April 27th, 1945

Road to the Alps, Bavaria, Germany

"Anyone seen Alice?"

Dick walked into the central room of the house the officers had commandeered for the night. Lipton, Ron, Harry, and Nix sat at a round mahogany table, drinking and playing cards. Smoke filled the room from their cigarettes. Thanks to the massive size of the mansion they'd taken over, the six officers had gotten rooms in the same house. This meant longer poker games.

After spending a travel day to herself, Alice had rejoined the other officers for their nightly recreation. The familiarity of the card games seemed to help her, and her presence seemed to help everyone, Alice and the others. None of them figured they'd ever forget the shocking horror of the Kaufering labor camp, but they had tried to move past it. Instead, they let it remind them of why exactly they sat in a commandeered house in the middle of Nazi Germany.

"She mentioned showering," Ron told him.

Nixon, putting down his glass of whiskey, looked at Dick and stiffened. "Something's wrong?" He knew Dick well enough to be concerned.

The whole group stopped at his tone. As Harry paused mid shuffle, the room fell eerily silent. When Dick didn't correct Nixon, they straightened in their chairs. Ron even took the cigarette out of his mouth.

"Back in Toccoa, you remember when she got the letter about her family?"

Lipton, Ron, and Nixon all nodded. Near the end of July, the letter had come from her Maquis cell about her family's disappearance and presumed death. The enlisted had been more involved with her when she'd reacted, though Nixon still remembered the solid punch to the face he'd gotten when he'd pestered her in training. Harry had heard about it through the grapevine, as he hadn't been with the company. Again, Dick paused.

Nixon prodded him. "What?"

Dick sighed. He patted the back of a chair at the empty chair being reserved for Alice. "I just got off the phone with Sink." Another brief pause, and then he continued. "That camp I mentioned the Russians liberated? Ten times bigger than Landsberg?"

When they all nodded, he sighed. "Apparently it was called Auschwitz. It was more of a death camp, apparently, to eradicate the unwanted people living in the Reich. In July of 1942, there was a, an operation in Paris. Apparently the police called it Opération Vent Printanier, but the Allies are calling it the Vel' d'Hiv' Roundup." Dick felt his breath catch for a moment. "Over 13,000 Jews in Paris were rounded up and sent to Auschwitz. Her family among them."

No one spoke. The only sound in the whole room came from their breathing and the gentle, constant tick of the grandfather clock. Dick nodded. "Her parents were killed on arrival. Her sister was in the camp for two years, until this December."

Nixon took out his cigarette. "Jesus Christ."

"You're positive?" Harry asked.

Dick nodded. He shook his head, staring at the floor. Then he looked around. "Alice's name and job is well known to the brass. When they got a hold of some of the Soviet's intel, they found her family in the mix. Wilhelm Klein, Hélène Klein." After a pause, he finished. "Bernadette Klein."

"Jesus," muttered Nixon.

Harry shook his head, downing his own drink. Then he turned to Dick. "She's not gonna take this well, Dick."

The man took a deep breath. He chewed at his lip. But they couldn't keep this sort of information from her. It wasn't right. It wasn't their place. He sighed. "I know. But she deserves to know. She needs to know."

"What do I need to know?"

They all turned to find Alice standing in the door. She leaned against the doorframe. Her hair was wet, and she'd changed into a tank top and paratroopers pants, with her jacket hanging on her arm. She flashed them a small, worn smile. "It's not nice to start poker before I get here." Alice wrung her hair out a bit more. "Scared I'll take all your money?"

None of them spoke. The men all turned to Dick. He stood silently, taking a deep breath. All humor had evaporated from the room in a matter of seconds.

"Right, I know I'm not that funny, but usually I get some sort of reaction," Alice muttered. She stood up taller. Her heart began to beat a little faster. "What do I need to know?"

Dick looked at her. "Alice, sit down."

"I'm all right here, thank you."

"Alice-"

"What do I need to know?" Her smile disappeared. Crossing her arms, she looked at them all and then turned back to Dick.

"We got word from Colonel Sink." Dick paused. He glanced at Nixon. But the man shrugged, at a complete loss, and Dick continued. "He had some news."

"About what?"

"Your family."

Alice stood up, away from against the door frame. Dread filled her body. Not many of them knew about Elsa and the rest of her father's side of the family, but maybe they'd gotten word about what happened to them. The way the other men had all gone completely still, watching her, caused her to pause. "What about them?"

