Unfixable

Under-Manned

"Nines! Letter!" Nines looked up from the chart he was holding long enough to acknowledge Markus in the open flap of the tent. The dull feeling remained in his stomach despite the good news. His current patient wasn't doing well. He'd been shot in the gut during their latest assault. They'd barely made it halfway before retreating. They didn't have the men to keep doing this. If the other side got wind of how few reinforcements they had, they'd be overrun in no time. The wounded soldier had been carried back, and Simon had removed the bullet. The problem was the infection that had set in afterwards. Nines had done all he could. He'd changed the bandages regularly, cleaned the wound, and started him on a strain of arsenic. It just didn't seem to be working. Either they'd started treatment too late, or this young man was just completely resistant to their medication. "Any change?" Makus was sympathetic as he appeared at his shoulder and joined him in looking down at the ailing man. Man was an exaggeration. This was a mere boy.

"None for the better." Nines' jaw tightened as he held back from adding that he didn't give him more than two days. His skin was pale and clammy, with dark rings circling his eyes. He seemed dead already but for the rasping breaths and slow rise and fall of his chest. With any luck, he won't wake up again...It would be cruel for him to wake up just to die slowly. Markus squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. It was never easy when patients died, especially when they'd already survived the most difficult phase of surgery. It seemed cruel to get so far and then fall. He's so young, too...

"You should be due a break, right? Go on...Read your letter and get something to eat," Markus insisted sympathetically as he handed over the letter. Nines took it gratefully, suddenly filled with warmth as the crisp paper touched his skin. Chloe's writing was on the outside, but he was quite certain that the letter within would be from Gavin. He gave a weak smile of thanks as he returned the chart to the bed and headed out, leaving Markus to take his place.

Feeling the air on his face felt good, even if it was unpleasantly warm. It smelled less of rot and antiseptic outside, though it lingered on the breeze. Camp was fairly quiet for now. Most able-bodied men were on the front. There were few men to spare for the usual resting periods. They'd likely be out there until a fresh set of recruits was dropped in. New men had been promised. They were expected to arrive sometime that month. The only men around the camp for now were the seriously injured and the tired doctors and nurses.

Nines barely had the energy to eat. He headed for his tent instead. It was a small one. Being of rank, he shared the space with the other ranked doctors. Simon, Markus, and Josh. Josh was currently off duty, dead to the world as he slept off the night shift. He was the only one who worked nights. He preferred it that way. A doctor was always needed on call, and he insisted it was better for him to remain on the same schedule than to work in shifts. They'd agreed since he was happy to do it, but Nines always made it clear that he could ask to change at any time.

Nines was quiet as he crossed to his bunk and kicked off his shoes. He wouldn't eat, but perhaps a short nap would improve his mood. He settled down against the pillow, eyes briefly landing on his small pile of personal items. The scrap of wood Gavin had torn from the enemy barricade, his last letter, and the small ring of bark. He didn't dare even touch the small ring lest it crumble to dust. He smiled as he turned over the envelope and pried the edge up. There was a letter, and something else. Something stiffer than paper. Nines bit his lip as he pulled it out with an eager tug.

He set the folded paper on his chest as he held up the small photograph. Chloe had clearly directed him on how to stand. He was wearing smarter clothes than usual, with a cravat neatly tied at the throat. His hair seemed a little less fluffed than usual. Chloe had likely tidied it with water before taking the picture. He was standing with his right side further back, holding the cane smartly to the ground with his left hand tucked neatly behind his back. Despite it not being customary for portraits, Gavin had failed not to smile. It was small, but there was the slightest rise at the corner of his lips. The picture was all shades of black and grey, so he couldn't see the glinting green of his eyes, but he was sure they were filled with their usual mirth. Chloe had likely made him laugh just as she took the picture.