#eugene roe/oc

[givemebackmypills]

[cc-tens]

Listennn, I don't care what anyone says, medic characters in media are the fucking best. The battle between managing their emotions and distancing themselves a healthy degree from loss but also their love and devotion driving them to push through and try and do their best to save others, only to be destroyed when they cannot. How they try and cope with the situation they're put in - some by remaining quiet and distant, others trying to use jokes and levity to mask the pain. But GOD I love when a character who heals and saves others eventually comes to bend and breaks under the enormous pressure they're under and now other's have to find a way to save them. The people they've dedicated their lives to now trying desperately to hold tight and sooth the one who soothes them, to keep them whole and together not only due to that person being invaluable for what they do but also because everyone's come to love them for who they are as well.

[r4diobaby]

okay i made a ref sheet for liz very inspired by @cardinalpin own oc ref sheets! i have so much lore to explain for her oh lord

the quality also being eaten ALIVE was not my fault

[darling-heffron]

Hello all, and welcome to the first chapter of Momento Mori!! I hope you are all excited for this new AU, I know Sol☀️ and I are very excited to be sharing this with you all. We will be posting chapters weekly and hopefully we will be able to keep on top of the workload ahaha. We will update you if this does change.

Also an overall disclaimer that this story will involve violence, gore, swearing, abuse, SA, death, non-con, family trauma, parental abuse, dead dove: do not eat, just a lot of bad things, please inform us if we have missed anything and we will add it. (We will not be adding this to every chapter, only if we think one needs some extra disclaimers, or if it going to be very bad, we will let you know. We will have a full disclaimer list on the masterlist when it gets posted.)

Also also, this work is purely fictional, based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters and no hate to the men who served in WW2.

Taglist: please let us know if you want to be added!

Chapter One: The Plan

“Do you hear me, soldier?” The Lieutenant bent forward as he screamed in Sam’s face, as if she couldn’t hear him. 

She tried her best to not recoil from him as his salvia landed on her cheek. Sam wondered what her father would say this time, another infringement in just one week. Surely, he would have some choice words for her, when doesn’t he? 

Sam couldn’t believe she spent her whole life trying to please that sorry excuse for a man. God, everything she had ever done had been for him. 

The tall woman thought she was finally earning the praise she so desired when he suggested she join the army. All for it to be about him and not her. God, how could she have been so foolish, constantly trying to please that man. 

Well now she had woken up, and Sam was angry. The blonde woman would not beg anymore, she was better than that. She would not let him treat her like she was gum on the bottom of his shoe. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Lieutenant Jones boomed. 

“Yes, sir.” Sam yelled back, looking past the man. 

“The General will be hearing about this, Jackson.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Get your pack and get your ass moving, Jackson. I don’t want to see you back here until you are throwing up all over your boots!” Sam bit her tongue to keep from spitting back a retort, things were going to plan so far, she didn’t need her temper getting the best of her now.   

“Yes, sir!” Sam yelled, turning to grab her gear, hauling the heavy pack onto her back and slinging the gun over her shoulder. 

The girl moved quickly out of the barracks into the open expanse of ground that the base covered. She ran down the road into the open field, heading towards the woods at the furthest end of the territory. She couldn’t help the smirk that pulled to her lips. 

Everything was falling perfectly into place. 

Sam’s punishment had purpose, she had intentionally been sloppy all day; her bed wasn’t made, her uniform incorrect, she spoke back brazenly to her superiors, it all had snowballed to this moment. 

The blonde needed the punishment to be bad enough to get a full pack run, but it was harder than she thought. Sam had tried earlier in the week, but falling from the top of the class to the bottom was hard. She had made a name for herself for being the best of the best and so the officers turned a blind eye to her misdoings, thinking she was just having an off day. 

But when she kept up the behaviour for the second week, the officers started to notice. Sam noted that was the first time she had ever been yelled at like that by an officer. 

It wasn’t her first time being scolded, Sam’s father didn’t join the military for nothing. She had only ever known him as a cold strict man, she had never seen him smile once, not for her anyway. 

Sam didn’t see her father often though, Robert was a busy man and didn’t make time for his daughter.  

Isolated from a young age, Sam often was alone. Her own mother didn’t even make time for her, all Sam was to them was an accessory. She could count the times on one hand the amount of instances they were all together as a family. 

After her mother and father divorced, most families would fight over taking custody of their child, for Sam, she was forgotten about entirely.

Samantha’s legs moved faster carrying her towards the back fence, she checked her watch 1300hrs on the dot. She made it to the fence, slinging her pack off her back and sliding it through the cut hole at the bottom, she pushed it through to the other slide, following after it on her belly. 

She got to her feet brushing the dust from her clothes and bag before putting it on her back again. The girl needed to move away from the compound before she was spotted by one of the patrolling guards. 

If she had timed it right no one would realise she had disappeared, the next guard wasn’t due until 1330 and her Lieutenant wouldn’t be expecting her back for another hour. 

Woods surrounded the base, the dense brush hiding the whole facility. Sam slipped further into the bush, making her way towards the only main road close to the base. 

Before emerging from the bushes she redressed into more casual clothes, she didn’t need her whole attire to scream, ‘Hey look over here, I’ve just deserted and I’m running away!’

Sam stood on the side of the road, scanning up and down for one lone car. 

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking him so long?” Sam muttered to herself checking her watch for the millionth time. He was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago, if he wasn’t here soon she would have to move to plan B, and plan B was not her favourite. 

Sam sighed, her foot tapping impatiently on the tarmac. Screeching tires pulled her gaze down the street again. 

“Finally!” She said exasperatedly.

The girl watched the car zig-zag down the road. The man who was coming to pick up some army goods she had stolen for him was now careening down the street towards her. 

Why she used Craigslist she didn’t know but she was desperate for money and he seemed to be the only buyer interested in her items she had put up for sale, and he was offering her top dollar for it. 

Sam needed enough money to get her out of state and at least a few meals, then she was going to change her name and start a new life, one where she wasn’t tied to her horrible family or past. 

But now this guy was swerving all over the road, Sam watched the car speed from one side to the other. Everytime the car looked like it was just about to fly off the side of the street it swerved back onto the other side again. 

“Fucking hell, what is this crazy motherfucker doing?” Sam shook her head. The car never slowed as it came closer to her, in fact it seemed as if it was speeding up the nearer it got. 

“Hey, slow down!” She called, not thinking it would actually do anything, he couldn’t hear her yells from outside the vehicle. The car was heading towards her now, full speed, not looking like it was about to stop. 

“Fuck!” Sam screamed, leaping out of the path of the oncoming vehicle. 

She watched the events play in slow motion, the car screeched past her ploughing through the exact spot she stood only moments before. Sam crashed to the ground, her eyes never leaving the car as it sped past her. 

The blonde lay on the grass panting as the car smashed into the line of trees that bordered the road. Sam winced watching the collision, the whole front of the car imploded on impact with the trunks, the car halved in size. The whole front bonnet was now in the driver's seat. 

“Oh my fucking god!” Sam got to her feet running over to the smoking vehicle. She rounded the car to the front, the driver’s top half was sprawled across the bonnet, unmoving. 

The man clearly wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, his whole body impaled with glass, the pool of blood quickly spreading around him. 

Sam hesitated, she didn’t know what made her pause, her hand outstretched ready to check the responsiveness of the driver. But she didn’t want to touch him for some reason, he seemed off, everything about this situation seemed odd. 

She slung the gun from her shoulder, extending it forward, Sam gently nudged the man with the barrel of her weapon. The man didn’t move or react, so she tried again but harder. 

“Hey! Dude!” Sam called to him, trying to rouse him from his unconscious state. The man’s shoulders rose and fell, was he breathing? Sam couldn’t tell. She stepped closer again, eyes trained on the driver. 

“Sir?” She uttered under her breath. 

The man’s head shot up, his bloodshot eyes staring into hers. Sam stumbled backwards, the sudden movement from the person made her heart drop. A strangled groan or gasp left the man’s lips, it didn’t sound human, almost animal-like. 

Feral. 

Sam out of instinct raised her gun again, but it wasn’t loaded, all of the ammo she had was neatly tucked away in her pack. 

The driver’s eye never left hers, but he began to move. Surely all of his limbs were broken or injured, but the man wrangled his arms back to his sides. His movements were sharp and jerky, Sam had never seen someone move like that before. A loud crack nearly made her gag as she watched the man move his backwards leg back into place. 

“What the actual fuck!” She whispered under her breath. She took small steps back from the car, trying not to alert the man of her current escape. 

Ragged breathing from the driver grew louder, she watched in horror as he lifted himself off the bonnet, a long piece of glass from the windshield halted his movement forward. Sam’s eye bulged as the man pushed himself up, removing himself from the glass that was slicing into his flesh, fresh blood pooled underneath him. Questions flooded through Sam’s head but a louder voice spoke over them. 

‘RUN!’ Her mind screamed at her to move, but she stayed planted in place, watching the driver. 

In that same moment the man had gotten himself free, by the time Sam looked up again at him, he was standing in front of the wreckage. He jolted forward in a gurgling roar, Sam didn’t look back as she sprinted her way through the trees. 

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and ragged breaths spilled from her lips. She ran as fast as she could from him. He pursued her quickly and she could hear his rabid noises following her through the trees. 

Sam darted and weaved through the branches, hoping that the uneven terrain would slow down her pursuer. The wire fence came into view, if she crawled back she could hold him off and get some assistance, it was nearly time for patrol so there would be someone in the field that she could call over. 

Sam threw her pack off her shoulder, pushing it through the cut in the fence as she had only done moments before. The footfalls of the rabid man grew closer, his snarls and screaming sending shivers up her spine. Sam used her boot to shove her bag under the fence, but it was stuck. Her now entrance to safety was blocked by the bulky army bag. Her urgency rose even further as the man was so close she could see him charging through the trees in the distance. Sam kicked harder, using both of her feet, looking over her shoulder constantly to find the man coming closer and closer with each passing second. 

“Fucking hell!” Sam cried, willing the bag to just move at her effort, “Please!” She begged, putting her full strength into her legs. 

