Chapter 1: Welcome to Korea
Erik did not become a doctor to pick bullets out of children. Unfortunately the US Army had other ideas. And so, thanks to General MacArthur and President Truman, he had been uprooted from his job as a surgeon in Chicago and dumped him in what was affectionately known as hell-on-earth, or to give it it's real name, Uijeongbu, Korea. He'd tried to argue that he was German, he couldn't be drafted by the American Army. But they'd just replied that the US Army was part of the UN Force in Korea, and Germany was part of the UN, so get packing. Less than forty eight hours later he was up to his ankles in mud and up to his elbows in blood.
Erik tore off his bloody scrub shirt and tossed them into the wash-basket, then collapsed onto the bench next to his fellow surgeon Hank McCoy. Hank jerked awake as Erik thumped down next to him.
"How long were we in there?" Hank mumbled.
"Too long," Erik sighed.
"I need a drink," Corporal Alex Summers moaned, stumbling into the changing room.
"That sound like the best idea I've heard all day," Erik replied.
The three friends trudged across the compound to the tent Hank and Erik shared, still half wearing their scrubs but far too tired to care. Erik had never really had friends – Alex joked that he didn't have the personality for it and really, he wasn't wrong – but in a situation like this, where you faced death and destruction every day, you couldn't help but become close to the people around you. Personally Erik felt Hank was a bit too clean cut, All American goody two shoes for his taste, but on his first day at the 4077th they'd ended up working together trying to save a soldier's leg, when the soldier had gone into cardiac arrest. They'd managed to save him, and ensured the soldier would have almost normal use of his leg when he recovered. It had been Hank's quick thinking – and the fact he'd already been here a week and begun to desensitise himself to this place – that had saved the boy. Erik would be forever grateful, and would forgive Hank's tendency to blush scarlet and stutter when nervous. Alex he found a bit more to his liking. The kid was tough and worked hard, and was fighting a losing battle as a man in what was largely considered a woman's profession.
Alex groaned as he threw himself into the old airplane seat by Erik's bunk, closing his eyes and stretching out his long legs as he ruffled a hand through his blonde hair. Hank shuffled through the piles of dirty laundry that littered the floor, and gave the tent its nickname 'The Swamp'. Meanwhile Erik headed straight for his masterpiece; the still he had built from numerous bits and pieces he'd scrounged from around the camp in the days following his arrival. It had only taken him that first shift in OR to realise that alcohol was a necessity to survive this place.
"Here," he said, holding out a martini glass to Alex.
"You are a saint," Alex sighed. Hank snorted from his bunk. Erik shot him a glare. "Maybe not a saint," Alex conceded. "But you deserve a medal at least."
"He has several already," Hank said.
"Really?" Alex asked. "I've never seen them on your Class A's. Although to be fair, I've rarely seen you in your Class A's."
Erik said nothing, ducking around the stove to hand Hank a martini.
"He doesn't wear them," Hank said.
"Why?" Alex sipped his martini.
"I don't need a medal for getting my butt out in one piece," Erik muttered.
Silence fell on the three draftees, each sipping his own martini, reminded that many were not so lucky as they were. They might be only five miles from the front, but compared to the boys up there, or even the doctors at Battalion Aid, they had it easy.
"I wonder what Darwin's doing now," Alex said, breaking the silence.
"Probably sitting at home, or at work. Definitely not spending sixteen hours picking metal out of a river of bodies," Hank replied.
Erik said nothing, glancing towards the bunk in the corner which, until recently, had been occupied by Captain Armando 'Darwin' Munoz; another surgeon who made up the final part of their quartet, who had been sent home two days ago. Erik had returned from leave and found Darwin gone. It had been a bitter pill. He and Darwin had been close, and now he was gone without even so much as a goodbye.
The door of the Swamp banged open and Corporal Sean Cassidy, red haired and wide eyed, ran in to the tent.
"You guys gotta hide me!" he exclaimed.
"What's wrong?" Hank asked.
"The mail just arrived," Sean explained.
"I get anything?" Alex asked, reaching for the mail bag.
Sean swatted him away.
"Dude! I've got a big problem!"
"What is it Banshee?" Erik asked.
"So, um, this arrived for Major Shaw," Sean said, holding up an official looking envelope.
