"Golden Gate Park"

Author: carmen_085

Disclaimer: I don't own any Band of Brothers characters. All original characters in this belong to me

Summary: He stared down at the dark, swirling water under the bridge. He couldn't sleep, barely ate, and didn't dare close his eyes. They were always there; the men who lived, the men who died, and her. In the beginning she was nothing but before he knew she had become everything. Liebgott x OC

Author's Note: Never wrote for Band of Brothers, didn't even know people wrote for this until a few weeks ago. Enjoy! And let me know what you think

Chapter One

Leaning his elbows against the railing, the man took a long drag on his cigarette as he stared out at the bay. It was another impossibly foggy day in San Francisco. At times it felt like the gray dullness of the city was never ending. Cold drizzle hit his face as he gazed out into the white haze. His eyes looked at nothing in particular but behind their dark irises he saw everything. Every fucking thing; over and over. Looking down at his hands on the orange railing his vision flashed white as he saw Tipper staggering out of that building, blown to bits. It should have been him…

'You wait here Lieb…' Both mean leaned against the building, the fucking ground exploding with Kraut artillery fire. 'I' m going to clear this building, make sure none of them run out behind me…' He didn't think about it, it was another decision in a shit load of potentially bad decisions they made every second of every day. No time to think about it; just do it. He leaned against the brick, his rifle up and pointed at the door. Someone behind him yelled his name and when he turned around he saw a white light coming toward him. From behind, a pair of hands yanked him back and before his brain could even remember how to form a single word it was over. Getting up to his feet he scrambled toward the store. Maybe he got out the back, maybe he was upstairs, maybe….

'Lieb?' Out of the dust and haze Tipper staggered toward him. Lowering his rifle to the ground his arms immediately went out to his injured friend. He couldn't look at him but he also couldn't look away. And worse than that, there was nothing he could do. Not a fucking thing. Tipper didn't die that day, but he lost his eye, half his foot, and spent the rest of war laying in a military hospital.

Blinking he dropped the cigarette, watching as it tumbled end over end into the dark, icy water below. Behind him a car honked its horn as traffic rumbled past headed toward Marin and north to wine country. When he was 'over there' he didn't think much about home, well not when he could help it. But when he got back, it suddenly occurred to him that life had gone…had always been going on. Even when he was fighting the war, when his brothers were dying and their blood spilled all over goddamned Europe. Life was still happening here, people were going to plays, having Sunday dinner, and drinking expensive wine in Napa Valley. They didn't know the price being paid for those freedoms and they never would. And it really fucking pissed him off. Lighting another cigarette he took an angry drag as the hot smoke burned his lungs. Looking at the fine white haze his eyes slipped closed for just a second.

Snow fell all around as he leaned his head against the cold, frozen earth. He was going to freeze to death out here, he could feel it. His helmet knocked against his skull as he shivered uncontrollably. They had been out here for three weeks…three goddamn weeks in his frozen hell. He hadn't felts his feet in almost a week, his fingers in the last two days, and his lips since last night. Frozen dirt slid down the side of his shitty Army peacoat as another body came to rest next to him. His eyes were closed trying to concentrate on anything besides the cold. He didn't need to open them to know who was next to him. Despite being almost frozen solid, a familiar warmth bloomed in his chest as she snaked her arm around his cuddling close. Her cold nose rested against his cheek as her chin balanced on his trembling shoulder. Leaning his face into her he let out a strangled sigh of relief.

'It's a warm, sunny day. Not a chance of rain. A tug boat comes under the bridge and blows his horn to the guys at Crissy Field. You smell the salt in the air and nothing can be wrong.' He let out a soft laugh, this had become a favorite game of theirs. Wonderful and soul crushing at the same time. She had been nothing to him at first, less than nothing if he let himself be truthful. But she had been there through it all; her eyes had seen all the same things his had. They understood each other beyond understanding. Someone so special, so important to him had been right there his whole life. They had both grown up in San Francisco although it took a bunch of Japs and traipsing halfway around the world to really find each other.

"INCOMING…" Without thinking he pushed her down deep in the foxhole laying over top of her as the ground quaked under Kraut artillery. Trees exploded as he felt branches rain down on top of them. It was so loud….they could hear nothing except the whirring sound of explosives in the air. Squeezing her tighter he pressed his face against hers as their rough and ragged breathing filled the space between them with hot air.

When the shelling stopped they laid there for a moment; chests heaving against each other. His ears were still ringing as he heard the first strangled cry for a medic. It was just one but then it quickly multiplied until the entire forest echoed the same plea for help. Before he could think, she rolled out from under him and was gone. Clawing his fingers into the cold dirt he crawled out of the foxhole, a keen sense of dread deep inside him. The sudden surge of adrenaline made his legs move faster than he thought possible as he neared a few men gathered around staring at the ground. Through the legs of the men he could see the snow stained red as her trembling hands hovered over something she dared not touch. A few feet away he saw Malarkey on his hands and knees; his forehead pressed into the rough bark of a tree as he heaved uncontrollably. His pale fingers fisting handfuls of snow in desperation to hold onto something…anything.

