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giggly-squiggily · 9 months ago

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Weekly Basis (Fire Force)

Heyo! :D I missed my boys, and now here they are kjejakrkjearjkeaj I was fangirling with Nym (@intheticklecloset) recently over these two and Fire Force as a whole- one thing led to another and boom! This fic was born! I hope y'all like it! :D

Summary: Arthur and Shinra have weekly tickle fights. That's it- that's the fic

It was Arthur’s fault, naturally. He usually was the one to start these fights.

“Begone devil, or I’ll be forced to cut you down.” The blonde fumed, grabbing the hilt of his plasma blade. “I’m not one to bluff.”

“Gee, forget how to say ‘excuse me’?” Said devil rolled his eyes as he turned back to the counter, pouring cream into his coffee. He could move, but Shinra was feeling petty now. The self proclaimed knight king could wait. “Since you're standing there, hand me the sugar? I think Maki burned the pot.”

“Assisting a devil? And a stubborn one at that- you are truly bold to ask a Knight King for assistance after refusing my orders.” Arthur puffed up, the hand on his hilt tightening knuckle white. Still, he turned and grabbed the sugar off the nearby table.

Only to put it on the top of the fridge, just out of Shinra’s reach.

“Oh you son of a-” Shinra growled as he twisted towards him, reaching for the bowl. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Had you yielded, you’d have your sugar- hey, back you!!” Arthur pushed at his shoulders as Shinra leaned into him, using the blonde as leverage. “Begone I said!”

“Shut up, you started it!” Shinra stretched his arm long, fingers just grazing his target. Arthur scrunched his nose up at the smell. “Hold still!”

He did not. Instead, Arthur shoved his hand into his armpits for a better shove, curling his fingers.

The reaction was near instantaneous.

“GAH!” Shinra yelped, all but falling on his ass as he spasmed backwards. Arthur reached out to grab him, a hand to Shinra’s t-shirt the only thing preventing him from hitting his head on the way down. There was a brief moment of stunned silence, then…

“Geahhaha! Doohohohn’t you dahhahahre!” Shinra cried out when Arthur let him go, following him down with two hands in his armpits. “Stahhahahap, sthahhap yooohohohu jehheheerk!”

“Oo, what’s wrong? Is the devil himself ticklish?” The blonde cooed, grinning from ear to ear as Shinra thrashed and squealed beneath him, curling up like a cockroach. “If I’ve known this sooner, I’d have defeated you already! Now I shall take my chance!”

“Yehahahhaha rihhihiihght! Gehahahhaha, yohohohou’re a mohohohorohohohon iihihif yohohohu thihiihnk thihihs will kihihihll mehehehehe!” Shinra quickly reached out, grabbing onto Arthur’s knee and squeezing. Almost immediately, Arthur spasmed, falling back and giving Shinra the opening he needed to run.

“Dehevil! Get back here!” Arthur cried out, but Shinra was already far too gone, laughing the entire way.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur was exhausted.

It was the beginning of the week, and the dreaded paperwork day. Normally such an event wouldn’t come around until later, but due to a few incidents over the weekend with infernals, the torture was moved sooner. The ogre pri-Maki; his head still hurt- insisted it wasn’t all that bad; just a small pile for each of them.

For her or the lieutenant, this was breezy. For the Knight King himself; it felt like decades.

“Oi, sit up- that’s how you fall asleep.” Shinra elbowed him gently, snapping him out of his sleepy trance. “Speaking of, did you sleep at all last night? I swear I heard you snoring for the most of it.”

“A Knight King gets plenty of stamina. This however- it’s poison. It drains my life force.” Arthur looked down miserably at the half finished paper, feeling his eyes start to droop just after reading the first few lines. “I’ve sat here for eons. Any longer and I won’t be able to go on…”

“It’s been five minutes. Most of them you spent asleep.” Shinra elbowed him again when Arthur started to droop, shaking him awake once more. “Do you want some coffee? An energy drink- water?”

“Coffee would be nice..” Arthur nodded through a yawn, watching Shinra get up to make it. “Make haste, devil- before this poison spreads to my he-aaaaart..”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” Shinra rolled his eyes as Arthur yawned again, stretching his arms out overhead. “Don’t be asleep when I get back or else.”

Arthur knew Shinra likely meant it. He leaned into his hand as he stared at the paper, the world growing blurrier and blurrier until…

“Eheh!” Something sharp and ticklish jabbed his sides. His vision was blind- when did that happen? Oh no- the poison spread to his eyes! “I can’t see-”

The paper he was working on fluttered off his face. Arthur stared. Oh.

Then the tickles came back and he didn’t have any time to feel silly.

“I told you to stay awake, didn’t I?” Shinra growled in his ear as he squeezed the life out of Arthur’s sides, making the blonde squeal and squirm in his clutches. “I told you, and you fell asleep anyway! This is what you get!”

