The Spirit of the Corps » Band of Brothers

107: Treasure

Chuck was awake when Charlie and Floyd arrived at his hospital room, but he was drowsy and not all that aware of his surroundings. Nonetheless, Floyd sat down in the chair Mabs had spent the night in and took Chuck's hand, and he spoke to him quietly, his voice soft and concerned.

"Just the sedative wearin' off," Mabs said as she stood by the door with Charlie, giving Chuck and Floyd some privacy. "He's been tryna speak but it's been a whole load'a gibberish so far."

Charlie sighed. "The surgeon said he might have trouble with speech. At the moment it might just be the sedative but we'll have to keep an eye on it."

"Yeah," Mabs agreed.

Sitting with Chuck and speaking to him but getting no reply started to upset Floyd - Charlie could tell by the bunching of his eyebrows and how he began to pull at his bottom lip with his free hand - so she came over to stand beside him and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to head back to the hotel with Mabs?" she asked him softly when he looked up at her. "I'll stay here with Chuck and make sure everything's okay." She squeezed his shoulder lightly. "You should try to get some more sleep."

Floyd looked conflicted so Mabs intervened. "Sedative won't finish wearin' off for a couple hours yet," she informed him from her place by the door. "Nothin' much to wait around for now."

Floyd's eyes went back to Charlie, searching hers, before he nodded just slightly, a movement so subtle Charlie almost didn't catch it.

"You'll be alright by yourself?" he asked Charlie quietly, his voice pitched so only she could hear it, when he stood.

Charlie nodded. She pushed up on her toes and kissed his cheek, then took his hands in her own and kissed both of them, too. "I'll be fine," she assured him. "Go and get some sleep."

Floyd nodded, albeit reluctantly, and bent to kiss her forehead before letting go of her hands and following Mabs out of the door.

When the two of them were gone, Charlie sat in the chair beside Chuck's bed. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze before she started to speak to him in hushed tones about whatever she could think to say.

Eventually, the majority of the sedative wore off, so Charlie alerted a nurse who sent word to Doctor Kneissl. She then took Chuck's vitals - his heart rate, blood pressure, and a sample of his blood to ensure everything was okay.

Even now that the worst of the sedative had left his system, Chuck was still struggling to speak clearly. Charlie's stomach dropped; she'd been prepared for as much, had been steeling herself for it ever since Kneissl had made the prediction just after the surgery this morning, but it still pained her. Here Chuck was, lying in a hospital bed with his vitals being taken every two hours, with a thick layer of bandages wrapped around his head and a desperate struggle just to get his words out. And for what?

Charlie was glad the shooter had been caught and beaten within an inch of his life by the men in the company. He deserved it. He'd killed two men, shot at many others, attempted to rape a local girl and would have done it if he hadn't been caught, and he'd put Chuck here, put him in this position. It was despicable, vile behaviour, and she was filled with so much rage just thinking about it she felt a scream working its way up her throat, prickling all the way up in an itch she knew she wouldn't be able to scratch in any other way.

Kneissl showed up and attempted to speak with Chuck, and he noted down the results of his analysis on a clipboard. He left the room just before Boo arrived to take over from Charlie in looking after Chuck. The instant she was relieved, Charlie bid goodbye to both Chuck and Boo and then raced out into the hallway, hurrying after Kneissl's retreating form and pleading with him to update her on Chuck's condition.