I'll Be Your Drill, Soldier!

by Crystal Rose

  All I can say is thank God for LT. Kripke. He's been dragging Ryan into his office. Ryan normally comes out with new information and the LT is trying to get Ryan's R & R bumped up.

  Alexander

  ***

  After Alexander's email Mark called Tory to thank her for it. She burst into tears and Mark damn near started to cry himself.

  “I feel awful. When Sandy called all I could say was thank God Alexander is safe. God, I'm horrible.” She sobbed.

  “No it's normal. I did the same thing with Patrick,” Mark said, clearing his throat. “Still feels like shit,” he agreed.

  They didn't talk long. When he hung up he sat down on the couch. Kenneth and Sandy were on their way back from San Antonio again. Mark had gotten Katie to pack a small bag. They were all heading back that way first thing in the morning.

  Kenneth had pulled every string he had to get Phillip transferred to The Intrepid Center at Brooke Army Medical Center. He was being brought in tomorrow. Everyone was getting ready to leave and head that way. Patrick knew that Mark would be there. Hopefully he could leave voice mails or text if he got in.

  ***

  The hospital was cold; sterile; it smelled bad. And Mark had a hard time breathing. Sandy was holding his hand tightly when they entered the family waiting room of ICU.

  Phillip's parents and siblings were already there.

  “Sandy.” Gerry greeted her, pulling the young woman into his arms. Katie came over and he slipped an arm around her too.

  Meghan was pale and went straight to Mark. She hugged him tightly. “Glad you’re here.”

  “Thanks,” Mark whispered.

  A nurse came out and frowned at Mark and Kenneth.

  “I'm sorry, only family can be here.”

  Sharon cleared her throat. “Can't you see? That's Mark and Kenneth. Phillip's cousins. They have been best friends since grade school,” she lied.

  Mark blinked and nodded at Sharon, thankful for the woman.

  “Can we? Is he?”

  Kenneth was trembling. Mark knew what he wanted because Mark wanted to go back there in the worst way.

  “Two at a time.” Sharon nodded.

  Kenneth looked at Mark and Sandy. “You both should go on in,” he said, willing to wait his turn.

  Mark felt like kissing the guy. Both he and Sandy walked into the ICU arm in arm. Mark wasn't sure who was holding who up. All he knew was his legs were shaking and if he stopped at any time they would hear his knees knocking together.

  The room was shut off from the outside and the curtain was drawn. He pushed it back looking at the floor. He wasn't ready to look at his friend yet. Taking a deep breath he looked up.

  Sandy drew in a sharp breath, and it came out as a sob.

  Mark's breath caught in his throat. He felt bile rising and wanted to vomit.

  The man lying on the bed wasn't his friend.

  It wasn't Phillip who was always the picture of good health.

  Phil,” Sandy whimpered.

  This Phillip had tubes poking from everywhere. A ventilator was hooked up to keep him breathing. IVs hung all over the place. Plasma, fluids medicines were all being pumped into his too still body. Machines beeped and growled behind him.

  But what made Mark die a little more was his friend. Phillip was too white. They had him lying on his stomach so the burns on his back would heal but his face was visible. Phillip's face was paler than pale. It was sunken and gaunt.

  What struck Mark was how small Phillip looked on the hospital bed. That hurt him in more ways than one. He didn't say anything but listened to the beeps of the machines, and Sandy's soft cries.

  “He can't be this hurt,” Sandy whispered. “Phillip...Oh god, Mark, he can't be like this.”

  “I know,” he said huskily, his voice rough from unshed tears.

  They stood beside the bed remembering Phillip as he was. Not what he was now.

  “First time I ever saw him I thought he was the goofiest motherfucker I ever seen.” Mark said, breaking the silence. “He...God he wore this fucking straw hat...he was carrying a rubber chicken around. He was telling everyone to kiss his cock.”

  Sandy made a sound that was between a chuckle and a sob.

  “Anyways, he gets to me and tells me to kiss his cock. He pushes the rubber chicken into my face. Then I kiss the fucking thing and he smiles.” Mark broke off because the need to cry was so strong he had to gather himself again. “He said 'Well, that settles it. You and Me, Connelly. We're gonna be good friends.'”

