Andi gave the girl sitting in front of her a soft smile and gently took the arm she held out in one of her own long,
capable hands. The girl in front of her might have been as old as eleven or twelve but years of malnutrition made her
look closer to eight or nine. And it was just enough to break your heart.
"And how are you doing today, bebe?" she asked, low voice making the girl's dialect hum slightly as she unwrapped the
bandages around the thin arm. There was no answer but Andi was used to that and talked more for the effect of her
voice and the hope that it soothed, than because she expected answers. She made a humming noise as she looked at
the skin under the wrappings. Sarah, at least that was the name she'd given the voiceless girl in front of her, had
burned her arm when a pot of boiling water had tipped. Her family, far from help, had smeared the burns with fat. It was
the only thing they knew but infection had set in because of it. And someone had cared enough in her family to bring
the girl to the clinic. In a world with so little to give, it said a great deal about the family that they'd made the trek.
Andi had managed to save the arm but she didn't know how much of the mobility in it Sarah would have left. In a world
where a woman was judged by the work she could perform, it wasn't a fair sentence.
"Looking better." Andi murmured, careful as her fingers moved. The unpeeling of the bandages had to have hurt like
buggery but the little girl didn't flinch. It wasn't right. But Andi was going to do her best to make it so. She gave the girl a
soft smile to indicate that things were better today than they had been on the last visit and set about cleaning and
medicating the burns.
She was just rebandaging the arm to keep out the all pervasive dust as best as they could, murmuring about how well
Sarah was taking care of her arm, just as she'd asked, when she heard the sound of vehicles arriving outside the tent.
That was strange enough to be alarming in these times and the sounds of men's voices didn't help any. Finishing what
she was doing with quick efficiency, the other doctors around her rushing to do the same, Andi had just enough time to
stand up and place a protective arm around Sarah before the wide awning of the tent was pushed a bit more to the
side.
The soldiers came in, in equal numbers, bearing stretchers, assisting the ones that could still sort of walk. They were all
dirty, streaked with dust and mud, their uniforms rumpled and sporting at least five o'clock shadows. They'd been
ambushed by the local warlords, had done their fair share of damage, and now were bringing back the wounded.
Two had been lost, and they were taken to another tent, for preparations to be sent home in a flag covered box to
weeping parents.
All in a day, SFC Hector Garrett supposed as he assisted one of his fellow D-Boys onto a cot. "Don't suppose we can
get some help over here?" He called out to whoever was listening, preferably someone who knew more about medicine
than he did as he adjusted the pressure dressing on Cheever's leg.
Andi had her own opinion when it came to the presence of soldiers, but that hardly mattered now. People were hurt and
it was her job to make them better. And sometimes, life really was as simple as that.
She gave Sarah's shoulder a squeeze to indicate it was all right for her to go and then she pulled off the latex gloves
and slipped new ones on as a matter of rout as she made her way to the nearest cot, the other doctors doing much the
same. Hers was a bleeder, his face pale and his eyes slightly unfocused but most of the blood loss had already been
cut off. His companion was already working with the dressing and she knelt down next to him, putting one hand over his
and the other on the wounded man's wrist.
Not as bad as it could have been...
"It's all right." her tone of voice was the same for the hulking armed men as it had been for the tiny little girl. Soothing
and relaxed. "I've got you now." Done with the pulse and what it told her she concentrated on the leg wound. Asking
what had happened seemed ridiculous because he'd obviously been shot and the why of it wouldn't matter to fixing
that. But it helped people concentrate if they were talking and his companion had blood on his as well. Until she could
check them both, she asked conversationally, hands already moving in confident, steady motions:
"What are your names?"
Cheever winced as both Hector and Andi messed with his wound. "Sergeant First Class Mark Cheever, ma'am." He said
through gritted teeth. He looked at Hector. "Did we get them all?"
"Yeah, we got them all." Hector said, not sure which 'all' he was referring to, but it was the right answer for the time
being. "Sergeant First Class Hector Garrett." He said with a nod at Andi. "How's his leg?"
