∞CASSIDY☼
I was shaken awake by Patrick.
"Wake up! We just surrendered! The Japs are coming here to take prisoners!"
For a while everything was yellow. A glaring, blinding yellow. Then I realized it was the afternoon sun, filtering in through the gaps in the hospital's structure. There was a temporary ceasefire three hours ago and I have fallen asleep on the floor. A rock dug into my spine as I turned my head and saw the blanket that covered the previous occupant of Mark's bed.
My sleep hazed brain reached up and tried to make sure that Mark and all his body parts are accounted for. Everything is still yellow and I was still blind as I felt for him on the bed. I managed to hold his hand and I pressed it. He pressed back harder.
"Come on," Patrick urged. "We have to get back to our squad." His voice reminded me of my brother and I tried not to think about Henry and how he's probably worried that I didn't come home from school yesterday and we didn't make it to graduation today.
"Mark," I put my hand on his head and grimaced at how hot he is. "Mark?"
He was squeezing my hand but he's not answering. I looked at Patrick who was a bundle of pent up, barely contained anxiety. His blue gaze flicked intensely all over the room. How old is he? I never knew my grandparents so I didn't know if they had been in the war. "Patrick, we need to get him a shirt."
"On it," he replied, already on to a supply closet before I managed to finish my sentence.
"I'll sit you up. Okay, Mark?" I looked at the burn wound on his shoulder. I was able to cover it properly and kept the jungle insects away. The blood and the humidity attracted them in droves and they were crawling all over his bed. Their long, thin legs trying to climb him and failing. Much like everyone else in high school. If I could still joke then that's one. The wound is looking much better, pink and wet. Again, if I could joke then that's another one. I applied another wet dressing on it before covering it with dry bandage. Patrick came back with the cleanest shirt that he can find, one that only has small traces of brown vomit at the front.
"You got a Tic Tac?" Mark mumbled as he limply tried to put his arm over my shoulder. A weak attempt at the way he led me to the parking lot just two timelines ago. Patrick looked at him funny, not getting what he meant.
"In my locker," I replied. "Not like you need it." I sniffed at his face. Mark smelled like sweat, sun and blood. And maybe some worse things but it's Mark and there's no smell in this world that they can put on him that can make me stay away. "They would still line up for you out there, playboy." I referred to the kissing booth episode at the charity drive, Halloween of junior year.
He shook his head and put it on my shoulder. His hair tickled at the sensitive skin on my neck. I made him drink water, trying not to lean into the sensation too much. He swirled it around his mouth before swallowing. "This is the morphine talking but if I could kiss anyone here I would probably kiss Patrick." Mark reached out a hand to Patrick. "Much obliged, man. McDonell has been on your ass all night and I gotta say, you handled it pretty well. I owe you one. You're my new favorite McDonell."
Patrick shook his hand and put it around his shoulder. "Would love to receive the medal, man. But the Japs are coming. Let's go."
We stood up. Mark wobbled as he stepped forward. Patrick and I had to pull him back so he wouldn't fall flat on his face. "Wow. My legs feel like noodles."
"Okay, just slowly then. It's not a race," we went on slowly, each step a test of strength. I feel like my arm will give way. They are both taller than me so I have to keep up and even it out by trying to stand taller but at the same time not give in to Mark's weight.
