Paris, France
March 8, 1946
6:26 A.M.
"I'm not tired." Adelie mumbled. She sat upon her cot. She hugged Moisey's hat as she rubbed exhaustion out of her eyes.
"But if you're not going to sleep then you won't have any energy to play. And that's no fun." An older teenager urged. She gently wrapped a blanket around Adelaide's shoulders. Miguel soundlessly slept next to his sister.
"Sylvie, I miss Moisey." The Leon sister shakily sighed as she finally laid down. "He usually tells us a bedtime story." Adelie murmured as she glanced at the battered pillow and blanket that sat next to her cot. It was Eugene's "bed". He always stayed near to the Leons so he could make sure they were protected. Though, it was mainly because Adelie always snuck over to sleep in Moisey's lap while he read. The fatherly fighter never minded it.
"I miss him too. But he'll be alright. I bet Monsieur Moisey will be back by the time you wake up." Sylvie reassured, trying to hide her frown. Even she had her doubts. Eugene's disappearance was the talk of the den.
"You think so?" Adelie asked. She nestled her face into the missing man's hat as she peered up at Sylvie. It smelled of cigarette smoke and gunpowder. It smelled like safety. Like Eugene.
"I know so." Sylvie tucked the girl in with her brother and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest, okay?"
Adelaide nodded, resting her tired eyes until she finally drifted off into a deep sleep.
————————————————————————
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Who is it?" A fighter called through the heavy door that shielded the den's entrance.
"Boone! Open up, please hurry. It's an emergency." A deep voice from outside answered.
"Not until you tell me your name." Boone called back.
"It's Dax, you tâmpit! Now open the damn door!" Dax shouted, harshly kicking at the door in frustration. Moisey gave a rattling cough as he clung to his comrade's arm. A glob of clotted blood and drool splattered across the giant's coat. Eugene limply tried to wipe it off Dax's sleeve with a weak groan.
"Pas encore, connard..." Boone growled at Dax's tone. "How do I know you're not a Nazi? You didn't knock properly!" The guard smirked. He began to toy with the man on the other side.
A loud, agitated shout came from beyond the door as Dax grew impatient. He wanted to cry in frustration. He had two dying people depending on him. One a child, and one a friend. But he was going to be stopped at the door of safety just because Boone wanted to mess with him?
"I don't know the fucking knock! Let me in!" Dax snarled, using his left shoulder to barge against the door. It rattled on its heavy hinges in protest. The ghost boy in his arms slowly gained consciousness from the sudden movement.
"No knock, no entry, gitan!"
The Giant was just about to slam himself against the door again when he felt Moisey limply patting at his arm. The once mighty fighter now weakly rested his bloodied head against Dax's shoulder. His jaw helplessly dangled open as he desperately tried to speak. All that came out was an inhuman gag and more blood.
"I know, Eugene, I know... I'm trying..." Dax quietly hushed. "Boone, you open this door right now! I'm begging you!" His tone quickly changed from a soft whisper to a fierce boom.
"Non! Va te faire foutre!" The agitated guard shouted back.
The Romanian now grew furious at Boone's childish behavior. He kicked at the door again and again until his foot began to throb. He suddenly felt like he was never going to get the help his ghastly companions needed. He was so close, yet so far away from saving them.
Moisey continued to loosely claw at Dax's sleeve. His large brown eyes silently pleading while he dopily scanned Dax's face. He so badly wanted to speak, but he couldn't. Only rattling wheezes and disgusting gurgles escaped his throat. The giant began to cry as he looked down at the rat and the ghost.
"Eugene I-I... I'm sorry. I'm trying. I don't know what to do. Just, hang on a little longer please... Just, just give me a moment..." Dax whispered as he scrunched his eyes shut to try and fend off his tears. His mind twisted with emotions as he tried to remember the secret knock. He couldn't even remember there being a knock. Since when was there a knock?!
