Chapter Text
Eugene had always had a certain sensitivity to him.
As a child, he would randomly refuse to cross the street, only for a car to speed past moments later. He would refuse to visit certain places, see different people. It was all random and accompanied by odd lapses of his attention and terrible nightmares.
He grew to be a serious child too. Some days he would just grow quiet, and those tended to be the days something sad or terrible happened. When the boy was six, he was quiet, and later the Roe family learned that they’re elderly neighbors Mrs. Linde had died of a heart attack. And as Eugene grew, the quieter he got. Whether it was his growing awareness or the growing warzone that was his house, nobody knew for certain.
When Eugene was twelve, he was a short and slight thing. He remembered having a quiet day that he spent staring at his Ma as she worked in the kitchen. His grandma did too. Neither of them said anything.
It wouldn’t have made any difference.
She left that night, with just the clothes on her back and the clutch purse she always carried into town. Eugene remembered getting out of the bed where he was pretending to sleep. He shuffled to the rickety front door screen and watched as his Ma walked past his Grandma, who was sitting in her rocker on the porch.
“Goodbye daughter,” His Grandma had said
“I’m just going to the neighbors to see if they have any calming medicine for Eugene,”
“No, you’re not,”
That was the last he saw of her.
By the time Eugene was 16 he was quiet, shy, and spent as much time as he could with his Grandma on the porch. He had grown a bit and was doing alright in school. He was always sporting fresh bruises and didn’t have but one friend. Things stayed that way until he graduated, through his time working at the gas station, until he enlisted and joined Easy Company in 1943.
By the time he got to Toccoa, he had stopped freezing every time a flash hit him and was near dead silent. His Pa had taught him well.
*
“Hey Doc, you think Sobel’s got any Gyp blood in him with all the visions he has?” Guarnerre joked, giving him a pat on the back. Eugene chuckled awkwardly and thankfully Guarnerre didn’t stick by to hear his nonexistent response. Eugenes’ Pa hadn’t been entirely truthful when he beat into Eugene what happened to Seer’s in the 40’s. Nowadays, they weren’t all rounded into labs, only the powerful ones.
To many deaths, apparently, and they had to scale back.
If you enlisted as one, the military would have you tested to figure out the strength of your sight. Powerful got shipped off to get poked, prodded, drugged, and beat. Moderates could find themselves constantly monitored and promoted quicker, especially if their vision reports proved accurate. Weak was left to be an average joe, unless his vision reports started looking too good. Then, he’d get shipped of to be poked, prodded, drugged, and beat.
Eugene knew what he was, and he’d rather get shot than let the officers figure it out too.
But that wasn’t mean he wouldn’t use it to be a damn good medic
*
Eugene had just jumped out of the plane when the vision creeping hit him full force in the air. His muscled tensed, his eyes unfocused, and he hurled toward the ground.
Blood, snow, a destroyed church, blue fabric scrap. Smoke, silence, pain. He saw the rubble and felt the cold in his bones. The blue scrap was soft on his callused hands. There was smoke in the air, bodies lining the street, and the stench of pain and suffering was thick in his nose. His heart lay heavy in his chest.
“Roe! Deploy your chute, goddammit, what are you doing!” Somebody yelled through the haze. The deep-set cold in his bones returned to frigid wind and the heaviness reverted back to weightlessness. Eugenes’ eyes snapped open and he pulled the chutes’ chord as fast as he could. Everyone else was floating down easily as he hurtled past them praying for a survivable landing.
Eugene smacked into the ground.
It knocked everything out of him, including his breakfast. His ears rang and his vision swam but he could see the vague shapes of Winters and Spina running to him. Spina was immediately on the ground with him, reaching out. At the sight of his outstretched hand, Eugene reeled back.
“Easy there, Doc, that was quite the crash you just had,” Winters said softly.
“Yeah, what the fuck was that Roe” Spina snapped, still grabbing at his shoulders and eyeing him for damage, “You’ve jumped before, so you suicidal or some shit?”.
