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keoghans · 4 years

Text

Hey Chuck

Hello and welcome to this Chuck Grant fanfic. I always loved this dude, and I see little to no work about him, so, I took it upon myself to do fic about him. I invented a character, his love interest, because I cant write reader insert, I just, it bothers the fuck out of me to write like that lmao.

Special mentions for @notmykirk @liebthots @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @alphapockets for proofreading, giving ideas and helping a distressed, nervous writer lol, you lot were brilliant!

This is super angsty, but also filled with fluff and stupid cliches.

Pairing: Chuck Grant x OC

Warnings: angst, shitloads of angst. Mention of rape. Slight, non-explicit smut. Cursing.

Word Count: 12k (I know, IM SORRY)

Epilogue

Three knocks and an anxious wait.

The door was opened by the tall ginger that didn’t seem to ever age.

“Hannah Davis! What brings you here?” he exclaimed with a broad smile as he hugged her smaller frame.

“How are you, sir? You look great!” she replied and he furrowed his eyebrows at her answer.

“Hannah, the war is over, it has been for a while, I go by Richard, Rich, or Dick, please,” he said, as he let her in his house. He sounded the same, warm, emphatic, funny.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” she replied, checking out his living room. He lived in a beautiful, tall house, very homey. It had a fireplace on and a half finished drink on the nearby table.

“My wife went to visit her brother, a man that’s never approved of me, so I stayed back,” he explained, serving another drink for her.

“I remember when you first told me that he wasn’t fond of you and I wondered, how the hell does someone not like Dick Winters?” she replied and they both chuckled.

“Her parents like me, and so does she, so… it doesn’t really matter”.

Hannah didn’t marry post war, and it had been only a year, but most of Easy Company was already having children, marrying or at least dating.

She had her heart set on someone but she had lost all contact with him and the Army didn’t help her trying to get what she needed.

So, after an hour and a half of reminiscing about the war, about Austria and the Eagle’s Nest, Winters caught up to her.

“Hannah, with all due respect… I know this isn’t just a casual visit, or you would’ve brought Luz or someone else with you,” he started, trailing off for her to speak.

Hannah chuckled cynically, the man had always been prone to read people like a piece of paper. She struggled for a few seconds, her nerves coming back to her, scratching the back of her head absentmindedly.

“I’ve been trying to find someone… Someone from the Company, and I don’t want to ask the rest of the men because… Well, if this fails, I don’t want it to be gossip between them; and the Army couldn’t help me, they cannot give out information about former paratroopers,” she explained.

“I have all of the men’s information with me, so, who are you looking for? Though—some information can be outdated, I haven’t updated it in a couple of years,” Dick said, looking for an old black book that had ‘Easy’ embroidered in the front.

“Say the name.”

“Uh… Charles Grant—NCO Chuck Grant.”

Rick smiled softly, looking down as he looked for his name in his book.

“What?” she asked, slightly embarrassed. He knew.

“Nothing. Sergeant Grant is an exceptional man, I felt deeply for him when he got shot,” he explained and placed a ruler under his name, handing the notebook to Hannah.

“I know he is, that’s why I’m looking for him,” she said, looking down at his name, copying the information of his address and phone number.

Richard looked at her with his usual witty, warm smile.

“Thank you, Dick” she said, closing the notebook and giving it back.

“Like my wife would say, ‘go get him’.”

///

Hannah had Chuck’s address and phone for a month and a half.

Every time she thought about calling him, or showing up at his place, fear shook her body and threw her back to square one. She had taken a cab to her former Major in the Paratroopers for forty five minutes to find a man’s address and she couldn’t actually talk to him.

Hannah laid in her bed, after a long day at the hospital. She was eating leftover carrot cake she had made a week ago, feeling dreadful, looking at the little paper with Chuck’s name sitting on her bedside table, and remembered the many times they shared.

Bastogne was the coldest hell Hannah had ever experienced, and she knew it was never leaving her head after everything that transpired.

The trees exploded every now and again. As desperation settled inside each mind, everyone started wondering which was getting killed next.

Then the casualties came: Joe Toye and Guarnere lost each other one leg to mortars, Don Hoobler accidentally shot himself in the leg and the blood loss took his life. Muck and Penkala got blown to pieces by another mortar.

She had tried to save as many lives as possible as she had to shoot Germans from afar, fearing death every single second she moved around the snow covered forest.

She had short moments of peace, and most were laying in a foxhole, trying to gather some warmth, next to Chuck.

Her body shook as she blew into her hands, trying to gain back feeling on her fingertips when Charles looked at her and grabbed her hands without a word, covering them with his calloused fingers, scooting closer to her.

She was slightly taken aback.

Chuck wasn’t a man of many words, he communicated more with his eyes and small expressions. He politely smiled at her as he rubbed his hands against her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, nuzzling her chin deeper into her scarf that was tucked into her jumpsuit.

Chuck just looked at her and kept rubbing their hands together. She noticed her blue eyes looking bright from the full moon shining down the forest.

“I always hated the winter time, back in the states… and now more,” Chuck said, breaking the silence between them.��

“I know, I prefer to be burning under the sun rather than freezing my butt off.”

“Cold beers,” he added.

“The beach.”

“Dipping into a river or the sea.”

Both exchanged small smiles.

Chuck had always noticed Hannah, and stared silently at her many times, but barely exchanged a few words in the second year of their training, when she arrived in Toccoa. He knew she was Shifty’s friend, and someone who Winters relied on and trusted from what Powers had said to help her get into the Paratroopers.

And she had proved herself useful, not only as a doctor, but as a sharpshooter, taking down snipers that others didn’t notice at first. She used to compete with Shifty on how many Krauts took down each.

Hannah always knew who he was, she remembered every and each name of the company, by nicknames mostly. He definitely called for her attention; he was polite, shy, only mustered a few jokes here and there, not like Luz, who couldn’t speak without joking.

But she was never as interested in him until he helped her find warmth in a shattering cold in Belgium.

Hannah remembered that with a smile—their first and probably closest interaction. It only took snow, people dying around them and a whole war for it to happen.

Friday, she thought, Friday would be a good thing for me to approach his house if, luckily, he didn’t move out before.

///

Anxiety. Lots of.

Hannah wasn’t on call at the hospital on Friday. She and her best friend, scheduled everything.

Angelina made sure she couldn’t back out of looking for the former paratrooper. She had helped her pick an outfit, helped with her hair, the whole ordeal.

“Okay, go, go! It’s barely past noon, it’s a beautiful day, maybe y’all can go for a walk,” angelina said, taking a sip from her lemonade.

Hannah was barely talking, her hands shook, she felt her pits damp with sweat, with a tight knot in her stomach.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay… I’m going, whatever, what could go wrong, what the fuck, he could only think I’m a fucking stalker, whatever right? Fuck—.”

“Oh my god, get out, I’ll take care of Trigger, let him have a stroll, and if by any chance you spend the night there—” she said, with a wink— “call me so I’ll stay and give Trigger his morning walkies,” Angelina commanded as she pushed Hannah through the door.

“Good luck, honey!” She yelled as Hannah dragged her feet through the hot cement under the July sun.

Every little thing that could go wrong played in her mind as she walked. Grant lived roughly twenty blocks away from her but she still wanted to walk there, to make it as slow as possible.

Hannah checked the address in the small, torn piece of paper she had it written on and looked for 1612 for a bit, until she finally saw it.

It was a beautiful, tall white house, with a dark grey roof, a small porch with a couple of rocking chairs. A lot of small pots with flowers and different plants covered most of the front of the porch, which made Hannah think that there was clearly a woman living there.

That made fear struck her again.

He’s probably married, there are rocking chairs and plants… none of the men of the paratroopers cared about fucking plants, why would Charles be any different?

Fuck it.

Hannah shook her head, her curls moving along, stomped the ground after pondering for a couple of minutes, away from the house and took a few deep breaths before she walked up the three steps before the door and, with a shaky breath, knocked three times and took a step back, giving the door her back.

She could sense her muscles completely tense, everywhere, arms, legs, stomach, and wondered why the hell she never got her anxiety completely treated like her PTSD from the war.

What if a woman opened the door? I’d pretend I got the wrong house and run for the fucking hills.

“Yes?” a deep voice said from behind her.

Hannah could’ve swore her heart stopped for a split second.

She turned in her heel with the riddled feeling in her stomach when she met those bright blue eyes and the permanently tanned skin of Sergeant of Second Platoon, Charles Grant.

His usual disheveled look was intact, she noticed, the droopy eyes and the resting annoyed face that was his trademark was still there, but it did change in a moment when he realized quickly who she was. His eyes widened as his jaw dropped slightly.

“Hannah? Hannah Davis?!” he exclaimed, opening the door wider, taking a step forward shyly.

Hannah swore her heart was thumping against her chest like a hammer, and was actually afraid Chuck would notice it. But all he did was try to find the words, stuttering slightly as he took a look at her.

“Hey, Chuck,” she said, trying to find her voice back from somewhere in her throat.

Charles let a single chuckle out of his mouth before, sort of awkwardly, pulled her for a hug, crossing his left arm around her torso and the other one, around the shoulders.

Hannah was a hundred percent sure her heart could arrest at any moment and die right there. The man was hugging her. And she was hugging him back, the same way, when his perfume surrounded her and she closed her eyes for a moment, lingering her head above his shoulder, every single feeling she had ever felt for him rushing back into her stomach, untying the knot slightly, filling it with butterflies.

“What a surprise! Come on in,” he said, as they parted, moving aside so she could walk inside first.

Clean, super clean. The fact that the house was so clean yelled wife! in Hannah’s face. But she shook the thoughts aside, trying to focus on walking and trying not to bump into anything and make a mess of herself in front of Chuck.

“You like it? I’ve been trying to decorate myself but… I don’t know, looks shitty to me still,” he added, standing next to her as she looked at old signs of tobacco brands, and a couple of paintings up white walls, complemented with an olive couch with three seats, a coffee table and a TV in front.

And books, everywhere. Different sized, colored, some put in a small library in the corner, near the couch. Some were sprawled over on the coffee table and one on the couch, open and faced down.

She took the books as the cue to find out and get it over with.

“You and—and your wife must read a lot,” she said, sniggering internally as she awaited for an answer.

Chuck let out a hearty chuckle, looking suddenly a bit embarrassed at her.

“Uh, I’m not married,” he said, forming a thin-lipped, awkward smile on his lips. Hannah felt how her shoulders relaxed at the information.

“Oh—sorry, it’s just… It looks very homey, and you know, women do that work mostly,” she said, trying to sound innocent.

“I learned a bit from my mom, and I found out that I really enjoy gardening and plants in general, that’s why there’s that many on the outside porch. Luz told me I was becoming a woman, I said, ‘what’s wrong with being a woman’?” Chuck said, scratching the back of his neck.

“He fought side by side with one, and he still says that crap?” Hannah asked, remembering George Luz, the clown of the company. “Fuck him, I like how it looks, it’s homey and… looks warm, you know?”

Chuck nodded his head proudly, trying to shoot down a smile that tried to creep up, slightly blushing.

“Listen, I was roasting some chicken, are you hungry? I have beers, too,” he said, pulling her by her wrist softly. This touch sent electricity up Hannah’s arm as she nodded silently, following him.

She was sort of surprised by his cheerfulness. He was a very lowkey man, never spoke too loud, unless he wanted to mock one of his peers with Luz or Guarnere. He fumbled around the kitchen for a bit, before going through the back door to the backyard, where he had a barbecue against the wall.

