"Nines, another letter!" Nines looked up, still listening to the steady thud of Sixty's heart. It sounded good and strong. He'd be able to head back out to the front again within the day. Markus held out the envelope to him. It was different from usual. It seemed cleaner. Less crumpled. What's this? A courier stamp? Couriers wouldn't bring mail all the way to the front, but it had likely been delivered it to the nearest town. That meant it could have left England as little as three days ago. Nines took it with thanks and turned it over. He was unsurprised to find Chloe's neat writing. But why the added expense of a courier?
"Well? Go ahead and open it," Sixty encouraged with a grin as he shoved his shoulder. Nines nodded absently, suspicious of the contents. He doubted it could be anything good if it had been sent with such urgency. He sat on the edge of Sixty's bed, expression grave as he read Chloe's letter. His jaw tightened as he read it a second time. "What is it?" Sixty's grin dropped as he watched. He knew Nines well enough to know when something was wrong, and he'd clearly just gotten a dose of bad news. Nines steeled himself to answer. He wasn't one for showing emotion like this while on duty.
"Gavin's sick…He took a fall from his horse during a storm." Sixty's eyes widened at that. Falling from a horse wasn't always a big deal, but for Gavin? He'd already lost one leg. "He's fine, physically; just a sprained wrist and perhaps a cracked rib…The real problem is the fever. They believe he was unconscious in the rain for some time. He was delirious when Elijah found him, and has been sleeping since their return…" He couldn't help the creeping negative thoughts. What if he didn't wake up? A fever could be dangerous, especially when combined with other issues. His physical injuries. His fragile mental state.
"He's in a hospital, dummy. He'll be fine!" Sixty seemed a lot surer of that than Nines felt. If it wasn't that serious, Chloe wouldn't have couriered a letter all the way to the frontline. He sighed in resignation. There was nothing he could do, whatever the case. Sixty was right about one thing. Gavin was in a hospital. One of the best. There were nursing staff available around the clock, and he knew both Elijah and Chloe would do everything they could to see him through. I just wish I could be there…"Put in for emergency leave or some shit!" Nines huffed at the suggestion.
"We only just got back, and I've taken more leave than I'm owed already…Besides, it wouldn't be considered. It's not like Gavin and I are family or share any recognised affiliations." Sixty knew what he meant. He scowled at the thought. They'd been relatively lucky within their circles that people didn't care, didn't acknowledge it, or were too scared to open their mouths. Openly acknowledging it could start all kinds of shit. None of it good.
"Can't Elijah summon you again?" Nines' expression softened a little. He appreciated Sixty's suggestions, but there was really nothing to be done.
"I'm quite certain Elijah called in all his favours last time…Besides, with rumours of another assault coming and the lack of reinforcements, they can't afford to let able-bodied men leave." There probably wasn't anything that he could do there that the nurses weren't already doing. Nursing a fever wasn't the same as trying to rebuild Gavin's confidence and self-worth. So long as he ate, drank, and rested well, he should pull through. He couldn't say as much for his mental state, but hopefully the delirium would clear with the fever.
"The coming assault is even more reason for you to get out of here! I don't want my little brother getting killed, not on my watch!" Nines softened a little at Sixty's caution. They were close. All three of them. Sixty and Connor shared a somewhat unique bond as twins, but he knew they both doted on him as their younger brother. They'd always been overprotective. They'd been against him joining up in the first place, but conscription had started less than two months later, so they'd had no choice. Being part of the war effort wasn't a bad thing, of course, but he'd never been military minded. Luckily, with his medical knowledge, he'd been drafted for the medical corps. His job could be dangerous, but he was mostly out of the fighting.
"What would you have me do? Go AWOL?" Nines scoffed at the very idea. Not only was it considered a shameful act, but he could be executed for the crime. Despite it being shameful, he well and truly understood the men who ran. He sympathised. He understood the horrors they had to face. Most men understood. That was why the punishment was so severe. If the men were simply jailed or allowed to leave, there'd be no men left.
"As if I'd be dumb enough to suggest that!" Sixty had heard about what happened to British deserters. Scared boys shot at dawn by firing squad. He didn't know of any American soldiers who'd gone through it yet. None in their regiment. The rule was the same though. Court martial and possibly execution. It wasn't a risk Sixty was willing to take with his little brother. Technically, he didn't intend to suggest anything. He wouldn't suggest it because he knew Nines would never agree to it. Not in a million years. Nines leaned over and rested his shoulder against Sixty's. He appreciated the concern.