Eugene shook his head silently. Spina scowled, Winters sighed.
“Did you have a vision?”
Eugene snapped his head up to look at Winters.
“I’m obligated to ask, per protocol of a Seer,”. Right. Of course. Eugene didn’t miss the odd looks he got here in there, and how they were amplified whenever Sobel did something stupid or crazy. And considering how often that was, he got a lot of looks.
“Damn Winters, you believe in that shit, sir”?
“I do when it’s saved my life,” Winter replied, giving Eugene a pointed look.
“I didn’t realize you were the real deal, Eugene. So, was it one?”
“No, I couldn’t grip my chute deployer,”. Eugene knew it was a weak excuse. Winters sure as hell didn’t believe him, but thankfully he dropped it and let Spina fret over him. He’d be damned if he got shipped back to the states for more testing. He’d already gone once, during training in Toccoa.
It destroyed him for a few weeks.
“You’re damn lucky you didn’t break anything, Doc” His fellow medic said, helping him to his feet, “Take it easy for a few days though, you know what to do,”.
*
By the time they made it Bastogne, Eugene was wrecked. Flashes hit him constantly, painting images of flowing blood and viscera. He avoided the guys as much as he could, since it was their potential futures he was being forced to see, but he was a medic, so it wasn’t much.
Duty came first.
And his sleep wasn’t any better, dreams filled with vague screaming and a sense of impending doom so strong it trailed him like a hungry dog during the waking hours. And worst of all, the vision from their last jump wouldn’t leave him alone. Eugene couldn’t get the blue scrap out of his head. He found himself reaching into his pocket looking for something and realizing what he was looking for wasn’t there yet.
Missing someone he hasn’t met.
It terrified him, considering how the vision had played out.
He was scaring some of the men, and he knew it. During his rounds, he’d constantly pause from flashes. Once, he sat for a full minute staring at Muck, Penkala, and Malarkey, his finger twitching and his jaw slack. But it was as vague as it was horrifying. All he got was Malarkeys’ devasted face and the sound of mortar fire. It was nothing concrete he could prevent.
Fucking useless.
The worst was when he’d get a vision, a flash, or even a feeling so strong and targeted he’d go sprinting to Guarnere or Hoobler expecting to see them bleeding out only to find them smoking and looking at him like he had two heads.
He did, he supposed. One was Doc Roe and the other was a mental patient spouting prophecy of death.
Lieutenant Dike also sported a strong dislike for him, which was both for obvious reasons, and more than fair. Even Winters, ever so calm and collected, was unnerved. Eugene would get called into his tent every couple of days to report what he was seeing and to make sure he hadn’t completely cracked. Spoiler: he has. They just can’t afford to admit it because there’s no way Spina could handle all of Easy by himself out here.
It also helped that Eugene refused to admit more than an unimportant flash here and there.
The only one who wasn’t unnerved by his pacing, staring, and coldness was Edward Heffron.
“Hey Gene! How you doin’ today?”. Heffron was much too chipper for the hellhole they were in. Eugene was sitting at the foot of a tree, staring at his hands, thinking again. Heffron, undeterred by his silence, took a seat next to him.
“I got Lucky Strikes off of Guarnerre, want one?” Heffron asked, holding out the pack. Eugene grabbed one, steadily ignored the flash of missing limbs, and pulled out his lighter, and lighted both cigarettes. He took a long drag and tried to let it soothe him.
“You missed a pretty funny dinner t’day, Doc. Luz was impersonating Winters and then guess who walks up behind him?”
“Winters,”
“Yeah! Haha! The look on Luz’s face was priceless. Especially after what he was saying. Running his mouth, per usual. Talkin’ about their days at Toccoa. You were at Toccoa, right? Hey, you alright Doc?”. Heffron looked at him curiously. Eugene hadn’t realized it, but he had started searching for that blue scrap again, patting every damn pocket he had. Goddammit, he was cracking. And if he was cracking then he would be too slow and then--. No, he wouldn’t let himself go down that road.
