" She was just another girl, playing hopscotch with the stars."

- Atticus

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Jones eventually got up and began checking on everyone else again as Hazel stared at her hands. She looked towards where Catherine was, sitting against the wall of the basement eyes staring forward blankly, tear streaks on her face, as the flame seemed to dance to a tune of the cold in her eyes.

Then Catherine stood and slowly left the basement.

Hazel turned and watched her leave, but didn't move. Hazel couldn't. Catherine stepped outside and then looked to her right. Webster was sitting above the basement, up against the wall, helmet on, staring forward, as there was a show of the sky beginning to change colors, or at least turning from black to purples and blues.

The sun was rising.

Catherine bit her lip but then slowly walked over towards Webster. Webster looked up towards the woman as she stopped by his side. Catherine felt horrible for the way she had treated Webster, she felt terrible about it all. Webster slowly shifted over a bit on the cold ground. Catherine slowly sat down beside him, and stared forward towards the bombed out buildings and icy patches covered with mud and the slowly changing sky.

" I'm sorry." Catherine whispered, her voice like a ray of light to Webster's ears. Webster glanced toward her. Her eyes were filled with tears as she looked up at him under the brim of her helmet.

" You don't have to apologize for anything." Webster told her, as she sniffled, and let her eyes close, as a tear trailed down her cheek.

" I shouldn't have said that to you though, I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Catherine whispered, as her voice cracked. Catherine cursed herself; she was a mess and had been ever since D-Day and she blamed this war, this stupid war. Webster looked at her.

" I'm just tired of this stupid fucking war." Catherine whispered, as she shook her head.

" I'm tired too." Webster said quietly. Catherine looked towards him. She felt sorry for herself for saying what she did to Webster, he was at the hospital, he didn't go AWOL, who cares? He's fine now and that's all that matters, it's one less life lost.

" Why'd you join up?" Webster asked her. Catherine looked towards him and bit her lip.

" I knew I could fight, at least in the SPARs. That was before they sent out information on joining up with the men. I knew I could though. Especially with the paratroopers." Catherine said softly. Webster smiled.

" They're lucky to have you." Webster said. Catherine smiled slightly, as she brushed away a tear from her cheek.

" I guess I was angry because I've seen what a war can do to a person," Catherine said, " how it just takes and takes and takes until all that's left is a body of bones." Webster met her eye.

" It's dehumanizing," she whispered, " I saw replacement in Bastogne, struggle to even realize it was their own hands in front of their face, attached to their wrists. I've seen them struggle to even eat a meal with their spoon. I've seen them struggle to even show they were hurting. And it sucks, all of it. Because I want to help them, and I've lead them through hell and high water, and can't do anything but sit here and hurt." Catherine nodded to herself and let out a shaky sigh.

" It's like drowning," Webster said and Catherine looked up towards him. She nodded.

" In a bottomless pit, with a slab of rock around your ankle." Webster said, " Fighting to breath, fighting for every part of your being, but getting nowhere. And then eventually breaking and giving up, knowing you can't make it, that you have to give up."

" Yes," Catherine whispered, " exactly like that." Her mind filled with the image Webster had described.

" You wish you were at college instead of here?" Webster asked her.

" No, actually," Catherine said softly, shaking her head, " the people there, they were rude."

" Rude as in...?" Webster said looking at her and Catherine sighed.

" People don't like being proved wrong, Web." Catherine said, " I don't party, even though I can beat anyone in a drinking game, I don't sleep around, I don't waste my life on booze, I want to do something with my life, with my degree, I want to get somewhere with it. Sleeping with a new guy each night, getting shit faced and then attempting to stay awake in class, is not, it's not the college experience I wanted. I wanted to show myself to this world and see what it had to offer and not just because of a status I had with the men and women that attended Cornell."

" So no, I'd rather be here, fighting a war," Catherine said, " not matter how much it sucks." Webster watched her.

" Me too, Lieutenant." Webster said and Catherine looked up at him.

" Call me Catherine, Private." Catherine said with a small smile. Webster felt a small smile poke at the corners of his mouth and nodded.

The Lieutenant and the Private sat side by side as the sun rose, sitting in the silence that war rarely provided even in times like this.

Malarkey and Perco and Lieb had all come down when the morning was fresh to see everyone, but they were met with silent looks. Jackson was dead and he was gone. Hazel met Joe's eyes, but there was nothing to say.

The entire situation barely had a thing to be said about it.

By about mid-morning, Johnny, Jones and Webster moved the German prisoners out, along with an MP, and it remained quiet inside the basement. Catherine had gone with them, her mood slightly lightened even in the situation. Hazel retreated with Babe, Joe, Malarkey and Perconte upstairs to sleep in a bed for the remainder of the early morning. Hazel sat on the edge of Joe's bed, as he sat up, getting ready to light a cigarette. Babe was quiet as Perconte sipped his drink and Malarkey stood near Joe's head quiet, hands in his pockets. Hazel's emotions were conflicted, so overwhelming conflicted as she sat by Joe's feet, eyes unfocused. Then they heard footsteps. Hazel slowly looked up and watched Catherine, Webster and Jones all walk in slowly.