After a few moments of hesitation, Dick started to explain the Vel d'Hiv operation, and how in July of 1942, thousands of Jews in Paris had been rounded up and shipped to Germany. He explained Auschwitz, a work and extermination camp worse than Kaufering. Dick paused, dreading the end of what he had to say. "When Intelligence looked through some of the files, they found your family recorded in Auschwitz's records. Your parents died there in 1942."

She stared at him, unblinking. Alice didn't know what to think. "Bernadette?"

"She died this past December."

The entire room paused. A million thoughts crashed through her brain all at once. Alice didn't know what to do. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. Her chest constricted, her lungs heaving as she held her breath. How? Why?

It had to be some sort of sick joke. Finally she spoke up. "You're wrong. They died in Paris, with Robert."

"Alice-"

"You're wrong."

Dick closed his eyes for a moment. Then he just looked at her. "Sink is trying to get a hold of the hard copies of the records."

Alice felt herself hyperventilating. Lipton, Ron, Harry, and Nixon all watched her as carefully as Dick. She bit her cheek so hard that the taste of blood filled her mouth, an iron tang. The room spun. Turning on her boot heels, she fled to her bedroom on the second floor.

The door slammed shut with a bang behind her. Alice looked around. Her gaze darted to and fro. She didn't know what she was looking for. All she knew was the anger building inside her wanted to escape. Her body burned, trembling. She felt sick, terrified, lost.

Dick had to be wrong.

Her gaze fell on the massive mirror on the far wall. Her reflection stared back. Wet, matted blonde hair, weepy blue eyes. Skin, pale, with flushed red cheeks. Hitler's perfect Aryan. Except not. Her Jewish heritage saw to that.

Alice stepped up to the mirror. Her eyes stared deep into her own reflection. Tears eluded her. Instead, she felt only hatred. A deep, furious, raging hatred for the Nazis.

Dick had to be wrong. 

Except he wasn't.

Alice screamed and pounded the mirror with both her hands. Shards sliced her skin as it burst into pieces, cutting her palms. Pain shot through her like a bolt of lightning. Warm, sticky blood oozed down her calloused hands.

Her breaths came heaving, shallow. The pain burned secondary to her fury. She didn't want to see the perfect Aryan stare back. Fuck the perfect Aryan. She'd been gifted the Nordic complexion. But so had Bernadette. Blonde hair and blue eyes meant nothing if one was a Semite.

Alice slid down against the wooden foot of the bed in a daze. She stared at the door. Blood had pooled up in her hands. It dripped to the floor, staining a bit of her pants. It turned streaks of her arms red, dripping in long lines down her bare skin. But the pain barely registered. Nothing registered. In the dark, she closed her eyes.

Someone knocked on her door. It opened a moment later. Alice glanced up to see Nixon standing against the hallway light. He looked at the shattered mirror and back down.

When she didn't respond, Nixon unscrewed his flask. One drink, and then he moved into the room and flipped on a second light. "Jesus." He looked down at her hands and then leaned back into the hallway. "Hey, someone go find Doc!"

Silence followed. For a couple of minutes, only the sounds of their breathing filled the room, or the occasional swish of alcohol when Nixon took a drink. He watched her, completely at a loss of what to do. When feet pounded down the hall, Nixon turned. Doc Roe and Dick Winters came inside. The medic looked at her carefully. He moved towards her.

She looked up. "Gene." It came out almost like a whine.

"Hey, chérie." He spoke quietly, kneeling down next to her. Swinging his med bag off he took her hands carefully. Gene turned around. "Gimme a few minutes with her. I'll get you two when I'm done."

Dick hesitated. But then he nodded. "C'mon Nix."

As the two officers left the room, Dick practically dragging Nixon behind him, Alice looked from her hands to Gene. He didn't say anything at first. His own warm hands turned hers over, looking at the damage the shards of glass had done.

"Major Winters told me what happened," he said a moment later.

Alice didn't respond. She watched him fish through his first aid kit for tweezers. With careful practice, he angled her right palm towards the light. Gene eased the tweezers into some of the broken skin. He removed a small shard.

Through her tears, Alice broke the silence. "Gene." But she couldn't go beyond his name. Her anger and hatred had finally mixed with a depressive agony.

"It's ok," he whispered. He removed another two shards. They also had been stained red with blood.

But Alice scrunched her face, her eyes squeezing shut. Her words poured out. "No, it isn't. Gene, she was so good. Bernadette was good." Tears streamed down her face. She could taste the saltiness as it passed her lips. "She was good. She wasn't like me. She was just good." She struggled to breathe.

