2 Months Later. 4:30 AM, Afghanistan.
A unit was skirting the perimeter of a nearby village as part of a normal keep the peace patrol. It was usually a quiet and safe detail, the village being relatively friendly and having a low population. Tonight, however, they had been ambushed. They were pinned down at an abandoned farm on the edge of the village and had been for the better part of an hour. The commander on scene had sent a message advising that he had two injured, one of them was their medic. Drew's team had been mobilized and in less than thirty minutes they were in the air. Gary had gotten them as close as he could without risking getting shot down to the farm house. He was hanging back now, waiting for Drew to call for evac. The rest of them, Ugh, Jim-Jo, and Marsh, had managed to reach where the bulk of the unit was pinned.
"You the med team?" The Lieutenant asked between fire exchanges.
"We're them. What's the story?" Drew called, taking cover nearby.
"Ambush. We've gotten most of it under control but two of my guys are pinned thirty yards down, by what used to be a stable." The young officer nodded his head towards the burning structure where Drew could just make out two forms. "Jax was taking a piss near there when we got an RPG hit. Luckily they over shot, but we still got rattled. Jax got blown back and didn't respond. Vinny went to get him and caught fire. He's still conscious and says he's fine but he always says that."
"Got that Lieutenant. Don't worry, we'll get your guys," Drew said then turned to his team. "Ugh, you're with me, we're gonna assume patient one has blast injures. Jim-Jo-"
"I got the medic?" The specialist said, catching on.
Drew nodded, "You got it. Marsh, stick with Jim."
"Yes sir," the young soldier replied.
Drew looked back at the Lieutenant, "have your guys lay down cover."
The young man nodded and called to his men while Drew's team got in position. "On my signal Doc, stay low," the Lieutenant said and Drew nodded, taking a deep breath. He gave a nod and braced himself, forcing his mind to be calm before running out into the thick of the chaos.
There was a staggered volley, fired towards the enemy, then the word "go" was shouted and the team was moving. It was a mad dash in slow motion, the four men sprinting in crouched positions as the other unit fired cover volleys. They reached the medic first he was behind the relative cover of some kind of trough. Jim-Jo dropped down next to him, taking charge with Marsh setting up a defensive position from where he could protect them all. Drew spared the medic a glance, noting at least two wounds that were bleeding steadily but not serious. He was alert enough to talk so Drew didn't bother with a second look.
Ugh and he reached Jax moments later, hitting the dirt as several shots came their way. There was a return volley and then nothing for a long moment giving Drew a chance to look at his patient. He was a young, about twenty, and unconscious. He had blood smeared down his face and in the weak light it was hard to make out where it was coming from.
"He don't look good Doc," Ugh said, already pulling out the equipment for vitals.
"Nope. If he's got blast syndrome, and I'm pretty sure he does, we need to get him out of here," Drew confirmed as he began a rapid assessment. "C-collar, I can't clear his c-spine. And we're going to need to package his chest, it's a noted deformity."
"Got ya Doc. Vitals are-" before Ugh could finish there was another round of fire that had them ducking and covering.
"Damn it," Drew hissed, shielding his patient. There were several volleys from their side and once again, the night went still. "Ugh, vitals."
"Heart rate seventy. BP 190 over 100. Diminished lung sounds. You know the rest," he said as he started pulling out the c-collar and some bandages for Drew.
Drew looked over to Jim-Jo and Marsh who seemed to be wrapping up with their own patient. "Jim-Jo, what you got?" He called.
"A dumbass with three holes, one looks like an exit. Vitals suck but they're stable. He's gonna make it," came the gruff reply.
"He's gonna kick your ass," Vinny, the injured man, coughed out.
"Yeah, well, you get yourself shot you get the dumbass award. Right Doc?" Jim-Jo said as he finished bandaging his patient.
"You also get tampons shoved into your body," Marsh added.
"Not helping Marsh," Ugh called. "Doc, he's ready to move. We don't have a backboard though."
"Yeah, I know. We don't have a choice," Drew looked over to the others than out into the direction of fire. His brain was working over time thinking of how to move his men and patients to safety. "Alright, here's the plan. Marsh plant yourself, Ugh and I are coming to you and Jim. As soon as we're there, Ugh and Jim, take Vinny to cover. Marsh, when they're in cover we fall back. Everyone understand?"
