Red Machine & White Hands

Summary: England, October 1943: When Dick Winters is starting to feel sick during a training exercise, it slowly becomes clear for everyone around him that Winters is neither indestructible nor flawless. The hardest battle for the acceptance of his own humaneness, however, takes place inside Dick himself, while at the same time struggling with some trust issues in Easy Company. Somewhere in the process, he finds his heart all of a sudden dangerously vulnerable. Eventual Winters/OC.

Rating: T (just to be safe)

Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me. I am focusing on the fictionalized characters of HBO and hope no one will take offence with this story. It was created purely for fun, I do not receive any money for it.

Author's Note: First, the same thing as last time, I'm still not a native English speaker... Darn it! :-) But I try my best and I hope the mistakes aren't too annoying. Second, I have no experience whatsoever with any things concerning military business. I looked up a few things, but everything else is just made up. Sorry if it isn't accurate. Third, this is probably a longer story and I hope my rather limited free time will allow me to update regularly. But a nice review every once in a while can work wonders. ;-)

Criticism is always appreciated.

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If asked about it later, Dick could not have said when the pain had started. He had been feeling unwell for a few days, having no appetite and suffering from stomach cramps. Since it was an on and off thing, he forgot about it during the strenuous days of training in Aldbourne. Captain Sobel was stricter than ever before, shooing them from one exhausting maneuver to the other, leaving Dick to fall into bed dead tired in the evenings. Not even Nix had been able to get him to do more than just sleep in his scarce time off.

They had been in England for something over a month and Dick had actually looked forward to his first 24 hours solo-maneuver with second platoon, feeling eager to test his leadership skills while being alone with his men. He imagined it to be a relief, working with them without Sobel breathing down his neck all the time and scrambling up all of Dick's hard work to get them in the right positions. He also felt that although his status as a leader was respected from all sides, the men still lacked trust in him as their closest superior officer. After all, he would be the one leading them in battle, being responsible for life and death situations. But some of the men were more than a little worried about the leadership qualities of a man who neither drank nor smoked and spent most of his free-time reading or writing. That was one of the views Dick wanted to change during their solo-maneuver, at the same time tightening his bond with the men.

However, when the morning of this important day came, Dick felt more like staying in bed and forgetting about this whole military business. The stomach pains had woken him up in the middle of the night, coming back with a vengeance, and he had not been able to get back to sleep after that, twisting and turning restlessly in bed until morning. On top of it all, he had started to feel nauseous, being unsure if he would even be able to keep down a much needed cup of coffee. Great, this was about the worst time to get sick. But he could not back out of this very exercise now or he would never hear the end of it from Sobel. Their relationship was more than just a little strained and Dick was just too stubborn to show any weakness in front of Sobel.

"Good morning, sunshine", Nix greeted him sarcastically, already waiting in the car to get them to the base when Dick stepped out of their billet. "You're looking peachy today."

At every other time, Dick would have smiled a bit, shaking his head at his friend's antics, but this morning his patience was already wearing thin. He longed to press a hand to his stomach, just to relieve the pain for a moment, but he was sure Nix would notice and he did not need his friend to fuss over him.

"Morning, Lew", he answered, rather curtly, while Nix was pulling out of the courtyard of the old English house where they were staying.

"What's up with you?", his friend asked more gently, giving him a long side glance. "Nervous because of the solo-maneuver?"

"Yeah, a bit", Dick admitted, glad for the way out that Nix was offering. It was true after all, he was slightly nervous and that might aggravate his stomach pains even further. After a short while, they arrived at the base in silence.

He decided to skip breakfast and coffee, instead going for tea. That earned him another long glance and a raised eyebrow from Nix, but Dick did not have the time to explain, leaving his friend where he was and hurrying away. He was already running a little late for the meeting he had before the exercise.

Sobel, Major Horton and some of the other officers from regiment were already waiting for him in headquarters. Dick looked at his watch and saw that he was one minute late. One minute. Nevertheless, he murmured an excuse, receiving an irritated glance from Sobel, and then sat down at the table up front.

"Lieutenant Winters", Horton started, getting up and stepping in front of the map that hung at the wall. "Today is your first of five solo-maneuvers with second platoon of Easy Company. You're certainly aware of how important these exercises are. The platoons need to be able to operate autonomously, without constant help and directions from your CO."

