Genesis: the Beginning and the End | Band of Brothers

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ １５ － Ｓｅｖｅｎ】

Chapter 15 - Seven

Dick saw her much earlier in the morning than he expected to. He had always been an early riser, and liked to watch the sun rise when he could.

There she was, her skirt pooling a little around her as she knelt in the middle of the poor excuse of a road, weeping at the sun.

Her tear stained face shone brilliantly, reflecting the first rays of the day.

She was happy.

He'd never seen her, or anyone, so truly happy.

But he needed to talk to her, and it had to be before anyone else was awake.

"Ms. Watkins." He kept his voice quiet, but she still started, so he apologised as he came to stand beside her.

"We need to talk."

Margaret did not respond for a little while, nor did she look at him. Instead she took the time to calm her breathing and halt her tears. But she did not rub them from her eyes, choosing instead to scrub at her cheeks a bit.

"I need a week. Give me a week to go home, to process, to think. Give me time to enjoy being home," as she spoke her voice got quieter and quieter until she trailed off, distracted by the birds that had begun their chorus in the hedge nearby. Then she shook her head, Dick guessed she was deciding to continue. And she did, "after over 7 years away. I will come back. I promise." He noticed her doing that thing with her hands from yesterday. "Then we can talk."

He nodded, and agreed, understanding – or at least trying to understand – what she was feeling.

"The Blue Boar has practically become the officers' mess; we'll talk Monday evening in there."

"Will it be busy?"

She was looking up at him now, and he nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"Probably."

"Good. People cannot hear what we discuss."

They watched the sun rise higher in silence. Then, once the sky was blue, Margaret rose and collected her things, and turned to leave.

She did not bid him goodbye, nor did she wave, but she did say one thing.

"Please don't call me Ms. Watkins, Lieutenant. Margaret will do just fine."

"On one condition," he called after her, and she stopped in her tracks, still not facing him. "I'll call you Margaret if you call me Dick." If she was going to stick around, she'd find it easier with friends at her side. He didn't know if he could trust her yet, but thought that when the week was up, and they met again, they'd know. But his gut feeling – which was usually right – was that she had a good heart and that he would be able to trust her with time.

She finally turned around, squinting, and flashed him a cheeky smile.

"Now now, Lieutenant, I don't think we're quite there yet."

With a chuckle, she left him standing there at the top of the hill, watching her go as the sun rose golden behind him. His back was warm.

And not for the last time he wondered how old she could possibly be. The grin she'd just shot him made her look like a child, but the rest of the time she looked aged and weary. Perhaps it was like with the men, easy to forget how young everyone was. And if she was still young, he wondered how old she had been when the war started in Europe, at what age had she begun training if she hadn't seen home in 7 years?

Dick couldn't imagine it, being away for that long. He, and the rest of the men from Toccoa hadn't seen America in almost a year, many of them having not seen home in two. She had been away for 7. Who was he to deny her a week home?

Then a frightening thought struck him.

If she was 21, that was a third of her life away from home, from family, from everything.

Once that thought had crossed his mind, he wished that it wasn't rude to ask, he wished they were closer, and he found himself caring more and more about the spy - the girl they'd picked up in Normandy.

_

Any guesses for how old she is? They don't have to be serious ones. For all you know she's a wampire and is 420 years old 😁