" Every night her thoughts weighed heavily on her soul but every morning she would get up to fight another day, every night she survived."

- r.h. sin

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When Hazel opened her eyes that morning, she saw bright light streaming in through the window Amelia had opened by her bed. Hazel craned her neck toward it and saw sun rays slowly filtering in through the window, reflecting onto the ground.

It was whimsical.

Hazel slowly flipped off the covers of the bed and grimacing only slightly, sat up with a groan, holding a hand to her aching chest. The wound pulsed, but every morning it did that until she got some medicine in her system.

Hazel had been moved to a field hospital in France; one much bigger, much cleaner and much nicer than the one behind the front lines in Belgium, but she the bed still held memories of nightmares and the fears that pulsed through her brain each and every night. The bed wasn't a cot, and the nightstand wasn't damp or old, it was new it seemed.

Amelia had been moving from field camp to field camp and had traveled with Hazel, making sure she would be alright. Amelia had been there for Hazel in the early days, when the pain had caused hysterical crying fits or the flashbacks became to unbearable to even think on. Hazel took the pill and the water, as if it were normal by now, which it was, and slowly sighed looking towards the silent soldier.

The silent soldier, she had yet to learn a name, had been lying on that bed for ages by now. She never saw him eat or drink, yet he was still alive, curled into a ball, barely moving under the covers. There were times where Hazel had almost convinced herself to stand up, walk over and try to see if he just wanted to have a normal conversation, but she held herself back, thinking of what might possibly be going through his own mind.

What would it be if she just walked up and asked him a question? She didn't want to startle him.

Hazel slowly stood, on shaky legs and slowly walked towards the entrance to the room where an influx of soldiers constantly rotated in and out of. Her and the silent soldier remained the only constants. Some died, some got better and some weren't willing to stay and went AWOL.

Hazel would've went AWOL a long time ago if it weren't for the fact she could barely brush her teeth by herself.

Amelia helped her out; she was a good nurse.

Hazel stepped towards the doorway and pulled back the tiny curtain to see the other side. There was a fine line between Hazel's side and the other side.

Hazel's side was for men who were taken care of, who were nursing their injuries before going back to the line.

The other side was for new members coming in, hanging onto life or death, people bleeding out, the screaming the cries.

Just the other day, Amelia had rushed from Hazel's side and had to perform surgery on a man she couldn't save.

" For us medics and doctors, the war's never the frontline you know?" Amelia had said, " It's back here or it's in your mind, it's never focused on the front line. People think it's selfish, to think that way, but they're not the ones that have to watch the light fade from mens' as they realize the last thing they'll see is a medic yelling at them to keep their eyes open or one of those army issued light bulbs becoming to bright for them to look at. No one thinks of it that way, to think there's also a war here." Hazel watched Amelia sadly, as Amelia changed her bandage. Her wound was still fresh and bleed daily but the pain wasn't like it was on the first day of the initial impact. It was better.

" I don't think it's selfish, Amelia," Hazel said softly with a sad smile, " you're saving mens' lives, lives that wouldn't have been saved if you weren't there. Some people they just don't understand the war like the ones who lived it." Amelia watched Hazel and cracked a tiny smile.

" I've always thought that but finally be told that, it helps, it helps a lot actually, just to be told, that what I'm fighting for isn't selfish, that wanting to save peoples' lives and think that a bigger was is going on here, it's selfish, it helps." That was when Hazel realized the impact of combat medics, and doctors and nurses and surgeons and people who weren't even on the front lines, battling for people's life, fighting against the very thing, they were against.

Death.

They saw so much of it, everyday without fail and yet they showed up with a smile. Hazel remembered seeing Gene and Lizzie, laughing quietly together as they talked at dinner on night back on the 2nd; even after all the death they'd seen, they had each other and knew they could look into each other's eyes and have someone they trusted looking back. It must've been the same way with Amelia.

" You're a good nurse, Amelia," Hazel said quietly, " people just, they take anger out on others and ideas when they can't find a way to heal themselves." Amelia smiled gently. "

People do seem to do that all the time." Amelia said. " Human nature." Hazel said softly and sadly and Amelia nodded.

Hazel saw people being rushed in and out and blood and gore and just a mess on the other side. She slowly shut the curtain, her hand shaking. It was time to shower; she hadn't showered yet, the wound was too much to go around for a shower to even be in the ballpark.

But Amelia had promised today was the day.

Hazel slowly picked up her clothes in her arms and turned and went to walk towards the shower. Her footsteps remained slow as she slowly eased her way on her nimble feet towards the showering rooms. Hazel stepped onto the tiles of the bathroom and glanced around the shower room, with wide eyes. Hazel sucked in a shaky breath and slowly walked across the tile.

