𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; band of brothers ✔

PART EIGHTEEN

Word count; 2,487

Frances

Eugene wrapped the metal mug in a cloth before handing it over, the handles having snapped off at some point in the past. I sipped on the coffee, the bitter taste sitting on my tongue as I gulped it down.

"A-Are you really here just for Christmas?" The medic asked, his voice muffled due to his chin still resting in his elbow.

I nodded gently, sparing the briefest of smiles, "Yeah, sounds silly, huh, hon?"

"To say the least," He muttered.

"Do you like Christmas?" I tried to make conversation.

He tilted his head, "Not here."

"Home, then?"

"Didn't really do Christmas there, either." He chuckled awkwardly. "We'd go to church but that was it. No money for the celebrations."

"Right." I savoured the words, the short story that said so much regarding who Eugene was, and how he turned out the way he was. "Well, I brought you a present."

That foreign glimmer in his eyes resurfaced, a spark of hope.

"Don't tell anyone. It was going to be for later, before I left, but..." I dug through my pocket, revealing a small steel keychain. "You can have it now."

I held it out and, cautiously, he took it, smudging his thumb over the metal. Slowly, a smile appeared on his lips.

"It's a-"

I cut him off, "It's a compass."

We both giggled quietly together.

"So I don't get lost... again... and neither do you."

He wiggled the small arms and legs on the compass, the keychain bearing a smiley face too, as if it were a cartoon character.

"Thank you." He enclosed it in his palm.

I sipped on the coffee once more. When my eyes settled on him again, he was examining his knuckles, the compass beneath them.

"If you have something to say," I looked beneath his brows, how I would if I were talking to one of the children from my teaching placements. "You can say it, you know?"

"I just-" His throat moved as he swallowed. "I don't really understand why you're here. After... everything."

"I often wonder the same." I smiled lightly, looking across the white plain behind him, the sound of bullets echoing from the distance. "I guess... I don't know."

"Tell me."

I dug through each and every thought. Where the hell was Dog Company?

"I was asked. I was asked if I wanted to come. If I said no, I wouldn't have been able to see any of you again. And I guess... I don't know, it's silly."

"Tell me." He iterated.

"I don't think I would've been able to do that." I chuckled awkwardly. "Despite everything. It has been so, I don't know, unbearable. Each thing I've done since Holland hasn't been an instinct. I'm always tripping over myself. When I wake up, it's all I think of. When I fall asleep, it's the same. On repeat. Over and over.

Despite everything. I went from a stranger to a, I don't know, a somebody. And I mean, you remember what it was like that first night. What the men said. We both knew there would be no chance of my inclusion. Yet, there was. Either through my magic tricks or the way I spoke.