Erik's mouth turned downward with distaste. Major Sebastian Shaw was, until recently, the fourth Swamp-rat along with Erik, Hank and Darwin, and until recently the second in command. He had been promoted to commanding officer when Lieutenant Commander McCone had been discharged a few weeks before Darwin. Erik's heart clenched. McCone's plane had been shot down over the sea of Japan with no survivors. He'd been a good man, and a good leader. He hadn't deserved to die that way. Erik had respected him. He didn't respect Shaw. His and Shaw's animosity had been almost instantaneous, fuelled further when Erik had been appointed Chief Surgeon over Shaw, despite being only a Captain to his Major.
"What is it?" Hank frowned.
Sean glanced around nervously. Erik, Hank and Alex copied his actions, then all moved closer. Sean carefully opened the envelope and showed them the orders.
"We're getting a new commander?" Alex yelped.
"Shh! Keep it down!" Sean hissed. "What do I do? I have to show him, but if I show him, he'll hit me! You have to help me."
"We'll come with you Sean," Hank offered.
"Yeah. If Erik's there, he'll naturally draw Shaw's fire," Alex grinned.
Erik threw a pair of rolled up dirty socks at him, smirking as they bounced off of Alex's head. Sean looked up hopefully.
"You'd do that?"
"Of course," Hank nodded.
The three of them bundled Sean out of the tent, the younger man dragging his feet, and pushed him towards the mess tent. They found Shaw sitting, of course, with Major Emma Frost - "Frost by name, Frost by nature," the men of the camp like to say. Frost was the head nurse; a blonde bombshell who could freeze an admirer just by looking at them. Rumour had it that the 'White Queen' refused to entertain anyone lower than a major. And her latest conquest was none other than Major Sebastian Shaw – despite the fact that Shaw had a wife and children at home.
"I don't think I can do this," Sean muttered.
Erik rolled his eyes. His palm met Sean's shoulder blades and he shoved him forward.
"Ah, Cassidy," Shaw said. "Any mail for me?"
Sean did a prize impression of a fish for a few seconds, earning a snicker from Alex and yet another eyes roll from Erik. Shaw noticed the two surgeons and the nurse for the first time.
"Lehnsherr," he said coldly.
"Shaw," Erik smirked.
"Still in your scrubs? It's a disgrace," Shaw sniffed.
"I try."
"Your veterinarian practise is having a charity fun day," Sean blurted, handing over the postcard. "Er, two weeks ago..." Shaw did not look impressed. "And you got this letter from your wife!" Sean babbled.
Erik smirked as Shaw shoved the letter into his pocket, glancing nervously at Emma whose face looked like thunder.
"What about that one?" Shaw frowned. "That looks like it came from I-Corps."
"That?" Sean squeaked. "Oh, that's... That's... You're being replaced!"
Shaw and Emma stared at him. Erik, Hank and Alex exchanged glances, waiting in anticipation.
"Five bucks says he cries," Alex muttered.
"What?" Emma said eventually.
She snatched the envelope from Sean's trembling hand, ripping it open with one perfectly manicured hand (Seriously, how did she keep her nails so perfect? Most days they struggled for soap around here, let alone nail polish). Her mouth dropped as she read the orders. Sean took advantage of their distraction to shuffle back until he bumped into Erik.
"Colonel Logan Howlett... Assigned to the command... MASH 4077th... Effective immediately," she read. "I don't believe it!" she exclaimed, turning to Shaw.
All eyes were on their – now temporary – commander for his reaction. Sure enough, Shaw's eyes looked a little glassy, but Erik thought it was worth losing the five bucks just to see Shaw cry. Besides, he'd only lose it at poker otherwise. At least this way he got something in return. But Shaw lifted his chin and turned to Sean.
"Cassidy," he said. Sean shrank against Erik's chest. "I'll need you to prepare the paperwork, and move my belongings out of the office and back to my previous quarters."
"Aw, crap," Hank muttered.
"Gentlemen, I need to prepare for the change of command," Shaw forced a humourless smile and strolled out of the mess tent, a speechless Emma on his heels.
The four men stared after them. Then Erik held out a hand.
"Pay up Summers."
XXX
"Dude! Guess what?" Sean grinned bouncing up to Erik.
Erik frowned at him. Sean was far too loud for his liking. He preferred him the way he was that morning: terrified and trembling. And silent. Silent was good.
"What Banshee?"
"I just spoke to Darwin!"
Erik jerked to a halt, his hand colliding with Sean's chest.
