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Eugene inhaled a draw of smoke from his last cigarette, savoring the little flicker of warmth against the frigid air of Bastogne. He was tired, the kind of tired that runs through your whole body right down to your bones. It had been a rough couple of weeks in the snow, a stark contrast from his home in the Louisiana bayou as the boys of Easy Company worked hard to hold the line.
He sat back against a tree, its rough bark digging into his back as he let out a breath of smoke, observing the men around the campfire crack jokes and eat suspicious-looking blocks of food. Gene preferred the distance, secretly worried of becoming too close to his squad mates in case he lost one of them, and the men of Easy Company respected that—well, almost all the men.
“Hey Doc.”
Eugene snapped out of his thoughts, looking up to find Heffron staring down at him with a mischievous grin. “Everything okay Edward?” Gene said in a confused tone, his Cajun drawl prominent.
“Again Doc? Only the nuns call me Edward.” Babe said, letting out an amused huff and sliding down next to Gene, their shoulders touching. “You’re always over here, thinkin’ ‘bout God knows what. It’s too cold to be away from the fire.”
“I’m fine,” Gene mumbled with a long sigh.
“Well I guess I’ll have to stay right here then, you know, to share body heat and what not.” Babe gave a dumb grin, Eugene rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. Gene had gotten closer to Heffron over the past few weeks, their foxholes being next to each other and Babe’s relentless attempts at conversation annoyed him at first, but now he realized he started to like the constant pestering.
Gene opened his mouth to say a witty comeback when a distant noise cut through the air. “Medic!” He shot up, dropping his cigarette and almost knocking Heffron over as he looked toward the direction of the noise. “Woah, Gene, what—“
“Help!” echoed through the trees and Gene took off sprinting, grabbing his medical bag from nearby as he ran without a second thought.
“Medic!”
Gene ran quicker, but something was nagging at his mind; he didn’t hear any gun shots and he was getting pretty far from the line. Another cry resonated across the forest and he quickly pushed down the thought, skidding to a stop in a snowing clearing where the sound seemed to come from. He looked around, labored puffs of breath visible in the cold air. Why was it so quiet?
Something caught his eye, in the distance, far through the trees was a glint. He squinted in confusion and walked a little closer when a loud snap sounded from behind him. Turning sharply, he took a step back only to see Heffron standing a few feet away, his hand on his knees as he struggled for breath. “Damn Doc, you’re a fast runner you know that?” Babe inhaled deeply. “You shouldn't run off on your own, it could be dangerous.”
Gene let out a sigh of relief, “God Heffron, you scared the sh—” He was cut off as crack split through the air and what felt like a punch to the chest hitting him, falling to the ground with a skull-cracking thud.
What just happened? He looked down to see red starting to spread along his chest, his breath catching as the pain hit him all at once. He let out an agonizing cough, tilting his head back to see Heffron taking cover behind a tree, staring at him wide eyed, jaw hanging open slightly in fear.
“Christ… J-just hang on Gene, I’ll getcha, stay there!” He trailed off and glanced around the tree, another shot ringing out, splintering the wood above him just inches from his head. Heffron tried again, another shot, even closer. “Goddamn sniper!”
Gene glanced back down, his head suddenly becoming too heavy to control as he brought up a shaky hand to put pressure against his wound. He coughed again, air hissing through the wound in his chest and the feeling of something sticky dripping out of his mouth, almost choking on it. Blood… he thought weakly, his medic instincts kicking in. He sputtered again, more blood flying from his mouth and he turned his head to not choke, blood dribbling out.
Vaguely, over the ringing in his ears he heard rapid-fire gun shots above him. A strong arm hooked under his armpit, hauling him backward as Heffron kept firing with his free hand. Crying out from the movement, his eyes flick up to see Heffron pulling him to safety through the trees, back the way they came.
“S-stop Heffron…” He let out a groan of pain, his legs kicking out blindly, eyes finding the smear of blood trailing behind them as he was dragged across the snow. Blinking harshly and trying to take deep breaths, he fought to keep his eyes open, his hand slipping off the wound and weakly dragging along his side. It wasn’t until Heffron’s other arm wrapped firmly around his chest, pressing down on the bleeding and igniting a jolt of white-hot pain, that he finally passed out.
*
*
*
He gasped awake to the feeling of a sharp tugging pain, his limbs falling wildly in an attempt to make it stop.
“Doc, you gotta calm down!” A voice he couldn’t place through the haze told him.
“Hold him down!” Another shouted sharply, and suddenly his limbs were pinned to… what felt like a bed. He felt the prick of a needle enter his thigh, morphine?
He kept thrashing until fingers started carding themselves through his hair, it was soft, comforting, familiar, and he blinked his eyes open. Through blurry vision he glanced upwards, settling on the face of Heffron. Heffron? “ You’ll be alright Genie, Spina’s stitching you up okay?” His soft voice calmed him, but he sounded almost sad?
“A-are you okay Babe?” Gene said weakly, finding his voice could raise no higher than a croaky, pained whisper… “Am I okay? Shit Gene, only you would ask such a question when you're the one who's been shot.”
He let out a soft chuckle, which turned into a painful cough. He started to feel fuzzy, the warm blanket of morphine finally spreading throughout his body. “It’s okay Gene, just relax. Spina will take care of you and when you wake up, Sergeant Winters will give you a nice long lecture.”
Gene let a faint smile settle on his face as he closed his eyes, drifting into sleep with the lingering sensation of Heffron’s fingers threading through his hair.