"Fuck…" In front of him Luz abruptly turned on his heel, pushing past him as he walked no place in particular. There was no place to go. Looking back, he felt all the air whoosh out of his lungs. Wincing, he reflexively averted his gaze away. There on the ground were Muck and Penkala; blown into so many parts it was hard to figure out who was who. Their young, perfect faces stared up at the snowy sky twisted in permanent agony.

He could hear her breathing over everyone else, ragged and on the verge of hysteria. Pushing up to her feet she stared at her bloody hands before turning without a word. His eyes remained downcast as he heard her footsteps get faster and faster until they disappeared into the woods. The agonizing scream that followed caused him to jerk as he pinched his eyes shut. He didn't hope or pray or wish because they were far beyond that. He just stood there, clutching the strap of his rifle and staring at the blackness behind his eyelids.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke he opened his eyes. His knuckles were white as he squeezed the railing so hard it hurt. Leaning forward he rested his head against the cool metal, the cigarette nearly burnt down to nothing as it fell from his quivering lips into the churning water below. After Muck and Penkala were blown to shit in that foxhole, after Compton lost his mind, after Toye and Guarnere had two good legs between them, and after he stood by helpless as she rubbed her bloodied hands raw with snow and ice….After all that he thought he saw everything; that the war couldn't throw anything else at him. He thought, foolishly, that the worst was behind him. And then he realized he knew nothing, had been through nothing, and that the worst was yet to come.

Staring down at his boots he felt a familiar sense of dread build in the pit of is stomach. Perco was a Toccoa man, had seen and done it all, nothing rattled him. But when he came running back into town the only word to describe him was rattled. They were going to check out something in the woods; it seemed simple enough. But as the truck got closer he began to smell something so strange it was hard to place. It smelled sweet and sickening at the same time; like fruit that had been left to rot in the hot summer sun. She was next to him, like always. The warmth of her presence had grounded him through even the darkest of days. Edging himself fractionally toward her side he felt contact before she leaned into him. The ghost of a smile playing across her lips. It was so subtle no one had a clue but for them the simple assurance, the slight physical contact was enough to keep both their broken hearts beating for another day.

The truck stopped at a camp surrounded by barbed wire. Jumping off the tailgate, his eyes trailed toward the entrance where a few silent, pale faces clutched onto the fence; their fingers bleeding without thought. They stared straight ahead, eyes black and devoid of life, jaws slack and teeth yellow. Their cheeks were hollow and gray, they were filthy and smelled of disease. Pulling a handkerchief over his nose he took up the position of rear guard. As Easy forged its way into Germany, they had begun to hear rumors of the things so terrible no one wanted to believe it was true. The Nazis were rounding people up and exterminating them in ovens…the Nazis were doing experiments on human beings….men, women and children were being lined up and shot. They all talked about it but it seemed too horrific to be true.

"Liebgott….Liebgott…" He felt his heart sink. It was Lipton, he looked shaken. The trepidation in his chest began to build until he felt like he was going to be strangled. "Major Winters needs you up front." Of course he did, when it was time to translate they always came looking for him. Passing Webster he shot a hard look at the man; he only spoke the language when it suited him. Not him though, oh no, everyone knew his German was nearly perfect and more often than not he found himself the link between some babbling Kraut and an irate Officer.

There were dead bodies rotting all over the place; bugs crawling out of their eyes and ears. The people that were still alive could barely stand upright as some of them crawled on their hands and knees. He didn't look at them; he couldn't….staring at Major Winters he waited. The Officer gestured toward a man standing with them in striped clothing; he seemed healthier than some others as his eyes could still focus despite the abject hopelessness behind them. The man stared at him as he translated Winter's questions.

No they were not criminals….Yes they were all sick, Typhoid most likely….It was a labor camp….For the 'Slight'?….Enemies of the Nazi Party?….No, they were normal people he said….Musicians, artists, chefs….Judin.

He knew the translation but he couldn't make his mouth say the word. Jews….they were fucking Jews. Those "people" that the Nazis were rounding up, experimenting on, sending to ovens, and executing in the streets were Jews. The sickening sweet smell of rotting fruit were Jews decomposing in the spring sun. Would he have smelled like that ? Did he smell like that now and just not realize ? His eyes wandered over to a young kid…a teenager maybe.. clutching onto an older man that had been dead for days. Taking a deep breathing his head began to spin. The prisoner he had been talking to had wandered away yelling and pointed at one of the rail cars. Turning on his heel he vaguely heard Winters yelling after him but he didn't care. Moving faster and faster he burst through the crowd at the gate before he began to heave behind the truck.