Dick snorted inwardly at that, thinking of the great help Sobel had been so far. The Captain was certainly more hindrance than support when it came to the different maneuvers.

"Therefore", Horton continued, "the responsibility for the success of your platoon and consequently for the whole company lies with you. You're allowed to fail one of these five exercises, if you fail more than that, your CO will have the opportunity of reassigning you to another post that will fit your abilities better."

Which translated demotion or mess officer to Dick. Glancing at Sobel and seeing him smile just a tiny little bit at that prospect made Dick even more resolute in seeing this maneuver through, no matter the costs. He knew he could do it, he was more than ready for it.

"Here is your assignment", Horton went on, picking up a stick and pointing to the map. "Second platoon will set out in one hour, at 1100. First, there is a fifteen miles march ahead of you in full gear. You're taking this road down here to the woods and back up to the vicinity of Ramsbury. You'll find troops stationed there in the woods and it is imperative to sneak past these soldiers without them seeing you or any of your men, or you've already failed the exercise. Then the next step will be the taking of an occupied farm complex close to Lamboum, here. In between these two tasks, there will be attempts to ambush you, so you have to maintain a close watch on your men. You're expected back here at the base at exactly 1100 hours tomorrow morning. Not one minute earlier or later. Questions?"

"No, sir", Dick answered. He knew from other officers how such maneuvers played out, so he had already expected something like that and had prepared for it.

"Good", Sobel remarked, getting up and walking over to Dick. "Here is a map. Take the time to mark your way, then assemble second platoon to brief them. Sergeant Lipton is waiting outside."

"Yes, sir", Dick answered and went to the task right away.

When he got up to take his leave, the sharp pain in his stomach almost made him wince, but he could mask it in front of Sobel. The other officers wished him good luck, then he went outside. Lipton looked up when Dick stepped out, nodding his head in greeting before going back to watching the drizzle on this dreary October morning.

"At least we can put our new raincoats to an endurance test", the sergeant commented lightly, as usual seeing the positive side in everything, without ever complaining.

"Yeah", Dick answered, breathing in deeply, "and the mist might come in handy as well, since we'll have to stay hidden for the most part of the maneuver anyway."

Lipton gave him a supportive smile.

"Assemble the men in the briefing room", Dick ordered softly and watched Lipton nod, then leaving for the barracks. Only then Dick allowed himself to press a hand to his hurting stomach, willing the pain to go away, but without real success. Maybe he should go looking for some painkillers, but then decided against it. That would just raise questions. Hopefully it would get better once they were moving, he would need his full concentration for the hours ahead.

When Dick entered the briefing room half an hour later, the 42 men of second platoon all snapped to attention.

"At ease", Dick commanded, stepping up to the front and pinning the map to the wall. He shortly relayed the assignment he had just received to the men, explaining to them the different tasks ahead.

"Any questions?", he asked the men, who looked less than thrilled to spend the next 24 hours outside in this weather.

"Yeah, I've got a question", Guarnere spoke up, letting out a long-suffering sigh that communicated his unwillingness of the exercise ahead. Dick knew then and there that he would need to watch the sergeant, because he had the habit of influencing the rest of the group, positively or negatively. And in this case obviously negatively. "With how many men do we have to reckon? In the woods and in the farm?"

"Good question, Bill", Dick answered, trying his best to encourage Guarnere despite his reluctance. "Unfortunately, I have no idea. They didn't tell me and I think this is one of the things that we'll have to figure out ourselves. It's not like we'll have the chance to ask the Germans about their strength, before attacking."

This earned Dick a few smiles from Lipton, Sergeant Grant and Doc Roe. At least some of them seemed motivated enough.

"More questions?", Dick asked again, looking from one to the other, but everything seemed clear now. "Good, then go and get your gear, we'll set out in fifteen minutes. Don't forget your raincoats."

The first three hours of marching went by relatively quickly, despite the steady drizzle that slowly but surly permeated their coats. No one had openly complained yet and the mood of the men had even lifted a bit, with Perconte telling childhood stories of his stay in a very rigid Catholic school and him driving the preachers to the brink of madness.

