The Golden Soldier (Call of Duty: WW2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 40

The loss of Turner had completely changed me without a doubt. I grew colder and more focused on being a soldier. I found that the rough times of not being able to wash up or eat were easier. Killing started to become less of a painful experience.
Losing Zussman magnified the killing part. I wanted to kill every last one of the Krauts to find him. Dead or alive, I wanted to see him. A man like him didn't deserve to die in the place of war. He deserved an honest, honorable funeral and a comfortable casket.
I wasn't the only one struggling with it. I knew Daniels, who was out of the front lines from his wounds, was fuming. He likely wanted to go on the same killing spree I did to get his friend back. However, he was stuck on a cot.
With Daniels' actions, Pierson had the perfect excuse to get him out of the platoon. Daniels would be seeing the states in nothing but a few weeks. I felt relieved one less person I cared about would be out in harm's way.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?"
I moved my gaze to where Stiles had wandered over to the canopy I stood under. It had only been a few days since Zussman's capture and Stiles' face was still showing the signs. His wound had been more properly cleaned up, between stitching and gauze, but it was still something to cringe at.
I uncrossed my arms. "Stupid thoughts, that's all."
"I'm curious," Stiles sat on a stool nearby, ready for me to pull his stitches.
"I just want Zuss back," I swallowed as I took off his glasses. "I'm thinking of idiotic ways to get to him."
Stiles was cringing as I pulled the stitches out one by one.
"Jewish POWs don't do well in camps," I reminded softly, trying to avoid thinking of what could happen to him. "But never mind that conversation. How do you feel?"
"Like a building collapsed on me."
"Funny," I huffed and then examined the wound on its own. "Good news, I won't put new stitches in. Just make sure you don't do anything too crazy."
"I'll try not to."
I finished cleaning up the gauze and then put another ointment on Stiles' temple. He was calm, looking out past me as I worked. His demeanor almost made me jealous.
"Have you seen Pierson in the last few days?"
"He's probably drinking himself away," I looked towards the command tent, privately covered on all sides.
"You should talk to him."
"Me?" I huffed. "I'm not getting my head bit off."
"If any of us go in there it won't end well."
"What makes you think that it will go any better if I do?"
Stiles shrugged. "It's just a suggestion. We need our Sergeant."
I let out a sigh. "What will you do for me if I go in there?"
"Give you a shoulder rub," Aiello joked as he came within earshot.
"As appealing as that is, I won't have shoulders to rub if I go in there."
"Oh just do it," Aiello rolled his eyes.
I let Stiles get up and then looked once more to the tent. While before it had been intimidating, I only found it puny now. The tent held back a beast that no one could seem to handle except myself.
"I won't go in there," I heard myself say. "I'm going for a walk."
Aiello stepped in my path. "Look, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Since when have I cared about whether an idea is good or not?"
Aiello said nothing as he let me slip past him. I walked out and away from camp until I could no longer hear the clanking of supplies or the muttering of soldiers. It happened to be out on an overlooking cliff.
My rifle was resting across my lap as I sat on a fallen tree and gazed at the open scenery. Truly I was looking for something to shoot at. A rabbit or a German...anything would do.
I was still the entire time, feeling my body stiffen to the lack of movement. When it was finally time to return to camp, I would be slow to move; the cold liked to do that to muscles when they were still for too long. It's why everyone hated sleeping.
I wasn't out very long until I heard the crunching of boots on snow. My eyes flickered over to where Stiles was joining me on the secluded hill and a hint of annoyance went through me.
"Why did you follow me?"
"I had to make sure you were okay. It's dangerous to stray this far from camp alone."
"It's also easier to avoid enemies with less people," I grumbled out, crossing my arms while Stiles sat next to me. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right, say whatever you need to Ava," Stiles looked out at the scenery, the sun beginning to set out to the right.
Silence fell over us as we studied the scene in a strange relief of peace. I'd never come to appreciate a sunset so dearly, especially how the orange plastered the clouds to reflect purple against the sun. In my situation I never knew when I'd see the next sunset.
"What's this all coming to?"
Stiles' chin raised. "An end, hopefully."
"What will happen after this?" I paused. "To me?"
"You'll have to figure it out," Stiles thought a moment.. "Since you didn't take the chance to go home when you had it."
"Like I had a choice."
"But you did, didn't you?" Stiles glanced at me, his expression surprisingly fierce. "Your hand was right there. Why didn't you do it?"
I opened my mouth and then closed it, unable to answer him immediately. Why had I not taken the chance? A mere inches from going back home and I hadn't taken it. Now the only known way home was gone forever.
"I don't know."
He huffed, pushing his glasses up. "You have no way back now."
"You don't think I know that?" I stood, leaving my gun next to the log. "Stiles, you don't have to tell me that I can't go back to my time now. I know that! I've had the damn mindset since getting here in the first place, so what difference is it going to make?"
