" When emotions become speechless, it is expressed only through tears."

- Shanmuga Priya

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Hazel had finally decided - she was in fact the hopeless baby bird she felt she were back in the hospital in France.

A baby bird who couldn't seem to get off its feet, remaining the runt it was, remaining that scared and frail being it had always been.

Because even if leaving Haguneau had left her heart looking for hope, nothing but dread arrived in her being when they slowly pulled closer to Mourmleon.

Hazel sat there stone faced. Every fiber in her body felt frozen, in an almost stagnant stance, as she thought about Bastogne and each and every horror that encompassed Bastogne. Hazel didn't knew if she could ever see that place again, where she had seen friends die, wounded and emotionless. She didn't know if she herself could face Bastogne in the way she thought.

Bad memories ingrained in her brain like clay.

Bad memories of her childhood, her youth, her bringing up in a high school where you were bullied for simply being the quiet girl that no one knew the name of.

This was another bad memory - one that sought out to play as if it were a movie in the cinema, that somber tune playing in the back.

Hazel's eyes briefly met the chained gates that lead to Mourmleon and her heart gave out an ache, thinking of men like Bill and Joe Toye or Buck and Hoobler or Skip and Penkala. It was a heart ache that would never cease to heal. It was an indescribable heart break of men you fought with who were your brothers, your family, who were now gone.

The gates that lead to Mourmelon were like a harsh reminder that many of the people who had entered Bastogne with them, were officially gone.

And it was like a stab in the chest.

Many faces portrayed relief, exhaustion, raw tears of realizing for the first time they would not have to worry about the Germans bombing them every night. There were many conflicting emotions that everyone felt pulling into the camp that once housed many soldiers who had now gone to the heavens above.

Hazel hopped off the truck that had brought them here, and felt powerless as her feet slowly brought her to walk inside the gates. She could vividly remember the call that had sent her out of those very gates, into the freezing cold of Bastogne and the Ardennes forest.

When Hazel's feet had started moving, it felt like a ghost were in her body, directing her towards the entrance to the gates, not her actual being. Hazel walked in alone, as most of the other guys and even Lizzie and Catherine walked in in front of her. Hazel felt the weight of the world on her shoulders.

What would Faye Tanner be told when she heard Skip was killed?

What about Penkala's family?

Where would Buck go?

How would Bill and Joe feel with the injuries they'd gotten?

What emotional set back would it provide?

Hazel followed in behind the rest of the group, dragging her feet, not wanting to face the onslaught of emotions she would feel entering the barrack again without the men who had risked their lives and limbs for Easy Company and America.

The 502nd was there, but this time there was no celebration of their arrival like in 1944; the 502nd saw the raw, pained and emotion filled faces of the 506th as they entered.

Hazel headed towards her barrack, the one she had been in before Bastogne. When she walked in, she looked around sadly. There were a few open beds, with empty trunks at the end and made beds, with empty nightstands.

Hazel stood at the entrance, trying to imagine Bill looking towards her from the foot of his bed as he threw his things down on the bed and cracked a joke. She shut her eyes and tried to picture it, but when she opened her eyes, there was no one by his bed, not even a sense of life at the bed.

Hazel sucked in a breath of air, and slowly walked forward towards her bed. Hazel slowly placed her bag down, followed by her rifle, and then slowly removed the helmet from her head. She stared at the 3 things she had hauled around. Then she slowly turned and sat down on the bed.

It was fairly quiet in the barrack, not many people were talking, but nobody really knew how to react. They were warm, they would be eating actual food soon, they'd sleep in beds with showered hair, and they'd be able to sleep through the night without a shelling at least; no more foxholes.

Hazel looked up and glanced towards Shifty who always had the bed to her left. He was quiet as well, like he couldn't really comprehend everything, but nobody could. His eyes were unfocused, and his hands were curled around one another as he sat there, holding them together through white, laced fingers.

Catherine was staring at the ground from her spot across from Hazel, the ground next to Joe Toye's vacant bed. Lizzie glanced at Hazel with a sad smile, before blowing out her lips and looking at Skip's old bed. Hazel's heart fell a bit. They'd all lost friends out there, friends who had been family.

And it hurt.

" Hey guys, showers." a voice called and it was the reassuring voice of the new Lieutenant Lipton. A few guys began chattering, but Hazel felt she wouldn't start talking until she was showered and told that this was real. The girls had designated showers in the back, there were 10 stalls, but they only needed 3.

When Hazel stepped into the shower and shut the door behind her, she couldn't believe she was showering, taking an actual shower, that wasn't in a hospital that filled her mind with horrid memories or a tent in the middle of France where the water only ran ice cold. She slowly turned the water on and felt it fall on her tiny body. She told herself she wouldn't cry, but then the tears started falling down her face as she stood with hot water running over her body, a comfort she didn't know she'd miss.

