𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦

CALIFORNIA DREAMING

ANON: Hey from the prompt list could you do 3 with Joe liebgott or 13 with Winters I think that could be cute☺️

all the men were fascinated by who would lead this patrol. the only commissioned officer in the room was a new one, straight out of west point. lieutenant jones. he was creamy faced and his voice and demeanour screamed privilege. you didn't like him in the slightest. he had no experience, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. he reminded you of training, with his naive nature, and the way you'd all felt about the army before you'd been in combat. all levels of professionalism had dissipated now, you were more than colleagues. that didn't seem to click in mind.

he wore a signet ring on one hand, you caught it shining in the light. you found yourself spinning the ring you wore, the one your joe gave you in england, on your finger. you wondered if the pair of you would make it to california again, or if you would both die on this patrol. you had no idea what sink was thinking, having a patrol. the germans were finished. that's what perconte told you. stretching your arms up above your head until you heard the pop you wanted, you sighed, slowly walking up and down the strip next to the table. "stop pacing." babe chastised you, pulling you down between him and grant. "i'm worried."
"come on. he can't be leading."
"i'm not sure what they've decided."
"no way. not on his first day." chuck shook his head and lit you up a cigarette.
"well, do you see any other officer here?"

   you heard footsteps, but they weren't from captain winters. cobb, skinny, garcia and alley came swanning in. "they call you too?" popeye asked. there was a rumble of a 'yes' from the men.
moe leaned on the table. "so who's in charge of this bullshit?"
lieutenant jones looked over to you all. "if you're the brains behind this, we're fucked." you paused before adding the deliberately omitted: "sir." liebgott chuckled at you and pulled on your sleeve, urging you to sit next to him. you complied, settling yourself on the arm of his chair.
"no he ain't."
"if he ain't, it's you chuck. or y/n or shifty, or moe." babe announced, nudging you.
"it won't be me." you piped up. "i'm not even a staff sergeant."
"you're one of our best tacticians. that would be better than him." liebgott quirked.
"ten-hut!" winters was here. you signed again, standing up and at attention.
"jesus."
"at ease."

the plan seemed simple. four rubber boats, get across the river, get the prisoners, get out. if the house is empty, blow it up. lieutenant jones was just observing, much to everyone's relief. it was johnny martin who was leading the patrol, a capable leader who you respected.
"picked your assault team?"
"mcclung, sisk, cobb, garcia and webster, as translator. the rest of you guys, a base of fire with sergeant y/n and sergeant grant." he threw a whistle at you, and grant. "you speak german, right webster?"
"yeah, a little bit."
"good. that's my team sir." you raised your eyebrows with a little smile at liebgott, in reference to the palpable tension between martin and webster. liebgott smirked back.
"questions?"
"no sir."
"good. good luck."
"thank you sir."
jones called out: "ten-hut!" which was instantly followed by winters calling:
"as you were, carry on."
jones looked embarrassed. "aw." you mumbled to chuck, "poor lamb!"
"a little german." liebgott spat, looking up at webster. "his german is as good as mine."

   webster got joe off the hook. he didn't have to go on the patrol. behind one of the houses in haguenau, you both could have a little privacy. you lit him a cigarette, something you didn't have to do often. joe only smoked when he was worried, or stressed, or had nothing better to do. clinging to you, he begged: "be safe, y/n. promise me—"
"i'm not even going in the damn house."
"but still. don't get hurt." you leaned up and wrapped your arms around his neck. spying around to check there was no one to see, you crashed your lips into his. reciprocating your action, your lips moved against one another gently. you pulled away, "i love you joe."
"i love you too."

you crawled into your bed. martin had softly sent you away. jackson was dead, killed by his own grenade. you were distraught. no one was supposed to get hurt, not now, and yet here you were, crying into your arm. liebgott was in the bunk above you, and he hadn't been on the patrol. more importantly, there was no one you'd rather cuddle with than him. "joe." you poked him. "joe!"
"goddamnit, what?"
"i can't sleep." you could hear your own voice wobble.
"alright, come here doll." clambering into his bed, you felt yourself shaking, not from the cold but from the shock of that evening. "god, your safe." he cupped your face in his hands. "you're safe."
"jackson's dead."
"christ." he pulled you into his chest, one hand stroking the back of your neck, the other caressing your hip. "he was a baby, joe. a fucking baby." you felt joe's breathing next to you, ragged from shock.
"yeah he was." you nuzzled your nose into his neck, feeling the scar from where the bullet clipped it in holland. all you could see were the images of eugene's face, all burned and bloodied, his quivering body as he begged for someone to keep him alive. you sobbed harder, joe clutching you and peppering your hair with soft kisses.

"i was thinking about home before. about california."
"do you miss it?"
"yeah. i miss it a lot joe."
"we'll be back soon." he murmured, kissing your hair again and smoothing it down. "i love you, y/n."
"i love you too." placing your ear onto his chest, you sighed and let joe's heartbeat lull you into sleep. you didn't need to say anything to each other, just to be with one another. things were shitty, but they going to get better. that, you could only pray for.