This would all have been nice and good, if not the pain in Dick's stomach had steadily grown more vicious. It also had moved somewhat, the sharpest pain now in his lower right side, like an annoying, never-ending stitch. It would have been a relief to limp or bend forward, but he was sure someone would notice. Already now, Doc Roe eyed him suspiciously from time to time, and Lipton was almost glued to his side, maybe feeling that something was off.

"When are we taking a break, sir?", Lipton in this moment decided to break the silence, looking closely at Dick.

"Soon", Dick answered, frowning a bit at the sergeant. "In about fifteen minutes we'll reach a small forest where we'll have cover."

Lipton nodded and looked away from him, out to the cow meadows and fields around them. When Dick thought no one was looking, he sneaked a hand to his hurting side, letting it rest there as inconspicuously as possible. Maybe he should have got himself some painkillers, when he had had the chance... But it was too late now, he would either have to ask Doc Roe or just carry on without. Besides, he was not sure if his upset stomach would tolerate the pills, even some small sips of waters had left him feeling sick.

As planned, the forest came soon into view and Dick gave the command for a short break of ten minutes. The men sat down and most of them already started eating from their provisions.

Dick lowered himself gingerly onto a big rock and wiped his sweaty forehead. It was rather cold and they had hardly had any occasion to exert themselves, but he was strangely enough sweating. At the same time he felt the chill of his by now soaked through clothes steal into his bones. He just had to admit it to himself, he was falling ill. Which really irked him, because he never got sick. Just now of all the possible times, he felt under the weather, literally. Sighing softly to himself, he decided that he would call in sick, when he came back from this maneuver, if the illness persisted. The thought of lying in bed and resting was very comforting. But it did not change anything about his current position and he certainly would not call off this exercise, he would not give Sobel that satisfaction.

"Would you like some bread, sir?", Roe asked him and brought him out of his reverie. The medic had sat himself on the stone beside Dick and munched from his bread, holding out a piece for Dick.

"No, thank you", Dick answered, shaking his head and at the same time feeling his stomach churn only at the thought of eating.

"Is everything alright?", the medic asked again, trying not to sound too intrusive.

"Yes, just fine", Dick replied, seeing his suspicions about Roe noticing confirmed. "Why would you think that something is wrong?"

Roe was silent for a while, obviously pondering his answer.

"Well... You've been quiet and... pale, I guess. Sir."

Dick forced himself to smile, then asking, "And normally I'm not?"

Roe picked up on that, giving him a smile in return and then shrugging his shoulders.

"Then call it a feeling. I can't explain...", he finally answered, a bit self-consciously.

"Everything is fine, Eugene", Dick tried to reassure him. "I'll just be happy when this maneuver is over and we're back at the base."

He did not know why he had said that last bit. Maybe because it was true. But normally he would have pointed out the importance of this very exercise, explaining why it was so vital for all of them, not longingly stating that he would rather be back already. Roe gave him a long look, but then shrugged, as if to say, 'fine, be that way'.

Their break was over and they were back marching again. A cold wind suddenly came up, rustling through the wet, brown leaves on the ground and making their teeth chatter.

"God, I'm looking forward to spending the night outside", Luz commented sarcastically. "Come to the army and experience the most exciting adventures of your life, they said. Yeah, it's a little bit like the boy scouts, with the exception that they always had hot chocolate. Do we get hot chocolate for the night, Lieutenant Winters?"

The others snickered at his bold question and even Dick himself had to struggle to keep his face straight.

"Sorry to disappoint, George", he answered, deadpan. "I'm afraid Colonel Sink expected men to join the troops, not girls."

Some more snickering for that and Dick was glad that their spirits were quite high, despite their circumstances.

It took them another three hours to reach the woods, where they were supposed to sneak past enemy troops in order to get to their main objective, the occupied farm complex. It was early evening by then, and a gloomy dusk had already crept in. Dick decided to wait until it was fully dark to continue and let the men rest for an hour, before beginning their actual task.

"Eat now, drink some water and smoke your cigarettes", Dick advised, while his men were settling down groaningly for a break. "When we set out again, I want light and noise discipline for the next few hours."