Hazel put the palms of her hands to her eyes, as the quiet cries escaped her lips. She truly didn't think she'd be as human as she was by the time they got back to Mourmelon, but she was standing there, alive.

A shelling had nearly taken her life, and the whisper of death had jumped past her ear, but God had decided it wasn't her time to leave yet.

She believed it was God's will that she had to then save Jem - and she did.

She watched dried blood and dirt, and whatever else that had covered her ODs fall from her body as she stood there letting the warm water run down over her. She used shampoo and conditioner and a bar of soap. She could actually smell the scent of the soap she used.

Being out in Bastogne, had deprived her humanity from her, but now as she stood with a simple bar of soap, she felt slightly more like a human again as she scrubbed at her skin.

When Hazel stepped out and began to change into the fresh ODs and boots, she wasn't sure how to feel. She wasn't wet or cold in any area. She was warm, and her boots were warm, and her fingers were warm and her hair was washed and clean. She felt clean; she had forgotten what that felt like. Hazel gently placed the dog tags and her Star of David over her neck and sighed to herself. An ounce of comfort.

When Hazel saw Catherine and Lizzie, fresh and clean, she smiled. Hazel couldn't help but stand in a hug with them in silence, where the silently thanked God for their lives and getting them here. They didn't need to say a word as they moved towards the mess hall.

Hazel stared at the food as it was placed on her plate before moving over to a table. When she sat down she stared at the food in front of her. Her heart felt heavy staring at it. Catherine eventually sat across from her and Lizzie next to her. The two of them began eating, but Hazel felt almost sick looking at the food and she couldn't understand why.

" You gotta eat, Hazel." Lizzie whispered softly. Hazel looked at her with a sad smile and a nod. Hazel was just so sad, and when she got sad like this, she didn't eat. Hazel slowly picked up her fork and scooped it into the food before placing it in her mouth.

The 3 women ate in silence together, in their own minds, comprehending everything and allowing all that had happened to fully sink into their minds as they relished the safety they now had.

Then a few of the boys started sitting down next to them all and eating as well. It might've been quiet as they all ate together, but they knew they weren't alone, they had each other, sitting there side by side, eating their hot meals in their fresh ODs.

When they got back to barracks that night it was quiet, everyone wanting to get some rest, as the soft glow of the lamps around the barracks slowly clicked off or stayed on. Hazel had turned hers off but she stayed awake staring up at the ceiling of the barrack, waiting for sleep.

Nightmares seemed to swirl right behind her eyes if she closed them and that scared her.

About her father, or about Bill or Joe getting hit, or seeing Buck's lifeless eyes, or Skip and Penkala disappearing.

Or Hoobler's yell.

That broke her.

She couldn't help but feel cold, even in the warm barrack, where she could hear the quiet hum of the heater. Hazel watched as Lizzie went around to each of the boys and talked to them quietly, making sure they were ok before moving on. When Lizzie arrived at Hazel's side, Lizzie crouched down and smiled at Hazel.

" Get some rest tonight, alright?" Lizzie said softly. Hazel nodded with a tiny smile. Lizzie smiled at her and gently squeezed her shoulder, before getting up and moving to Liebgott's bed next to Hazel's. Hazel fell asleep that night blissfully.

When Hazel woke up the next morning, there were a few people moving about and sunlight streaming in through the windows. Hazel slowly sat up, her tired eyes barely cracked open as she looked around. Hazel rubbed her eyes before yawning. She had been so comfortable that waking up had been on the back burner. But it seems everyone was the same way.

Nobody had gotten dressed, while others were away in bed, smoking or reading, or talking to the other person in the bed next to them.

Hazel slowly sat up and yawned again. Her tired eyes carried her over to Joe Liebgott, who sat trying to wake himself up. He was blinking his eyes, and he was yawning, but he managed to still look good. What was it? She had seen him at his best and worse she figured. Hazel innocently looked toward him as he ran a hand through his hair, and looked around with tired eyes. For seem reason, watching Joe kept her emotions at bay, unlike anything before.

She felt happy??

Hazel slowly pulled her eyes away and yawned again, rubbing her eyes. She had missed sleeping, sleeping comfortably at least. She had missed it more than she could imagine.

No shellings, no Germans, no nightmares, no battles, no firing of weapons, no patrols. None of it. When Hazel flipped the covers off her legs, she slowly turned to put her legs on the ground. But when she stood, she felt soreness overwhelm her muscles, and her wound give a dull pulse. Hazel gently grasped where the wound was, under her white t-shirt and grimaced.