“I’m gonna do my rounds,”
“Sure! I’ll come with, if you don’t mind?”. Eugene didn’t respond. He didn’t understand why the hell Heffron talked to him on his own free will. Granted, they shared a foxhole, but that didn’t mean they were friends. Just partnered in this freezing hellscape. He tried to be as unapproachable as possible but nothing seemed to drive Heffron off. Eugene took a level of pride in being as unattached as possible. It was tough with the men from Toccoa, and he sure as hell wasn’t planning on getting to know the replacements before they inevitably got blown up or shot to smithereens. But Heffron just wouldn’t quit.
He made his rounds quick and efficient, just like usual. Nobody really wanted to chat with him and who could blame them? Eugene went through the motions with minimal ‘issues’ until they arrived at his final stop; a few of the boys by Winters and Nixons tent. Heffron gave them a cheery hello and Eugene gave them an easy nod. Then he saw Hoobler.
Laughing. Pride. A Luger. A gunshot. Blood. Fear. Blood. Pleading. Blood.
“Hey Hoob, you gotta Luger yet?” He asked quietly. It might seem like a normal question if he hadn’t gone slack for a few seconds. They were all staring at him, trying to pick him apart, and Eugene shrunk down more than he already had.
“Never mind, how are you Hoob?”
“What’dya see Doc?” One of the guys asked. He couldn’t tell who, he couldn’t hear much besides a gunshot and cries echoing in his head. Eugene ignored him and looked expectantly at Hoobler.
“I’m alright Doc, the extra thermal you found for me has been a godsend,” Right. Hoobler had cold-ached legs so bad he was having a hard time walking. A few days ago, Eugene had scrounged up an extra pair of thermal pants for him. Eugene continued to ignore the looks and questions and checked on everyone. When he was done, he took a step back to leave but hesitated.
“Hey Hoob,”
“Yeah Doc?”
“Quit huntin’ for a Luger. Please,”. He didn’t stick around for a response, but he caught the look of disbelief on Hoob, and every else’s face. Just as he was making his getaway, however, he came face to face with Lieutenant Dike.
“What’s going on here, Doc?” Dike asked, giving him a harsh look.
“Doc here is just doin’ his rounds, sir,” Heffron piped up from behind him. Dike immediately rounded to him and snapped,
“Did I address you, Heffron?”
“No, sir,”
“Then be quiet. So? Doc?”
“Just makin’ rounds, sir,” Eugene said quietly. Dike’s look darkened.
“Well enough of that. Tell Spina he does all the rounds now,”
“Sir?”
“Are you questioning my orders? I don’t need you wandering around spouting off death wishes to these fine men,”
“Yes, sir,”. He replied quietly. Dike turned to the group behind Eugene and Heffron.
“He tell you boys any nonsense?”. Eugene thanked his Pa for his excellent poker face. Without it, he thought he might’ve started screaming right then and there.
“No, sir,”. It was Hoob. God bless you Hoob. Eugene made a silent promise to find him an extra pair of socks as a quiet thank you.
“Hmm. Maybe we ought to have you reevaluated on those abilities of yours, Doc,”. Eugene felt a pang of fear flash through him. Dike had to know what went on in those centers, he had friends in high places. He wouldn’t be able to hide as well as he did last time, not after everything he’s seen here.
Fucking bastard.
“Lieutenant Dike, I hope you’re not suggesting sending away one of the best medics in Bastogne, are you?” Winters said, coming out of his tent. He looked pissed and thank God for that.
“Yes sir, just an idea,”
“Well, it’s not happening, the Doc’s here to say, especially with his abilities” Winters said, “Speaking of which, Roe, come speak with me for a moment,” He disappeared back into his tent. Eugene immediately followed him, happy to get away from Dike.
