withtheoldbreed | d-day + 52 ✯ video

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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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It's starting to feel like it's going around. [Geez.

Also, you don't look so good. But he figures you know that, and pointing it out is... well, pointless.] He'll come out of it. Even if it takes a while.

I can give you a hand, if you still need it.

I'd appreciate it, sir.

[Gene's probably gotten a tiny bit better at not sir-ing Steve to death (although he still does it, and sticks to Cap or Captain Rogers rather than Steve), but this feels easier when he's still feeling a little shaky and weird.]

[If it makes the kid feel better, Steve can handle being called sir, or any of the above, honestly. And he really can't blame him, right now. He looks pretty shaken.] Then consider me your personal moving truck. Which cabin is he in, I'll be there in a minute.

Deck eight, room nineteen. [And he's going to thank him, seriously (Sledge isn't totally incapable of dragging heavy things around, but Snaf's dead weight is definitely going to mean dragging him to the infirmary if Gene does it himself, and that doesn't seem like a great idea), but he has another question to ask, first.]

Does it usually happen like this? Lots of people all at once, I mean.

Got it. [That's just down one level, so he'll be there in a lot less than a minute. In fact, he's already getting up to move.]

It's... I'd say it's random, but sometimes it really feels like it's not. [He shakes his head.] But it does seem to happen in groups, sometimes. Small groups, though.

[Well, that's marginally comforting. Gene nods once.] Understood, sir.

[He twists out of frame for a moment and the hand holding the comm drops down to his lap for a moment, giving Steve a view of the weird is-that-actually-timber-and-canvas ceiling while he checks his friend's pulse and breathing again. Stupid, nervous reaction, probably, but there it is.]

[He sat up straighter at the announcement, and looks oddly rigid, now, as though he's forgotten to move his limbs the way people expect them to move. He wasn't expecting this, somehow; even though he's heard all about comas, he didn't expect them to happen to his inmate.]

Yeah. Yeah, of course, it's better.

I'll be right over, right, don't move.

We're in the infirmary. [And while his voice still sounds kind of hollow and weird, he does manage to force something like humor and life into the second part of what he says.] Don't think we're goin' anywhere.

[So Kieren can come up whenever, basically. 8(]

Yeah. [His heart drops into his stomach.] Yeah, okay.

[He doesn't know what to say beyond that, so he just hangs up and comes to the infirmary. His footfalls feel astonishingly heavy, like his limbs are deader than usual; his face doesn't get drawn anymore, but he just looks tired, heavy-hearted, as though he doesn't know what to do.]

[Which is fair enough: he has no idea. What does a warden do without his inmate?]

[Poking his head into the infirmary, he spots Gene quickly enough, waves and comes in.] All right?

[It's a stupid question, but he doesn't know what else to ask.]

[Gene's sitting in a chair next to the bed Captain Rogers had put Snafu in, and while he doesn't exactly look happier or pleased when he makes eye contact with the other warden, he does perk up a little bit. Or, at least, he's a little more alert as he considers the question, and maybe it's something of a weird relief to see that Kieren looks tired and worried, too.

No, Gene's not alright, but the reason he's not is kind of stupid because Snaf's going to be fine, the nightmare he'd had was just that - a nightmare - and it's fucking stupid to be feeling torn up inside about any of it. Right? Nothing he can do about it, anyway.

So he lies.]

Fine. [He scrubs a hand over his eyes, trying to wake himself up.] Thanks for coming.

Yeah. Yeah, of course.

[He forces out a tired laugh.]

Not as though I have anywhere else to be right now, right? Just got to stick with my inmate.

[Who's currently lying in a coma on the bed, unresponsive to anything at all for who knows how long. Kieren sits in the nearest chair, stares at Snafu for a long moment, and then just . . . buries his head in his hands.]

[He can't do this.]

[The name doesn't really give her pause, though she doesn't know either Gene or the man in question. It's that word again, and the air of defeat around this guy, that spurs Letty into replying.]

What's all this about comas? What's going on? Are you two alright?

I'm guessing you've made it to the infirmary by now.

[Gene doesn't say anything else - what can he say? - looking back at Snafu and trying not to think too hard about the nightmare, how badly panicked it had left him, how it was worse to see Snaf unconscious and unmoving right after, but the flash of motion from the other warden catches his attention, and he frowns, worried.

(It makes him think about Jay, and the thought doesn't exactly help him feel any less homesick and strange. Strange, too, to be anything close to homesick for Peleliu.)]

Kieren?

I don't know. [He doesn't. None of this makes any sense, and he's too tired to try figuring it out right now, if he even can. All he knows is that his buddy's unresponsive and apparently this is normal, not a big deal.] I guess it just happens, sometimes.

We're alright, ma'am.

[He still sounds a little too hollow to really believe that, though.]

