Half Sick of Shadows » Band of Brothers [2]

32: From the Fire

"Someone will pull you from the fire, someone else wrap you in flames." - Kim Addonizio, The Givens

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"No," Tom says immediately. His voice is serious, his face hardened.

"I want to see it," I say again.

He shakes his head. "No."

"Tom -"

"No, Jules. I said no. I'm not changing my mind."

"You don't get to decide that for me," I insist. I can see him getting more and more frustrated by the second.

He grinds his jaw just slightly. "As your CO that is exactly what I get to do. Now drop it, Jules. I won't tell you again."

I can feel my agitation rising but try to push it down as much as possible. I know that, from his perspective, he's doing what he thinks is best for me, but something inside of me is screaming that I need to see for myself. I need to see where they sent that poor French girl who was in the cell next to mine. I need to see where they were going to send me. "Tom, I need to know. I need to know what -"

"You don't and that's final, Juliette."

"Will you just listen to me?!"

"I don't have time. I have to go back."

I know I should just drop it and stay put. I know I should. But I just need to know. I need to. I can't explain it, I just need to see it for myself.

I follow after him as he walks away. "That was what was going to happen, Tom. That's what was going to happen to me. I think I have as much a right to see it as you do considering I was going to be sent to one of them."

His frustration is visible now, in the pulsing of his jaw muscles and the clenching and subsequent unclenching of his fists. "I'm telling you, Juliette, you don't need to see this. Stay here."

"Would you stop calling me Juliette like I'm a child and you're my mother?"

He whirls around to halt me in place. "Would you stop acting like one?!"

Okay. Ouch.

Thomas sends me one last look, an icy look that leaves no room for further argument, before he turns and heads back in the direction he'd been going before. I'm left standing in the midst of the chaos, staring after him, trying to convince myself that it's better this way. But I can't shake the feeling that I am so in the wrong for having been rescued and then being sheltered from even seeing a KZ, let alone having to go to one. Why should I be protected from ever having to set foot there when so many of the people I was imprisoned alongside weren't? I feel like I want to cry. Again. It was more than I'd even wished for, to be rescued, but I feel like I don't deserve it.

I feel a hand on my back and flinch so violently whoever it is takes a step back. When I turn I find Will, and he looks like he's been slapped. "Sorry," he mumbles. Then he gestures behind him, back in the direction of the house we'd come from. "I think we should go back inside."

I fight the urge to cry and follow after him, begging the stinging in my eyes to subside so I can see and think clearly. Maybe it really would be better that I don't see it. Maybe seeing what happened to the others, and what would have happened to me, would just ruin me. But is there even anything left of me to ruin? I feel as though they've destroyed all of me. I don't know what's left to destroy.

Will leads me into the kitchen and sits me down at the kitchen table. He leaves for a few moments before returning with his radio, and he sets it down before me. "Take it apart and put it back together again," he tells me, trying to offer a smile. "It always makes me feel better."