withtheoldbreed | d-day + 52 ✯ video

[It's relatively early in the morning when Sledge clicks on his video feed, and he looks tired, maybe even exhausted. It's also obvious he's not in his own cabin - the room behind him looks more like a shack, and although it might not be as clear, he's sitting on the floor, half leaning against the legs of a cot. One of Snafu's arms is visible, hanging limply off the side of the cot like he's just asleep.]

... Snafu's in a coma. [The word sits uncomfortably in his mouth, and it kind of shows in his face. He's read about barge comas obviously, thanks to Chromie's welcome packet, but it's one thing to read about it, another to try shaking your buddy awake and not be able to, no matter how hard you try.

He takes a breath and steels himself, trying to push it back and get what needs to get done, done.

(Except his eyes still look pretty dead, but that's not really anything new.)]

I'm gonna need a hand getting him to the infirmary.

[Private to Kieren]

I thought it'd be better than just leavin' him here. [It's what the pamphlet suggested, anyway, and he sort of feels more comfortable leaving his friend with people who can monitor him and make sure he doesn't get worse (if that's even possible?), but he still sounds uncertain. Like maybe this - making decisions about his friend's well being - is overstepping.

Which is weird to think about someone you've pretty much been physically stuck with for over a month, but here we are.]

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[He stays silent for a while, letting Gene eat his breakfast in quiet. He drapes an arm over the back of his chair, leans back and shoots some looks over at Snafu. It still creeps him out a little, considering this is the first time he's seen someone in a coma, but he's getting used to it. Tells himself it's just like being asleep, and it'll pass, anyway.

When Gene's done he nods at him, satisfied.]

I'll stay here if you need a smoke.

[That's more or less what's keeping Gene from being totally broken up about it. It'll pass. He's not hurt or anything, and it'll pass. There's no real reason to worry.

(Really, he'd be worried if things had been different, but he's more shaken up having discovered it on the heels of a nightmare. He has them a lot, about pretty much everything, but most often he's in the dark, with someone sneaking into his foxhole to stab him or Snafu or Burgie to death, and he's fallen asleep on watch and doesn't stop it in time. Waking up on the heels of one of those and then not being able to wake Snaf up was kind of terrifying, even if his rational brain has kicked back in.)

He sets the plate aside and gives Jimmy another sort of surprised, grateful look.]

You sure?

[He's not sure why he offered; maybe it's because Gene reminds him of himself, after his surgery in Verdun. He'd been in the trenches for months on end, and suddenly he'd been out. But he couldn't feel happiness about it, because he was alone, because he was alive when he hadn't expected to be, because he was alive when so many others weren't. He recognizes Gene's surprised look when he gets good food, recognizes his nightmares. It was a long time ago, but he'll always get that.

Or maybe it's just because Gene looks like shit, and hospitals only make the sick feel better. Either way, he jerks his head towards the door.]

You ain't gettin' one of mine, though.

[That gets a soft, brief laugh from Gene. The back and forth feels familiar, comfortable, and if he can have Sid or one of his other buddies here right now - excluding, of course, the one currently unconscious on the bed - this is a good temporary substitute.

(Or maybe not, considering he's already been here for two months, and that's a lot longer than he spent on Peleliu.)]

Got my own. [And to prove the point that Jimmy already knows, he slips his hand into his jacket pocket and produces a pack and a lighter. He pushes himself out of his chair, already feeling less off balance and weird.]

I'll be right back.

[He doesn't smile so much as twitch his mouth up, then nods. He's pleased that Gene actually takes the offer: it's not that they're equals all of a sudden, but Gene needs him a little, here. It makes him feel like maybe he's not just some sap Gene has to take under his wing so that he can get his deal.

When Gene comes back Jimmy's taken out his trench knife and he's idly spinning it around in his hands, twirling it a little before sliding his fingers through the handle.]

[Although it does take a couple minutes for him to come back, Gene doesn't really dawdle. He takes his time, tries to shake off the last fragments of discomfort and fear from the nightmare, but the food and people helping him out has soothed away a lot of it, leaving him mostly just feeling worn out and overwhelmed.

But that's nothing new, so it's easy enough to finish the cigarette and head back into the infirmary. Putting one foot in front of the other, breathing, blinking, continuing to exist, all of that's totally manageable despite the sense of weight on his shoulders.

Jimmy gets another small smile - and Gene doesn't seem overly concerned by him playing with the knife - before he sits down again.]

Thanks. [Again.] You don't have to stay. [The way he says it, it's absolutely obvious that this isn't a dismissal. Jimmy doesn't have to spend the next couple hours sitting in the infirmary with Gene if he doesn't want to, but Gene also wouldn't turn down the company if he felt like sticking around.

Not that Gene's certain he'll be anything even close to good company right now, but he still doesn't mind the idea of having someone around.]

[When Gene returns he slips the knife back into his left boot, but he otherwise doesn't react until Gene's back in his seat.]

Sure. It's not a big thing. [He looks Gene over, trying to get an impression of how his Warden is doing. He's mostly satisfied-- Gene looks fed, less haunted, less tired, at least by a small amount. So he gets up, albeit with some difficulty, thanks to his leg. The long hours on his feet making breakfast haven't exactly agreed with the nerve damage, and it's like he can feel the screws in his bones, sometimes.]

I'm gonna take a shower, drop by the library. Want me to bring you anything?

[He somehow feels like he can, and should help out, here. But he's not going to do it by staying here.]

[Gene's smile gets a little dopey, maybe even shy.] Wouldn't mind a book. [If Jimmy doesn't mind, anyway.

And he'd leave it at that, except obviously he noticed that the old injury's still giving Jimmy issues and it makes him think of the conversation they'd had on deck.]

You talk to anyone about your leg?

[It's a casual question with zero expectation: if Jimmy wants to, he can and should, if he doesn't, Gene isn't going to force him to. He's just curious.]

[He nods, starting to move out of the infirmary when Gene asks him about his leg. He shakes his head, the fingers of his right hand twitching against his thigh, like touching his leg would make a difference.]

Not yet. I will. [He says it to at least reassure Gene of this: he doesn't have to worry about Jimmy right now. He knows that's what Gene does, sees it in his face. The kid's got enough on his plate right now, and his leg's low priority right now, even for Jimmy.]

[That's good to hear. Gene's not sure if the doctors here can fix what's been done, but honestly, they might be able to. Whether or not Jimmy wants that fixed - like how Gene hadn't wanted Dillon to fix his Bible, because it's a reminder of where he was and what he's been through - is another story, although a leg's a lot different from a battered little New Testament.

Either way, Jimmy gets another smile before he turns away to leave, and then he just settles in to keep watch until he feels comfortable leaving his buddy in here unconscious and unresponsive.]

d-day + 52 ✯ video

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