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softspeirs · 4 months

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These Heartbeats Clear (1): Rosie Rosenthal x OC

A/N: Rosie/OC… literally couldn’t resist. I was torn between this OC and a Red Cross OC from the flak house, but I think I wanted someone who would see him during all the hard parts, not just for a week when he’s Suffering. Spoilers for eps 5 and 6 of MoTA.

one - adjustment period.

Grace watches warily as the crew approaches on the jeep - she’s not sure what she expected… for them to be jubilant and laughing, looking refreshed and ready for action? Nervous, scared, resigned… some combination of the two?

Her eyes land on Rosie, as they’re prone to do. He seems calm. That’s not a surprise, but the glimpse of something — fear? hesitation? — in his eyes is.

Helen, standing on her left, shifts her weight, her posture the picture of worry and sadness.

“Try to pull yourself upright,” Grace says quietly.

"I'm trying--" Helen says, her voice dull. To her credit, she flashes a smile as the guys get closer, her frown softening.

"Ladies," Rosie says, fingers on the brim of his hat. "What's the welcome wagon for?"

"Coffee." Helen says, "Just brewed."

He smiles thankfully at her, but his eyes go back to Grace's. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Lieutenant Fleming--"

"Bearer of semi-bad news, I'm afraid." Grace says, ignoring the way her heart picks up a little at his half smile. She rushes to finish before she can see his face transform - he can't afford any more bad news. "Doc wants to see everyone, just a quick chat. After that there's food in the mess."

He nods. "What's one more doctor?" He mutters. She suspects she wasn't supposed to hear that. Then, louder, "You heard her, gents. Doctor's orders."

They grumble a little, but head into the infirmary behind Grace and Helen, taking a cup of coffee each as they go. Helen follows behind, empty tray tucked under her arm. She looks back at Grace, but Rosie is lingering behind, twisting the brim of his cap in his hands, and Grace can't bring herself to leave him out here alone.

She waves Helen on, telling her she'll catch up in a minute.

“Captain?”

He starts, like he forgot she was there. He also looks like he’s forgotten about his promotion. And that’s the thing with flying — a promotion isn’t always wanted. Deserved, certainly. But it often comes at the expense of other pilots, and it’s always a tough pill to swallow. “How’s it been? How’s— everyone?” He asks her. His face is so earnest. It makes her throat tight.

“As well as we can be, Captain. Most of the replacements are here.” She hesitates before continuing. She’s been here right along, with the Red Cross girls and the doctor and the other nurses. But just because she’s been here as long as everyone else doesn’t mean she understands what the flight crews have gone through. “How was your week off?”

“Too long.” He says, no hesitation. His smile is small, wry, a barely-there upturn of his lips. “I wanted to get back.”

“And you’re alright?” The question comes out almost without her permission. They don’t even know each other that well - she’s patched up a few of his scrapes and bruises and they’ve made idle conversation as he checked on some of his crew that ended up in the infirmary, but this is bordering on too casual.

But she’d argued with him, the day before he went on leave. She’d been too casual then, too, and so had he, both of them lost in the emotions of the Munster mission.

It feels a little awkward now, but she does her best to press on.

She can’t help but worry about him. She admires him, at the heart of it. The way he kept his men together through it all, the way he always has a kind word and a joke for anyone who needs it.

She just hopes he’d say so if he’s the one who needs it, this time.

“I’m as good as I can be, Lieutenant.” He replies.

“Grace.” She reminds him softly. “It’s— you don’t have to call me Lieutenant.”

“Grace, then.” He echos. “I’m okay. Have to be. For them.”

“I hope—“ she pauses, looking down at her shoes. “Forgive me sir, but I hope you know that we’re all here for you. What you went through—“

“I know.” He interrupts her, not unkindly. “You think we haven’t seen the way you’ve been there for us? Even when you thought we didn’t notice?” He shakes his head. “You write our letters when our hands shake, and get us extra blankets, and tell us it’s going to be okay when it’s—“ He stops himself, shaking his head.

When his eyes meet hers, they’re so soft she can barely stand it. This is dangerous, what this conversation is turning into, but she’s also relieved to hear that what she’s been doing besides being a nurse and keeping them alive has made a difference.

“I appreciate it more than I can put into words, Grace.” His voice is rough.

There’s a long moment of prolonged eye contact. Her senses are screaming, danger, danger! But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t look away.

“You just keep yourself and those boys alive, Captain.” She says, her voice thick. “For the rest of us.”

He salutes, a jaunty thing that lightens the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

She laughs, and he grins at her in response. “Go on, you have to meet with the Doctor too. Just standard procedure.”

He hums. “Heard a lot of that the last week.” He takes a few steps away and then stops, “Grace?” His face is suddenly boyish, shy. “You’d better call me Rosie. Or at least by my first name.”

It feels right — she’s given up calling anyone else by their rank anymore. They’ve been through too much for that. The new guys will be an adjustment - she’s not sure she can manage getting attached to any of them. Because it’s inevitable, what happens after.

But the line has already been crossed with this man, looking at her in the fading sunlight.

“You got it, Rosie.”

His answering smile stays with her until the next day, long after the roar of B-17s fades into the distance.

#rosie rosenthal x oc #masters of the air fic #mota fanfiction #i am…. going crazy???!#he’s got a hold on me guys it can’t be ignored anymore #please welcome grace fleming #softspeirs mota fanfiction #oc: grace fleming

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