Shadows of the World » Band of Brothers

27: Of What Use

"Of what use was it to be loved and lose one's beauty and become Real if it all ended like this? And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground." - Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

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Tom, Will, and Martin all resolved to gather in Juliette's room later that evening before they left for the pub. True to her prediction, it hadn't taken much to convince Martin to go, though William had insisted for a fair while that he would stay behind to keep Juliette company. She could tell he still felt so guilty for her injuries, regardless of how much the others had tried to assure him that it wasn't his fault.

Martin led them in with two bottles of whiskey clutched in his hands and Tom followed closely behind with three glasses (Alexis had told them in no uncertain terms that Juliette was not to have any), whilst Will trailed in last wearing a sheepish smile. Juliette made sure to send him a bright smile to reassure him that she wanted him to go and that she didn't much mind about being left behind.

"Well, don't you lot clean up well?" she drawled with a low whistle. They all laughed as they gathered around the end of her bed and made themselves comfortable.

"Yeah, hopefully we'll get some of the attention now that you're not coming," Will remarked. She giggled.

"Hoping to snag a paratrooper, Will?" she teased. He rolled his eyes with a smile.

Tom handed a glass to Martin and Will after having filled them all, and they all downed them in one after toasting to Jules, which made her giggle. Tom sent her a grin.

"You gonna be alright by yourself, trouble?" Martin asked, and Jules laughed.

"I'm not by myself - Alex is here. But regardless, yes, I will be. Just spare me a thought when you're knocking back shots like it's your last night on earth, okay?"

"You'll be with us in spirit," Tom promised, and they shared a smile.

"Oh! That reminds me," Martin suddenly exclaimed. He left the room briskly before returning moments later with three books in his hands. He set them down in Juliette's lap before joining the other boys at the end of the bed once more, who were watching her expectantly.

A wide smile overcame Juliette's features. "You found some!" she cheered, spreading them out on top of the sheets.

"Yeah. I'm not much of a reader myself -" he began.

"You don't say?" Thomas cut in sarcastically, earning himself an almighty shove.

"- but the woman in the shop said they were alright, so... I hope they're alright." He offered a slight smile which Juliette returned with her own beaming one.

The first book was a classic which she had, coincidentally, never read: 'Moll Flanders' by Daniel Defoe. She traced the outline of the gold lettering on the front carefully, in awe of its luminescence in the dying light from the window. The second was 'The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde' by Robert Louis Stevenson, a book her mother had often spoken of fondly for how intrigued she had been by it in her youth. Jules thought she would probably like that one very much.

When she looked to the last book she let out a small gasp, dropping the others in place of picking up the third immediately. "My mum used to read this to me when I was little," she told the boys quietly. She didn't draw her eyes away from it even for a second. "It was always my favourite."

"What is it?" Will asked. She smiled softly.

"'The Velveteen Rabbit'," she told them. She pushed the sudden tears which had formed in her eyes back as far as she could, but the nostalgia was so sudden, so strong, so unexpected. It looked to be the same copy her mother had had, the cover identical. Juliette clutched the book tightly in both hands and smiled up at Martin. "This is incredible, Martin. Really. Thank you." She hoped he could understand the sincerity of her gratitude; having this book was like having a small piece of home where she'd otherwise been able to take nothing at all with her. That was worth everything.

Martin smiled back at her and didn't say anything, which made Jules think that perhaps he could see how much his gifts had warmed her, though she knew he would never know the half of it.

It was only a little while later that the three men had to leave, and she shooed them out with a smile, calling after them to send the Americans her love and to not have too much fun in her absence lest they never invite her again. Once she had heard the front door slam, which told her that Thomas had obviously been the last out, (that boy and slamming the bloody door, I swear, she thought with a grin) she settled back against the pillows that had been propped up against the bed's headboard and ran gentle fingers over the cover of 'The Velveteen Rabbit'. She could almost hear her mother's gentle voice reading the title to her as she sat by her bedside, always willing to read the book over and over again to Jules whenever she had asked.

When she flipped to the first chapter and began to read, a single tear slipped out.

'There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid.'

Her mother's voice saying the words in her head was so visceral and so gentle it was as though it wasn't even a memory. In that moment it felt as though her mother really was there, sat at her bedside and reading the story aloud to her to make her feel better after all she had gone through. Jules had to close the book lest her tears ruin the pages, and as she sat there she began to cry.

Clutching the book tightly to her chest, silent sobs wracked her body, her eyes squeezed tight shut against the onslaught of tears. She tried to ignore her homesickness at all costs, and it often worked, but in the face of something so personal, so directly related to home and all that it had stood for, she couldn't ignore it any longer.

It had been six years since she had last seen her mother. Six years since she had left home to become a code breaker, under the guise of being needed to work in a munitions factory.

It had been five since her parents had been told that she was dead.

Juliette pressed a hand firmly against her mouth as her sobs became audible. Her grief for all that she had left behind pierced through the air as though to kill the silence that had hurt her for all of the comfort it couldn't provide.

Into the silence of the room Juliette sobbed for the person that she had become, and for the person that she had lost. She sobbed for the home she likely would never return to, and for the home that she had found with her friends for how easily that, too, could be taken from her.

How one small book which had brought her so much happiness as a child now wrought so much pain made her truly realise that the person she had been, the person her mother had known, was no more. That version of Juliette was dead and would never be resurrected.

Jules forced herself to calm down, breathing shaky deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth until her heart rate had slowed and the tears had stopped flooding. She sucked in one last breath, nodding to herself as if to assure herself that she was okay, before opening her eyes.

Alexis was stood in the doorway. She hadn't even heard him open the door.

He was watching her with a guarded expression she would have mistaken as blank if she didn't know him so well. But because she did, she could see the sadness in it. The sympathy.

She looked away.

Alex didn't say anything, and he didn't try to console her. He crossed the room in two quick strides and perched on the end of her bed, his eyes never straying from her face until they caught sight of the book still pressed against her heart. He wouldn't have understood its significance, but something in his eyes when Juliette looked back at him acknowledged that he understood its value. Those eyes were filled with such concern she could hardly bear to look at them.

Tentatively, he held out his hand to her. Juliette barely even acknowledged it until he uncurled his fingers, realising he wanted her to hold it.

Shakily, Juliette reached out and placed her hand atop his.

And so they sat there, in perfect silence, holding hands and waiting as night settled in, the low lighting of the room soon devolving into darkness. After a period of time Alex squeezed her hand, standing up from the bed to draw the curtains closed and then turn on the lamp, which sat on her bedside table.

He picked up the book and began to read to her.

'"There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid.'"