" Never lose hope! Tomorrow could be the day you've been waiting for."

- Unknown

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" Hazel!" a voice said and Hazel looked up to see Lizzie there with a wide grin on her face. That positive grin fell from her face once she saw Hazel's features.

" Aw Hazel." whispered Lizzie as Lizzie slowly dropped to all fours next to Hazel and wrapped the woman in a warm side hug. In the hug, Hazel felt so secure and safe and it was what let the quiet cry past her lips. Lizzie held Hazel closer to her, rocking the innocent girl softly back and forth, brushing through her hair, rubbing her shoulder, holding her securely.

The pain that was in Hazel's cries hurt Lizzie.

Lizzie was generally a pretty positive person, and she cracked a few jokes here and there, but hearing her friend, a woman she thought of as her sister, crying, pained Lizzie's youthful heart.

" It's ok, Hazel, it'll all be ok." Lizzie whispered softly, as Hazel let another cry past her lips. Lizzie had never seen Hazel cry before. Hazel just on the outside, didn't seem like the type of person to break down and start crying over the tiniest thing; Lizzie was more apt to do that. Hazel just seemed so innocent and genuine, that it really didn't seem like her to crying in front of someone, it didn't seem like her. Hazel had never broken down in front of someone before and she barely did in front of her mother, even though she trusted her mother with her life.

" Hey there you two are." a voice said and Lizzie was the only one who looked up to meet Catherine's eyes. Catherine's eyes softened. Catherine slowly crouched down in front of Hazel, and reached forward to brush softly against the girl's head.

" I'm sorry," Hazel whispered, as her voice broke, shaking her head, " I'm sorry."

" Hey, hey Hazel look at me, don't ever say sorry to either of us ok?" Catherine said gently, as Lizzie squeezed her tightly. Hazel nodded, as Catherine gently wiped the tear from Hazel's face. Hazel's mind was in shambles, too many thoughts running through her brain, or too many different irrational fears spiraling out of control, something she had always struggled with. Eventually, as the women sat there, in a soft quiet of the night, as the stars finally made their grand appearance.

" You wanna head inside?" Catherine asked Hazel softly, as Hazel's eyes remained distant and filled with what looked like fear. Catherine slowly stood, but Hazel reached out to stop her, her face unchanging in expression. Catherine looked at Hazel's tiny hand on her arm and then glanced at Hazel.

" Hazel-"

" There's something you both deserve to know." Hazel whispered, slowly pulling her hand back from Catherine's arm and tucking it against her body again comfortably. Catherine and Lizzie glanced at each other before looking at Hazel.

" Did it have to do with the letter?" Lizzie asked softly. Hazel nodded slowly against her.

Catherine's heart was in her throat.

She never believed that in joining Virago Company, she'd become as attached as she was to the women she was with now, or becoming so emotionally invested, to the point where she felt like her heart was in her throat. That's where her relationships always failed with virtually anyone; she never could get emotionally invested, but people still followed her. It was a tough situation. Hazel was like a sister to her, and watching Hazel curled practically in fetal position against Lizzie, looking filed with fear, struck something in Catherine.

" I'll sit here all night, Hazel, take your time." Catherine said as she slowly got comfortable again in front of Hazel. Hazel looked up at Catherine, someone she's always admired, who went to college, had everyone loving her, and was equally as intelligent and level-headed as anyone would want to be.

" My dad left my family," Hazel whispered, it was horrid thing to even discuss. A man leaving his wife and child for what? Lizzie felt tears well in her own eyes, as Catherine looked away, her throat turning dry.

" Hazel-"

" Please don't sympathize me," Hazel whispered looking at them, " so many people have said how they're sorry over the past 11 years of my life, and I'm so tired of hearing it. So please, it's just something I've always had to deal with." Catherine glanced at Lizzie. Hazel's eyes welled with tears.

