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Chapter 10 – Struggle

As soon as he had walked a considerable distance away from the camp, the soldier dropped the shovel he had been carrying; it was only needed to make it seem as if the woman he had over his shoulder really was dead. He adjusted her body so that she was lying across his arms now, before continuing to an unknown destination.

He had no idea what he was going to do with the poor girl, but wherever he decided to leave her, it was going to be better than slowly dying in a Yankee camp. Her condition was not good, when he had put the blanket around her body, and lightly draped the material over her face, her skin had felt hot and feverish. But he knew that leaving her somewhere with medicine and bandages for someone else to find, was better than the guaranteed death she faced if he had not. Unbeknownst to him, a certain someone was about to find not only her, but him as well.

"Don't move…" Chuck said lowly as he suddenly stepped out from behind a thicket of trees, with his pistol drawn. The soldier fumbled back a few steps in startled surprise, nearly losing his grip on Blair's body. "Put her down."

Chuck had been trailing the man for a short distance, easily recognizing Blair's form, if not by size, then by the chocolate colored curls spilling from beneath the blanket over her head. He kept his gun trained on the man's face, waiting until Blair was safely laid on the ground, before calmly approaching the man and catching him completely off guard by slamming the handle of the pistol into the side of his face.

His body went down hard, and Chuck followed close behind, tossing the pistol to the side and opting to wrestle the unarmed man onto his back. The fury coursing through Chuck's mind easily allowed him to bring his forearm across the man's neck, before his opponent could even properly react.

Chuck leaned heavily onto his arm, holding all of his weight against the man's throat, and watching intently as the veins in his neck and forehead bulged out from the force. He wanted nothing more than to see the body beneath him become slack with death, but just as he was about to press harder, a faint noise distracted him.

Chuck's head snapped to the side in time to see Blair's foot twitch slightly under her covering, and it was a break in focus which let the other man roughly shove him away. The soldier leapt to his feet and grabbed the gun, before Chuck had a chance to regain his balance.

"Wait!" He shouted, pointing the pistol at Chuck, increasing his anger immeasurably.

The soldier could tell that the dark haired man in front of him was about to charge him again, not even caring that he could just as easily kill him. But he had to make him realize that he wasn't his enemy in this fight.

"Stop…" He announced again, and this time Chuck listened to his words when he motioned to Blair. "I'm not trying to hurt her, she needs help…are you – do you know her?"

"Yes…" Chuck ground out from between his teeth, his fingers clenching into a fist at his side.

"Tell me her name, then." The soldier told him slowly, still on the defense.

At first Chuck was stunned by his audacity, but then he recognized the concern the Yankee's voice held for Blair, and some of the harshness faded from his features. "Her name is Blair…Blair Waldorf."

He nodded in approval, but before he could speak again Chuck was cutting him off. "I knew she was hurt, but how badly?"

"We found her in a ditch…" The man began to explain, and Chuck impatiently gestured his understanding. "She has a wound on her face. I cleaned it somewhat, but it is already infected and she is developing a fever."

Nausea settled into Chuck's stomach, the nature of the comment making him feel sick. He hadn't even seen Blair's face yet, but if she was injured that badly and was already feverish, it had to be serious.

"You have to take her somewhere safe and let her rest…you have to keep her fever down." The soldier explained, glancing at the unconscious body lying only a few feet away.

Chuck's instincts took over and he nodded hastily. Then he knelt down beside Blair, hesitantly scooping her body up into his embrace, afraid of causing her any pain. His face showed a touch of desperation, but mostly a sense of relief flooded his body at feeling Blair's head roll against his shoulder.

"Here…" The Yankee soldier said, gently setting the pistol on the fabric over Blair's stomach so Chuck could keep a hold of her. "Travel west, there won't be any more troops nearby."