And she could see him work, cutting up the chicken while it was still roasting, and noticed how he hadn’t put up any weight since coming back from the war, or losing any from the anxiety and PTSD. He had kept in form, his arms still big, as his shoulders, the black sleeves of the shirt sticking tight against them.

Jesus, stop that!

Lost in her thoughts, looking around the kitchen, she didn’t notice Chuck was back with two small sandwiches in hand, leaving them on a couple of plates as he quickly moved to grab two Crystals.

“My brother taught me this amazing sauce, and it’s like pulled pork, but pulled chicken,” he explained, almost proudly of his handiwork. Hannah smiled and took a bite on it.

Instantly, she had to suppress a moan that was about to fall out of her full mouth, as she widened her eyes at him. He smiled as he chewed and nodded his head like saying I know, right?

After downing her bite with a bit of beer, Hannah finally breathed out to compliment his food, making Chuck blush again.

“So, uh… what brings you here? Did you need anything?” Chuck asked, taking a sip of his beer again.

I wanted to confess that I had feelings for you since you helped me warm up in a foxhole in Bagstone and you saved my ass when I got shot and you dragged me into a jeep to be taken away for a bit to heal, and I always wanted to kiss you for that but I’m such a fucking wuss, I never even dared to flirt.

“Oh, no, no, I didn’t come to ask any favors, no,” she replied, chuckling nervously, “I—I’m gonna be honest with you; when we came back from Europe, I knew you had to do some recovery from the shot you took, that would need rehabilitation and… I was dealing with so much I couldn’t stay and I felt like shit for a long while for that—Shit, this sounds like I’m doing this to sleep better at night but no, I just want to say: I’m sorry, I should’ve been there like you were when I lost my ear to a kraut bullet, Chuck, I’m really sorry, and I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing…”

It wasn’t a complete lie, Hannah knew that, but she still felt like what she needed to actually say was heavy in her chest.

Chuck smiled, and turned his head slightly, pulling his hair up a bit.

“The scar goes all the way to the back of my head, I—I should’ve died by the extent of my wound, but, it was mostly sup—superficial. My left arm is partially paralyzed,” he explained, lifting both arms at the same time but the left one was left behind as the right kept going up. “And sometimes it’s hard to s—” he closed his eyes as he struggled to say the word, his tongue frozen in the roof of his mouth for a couple of seconds— “speak, like, right now.”

Hannah looked sorry, like a dog with a tail between its hind legs, feeling ashamed.

“Don’t feel bad, I had my family and some of the men to help me, and very good doctors too, really, it’s not like you had to take care of me, you know,” Chuck added, grinning warmly at her. “George, Doc Roe and Speirs came almost daily to help, I was set; speaking of wounds, how’s the ear?”

Hannah moved her hair away to show him the scarred and dusty pink skin that reattached to her head after it got blown off in the Battle of the Bulge.

Bullets and mortars were falling down the territory Easy Company covered. As much as anyone avoids talking about fear, they were all terrorized; the lack of winter gear, clothes, ammo, and food kept them all weak.

Hannah and Chuck were shooting non-stop, both with shaky breaths as they were still covered under a wool blanket, where only the gun and their eyes could be seen.

“Hannah! Hannah, go help Shifty!” she heard Lip call her as he ran past. She sighed, not wanting to be any closer to the flying gunshots that were showering horizontally on them.

“Go, it’s okay, go!” Chuck exclaimed, looking at her swiftly as he kept shooting.

Hannah groaned in annoyance but still climbed up the hole.

Chuck watched at her go, though her walk got cut short. She froze in her place and he knew something was wrong, and in a split second, she was on the cold ground, yelling her lungs out.

“Shit, shit, shit, hold on, Hannah! Medic!! Medic!!” he yelled as he let his rifle in the hole, crawling to check on the brunette.

As soon as he turned her body around, his face grimaced in shock. She had blood flowing from her side into her cheek, eyes and mouth, as she gasped for a breath, steam coming from her mouth from the sheering cold.

He moved her hair slowly, uncovering what was left of her ear, hanging from skin threads, almost completely shredded from her skull. It was an awful view, and the crimson liquid kept flowing and flowing.

“What is it? Let me see, Grant, move!” Eugene Roe exclaimed, pushing the other soldier aside, checking the wound thoroughly. Hannah had stopped yelling, shock had settled in her body, covering her from the pain.

“It’s superficial, but you will need someone to cut off the rest. Help me get her to the jeep, Grant,” he said after covering the hole with sulfate and a white bandage that went across her face.

“Hannah, you’re going to be just fine, stay with us, come on!” Eugene yelled as Chuck lifted her from her back and legs, her face falling into his shoulder, bleeding on his jacket.

Chuck glanced at her every few moments as he ran to where her ride was stationed, she looked paler by the second that passed, her eyes were closing and he had to keep calling at her to stay awake.

“Hannah, come on, come on, stay with me, stay with me!”

When she was finally strapped down the bed on the front of the sheet, he held her hand for a second before she was pulled away, disappearing into the woods as he had to ran back to his foxhole and keep defending their territory.

But he kept wondering and wondering about her, until she came back two days after.

“You came back almost good as new, ear-less, stitched up,” Chuck said, reminiscing.

“And I had to tolerate thousands of ear related jokes for weeks, and got called ‘Earnnah’ too” Hannah said, making them both laugh.

“Fucking Luz and his nicknames,” Charles said, shrugging.

“Anyways, I still don’t have an ear, but the flu I was going through had clogged my eardrum and saved me from being deaf on one side, right?” Hannah added, lifting her beer bottle to cheer for that.

“To the flu, baby!” he said and both drank.

A couple of hours went by and both Chuck and Hannah were already feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence. They laughed about some anecdotes, and updated on their current lifestyles.

“So, a tobacco store?” Hannah said, standing under the sun in the backyard, enjoying the warmth of a summer afternoon, much more relaxed.

“Yeah, it was my post war dream, and I finally gathered what I needed to open it, it’s in downtown, 5th ave and Charleston. It’s cosy, small, but good enough to sell small things,” Chuck explained, clearly proud of his achievement. “You should come by sometime”.

“I would, but I quit smoking a few weeks ago,” Hannah replied and Chuck looked surprised.

“Really?” he asked, propping himself against a column he had set to sustain a small roof he had put up in his yard.

“Yeah, but I’ll probably hit withdrawal soon and I’ll go back to square one quickly,” she replied, mocking herself and her power of will, making Chuck laugh.

“You still sing?” Chuck asked, and she knew exactly why he asked. “I still remember when we found that piano in the Eagle’s Nest, and you sang a few songs to us,” he said and a very small grin creeped up his lips, looking down at his hands.

That was one of Hannah’s proudest moments.

“I do remember that, and I still sing, yeah.”

The war had lightened up, somehow.

Easy Company was on the works to clear the way into the old Nazi Town of Kehlsteinhaus, where they knew, at the top of the mountain, resides the crown jewel of the Nazi Party. A very glamorous house made only for Hitler and his closests friends.

Winters dictated for the Easy Company to head straight to the Eagle’s Nest, after raiding the town and finding a place to settle for a bit.

Hannah heard Speirs yelling the orders and they didn’t even think for a second before they started running up the mountain road towards the House. She ran next to Chuck, Popeye and Malarkey.

They entered the premises slowly, looking around for Krauts, their guns up in arms. And all of them were surprised by the size of the place from the inside.

It had grey walls, with bay windows every few meters, the sun shining through, illuminating the whole place. There were a few tables with a few chairs each, some silver plates and vases scattered around the living room, a fireplace, and on the far end, a grand, black and shiny piano.

Hannah was immediately drawn to it, forgetting about the men popping bottles of champagne they found lying around, remembering instantly the songs her grandfather had once taught her when she was younger.

The boys weren’t paying attention until they heard the first few notes Hannah pressed on.

“Davis, you can play?” Spiers asked her as they got closer.

I waited till I saw the sun, don’t know why I didn’t come

Hannah started singing, as a way to reply Speirs.

Chuck was certainly taken aback by her singing voice, she had never mentioned before she could do that, that she had even learned or anything she did apart from training for the paratroopers and hang with Shifty.

When I saw the break of day

I wished that I could fly away

Instead of kneeling in the sand

Catching teardrops in my hand

Her fingers seemed to be dancing around the keys like she had been doing that for a lifetime, as her voice shone through the notes she played. There was a sudden peace brought by the song, which no one could remember having heard before that moment.

Chuck sensed his body relaxing, as he looked at the brunette who met his eyes not too long after.

My heart is drenched in wine

But you'll be on my mind

Forever

For a fleeting moment, Chuck felt no one was there but him and Hannah, as she kept singing, his breath catching in his chest, leaving him breathless. He knew he had been looking at Hannah with different eyes for a while, but he never actually realized it completely until that moment.

Something has to make you run

I don't know why I didn't come

I feel as empty as a drum

I don't know why I didn't come

“From then on, you guys would ask me to sing every time we found a piano laying somewhere in the abandoned cottages,” Hannah remembered, smiling at the memory.

“Well, you do have a beautiful voice that puts everyone at ease, you know,” he complimented and Hannah could feel how her pulse accelerated at his compliment, cursing herself internally for being so weak for her former NCO.

“It's mid-afternoon, care for a tea?” Charles asked, when he noticed her blushing, not answering his compliment, knowing he had hit somewhere inside her with it.

“I can make a quick cake with anything you have in your kitchen, if you want to…” Hannah said, almost rushedly, trying to cover her tracks. Yeah, that doesn’t sound weird at all, Hannah, you fucking wuss, offering to bake a cake after a couple of hours chatting and trying to cover your stupid feelings, sure, yeah.

“Kitchen’s all yours,” Chuck said with a grin, looking for his kettle to boil water while Hannah looked for her ingredients for a classic vanilla cake.

As Hannah whisked the ingredients, Chuck served two mugs with boiling tea, placing one next to her as he watched her focused in his kitchen.

“I swear, most men of the company don’t have all this stuff laying in their kitchen,” she said, still looking down at the mix.

“I’m not most men,” Chuck replied and both chuckled at his comment. “Oh, look here,” he said suddenly, making Hannah turn around.

A black cat with a small bell in his neck walked in, stretching its legs, and walked up to Chuck, placing its front paws in the dirty blonde legs.

“This is Roe, I got him a few months ago, he walked in with a broken hind leg and never left this house,” Chuck explained, taking the cat into his arms, which made him start purring loudly. Hannah proceeded to pet him, sliding her fingertips slowly in the soft fur of the head.

“He’s so handsome!”

“Thank you,” replied Charles, earning a small slap in his arm by Hannah, who chuckled as she kept petting the kitty.

“You saying you took care of this kitty reminded me of that nun who changed my bandages in Foye, in that church, remember that? She came straight to me, wondering how a woman is in the Forces, and silently, pulled my face and cleaned me up,” Hannah said, remembering the face of the woman in the black typical suit of a nun.

“She didn’t treat anyone but you, which was either great or very selfish of her,” Chuck said, jokingly.

“She was in a convent, they take care of women mostly, and I am one, so…” she trailed off, wanting to slap the grin out of his face as she felt her heart melting to the view of Chuck, holding a cat between his arms like a child. My uterus is flipping about. “It’s not like no one took care of you boys.”

“What are you talking about?” Chuck wondered.

“Holland. All those women, and food, and drinks, and praising,” Hannah said as she put the mix in the oven. She could hear Charles laughing at her comments.

“I wasn’t doing anything there, I did accept food though.”

