Un-betaed

{ } Indicates spoken German.

Chapter Five

Carter stopped dead in the doorway, unknowingly letting out a gasp of surprise. Panic twisted the German's sweaty face and he jerked and twisted even harder against the ropes binding him to the cot.

{ Stop! }Carter cried, dropping the plate of food in his rush to the bed. { You'll hurt yourself! }

It was if he had not spoken. The cot rocked with the German's struggles, threatening to fall apart and toss him to the floor. Carter hesitated, then jammed his hands down on the heaving shoulders.

{ If I tell you where you are, will you stop? }

Gasping and pale, the German fell back on the cot. After a moment's silence, he gave a single nod. Carter sighed in relief and straightened.

{ We found you in the woods. } Carter cleared his throat, put a little more strength into his voice. { We brought you here . . . and . . . I can't really tell where 'here' is, but it's safe. . . and we tied you down . . . well, because we thought it best. For everyone. You, included. } He sighed, touched his fingers to the bruise on his cheek. { But you're safe here. We're the good guys. }

The split lips twisted into a sneer, clearly expressing the man's belief in that claim.

{ Really!} Carter protested. { We're not the ones who did this to you. We -- } Carter stopped. For one brief instant, the German had appeared genuinely surprised. Carter's stomach did a queasy lurch and roll as he contemplated what the other man must have endured.

{ It must have been awful. }

The ravaged lips pressed tightly together, tension returning to the German's body.

Carter winced, kicking himself for bringing up obviously painful reminders.

{ I'm sorry. }

The German did a full body twitch, as if hearing the apology had actually hurt. Carter's jaw dropped in a soundless gasp of realization. Not a word had passed from the German's mouth, yet he was still talking – with his body! Carter nibbled on his thumbnail, carefully thought out his next words. It was about time he found out who they were dealing with -- if only to settle the matter and his friend's apprehension.

{ My friends think it's dangerous for us that you're here. I'm not so sure. Still, I understand why we can't let you know exactly who we are or where you're at. But we couldn't leave you out there . . . } Carter's eyes narrowed. . . even if you are Gestapo. }

A stillness settled over the other man and Carter shook his head. So, the other man was Gestapo.

Carter sighed. Now, more than ever, it was unlikely the Gestapo officer would ever give his name. Yet Carter wanted to grant him the respect of at least calling him something. Tipping his head to the side, he squinted, trying to picture the German's face without injuries.

{ What am I going to call you? How about . . . Frank? } He waited, hoping for some kind of response. { No? I didn't think so, either. You don't look like a Frank. Paul's a good name. Nice and strong. Not Paul, either? Okay. What about Harry? Melvin? That was the name of the little boy down the street from us. He had red hair and thick glasses, but he was a really good speller, and . . . you don't look a thing like him. Nope. You're not a Melvin. }

The man remained stubbornly silent, though a slight tremor ran the length of his body again.

{ Jack!} Carter blurted, surprising himself. { Jack,} he repeated, feeling suddenly weighted down by sadness. { That was my brother's name, } he softly explained. { It's a good one, don't you think? }

A convulsive swallow was the only answer he received. Carter decided to take that as a 'yes' and smiled broadly, leaving the melancholy behind.

{ Jack, it is! }

There was no answer to that, either, and Carter shrugged to himself. Silence had never bothered him.

{ Do you feel like sitting up? }

Knowing his C.O. and friends would give him grief for doing so, Carter nevertheless loosened the ropes binding Jack's upper body to the cot. Moving slowly, he eased Jack upright and put some pillows behind him, bracing his back. Not a sound passed the German's lips, but his face grew drawn and beaded with fresh sweat. Carter noticed the signs of distress and sat back, biting his lip.

{ I'm sorry I hurt you, Jack. }

The strain gradually faded from Jack's face and his breath -- which had grown slightly ragged – grew quieter. Carter took hold of a damp cloth and leaned toward him.

{ I'm just going to wipe off your face, } he warned.

