quillandink22 - Tumblr blog

quillandink22 · 2 months ago

Text

phantom of delight — joseph liebgott x fem! OC

Part VII

title: I’m not some monster.

summary: Eleanor Verbeken had no qualms about jumping headfirst into a war zone— hell no, anything to escape malvern and her pa. Living a life dictated by the ghost of a woman and the troubled, perpetual soldier left behind, her fate was written the moment the planes graced the skies above pearl harbour. An experimental woman for an experimental division, seems only fitting; it’s a pity others don’t seem to agree.

warnings/disclaimer: I have the utmost respect for veterans, and anyone who has served their country in any capacity. with that being said, this work is solely reflecting the characters as portrayed by hbo and their respective actors, and not in anyway connected to or meant to disrespect the real men whose stories influenced band of brothers. this part contains swearing, smoking, era typical misogyny, and violence.

word count: 11.9K

taglist: @fromjupitertocentauri @lanadelray1989 @bridgertonbee1814 @chanshugsaretherapy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @nothing----personal @torchbearerkyle @sxalbatf

•••

June-July 1944

The march from Culoville to Carentan had taken several hours, only slowed further by the mismanagement of Fox Company’s officers. They’d marched through the night, and it was only when the sun had returned to the sky the following morning that the overgrown woods had teetered out into uneven and shrapnel blasted roads.

Fox had yet to disappear again, and Nora could see their assembled forces ahead of them on the road. Dog was somewhere further back, guarding the rear.

“Ils doivent mieux dégager le bon bâtiment,” Roe’s words were barely above a whisper, and a quick glance to Nora’s right revealed that he had been staring ahead at the company leading them same as she had been, “Penses-tu qu'y peuvent faire ça?”

Eleanor snorted, though worry tugged at her ribs, her chest tightening as their monotonous march continued, “I hope so, Lucky bastards— faut pas courir partout.”

“What are you two bein all secretive about?” Malarkey whispered, a brow quirked as he stared between them. The three of them were in a row, and Mal slung his pack up further on his shoulder as Nora rolled her eyes.

“Just Fox’s inability to remember their directions.” She whispered back, and Don shrugged, “Yeah well, better them in front than us.”

“So we end up in the wrong place?”

“Nah, so they get hit first if they march us into an ambush.”

His flippant tone settled uncomfortably in Eleanor’s shoulders, and she nodded before turning her head back in front of her, their brief whispers once again replaced by the marching of boots against gravel.

They’d paused in the middle of the night after Fox’d gone off course, resting and eating amidst flame licked brush and muddy grass before their walk to the inevitable resumed. They’d be taking Carentan, General Taylor had sent the whole division. Eleanor and Roe had settled into a small gathering of trees before Winters had found them, enunciating the plan for once the three companies reached their objective.

Of course, Easy only had two medics. No surgeon either, as the poor man had ridden with HQ just as Jansen had. Fox only had two at the moment as well, but they still had their surgeon. Dog was lucky enough to have all of their medical personnel accounted for.

Scouts had gone ahead of them while Strayer was still setting up CP at Culoville in the immediate aftermath of the jump into Normandy. There was a small apothecary on the edge of Carentan, a pale blue building relatively untouched by artillery, and it’d be up to Fox to secure it so their medics could run in and transform it into an aid station. F would be in charge of the domain, standing in wait with the Battalion’s surgeons for the wave of wounded to cross the threshold while Easy and Dog’s medics stayed on the ground.

Dog Company got the short end of the stick, commanded to stay on the line and treat on the spot— Roe and Eleanor were informed by Winters that they’d be the go between. Out in the streets, yes, but evacuation efforts as well. If they found a man who couldn’t be treated on the street they were the middle tier of personnel who’d oversee the move and treat them back at the station.

Still, Eleanor slightly envied the F company medics who’d be indoors. Her feet ached, and the sun bore down on them as its bright rays etched higher in the sky as the hours passed and their march furthered. She drummed her fingers against her muddied pant legs as they reached a fork in the road, and Fox Company separated to go in the opposite direction. Eleanor swallowed, that meant Carentan was less than a mile away. Fox would be entering from the rear.

“Resume positions!” Welsh called out, and Eleanor squeezed Eugene’s arm as the columns of soldiers became muddled, chosen walking partners abandoned to re-organize themselves by their assigned squads.

Eleanor held her helmet down as she hurried towards Lip’s slow-marching frame. He was still their acting Staff Sergeant, and he offered her a tightlipped smile as she fell into step with him. Eleanor felt Tab slide in next to her, his rifle jostling against her shoulder as the purposeful march resumed.

“Roe and I are on the ground and helping with evacs.” She said softly, and Lip nodded, turning his head towards her slightly, “Good, try to enter last— between some of the men if you can, we’ll be entering from the west if all goes to plan.”

Eleanor hummed in acknowledgement, nodding as Lipton turned behind them, “Smokey, you and More get the extra rounds from Winters?”

“Yes sir.” Gordon said, and Eleanor heard his half of the machine gun clink against his helmet as he hoisted it further up his back. Eleanor swallowed harshly, the collar of her dirty OD’s scratching against her throat.

“Good, I want Liebgott and Petty on rifles, at least until we know more— your main concern is finding high ground, clear?”

“Say no more Lip.” Alton hummed from behind her, and Eleanor quirked a brow as Floyd nudged her arm.

“Are you and Lieb still bein all weird?” He asked, and Eleanor stared at him incredulously, “That’s what you’re asking me right now?”

Tab shrugged, “I dunno, feels like I’ve barely seen ya since I got back.”

Eleanor sighed, turning away from him. She wasn’t avoiding Floyd, not consciously— but he’d been glued to Joe and Chuck since he’d waltzed in the morning before.

“You’ve only been back a day Tab.” She hummed, and he tutted, “Yeah but what about when we get back to England, no more movie dates?”

“I’ll go see a flick with you,” She whispered, conscious of the noise discipline that was supposed to be in effect as they marched on. “Besides, a bit early to be thinking about England, no?”

Tab smirked, “Yeah, yeah.”

Easy had stopped marching, and Eleanor stumbled as she nearly walked into Bill in front of her. His head swivelled to glare, though the expression remained half formed when he realized it was only her.

“You tryna push me in the dirt?” He quipped, and Eleanor rolled her eyes as she opened her mouth to retort, though Lipton’s narrowed eyes rendered her speechless.

Running. First platoon had begun to run up the hill when sharp cracks littered the air, the ground shrouded in dust and quick feet as bodies threw themselves into trenches by the roads edge.

Eleanor’s breath caught in her throat as her head hit the dirt, her helmet strap yanking against her neck as Winters’ scratched voice began screaming. Really screaming, in an aggressive, desperate tone that sounded bone-chilling leaving the normally collected man’s mouth. Bullets, there was a sniper somewhere, and Tab’s weight against her back muddied any coherent thoughts as Lieutenant Winters ran through the open road like a mad man, arms flailing and voice hoarse as crouched soldiers began to move.

“Get yourselves out of those trenches!” He screeched, and Eleanor panted as she climbed over Gordon to rise to her feet, “We have men getting killed out there!”

Smokey’s hands tugged at her pack as he attempted to right himself, and Nora gasped as the accidental pull nearly sent her toppling. They were a mess of limbs and equipment, Lipton dragging them up and out of the ditch with trembling hands,

“On me— Heads down!” He panted, and Eleanor nodded as they abandoned the rubble filled road, boots flattening dirt and grass as they cut across the field to find another way in. The rain in Normandy had been unrelenting, and large puddles littered the ground. Eleanor cursed as she sucked her now-damp boot from a wet patch, the mud clinging to her boots and seeping within.