Tears tugged at the corners of my eyes and I blinked multiple times to get them to stop. I couldn't cry in front of this young soldier who I'd always tried to be strong around. Crying in front of him would only give him weakness and I wouldn't allow him to deal with that. I couldn't.
"I found I couldn't leave them," I motioned back to the direction of camp. "Everything I've come to know has been them and you and this gory world. I know there's a home waiting for me in the future, but right then and there I couldn't imagine it. My home...it's become here."
Stiles was quiet, watching me through wide eyes. I let out a breath, finally stepping towards him a half-step. He stayed neutral, open to whatever venting I needed. He was the perfect listener.
"Come here," were the only two words he whispered.
I fell downwards into his embrace, finding my tears exploding into his shoulder. My body quivered as I collapsed into his lap, crying against Stiles. He held my helmet and rubbed my mid-back comfortingly.
I pulled back to meet a man with a goofy grin and crooked glasses. His features held onto the bandage covering up a healing wound. Though young, his brown eyes held a sense of knowing without ever being told.
"Thank you, Stiles," I sniffled. "You didn't need to see me like this."
"Anything for you Ava," he cupped my right cheek for a split second. "We're war family. It's okay to see each other like this."
I nodded and wiped my eyes. Stiles shifted me on his leg, smiling upwards at my face still trying to calm itself from the breakdown. He would've stayed there as that support all night.
"We should head back to camp," I blinked, "before Pierson has our hides."
Stiles smirked and then shifted me off him as he stood. I grasped my rifle and began walking after him, following his longer strides in the snow. I realized that the steps didn't sink down as far which meant, even slowly, the snow was beginning to melt in places.
"Ava--Baker!"
I started at the hurried and flustered sound of Aiello's voice. "Aiello? What's wrong?"
"I got two medics in there now, but I don't know if they're helping," he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
"Aiello," I grabbed him forcefully, making him look at me directly. "Who are you talking about?"
"I went to check on Pierson cause we hadn't seen him and he...isn't too good."
My eyes widened and I looked to Stiles. "Grab me my big med kit in the tent, would you?"
Stiles darted off to follow the commands. I followed Aiello, who was heading back to Pierson's command tent in a rush, and blew into the tent. Two men who had minimal experience in the medical field--at least in my time period views--were near Pierson, trying to get him to sit on a cot.
"Oh great," Pierson grunted, sweat coating his brow, as he watched me enter.
"Give 'em space," Aiello shoved the two away from Pierson as I pushed through to reach the sergeant. "What do you think Baker?"
I looked over Pierson, grabbing onto his arm even as he tried to swat it away. Sweat coated his forehead and he looked like he hadn't eaten in days. Sleep deprived was a light word to use for how the bags under his eyes bulged dark. His hair was messy and he was clumsy in his movements.
"I'm fine, get off me..."
"Boys," I glanced to the two worried mens' faces, "thank you for your help. Go have some chow and settle for the night, I'll take our sergeant over."
The two nodded and then they slipped from the tent. Aiello stood almost frozen, nervously wringing his wrists. It showed he cared about Pierson and what would happen to him. Despite him being a complete ass, there was a sense of respect there.
Pierson shrugged again. "Leave me alone."
"What do you need out of this?" Stiles panted as he entered the tent.
"I need a cool bucket of water and a small towel," I murmured, fighting against Pierson's weak attempts to shrug me away. "I'll go through the supplies. Set it there on the table."
Aiello bolted for the bucket of water while Stiles obeyed my other requests. He eyed Pierson warily, as if seeing him this way made him nervous; he wasn't the only one. Though he didn't say anything, I knew there was quite a bit on his mind.
"Thank you both," I tore my gaze from examining the wiggling Pierson to them. "I need you to leave so I can get him to settle. Go get some food."
"Take care of him, Ava," Aiello was dizzy as Stiles led him out.
"Leave it be," Pierson groaned, trying to get away from my firm grasp.
"Sit down you," I gently guided him down onto the cot. "I'm trying to help."
"I'm fine," Pierson grunted as I felt his raging forehead.
"Define the word fine," I smiled in slight amusement as I dipped the cloth in the cold water. "You have the worst fever I've ever felt."
Pierson groaned in relief when I pressed the cold compress to his head. I held it there until he took over and did it himself. My hands then scurried through my med kit to find fever reducers.
"Why didn't you leave?"
I smiled once more to Pierson's words. "That seems to be a common question for me."
Pierson took the pills and water I offered him. He shot both down without breaking his glare. I took the canteen back, making sure it was closed.
"I'll have to tell you about it later," I mused. "Right now, your focus needs to be resting."
"I don't need rest, I'm fine."
I raised an eyebrow. "Don't make me check your temperature to prove you wrong."
Pierson doubled back and then crossed his arms, tilting his head back so the cold rag wouldn't slide off. He already looked much more relieved.
"Lay down," I suggested, fixing up his cot as he reluctantly obeyed.
Pierson stared up at me as I took the rag and dipped it into the bucket of water again. His dark eyes squinted in the lantern light as I set the cloth on his head again. I peeled his hair back from his face, realizing how greasy and oily it was from not being tended to.