“Aehahhhahahha! Rehehahahaleahahase me, dehheheehevil! Hohohow dahahahare yohohohu- gehahahhahahahhah!” The Knight King tried and failed to grab his hands, still groggy with sleep as Shinra danced his fingers up and down his torso. “Begohohohohone, dehhehehevil-HEhhehehehehehhahah!”

“You know- you’re awfully bold to ask for coffee from me and then tell me to ‘begone’. Actually- didn’t you say the same thing yesterday too?” Shinra’s efforts were doubled as Arthur snorted like a pig, trying and failing to guard his stomach from the devil’s prodding fingers. “Well too bad for you! I’m here with an antidote for your ‘poison’, and I’m not going anywhere until it’s in full effect!”

The coffee had grown cold by the time they were done, but Arthur wasn’t sleepy anymore.

A win is a win?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Shut up! It’s not like you’ve never been stuck before!” Shinra argued at the Knight King- his stance weakened significantly as he swayed to and from. “Get me down!”

“Usually I’d leave devils like yourself like this, but as a Knight King, I suppose I have to help you.” A puff of laughter escaped the blonde’s lips, momentarily breaking his monologue. Seeing Shinra hanging upside down in a tree with his leg caught within the branches was quite the sight! Part of him wanted to take a few pictures.

Well…

“Oi, put your phone away and help me!” Shinra cried, swiping at Arthur as the other snapped a few shots, ducking and weaving out of the brunette’s reach. “Arthur!”

“Pfft, okay okay.” Tossing his phone aside, he reached up and grabbed Shinra by the waist- or ribs. He was never good at devil anatomy. “I’m gonna pull you down- try not to squirm.”

“Hurry u-eehheahhaha, stahhahap!” Shinra cried, shivering all over at the feeling of tickles. “Don’t tihihickle me!”

“I’m not trying too- damn, how’d you get so stuck?” Arthur gave another tug, squeezing Shinra more and more as he pulled. The entire time, the brunette was giggling and curling up, punching at the air and holding his face as he tried and failed to escape. “I told you to stop squirming!”

“Ahahahand I tohohold yoohohou tohoho stahhap tihihihckli-EHEHE!” Hands to his hips did him in. He arched so harshly he went backwards into Arthur, his leg deciding that was the time to come loose. The two boys went flailing into the dirt below- groaning in mutual pain as leaves scattered around them.

“Ugh..Devil, are you hurt?” Arthur asked, feeling Shinra shake his head. “Good. You can carry me back.”

“Oh shit- did you get hurt?” Shinra shot up, staring down at Arthur’s torso.

“No, but I’m far too tired. It’s the least you can do for knocking the air out of me.”

Shira swore, digging into the blonde’s sides and making him jump and cackle.

He did end up carrying Arthur home though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghgggggggggggghhh.

Shinra felt his eye twitch. He pressed them closed tighter, practically squinting.

Ghgggggg-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhch.

He pulled the pillow tighter around his ears, trying to block out the sound.

Khggggggh-ghhhghgh-zhhhhhhhhhhgh

Now that last one sounded personal. Shinra twisted in his bed to glare down at the blonde sleeping away. Arthur wasn’t usually the type to snore; most nights the most you’d hear out of him is sleep talking through a dream-made acceptance speech. It was only when he got sick he snored.

And good lord he could snore!

“Oi, Knight King!” Shinra whispered sharply down at him, waving to get his attention. Usually he’d be more sympathetic for his roommate in times like this, but Arthur was on the very last leg of his cold. After what felt like decades listening to him snore, he finally had enough. “Wake up!”

“Zzh-heh?” Snorting awake, Arthur blinked blurrily up at him, wiping at his face with a tired hand. “What? The princess wishes me to marry her? I’m flattered, but I am far too committed to my duties.”

“No, dumbass! Wake up! You’re snoring like crazy!” Shinra growled, climbing down the latter of their bunk before heading to the bathroom. “Hang on, let me get the decongestants.”

“I don’t need your potions, Devil. I’m fine. Besides its-” Arthur looked at the clock, wincing. “Good lord- 1 am?- I can survive the night.”

“Well, I can’t.” Shinra came back with a glass of water and two pills, offering them to the blonde. “Take them. That’ll clear your up.”

Arthur stared. Then he scrunched up his nose in distaste, shaking his head. “Those are poison.”

“They’re medicine!”

“They taste horrible.”

“You sound like ass- take the freaking pills!” Too tired for patience, Shinra put down the water and climbed onto Arthur’s bed, grabbing at his sides as he brought the pills to his mouth. “Come on- come on, Knight King- the princess wants you to take them!”

“The priiihihncess is a dehehhevil! A dehihihvil in dihhihisguiihihse!” Arthur giggled out, one hand slapped over his mouth as the other shoved at Shinra, trying and failing to keep it down. “Stahhahap, it tihihihickles!”

“Take. The. Meds. Now!” Shinra growled, worming his fingers higher up as Arthur fell back into the bed, squeaking and giggling all the way. He was about to shove a hand into the blonde’s gut to really get him going when the door suddenly opened. “L-Lieutenant!”