Gene paused. He stared down at her hands. Finished with her right palm, he tore a sulfa packet and cleaned the wounds with it. "Alice." He paused, and then wrapped her hands in bandages. With a sigh, he turned to her. "Alice, look at me, chérie."

"I should've stayed! Gene I should've stayed, protected her. I should've kept her safe!"

"Alice." At his firm tone, she opened her eyes through her tears. Gene's gentle gaze stared back at her. He held her hand and took a deep breath. "What happened to her, to your family, it ain't fair. It was evil. But you couldn't have stopped it. If you'd stayed with them, you'd be dead too."

"Gene she was so good. Her heart was good!" Alice coughed on her sobs. "She was beautiful and good and innocent. I abandoned her!"

Gene returned to work on her left hand. He tweezed out a few shards of glass, spread the sulfa, and wrapped her palm. What to do to help her eluded him. He wanted to take her pain away. "Alice, what can I do?"

Alice tried to catch her breath. After a few moments, sitting with her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face, she finally whispered to him, voice harsh. "Gene they've taken everything. They took everything from me."

"They didn't take us." With a deep breath, Gene looked at her. He didn't know what to say, what to do. "Listen, it's late. Why don't you try to sleep? I've got some sleeping pills to help."

Alice hesitated. But then she nodded. Gene helped her off the floor and took a last look at her hands. Confident in the bandages, he dug around in his pack for the pills. "While you change, I'll go get you some water."

He left the room, easing the door shut. Her feet wouldn't move. After a minute in the middle of the floor, Alice slipped into shorts and left on her tank top. Her combat boots went to sit beside the bed, and she crawled into the sheets. The Nazi family who had vacated the house had been well off. The bed moulded to her touch.

With a quick knock, Gene came back in. Two small pills in hand, he walked to the bed. "Here." He handed over a glass of water. He watched her take them. "Good. Chérie, you'll get through this. I swear. You helped Luz, you helped Malarkey, you helped Captain Nixon. This company is going to help you."

Alice nodded through her tears. Her heart, her entire body, ached as she lay herself down beneath the sheets. She couldn't say anything more.

"You aren't alone." With a last look at her, he flipped off the lights and slipped out of the room.

Gene closed the door gingerly. As it clicked shut, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Memories of his grandmother rushed in. He wished he had her touch, her gift.

He paused next to her door, back against the wall. His eyes closed. The words of one of his favorite prayers spilled from his lips, almost inaudibly. "Remember oh most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence I fly into thee, oh virgins, my mother. To you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy, hear and answer me."

He paused. "Hear and answer me." He let thoughts of his grandmother and her unending faith fill him, and put all thought towards helping Alice. He put all thought towards God, asking for help in guiding and healing his friend. "God, let me take her pain."

All the officers were still in the central room when he went back down the stairs, poker game clearly abandoned. His med bag bounced against his hip. All of them looked up when he stepped into the room.

"How're her hands?" Nixon asked. He stood by the window, next to Dick, leaning against the wall. The flask he always carried hovered over his chest.

Gene sighed. "Not that bad. There were a few pieces 'a glass in her skin. But it'll be fine."

"Doc, does she need to come off the line?"

All of them turned to Dick as he asked the question they all had been wrestling with, and had been since Kaufering. The last person to get pulled off had been Buck Compton and Gene had to admit she hovered dangerously close to acting like Buck before he'd left. When he didn't respond right away, the officers turned back to him.

Doc took another deep breath. "I don't think that'd be good, sir. With Lieutenant Compton, he had somewhere else to go, to look forward to. With Lieutenant Klein, this company is all she has left. I think takin' her away would do much worse than letting her work this out with people she trusts."

"You think she's safe?" Dick added.

Gene paused again. He stared at the table. "I think if she's with this company, she's safer than on 'er own."

Dick nodded. He paused, taking a deep breath, before nodding again. "That's what I needed to know."

"I gave her sleeping pills," Gene said. "Hopefully that'll get her through the night."

"And if it doesn't?"

He frowned. "I'm next door, sir."

"Right." Dick nodded to him. "Thanks Doc."

Gene nodded. Frowning, he turned away and went to leave. His mind worked overtime.

"Eugene," Dick added. When Gene turned back, he continued. "Get some rest, too."

"Sir."

Gene left the house quickly. Clouds had started to overtake the stars. He had taken up residence in a next door apartment complex. With a few deep breaths, he went inside.

In the lounge on the first floor, a dozen members of Easy Company sat around playing cards or drinking. When Gene closed the door behind himself, a few looked up.

"What'd the officers need you for, Doc?" Malarkey asked. He handed George Luz, his dealer, three of his cards.