"What? How? Isn't it tomorrow or yesterday or something back in the States?"
"Ah!" Sean cried. "He's not in the States. Not yet anyway."
"What are you talking about?"
"His plane got delayed," Sean shrugged. "I called Kimpo cause his replacement's flying in in an hour, so I gotta go pick him up. They mentioned Darwin was still hanging around there, so they let me chat to him for a minute. He's flying out in an hour."
Erik grabbed Sean's wrist, twisting it so he could read Sean's watch. He'd lost his own in a poker game last week. Divisional psychiatrist Major Jean Grey had one hell of a poker face.
"Hey!" Sean objected.
"I'm coming with you to Kimpo," Erik announced.
"What? No way!" Sean shook his head. "Shaw'll flip, and what about Howlett? He might be here by the time we get back."
"I want to see Darwin. I want my goodbye," Erik insisted. "Let's go. I'll drive."
"You have to get permission!" Sean argued.
"Banshee, the quicker we go, they quicker we get back, and the less painful it is for you. Because otherwise Shaw will make your life a misery, Howlett will make your life a misery, and I'll remove your tonsils."
"I already had my tonsils out."
"So?"
Sean gulped.
"Fine," he sighed. "But I don't like it."
"I don't care," Erik retorted.
Sean squealed like a girl as Erik sped down the road. Which was bad enough, except for the fact that Sean's shrieks could shatter glass. A fact proven after far, far too many beers in the officer's club one night. The road was potholed to the extreme, making the jeep rattle and bounce and Erik and Sean fly off their seat every time. But Erik refused to slow down, determined to make it in time to say good bye to Darwin – and to yell at the man for not leaving so much as a note.
Finally they skidded into the compound of Kimpo Airbase.
"I'm going to find Darwin," Erik called, already out of the jeep and rushing towards the departures.
"I'll find Xavier, don't be long!" Sean yelled.
Erik burst into departures, but found it deserted except for a Sergeant on the phone with a tower of what looked and smelled like cheese in front of him. Erik quickly scanned the room, just incase there was anywhere Darwin could be hiding. Nothing. He turned to the desk sergeant, glowering at the man, until he covered the mouthpiece of the phone.
"Hold on. What is it?" the sergeant asked.
"The flight to Honolulu, the one with Captain Munoz, has it gone?" Erik snapped.
"Uh..." the sergeant grabbed a flight manifest. "Munoz, right? Left ten minutes ago."
And he returned to his phone conversation.
Ten minutes.
Ten lousy minutes.
Erik swore in German. He knew he couldn't have driven any faster, if he had he might've killed both himself and Sean. They would've at least been fatally injured, and considering he was the best surgeon in Korea, there was no hope for them. With a heavy heart, he turned away and headed back to the jeep.
Erik leaned his hands against the jeep and hung his head. At least Alex and Hank wouldn't kill him for seeing Darwin when they couldn't. Although Shaw and the unknown Howlett may still yet kill him and it had all been in vain. Angrily he booted the jeep's tyre. He couldn't take his frustration with them out on the army, but he could do it to one of their jeeps.
"Erik?" Sean's voice called him back to reality.
Erik looked round and found Sean looking hopefully at him.
"Ten minutes," he replied.
"Damn..."
"Anything I can help with?"
The voice was English, upper crust English by the sounds of it. For the first time Erik took notice of the figure in Class A uniform behind Sean. The man was shorted than both Erik and Sean, brown hair immaculately in place and bright blue eyes. Most of all he was clean, from his crisp trousers that still had their crease after hours on a plane to his shining black boots free of mud and dirt and blood.
"Not unless you can turn back time," Erik retorted with no real bite to his words. He may have been a moody bastard, but he wasn't completely cruel. It wasn't this stranger's fault he'd missed Darwin.
"Oh, Erik, this is Captain Charles Xavier," Sean introduced.
Captain Xavier held out his hand, and Erik shook it.
"Erik Lehnsherr."
"Is there a rank to go with that?" Xavier asked, his eyes twinkling in such a way that Erik suspected he was teasing, his hand indicating to Erik's empty collar.
"He's a captain. But he never wears his bars," Sean explained.
"Really? Why?" Xavier frowned.
"They clash with my eyes," Erik deadpanned.