The rabid man now almost to the fence as well, growled loudly making his presence known. The bag came free moving from the hole, Sam moved quickly sliding under the wire as well, not wanting to look back at how close he had come to catching her. 

The girl got to her feet moving back from the fence as the man charged at full speed, never slowing. The driver launched himself at Sam, arms stretched wide, jaw hanging agape. She had never seen anything like it, no person has ever acted this way. 

The rabid man didn’t get very far in his attack, the chain link stopping him in his path, he ricocheted backwards landing in a heap on the ground. But much to Sam’s surprise he was back on his feet in no time, clawing and yanking at the barrier between them.      

“Hey, you!” A loud voice called from behind her, pulling her eyes from the crazy driver that gurgled and groaned. A guard walked towards her, his hand on his hip, ready to draw at any second. She raised her hands to show she meant no harm. 

“Sir, I can explain.” She replied breathlessly, but the guard's attention was drawn away from her as the driver roared loudly. 

They both turned to see the man had found his way under the fence, he clawed at the ground ferociously. 

Sam cringed, she could see from here the man’s fingernails ripping away from his flesh. 

Before she could even warn the guard, the driver had wiggled his way in. The driver leapt like he did before when he was coming after Sam, but this time there was nothing stopping his attack, the guard didn’t even have time to draw his weapon. 

The rabid man’s body crashed into the guards tackling them to the ground. Sam stepped back towards the fence. The driver baring his teeth, teared into the guard’s neck, blood spurting from the carotid artery that he had found so easily. 

The guard wailed in pain, trying to get the man off him. More voices sounded from across the field; the man's screams of pain had alerted the other guards.

Sam watched, her back pressed against the fence, as the driver lifted his head. The man stood focussing on the guards approaching, standing over the man who clutched at his neck choking breaths leaving his mouth. 

The driver once more sprinted towards the guards who came closer, but Sam didn’t need to see the rest, she had to get out of there. Once again she slid under the chain link fence, tugging her bag through with her. 

Sam ran quickly back to the road, her gun bouncing over her shoulder. She examined the car but it was completely totaled, she wouldn’t be able to drive it anywhere. The girl didn’t waste any time, she swung open the back doors, noting nothing of use. 

“Guess its plan fucking B then.”  

Authors note:

What did we all think of the first chapter?! Please let us know in the comments. Also stay tuned as the next chapter will be out shortly, if you would like to be notified when we post please let us know and we can add you to the tag list!! Did we scare you? Are you creeped out? Do you like Sam? hehehheehe

Love Esra ✨

[hobbit-historian]

Memories

Summary: you give Eugene a gift and are a bit confused by his reaction.

A/N: there’s not really any warnings with this one, other than the typical this deal with ww2 and its brutality. The reader here is a WAC mechanic. I couldn’t find anything specific on where they might have been stationed in relation to the front, so I placed the mechanics at the aid station.

The supplies had just come in.

She had been waiting for these crates - machine parts were supposed to be delivered with them.

But that wasn’t the most exciting part.

No, there had been a mess up and a previous set of boxes had been delivered to the wrong area. So aw an apology, there were chocolate bars in this set.

Y/N’s mouth watered as she thought about the chocolate. It had been so long since she had tasted such a luxury, and even longer since that luxury had been chocolate.

When the crates were unloaded off of the truck, all of the WACs were gathered around expectantly, murmuring to themselves about the promised sweets. Wen handed the crates off to some of the women, Y/N passing some back to those behind her.

Soon they had a line of people passing crates down the line. Once they were all unloaded the WACs tore into them eagerly. Once the prized chocolate was located, shouts went up from the women. Cheers sounded around the room as the chocolate exchanged hands. Y/N made sure everyone else got a bar before she took a couple for herself.

She smiled down at the bars, already knowing that she wasn’t going to eat either one. No, some special people were going to get these instead.

* * *

A jeep engine grumbled in the distance, a normal sound for this close to the front. Not only was the aid station here, but the WAC mechanics were here as well. Y/N looked up despite the normalcy of the sound, hoping to see one person in particular. She always hated when Eugene had to come back here - it meant there had been a casualty of some sort in Easy company. As much as she wanted Eugene to be on one of those jeeps, it always meant that someone else the knew was hurt.

So when she saw Eugene looking at her from the back of the jeep, her heart did a confused flip.

He nodded at her - he would take care of his wounded first and then would stop by and say hello.

Y/N smiled, trying to be reassuring, but it was hard, knowing that one of Eugene’s brothers was on that stretcher.

So she kept her mind on her work, knowing that Eugene would be over if he could. When she was finished with the jeep part, she found a nearby bucket and used the collected water to wash the grease off of her fingers.

“Hey” a soft voice called behind her.

When she turned, Eugene was there, hat in his hands. He wore a soft smile, but there was a sadness on his eyes.

There seemed to be more of that lately.

Y/N threw her arms around Eugene, murmuring into his shoulder.

“What’s that?” His breath was warm in her hair, and for a moment Y/N didn’t think about the war, about the jeep in pieces behind her, or her wet hands drying on Eugene’s jacket.

“Nothin’. “

She jumped backwards, grabbing Eugene by his arms. “Guess what I got today.” Her smile was wide. Eugene glanced down at her hands and then back up at her, a true smile ghosting his lips. Y/N looked at her own hands, and noting the wet handprints on the jacket, she let go of Eugene.

“Oh.”

But she turned right around and dried her hands on the cloth scrap, hoping that Eugene didn’t care too much about the wet hand prints on his uniform.

“Come on.” She motioned for him to follow and turned to go further into the building. It was an old school that had been turned into the aid station. The very back of the building was used to repair the jeeps, radios, and other machinery that the WAC could work on. Because they worked in shifts, one area of the school had been set aside for sleeping. Y/N led Eugene through the back of the building until they reached the meager corner she was using to catch some rest in between shifts. She dug into her pack and produced the chocolate bar.

“I managed to snag a couple. One went to a boy in town who told me he had never had chocolate before.” She stood and turned to face Eugene.

“Gene, you should’ve seen the look on his face when…” she trailed off as she noticed Eugene.

His eyes were locked onto the chocolate bar and his face had drained of color.

Eugene’s hand shook as he reached out towards the bar. But his fingers halted at the edge of the wrapper. “Mon dieu,” he whispered.

Y/N faltered. “Gene?”

All she could see was Gene’s hand as it started to shake, his fingers tips even drained of color. He grabbed the chocolate bar and brought it up to his face. His eyes were drained of their usual sparkle as he beheld the bar.

“Gene?” Y/N asked again. He still didn’t answer and only stared at the chocolate.

Y/N gave him some space. She had no idea why he was reacting the way he was - she could only guess it had something to do with an earlier event in the war. So she waited. Waited until he was ready to talk.

Eventually, Eugene’s eyes focused in on Y/N. He stated, as if surprised that she was still there.

“Ma Cherie, where’d you find this?” He swallowed, hard, and then spoke again. “I haven’t had chocolate since…” Another swallow. “Since Bastogne.”

Y/N kept her eye contact with Eugene and nodded. She understood. Things had happened in Bastogne that no person should ever have to go through. Things had happened to Eugene that no person should have to go through.

“You don’t have to take the chocolate if you don’t want to, Gene.” She put her hand out, palm up. Eugene’s eyes flicked down to her hand and then back up to her face.

“No, I’ll keep it. It’ll be nice to have something sweet remember you by.” He winked at her, but she could tell there was less heart in it than usual. So she proffered him a smile and put her hand on Eugene’s. His fingers were still shaking, but they stilled slightly under her touch. She watched as his smile even out a bit too.

“Well then, let’s go find some food and we can get you whatever supplies you need, ok?”

“Sounds good, mon Cherie.”

***

He thought about that bar all the way back to the front. Not only the bar in his pack, but the original bar, the one in Bastogne. He looked down at his bag, picturing the one there. It looked so different, yet he knew it would be the same. It would smell the same, taste the same, be the same color. Only the wrapping was different.

And the person who gave it to him.

She was different. Y/N was very different than most of the people he knew. She had been so happy to get the chocolate, and so happy to give it to him. But he had barely paid attention to what she was saying as soon as he laid eyes on the bar.

It took him straight back there, to that bleak winter where all her could do was watch people die.

And like the different person she was, Y/N had picked up on that.

She had even tried to reverse the situation.

Reaching into his bag, he drew out the chocolate and brought it up to eye level. The jeep driver noticed and did a double take.

“Whatcha got there?”

Eugene merely put the bar back in his bag and said “a second chance.”

[zamadness]

The Training Grounds – Earning Her Paws

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀɴʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʙᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜱ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴀꜱ ɴᴏ ᴅɪꜱʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ʜᴇʀᴏ’ꜱ.

Might not fallow the miniseries to 100%.

Camp Toccoa, 1942

The sun was just beginning to crest over the mountains, casting golden light across the training field. Easy Company had assembled at the edge of the dirt ring, curious about the demonstration they’d been told was "mandatory observation."

“What are we doing here again?” Luz yawned.

“Watching a dog do our job better than us, apparently,” muttered George.

Vivian Winters stood at the center of the field, her medic uniform clean but already dusted at the knees. At her side sat Scout—nicknamed “Snout” by the boys, thanks to her long nose and the way she always nudged their hands when they were hurting. Today, though, Scout looked different: focused, locked in, tail still.

Winters stood behind them, arms folded, nodding proudly. “Watch closely, men. What you’re about to see might just save your lives one day.”

Basic Obedience Training

“Scout—heel.”

The dog moved perfectly into position beside Viv's left leg.

“Scout—down. Stay.”

She obeyed instantly, even with Guarnere clicking his tongue trying to distract her.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “She’s more disciplined than Luz.”

“Hey!”

Explosive Detection Drill

A set of identical boxes was set up. Scout was released with a command.

“Find it.”

She sniffed her way through the row, tail still, ears up—until she sat in front of box #3 and barked once.

Viv walked over and opened it. Inside was a training dummy with simulated explosive charges.