Eleanor managed to slide in between Alton and Bill, and the assembled platoon hugged the wall of a shaking building as the grass became cement and dust filled the air. Her heart pounded, she’d seen combat— especially now, nearly two weeks after they’d jumped into Northern France. But not like this. Carentan was a calculated assault; fully fledged warfare, not a roadside skirmish.

“Guarnere, clear that sector on the right!” Lip ordered, and Eleanor watched as Bill ran without hesitation, his gun drawn and half the platoon following after him. the building to their left was hit, bricks crumbling as screaming tore Eleanor from her momentary trance.

Medic! Medic!

Her feet moved faster than her mind, and Eleanor ran, legs taut as she dodged debris and lifeless bodies.

“Get out of the fucking road!”

Carentan was a bloodbath, running this way and that, dodging the flying smoke and debris as Kraut artillery saw fit to demolish every building the small, dilapidated French town had left. Everywhere her eye turned Eleanor found another soldier who eyed the Red Cross tied to her arm like a heaven-sent.

Three times. Three times she’d reached a man only for the screams to cease and a pulse disappear. Her jaw felt permanently clenched, steeling herself to find lifeless bodies where there was once life, once no bullet holes. Once all limbs accounted for.

It was a crushing feeling realizing she could only do so much. Eleanor was quick, very fucking quick, but quick feet and fast reflexes could not cheat death, not always. Certainly not against mortar fire.

A blast went off behind her, and Eleanor flinched, tucking her torso over that of the man she knelt over. Pebbles dusted her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut, the soldier below her breathing heavily beneath her, his blood staining her neck and hands.

“I-I don’t wanna die.” He hiccupped, and Eleanor’s brows furrowed as she tore through his jacket with trembling hands, injecting a syrette into the man’s shoulder. She didn’t recognize him, and his uniform was far too dirty to recognize any insignia. Must be Dog, or Fox.

“You’re not going to die soldier.” She muttered as the last of the sulfa packet buried itself in the bleeding hole on his opposite shoulder blade. She pressed her fingers around the wound, grimacing as her hands met shattered bone. Thankfully the bullet had gone clean through.

“I need an Evac!” She yelled, her voice hoarse as she looked over her shoulder, fingers packing gauze into the man’s oozing wound. She couldn’t drag him without angering his already shattered collarbone, his left leg was similarly mangled, the bone protruding and only secured by the makeshift splint she hurriedly finished fastening. That crossed out supporting his weight as he hobbled. “Evac!” She yelled out again, and Nora blinked as the glaring sun seemed to disappear, a shadow replacing it.

“Clean shot through the shoulder, and a shattered tibia,” Eleanor said to the two Battalion stretcher-bearers as they lowered the tattered gurney to the ground. The sun’s glare returned, and Eleanor stood on shaken legs as they nodded, carefully shifting the man onto the supported fabric, “He’s had one syrette already.”

Jumbled nods and conversations followed that didn’t quite reach her ears, the madness surrounding them deafening. Eleanor huffed, standing up again as Lip’s voice carried through the square,

“They got us zeroed! Spread it out, spread it out!”

Artillery fire blasted around her, and Eleanor ran, clutching a busted window frame and slamming against brick as a nearby flak shell nearly sent her flying, “Shit!” She groaned, leaning against the wall. There was glass in her hands.

“Birdie, that you? I need ya!”

She could faintly hear Luz’s voice, though her ears were ringing, the explosion hadn’t been enough to seriously hurt her, but it was close enough to momentarily damage her hearing. She grit her teeth as she pulled a shard of glass out of her palm. It fell to the ground and shattered, and Nora sniffled as she pulled a long piece of gauze from her side bag to wrap around her bloodied hand.

“Birdie? Christ!”

“I-I’m coming.” She yelled, tucking the bandage under itself to secure it, before turning the corner and seeing George by the door.

“You gotta take ‘em.” Hoobler panted, and Nora rushed forward, “Take who?”

“No one’ll shoot if they see your armband,” George said, and Eleanor snuck a glance into the building. Her eyes widened, the little girl trembling against her mother in fear, eyes flitting between the three soldiers and the men’s guns. The older gentleman, the girls grandfather perhaps? kept his eyes to the ground, though his hands shook against the women all the same.

Eleanor leaned against the doorframe, wincing as her bandaged palm met wood, and crouched.

“Hello, venoz avec moi? I’m American,” She paused, pointing to herself as she enunciated the last words, “Tu peux pas rester ici, I will.. I’ll take you un endroit sûr.”

The words felt clumsy as they left her chapped lips, and she flinched as Hoobler began shooting his rifle behind them out into the street,

“Please, Tu peux pas rester ici.” She said sharply, and the older woman nodded, unhooking her arms from the child before dragging her up to her feet. George walked over to help the old man stand, and Hoobler looked over his shoulder as Eleanor began to lead the family out of the building.

“I got covering fire, make it quick.” Hoobler muttered, and Eleanor swallowed harshly as she kept her hand on the old man’s back, pushing him forward as Hoobler looked around, “Okay, go!”

They darted through the muddied and blood stained streets, Eleanor’s arms held high, the Red Cross fully visible as each harsh step jolted through her spine, “Keep going— don’t look around! Blue building, bâtiment bleu!”

Eleanor sputtered, another shell exploding far too close and her balance teetering, “bâtiment bleu!”

The young girl had begun to whimper, eyes looking around at the decimated remains of what Eleanor imagined was once her home. Bodies, blood, crumpled buildings… Nora’s temples ached, a burn behind her eyes as the girls movement slowed as she took more in, horrors that no child had any business even being near.

They couldn’t slow down, not while German eighty-eights poured onto the ruined landscape. Eleanor took in a deep breath, surging forward to grab the girl by the back of her dress,

“Close les yeux— do not open them!” She spat, hooking her hands under the girl’s arms and lifting her, slinging her over her shoulder as the aid station came into view, the large Red Cross that had been hastily painted across it standing out sharply against the pale blue lumber. She felt the child’s face press against her dirty jacket.

Medic! Medic!

Eleanor panted, her arms tightening around the girl as calls for help rang in the air. They reached the blue building, Eleanor lowering the child softly to the ground. It was madness, the never ending demand with such little turnaround. Eleanor didn’t know how to be in several places at once, but somehow her legs managed to carry her there.

“Merci, Merci, Mer—“ The woman cried, her hands reaching to squeeze Eleanor’s shoulders as she shook her head, “—Just go inside mam, please, someone will be able to clean you up, nettoyer.”

Eleanor’s head ached under her helmet, her legs tingling as she swung away from the building and peered back into the street. No more calls for a medic came, and she didn’t know where to look for the voice that had called out. Hopefully Roe or one of Dog’s medics had dealt with it. Nora rubbed her face, the bandage across her hand coming back even more stained. Her other hand ached, and she finally examined it, sighing as she noticed the red dots across her palm. She was so stupid, only paying attention to the large shards, she hadn’t even noticed the smaller chips in her other hand.

“Birdie? Thank God!”

Eleanor looked up at Floyd’s voice, gasping as she took in the appearance of the man limping against him. “You shouldn’t be walking!” She snapped, running forward to hook Lipton’s free arm over her shoulder. The blond man was taller than her, but not enough that he couldn’t sag into Nora’s weight. Lip groaned as Nora spurred Tab to move towards the door to the aid station.

“What the hell happened?” She asked as Tab helped her ease the Sergeant onto a free bed. She looked down, lips pursed as she noticed the pooling blood against the zipper of the man’s pants.

“His junk’s fine, I checked— but there’s a piece a’ flak shell in his thigh.” Tab spoke quickly, and Lipton groaned as Eleanor tore the rip in his pants further, pressing down on the wound to assess it.

“I can still talk for my— goddamn it!” He growled, and Eleanor sighed, “Sorry Lip, Tab, pass me my pack, I threw it over there.” She pointed to the bench at the end of the cot, her hands still digging into the wound. It wouldn’t stop bleeding, and the implication made her shoulders tense. She could feel jagged metal shards beneath her fingers, and she sighed as Floyd placed the pack on the cot in front of her, pressed against the Sergeant’s leg.