Xavier chuckled, and Erik couldn't help it when his lips quirked up slightly at the corners. The man had an infectious laugh. Sean seemed to take it as a sign that Erik wasn't going to disembowel him, and swung Xavier's suitcase into the back of the jeep before jumping into the driver's seat.
"Move," Erik ordered.
"Oh no!" Sean shook his head. "You back right off! I let you drive here cause of Darwin, no way am I risking my life like that twice in one day."
"So what's the 4077th like?" Xavier shouted, leaning forward to make himself heard over the wind as they sped through the countryside.
"Meatball surgery," Erik explained. "We work fast and hard. It isn't pretty, but we save lives."
"What's the survival rate like?"
"Ninety eight percent," Erik replied proudly.
Xavier's eyebrows shot up.
"So I guess that answers my next question; what is the staff like?"
"Best group of people you'll ever work with. Eyes on the road Banshee," Erik snapped when Sean stared at him in surprise.
"Banshee?" Xavier chuckled.
"You'll soon understand. The nurses are the best at their job. You'll never work with better."
"And the surgeons?"
"There's me, and Hank McCoy. Hank's great. We also had Darwin and McCone until recently."
"What happened to them?" Xavier asked.
"Darwin's headed home. McCone never made it," Erik said.
"He was a good man," Sean murmured.
Erik squeezed the kid's shoulder. Sean had been McCone's number two since they arrived here; he'd felt the loss more than anyone – with the possible exception of Moira MacTaggart.
"Is that it?" Xavier asked gently, not wanting to intrude on their grief. Erik and Sean exchanged a smirk. "Am I missing something?" Xavier frowned.
"No. There's Major Sebastian Shaw," Erik said. "Rumour has it he bombed out of embalmer's school."
Xavier snorted.
"That good, huh?"
"Walking disaster zone with a scalpel," Erik confirmed. "What's your background?"
"Oxford," Xavier explained. "Specialised in genetics, but I've worked mostly in general surgery since graduation. You?"
"Chicago," Erik replied.
"And how long have you been here?"
"Too long."
"Uh, Erik?" Sean called. "Look."
Erik frowned, turning away from Xavier to follow Sean's nod. His heart sank. Up ahead, scattered across the ground, were a group of soldiers, several of whom were wounded.
"Scheisse!" he swore. "Pull over."
Erik grabbed the medical bag from under his seat, and had already vaulted out of the jeep by the time Sean pulled it to a stop.
"I'm a doctor," he called. "Who's hurt?"
"Over here!" a private called, crouching over his buddy.
Erik ran to his side, sliding onto his knees, not caring about the mud. He inhaled sharply at the gaping bullet hole in the belly of the wounded man.
"That bad, huh?" his patient croaked.
"I've seen worse," Erik shrugged casually.
"Don't lie to me doc."
Unfortunately Erik wasn't lying. However, that didn't mean that the prognosis was good. On the contrary, it was probably very, very bad.
"Sean!" Erik barked. "Call for a chopper!"
Sean nodded, diving into the back of the jeep for the radio. Erik noticed that Xavier had climbed out of the jeep with a second medkit and was approaching a body. Finishing tying the tourniquet on the belly wound, Erik jumped up and jogged to Xavier's side, just as the man leaned over and hurled. Erik's mouth set in a grim line. He'd noticed the body on their arrival, but made no move towards it. He'd seen the fact that not all of the soldier was there.
"Welcome to Korea," he said, slapping Xavier's shoulder.
Xavier managed a humourless chuckle.
"Thank you my friend."
"You okay Xavier?" Erik asked brusquely. There were other wounded whom they could help. He didn't want to spend his time babying the new boy, even if he did kind of like the man. Xavier nodded.
"I'll be fine," he insisted. "And it's Charles."
Erik clapped him on the shoulder again, and moved to another patient. He glanced up occasionally to check on Xavier, no, Charles, and felt a flicker of pride to find the man looking determined if still a little sick, but treating the soldier's wounds regardless.
"Talk about a baptism of fire," Charles sighed once they were back on the road. His once pristine Class A uniform was now creased and stained with blood and mud.
"You'll get used to it," Erik shrugged.
Sadly, they all did.
XXX
"Home sweet home," Sean announced as they drew into the compound.
"Shut up Banshee," Erik snapped, with his customary eye roll. He turned to Charles. "Come on, I'll show you to our tent."
"Our?" Charles echoed, climbing stiffly out of the jeep.
