Genesis: the Beginning and the End | Band of Brothers

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ９ － Ｆｉｌｔｅｒ】

Chapter 9 - Filter

They stayed in and around Carentan for a few weeks, defending the town if necessary, but mostly supporting the movement of armour off the sands of Utah and Omaha beach.

Florence didn't mind, because in her head it meant she'd be going home soon. She didn't even care that before she could go home she'd have to go to London for a debriefing – one that could last for over a day – because she was so looking forward to stepping onto English soil.

She also did not mind as she was mostly left alone, being fabulously rude to anyone who so much as came near her. At least she had made a bad enough impression on the men that they didn't want to associate with her. Instead they whispered about her, being rude back when they thought she couldn't hear them to make the others laugh. The only contact she really had with them was Roe checking on her face, asking if she had any other injuries and her lying when she said no. Everyone could see her walking stiffly, would see her wince if she breathed too deep, and noticed her concussion getting steadily better – well maybe not everyone. People knew she was injured, but only Roe seemed to care enough to say anything as she had successfully alienated herself.

And besides, she couldn't remember how to make friends.

Not that that mattered, one of the rules of espionage was to not get attached.

People came and went, and everything passed her by. People stared and asked questions, but they too passed her by. What they wanted to know did not matter, and it was all things she had been asked before. They would ask someone else, move on and forget. It was the way things were. Everyday there were new faces, new noises, same questions. But with each new day, her head hurt less, breathing became easier and her bruises retreated.

None of those in charge whom she ought to have listened to if they told her anything asked her to go on any patrols or scouting missions.

She liked to think it was because she was injured, but knew it likely that they didn't trust her enough. However, Florence was sure she'd surprised everyone. She'd survived. There were times when she had surprised herself.

Men from First Platoon were arriving back, rushing actually. What had- oh. She saw Blithe being rushed to the aid station, then shortly back out again – probably to England.

Harry Welsh sat down heavily nearby, a deep sigh escaping him.

Florence watched him close his eyes. From where she sat, she was too far to tell if he fell asleep or not. Despite this, she thought that closing her eyes was an excellent idea and followed suit, letting sound surround her and painting a picture in her head with it.

Boots. Footsteps, tapping two boots together.

"Harry."

Dick Winters. He'd sat down beside Welsh, she thought, and Welsh asked about Winters' leg. When had he gotten a bullet? She hadn't seen it. Back when they took Carentan perhaps? Or even the day after?

"Stiff. Sore. They want me to take it easy for a few days."

"Yeah you should."

Harry Welsh sounded so very sleepy, like he'd hardly even opened his eyes yet. Winters continued, and Florence started to feel guilty about listening in.

"I talked to Colonel Sink; said he appreciates Easy holding the line." Welsh hummed to show he was still listening. "He said General Taylor was pleased."

When Welsh spoke next, he was quiet.

"That's why I came to France," he said slowly, pausing for a moment, though Florence knew not why as her eyes were still closed, "to please General Taylor."

Winters laughed, and she realised she'd never heard him laugh, but not surprised. It was nice to hear a proper chuckle again, as it'd been a while.

The pair sat quietly for a while, before one of them rose, and she guessed it to be Winters given that he spoke.

"We'll be moving to the field camp soon, get yourself a shower there – please."

Welsh laughed, and swore at him.

The footsteps were actually coming her way.

"Florence, you'll be pleased to know we're heading back to England soon, they're pulling us off the line."

Her eyes shot open, and she narrowed them at him, scrutinising him.

"If you're kidding I'll be displeased."

Well that was lame. Richard Winters raised an eyebrow at her, and she waved him off.

"I'm too tired to think of a violent threat to alienate myself with today." If it was even possible, his brow rose higher, and she elaborated. "Well you see I recently, very recently, resolved to put all my energy into healing what I have determined as at least three cracked ribs, a possible broken rib because that hurts more than what I imagine childbirth to feel like, hopefully only a slightly bruised coccyx, and all the bruising on my back and the front of my torso. Ergo, I am too tired to make people hate me today. And apparently too tired to have a filter, sorry about that sir."

It just slipped out. She hadn't meant to call him sir and it caught both of them off guard. Florence hadn't been that honest in a long time, she hadn't been allowed to. But it was nice. Winters knew she was being honest, just like he knew that most of the time she fed them absolute bullshit.

"I'm not kidding, there will be hot food and showers for a day or two, then we ship back."

A tired, but no less delighted, smile broke onto her face, and she looked younger somehow. She was going home.

_

So, after four years away from her country, she finally gets to go back. God, words...there aren't the words- no. I don't have the words to describe just how happy I am to be publishing this.

In other news, anyone watched SAS: Rogue Heroes?

Holy fuck that show is my new obsession. I don't think it's out in America yet but it is available on BBC iPlayer. I'm part way through episode 3 and I'm in love with it. If you've watched it, let me know and we can talk about it xxx