Genesis: the Beginning and the End | Band of Brothers

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ４３ － Ｓｃａｒｖｅｓ】

Chapter 43 - Scarves

Before she left for Aldbourne, Margaret was sure to tell her dad all about her experiences. Everything.

Well not everything.

There wasn't enough time in the day for everything.

But she told him about Easy Company, that he didn't have to worry about her because she had friends now. She wasn't alone anymore.

How she missed him.

There was so much she'd missed out on. Him buying her first pint, him teaching her to drive the tractor – just in case. He'd never walk her down the aisle, or dance with her at her wedding – not that she thought she'd live long enough for that. If she ever had a child, he'd never meet them.

The almost permanent sense of a hole in her heart had returned the moment Margaret had, the moment her humanity had.

Genesis didn't have that hole.

Genesis didn't care.

Genesis hardly felt.

Genesis just got what she needed, got the job done.

Genesis was good at her job.

Margaret cared.

But sometimes, when she wasn't alone, the hole wasn't so big, sometimes it was so small she'd miss it all together. It was always there.

The bus journey that Sunday was dreadfully quiet. Not that Margaret minded.

27th of August.

She'd been back in the country for over two months now...probably. Honestly, she wasn't all that sure how long. That was ok.

The barracks were weirdly quiet. Not in a no one was there way, but in a no one was really talking way.

Margaret sat cross legged at the top of her bed, and took up her needles. Then Tab came and sat on her bed. And Lieb, and a bunch of others came and sat around her.

Muck, Malark, Penk, Grant, Martin, Luz, Bull was there too, but he stood, leaning against a beam.

And the chatter seemed to pick up just a little, but it was quiet. It was nice. Calm.

Card games were played around her, general conversations had, until someone asked her a question.

How was she gonna make the jump?

But she needn't have opened her mouth. Malarkey, beloved Don Malarkey was already there. He told them all that he'd already told them this on Friday, but parroted anyway.

"Then you don't deserve these yet," and Muck reached over and started trying to unpin her wings.

"What would Sweet Faye Tanner think if she knew about this?"

"Shuddup! There. I'll give 'em back once you've jumped."

Margaret rolled her eyes and swatted him away, calling him a twat and saying if he was shot down she'd loot his corpse for them. That turned the mood sour. She hadn't meant to. Genesis was coming back and slipping in.

"Wait. Who's Faye Tanner?"

There were so many groans. What had she walked into?

"Sweet, sweet Faye Tanner is Skip Muck's fiancé. We never heard anything but Faye this, Sweet Faye that back in Toccoa."

She grinned at Muck, who wasn't even embarrassed and grinned back. Waggling her eyebrows at him she declared him smitten and he readily agreed. He knew it, she had to give him credit for that.

That scarf was done, and she took it off the needles before shimmying down her bed and passed two people to get to her footlocker.

"Luz move your fat arse off my locker."

Raucous laughter erupted from their end of the barn. And Luz jokingly grumbled while moving away, grinning at her when she glanced his way.

From within her footlocker she drew a pile of scarfs.

Counting them, there were 11.

Then, carefully she put one around the neck of each man around her, and had two left out, before taking up a new ball and casting on.

Nothing was said for a while.

"Why'd we need these? It's August!"

Rolling her eyes, she stopped her stitches and shot a deadpan look at Penkala.

"Yes but it's the 27th. September is three days away. Summer doesn't last forever here. Once it gets cold, it's fucking cold."

Luz opened her footlocker, curious, and swore.

"Jesus, Watkins, you've got like a hundred in here! How'd you even fit that many?"

"I know, it's not enough. I'm hoping I can manage enough before we actually move out again."

No one had even put any thought into her knitting.

But now, now they knew what she was doing, and why, they were all very grateful for her.

Now they'd never admit that.

Especially not to her.

A scarf for each of them. Handmade because Margaret worried. Because Margaret cared. She'd even called them peace offerings. It was clear the woman still felt some guilt about her behaviour in Normandy. She wanted to make amends.

Little did she know, she didn't need to.

They'd all seen and met Margaret, most had seen and met Peggy and realised that she was different when surrounded by war. Which made sense.

_

Well, ain't that sweet?