It was fairly humid in the shower room, compared to the outside world of blistering snow that swirled endlessly around outside. Hazel slowly stepped inside a stall, shutting the curtain behind herself as she looked around with wide eyes. The shower curtain was a clean, white almost linen material that hung from two rungs. On the bench there were a few towels, soft and warm - they were fresh.

Hazel slowly placed her towels down on the bench and then picked up the towels and brought them into her arms. She gently pressed her nose into the fabric and inhaled the soft, gentle, fresh scent. It suddenly smelled of pine, a clean pine.

Her mind went to Joe and her heart suddenly ached a bit more than it already did. Her eyes watched the towel, a simple towel and tried not to break.

She was stronger than that.

Hazel slowly hung the towel up on the hook and then slowly began undressing from the dity ODs that were some of the most horrific signs of war she had ever seen. Hazel slowly removed her Star of David and then the dog tags, lying them down gently together on a little shelf in the stall. Then she reached up and began unbuttoning her OD coat. She didn't want to look at the wound on her chest, she didn't want to have to see it again.

But Hazel slowly pulled it off and then looked down towards it, as it throbbed a bit and ached. Hazel slowly touched it again, the bandage at least and grimaced at it. Hazel squeezed her eyes shut, as suddenly the memory of hitting the ground as if she were a sack of potatoes thrown in the yard, hit her. Her eyes shot open and her breathing was ragged.

Her heart was suddenly racing, and her wound was throbbing. Hazel slowly shut her eyes and sucked in a shaky breath before letting it out.

Hazel pulled off the rest of her ODs. Hazel turned on the shower and began to feel the warm water heating up as it came flying out of the shower head. Hazel slowly stepped into the shower and felt she could almost cry at the warmth. The bandage, Amelia said, would hold in the shower and she could get it changed against afterwards.

Hazel finally felt warmth, a warmth that reminded her of home. Hazel slowly put her hands in front of her face, watching the water run over them and pool in the crevasses of her palm. The warm water dripped through her fingertips and she watched it with sad eyes.

Is this what warmth was like?

What it finally meant to be and feel really, warm?

Hazel's eyes filled with tears as the water fell over her, pouring down through her messy, tangled hair, pouring down her youthful face that once smiled under the sun rays, but now frowned at the feeling of actual warmth. Hazel bit back her lip as she shut her eyes, feeling the hot tears slowly crawling down her cheeks, mixing with the warm water that filled her ears, rushing like a river.

She felt the impact in her side, the pain that had swarmed her brown like alcohol, rushing through her veins alerting every part of her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, praying it would stop, begging it to. She let out a weak cry, pushing her hands to her eyes, as the boiling tears spilled past and down her cheeks, more and more.

She heard the explosions as if there were rockets going off, one after the other, so much so Hazel couldn't stop them, that she couldn't stop the noises. Her hands moved to her ears, plugging them, wishing it would stop, wishing it would all stop, the noises, the visions, the pain, the tears, the horrid memories that were ingrained into her brain.

Hazel wanted it all to stop.

Small, innocent cries escaped past her lips, as the water just about covered the sound that left her lips with each cry. She thought she had cried all the tears she could, she thought crying was over with, that crying was something she could push away.

But her heart ached for too many things, for too many pains that found it's way into her heart.

Hazel pushed a hand to her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut as she cried. It hurt so much, everywhere and not just physically, it hurt mentally and emotionally.

It all hurt so much.

Why?

Why did it hurt so much to just know she could shower?

She hadn't showered in almost a month, and everything that had happened in that one month, hurt her more than what had happened in the past 2 years. Bill and Joe were gone, Hoobler was gone, Buck was gone, Skip and Penkala were gone and now she was gone. She was here and Easy Company was there.

And she wasn't with them.

And that's what hurt. She couldn't fight with her company. She had to fight herself, her own brain. And sometimes that battle was worse. And it sucked.

Hazel was panicking, she was thinking of the worst of it. She had to have been, it's why she was panicking the way she was. Hazel hadn't lost a leg and she hadn't lost her life. She was still here, on two feet, alive. She was still alive. And that's what she needed to tell herself as she stood there with the warm water running down her hair and onto her face. She was alive and she was human.

Hazel squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think, she tried to think of the happy times, Lizzie would tell her that. To think of all the happy times in her life. The moment where she felt her heart swell, or her eyes shine, or where she laughed until she felt she couldn't stop. When Hazel had gotten her Camp Athene medal pinned onto her uniform. Hazel's eyes filled with tears, good tears, happy tears.