Receiving nods in return, Dick lowered himself to the ground, not caring if it was wet, leaning against a tree and drawing up his legs. Good, this position at least brought some relief for the angry pain in his side. He took the provisions out of his backpack, not feeling hungry at all. The nausea had gotten worse over the last few hours. But he knew that he needed to eat something, he had skipped every meal so far today and he was already feeling a bit lightheaded. If he wanted to see this through, he would have to force something down his throat. He just was not sure if he could convince it to stay there and he was less than trilled at the prospect of throwing up in front of the men. Things like that, the weakness or fear of an officer, could destroy months of building up of trust and respect. Any hesitation at a command given in battle could decide over life and death, and it was best if the men thought of him as totally in control of everything, under all circumstances.

He broke away a small piece of bread and gingerly took a bite from it. The bread was already drenched from the rain, feeling mushy in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow, which took most of his willpower, then set aside the food, giving up. There was no way in hell that he would be able to eat more, his stomach was rebelling already now, practically begging to expel the food again. He took a few deep breaths, trying to think of something nice, his home or a morning swim in Summer.

A shape was standing before him in the twilight and when Dick looked up, he recognized Lipton. The sergeant crouched down in front of him and gave him a hesitant smile.

"Not feeling hungry, sir?", Lipton asked, letting Dick know that he had noticed him not eating.

"Not really", Dick then admitted, seeing no sense in lying to the sergeant. Lipton was the one man he trusted most in this platoon and he knew that the sergeant cared deeply for the well-being of each and every man in Easy Company. Dick himself included.

"Have you been feeling sick?", Lipton inquired further, calmly. Dick knew that the sergeant's caring also had a functional aspect: after all it could save their lives in battle, knowing the weak spot in their group. And as little as he liked it, Dick was slowly becoming this weak spot.

"Yeah", he then acknowledged, rubbing his tired eyes. It was actually quite a relief, being able to drop the pretence of good health at least a little, in front of Lipton. "Just some kind of stomach flu, it's really annoying."

Lipton nodded, face thoughtful.

"Maybe you should let Doc Roe have a look at you", he suggested tentatively.

"No", Dick replied at once, shaking his head. "This won't be necessary. I don't want the men to know. Understood?"

Lipton obediently nodded his head, although it was obvious that he felt different about it. He then got up and rejoined the men, leaving Dick to his thoughts and hurting side. After the hour was up, Dick assembled the men and told them about the plan.

"The troops will probably hide in the dell two miles east from here", he stated, watching the map in his hands. "But there might be others hiding in their vicinity. We'll sneak around this place in a wide arch. Pay attention to fir groupings, because the forest will be there at its darkest and gives good coverage for your enemy."

It was fully dark by now, but Dick could still see his men nodding their heads. The sky was covered with clouds, hiding an almost full moon, which meant that the darkness would not be complete. They would need to tread carefully.

"We split up here. Lipton", he addressed the sergeant, "you take first squad and go around the dell north of it. Here, take the map and look at it again."

While Lipton took the map, Dick turned around to the other men.

"Guarnere. You take second squad, I'll take third together with Grant. We'll go the same way, passing the dell south of it. I want you to stay right behind me all the time."

"Yes, sir", Guarnere answered, sounding a bit peeved at the prospect of trailing after Dick all the time. Which was exactly why Dick had decided to keep him close. Grant just nodded, staying his usual quiet self. Dick had probably never heard anything else from the sergeant except "Yes, sir" and "No, sir".

"Then good luck and don't let yourself be caught", Dick said. "We'll meet again at the small clearing at 2115 hours. Go."

First squad silently took the path that led away from them on the left side, while Dick took the path on his right. He could hear the men trailing behind him, sometimes a bit more to the left or a bit more to the right, so that they would not walk in a straight line, just as they had learned. They were quiet, but still a bit too loud for his liking, which was why he was signing to Guarnere to make them walk more silently.

After about a mile, Dick signed again to them, commanding them to crouch down while walking because they were coming close to the dell. Although crouching down first came as a relief to Dick's hurting side, it soon turned out to aggravate his sore abdomen even more. The straining of muscles made his side scream in pain and he was glad that it was dark, because the others could not see him grimace in pain and constantly pressing a hand to his side. The ache was so distracting, that he almost overlooked the short flicker of light in the woods in front of him. He heard Guarnere beside him stopping, which meant that he had seen it as well. Dick gave the sign for his men to kneel down, then indicated to Guarnere to take two men and go to investigate, while the others waited.