" He couldn't take it, all the financial pressure of the Great Depression. He got drunk most nights, and he started sleeping with other women, going around wasting money on cheep drinks and then coming home to his actual family, to my mother and I. He wanted to escape it." Hazel whispered. A tear streaked down Hazel's face, memories of Christmas Eve 1932 flying through her brain.

" He left on Christmas Eve." Hazel whispered. Catherine's heart shattered and Lizzie's eyes welled with tears further.

Before her father left, Hazel had always loved Christmas, the entire thing. The Christmas music, the snow, the feeling of safety with family and love, being able to feel the warmth in the cold, walking through the streets with hot chocolate that burned your throat as you looked at all the holiday displays. Christmas turned sad after 1932. Her mother could barely afford to keep the house, and some days they even went without meals. And her father had left without a care for them, and now he comes crawling back, wanting to make amends, to talk to her?

" And now he wants to talk to me again and start writing." Hazel whispered, " But I can't."

" You don't ever have to if you don't want to, Hazel, and you remember that." Catherine said looking at the girl, " You control your world and you control who you want in it."

" Would God consider it sin if I don't let him back into my life?" Hazel whispered. Lizzie smiled softly.

" God doesn't want you to suffer, Hazel. Sure, you may go through those rough patches, but he has good intent. If there's a bad thing that was once in your life, he wouldn't bring it back just to hurt you again." Lizzie said softly, " I live by that."

" He only brings the good you need, which stays with you. The bad will be there for a bit and leave, hopefully where you won't see it again." Lizzie said softly. Hazel nodded against her and even smiled softly.

" Thank you," Hazel whispered. Lizzie and Catherine smiled softly.

" Can you sit here and watch the stars with me?" Hazel asked the two women softly.

" Anything you want." Catherine said as she slowly crawled over to sit beside Hazel as the 3 women, sat close together, looking up towards the stars, towards the hope that will guide them through war, away from their past and toward their looming future.

Within the coming weeks, Hazel had worked up the courage to write her mother and tell her that she would not be writing her father any time soon, for her own sake and for the war's sake. Hazel had to remain focused and she couldn't be worrying about her father, whom she had long ago pushed from her life and was hoping wouldn't magically pop back in.

On a Monday in July, Hazel had lumbered back towards where she was to meet Sergeant Coleman after hours of deliberation about sending the letter to her mother. But she had finally sent it, with a pit of snakes in her stomach, making her unable to even force a bit of toast on her measly stomach.

When Hazel arrived, Sergeant Coleman noticed her subdue, mellowed personality. Like him, she always walked in with a hello and a tiny smile. Now, she was detached and had the look of a soldier who had just seen death with the 1,000 yard stare.

" Hey, Hazel." Sergeant Coleman called over his shoulder as he pulled his own weapon out to finish off its polishing.

" Hi." Hazel said as she took a seat on the barrel. Sergeant Coleman glanced her way, rather curiously and then took a seat beside her.

" You ok?"

" Yeah," Hazel answered with a nod, " yeah, I'm fine."

Sergeant Coleman looked at the women.

He met her 7 months ago and had seen her progress simply flourish. She was taking him down to the ground quicker than any person he had trained and her shooting skills were off the charts in accuracy and consistency. But now, Hazel looked utterly anything but the fierce, humble woman who had only a month ago, thrown him on his back, with a knife to his throat on one of the tougher training moments.

" C'mon what's bothering you?" Sergeant Coleman asked her. Hazel glanced his way. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to tell him the truth of her blandness. A little subtle lie wouldn't hurt anyone, and if anything it was best not to make another person worried for her sanity.

" Just making sure I get enough rest, it's been exhausting the past few days of training." Hazel said with a nod, " Kept getting dreams last night."

" Ahh, right, the military dreams." Sergeant Coleman said. Hazel had never felt worse about lying to someone like Sergeant Coleman, but right now it was for the best.

" Yeah, not the best, but I'll be fine." Hazel admitted to him with a nod, having trouble meeting his intense gaze.