"You'll be in with me, Hank and Shaw," Erik explained. "Don't worry, I don't snore. Shaw on the other hand... Welcome to the Swamp," he declared
"The Swamp?" Charles frowned, following Erik into the tent. Then he spotted the piles of laundry, abandoned dirty magazines, and the layer of dirt that covered, well, everything. "Ah, the Swamp. I see."
Hank rushed up to them, pausing to stick his finger in Erik's face.
"I'm on post op in five," he blurted. "Shaw's looking for you, and he's pissed."
"So what's new?" Erik grunted, throwing himself down onto his cot.
"Hello, Charles Xavier," Charles smiled, offering his hand.
Hank shook it hastily.
"Hank McCoy. I gotta go. Hey Erik?"
Erik grunted.
"Did you make it?" Hank asked softly.
"Ten minutes," Erik snapped gruffly.
Hank's face fell.
"I'll see you later," he said, running out the door.
"You're over there," Erik said, pointing to the cot in the back corner.
"Thank you," Charles nodded.
He paused beside the still, eyebrows quirking upwards. Pointing at the still, he turned questioningly to Erik.
"Help yourself," Erik shrugged. "Trust me, you'll need it."
"Thank you. I think," Charles replied.
Erik closed his eyes, and allowed the sounds of his new bunkmate unpacking to help him drift off to sleep.
XXX
"Attention, by order of the Commanding Officer, all officers to the Commanding Officer's office, sirs," Sean's voice echoed through the PA system, rudely waking Erik from his sleep.
He groaned, rolling over and searching blindly for his boots. Opening his eyes a little, he saw Charles passed out on his own bunk. When he failed to find his boots, his hand instead wrapping around the dirty socks he'd thrown at Alex the morning before, Erik tossed them at Charles, smirking a little when he jumped.
"Wassup?" Charles muttered.
Erik couldn't reply immediately. He was far too distracted by the way Charles' hair was mussed and how his blue eyes blinked blearily. He shook himself. Time and a place, Lehnsherr.
"Sounds like our new commander in chief is here," Erik replied. "Get up."
"I'm up," Charles mumbled, still sitting on the edge of his cot.
"You don't look like it."
"I'm up," Charles repeated, standing unsteadily. Erik snorted. "May I remind you my friend, that just this morning, or was it yesterday, I was in America. I'm jet-lagged."
They trudged across the compound and into Sean's office, where the company clerk himself was hovering nervously.
"So what's he like?" Erik murmured.
"Uh... Scary. Definitely scary," Sean replied. "He's the kind of guy to do spot inspections whenever he feels like it. What if he finds my-" Sean shot Charles a nervous glance. "-stuff?"
"Weed," Erik supplied for Charles' benefit. "Then poker nights are going to be a lot less interesting. And surgically?"
"He was on desk work in Tokyo."
Erik and Charles exchanged a glance. This was not good. Who knew how long it had been since the man had been in an operating theatre? Erik may have still been worried about Charles, but at least he'd been working in general surgery before his arrival in Korea.
"Before the war?" Erik pressed.
"Army. He's a military guy."
Erik bit back a groan. Great. This unit would not work well under a military man – Shaw was proof of that (Erik still maintained he had nothing to do with the snake that had ended up in Shaw's cot after he made callisthenics compulsory. He did not however deny knowledge of Sean and Alex putting it there). McCone had been strict, but he knew their strengths and weaknesses, and was willing to bend the rules so long as they got the job done. Which they did, ninety eight percent of the time. With a barely concealed growl, he led the way into the CO's office.
Erik knew – and liked – that he was an intimidating guy. The permanently fixed glare tended to put people off, not to mention the fact that he made no effort to hide the fact that not only could he put people back together, he also knew several very effective ways of taking them apart too. But the man sitting behind the desk in the CO's office would give Erik a run for his money on the scary scale. His hair stuck up wildly, thick sideburns on either side of his face, and a cigar clamped between his teeth. He was not the buttoned down army man Erik had expected to see; his shirt was half open, revealing a white vest. With a glance at Charles, Erik confirmed that the other man was just as speechless as him.
He didn't look up when they entered, continuing to flick through the files before him, until Erik and Charles were joined by Hank and Emma.
"McCoy," Howlett barked.
"Yes sir," Hank replied, standing to attention.
"You're good. Frost."
"Sir."