“She just sniffed that out?” asked Lipton, eyes wide.

“She could smell it from across the field,” Viv replied. “Her nose is a better detector than any equipment we’ve got.”

Medical Field Work

Vivian dropped into a crawl through the mud, Scout beside her. “Simulated casualty!” she shouted. One of the medics played unconscious while fake shellfire rang out. Scout retrieved a small pouch from Viv's kit and brought it over.

“She retrieves equipment,” Viv said, applying a tourniquet. “And she can lead me to the wounded by scent, even under fire.”

“Why do we even need Roe?” Luz joked.

“I heard that,” Roe muttered from the back.

Controlled Aggression / Bite Sleeve Demo

Sgt. Malarkey, bravely or foolishly, had volunteered to wear the bite sleeve.

Viv snapped a command. “Scout—watch!”

The dog stood perfectly still as Malarkey moved toward Viv with a fake baton. She didn’t move.

“Scout—guard!”

With a burst of speed, she launched forward and latched onto the sleeve, pulling Malarkey down.

“Holy shit!” Toye barked. “She took him down like a wolf!”

Viv called her off immediately, and Scout released, standing calmly at her side again like nothing happened.

“Good girl,” Viv whispered, giving her a treat and a soft pat.

The boys were stunned.

“Gentle when needed. Fierce when ordered,” Winters said with pride.

“She’s just like her handler,” Nixon smirked.

Viv grinned. “Damn right.”

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated!

Episode Tie-In: Currahee Masterpost

[indigo-graves]

My Links ao3 wattpad ff.net

Soft | Roy Kent -ao3 -ff.net -wattpad

After | Roy Kent (One Shot) 18+ -ao3 -ff.net -wattpad

Softer | Roy Kent coming soon

This Dance | Joe Liebgott

This Dance Pt. 2 | Joe Liebgott 18+

Falling | Carwood Lipton 18+

Rusty | Lewis Nixon

Rusty pt. 2 | Lewis Nixon 18+

Curahee | Joe Toye

Warmth | Eugene Roe

[executethyself35]

My brain came up with this unhinged thot last night, and it's my full hearted belief that Eugene Roe needs to be covered in lipstick marks, like that mans neck is just asking to be covered in them, and a few on his face wouldn't hurt either. And the image that popped into my head was this one:

Look at him and tell me he doesn't look like he needs lipstick marks all over him, do you see my vision??

I also thought of that tiktok trend where one person is reapplying their lipstick and accidentally smear it and their partner fixes it and turns to their partner covered in lipstick marks, with him and Ollie. He's covered in lipstick while she's reapplying it.

[mykindalovr]

A quiet kind of love (Eugene Roe x Fem nurse oc)

Summary: Eugene Roe has a crush

Warnings: Injury and mentions of injury

ofc no disrespect to the actual war heroes this is just based on the actor portrayal.

The war tore through Europe like a wildfire, burning homes, lives, and innocence in its path. Among the shattered towns and the ghostly trees of the Ardennes forest, men fought, bled, and died. But amid the ruin, some things still bloomed.

For Eugene Roe, medic of Easy Company, solace rarely came. The groans of the dying, the bark of gunfire, the cold indifference of winter — all of it weighed heavy on him. But in a crumbling church turned makeshift hospital, he found an unexpected source of warmth: Claire Fournier.

She was a local Belgian woman — mid-twenties, sharp eyes, steady hands. She volunteered to help with the wounded when the front moved through Bastogne. Not a nurse by training, but her composure and compassion filled the gaps. Roe noticed her immediately, though he tried not to. But he kept finding excuses to return to the aid station. To "check on a patient" who had already stabilized. To "restock supplies" he didn’t need. To bring another injured man, even if someone else could’ve carried the stretcher.

Claire started to catch on.

"Doc Roe," she said one afternoon, wiping her hands on her apron. "You come here more often than the priest used to."

Roe gave a quiet smile and held out a small, snow-dusted wildflower — a rare find in the frostbitten woods. "Thought you might like this," he said, voice low, shy.

She took it gently, as if it were fragile. "Merci," she said softly. "It’s beautiful."

He never stayed long — just enough to see her eyes light up, to hear her laugh — before vanishing back to the lines. War didn’t permit much more. But he thought of her often, the memory of her a shield against the ugliness around him.

Then came the day the rumors started.

"One of the volunteers at the church got caught in a shell blast!" someone shouted near the foxholes. "They say it was bad — dark hair, short — think it was that Belgian girl."

Eugene’s stomach dropped. Without waiting for orders, he bolted.

Snow crunched under his boots as he raced toward the town, weaving between the half-frozen corpses of trees and the broken bones of buildings. Breath sharp in his throat, blood pounding in his ears.

He burst through the church doors, wild-eyed, scanning—

There she was. Sitting upright on a cot, her cheek bruised and a shallow cut on her arm, but very much alive.

"Eugene?" she said, startled at his sudden appearance.

He crossed the room in three strides and knelt beside her, scanning her like a patient. "They said you were hurt bad."

Claire looked at him with soft astonishment, then smiled gently. "It was a wall. A piece of it fell when a shell landed nearby. I’m fine. Just startled."

He exhaled slowly, his relief almost knocking the wind from his chest. Then he looked away, embarrassed at how fast he'd come running, how visible his panic must have been.

"You... you didn’t have to come," she added, more carefully.

Roe didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, he said, "I thought something had happened to you. I couldn’t... I just needed to make sure you were okay."

Claire studied him, her expression shifting from curiosity to something softer. "You care about me."

He looked up at her, caught, unable to hide anymore. His hands fidgeted with the frayed strap on his bag.

"I do," he said. "I know this isn’t the time or place, and I’m just a medic, and we’re all just trying to survive, but... I think about you. All the time."

Claire reached forward, took his hand, and for once his fingers didn’t tremble under the touch of another. "I care about you too, Eugene."

He met her eyes, hope flickering like a match struck in the dark.

"After this," she said, "when the world is quieter... we’ll find each other again. But until then—" she paused, leaning in to kiss his cheek, right where the stubble met skin, "—you come back in one piece, mon chéri."

And for the first time in a long while, Eugene Roe smiled without sorrow.

The war ended with more silence than anyone expected. No trumpets, no parades in the fields — just a strange, aching stillness, like a storm had passed and left behind only the sound of your own breath.

Eugene Roe returned home to Louisiana, a town of humid summers and Spanish moss, and tried to remember how to be still. The war had hollowed him in places he didn’t yet understand. Some days, he woke in cold sweats. Other days, he walked for hours just to feel the earth under his feet and not the crunch of snow or shrapnel.

But through it all, there was a letter.

She had written it on a torn scrap of cloth just before he left Bastogne, tucked it into his pocket when she thought he was asleep — her address in Belgium and just a few words:

“When the fighting is over, come find me. I’ll be waiting. — Claire.”

It took months to gather the strength. Not out of fear — he had faced fear. But because he didn’t want to find ruins where she had once been.

Still, in the spring of 1946, Eugene packed a small bag and took a ship back to Europe. It was easier than he expected — no longer a soldier, but a man on a mission of the heart.

Claire’s town had been partially rebuilt. New roofs sat atop old stone. The church still bore scars, but someone had planted flowers in the window boxes.

He asked a shopkeeper in broken French if she still lived nearby. The man smiled, pointed him toward the edge of town, to a small cottage with ivy creeping up the side.

Eugene’s heart pounded the entire walk.

When he knocked on the door, he almost turned to leave. But then it opened.

And there she was.

Hair a little longer, a bit sun-kissed, her eyes just as fierce and kind. She wore a simple linen dress, smudged with flour — she'd been baking.

Claire froze. Her lips parted in shock, and for a second, neither of them moved.

Then:

"You came," she whispered.

Eugene nodded, almost bashful. "Told you I would."

Claire stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him before he could say anything more. It wasn’t dramatic or desperate — just sure. Solid. Like the world had finally clicked into place.

"I didn’t know if you’d remember me," she murmured against his chest.

"Every day," he said, quietly. "You were the only good thing I found in that war."

She pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. "I set a place at my table every night. Just in case."

He laughed, more than he had in months, and kissed her — their first real kiss, warm and slow and without urgency.

That night, they sat by the fire with bread and soup and silence that was finally comfortable. She placed the old flower he’d once given her — now pressed and dried in a frame — on the table between them.

He reached across and held her hand, tracing the lines of her palm with a medic’s care, and with a lover’s awe.

"You think we can build something?" he asked.

Claire smiled, eyes full of quiet hope. "We already are."

[cchickki]

A Woman at War (Rewritten)

Chapter 15: Baptism by Fire

chapter summary: Nearly everything that could go wrong does go wrong when Easy Company invades Nuenen.

themes: eventual romance, slowburn, friendship/love, grief/mourning, friends to lovers, mutual pining

pairing: donald malarkey x oc / floyd talbert x oc

rating: T (for now) - tw: brief descriptions of blood and injuries

word count: 5.3k

author's note: Combat scenes are (still) difficult to write, especially for this chapter as I was going through revising the old story. There's so much dialogue and focus on Marie's character and personal struggles that I decided not to take away from that too much. There's plenty actual combat and military strategy to come since Malarkey's book had a lot about Operation Pegasus which is coming up soon (as I recall from my original notes). Also going back and reading my old writing I re-realized how rebellious I made Marie, the girl shot off at the mouth way too much toward her superiors lol. She definitely would've been court-martialed for insubordination realistically, like ugh what was I thinking back then?! I've toned down that aspect of her quite a bit in this chapter. She's still a little headstrong spitfire though.

READ HERE! < ---- (ao3 account required to view/read)

Read original fic: (ff.net) (ao3)

(wondering if I should post a sneak peek under the cut for future chapters? I would like to post the chapters here but I've already had fanfics scraped before and am nervous to do so...)