“Lip, you gotta take off your pants,” She spat out, and the older man’s eyes widened, “Tab, you’re gonna have to hold him down.”

“Just do it.” Lipton gritted out through clenched teeth, blood dripping from the cut across his cheek as Eleanor helped him shimmy out of his OD’s. The fact that her squad leader was in his skivvies didn’t even register in her brain, her sole focus on the torn skin near his groin. She pulled the leg of his underwear up as far as they could go and he flinched. “Floyd, hold down his legs.” She tutted.

“Jesus, cuttin it a bit close Verbeken.” He groaned, eyes twisted shut as Talbert pressed his legs to the bed and Eleanor’s syrette connected with his thigh. Lipton’s embarrassed tone made Eleanor’s ears redden, though she refused to acknowledge it. Her fingers wrapped around her tweezers as the slightest irritation itched up the back of her neck.

It was only natural, surely, that the man would feel uncomfortable. Eleanor was sure she would feel similarly if the roles were reversed, though would he feel that way if she were Roe? She pushed the thought down as her tweezers plucked the largest piece of shrapnel out of Lipton’s upper thigh. She made quick work of the rest, dropping iodine into the wound as she reached her hand out for Tab to hand her a rag. He did, and she sopped up as much of the blood as she could before sterilizing it with sulfa and wrapping it.

“Stay there.” She said softly, grabbing a spare sheet to throw over him. He thanked her, though didn’t look her in the eye. Her irritation returned, had she not lived in barracks with them for two years? She’d seen the men in their skivvies nearly every goddam day. Maybe it wasn’t about the state of undress, a small part of her wondered, like a menacing, low hiss, Maybe it was about her, and her ability to take care of them.

“What happened to your hands?” Tab asked, and Eleanor’s thoughts retreated from the dark recess that existed in the back of her mind, bearing its teeth whenever it saw the chance. “What?” She asked, and Tab nodded down at her arms. Her eyes flitted downwards, the bandage on her left hand now a dry, crusty brown. Her right hand was littered in small cuts.

She hissed as she peeled the gauze away from her palm, tossing it behind her before tearing open a fresh sulfa packet with her teeth and sealing it against her hand with a fresh bandage. She looked up at Floyd as she wrapped it, “It doesn’t matter, I’m fine.”

She walked past him, peering out the somehow still intact window by the door. The sight was much the same as it had been when she had been out there, and the reminder startled her. What was she doing inside, moping around and worrying about her hand? She made for the door, barrelling through it as the muffled sounds from within the building once again became more visceral, eliciting subconscious shudders with each shot.

She hadn’t seen Joey at all, and the realization made her chest tighten. Or Bill, the pair of them having gone off to clear the right sector of town what must have been an hour or more beforehand. Eleanor grit her teeth as she scaled the buildings, Lip’s earlier warnings to stay out of the streets ingrained in her skull as she quickly made her way through the carnage. She checked pulses as she went, still necks and wrists the only response.

The building she was leaning against shook as an explosion rocked its other side, and Eleanor stumbled, hands pressed against the brick as her tongue caught between her teeth. The taste of copper filled her mouth, though Eleanor couldn’t focus on it, spitting red tinged spit on the ground as a voice screamed,

“Tipper! Tip— Tipper!” it paused, and Eleanor slammed her hand against her ear as though to unclog it, “Answer me, Tip!”

The next cry came for a medic, and Eleanor recognized the second voice as her ears stopped ringing, Moe Alley was yelling for a medic. She pushed off the wall with a start, running around the shrapnel pierced building before stopping abruptly, her breath caught in her throat.

“You hang in there buddy,” Liebgott spoke softly, his hands cradling Ed’s unrecognizable head as he leaned it against his own, “We’re gonna get you fixed up, all right?”

If Joe’s voice hadn’t been calling out for Tipper in the immediate aftermath of the blast then Eleanor would have scarcely recognized the man, the right side of his face mangled beyond recognition and soaked in deep red blood.

“Guys, you wanna give me a—“ Liebgott cut himself off as Eleanor surged forward, dropping to her knees in front of them.

“Ed, it’s Verbeken, can you hear me?” She asked, and Tipper’s gasps quieted as he attempted a feeble nod, “Birdie?”

She grit her teeth as she stared at him, eyes scanning his own in almost disbelief. His right eye looked as though it was swollen shut, though the blood and shrapnel that ravaged the brunette’s face scarcely revealed anything. His legs were no better, pants torn and blood soaked as his broken flesh revealed snapped bones and bare muscle.

“You’re gonna be fine Tip.” Liebgott spoke soothingly again, still holding Ed’s head against his own. “Guys, what the fuck are you doing?” He spat as Eleanor injected a syrette into Ed’s exposed shoulder.

She looked back, and Moe and Petty were still standing still, staring down in disbelief. The back of Eleanor’s neck burned in annoyance, “Go get a sheet or something— Christ! Anything we can use to carry him.” She snapped, and the two men were snapped from their trance, running past them and into the house that Tipper had emerged from, the dust clearing.

Joe continued whispering in Ed’s ear as he whimpered in pain, Eleanor’s quick fingers pushing through the tears in his OD’s to check he hadn’t severed anything that spelled fatal, and Liebgott’s hushed voice pricked at her sensitive ears like sharpened pins— an unusual sound amid the dwindling chaos around them. She looked up as the two men returned with an ironing board, her eyes catching the blood now smeared against Liebgott’s cheek.

“Help me move him, carefully.” She muttered, “We gotta be fast, but watch his leg— for fucks sake Petty, what did I just say?”

Tipper howled as O’Neill jostled his ankle against the board, the man looking sheepishly towards her, “Shit, I’m so sorry!”

“Move.” Liebgott tutted, and Eleanor watched as he cautiously shifted Ed’s leg’s onto the board, leaning back to carry it by the head, his fingers brushing against Tipper’s hair. Eleanor grabbed the other end while Petty and Alley manned the sides.

Petty and Moe didn’t linger once they reached the pale blue building, though Liebgott wouldn’t leave Tipper’s side, dragging a spare stool to sit at the head of the cot and continue his soothing brush against Ed’s matted hair. Eleanor couldn’t ponder on it— genuinely, as she whirred around the table attempting to do what little she could until one of the Regiments surgeons could come over. He’d needed more morphine, the standard amount far too little to quell the searing pain. The thought made Eleanor angry, as Tipper shook in pain which each brush of her fingers against his skin.

She’d managed to put his legs into splints, the back of her eyes burning as Liebgott gently shushed him and held him down as she did so, and she’d handed him a wet rag to clean the man’s face. Liebgott had done so softly, continuing to speak to the mostly-delirious soldier in soft tones as Eleanor tweezed the shrapnel out of his legs.

Liebgott hadn’t touched Ed’s inflamed eye, though Eleanor had told him not to. Still, with the rest of his face cleaned as best as Joe could Nora’s initial fears were solidified. Tipper was going to lose his eye; if there was anything left beneath the swollen and marred skin to lose.

Eleanor’s hand shook against the metal pan she’d been using to collect the bloodied shards as Tipper writhed against Liebgott’s bloodstained hands, her head aching as she looked around the station.

Liebgott spared a glance at her, and she quickly looked away when their eyes made contact. Where was the damn surgeon.. she’d done everything she could, the man’s legs were wrapped and splinted, his wounds sterilized and cleaned of shrapnel that could be safely removed. It was his eye that needed immediate attention, though that was a territory that none of them were able to heal. He’d lose it, Nora was sure of it, though she worried that if they waited too long an infection would set in that removing the shredded eye wouldn’t quell.