"I feel like being dead would feel better."
"No, no," I sat at the edge of his cot. "Don't say that. We can't have another platoon leader die. We need you."
Though the words brought back painful memories, they were true. Pierson frowned, his fingers lacing themselves through my own relaxed ones. I let him do whatever he needed to feel relaxed and get rest.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Right," I smirked, "you're much too stubborn to go like this."
Pierson narrowed his eyes.
"It'd be an interesting story to tell however," I winced as he squeezed my hand. "Don't worry, I'd make you sound like a heroic asshole to the very end."
Pierson moved to sit up, but I gently pushed him back down. He looked up in surprised defeat, his face twisting in frustration. I released his hand to dim down the lanterns and renew his rag.
The sight of Pierson like this was rather shattering. While he still had strength, it was likely a good thing Aiello had checked in on him when he had. Pierson wasn't sick, but he had come down with something. What it could've turned into if I hadn't gotten here in time...that wasn't something I wanted to think about.
He wasn't exactly out of the hole he was in either. I had to stay with him throughout the night and monitor him. Nothing would happen to him on my watch...I hoped.
"Ava?"
"Yeah Stiles?" I turned to face the sheepish man.
"I brought you both some leftovers."
"Thank you," I took the cans and then leaned into Stiles in a temporary hug. "Get some rest. I'll stay with him tonight."
Stiles disappeared with a nod.
"I hope this is your absolute favorite," I glanced into the rations. "Meat and potato stew."
"I hate potatoes."
"Too bad," I smiled and forced the single spoon between the two cans towards him.
Pierson's face twisted in disgust. "I won't let you feed me."
"Oh relax, no one's watching," I chuckled.
Pierson suddenly sat up, clutching onto the can and the spoon in one fluent motion. At the same time he grabbed the food, his face leaned forwards until he could slyly peck my cheek. I let out a breath of shock and sat up straight.
"Thank you," he blinked. "You're the only one I trust to actually help me."
"You only need a swift kick in the ass," I joked, earning a glare.
I let him eat with the spoon, deciding to slurp up the rest of the can I kept for myself. I'd made sure he'd gotten more so that he could keep his strength up as much as possible. If whatever he had happened to get worse, he'd need it.
"Now get some sleep," I stood and took his ration, setting them both on the table in the tent.
Pierson shifted into his sleeping bag. "What about you?"
"Don't worry about me. You never have before."
His eyes drooped closed in a sleepy manner. "I always have."
My breath cut off as I watched him settle for sleep. He sure had a funny way of showing it, especially in the beginning. I sat on the bench of the main table, glancing over the maps situated there. It looked like direct attacks on the Rhine were going to be made in the next few months.
It was time for this to end and for us to go home...or at least the boys. I didn't know what I'd do upon returning to America. Work? Run? Hide in alleys with the other homeless people?
I couldn't think that far ahead. There was still a war to fight in, one that would take my very life at any chance it had. With only two of the boys left to fight alongside, I had to keep my focus. No one else I cared about would go anywhere.
The chattering of teeth brought me out of my trance of thought and I turned my torso to gaze at Pierson. He was now the complete opposite of a burning fever, shivering in his sack. I rushed to his side, touching his hand...frozen to the touch.
"Dammit," I grumbled, feeling his head still slightly warm.
He needed something more to break the fever. That was the difficult part to come up with. I turned around to look for more blankets, searching the tent like my life depended on it.
I stopped when I found nothing, letting out a groan of annoyance. Of course nothing would be so easy as to provide itself. I paced around until my last resort came to mind.
Pierson had opened his eyes to watch me in silence, still shivering. I cautiously slipped my helmet and boots off--a dangerous thing to do in case of a night attack--and stepped closer to him bundled in the sleeping sack. I undid the entrance, slowly slipping down onto the cot with him.
He was as stiff and colder than a board and I ran my hands along his outer arm to try and warm him. Pierson wiggled, blinking in the dim lighting, and then shoved his freezing hands into my upper abdomen.
"Fuck, you're cold," I wheezed, pressing closer to him. "How is this possible in ten minutes?"
Pierson shrugged. "I don't even know what's happening to me."
"You better not be dying."
"Or giving you what I have," his dark eyes narrowed. "You can't get sick, Avaline."
My whole name from his lips gave me chills. "I know."
Pierson dipped his head and then settled down onto the cot more. I felt his outer muscular arm weave underneath the material to wrap around me, caging me into his hold. My palms pressed flat against his chest and I let out a breath.
I was quick to fall asleep as the warmth between us spread.    

--•--•--•--

Okay, this book still exists, I'm still alive...I can't believe its been close to a month since updating. To be honest, some writer's block snagged me for the first time since publishing this thing. Won't happen again, I promise!
Despite the wait, I hope you enjoyed!
Song: Hang On a Little Longer by UNSECRET (ft. Ruelle)
~MS~