" Alright, well, we'll take it easier today, let's try some simple weaponry, a little bit of stance work and we'll be done, that ok?" Sergeant Coleman asked her and she nodded with a small smile.

She always felt confident with her weapon in hand; she knew every inch of the weapon, all its ins-and-outs, how it worked, what made it really click, what made it the weapon it was. And it didn't even have a mouth to speak to her, but she trusted the weapon she held in her grip.

Even though a weapon was associated with death, maybe this could do a little more good than harm.

She hoped.

July faded into a blistering hot August in Wiltshire, and many, many runs up to Birmingham on the weekend with the women and a few of the British soldiers who would show the women around.

But it also meant that Sergeant Jenkins would come back to taunt them.

The 82nd had recently performed Operation Husky, or the Allied Invasion of the tiny island off of Italy called Sicily. The 82nd came back in late August with all sorts of stories from their time there, what the combat jump was like the 6 week invasion period, all of it. Even pushing to the Mediterranean.

The stories were endless and intimidating.

A few of the guys even said they'd seen a guys head cleaned right off his shoulders. Hazel saw that image in her mind the following nights.

Sergeant Jenkins taunts were relentless, in every way they could be, talking about how they'd be the first to die if they were to jump. How they weren't strong enough, how they were not mentally strong enough for the struggles of war.

But who was?

Who in any way was mentally strong enough to face those horrors as a human being? As someone, watching their friends die in front of them, or seeing a bullet take the life from someone's once lively eyes?

How were you supposed to be mentally strong the entire time?

Hazel felt emotions, even when hard to portray for her, were something that showed you were always human, that you were still alive and breathing.

Emotions were pivotal of the human being, whether you expressed them like Lizzie or hid them like Hazel did, or toyed with them like Catherine.

Everyone, man and woman, have emotions.

It's only normal to have emotional reactions to horrifying events such as the ones Sergeant Jenkins described. That's why Hazel stopped giving in emotionally to what he taunted her with. Because he was too irrational; he didn't even sound human. And Hazel didn't like people like that.

" You know, in Sicily, the Italians had the Scotti or the Cannone-Mitragliera 20/77, I saw it even take down a few of those C-47s." Sergeant Jenkins said in Catherine's ear one day as she was cleaning her weapon up.

Sergeant Jenkins always seemed to be popping up around the women now, telling them things about the 82nd's jump. The women, they could honestly care less. If anything, the 101st still hadn't even left to come to England yet, and it wasn't like they were going to take part in the goddamn invasion of Italy right?

" That's great, Sergeant, but at the moment, I have my lessons with Sergeant Sanderson and you probably have somewhere else to be bitching, so if you don't mind, leave me alone." Catherine said, looking up at him with a grim stare.

" Catherine McCown, I always wondered why they decided to let you in."

" You might be surprised, I actually have something called an IQ." Catherine said as she looked back down at her weapon.

" That so?"

" Are you just here to annoy me? Because if so, you can leave. I have better things to do than sit hear and listen to you run your mouth." Catherine said and stood with her weapon. Sergeant Jenkins stopped her, with a hand on her shoulder.

" You won't survive one day in combat." Sergeant Jenkins hissed quietly. Catherine narrowed her eyes.

" I saw men there, who jumped and never showed up again. I saw men, who jumped and got injured and now can never return to combat. I saw men die there. You might just be one of them." Sergeant Jenkins spat.

" The war's not over yet, Sergeant," Catherine said glancing at him up and down, " I may die on that jump, but you may as well, too." Catherine then, reached up and forcefully removed his hand from her shoulder and stepped past him toward where Sergeant Sanderson was.

Sergeant Jenkins watched the confident and clearly unfazed woman head off for training, a sneer in his angry glance her way. He was intimidated by her confidence, her clear ability to outsmart one psychologically, and the ability to make him even more angered when the purpose he came here for was her to be the angrier one. Now he was miserable.