"Do you have to cut it off?" Cheever asked.
"You've been watching too many war movies." Hector said with a shake of his head.
A simple 'Mark' and 'Hector' would have done, Andi thought absently as she inspected the wound. She understood that
it was military knee jerk reaction to state all the rest. As a civilian she hardly cared what their ranks were.
"Americans." She commented as she reached for what she liked to think of as her 'fix it' box. She'd really rather would
not know who 'them' was or why 'all' of them needed 'getting'. She was a doctor. Killing wasn't a solution for her. She
raised her eyebrows and looked up at Mark. He wasn't bleeding to death and she could spare him that moment.
"Do you want me to cut it off?" She asked dryly with a hint of amusement in her tone. Too many movies indeed. She set
back to work, movement efficient and practiced. She was getting far too good at this kind of wound. "I can make it
horribly dramatic and let you pull off some noble, flippant one liners if you'd rather."
"For God and country!" Mark said. "Leave no man behind!" He went on further with the clichéd one liners from movies,
even went into non war movies. "Feeling lucky punk?" As Andi stitched up his leg. "Oh you are an angel of mercy. Will
you have my children?" Mark joked.
"Easy there." Hector said with a chuckle. "No baby making with a bad leg, remember?" He cast a look at Andi. One, she
wasn't military. Two, she wasn't American. Easy to take offense at Mark's excuse for a sense of humor.
"You forgot that you were here to 'kick arse and chew bubble gum and happened to be all out of chewing gum'" Andi
added without looking up from what she was doing. She'd started him talking to help give him something to think of
other than what she was doing and she finished the last neat stitch now. A year ago his last comment would have
surprised her enough that he would have regretted it when he made her hand jerk but now she simply took it in stride
and knotted the thread.
She considered pointing out that neither of them even knew her name and having someone's baby required that much
at least surely but decided against it because then they might ask. She was much more comfortable when the soldiers
simply thought of her as another in a line of faceless doctors. Wrapping dressing in place, she commented:
"Next time someone shoots at you, dodge. And the next time you want a woman to have your child, start with something
like a dinner offer." She tied the bandage off and gave Mark a friendly pat on the shoulder and smile before signaled
over one of the volunteers to finish. Standing up she took off her gloves and absently rubbed at her back. A quick look
reassured her that everyone on a cot was already being seen to and she turned to the other soldier and gestured to
an empty bed.
"You next." She instructed.
Hector laughed at her additions to Mark's ramblings. "I don't know, when a woman offers to have my baby, usually I like
to know her name first." He said as she gestured to a cot. "Nah, I'm good. Unlike the Yank there I know how to take a
bullet and the shrapnel. Jump outta the way. I just got some scrapes, nothing a shower won't help."
Like most military guys, they preferred not to be on a med cot unless they were actively bleeding, because usually
doing time on a med cot meant doing time off the active roster.
"Mm." Andi commented to his protests, already pulling on another set of gloves. Men, soldiers in particular, thought it
was important to deny being hurt. And she'd known bullets to leave little blood behind and do a great deal of damage.
She'd never forgive herself if she let someone walk out of here and die because of it. Gentle, she suggested rationally:
"Then it won't hurt if I give you a quick once over, will it now? Just for a moment and then you can go back to women
offering to have your children again."
Hector sighed and rolled his eyes, but did sit on the med cot. "I'm fine." He said as he took his automatic rifle off and set
it on the cot beside him, not at all far away. A certain paranoia was trained into these men after all. "So do I get to know
the name of who's going to be giving me a 'quick once over' or not? Only fair, you know mine."
She didn't like that, giving out her name. Especially when he'd now mentioned its lack twice which showed far too much
attention. Gentle, she tipped his face with a hand at his chin to buy herself some time while she gave his face a visual
once over that revealed nothing but dirt, sweat, tiredness and the scrapes he'd already mentioned. Something had
kicked up near him and taken a small gouge out of just above his eyebrow. Lucky miss.