Hazel slowly grasped the nightstand and stood to her feet, suddenly getting a flashback to when she was almost learning to walk again, to get her feet moving one in front of the other. She shook her head, she had to stop. She had to just tell herself that they were safe, and that was their only security right now.

Their stay at Mourmelon became a relief. They could sleep and eat and shower and talk without German shellings threatening them. It was a major relief, but every so often at night, Hazel's eyes would fly open and she'd think that there was German artillery outside, but it was the sounds in her head. She didn't find herself participating in night time activities with the men and women. She instead went out and looked at the stars instead, to calm her racing mind. She didn't know why she didn't want to play cards with them, or just little games like that, what had happened out in Bastogne had hurt her mentally and emotionally, and she found herself needing to be spend more time alone to just think and comprehend it all.

But she would see their eyes.

Too many different pairs of eyes, whether they were joyous and bright, through a scope, watching the inevitable reality that would soon grasp them, or eyes from her past.

Eyes said more sometimes than what a single word that could drip from the mouth could say.

And it scared her, deep down to her core.

Those eyes would never look into another set of eyes again. Hazel would usually think about them for too long and she tried to work it from her body.

But they had been friends, brothers, she couldn't just act like their deaths or wounds were just another one. They were people she had loved.

February faded into March, and Hazel could begin to see the days warming up with each morning she woke up. Usually she was up early, she hated it, she was having trouble sleeping. She didn't tell anyone, except well the girls and Joe. Usually everyone else was getting ready for bed, but Hazel would lie awake staring at the ceiling hoping that Bastogne was some sort dream she just couldn't comprehend, but it was real.

All that had happened there had been so vividly real and horrific and was clearly lodged into her mind. But Hazel was starting to accept the brutal reality of the fact that those images might haunt her longer than she initially wanted.

Hazel had to get fitted for a new Class A, just like everyone else, but she had lost too much weight while they had been in Bastogne, and it was taking a long time. And plus the women were fitted for skirts as well. When Hazel looked in the mirror, she would see the scared, terrified girl she always saw when she looked into one.

Back in November and December, Hazel had started to see a happier person, a happier version of what she wanted Hazel Parker to be, but since coming back, it's been this pale, sick looking girl, with no life.

That night, she sat beside Joe on his bed, as the men and women chattered together, sharing smokes and playing cards and laughing. But Hazel even on the outside if she was fine, she felt miserable.

It was all starting to hit her, the fact that all the men they had lost whether to death or injury were really gone. Hazel bit her lip as she saw Joe open the letter he had from his mother. Hazel found that just sitting near people, even in silence was comforting enough, because she could feel them still next to her, still there, still alive. Hazel eventually gave up in trying to remain somewhat upbeat and happy, and gently laid her head on Joe's shoulder and let out a small sigh.

" You ok, Tiny?" Joe asked, as he turned over the letter in his hands. She nodded against his shoulder. Joe knew Hazel's little pick-ups by now. She bit her lip when she was worried, she avoided eye contact when something was wrong, or started fiddling with her fingers, she didn't say anything when she was upset, she kept quiet, or when she was annoyed, she narrowed her eyes to the point where it was like there was a spark there. Hazel was quiet.

" What's bothering you?" Joe asked her.

" I don't even know how to describe it." she said softly.

Joe knew what she meant. She hadn't been sleeping well at all since they've arrived, she wasn't eating much either, and she wasn't really the innocent, upbeat, shy girl the company usually saw. She barely talked at meals. Joe was worried, probably over the top worried, and he had talked to both Catherine and Lizzie about it, numerous times, expressing his worry. He'd seen Hazel laugh once or twice with the girls before resuming her mellow state of mind, or not talking. Joe was overwhelmed with worry, and he assumed Hazel knew because well, he'd been pretty vocal about it in Haguneua. Most nights, Joe just let Hazel be, but tonight, his worry had spiked to a new high.

" Hazel you can talk to me." Joe said softly to her, as she shifted on his shoulder a bit.

" I know." Hazel whispered. She wanted to tell Joe so bad, but she was afraid he'd become distant or think she was insane. But that was her trust issues talking, even though she trusted Joe whole-heartedly. It made her feel worse, almost sick to her stomach.

" I'm gonna go look at the stars." Hazel sat as she slowly shifted off the blankets on Joe's bed and pulled her boots on with her PT gear she wore for bed, before reaching and pulling on her OD coat.

" I'll come with you." Joe said as he stood up. Hazel looked at him softly, and nodded. The two walked out before heading towards Hazel's spot, where you could lean back and look up at the stars in silence. But Joe wanted to talk; he needed Hazel to talk or his worry would spill over, and well he usually got angry after that.