As Dax tried to regain his thoughts, Eugene's constant tugging at his arm kept catching his attention.
Tug. Tug tug tug. Tug tug...
Tug. Tug tug tug. Tug tug...
Tug. Tug tug-
Moisey's insistent pawing came to a stop as he let out another nasty, wet cough. More blood and saliva oozed from his mouth. His whole body trembled in pain as he buried his mauled face against Dax's shoulder. A long muffled, and mournful moan escaped him. Moisey was growing frustrated with his weakness. He was choking on his own blood, and his knees were starting to give out. His body was clearly failing him. The Mighty Monsieur Moisey was quickly falling from his glory.
"Is that the knock, Eugene? Is that what you were doing?" Dax urgently asked with a wince as he watched his comrade struggle. Moisey lifted his head slightly to nod up at Dax. As he did so, the Romanian watched Eugene fight unconsciousness as his eyes began to slowly roll back into his head.
Knock! Knock knock knock! Knock knock!
Dax quickly rapped the pattern against the door. He began praying under his breath as he waited for it to open. He gently rocked the ghost in his arms as the child stirred awake. Moisey groggily reached a cold, dead hand to weakly pat at Dax's neck in a form of praise.
The door finally swung open. Scrappy young Boone stood there with his hands on his hips. He was about to ridicule Dax. That is, until his eyes rested upon the grotesque guests the giant brought with him.
"I need all medics on board! Help! Anyone!" Dax howled out as he stumbled into the den. Boone rushed to help the Romanian lead Moisey towards the med bay. Or, at least who he thought was Moisey. The man was near unrecognizable. The ghost boy's pale gaze lulled around as he faded in and out.
Esmeé, Colette, and Docteur Birde all rushed into place as the wounded entered the room.
"The boy, lay him here." Esmeé directed. Dax gently set the boy down onto the a cot. The young nurse introduced herself before immediately going to work. The Aryan flinched away from her in fear and pain. Though Esmeé's gentle tone and friendly face quickly soothed him.
"Monsieur Moisey will go here. Hurry. I fear we don't have much time with him." Birde sternly spoke. Dax turned to pick up the mutilated companion who rested against his arm. Moisey immediately collapsed against the giant's chest with a horrible, gurgling sob. His weak hands reached to cling onto Dax's shirt for support. He was all but dead weight. The blood loss was getting at him. The pain had grown to be unbearable.
Dax peered down at Moisey's distorted face. Now that they were in a well lighted room, he saw how truly horrific Eugene's wounds were. But the Romanian found it hard to look away. Even with a shredded face, Eugene still had the same determined, cunning look in his eyes that he always did. He was fighting, and by God, he was going to fight until his last breath.
"I know it hurts, buddy, I know... Come on, we're gonna get you fixed up..." Dax cooed between tears as he lifted Moisey up. The wounded fighter looked like a lifeless rag doll. His body limp and loose as the Giant gingerly laid him on the medical table. The Rat continued to stare up at the Dax's face. Like his eyes were desperately trying to tell him something. As Colette shooed the Giant away, Moisey gave his rescuer two final pats on the hand before finally succumbing to unconsciousness. He was at home. The boy was safe. Things would be alright now. He could rest his stubborn soul. For now, at least.
"Dax, I'm going to need you to leave. I'm sorry. But we can't have anyone in the way." Nurse Colette stated as she ushered him out of the med bay. The patched privacy curtains closed with great urgency as Dax lumbered out of the way.
A crowd of curious fighters watched Dax as he turned around. The rag tag residents of the Den had quickly gathered to see what the commotion was about. Hushed whispers flurried between them as Dax's piercing glare looked down upon them.
"What are you all staring at? Scram. You heard Colette..." The Giant uttered as he balanced another cigarette between his lips. His bloodied hands trembling as he lit the smoke. The clump of people slowly dispersed into their own gossiping groups. Wary glances focused on the bloody stains that marked Dax's woolen trench coat.