“Oh, Chuck, come on, I saw you with that blonde that was taller than you, kissing you non-stop,” Hannah exclaimed, way too quickly for her comfort, and turned around, pretending to check on the oven temperature; Could you be any more obvious, Hannah, dear?

“You sound jealous,” Chuck replied, with a smirk and furrowed eyebrows.

“I—okay, yes, I was; everyone was treating you all like goddamn heroes and whatnot, while I got questionable looks and fingers pointing at me for being a woman in a uniform… Hell, they must have thought I was the squad’s whore or something,” she defended herself, trying to not blow her cover that easy in front of his intense eyes looking at her from a few meters.

Chuck felt bad for a moment. He knew she was proud of being the first woman fighting alongside men in a war, knowing she had earned the respect of many, many people, but there was still a long way to go to be accepted by the population in general.

“Yeah, I wanted someone to kiss me too and give me drinks, I deserved that too, I didn’t have any physical contact with anyone as much as y’all in that time,” Hannah kept going, the anxiousness to cover herself up from showing feelings almost drowning her.

“I’m sure you would’ve gotten a kiss if you just asked,” replied Chuck, taking a sip from his tea while still holding Roe. “I would have if you asked me.”

Did my heart just stop? Did it just… really stop? Quick, don’t linger in silence too much!

“You’ve always been such a gentleman, Grant, but that was impossible. First, we were in the Forces together and that was very forbidden. Second, I couldn’t ask people for that, that’s just sad and I didn’t look like any of the women there, my hair wasn’t done, I was wearing our uniform and probably didn’t smell the best there,” Hannah clarified, trying to not sound too rushed again.

“Okay, yeah, partially true, but you don’t need to be all fixed up to be pretty, though.”

He knows and now he wants to play soccer with my fucking heart. Goodness, I hope he doesn’t know.

“To be honest, it’s not like I came back to the states and started dating and whatnot… I did adopt a dog, his name is Trigger, like the one Tab had back in the day,” Hannah said, trying to clear herself. “Oh, and Tab asked me out like a year ago,” she suddenly remembered.

“Floyd?! R—really?” Chuck asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, he showed up once, with flowers and everything. It was so sweet but Tab is like my little brother, so I let him down slowly and luckily, he accepted it and we’re still friends,” she explained, remembering how disappointed he looked for a second before she explained herself to him and he took it with humour and saved their friendship from awkwardness.

All the while, Chuck laughed heartily.

“What? Oh, don’t laugh at him! He’s so sweet, he was always nice with me, even when most doubted the presence of a woman at war, come on,” Hannah defended Talbert, throwing a paper towel ball straight to his face.

“Hey! No need to get violent!” Chuck retaliated, throwing it back at her. “I can’t believe little ol’ Tab asked you out,” he added, chuckling.

“You’re all always making fun of people who ask me out or flirt with me,” Hannah added, a sneer creeping up her lips. “Remember that one British soldier?”

The Company had saved a hundred and forty brit soldiers, without any casualties. Everyone walked back to camp cheerfully but in silence until they entered the barn.

Hannah didn’t feel as cheerful as the rest. She had been carrying a small infection under her tongue for a few days and cramps were attacking her every now and again, which she didn’t share with anyone trying to avoid some sexist comment about the nature of women.

Booze was being passed around the brits and the company as everyone cheered and applauded for their exceptional work. Hannah did enjoy seeing all the grins and wide smiles spread around, while she stood in the side, leaning against a thin wooden column, rubbing her back to ease the pain.

“Moose Heyliger and the American 101st have done the Red Devils a great service, making it possible for us to return and fight the enemy another day,” the captain of the British soldiers exclaimed to the crowd of paratroopers and the Red Devils. “To Easy Company, victory, and Currahee!”

Everyone cheered, drinking profusely, laughing and all around happy, until the same captain interrupted them for a second.

“Oh, and let us not forget to cheer for one more thing: the first woman in the Forces who was part of this mission, Miss…”

Hannah wasn’t paying attention, she was completely zoned out on the side, until she heard her name being called a few times. She looked up to the Captain, who had his drink up and looking at her.

“Oh—Oh, Hannah, Hannah Davis!” she replied, a little startled.

“To Hannah Davis!” The cheers erupted once again, but everyone was now looking at Hannah, who blushed furiously at the attention she was receiving. She just gave them all a tight lipped smile, her eyes drifting from one side to another.

“So, congratulations are in order, ma’am.” A thick British accent interrupted Hannah’s thoughts a while after she had been cheered on. She turned around to find a tall man with a buzz cut, his red beret and a pointy nose. And a very warm smile.

“Thank you, private…?”

“Joe Seaward, and it’s Sergeant now,” he clarified, taking his beret off as he took a drink. “How is the Force treating you? Good, I hope?”

“Very good, sir, they feel like family already. At first it was weird for them, but I was vouched for by the Battalion chief, and one of the men, who is an old friend from his hometown,” she replied, feeling slightly intimidated by the brit.

“I’m glad you’re feeling comfortable. And hometown! Where would that be, if I may ask?”

“Atlanta, Georgia. Can I ask you where are you from?” she asked, looking up at him. Hannah could feel the eyes of Easy on them, but she didn’t dare to look back at them.

“Birmingham, born and raised,” Joe replied, looking proud. “Uh, anyone expecting you back home?” he suddenly asked, and Hannah understood what he was referring to.

“No, apart from family, no one special,” she replied, and just got interrupted by another voice yelling at them.

“Sergeant Seaward! We’re leaving, come on!” Joe looked annoyed all of a sudden.

“Well, ma’am, if this isn’t too forward, when this war is over, and luckily, we’re both still alive and well, why don’t you stay in England for a while and… maybe we can go to dinner together?” He said, rushing as he took a few steps back.

Hannah thought for a second and, feeling like she had nothing to lose and after not being flirted by anyone in two years, she replied “Sure, Sergeant, if we both survive…”.

Joe smirked deeply and quickly found a paper and a battered small pencil, scribbling in it and placed it in her hands, before kissing the back of it.

“You’ll find me with that. Take care, Hannah Davis! Cheerio!”

Hannah felt like a child meeting her first crush, blushing, with a dumb smile in her face, until she heard the sniggering paratroopers behind her.

“What?” she asked, already looking annoyed at them as she turned to find them in a half circle around her.

“What was that ‘bout, Davis?” Bull asked with one lifted eyebrow.

“Nothing–”

“Not nothing, that brit was flirting with you!” Liebgott exclaimed, his lip curled as his eyes darted between the door of the barn and her.

“The fuck is the problem with that?” Hannah asked.

“No fraternization with soldiers in the Forces,” Chuck added, looking down at his hands.

“Oh, fuck all of you. It’s the first time someone comes and tells me I’m pretty in two years, when y’all had women throwing themselves at you back at Eindhoven!” Hannah defended herself, shutting them all up. “It’s not like I’m actually going to do something about it, I might be dead tomorrow anyways”.

“He looks stupid and he’s a brit, we’re all a better catch than him!” Martin added, inflating his chest.

“The only decent man here is Doc Roe, and you all know that for a fact. I’m going to sleep for a bit, goodnight” she said, walking away from them, breaking the half circle without looking back.

“I still have that small, battered piece of paper with me, but I never went to see him,” Hannah added, smirking at the thought. “I should’ve stayed in England and find him, honestly”.

Chuck frowned, “why? Was he really that interesting?”.

“He was sweet, he had a very attractive accent and hell, how many men do you know that say ‘cheerio!’ When saying goodbye?” Hannah defended Sergeant Seaward.

“Oh, stop talking talking about him already” Chuck said, dismissing her comments with a frown.

“Who’s jealous now, huh?” Hannah joked, pushing him slightly. Chuck just laughed bitterly.

///

Chuck showed her around the house, apologizing for forgetting to do a tour when she first came in.

He showed him some old pictures he had from high school that his mom had taken of him, some of his own family, and even a photo from a high school girlfriend he still had. Charles told him they were still in contact because her family was close to his, until he went to the war and she moved out of the usual address.

“It’s like the time I was away, fighting, home became a black hole in my memory, like…It couldn’t possibly exist at the same time I was away.”

Hannah enjoyed learning more from his past, and suddenly wondered if he had ever known what happened and how Easy reacted when they found out he had gotten shot.

Charles was looking down at a picture when she popped the question.

“Chuck, did you uh—did anyone ever tell you what happened with Easy when you… When that replacement shot you?”

He suddenly took a seat on the couch, looking up at her. There was something on his eyes that she couldn’t decipher, but it was between fear and curiosity; his fingers went to linger over his scar absentmindedly.

“No, I—the guys never told me anything, and I didn’t dare to ask, honestly.”

“Do you, uh… Do you want to know?” Hannah asked. Chuck nodded, his lips seeming sewn shut. She took a seat next to him, the air suddenly completely filled with tension.

“Well, you had patrol and we were relaxing in the house, playing cards, some asleep, most smoking and chatting about the end of the war. Also about the points, but, that’s not important.”

“Then, the door of the living room burst open with a pale, very pale and shook Tab. ‘Grant got shot in the head’ was the first thing he muttered. You know, there wasn’t any music around us, but it seemed like it had stopped. The relaxing atmosphere was cut off like when the lights go out with a switch.” Chuck was staring at her, his attention fully on her.

“But we didn’t have that much time to like… process. Floyd had received orders to find the shooter, and we practically went around the whole town and the ones nearby looking for him. We had the order to bring him alive but neither wanted to lose the chance to put a bullet in him. We were organized in groups, and we divided in three or four people each.”

“We ended up finding him still in Zell Am See. Malarkey found him with Bull and Lieb, they found him trying—” She took a pause, her stomach turning slightly at the memory— “trying to rape an Austrian girl. She was saved, thankfully, and he was brought back to the house where he took the beating of his lifetime”

By that point, Chuck jaw was opened, but his eyes seemed calmer, somehow.

“Did you beat him too?” he asked. Hannah suddenly broke eye contact, looking down at her fingernails fidgeting together.

“Yes, but I only punched him, the rest did the real beating… I was so angry when I found out he was in the house, I burst through the door and went straight with my knuckles to his jaw. I had my hand bruised for weeks. You were away at that point, Speirs and Roe had found a Kraut brain surgeon and got him to work in you as soon as they could. But we didn’t know if you were alive or not. After the rest took their turn with the replacement, Speirs had come back, saying the surgeon confirmed you were going to be okay; then they dragged the son of a bitch over to the MP’s.”

Hannah felt ashamed, her body seemed to be burning when the memories of that moment revived in her.

“I was so scared you were gonna die, Chuck… I wasn’t there when Speirs confirmed you were going to be okay, and I just—I lost it at that moment,” she added, a knot forming in her throat. “Lieb found me, while I was sitting in a room upstairs, on a bed, in the dark, cursing and crying. It wasn’t only you that made me cry, but… I cared about you, you know. You were my friend, we went through the worst together and I thought I had lost y—,” Hannah’s voice broke, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

“Hey, hey, Hannah, I’m here, aren’t I?” Chuck said, scooting closer, placing a hand on her knee and another rubbing her back. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that…”

At that, Hannah snorted while she teared up.

“What are you apologizing for? For getting shot? Jesus, Charles, you didn’t ask for it, did you?” she joked through the tears and broken voice, making both laugh cynically. Hannah lifted her head and looked at him, and noticed how his eyes were watery. He sniffed as he tried to recompose himself, his hands never leaving the brunette.

“No, I know, but… I’m okay, you s—see? I just speak like I’m dumb or something now,” he joked.