Erik raised an eyebrow as Emma's not unimpressive chest stuck out even further as she threw a salute. He bit back a smirk when Howlett looked unimpressed.
"Ten years spotless record," he read. He threw Emma suspicious glance. "Impressive," he added, in a tone that suggested he thought otherwise. Was it possible that their new commander had seen straight through Emma's trick to keep her record clear? With half of the Generals in the Army under her thrall, it was easy to see why.
"Shaw."
"Not here sir," Frost replied, studiously avoiding Erik's curious look.
"Xavier."
"Yes sir," Charles replied.
"You new?"
"Just arrived yesterday sir."
Howlett grunted.
"Lehnsherr."
Erik gazed at him, arms crossed, making no move to stand to attention. Howlett stared at him for a long moment, then turned back to his file.
"Says here you threw a scalpel at a German officer," Howlett read.
Erik shrugged.
"I was drunk?"
"You arranged a rat race? With actual rats? And... cockroaches as riders?"
"It was mardi gras," Erik explained.
"Uh huh," Howlett didn't look convinced. "Well, you lot are certainly gonna keep things interesting, I'll give you that. I'd appreciate you not fucking around too much. Dismissed."
Hank hurried off back to Post-Op, but Erik threw Charles a significant glance and hurried after Emma.
"Where's Shaw?" he asked, grabbing her arm.
"Let go Lehnsherr," she retorted.
"Where is he?"
Emma shook her arm free, then looked between Charles and Erik. With a sigh she beckoned to them with her head, and led them to one side. Charles and Erik glanced at each other curiously.
"You promise you won't tell anyone?" she narrowed her eyes.
Erik shrugged. Charles nodded.
"We promise."
Emma glanced around once more then leaned forward.
"He left."
"What?" Erik exclaimed in delight.
"Keep it down!" Emma hissed.
"He ran away?" Charles grinned.
"He was so upset that they took the command away from him. Which was completely unfair and unjustified-"
"Save us the party speech Emma," Erik interrupted. "Where did he go?"
"I don't know!" Emma pouted, all but stamping her foot. "And if you tell anyone Lehnsherr, I'll make sure the whole camp knows about the time you ran around camp in only a cape."
"Halloween?" Charles asked.
"Unfortunately not," Erik muttered.
Emma gave them a triumphant smirk, tossed her hair, and stormed off. Still, despite her threat, Erik couldn't help but chuckle. Shaw had run away, like a child with a temper tantrum. He wouldn't let the man forget this for a very long time.
XXX
"What is this?" Charles asked, staring down at the slop the cook had ladled onto his metal tray. Erik raised his own tray and sniffed.
"Liver," he replied. "Or possibly fish."
Charles didn't look reassured. He filled a mug of coffee, balancing his tray in one hand, and took a sip. He grimaced.
"What I would give for a decent cup of tea," he sighed.
"You'll have a long wait," Erik said, leading the way to the table where Hank and Alex were eating.
"Long wait for what?" Alex asked.
"Tea," Charles explained.
Alex snorted.
"You'll be lucky."
"Any sign of Shaw yet?" Hank asked.
Although Erik and Charles had kept the knowledge of Shaw's disappearing act to themselves, the rest of the camp couldn't fail to notice he wasn't here. Howlett hadn't mentioned the absence of his second in command yet, but then again, the man did little more than grunt. Something Sean's constant look of terror could attest to. Not to mention the fact that Sean hadn't had a joint in forty eight hours, out of terror that Howlett would skin him alive.
"Attention all personnel," the PA system boomed, crackling into life. "Incoming wounded. Bring your dancing shoes people, it's going to be a long night."
Erik was already on his feet, food abandoned, and out of the door. He jumped onto the foot board of a passing ambulance, clinging to the wing mirror as it raced up to the helipad, leaping off and already ducking under the chopper blades before the ambulance comes to a stop. He yanked the plastic shield off of the first casualty, and then Alex was at there, helping him lift the stretcher clear and placing it on the back of a jeep. Erik quickly studied the patient's injuries.
"Multiple belly wounds, he's first," he shouted to the driver, who nodded and took off.
Erik returned to the helicopter with Alex, removing the second stretcher and trying to to inhale too much dust as the helicopter took off again, moving out of the way so a second could take its place. Erik lifted the hastily applied bandage from the soldier's chest and inhaled sharply. He turned to Alex.
