Hello again! You guys are such lucky people, 2 chapters in one day, even if this one is short, and I didn't especially like it. Felt rushed to me. Anyway, this is the farewell chapter for The Silence:'( By the way, if any of you are wondering why it's called that, it's because in Sandy/Saunders's mind there was a void of any knowledge of who and what he was. An absence of memories. Do you ever lay awake at night and imagine voices, things you've said, and things other people said to you? They elicit emotions. While amnesia doesn't rob you of your emotions (quite the opposite, in fact, I imagine you'd be quite confused and scared among many other things) it would be hard to feel anything towards anyone who showed up from your past, and impossible to feel anything about something you don't remember hearing. The absence of feeling, that numbness, that silence…. Well, anyway, that was for just-in-case-you-were-wondering purposes!

I'm going to be starting a "what if" fic for The Long Way Home pt. 1, probably Billy-centric, chock-full of whump for everyone, so keep your eyes peeled. Of course, the other guys will be there too. Okay enough with my blathering. Gosh, this note is going to end up longer than the chapter. Sorry, I'm distracted. I was just overdosing on new movie trailers…so…. bad YouTube, that's right, blame it all on YouTube. Bad, bad, bad, bad YouTube!

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own them. Nada. Non. Nein. Nyet. No. As in, N-O.

On to the story! By the way, credit goes to Sgt. Saunders143 for editing the pic used for the cover of this fic. Awesome job, Sarge. Thanks so much for letting me use it!

"W-what?" Saunders staggered, feeling Caje's grip loosen. The French man stumbled dizzily and landed half-sitting, half-laying on the snow. Sandy's anger began to mount, "Who are you?"

Suddenly Auguste seemed aware of the fact that there were American soldiers running into the camp. They had succeeding in wiping out the German hold on the place. She gave a wistful look that said, 'well, not everything works out.' Instead of saying that, she spoke her last words with confidence as American rifles pointed at her from all directions, a direct and honest answer to Saunders's question. "I am German."

The pistol went off, and she collapsed to the ground, leaving Rossley standing there, the blood of two dead Germans dripping from him, staining the white snow scarlet.

"Sarge!" an oddly familiar voice reached his ears, and Saunders opened his eyes slowly. A man with short brown hair and a small, sturdy build stood next to a tall, honest-faced man, a shorter man who looked more like a kid, and next to him was a man wearing a medic's cross on his arm, with the clearest blue eyes you ever saw.

"Hiya." The Sergeant sat up. Having been given several days of R&R after being released from the field hospital, he had just been sleeping on his cot. He coughed quietly and looked up, "Kirby." The little man nodded. "Littlejohn, Billy…Doc." He glanced around, "Where are Caje and Rossley?"

Doc stepped forward, "Caje is resting at the hospital, they're going to release him tomorrow if he's doin' okay. Rossley said to say goodbye to you."

"Goodbye?"

"Yeah… he was pretty shaken up after that incident. He's been reassigned to a new unit. They're leaving in-" he glanced at his watch, "-three minutes. He told me not to tell you, but, well-" Doc gave a helpless looking smile. "Seeing you'd regained your memory after you were brought in, I think it mighta made him kinda sore. I think he misses the you… that he knew."

Saunders nodded, understanding seeping into his features. He stood up, "Well, I hope you don't mind, I'm gonna go say goodbye to him before he shoves off," he gave Kirby a playful punch on the arm on the way past.

"Hey, Sarge," the Irishman grinned after him as he walked away, "meet any nurses over at that British hospital?"

"Oh, shut up Kirby."

"Rossley, hey Rossley!"

The medic glanced over his shoulder. He seemed surprised to see Saunders there.

"San- um, Saunders, what are you doing here?" his voice was soft.

"I came to say goodbye. I heard you're shipping off."

"Yes. I'm going to Italy. What about you?"

"I'll be here for the time being. It changes, one day to the next, you know?"

"Oh."

Saunders glanced at the sky. The clouds were still heavy, but now it seemed a beautiful thing.

"Well, see ya." Even though he knew it wasn't true, and probably never would be. The British man smiled.

"I'll see you..." He shook Saunders's hand and climbed onto the transport "…. Sandy."

The vehicle was almost out of sight when Saunders turned around. "Maybe someday."

He began to walk back, listening the crunch of frozen mud beneath his boots all the way.

"Just maybe."

Fin

And there you have it! I have had soooo much fun writing this, even if it was rather short. It actually surpasses the word count for The Color of War, even though that one had more chapters. Anyway, tell me what you think! I was going to kill off Rossley, but decided that was way too cruel, so instead I had Auguste commit suicide- plot twist!

Thanks so much for all the support I've received on this fic, I've enjoyed every word, and I hope you have too. Till next time,

Equine