Suddenly, something took over Hannah and she hugged him, with her arms surrounding his shoulders completely. Chuck was taken aback at first, but he then wrapped his arms around her waist and stayed there for a moment, neither muttered a word, only sniffs and breathing could be heard.

Hannah laughs, then smiles down at the picture of a younger Chuck. Some things change, and some things stay the same forever. Chuck is one of those things that never changes.

After a while, after a hug that helped both recompose and even sort of heal wounds that can’t be seen, they went back to rummage through old photos.

“Oh, look at this one,” Chuck said, pulling a picture from his teenage years, where he was in just his underwear, surrounded by kids holding different pieces of clothing cheerfully “that was in the middle of summer, we were trying to fight the heat with water balloons and I got so soaked, my brother and my friends convinced me to take them off so they could dry. Me, being stupid and young, did so and they stole them and ran away.”

Hannah laughed loudly, looking at Charles with apologetic eyes.

“How could you be so naive?” She asked, between laughs.

“Hey, if I remember correctly, you got your clothes stolen once, in Haguenau! And you know it sucks, doesn’t it?” Chuck replied, jabbing his index on Hannah’s arm.

Hannah had survived Bastogne, with the scarring of her life and one less ear. Everyone was changed, they had lost many men there, including Toye and Guarnere, Muck and Penkala, and lost Buck to shellshock.

These days passed with nothing much to do but waiting for orders, some training, and finally, after the snow had passed, winter clothes.

Second Platoon was stationed in a tall, two-story house, with many rooms, filled with beds and some tables. It was battered, most wallpapers looked torn, and the smell of humidity and gunpowder filling everyone’s nostrils.

On a cold morning, Hannah came back to the second floor, where Malarkey was introducing the new Lieutenant Jones to the men.

“Sir?” her voice, smaller than ever, turned everyone around. Some had to take a second look to be sure what they were looking at.

“What happened to you?!” Don exclaimed, his jaw dropped.

Hannah was shirtless. She was holding herself trying to keep the warmth of her body, with only a bra, pants and boots on. She looked red in the face, from the shame. Hannah could sense the eyes on her body, taking notice of every single scar she was sporting, and the bandage that was covering one on the side of her hip.

“I was changing bandages, I turned for a second to get the sulfate and I heard someone running and laughing. I thought there were just some men playing around but they had taken my clothes, sir…” she explained. Everyone could hear the anger in her voice, her jaw clenching tight.

“Jesus fuck,” Malarkey muttered, while Chuck proceeded to pull the sweater he used under his jacket and quickly helped Hannah put it on. “Lieb, MccLung, Jackson, go find the fuckers who did this, report to Speirs”.

“I’m sorry, Malark, I—I didn’t want to make any trouble, really, I—,”

“No, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, okay? Here, it probably smells but it’s better than nothing, I’ll have someone find some clothes if they don’t find yours,” Malarkey said, giving her his scarf, and went back to speak with Lt. Jones, who only nodded to her as a salute.

“Come on, we made some coffee,” said Chuck, pulling her to where the kettle was in a corner. “Are you okay?”.

“Yeah,” was all she said, hiding herself in her copper mug, drinking the awful coffee they have been given. Then Chuck did something that she wasn’t expecting, but calmed her nerves quite quickly: his palm met the top of her head, and ran down her hair slowly.

Hannah had seen the men do that to each other, when they had panic attacks or after the death of a fellow soldier, they would hold their heads or run their fingers through their hair. It seemed like a paternal way to hold them close and not let them fall into the abyss of desperation war brings in people.

And now she felt it herself. Chuck’s fingers brought peace into her body, into her mind. She closed her eyes he kept going, enjoying that as well as the steam from the coffee meeting her cold skin.

///

Not too long after, and from a window, Hannah and Chuck saw MccLung and Lieb dragging two soldiers from their jackets to Speirs and Winters. Joe talked furiously, clearly explaining what the two men did.

Hannah chuckled cynically, knowing Speirs would have them doing the worst jobs for the Platoon.

Her happiness didn’t last long, though. After getting new clothes, returning Chuck’s sweater, she found out, alongside the rest, that they had a patrol to get to at one past midnight.

Everyone dreaded it, mostly because Second Platoon had lost the most people since Bastogne, and they still wanted them to do a senseless mission. They were ordered to cross the river into German territory and take prisoners to get intel.

They still had hours to kill before heading to enemy territory, so Hannah decided to find some place to nap, after fixing and cleaning her guns and getting more ammo.

She wandered around Second Platoon’s house until she found a room on the second floor. She opened the door, walking inside, and instantly found a sleeping body on top of the bed.

“What? What?!” it said startled and looked up. Hannah didn’t notice at first but as soon as some light shone through the bullet holes on the wooden panels in the window, she saw Grant’s face.

“Oh, sorry Chuck, I was looking for some place to sleep, I’ll leave you to—,”

“No, no, it’s fine… we can share,” he said from the dark, she could hear his hand patting the bed.

Hannah thought for a second. She was exhausted, her body was still cold and there probably wasn’t a better bed in the whole house to nap in.

So, she closed the door behind her and left her jacket and rifle on the floor, and climbed under the wool blanket.

Under it, she was met instantly with Chuck’s warmth, her side wasn’t cold, as she expected it to be. There was calm, so much calm it was a bit unsettling for Hannah; last time she felt it, mortars fell from the sky and took her friends with the blast.

But there was something about the gentleness of Chuck’s breathing that helped her, which she couldn’t explain, but silently thanked him for it.

A few minutes passed when Hannah turned to her side, facing Chuck, who was already positioned on his side. She was unable to fall fully asleep, which was normal when someone tries to relax during a war.

Hannah just stayed there in silence, eyes closed, her hand dropped on the mattress near her face, when she felt Chuck’s hand a few inches from hers.

For a moment, she wanted to grab it.

Hannah had noticed for a while that she was closer with Chuck than with the rest of the men. It was an odd friendship; it’s not like they talked for hours and hours on end but mostly in silence or with hushed, short conversations. But when she was with him, she didn’t feel as much fear as with the rest or alone in a foxhole.

But he had always been there for her, like she was for him. Through every loss, through every problem. There was an implicit deep trust between them that neither acknowledged with words, but with simple actions.

And to her, he was certainly an attractive man; with dirty blonde hair, an inviting smile, always polite and shy. And Hannah knew she had felt sometimes a bit of a butterfly in her stomach when he smiled at her.

Suddenly, her thoughts were hushed when she felt his fingers wrap around hers.

Hannah didn’t open her eyes, afraid they would show how much speed her blood pressure gained in a split second. But she did reciprocate, after a moment, moving her hand so his fingers intertwined with hers.

Neither moved, neither spoke nor opened their eyes. And finally, both fell asleep until Liebgott woke them up a couple of hours later.

He opened the door loudly, letting in some light. Both Hannah and Chuck sat up quickly, startled and disheveled, looking at Joe like he was crazy.

Joe looked at both with a deep, playful smirk before saying, “We have the meeting at CP in ten minutes, let’s go, come on.”

Thankfully, Joe didn’t notice that Hannah and Chuck were still holding hands under the sheet; but when they caught it, as Lieb left, they quickly unwrapped them and rushed to get their things, without saying another word to each other.

///

Night came around nicely.

Both Hannah and Chuck were enjoying their time. Hannah had clearly relaxed, mostly after they had talked about what happened to the NCO, feeling like she had let go of a heavy weight she carried on her shoulders.

Charles offered for her to stay for dinner when the brunette said she still had to walk her dog, even though she knew Angelina had probably done that already. He insisted, saying the leftovers taste even better reheated on the grill.

Hannah laughed and agreed to stay, as long as she could help with it. Her day has been better than expected, way better. But she still had that small pebble in her shoe about her feelings towards Chuck. A part of her yelled that she should come clean to him, and be done with it, no matter the result. The other part also yelled that his friendship was more valuable than risking it for something more.

But the tiny voice in her head still insisted with No, no! He doesn’t feel that way. He hasn’t flirted with you, or showed some clear sign of attraction, Hannah! Have dinner and pretend it’s all good.

“Hey, can I ask you something? This might sound a bit weird,” Hannah said, with a sneaky smile while Chuck revamped the grill. The former NCO just nodded in response. “Why aren’t you married?”

Chuck snorted, looking surprised and slightly offended. “Aren’t you the one that used to complain that women are always pressured to get married, and maybe they shouldn’t if they don't want to?” He asked, almost complaining.

Hannah laughed and put her hands up in her defense.

“I don’t mean it like that, Charles Grant! I just… I’m surprised a man like you, who does all this, isn’t at least dating someone,” she clarified.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t dating someone,” he replied, without looking at her.

There it is! So, that’s what it's like to get your heart punched, huh?

“Oh, yeah, I mean—Of course, sorry–,” Hannah added, suddenly stumbling upon her words as she felt her hands shake slightly.

Chuck snorted again, this time a hearty laugh escaping his lips.

“I’m not Hannah, I’m not seeing anybody at the moment,” he added, smiling as he moved the charcoal around the grill.

Hannah had a rush of anger suddenly, wanting to throw something at him and yell you fucking asshole, I’m in love with you, do not do that to me!!!

But she held herself in, looking rather unphased, and just nodded disapprovingly.

“I, well… I haven’t met the right woman, you know? I’ve seen some people, yeah. Babe set me up once with this redhead who could’ve been Malarkey’s sister for all I knew and it was going good at first but… Fuck, I was so bored!” he said, showing the annoyance in his face at the memory. “She was nice and all, but she was just… so fucking boring. She talked about her hair and stuff she does with her lady friends and she hated when I told stories about the war.”

Now it was Hannah’s turn to laugh. “She hated it? Why?”.

“Who the fuck knows, maybe it was too g—ory for her, or she didn’t want to hear that one of the men was being called ‘Gonorrhea’. Hell, she didn’t even want to hear how I got the scar in my head or rather, the explanation of my slurring when I speak and my lack of strength on my left side,” Chuck said and sounded rather offended.

“Someone has to either appreciate your scar and the sequels, or get the fuck out of your way,” Hannah said, approaching him with a beer in hand. “Don’t ever feel ashamed for that, Chuck, I’m not ashamed of having one ear, honestly. I think it’s pretty nice. Who can say that is different when their bodies are complete and in perfect state?”.

“It’s boring, isn’t it?” he added.

“You and me, Chuck, are different. And that’s good. Toye and Guarnere have one less leg each, they’re fucking awesome too.”

Hannah’s heart leaped at the sight of Chuck looking suddenly proud of himself, and when he looked at her to clink their bottles, she could’ve sworn that, if she had the ovaries, she would’ve kissed him right there and then.

///

After dinner and a few more laughs, Hannah called it a night.

Her heart felt slightly heavy for not having dared to confess what she was there to do in the first place.

“Well, my dear Grant, I have to head home,” she said, as she put plates down the water in sink.

“Already?” Chuck replied, looking surprised.

“It’s almost ten in the night!” she exclaimed, drying her hands on a towel that hung from the oven door handle.

“Want me to call you a cab? Lieb is probably still around working with his.”

“No, don’t worry, I’ll walk. It’s fine,” Hannah replied, and started walking towards the door with Chuck on tow.

Both stood on the porch, looking around the calm neighborhood. Hannah was feeling so ashamed of herself, slapping herself mentally every second that passed.

“Well, Hannah, this was a great surprise,” Chuck started, breaking her thoughts for a moment, “we should do this more often, maybe with the guys, sometime, before winter leaves us secluded in our homes.”

“Of course, but let’s not wait two years this time,” she replied, with a smile creeping up her lips, looking at him. God, how can someone dare be this good looking?