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Chapter 5: You Will Always Have My Heart

Eugene Roe x Violet Elwood

Summary: Eugene didn’t know that love could hurt so much, until he met Violet and then all he could think about was her. As Violet’s condition worsens, Eugene grows to realise just how fragile love is. Warnings: mentions of hospitals, critically ill oc, heart break, grief, death

November 20th 1941

Eugene tapped his foot against the cool, tiled floor of the hospital waiting room, knocking along to Artie Shaw on the radio on the nurses station. Violet was in for a check up with the Cardiologist but she’d been gone a little while now and the longer she was away the more anxious Eugene became.

A few minutes later, Violet pushed open the large double doors and made her way down the corridor to greet him, pulling him in for a hug.

“What happened? What did the doctor say? What’s the…?”

“Eugene calm down,” Violet laughed, pulling back from his arms and cupping his cheek, “Everything’s fine, well as fine as things can be. I’m fine, Gene.” She reassured him, pressing her lips to his. He melted into the kiss, the thoughts rushing through his mind slowed as her lips moved on his own.

“But what…” kiss “did the…” kiss “Vi…” kiss. Eugene gave up trying to speak and instead kissed Violet back firmly, his hand coming to rest on her lower back.

“You talk too much, Gene,” she grinned, smoothing her fingers through his dark locks, playfully pulling at the strands and causing him to sigh at the contact.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Vi,” he mumbled, burying his head into her neck and holding her close.

“I’m afraid that I’ll be the one dying first, Gene,” she smiled sadly, holding him close to her.

The hustle and bustle of the hospital faded around them and nothing else mattered in that moment. All Eugene could concentrate on was the woman in his arms, the woman he loved so dearly.

Violet felt a small tear trailing down her cheek as Eugene held her. She hated lying to him but she knew how upset he’d be if she told him the truth. At least this way they could still enjoy their time together without having the time limit the doctor expected hanging over them. Violet tried to push the doctor's words from her mind as Eugene led her from the hospital and towards the bus stop. She hated being so reliant on other people but as simple daily tasks grew ever harder and even breathing was an effort she knew she didn’t have much choice. As they took their seat on the bus, the exertion of the morning caught up with her and she slipped into a dreamless sleep in Eugene’s arms.

December 8th 1941

Violet was sleeping peacefully in her hospital bed, the early morning light creeping through the blinds, illuminating her pale features. She looked tired, with dark, purple circles painted underneath her bright, blue eyes, her cheeks hollowed and her cheekbones protruding more than they used to. But she was still his beautiful girl, Eugene thought to himself as he pushed her blonde locks from her forehead.

The radio was buzzing dramatically in the corner and Eugene stood to move closer, turning up the volume as the president, Franklin D Roosevelt’s voice filled the room.

‘Yesterday, December 7, 1941 a date which will live in infamy the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.’

Eugene froze beside the radio, listening to the president addressing Congress. The speech continued and he took a seat beside the radio, turning up the volume and listening as the president's words resonated with him.

‘The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost.’

His words flowed out of the radio, sickening everyone in the hospital, no one walked past the door.

��I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese Empire’

Eugene took in a sharp breath, the US had declared war on Japan. They were going to war. What would that mean for him? For Violet? Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Violet stirred under the covers.

“Gene?” She mumbled sleepily and he was by her side in an instant, smoothing his hand over her cheek.

“I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m here. How are you feeling?” He crouched beside her bed, resting his head on their clasped hands.

“My… chest hurts,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding shut before she opened them again. She had a procedure the other day and it had taken its toll on her, she was weaker now. Every day seemed like a struggle and he heard one of the nurses mention it was unlikely that she’d be going home again.

“I know, Sweetheart,” Eugene moved so he could lay on the bed beside her and she snuggled against his chest. He could feel her heart beating slowly beside him, lub dub, lub dub.

“What was on the radio?” Violet asked, glancing up at Gene.

He smiled sadly at her, unsure of how to break the news to her, “You know Pearl Harbour was attacked?”

She nodded slowly. “Well the US has declared war on Japan.”

Violet pushed herself up carefully so she could face him properly, “Does that… does that mean you’ll have to go? Go to war?”

Eugene shook his head, “I don’t know yet, but I promise I’m not leaving you unless I have to. You hear me?”

Violet smiled, reaching up but Eugene craned his neck so she could reach his lips easily, planting a small kiss before laying back down.

Violet soon slipped back into her slumber but Eugene couldn’t rest, his mind drifting to the President’s words. What would that mean for his future?

December 11th 1941

“Good mornin’, Sweetheart,” Eugene greeted her, a bunch of flowers in his hand as he moved around the bed, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

“Good mornin’, Gene, she smiled weakly, reaching out her hand to hold his. He squeezed it gently, pulling up a chair to sit beside her bed. “How are you feelin’ today?”

“She shrugged her shoulders, “Same as yesterday, Gene.”

Eugene nodded slowly, she’d been having a bad week, lots of chest pains, lots of episodes of breathlessness. She was now on oxygen full time and had a nurse coming in every half an hour to monitor her vitals.

Eugene knew that things weren’t going to get better than this, they could only get worse. One of the nurses warned him that she may eventually slip into a coma if she became too weak. It broke his heart to see her suffering so much. She barely ate, most of her nutrition was given via liquid food, and she could barely move. Eugene had taken her for a walk around the hospital grounds in a wheelchair the other day and it was nice to see her smile again.

“How’s your family?” Violet asked, raining her head from the pillow to glance at him, her blue eyes shining brighter than ever but the rest of her seemed to be fading faster by the day.

“They’re okay. They said they’ll be poppin’ by later to see you. Wanted to check on you,” Eugene reassured her. He picked up her hairbrush from the bedside cabinet, smoothing it carefully through her blonde locks. She’d always taken such care of her hair, always neatly curled and pinned, but now it lay flat against her head, lifeless.

“Thank you, Gene. For everything.”

“Of course. I love you, of course I’m gonna look after you,” he pressed his lips against her forehead and she sighed sleepily. “Do you want me to go so you can get some rest?”

“No, no please stay,” Violet shuffled cautiously across the bed to make room for Eugene, “Will you hold me for a while.”

Eugene smiled widely at her, “Of course, Sweetheart.” He slid in easily beside her, wrapping his body around her tiny, weak frame.

December 14th 1941

“I’m afraid it’s not good news, Eugene,” Violet's father explained.

The family were sitting in the waiting room, her mother and sister crying quietly in the corner. Her father had tears in his eyes but he was fighting them, trying to remain strong for his family's sake.

“The doctors don’t think she has long. I’m so sorry, son.” Violet’s father placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before moving back to be with his family.

Eugene was frozen to the spot, the noise of the hospital fading around him into a blur of white noise. The flowers he’d been clutching fell limp to the floor, their petals splaying across the tiles. His mouth was dry, air barely reaching his lungs before it escaped in a sharp breath. He felt his knees buckle, hitting the ground hard, but he didn’t notice the pain. He didn’t feel anything, not anymore.

December 16th 1941

Violet’s breaths were short and shallow, her eyes closed as she rested peacefully against Eugene’s shoulder. Her family all sat around her, their eyes rimmed red and puffy. They had all cried enough over the last few days that Eugene thought he’d never cry again. How could he ever cry over anything else when the worst possible thing had already happened?

“Gene,” Violet mumbled weakly, causing Eugene to jump slightly.

“Yes, Vi.”

“I don’t want to die here, not in this hospital,” she glanced up at him, her hand cupping his cheek. “I want to go back to the lake, it’s our place. I want to go back to the lake, Gene.”

Eugene looked down at her sadly, “We can’t go the lake, Sweetheart. You’re not well enough.”

“Gene, I’m never going to get any better than this. The worst thing that could happen is that I’d die and I’m dying anyway,” she retorted, she understood his anxiousness but at the same time she needed to do this, it was her last chance.

Eugene glanced up at Violet’s family, trying to gauge their reaction. Eugene’s father stood up, giving Eugene a curt nod.

“I’ll bring the car around.”

The drive to the lake was a short one. By the time Eugene had carried Violet out to the car and her mother had carried out her oxygen bottle, her father had brought the car around.

They all bundled in, no one moaning about the tight squeeze or the stuffy air. Violet was sitting on his lap, clinging tightly to the front of his shirt.

“Thank you, Gene, she mumbled, pressing her lips gently to his neck. Eugene had to fight back the tears as he looked down at her, trying to steady his breathing so she didn’t realise he was crying.

When the car pulled up as close to the lake as they could, Violet’s family hurried out of the car, helping carry the oxygen as Eugene carried Violet. They picked a quiet spot, the same spot where Eugene and Violet had their second date.

Violet’s mother lay down a blanket from the back of the car, laying it on the grass so they could sit down. Eugene sat down first so that Violet could sit between his legs, leaning against his chest.

Violet’s mother hovered behind them until her father ushered her away. “Give them some time, Love. She wants to be with Eugene.”

Eugene watched as they walked back to the car, he knew he was hurting but how much pain must they be in losing their eldest daughter?

The sun was hanging low in the sky, just like it had been on their second date. It cast a bright orange glow, like the sky was burning, a lit the flames. The lake itself glowed orange, reflecting the setting sun's rays. It felt as though the whole world was alight.

Eugene grasped Violet’s hands, wrapping them in his own and pulling them close to their chests. He could feel her heartbeat, weak but steady beneath his hands. He could feel her breaths, short and sharp.

“It’s so beautiful,” Violet whispered, her eyes shining brightly in the setting sun and it reminded Eugene of the old Violet before she was sick. The time when they had everything to live for.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled into her hair, burying his face and taking a long, deep breath. She didn’t smell like she used to, of roses and lavender. She smelled clinical, like the hospital. It was as if that place had drained the life from her instead of trying to save it. “You’re perfect.”

“But my heart’s not, that’s far from perfect. I’m sorry my heart wasn’t good enough” she mumbled, glancing up at Eugene, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be perfect for you, Eugene.

Eugene but back a sob, “No, no don’t you ever say that. You are perfect, Violet. God, you are so perfect. Your heart was all I could have ever asked for. I love you so much.” He pulled her in tighter so that she was sat in his lap, her head resting against the crook of his neck.

