clean and dress her wounds."

The nurse hesitated for a moment, brow drawn in distress as she stepped closer to Camille, their faces only inches apart as she spoke in a hushed tone. "The doctor isn't letting these women into the hospital, Whitney."

"What? Why?"

"Those cuts on her head? They're punishment from the Dutch... she slept with a Nazi."

Camille paused. She hated the Nazis. She despised them without an ounce of compassion or sympathy. But the woman standing before her looked so frightened, in so much pain, and even if she was a sympathiser, the shivering toddler in her arms was most certainly an innocent.

"She's got a baby, Karoline," She whispered. "I'm not sending them away. If they can't go to the hospital we'll take them to the stable."

Karoline looked uncertain, but she agreed nonetheless, and hurried off towards the water pump.

Camille extended a hand to the woman. "Come with me," She smiled. "You speak English?"

The woman made to follow her, but shook her head weakly. "Geen Engels," She sniffed.

She nodded, guiding the pair into the stables, and gesturing for her to sit down atop one of the wooden supply crates. The little girl crawled out from inside her mother's coat, fiddling with her chubby little fingers. It was clear that the woman was exhausted, and Camille suspected she must've walked here all the way from Eindhoven.

Karoline returned minutes later with a bowl of water, and set it down as they both scrounged the supply crates for bandages and gauze. Camille's hand wrapped around a little green bottle of disinfectant and she smiled, pulling it out and turning back to the woman.

Her cuts were messy and uneven - some shallow grazes, some deep gauges where chunks of flesh had been lost. The little girl sat quiet and polite beside her, wispy blonde hair tied with ribbons in two short plaits, and wide blue eyes that seemed to shine even in the dim light of the stables. If Camille had to guess, she suspected that this child was probably a result of the woman's fraternization, as she couldn't be much more than two or three years old. Still, she was sweet, and both Camille and the child's mother couldn't help but smile at her gibberish babbling.

She dressed the cuts as best she could, but even once the woman's head was cleaned and bandaged, she couldn't help but feel that it was wrong to send her on her way. Of course, they couldn't offer her a bed, the doctor would surely find out, and that would end badly for all of them. Camille looked down at the woman's feet, her shoes threadbare and breaking at the soles.

"Here," She spoke. Crouching down, she began to unlace her nurse's shoes, a pair of practically unworn Oxfords. "Take these,"

The woman seemed to understand what she was offering, and began to shake her head.

"Please, take them." Camille insisted.

She smiled, teary-eyed as she put on the new shoes, which clearly provided relief to her sore feet. Karoline approached then, gently handing over some tinned peaches and a packet of biscuits. It wasn't much, but it was realistically all they could steal without anyone noticing. Besides, Camille still had her field boots with the uniform in her bag.

They'd snuck the woman and her daughter back down towards the road under the shadows of some nearby trees, and she had hugged them both, thanking them profusely in what little English she could muster, which was strained and accented on her tongue. Camille had gone to bed that night beaming, confident that, although she may not have realised it, this was the help she'd wanted to give her whole life.

It had taken longer than was probably reasonable for her to explain away her mysteriously vanishing nurse's shoes to the doctor the next morning, but he'd given up arguing with an irritated sigh when Karoline butted in with some wild story about them getting carried away by some farm animals in the night, which she swore was true, and had been exactly as strange as it sounded. The hospital was busier today, and she grew more anxious as the morning went on when she realised it was the day that Easy Company was set to enter Nuenen.

Unfortunately, she hadn't had to wait long before wounded men began to pile in, taking up every bed and bench they could spare. Camille darted about, administering help and trying to keep track of who exactly they had bleeding under the barn's thatched roof, when a familiar shout from outside shattered her focus.

"Doctor!" A Cajun accent yelled from the courtyard, and despite the chaos, she couldn't help but smile.

This smile, however, quickly subsided when a pair of men carried in Buck Compton, who was lying uncomfortably on his stomach atop a piece of wood, blood seeping through dressings on his ass.

"Aw, Buck, not you too," Camille teased, almost breathless as she hurried to gather bandages.