Chuck proceeded to hug her like when he opened the door past noon, when she showed up at his doorstep. Hannah reciprocated, and drowned herself once again in his cologne, not wanting to let go or stop feeling his hands around her body.

“See ya, Davis,” Chuck said as she walked down the steps and she took one last look at him before heading home.

You fucking wuss, you fucking wuss, you fucking wuss, you fucking, pathetic w—

“Hannah! Wait!”

Chuck’s voice startled her as she was reaching the crossroad, when she turned around to find him running towards her.

Her heart raced, wondering why the hell was he yelling at her for. Maybe she had forgotten something. Yeah, that’s all, I might have forgotten my… keys?

“Hannah, wait, I… I have to tell you something and this can’t wait…” Chuck started as soon as he caught up to her. “Listen, this might sound weird but… a while ago I—you appeared in a dream of mine. You were talking to me after I got shot and you were begging me to not forget you.”

“Hannah, I took it upon myself to find you but I was meeting only dead ends, the Army wouldn’t help me so I had to… fuck, I had to find Winters and ask him for your information. God, that was embarrassing, but you know Winters, he didn’t hesitate to help. I had your address and phone numbers for months, but I never had the guts to go knock on your door… I thought you might have forgotten me, but… I never forgot about you,”

“I never forgot how we shared a foxhole during our hardest time. I never forgot how we slept in that bed and held hands in the dark. I never forgot how you took care of me when I had that one panic attack in Bastogne, and everything else,”

“What I mean, Hannah, is… I love you. I can’t date other women because they’re not you, and all I want is you. So… please, don’t leave. Not now. I couldn’t believe my eyes when you showed up at my door, fuck, I thought I was dreaming or dead. You had found me and I—,”

Before Chuck could follow through with his speech, Hannah took him by the face and kissed him.

It was bruising, it was desperate and filled with love. Chuck wrapped his arms around her body, bringing her impossibly close to his body as her fingers found his hair.

The anticipation was their favorite feeling. They both sensed how long they waited for that to happen, so they sank deeper into it.

It went on for a few minutes, the night time seemed to have stopped for both, like everything had disappeared except for them.

After they parted, both panting, their foreheads connected, Hannah opened her eyes and found Chuck’s cheeks stained with tear trails and that explained the salty taste in his lips. That made her smile widely as she still held his hand between hers.

“Can you—do you want to s–spend the night with me?” Chuck asked, opening his eyes finally.

Hannah just smiled widely, pecking his lips as she pulled him by the wrist towards his house.

///

Making love to someone you have craved for years makes the hours longer.

Both Hannah and Chuck were sure of that while the latter moaned loudly as Hannah rode him; his hands were bruising against her hips as she moved, holding herself in his shoulders, kissing him every now and again.

Hannah never thought she would see Chuck like this. With sweat rolling down his forehead, his lips swollen and his eyes squeezed shut; to see his naked torso and his chest heaving up and down, which was covered in different scars that only made him even better looking in her opinion.

The man was almost ethereal in the dim light of his bedroom.

She enjoyed every bit of him as much as she could, like that could’ve been a fleeting figment of her imagination that she had to hold tight between her fingers before it could slip away.

But reality brought her back when she felt the pain of his fingers digging into her hips. Hannah didn’t mind one bit.

She just loved to see how overwhelmed with pleasure he was, how he propped himself into his elbows, wrapping a hand around her bottom to carry both into the bed frame so he could sit and find her lips with his as he rode into his climax.

Of course, Chuck being the gentleman he was, caring, he helped Hannah ride into hers, enjoying how she cried out his name loudly like it was the best song he had ever heard.

///

Chuck’s fingers ran down Hannah’s bare shoulders, enjoying the dampness. It was soft, it was warm and it also a tad bit freckled. His fingertips followed down her arm until they met her face, that laid upon the back of her hands as she laid in her stomach.

Her eyes were closed but she was still awake. Hannah was just soaking on everything that happened through the day, and now, through the night, as the clock ticked into two in the morning.

Chuck sat parallel to her, and his fingertips went all the way back to walk down her shoulder blades, into the deep line of her spine, meeting a few moles spread out here and there, which sent very slight tickles to the brunette.

“I kind of can’t believe this just happened” he muttered, turning to lay his head on the small of her back. He could feel the vibration of the small laugh she let go at his comment.

“Me neither, Chuck… but I, uh… I have a confession, which I think will make you laugh,” Hannah replied.

“Do go on…” he replied.

“You told me you looked for my information with Winters, right?” Hannah asked.

“Right”.

“Well, when I looked for you too… I did the same,” she said and felt his head suddenly turn to her at her words, “and when I said your name, he gave me a weird look, but now I know it was a ‘I know something important about this that you don’t know’ look”.

“So, wait, we l—ooked for each other in the past few months, and we did exactly the same shit?” he said, struggling slightly.

Hannah heard the clicker of the lighter and looked back at him, lightning a cigarette with a shit eating grin sprawled upon his lips.

“Exactly what I’m saying,” she replied, laying her head back down.

“Another reason why I would like to marry you, then,” he added, like it was nothing.

What he didn’t notice was the speed in which Hannah’s eyes widened and her heart started thumping inside her rib cage.

“I’m sorry?!” she asked, sounding a tad bit anxious. Chuck was never one to say rushed things like that.

“The first reason is how powerful and relentless you were and still clearly are. You know how I know that?” he asked, and she could feel his smile still in his lips.

“No, how?”

“When you confronted Sobel before we went to Holland. Of course, I didn’t know at the moment the amount of feelings I had for you, but… I think I did have some of them roaming inside me,” Chuck said, like he was the one who stood up to Herbert Sobel, “but that was just plain hot,” he finalized, and turned to look at her; Hannah was just looking at him like he was crazy.

The night before, everyone was cheering for their job. They were done, they were bound to the States and all the Easy Company wanted to do was drink and laugh.

For everyone’s demise, Lipton announced how they were heading back into war, to Holland, killing the mood instantly.

As the replacements were getting helped and guided by Bull, rather than Cobb, who could only brag about stuff he never ever did; Chuck was packing her stuff near Malarkey, Bill and Hannah.

“I swear I thought by this time I was gonna be home, with a hundred in my pocket, flowers for my mama and nearing Christmas with my nieces and nephews” Malarkey said, fixing his bayonet. The rest scoffed, still bitter by the news.

“I miss the coffee from hometown, there’s this beautiful place in Hamstown Square, it’s very small and cozy, and the pastries are the most delicious I’ve ever had” Hannah said, looking like she was talking about the love of her life.

“Guys, look!” Bull said, interrupting them, pointing to their right.

On a jeep, carrying some stuff behind it, sat Herbert Sobel, their former CO, the nightmare that trained them back in Toccoa. Hannah knew she didn’t train with him as much as the rest, but a year with that man was more than enough.

“Fuck, no…” Hannah whispered so just the boys around her heard her “No, not him”.

“Don’t—Pretend he’s not here,” Malarkey said to her, tying the loose ends of her parachute to her shoulders as Skip came to them scowling like the rest. “Y’all too, do not look at him”.

Neither obliged, all of them stared at the man passing by.

“The hell is he doing here?” Skip wondered, without getting an answer.

Sobel walked in a straight line near the men as the truck behind his jeep unloaded, looking between the men with his usual air of superiority untouched.

Unlucky for Hannah, he had met her eyes not too long after, and the man approached her, before the rest could make themselves scarce.

“Still alive, uh… Davis?” Sobel asked, scowling at the brunette.

“Pretty much, sir. Still teaching at that school… somewhere?” she answered, provoking a few small gasps around her. Sobel scowl just deepened.

“Do not disrespect me with that tone, private” the taller man threatened, his jaw clenching tight.

“Earn the respect, like you once taught us, and I won’t,” Hannah replied, her tone dripping with bitterness and irony. She felt a hand in her shoulder and knew one of the men was probably trying to calm her down. “You came here and act surprised that I’m still alive? No, I deserve more than that, sir”.

“You shut your mouth right now, private! This—this is the reason why women shouldn’t be allowed in the army; they’re too emotional!” Sobel exclaimed, almost yelling to get attention, which only made Hannah even more furious.

“If you were in our command, if you were our leader, we would all be dead right now. Don’t you remember that drill we did back in England? Why do you think you were ‘promoted’? And no, I’m not scared of you, go write me up if you want to; Winters is south of the camp, third tent on the right. Colonel Sink is in the next tent to his, the fourth one,” Hannah felt like she couldn’t stop, her anger overcoming her; mountains of words and feelings that were accumulating, finally leaving her chest.

Chuck couldn’t believe the words that came out of her.

Everyone awaited without breathing for an answer, a yell from Sobel, something. But nothing came, he just scowled, breathed hard, and before anyone took a breath again, he turned around tight in his heel and left to the back of the truck.

Hannah took a breath and turned around to finish prepping, when she found many of her fellow paratroopers smiling at her, some nodding in approval even. Johnny Martin crossed by her side, squeezing her arm, as he whispered a small “good one” for her.

“I fucking hate him, that felt really good”, she said to Chuck, turning to adjust his jumpsuit.

Chuck just stared at her, feeling hard to believe what just went through. Their former NCO was just bashed in front of everyone, and no one, not even one paratrooper came in his defense.

His eyes roamed through her face as she fixed his suit and talked about something he wasn’t paying attention to. Suddenly, he was looking at her in a different way, one that would grow over time during the war.

///

The night caught up to Chuck and Hannah, both deep asleep on his bed. The brunette laid her head in his shoulder, on her side, while he was laid in his back, with his cheek against her forehead.

Though around dawn, Chuck’s body started to shook. It came softly at first, just a few twitches, until it became a whole storm inside him.

Hannah stirred up and saw how every muscle in his arms and chest were clenched, and he muttering something she couldn’t comprehend. Clearly, he was having a nightmares. The nightmares that seemed to never end, which felt like a punishment that everyone had to endure post war.

The brunette placed her hands around his head as she whispered, “Chuck, Chuck, it’s okay, it’s just a dream, wake up, love, wake up.”

His eyes shot open, looking terrified as he gasped for air, his hands fumbling to find her.

“Hannah, Hannah!” He exclaimed, as he finally met her eyes. His body was shaking until he realized she was there, looking down at him, with a tired, disheveled smile.

“It’s okay, love, I’m here, I’m here,” she replied, running her fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek before looking down at him again.

The first light of the sun shining through the white curtains, illuminating both with such warmth it made Hannah’s heart swell.

“I’m sorry, I’m s—sorry, Hannah, this still happens…” he explains, his hand tight on her side.

But Hannah just smiles sweetly at him, “it still happens to me too, Chuck, it’s okay, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” she explains, admiring his deep blue eyes.

“Can you… can you sing to me?” He asked, sounding almost embarrassed to ask for it.

The touch of your lips upon my face

Your lips that are cool and sweet

Such tenderness lies in their soft caress

My heart forgets to beat

The touch of your hands upon my head

The love in your eyes, ashine

And now at last, the moment divine

The touch of your lips, the love in your eyes

The touch of your lips on mine

Chuck closed his eyes as her singing filled his ears. He haven’t felt peace like at that moment, not since the war. Hugging his mother, playing cards with his brothers or the men from the Company brought joy, but peace; peace came from Hannah, wearing his shirt, at dawn, singing to him.

And it was the same for Hannah.

Both knew the nightmares will continue to haunt them, and that their lives will go on, but at least, they were going to go through it together.