Hinawa looked beyond exhausted, hair slightly messy and glasses missing. He also looked really, really pissed. He walked over, taking in the sight as his eyes landed on the pills in Shinra’s hand.

Without any words, he held out his hand for them. Shinra gave them without question. Hinawa turned to Arthur.

“These will make you into a grand knight king. Take them or you’ll die to the witch's poison.” He spoke so seriously even Shinra believed him. Arthur blanched before snatching the pills, gulping them down with every last drop of water.

“Good. Bed. Now.” Hinawa gave Shinra a look that sent chills up his spine. Quickly, the brunette did so, watching the older man leave. Before the door shut, he heard a soft “Goodnight boys.”

“Scary…” Shinra moaned. Below him, Arthur was fast asleep already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s it! This charade has gone on LONG ENOUGH!” Shinra declared one afternoon- tossing down his coat and pointing at the blonde before him. “You and me- outside; right now!”

“Bring it on, Devil. I’ve been waiting for this day.” Arthur nodded, following the brunette out the door. Tamaki- who had been sitting by watching the entire fiasco- turned to the others with wide eyes.

“Should we stop them?” She asked- still new to Company 8’s dynamics.

“They’ll be fine. They do this at least once a week.” Maki reassured her, sorting through the remains of her paperwork. “If you want, why don’t you go out and see for yourself? I can take care of things here.”

Tamaki nodded, standing up and heading towards the door. With a small huff, she pushed it open to find…

“COME HERE!” Shinra yelled out, diving into Arthur’s middle as the blonde grabbed onto his shirt. Sparks flew and flames ignited as Shinra took flight, soaring him and Arthur through the air. Despite such a move, they only skimmed the rooftop, no different than a fly buzzing around a sugar cube.

“Think you’ve one? Ha! Take this!” Arthur wasn't deterred. The second they reached the center of the roof once more he brought the hilt of his sword into Shinra’s back, making him stumble to his feet. Tamaki sucked in a small hiss- that couldn’t have felt good.

Neither did the suplex Shinra performed on Arthur. With the blonde on his back, Shirna was quick to sit on his hips, one hand grabbing at his wrists while the other…

“AH! Shihihihihihihit!” Arthur yelped, arching when Shinra’s fingers attacked his stomach, sending waves of ticklishness up his core. “Dehehehhevil!”

“Whahaht?” Shinra mimicked, giggling like a goon as he carried on gently tickling the other. He was smiling that devilish grin of his- the kind that never failed to make Tamaki’s heart do little flutters whenever it came around. “Come on- fight back, Knight King? What is it- too much for you to handle?”

“Yohohoohu shuhuhuhut yoooohur fahahhahce! Gehahhaha, I’m juhuhust gehehhehetting stahahhahartred!” With a burst of strength, Arthur broke free from Shinra’s grip, attacking the other’s ribs with full force. The brunette yelped as he doubled over, giggling like a child almost immediately. “Tahhahahke thahahahaht!”

“Wow- and here I thought they’d spar more before getting into the tickles.” Maki’s amused tone make Tamaki jump out her skin, finding the older girl watching alongside her. “Last week it took them a few more attacks before they got going.”

“They’ve been on edge all week. This is their stress relief.” Hinawa added, making Maki nod in agreement.

“Latom.” Iris added, tenting hands. Tamaki copied her almost automatically.

“Ehehehehheheh! Dohoohohohn’t juhuhuhuuhst stahhahahnd thehehehere- hehehehelp meheheh!” Shinra called out to them, half fighting off Arthur’s attacks and half digging into the nearest soft spot he could find. “Geheheheht his neehheheck-EHEHEHEH!”

“Dohohohon’t goohohoho gihihihving awahhahy my sehehehecrets! Hihihis feheheht! Gehehhet his feheheheh-EHEEHEHK!” Arthur yelped just as loudly when Shinra dug into his highest ribs, the hands in Shinra’s armpits starting to weaken. “GEHEHEHT OOHOHOHUT!”

“DIHIHIIHIHITTOOHOHOHOHO!”

“They’ll work it out eventually.” Hinawa returned to his desk, Maki following not too long after. Iris stayed with Tamaki, giggling in her hand as she watched the boys play.

“They’re always like this- you don’t have to worry.” She reassured her, squeezing Tamaki’s hand. “Come- lets go get some tea before they realize we’re still here.”

Away they went, leaving the boys screaming and cackling on the rooftop in their tickle fight. Soon the noise died down, the boys returning to the office disheveled and giggly.

“Iihihll..I’ll win nehehext time!” Shinra called out, pointing at a sleepy Arthur as the blonde sank into his seat.

“Suhuhure, shuuhhure..dehhehevil.” Arthur rolled his eyes, head hitting the desk as he began to snore. Only Maki shaking him kept him from completely passing out.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish.” Tamaki mused as she passed him a mug, watching his ears go red. “Who knew the hero had such a weakness?”

