Genesis: the Beginning and the End | Band of Brothers

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ５３ － Ｈｏｓｐｉｔａｌ】

Chapter 53 - Hospital

Much to her chagrin, Margaret Watkins still ended up in a field hospital for about two weeks.

There had been a lot of 'nooo you can't make me' and even more 'it's for your own good, you can't walk properly'. In the end she had to be wrestled into the hospital. But that didn't mean she was done fighting. About ten minutes later she was walking – limping – out of there. The thing was that Doc hadn't left yet. He was outside picking up supplies to take back. And he saw her.

"Watkins, get back in there."

Margaret froze. Slowly turning around, she held her hands up in front of her as if to stop him from coming closer.

"I will not stay there."

The stiff posture wasn't good for her leg and it hurt, but she didn't move. Doc sighed and put down the crate of supplies, in the back of the truck he'd be going back in.

"Well y' gotta. That leg needs a proper cleanin', an' stitchin'. Y' need t'rest. Let your leg heal. Be back in no time. I promise."

She crossed her arms, and looked very uncomfortable.

"There'll be too many questions in there Doc. Too many. An' I can't answer a single one."

The pair just stared at each other for a bit, before Doc sighed again.

"Get back in there or so help me God I'll knock y'out and drag y'in myself." Margaret rolled her eyes at him, but let him lead her inside. It was clear he wasn't going to give in first and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. "I'll stay whilst they stitch y'up, how 'bout that?"

She grumbled but nodded anyway.

And he did stay, and he sat beside her as she laid on her front and had her leg stitched up. He talked to her to try and keep her mind off it. Margaret was grateful.

"Thank you."

"Anytime Watkins."

"Margaret," she corrected and he smiled. Then before he left he told her to call him Gene. So she did.

Then he caught one of the nurses, and told her not to ask too many questions, as the patient was already on edge about being in the field hospital.

Margaret heard that. But she couldn't decide if she was grateful for it or frustrated.

In the next week she tried to leave twice, nearly tore her stitches once, and got into trouble for it each time she did something. They'd be glad to see the back of someone as stubborn as her.

It felt weird to her, having a bed and food she could identify. And she felt almost guilty for having it. The guys didn't get this, as far as she was aware. Maybe they'd been billeted in houses and had beds. Margaret told herself that. It made her feel better, worry less.

The hospital made her nervous.

There were so many questions in the eyes of nurses and doctors and surgeons, in patients.

She was sure they were sick of her within a few days as the only thing she'd really say was asking after Easy, where are they, what are they doing, how are they doing? No one answered. Ever. And she wasn't sure whether or not it was because they didn't know, or didn't want to answer. The not wanting to answer could be split further, not wanting to answer because the answer was bad and they didn't want to upset her or not wanting to answer because they didn't want to help and didn't like her. It probably wasn't that last one.