“I wish we could have had longer,” Violet cried, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed, her breath becoming short, small gasps escaping her. Eugene placed the oxygen mask over her mouth, rubbing her back comfortingly as she coughed.

“It’s okay, Vi. It’s alright. We had the time that God decided for us and it was the best time of my life. I love you so much, don’t ever forget that.”

Violet nodded slowly, unable to speak as she breathed as best she could through the oxygen mask. He placed his lips on her forehead, kissing her lightly as he closed his eyes and began to hum quietly. Violet's breathing became slower, shallower as he hummed and she relaxed into him.

Eugene smoothed his hand over her hair, watching as her blue eyes slid closed, small breaths leaving her lips. “It’s okay, Violet. It’s okay to let go, I’ve got you now.” He whispered into her ear, rocking her slowly, “I love you.”

Violet’s body relaxed in his arms, her breathing slowed until it became inaudible, and her heartbeat slowed beneath his hand.

“Thank you, Gene. Thank you for loving me,” she whispered, taking one last deep breath before she fell silent, slipping away from the world. Eugene watched as her body relaxed, her ragged breathing stilled and her heartbeat stopped under his hand. She looked so peaceful, her face no longer lined with worry, but her flesh smooth over her gaunt features. She was finally at peace.

Eugene’s tears flowed freely now, he didn’t want her to see him crying, didn’t want her last memory to be of him in a state, but now he could. He didn’t hold anything back, clutching her lifeless body as if she could anchor him to this world as he fell apart.

“Goodbye Violet,” he sobbed, “I love you.”

December 20th 1941

Eugene bundled some belongings into his kit bag, mainly a few spare pairs of clothes, some smart shoes, and a book for the train journey. His parents were going to drop him off at the station to start his journey to basic training. He’d never managed to tell Violet he’d enlisted on December 12th, it seemed so far away at the time.

His parents were waiting outside as he collected up his last few things, shoving the photo of his family into his book so it wouldn’t become damaged.

The scrapbook Violet gave him for his birthday sat on his bedside table, pride of place. He’d looked through the photos every night since she passed, reading over her words of encouragement. She knew him so well. Each phrase or paragraph made him smile, they got him through each day without her.

As he turned over the final page of the book he noticed a white piece of paper sticking out the edge of the book. He pulled it free, unfolding the paper and revealing a letter written in Violet’s hand. Eugene felt the scrapbook fall from his hands and onto his bed. His eyes trained on the letter.

To My Dearest Eugene,

By the time you read this letter, I will be gone. I wish we could have had more time together, but then all of the time in the world would still not have been enough.

To be loved by you was the greatest treasure of my life. You are a special man Eugene Roe. You filled my life with light and I don’t want you to hide that light from the world. I want you to show the world how wonderful you are Eugene and you have to promise me that you will love again. I know that there is someone else out there for you and I want you to find her. She will be so lucky to have you Gene.

Thank you for everything Eugene, thank you for making me feel special and for loving me despite knowing our ending. I wish you all the luck in the world, my love. I love you with all my heart.

Yours always

Violet

Eugene didn’t find the usual tears slipping down his face but instead, a wide smile spread across his lips. He folded the letter, placing it alongside the picture of himself and Violet, before doing up his kit bag and sliming it over his shoulder. He gave one last glance at his childhood bedroom, unsure of when he would next see it. He walked down the familiar stairs and along the corridor. He looked back at the house he had occupied for the last 20 years, filled with so many memories.

“Thank you, Violet.” He closed the door, following his way down the familiar path and towards the car. He’d soon be in another State on a very different path than he’d imagined but at least he knew that no matter what Violet would be watching over him.

Tags: @blueberry-ovaries @mads-weasley @coco-bean-1218 @she-wolf09231982 @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @xxluckystrike @hogwartslegacypics @softguarnere

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 2- Stuck With Me

Summary: After the German bomb run on Bastogne, the locals and American soldiers there that were able, helped piece back together what they could of the town. Medical personnel that had survived still tended to the wounded however they could with whatever supplies they had left. A deserted upper class family home that survived the bombing was temporarily designated as the new aid station until further notice. Although he was internally grieving the loss of Renée and Anna, Eugene steadily pushes through the chaos to provide aid to his fellow Easy members at a moment’s notice. Saria, on the other hand, wasn’t as resilient.  

A/N: OC/Rosaria Marie Leone (leh-OHN), EugeneRoeX!FemMedic, WW2, Post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Military Terminology, Band of Brothers References, Boondock Saints ‘ll Duce’ Prayer Reference, Mentions of Weaponry, Smoking, Mentions of death, Blood, Graphic Gore, Medical Terminology, Italian and French with English translations

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

Story takes towards the end of Episode 6-Bastogne and beginning of Episode 7- The Breaking Point

~~~~~~~ 

January 3, 1945

Easy Company was still holding the line outside Bastogne in the Ardennes Forest, enduring the cold, the hunger, and the lack of supplies. Not to mention the incompetence and constant absence of their current commanding officer, LT Dike, was mitigating any progress to push through Foy.  

The new aid station was set up in a deserted lavish multilevel family home. While the few nurses and local volunteers buzzed from room to room tending to patients, Saria sat in the parlor tearing bed sheets into strips to use as bandages and dressings.  

Suddenly, a litter was clumsily carried through the front door with Eugene following behind them. Upon hearing them enter, she rushed over to assist. 

“What do we got here?” Saria asked. 

“Gunshot wound to the right thigh, but-” Gene began. 

Saria began hastily assessing the wound on the exposed thigh area. 

“Saria-” Gene drummed. 

“Looks like the femoral artery’s been severed-” Saria muttered to herself thinking out loud, not listening to Eugene. 

“Saria,” Gene bellowed. 

“Che cosa!? (What!?)” Saria replied sharply in Italian, looking at him expectantly. 

“It ain’t gonna do any good.” he said pensively. 

Saria cocked her head as she furrowed her eyebrows at him, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Il est mort. (He’s dead).” Gene clarified in French. 

Saria stared at him, absorbing the information until it finally clicked. She looked at the soldier’s lifeless, pale face. She dropped her eyes to the floor, allowing a defeated sigh to leave her lips. 

“Guess it was silly of me to think every soldier you bring here would still be alive.” she said quietly. 

Eugene only blinked, keeping his attention on her. 

Saria shook her head to reset her thoughts. 

“Take him to the garden house out back so Chaplain Maloney can say a prayer over him.” Saria instructed, lazily gesturing to the hall leading to the back door of the house before walking into the kitchen. 

“Yes, ma’am.” the two men replied as they carried the perished soldier down the main hallway towards the rear of the house. 

Eugene waited in the foyer, glancing down the hall to make sure the stretcher made it out the back door before proceeding to the kitchen.

He leaned against the doorway waiting as Saria faced the cast iron wood-burning stove. She raised a kettle from the trivet (stove surface) and poured hot water into a teacup. 

“What was his name?” Saria queried sipping her beverage with her back remaining to Eugene. 

He cleared his throat, “Hoobler. Don Hoobler. Accidently shot himself with a Lugar he got off a German he picked off.” he dejectedly explained. 

He saw her disappointedly shake her head, well aware she was contemplating the irony behind a soldier recklessly losing his life because of a foolish ‘trophy’ like a German Lugar. 

“Comment as-tu été? (How have you been?)” Gene’s usual gravelly baritone voice carried over the room to her. 

Saria remained quiet at first as she tried to piece together a response that wouldn’t raise concern. 

“Keeping busy,” she replied plainly. “Et toi? (And you?)”  

“Same.”  

“Tea?” Saria offered after a long pause. 

“No thanks.” Eugene declined kindly. 

“We have coffee.” she extended as she looked over her shoulder. 

A faint smile graced Eugene’s face.  

“Coffee would be nice, merci.” he professed as he crossed the threshold to sit at a two-seater kitchen table. 

Saria occupied herself preparing the coffee grounds and coffee press. Eugene surveyed her bustling around the kitchen, trying to get a feel for how his friend really was feeling since she was being very vague and evasive. He noticed she seemed to be very adamant about keeping her back to him. But he sat there waiting patiently while she kept herself busy with the coffee. 

Saria placed the packed coffee press onto the stove trivet, then stood by the counter where the kitchen window viewed out to the garden. Her eyes coincidently caught Chaplain Maloney walking into the garden cottage. She quickly averted her eyes to her hands fiddling with a spoon on the countertop. 

Eugene observed her carefully, his heart progressively filling with concern. 

“There’s another chair here,” he pointed out, but she didn’t budge.  

“Asseyez-vous et parlez avec moi, mon ami (Sit and talk with me, my friend).” he beseeched. 

Saria audibly sighed. Eugene got up and walked to the other chair sliding it out from under the table, inviting her to have a seat. 

“S'il te plaît? (Please?)” he gently implored with a feeble smile. 

She looked at the chair, then at Eugene. She sauntered to the table and lowered herself onto the chair as he pushed it under her. He walked over to the counter, grabbed a teacup, then went to the stove to pour himself fresh coffee from the press. 

He turned slowly towards Saria as he took his first sip. She sat gaping at the floor, lost in her thoughts. His soul ached for his mourning companion. 

“Saria-” Gene began, but she remained stoic, only closing her eyes so she didn’t have to look at him.  

He walked to her, placed the cup on the table then squatted in front of her to look her in the face. 

“Rosaria,” he asserted sternly, refusing to let her avoid him any longer. “-regardez-moi. S'il te plaît. (-look at me. Please).” 

Saria met Eugene’s troubled expression with empty bloodshot eyes, as they began to gloss over, filling to the brim with tears until droplets started to cascade down her cheeks. He studied her face for a few seconds longer, searching for any inkling of hope. He found none. 

“My French is getting rusty...” she whispered as her voice cracked from choking down the urge to sob. 

Eugene’s eyebrows drew inward, shaking his head trying to comprehend why she said what she said.

“I haven’t-” she struggled to continue as she repeatedly blinked hoping to keep the tears from spilling over anymore, “-I haven’t been practicing my French. I’m losing everything she taught me.”  

She hung her head, ashamed she had possibly dishonored Renée’s memory by forgetting the French she worked so diligently on with her. 

Gene nodded, “I see,” he discerned compassionately, now realizing where the root of Saria’s pain was coming from. 

He searched within himself for the comforting words he could say to console her, but even he was still in a state of lament over Renée’s death.  

He looked back at Saria, “So, everything I had said to you in French since I got here-”  

Saria looked at him hesitantly, waiting for him to finish. 

“How much of it did you catch?” he questioned with a impish smirk gradually appearing on his face.

Saria forced out another long exhale, “Enough for you to get me in the chair, I suppose.” she fleetingly jested. 

Eugene chuckled, which prompted Saria to briefly giggle as well. Eugene returned to his chair to finish the rest of his coffee. After a minute or so of subdued laughter, there was a deafening hush in the room as they sat in silence together. 

“Honestly, I haven’t been practicing my French because I’ve been waiting to practice with someone I'm comfortable with.” Saria proclaimed. 

“Yeah?” Gene returned genuinely intrigued. 

“Mmhm,” she replied. “Could you-” 

Eugene raised his eyebrows waiting for her to finish. 

“Pourriez-vous...um...” Saria attempted to rephrase her question in the little French she could remember. “-m'aider... avec mon français ? S'il te plaît? (Could you...um...help me... with my French? Please?)”  

Eugene’s smile widened as he leaned forward, sliding his arms across the table with his palms open, inviting her hands to hold his. Saria obliged, bringing her hands up from her lap, placing them in his.  

“Bien sûr. (Of course).” he responded as he affectionately caressed her knuckles with his thumbs. 

Saria smiled awkwardly, pushing down the heightened feeling of butterflies in her stomach. 

