Chapter Text
“They got me!”
Later, he would cringe at the foolishness of his kneejerk exclamation. What a cliché reaction.
But perhaps that entire moment had been a study in foolishness. David thought he knew pain. The ultimate arrogance for a soldier who’d never been hit.
Well, he couldn’t say that anymore. The bullet had shot through his leg like a bolt of lightning. Cleanly, at least, for which he was grateful. But the burn remained.
Not just the burn, either. His ears were ringing. This wasn’t terribly concerning in itself. Just one of the side effects of battle. Of all the time he’d spent pondering war and its moral dilemmas, he hadn’t really given much thought to how loud it would be. To think he’d once been bothered by the sounds of so many other men so close as he tried to fall asleep in the barracks! Now he dozed off to the melody of gunfire in the distance. And it was never quite as distant as he would have liked.
So David had gotten used to his eardrums struggling to catch up to the end of a fight. But he’d thrown himself back into the safety of that ditch pretty roughly in his haste to get away. He must have hit something pretty hard, because his head was throbbing. All combined, it made for a rather uncomfortable condition.
But then a pair of medics walked by carrying Dukeman’s body on a stretcher, and any complaints he may have had about his own discomfort died in his throat.
One of the best things about the aftermath of a battle? No one expected you to talk much. So he got away with a few vague nods as Roe wrapped a bandage around his wounded calf and hobbled obediently into the Jeep headed for the aid station.
…………
It should have been more of a relief to be back in England. He’d been in the aid station for all of about ten minutes before it had been packed up. The company was moving out again. All the men still in need of medical care had been packed up as well and then shipped off to a proper hospital.
That had been two months ago now.
Aside from the occasional pull in the muscle, David’s leg had long since healed. He’d seen soldiers who’d been wounded much more seriously come and go during his time here. So an outside observer might find it a little strange that he was still here in the rehabilitation wing…
Movement near the doorway to the ward caught his attention, and he watched the answer to that question start to make her rounds, collecting the dinner dishes. David thanked her and they exchanged smiles but said nothing else just now. Not while she was on the hospital’s time. Their time, the highlight of his evenings, would come later.
His eyes drifted back down to the book in his hands, but they didn’t settle on the words. He worked hard to suppress the chuckle rising up in his throat. He did his best not to attract attention here and, for the most part, the other men left him alone. As far as he was aware, they’d successfully avoided any gossip of where he disappeared to each night. But it really was a bit ridiculous. Even with his reputation as an academic, he doubted anyone would believe he snuck off with the pretty nurse each night… to study.
If David had experienced a new kind of pain upon being shot, he felt a new brand of fear about a week later.
He awoke one day in his hospital bed to find the ringing in his ears was finally, totally gone. But so was something else.
He’d taken to sleeping on his left side. It was an easy habit to adapt to. He’d rolled onto his bad leg a few times the first couple nights, jolting himself awake.
This particular morning, he lifted his head from the pillow and was struck by the strangest sensation… David had learned his love of the ocean early. He’d had many an ear infection growing up. (Part of the reason, he suspected, his dad had pushed him so hard to get into sailing. A way to enjoy the sea without being in it, exactly.) So he knew what it felt like to walk around waterlogged.
This… wasn’t quite that. It wasn’t a pressure, exactly. His left ear didn’t feel clogged. There was just… nothing there.
There was nothing there.
David sat up abruptly, not even feeling how it jostled his wounded leg. His heart was beating like he’d just been in another battle, throbbing in time with the headache that was still making appearances on and off. His hand flew up to his ear. He waved his fingers around it—lightly at first, then a little more frantically. He smacked himself upside the head with his own palm and then swallowed hard. Nothing.
He settled back against the pillows, heart still pounding. He swallowed again, worked hard to control his breathing. He knew they’d be bringing around breakfast soon, and he had zero appetite.
He was deaf in one ear. That was… a ticket home.
To his own surprise, the thought increased his budding nausea tenfold.