The steady drizzle had by now increased to a light rain and the wind was still blowing quite forcefully. Although Dick was shivering a bit, slowly losing the feeling in his feet, he was also glad for it, because it made the sneaking part easier.

Soon Guarnere came back and signed to Dick that there were ten men waiting in the bushes for them, probably a patrol. Nodding his head he motioned for the sergeant to take the men around them, changing the way and coming closer to the outskirts of the forest, where no doubt other troops were waiting. But they just had to take the risk, there was no other way.

At one point, they even had to crawl a short bit beneath the bushes, which was agony for Dick's side. For the first time, he actually had second thoughts about his decision to go through with the maneuver. He was tired, cold, hurting, feeling sick and more than just a little fed up with this nighttime exercise. All he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and sleep until the pain went away. It would be so easy, he just had to call it off and then have Luz radio for a jeep that would take him back. Maybe Horton would even let him repeat the maneuver, without calling it a failure, because of medical reasons. But even if the major would count it as failed, Dick had four more maneuvers ahead of him and he was sure he could see each and everyone of them through successfully.

However, he did not say anything, inching forward with clenched teeth. He had told himself to go through with it this morning and that was what he was going to do. Pain, cold, sickness and fatigue were waiting for him ahead in this war, so he might as well get used to it now, while he had the opportunity to adjust to it with without being in danger to lose any of his men. Besides, he was not sure he could take the look of glee on Sobel's face if he came back unsuccessful and defeated. And he did not even want to think of what his men would say to him giving up in the middle of the exercise.

In the mean time, they had snuck around their "enemy" troops and almost reached the clearing where they were supposed to meet up with squad one. They were able to walk upright again, if still carefully, because Horton had talked about the possibility of an ambush all along the way. Dick could make out shapes in the trees by the clearing, but he was not sure if it was Lipton with first squad or the their enemy. So he signed again for his men to kneel down, then crept slowly to the clearing, taking out his clicker along the way. He knew that their enemies here were American, too, and would know about the clicker, but since it was just an exercise, Dick hoped that this would not be used against him, since employing the clicker was what he was taught to do in this situation.

He clicked just once, softly, then waiting. Two clicks could be heard as an answer, then one of the shapes turned his head and Dick saw that it was Lipton. Relieved, he gestured to Guarnere and Grant to let the men follow, then softly walked over to Lipton.

"Went everything alright?", Dick asked the sergeant in a hushed voice.

"Yes, sir, no troubles", Lipton answered, just as low. "And you?"

"Everything fine", Dick replied. "We came across a patrol, but we were able to sneak past them."

"What are we doing next?", Lipton asked, wiping the rain water from his wet face.

"We move on in this direction for a mile longer and we will be out of the tightly controlled part of the forest. Let the men spread out in a loose order, so we won't make too big a target."

Lipton nodded and they were moving again. Cold, wet leaves slapped into Dick's face every now and then, while they continued through the bushes. He took out the map and made sure that he had made no mistake concerning their position, although he had memorized the map by now.

They reached the mentioned place without any trouble and Dick motioned for them to sit down in the thick brushwood and take a short break.

"What about smoking, sir?", Guarnere asked Dick softly, packet already in hand.

"No, Bill", Dick answered, taking out his canteen and gulping down some water. His throat was parched. "No light, no smoke."

Guarnere muttered something like "damn Quaker" under his breath, but did not complain openly about it, going back to the men sulkily. Dick just sighed, not feeling up to calling him out on that and take him to task. The water he had just drunk did not agree with him at all and he swallowed heavily, feeling his stomach turning. He probably had gulped it down a bit too fast...

"Sir?", Lipton chose this moment to speak up. "About the attack on the occupied farm complex, I thought it might be good to..."

