𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐩𝐞 - j.egan [masters of the air]

∣ 020; h o m e

. *. ⋆

It was May 4th, 1945– two days after being rescued by the Russian soldiers.

Heath and Elosie were separated from Walter, Louis, and Andrew yesterday— the 3rd— after being transported to Sweden via plane.

It was sad for Eloise and Heath to see the three men go.

Sure, they exchanged phone numbers to keep in touch— and many hugs— but it still saddened the two to see them leave.

The five had grown a tight bond, their sibling-like relationship set in stone— it was obvious they would have many meet-ups over the years, and Eloise and Heath had already gotten the invite to Walter's wedding that would be set soon after the war ended.

Now, it was the early morning of the 4th, and Eloise and Heath were still in Sweden where they were flown hours after being rescued. That is when they were allowed to freshen up.

Eloise had the best shower she'd had in years.

You couldn't even get her started on how fresh and minty the toothpaste was.

Her hair was nice and silky again, the strands neat and resting just past her shoulders, shining in the sunlight. Also, given that she and Heath got a proper meal and good water, Eloise looked much more lively— it only took hours for her skin to get the pinkish undertones back, though she still was a bit on the pale side.

There was also a dark purple bruise forming on her cheek from where she had been punched by the German soldier days prior; the event already felt like years ago.

She was given new clothes. They were a carbon copy of what she had when she first arrived at Thorpe Abbots in the summer of 1943. The pants, shirt, and even the jacket were relatively the same.

The only downside to the whole thing was that there were surprisingly no medics who could help her with her leg wound. She had to tend to it herself, using anything she could find to clean the painful gunshots in her thigh.

Currently, they were getting situated on the plane that would bring them back to Thorpe Abbots in England.

It was about 8 a.m. when they left. Heath and Eloise couldn't be more excited to get back to the base to see their friends.

However, they were also anxious.

It had been over a year since they were last there; a lot could happen in a year.

A lot happened in 4 months when almost all of the 35 original crews of the 100th bomb group were gone.

It was possible they wouldn't know anyone there. Every single one of their friends could be dead or still in the camps.

That rightfully scared the fuck out of Eloise.

She wasn't sure what she'd do if John wouldn't be there— if he hadn't made it out alive.

She didn't know what she was supposed to do if all she could do was hold onto the ghost of John.

Eloise looked out the window of the plane from where she was in the waist of the craft with Heath right next to her, swallowing the awful thought down, and forcing the growing lump from her throat. Her hand felt over the pocket of her pants, twitching to grab the photo of her and John— the one they had taken almost two years ago.

She had it with her the entire time in the camps but rarely looked at it. It caused her eyes to water, mental pain taking over at the fact that the photo could be the last time she'd ever truly see his face.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the metal of the B-17.

"It's been a while since we've been in one of these," Eloise stated, turning to Heath. "I don't think I miss it."