*
“So, if ya don’t mind me asking, what did Winters tell you earlier,”. Heffron asked, breaking the silence in their foxhole. It was dark out now, and Eugene felt the rising guilt of inevitably waking up Heffron with another nightmare starting to seep in.
“He asked me what I told Hoob,”
“About the Luger?” Eugene nodded quietly and Heffron sighed.
“Listen, I know I asked you earlier but I gotta ask again. Are you alright, Gene? Be honest now,”. Eugene felt something chip inside him at the sincere and gentle tone. Heffron was usually loud and boisterous but somehow turned soft around Eugene. He didn’t understand it. He sighed, and in his exhale came something crawling at the edges of his vision.
Julian. Heffron. Gushing blood. The neck. Pinned down. Blood. Promises.
One thing about the visions and flashes is that he could never see the end. Who lived, who died, it was all a mystery.
It was all useless.
Heffron placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, noticing what was happening. Eugene flinched away.
“Eugene?” He asked quietly. Eugene silently rolled over onto his side, facing the dirt wall away from Heffron. He felt something crawling inside him and it felt like poison.
“Goodnight, Heffron,”. He was nauseous. The blood that splattered in the flash was staining his eyes and gunshots were echoing again. Heffron gave him another gentle pat before turning to sleep. At the contact, Eugene tensed again with a sharp inhale.
A Smile. Eyes. Wandering hands.
It was short, almost too short for Eugene to call it a flash, and there were no faces, voices, or anything to identify except for himself. Eugene threw it in his overflowing mental junkpile, sweet love mixing with the blood and horrors of war.
*
Heffron gently nudged him awake once the ass crack of dawn started to rear its ugly face. This time, the soft touch didn’t catapult him into imagery of gore or romance. He was, however, already awake and staring at the dirt again. He could barely rip his eyes away as Heffron ushered him up and to the eating area. As they walked, it became apparent Eugene’s little warning to Hoob had become public information. None of the boys said anything, they never would, but the cold shoulders, stares, and pitying look from Winters was enough for him to figure things out. He filled his tin with barely more than two bites and retreated to a tree on the edge of where everyone was gathered, ditching Heffron.
This time the annoying red head stayed away.
The realization made Eugene more…emotional than he wanted it to.
Eugene ate his less-than-sufficient portion in silence and solitude. He stayed close even if he was unwanted. The company needed him, despite his flaws, and leaving them in favor of stewing self-pity was out of the question.
Eugene might be classified as Weak, but he knew damn well it was because his Pa made him so good at hiding his abilities. He never brough it up, except for that one time in Toccoa, when Luz was imitating Sobel’s muttering during a vision. Then, Eugene decided to clutch his chest during lunch and start spouting nonsense to scare the shit out of the men. It worked and earned him bathroom duty for two weeks. Well worth it, and the men had found it funny at the time. They wouldn’t now. They couldn’t. Not when it was their lives instead of god knows what. And not when it, no he, was erratic and nonsensical.
Nothing he saw ever came true.
Except he had been right dozens of times these past months. He let them think he was a lunatic, however, only opening his mouth if he was positive on what he saw.
Like that damned Luger.
Approaching footsteps broke Eugene out of his thoughts, and the sight of Lieutenant Dike rushed him to his feet and to attention.
“Roe! What are you doing!” The Lieutenant snapped, pushing a finger in his face. Eugene kept his face clear, but he noticed the men turning to see what was going on.
“Sir, I’m eating and checking on Easy,” He said, barely audible. Dike always did that to him.
“What was that, Roe? Visions got your tongue? It looks to me like your daydreaming,”. Eugene stayed quiet. The jab was fair, but questioning his work ethic was a step too far, and Dike knew it.