And that was more than enough for them. ///

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers imagine #chuck grant imagine #chuck grant x oc #chuck grant fanfic #charles grant #charles e grant #fanfiction #hbo war #war fanfic #my work #joseph liebgott #richard winters #nolan hemmings #eugene jackson #eugene roe #dailyreblogs

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ephrampettaline · 5 years

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[ chatzy with @alessafalling, @ephrampettaline, @mayaparker, @rydenbolt, @scarlettxruby, and @thatwhichbindsus ]

A sunken grocery store. Somebody’s first time, another person’s trip back to the town. Six bloods spilled and six bloods combined.

The air had been strange lately, cool and damp like standing by the coal had been. The earth, unforgiving and unwelcoming. Roots weren’t growing, new leaves weren’t budding. There was a corruption slowly settling in like an oil slick over the lake, and Ciara had no idea whether it was that a ley nearby had been drained, or if something more deadly was setting in, or if someone had just cursed her with a sense of malaise. The two gitturns that she’d adopted were settled in the little pouch she’d bought them, so she could keep an eye on them and they could be exposed to the world a little. The vet had said to be careful with them, but that they could cope with this now. Their fur was thickening out and three days ago the white one had opened its eyes. So she took them to the grocery store with her, filled up her trolley with fresh meats for them and fresh veg for her.

Ciara had almost forgotten her ill ease as she idly pet the dark one, when the fluorescent lights of the store went out. Ciara looked up, and saw only dark blue, and looked around as the shelves dissipated into wrought iron stalls, and the bright plastic wrappers of foods vanished, leaving only old, emptied cans. The light was weak and flickering, and the floor creaked and swayed.

Swayed?

There was a layer of water on the floor, slimy and thick, and the floor wasn’t on the ground at all. In fact, there was no ground at all, none for miles. Ciara stepped out of the abandoned, torn up grocery store, and looked up. Up. Up. Glass for a ceiling, with cracks. Above it, at first she thought was the night sky, until a shadow passed overhead, large, long, with a strong tail. A whale. Ciara looked to the side and there were windows there too, and beyond them kelp growing in all directions, illuminated by the light of a dozen underwater skyscrapers. In the windows, she could see shadows moving.

Maya wasn't having a great time. Sleep had pretty well escaped her for the last few nights. Between the mysterious warning that she hadn't quite managed to scrub out of her skin and the couple of things she was already trying to stay on top of, she felt the stress weighting heavily on her shoulders. But she still had to go about her day. Today found her in the grocery store, buying her things for the week. A few more comfort foods than usual were in her cart. She stopped in the middle of the aisle as something strange started to happen. "What the fuck?" Maya asked herself as a layer of water soaked the floor and her shoes. She looked around to see that was not the only thing that had changed. "Is this what you meant by they're coming?" she shouted to no one in particular, "Because I think you could've been a bit more specific."

“Maya?” Ciara called as she spun, reaching into some new, empty ley she could just about feel. Just in case it wasn’t Maya. “Who’s coming?” The little gitturns tittered and trembled against her hand, and Ciara pulled their pouch closer, just in case. Just in case. She was already breathing a little faster, this canned air that didn’t move or didn’t cycle, just creaked. She spotted the other witch with some small relief. Someone to survive this new hell with. Which was good. Someone was coming from a distant tunnel, their feet splashing in water puddles, and their giggles echoing off iron walls. “Can you fight? If we have to?”

Maya turned as she heard someone call her name. "They," she called back, "Because apparently being fucking specific isn't cool anymore." She saw Ciara just after the other witch saw her. Despite not knowing Ciara well, Maya breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't completely alone. She nodded, "Yeah, I can fight." After a pause she added, "Course I was sort of hoping I wouldn't have to on my trip to the grocery store."

Ephram had been ranging around the town nonstop since the rat king at the decrepit bakery, and then the octo-beast at the dilapidated bowling alley. He found that after having encountered Essie's dust and so much of the mold in the course of duty, and then those two ugly versions of Soapberry places, he could feel his magic itching through him to lead him towards new pocket-worlds that were opening. So the grocery had been his new destination -- but even expecting something bizarre to happen didn't prepare him for being suddenly in an underwater abanadoned supermarket. The familiar voices, at least, were something that held constant. "I'm here too," Ephram called, hefting the golf bag he'd replenished after the bowling alley incident. "Is it only you two so far?" he asked Ciara and Maya, trotting up to stop next to them.

“Did you get a message about th- oh, the mould?” Ciara guessed, although she truly had no idea. “Likewise, but I guess we can’t trust this town at all. Hopefully we just have to find a way out... of here.” It was creaking again. Had Ciara mentioned she hated the creaking? “Ephram? There’s a ley here, you should connect to it,” she said, slipping into a teacher role where she hadn’t for Maya. “Just us. But someone’s coming.”

Ruby had been at the other end of the shopping center - having just finished up taking the statements of a naga couple that had just come from some mad max death race pocket, but seemed to be mostly alright now - and was headed into the store to grab something for lunch when things started to change. At first she thought she was imagining it. The doors slid shut behind her with their usual hissing sound, and she moved to grab a small basket when it cracked beneath her grip, dryrotted. Which was unusual considering the layer of water beneath her boots. She huffed a sharp breath through her nose, spinning around to face the glass doors of the store as the air suddenly became... less. It was tighter, more metallic. And the saltwater ooze of everything else made her cover her nose. "What the fuck..."

The Splicer giggled. “I can heaaaar you. Little rats digging through scraps, but they’re all gone, all gone now!” His sing song voice echoed in the large chambers, although he hardly had enough sentience left to consider himself a he. “You’ll make a fine roast and I can smell the good stuff on you. It’s mine, you hear me? MINE! Ohohoh Im going to be sooo happy when I find you!”

Ephram shook his head when Ciara mentioned a ley line. "From what I seen of these black mold creepy places, I don't reckon I'd wanna try connecting to anythang here," he said, looking around and stepping a little closer to a shelf at the thought of all the water pressure outside of the market. "Do youn's have your magic? Mine works okay. Works fair good against them beasties that seem to be lurking--" He stopped talking when The Splicer's voice started up, echoing even more unsettlingly because of the water surrounding them, and set the golf bag down between them. "By the way? I got weapons."

Maya nodded, "Yeah, I did. Sorry, I got a bit...distracted by some other stuff." She turned again as someone else approached. Her shoulders tensed, ready for a fight if it came to that. She relaxed a little when she realized it was only Ephram. She nodded in agreement with Ciara. "Yeah, just the three of us..." she was about to add so far when two voices interrupted. The first was one she recognized. Ruby. she thought. The second was decidedly foreign. "Yeah, um my dude I am super not delicious. Meat's way too tough on this one," she shouted, fully knowing that it would help whoever that was find them.

What was it with these fucking underwater scenarios?? If Ruby was afraid of one real-world thing, it was being trapped underwater and drowning. The voice that came next raised the hair on the back of Ruby's neck. A low growl rolled in her chest. She didn't know the others were there yet, so she didn't know the message was meant for all of them. It temporarily pushed fear of the water from her head. "You might rethink that once you do." She said of being found.

Though the slight tremor in her voice said otherwise.

”Ooh, a player!” The splicer replied, spinning to the sound of Ruby’s voice, sprinting in her direction with a loose limbed ferocity. The hunt was on, and the splicer was so, so hungry. Everyone walking around here was an empty husk, but not her, not her! “Lay down your bets because you’re going to be mineeee!” He spotted her, pale and dark haired and pretty as a picture, and oh, he was going to fix that.

Essie knew the feeling as soon as she landed in one of these other pocket worlds. Her third one she hunkers down for a moment. Voices down a tunnel to her right, and one echoing over everything. Not wanting to be alone she hopes with all her might the people down to her right were people she knew, or at the very least friendly. She runs down the tunnel and finds a crowd of people, almost running right into the back of Maya. Her hands reaching out to steady herself. Eyes shifting over the crowd she spotted Ephram and his golf bag. What a life she lead that a golf bag was what comforted her the most.

Ephram spotted Essie and jerked his golf bag in her direction. "You still got your rifle?" he asked hopefully. "I mean I brought a couple this time but you should really start jes ... wearin' your rifle around town. God knows I'm strapped all the time now my own self." Hip holsters, shoulder holster, and the baseball bat he favoured.

"Wait," Maya said to Ephram, "You got another gun. I got my safety training when I was fifteen." She could hear the creature sprinting after someone else trapped in the grocery store. And she was pretty sure it was Ruby. Even now though she wasn't stupid enough to go after it emptyhanded.

The voice came again, and there was movement to accompany it. Ruby turned to see ... something... sprinting all long limbs and manic speed towards her. She knew better than to run. She /wouldn't/ run. Even if she had no idea what would happen if it caught her. But Ruby had her pistol, and the katana Dani had given her (that she'd also started carrying since all this shit started going down). There was no way she was risking a stray bullet with all this glass. Heart beating out of her chest, she pulled the sword from it's charmed sheath across her back - made to look smaller than it was - and when the creature was close enough, she let the blade arch towards it, spinning to the side as she aimed for something vital.

Ephram hauled one of the rifles out of his bag and handed it to Maya, passing her a fanny pack of ammo along with it. "Sorry bout the thing," he said, gesturing at the Glee fanny pack. "Was all I had handy when I was kitting out this here golf bag."

“Suit yourself,” Ciara replied to Ephram with a shrug, although in the back of her mind, she thought that she could have used a battery. “Why do you have weapons? Did you come to the grocery store for a fight?” The white gitturn then decided to jump out of its pouch, and scrabbled up Ciara’s sleeve to her neck with a strength she didn’t know these babies had, and snarled at the hall before burying itself in her hair. And then there were four of them. “Wait, no guns. Do you want to drown?”

Essie nodded digging in the pocket of the golf bag she remembered the ammunition being in. "Had to start carrying it after my second trip into these places." she admits. "Not that I had any ammo, just hoped the sight would distract something. Relying much more on dust." Her head bouncing up to look at the unfamiliar woman in the group then at Ephram, much more likely to listen to her boss than anyone else.

Maya took the gun from Ephram and the fanny pack too. It took her a second to even realize what he was even apologizing for. "Honestly, like, whatever. Ammo's ammo." With that, she ignored the subtle loyalty dynamics and headed towards the sound of the creature and possible a sword. She skidded to a halt at the end of the aisle and raised the weapon, ready to fire.

Ephram gave Ciara a considering look when she objected to the guns. "Reckon the survival situation at the moment calls for whatever weapons we got handy," he said coolly, all traces of his more obedient student persona gone. "Don't worry. I'm sure them other two are good shots." The implication, of course, being that there was no chance at /all/ that Ephram himself might cause a stray bullet to shatter the glass. He looked in the direction that Maya had headed off. "Was she tryin' to call that talkin' beast down on somebody just now?"

The Splicer: She wasn’t scared. How charming, it would leave her all tender inside nice and gooey and juices and precoated in salt and sass already. What a treat! The splicer charged without abandon, swing a wrench he had found in his best friend’s head (or maybe he had left it there, he was oh so forgetful, wasn’t it charming?). And then she sliced right through his arm, and it flopped on the floor for a second, up and down, like a fish gasping for air. “That wasn’t very nice, play fair and die already!” He sang, and leapt again.

As the creature popped back up, Maya fired. It was an easy shot, all things considered. Only after she fired though did Ciara's words fully sink in. /Did they want to drown?" They were underwater. She made a mental note of that so that she would be careful with any shots she made next.

Essie considers their surroundings and the fact she can't swim. She didn't trust her shot as much as the other two did, watching Maya charge recklessly away from the pack she reconsiders. She doesn't discard the rifle, simply swings it behind her onto her back. Dust had been here only hope the last time, so she figured why mess with it. She'd figured out exactly how useful her limited Glamour could be. The shot from down the tunnel had Essie turn and brace herself.