She was tempted to simply tell him 'Dr. White' but she'd been raised to trade fair for fair, which meant a first name for
the one he'd given her. Pesky upbringing...
"My name's Andi." She answered, running a hand down his back to check his breathing before using a stethoscope to
check his lungs for liquid or rattles. "And that's only because you were nice enough to sit down without me having to
bully." There was a great deal of blood on the shoulder of his shirt though not in hugely alarming amounts and she'd
seen him use that arm. It tended to indicate that it was someone else's blood, which was almost as alarming, but she
shifted, careful to avoid the weapon, and gave the shoulder her attention next. Asking, as she did so:
"Did you want to quote movie lines at me the way your friend did while I do this or are book passages more your style?"
He laughed. "Okay." He said, playing along. "The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play, so we sat in the house all
that cold, cold wet day. I sat there with Sally, we sat there we two...can I stop or have I impressed you with my literary
knowledge yet, Andi?" He asked, quoting Doctor Seuss, because it was light hearted and innocent, as she manipulated
his shoulder. He winced a bit then laughed.
"Wouldn't have pulled my shoulder if Cheever would stop wolfing down the wings."
"Hey! I'm a growing boy!" Cheever called back out.
She couldn't help it. The quiet laughter started as soon as she realized what book he had chosen to quote from. She
had to turn her head away and actually stop what she was doing for a moment. So - incongruous. And perfect. She
didn't laugh often but that - that had been worth it.
"Duly impressed." She managed, still smiling despite herself as she ran her fingers over his shoulder to be sure it would
just be stiff muscles and nothing else in a day's time. Compared to the people she usually took care of here his
shoulders were an almost entirely different animal with a great deal more muscle and stronger bones. Harder to
damage.
"And surely he can't weigh that much." She added, moving on to make sure his shoulder was the only sore spot.
"Sergeant Cheever seems such a light, biffy creature really." She commented of the hulking soldier on the opposite cot.
"I'm sure he hardly eats more than lettuce and dandelions."
Hector laughed at that. "Okay, then the next time we make a run, you can come along and carry his scrawny butt." He
said. "Lettuce and dandelions." He chuckled and shook his head. "You ain't never been to a D-boy barbecue. Probably
the only Red Cross person that hasn't crashed and bilked food off us."
"Anyone know what's on the menu tonight?" One of the Deltas called out.
"Heard we scored a pig from the militia." Meaning they stole a pig from the warlords.
"Good deal." Hector said, laughing.
"No, I've never been to a barbecue." She pronounced the word oddly as she agreed with him absently, fairly convinced
the shoulder was the worse of the lot for him. She didn't associate with soldiers the way some of the other girls here
did. Something for which, no doubt, her mother was eternally grateful. She moved back a step, pulling off her gloves.
"Spot on." She admitted. "You're fine as long as you go light on the shoulder for a bit."
He stood up and grabbed his weapon. "Don't count on it." He said with a grin. "See you later, Cheever. If you're a good
boy and behave yourself, I'll bring you back some BBQ. Nice to meet you Andi, try not to fall to Cheever's charms." He
said, laughing again.
"You're a bastard!" Cheever called out, chuckling. "Bet your ass I'm getting pig tonight. On a silver platter!"
Andi shook her head good naturedly at the teasing. It never ceased to amaze her how men who killed for a living could
be so jovial. It wasn't that it seemed they shouldn't be. They were as human as anyone else and deserved it. It was just
that she couldn't imagine how they could be. And, having seen soldiers a great deal in the past year or so, she was
fairly sure that Mark would have someone bringing him the pork he was after. It would easily beat the food they were
going to serve tonight.
Checking to make sure no one needed her immediately and that the emergency was temporarily over, she gave Mark a
smile and then moved to the back of the tent. To get herself a quick drink before moving on to her next round of
patients.