Unfixable

Shattered Optimism

"Gavin!" He retched, almost sobbing in pain as he leaned over the side of the cot. It was beyond anything he'd ever felt. There was a raw burning in his side and a searing throb in his left leg. He choked and whimpered as he curled over, registering the gentle hand circling his back. He fell into the offered comfort, sobbing as he gasped for breath as he desperately tried to figure out just what the hell had happened. He remembered loud sounds. Explosions. Flying. The light feeling in his stomach. Hot air and dirt throwing him through the air. The blinding pain in his side and leg. Blood. Warmth on his skin. Stickiness. Drowning in mud. Weight pinning him down. Sinking. Then there were firm hands. Familiar touches. A voice. Nines! His green eyes snapped wide, and he looked around, confused to find himself in an actual building. Not a tent. The phck? "There, that's it..." I know that voice...

"Chloe?" He couldn't believe it as he turned his head. He knew Chloe and Elijah were in Europe somewhere, but he'd thought they were helping the British with their recovery program in England. Testing out Elijah's latest prosthetics and developing new aids for wounded soldiers. Chloe smiled in relief as she removed the small metal basin of bile and set it aside. He hadn't seen her for over a year. She looked the same. Maybe a little more tired. Her skin was a little pale. Her crystal blue eyes were red around the edges from lack of sleep. Her blonde hair was pinned back in a bun and covered by a net beneath her little white hat.

"I'm so glad you're alright! We weren't sure you'd make it once the fever took hold." Fever? He didn't remember anything like that. He barely remembered Connor looking down at him, but then everything was a blur of pain and white noise. He didn't remember anything about surgery or recovery or leaving the camp. "You were mostly unconscious, thank god. There were few drugs for pain left where you were, so it's a good thing you passed out when you did..." Chloe continued as she reached out and rested a hand on his head the way she used to. Why is that a good thing? What the phck happened? He winced as he rested a hand on his bound side. He remembered something cutting into his waist. Probably a chunk of shrapnel...

"What the phck happened?" He didn't need to ask why he'd left the front. The pain in his side was enough to tell him this wound would take months to heal. Chloe seemed a little more subdued as she moved to sit on the edge of his bed. She helped as he tried to sit up and reached around to prop his pillows so he could lounge. "Pretty much all I remember is the phcking blast and Nines...Di-did he make it back?" She could tell he was silently dreading the answer, but she could at least set his mind at ease in that regard. All three of the Anderson brothers were alive and well. They'd even put in for international leave so they could visit them once they arrived in England.

"He's fine. It's you I was worried about...You wouldn't have made it without Richard and Connor." Gavin almost snorted. That was the first time he'd heard anyone use Nines' real name. Even the higher-ups had taken to calling him Nines or his rank. It was the same with Sixty. To his knowledge, only Captain Allen ever called him Jacob. If anyone else tried, they'd probably end up with a bullet between the eyes. He had no doubt Chloe was right. Any other medic besides Nines would have thought he was dead already or written him off as a lost cause and grabbed someone else. Someone less injured. Someone who may have been left out there in his place. Phck..."Once you got back to the resting camp, Connor handed you off to Dr Manfred, and we tried to patch you up."

"We?" What the hell was Chloe doing in their camp in the first place? No way had word of the skirmish gotten back to Elijah that fast!

"Yes. Believe it or not, I was only supposed to be checking in. I had no idea an operation had gone ahead. I arrived with the resupply chain and planned on asking around to see how you were before heading back to town. I'd barely arrived when the call went up that injured men were being brought back. You were lucky to get Dr Manfred as your attending physician." Gavin frowned at that. Dr Manfred was the best surgeon they had in the field. He worked on less injured patients sometimes, but he usually took on the really hard cases. No-hopers. The lost causes who probably wouldn't make it with anyone else. He rested a hand on his waist.