Took way to long to find the motivation to write this.
Word count; 2,172
Frances
We walked together back to 1st Platoon's billets, knuckles brushing as our arms swayed.
"Can I ask you something?"
He almost chuckled, "Yes?"
I could barely see his face in the dark - perhaps not at all if it weren't for the constant presence of a cigarette, the lanterns that plagued the streets - but I pictured his smirk, nearly antagonising.
"Does any of this feel real, to you?"
He didn't answer yet, sensing there was more.
"I keep remembering things. Small pieces." I explained. "And being here, away from there, it feels..."
"Wrong?" He supplied, taking his cigarette away from his lips. "I get it."
"You do?"
He nodded, "It feels better when... when I'm with you."
My smallest finger hooked onto his briefly, and following his words I decided to intertwine our hands. He looked down at our palms, squeezing gently.
"Listen, Frances." His voice was rough, like he needed to cough out the smoke. "What do you want from this?"
Something in my centre fell, as if perhaps all of this was some kind of sick joke.
"Isn't there some kind of rule o-or protocol about... this. About... us." Another awkward chuckle, "I just... I don't want to put you in a position where we lose... this. Not again."
The feeling intensified, still wary. At no point had I thought about protocol or rule. Sensing my caution, he halted, pivoting to stand in front of me, breaths hitting my forehead. We stood in silence for a while; he blew the smoke over his shoulder, I stared at our feet.
"I just," He cleared his throat. "I don't know what it is, Frances. When you're around, I can't take my eyes off of you. When you're not, I can't think of anything else. I start doubting everything. I wonder where you are, if you're okay or if you're in trouble. My mind's a mess. Will you please look at me?"
My gaze shot up.
"Do you hear anything I'm saying?"
"I hear everything you're saying." I was partially annoyed that he thought I wasn't.
"Then why are you so quiet?" He said delicately.
You. I wanted to say. Because I love your voice and don't want mine to plague yours.
"You ask protocol." I said, matter-of-fact. "Protocol is made to protect me from those around me. To prevent..."
His head darted away, flooded with memories from a bleaker time.
"I can't..." I sought for the right word. "I have to stay..."
His eyes focused back on me, widened as he realised what I was inferring.
"You know the U.S. Army." I attempted to lighten the mood. "Women in combat is a push, pregnant women is a bit further..."
He laughed, "God, Frances..."
"It's true." I beamed.
"Well..." His brows furrowed.
"What?"
He pursed his lips, "How... would they know?"
"Joseph!"
"I'm being serious!"
"I-I-" I watched snowflakes collect on his eyelashes. "You think I would-"
"I can be persuasive."
My jaw dropped, "I cannot believe you."
"Well, how would they know? Let's say there were no consequences..."
"Please, be quiet." I rolled my eyes.
"Nevertheless," He stomped on his cigarette. "I don't want to get a fuckin', I don't know, demotion... o-or court marshal for being caught kissing you. God forbid holding your hand."
"Careful, Corporal, if you continue on the path you currently follow, holding my hand may not change a thing."
"On that note," He reached into his pocket. "Do you want this or not?"
He held up the tiger keychain, barely visible in the nighttime atmosphere.
"You can't seem to hold onto it very well." He chuckled. "And it is a bit battered."
Another roll of the eyes, "Yes, I want it."
Passing it over, "I never liked that cereal."
"It's my favourite."
And like that, we carried on. I imagined us in the future, sat at our kitchen table, eating breakfast together; I pour my cereal into my bowl, whilst he munches on toast and tobacco.
When we approached the door of 1st Platoon's building, he halted abruptly, causing me to nearly bash into his back. He turned around, playfully mocking my carelessness, before darting forward at my threat of stealing his cigarette lighter. Then, reaching the next floor, he stopped at the beginning of the stairwell.
"How are we going to do this?"
"Do what?" I whispered back.
"You can't just say you got a promotion. You gotta' make something out of it."
"Joseph, I am way too tired-"
"Frances, I do not care." He tutted. "It's either we have some fun, or I pull you in there and kiss you in front of everybody. Which is it?"
"Are you blackmailing me?" I frowned.
"I call it bargaining."
"You do not know how to bargain, hon."
"All right then," He seized my hand, whisking us both away.
I dug my heels into the ground, "Wait, wait, wait."
"That's what I thought." His lips nearly grazed my nose with how close he was.
"What do you suggest?"
"Say you're going home."
I gasped, "You're cruel!"
"Hey, keep your voice down." He huffed. "Say you're going home, that Battalion wanted nothin' more to do with you, then show them the stripes. Turns out they wanted nothing from 2nd Lieutenant Kennedy."
I shook my head.
"Or we can-"
"I don't know what's worse." I beamed; I hadn't seen this side of him until now, and I lived for every part of it.
"How about both?"
I glowered, only for him to give me the same baitful regard, "No!"
"Why not?"
"How is it that we have had nearly three arguments in the past thirty minutes?"
"Because I'll do anything to see that look you give me all the damn time."
"What look?"
He prompted his brows, and something ignited in my abdomen.
"Fine."
"Fine?" He questioned, evidently confused.
"I'll say I'm being sent home."
"Then you'll kiss me?"
"It's been a long war, hasn't it?" I teased his eagerness.
"So fucking long."
And like that, my hand was in his again, being dragged towards 1st Platoon. When he let go, prepared for me to take the lead, I turned around.
"I can't do this." I answered his look of concern.
"C'mon, it's only-"
"Can't we just go outside?"
His pupils batted between mine. The fact was, I didn't want the night to end.
"Just us two?"
"Dammit, Frances." He smiled genuinely. "You could ask me to kill a man and I would, no second thought."
We both remembered another memory; I already had.