She discarded the pan on her stool, reaching up to smooth her hand against Ed’s cheek. “I’m gonna go see what’s holding up the surgeon.”

The man was handling an amputation and would be over shortly, was what Eleanor was told. She walked back towards Tipper’s cot dejectedly, Liebgott’s fingers continuing their slow caressing of Ed’s forehead. Nora watched in a strange fascination, now that the dust had cleared and she truly could. They’d taken the town, just barely, but they’d taken it nonetheless.

She’d left Tipper with Liebgott while she’d helped with other wounded, but all was still, finally. He cared for Tipper with a tenderness that seemed foreign to her. In general, yes, but especially so from him. She’d known Liebgott to be many things; rude, funny, somewhat kind… but gentle was not a side of him she’d ever seen. She was almost bewildered such tenderness existed in a man so.. unpredictable. It settled heavy in her stomach, though she couldn’t pinpoint how exactly. So she watched curiously as Liebgott kept the man calm. He was good at it.

“I can feel you starin a hole into the side of my head.” He spoke, and Eleanor turned away, busying her hands with a pile of used rags that needed to be discarded.

They hadn’t spoken since the night they arrived in Culoville. Even then, the words spoken were scarce, Eleanor having no wish to hear whatever guilt ridden words fell from the man’s lips. A small part of her was disappointed he hadn’t made more of an effort. Why? She wasn’t sure. But she’d been thinking about it more recently. Perhaps to hear him say that he had been wrong, she was capable… and have him mean it.

She’d normally scoff at such a thing, though doubts had crept into her addled mind and latched on like a parasite. She was capable, she knew it with each man she treated, though small jabs seemed to balloon into large all-encompassing thoughts. Like Lipton, earlier, and his apprehension at her treating him.

Maybe it was the fact that Liebgott’s opinion of her supposed incompetency was so unwavering. Hearing it refuted from his own lips might quiet her thoughts and restore her former surety. She didn’t know if the thought was a stupid or desperate one. Perhaps both.

“Cmon, what?” He spoke again, his voice still soft, and Eleanor stilled, turning back towards him. His brows were furrowed, mouth twisted as his hand stilled against Ed’s head. Ed couldn’t hear them, not really, the blast rendering his hearing mostly muffled.

“It’s nothing,” She shook her head, “Just.. how gentle you are with Ed— it’s really nice.” She paused again, “Thank you, for helping with him.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, his expression unchanging as he clenched his teeth. Eleanor could see the flexing of the muscle in his jaw as he sniffled. “You say that like you’re surprised or somethin.”

Eleanor sighed, dropping the bandages onto the cot beside Tipper’s splints. “It’s not a bad thing..” She trailed off, Liebgott’s dark eyes staring into hers, “I just wasn’t expecting it I suppose, but I mean it— most of the other guys are out there raiding Kraut rations.”

“It’s not about bein nice,” He huffed, a slight crack in his voice, “I’m a good— I can be a good person Verbeken.” She’d struck a nerve. Somehow, even though she was offering the man a genuine compliment when their most recent exchange of words didn’t exactly warrant one.

“I didn’t say you we—“ She tried, her shoulders stiff as Liebgott stood from the stool, giving Tipper’s hair one last gentle brush-over.

“—I’m not some monster.” He asserted, though his body language seldom matched his tone as he walked away from her and left the aid station, his shoulders sagged and neck tense.

•••

Eleanor’s limbs ached as she left the aid station a few hours later, Tipper safe in the hands of one of the surgeons and the other wounded soldiers taken care of. She was starving, her stomach growling tightly as she shuffled through the field to where the rest of Easy had spread out to relax after the morning’s events. She felt disgusting, dry blood and dirt caked to her skin and filthy OD’s as she spotted Joey’s head of dark hair. They were lounging around, chatting idlely as they tossed rations between them.

“There she is.” Bill whistled, and Eleanor offered a weak smile as she collapsed onto the ground between him and Joey.

“You just leave the aid station?” Joey asked, his eyes trailing her in concern as she nodded, “Yeah, lots to do.”

Her own eyes scanned the men she sat with, an intrinsic reaction she wasn’t completely conscious of until her eyes passed George and reached Frank. Scratches, a couple bruises, but overall fine. They were all fine. She let her muscles relax as she leaned her head against Joey’s shoulder.

“How’s Ed?” Perconte asked, and Eleanor sighed.

“He’ll live,” She muttered, “But he’s going home, his eye’s a goner.”

“Shit really?” George asked, shaking his head as he crossed his legs on the grass.

Eleanor nodded, “Lip’ll be fine, but I think they’re gonna evacuate him.”

She sat up to unzip her pack, rooting through it until her hands clasped around the small pack of stale biscuits she knew were there. She opened the packet and popped one of them in her mouth as the men’s conversation continued around her. She ate silently, her head jostled each time Joey spoke or shook with laughter at whatever they were saying.

He didn’t push her off of him, letting her rest against him. Eating did little to quell the heavy feeling deep in her gut as she watched the men around her. Buck had come to sit with them once she’d reached her third biscuit.

Eleanor hadn’t seen Roe yet, but she knew the quiet medic had left the aid station before she did. Then again, he didn’t integrate himself with the rest of them like she did. Like Ken had. Oh Ken. Eleanor’s heart tightened as the blond man came to her mind again for what must have been the millionth time since they’d arrived two weeks before. Eugene got along with everyone well enough, but he seldom hung around with the soldiers like Nora did, preferring his own company when the rest of them went out drinking, or sat around and chatted. It was something that bothered Eleanor before, a small thought in the back of her mind she couldn’t wrap her head around, but she thinks she might understand it now.

She can’t look at any of them without dread filling her. An anticipatory anxiety for when she may or may not have to take their lives into her own hands. Or worse, find that her efforts are in vain, the smiling faces around her permanently still and quiet. She shifted uncomfortably against Joey’s side as she took another bite of the stale biscuit. If anything happened to him, she didn’t know what she’d do. The thought was a nauseating one.

“Hey, you wanna play rummy?” He asked, and Eleanor sat up, “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanna play,” Joey looked at her with furrowed brows as he held up the battered deck of cards, “Get you outta that head a’ yours.”

“Oh, no thanks.” She shook her head, finishing the last of her biscuit. She grabbed a cigarette from her bag and brought the Lucky Strike to her lips, lighting it and relishing in the smoke as the group descended into the card game.

“That family make it back okay?” Luz asked, his eyes firmly on his cards, though he spared her a quick glance. Eleanor nodded, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“Yeah, Nixon had them evacuated.” She said softly, thinking back to the little girl in her tattered dress, and what she’d seen. She’d come up to Eleanor later, after she’d left Tipper with the surgeon. She spoke no English, and Eleanor’s French was minimal at best, though Nora learned her name was Amélie. She’d thanked her, though Eleanor wasn’t able to shake the look of the small girls haunted eyes from her mind.

A good, good, left George’s mouth. Nora hummed, watching as Frank discarded another one of his cards into the pile between them all, a grin on his face.

Compton chuckled before mimicking the man’s actions, “Don’t you worry Frank, I’m catchin up.”

Eleanor smiled softly at the officer’s teasing. She liked Buck, he seemed alright. He certainly spent more time with them than the other officers did, though the pair of them had never really spoken. In groups, sure, but she sensed an almost apprehension from him. Eleanor tried not to take it personally, she was a woman in a unit of men after all. But her smile dropped as the thought stewed in her head longer than it normally would have. He’d never been rude to her, not like some of the men she now considered to be her friends had been.

Still, it nagged at her as she watched him shuffle his cards across from her, Joey’s voice low in her ear, “Are you good?”

“Yeah, just tired.” She nodded. She ashed her cigarette in the grass as she tucked her legs up to her chin.

“I got mail from Vest yesterday,” Frank hummed, his lips tugging into a smile as he discarded another card, “Didn’t wanna say anything after we left Culoville, but…”

“Alright, out with it.” George smirked, and Eleanor turned towards a grinning Frank.

