Trip checked the IV bag and nodded, satisfied his patient was getting what his body needed. His mind was something different all together. He knew Matt was doing his best to help Sam with that, but it was rough. He leaned down and looked over Sam's face. It was a little better today. The swelling was down and his bruises were a sickly yellow color.
When Matt came to him with Sam's request, he'd been taken aback. He knew Sam was in pain from the beating, but to be knocked out completely for two days? There was way more to what was going on than either were saying, and Matt wasn't saying. He respected both too much to push for an answer, but it whatever it was, was very bad. He wondered if it had to do with Sam's dad.
As he looked at the fading bruises, he wondered again about the blood. He didn't get to see much when he pulled Sam's pants down and Sam attacked. He'd blown it off when Sam apologized. He wasn't hurt, but he did tell Sam that it was against his morals and medical code to talk about a patient's injuries. He'd hoped that would alleviate some of Sam's fear, but Sam had insisted he was fine, that the bleeding had stopped.
He sighed audibly as he checked Sam's vitals. Everything was normal. He'd agreed reluctantly to knocking Sam out, but he insisted that they wake Sam so he could eat at least twice a day. That had worked ok, except that Sam wasn't very hungry when he woke up. Luckily, Trip was able to get the cook to make a few protein rich shakes for Sam. It wasn't ideal, but it would fuel Sam's body while it healed. He turned to the next bunk and saw that Matt was sitting up. "How much sleep have you gotten?" He asked worriedly.
Matt lifted a shoulder and his stomach betrayed him by growling. He looked down and frowned, stupid stomach. "I'm ok."
"Dammit Matt. I'm tired of being lied to." Trip's angry gaze caught Matt's.
He blew out a breath. "I'm sorry Trip." Matt looked at Sam's sleeping face. "I- I just can't. But I appreciate everything you've done, and so does Sam." His stomach growled again and he rolled his eyes.
Trip smirked. "Go. I'll stay with him. And when you get back, you're taking a nap. I don't know what this is all about, but I do know that Sam will need you to be strong when he wakes up." He turned back to Sam and sat back on his butt on the floor of the tent, the sand shifting slightly beneath him. He saw Matt leave out of his periphery and nodded to himself. Good, he thought. The others were out training, so he went to his bed and grabbed his book. He sat in the same spot and started reading, glancing at Sam every once in awhile.
#####
"Corporal Dirst."
Matt recognized the voice and had to work hard not to turn around and belt the bastard. Oh how he wished he could, but he knew better. He turned slowly to see the Colonel walking towards him as Matt stood in the chow line. "Yes sir?" He saluted, but it was a little sloppy with the heavy tray in his hand. He didn't care.
The Colonel narrowed his eyes at the dark haired little imp. What kind of salute was that? He felt his anger rising and fought to keep from screaming at the prick. He could if he wanted. There were plenty of witnesses in the mess to back up a little punishment. He smiled deliciously. "Drop and give me twenty! You call that a salute soldier?" He smiled when the Corporal dropped his tray on the metal shelf and counted out his punishment. The soldier stood when he was done and saluted properly. "Where is your CO? And why hasn't your unit returned to the field?"
"Training, Sir. We are short a man." Matt stayed in his salute and gave a short answer. He didn't want to give the Corporal the satisfaction of knowing how badly he hurt Sam.
"Oh?" The Colonel smiled internally. "Injury?"
"Sickness, sir." Matt said, not wanting to say it out loud.
"Who?" The Colonel knew, but he wanted the little jerk to say it. This kid was the reason he had to play rough with his toy last night and he wasn't going to let him get away so easy.
Matt inhaled and kept his voice steady. "Master Corporal Braddock...sir."
"Too bad. Give him my best will you?" The Colonel raised a brow, then turned and left.
I'll give him a copy of your obituary, Matt thought darkly. He looked at his tray and suddenly wasn't hungry. He knew Trip would give him a hard time if he didn't eat so he grabbed a sandwich and an apple and left the mess. He ate the sandwich without really tasting it and mowed through the apple tossing the core in a nearby trash with force.
"Matt? What's up?" Hound saw Matt stalking towards the tent and knew something happened.
Matt put his hand out and deflected Hound's approach.
"Hey." Hound caught Matt's shirt and put his other hand on Matt's arm. "Easy kid. What happened?"
"I can't." Matt shook his head, his face red. He wanted to swing at someone or something, but he knew better than to do that to Hound. His body shook with rage.