"Please, excuse me", Dick interrupted suddenly, then staggered off into the woods, stomach heaving. He did not care about being discovered right then and there, he just had to get away from the men before he embarrassed himself. Leaning on a tree trunk, he could not keep it back any longer and began to retch, bringing up what little water he had drunk in the last few hours. The contraction of his stomach elicited red hot pain in his right side and he had to bite back the moan that threatened to escape him. Although the throwing up was so painful it almost brought him to his knees, he tried to be as quiet about it as possible. When the vomiting stopped and he lifted his head, trying to get his breath back in shuddering gasps, he realized that he had not been silent enough about it.

"Sir?", Lipton asked softly, standing right behind him when Dick turned around, Doc Roe at his side. "You're not well. It would be better to let Gene here have a look at you."

The sergeant's tone was almost pleading, showing that he was more than a little concerned.

"I'm fine", Dick tried to shrug him off, still breathing heavily and flinching at the pain in his side. It was so bad now, he had to stay hunched over because he could not straighten up, he just couldn't. "Just feeling a little ill, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

"Sir, if I may say so, you look more than a little ill", Doc Roe spoke up with his soft lilt, taking another step towards Dick. "You realize that it might be serious?"

"Richard", Lipton now opted for his first name, though no one ever called him that. "Just let Gene do his job. He could use the practice, you know, testing what he's learnt."

Although the eager smile on Doc Roe's face at the mentioning of practice did nothing to reassure Dick – the medic probably already seeing his officer as some kind of guinea pig – Dick felt his resolve crumble and he finally nodded his consent. He just could not fight against all sides, not in his condition, with Guarnere acting up and now Lipton and Roe talking at him from both sides.

"Good!", Roe exclaimed enthusiastically, then tamping down his voice immediately at Dick's warning look. "Sit down here, sir."

Dick did as he was told and lowered himself onto a fallen trunk, Doc Roe kneeling down beside him.

"So", the medic started, obviously thinking hard of the different steps of diagnosis he had been taught, "what are your symptoms and when did they start?"

Dick just sighed, but then he humored Roe, answering truthfully, "It started a few days ago, I can't remember exactly when. First there were just the stomach cramps, then I started feeling nauseous. Look, Eugene, it's just a stomach flu that has steadily got worse."

"Stomach cramps?", Roe muttered softly to himself, not at all following Dick's self-diagnosis, then dug deeper, "What kind of stomach cramps?"

"What do you mean 'what kind of cramps'?", Dick asked, starting to get annoyed. He did not have time for this crap, they should be moving out again. "The kind that hurts, okay?"

"Dull ache? Stinging or searing pain?", the medic supplied helpfully, not letting himself be off tracked by Dick's mood. "Where is the pain located?"

"It started with a dull ache in my stomach, now it's a rather sharp pain in my lower right side", Dick answered gloomily, wishing this to be over rather sooner than later.

"Lower right side?", Roe asked again, suddenly alarmed.

"Yeah, I just said that, didn't I?", Dick replied grumpily, not understanding why the medic was all of a sudden in such a frenzy.

"Sir", Roe inquired softly, his warm brown eyes looking deeply into Dick's blue ones. "You still got your appendix?"

"What...?", Dick stuttered, taken aback and being sure he must have misheard. It just could not be... could it? "Yes... yes, I still have my appendix... But that's impossible!"

"Why impossible?", Roe asked, slowly overcoming his alarm and beginning to look more and more excited. "Appendicitis is very common and can happen to anyone who still has an appendix. Let me see your abdomen, I'm after all only guessing so far."

Dick numbly rolled up his soaked jacket and pullover, shivering in the cold.

"But why have I been feeling this sick?", he asked softly, while Roe started palpating his abdomen carefully, the touch of his fingers warm and gentle. "This seems to me more like a stomach flu."

"That is actually rather typical", Lipton answered, surprisingly enough, and not the medic. He came to sit on the trunk beside Dick. "I had appendicitis when I was thirteen. Hurt like hell, but what I most remember about it is being sick all the time."

Dick looked at him gloomily, then could not bite back a hiss, when Doc Roe touched an exceptional painful spot.

"It hurts here?", the medic asked, then pressed softly on the spot again.

"Yes", Dick ground out, the pain making him short tempered. It would have been so easy to snarl at Roe, but he needed to hold himself back, the medic was just doing his job. And Roe was trying to be gentle, after all, but his side had turned so tender that even the slightest touch made him flinch in pain.

