Doctor Winnie Allen just wanted to contribute to the war effort. She had no idea that when she volunteered her services to train medics in the paratrooper division that she would end up on the other side of the world and risking her life for these m...
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Notes:
A/N: I'll just leave this here...just know that even though we're losing some of our faves soon, I've done my best to make up for it with some friendships I wasn't quite expecting but dearly enjoy and think you will too haha. Enjoy and as always, let me know what you think!
Chapter Text
The Bois Jacques forest seemed like a death trap to Winnie, full of foxholes, full of soldiers, full of the dead or ghosts who were haunting them. She kept a steady hand in Toccoa's fur as they trekked forwards, and Speirs kept an iron grip on her elbow. Truth be told, it was the only thing keeping her moving forward.
"When did they move?" Winnie's voice sounded foreign to her own ears. Strained. Dehydrated. Pained.
All of which were true.
"A day ago."
Silence once again fell between the two of them and Winnie just gave a nod, continuing to move forward. She would have much preferred their time together on D-Day—it seemed much less daunting then that it did now.
At least on D-Day, she hadn't been bleeding and suffering from a miscarriage. At least on D-Day, her friends were still alive. At least on D-Day, she didn't feel like she would die.
"You seem to have a knack for coming back from the dead."
Winnie wasn't sure how to respond to that. Wasn't sure what to say. Because the truth was that she didn't feel like she was back from the dead. She just felt hollowed out and empty. And someone who had an empty cup couldn't give water to other cups. But she supposed that he had a decently good point with that, given the fact that she had survived two horrific instances and been the sole survivor twice.
"I think God just has a good sense of humor, that's all," Winnie replied softly .
"You think God's the one doing this stuff?" Speirs shot her a look. "I didn't peg you as someone to superstitiously put everything in God's hands."
"Well I think we have agency and we're the ones who screw the world up. Not necessarily God. But I do think being the sole survivor of catastrophic events twice is no coincidence and there is some divine hand in that."
Silence.
"I don't know about believing in God or anything," Speirs said, glancing in her direction. "But I do believe in you."
Winnie nearly froze at the words. They hit her square in the chest and nearly left her breathless—and not just from the cold. The fact of the matter was that the only people in the entire world who had ever believed in Winnie like that were her brothers, and she had raised them to be like that. So the fact that Speirs had decided to place that sort of faith and belief in her was not only powerful, but intimately touching.