At the first touch of the cloth, Jack's head jerked back and Carter jerked his hand back in sympathetic reaction. He waited a few moments for Jack to get used to the idea, then tried again. A muscle in the bruised jaw bunched and Jack's breath quickened, but he submitted to the care.

Carter gently sponged the cloth over the bruises, doing his best not to wet the bandage on Jack's cheekbone. The skin there had split wide open, directly along the bone. He swallowed, imagining the force behind a blow that would inflict such damage.

{ Gosh, that must hurt something fierce. }

Jack licked his cracked lips and his hands clenched upon the blanket at his waist.

{ You must be thirsty, } Carter murmured. Laying the cloth aside, he picked up a cup of water and held it to Jack's lips. { Here, this should taste good. }

Jack's lips clamped together and he turned his head away. Carter glanced down at the cup.

{ It's just water. I promise. }

Jack's head stayed turned away.

It suddenly dawned upon Carter how galling the situation must be for the Gestapo officer. Not wanting to injure the other man's pride any more than necessary, Carter sought a way around the problem.

How about this? He nudged the cup between the bound, battered hands. { You can do it yourself, okay? }

The cup was accepted and Carter grinned. In the next moment, he had to lunge to his left to keep from getting beaned as the cup was thrown – hard. It crashed against the far wall, fell to the floor in a shower of liquid.

Perkins jumped through the doorway, gun drawn in a two-handed grip. Carter frantically waved him off, slipped back into English without thinking.

"It's okay!"

Clearly thinking otherwise, Perkins' took in Carter's crumpled position on the floor and the overturned chair next to the bed. His hard eyes swung to Jack and narrowed.

"I'm not hurt!" Carter insisted, pushing up on one elbow. Perkins glanced in his direction, skewered Jack with another cold stare, then slowly backed out of the room.

Releasing his breath in a quiet 'whoosh', Carter pushed himself upright against the wall and laid his arms on his knees. "Guess you're not thirsty after all," he sighed. "Gosh, I wish you could see. Things would probably be a lot less scary for you."

Jack's brows slowly drew down and his head turned just a bit toward Carter.

"Hey," Carter said in the soft tone of wonder. "You understood what I said."

Instantly, the bruised face went blank. Carter grinned and sat up straighter.

"It's okay to be scared. I get scared all the time. My friends do, too. They don't say so, but I know they do. Everybody gets scared." His grin slowly faded. "There's sure a lot to be scared about nowadays." He sat back against the wall, shifted a little get comfortable. "Gosh. It seems like years and years since the worst thing I had to be scared about was whether Mom and Dad were going to tan my hide for not being home on time." He thought a moment, then chuckled. "I guess it has been years and years."

Carter righted his chair and sat down near the cot again.

"Do you have family?" He suddenly frowned to himself. "Oh. You probably don't want to tell me anything about that, do you? That's okay. You want to protect your friends and family. I would, too. I mean – I do, too. Protect my friends and family. When I can." Carter sighed, looked down at the floor. "I can't, always." He glanced back up and grinned again. There was a definite tilt to Jack's head now, as if he was trying to catch every word.

"My friends protect me, too," Carter said, then his voice turned slightly wistful. "But sometimes, they try too hard. Like now."

Jack's frown returned, deeper than before.

"They think you're going to hurt me." Carter touched a finger to his scraped cheek, chuckled. "Well, technically, you already have, but you didn't mean to. You can't even see me, so it was just luck or bad timing, however you want to look at it." He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Even if you had meant to hit me, I wouldn't hold it against you. You've been through a lot already."

Jack's head snapped toward Carter, his lips parting as if he were about to speak. Carter unconsciously leaned closer, but Jack was already settling back against the pillows, his expression once more closed. Carter breathed a sigh of disappointment and leaned back again.

"It always helps me to talk things out with my friends. Talking it out is like sharing the burden. What's left afterward is lighter, easier to handle."

Jack swallowed and his expression shifted. The bruises made it difficult to tell for certain, but Carter thought the battered face suddenly held a longing. He held his breath, sensing he was on the verge of a breakthrough.

To be continued. . .