Shadows of the World » Band of Brothers

39: So Short, So Long

"Love is so short, forgetting is so long." - Pablo Neruda, Tonight I can write (the saddest lines)

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Being back in Aldbourne was bittersweet. It was all Juliette had longed for and dreamed of for nearly three months, but stepping back into that house brought back so many memories. Too many memories. Memories of Alex lounging in the armchair, watching them all shot back alcohol like it was water with obvious disapproval but a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Memories of him shaking his head at their antics in the kitchen, playing the mediator whilst her and Thomas argued over something stupid.

It had taken HQ a week to get them out of Paris. A week devoid of missions to distract them, because their faces were now all considered compromised, and filled with visions of poorly hidden smiles and reluctant laughs that they would never get to see again.

A whole week without Alex. Juliette didn't know how they'd done it.

Now that they were back they would have to lay low for a while. Juliette was silently grateful that she had an excuse not to venture outside; she didn't think she could bear to see smiling, unassuming faces. It wasn't their fault, but she couldn't take it. And something inside of her, an instinct to punish herself, perhaps, reminded her almost constantly that Alex had been shot whilst pushing her behind him. The bullet that killed him had likely been meant for her. She was overwhelmed by self-loathing.

The moment they all got into the house, which had that strange chill in the air unique to places that have been left uninhabited for a while, they crowded into the living room. Jules and Tom shared the sofa, Will sat on the floor, and Martin leaned against the liquor cabinet. They left the armchair empty.

They all looked utterly exhausted.

"Who do you think they'll make CO?" Will wondered. His voice had come out quiet but still sounded loud in the silence of the room. They didn't bother to turn any lights on, letting the moonlight filtering in through the windows bathe the room in a gentle light.

Tom shrugged. "Martin, perhaps."

"Or you," Jules suggested, idly fiddling with the trousers of her jump uniform.

"They might send us a new one," Will suggested. The words seemed to emerge of their own accord and before he had processed them, for a most horrified expression spread across his face as soon as he'd uttered them.

"I hope they don't," Jules mumbled.

Martin shook his head. "I don't think they will. We've been working together for too long for them to send in someone else."

"And that team we rescued only had four members," Tom added. They all nodded, hopeful that Martin would be proven right.

"How are we going to go about blending in again?" Jules asked into the silence that followed. She glanced between the faces of the others and looked to the armchair instinctively before shutting her eyes and pursing her lips; that would take some getting used to. "We're not supposed to say we're living together but how will we explain why we've all been gone for almost three months?"

They each contemplated it, looking to each other for answers that none of them had. This would have been Alex's call.

"I suppose we can't really," Tom replied eventually, running a hand through his hair and leaving it resting on the back of his head. "Even if we tried to explain it they'd be suspicious; who leaves their supposed home town for three months, and over Christmas no less? Let alone an entire group of people. It's too shady."

"So what do we do?" Will asked, his eyebrows drawn together. He looked incredibly young as he sat there, bathed in moonlight and sitting cross-legged on the floor. He had always looked quite young for his age, though; he would be turning twenty-four soon, and didn't really look a day over nineteen.