" Hazel, please just talk to me, you know everyone's worried about you." Joe told her as he looked at the girl sitting beside him. Hazel sighed, as she ran a hand through her long hair, which had grown greatly since its last cut.

" I know, I just, I, I know." Hazel stammered, her mind overwhelmed suddenly, as if it were on overdrive. Joe watched Hazel shut her eyes and take a deep breath before sighing again.

" I'm scared to tell you." Hazel whispered, looking up at him with sullen eyes.

Joe felt like it were a punch to the gut. He had always been honest with Hazel and vice versa, I mean they knew each other's favorite colors, how they liked their steak cooked, and where their grandmothers came from, but this hurt Joe. Joe didn't want Hazel scared to tell him a thing.

Hazel watched Joe's mind turn and tumble and crash a bit in confusion.

For a second, Hazel saw her father, in the darkness, the night before he left, saying how much he loved her.

But the next time Hazel blinked it was only Joe, looking at her with worried eyes.

Hazel's breathing hitched a bit, as she felt herself slowly grow emotional.

Stupidly emotional.

Ridiculously emotional.

She hated crying and she never cried in front of people. She didn't trust people with emotions. She looked at Joe with evidently tear filled eyes, and a trembling bottom lip.

" Why are you scared to tell me?" Joe asked her, dead serious. Joe knew about Hazel's trust issues, and he knew it took her a while for her to completely trust someone, and he didn't want her worried that she can't tell him something. It's the worse thing for someone, especially someone like Hazel. But it was why he loved her, for so many more reasons as well.

" I'm afraid you'll walk away too." Hazel whimpered out, as a tear trailed down her cheek. She rushed to wipe it away though. Hazel took a breath and looked away from Joe, as tears slowly fell down her freckled cheeks. Joe felt like his heart had been pulled out and thrown a thousand yards.

Walk away too?

Joe Liebgott?

Joe would never walk away from a friend, much less a best friend, even one in need.

" Hazel, look at me." Joe said softly, as he leaned forward a bit, placing a hand on the back of her head. She looked at him with a quivering lip. And Joe watched her eyes, filled with tears, looking so broken, so distraught, so completely and utterly sad.

" You're my best friend," he said, " and I don't walk away from my best friends ever." Hazel watched his eyes, he was telling the truth.

" So if you need to tell me anything, even if it is that you did the worst thing imaginable, I will never walk away, okay?" Joe said to her. Hazel sniffled and nodded as she watched him. Joe watched her blue eyes a moment more. He gave her a small smile, and gently reached forward to wipe the tear that lay on her cheek away. She sniffled. Even crying she looked beautiful, she was still Hazel.

" Come here." he whispered, and opened up his arms. Hazel slowly shuffled into them, wrapping her arms around his chest. She tried holding back her cries, but the feeling built in her throat, and she couldn't hold it in any longer. She let out a pained cry, that hurt Joe's heart.

Joe gently pressed his hand to the back of her head, as he softly whispered gentle words to her. Hazel had never cried like this, at least in front of Joe. But each cry that escaped Hazel's mouth, caused Joe's stomach to hurt more.

The man who put Hazel into position didn't deserve an ounce of her innocent being.

None of it.

" You smell nice." Hazel whispered softly after her cries had quieted down, as her head remained shoved in Joe's shoulder, as silent tears escaped from her blue eyes. She felt a rumble in Joe's chest. He had laughed.

" Can't say I'm the only one." he answered her and she smiled.

" Thank you, Lieb." Hazel said softly, as she sniffled.

" I'm your best friend, Hazel, I know when you're upset." Joe said as the two leaned back, and Joe brushed some hair from her eye behind her ear.

" What did you need to tell me?" Joe asked her. Hazel watched his eyes. He deserved to know how she was feeling because it affected him as well.

" It's just, ever since we've been back, I can't seem to comprehend that some of the guys we started with are just gone." Hazel said softly, as she sniffled again, " It's just hard to understand, I guess."

" I know what you mean, Tiny. Those guys, they started with us, they were Toccoa men, I don't think anybody is expected to truly comprehend it all, you know?" Joe said to her. Hazel nodded.

" It's war," Joe said, and Hazel knew at this point that was all they could say; it was bound to happen.

" War sucks," Hazel whispered. Joe looked over at her.

" More than anything in this world," he whispered softly and Hazel sighed sadly.

Hazel and Joe spent another hour outside that night, looking at the stars that passed by over head before heading back to get some actual sleep.

And Hazel slept.

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hi! sorry this was bit later than i had wanted, but when editing gets out of hand, this is what happens LOL but i'm plugging through and updates may not be daily, but hopefully consistent!! i can't thank you all enough for reading, commenting and voting on this story, it means the world to me, truly!!