"Ok. Come on." Hound kept a hold of Matt's shirt and led him past all of the tents to the open workout area. He steered Matt to the heavy bag and helped Matt get his gloves on. He leaned close to Matt. "I don't know what or who you're mad at, but pretend this is them."
Without a word, Matt turned to the bag and started punching. He moved around, switching his feet, bobbing and weaving. As he did so, he felt his anger rise and he hit the bag as hard and as fast as he could.
Hound stood back and watched. Damn, he thought, he'd never seen Matt like this. Whatever was going on was really serious. He thought back to Matt and Sam's actions and behaviors before now. He knew they were really close, more like a brother bond than just friends. Maybe that was why Matt was so upset about their supposed fight. He knew better. Matt and Sam had gotten into small scuffles, but never anything serious that came to blows.
Something else happened that neither wanted to talk about. He'd made a few quiet inquiries, but nothing came up. No one saw Sam, Matt or anyone else go anywhere during the night. It was strange. How did Sam get so beat up? He made sure that Mumbles knew Sam was sick and didn't mention his sniper's injuries. Matt could be charged with assault and it would kill Matt not to be there for Sam. He'd have to keep a close eye on them both.
Matt pounded his fists into the bag, his fury behind every blow. Dirty, nasty bastard. Punch. Hurting Sam, for pleasure. Punch punch. Treating him like some plaything? Punch, stick, punch punch. Screwing with his life. Punch, roundhouse kick. Causing untold pain? Punch punch punch punch. He was using both fists now in rapid succession, his hands a blur as he pounded out his frustration on the bag. A feral growl escaped his lips and he slammed his eyes shut, increasing the ferociousness of his attack. When he finally stopped, his chest was heaving, his hands shaking and sore.
Tentatively, Hound approached. He brought his hands up and cradled Matt's shaking, gloved hands in his. He undid the tape and pulled the gloves off carefully. He stole a glance at Matt when he did so and saw him wince. Crap. "Let me look." He said gently when Matt tried to pull away. He'd open the skin on most of his knuckles, but nothing serious. He gave Matt an amused look, patted him on the back and said, "feel better?"
"Yeah a little." Matt shrugged. He looked at his hands and sighed. Damn they hurt.
"Let's go." Hound tipped his head and they started walking to the tent. "Look, I know things with Sam are bad," when Matt looked at him with a small amount of surprise he added, "it doesn't take a genius to see it kid. I just want you to know that I will do anything to help you and Sam. And you know that goes for Trip, Peach and Zona too, it's what we do." He shrugged. "All you have to do is ask."
"I know," Matt sighed and looked at his bloody hands, "I appreciate it."
"Trip is going to kick your ass you know." Hound raised a brow and the corner of his mouth at Matt.
"Won't be too hard now." Matt held up one of his hands.
"Let's see if we can get 'em cleaned up. They don't look too bad." Hound detoured towards the bathroom and tipped his head.
After a few minutes of carefully rinsing and dabbing his hands dry, Matt's knuckles didn't look as bad. He knew they'd be sore for a little bit, but nothing he couldn't handle. They walked back to the tent and inside. He sat on his bed, his legs next to Trip's shoulder. "What're you reading?" He made a disgusted face after he read a few descriptive sentences.
Trip looked next to him, surprised. When did Matt and Hound get back? He had to stop getting so engrossed in the books he read. "The latest Medical Journal." He held it up so Matt could see the cover.
"Ugh. Pretty graphic." Matt made the face again.
"Just a description of the next big thing in heart surgery." Trip shrugged and looked back at the book. "Next time wear gloves." He dead panned without looking up.
"Oh, uh." Matt hid his hands down next to him.
"I know all, I see all." Trip looked at Matt, winked and went back to his book.
Hound, standing at his tall locker, smiled and busied himself in the locker. He knew they wouldn't fool Trip, but it was worth a shot.
"Sarge!" Peach stick his head through the tent flap and found Hound quickly.
"What's wrong?" Hound was instantly on edge.
"Hurry!" Peach said then disappeared from the door.
Hound, Trip and Matt looked at each other. "Stay with Sam." Hound told Matt as he and Trip left the tent. They saw Peach waiting for them at the end of the tent row and hurried after them. They stopped short when they got to the basketball area.
"You better apologize right fucking now Sanderson!" Zona was straining against two men holding his arms and body while he, red faced, struggled to get to the brunette five feet from him.