Inhaling deeply he lifted his head off the railing. He smelled salty sea air and exhaust but in his mind he would never stop smelling THAT smell. The camp was called Kaufering, he later learned it was a subdivision of a larger camp named Dachau. If he thought what he knew at Kaufering was unbearable it only got worse as they learned more. Not hundreds or thousands but millions of Jews had been systematically rounded up and exterminated at the hands of the Nazis as far as back as the 1930s. And no one had a fucking clue. Entire families were wiped out like they had never existed at all, their homes ransacked, their lives erased like in the blink of an eye. And the more he learned the angrier he became until one day that anger nearly cost him everything.

It took him weeks to find the Kommadant but when he did he only had one thing on his mind. Killing that Nazi fuck as slow as humanly possible. When Easy company finally moved into Austria he found a man in town that told him the Kommadant was hiding in a cabin out in the woods. He had seen a picture of the fat fuck while Nixon went through the 'offices' at Kaufering and took the opportunity to burn his portly face, double chin, and twisted smirk into the back of his mind. Every night he saw that face before he went to bed and every morning he felt the urge kill him more and more. Was it right ? Hell no. Was it smart? Not even close. But nothing he had done since jumping into Normandy was right or smart so why the fuck would this be any different.

Webster protested causing a holy ruckus when he found out where they were going. Sisk was silent although he could tell his brother had some serious reservations about the vendetta he was hell bent on carrying out. The only person who was ready without question was her. She had been by his side for this entire war and she wasn't going to stop now. Swallowing hard he nearly got choked up as her pretty face stared back at him with unwavering determination. This wasn't her fight, but she was there beside him all the same. He'd never had someone like that in his life. He should have said no right then and there; they'd made it to the end and he wasn't putting anyone else's life in jeopardy over his own anger. But he didn't….he couldn't….no matter how dangerous it was, he couldn't…just COULDN'T leave Europe until he made it right.

So they went, just him and her. They found the cabin and the Kommadant easy enough but what they didn't count on were the two SS Officers hiding in the upstairs bedroom. He heard her scream before the world went black. When he woke up he was tied to a chair…she was nearly naked…he was bleeding from the nose and mouth. They had her jacked up against a wall, two of them because he knew damn well one didn't stand a chance against her, they were ripping her clothes off. He pulled on the rope so hard his wrists bled, the pain nothing compared to watching what they were about to do to her. The chair splintered under his effort as he charged toward them the blunt force of a bullet stopping him cold.

They both survived thanks to Sisk and the rest of the Company storming through the door and shooting both those pricks in the head. He saw her later in the hospital; woke up with her sitting next to him in bed. How she could even stand to be near him was beyond understanding. He hated himself for what he did, hated what almost happened to her because of him, and hated that his anger almost killed them both. No matter how many Nazis he killed he could never make it right and he knew that now. Not many people understood him, or cared to really know, but she did and she trusted him only for hm to shit all over that.

He was leaving before her; going back to the States for rehab while she rejoined the Company. The first time they would be apart since Toccoa and it killed him. But maybe it was for the best; after all that had happened he thought she was better off without him. Still, he promised her that when it was all said and done and this shit was over he would meet her back home.

'I'll wait for you everyday at noon in Golden Gate Park.' Tears came to his eyes, he couldn't say no. So he cupped her cheek and nodded despite believing he wasn't worth the time of day where she was concerned. He was back in San Francisco a few weeks before her; he knew Easy was home when he saw Christenson in full uniform wandering around the rail depot looking like he didn't recognize home anymore. His family was waiting of course as he saw the happy reunion himself before his passenger in the backseat pounded on the window ordering him to hurry the hell up.

Everyday he was home he went to Golden Gate Park at noon and parked the cab. He never went in, though, he sat there for an hour and then he drove away like the piece of garbage he was. She didn't need him and shouldn't want him. And no matter how much his heart ached for her he couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt her anymore than he already had. So he left her there waiting day after day.

Stepping up onto the bottom of the railing he leaned forward at the waist, his hands still gripped the cold metal. Looking down at the cold water swirling beneath the bridge he wondered how much it would hurt if he just jumped; ended it all right now and hit the gray abyss face first. As a kid he heard of people jumping off the bridge all the time; mostly stories kids told one another to get a rise. One time he even saw the guys from Crissy Field hauling one out of the water, he remember that he just stared. He couldn't understand it and didn't understand it even more after going to war and watching his brothers beg for their fucking lives. But after Bastogne and Haguenau, after Landsberg…Kaufering…and after her jacked up against the wall, naked and bleeding all because of him….well he finally understood it. He knew why and how ending it all seemed like the better option. Before the war he would have puked if he had seen himself now. But he got here somehow, and maybe to understand that he would need to go back to the start.