"Just carryin' on the Easy tradition," He grunted as he was positioned on a bed. "Good to see you, Doc,"

"Good to see you too, although I wish it was under circumstances where I didn't have to take your pants off,"

Buck laughed at this, wheezing a little from the pressure of lying on his chest. Eugene had come in too by now, and he sent Camille a brief, warm smile of greeting before they both got to work.

Within the hour, they'd patched Buck up nicely, and all that was left to do was wait for a transport to take him somewhere to rest and recuperate properly.

Gene finished washing his hands, sighing as he dried them on a nearby towel. "Well, I'd better be going."

Camille frowned. "What? No, stay for a little while, you need to rest too, I'll make coffee,"

He looked sad to leave, but he shook his head nonetheless. "I can't, Camille. I'm sorry. Randleman's MIA, I wanna be there when he gets back in case he's hurt."

Her breath caught for a moment. No one had told her Bull was missing, and she certainly hadn't missed Gene's pause, as if he'd almost said 'if he gets back'. Hell, if she could she'd have gone out looking for him herself, but someone needed to keep Buck company, and she was the last person to abandon her post.

"Alright," Camille nodded. "Alright, yeah, you should go. I'll see you in a couple days, ok?"

Eugene didn't say anything, but he pulled her close into a tight hug, squeezing her shoulders as his breath ruffled her hair slightly. She had no way of knowing what had happened in Nuenen, but she figured it must've been bad from the way he clung to her.

Once he'd left, she headed back inside, crossing the room towards Buck's bed and noting the untouched plate of food beside him.

"Not hungry?" Camille asked.

He shook his head, propping himself up on his elbows with a grunt. "Nah, I hate hospital food, won't touch the stuff."

She frowned slightly, taking a seat beside him. "Well I skipped lunch, so if you won't eat it, I will."

Camille picked up the plate, shovelling some of the beans into her mouth as Buck watched on. When her face began to contort, he let out a cackle, grinning at her distaste.

"Holy God, what is this?" She spoke through a full mouth, lips puckered in a disgusted grimace. "Even Malarkey cooks better than this,"

"I think you remember Malarkey's cooking better than I do," He smiled.

"Maybe so," Camille admitted, spitting the food into the bin when no one was looking.

It was quiet for a moment before Buck spoke. "I think it did Roe some good, seeing you today. He's been quiet lately."

"He's always quiet," She pointed out.

"True. But I mean real quiet. He gets like that when you ain't around, y'know."

Camille didn't quite know what to say to that. She supposed she'd always wondered what Eugene was like around the boys, but if anything she'd expected him to be less quiet. Still, she'd be dammed if she let Buck be privy to her feelings towards the medic, that would be way too much ammo for the other men to use, even if it was all in harmless fun.

"How'd the attack go?" She asked. She was changing the subject on purpose, and judging by Buck's face, he could tell.

"You're in love with him aren't you?" He asked, refusing to take her bait.

"Jesus, Buck, no! I am not in love with Eugene," Camille cried.

"You like him though,"

"I like him because he's my friend," She chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

"You're friends with Luz and me too, but you don't light up like a Christmas tree whenever we enter a room," Buck teased.

"Yeah, well, that's because you're fucking annoying," Camille said, grinning as he let out a laugh at that. Standing up, she made to clear away his disgusting dinner, when she paused.

"D'you think Bull will be ok?" She asked.

Buck shrugged, his expression clouded and somewhat bleak. "He's a tough son of a bitch. He'll pull through, I wouldn't worry too much."

She nodded slowly, considering his response, and then walked away.

A week had passed since then. Buck had gone away to rest up and heal, and Randleman had returned safe and sound, a fact which had certainly risen the men's spirits. Camille had rejoined Easy Company as soon as Compton had shipped out, and was now sat with Babe and Guarnere on the front steps of some village hall, which they'd all set up around in various billets.

She chuckled as Bill went on and on with his story about some incident from his childhood in Philadelphia, taking a sip from the bottle of beer they were sharing before passing it to Babe.

"Aw, no way!" Babe cried. "There's no way in hell you got away with that!"