“I got a son.”

Choruses of congratulations and cheers erupted as the men moved to clap him on the back. Eleanor smiled softly, imagining a small baby that looked like the man across from her. “What’s his name?”

“Richie, after my old man.” He beamed, “I ain’t got any pictures yet, but when I do—“

“— You’ll be showin him off, I got no doubt about it buddy.” Joey cut him off, and Eleanor chuckled as George shook Frank’s shoulders.

“Make sure you show me, I love babies.” Nora hummed, “How’s your wife?”

“She’s doin real good, but I wish I was there, ya know? Kills me thinking about what they’re up to while we’re.. here.”

Eleanor nodded, and Joey cleared his throat, a laugh bubbling—

“Oh you’ll get back, then when the rest of us start havin kids and calling you for help you’ll be wishin we never left.”

Eleanor snorted, though her grin died in her throat as she noticed Bill wasn’t speaking. He was smiling, sure, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Eleanor didn’t doubt Bill was happy for the man, but, she wondered if maybe losing his brother had anything to do with it. A new life was a beautiful thing, but it was hard to be happy about such domestic things when another life was so needlessly taken. She smiled at him, nudging her hand against his leg to snap him out of his stupor.

It seemed to work, and he shot her a small smile before clearing his throat, “God, when I get home the first thing I’m doin is marrying my girl, I ain’t makin her wait a day.”

“Good, give my kid a friend.” Frank teased, shuffling his cards as Eleanor tucked her chin over her knee.

“All the way in Illinois? You can come to Philly pal.”

“Nah, I’m older, you gotta come to Joliet.”

“That makes no goddamn se—“

“Meet halfway, and shut up, it’s your turn Bill.” Buck quipped, smirking as the two men quit their teasing.

Eleanor hummed, thinking about her own future. “You got Joey and I in Pennsylvania, all our kids can hang out.” She joked, and the Philly native nodded, shooting her a wink. “See? I like that, it ain’t Philly, but damn good in my books.”

“You want kids?” George asked, a teasing glint in his eye, and Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Yeah, some day I do.”

“I can’t picture it.” He shook his head, and Eleanor bristled. Frank scoffed, “Whaddaya mean, she takes care of us, a real kid’ll be a walk in the park.”

“Thank you Frank.” Eleanor nodded, and Buck looked up from his cards.

“You’re here though.” He said, and Eleanor shrugged, “So?”

“Nah Buck’s got a point, you’re all independent, if you wanted mainstream you wouldn’t a’ turned down that Limey bastard,” George grinned, “Damn glad you did, imagine if we were down two medics? Jesus.” The other men murmured in agreement.

Eleanor bristled, shifting her arms tighter against her knees. “Yeah well, I don’t want them now.”

George quirked a brow at her, “Cmon, you’re here Birdie, all the other broads are at home writing letters or havin babies.”

“So, what’s that supposed to mean?” She asked. Their words made her uncomfortable. Nora knew they were joking, complimenting her really by saying they’d rather she was there, but it was the underlying tone that made her stiffen. What, since she was there she couldn’t settle down someday? Peter had said as much, accosting her in the pub and suggesting she was a whore. How laughable. If she were it was nobody’s business but her own, but she’d barely even let Peter touch her.

Bill hummed, “I dunno, Luz’s got a point, you’re a soldier.”

“Well I do want to be a mum someday,” She asserted, “And I think I’d be a damn good one.”

“Hey, I said ya would be.” Frank raised a finger, and George shook his head, “I ain’t sayin you wouldn’t be, but you don’t know how men think, no guy’ll be chuffed to marry a badass paratroopin broad.”

George had said the words as though he meant them to convey some sort of admiration, they only made Eleanor’s brows furrow.

“But that’s why ya got us to make sure you don’t end up with some yuck,” George continued, grinning, “You may as well marry one a’ u—“

“— I’m not a whore, if that’s what you’re trying to say.” She spat out, dropping her knees as George’s smiling face morphed into mortified,

“Are you kidding me, of course you’re not!” He sputtered, and Eleanor’s stomach burned as the rest of them started trying to defend whatever goddamn point they were trying to make. “I’m sayin other guys might think that— but we don’t! You’re Birdie, the best goddamn medic we got!”

“And if I was back home writing letters and having babies, the hell does it matter?” She shot back, turning to Frank, “Huh Frank? You gonna say your wife isn’t independent?”

“My wife’s amazing!” He sputtered, “I love her to death!”

“Birdie, this is gettin outta hand, that’s not what we me—“

“—Then what the fuck did you mean?” She cut Bill off, Joey finally breaking his silence to put his hand on her shoulder, “I’m here, aren’t I? I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“Birdie, I’m an idiot, a goddamn idiot, I never mean—“ Joey cut George off,

“Jesus fucking Christ Luz, quit while you’re ahead, all of ya,” He groaned, “Leave her the fuck alone about it.”

That shut them up, the card game seemingly abandoned and Eleanor’s throat tensing. Nobody spoke, and the fact that Joey speaking up seemed to get them all off her back only pissed her off more.

“Birdie I never meant to offend you,” George swore, his hand against his heart, “You’ll be a damn good ma, especially after putting up with us pricks.”

Joey was glaring, an annoyed look on his face to her left. Jesus Christ, why is it they listen to him but not her? He wasn’t her keeper, none of them were.

“It’s fine, it’s stupid really, I’m not mad.” She said, ignoring the way the imaginary band around her temples seemed to squeeze tighter the longer she sat there.

“Anyways, cheers to Perco’s kid.” Buck offered awkwardly, the rest of them nodding in agreement. Eleanor’s was half formed.

“Yeah.”

Joey’s hand on her shoulder didn’t feel comforting, not anymore. It sat like a heavy weight as she watched them reshuffle the cards, nobody meeting each other’s eyes. Maybe it was all some carefully crafted illusion, her thinking she held any earned sway in the group. Half of them had only stopped ragging on her cause she had Joey glaring over her shoulder, and the other half warmed up to her cause they felt bad about Sobel and her goddamn brassiere. Scandalized on behalf of a broad. The thought nagged at her just as hard as everything else did. Peter expecting her to quit, Liebgott and his words outside the pub, Lip getting all weird as though he wasn’t the first man to be somewhat fucking nice to her back in Georgia.

She shrugged Joey’s hand off of her shoulder and stood up, pushing her hands against the grass.

“Hey where you goin?” He asked, the rest of the men pausing the game to look at her get up. For fuck sake, she could scream. She wasn’t made of porcelain. George looked like he was going to cry. “I told Roe I’d catch up with him, I mean it, I ain’t bothered.”

She grabbed her pack off the ground and slung it over her shoulder, walking away from the circle and in the direction of similar huddles, hoping she’d find the one guy who’d wanna sit in comfortable silence after the day they had.

•••

Joe cracked his knuckles before leaning back in the grass, Floyd showing off his new poncho in front of them. Joe rolled his eyes, “What the hell are you gonna do with a poncho?”

“Wear it.” Tab said as though it were obvious. None of them were takin any clothes. Similar shit, sure. He knew Perco was collecting watches, and Skinny had a few— but parts of the German uniform? he snorted just thinking about Floyd wearing the thing.

“Someone might think you’re a Jerry.”

“Hey buddy, you’re the one who speaks Jerry.” Tab quipped back, and Joe smirked, sitting up straight as Chuck whistled.

“How’s Tip?” Floyd asked, his tone suddenly more sobering. Joe grunted. “Fine, I dunno.”

Tab shook his head, “Thank God I ain’t a medic.”

Joe blinked slowly, his hands finding purchase in the grass as Tab’s words hung heavy in the air. He’d been feeling all fucking weird since he left the aid station, her words sitting heavy on his shoulders like goddamn cinder blocks.

