Blood Lily Company - Afghanistan, year 1

LVII

We were at our last rounds, literally, we each had one or two rounds left to put in our last magazine, when we heard an Icelandic curse. Then we saw Kris cross the yard at full tilt, followed by Lin and Curly. We got out, too, and came to sickbay just as Doc was screaming: "Erk, stop!"

There was a thud, something heavy falling, and another cry: "Erk!" It was Poll.

I'm an NCO, I pushed the spectators out of my way and slipped into the large six-bed room. Out of the small ICU room, our ex-telepath had been installed in the larger room, away from hearing people.

When I entered he was on his knees, trying to straighten the unconscious Viking on the floor. Kris knelt down, took his brother's head in his hands and turned it slightly to the side. As I got closer, I saw a red mark on the side, just above his temple, at the hairline.
- Crétin! You stupid git! Hálfviti! Dumbass!

Kris was reeling off a litany of insults in several languages, not daring to shake his brother but longing for it, if the way his fists gripped the giant's sweat-soaked tee-shirt was any indication. Nanny left and returned with a bagful of ice cubes, straight from the cold room, wrapped in a tea towel and placed it on Erk's head. Lin grabbed Kris's hands and forcibly pulled them away from the shirt.

Poll, completely shocked, was waving his hands about, and I realized he wanted to say something. I caught his eyes, put my hand on my throat and pretended to speak. He calmed down somewhat, and said, a little loudly, that Erk came to see him, asked him to relax and put his hands on his temples.

After a little while Poll had felt him tremble, felt the Viking's gasping breath on his forehead and opened his eyes to see him collapse, his eyes rolled back. He had tried to hold him back but had been dragged along by the giant's mass and found himself on the floor, his head hitting the unconscious colossus's torso and not the tiled floor, unlike his shock-absorbing human cushion.

Dio, arrived in the meantime, took care of Poll.

Doc, meanwhile, had pulled out her stethoscope and was checking out the Viking, taking his pulse, checking his pupils. Kris was muttering under his breath, promising retribution for Erk.
- Well, that moron...

She ran a hand over her face, collected herself.
- This generous, altruistic and completely stupid Healer wanted to try another time, see if he could Heal Poll. With the results we have here... That stupid idiot gave everything he had to...

She waved her hands, shook her head, shrugged, at a loss for words to express her feelings for the very generous and, indeed, utterly stupid action of our mighty Healer.

Nanny, Kris, Lin and a few others lifted the very stupid mighty Healer and laid him down on a free bed. Cook arrived and tried a little Healing on Erk's head. Because, besides falling, that adorable and benevolent fool had suffered a concussion.

Nanny and Doc hooked the Viking to the monitoring devices, Kris yelled at him in Icelandic even thought he couldn't hear anything then sat down at his bedside, his forehead on his brother's hand, which he held between his.
- You're exhausting me, Eiríkur, at times. I love you, idiot, but I wish you'd stop putting yourself in danger. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you. Please.

That's what I heard, mumbled against the mattress. I put a hand on Kris's shoulder, for comfort, then joined the others in the mess hall, leaving Tito to keep the brothers company. Before I left, I saw him leaning against Kris's back, his hands on his shoulders.

I believe that, that day, as much as we admired the giant's selflessness and his willingness to "save" Poll from his physical and mental deafness, we all found he'd gone too far. Even Poll.