  Sandy was laughing even though there were still tears on her face. “He broke my nose,” she said suddenly. “I was a junior cheerleader in the fifth grade. He played basketball. It was funny because he was so short. Well, he threw the ball at someone and I happened to be standing there. I caught it with my nose.” She smiled sadly. “The very next day he brought me flowers and begged for my forgiveness.”

  They both walked closer to the bed. Sandy ran her hand over his head and chuckled. “He would be pissed that no one cut his hair.”

  Mark had to smile. Phillip would be pissed about that. He liked his hair short.

  Kenneth had told them that while Phillip's other wounds were serious, the doctors would be afraid of infections from the burns. That's what killed most burn victims. Mark was terrified to touch Phillip.

  “He's gonna make it,” Sandy said. “He's defied the odds so far. They didn't think he'd make it out of Iraq...and then out of Germany. They don't know Phillip like we do.”

  Mark wanted to share in her optimism. But he was a realist. A lot of guys made it home. They just didn't make it out of the fucking hospital.

  They had stayed their fifteen minutes.

  Sandy leaned over. “Phil...you better get better. Too many people are counting on you,” she whispered. She kissed the top of his head and began to sob again.

  Mark leaned over and whispered, “Grabowski, if you die so help me God I'll find a way to Hell and drag you kicking and fucking screaming back.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  After three weeks of no change Mark was convinced that they were sitting at 'the best' Phillip would ever get. Phillip was getting smaller and smaller. It was hard for Mark to keep going back and seeing him like that because the man on the bed wasn't his friend. It wasn't the guy who terrorized young recruits.

  To his surprise William and Jamie King came and visited the family for a few days. Bob Beaver and Jeff Roach had become permanent fixtures around the hospital. Ryan's sister and brother came in and were staying with the Grabowskis.

  Brendon hadn't been able to get leave but called daily to see how Phillip was doing. Kenneth was having more episodes since Phillip got transferred to Texas. Sandy was trying her best but she wasn't what Kenneth needed. So Jeff and Robert both took over when Kenneth went on Baghdad time.

  It had been nearly a month after the accident before Patrick finally got his R & R date. Mark had to go get him in Dallas at two am on a Saturday morning.

  Ryan finally called Sandy. Mark had held Sandy for hours after the phone call. She said Ryan sounded awful and completely defeated. She was worried his head wasn't in Iraq. They didn't want to bury Ryan on top of dealing with Phillip's condition. But neither one said that in so many words.

  Alexander emailed them regularly. He wanted updates. And he would tell them about Ryan. Mark wasn't surprised when he got a call from the cool-as-a-cucumber sergeant.

  “Hey Mark. Sorry I'm waking you up.”

  “Hey Krutz. Don't worry about it.”

  “Just wanted to let you know-- Ryan is back in the game,” Alexander said. “Some of the guys and I had to do some tough love. But he's back.”

  Mark blinked and a small smile played on his lips. “Good. Any word from the LT?”

  “Not that I know, but the LT is pushing for his R & R in the next bunch.”

  “Good.”

  “Well I have to go. Just wanted to let you know he's coming around.”

  “Alrig
ht. Keep your head down,” Mark said. He yawned and hung up the phone.

  ***

  Mark waited anxiously by the Gate. Dallas-Ft. Worth airport had the guys coming through customs. He had to give it to the USO people. They were always there. No plane was ever greeted by silence. Ever. It was going on three am and they were still cheering and screaming for every soldier who came down the walkway.

  His gaze darted to each face. One by one faces went past him. One by one he checked them off as not being Patrick.

  He was starting to worry that he had the wrong time. Even the nice ladies from the USO were starting to think he had the wrong time.

  Two more guys walked out together and Mark dismissed them both.

  The shorter of the two blinked and held up his hand. “I know I'm looking rough, but damn.”

  That voice was undeniable, unmistakable. “Patrick!” Mark jumped the guard rail and pulled Patrick into his arms. “BABY!” He lifted up the shorter guy, who laughed and tried to wiggle out.