“What makes you say that?” Chuck asked.

She’d looked at him like he’d done something strange. Like he wasn’t comforting his buddy who Joe in all honesty thought was gonna bite it. He shut his eyes, Tip’s bloodied face flashing in his head. Jesus Christ. He could be gentle. He wasn’t a bad guy. At least Joe didn’t think he was. Sure, he could be a fucking asshole, but deep down—

“You shoulda seen it in there, for fuck sake, Birdie and Doc Roe are saints,” Tab scoffed, “I dunno how they stay calm looking at that shit, you know?”

“We see it.” Chuck raised a brow, but Floyd only shook his head, “We’re not expected to fix it though.”

“Yeah,” Joe admitted, “If Tip makes it it’ll be cause a’ her.”

“She fixed Lip up too.” Floyd hummed.

They sat in comfortable silence, but Joe didn’t like the way his buddies were eyeing each other. Like they knew something he didn’t, or thought something, who the fuck knows. He wasn’t gonna ask. Her shock came back to his mind in the silence, and his stomach twisted. He thought her not wanting to hear him apologize was bad, but her being shocked he could be helpful was fucking nauseating. He didn’t.. he didn’t think she couldn’t handle it. Any of it. He’d never really thought it and he sure as hell didn’t after seeing her fly around Normandy like a goddamn superhero with her med kit.

He just didn’t know how to say that. To her, maybe even out loud to himself. But he had to, he had to take back what he said so she never looked at him in shock like that again. He was a good person. Maybe not always— definitely not always, but he was. Of course he was.

“Lieb?”

“Yeah?” He replied, wiping his hand against his mouth as he looked back up at his buddies.

“You and her fighting..” Tab trailed off, “It wasn’t, I dunno, it wasn’t some lovers spat, right?”

Joe bristled, “Are you fuckin nuts?”

He looked to Chuck for back up but found none, the blond looking at him just as curiously, “You’re both outta your minds.”

“Well then what the fuck, if you’re not screwing then why the hell are you two bein’ all weird?”

“I said it didn’t matter.” He spat, repeating the words he’d been spouting since it happened. How could he tell the truth? He’d look like a fucking jerk. He wasn’t gonna go telling her business, especially after he’d thrown it in her face when her own words hit a little too close to home. “I was a dick, let’s just leave it at that.”

“So you two weren’t…?”

“Jesus Christ,” He groaned, “Do I look like I wanna be court martialled?”

“I dunno, maybe you wanna screw her.” Chuck piped up, and Joe stared at him wide eyed. “Hey, I’m being honest, even Skinny thin—“

“— Yeah well you’re both fucking delusional.” He cut him off, his pulse thumping in his ears as Chuck’s words registered in his brain.

“Tell Skinny to fuck off too.”

“Well I didn’t think ya did, but I had to ask.” Tab shrugged, and Joe didn’t say anything. “I mean, you would’ve tried if you did, right? And Birdie’s smokin hot, don’t get me wrong—“

“—Tab, leave it.” Chuck snorted, and Floyd shrugged. The thought was insane. Them hooking up? Yeah, real likely, even if they could manage a proper conversation Joe wasn’t a complete fucking moron. It wasn’t like that.

“I was fucking that nurse, remember?” He said, “Shit, we make it back maybe I’ll call her if she’s still there.”

“What was her name again, Jenny?”

“Janice.” Joe corrected, sifting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He took a heavy drag from it. Him and fucking Verbeken, for God’s sake, really? “Yeah, I could use those tits after this hellhole.”

“She got any friends?” Tab teased, and Joe snorted, “Probably.”

Nah, he didn’t wanna fuck Verbeken. She was hot, he wasn’t blind, but he’s pretty sure she hates his guts. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. The thought of messing around with her of all people made his stomach twist. He didn’t wanna fuck her, he wanted to talk to her actually. That was already bad enough. Clear his conscience so he could stop feeling so fucking guilty every time he looked at her. So she didn’t look at him and see some kinda monster.

He was an idiot, an asshole. But for some reason the thought that she probably saw him like that made his mouth dry. They were buddies, at least he thought they were, before he’d gone and mucked it all up.

Joe didn’t mind fucking girls that didn’t like him, what the hell did he care, it’s not like he liked them, but nah— those two were fucking delusional. Besides, if they got friendly again that would only be a disaster. You don’t fuck your buddies. He’d rather eat his cap than picture what Tab’s words had conjured in his mind. He shook his head, rubbing at his eyes, God.

•••

They didn’t linger in Carentan long, much to Eleanor’s disappointment. Her legs ached, dirty OD’s damp and clinging to her skin as she crept through the hedgerow just outside the town as she passed from foxhole to foxhole.

In a way she appreciated the monotony of the task, and the movement it offered her. She didn’t know if she wanted to sit still, at least checking everyone had what they needed kept her occupied. It was soothing, though still nerve-inducing. The men camped closest to the road were scarcely a hairs-breath away from the German soldiers who could be heard singing and yapping away from the other hedgerow across the field.

Roe was in their own foxhole, hopefully sleeping as she’d begged him to. She didn’t mind checking the line, she’d told Floyd she’d snag him some extra gauze anyhow. The bags under Eugene’s eyes had been shrugged off by the Cajun man, though Nora knew their shorter numbers had taken a toll on him. That and the memory of their third, shot from the sky before he’d even had a chance to hook his chute. Maybe when they made it off the line and got a replacement Eleanor’s limbs wouldn’t ache so badly.

“Hey Mal, hiya Skip.” She whispered, crouching down to stare at the two men as they played cards. The rain was cold despite the humid summer air that hung thick, like tiny icicles sliding down the back of Eleanor’s neck and settling at the small of her back. She shivered, reaching behind her to scratch at the back of her throat.

“Birdie!” Skip whistled, patting the space next to him, “Cmon in, welcome to our humble abode, remember to take off your boots in the mud room—“

“—We got a nice hook for your coat, and hot food waitin.” Don finished, and Eleanor rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips. “Sorry boys, can’t stay, just wanted to check if you needed anything.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind a nice warm bed, with fresh sheets if it ain’t too much trouble.” Skip tutted, and Mal cocked his head, “Or a bath, with fancy soap n’ a warm towel.”

“Don’t worry I’ll pull that outta my pack for you.” She teased, “Anything else your highnesses?”

“Yeah, you got a smoke?” Skip grinned, and Nora nodded, fishing her still dry pack of Lucky strikes from her jacket pocket.

“You’re the best Birdie.” Mal groaned, slipping the stick between his lips and inhaling as Nora lit it for him. She lit her own before clasping Don on the shoulder and wishing them goodnight.

The forest was dark, the only light offered being from the pale moon and scattered lit cigarettes. They shouldn’t be smoking, but the Krauts already knew they were there. Had for hours, and Eleanor knew they’d be attacking at first light if the Germans hadn’t already. If their singing was any indication, it didn’t seem they were in a hurry.

She stepped over a fallen branch, eyes narrowed in the dark as she walked towards where she knew Talbert’s foxhole was. Her fingers snaked into her pocket, clasping around the gauze roll as her other hand ashed some of her cigarette absentmindedly.

“Floyd? I got that gauze for you.” She whispered, the body in the trench stirring as she crouched down. “S’not Tab, just me.”

Liebgott’s voice was gruff, his body twisting to look at her. “He should be back any minute, went to go grab Smith for his watch.”

“Oh, okay, I can just leave these with you then?” She asked, holding out the bandages awkwardly. Liebgott looked at her, his hands crinkling against the packet crumpled in his fist. “Yeah sure, you a’… you want a cracker?”

He looked tired, but they all did. It was the look in his eyes that made Eleanor pause.