~~~~~~~ 

January 4, 1945 

“Bonjour, Rosaria.” a warm familiar voice greeted. 

Saria emerged from behind the bar to see Eugene standing under the oak archway leading into the parlor. 

“Eugène! Je suis tellement content de vous voir! (Eugene! So glad to see you)!” Saria exclaimed. 

Eugene revered at her as she met him under the archway. 

“What?’ she asked with a playful look of skepticism.  

“Your French. C'est déjà bien mieux. (It’s already much better).” he commended. 

“Oh-” Saria’s breath hitched, “-merci à toi (-thanks to you).”  

“De rien, mon ami (You’re welcome, my friend).”  

Eugene leaned against the oak pillar of the arch while Saria self-consciously rocked back and forth on her feet with her hands folded tightly behind her back. 

“Renée would be proud.” Eugene stated, raising his eyes to Saria’s. 

Saria drew in a deep breath when her eyes met his. He couldn’t help but adoringly gaze upon her while a soft smile stretched across his face. 

“Hm,” Saria hummed, “-yeah.”  

She forced a meager smile then looked at the floor. 

“So, I got some news,” Gene declared, “They’re trying to push into Foy in a couple of days.” 

Saria cast him a look of panic, “You’re leaving?” she asked, trying to suppress the concern in her voice. 

“That’s the plan.” he replied plainly. 

Saria’s eyes darted around the room while her heart rate steadily increased.  

“But-” she began. 

Eugene stared at her, waiting for her to continue her sentence. Words failed her as she stood there in front of him with her eyebrow’s furrowed and the worry lines intensifying in her forehead. 

“But?” Eugene pushed. 

Saria refocused on him, “You can’t leave me here. Alone.” 

“You won’t be alone, mon ami.” he assured. 

“Comment ça? (How so?)” she retorted raising an eyebrow at him. 

Eugene chuckled, “You have all these people here that work with you, the locals-” 

“Please don't.” Saria interjected. 

“Don’t what?”  

“Don’t list off other people for me as if you’re expendable.” she mandated. 

He curiously cocked his head at her.  

“Because you’re irreplaceable to me.” she confessed without hesitation. 

Saria was a wreck under the surface. Racing thoughts of losing the only best friend she had left, let alone what she just admitted, had her chest painfully heaving from anxiety. Gene watched her meander to the nearest lounge chair to sit before she passed out. 

He snickered to himself before he strolled over to her. He briefly stood over her, then squatted next to her chair resting his elbow on the armrest. He weaved his fingers between hers, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze while his thumb tenderly kneaded over hers. 

“I don't like it anymore than you do, mon cher (my dear),” he began, “-but this is why we’re here. It’s what we gotta do.” 

“I know.” she grumbled looking down at their hands intertwined on her lap. 

“Please come see me before you go?” she said as she looked up at him imploringly. 

“Bien sûr ma chère (Of course, my dear).” he promised.  

~~~~~~~

January 5, 1945 

Eugene unfortunately didn’t have time to visit Saria before advancing deeper into Bois Jacques woods right outside of Foy.  

“TAKE COVER!” Sgt Carwood Lipton yelled out to Easy Company. 

German artillery fired onto Easy Company from the town as Easy soldiers scattered to the nearest foxholes to take cover. Blasts coming from all directions causing trees to fall and dirt to fly made it difficult for the men to navigate safe passages to their holes. 

After a brief break from German attacks, Sgt Bill Guarnere answered the pleas for help from a wounded Joe Toye after an explosion took his right leg off. While Guarnere did his best to drag Toye back to safety, another German shell made contact near them during the second wave of attacks, severely wounding Guarnere’s leg as well. 

After the chaos settled, the Commanding Officer, LT Buck Compton, staggered over to Toye and Guarnere lying motionless on the ground. As he approached, the aftershock rendered him speechless, leaving him unable to find his voice at first to call for help. 

“MEDIC!” he finally managed to cry out. 

Doc Roe came hoofing through, landing on his knees next to Toye getting to work on what was left of his leg. Off to the side was Guarnere leaning against a tree. 

“Just hang tight, Bill, I’ll get to ya as soon as I’m done with Toye over 'ere.” Gene told Guarnere as he quickly packed Toye’s thigh with dressing to absorb the blood. 

“Do whatchya gotta do, Doc.” Bill replied. 

Just then, another medic appeared at Guarnere’s side, already getting a tourniquet out. Gene caught sight of the new guy, unaware there was another medic available to Easy Company. This man worked briskly, effortlessly placing the tourniquet and swiftly dashing sulfur then wrapping the wound with bandages to stop the bleeding.  

“Hey, buddy, when you’re done over there can you help me with this?” Gene requested. 

Nothing prepared him for what happened next. A voice of a woman responded. 

“Be right there, pal.”  

Gene looked over at her, perplexed that this was in fact a woman working out here next to him. As he continued handling Toye, she scampered over to him kneeling at his side. 

“What do you need me to do?”  

He looked up to see it was Saria. He stared at her in utter disbelief, almost forgetting he was caring for Toye. 

“Saria? What the hell are ya doin' out here!?” Gene asked shocked, but mostly perturbed. 

“I’ll explain later, tell me what you need me to do.” Saria countered urgently. 

“Hold this.” Gene begrudgingly instructed her to hold Toye’s thigh up so he could use both hands to wrap. 

Two men rushed in with a stretcher. 

“Bill, you go first.” 

“Whatever you say, Doc.” Bill replied. 

“Over here. Take this man.” Gene ordered pointing at Guarnere. 

~~~~~~~ 

January 7, 1945 

There was hardly a chance for Eugene to sit and revisit why Saria was there after they prepared Toye for transport. The next few days the 506th had cleared the West and East side of the woods, which temporarily allowed little resistance from the Germans. 

Saria sat in the foxhole she dug for herself, restocking her carrier bag. Eugene peered over the edge to look in. 

“Rosaria.” He greeted her dryly. 

 She looked up at him, “Well hi, Eugene.” she chirped. 

He jumped into the foxhole landing on both feet then sat in the dirt next to her. 

“Mind telling me how the hell you ended up out here?” he suggested in a parent-like tone. 

“I was reassigned to Easy Company per the request of LT Dike. Before his final leave of absence, that is." she explained. 

“LT Dike? He was never around. How would anyone get his signature to approve your orders to get assigned to us if nobody could ever find him?” Gene rationalized. 

Saria revealed a mischievous grin, “Nobody can confirm nor deny that my orders are legit if the CO is never available to say otherwise.”  

Eugene wasn’t amused, “You forged orders to get assigned to Easy Company??”  

Saria looked at her boots. 

“Pourquoi?? (Why??)” 

“Eugene, I couldn’t stay in Bastogne any longer. It only reminds me of Renée and Anna. Then you were going to leave, so-” she trailed off, not really knowing what else to say. 

Eugene released a frustrated huff, shaking his head disapprovingly. 

“Tu vas être ma mort (You’re going to be the death of me).” he growled to himself. 

Saria did her best to push back a snicker, knowing Gene was genuinely disappointed with her for committing such an act of dishonesty. When a scoff escaped through her nose, he shot her an exasperated side-eye.

"You think this is ok? Rosaria, it’s dangerous out here.” his tone low and disgruntled.

“Eugene, please spare me the lecture. You don’t think I’ve seen how dangerous it can get out here? I’ve seen more wounded men than I can count at that church that came from out here. I know it’s no walk in the park.” she proclaimed. 

He forced another annoyed breath, then rubbed his tired eyes with his forefinger and thumb. 

“You’re stuck with me, now-“ 

“Yeah, you got that right.” Gene retorted. 

“-so there’s no use in arguing about it. Don’t act like you’re not glad to have me here. You guys needed another medic anyway-” 

“That wasn’t for you to decide!” Gene snapped with resentment behind his eyes. 

Saria looked away from him, unable to stomach how angry her best friend was with her. Eugene ran his hand roughly through his hair, immediately regretting raising his voice to her. He shifted to face her. 

“I am glad to have you here,” he started, “-but you don’t understand that you out here with me is a distraction.” 

Saria looked back at him inquisitively. 

He shifted again, “If the Germans rain hell on us again, and they will, I’m gonna be worryin’ more about you the whole time.” he explained. 

Saria’s eyes dropped to the ground beneath her heels, feeling ashamed she hadn’t considered his perspective. 

“Ya get what I mean, Mon cher?” he asked her softly, tilting his head to glimpse into her eyes. 

