Pitschen ma en gamba - Small, but powerful [A Band of Brothers Story]

The Breaking Point

A/N: Writing this chapter made me cry. And I might have been projecting a teeny bit... I hope you still like it.

Unfortunately, moving off the line also had its downsides.

One of them were the nightmares. In the field, they were rare since most of the time, nobody fell into a deep enough sleep to dream. They had been constantly on alert, able to go from asleep to battle-ready within a heartbeat.

But the relative safety of the rear changed that. After the exhaustion was gone, the dreams came. Sometimes, they were pleasant, filled with light and hope and laughter. But often enough, they weren't.

Ella was there for her boys, offering comfort and a friendly ear. Sometimes, she stayed up for hours with them; other times, she shared their bunk with them for the remainder of the night, or she simply returned to her bed, giving them the space they wanted or needed. Waking them up to pull them from the clutches of terror, she had become an expert in dodging flailing limbs and wild punches thrown in a drowsy state.

She wasn't unaffected either. Mostly, her nightmares revolved around all the horrors she'd experienced in combat. Occasionally, some of her old dreams returned to haunt her. No matter what the topic, the small girl always woke up with her heart hammering in her chest and tears drying on her cheeks.

She had always been quiet in that aspect. She didn't cry out or scream or jolt awake with a gasp. She tossed and turned, maybe gave the occasional whimper, but that was it. Still, her friends did the same for her as she did for them and she couldn't be more grateful.

Despite all that, Ella had yet to really deal with all the bottled-up emotions she carried inside her since Bastogne. Only a few days after the parade, the ranking medic could no longer keep that anguish locked away.

***

It was a mail call like any other at first. She was standing with a group of her friends, shooting the breeze before another combat drill. Vest hollered her name, she raised her hand and called: "Here!" He came over and delivered her mail.

"Thanks, Vest", the brunette said before turning her attention to the letters in her hand. The first one was from her Mama, just like she had expected. But why would her mother write two letters without waiting for a response? She studied the second envelope and frowned. The handwriting looked familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Shrugging to herself, she turned it around to look at the sender. Her heart stuttered and skipped a few beats while her stomach turned. A strange numbness overcame her and the envelope nearly slipped from her fingers that had suddenly begun to tremble.

Blinking rapidly and shaking her head, the young girl tucked the letters in her pocket when the instructions for the drill were given. Focusing on the task at hand, she shooed the replacement medics off to join the platoons they had been assigned to for this exercise. Glancing at Gene and Spina, the three experienced medics rolled their eyes, then went take up their own positions.

Time passed quickly, one drill following the next, with only a short break for lunch. Their busy day notwithstanding, most of the guys noticed that something was off about their girl. She looked troubled and the shadows in her eyes were more prominent than they had been in a good while. She didn't speak much, her orders to the replacements were brisk and her smile had dimmed again.

***

Later, at dinner, Ella was notably absent.

"Where's Shorty?", Babe asked, scanning the crowd when he didn't see her sitting in one of her usual places between the men.