“Yeah, sure.” She muttered, taking it from him and tucking her knees under her, sitting with her legs dangling in the foxhole. He’d been offended back in Carentan, his defensive tone had suggested as much. Eleanor didn’t know why it bothered her, why it made her sit and take his offering. She was so tired, her legs practically screaming as she let them rest for a moment. Talbert would be back soon anyways.

They sat in silence for a moment, long enough for Eleanor to finish her cigarette and bury it in the damp dirt beside her. Joe ate his rations below her, her boot just barely ghosting the man’s shoulder.

“I never should’ve said what I said to you.” He said quietly, barely discernible over the pattering of raindrops against the leaves above them. Eleanor stilled, the hand holding the cracker to her mouth falling to her hip. “What?”

“At the pub,” He cleared his throat, Eleanor could see his shoulder twitch, the action knocking against her foot. “Wasn’t right, you didn’t deserve that.”

No, you shouldn’t have, she thought. But maybe she shouldn’t have said what she said either. Eleanor took a small bite of the stale cracker in her hand, finishing it.

“Thanks.” She muttered, wiping her hand against her pants.

“I’m not..” He began, “I ain’t good with this shit, but you’re not foolin anyone— or, no, shit, I don’t think you’re tryin’ to.” He rambled, and Eleanor looked down as he shook his head in the trench.

“I know I’m a dick, but really Verbeken, I’m sorry.. I won’t say shit like that aga—“

“—It’s fine Liebgott.” She cut him off, wringing her hands in her lap. “It ain’t though, I don’t like that you.. you think I’m some animal, yknow?” He paused, “I don’t like that shit, whatever he did to— I’m not gonna bring it up, I never fuckin should’ve alright? It was a low blow, even from me.”

His words rang uncomfortably in her mind, and Eleanor looked down at her lap as Joe’s breathing became the only sound between them. It was a low blow, even from me. She sighed, rubbing her eyes between pinched fingers as her foot sat against his jacket covered shoulder. It was like he was vibrating, the tense shake of Liebgott’s muscles against her own snaking up her leg.

You think I’m some animal, y’know?

“I don’t.. think you’re an animal.” She said softly. “I don’t know what you are, but, I don’t…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He sniffed, taking her trailing words as an opportunity to regain control of the conversation. Eleanor frowned,

“I just wanted to say I was sorry.” He paused, “Cause you didn’t deserve that, not when we were kinda buddies, yknow?”

“Yeah.” She breathed out. They sat in silence for a minute or two until Eleanor stood up on shaky legs, her scratched hand digging into the mud beneath her. “Thanks Liebgott, try to get some sleep, okay?”

She tossed him the gauze, watching as he caught it and tucked it against his lap. “You too… night Eleanor.”

She walked away, fully intending to call it a night and try to get an hour or two of sleep before she had to make her rounds again. The wet ground squelched beneath her boots, and Eleanor’s head felt light. Despite her earlier apprehension, it did feel nice to hear Liebgott take back his words. She thinks he actually meant it, if his dejected tone was any indication. It squeezed at her, the way he’d fought through his apology. She meant what she said, she didn’t think he was an animal.

Maybe she was the animal, perpetually out of place no matter her surroundings.

Medic! Medic!

Eleanor flinched at the sudden yelling, a clear violation of Lieutenant Welsh’s noise discipline order. She spun around, eyes scanning the trees before the voice called out again, and her feet carried her back in the direction of Tab and Liebgott’s foxhole.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to— he looked like a Kraut!”

Eleanor gasped, dropping to her knees in front of Smith’s foxhole where Floyd writhed against a tree, Liebgott was flung over his lap. “Shut up Smith!” He growled, “You gotta breathe Tab, look at me, look at me!”

“What the fuck happened?” Eleanor asked, her hands frantically yanking her side bag off of her hip as she swung herself over Tab’s lap, pushing Joe clean off. He didn’t react to that fact, only righting himself next to Floyd, yanking his friend’s poncho up and over his abdomen.

“I-I thought he was a a Kraut!” Smith blubbered, “I-I’m sorry!”

“I told you not to wear the goddamn poncho!” Liebgott grunted, Tab was wailing, writhing underneath Eleanor as she pressed her fingers into the slash Smith’s bayonet had torn into his stomach. “I’m dyin!”

“You’re not fucking dying Tab.” Eleanor spat, though her heart beat loudly in her ears, the image of Floyd’s blown pupils and flushed skin as he groaned in pain rotting in her stomach and sending bile up towards her throat. Eleanor swallowed, her fingers prodding into his stomach as he fidgeted, Eleanor nearly falling backwards.

“Tab calm down.” She ordered, tearing open a sulfa packet with her teeth and pouring it into the wound as she removed her hand, “You gotta stop flailing— Joe, calm him the fuck down!”

“Hey, Verbeken’s tryna fix you up buddy, don’t go throwin her off ya.” He spoke, grabbing Floyd’s sweat soaked face and yanking it towards him, “She can’t do shit if you don’t just breathe.”

“Goddamn it!” Floyd groaned as Eleanor packed gauze into the hole,

“Tab, you got a pretty girl sittin on your lap and you’re blowing it pal, wise up.” Joe spat, and if Eleanor’s hand wasn’t inside Talbert’s abdominal wall she would have frozen, her ears pricked and flushed as Liebgott’s teasing words reverberated in her skull.

“Y-yeah, better than your— fuck, boney ass.” Floyd wheezed, and she could hear Liebgott laugh as she secured the bandage. She kept her hand pressed firmly against Floyd’s pulsing stomach as stretcher-bearers arrived from further up the line, dropping the cot to take Floyd away. She reached up to wipe at Tab’s brow as he exhaled harshly through his cheeks. “Fuck!”

“There ya go buddy, good as new.” Liebgott soothed. Eleanor shimmied off of Floyd, Joe helping her back by the belt buckle until her knees hit the dirt. His hand snuck up to her shoulder, the other against Tab’s. It burned, a strange heat against her jacket sleeve as Eleanor tried to keep her focus on Floyd as she helped the two men from Battalion move him without dislodging the gauze.

Tab was carried away, a blubbering Smith and an eerily silent Eleanor and Joe left behind, their panting the only sound between them.

•••

It was another week and a half before they were informed they’d be moved off the line, shipped back to Aldbourne for rest, replacements, and training. They were given showers once they’d reached the small coastal town they’d be boarding the small troop ship from, though the clean skin felt awkward against crusted, dirty OD’s. Eleanor looked forward to bathing once they returned to the small village, maybe she’d crush up a few of Florence’s flowers to make the scalding water smell sweeter.

Eleanor’s nose was currently assaulted by sweat, the faintest sent of seawater, and dirty clothes. The LST they’d been on for little over an hour was a sight for sore eyes, packed to the brim with dirty soldiers from the 502nd and 506th who’d just spent a little over a month in direct combat. She loathed it, though unlike their voyage on the Samaria their current barge would only take twelve hours to reach their destination.

Eleanor felt sick nonetheless, though the sea wasn’t the only one to blame. She sat between Bill and George, fingering the brass knuckles that lay against her left hand as they yapped to Buck and Penkala on the row across from them. They didn’t have proper cots this time, sleeping packs strewn around the landing dock of the LST for their short journey.

It was dark, the brass on her hand catching the faintest light against the wall of the steamer. Joey’d been evacuated a week before, the flesh wound he’d been hiding from her since the jump on the brink of gangrene. It pissed her off, though mostly made her sad.

“I’m gonna go up for some air.” She cut out, Bill shifting beside her. “You want me to come?”

“No I’m alright, I got these.” She shrugged, waving her metal-enforced hand in the air. It irked her, his suggestion. Little things had been irking Nora a lot lately.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I said I’m fine.” She snapped, pushing herself to her knees before standing, throwing a hand against George’s head to steady herself, “Grant’s up there anyways.”