Camp Toccoa, Georgia 1942

The hot summer sun beat down on his back as he stood at attention his rifle held stiffly against his shoulder. He was in the second squad of Easy Company which meant he stood in the second row when they lined up. Usually the poor bastards up front got the brunt of the abuse but no one was really safe from Sobel. For just a moment he dared allow his eyes to drift toward their CO. Thankfully for him Sobel's gaze was averted toward the ground, his head nodding back and forth in an imaginary conversation he was having with himself. "Christ…"

Just this morning Sobel had hit him over the head with his rusty bayonet and the company had to run Currahee because of it. His legs hurt, his back hurt, shit he didn't even know he had hurt. Taking in a deep breath he hoped his legs weren't shaking so bad that Sobel noticed.

"I have some very…" Sobel pinched his lips together looking at the sky for some kind of divine assistance. "Some very bad news." He felt his stomach clench. Bad news for Sobel meant a long fucking day for the rest of them. "The United States Army has seen fit to install a select group of women into combat units." He stopped looking at the men for any sort of reaction. Their desire to avoid falling into his trap far outweighing the effort it took to keep a straight face. He began to pace back and forth his hands fixed tightly behind his back. "I tried….I really tried to keep this distraction….this unfortunate arrangement… out of my Company." Liebgott swallowed hard, they were getting a female in the unit and while he didn't really give a fuck about it he did care that now Sobel had one more reason to beat their ass. Looking straight through the company toward the rear his eyes landed on someone. Pointing toward something nobody had the balls to look at, he motioned his finger toward the front.

Between the men a slightly more petite frame emerged. He couldn't see her face but that didn't stop him from looking. Her hair was dark brown and pulled into a low bun; she looked athletic and strong; nothing like most of the women he knew. Sobel beckoned her to stand in front of him at attention which she did.

"Name…"

"Bennett, Lucille M." Sobel looked down his nose at her as a smirk came to his face.

"Bennett you are a waste of my time….a waste of the Army's time. Anyone with half a brain knows you won't make it." He laughed like the dick he was. "Paratroopers are the best and my Company is the best and you have no place in either." She stood silent in front of him. "Why are you here ?"

"I want to be in the Airborne Sir. I think I can save some lives Sir !" Sobel looked at her mockingly. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a strap looking device with a metal windlass attached. Joe snuck a look; never having seen anything like it before.

"This….This…" Sobel held the strap up high shaking it like it was the most vile piece of contraband he ever laid eyes on. "This piece of shit strap is why she is here. Why our Company is now weaker. Why I need to watch all of you even closer." Sobel brought the device down to look at it again. "She thinks she can stop a man from bleeding out with this, she thinks it makes her deserve to be here with us….and the United States Military agrees…" He paused for dramatic effect. "But I don't agree." Looking over the men and waited for their reaction but again they gave him none. "What do you call this thing Private Bennett ?"

"A Combat Tourniquet Sir !" He regarded the device briefly before throwing it at her face. To her credit she didn't flinch.

"I call it bullshit." Sobel put his hands on his hips as he took stock of the Company. "Since we are now weaker because of her….we will have to work twice as hard from here on out." Turning back toward the mountain in the distance, Liebgott felt his heart sink. "Change into PT gear…we are running Currahee…" The men began to scatter back toward their tents as he yelled in her face "Hi Ho Silver !"

Joe could barely feel his legs as he chugged up the mountain for the second time today. Fuck her and her bullshit; one more reason for Sobel to ride their assess into the ground. Just perfect. She was in front of him a few lengths; in full uniform having not yet been issued PT gear. Sobel was in the front ranting and raving as usual. Ahead of him he saw her trip and go down to one knee; figures….just getting started and already couldn't make it. The other men parted and went around her not wanting Sobel to catch them giving her any help. Jogging up to her Liebgott stopped holding his hand down. She looked up at him and for a second he froze, not even remembering how to breath. She was one of the best goddamn things he had ever seen. Dark brown hair, light blue eyes, and smile to die for. Swallowing the cotton in his mouth he took a deep breath remembering where he was. This only made things worse and he wasn't about to let himself fall end over end into something he didn't want, need, or frankly understand. So he did what he had done his entire life and the reason why he stopped to help her in the first place; he was an asshole plain and simple, faster she knew it the better off both of them would be.

"Joe Liebgott…." She relaxed at the prospect of someone having her back already.

"Lucy Bennett…" Wrapping her hand around his, he began to pull her up before yanking his hand letting her fall back on her ass. Looking up at him in confusion she was about to open her mouth but her cut her off.

"Quit now and save us all a lot of trouble….You don't belong here." Trotting off to rejoin the Company, Joe didn't look back once. He had already seen enough to know he was in big trouble.

TBC…let me know what you guys think !