"Wait." Chuck stopped him from walking away, and then studied him for a few seconds, specifically noting the letters US stitched into his coat. He was still taken aback by the whole situation. "Thank you…"

A moment of understanding passed between the two, before the Yankee gave Chuck a slight nod, and each of them turned away from one another, heading in opposite directions.

*****

Chuck continued trekking across the land, until the muscles in his back and shoulders burned from the effort of supporting Blair for so long. He had adjusted her body miles ago to distribute her weight differently, and her covered forehead now rested against the side of his neck. With every misstep or sudden movement, guilt would twinge in his mind as he heard sighs and light groans.

When he felt that they had reached a fairly secluded area of forest, Chuck carefully laid Blair in the shade, making sure to keep the blanket over her face. As horrible as he felt for not doing so, he still could not bring himself to lift the flap of fabric.

Instead, he busied himself with sorting through the items he had flung into the large bag, beside the river. He had been so consumed by thoughts of Blair, that he could hardly remember what things he had chosen to leave behind. The small tent with its stakes and ropes was rumpled inside the bag, and Chuck faintly remembered thinking it would be of importance. But he could only hope that his other choices would be just as helpful.

Chuck spilled the contents on the ground, growling in frustration when he realized he had brought nothing more than wool blankets, an undershirt, water, and the supplies for his guns. Kicking the ground, he cursed his stupidity under his breath for not bringing any food or the roll of bandaging; that he knew had been stuffed into one of the other saddlebags.

He gazed at the ground for a moment while thinking, before turning to look at Blair, still lying there motionless and unaware. Seeing her so defenseless made Chuck rethink his irritation and he decided that he needed to care for her, instead of getting angry over something that could no longer be helped. Gathering the stakes and ropes in his hands, he made quick work of setting up the tent, and then spread the blankets out inside.

Once he had Blair down on the makeshift bed, he sat down beside her, mentally preparing himself. A sudden vision of the wounds he had seen in the last battle he had fought flashed through his mind, but he rapidly closed his eyes against the memory…this was different.

Chuck reached out his hand and grasped the corner of the blanket in his fingertips, took a deep breath, and then removed it from Blair's head. What he saw before him made his eyebrows come together and his jaw clench in a pained grimace.

Blair's eye was completely swollen shut by the purple bruising that reached above her eyebrow and to the top of her cheek. The gashes running diagonally across her brow bone and extending down to the delicate flesh of her eyelid gaped open and were beginning to weep yellowish-white pus. The entire left side of her face was coated in a layer of dried blood, which matted her hair and continued down to her neck and chest. It was no longer a mirror image of the right side, which apart from being smeared with dust and blood looked completely untouched, nearly peaceful, when compared to the other.

Chuck knew what he had to do, but now he was afraid to even touch Blair. Eventually he tore his eyes from her broken face and moved into a kneeling position, unwrapping the remainder of the blanket. Her clothing was stained in various places, but Chuck was curiously focusing on the leather sack resting on Blair's chest that had also been revealed.

Picking it up, Chuck shook it out and to his surprise found bandages, matches, a brown glass jar, and even hardtack, falling into his hand. Whoever the Yankee soldier was, Chuck would forever appreciate and marvel at what he of all people, had done for Blair.

The findings made Chuck feel a little better and after setting them aside, he lightly brushed his fingers over Blair's forehead, more as a soothing gesture for himself rather than her. Then he began unbuttoning her jacket, so he could start cleaning her up.

Removing the clothing proved to be a difficult task and Chuck had to stop repeatedly to prop Blair against his chest, while he wrestled her arms from the jacket and undershirt sleeves. She kept moaning in pain at being jostled around so much and Chuck was more than thankful when he was able to lay her back down on the blankets. Although once the clothes were removed, it was difficult for him to ignore the random smattering of bruises on her bare skin, making his temper flair.

The extra undershirt Chuck had absently packed was torn into pieces by his side and he wetted them down, before using them to wash away the blood. Chuck studied Blair's expression as he worked, noting the way her eyebrows and lips twitched slightly in response to his touches.

