Band of Brothers Imagines

Bill Guarnere

Soulmate Prompt #18 - "You can feel your soulmate's pain."
harleenquinn523
This made me unbelievably sad.
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Everyone has a soulmate. You tried to avoid pain because your soulmate felt the same pain you endured. You, a paranoid person, ever since you were a little girl, avoided even the slightest prick of a needle or the tiniest of a papercut. You did your best to avoid getting sick and to avoid emotional pain. Overall it worked well. Until you joined the army. As a nurse. You were assigned to an infantry unit and quickly made friends. You were sweet and social, a refreshing break from the sweat and tears of the military. But soon, as expected in war, your friends started to die. Slowly around you bodies began to drop.

It wasn't a shock. You knew you would lose people so you tried your hardest to power through it. And it worked. Then one day, as you were checking inventory and making a list of everything that needed to be restocked, you were rummaging through the storage closets when a small wooden box fell into your lap. Upon sliding back the creaking lid, your eyes landed upon a series of letters and pictures. All of them to, from, and of an old friend of yours. Nurse Sandra Brady. Sandy and you were close. It had been heartbreaking to hear the news of her death. You never did seem to find the time to grieve.

Looking at the box, you realized she must have hidden it there or just left it there and simply forgotten about it. It was overflowing with letters from her sweetheart John, a marine who was stationed in the Pacific ocean to fight the Japs. Seeing her photos and letters seem to bring back floods of memories of training with her and working with her to help the sea of injured men when Pearl Harbor had been attacked. All at once, as if a switch had been flipped, your feelings came crashing down onto you like an unexpected storm one might encounter leaving the market.

You could still hear the click of her heels sounding off like thunder in your brain. Her laughter cracking like lightening against your skull. The tears, coming in streams down your face like a sudden downpour or cloudburst, carried with them chunks of your mascara so that they now left black tracks in their wake. As your sobs shook your body you could feel your heart clenching with grief. This had been the first time in months that you had taken a moment to sit and cry. Sandy's death shattered your heart. You always thought the two of you would become old and senior best friends with grandchildren running around at your feet while your husbands, most probably war survivors, told stories of their "conquests" and missions to destroy Hitler and the Empire of Japan. That had always been the plan.

Now, with reality smacking you in the face, you realized that plans change. People die. She had been kind and pure. But she had also been in the wrong place at the wrong time. One Nazi bombing ended her life. She died while a German pilot lived to fight another day. Her heart, pride of your unit, beat steadily and then ended abruptly, cut off by an explosive shell of metal. You heard before of PTSD. Going through training you were told many soldiers would have it before this war was over. You never even began to think that nurses could get it too. Watching the light fade from Sandy's eyes as she choked on her blood with shards and debris stuck in her neck. In her last moments she knew only pain and fear and now with her death, John, her soulmate, would feel only pain and fear when greeted with her memories.

You thought you were hurt now but that hurt multiplied exponentially by the loss of a soulmate. If your soulmate was in this wretched war, he'd better come out in one piece. Or god have mercy on those Nazi bastards.

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You weren't expecting to be moved to the front lines but they needed nurses at the aid station in Bastogne. Especially since the last one was blown to hell and inconveniently most of the nurses and medics there were killed. So now here you were talking with a girl you met recently after the migration to Bastogne who was a nurse from the Pacific. You were met with a sharp pain in your legs that caused them to give out from under you. Elizabeth dropped down to your side and began to ask you questions. Her inquiries, however,  were cut short when she heard the rumbling of upcoming medical trucks and the shouting of orders from your superior. She came into the room to clear a workspace for the incoming patient. "Smith! What's wrong with her?!" "I don't know ma'am." "We'll get her on a table! We got a patient coming in who looks pretty bad. We need you to..."
You passed out, not hearing the remainder of the conversation.
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When you woke back up you felt much better but there was clenching around your heart that was undefinable. "Are you okay?" You heard suddenly. You responded on instinct. "I'm okay." Your head whipped around to the guy whose voice synced with yours. He was very handsome. You were on your feet in seconds, ignoring the slightly numb feeling, and walking over to him.

"Hello, Sergeant." You said paying special mind to his rank. You sat on the edge of his cot by the blanket that covered his legs. You placed your hand on his forehead feeling for a fever and then your index and middle finger on his wrist feeling for any sort of heart abnormality. Nothing. "If you don't mind me asking Sarge, what're you here for?" You focused no attention on his eyes that lingered on your face longer than any soldier that you had come across.

He slowly reached his hand towards the edge of the blanket. Curious, you stepped back keeping your eyes on the blanket at all times as he hesitantly pulled it back. One leg had bandages covering it but was intact while the other was just gone from the knee down. "Got it blown off n a barrage savin' me best friend. Took us both out n one try. Them dumb kraut bastards." His southern Philly accent was very thick and you could very clearly tell he was frustrated to have been pulled from the line.

You clutched his rough and calloused hand in your soft one. "Is your friend okay?" "Dunno yet." "I'm sorry Sarge. I can't imagine how tough this is for you." "I guess you can uh, call me Bill. Nd I guess it was tuff. Didn't pay no mind to it at foist. Me? I'm posed to be a paratrooper. Tuff sons of bitches. What's my soulmate gonna think when she finds me now huh? Cruel joke I guess."

The coincidence of the whole situation made your head spin. But maybe... "Hey, Bill?" "Uh-huh?" "Say about how long ago did this happen?" "Dunno. Maybe 3 or 4 hours ago." Had you really been out for four hours? "Bill I think I'm your soulmate." "I'd be so lucky." "I'm serious Bill I felt it. When you..." you trailed off not daring to finish the sentence and throw salt in an already fresh wound. Literally.

"I mean I guess I could be wrong but I felt everything. Not just the physical pain but the emotional trauma too. And the fear. Bill I just- I'm so so sorry." Bill moved up to a sitting position and kissed you full and hard on the lips. You leaned into the kiss savoring the taste of Lucky Strikes cigarettes and chocolate on his lips. As both of you broke away from the kiss Bill held your face in his hands, pushing your messy hair from your face. "Don't you ever, and I mean ever, apologize for this. This is not your fault. You had no control over this and getting disability is going to be hell but it will all be worth it cause I'll get to do all of this with you. I'll put a ring on this finger and we'll have tons of little ones runnin' around. I swear it to you."

Tears were running down your cheeks and his speech had made you so unbelievably emotional. "I love you so much Bill and I promise to be the best mother and wife."

"You're already there doll."