Chapter 3-
It kills me not to know this but I've all but just forgotten, What the color of her eyes were and her scars or how she got them, As the telling signs of age rain down a single tear is dropping, Through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten
-Savior, Rise Against
Disclaimer: I don't
own anything lyrics or characters
Based off of the mini-series no
disrespect meant to the real men or actors
"Hey Doc, did you hear about Spears' run?" Heffron stood next to Doc Roe who was going through his supplies. He glanced at up at Heffron and gave him a nod. He knew that it was probably rude to walk away without talking but he didn't have the time to speak about Speirs and his reckless if not courageous behavior.
Gene can feel himself pulling away from Heffron, mentally if not physically. Maybe it's the voice in his head reminding him that Medics never got close to those they were supposed to save. Also, usually they were avoided out of respect or fear, Gene wasn't sure. Oh, there were a few friendly ones out in the company that throughout their entire war experience together hadn't shied away (Webster, Nixon, Luz, Powers) but most, they were courteous to him and were never rude but they were distant, as though talking to him, touching him would jinx his ability to save them.
He was also naturally shy, so the mix of people avoiding him and his inability to go after them made him remote from others. It wasn't intentional but he had a feeling the others didn't understand that. Now here was Heffron, still standing there waiting for him to speak and he glanced over. He really didn't have time to talk to him but there was a look in his eyes that Gene had a notion that Heffron wouldn't leave unless he did so. Instead of making polite conversation, he glanced down at Heffron's hand.
"Hand okay?" was all he said, and he saw silent acceptance in Heffron's eyes as though he understood that was all he was going to get out of the doctor on that occasion.
"Yeah," Heffron murmured, "Hands great,"
When he left, Gene felt a bit bad and a bit relieved. He turned back to his work but it was too late. Already his mind was lost, lost in the memories of home, Renee and then there's one of Webster which surprises him. Webster's intelligent, a college student and while the others tease him without mercy about it, Gene respects him because of it. Webster isn't cut out for war, it was obvious from the beginning on D-Day but that doesn't mean he isn't cut out for hard work.
It's easier to think about Webster than home. He didn't know Webster before the war, before this isolation so it doesn't bother him so much. What does bother him is remembering Webster's wound and he knew the others wouldn't forgive him if he came back. But Gene couldn't blame Webster for shying away because secretly he would have done the same. Or maybe not, but he knew there was another part about why Webster didn't' come back that the others wouldn't listen for, look for and that made Gene certain he would have to if only out of respect.
He finishes his work, lost in thoughts of Webster, war and a little bit of the warmth of his home…
Babe didn't like the way that Doc had offered him a half ass excuse of a conversation. He didn't' like the way Doc had moved away and the far away look in his eyes became even more apparent. He shouldn't still be isolated but he'd noticed the way the men had moved away from him and it had started him. Somehow it had been lost on him before but now it was obvious. Oh there were some who didn't, but others they seemed to avoid him and that made him furious. There was no reason, none at all for them to avoid the medic who did his damned hardest to save them, even the ones not wounded.
He wondered how he could get the medic to talk again. He wanted to ask more about Renee, the pretty nurse (he was just guessing she was pretty). He wanted to ask if she meant a lot to him, if that was why Doc was so distant, if by losing Renee he'd lost a part of himself. Somehow though, in the midst of thinking all of this, Heffron remembered something his mother had told him. That if you pulled someone fast and hard away from the edge, it would end up pushing them over. Maybe that was the problem, Doc was balanced on the edge and no one was pulling him back, but neither were they pushing him forward.
Not liking these thoughts, he looked around to see if there was someone to talk to when his eyes landed on Luz. It was late, and no one besides Doc was really doing anything so Heffron headed over. He sat down near where Luz was positioned and the other man looked at him, giving him an amused look.
"Bored, Heffron? Most of the men are over in the church," Luz looked straight at him and Heffron shrugged.
"So I've heard. Why aren't you over there?" he asked, inquiring gently what Luz was doing sitting outside. He figured Luz would be in the middle of the others, talking quietly with someone. He didn't assume that Luz would be making a joke because lately Luz had looked a bit…down.