As Major General Ridgeway Ridgway stopped in front of Hazel with Sweeney at his side, holding out the Camp Athene medal, Hazel's heart swelled with pride and she couldn't keep the smile from her features as Ridgway smiled at her.

" Congratulations Corporal Parker." Ridgway said as she shook his hand.

" Thank you, sir." Hazel said and Ridgway smiled proudly at her. Hazel felt even more pride; it had been a fatherly look, something she'd been deprived of. She felt proud standing here right now. She needed that.

Hazel felt herself steady for a moment, steady in the sense of stability. She remembered jumping through the air, on her final jump to earn her jump wings. How it had felt, how she had felt, everything.

On their 5th and final jump, the morning was slightly warmer than it had been in the past, and there was a fulfilling excitement that overwhelmed the entire plane as they slowly gained elevation again.

Hazel couldn't wipe the smile from her lips as she sat there, watching them ascend up into the clouds. There wasn't an ounce of fear or hesitation, as she flew through the air, her parachute spreading like bird wings. She felt she was on top of the world, able to see everything from where she was at the current moment. She could see the trees at the edge of the horizon, lit up by the sun, and she could see lakes and mountains in the distance. She could see tiny towns and people walking around. She could see it all, she felt.

She came crashing to the ground in a large heap, rolling around before stopping just like her past few times, and then inhaling the green grass. She smiled to herself before flipping on her back and standing, yanking each piece of her equipment off, her helmet lopsided on her head, but a smile on her lips.

Hazel remembered getting those jump wings pinned to her chest beside her Camp Athene medal.

She remembered the swell of pride, the smile that had been on her face, the sense of the readiness and the thirst for war. Hazel watched as Ridgway went around with Sweeney holding the velvet case of Jump Wings in his hands, beside Ridgway. Ridgway stepped in front of Hazel and smiled down at her.

She broke from her facade and couldn't help but offer a grateful smile up at him. She watched as he slowly reached into the velvet box of paratrooper Jump Wings and pulled out the most meaningful thing she felt she'd ever get in her life. He attached it to her uniform before stepping back.

" Congratulations, Corporal Parker." Ridgway said to her and she smiled up at him."

Thank you, sir." she said, and saluted him. Ridgway smiled at her before saluting her back. Then he held out his hand to her and she looked up at his eyes. They twinkled like stars, with a wise glint.

Hazel remembered the first time Joe had walked out of the bar to come and see that she was stargazing instead of dancing. He had brought chocolate with him, the good chocolate.

" Could you see stars like this in Camp Toccoa?" she asked him, " We could see them in Camp Athene."

" Not sure, I don't stargaze remember?" Joe said as Hazel looked at him and laughed. She nodded. Joe slowly pulled out something from his pocket; a chocolate bar.

" Figured I'd stow this along, you want a piece?" Joe asked her. Hazel grinned. She loved chocolate. She nodded. So, Joe cracked the bar in 2 and handed her the other half.

Memories, some of the fiercest played through her mind, some of the happiest as well. Her heart ached for those moments, for those moment to come back. She remembered Catherine, teaching her and Lizzie as they sat like school children, about D-Day and what would be happening, what would occur. Hazel's eyes were never so bright watching Catherine talk so passionately as she did.

As Hazel approached the sand table, which was surrounded by a mass of Easy Company men, she noticed Catherine nearby at the larger map, looking up at the 5 beachheads. Hazel smiled softly, stepping past Joe and stepping past the men, struggling a bit to pull herself up onto the stage and clambering in beside Catherine.

" Hey, Mack." Hazel said and Catherine glanced her way with a grin.

" How're you doing? With all this?" Catherine asked her, looking back up at the map of the mission.

" It's a little stressful, I'm not afraid to admit that." Hazel said with a shrug of her shoulders, and an innocent smile, " But I feel we're ready." Catherine smiled. Hazel grinned.

" You look like you want to explain it to someone," Hazel said, sitting down criss-cross applesauce like a child and staring up at the big map with curious eyes, " I'll visit the sand tables later." Catherine smiled at her, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

" You sure?" Catherine asked Hazel.

" You're my friend, of course." Hazel said.

So, Catherine began explaining things, going over little things, and Hazel felt better knowing Catherine, a Lieutenant, and someone who worked in college with this sort of stuff was explaining the mission specifically to her.

Hazel's eyes welled with fresh tears. Catherine. She missed Catherine more than Hazel could imagine. The way Catherine just walked around with a confident smile, a helping hand and an easy-going manner that calmed people down almost immediately. Catherine was like a sister, her and Lizzie were like the sisters Hazel never had. And Hazel loved them so much for it. She remembered when Lizzie had come on D-Day plus 2, and Hazel had never hugged her tighter in her arms, thankful that she was alive and thankful she was here.