Lizzie had been with Doc Ethridge when Sergeant Jenkins came lumbering in, a regular occurrence, to come and talk with Ethridge, who would usually turn a nose upward and face Lizzie again, ignoring the glare from Jenkins.

And then Jenkins would start in on Lizzie, and Lizzie was tired of it. Sure, Lizzie was a positive woman, and a fairly happy one, at least she tried to be, but once someone started in on her so many times, she was fed up and completely done with it.

" Sergeant Jenkins, it's a wonder you're back." Lizzie called without looking up and towards the man, " I'd say the amount of times you're in here, that you might just have a crush on me."

" Don't flatter yourself, Elliot." Sergeant Jenkins called as he entered the aid station and stood in front of her. Lizzie didn't even look up, she just shook her head with a smirk. She could feel Sergeant Jenkin's intense, angry, gaze dawning down on her.

" You think that oh so angry gaze is gonna intimidate me right? Because it intimidates all those women you sleep with, right?" Lizzie said as she looked up, and went back into the storage room with notes from her clipboard. When Lizzie reappeared with the supplies in hand, Sergeant Jenkins was glaring at her.

" C'mon, there's a reason you're here. You don't scare me. I've seen and heard a lot worse than from a cockroach like you." Lizzie said. Lizzie stared at him.

" Hm, no answer?" she asked him. Lizzie was tactical and smart. Sergeant Jenkins was the man who used intimidation to get what he wanted; Lizzie wasn't fazed by that in any sort.

" What do you want?" Lizzie asked him, " Because if you're here to tell about that Scotti from your jump into Sicily, I don't give 2 shits ok?" Lizzie then held back and shut her eyes for a moment. She was never one to usually curse, but when fired up, the curses flew. She would have to do a lot of praying to God later for her mouth.

" Listen, I know that the jump was important, with the war and all, but I'm not in the 82nd. None of these women are. And you keep wandering over from where ever you slither out of, just to annoy us as we train for what we need to train for. So stay in the 82nd, we are part of the 101st, something you are clearly not a part of. So if you would please, Doc Ethridge will be here any moment, and we have training to go over." Lizzie said, as she looked back down at the clipboard.

" You won't make it one day past war." snapped Sergeant Jenkins. Lizzie looked up at him sharply.

" Have a little positivity for Christ-sake." Lizzie snapped at him. Sergeant Jenkins seemed to pale looking at her.

" There an issue here?" a voice called and Lizzie looked over Sergeant Jenkins' shoulder to see Doc Ethridge.

" No problem here." Lizzie said looking right into Sergeant Jenkins' eyes. Sergeant Jenkins glared at her before stalking away. Doc Ethridge looked at him go and then Lizzie.

" He's always hanging around here," he said as he came over, removing his helmet from his head to stand beside Lizzie.

" I sorta told him off, he's the 82nd. What's he even doing coming over here all the time?" Lizzie pondered shaking her head with a sigh.

" If anything, he's intimidated by you 3 ladies and is verbally trying to back off the intimidation factor, make him feel better about himself," Ethridge commented, " it's clearly not working." Lizzie chuckled as Ethridge smirked. It most definitely wasn't.

The 3 Virago women weren't just women in a nearby English village, unmarried, looking for a husband, sleeping with any man they saw.

They were women, who held rank, who held uniform, who fired weapon's, saved lives, were highly intelligent and were used to the berating by now by that of the few men who would come under fire on them.

They were women of the military, and they would have to be accepted for that, even if people would only accept it on their death bed.

September brought about a certain change and not just that of the weather.

Colonel Burton, a member of some of the forces of the BAF, had informed the 3 women that the rumors were true; the 101st had set sail on the USS Samaria to England; they would be meeting very soon.

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hey y'all. i'm feeling ambitious, so after this chapter i'm going to leave you all with one more, just because that is where the boys will be showing up and i truly love the introductions they all get together :)

i'll update again on wednesday most likely and the story will truly kick up into high gear and i am excited!!

thank you all again for everything!