“If I catch you slacking again, Roe, I’m sending you to an aid station for mental distress, understood? You will not jeopardize these men with your glorified daydreams. One more incident and this company will find a medic that delivers aid, not random prophecies of death,”. Dike gave him one more nasty look and then walked past him, presumably going to bother Winters. Eugene stood quietly after Dike had gone and refused to look at the men who were all staring at him. The snow sludge was much more interesting than the hateful looks he would no doubt receive.
“Don’t listen to ‘em, Doc. You aren’t jeopardizing us for sit,” Heffron said. It broke the silence, and soon enough the morning chatter resumed. Eugene stayed quiet and still, and a pang hit his heart when nobody else piped up.
Heffron’s words were practically meaningless. He would’ve said those words even if he was hurting the company more than helping.
Eugene didn’t respond.
*
The rest of the day passed quietly, and he thanked God that it did. Hardly any ‘issues’, no enemy contact, what more could he ask for. By the time night fell again, he was doing rounds and trying to stay as far as possible from Dike.
“Hey there Toye, how’s your foot?” He got down and leaned into Toye and Guarnere’s foxhole. They were present at both his latest “death prophecy” and Dike’s reprimand, so Eugene braced himself for some hostility. But the two were surprisingly open, and as Eugene was getting up to leave, he made a mental note to scrounge up some boots for Toye.
“Hey, Doc?”
“Yeah, Bill?”
“Toye and I just want you to know we think Dike’s full of shit,”.
*
By the time he got back to his foxhole, Heffron was already inside and smoking another Lucky Strike. Eugene was quiet and careful as he climbed in. Heffron hadn’t said or even looked at him since this morning with Lieutenant Dike. The old familiar sense of guilt began to gnaw at Eugene, but he refused to acknowledge it as he settled in for the night.
There were no friendly claps on the shoulder or endless chatter tonight. And it was his fault. He had finally managed to scare off the only person who seemed to like him out here. Sure, the guys were nice enough when he’d gone a few days without incident, and he’d known them for a while. But Heffron had been the closest thing he’d had to a friend in this god-forsaken war.
Goddammit.
Eugene would be the man his Pa had made him to be, however, and be loud about his shortcomings.
“Sorry for all this,”. Heffron jumped at his words and turned to him quickly. He looked confused. Why did he look confused? Heffron was staring at him now, and Eugene quickly cleared his throat and turned to look ahead of him instead of at Heffron.
“For the Seer crap I do” He clarified, “I know it’s bad,”. Heffron opened his mouth to speak but the closed it again. Eugene had managed to shut up the biggest motormouth in the company.
“Are you sorry that you’ve been struggling with it lately. Y’know, with the nightmares and vague warnings. Or are you sorry you’re a Seer in general?”. Now it was Eugene’s turn to stay quiet and confused. He didn’t know which answer was the right one. Or which one was even the truth.
“Both?”
“Well, don’t be sorry for having a hard time. And you sure as hell better not be sorry for a that big part of you for existing,”. Heffron said lightly.
“It ain’t a big part of me” Heffron raised his eyebrow disbelieving at him. Eugene continued, “I’m weak and what I see doesn’t come true”. Heffron scoffed at him.
“Yeah? Then how’d you somehow know how much morphine Lieutenant Moose Heyliger had a few weeks back? When he got shot by friendly fire? Nobody had any idea, and you ‘had a feeling’ when you were treating him in the jeep. And didn’t you save Winters once in Toccoa? I think I heard Randleman talking about it once,”
“So I’ve gotten lucky a few times. It doesn’t matter” He replied, “I’m still sorry,”
“It doesn’t bother me, quit saying you’re sorry, Gene,”. Eugene didn’t know what to say. If Heffron said he didn’t care that Eugene was cracking from constant visions of death, then why had he gone quiet today. He tried to stifle the question, but it ripped out of him.
“Then why’d you start acting like everyone else after I told Hoob to quit going after a Luger,”
“What?”
