Half Sick of Shadows » Band of Brothers [2]

Deleted Scene: After Juliette's Capture

a/n:
hi! surprise! i've been suffering from a severe case of writers' block in the last few weeks so i decided to revisit my last work for a bit to get the creative juices flowing again (i hate that phrase i'm so sorry i used it). anyway, this takes place just after jules gets caught by the gestapo so i hope you enjoy getting to be in tom's head for a bit. also please let me know of any other deleted scenes/post war things you might be interested in reading because whilst i'm at it we may as well do a few of them (you can find me on tumblr most often at pxpeyewynn if you'd prefer to anon). anyway, thanks for reading!!! <3

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Tom, Will, and Martin had been walking for days that felt like weeks. They had been glancing cautiously over both shoulders for weeks that felt like months; one glance over the first shoulder to check for any Gestapo guards or Wehrmacht soldiers and another over the second in a desperate, though futile, search for Juliette.

It had been just under a week since her capture and it'd passed both rapidly, a hazy blur of days which blended into each other, and torturously slowly, each day seeming to drag on until a mere twenty-four hours lasted an entire year. Thinking about her still made Tom's eyes fill with tears, but he didn't mind so much because thinking about her meant he was constantly reminding himself that they would come back for her. He would come back for her. He would die trying if he had to.

He couldn't believe he had ever left her behind in the first place.

Perhaps he should have shot her. That's what he'd thought in the moment - that terrible, terrible few seconds where his world seemed to pause and then crash down around him as he saw her getting hauled into the back of an unmarked truck. But now he knew unreservedly that he should have gone with her instead. He should have given himself up as well if only so that she wasn't alone.

She was alone. Jules, who he had vowed to protect to his final breath, was alone and he hadn't saved her. He was drowning in self-loathing, couldn't even bear to crack a smile. It was all his fault.

The trio - should be a quartet, Tom snapped bitterly to himself, should absolutely always be a quartet - came upon Easy Company in some small Dutch town or other. Tom could feel the pressure of a hundred eyes on him as he traipsed through their makeshift camp and led his two remaining team members straight to Winters. He kept his chin firmly tilted skyward and his shoulders back, leading fearlessly from the front because that's what leaders did, though he wanted to do nothing more than collapse to the floor and sob. He had been leading for weeks with the silent knowledge that he was to blame for Juliette's capture and he was sick of it. Let someone else lead. Let someone else carry the burden of holding lives in their hands. Just bloody take it away from me.

But he led from the front anyway. There was nothing else he could do.

He relayed his orders from the SOE to Winters as concisely as he could manage, words emerging distant and reserved, even indifferent, perhaps, to the untrained ear. It didn't even sound like his own voice.

Winters, of course, accepted these new orders and gave Tom a nod, a kind smile, and a firm pat on the shoulder. "I'll organise some ODs and gear for you three. Go get set up somewhere and rest." He offered the younger man another smile. "You look like you need it."

Rest. They certainly did need it. Tom felt like he could rest for years and still be exhausted. He was tired down to his soul, drained and torn apart and traumatised. But every time he began to pity himself his mind traitorously reminded him of where Juliette was at that exact moment and it tore his heart to pieces just enough to remind him to keep his chin up, shoulders back, and lead from the front. They wouldn't get Juliette back without a leader.