There was a brief pause in his eyes, something she couldn’t quite read passing over them before he began to laugh, taking the mug with that trademark smile of his. “Well- all the best heroes have one. Sometimes two.”

“What’s the other one?” She asked automatically, tilting her head when he only smiled around his mug.

“That’s a secret”

Thanks for reading!

#Fire Force #shinra kusakabe #arthur boyle #company 8 #fluff #tickle #tickle fic #implied Tamashinra cause yes #Tamashin?#Tamashin #They are PRECIOUS!

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mads-nixon · 1 year ago

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Epiphany Pt. 13: Forever Winter

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: Forever Winter by Taylor Swift

A/N: this chapter was painful to write, and we're not even to the painful part yet...this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: With General Patton's forces breaking through the line in late December, Easy finally gets the supplies and gear it needs. Doc is able to take (y/n) to the aid station where she gets less-than-favorable news.

Warnings: mentions of injuries

DECEMBER 29TH, 1944: BOIS JACQUES, BELGIUM:

On December 26th, Patton’s forces finally broke through the German lines, allowing crucial supplies to be delivered to the front. Easy received much-needed winter clothing–coats, scarves, winter caps–and essential supplies like ammunition, food, and medical provisions. Nix had to all but force (y/n) to go with Eugene to get her wrist proper medical attention. Doctors at the new aid station examined it and determined that she did indeed have a small break in her right wrist. They soon put a hard cast on it that went from her knuckles to her forearm and admitted her to the field hospital.

After one night of being in the hospital, regardless of its warmth and cozy beds, her heart ached to be back with Easy. The men were her family, and being away from them in the lonely hospital, surrounded by agony and pain, made her want nothing more than to be with them again.

(Y/n) quickly gathered her things and discreetly walked through the halls, pulling her coat securely over her cast to hide it from any hospital staff. She made her way to the front of the building and exited into the cold air. After being in the warmth of the hospital for a little while, the icy wind sent a shiver down her spine.

“Back to reality,” she whispered to herself, attempting to pull a glove over her casted hand. Unable to stretch the glove over the cast, she groaned and put on her left one. As she was fishing through her pockets for a pair of her extra socks, a voice called out to her.

“Need a ride?” a man asked, sitting behind the wheel of a nearby jeep.

(Y/n) paused her movements and walked over to him, the freshly fallen snow crunching under her boots. “Yeah. Can you take me to the 506th?”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded, cranking up the jeep with a rumble. “Hop in.”

Quirking a smile, she got in quickly, checking behind her for doctors or nurses. “Thank you so much. I don’t think I could last another second in there.”

The man chuckled as he pressed on the gas, propelling them down the road. “Going AWOL?”

“How’d you guess?” (y/n) replied, her eyebrow raised.

“Well, you do have a cast on your hand…”

“True, true,” she smirked, looking down at her hand. Suddenly, she remembered what she was doing when he had called out to her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an extra pair of socks, sliding both onto her right hand in a makeshift glove.

(Y/n) sighed, wiggling her fingers. “God bless Skip Muck.”

He glanced over at her questioningly. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” she chuckled, sitting up in the seat. “It’s just something my friend says. ‘Feet, hands, neck, balls. Extra socks warms them all.��”

The laughter that bubbled from his lips was contagious, and (y/n) found herself wheezing as she joined in. “Your friend sure seems like a hoot…” the man grinned, dragging out his last word as if prompting for her name.

“(Y/l/n). Corporal (y/n) (y/l/n),” she replied, a proud smile gracing her lips.

“Well, (y/l/n). Nice to meet ya. I’m PFC Jerry Barnes. It’s an honor to meet an Athena in person. I’ve only heard about y’all through the grapevine.”

“The honor’s mine. Otherwise, I’d be stuck in that dreadful hospital.”

They continued conversing for a little while until they came rumbling down to a stop amongst the trees of the Ardennes near Easy.

“Here we are, ma’am,” Jerry remarked, nodding at her as he readjusted his helmet. “It was nice to meet you.”

(Y/n) got out of the jeep and pulled her M-1 back over her shoulder. “Likewise, Jerry. Thanks again!” she called, walking toward the line.

After a few minutes of hiking through the heavy snow, she found Captain Winters outside his foxhole talking to Lip, whose brow was creased as he spoke.

“I don’t know, sir. We haven’t seen him.”

Dick sighed, rubbing his cheek as he turned, hearing her approaching footsteps. “(Y/n), how’s the arm?” he asked, dismissing Lipton with a nod.

“Fine, sir,” she replied with a plastered smile, tugging at her right sleeve which had ridden up slightly.

His eyes caught the movement and he tilted his head, the corner of his lips downturned as his blue eyes stared at her in a disapproving glare. “(Y/n). What did the doctors say?”

“I’m alright,” she sighed, pulling off her sock glove and revealing the cast. “I want to go back with the guys, sir.”

Winters’ eyes widened at the bright white cast, and he shook his head. “(Y/n), go back to the aid station.”