"I'm tellin' ya, I'm tellin' ya," Bill stressed. "He had no idea I was ever even there,"

Heffron shook his head with a disbelieving scoff, looking to Camille. "Can you believe this crap?"

"Hey, I'm not judging," She laughed. "Gonorrhoea's tyre slashing days are none of my business,"

Bill let out an exasperated sigh at her use of his nickname, slapping his hands on his knees before snatching the beer from Babe's hand. He opened his mouth to protest, but his attention was caught by an approaching figure.

"Heya, Doc!" He chirped.

"Afternoon," Gene greeted with a small smile, strolling up to Camille and handing her a letter. "This just came for you,"

She took it with a grateful nod, frowning at the handwriting on the envelope. It was her mother's. Camille tore into it, eyes scanning over the eccentric scrawl as she processed the words put before her. Without a word, she leapt to her feet, hurrying off inside, evidently upset.

"You should go after her," Bill told Eugene, all three of the men watching her go with concerned frowns.

"Me?"

Heffron nodded in agreement. "C'mon Doc, everyone knows you're her favourite, even Luz has had to admit it."

Gene didn't quite know what to say to that, but with gentle eyes and cautious sympathy he went after her. Camille had scurried back up to her room, and was stood by the window, chewing on her lip as she read the letter over and over again. In the light breaching the thin curtains, he could see her eyes watering, threatening to spill.

He paused in the doorway, hoping not to interrupt or startle, but she noticed him anyway. She sniffed loudly, holding up the paper before letting her hand go limp and fall against her thigh.

"It's from my mother," Camille said, struggling to mask the distressed inflexion in her voice. "She's just going on and on about the taxidermy fox she keeps on the mantle, says it's lost an eye," She joked, but as she forced a chuckle, a tear rolled down her cheek.

He stepped into the room, frowning with concern. "You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah," Camille nodded.

Eugene reached out to touch her arm, fingers barely grazing her sleeve, but she could still feel the warmth of his palm. "Are you sure?"

She looked up at him, lip quivering slightly as she shook her head. "Julien sent her a letter... Albert's been shot."

He inhaled sharply, letting out a sympathetic sigh. "How's he holding up?"

Camille shrugged. "I dunno, I- Julien says he's been taken off to a proper hospital,"

"So he's getting proper care," Eugene assured her.

"Or it's really serious."

He was silent then. Of all his training, of all the countless men he'd had to comfort and help, why was it so hard for him to reassure her? They were still for what felt like an eternity, quiet hanging in the air like cobwebs in an abandoned cellar.

"C'mere," Eugene muttered, finally finding his ability to act. He pulled Camille into his chest, his cheek resting on her head, as he wasn't all that much taller than her. With one hand holding her back, he let the other rest in her hair, stroking it gently as she squeezed him tight.

They stood there for a while, and he could feel her heartbeat gradually slow against him as she calmed down. Camille had begun to fiddle slightly with the creases on the back of Eugene's shirt, making him smile.

"Thank you," She sniffed again, voice barely more than a whisper as they broke the hug. Some colour had returned to her cheeks, and her eyes were far less watery.

"Always," He smiled, hand still resting on her side. "D'you want me to go see what I can find out about your brother? I can try to track down which hospital he's in."

Camille nodded hurriedly. "Yeah. Thank you, Eugene,"

For a moment, she thought he would simply leave quietly, but he turned back at the last second, gently placing a kiss on her forehead. She wanted to beam then - she wanted to smile and hug him again and kiss him right back - but really she was far too upset to do much of anything. She reached up to touch the hand he'd placed to her cheek, brushing her thumb over the back of his palm, and then she let him go.

Camille let Eugene walk out, even when everything in her wanted to hold him again. Because she knew that he'd always walk back in again when she needed him. Always.

#old money new world #camille x eugene #eugene roe #eugene roe x oc #eugene roe x reader #band of brothers fic #band of brothers oc #band of brothers #hbo war fic #hbo war #buck compton #bill guarnere #babe heffron #oc: camille #fic | old money new world

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