She walked away, leaving her friends behind as she tiptoed through the messy huddles of bodies below deck. Her friends, or were they Joey’s friends who’d just accepted her after the fact? She shook her head, shifting her brass knuckles as she reached the ladder to the deck, exhaling with each clank it made against the rings. George had been up her ass after they’d moved on from the outskirts of Carentan, further into occupied Normandy. Blubbering and kissing her ass until she’d told him to drop it. In all honestly she hadn’t even been listening, her mind elsewhere, ears only registering his incessant voice.

Liebgott hadn’t been blubbering, but she’d noticed him a lot more since Floyd had been evacuated. Little things; cigarettes and rations held out towards her in moments of quiet, helping her with evacs if the Battalion’s stretcher men were occupied.. she didn’t mind it.

Eleanor took a deep breath as the breeze hit her face, climbing out of the small door and bracing herself against the open deck. It was stupid, all of it. She’d never cared before, but her mind seemed insistent on latching onto the smallest things that might cloud her judgement and cast doubts where there had been none before. She didn’t really wanna be around anyone right now. Eleanor wanted to be alone, back in her bedroom in Aldbourne where she couldn’t hyper-fixate on the smallest reactions and camaraderie of those around her. She walked along the deck, letting the salted air flow through her tangled hair.

“Shit, they bring you on as a treat?” A gruff voice spoke from the shadows, and Eleanor stilled, her head whipping around as another laughed, “Nah, it’s the broad they’ve got in the 506th.”

Her hand clenched against the brass knuckles, her neck tensed as she cleared her throat, “Damn right I’m in the 506th, you got a problem with that?”

“Depends, you wanna help me feel better?” The first voice asked, and Eleanor stepped back as two men from the 82nd turned the corner of the baseline, blocking her path.

“Are you injured?” She asked, her fingernails digging into her fists as she kept her voice steady, yet not shrinking. “My buddy and I are thinkin about a different kinda help, but that’s what you do, ain’t it?”

She swallowed, looking behind her, back at the door before narrowing her eyes. “I’m a medic, not a hooker, you can wait to blow off some steam in England, private.”

“Corporal.”

“Really?” She scoffed, “Then is that how you speak to soldiers of the same rank?”

“You ain’t a soldier.” He bit back, his buddy laughing as though she hadn’t heard the line before. At times from her own men.

“You’ll leave me alone before I find your commanding officer.”

“You gonna help us out or not?”

“Fuck you.” She spat, turning around to head back down. Back to Easy, where for all their faults her fellow soldiers meant safety.

The second man reached out to grab her by the back of her collar, and Eleanor gasped as the action tore the breath from her throat, yanking her backwards as she tripped over her feet. “I don’t like that mouth.”

She hit the deck harshly, immediately shimmying away, pushing up from her knees to run for the stairs. The first man tried to grab her arm, though Eleanor used his grasp to swing around, her brass-knuckle covered fist connecting with his mouth as he stumbled backwards,

“You fuckin bitch!”

“Hey!”

Eleanor grasped at the ship’s baseline harshly, scurrying to her feet as Chuck rounded the corner, grabbing the uninjured man by the neck and slamming him against the metal wall. She panted, her heart in her throat as Chuck shoved his face into the wall so hard the man gasped for breath.

“Are you fucking crazy? Or do you wanna go for a swim? I’ll throw you over the fucking railing if you ever think of pulling shit like that again.”

“The crazy bitch attacked m—“

“—She’s a fucking medic, see that bandage on your neck? I’ll make sure no medic fuckin touches you when some Kraut gets lucky and jams a bullet into ya, you hear me?” He panted, “Show some goddamn respect.”

The other man clutched at his nose, though he made no move to help his friend, swaying as he stumbled on the deck.

“You two fucking drinking?” Chuck spat, looking back to stare at the bleeding soldier while his hand pushed the other one’s face deeper into the wall, “Getting drunk and attackin medics when they do all the fuckin work, real nice— get the fuck outta here before I let her finish the damn job.”

Grant let the second man go with a growl, shoving him in the direction of the door as Eleanor stood still, watching the normally calm man pulsate in anger as the two paratroopers hurried past them.

“You alright?” He asked.

Eleanor sniffled, her hand aching and neck burning from where the drunk man had grabbed her. Anger and embarrassment. The two emotions swirled through her, weaving in and out of her ribs before lodging themselves high in her throat, a choking feeling that left her swallowing. The back of her eyes burned. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Huh?” He walked towards her with furrowed brows, her words having left her barely above a choked whisper. “Don’t tell anyone that they— that I.. I shouldn’t have come up here by myself.”

On the Samaria she hadn’t had much of an issue, though it lurked. Their row was large, leading directly to the aid room and the stairs above deck. She’d never left the row alone, eyes watching her if she tried, one of the men always jumping to head above deck with her. She hadn’t paid much attention to it at first, attributing it to her seasickness and their looking out for her— but it all made sense after a man from another company made a lewd joke during the final days of the journey. Bill’d glared at him until he turned over in his cot.

“Birdie—“

“— It was stupid, and I couldn’t ha—“

“— You broke that asshole’s nose.” He cut her off, hand gesturing towards her own, where faint red stains glittered against the brass coverings, “Probably would a’ knocked out the other one too.”

Eleanor shook her head, looking up to the sky and blinking furiously as she avoided Chuck’s eyes. Maybe this whole thing was stupid, her thinking she could really do anything. “Just don’t tell anyone.. I don’t wanna have to hear it from them.”

“Okay I won’t.” He nodded, “But you don’t.. Jesus Christ Birdie, you’ve been all weird since we jumped, what the fuck are you even on about?”

She shook her head, looking down at the deck before staring the Sergeant in the eyes, “I’m not— None of them take me seriously, not really, no matter what I do it all comes back to the fact I’m a broa—“

“—Cmon.” He tried to cut her off, though Eleanor’s words wouldn’t stop, not after she’d unleashed them, her temples pounding as the brass knuckles weighed heavier in her hands.

“No, goddamn it, even now— you made them fucking leave!”

“I didn’t say shit about you bein a broad, fuck that!” He exclaimed, shaking his head as he walked closer, his tone compelling, “So what? You’re a medic, I watched you carry Smokey out of a hedgerow by yourself then turn around and do the same for fuckin Boyle— and the man’s twice the size a’ me!”

She sniffled, Grant grabbing her by the shoulders.

“I don’t need to tell you this shit— you wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t fuckin do it.” He paused, “I didn’t step in cause you’re a broad, I stepped in cause you do too much for those shmucks for them to think they can act like fuckin animals.”

Eleanor took a deep breath, but Chuck spoke again before she could open her mouth, “Just.. why the hell are you punishing yourself cause you think you have too? You know many fights I’ve stepped into for Skinny and Lieb? Those two like to pick fights with men bigger than both of ‘em combined.”

Eleanor chuckled as he smirked, his words settling over her like a blanket.

“Nothin’ wrong with all of us lookin out for each other, that’s the point, ain’t it? It doesn’t mean we can’t handle our own shit— just that we’ve got each other’s backs.”

She nodded, and Chuck dropped his hands from her shoulders, clapping one across her back as he turned to stand next to her. “It’s war Birdie, we better have each other’s goddamn backs, but you n’ Roe are the ones holdin us together.”

•••

luvrottt speaks— omg, sorry for the later than normal update guys I HATE WRITING WARFARE LOL which is actually hilarious since I fully expected this chapter to end up halfway through the second aldbourne arc & not only is it one of the longest to date but their asses are still in fucking france. ANYWAYS, lots going on here, but mostly nora’s doubts. I love you chuck grant & your pep talks, never change sir you are the voice of reason holding easy company tg by a thread.

#band of brothers #joe liebgott #fanfiction #joseph liebgott x original female character #fic rec #A must read !!#So much detail and really well written #i love it so much 💕

105 notes · View notes