War had not endeared itself to him since becoming more than a theoretical issue to debate in class. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d been perfectly happy to have an excuse to get off the frontlines, even if it came with a hole in his leg. But to go out like this…
You could say what you liked about David’s privileged upbringing. He wasn’t naïve about it, really. He was perfectly capable of brushing it off when the other guys would rag on him for his expensive education.
Maybe it would be hard to explain to someone who wasn’t living it but… That ribbing was part of what made him theirs.
And he was theirs. He’d enlisted when he didn’t have to. He’d put in the work. He’d fought to be transferred to the most brutally competent unit in the whole damn army. He belonged to Easy Company like he’d never belonged to anything in his life.
He’d been looking for a… vacation, not a retirement. The thought of going back to a cushy life in the States while the best friends he’d ever had continued to risk their lives…
He had to get out of here.
The panic must have shown on his face, because the nurse paused after setting down his breakfast tray. Her honey blond curls bobbed around her face as she straightened back up. Her voice was gentle as she asked, “How’s your leg this morning? Any pain?”
He tried not to focus on how her words were oddly muted, only coming in on one side, but it sent a shiver down his spine. He cleared his throat, tried to keep his own voice steady as he answered, “It’s fine. Thank you.”
She didn’t look like she really believed him, but she smiled and nodded and moved on. His mind was so frazzled, it didn’t fully register until she was gone that her accent had been American.
…………
That nurse would end up being his saving grace, though he didn’t realize it at first. He ought to have recognized the glint in her eyes. This was a girl who didn’t let go once she got a hold on something.
Someone else was on lunch duty, but she was back to change his bandages that afternoon.
“Looks good,” she told him, prodding the skin around the wound. He didn’t bother to hold back his grimace, but she smiled. “It’ll be sore for a while, but it’s healing nicely on its own. The doctor gets to make the final call, but you’ll probably be moved to the rehab ward tomorrow.”
“That’s great,” he answered, but there was no enthusiasm in his tone, and she picked up on it immediately.
“Everything else okay?” She had leaned over the bed to lay a palm against his forehead before he could even answer. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she pulled back with a little frown. “Actually, I usually work in the rehabilitation unit. I’m only covering here today because Judy’s sick.”
At his questioning look in response to this seemingly random tangent, she explained, “We do our best to keep everything sterile, but there’s no place a cold spreads faster than a hospital.”
“It’s nothing like that,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
“I see…” She ran her eyes over him in a way that made him want to shrink back, but he held his ground. And was more confused than ever when she was the one to drop her gaze first, an embarrassed flush spreading across her face. “I can, ah… I can get a doctor instead, if you’d like. If it’s something of a more, um… personal matter?”
He blinked blankly at her before taking a glance down at himself. He’d done his best to face her head-on once the exam was done, all the while trying to keep his good ear turned her way, so as not to miss anything and arouse suspicion. He supposed that did leave his posture a little awkward… Maybe led her to believe he was trying not to put pressure on his—Oh, Jesus.
Within a second, his face was redder than hers. “No, no! That’s not… Everything’s fine, I swear.”
There was a moment of awkward silence… before a short peal of laughter escaped from the nurse. She quickly brought a hand up to stifle the sound. David shifted self-consciously, but it succeeded in breaking the tension. “Sorry! I know it’s uncomfortable. It’s just my job to ask. I didn’t really think you were the type…”
“Oh?” His cheeks still burned.
She smiled kindly. “The other nurses told me you were one of the nice ones. That I wouldn’t have to worry about any wandering hands when I passed by, at least.”
She shrugged a little. A what can you do? sort of gesture. He grimaced all the same. Even one ear down, he heard bits of the harassment some of the other guys on the ward threw the nurses’ way. It was enough to embarrass him sometimes; he didn’t know how the women put up with it day after day.
Maybe that borrowed shame was what caused him to reach out when the nurse began to pack up her supplies, his checkup complete for the day. “Hey, um… Sorry, I realized I never… I’m David.”
David Webster had been a literature major back at Harvard. He’d been told he had a way with words. You’d never know it listening to the awkward sludge that had just come out of his mouth. But the nurse just smiled again and held out a hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, David. I’m Bridget.”