"I'm taking him now, finish here and I'll see you inside."
Alex nodded, already on his way to the chopper. Erik banged the side of the ambulance, letting the driver know he was ready to go, clinging on for dear life as they sped back down to the compound.
"Prep him immediately," Erik ordered. "Raven!" he hollered.
"What?" the blonde nurse shouted.
"Scrub up!"
She nodded and ran after him. They split off, she to the nurses changing room, he to the doctors, both yanking on white cotton scrubs and meeting again in the scrub room.
"How bad?" Raven asked.
Erik flicked the tap on and grabbed a bar of soap, rubbing it across his forearms until they were covered with a layer of bubbles.
"Chest wound, multiple shrapnel fragments, scarring on the heart," he reeled off.
Raven nodded, holding out a towel for him as he flicked the tap off with his elbow. Then she slipped on his gown, tying it behind his neck, and snapped a pair of latex gloves onto his hands.
"By the way," he continued. "Are you free-"
"No," she cut him off. "I've been down that road before Erik, I have no desire to see it again."
"We had fun," Erik grinned, bending his knees to let her tie the mask around his neck.
"We did," Raven admitted. "But the answer's still no."
"Spoilsport," he smirked. "If you change your mind..."
"Erik, I have a fiancé!"
"Ah yes, the Russian wunderkind."
"His name's Azazel," Raven retorted.
"Of course. Tell me, have you told wunderkind about young Doctor McCoy?"
"Hank?" Raven frowned. "Why would I have to tell Azazel about Hank?"
"If I was your fiancé, I'd want to know about Hank. Considering he's been in love with you since the moment you met. Which is impressive, considering you had your legs wrapped around my neck at the time. That's devotion."
"Hank's just a friend," Raven insisted.
"Of course. Although, weren't you engaged to someone else when we met?"
"You're really a bastard sometimes, you know that?"
For Erik, surgery was like a dance. Clamp, suction, suture. He knew all the steps without having to think about them. Which was a very good thing, as here he sometimes operated in his sleep. Not the best of practises, but it was that or leaving patients to die. And that was something he would never do. He'd earned a reputation as a surgeon willing to push himself harder and further than anyone else, operating even when he could no longer stand. He was the last to take a break and the first to return if he did. And without Shaw there, the OR ran a lot smoother, with a lot less angry exchanges. Although Erik had to admit, he did miss being able to insult his fellow surgeon. Besides, he had two new surgeons to worry about today.
Howlett was his main concern, since the man had been working administration for God only knew how long. Erik had had a quick word with Alex and ordered him to keep an eye on the man. The blond nodded, and made sure he was assigned to Howlett's table.
"How's he doing?" Erik murmured, ripping off his gloves as he finished with one patient, the corpsmen already wheeling in a table with a new one.
"He's pretty good," Alex replied, taking a new pair of gloves for himself.
Then there was Charles. Erik wasn't worried about his surgical skills, more about how he would deal with the level of the injuries. Erik had been specialising in trauma for six months before his arrival, and he'd still frozen like a schoolgirl on his first surgical shift. So he kept an eye on the table where Charles and Emma were operating, glancing up whenever he could spare an eye. However Charles seemed to be holding his own, and Emma, for all her faults, was a damn good nurse. She wouldn't let him fall.
"I'm done," Hank announced. Sean and a corpsman scurried forward and began wheeling the patient towards post op. "Are there anymore out there?"
Sean shook his head.
"All done," he replied.
"Danke Gott..." Erik muttered, rolling his neck. "I'm done too."
"Same here," Charles sighed at the table behind him. With a groan he reached towards the roof, stretching out the kinks in his back. Erik's eyes were drawn to him as he did so, and he was rewarded with the knowledge that despite Charles' small figure, he was not as weak as he may appear. Charles placed his arm around Erik's shoulder. "Well that was certainly an experience I won't forget in a hurry," he said as they strolled towards the changing room.
"You did fine," Erik replied, before wondering why he was being so nice to Charles. He certainly was never that nice to any of the other new doctors or nurses. Usually he just grunted and glowered. But for some reason he felt the need to be nice to Charles. Probably because Charles was so damn nice. It was the puppy dog eyes. Erik could no more be truly cruel to him than he could ignore the camp mutt when he begged for scraps.
