The Golden Soldier (Call of Duty: WW2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 45

It took me two weeks to heal to a point where I could get around on solid two legs. The medics didn't let me do much, forcing me to a cot ninety percent of the time; they never suspected my gender with the busy schedules or mindless bandage changing. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could.
Davis came by the camp on the fourteenth day of being trapped. I wanted to hide under a rock to avoid meeting him, but he insisted on checking in on everyone. I was forced to stay on my cot once more.
"You're from the First," Davis commented as he finally reached me.
He was an older man with grey hair and a grey mustache, a longer face. He held medals and badges on his pectorals to symbol his hard-earned rank of Colonel. Respect etched it's way into me.
"Yes sir."
"Baker, isn't it? Lieutenant Turner spoke of you more than once."
Fear coursed through me. "Sir."
Davis leaned closer on the stool he sat on, lowering his voice. "I know your situation, Avaline. I understand it's rather complicated."
I started coughing, the motion making my insides ache. Turner had told him? When and at what point? Or had it been Pierson? Either way, the revelation shocked me to my core.
"But that matter is less important than the reason why you're here," he sat straight. "How are you doing?"
"I'm ready to go back, sir."
Davis smiled an amused smile. "Fourteen days is not long enough for wounds like yours to heal."
"I mean no disrespect by this sir, but I can handle what I've suffered."
He fell silent, watching me in both curiosity and amazement. I was probably a fascination to him. A woman who could keep up with his men and not lose her shit entirely. A woman from the future who knew of most of the moves made in the Second World War. A woman who still, despite everything, wanted to go out and fight with her adopted platoon.
"Think you could get me out of here sir?"
Davis was surprised. "You still want to be out there?"
I nodded. "It's my duty. I have a mission to finish with all of them."
"You're in no position to be out there," he paused.
"Please sir," I blinked, my throat tightening. "If you know my situation, you know I don't give up easily."
"No," Davis shook his head. "To be able to convince the best of my men to let you fight...takes guts and courage. Stubbornness, as well."
I forced a polite smile and dipped my head.
"Turner spoke so highly of you and I couldn't understand why. Now I can," Davis blinked, as if reliving a memory. "You've become quite the soldier."
"Thank you sir," I tried to sit up straighter in my cot, yet the motion made my gut twinge.
"I will see what I can do for you," Davis promised, raising his head.

Three days later I was with the supply trucks on their way to the main camp set up just within the Rhine. Missions branched from it, especially because the location was secure. There, First Platoon took dives in search of Zussman and any other camp survivors; Davis had been detailed in his explanations.
I dismounted the back of the supply truck in a hurry. My rifle in my right hand was heavy, but I couldn't carry it in the left without severe pain. Casted, my left wrist had been a clean break with few adjustments to do. It would take multiple weeks to heal up.
My thigh was still bandaged, with less layers thankfully, and it left me with a limp that showed no matter how hard I tried to hide it. I wasn't slow walking with it, however running was painful. My head also throbbed when I ran, a sign of a major and lingering concussion. The scratch on the side of my face was also free of stitches, yet still carefully bandaged to avoid more puncture or stretching of the scab.
I moved through the camp towards the one place I knew I'd find someone recognizable: the command tent. I reached the obvious tent quickly and I found myself nervous to enter. What if Pierson forced me to return?
I swept through the flaps to find the tent empty except for supplies. Confusion spread through me and I turned to exit to continue my search for any of my platoon. Exiting, I looked over the camp once more and my breath caught.
They were coming in from a search for Zussman.
Recognizable by the red number one on each of their helmets and shoulders, the four men entering the camp were fatigued yet determined. Their faces were filthy and gruff, covered in the day's excursion. They held their rifles firmly. They looked like they'd seen and done it all.
Those were the men I'd missed so much over the days I'd been stuck behind the frontlines. Those were the men who had become a war family to me.
I walked forwards, set on meeting them before they split. My plan worked as we came closer together, none of them splitting nor seeing my arrival. I raised my chin and tried to hide my limp as I came into their view.
Aiello froze, the first one to see me as the other three kept moving. He practically dropped his gun as I came close enough for him to touch, to make sure I was real. The others finally paused a few strides ahead, glancing back.
"Am I just seeing you because I miss the hell outta you or are you actually here?"
"Aiello," I smiled, setting my rifle against the nearest crate and running into his free arm.
He gripped me in a tight hug. It hurt my ribcage, but I ignored it because hugging him was the best thing I could've imagined. Aiello kissed my cheek as we pulled away.
Stiles didn't say anything as he charged forwards and gently hugged me as well. Daniels joined in, sandwiching me. I let out a short fit of laughter, finally facing the most silent of them all.
He glared at me from underneath his furrowed brows, everything about him dark. His left cheek twitched as he subtly scanned the rest of me. I stepped closer, hoping for some sort of reaction besides a glare.
"Two and a half weeks isn't long enough for those wounds to heal."
"No," I stepped closer again. "I couldn't let you find him without me."
"Well you're in luck, we haven't found him yet," Pierson was cold.
I stepped close enough that I had to look up at his towering brute form. I lowered my voice so that the boys behind me couldn't hear. "That's how you're going to treat this situation. I clearly remember you ordering me to stay alive. I did. This is what I get?"
Pierson shook his head, voice also low. "Avaline, if we weren't where we are right now, there are many other ways I would greet you."
I grinned, happiness spreading through my chest. "Could you at least do a hug?"
Pierson said nothing as he took the final step to close the distance between us. He crushed me against his chest, holding my shoulders up against him. His hug hurt the worst, but I didn't care.
The very fact he did it publicly was enough to make everything okay.
I released him first, drawing away from him so I could pick up my rifle. "So, do we think we're close to finding him?"
"We haven't come across any camps yet," Daniels spoke up, "but we're on the right track."
"We were just calling it a day," Aiello explained.
"Good, cause the trip here wasn't easy," I sighed, unable to hide the fact that my wounds weren't exactly helpful.
"I'll start up some rations," Daniels announced and disappeared further into camp.