Reid lay by the wooden cot, Cornett's limp form sitting up by force. The once tan hue of his brow was ghostly, and his electric blue eyes were faded and ringed. His cap was gone, waiting faithfully at the table on his left, and his blue shirt was fanned open, even though he was chilled. Two strong hands lay laced on his lap as he forced a weak smile to one of his closest friends. "Cornett," Reid said, barely audible, "I should have been there." Cornett began to speak, but coughed heartily, almost scaring Reid into holding his fallen shoulder.
"It's OK," Cornett reassured. "Really, it's OK." The door to Reid's tree house opened, and Sal slid in. Cornett immediately tried to sit up, but Reid had to hold him together.
"Cornett, Good Sousa, what happened," Sal hushed, rushing to the foot of the bed. "I heard you were in an accident, but, oh Sousa, have mercy…"
"The trombones are working on his instrument," Reid said. "I'm not allowed to check up on it." Random Flutelings were setting trays full of medicine and water. One offered Cornett a piece of bread, which he graciously turned down. "You have to eat, Cornett," Reid coached.
"I'm not hungry, I promise. Where's Jazz?" Reid glanced to Sal, who shrugged.
"Your condition's not sitting well with the band," Sal said, taking a seat at where Cornett's toes would be. "Fifty-four were injured, but none as serious as you." Cornett lowered his head fearfully.
"And my parents?"
"They're not allowed to pass the field during war. We told them, though, and they're sending some goodies for you." Cornett smiled, very faintly, and looked up, his eyes almost lighting up again.
"Just like camp, right?" Sal sighed and laughed.
"Yeah, just like camp." The door opened again and Jazz sauntered in.
"I heard you were slacking off," he joked, the comfort in his face leaving as soon as he saw his friend. "Guess…guess you'll be out for a while."
"It's individual comp out there, guys," Cornett coughed. "You should be playing, not with me. I'll be all right." He got no response. "Come on, Kee, there's a band that needs you!"
"They need you too, Nett," Sal answered, leaning closer. "They'll do without the four of us for now."
"Reid can stay with me."
"That I will. Go on, guys, it's the Trombones we're depending on." The Fluteling offered the bread again and this time, Cornett took it with a smile.
"Thanks."
"Cornett, we won't win without you." Cornett smiled again and leaned back.
"The day leaves me," he whispered, eyes growing rapidly heavy.
"Sleep, friend," Reid said, pulling away a pillow. "Go on, Picca, tell Trill he needs more water."