Oh, Ruby was scared all right. Terrified. But she wasn't about to get eaten by some fucking monster movie reject. So when the sword met heavy, wet flesh, followed by the spray of dark, thick blood and an equally wet, fleshy flopping sound, Ruby knew she'd made a hit. When the gunshot rang out as the creature righted itself, Ruby flinched, not expecting it. She spun, momentarily distracted, to see Maya standing there with a gun. "No fucking bullets!! We'll drown!" she yelled. But that was all she could say before the creature was screeching at her again and launching itself in the air. It was fast. And close. Ruby swung again, but she misjudged the distance and was sent sprawling through water, blood-soaked mess on the floor. She shoved a hand against the creatures' throat while the other scrabbled for the sword that had slid somewhere into the dark. "Fuck... off!" she grunted, giving up on the sword and swinging at the creature's jaw.

Ciara didn’t even raise an eyebrow as Maya and Essie deferred to Ephram, because he was he sherif and authority and all that and whatever, but she did at Ephram, sinking back into a cool, cruel persona that had served her all too well on a different battlefield. The gitturn by her ear tittered, staring at Ephram too. But then Maya was off, chasing a shadow, a half being at this point, barely a man at all. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent, starved of sunlight here and ashy, so much his skin almost had a blue tinge to it. It bled, but it had no heartbeat, not one that one could survive on. Maybe she’d just leave it to the sherif, but a gun fired and Ciara didn’t doubt that Maya was a better shot than Ciara herself, except it echoed like a bullwhip, all the way up and down the tunnels and this hallowed hall. And when everything finished ringing, there were more voices. Giggles and yells and cries and screams. A figure appeared at the bottom of the hall. Ciara tore its throat out.

Magic, good or bad sort, worked within a certain spectrum of rules. Crazy, mostly unfair, seemingly unpredictable and somewhat bendable but still rules you could single out, analyze and utilize the way you see fit or the way whatever personal limits allow you to. There are very few exceptions to that. But once in a lifetime, there comes an agonizingly stubborn knucklehead whose persistence to butt into things he had no business, knowledge or brains enough to deal with that rules just take one good, scrutinizing glance at him and say fuck it, we give up. Give him a complimentary bag of peanuts and a one-way ticket to doomed as fuck then send him on his way, cause that's where he's headin' and there's no stopping him.

Ryden's one way ticket had been for a month-long surf-around through places a less magically equipped supernatural should not step into. Well, the time-space parallel dimensions spin-dry he's been through told him it's been a couple of hours, not a month. He'll figure it out by piles of dust piled on top of old piles of dust he never cleaned on his floor in Rein's house. Right now, it felt like a couple of hours of beating through a beehive of abominations too ugly to love even if you were their momma. He was dragging one behind him by one of it's seven legs, two of which he'd pulled out himself, when the terrifying, toasty hell-like mood of the pocket universe he last rolled through turned into something Aquaman might call his secret, creepy hideout where he sometimes jacks off. "Fuck me runnin'..." He muttered, letting go of the creature he'd savagely murdered for threatening to do even worse things to him, and rounder a corner, not even trying to get the gooey, slimy liquid those things had instead of blood off himself. He was already drenched with it beyond spitting on your thumb and rubbing it off. By the commotion he was hearing ahead, he was pretty sure more nasty things awaited him.

Not even registering what it was assaulting nor what it was exactly, Ryden approached the creature ahead of him, while it was unaware in its attempts to feed on very possibly someone who'd been thrust in here by chance just like he was. A large hand grabbed at its bald scull, digging into brittle bone and ash-grey skin. He picked it up easily and tossed it aside like a rag, off Ruby and a good few feet away from the group..

The Splicer laughed and laughed and laughed and he scrabbled for her, scratching her, gouging her, trying to bite her. He - It - writhed against her hand, struggling, squirming, too keen and too hungry to care as the life was squeezing out of him. But then something tore through him, hot and cold as liquid nitrogen. He fell, turned, faced the girl that had shot at him. “Ooooh eeh heee her. I likes you! You’re a cheater! Dirty filthy little cheater! You’re going to pay for it, that’s right, but-“ and then he died, because Maya was indeed a good shot.

Maya heard the giggling down the hallway. "Okay, no guns," she finally agreed. She picked up the nearest thing off the shelf, a can of beans and got ready to throw it. Luckily, it seemed to slump over less than a second before Ryden appeared and tossed it aside like a rag doll. She had to grin at him "Ryden," she said in little more than an exhale. She turned to the others, "I think we've got more company. Sorry about that."

Ephram returned Ciara's look for a moment, his own eyes narrowing slightly before he gave a terse nod and drew his revolvers. She pulled the throat out from one of the new throng of creatures between one breath and the other, and Ephram banged together the bases of his revolver grips, silver-green magic spiking through them into the barrels. He stayed with Ciara and her gitturn -- the little creature still watching him suspiciously from behind her hair -- and shot at the emerging creatures with their sick giggles, bullets of spinning green magic that unerringly found their targets. "You dropped into any of these weirdsmobile realities yet or is this your first?" he shouted to Ciara over the increasing din. "That's why I been carryin' round them weapons. They keep poppin' up all over town."

Ruby could feel the deep rends in her flesh where the creature gouged her open. Her blood mixed with the rest of the mess on the floor, steaming hot as it ran from her wounds. She dug her fingers into the soft flesh of the creatures neck, squeezing until she heard cartilage pop and break and grind, and then it just... stopped. It was gone, and Ruby could breath. She lay there for a brief second, grimacing at the deep rends in her shoulder and stomach, before seeing Ryden standing over her. "God save the fucking Queen am I glad to see you," she told him as she pushed to her feet.

"Maya? The fuck ya doin' 'ere?" She was someone he'd least expected here. Or anywhere. Looking beyond her, he saw more faces he could recognize. "What's going on?" Looking down, he saw that the person creature was trying to nibble on was actually Ruby. "Shit, you a'ight?" He reached down to pull her up, knowing that her werewolf healing would take care of the rest. Ahead, he glanced at the rush of staggering, giggling monstrosities advancing forth at them. "Can't it just, like, for once, be a land of sparkles, polite leprechauns and unicorns? Naw?"

Retrieving her sword and wiping the gore off on her jeans - not that it did much good - after Ryden helped her up, Ruby rolled her shoulder as it slowly started to heal. "Yeah. You know me. I can take a punch," she said to her friend. "You good?" She looked at Maya and asked the same thing. But then the sounds came, and Ruby's attention turned with the rest. "Always another fucking shit show..." Ruby moved with the others next to Ephram and Ciara, unsure if she should fire her gun or not. She was a good shot, but her bullets weren't spelled like Ephram's. She could miss and then... well, they'd drown.

"I needed groceries?," Maya replied. She looked back towards the others as far as an answer for what was going on. She had an ominous warning. One that was getting clearer by the minute, but didn't yet explain all this. She turned back when she heard Ryden asking Ruby if she was okay. It was a question she wanted to hear the answer to. "Not to be a complete asshole by the way," she added mostly to Ruby, "But I am like 85% sure I actually killed it, so that God save the Queen should be directed at me." She was about to answer Ruby's other question when the rest of their company's arrival drew her attention.

“Six of us, three entries. Let’s stay close.” Ciara ignored Maya’s apology, focused on nothing but the creaking floor and the creatures headed their way. “First,” was all she said to Ephram, as the gitturn chirped and drew her attention to her left, shattering a heart there. The nausea was coming back - Ephram was right about these Leys. The world was shrinking down to a fight, a need to win, and damn the consequences to her soul as she stained the water they were standing in red, dropping four bodies in quick concession. It didn’t matter. Again. There were dozens.

"Yeah but the point is to NOT let 'um punch ya. Yer just a bag for it then." Ryden snorted, stepping up with Ruby. "Where'd ya get the fuckin' kitchen knife ya got there? In an anime?" Raising an eyebrow at Maya, he couldn't skip on a challenge to be the better one even when it was pointless. "Ya squirted a metal ball at it. I bashed its brains in. Let's do the autopsy later. I'll give ya a cookie if it's your kill." Looking back at Ephram's gun out and aimed he cringed. "Should we have guns out here? Anyone smart enough to consider that's maybe a no, cause..." He waved his hand in a general direction of... everywhere.

Essie balled her fists from her spot beside Ephram. She wasn't as good a shot as the others but she could do her best to be useful. She threw a handful of dust towards an open tunnel entrance the dust caught fire at her glamour and she looks back at the others. "Can we maybe fight about kills LATER."

Ephram glanced down at the reddening pool at their feet, leaning hard into Ciara so he could mutter closely in her ear, "--I'm in good shape right now and me and Essie got healing abilities that work in these places. If you need blood that ain't fucked up like I'm guessin' is in these critters, you don't need to ask." But Ciara knew her own magic, so Ephram felt he only needed to make the offer once. He took note of Ruby and Ryden returning with Maya, not bothering to address the question of his guns and instead saying, "these fuckers seem a sight smarter'n the monsters Essie and me faced off in them other pocket worlds. Seems to me it might be best for us to split and stopper up wherever they might be streamin' in here from, unless we wanna end up as the cheese in the worst fuckin' game of Farmer in the Dell ever."

"True," Ruby said to Ryden. "And I'll tell ya later," she said of the sword. She managed a tiny smirk - which was more a grimace - towards Maya, but the crowd of creatures in the hallway was growing, and while Ephram and Ciara were making a dent, it was refilling over and over. One made it past, screeching and lurching towards them. Ruby took it's head off with her sword. Another broke through, fell in the water, and she crushed it's skull beneath her boot. "We're runnin' out of opttions," she said to everyone else. "Is there a way outta here?"

"How 'bout I stay back here and out of ya'lls way and fight o'er YER kills t'pass time cause it looks to me like yer all handlin' it well." Ryden said, as the advancing mob of zombies wobbled their way at them. He leaned against a glass wall, right over one of the cracks spreading like spiderweb over them. He was tired and he had somewhat figured out how this pocket world travel works here. Which means that they might get spit out somewhere else anytime now. If they didn't, he was ready, tired from his own previous quest as he was.

"I hope you mean the kind of cookie I think you mean," Maya shot back at Ryden with a shit eating grin. She turned though to look at all the new arrivals. There were too many. The water around their feet was already red with blood. She dropped the rifle in her hands. A second later, it landed with a dull splash. "Fuck," she muttered. She shook her head. "I'm out guys. I can make sure you all get out, but I'm fucking done," she confessed. It was like a switch turning off, something she couldn't explain.

Essie stared at them incredulously. "You're just done? Shit is trying to fucking eat us." she couldn't believe it. Throwing another handful of dust, this time onto an oncoming figure to then burst into flame.

Ruby glanced at Maya as she dropped the rifle. She didn't know if one could actually die in these places, but Ruby wasn't about to take that chance. "Get her," Ruby said to Ryden before turning back to the oncoming hoarde. "Split up where?" she asked Ephram. "If I shift, I might be able to lure most of them down another way...."

Ephram was embroiled in shooting at creatures who were crawling and scrabbling and leaping towards them, but Essie's comment made him guffaw out loud anyhow.

Ephram said to Ruby's idea, "Take Ryden with you. I dunno how much help Maya's gonna be, maybe leave her here for Essie to sort out." He wasn't sure what was up with Maya once she dropped the gun and started talking about making sure they'd all get out, but it didn't sound like she was coping well, whatever it was.