The Romanian let out a smokey sigh of relief as he strode over to find a seat. The worn, wooden chair creaked as he rested upon it. Dax simply stared ahead, smoking like a chimney while he heard the distant words of the medical personnel.
"Lost too much blood..."
"Infection will set in..."
"A severe concussion..."
"We don't have the supplies..."
"Possibly mute..."
"Permanently disfigured..."
"Most likely won't survive..."
Dax's hunter green gaze transfixed on the floor. He bowed his great head in thought. The man was tired. So very tired. Was all his work for nothing? Were Moisey and the boy really going to die?
Admittedly, Dax and Eugene never saw eye to eye. They were Manon's right hand men, and the two were polar opposites. A tense struggle for power was bound to happen.
For Dax always wanted to go in guns blazing. He was one to take everything by force. He wanted to instill fear into the Nazi's in the name of resistance. A hot-headed warrior of brutish strength. The type to use wrath to topple his foes. He wished to dance in the blood of his enemies, to rejoice in the underdog's hidden strength. Dax was never one to hide. He found it to be shameful. He wanted to boast their power and make the German's ashamed to have ever viewed them all as weak. A once peaceful traveling musician turned to bitter violence and rage.
Though his brother-in-arms was as cunning as a fox. Moisey's methods were shrouded in a slick and sleek darkness. He wanted to take the Nazi's down without being noticed. Eugene found it satisfying to disappear without a trace, to be a silent killer. He loved to leave the oh-so-intelligent Nazis in a dumbfounded state. To make them feel anxious. Clueless of the resistance's next move. Moisey's goal was to tear the Reich down piece by painful piece as they turned a blind eye to the "in-superior peoples". He wanted to outsmart them in every way. Eugene wanted to prove that they were more than some dumb animals. A life-long criminal who's next heist was to rip the crown from his foe's head without them even noticing.
Despite their differences, each one carried an immense amount of respect for their rival. Sure they argued and bickered, but they were comrades. They were together in this bloody battle against the Aryan Wolves. Every single one of the Rats played their part. They were like bunch of jumbled puzzle pieces. For without one piece, the big picture can never be completed. They needed each other. They balanced each other. They kept each other in check.
Perhaps this is exactly the reason why Manon chose the two as her best men. At times it felt like she had a devil and an angel sitting on her shoulders. Each one whispering their little temptations into her ears at every given moment . This way, Manon always had two options: A man to plow a bloody path of death and revenge. And a man to slink through the shadows of war to gather valuable intel. The best of both worlds.
"You did what you could. You brought him home." A familiar voice spoke. Dax tensed as he felt a hand rest upon his back. He said nothing.
"It's not your fault, you know. Moisey brought it upon himself." Manon kneeled down next to Dax, trying to get his attention. The man continued to have his staring contest floor. "There's no one but himself to blame for his reckless actions." No answer.
"Dax."
"I should've listen to you. I should've taken this more seriously." Dax's low voice finally rumbled. He took the cigarette from his mouth. With a grey cloud escaping his nostrils, he watched as his hands continued to shake.
"What do you mean?" Manon raised a brow.
"I should've been more eager to help. I watched you search the Den for Eugene and the kids for at least an hour before finally agreeing to help. I didn't really care what would happen to him." As the Romanian spoke, he crushed the smoldering cig within his calloused hands. He showed no expression. Manon frowned.
"But you care now. I know you two have never really gotten along, so I didn't expect you to drop everything and search for Eugene." Manon quietly spoke in a reassuring tone. "But you brought him back to us, and that's all that matters. Without you, Eugene and that boy would've died in that tunnel. Cold, wounded, scared, and shrouded by darkness. You saved them from that fate." The woman cleared her throat as she tried to keep herself from choking up. Dax said nothing. He turned his face away from Manon. Tears welled in his eyes.
"Thank you, Dax. You're a hero, you know."
"I sure as hell don't feel like one..."