" We hard you got two prisoners. Good work." Malarkey said as he looked towards Jones, who nodded silently. Webster came over and stood beside where Hazel sat, placing his hand up on the rung of the bunk, as he watched Catherine sit down near Babe's feet, her eyes unfocused just like Hazel's.

" Jackson's dead." Webster said.

" Yeah, we heard." Liebgott said quietly.

" Yeah, well, they want another patrol tonight." Perconte said as he walked over to sit down on the bunk under Liebgott. Hazel bit her lip and looked back down at her hands again, and clenched them together before unclenching them.

Hazel met Joe's eyes, before he looked away and lied down against the bunk. Hazel looked over at Webster, who glanced her way. She smiled sadly, before brushing a piece of hair behind her head and sighing looking down again. The entire situation seemed restless at this point anyway.

There was a lot of going from the basement to up with the bunks and trying to get rest or eating. There wasn't much talking, but it was a comfortable bout of silence that brought a sense of peace and calm. Hazel sat by Joe's feet a remainder of the morning, as Malarkey brewed up what coffee he could, and other people sat aimlessly around, their 1,000 yard stares the most prevalent of all. Babe eventually got Catherine resting in a bunk as he sat by her side, sipping his coffee every so often. Catherine had grown closer to both Babe and Malarkey since the 5 men who had been all their closest friends were now gone. They needed each other. Hazel stared up towards the ceiling, listening to the gentle wind blowing into the room and swirling around as if a fan were pushing it.

Hazel then looked towards Malarkey who stood, brewing the coffee, his back turned. But his shoulders were slumped over and his entire demeanor looked broken. Hazel found herself slowly climbing down from the bunk and walking over to Malarkey.

" Hey," Hazel said as she walked up to his side. Malarkey looked over at her, his eyes the saddest she'd seen them.

" Hi," he said and then shoved something in his hand into his front pocket. Skip's rosary. Hazel watched his eyes the sadness breaking her heart. His hands were shaking as he tried to stir the coffee, she could see it in the corner of her eye. So she slowly reached forward and clasped her hands over his.

" Go and get some rest," she whispered softly, " I'll take care of this." Malarkey watched her, pained. Hazel could see the tears that bubbled in his eyes, she could, she truly could.

And Malarkey was one to not let his emotions get the best of him, but as the two stood over coffee, on of Skip's favorite things besides a good cigarette, she saw Malarkey crumble. Hazel immediately let go of the coffee and reached forward to bring Malarkey into her arms.

He was hurting so much, all he needed was someone there for him - a friend.

A friend who wouldn't leave him.

Malarkey's arms wrapped around her as he shoved his face into her neck, squeezing his eyes shut, forcing himself to remain anything but vulnerable but failing, as Hazel heard the cry escape his mouth. It was okay to break, Hazel had told herself.

Emotions were okay to have, she told herself.

Emotions needed to be more welcomed because without them, they wouldn't be human.

It was okay to show emotions, to be vulnerable.

It was okay.

Hazel was willing to bear her friends' pain so that they didn't have to. She had bore her own and knew the toll it took to take it all alone. Now, she took theirs in, like a sponge, they deserved relief from all this horror.

Malarkey deserved more than this horrid world. He had been so bright, so young and joyful, so upbeat, laughs leaving his mouth, and jokes and compliments and pure joy from the ginger. Now, it was anything but.

A war-torn Donald Malarkey.

It hurt to see her friend like this. But she was here for him like the rest of this company, they all were.

Hazel eventually got Malarkey to sleep on a bunk and she tucked him in all around before making sure he shut his eyes for some rest. Skip Muck was more than Malarkey's best friend, he was a brother, he was family. Hazel slowly stepped toward the coffee and began stirring it, watching it swirl in circles.

" Hey," a voice said and Hazel turned to see Catherine there.

" Cath," Haze said and a smile filled her face as Catherine smiled gently, " coffee?" Catherine nodded. Hazel poured coffee into her cup and then the two stood quietly together.

" Don okay?" Catherine asked her as the two women glanced to where he slept peacefully under where Liebgott slept. Hazel watched him and then nodded.

" We all will heal, it'll just take time." Hazel said softly nodding to Catherine who nodded with a small smile.

" I'm glad you're back, Hazel," Catherine told her, " I missed you out there, it was hard." Hazel smiled softly.

" I missed you too," Hazel said, " at the hospital, I struggled, but now I know what struggling alone is like and hope none of you have to struggle alone at least." Catherine watched her.