"Hey!" Hound used his Drill Sergeant voice to get their attention. "What's going on?"
"Tell him. Go ahead asshole. Tell him what you said about Sam." Zona yelled at the man.
"Sands?" Hound stepped closer to the six foot brunette. When he saw the man swallow, he scoffed.
"Ha! Not so brave now are you?" Zona taunted. Hound was a formidable man and not someone you wanted to cross.
"Zona. Can it." Hound barked then turned back to Sands who had a satisfied look on his face. "Oh you're not safe yet. What did you say, Corporal? I'm not going to ask you again." He put his hands on his hips.
Sands took a breath and stuck out his chest. "I was only repeating a rumor, sir." At Hounds withering look, he cleared his throat and kept his brave face on. "Rumor is that Braddock isn't sick. That he, uh, well that he and Corporal Dirst are," he saw the anger enter Hound's face and feared what he said next, "that they ran off together to get married." He wasn't expecting what came next.
Hound threw his head back and howled with laughter. After a moment he grabbed his stomach and doubled over, unable to stand the pain his laughter was causing.
Awkwardly, Sands started to laugh and was joined by the other people on the court. He started to back away slowly, unsure if he was off the hook or not. Everyone knew how loyal Hound was to his men, but he'd let his mouth get the better of him. He'd have to try harder to think before he spoke, which would be really hard for him. Suddenly, Hound stopped laughing and looked at him with the most anger he'd ever seen. If looks could kill? No, if looks could eviscerate. He put a self conscious hand on his chest.
"Is that the kind of man you are Sands?" Hound barely had a hold of his anger. "The kind that spreads vicious, untrue, bigoted rumors so that you could feel better about yourself? Did you feel better about yourself?" He didn't wait for an answer. "The kind that acts before he thinks or speaks? You don't just represent yourself when you speak, you represent your parents, your family and this army. Do you think your family would be proud of how you acted today?"
Sands hung his head. "No." He said quietly.
"I didn't hear you soldier!" Hound shouted.
"No Sir!" Sands stood at attention. "I am not proud of my behavior today Sir. I will strive to be the man I should be from now on Sir."
Hounds nodded. He already had part of a punishment, but for the other part he wanted Sands to apologize to his unit, publicly. He couldn't do that while Sam looked like he did. That part would have to wait. "Corporal Sands, for your degrading and disgusting behavior today, you will be assigned latrine duty for the next three weeks. And I want you to think about that son. The dirt, grime and god knows what else that lives in those bathrooms. I want you to think real hard about whether you want to stay down in that filth, or if you want to be the man I know your momma raised you to be. Do you understand?"
"Sir, yes sir!" Sands answered. The next three weeks were going to suck bad, but he understood the lesson he had to learn. God damned mouth, he thought angry with himself.
"And, as soon as Master Corporal Braddock is feeling better, you will personally apologize to him, Corporal Dist, me and the rest of my unit in the mess, nice and loud. You hurt one, you hurt all." Hound crossed his arms across his chest.
Oh shit. That sucked, Sands thought dejectedly. "Yes sir."
"Dismissed. Go see Corporal Fanning to sign up for latrine duty." Hound waited for Sands to acknowledge him, salute and hurry off. He looked around at the other men. "Anyone participating in such behavior will join Sands in the latrine. Understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!" The men shouted together, including Zona and Peach.
"Zona, Peach, follow me." Hound's tone was still tinged with anger. Once they were away from the basketball court, Hound turned on them. "Zona, what the hell did you think you were doing? You looking to ruin your career because of some idiot with a big mouth?"
"Yeah but-" Zona put a hand up towards the basketball court.
"Man, no one is worth getting thrown in the brig." Hound cut him off and shook his head. He turned to Peach. "And where were you?"
"I tried to get him to stop and when I couldn't I came to find you." Peach explained. He'd wanted to punch the loudmouths lights out too, but he'd learned long ago not to let people get under his skin. It was never worth it.
"Use your heads dammit." Hound turned and started walking back to the tent. He wasn't looking forward to telling Matt and Sam about this. It would hurt them both to know people were talking like that. He hoped that they would see that it was just a bunch of hot air from stupid people. He stopped and turned back to Peach and Zona. "When you tell Matt, keep it light."
"Yeah of course." Zona nodded. Matt had been on edge since Sam got hurt. Better to not add to his stress.