“Sir, if I stay there the whole time I’ve got the cast, it’ll be a month, and a lot can happen in a month. I really would like to be here.”

His piercing eyes bore into hers for a few moments before a small smirk grew on his face. “Go on,” he nodded, pointing to the cast. “But don’t let Nix come after me when he sees that.”

(Y/n) let out a breath and pulled the sock back on her hand. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Dick started, burying his face into his scarf, “but I’ll let him know you’re back.”

Grinning, she started to make her way to the boys, following the sound of their laughter that echoed through the woods. (Y/n) managed to make it to the outskirts of Easy’s foxholes when a familiar voice spoke behind her.

”Why aren’t you at the aid station?”

(Y/n) froze, her steps coming to a halt at the voice. She let out a small huff of air and turned around to see Lew. His face was void of emotion, but his glare was simmering with frustration.

“Because I didn’t need to be there,” she stated plainly, attempting to stay calm under his scrutinizing gaze. She’d never seen Lew angry before. Not like this.

He slowly took a few steps toward her, trying to conceal his emotions as he reached out for her wrist. “Show me your arm.”

Looking away, she ripped off the sock and held up her right arm. He took it gently, inspecting the cast. “I’m fine, Lew. Really.”

Nix scoffed under his breath, eyes unmoving from her wrist. “If you were fine, you wouldn’t ha-”

“What do you want me to do?” she cried, eyes narrowing as she ripped her arm from his grasp. “Stay there for a month until I get this off?”

Lew watched her for a moment, his teeth clenched. “(Y/n/n), I’m not saying that you have to stay there for a month, but-”

“But what? But what, Lewis? If anyone else goes AWOL, good for them, right? So why is it such a bad thing that I did, huh? Tell me that.”

His eyes hardened, hurt flashing through them momentarily. “This isn’t about anyone else. It’s about you. It’s about you being reckless. Do you even understand how dangerous this is?”

“Reckless? How am I being reckless?” she defended, her voice firm as she threw her hands up.

“You can’t just brush off a fractured wrist and go back to the line, (y/n),” Nix’s voice rose, betraying his anxiety. “You’re in a cast for crying out loud. You can’t hold a weapon correctly, you can’t carry heavy gear, and even simple tasks will be a struggle. You need to be realistic about this.”

“Lew, you just don’t get it!” (Y/n) exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration.

His expression turned stern as he looked at her. “No, you don’t get it. You’re injured, and being out here, you’re putting yourself and everyone at risk.”

“I can’t just sit around in some aid station while the people I care about are out here,” she retorted, her tone defiant.

“Of course, you can’t,” he acknowledged. “But you can’t be out here with a broken wrist either. You’ll make it worse, and then you’ll really be useless.”

The word ‘useless’ hit her like a punch to the gut. Anger and hurt surged through her veins, and her face flushed red. “Useless? Is that what you think of me?”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant-,” he tried to backtrack after realizing the harsh words that had left his mouth.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Nixon!” she snapped, cutting him off. “If I’m that much of a burden, maybe I should just leave you be, then.”

Lew grabbed her arm, trying to make her understand. “That’s not what I think at all. You’re not a burden to anyone, especially not me. We need you here…I need you.”

(Y/n) shook her arm free, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. “You just said I’m useless. What am I supposed to believe?”

Nix sighed, his frustration mirroring hers. “I messed up and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You’re not useless, but you’re hurt, and you need to be careful.”

“But you did say it, Lew. You said it,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And I need to be careful? Careful so I don’t get in the way?”

“No, careful so you don’t hurt yourself more,” he said desperately, trying to choose his words more carefully.

Her anger blazed into a wildfire as she sneered at him. “Right, because I’m so fragile.”

“That’s not what I meant. Please, (y/n), listen,” he pleaded.

She shook her head, the hurt and anger bubbling up her throat. “I can’t do this right now. I need some space.”

Without waiting for his response, she turned and stormed off, her heart pounding with a mix of emotions. She needed to be alone to process the argument and figure out how to get rid of the frustration and hurt that threatened to consume her. Lew watched her go, regret and worry gnawing at him, knowing he had let his worry for her safety come out in the wrong way.

(Y/n) furiously wiped away the stray tears that fell down her cheeks as she finally arrived at her foxhole. Skip, Luz, and Penkala stared up at her, worry evident in their gazes.

“Please tell me you didn’t hear all that,” she whispered, her voice weak.

George nervously glanced at Skip, who was shaking his head. “Hear what?”

“Thank you,” she murmured as she settled down beside Skip, knowing they probably heard every word of the argument. “I missed you guys.”

“We missed you, too,” Skip smiled, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “Now what did the docs say?”

She held up her arm, pulling the sleeve back slowly. “Fractured.”

“Oh (y/n),” George winced, his face screwing up into a grimace. “How long do you have to wear it?”

“Supposedly four to six weeks,” the (y/h/c) replied, ”but we’ll see how long that lasts.”

