Every Spark (2/5)
Title: Every Spark (2/5)
Author: Krista or smilesawakeyou
Fandom: Band of Brothers
Pairing/characters: Future Babe/Doc Roe
Rating: PG-13 for language and some disturbing imagery
Disclaimer: I didn’t invent this show and I don’t propose to own it. Even if I did and you sued, all you would get is a shitty computer and my broken dreams. Anyway, I don’t so please leave me be. Also, this is meant to be based off of the characters of the HBO show, not the actual men themselves. So yeah... don't pitchfork me.
Author's Notes: Hey again, here is the next chapter. I know it may appear that nothing continues to happen, but stuff totally is! Or something. Whatever, I prefer the slow-burn method. So enjoy.
Length: 1120
Summary: Four times Babe Heffron and Eugene Roe almost collide and one time they do.
Chapter 1
Every Spark
(2/5)
They’re in the forest overlooking Foye, the air full of that strange mist that seems to permeate everything after a fire fight. Babe wonders if maybe it’s from all the exploded trees. Or bodies. He doesn’t think about the latter for long. He also doesn’t think about Bill and Joe Toye or being trapped under the tree, hearing everyone scream and being unable to stop himself from shouting for help. It was just a fucking tree. Not like it was really hurting him or anything. He shakes his head.
He’s looking at the town, watching little figures dressed in white dash about when Eugene drops into the hole, silent, his form hunched as he squats. Not looking at Babe, he takes the string out of his jacket and begins wrapping it around his fingers, his voice hushed as the prayer begins. It’s in French this time, all smooth and flowing like water over pebbles. Babe just listens; staring at the man huddled in front of him with his eyes tight shut.
The first time Gene did this in front of him, it was in a moment of desperation - they were jumbled together, the world exploding around them when Gene pulled out the string and began to pray. Neither of them had thought anything of it then, Gene’s words lost in the screaming woods as his lips moved silently against Babe’s arm as he clutched it.
The second time, well, that was different. Gene, shaking, dropped into the hole and shoved his hands into his pockets, yanking out the string and wrapping it around his fingers soaked in Hoobler’s blood. Babe hadn’t said anything but, as he sat watching, he realized that what he was seeing was something private, intimate, and the feeling of intrusion was almost enough to make him leave, look away, something. But Gene’s knee was pressed resolutely to his own and he thought maybe, just maybe, Gene wanted him there. Thoughts about traiteurs and God and carrying away the pain (Spina had told him the story about Roe’s grandmother one day when they were drinking cold coffee, his voice full of wonder and his face almost incredulous as he recounted the good Doctor’s ancestry) made Babe take pause. Maybe he could help. Maybe by listening, he was helping to carry away the pain. God wasn’t the only one who could listen. So he sat silently and watched as the prayer worked its way out of Gene and into the air.
And now he’s listening again, eyes fixed on Gene as he watches his fingers with the same enrapt concentration he has whenever he’s working on someone’s body, elbow-deep in guts. It reminds him of his grandmother and the Rosary she used to carry with her at all times; counting the beads over and over as they slipped through hands covered in paper-thin skin. At the end of it, Gene pauses before dropping his hands in his lap and leaning his head back against the foxhole wall. His eyes drift shut and Babe watches as his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Gene?” he asks, his voice loud in the quiet air.
“Yeah Heffron?” is the quiet reply.
“It true? About Muck and Penkala?”
Gene peeps open an eye, looking at him from under the line of his helmet. Reaching up he pulls it off and runs a hand through his thick dark hair.
“Yeah,” he finally sighs, looking away.
“Jesus.”
They sit in silence, Babe watching the snow drift slowly through the air as a wind howls through broken trees somewhere far away.
“Then there’s Bill and Joe Toye too,” Gene says, his gaze fixed on nothing.
“Yeah,” Babe says, looking away. He shuts his eyes, the image of twitching muscles covered in blood flashing through his mind. “I know. I helped Bill into the truck.”
Gene shakes his head, fishing two cigarettes out of his pocket. He places one between his lips before handing Babe the other, his brow furrowed. “I don’t think nothing can be done for that leg of his.”
“Jesus,” is all Babe can say again, running a hand over his face.
