A Happy Occasion

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Hank's arrival seemed to cheer everyone up, particularly Allen. Hank had taken to him straight away. It seemed Connor had spoken about everyone in his letters. He knew all about his relationship with Sixty, and pretty much took responsibility for him. He was there for Nines, of course, but they all agreed and understood that Allen needed all the help he could get. The first week had already passed, and the pain had eased, as Elijah surmised, but Allen's attitude had remained the same. He'd remained quiet and withdrawn, only sharing a few words with Gavin and Nines during their regular visits to his room. He hadn't left his solitude.

Upon arriving, and meeting him, Hank moved into Allen's room. It was a twin room, so they had their own beds. Allen insisted it wasn't necessary, but there was no way in hell Hank was going to leave him alone with his own thoughts at night. When he couldn't sleep for the pain, or when he woke screaming and crying, Hank would be there to settle him down with stories of Sixty's youth. It was cathartic for both of them. Sometimes, he could almost feel Sixty in the room with them, pouting and objecting to the secrets being spilled.

Hank asked Allen questions, too. How they'd met. What had drawn them to each other. Allen had all sorts of stories about Sixty's antics. The way he'd fought and bickered with Gavin at any opportunity. That he'd looked out for the younger troops, snapping they were idiots while showing them how to do better and pretending it was a chore when he'd secretly lived for it. How he'd leapt atop the parapet, cackling and whooping as he'd fired at the enemy. The quiet nights when he'd shared his deepest fears. His face in the lingering silence. The pinch of his eyes as they'd listened to the chilling groans of the dying. It didn't matter which side the men belonged to. It always hit just as hard. On rare nights, he'd cried. Some nights they both had.

With Hank's company, and the gradually declining pain, Allen was soon ready to leave his room for the first time. Hank talked him into it, telling him how much better he'd feel and bribing him with more stories about Sixty. They sat out on the patio in the cool autumn weather, sipping tea and eating sandwiches. Chloe was over the moon to see him actually eating again. She even managed to coax him into trying one of the small cakes. Nines and Gavin also stopped by after a short ride in the forest. With Blossom now back to her old self, they were back to trotting in the woods on an almost daily basis.

Now that Allen was healing up, Gavin was a lot more positive. It wouldn't be long before Elijah gave the all-clear to begin training for the prosthetics. With that in mind, he rolled up his trouser leg to show Allen his own prosthetic. Allen was attentive as he showed him the joint and how it fitted, giving him a heads up of what to expect. He even called Jeffery over so he could get a better idea of how the knee-jointed prosthetics would work. Allen seemed wary, but somehow fascinated as Jeffery showed him how they strapped on and how they moved as he walked. Jeffery walked with two canes, though Elijah had high hopes of him being able to cut down to one someday. In the long term, he wanted to create prosthetics that would be stable enough to use with no support at all.

Jeffery was another one who took to Allen. Having similar injuries, he had a fellow-feeling for him in a way he didn't with many others. He and Hank would sit with him for hours, distracting him from the pain with plans for the future. Jeffery knew how critical the first month was. You didn't want to lose hope right from the off. He didn't know how Allen was holding on. They were the worst injuries he'd ever seen. He didn't even know how he'd gotten through surgery. That was a feeling many of them shared, though he was looking better since the burns had started healing.

Chloe also played a big role in Allen's recovery. She was his lead nurse and always tried to be positive during her visits. She encouraged him, insisting he was healing nicely every time she changed his bandages. He began to believe it as the skin dried and healed. He didn't even need the wax and oils at this point. Soon, he wouldn't need bandages at all. His skin was becoming firmer. Stronger. It would never be the same as before in some places, forever warped and uneven, but it was healing. Chloe latched onto every little positive thought and encouraged it.

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