After he had cleaned her up as best as he could, he found another dampened piece of the shirt and very carefully began dabbing the pus and old blood from the cuts. Blair flinched in her heavy sleep, and let out another small moan, but unlike the other times she had been hurting, Chuck was there to calm her down.

"Blair, shh…" He whispered, and placed his free hand on Blair's cheek, stroking her soft, yet heated flesh. Whether she could hear him or not, Chuck wanted to believe that the crease between her brows relaxed because somewhere she was distantly recognizing that he was there for her.

Droplets of water slipped into Blair's hairline as Chuck wrung the cloth out over the wound, repeating the action until most of the debris was washed away. The severed skin was not as intimidating once it had been cleaned, but it was still obvious that it would cause lingering scars.

As he gently blotted the excess moisture from Blair's face, Chuck examined the glass jar in his other hand, turning it around in search of its identification. There wasn't one to be found, but he had enough experiences to know that it had to be a treatment for wounds. After unscrewing the top, he dipped his index finger into the mixture, and then spread a layer over the injured area.

The bandaging was the next thing to be wrapped into place, and as Chuck coiled the material around Blair's face, over her eye and forehead, he nearly laughed just thinking about how absolutely disgusted she would be with her current attire.

Chuck knew that Blair was still in danger of fever and infection, but he couldn't help feeling relieved as he looked down at her. She seemed relaxed now, breathing evenly and contently. Chuck closed his eyes and let out a breath that he felt he had been holding since that night in the river, before shrugging his jacket and shirt off his shoulders, and then lying down.

Blair's skin felt warm as Chuck turned to his side and pulled her back against his chest, but he brought one of the blankets over their bodies anyway. He reveled in the sensation of her stomach rising and falling slowly against his arm, which was draped over her slim waist, and soon the exhaustions of the past days combined with holding Blair close, were lulling Chuck to sleep.

*****

Chuck had slept the rest of the day and on through the night hours, and would have stayed at rest if it were not for the uncomfortably hot temperature nagging him to waking. Without opening his eyes, he swiped at the blanket covering his torso, trying to push it away, but when his fingertips brushed over the rounded hip pressed closely to his, he suddenly recognized the source of the disruption.

As he sat up, Chuck ran his hand down the length of Blair's side, quickly assessing the heated dampness clinging to her skin. She was completely oblivious to the situation, but Chuck knew that it was crucial to keep her hydrated in order to overcome the complications of infection.

"Blair…Blair, you need to wake up…" Chuck whispered to her, as he snaked his arm beneath her shoulders to bring her upright. Her visible eyelid twitched from the movement, but it took Chuck's gentle fingers stroking the side of her sweaty face to coax it open.

Blair squinted from the light assaulting her senses, and lazily let her eye close again, too dazed to realize or care that Chuck was staring down at her and had woken her for an important reason.

"No, open your eyes…come on." He persisted in trying to wake her, making Blair toss her head to the side. "You need water…"

When Blair finally opened her one uncovered eye and kept it open, Chuck could tell by the hollowness in her gaze that she was barely holding to consciousness. Although it seemed like a small portion of her fiery temper was showing through from having been roused, despite her incomplete coherence.

"Blair?" Chuck spoke her name again, and watched sadly as she looked at him with her drowsy stare, not fully recognizing what was happening. He worked quickly to uncap the water, before cupping the side of her face in his palm, aiding her in opening her mouth.

She swallowed the water without much difficulty at first, but when her eye drifted shut again and she lost concentration, Chuck pulled the jug away when she began to choke on the liquid. The container was set down, and easily forgotten, as he gathered Blair against his body and ran his hand down her smooth back until her coughing subsided.

After holding her for a moment, he guided Blair to rest on the blankets once more, letting her sleep and ending her struggle against something she wasn't yet strong enough to fight.

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