“Oui.” she uttered as she shivered from the cold. 

Eugene looked her over, “Venez ici (Come here).” he directed as he scooted closer to her, snaking his arm across her shoulders to pull her into him. 

Saria rested her cheek on his chest, nestling into him as he pulled a wool blanket over them.  

“Good?” he questioned. 

Saria nodded, “Grazie, Eugenio (Thank you, Eugene).” She said in Italian before drifting off to sleep.

Eugene pulled her in tighter, daring to kiss the top of her head before whispering a prayer over her: 

“Je te compterai parmi mes brebis préférées et tu auras la protection de tous les anges du ciel (I will count thee among my favoured sheep, and you shall have the protection of all the Angels in Heaven)…

…with all my heart.” 

~~~~~~~

[r4diobaby]

Jumpscare! I am OC posting.

small snippet of something I wrote for her, a little introduction to my tragic girl I play dolls with.

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 1: The Fall

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Synopsis: What will happen when some of Easy Company's finest soldiers fall through a foxhole and into another time?

Words: 1,314

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Author's Note: HERE WE GO LADS!! The first chapter of my self-serving BoB time travel fic!! If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know !!

Luz was the last one to arrive on the ground, immediately crashing into Malarkey with a resounding thud… Well, resounding for someone as small as Luz. He was the last to drop onto the pile of Easy Company men - a giant pile of limbs, helmets, and olive drab was groaning in pain, bewildered eyes darting in every direction. One minute they were dropping into a foxhole in Bastogne. The next?

Winters was the first to jump to his feet, helping his men find their footing. Up came Nixon, Liebgott, Roe, Guarnere, and Bull Randleman. Speirs and Toye had gotten themselves up and situated, looking to make sure they had all their gear. Luz was still on the ground, trying to get his bearings, while poor Malarkey was doubled over underneath him. “FUCK, LUZ!” Cried Malarkey, his hands shooting to his ribs as his body folded in pain. “I think you broke something!” Malarkey’s feet rammed themselves into Luz’s back, flinging the soldier off of Malarkey and onto his stomach with an “oof!”

“You say that like I did it on purpose!” Luz cried, wincing from the boots in his back. By the time George finally got his feet beneath him, Roe was already looking at Malarkey’s side, inspecting his injury.

The Cajun grimaced and shook his head. “It might be broke, Malark. We should get you to the aid station,” Roe spoke thoughtfully. "Which way sho-" Before the medic could finish his thought, all the boys realized something. They had no idea where they were.

The boys all looked around and took in their surroundings. “Where the fuck are we?” each soldier thought to himself, attempting to find a single scrap of familiarity in the landscape around them. The higher they looked, the taller the walls on either side of the group grew - not tall enough to be skyscrapers, but tall enough to tell the ten men that they were not in Bastogne anymore. What was once a frigid warzone, one step away from death, now became… warm? Sunny? Well, it seemed sunny at the ends of the alleyway.

“...are we in an alley?” Bull mused to no one in particular. He absentmindedly chewed on his Emotional Support Cigar, using this to contain his anxious thoughts and energy.

"It appears so Bull…" Winters replied. He had intended for the sentence to be more assuring, but the men's leader was just as confused as the rest of them. The captain exchanged a glance with Nixon beside him, the only man he was comfortable sharing his worry with. The two looked at each other, their eyes conveying confusion mixed with anxiety - how could this happen? What exactly happened?

"Captain Nixon, you're an intelligence officer right? Do you know where we are sir?" Guarnere asked as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, still taking in the alley around them. The brick buildings on either side of the men provided shade from the sun shining down on the pavement. The alley appeared to be barren, save for a Hershey bar wrapper beside Luz's feet. Bending down to get a closer look, the radioman saw a piece of text on the wrapper that morphed his confusion into panic - "expires January 2023." Before Nixon could answer Guarnere, Luz's shaky voice spoke up.

"Um, Captain Winters? You might wanna see this sir," Luz said as he handed the wrapper to his CO, his mind going a mile a minute. Dick took the wrapper from George and saw the text, scrunching his face as he read the expiration date.

"Nix, how long does it take chocolate to expire?" Winters asked, looking up at his captain.

"Why the hell do you think I'd know that?" Nixon replied, one eyebrow halfway up his forehead. Only after Lewis posed his question did he see the infamous date on the wrapper. Nixon paused for a second before he spoke up, "well surely it would expire way before 2023…"

Upon hearing the year, every man's eyes became the size of dinner plates. "Excuse me, sir? I think I heard you wrong, sounded like you said 2023," Liebgott questioned, a nervous chuckle following his words. He couldn't have heard Nixon right…right? Winters simply handed the wrapper over to Liebgott, the poor man's stomach dropping down below his feet.

"That's not possible, this isn't possible…" Toye muttered under his breath, trying to shake the idea from his head. While all the men were trying to process what Nixon said, Speirs had already made his way to the end of the alley.

"Captain Winters!" He called out, twisting his body to call out behind where he was standing. Winters nodded to Nixon, a silent request to keep an eye on his men, before making his way down to Speirs. The warm sun at the end of the alley was a welcomed surprise to Dick - it felt like forever since he felt mild, comfortable weather. Bastogne was the literal manifestation of hell frozen over, and the sun kissing Dick's skin was its absolute anathema. "Sir, I don't think this is Bastogne," Speirs' comment shook Winters from his mind, reminding the captain of the problem at hand. The two took in the scene around them. Winters thought he was seeing cars - they had four wheels, and they were driving on the street, but they were far beyond any car anyone in the company has ever seen before. The soldiers seem to have landed in a city of some kind. All the street signs were in English, giving Winters a small amount of relief - wherever they were, they spoke the language. Something different stood out to Speirs, though… the noise. It was not bombs exploding and trees breaking like in Bastogne. It was just as loud, but more…lively? The sounds, whatever they were, seemed to celebrate life rather than take it - honking horns, vehicles driving by, music Speirs had never heard before blaring from their windows - he would never admit to it, but Speirs felt a pang of relief knowing he was not in a war zone.

"I'm inclined to agree with you, Ron," Dick replied before hearing their medic call out.

"Sir! We need to get Malarkey to the ai- uh… I guess a hospital," Eugene called out as he made his way towards Winters and Speirs, supporting Easy's other redhead on his shoulder. Malarkey's face twisted in pain as he held his side with the arm that was not slung over Roe's shoulders. Dick nodded in understanding at his medic and stepped a foot out of the alley, getting a better look at the buildings around him. To his right, Winters spotted the red cross universally associated with medicine displayed prominently on a tall, light-colored building riddled with mirrored windows. Beneath the cross were the words "Emergency Room."

"You think they can help Malarkey?" Speirs asked, hopeful but confused at the words. Seeing Roe holding up Malarkey, the officer quickly made his way to Malarkey's other side, taking his arm over his shoulder to help the soldier.

"It's worth a shot, wait here," Winters replied, heading back to the rest of the men to tell them the plan. "Alright men, there's a place that looks like a hospital a short walk from here. Keep your guard up. Just because it doesn't look like Bastogne, doesn't mean we're in friendly territory," he instructed the six men before him, "Keep Speirs, Malarkey, and Roe in the center, I'll lead the way to the hospital." A chorus of "yes sirs" was heard from Luz, Liebgott, Guarnere, Toye, and Bull, while Nixon nodded in understanding and walked up beside Winters.

"Are you sure about this?" Nixon asked under his breath, ensuring only Winters heard his question.

"Got any better ideas?" Dick replied, cautiously emerging onto the sidewalk. The men left the safe haven of their alley and began the trek to save their friend.

~~~~~

Chapter Two

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me what you think and be on the lookout for Chapter 2: the Hospital!!

Taglist: @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @executethyself35 , @stolen94 , @dontirrigateme

[blueberry-ovaries]

CHAPTER ONE: HELL IS A SANDY TOWN IN NORTH AFRICA

A/N: i’m so excited to present the first chapter of hiraeth! I really hope you guys love Winnie as much as I do! thank you all so much for the love <3

Word count: 1.9k

Content warnings: violence, swearing, reference to implied extreme violence (only before and after, no detailed description), probably historical inaccuracy

< prologue > - < next chapter >

The sand in Tobruk was different to the sand at the beach Winnie decided. In Tobruk, it was sharp. Small flecks leaving traces of dirt on her cheeks, specks of blood blooming against her skin. Her rucksack held diminished resources, her bandages covered in a layer of dust and grime. Her MRE supply dwindling every time the hot dessert was drowned under a blanket of night. Sometimes they had fires, but most of the time they were left to huddle together, utilising bodies for warmth.

Fires drew attention and attention drew bullets. Being surrounded on three of the four sides was relentless work, fighting and survival. Much more so when the fourth side was a small shipping dock. A dock that may seem irrelevant, but in the grand scheme of the war, that small little dock could change the course of the war in Europe.

Severely out numbered and surrounded, the Allies were forced to fight for mere inches of land. The Germans would not get to the dock. So they dug in. Put the hospital underneath an old tree in the hardened sand, and rationed their food for months on end.

Silver marks littered her skin, scars showcasing her survival. Seven in total, the largest, one running from nose to cheek on her right side. In her fourth month in Tobruk, A small squad of German soldiers broke the line, guns raised and bayonets fastened. They charged Winnie and her squad, a small group watching the line. Their guns lay forgotten next to their game of cards, as they fought with fists and rocks.

Winnie was pinned. An arm against her neck, knife to cheek. Squirming against the hot sand as her cheeks flush with exertion. He flicks a look down her face, ah a woman- a girl. Such a shame that a pretty thing like you is stuck in such a horrible place. His breath was hot against her skin as she pushed against him, his arms much more refined than that of a sixteen year old girl. Tell me, how do they treat a pretty thing like you? She spits, he flinches back, a snarl on his lips. stupid bitch he growls, as he presses down on her neck, his forearm cutting off air supply. He slices the knife down, the top of her nose to her right cheek. Blood streams down her chin as she screams. She was going to die, afraid and pinned.

