Humanity of the Broken [ Band of Brothers ] 2

TWENTY-EIGHT

April 12, 1945

For almost a week nonstop, the officers had found themselves either in briefings until they were red in the face, or with absolutely nothing to do. There seemed to be no in between. The enlisted had started to go a bit stir crazy as well, some messing around enough to result in significant disciplinary action. Trouble was, once the men realized discipline included time not on the line, they'd ignored it. So Sink instituted a monetary discipline policy. Different infractions led to different fines.

As Alice picked at her food, she sat at a table in the house she'd taken over. Harry and Ron had rooms on the top level, and she on the second. Bright sunlight streamed in through the window to her right, bathing the bedroom in warmth and light. She closed her eyes. A vase with some flowers sat in the center of the circular wooden, a random assortment of tulips, daffodils, and something else she couldn't remember the name for. Though she couldn't see them with her closed eyes, she could smell them. Alice smiled, laying her fork down on the table.

Footsteps on the wood floor made her open her eyes again. It surprised her to find Nixon wander in, but the Vat 69 bottle in his right hand felt far too familiar. She smiled at him. "Get bored in your briefing?"

He scoffed, sitting on the edge of her bed. He took a drink from the bottle. "It's the same every day. Nothing ever changes."

With a deep breath, she nodded. Alice turned in her chair to face him. His expression was drawn, worn. On the one hand, it flattered her how much he was willing to let his guard down around her. Very few people got that; Harry, Dick, and herself were perhaps the only ones. More than ever she wanted to hug him, tell him it would be alright.

But Alice didn't trust herself. And if she was to be honest with herself, she wasn't sure Nixon could control himself either, considering he was probably intoxicated beyond what was healthy. And she would not be the one to cross the line.

"Goddamnit," he murmured, running a hand through his hair, face towards the ground as he leaned on his knees. 

Alice squeezed her eyes shut. Her brain screamed at her. But her heart screamed louder, and she couldn't ignore Nixon's obvious distress, especially considering he'd helped her through Bastogne. Alice scooted her chair closer and looked at him. He still wouldn't look up. She took a deep breath and reached for the Vat 69 in his hands.

It took a moment before he let go. But once he had, she wasted no time in placing it on the table behind her. She didn't know what else to do. His face in his hands, she could hear him taking deep breaths. Alice frowned. This Nixon was so far from the man she'd met almost three years previous. It hurt her to look at him.

She hesitated before a smile broke her frown. "Do you... Do you remember when I beat you in a snowball fight? Because that is something I am never going to forget." She could stop her smile from growing as she thought back on the memory. She even laughed a little. "I genuinely felt bad about pelting you in the face at the time."

He snorted. "At the time?"

"Well, now I know you deserved it," she teased.

With a small, sharp laugh, he shook his head in his hands. But then he laughed again. "Jesus, that was so long ago."

"A lifetime ago," she agreed, voice low. 

As silence fell around them again, she sighed. Alice reached out and placed a hand on his knee. "Nix, it's going to get better. It has to." Her voice caught before she managed to continue, fighting back tears. "You may not... you may not believe it, Nix. But you and every man in this outfit living or passed, you're heroes to me. You're fighting for a cause that isn't yours. You're fighting in a nation that isn't yours. You're here for me, for us, for Germany and Austria and Poland and France." She choked on a sob, removing her hand to wipe her tears away. "God, Nix, you can't ever understand what that means."