There was a round of "yes sir", and Marsh moved into position. Drew keyed up on his radio to alert the Lieutenant they were falling back and had them fire another volley. "When the volley ends, we move," he called to the others just before it started. And like the well-oiled machine they were, they were moving. His plan worked better than Drew had hopped and several minutes later they were behind cover. But things weren't all right.
"Doc," Ugh said bringing Drew's attention to Jax, "he's posturing!"
"You need ta get Jax outta here! Get him to a base!" the Lieutenant called, scared. Drew understood, no commander wanted to face losing a man.
"Pressure in his head is building," Drew stated after re-examining the injured man. "He's not gonna make it to base unless we do something now."
"What ya thinking?" Ugh said.
There was another exchange of fire and Drew felt a sickening sense of déjà vu. He had faced almost this exact thing before. At that time, he hadn't known how to fix it, but now he was a doctor… "Get me a drill," he said, voice eerily calm.
"What the fuck are you going to do with a drill?" the Lieutenant asked, confused and his protectiveness making him angry.
"He's going to use it to put a hole in the guy's head so he doesn't die," Ugh said. "Jim, hand me your bag and then you and Marsh hold him still. C spine, got it?"
"Yes sir…" Jim-Jo said, as he and Marsh did as ordered.
"Are you serious?" The Lieutenant asked dumbfounded.
"No choice, Ugh?" Drew said.
"It's ready," and it was clear that the combat nurse wasn't so sure about this either. Jim-Jo and Marsh looked nervous but stayed in position. Ugh moved up to monitor Jax's vitals, such as he could.
"Alright, everybody say a prayer," Drew said as he started to drill...
-line-
10:00 PM, San Antonio
If he had to read one more paragraph, he was going to scream. His eyes were burning; vision blurring, and he swore he had read the same sentence ten times now. Looking at his computer's clock, Rick groaned. All he wanted was to go to bed, but he had a paper due in three days and the damn article was one of the required sources. He remembered now why he had always hated college.
This momentary frustration aside, however, life was pretty good. He was still looking for a place, though Frankie, an Army buddy, didn't mind and constantly assured him he was fine to stay as long as he wanted. But Frankie was a single guy, with an active nightlife and a lot of female friends who stayed over, a lot. And they were very active and loud all night. Besides, Rick hated feeling like an imposition and also really just wanted his own space, especially now that he was in school again. It would make studying easier. Though so far he was doing well in his classes. His therapies, physical and mental, were also showing positive effects and he was right where he should be in both areas and only getting better. And Drew…
The two had been emailing and IMing regularly over the past two months, or as regularly as they could. Drew had been avoiding Skype, and Rick wasn't entirely sure why but he could take a guess. Drew was trying to keep himself distanced in someway. He wasn't sure if it was because he doubted Rick would stay or if it was because he was still sticking to the habits he'd learned in the closet. Hell, knowing Drew, it could be that he was trying to help keep Rick from worrying. It didn't matter, the result was the same; messaging was their main source for communication. He'd take it anyway he could though.
However, it was still hit or miss. Sometimes Rick got lucky, and Drew wasn't on an assignment or the base wasn't flooded with wounded. Those were the times that they could exchange email two or three times a day, almost like having a conversation, or better yet IM and actually have a conversation. Most of the time, however, Drew was called away. He'd have to wait days for replies. Those were the times he'd have to remind himself to breathe and ignore the fears lurking in his head.
Their conversations had started out simply enough. Catching up, how was your day, what were your plans; those kinds of things. But as they both become more comfortable with their newfound routine, they started getting to the heavier things. The, 'while you were gone' and 'this still sucks' kind of things. One of the more painful conversations had been about Drew sleeping with other men after the break up. It was unfair and completely selfish, but Rick had felt cheated on. He had been angry and hurt by it and he wanted to know if he had just not been good enough. If his body, such as it was, was too ugly now. Drew's reply had been angry and defensive at first. A short one-line answer, you walked out. Then there was radio silence for three days and Rick feared he'd fucked up. He had been ready to grovel again when the follow up came.
Just got back to base. I'm sorry for being a shit. Let me explain. I thought I was worthless when you left. I thought I was what was wrong. I started listening to that voice in my head that told me I never should have left Iraq. I needed something to convince myself that I still was worth something. And, nothing was as good as it was with you.