“Did you go AWOL?” Skip asked from beside her.

Alex rolled his eyes and smacked Muck’s hole-ridden helmet. “Of course she did, idiot. They wouldn’t let anyone back out here with a cast.”

“You’re dumber than I thought, Skip,” George laughed, taking a drag of his cigarette.

JANUARY 3RD, 1945: BOIS JACQUES, BELGIUM

“I’m telling you, boys,” Bill Guarnere grumbled, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air. “We’re screwed.”

(Y/n) nodded her head at the statement, wrapping her coat even closer to her body as she sat in her foxhole beside Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, and Bill. The bitter chill of the January day seemed to penetrate every layer of clothing, and the memories that usually warmed her did nothing but chill her further. She hadn’t spoken to Lew since their argument, and she didn’t plan to. There was still so much to sort through in her mind.

Penkala scoffed. “If you ask me, I’m glad Lieutenant Dike’s never around.”

“Hey, you know what?” Malarkey chimed in, tucking his hands under his armpits. “We’re doing alright, even with Foxhole Norman.”

The group eyed him skeptically, and Bill was the first to voice the concern that hung in the air. “Yeah, Don, we’re doing alright. We’re doing alright now. In case you ain’t noticed, there’s a little town down the hill over there. And in that town are these guys called Germans. And these Germans got tanks,” he gritted, shivering as he sat on the edge of the hole.

Don sighed, his gaze drifting to the frozen ground. “I know.”

“Yeah,” Guarnere continued. “And our side’s gonna wanna go into that town. You wanna take one guess who they’re gonna want to go knocking on the damn doors?”

“I know, Bill. It’s me you’re talking to here,” An irritated Don replied.

He didn’t stop his tirade, much to Penkala’s amusement. He looked over at (y/n), expecting at least a smirk on her lips, but all he saw was a numb expression. The same one she’d had since she got back from the aid station. “Gosh, we’ve gotta do all this with a CO who’s got his head so far up his frickin’ ass that lump in his throat is his damn nose.”

Every word Bill said was true, and (y/n) found herself wishing they could have anyone else as their CO. When they’d arrived at their new position, Dike saw her without her helmet and about had a heart attack.

“You’re a woman,” he said, staring at her with wide eyes.

(Y/n) looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. “Yes, sir.”

“This is no place for a woman, doll.”

“Were you not informed of the Athena program, sir?” she asked, her dislike for him growing by the second.

“Oh, um…yes. Carry on, ma’am.”

“It’s corporal, sir,” she corrected. “Corporal (y/l/n).”

His gaze shifted to something in the distance, and he began walking past her, shouldering his rifle with a yawn. “Ah, yes. Carry on, ma’am.”

The woman stared daggers at his back as he walked off, not to be seen for hours. No one knew where he went when he disappeared. He’d sometimes say he was needed at regiment HQ, but most of the time, he just wandered off.

“You know,” (y/n) began, looking over at Skip beside her. “He refuses to call me by my rank like everyone else. It’s always doll, sweetheart, or some other crap like that. I can’t stand it.”

“The dude’s a class-A idiot if you ask me. Good ole foxhole Norman,” Muck mused, the corner of his quivering lips quirking into a smirk. “He’s almost as bad as Sobel.”

“At least Sobel addressed me by my rank.”

“Hey 1st Sergeant,” Skip called over her shoulder where Lipton was approaching the group.

Lip smiled, sitting next to Guarnere. “Hey, boys, and gal,” he replied. “Hey, Muck. What’s the word?”

“Oh, you know. Sitting around freezing our asses off,” he paused, smirking at (y/n). “Singing Dike’s praises.”

“Well, I’ll tell you. I wouldn’t wanna be a replacement officer coming in here, getting thrown in with a group of guys who’ve known each other for what? Two years?”

The group watched, soaking in his words.

“That have been in combat together since Normandy. You’re supposed to just show up and lead them? How’s a guy do that? How could anyone really hope to gain the respect of the toughest, most professional, most dedicated sons-of-bitches in the entire ETO? Huh?”

‘Treat them with some respect,’ (y/n) thought to herself. Lip did make some sense, though, even if Dike himself was incompetent.

“So if you ask me, a guy’d have to march off to Berlin and come back with Hitler’s mustache or something.”

Bill was the first to laugh, his chuckle floating into the air, followed by the rest of the group. (Y/n) could picture it…Dike holding Hitler’s mustache, and it became the funniest thing she’d thought about in days, besides the Hinkle situation, of course. That was a classic that would never be topped.

Carwood looked at her laughing face, a serious expression painting his own. “Anyway, listen. You guys don’t worry about Dike, alright?”

“Yeah,” they all murmured collectively, and (y/n) nodded, her laughter coming to an end.

“We all do our jobs, everything’ll be fine,” the sergeant finished, patting Bill’s leg before getting up and walking away.

“See ya, Sarge!” Muck called.

“Yeah, boy.”