"I'll just have to hold on a little longer…Hopefully, the new recruits we were promised will make it before the next assault begins." He wouldn't hold his breath on that front. He wasn't sure what the holdup was, but they'd been waiting for months. Was there a delay in flying new men across? Were they quietly planning on giving up this front? If they were giving up, they would have pulled us back by now, wouldn't they? There had to be more men arriving in France. He just didn't know why none of them were being sent their way. Is there a bigger assault in the works?
"At this point, I'm pretty sure our requests for aid are being tossed in the trash!" Sixty scoffed as he scowled at his knees. He couldn't believe they hadn't heard anything. Just a simple order to standby and that more men would be there soon. How long were they supposed to wait? They'd barely had enough men to hold them off last time! If they were assaulted again, they were finished. They should be giving us the order to pull back! We can't fucking hold this point indefinitely!
"I hope not…" Hope was pretty much the only thing any of them could do.
"Hoping isn't good enough! Lover-boy needs you a lot more than we do!" Nines was pretty sure that was a lie. Their line needed all the medical staff it could get. In fact, some of their own men had come down with the fever as well. Luckily, it seemed to be running its course. Many of those who'd been ravished by it a few days ago had fully recovered. They weren't out of the woods by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a start. "You're leaving!" Nines raised an eyebrow as Sixty jumped to his feet. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but he liked it even less as he looked at him with an almost feral glint in his eye.
"Sixty, what do you-Hey!" Nines pushed himself off the bed as Sixty's hand whipped out to grab his wrist. Nines held him back with his free arm as Sixty's other hand joined the first. The grip on his wrist was firm, almost painful. They struggled a little, both evenly matched when it came to physical strength. Nines felt his heart racing. Sixty had never turned on him like this before. He'd never dreamed in a million years that he would. Nines stumbled as Sixty pulled him closer, almost throwing him off balance in surprise. He caught his chin on Sixty's shoulder, which somehow helped him stay on his feet.
"Sorry, little brother, but you're going back to England." Nines barely had time to register the apology before a searing pain blinded his senses. He swore he heard a crack. As his knees hit the ground, he couldn't tell if he was screaming or crying. Sixty's hands remained on his sides, safely guiding him to the grassy floor of the tent. His vision was blurred by tears as he opened his eyes. He sobbed, cradling his hand against his chest, almost flinching away as Sixty moved to touch it. He at least looked like he felt bad as he reached up to wipe the tears away.
"Nines? Sixty? What happened?" Connor demanded in shock as he hurried into the tent. Nines couldn't even speak through the pain. He opened his mouth and tried, but all that came out was another pained wail. Connor was there in an instant, pushing Sixty aside as he dropped to his knees and reached out for Nines' left arm. "Here, let me see-let me see. Shhhhhh, I know-I know, I'm sorry…" Connor was careful as he unbuttoned and pushed the sleeve out of the way first. His brow pinched sympathetically as he took in the crooked joint. His wrist was broken. The surrounding skin was already showing signs of inflammation as he teased it straight.
"Nines! What happened?" Simon demanded as he entered, having heard the pained howl Nines let loose as Connor moved the joint. "Shit! We need to splint this ASAP!" He could tell it was a bad break. Just touching it hurt, and the skin was already swelling. It was hard to encourage Nines to his feet. He was in so much pain. Simon hauled him up by his right arm, murmuring apologies as he whined and stumbled. He was shaking. He'd never felt such pain before. It gave him a new respect for Gavin and how he'd handled recovery. He'd only broken his wrist. He couldn't imagine the pain of it being torn clean off.
"I don't know. He was like this when I got here," Connor replied anxiously as he followed Simon further into the tent. Simon had Nines sit on a chair beside an empty cot as he gathered supplies. They weren't exactly set up for long-term recovery, but he could at least set the bone in place for the trip to the nearest hospital. They likely wouldn't cast it anyway. Not at the rate it was swelling. He had Connor help, steadying Nines' arm and moving his wrist into the right position. He needed the bones straight, hoping they'd properly align.
"Alright, bite down on this for me," Simon instructed as he slotted a small wooden bit between Nines' teeth. Nines nodded, taking in a few shaky breaths through his nose. He closed his eyes in anticipation, knowing it was going to be bad. His eyes shot open at the sudden tug and jerk as Simon straightened his wrist. "No-no-no! Don't fight it-don't fight it!" Nines whimpered around the bit as he clamped his mouth shut. It was hard. He wanted to bend his wrist and curl away from Simon's insistent fingers. He felt the thin wooden slats press in on either side of his wrist, holding it steady. Simon used two small strips of bandage to tie in place at first before wrapping his arm and hand securely.