Gene hesitated. He felt that George at least deserved and needed to know what had happened with Alice. The two had been extremely good friends since Toccoa. Liebgott was another person to tell given the man's own Jewish heritage, but he wasn't confident the man would take the news of the death camp much better than Alice herself. Malarkey, too, would probably need and like to know. With Muck and Penkala and Compton gone, Alice and he had been spending good amounts of time together.

The others had stopped what they were doing and watched Gene carefully. Clearly he'd taken too much time hesitating. "Some glass broke, cut up Alice's hands."

"She all right?" George asked. He took the cigarette from his mouth.

"She'll be ok." He hesitated again. Gene looked at Don and George. "But I do need to talk to you two. Anyone know where Liebgott is?"

Johnny Martin gestured to the right. "Down the hall, second door on the right."

"Right." Gene moved down the hall, George and Don both following him, confused. When he reached the door, he knocked. "Liebgott?"

A moment later, the door opened. "What's up, Doc?"

"I need to talk to you three." He shuffled his feet. "Your room free?"

Lieb paused but nodded. He opened the door up further. "Skinny isn't coming back for a while, and Babe's asleep."

Gene moved into the room, followed by the clearly confused George and Malarkey. They moved to the dining room table. With a deep breath, Gene settled into a chair. The others followed suit.

"What I'm about to say stays between you three. The officers know, and that's it." Gene looked around at them. When they all nodded, he continued. "Alice got some bad news tonight, and she didn't take it well."

"What happened?" Lieb asked quickly.

George leaned closer. "What do you mean, didn't take it well?"

"Slow down." He leaned back in the chair and shook his head. "Back in Toccoa. Those first few weeks, she got the news about her family's death." They all nodded, so he sighed. "Turns out, they weren't dead."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Lieb leaned over the table. "Not dead?"

"Paris' Jewish population was rounded up that July. They were sent to one of the camps like Landsberg, except worse. According to Major Winters, this place was ten times bigger, with execution chambers, ovens for cremation, basically a death camp." Gene looked at the three men. "Her parents and her sister were sent there."

"Jesus Christ," muttered George.

Lieb looked absolutely furious. His fists clenched, knuckles turning white. Gene watched him closely.

"How long were they there," Malarkey asked, voice low.

"Her parents died quick. But Bernadette was there until this past December."

George took his cigarette out. "Holy fuck. Two years? She was there for two years?"

"How's Alice?" Malarkey asked quickly.

Gene sighed. "Not good." He frowned and shook his head, glancing down the hall to the front door of the apartment. "She's real shaken. Major Winters talked about taking 'er off the line."

"What?!" Both Lieb and George objected immediately.

"I told him why it was a bad idea. He shouldn't be sending her out."

"Jesus." George sat back in his chair after a few moments of silence. He looked around the room. "What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

Gene just shook his head ever so slightly. He didn't have an answer. They hadn't trained him for this.

"I'm gonna kill every fuckin' Kraut from here to Berlin," Liebgott seethed. "Fucking bastards-"

"Liebgott! Your anger isn't going to help her," Gene snapped.

"You're not angry? After what those pieces of shit-"

Gene turned in his chair and faced Liebgott head on. The whole table went absolutely silent. "Don't think for one second, Liebgott, that you're the only one angry here. You're a grown up, get a hold a' yourself. What matters isn't makin' the Nazis pay, it's making sure this doesn't end with Alice gettin' hurt more."

Both George and Malarkey watched them carefully. Lieb had the sense to stay quiet. As the medic gave him one final stare, he turned away.

"So, what are we going to do?" Malarkey asked a moment later.

"I don't know there's much we can do," Gene admitted. He shrugged. "Watch her, mostly. She didn't say much. She was in shock. Two years she thought that her sister at least hadn't had to suffer."

George fumbled to light a cigarette. The table had fallen silent again and only the click of his lighter and the ticking of a clock made any noise. He blew out a puff of smoke.

"She said they took everything from 'er." With a sigh, Gene leaned back against the wooden chair. "We need to keep her from breakin' down further cause if she does, there's only so much I can do to keep 'em from taking her off the line."

"And then she will have lost everything," George muttered.

Gene agreed. They returned to silence. It didn't take long for Gene to wrestle out a cigarette for himself, and then excuse himself from the room. He needed sleep.

AUTHOR's NOTE:

I promise this is the lowest this fic is getting in terms of emotional angst. From here its mostly uphill. But this was a very important part of Alice's story that I laid the groundwork for months and months ago.

VE-Day isn't too far. Hang in there.