"Alright, I'll have to do a last test", Roe said, glancing rather apologetically at Dick, so he suspected this would be painful. "Does this hurt?"

Oddly enough, the medic pressed a finger into his trouble-free left side, slowly amplifying pressure.

"Gene, it's not my left side that hurts, but the right side...", Dick tried to explain, until the medic lifted his finger and let his stomach rebound. The pain that exploded in his side was so intense that he was instantly doubling over, moaning softly and rocking back and forth in an attempt to stop the pain. For a moment he forgot where he was and what he was doing, it was just him and the red hot agony in his side. Then he slowly came out of his very own world of pain, blinking away the black spots in his vision and struggling to keep himself from throwing up on Roe's shoes.

"Okay", the medic pronounced, rather cheerily and definitely proud of his diagnostic skills. "This surely looks like appendicitis. And already in an advanced stage, as it seems."

"Just don't do that again", Dick whispered weakly, still hunched over and feeling sweat trail down his brow. At the same time, he was shaking from the cold and pain, feeling more miserable than he had in a long time. No, actually he could not remember ever feeling this miserable.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, seeing that Lipton had got up and crouched down in front of him, giving him an encouraging smile.

"You'll soon be feeling better, sir", the sergeant tried to give him confidence. "The surgery is no big deal."

"Surgery?", Dick asked faintly. "There is no other way?"

"I'm afraid not, sir", Roe answered, but sounding not too unhappy about it. Maybe he hoped to assist in the surgery or just looked forward to treat someone actually sick, and not just pretending in an exercise. Then he reached out a hand to feel Dick's forehead, the touch oddly soothing.

"And I wouldn't wait too long with it, if I were you", Roe then added in a more worried tone, a frown discernible on his face despite the dark. "You're already running a fever, which means that inflammation is spreading. It won't get better by itself, it's only going to get worse."

This would explain why Dick had felt chilly right from the beginning of the exercise. But how could he have known that he was suffering from appendicitis? Why did this have to happen right now? He was stuck in the middle of nowhere with his men, on an important maneuver, training for the most destructive war in history, and his appendix had just decided to act up. He was slowly starting to feel more than just a little annoyed at his situation, even making him forget his pain for a while. God, this was so stupid! What was an appendix for anyway, if not for creating trouble?

"Shall I have Luz radio for a transport to the military hospital right now, sir?", Lipton asked softly.

Dick pondered this for a moment, irritation for his situation still on the forefront of his mind, then shook his head.

"No", he said lowly, but with determination. "We'll finish this maneuver, I'll go to the hospital as soon as we're done here."

"Sir", Roe spoke up insistently, "it would be better for you to see a doctor rather sooner than later. Get this thing out right away."

"I appreciate your advice, trooper", Dick answered, rather frostily, not liking at all the way his authority was crumbling. That was exactly what he had feared by admitting any weakness in front of the men. "But I'm making the decisions here and I say we finish this exercise first."

"With all due respect, sir", Roe retorted heatedly, the normally gentle eyes now blazing, "this is a stupid decision! Your appendix is close to bursting and believe me, you don't want that to happen. The pain you're in right now is a walk in the park compared to the shit that is waiting for you if that happens! People can die from a ruptured appendix!"

"Eugene, you're forgetting your place", Lipton cut in sternly, before Dick had the opportunity to call Roe to account. The medic looked angrily to the sergeant, but then got a grip on himself.

"I'm sorry, sir", he apologized to Dick through clenched teeth. "Won't happen again. The decision lies with you entirely." He paused, struggling with himself, but then could not keep himself from adding, "After all, it's not my health you're playing with."

Having said that, Roe got up and stalked back to the others, obviously feeling he was not needed anymore. Dick and Lipton looked after him, the sergeant sighing softly.

"At least no one can claim he's not dedicated", Lipton commented to Dick, a wry look on his face. "Please, sir, don't judge him too harshly for it."

Dick looked a bit sourly at the sergeant, because he did not like the fact that even Lipton was starting to feel he needed to give good advice about what Dick should do and what not. However, he kept himself from commenting on it, suddenly feeling tired and the pain in his side screaming for attention again. With a hand pressed to his stomach, he slowly walked back to the men, Lipton trailing behind him.

It was going to be a long night.

-TBC-