Genesis: the Beginning and the End | Band of Brothers

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ １４ － Ｓｕｎｒｉｓｅ】

Chapter 14 - Sunrise

"I am so going to get shot for this."

She grabbed the envelope from Nixon and practically fled the scene.

The trio was silent for a while, staring at the open door. Harry Welsh moved to shut it.

"Did anyone notice her hands?"

"Um, no, they were behind her back."

Both Nix and Winters hadn't been able to see her hands, so Harry explained.

"They were clasped behind her back. More specifically, her little fingers. Like she's a kid making a promise."

They thought on that for a moment, but only came up with more questions.

"How old is she anyway?"
"Can she be trusted?"

The trio wouldn't get the answer to those questions that day.

Margaret was stressed. Very.

And she was panicking. Genesis had abandoned her, so she had next to no filter.

Genesis was so much better at the whole talking thing than Margaret. Genesis had always been there to recover any conversation...well maybe not always. But she hadn't needed to talk to anyone other than her family from around age 9, then the death of her dad left her just Ripley to talk to because they both knew Mother wouldn't make conversation with them. Then Ripley left too, in the night before Mother's birthday, and she was stuck with only the hens and cows to talk to.

At 15 she was alone.

Being a grown-up was hard when you had no support. Growing up was hard with no support. That's where Genesis came in, Margaret guessed as she blindly stumbled back towards The Crown Inn to fetch her bag and sleep outside. She couldn't afford a room, not that she'd checked the prices, and officers were probably billeted in the rooms anyway. Where outside she would sleep, well, Margaret hadn't worked that out yet.

She couldn't go home, as the next bus wasn't until tomorrow. And it was at least a 9 hour walk she'd estimated, but it would be in the dark and she would have no idea where she was going – well she knew her final destination, just not how to get there.

It turned out that the meeting with Winters, Welsh and Nixon took much longer than she anticipated. It was early evening as she sat by the bus stop, on the other side of the pond.

As the temperature continued to drop, Margaret shivered. But it wasn't cold. Not really. Her home in winter was cold.

She sat on the bench, leaning against the side of the little shelter. Sleeping there was not a good idea, sleepy English Village did not mean she couldn't be robbed. So she didn't sleep. Not really. Only closing her eyes whilst her brain worked overtime.

How could she fix this? If she didn't do as ordered when those orders came, Margaret could kiss goodbye any chance she had of finding her mother. But did she really want to find her anymore?

Well of course. She was Mother. Margaret needed to know why. Why she left, why she wasn't good enough, why Ripley wasn't good enough.

Genesis was better at solving problems on the fly. But this was something Margaret needed to do herself.

Maybe she had dozed.

The next thing she was aware of was her grip tightening on her suitcase.

Opening one eye, there was a shadow leaning over her.

"Don't take my stuff. You wouldn't want to find out what happens when you do."

The shadow froze, not expecting to be caught, and fled.

Margaret wasn't scared of the dark. No. She feared what came with it. The memories that surfaced when there was nothing to occupy her mind. The shadows that lurked.

The sun was rising now. The birds launching into song.

And Margaret wept. It had been so long since she'd heard birdsong like this, where she was safe, herself and so very much alive. It was beautiful. So precious. Not a soul was awake to hear, just her. She didn't think, just getting up and going back up that hill. At the top she'd see the sunrise and all its pinks and gold and oranges, and she'd cry more.

The walk up the hill was harder when she was laden and not adrenaline fuelled.

But so worth it.

The orange sun was coming over the horizon.

There are no words that could come close to describing just how much this meant to her

Margaret didn't mind the sight stealing her breath, her words, her restraint. It was all so overwhelmingly beautiful and familiar that she couldn't control the sobs. Dropping her bag, and falling to her knees, no hiss escaped as she scraped her knees.

They were surely bleeding, but there was nothing that could distract her from the sheer awe she felt.

Oh it was just so wonderful to be home. To see the sunrise and know that she was safe.

When the sun was high in the sky she was in deep shit unless Genesis came back. But for now, nothing was wrong, nothing needed fixing, and she didn't need to make friends or talk to anyone.

_

Thoughts on this one?

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