As Lip walked away, they all pondered his words. Maybe they were holding Dike to an unreasonably high standard. Maybe they needed to lay off the man.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll ever respect Dike,” (y/n) began, staring up at the snow falling in the foxhole. “He’s going to get us killed.”

The group nodded in agreement, each becoming caught in their thoughts. In battle, there is no time to get lost in your mind: one’s sole objective is to survive. In a foxhole, however, there is little else you can do. The hours tick by as you stare ahead of you at the unchanging scenery, back and legs aching at your cramped position. In the silence, your inner monsters start to taunt you, poking and prodding at your mind like it's an animal in a cage, unable to defend itself from the constant attacks.

Dick and Lew were bundled up under the cover of their makeshift foxhole, eating Joe Dominguez’s lukewarm, watery beans, each shivering as the Bastogne wind blew through them. The men were silent as they ate, their minds providing enough noise. They’d discussed their problem and lack of a solution with Lieutenant Dike, but Dick was itching to ask Lew a question that had been floating in his head for a few days.

“Lew, what happened with (y/n)?” he asked quietly, watching his friend’s face fall.

Nix shook his head and put down his tin of beans. “I screwed up, Dick…big time. We got into an argument about her going AWOL with the cast. I was frustrated and worried, and I told her that she was useless.”

“Nix,” Dick groaned and sighed heavily, running a hand down his face. “How’d she react? Not good I’m guessing.”

“Yeah. She got so upset, Dick,” Lew whispered. “I could see how much it hurt her, and I tried to take it back, but it was too late.”

Winter’s looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Did you apologize?”

“Of course I did. But it didn’t change what I said. The damage had been done at that point.”

“Just give her time, Lew,” Dick murmured, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder. “She’s hurting right now. All you can do is let her know that you’re there for her, even if she doesn’t want to acknowledge it.”

“I’ve tried talking to her, but she just ignores me.”

“She’ll come around. I know it,” Winters nodded.

Staring at the XO with a smirk, Lew chuckled under his breath. “You know, for someone without any real experience in relationships, you give great advice, Dick.”

“What can I say? I’m a natural,” he grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

JANUARY 10th, 1945: BOIS JACQUES, BELGIUM:

As the days ticked by, more and more of Easy Company were being sent off the line. Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye had both been hit in an artillery barrage a few days prior, and Buck was sent to the hospital with a bad case of ‘trench foot’…but everyone knew seeing Bill and Joe in their state had broken him.

Things between Lew and (y/n) were frosty as ever, even though he’d checked on her after hearing about Bill and Joe. She’d brushed him off with a simple, “I’m fine,” and that was the end of their conversation. His words had cut her deeply, and she just wasn’t ready to forgive him yet, even if he’d not meant it. In the week and a half since she’d returned from the aid station, she wished that she’d stayed there in the warmth of the hospital.

(Y/n) cursed under her breath as the cast on her wrist felt like a vice, suffocating the limb. The unforgiving cold of the Ardennes and the wafting snow made the hard plaster even more uncomfortable. She couldn’t ignore the constant itch and the way it chafed against her skin.

With every movement, she was reminded of its presence. The worst part was the itch–a relentless, maddening itch that seemed to start deep within the cast. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t reach it. She tried to distract herself, focus on her duties, and push through the discomfort, but the itch persistently clawed at her sanity.

The constant snowfall only added to her torment. No matter how hard she tried to keep it dry, the wetness seeped into the cast, making it heavier and more awkward to move around. The moisture seemed to seep through her very bones, and the cast became a frigid, icy prison around her wrist.

0200 HOURS

The itch had invaded her dreams, tormenting her even in sleep. (Y/n) awoke with a start, her heart racing and wrist throbbing. The relentless itch had woken her from her restless slumber once again, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

In a desperate frenzy, she reached for anything within her reach and found a small stick lying nearby. With trembling hands, she carefully maneuvered the stick into her cast, trying to scratch the insufferable itch that seemed to have a life of its own. Each attempt brought a brief break, but it was never enough.

Feeling the stick hit her skin provided a fraction of relief, but it was short-lived. Her attempts to scratch the unreachable itch only seemed to intensify the desire to pry the cast off her arm. (Y/n) was willing to do anything to be free of this torment.

Frustration boiled within her as she tugged at the edges of the cast, desperate to find a way to escape its confining hold. Tears of pain and anger welled in her eyes as she pulled at the cast with all her might.

“(Y/n)?” Skip asked sleepily, eyes fluttering open at her pained grunts and winces. “What’re you doing?”

“I can’t take it anymore, Skip,” she choked out. “This cast…it’s driving me insane.”

He seemed to fully wake up at the sight of her frantic eyes. “Hey, hey, hey. You’re alright,” he urged, pulling her left hand from the cast. “I know it’s tough, but you can’t take it off yourself. You could hurt yourself more.”

“But I need relief,” she pleases, tears leaking down her face. “I can’t stand it.

He knew this was long overdue with what happened with Captain Nixon.