Morning came sooner than any of us could've expected; in the time that Easy Company had settled in the Displaced Persons Camp, the reality of the war hadn't drifted, the continuous snow a reminder of Bastogne and everything that lingered there.
Unlike the many nights before - when Joe would fall asleep in the chair beside my field hospital bed - we slept arm in arm together, wrapped up in a blanket he had stolen off of Luz, sat upright as his injuries were yet to allow him to lie down. We were on the ground floor of 1st Platoon's billets, in a room at the very rear of the apartment block, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of the wakening camp. The second I moved, his eyes darted open, whether from uneasiness or the cold.
"Sorry." I smiled, neck aching from leaning on his shoulder.
"What time is it?" He permitted for his eyes to close again.
Lacking my original watch, I picked up his wrist to examine the time, "8 o'clock."
He made a noise of discontent. I scooted across the floor, only for him to seize my smallest finger in argument.
"Sleep a while." I said softly. "I'm not going any where far."
He mumbled something; I pecked his knuckles and he let go of mine.
Outside, a coat of white covered the roads, thickened over night. To the right of the entrance of the apartment block, a medic had squatted, leisurely puffing on a cigarette as snow collected on his helmet.
"Good morning."
He glanced upwards, smiling lightly as he realised it was me. Just like that, we were both in Jacques Woods, almost strangers again.
"Hello." Eugene responded, butting his cigarette into the ground.
"You look like you've been up all night."
He nodded to the middle floor of the building behind us, "I wait for them to clear out. Then I go sleep for a couple hours."
"I see."
His head declined, focusing on something enclosed in his fist.
"I owe you a thank you." I squatted beside him, wanting to clear the air.
"Always." The medic answered simply.
"Not just for that." I swallowed.
"Always." He repeated; he knew of the attachment between Liebgott and I, thus why he would stand guard whilst Joe visited me in the field hospital. "You're good for each other."
"You really think that?"
"Since Aldbourne." He smiled again. "The morning after you arrived, when he got into that fight with Guarnere. You dragged him to first aid, regardless of his stubborness or self-righteousness."
"I remember."
"And then when you made them do that task with the planks and the tyres."
"I remember." I giggled.
"And on the train. When he and Heffron almost drunk themselves to death. You were there."
"You remember all of that?"
"All of it." He sighed. "It's some of the only things that I can."
"I struggle too." I nudged him with my elbow. "And I'm in the army for my memory, so..."
He chuckled, "I won't tell if you won't."
I observed his clenched fist, "What's that?"
Immediately, he revealed his palm, a small compass within it.
"You still have it?" I beamed.
"It's all I can think about. That day."
I began to reply, only for a rumble of voices to enter the hallway of the block behind us, followed by a sound similar to that of logs falling down stairs. Eugene, once possibly startled, stayed still. A group of men stumbled outside, some lighting cigarettes, others asking for lighters, a few kicking boots against the wall.
"Why the hell can't we smoke inside? All for-" A soldier began, before he turned around and saw me crouched beside Eugene.
"That's why." Martin entered the doorway.
I looked up at him, "Morning, Sergeant."
"Hey, darlin'," He said carelessly, brows furrowed together from a morning of restlessness and hearding soldiers. "It's all good, Doc."
The medic bobbed his head, huffing as he stood upright. I copied his movements, watching him as he vanished into the billet.
"All good?" Johnny probed, more towards mine and Eugene's conversation.
"You banned them from smoking inside, hon?" I changed the subject.
"Well, you don't smoke. Ain't fair to have you breathing in all that dirt."
"My papa has smoked indoors my whole life. And his tobacco is a lot richer than yours."
"Proves my point."
"Wait, wait, wait." Luz emerged from Johnny's shadow. "Can you write that down. Initial and signature, please."
"Shut up, George." Martin pushed his palm against Luz's nose.
"Well," I thought about the night before. "It won't be an issue for much longer."
"How so?"
"I'm," The words came out sourly. "I'm being sent home."
His stare snapped towards me, as if he was prepared to fight whoever made such a decision.
"What?"
"Battalion interviewed me. They deem it that I... shouldn't be here anymore. Spiers has no authority."
At this point, half of the platoon had circled me.
"You're serious?"
"They gave me the chance to say goodbye this time, though."
"There has to be some kind of mistake," George frowned.
"You know Battalion, Luz." Shifty supplied.
"Can't you convince them otherwise? Anything?" Johnny crossed his arms.
"I tried." I slipped my hand into my pocket slyly. "They just... they want nothing to do with 2nd Lieutenant Kennedy."
I exposed my hand, the metal stripes within. In the corner of my eye, I noticed George's jaw drop, Shifty's lips curl.
"You're not funny." Martin said sternly.
"1st Lieutenant Kennedy." Luz came forward again. "Now that's badass."
"One word has changed, George..." Powers raised a brow.
"And?"
I laughed, "You should've seen your faces!"
"You're going to give me high blood pressure." Martin rolled his eyes. "Congratulations."
"This calls for a celebration."
"No, it doesn't." The Sergeant told off his subordinate. "We have orders."
"And we have a 1st Lieutenant."
An argument persued. Martin excused himself - and the whole platoon - off to breakfast, whilst I returned inside. Still in the same position, Joe shot up as he heard my footsteps enter the chamber.
"You missed it."
"Missed what?" He croaked.
"I said I was going home."
"And?"
"They fell for it." I grinned, taking a seat back next to him. "But I couldn't help it. I gave up instantly."
"Damn." His head sunk onto my shoulder.
"What?"
"Nothing." He smirked, eyes shut again. "Nothing, nothing, nothing, sweetheart."
I planted my lips on his temple swiftly. We stayed like that for a while.