74: So Much Good

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Easy Company, along with the rest of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, were ordered to clear the woods west of the town of Foy a few days later. They were met with little resistance and returned entirely intact, which was good news for everyone; medical supplies were still low, as were numbers and morale. Not that they ever could, but right now, they really couldn't afford to lose anyone else.

Floyd came to see Charlie when he returned with the rest of the company. He told her and Mabs about what had happened, sharing the good news that no one had been hurt, and, when Mabs left to go and speak to Henry, he slipped into her place beside Charlie and made himself at home.

Charlie watched him as he shifted around to make himself comfortable, not entirely realising she was doing it until he settled and glanced at her. "What?"

Reaching out, she poked his cheek. "I don't like the beard." All of the men had grown facial hair since coming to Bastogne, for warmth as much as functionality, since it wasn't very practical to try to shave out here. But she couldn't help but miss seeing all of Floyd's face. His smile looked different like this.

Floyd rolled his eyes jovially at her words. "Oh, sorry, Freckles. I'll go shave it off right now. Would that make you happy?"

Charlie smiled. "Yes. Very. Thank you."

He shook his head at her and made no move to leave.

Tilting her head back, Charlie stared up into the sky. It was always grey here. She hadn't seen a blue sky since Paris.

Remembering Paris and what had happened there made Charlie's cheeks flame and for the very first time she was glad for how the cold had made them rosy, for it was unlikely that Floyd would notice.

The two of them had never spoken about their almost-kiss in Paris, not even when it had first happened. When he'd almost kissed her, Charlie had leaned away from him and he'd whispered her name and she'd ducked her head right back into his shoulder, acting as if nothing had happened. They hadn't mentioned it since. And would they ever? Charlie was perfectly content in not speaking about it; she really did not want to hear Floyd reject her, in fact the thought of it made her feel ill, and also didn't want to put him in the position where he'd have to let her down gently enough not to ruin their friendship. But did he not wonder why she'd let it go so far? She'd levelled with herself almost immediately that his reason would have been that he'd been caught up in the heat of the moment. Probably he was so used to kissing women when he got so close to them that he'd forgotten himself for a moment - that was, forgotten who he was with. But did he not wonder what Charlie's explanation was? She really hoped he didn't, for if he ever asked she had no idea what she'd tell him.

"It's snowing again," Floyd said, drawing her out of her thoughts.

Charlie sighed and watched the snow fall with him. "I used to think the snow was so pretty," she confessed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Floyd breathed a laugh. "I still do think that."

"I've seen too much snow covered in blood," Charlie explained. "Too many fingers lost to frostbite and too many men frozen to death."

"I forget how much of all this you see, sometimes," Floyd said quietly. "Most of us only ever hear about half the shit that goes on. We find out that Toye and Guarnere lost their legs or that Hoobs accidentally shot himself or that Whytsell had his arm amputated through word of mouth. I forget that you see it all."

"I amputated Whytsell's arm," Charlie admitted.

"No shit," Floyd breathed.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "He was hit by shrapnel, shattered his elbow. It was a full amputation and I was the only one who'd ever assisted in one of those, so I did it with Mabs and Gene as my assistants." She shook her head, heaved a bitter laugh which emerged as more of a wheeze. "It was scary."

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