That day, as they conversed in the foxhole, the sound of a woman shouting floated through the air. All three of their heads snapped toward the sound, recognizing (y/n)’s voice. Silence filled the foxhole as they listened intently. Hearing his friend’s pained voice, George stood to his feet, prepared to find out what was going on, but he stopped at the appearance of another voice.

“You’ll make it worse, and then you’ll really be useless.”

The boy’s mouths dropped at the statement, each of them coming to the realization that the voice belonged to Captain Nixon. A few moments passed as they looked at each other in disbelief. Although they couldn’t see the pair, they could only imagine what was going down in the distance.

“Useless? Is that what you think of me?”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant-,”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Nixon! If I’m that much of a burden, maybe I should just leave you be, then.”

“I messed up and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You’re not useless, but you’re hurt, and you need to be careful.”

“But you did say it, Lew. You said it. And I need to be careful? Careful so I don’t get in the way?”

“No, careful so you don’t hurt yourself more.”

“Right, because I’m so fragile.”

“That’s not what I meant. Please, (y/n), listen.”

“I can’t do this right now. I need some space.”

A few moments later, George saw her appear in the distance, and he ducked back down into the foxhole. His eyes flicked between Skip and Alex who shared the same pain in their chest at the sight of (y/n) wiping tears from her face with her gloved hand.

“We didn’t hear anything,” Skip whispered, pointing his sock-covered hand at his friends. “Nothing.

As Skip looked down at the woman before him, his mind drifted back to his little sister, Ruth, and the many times he’d held her close as she cried. He loved her to pieces, and (y/n) reminded him of her more than he’d like to admit. Remembering what had worked with Ruth, he carefully wiped away her tears and pulled her to his side, allowing her to bury her face into his chest as he stroked her hair soothingly.

“I know, (y/n),” he murmured. “We’ll get you some help, I promise. But for now, you need to keep the cast on. Trust me.”

Reluctantly, she nodded against his chest, allowing his comforting presence to bring a sliver of calm to her anxiety-ridden mind.

“Have I ever told you about my little sister, Ruth?” he whispered, looking at the stars above them.

She shook her head against his chest. “No.”

“Ruth…she’s the light of my life. I love Faye more than I can even explain, but Ruth, she’s my baby sister and she means everything to me.”

(Y/n) listened to the steady thrum of his heart as he continued to talk, his chest rumbling with each word.

“She’s only three years younger than me, so when we were kids, we basically did everything together. As we got older and I got different part-time jobs, I loved to take her out and spoil her. Our dad left us to travel the country and perform his music, so she didn’t have any man in her life besides me. I always made sure she knew how she was supposed to be treated.”

Her heart swelled, hearing the pure adoration in his voice as he spoke about his beloved sister. The itch seemed to fade slightly, her mind getting caught up in Skip’s story.

“Every dance we went to as teenagers, I would buy her a new dress, and she’d always iron my clothes just the way I liked them,” he paused, peering down at (y/n) with a smirk. “It may be hard to believe looking at me now, but I am usually very put-together.”

“You’re right,” (y/n) chuckled softly, her tears drying on her cheeks. “I can’t picture it.”

Rolling his eyes, Skip smiled at the ground. “I miss her so much. I can’t wait to give her a big hug after all this. I’m half-expecting Faye to ask her to be her maid of honor for the wedding.”

(Y/n) sat up, her eyes widening. “You proposed?”

“Not officially,” he shook his head. “But she knows I plan to the second I step foot in Tonawanda.”

“I better be invited,” she smirked, slouching against his side again, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Skip squeezed her shoulder with a scoff. “I couldn’t imagine not inviting you, (y/n/n). You’re like my second little sister, even if you’re older than me.”

“And you’re all like brothers to me,” she yawned, eyes fluttering shut. “Love you,” she slurred, sleep finally welcoming her at last as she was held in the brotherly embrace of Skip Muck.

“I love you, too, squirt.”

Skip felt her breathing even out, and he sighed to himself. He’d be lying if her behavior didn’t worry him, but all he could do at the moment was keep her close and wait until morning to sort everything out. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the hard, frozen ground he’d used as a pillow for the past three weeks. For some reason, the cold didn’t seem to bother him as much as he drifted off to sleep. Ruth’s sweet smile and laugh replayed in his mind, and a lonesome tear trickled from his eye, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

A/N: all the things that Skip said about him and his sister are TRUE! their dad left them when they were young to be a traveling country musician, and Skip later got different part-time jobs to help his family any way he could. His favorite thing to do was spoil his little sister. my research didn't find the actual age difference between them, so I made the three-years thing up. Everything else is accurate, down to her ironing his pants just the way he liked. Surprisingly, his parents were German, so he actually spoke fluent German, as well, but kept that quiet during the war. I wish we got to learn more about Skip Muck on the show, so I decided to give a little snapshot of his life, regardless of how hard it was to write it knowing what happened to him. He deserves to be celebrated. He was a hero. All of them were.

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