It was strange to see Bill hurt - Joe too, though Babe doesn’t know him as well. But Bill? It was like a fucking out of body experience. Bill’s strong, the strongest fucking person Babe has ever known. So strong it almost doesn’t seem fair to try and still be a man when next to him. But Bill’s more than that, too. He’s a Philly kid, like Babe. He’s practically an older brother. Or maybe more like an older cousin, the kind you can’t believe wants to actually spend time with you, let alone be your friend. Babe suspects lots of the men feel that way but still. Bill’s from his hometown and it just makes the loss sting all the harder.
“I think…” Gene pauses, a frown line forming between his brows, “think it messed Buck up pretty bad. Well, at least worse than before. Wouldn’t stop screaming at me once I got there…” He starts to get that self-contained look he gets when he forgets Babe is there altogether, just talking out whatever’s on his mind. It’s a rarity and Babe once again feels that sense of intrusion but he stays put because, right. Carrying away the pain. Sometimes everything Doc Roe says sounds like a prayer. “Said I didn’t get there fast enough. He saw the whole damn thing, couldn’t do nothing for them. I think… I think it broke something in him. Something I can’t fix. Not that there’s much I can fix anyway…”
Babe startles both of them when he puts his hand on Gene’s knee. “Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “It… it wasn’t a big leap for Buck. Was a long time coming.” He pauses. “Crazy Joe McKlosky.” His laughter sounds hollow as he realizes there’s never going to be anyone who knows what the hell he’s talking about anymore.
Eugene doesn’t ask about it or say anything for a moment - he just stares into the blissfully still forest and frowns. “You know,” he says, turning to give Babe one of his small smiles before his eyes flick back to the line. “You’re a lot more perceptive then you give yourself credit for, Babe.”
He’s not sure why, but the compliment blooms warm and vibrant in his chest. They sit beside each other, silent, watching as the sky turns darker and Babe’s head nods a final time before sleep claims him.
That night he doesn’t dream about torn limbs and throats like he half-expects to - all he dreams about is a warm Philly night, watching the stars as a soft Cajun voice says prayers in French beside him.
Onto chapter 3...
Endnote: Thanks again for reading and sorry for yet another shorty chapter. The next will be small as well but then they kind of, like, explode. So yeah. Look forward to that! Woo.
Author: Krista or smilesawakeyou
Fandom: Band of Brothers
Pairing/characters: Future Babe/Doc Roe
Rating: PG-13 for language and some disturbing imagery
Disclaimer: I didn’t invent this show and I don’t propose to own it. Even if I did and you sued, all you would get is a shitty computer and my broken dreams. Anyway, I don’t so please leave me be. Also, this is meant to be based off of the characters of the HBO show, not the actual men themselves. So yeah... don't pitchfork me.
Author's Notes: Hey again, here is the next chapter. I know it may appear that nothing continues to happen, but stuff totally is! Or something. Whatever, I prefer the slow-burn method. So enjoy.
Length: 1120
Summary: Four times Babe Heffron and Eugene Roe almost collide and one time they do.
Chapter 1
Every Spark
(2/5)
They’re in the forest overlooking Foye, the air full of that strange mist that seems to permeate everything after a fire fight. Babe wonders if maybe it’s from all the exploded trees. Or bodies. He doesn’t think about the latter for long. He also doesn’t think about Bill and Joe Toye or being trapped under the tree, hearing everyone scream and being unable to stop himself from shouting for help. It was just a fucking tree. Not like it was really hurting him or anything. He shakes his head.
He’s looking at the town, watching little figures dressed in white dash about when Eugene drops into the hole, silent, his form hunched as he squats. Not looking at Babe, he takes the string out of his jacket and begins wrapping it around his fingers, his voice hushed as the prayer begins. It’s in French this time, all smooth and flowing like water over pebbles. Babe just listens; staring at the man huddled in front of him with his eyes tight shut.
The first time Gene did this in front of him, it was in a moment of desperation - they were jumbled together, the world exploding around them when Gene pulled out the string and began to pray. Neither of them had thought anything of it then, Gene’s words lost in the screaming woods as his lips moved silently against Babe’s arm as he clutched it.