"Nines, what happened?" Connor asked softly as he crouched in front of him. Nines removed the bit with a sigh of something that was almost relief. It still hurt, but at least with the bone held in place, it wasn't a continuous, searing ache. He did his best to keep his arm and hand still, knowing the smallest twitch would set off the pain again. Connor waited patiently, wiping his tears away with his handkerchief. Despite the sting of betrayal, Nines was reluctant to speak. He was sure the consequences of Sixty's actions would be severe.
"Did you…have an accident?" Simon tried not to sound suspicious. He knew the left was Nines' least dominant hand. It was extremely common for men to injure themselves on purpose to escape service, but he'd never thought Nines the type. As a medic, his job was a lot safer than that of the regular troops. Connor's lips thinned at the question. He had to admit, it seemed odd for Nines to get such a serious injury so suddenly.
"I did it." Sixty was grim but unapologetic as he piped up behind them. Simon looked around quickly. A couple of men were still in the cots close by. They were feverish, but not delirious as they watched the exchange with interest. It was rare for such excitement to happen in the medical camp. He cursed inwardly at Sixty's carelessness. They could hardly fix or cover this up with others watching. Connor pushed to his feet and turned on Sixty furiously.
"You did?" He looked ready to punch him out right there. He likely would have if not for Simon's gentle hand on his shoulder. More fighting wouldn't solve anything. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind was one of Markus' favourite sayings. It was also one he knew North got sick of hearing. Sixty folded his arms defensively. He seemed pleased with himself, but also somewhat subdued. His lips thinned guiltily as he met Connor's scathing gaze. "Why did you do it?"
"Don't even pretend you haven't thought about it!" Connor scowled at the accusation. He'd never hurt Nines. He was their little brother! They were supposed to protect him and keep him safe.
"He'll be out of action for two months, if not longer!" That just seemed to make Sixty even more smug. Nines watched the exchange somewhat meekly. He didn't want to defend Sixty, but he also didn't want them to fight. He knew Sixty had the best intentions, though he had a warped way of following through.
"Precisely, and since he's out of action, he may as well go to a proper medical facility to heal. One with specialist doctors available around the clock." Connor closed his eyes with a heated sigh. He was sending Nines back to England. He'd already pretty much figured that out, but why now? "It's a win-win! He gets out of France, and he gets to make sure lover-boy doesn't kick the bucket." Connor was a little lost on that last point.
"Gavin is sick." Nines' quiet interjection somehow made all the pieces fall into place. Even Simon looked a little more understanding at the news. "I could probably stay in town and return within the month though." Much as he appreciated Sixty's effort on some level, he wasn't about to just abandon his post. Not if he could stay and help. Simon stepped in and laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as Connor gave him a warm smile.
"Not a chance. With a break like that, it's likely to take more than two months, and even once the bone itself has fused, you'll need to be able to use it without issue before throwing yourself back into the fray…Go to England. You can heal anywhere, so it may as well be somewhere out of the thick of it." Despite the situation, Nines couldn't help the little smile that crossed his lips. He was going back. He was going to see Gavin again. His chest warmed at the thought. Connor sighed as he regarded Sixty. Nines leaving was all well and good, but what about him?
"You'll be lucky if you don't get shot for this!"
"What would be the point of that? It's not like I was going AWOL, and they can hardly justify killing off able-bodied men! Just hand me a rifle and send me over the top! It'll do the job just as quick." Connor scowled at the retort, but he was pretty sure Sixty was right on that front. Better to lose a single medic than both a medic and a willing line soldier. The Banshee was widely known as an object of fear for both sides. It made little sense to get rid of one of their main assets. He just couldn't stand the fact that Sixty was so smug and shameless about it.
"Come on, I'll help you pack and get the transport ready. You'll want to get that properly set as soon as possible," Simon said as he patted Nines' shoulder. Although the makeshift splint was good, it would be even better to get a proper fitted one from a proper hospital. "Connor, I'll leave the reporting of this to you, alright?" Connor nodded his agreement. He'd report it to Captain Allen, of course. He was Sixty's direct superior, and also the one who'd probably go the easiest on him. Sixty seemed to know it, too. He smirked smugly as Connor scowled at him.