" I've struggled alone before," Hazel said, " with everything with my father. It's a lot like a landslide, wondering what true love it from a father. I've found more love in this company than that of my father." Catherine gently wrapped her arm around Hazel's shoulder.

" We'll be okay," Catherine said with soft, motherly eyes. Hazel nodded with a sad smile.

" We all will." Hazel said. They had to believe that. Hazel dished out coffee to most of the guy but finally Joe saw that she was staggering on two feet and finally dragged her to a bunk bed for rest.

" I'm fine, Joe." she said as she looked up at him. Joe smirked at her.

" I know you are, but for my sanity, just close your eyes and rest for a bit." he said looking at her,

" I'll make sure the coffee's okay."

" Are you sure?" she said, watching him hopefully. Joe smiled.

" Yes, Parker, now rest," he said. Hazel slowly sat down on the bed and pulled off her boots before curling up on her side. Joe slowly crouched down by the side of the bunk and watched her.

" Can you tell me about San Fransisco again?" Hazel asked him quietly. Joe smiled at her and gently leaned against her bunk, reaching forward to brush a few strands of hair from her face. Hazel quirked a smile.

" What about San Fransisco?" Joe asked her.

" What the stars are like." Hazel whispered softly.

" Well," Joe said, as he ran a hand through her hair brushing it away from her face, " you can drive across the Golden Gate Bridge, near Bonita Cove, where you can look out on the Pacific. You can see every star, Oroin, Sirius, Cassiopeia. All of 'em, and you can't hear any noise, just the crickets and the water, or you know the breeze, brushing through the trees. And it's always the best time of night too, the stars always shine brightest away from the city life." Her eyes were closed, but there was a small smile on her face.

" I thought you said you didn't stargaze, Joe." Hazel said softly.

" I have a mother and multiple sisters, Hazel, stargazing is a favorite." Joe told her. Hazel laughed lightly, a soft breath through her nose. Hazel yawned and snuggled her head into the pillow. Joe gently continued brushing his hand through her hair, the pads of his thumbs brushing over her face every so often. His touch was soft, and it put Hazel to sleep.

Joe was so hot-headed, and angry and overwhelmed and ready to kill, but right now, with Hazel, he was always at his softest with her.

" They'd like you, too." Joe whispered softly, before retracting his hand back and looking gently at her as she slept. She was so innocent. Joe slowly stood and retreated downstairs again and into the basement of OP 2.

In the afternoon, those who had rested, awoke from their naps and retreated downstairs to await further instruction from that of Speirs or Winters or Nixon. So there Hazel was sitting between Babe and Alley, her head on the table as she kicked her feet back and forth as they didn't touch the ground. Catherine was between Skinny and Webster, smoking a cigarette her eyes wavering.

" Who's got a light?" Jones asked as Alley leaned forward to light it. Hazel offered a smile to Webster who looked over before staring forward again.

" Whatcha looking at, Webster?" a voice called, and it got slightly quieter. It was Cobb. He sounded drunk. Hazel's eyes didn't leave Cobb, horrified. Her mind flashed to the image of her father standing there instead.

" Yeah, that's what I thought, college boy." Cobb said, as Hazel bit her lip.

" Are you drunk, trooper?" Jones asked firmly, as he turned and looked towards the man.

" Leave me alone." Cobb said as Hazel looked down at her hands. It wasn't her dad. Cobb was not her dad.

" Answer the question." Jones said.

" Yes, sir, I am drunk, sir." Cobb said, eyes watery, " Dunk. Sick and tried of fucking patrols. Taking orders-"

" Hey, Cobb, shut up." Johnny said as he turned and looked at him, " It's boring, okay?" Cobb only smirked a bit, eyes unfocused.

" Taking his side, Johnny?" Cobb said before looking at him with glazed eyes. Johnny just turned around as Jones continued to stare forward.

" Yeah, I am." Johnny said. Hazel looked at Babe a bit, and he sighed. Cobb just sucked down more of his drink.

" And what about the college girl?" Cobb called, as Catherine looked toward him pulling the cigarette from her lips.

" Enlighten me." muttered Catherine. She could care less of what Cobb had to say about her.

" Why'd you even bother? You made it big at Cornell, why would you even bother risking your life?" Cobb grumbled. Catherine glanced at him. Hazel bit her lip and cuddled her head into her arms again, pleading for it to stop, as she thought of her father over and over. She didn't want to.

" I wanted to fight, Cobb. Now, what are you fighting for?" Catherine gritted out, staring at him. Cobb just sucked down the rest of his drink before turning and walking out. He didn't have an answer for the Lieutenant.

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hello!! second chapter today and my heart hurts, it is sad boi hours in hagunau :(( hopefully episode 9 in the beginning revives it a bit, but who knows, that episode in the end rips out my entire soul. thanks for reading!! <3