They had managed to work from there. Both of them kind of addressing the issues they had brought up. Drew, his inner demons and Rick, his perception of his body; both those things always seemed to get in the way before. Not anymore, not if they wanted this to work. There was still more to talk about here, more to address, but it was getting better.
Not all of their conversations were so heavy, however, and Rick smiled as he looked at the image he still had up on his screen. Drew had sent it to him the other day; it was him with his 'shit heads'. Rick had asked him about his unit and Drew was trying to give him a visual to go with the stories. He had to say, he appreciated it. The five man team had been caught in their off hours, sitting outside the base, apparently after a water fight. Drew's caption had read "the most intense fight of my tour so far," and they were all smiling and laughing. It was nice to see Drew actually able to relax some over there… and the fact that he was shirtless didn't hurt either.
A chime from his computer speakers alerted him to the IM he'd just received. He smiled seeing the notification for Drew's chat. Clicking on it he read, still up?
Yeah. Studying. He replied quickly.
There was a moment's pause, like a hesitation, than Skype?
Rick smiled; this was a very welcome distraction. Yeah. I'm on.
It was a matter of seconds before the call was coming in and he had to admit, he felt butterflies. This was the first time he was going to see Drew in about six months. It was stupid, but it felt exciting. Answering the call, Rick was all smiles despite the fact he had a very tired Drew on the other line.
"Hey," Rick said.
Drew was sort of slumped forward, head resting in his arms, but he had a smile and replied, "hey yourself. You look good…"
"You look exhausted," Rick commented laughing, and, as if on cue, Drew yawned.
"Don't know what you're talking about…" he said, "What time is it there?"
"About 22:10. What about there?"
"Too damn early... and I've been up since way too damn early. God I miss night shift…" Drew sighed and rubbed his face. It was then that Rick noticed it, the shaking in his hands.
He took a long, hard, and closer look at the other man, ignoring the smile and the attempts at conversation. He was pale; the dark circles under his eye made him look sick. He was clearly tired; his voice thick with the exhaustion, but the way his shoulders slumped was caused by something else. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on him; something was wrong. "Hey," Rick said, voice soft, "What happened?"
Drew stiffened, straightening up, almost startled. He never liked talking about what was bothering him. He never liked sharing. He would, when pressed to, but it could be a fight. This time, however, it didn't look like it would be. "That obvious, huh?" Drew sighed.
"Yeah," Rick teased, "you're not as good at hiding things as you think."
"Not from you…" Drew trailed off, his eyes unfocusing for a long moment. Rick had seen that look before, not just in Drew but hundreds of vets. He felt his heartbreak slightly knowing that his boy was reliving some trauma but he stayed quite. He was going to let him do it in his own time.
"Got back from a hot zone. A patrol got pinned down and they had two injured. Both of them kids… one had blast injures," Drew said, voice low and he had to swallow.
"Jesus," Rick sighed. He didn't even have to pretend to understand what the doctor was talking about. He had seen it before too. "How bad?"
"I don't know yet. We're not exactly sure how close he was to the explosion but there's a lot of internal damage. He's stable though," Drew said.
"Hey! Well that's something. Even critical, stable's good. Right?" Rick said, reassuringly. Drew only nodded once, eyes down. "So, what aren't you telling me?"
"He had the same head injury as Shay," Drew whispered and Rick felt cold.
Shay has been one of the more vivid nightmares from Drew's first tour. He himself had never met the man, but Drew had a picture of them together in Iraqi. They had been battle brothers, the new guys in the unit together. Shay had also figured out Drew was gay and had protected him, deflecting a lot of the gay jokes that were typical in a unit onto himself to help keep Drew's secret. They two had been close, and Shay had died in Drew's arms.
"Drew… I…." Rick tried to think of something. Tried to say something that could ease the turmoil but words failed in the wake of grief.
"It worked," Drew said sniffing. "It worked exactly the way it should and I got the swelling down enough for him to be transported."
"What worked?" Rick asked, a little confused.