His arms move to pin hers above her head as she writhes and squirms against it. Her chest heaved, eyes darting frantically. out. she needed to get out. The sting of the blade cutting through flesh holds no place in her mind. out. out. out. His free arm holds her face in a loose grip, he spits out threats of a slow death and insults.

As he moves the hand on her face towards her neck with a firm hand, and his face pressed near her ear, the world freezes. It’s just Winnie and the german soldier, and one of them would die tonight. Her arms can’t break free to reach the knife, his legs have caged hers down. So like a rabid dog, she bares teeth.

When the pounding in her ears becomes a soft ringing and her chest no longer racks with shuddered breaths. The metallic taste on her tongue drips from her chin. She looks down at her hands, shaking. His blood pools around him, shining in the reflection of the moon. i’m a monster. i’m a monster… or maybe a dog backed into a corner, forced to bare teeth and bite.

—

5th of August, 1942

With a gasp she shoots to a sitting position, the room blurry with sleep. Chest heaving Winnie swings her socked feet onto the ground, hands tangled in her hair. Her shirt sticks to her back although it’s cold and coming into winter.

Two days ago, Winnie was stationed at the Toccoa Georgia Base camp, where she would join the 2nd Battalion ,506th parachute infantry regiment, 101st division, easy company. She’s told they are going to be the best of the best. If you asked her, she would say they can’t be that good if they are yanks.

Today is the day. She meets her new platoon, new faces, same issues. Colonel Sink had graciously taken in the teen, assuring her commander in the ANZAC’s that she would fit right in, if she’s really as good as they say.

The morning wake up happened shortly after Winnie was dressed, packed and ready to go. Swinging her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her new yank hat. She made her way towards Colonel sinks office.

With a firm hand she knocks, straightening out her ever crooked collar

“Come in” the colonels gruff voice calls from behind the door

taking a shuddering breath, Winnie opens the door, walking in, standing with her hands behind her back. Frowning slightly at the odd looks she’s receiving

“Oh, right sorry” she mumbles, standing at attention.

As Colonel Sink gives her a salute in return she stands with her arms tucked behind her back. She shifts on her feet, picking at the skin around her nails.

“Colonel Sink, sir? i was asked to come and see you” she states hesitatingly “Winifred Hayes, your new-“

“I know who you are sergeant” the Colonel cuts her off. The older man pushes up on his desk to a stand, walking around to lean on the front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at her.

“Right. of course… sir” she answers quickly

“Do you know why you’re here Miss Hayes?” he asks firmly. Although older, and his hair more grey than brown, Colonel Sink held an aura of respect that was hard to not obey. Even someone like Winnie, who grew up in an informal setting, and called her previous leaders and CO’s various nicknames, knew that the man was someone to be respected. That’s not to say she held no respect for her previous CO’s, no. She respected them greatly, but the jump from Australian to American norms was a shock.

“To serve… sir?” Winnie stutters slightly, trying to remember that sir is used more consistent here. It was rather bothersome.

“Well i would hope so Miss Hayes” He answers with a light chuckle. “you are here because, you’re good.”

“Sir…?” Winnie frowns. Of course she was good.

“Never in all my years in the army have I heard of a woman, much less a girl, fighting in a war, to the extent you have, no less” He congratulates “And there ain’t much of you either! Look at you!” With a wheezy laugh the Colonel claps a hand over her shoulder

“Oh… well thank you… Sir” confused and quite frankly startled at the congratulations, Winnie picks up her bag, following Colonel Sink outside

“Now, don’t be too startled by your new CO. He’s tough, but i think you’ll fit right in with the men. Easy company is going to be our best” he explains, Winnie nodding along “Don’t expect him to go easy on you just ‘cause you’re a girl either, he’s gone treat you the same as the men”

The mans southern accent was quite odd. Winnie couldn’t place where it was from. Not that she knew much about southern accents

“Now, unfortunately we don’t have the space for a women’s only area, so you’re just gone have to figure it out with the men” Colonel Sink kept a firm grip on her shoulder as he walked towards, what Winnie assumes is her new company.

“Lieutenant Sobel, Winters” Colonel Sink returns the salute “This here is your new easy company member”

“…Sirs” Winnie salutes the two men, giving an awkward smile as they return it.

“Now i got some business to attend to, i trust she will be fine in your capable hands?” The Colonel finalises as he leaves

——

Winnie had never wanted the ground to swallow her whole more than she does right now.

She’s standing. In front of all of Easy company, as they stare at her. She can’t tell if it’s curiosity, hate or confusion.

“Men.” Sobel yells “Colonel Sink has decided that we deserved to be punished, in some form. At least that is the only reason i can think that a girl has been placed in our platoon”

Winnie pulls a face of disgust… or maybe it’s anger. Before she realises where she was and quickly stares blankly. An awkward silence had fallen over the group as she shifted her, rather heavy mind you, bag on her shoulder

“I expect each and every one of you to treat her” Sobel was glaring at her, she could feel the disgust in his eyes and words “how she deserves to be treated.”

Swallowing what she was sure was a string of curses Winnie feels a hand in her shoulder, Lieutenant Winters… was it?… And all the Easy men were gone. She had zoned out. again.

“Winifred Hayes was it?” The red headed man asked “Lieutenant Winters”

He held his hand out expectantly. She shook it firmly. Just like dad taught. Before being led away from the training ground

“Yes, although just Winnie is fine” with an appreciative smile she follows his lead “Only my grandmother calls me Winifred”

“Well just Winnie… Dick is also fine, when it’s not a formal setting of course” He smirked

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to upset a formal setting” Winnie answered with an awkward smile

“Let me grab that for you” Dick offered, reaching for her bag

“Oh… it’s really no worry, it’s probably pretty heavy” She mumbles as she rubbed the back of her neck

“I insist. It’s the least i could do after watching you stand in-front of the men like that” Instantly he took her bag from her shoulder “The men aren’t as bad as they look. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine… although many of them haven’t expected a girl at training”

“It’s fine. Not many people do” Winnie answers honestly, the steps to the barracks creaking under the weight of the two of them

The door creaks open, the shuffling inside the room freezing at the intrusion of the two new people, card games lay on various beds, feet kicked up with books and magazines being read. Instantly the men all stand to salute

“At ease gentlemen” Winters salutes back

The men fall back into a relaxed stance, staring… glaring? at Winnie. She gives an awkward smile.

“Gentlemen, this is Winnie Hayes, she’s new to Easy.” Winnie shifts on her feet “i expect you all to be kind to her, show her around. She’s one of us now, and she may just have some… wisdom to pass on”

Dick places her bag on an empty bed between two men, one a surly looking man with a sharp jaw, the other a red headed man who somehow had three people squashed onto his bed. The atmosphere only became more tense as Lieutenant Winters left, the door slamming behind him

“Where you from?” the surly man questioned, his accent was different to Colonel Sinks and Lieutenant Winters, it was more rough around the edges

“Why the fuck you wanna know?” She answers crossing her arms over her chest.

The surly man raises an eyebrow. great fucking going Winnie, piss off the first person you talk to. But to her surprise his lip quirks in a smile

“You got some bite to ya” he smirks.

She goes to answer as the door slams open again really should get that fixed. Sobel stands in the doorway, a glare on his face as he yells

“Get dressed we’re running Currahee”

A overall groan leaves the men after he leaves. Winnie just had one question…what the fuck was a currahee?

——

A/N: Winnie’s hatred for Americans will be explained! although it’s not a proper hatred

TAG LIST: @malarkgirlypop @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @bucky32557038ww2 @grumpy-liebgott @executethyself35

[zamadness]

Currahee Companion

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ᴀɴʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʙᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜱ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴀꜱ ɴᴏ ᴅɪꜱʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ʜᴇʀᴏ’ꜱ.

Might not fallow the miniseries to 100%.

The last week of training at Currahee was nothing short of grueling. Every morning, the men lined up for the long run up the mountain, the sweat stinging their eyes as they trudged up the steep incline.

Viv had watched from the sidelines at first, ensuring the men were all accounted for. But it wasn’t long before she noticed something. Scout was standing at the very front of the line, tail wagging as if she couldn’t wait to get started.

“Looks like she’s ready to outpace them,” Viv chuckled to herself, keeping a sharp eye on the men.

Dick, ever the observant one, leaned over to Viv with a grin. “You think she’s going to show them how it’s done?”

Viv shot him a sideways glance. “I’m certain. She’s been running that hill with us every night. She’s practically part of the squad by now.”

Sobel, who had been watching the men struggle on the run, looked at Scout and scowled. “No dog should be out here with them. It’s a distraction,” he muttered, his voice full of irritation.

Viv bristled but kept quiet, focusing on Scout as the dog bounced from one foot to the next, clearly eager to get started. She had no intention of letting Sobel ruin the moment.

“Alright, Scout,” Viv called. “Show them how it’s done.”

With a sharp bark, Scout tore off, bounding up the mountain ahead of the men. The soldiers, already struggling with the incline, watched as she moved faster and faster, her paws thundering against the earth.

As she passed a few of the men, they couldn’t help but laugh.

“She’s really doing it!” Luz gasped, watching Scout’s ears flap in the wind as she led the charge.

Dick jogged beside Viv, a proud smile on his face. “She’s going to make them all look bad, isn’t she?”

Viv laughed softly. “She already has.”

By the time Scout reached the peak, the men were still far behind, but they had a new fire in their eyes. Watching the dog race to the top of Currahee gave them renewed energy. If Scout could do it, surely they could.

Sobel, though, was fuming at the sight of Scout reaching the top first.

“That dog has no place out here!” he snapped, hands on his hips.

Viv shot him a calm look. “She has every right to be here. If you want to keep up, maybe you should try running faster.”

The men—who had begun catching up—broke into laughter as they reached the summit. Even Sobel couldn’t suppress a small chuckle.

As Scout stood on the peak, tail wagging, proud as could be, she turned back toward the men. She gave them a single, bark-filled look, almost like she was saying, Is that all you’ve got?

Band of Brothers Masterlist

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Episode Tie-In: Currahee Masterpost