The second time, well, that was different. Gene, shaking, dropped into the hole and shoved his hands into his pockets, yanking out the string and wrapping it around his fingers soaked in Hoobler’s blood. Babe hadn’t said anything but, as he sat watching, he realized that what he was seeing was something private, intimate, and the feeling of intrusion was almost enough to make him leave, look away, something. But Gene’s knee was pressed resolutely to his own and he thought maybe, just maybe, Gene wanted him there. Thoughts about traiteurs and God and carrying away the pain (Spina had told him the story about Roe’s grandmother one day when they were drinking cold coffee, his voice full of wonder and his face almost incredulous as he recounted the good Doctor’s ancestry) made Babe take pause. Maybe he could help. Maybe by listening, he was helping to carry away the pain. God wasn’t the only one who could listen. So he sat silently and watched as the prayer worked its way out of Gene and into the air.
And now he’s listening again, eyes fixed on Gene as he watches his fingers with the same enrapt concentration he has whenever he’s working on someone’s body, elbow-deep in guts. It reminds him of his grandmother and the Rosary she used to carry with her at all times; counting the beads over and over as they slipped through hands covered in paper-thin skin. At the end of it, Gene pauses before dropping his hands in his lap and leaning his head back against the foxhole wall. His eyes drift shut and Babe watches as his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Gene?” he asks, his voice loud in the quiet air.
“Yeah Heffron?” is the quiet reply.
“It true? About Muck and Penkala?”
Gene peeps open an eye, looking at him from under the line of his helmet. Reaching up he pulls it off and runs a hand through his thick dark hair.
“Yeah,” he finally sighs, looking away.
“Jesus.”
They sit in silence, Babe watching the snow drift slowly through the air as a wind howls through broken trees somewhere far away.
“Then there’s Bill and Joe Toye too,” Gene says, his gaze fixed on nothing.
“Yeah,” Babe says, looking away. He shuts his eyes, the image of twitching muscles covered in blood flashing through his mind. “I know. I helped Bill into the truck.”
Gene shakes his head, fishing two cigarettes out of his pocket. He places one between his lips before handing Babe the other, his brow furrowed. “I don’t think nothing can be done for that leg of his.”
“Jesus,” is all Babe can say again, running a hand over his face.
It was strange to see Bill hurt - Joe too, though Babe doesn’t know him as well. But Bill? It was like a fucking out of body experience. Bill’s strong, the strongest fucking person Babe has ever known. So strong it almost doesn’t seem fair to try and still be a man when next to him. But Bill’s more than that, too. He’s a Philly kid, like Babe. He’s practically an older brother. Or maybe more like an older cousin, the kind you can’t believe wants to actually spend time with you, let alone be your friend. Babe suspects lots of the men feel that way but still. Bill’s from his hometown and it just makes the loss sting all the harder.
“I think…” Gene pauses, a frown line forming between his brows, “think it messed Buck up pretty bad. Well, at least worse than before. Wouldn’t stop screaming at me once I got there…” He starts to get that self-contained look he gets when he forgets Babe is there altogether, just talking out whatever’s on his mind. It’s a rarity and Babe once again feels that sense of intrusion but he stays put because, right. Carrying away the pain. Sometimes everything Doc Roe says sounds like a prayer. “Said I didn’t get there fast enough. He saw the whole damn thing, couldn’t do nothing for them. I think… I think it broke something in him. Something I can’t fix. Not that there’s much I can fix anyway…”
Babe startles both of them when he puts his hand on Gene’s knee. “Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “It… it wasn’t a big leap for Buck. Was a long time coming.” He pauses. “Crazy Joe McKlosky.” His laughter sounds hollow as he realizes there’s never going to be anyone who knows what the hell he’s talking about anymore.
Eugene doesn’t ask about it or say anything for a moment - he just stares into the blissfully still forest and frowns. “You know,” he says, turning to give Babe one of his small smiles before his eyes flick back to the line. “You’re a lot more perceptive then you give yourself credit for, Babe.”
He’s not sure why, but the compliment blooms warm and vibrant in his chest. They sit beside each other, silent, watching as the sky turns darker and Babe’s head nods a final time before sleep claims him.
That night he doesn’t dream about torn limbs and throats like he half-expects to - all he dreams about is a warm Philly night, watching the stars as a soft Cajun voice says prayers in French beside him.
Onto chapter 3...
Endnote: Thanks again for reading and sorry for yet another shorty chapter. The next will be small as well but then they kind of, like, explode. So yeah. Look forward to that! Woo.