“Before Hoob you wouldn’t leave me alone. Finally realize who you’re hanging with?” Eugenes’ tone was bitter, and he was bitter. It was hard not to be. He saw what happened to Sobel and how he had been removed when the visions got to be too much and he’d been convinced he heard Colonel Sink back in France. He heard the hushed conversations and understood when he’d walk over to a group and suddenly, they’d go quiet. And he’d been able to blow them off or even join in before D-Day. Before Market Garden and now Bastogne. Now those conversations happened all around him, and he was their new Sobel. Half insane and yet somehow still in-charge of something.
“Well, you’re not exactly warm and fuzzy, Doc. But never mind that. I left you alone cause you wouldn’t stop flinching or freezing every time I touched you. I didn’t mind annoying you, but I’m not trying to scare you all day,”.
Oh.
“It ain’t you, it’s the Seer stuff,”
“Huh?”
“When folks touch me, it’ll sometimes trigger ‘em” He cleared his throat, “Everything’s worse here,”
“Holy--. I’m so fucking sorry Gene,”
“What for? ‘S not your fault”
“What the hell d’ya mean ‘what for’. You just told me I’ve been triggering those abilities of yours and from what I gather it isn’t exactly pleasant. And y’know I noticed none of the other guys ever give you slaps on the back or playful punches” Heffron looked so damn sad sitting there apologizing and Eugene couldn’t stand it.
“Heffron, its--,”
“I’m such an idiot I thought it was, no offense Gene, cause you ain’t exactly social. But no! I’ve been damn near torturing you for weeks!”.
“Heffron, quiet dammit. You weren’t torturing me,”
“Yes I was!”
“You weren’t. It usually wasn’t visions, just flashes, so--,”
“Flashes ain’t any better, Gene! Oh goddamit I--,”
“Stop Heffron. I said you weren’t torturing me and that’s that. Quit beatin’ yourself up over nothing. I haven’t had a big vision in weeks, just nasty flashes or small visions that are practically a flash. And they were rarely caused by you so if you want something to blame, blame me or this goddamn war. Just not yourself,”. The words tumbled out of him and when he was done Heffron was looking at him in surprise. A beat of silence, and then Heffron asked,
“What are they like?” Eugene looked at Heffron in surprise. It was the last thing he expected Heffron to ask. He ran his hand through his hair and down his face. God what a mess.
“I-- I don’t know, Babe. They’re awful, I’ll tell you that much,”. He paused and took a deep breath. Heffron waited for him to continue, looking at him with those big blue eyes. Eugene nervously swallowed and said,
“It’s like a bucket of icy water get dumped on you at first. You can’t--. Well, I can’t ever feel them coming. If it’s a flash it stays at the water. Harsh and shocking but manageable. If it’s a vision. It’s—It’s like you’re free-falling or drowning or both. You can’t make sense of anything, and these horrible images are coming bye, twisted and turned so awfully it’s enough to make you hurl. Your stomach drops, your head is scrambled beyond repair, and then you come back with a snap” Eugene reached out and snapped his fingers quick. Heffron jumped at the sudden noise. “Suddenly your back in your body and everyone’s waiting but you can’t catch back up because you just saw—” He broke off again. “And I can’t tell what’s real half the time. Shit, I keep looking for this blue piece of fabric I saw in a vision a few weeks ago. I haven’t had blue fabric since my Ma, so it’s been fucking years, Babe. It’s all worse here. I can’t--. It’s making me go crazy,”. When he finished his voice was barely above a whisper and his eyes watered.
“Christ, I don’t think I’ve so much in years” He breathed shakily, trying to lighten the mood he had turned practically black. “Sorry,”.
Heffron was quiet as Eugene hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face. His chest hurt and he tried to be quiet.
“Sorry” He whispered again, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry,”
“Now who’s saying sorry to much, huh,”. Eugene let out a watery chuckle and peeked out at Heffron. He too had his knees to his chest, and he was smiling softly at Eugene. In the back of his mind, Eugene registered his heart flutter, and he smiled back.