" Hazel!" Lizzie called catching sight of the girl. Hazel's heart dropped and as she turned she saw Lizzie pulling her helmet off, with wide eyes.

" Lizzie!" Hazel called, not hesitating to race forward and wrap her arms around Lizzie, pulling her close. Lizzie held Hazel close, the biggest smile on her face. It felt so nice to get a hug from someone Lizzie considered her sister, it felt like family. Hazel slowly pulled back and Lizzie looked around.

" Where's Cath?" Lizzie asked her. Hazel's eyes dropped to the ground as she nervously bit her lip. Hazel bit her lip when she was nervous. Lizzie's mind thought of the worst possible circumstances that were about to leave Hazel's mouth.

" She got injured in the jump." Hazel said softly, " She was evacuated back to England." Lizzie's heart fell.

" What happened?" Lizzie asked softly.

" She shattered her shoulder, supposedly her parachute opened up late and it was a malfunction. She crashed landed on her shoulder." Hazel said softly, crossing her arms, as her hand went to touch the Star of David that sat around her neck, worriedly rubbing it.

" She'll be ok though, Gene brought her in." Hazel confirmed and Lizzie felt relief. Gene. Gene had gotten her to safety. She could always trust Gene.

" Well, how are you?" Lizzie asked, placing her hands on Hazel's shoulders, " You ok? You look stressed."

" No, no I'm fine," Hazel said waving her off the worry list, and an analysis on stress, " I was just hoping to see everyone else we were missing soon. And here you are." Lizzie grinned.

Hazel felt a tiny smile crawl onto her lips as she stood in the water. Lizzie.

Lizzie Elliot who never failed to make someone smile or put on a laugh, that's just how she was. Hazel hoped she never changed, from the gentle touch of her medic hands, to the soft look in her eyes when you needed help; Lizzie was always there for you, without fail.

Hazel's mind filled with memories, of each and every Easy Company man that had filled her heart with the warmth and love she hadn't gotten in years. The memories held such a special place in her heart, one that was deep inside, the wounded barriers, the closed gates, memories she'd never forget. And it was always one special thing about each of the men, something she remembered, something that made them the way they were.

Winters' leadership. Nixons' intelligence. Harry's enthusiam. Buck's compassion. Lips' kindness.

Tab's joy. Bill's bravery. Joe Toye's courage. George's love. Joe Liebgott's respect. Shifty's gentleness. Perconte's sincerity. Gene's caring nature. Chuck's integrity. Babe's innocence. Malarkey's humanity. Skip's hope. Penkala's tranquility. Bull's trust. Johnny's confidence.

Each man represented these qualities to her. And she missed them too much. But remembering each of them, remembering what they stood for, for her. It meant more than anything in the world to remember them that way.

And suddenly, her wound didn't hurt as much as it did, and her heart didn't ache like it had, or the tears that had streamed down her cheeks, were replaced with a youthful color and bright eyes that shined as if they were the sun.

A smile donned Hazel's face as the water trickled down her face. She would be fine, she'd be okay, everyone would be okay. She had to believe that. Hazel slowly shut off the water, after she had scrubbed what she could and washed her hair and stepped out. Her skin was paler than she had thought it to be. She dried off, and then pulled on the fresh ODs that were provided. They were a basic army set that everyone wore.

The Screaming Eagle patches had long ago been removed in Bastogne so members of the company couldn't be easily identified by the enemy.

So, Hazel slowly pulled the ODs on, her wound aching a bit as she bent over, but she felt better and her mind felt clearer and she had a new perspective on this wound that penetrated her skin, her entire being; her mind.

Things like this happened all the time, infiltrating your life, interrupting your day, but you had to keep jumping over those hurtles. You always could.

God would never throw a hurtle too high that you couldn't jump over. Hazel moved slowly back towards her bed, her feet still slow against the ground for her bandages' sake, which had stayed on nicely and stayed in place as well. Her socked feet moved across the ground and she finally saw her bed and sighed. A shower had been what she needed to reach the realizations she had needed to come to. Hazel slowly placed her towel and dirty ODs by her boots by the side of the bed and then turned to seat herself down on the edge of the bed. But when she turned around, someone was looking right at her.

The silent soldier was awake.

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hello! another chapter! and with this we really see the toll the injury takes on hazel and what it does to her mind, with memories and everyone she knows and such but i feel it is important when we see her fighting this mental battle :) thank you for reading!!