𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞; eugene roe ✔

PART THIRTEEN

"I don't think you want to hear the rest."

"I do." He said quickly, and then once more time sincerely: "I do."

"Herr Dietrich put his luger to Teo's head and forced the two to engage with each other." I said it without motion, without expression. "He shot the poor girl afterwards."

The medic allowed his head to fall again, but instead onto its side this time.

"He dreamt about it for a very long time. They left eventually, as everything did from those early years." I fiddled with my fingernails. "But I've never seen him the same since. How many times he has cried in my arms, fell asleep in pain, sat there with a blank stare. I think that's why he..."

Eugene didn't need me to finish.

"I told you that you wouldn't want to hear the rest."

"No, it's..." He licked off the dryness of his lips. "It's okay. I'm glad you did."

"You are?"

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "I like hearing you talk."

"You do?"

He bobbed his head. "It clears things up a bit."

I listened to our surroundings, to the flush of the water against the stone stairs and further along the bank. The clouds in the distance continued to move in.

"Does this happened often?"

"I can't remember that far."

"I said it earlier, I think; I have something which could help." I offered, "Do you want it?"

"I don't know."

"Are you hungry?"

He glanced upwards, like a despondent child who hadn't experienced affection for quite some time. I stood up and ascended the stairs, the medic following on slowly behind. I made sure to hold the door open for him, to allow him all the time in the world. Even after we were both inside, I still didn't click it shut, the air flow providing a needed presence which no-one else could fill. Upstairs, the floor boards wailed under the aggressiveness of someone's feet, mimicking the faint cry of a babe.

"I-"

Eugene nodded, supplying that same understanding I never knew I craved, and moved into my grandmother's room, setting down his combat jacket. A string of irritation bursting into my veins, I ran up the stairs, stopping at a door in the furthest right hand corner and tapping it gently with a knuckle. The person inside was shushing the babe, murmuring a curse at my interruption. When the door swung open, her eyes glistened.

"Oh, it's only you, I thought I had woken Sascha."

"Why aren't you in bed, Ida?" I questioned the woman quietly.

She was a mother to a newborn, one of those I had described to Winters. In her arms was a baby boy, Armin, squalling out as loudly as humanely possible.

"He will not stop crying, I don't know what to do." She removed a hand from her son to wipe away a tear from her own cheek. "Sorry if I woke you, Valentina. I am trying but he won't be quiet."

"It's all right, Ida, I was never asleep in the first place." I smiled warmly. "Why don't you hand him here? You get some sleep."

"No, I could never ask that of you-"

"It is my pleasure. Take the opportunity."

She examined the boy in her arms and then, reluctantly, held him forward. I curled my arms around him, immediately shushing and stroking my thumb against his temple.

"I don't know how to thank you, Valentina. For all of this."

"Get some sleep. That is enough thanks as it is."

Ida kissed her son goodbye and stepped back, watching as I pivoted and disappeared back downstairs. Armin's cries turned into whimpers, short bursts of discomfort.

"Forgive me." I said as soon as I entered my grandmother's room.

Eugene's lips tilted, "Who is this?"

"Armin." I answered. "He is not having a great night. Neither is his mother."

He, like Joe, had first guessed the child to be my own. Rocking my arms, I leant down and pecked the babe's forehead every now and then.

"I like it."

"Do you..." I thought about what I was going to propose. "Do you want to hold him?"

His eyes sharpened.

"Just while I get you that food."

He didn't respond. I moved closer, extending my arms into his. His shoulders were tense, his hands delicately pressing against Armin's coverlet. As I stepped back, his eyes remained fixated on the boy, afraid any other action would cause tremendous damage.

Alice had cooked up a stew for dinner, something with chicken and bacon and potatoes. I poured a ladle or two into a bowl, cutting up a slice of bread for myself and lathering it with butter. I reatreated into the room rapidly, placing down a bowl and bread next to the mugs of milk and honey. I started to speak, narrating the meal and its contents, how glad Alice was to be cooking again with actual ingredients, but stopped when I stood straight, finding Eugene's gaze still directed towards Armin. His arms had moved, now enveloped around the boy, fists stuffed into his sleeves - he didn't want to make a wrong move, allow Armin to embrace the feeling of his skin and never want it to leave. The glint in his eye said it all.

"Look at him." The medic said in an undertone, not even taking a second to face away or glance elsewhere.

"I think he likes you." I beamed, kneeling down, thankful his wails were now silenced.

"You do?"

"I do." I smiled more, at how much we had used that phrase in the last hour.

A wholeness was about him again, the previous threat having dissipated into the air. I spoke about Armin a little. Then about how his mother would be gladdened.

"I knew I was right, Gene."

His dog tags swayed slightly. "With what?"

"You don't want to hurt people. That's never your intention."

He found a summary in my words, a conclusion of past events which maybe he'd reveal in the future. As of then, he stayed focused on Armin, at the boy who brought him back together again.