Edited 2015-01-06 18:38 (UTC)

Yes. I might be up here for a while.

[There's no reply after this for a good 10 minutes or so. Between one no-smoking zone and another (and when did they start banning cigarettes from hospitals, anyway?) he has to get his nicotine fix.

Eventually, though, he pushes open the door to the infirmary. He's holding a plastic-wrapped plate in one hand, and when he walks up to Gene he can see that there's toast, eggs and cheese on there. He'd put a plate aside at the end of his shift in the kitchens, so all of it's still lukewarm, at least.]

Figured you mighta skipped breakfast. It ain't much, but here.

[Gene might have taken the lack of response as Jimmy just being busy, or trying to figure out what to say, not a sign that he was on his way up or anything. That means when he spots the other guy coming into the infirmary, he brightens with surprise, some of the tired deadness around his eyes pulled back or pushed away. He even manages a surprised smile which quickly turns to grateful as he's offered the plate and heard the explanation.

(And for the record, he's surprised by the no smoking policy, too. Slightly frustrated by it right now, honestly, because if he's going to need a cigarette sometime, it's now.)]

Thanks. [He peels the wrap off and almost immediately starts eating, maybe a hair less enthusiastically than he should be. It's good even if it's not hot - the novelty of having access to this kind of food has absolutely not worn off yet - and if this were happening under different circumstances, he might be basically shoveling it down his face, but it's not, so he goes a little slow and chews almost thoughtfully.

Really, though, he's kind of just pleased and surprised to see him here at all.]

You figured out how to cook eggs?

[Marginally, yeah. But sometimes it just helps to not be alone in something - even something horrible.

Steve would probably be a mess, internally, at least, if Bucky ever lapsed into a coma. So he can't blame Sledge for double-checking (or triple-, quadruple-, or quintuple-checking) that pulse - and he's on his way now. Give him about thirty seconds, tops, and he'll just shut down the communicator and knock on the door.] It's me.

[If Jimmy wasn't slightly scared of everyone who worked in the infirmary, he would've found a way to get Gene some smokes. As it stands, though, everyone there seems to have some sort of magical powers, and it kinda freaks him out.

He pulls up a chair, then shoots a look at Snafu in his hospital bed. It's not that the guy's usually very active, but this is different, it's not even sleep, really. It's enough to make him want to shift uncomfortably, but that would probably freak Gene out a lot more. So he doesn't, and he quickly looks back at Gene and gives him a small smile.]

I guess so. But don't think I'm gonna bring you breakfast every morning, Gene.

[It only takes a couple seconds for Sledge to get up and open the door, holding it open so before Steve steps inside, he gets a good view of the version of the shack on Pavuvu that's apparently the closest thing to a home that Snafu had before getting here.

Depressing as hell to think about, but on the plus side, there are no rats or land crabs now!]

Thank you for coming. [Gene still looks tired and pale, but maybe a little less shaky. It helps, having something concrete to focus on. He steps away from the door and stands next to the cot Snafu's passed out on - shirtless, but fortunately otherwise clothed - frowning down at him.] I'd do it myself, but I figured this might be easier.

[The other marine's more scrawny than not, but Gene isn't sure he'd be able to carry a hundred and forty pounds of dead weight when he's feeling kind of shaky and disoriented.]

I'm just--

[--he says into his hands, and then sits up and pushes his hair back away from his face, all one fluid gesture of despair and futility.]

Worried about him. I'm worried - but I know, comas happen all the time, people come back from them, it's nothing, it's probably nothing.

[It's got to be nothing. It probably won't even last long. Right? He looks sideways at Gene, helpless.]

[Gene honestly doesn't know how to help. He's nervous and unhappy about it, too, and he's just as new at this as the other guy is, so he doesn't know what to say.

Well, except maybe one thing.]

You can't dwell on it, Kieren. [It comes out a little like a tired, defeated sigh.] He'll be okay.

[Which would likely sound more convincing if Gene sounded anything close to believing that this is okay himself, but. He's trying?]

What's the point of you workin' in the kitchen, then? [Gene teases, smiling, and it only looks a little tired and wounded. Honestly, this was kind of a huge surprise, and a good one, because sure Gene's got people he's friendly with here, but he's feeling the absence of people like Burgie and Jay pretty hard right now, and having someone checking in on him like this was just totally unexpected.

Even better that it's Jimmy, because they're supposed to be a team, here. Maybe it's a sign that they really actually are making some progress, however small.

(Really, he's just glad he's been assigned to someone who's really fouled up in a lot of ways, but still a good person in others.)]

Thanks.

Right. I know. I know. He'll be okay. It'll be fine.

[He runs his hands through his hair one more time, then looks to Gene. Really looks at him, at the bags under his eyes, at the way he's sitting.]

[Something isn't right here.]

Gene. Not trying to be rude. But you look like shit.

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