"Been sitting with Lip who sent me out to take a smoke, he's sick," Luz answered calmly looking out over the distance. Heffron fell silent because he had a feeling that Luz needed not to talk but to just sit.
He didn't assume to know any of these men well, not on a personal level. Well, not on the average personal level because he supposed that they all knew each other personally. He didn't assume to understand their minds or how they worked or why they said the things they said. He liked the idea though, that they were close enough not to need the usual stuff close enough to understand what they needed from each other in a basic level.
That's when he catches sight of Doc, walking slowly towards the Church. He has a feeling he's going to check up on Lipton if he wasn't feeling well. Doc seemed to hear, instantly when people weren't well even without the call for Medic. He could see weariness in his eyes and Heffron felt a twinge of sympathy. Being medic was probably harder on him than being a regular soldier.
"Heffron," Doc's voice is weary as he gives him a polite nod. Babe keeps walking with him, towards the Church without thinking about it. He knows now is probably a bad time, but he had an idea of a question for him, anything to get Doc to keep talking. Maybe if he keeps talking, he'll pull himself away from the edge.
"Was Renee pretty?" he asks and Doc stops in his tracks to look at him, gentle eyes surprised and a hint of pain in them. Babe feels bad, instantly (he seems to be doing that a lot) but he remembers that when people are in pain, its better to get it all out even if it takes time.
"She was beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes seem to lose focus but not in a crazy sort of way, more in the way someone does when they're looking back on a fond memory, or a painful one (as there it was, that damned ache along the affection), "She had healers hands, as well," he seems to add that as an after thought.
"Healer's hands?" Heffron stares at him, puzzled but intrigued all the same. Doc, seemingly snapped out of his former trance, gives him a small nod.
"Healer's hands, they take away the pain of those she nursed," he informed Heffron, gently before continuing his walk leaving Heffron to stand there, reflecting.
She was a nurse with healer's hands and ultimately was beautiful. Babe wasn't sure why but he stored this information with the thought that maybe one day he could talk a bit more with Doc about her and remembering these things would help. He could see her loss had greatly affected the Medic who looked as though he'd give anything to have her back. Or maybe it wasn't to have her back, maybe it was for her not to have died which may have been the same thing but somehow it wasn't. Babe had a feeling that Doc didn't care one way or another if he ever saw Renee again so much as if he cared that she had died during the war.
It might be that because she wasn't on the battle field it made it harder to accept, or harder to understand. He knew that it would be strange to learn of people dying when he returned home, after all of this. That when he heard of someone dying in their sleep and how tragic it was he would not be able to sympathize with the family. He didn't care if that made him a bad person (he wasn't saying he couldn't sympathize with their loss just that it wasn't that tragic). He understood tragedy, he understood death and how awful and horrible and twisted it could become. If he lived through the war and died in his sleep he would be one blessed man. With those thoughts in his head, he followed Doc into the church.
Inside the church there were girls singing and Gene smiled slightly. It was a pretty sight, he supposed, and most of the men seemed to glad to be warm. That was a comforting thought. He walked towards Lipton who was looking pale and drawn, the beginning of an illness. That was the problem with all the cold weather and the lack of good supplies, too many people were falling ill and there weren't enough supplies (or there hadn't been) to help them. He knew that Lipton wouldn't go to the aid station or to the hospital because he had a deep loyalty to these men.
Walking over, he wondered if Lipton remembered his girl's eye color. He wondered if any of them could remember anything about their home lives and had a feeling most of them remembered it all too well. It struck him as ironic because he couldn't remember the exact shade of Renee's eyes…and they had met during the war.
A/N: I'm terrible at the whole time thing but this was supposed to be set during The Breaking Point at around the end. I took some liberties (I think) while writing this and I think some things were changed around but I'm not sure since I wrote this awhile ago. I also couldn't remember whether Lipton was married already or not but I'm pretty sure he might have been. Well…here it is.