Charles removed his arm from Erik's shoulder to pull off his scrubs, tossing them into the laundry basket and shrugging on his shirt. Erik collapsed onto the bench, tugging off his boots to remove the scrubs covering his trousers. The door from surgery banged open and Howlett trudged in, yanking off his cap and throwing it onto the floor.
"Long time since I've done a shift like that," he muttered, slumping against the wall. "Never get used to it."
"You sound like you've done this before," Erik said.
"I was in WW2," Howlett grunted. "France, then Germany after the liberation, then I was at Auschwitz."
Erik and Charles looked up sharply, both for different reasons.
"I bet that was harrowing work," Charles said.
"Makes you wonder about what depths human depravity can sink to," Howlett shook his head. "Hard to forget."
"I know," Erik nodded.
Two sets of eyes turned to him in confusion. Erik turned over his left arm, revealing the numbers inked into the skin. 214784. Charles' eyes widened in horror, while Howlett's softened with understanding.
"I could use a belt," Howlett said.
Erik grinned.
"I know just the place."
XXX
"You know, this rot-gut isn't bad," Logan declared.
Charles and Erik had dragged him back to the Swamp and Erik had instantly mixed them all martinis from the still. They had the place to themselves; Hank was clearly elsewhere, probably at the Officer's Club with Alex and Sean, and Shaw was yet to return from his temper tantrum.
"It's the ageing process," Erik replied. "We leave it a full twenty minutes."
"Not to mention the pair of old underwear I saw in there earlier," Charles added.
Erik shrugged, and held out the beaker of gin. Charles and Logan held out their glasses for a refill.
"Tell me, why does Cassidy keep jumping and looking at me like I'm gonna kill him every time I go into his office?" Logan asked, pulling a cigar from his shirt pocket. "You boys want one?"
The two captains shook their heads.
"He thinks you're going to confiscate his weed," Erik replied, retaking his seat on his bunk.
Logan snorted.
"Kid wants to destroy his brain, I ain't gonna stop him. So how long should I wait till I report Shaw AWOL?"
Charles choked on his martini.
"How did you know?" he asked.
"I ain't blind," Logan smirked.
"I only met the man once," Charles shrugged. "Erik knows him better."
"He's just sulking," Erik said. "He tried to court martial me after I was appointed chief surgeon over him. He doesn't like losing."
"Then him and me are gonna have a lot of fun," Logan grinned. "He's gonna be a pain in my ass, isn't he? Mind you, I get the feeling you're going to be a pain in my ass too," he added, narrowing his eyes in Erik's direction.
"I'm a pain in everyone's ass," Erik shrugged, gulping down the last of his martini. "Don't expect special treatment."
XXX
At breakfast, Alex aimed a kick at Erik, accidentally catching both him and Charles.
"Ouch!" Charles jumped.
"Watch it Summers," Erik growled.
"What was that for?" Charles complained.
"Look!" Alex said, nodding to the other side of the mess rent, elbowing Hank and Sean to catch their attention too.
"Ah, the wanderer returns," Charles said softly.
It was Shaw, looking none the worse for wear, sitting as usual with Emma Frost. Emma looked torn between being angry and Shaw for leaving her, and wanting to fuss over him to make sure he was okay. Which was amusing, as usually she was not the kind of person to fuss over anyone. It was the emotional detachment that made her an excellent army nurse, but terrible at relationships.
Logan dropped down into the seat at the end of the table, making Alex, Hank and Sean jump, gulping from his coffee mug.
"That rot-gut packs a punch the next day too," he said in lieu of greeting. "It's not bad. Whatcha staring at?"
"Our returned second in command," Charles replied.
Logan snorted.
"Yeah, turned up at my office this morning 'reporting for duty'. Didn't look too pleased when I told him he was supposed to be reporting yesterday."
"I wish I could've seen that," Erik said.
"Are the eggs always this shit here?" Logan asked, poking the grey-yellow mush suspiciously.
"No, actually, today they're pretty good," Hank shrugged.
"Then pass the ketchup," Logan ordered.
Charles and Erik scraped their trays over the trash cans and threw them onto the pile, before heading towards Post-Op to check on their patients. They were halfway across the compound, when the PA system let out a piercing whine, then, "Attention all personnel, incoming wounded!"
"You don't give a chap a chance to settle in, do you?" Charles asked as he and Erik raced towards the first ambulance drawing up outside Pre-Op.
Erik grinned like a shark.
"Welcome to Korea."