"I drilled into the kid's head. His brain was swelling and he needed the pressure to be released or he was going to start convulsing. He was already posturing… I drilled into his head, in the middle of a firefight. And it worked. He made it to base," Drew explained. "It would've worked for Shay too, I should have-"
"Been a doctor at eighteen?" Rick said, cutting him off.
Drew glared at him, "you don't-"
Again, Rick cut him off. "Your unit didn't have a doctor that day. What they had was an eighteen-year-old kid who was one hell of an Army medic. That kid crawled out into fire to drag another wounded kid into cover and began treating him. They had a medic who did everything he could. But they didn't have a doctor. You're a doctor now Drew, and you know what to do now. You knew how to save that kid now because of Shay. Don't you think you did him proud?" Drew was quiet for a long moment and Rick could see the tears the other wanted to shed. "It's not your fault," Rick said softly.
Drew swallowed back a sob with great effort. Rick saw but he didn't comment on it. Drew had never been as open about emotion as he was. Drew's father had always been one of those 'suck it up buttercup' kinds of soldiers. From the few stories Drew told, Rick had gotten the sense the expression of emotions were all but beaten out of him. Rick had been lucky; his father had been more accepting in many ways.
"He still may die," Drew said, voice choked.
"And that wouldn't be your fault either. You got him this far. You gave him a chance. You have done your part. You're not God," Rick replied, and he could see the words getting through to the other, at least somewhat.
"Above all, I must not play at God," Drew mumbled and Rick smiled. He knew those words, that oath, and remembered watching Drew take it.
"You're a good doctor, Drew. You're a good soldier. Don't forget it."
Drew gave him a half smile, "Thanks." He let out another sigh and Rick could sense a conversation change coming. Drew had, had enough emotions for one call. "Are you still staying at Frankie's?" He asked.
"Yeah, right now all the apartments are either overpriced or non existent. So I'm a little stuck," Rick shrugged. "I don't mind it for now. I mean, I want my own place but…"
"You're miserable there," Drew laughed and Rick did too.
"It's not great. It's not like hell or anything, but there's no peace and quiet," Rick admitted.
"I never took you off the lease," came a very shocking statement and it left Rick stunned.
"What?" He asked.
Drew blushed, but cleared his throat and repeated, "You're still on the lease. I never got around to taking you off. And the next few months are paid for."
"Drew," Rick said, smiling but shaking his head, "I couldn't do that to you."
The other shrugged. "Just giving you an option. Krista and Kenny both have a spare key. They were keeping an eye on my place and truck. I mean if you need to get out of Frankie's place… it's just an option."
"Ya know…" Rick chuckled, "the next time one of Frankie's girlfriends tries to convert me, I might take you up on that."
"Oh God… I hate that…" Drew groaned and then laughed. "It's happening here. I've got two nurses trying."
"Two huh? Damn, I need to step up my game, now that I have competition," Rick teased and gave the other a quick wink, "or ya know, I could just try to beat your score."
The two of them had gone through the 'conversion' attempts so many times in their life that when they started dating, it had become almost a game to them. It was one of those shared and familiar experiences they often had to laugh about it or it would drive them crazy. It was sad to think people didn't know you couldn't convert anyone to a sexual orientation, and frustrating when you were the one they were trying to.
Drew shook his head, "Just get out of there. Don't even…"
He trailed off suddenly, face growing serious and looking around him. Rick couldn't hear anything but he suspected that the base was about to get busy. Drew sighed and rolled his eyes, giving Rick an amused and annoyed look. He held up three fingers and began dramatically counting down. A moment after he hit one, an alert sounded that Rick could hear.
Drew shook his head, "gotta go."
"Yeah... sounds like it," Rick said and he tried to keep the worry out of his voice. Apparently, he failed.
Drew gave him a reassuring smile, "just wounded. Going to be a long day. Talk later."
Then the feed was cut. Drew was gone, off to perform whatever duties he was needed for. Rick felt a wave of loneliness wash over him. He wanted so badly to have Drew here with him. Not just so he knew the other was safe, but to be able to hold him, to look at him and talk to him without interruptions or having to be discreet. Hell, he wanted to be able to steal his shirts….
"How the hell had Drew handled this?" He mumbled rubbing his eyes thinking about his previous deployments. He looked at the article he had been reading for class and groaned. He knew there was no way in hell he was going to be able to read this, not now, but he also knew he was going to try anyway.