Not batting an eyelash when Ruby pointed out Maya's distress, he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back. "Stay behind me, cupcake, and hold that cookie I promised." There was no way Ryden would willingly move himself up front where he'd be most effective for anyone, because he'd easily be in line of Ephram and Ciara's fire and the wicked fairy dust fireballs Esse was throwing. But for Maya and her safety, he was willing to risk friendly fire. "Fuck that, we ain't splittin' up. You even watch horror?" With sickening crack of bones and muscle, Ryden was doing that neat little werewolf party trick unique to him - muscles in his arms bulged and sharp claws sprouted out of his fingertips. He now had a jaw full of too many teeth for a human. He stepped out of the front line of shooters with a leap, claws aiming and shredding at random but efficiently.

“If it comes down to it, I won’t ask,” Ciara replied quietly. If it came to it, it would just be like the first time they had met. She’d sacrifice him at her altar with only barely a second thought. “Stopper them, then drown them. Some of the doors hermetically seal. Like a sub.” Her gaze flicked to Maya, and saw the deadness Ciara felt already.

Ephram lifted his guns as Ryden leapt in front of them, growling in aggravation, "I'm watchin' a fuckin' horror right now! Get the fuck out my way, Bolt!" But it was pretty damn obvious that wasn't going to happen, so Ephram swore a blue streak and told Ciara, "Fine, but watch my back and make sure these un's don't git shredded." The way that Ryden was dealing with the creeping pale people ahead of them. So Ephram used it to his advantage: with Ryden flinging ribbons of meat and blood, Ephram dodged and darted behind him as if the wolf was an ambulance, the two of them steadily making their way to one of the door seams where -- hopefully -- there'd be some sort of mechanism to seal the place.

Maya stumbled as Ryden pulled her backwards. "No" she started to argue. It didn't matter. Didn't they all understand it didn't matter? She swallowed a shout as Ryden jumped in front of everyone. Her heart thudded in her chest. There was a moment as she looked around at everyone else where something like life flickered in her eyes. It was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. They were still fighting. They were going to get hurt and all for nothing. With dead eyes, Maya picked up the rifle again. It was almost robotic the way she fired. Each shot hit with almost perfect precision as Ryden and Ephram advanced. But it wasn't Maya anymore, not really. It was a version of her that knew only how to survive. The moment the threat was no longer imminent, it would crumble like dust.

Essie had stopper and drown repeating in her head. She could potentially blow a bigger hole than a bullet hole with her dust she'd just need to be at the front when they found doors that could close. Not that the idea enticed her any. But she voiced this to anyone who could hear her as she followed down the tube, walking backwards to keep an eye behind them. "I can firecracker my dust, blow a hole when you get the doors closing."

Ryden was practically tossing the creatures out of the way, his breaking through forceful, messy and stomach-churning, elbows-deep into dead bodies and their insides, ripping limbs, organs and skin with bare, clawed hands. What he missed, others would easily take down as they drew closer to what might be their salvation.

Ruby wasn't keen on leaving Maya behind for her to 'maybe' be sorted out. So when Ryden pulled their shell shocked friend behind him, Ruby let out a breath. She knew Ryden would keep Maya safe above everything else. But that meant she couldn't be a decoy. So as Ryden did his shifting trick, Ruby heard Ciara over the din. "How do we get the doors to work?" Ruby asked. "If we kill enough of them, they'll block themselves in. At least for a bit."

But then Ephram was already moving in behind Ryden, headed that way. That left Ruby and Ciara and Essie. Ruby's shoulder was starting to ache fiercely, her swings growing weaker. She needed to shift so she could heal, if nothing else. Or she was a liability. Trusting that she would retain enough of her human mind with a voluntary shift, Ruby shoved her sword into the duffel bag that lay nearby, striipping her boots and clothes in quick succession before she let the wolf have her. Bones cracked and limbs lengthened, dark hair turned white and blue eyes bled crimson until a huge white wolf had taken her place. It shook itself, still covered in the same blood as Ruby, and lifted it's nose into the air. She could smell The Other ahead of her, and more that were familiar. It didn't take long for her jaws to find flesh. One great shake and a spine snapped before being tossed aside.

Ephram heard the familiar flap of fairy wings behind him and Ryden, and when Essie voiced her plan he was intensely glad that she /had/ followed them. "Git ready, then," he barked back at her, to be heard through the schripping of Ryden's claws and the screams of the creatures. "Build up enough dust so's you can blow a hole big enough for a goddamn hearse to drive through, and I'll take care of findin' the sealing mechanism." Because she was right; his bullets were good against the creatures, but the kind of hole they'd need to blow required dust and plenty of it.

Maya twisted as something caught her shoulder. She didn't go down though. Instead, she used its own momentum against it. In complete survival mode, she found its head and yanked. A sickening snap echoed in her ears. She scrambled again to her feet, blood dripping from her shoulder. She glanced up at Essie and nodded. Whatever the fairy needed her to do to help, she was ready.

Essie spares a hand, reaching out and touching Mayas shoulder with just a hint of healing, she couldn't spare much but a little was worth something at least. But she lets her wings lift her up off the ground, concentrating on generating a mass of dust rather than focusing on not tripping over the carnage on the ground. She might not be taking anything dangerous out while they moved, but she was trying her best to provide as much use as she could.

They were reaching the door that was Ryden’s goal. Kind of like one of those round, hermetically sealed submarine passages. Ryden had tossed one of the zombified creatures right at it, where it was full-body slammed and had its spine broken. Ryden reached those doors right after it but there would be no good in breaking the hatch, which he could definitely do - they needed it closed after. "Little help 'ere??" He asked, speech impaired by the Cheshire grin of sharp teeth and protruding canines.

The wolf-Ruby pushed forwards when needed, pulling back when necessary only to surge towards the monsters again when there was an opening. The corridor was quicklly filling up, and anything not dead from Ryden's hands or otherwise, she crushed it's skull with her teeth, making sure it didnt' move again. Her muzzle and chest and legs were stained red with gore, but Ruby kept going with the others. Biting and crushing and smashing her way through.

A fighter, a healer, a maker, a leader, and... Wasn’t Ruby human?? Not anymore, it seemed, but it would still work, an idea in Ciara’s mind. They needed the door closed. They needed to reach the door. The floor was slick and slippy and covered in corpses - each time they killed they made their own progression harder. They were under the sea. Sea with currents and waves and movement, and blood had that all too. She had the consent of two. That would have to do.

In six people at once, the back of their wrists split open, spilling blood into midair that flowed into Ciara’s hands like a current, flowing and twisting and pumping, a six fold circulatory system. Magic like this had a cost, and they would just have to find out what that was. Once they’d survived. The blood curled into crystals And then into one. Ciara twisted the threads of ley magic into a whole new shape, instinct and confidence pouring into one, something new and something old, and something that would have to do. Ciara carved it and sculpted it like wood on her bench, like clay, like ice, and found a word that suited. She dropped the crystal to the ground, and spoke.

“Clot.”

All that bloody water surged around her, up, up, up, like a wave, and left those that she wanted untouched - the blood she had taken from them made each immune to her spell. The water pulsed and pumped, and picked up each body in turn, splicer and dead alike. Except it wasn’t picking them up - they were becoming part of the wave, like blood pouring out of a split artery and picking part of the pulsing, pumping mass. It was imperfect - all new spells were - too many had been left unscathed as well, confused if not for long. But others were gluing up behind the door, struggling. They were platelets to a wound, and now they were sealing, like a scab. The ley was quickly draining, and so was her connection to it. This would not last.

Maya stood for half a second in awe. The thought of pain in her wrist didn't occur to her. But she knew magic. It shook her out of awe quickly. "The door!" she shouted, "Someone hit the door." But she was holding a gun. Even as she said it, Maya raised the rifle and aimed. She fired into the door's control panel in a very Han Solo move. It crackled and fizzled before sliding closed. Maya dropped the rifle again, breathing heavily.

Ciara didn’t see the door close. One dozen, two dozen of them left, at least one was making its way over to her. Ciara raised a hand to do something, and instead... dropped to the floor, as two gitturns squeaked.

Ephram had been half-expecting Ciara to dip into her blood magic, but he hadn't for a moment thought it would look like this. Bodies and not-quite-corpses being picked up and dancing like puppets in a pusing wave to clot and seal up the entranceway that he, Ryden, and Essie had been making their ways towards, and Ruby too, from the sound of it. But before they could reach and put their plan into action, there was a rifle shot from behind them. The panel exploded and the door shut, and that was that. Problem solved.

Ciara, though, collapsed into the bleeding water below her feet, so Ephram turned his attention from where it was no longer required and ran back to the witch, dropping down to pull her from the filthy puddle. The gitterns chittered, angry or scared or both.

"C'mon, git the gross blood lady up and git in. Go go go GO!" Ryden hurried them along, having pulled the door open after Maya shot at the panel.

Essie yelped in pain at the cut on the back of her wrist forming, tears in her eyes involuntarily at the pain. Maya raised her gun to shoot and Essie -who'd almost dropped her growing ball of dust- lurched forward in a moment of panic but the door was closed too quickly. So much for drowning them. She turns her attention to something else she could potentially do with it. "A healing touch?" she offers unsure whether it would do any good running to the unknown womans side.

Maya nodded towards Ryden. They should get out of here while they still could. She half turned to Essie at her offer, "Ciara." She nodded towards Ciara for Essie's benefit before she looked for Ruby. She needed to make sure that the wolf got out with them safely. She wiped her face, finding it wet with saltwater.

Ruby barely felt the slice in her own leg/wrist as Ciara worked her spell. All she knew was that the air hummed with blood and magic and gore. The wolf knew what magic felt like, when it was dangerous and malintended, but other than that, she knew only that whatever the blood witch had done, it seemed to have worked. The other were further up the tunnel than her, so Ruby turned back when the door shut under the rifle blast. She saw the witch collapse, saw Ephram run over, and saw the lurch of another creature nearby by.

Growling and snapping, Ruby leapt at the creature, who screamed and railed at her, clawing and biting before Ruby could close her jaws around its slick flesh. There was a sickening crunch, and the creature went limp. Ruby shook her head, tearing thecreatures throat out for good measure. She turned to the others as Ryden called out, lingering in the back but following close as the others moved ahead. She didn't want to be left behind.

Ruby wuffled at the nearly unconscious witch as Ephram dragged her up, giving the chattering furries a passive glance but not caring enough about them to linger. ~GO.~ she thought to the others. ~GO NOW. They are coming.~

Ephram made sure to scoop the little gitturns up, not at the moment caring if they bit him or whatever; into his rescued golf bag they went, as he toted it and Ciara down the passageway. "If this is anythang like them other fucked-up mold places," he huffed as they hustled, "now that we squashed a bunch of them monsters it's like that we's gonna--" And that was as far as he got, this time. Suddenly, Ephram ran himself, Ciara, the gitturns, and his golf bag full of weapons into a stacked display of yum-yum pickles, knocking everything over in a resounding and vinegary crash over the floor of the regular world version of the supermarket.

Essie watched the sheriff vanish as he had done before and gave a firm nod. She'd seen this before. "Some of us are gonna vanish outta nowhe-" and there she went. That tugging in her gut and she overbalanced and landed on her ass in a pile of pickles. Blinking in the new electronic lighting of the market she looks shakes her head, getting up quick. She needed to get home ...covered head to tow in guts /again/.

#plot:the blight #violence cw #blood cw #alessafalling #mayaparker #rydenbolt #scarlettxruby #thatwhichbindsus

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