  “Mark, put me down, I'm not a fucking girl, Mark, I'm gonna kick…” He didn't get to finish because Mark laid a kiss on him that made nearly everyone there swoon.

  It was an odd feeling for Mark. He was never into PDAs. EVER. That was a Phillip and Ryan deal. But he couldn't stop kissing Patrick. His hands slid over the warm body beneath him. He had to touch. He had to taste. When they broke apart Patrick was breathing heavily.

  “Mark, babe...the fuck was that?” Patrick grinned.

  Mark took one look at Patrick and started to cry. He was blaming stress. He was blaming the fact that he had spent the better part of a month worried about his best friend. Patrick put his arms around his boyfriend and soothed him.

  Mark was the go-to guy. Mark was laid back, strong enough to handle everything and then some. But even he had a breaking point. And this was it. Patrick was safe. He didn't have to be strong anymore.

  Patrick led them out of the building and into the drizzle of rain. “I missed you,” he whispered.

  “Missed you too.”

  “How is he?”

  Mark cleared his throat and shrugged. “No change. He's not worse, and he's not better,” he said. “It's the same shit.”

  Patrick grimaced. “No change? Fuck.”

  “Yeah. The burns on his back and legs are healing. The doctors said that he was lucky there wasn't any infection.”

  Patrick nodded.

  ***

  They drove home quietly, just looking at each other. Well, Mark was darting quick, small glances when traffic permitted.

  Once they got home Mark was all over Patrick. The door banged open and Patrick practically fell over his own feet while he was being pushed inside. Clothing was dropped on their way to the bedroom. Mark was the aggressor, which made Patrick tease him.

  “Aww, you feeling lonely?” Patrick twitted.

  “Fuck off, Smith-- and get naked or I swear to God you're going back with one less uniform.”

  Patrick chuckled, but knew Mark was serious. He discarded his boots, pants and the undershirt. Mark was nearly purring with happiness when Patrick stood naked in front of him.

  Carefully Mark took stock of every ding. Every cut. Every single little bruise. He kissed and licked his way all over Patrick's body.

  Patrick didn't say anything. He allowed Mark to look him over. He understood. It was Mark's way to make sure he was okay.

  “I know,” Patrick murmured. He did know. He had no doubt that Mark loved him.

  They fell to the bed together. Soft little I love yous. were exchanged. Hands slid across dry skin. Even tears. They were desperately trying to keep the ghosts at bay. The what if's or coulda beens.

  Mark topped, for the second time in their whole relationship. The only other time was once back in basic when Patrick forgot that Mark was the NCO. Patrick had never forgotten that lesson.

  But tonight Mark took his time with his lover. He stroked Patrick until Patrick was begging. His tongue found every single hidden recess that Patrick's body had. When he was finally sunk into the other man's body Mark moaned long and low.

  Patrick whimpered at the unaccustomed pain but wanted more. The pain let him know he was alive. The love pulsing through him let him know that without Mark...yeah, he didn't even want to think about it.

  “I love you, Patrick. I love you so fucking much,” Mark whispered as he began to slide in and out of his lover. “I want you...I need you...you're my everything.” His breath blew across the back of Patrick's neck. He was so close. Patrick was virgin-tight. His cock felt like it was being strangled to death. His strokes became harder. More demanding. Patrick's cries turned loud and high-pitched until the smaller man came all over the bed and his own stomach.

  Mark didn't last long after that. As soon as Patrick came, the vice grip he held him in tightened. That sent waves of pleasure coursing through his belly, straight to his balls. He came with a roar, spilling himself deep into his lover's body.

  ***

  Patrick and Mark went to San Antonio the next day. Mark was grateful for Marko and Collie, who were running the bar so he could be here. He hadn't been in his own bar in over two weeks. If it weren't for them he would be out of business.

  Patrick choked on the cleanliness of the hospital. Mark knew the feeling.

  Phillip was still in ICU, he had coded twice since he’d been there. The doctors were taking no chances, especially with the group that hung out in the waiting room for him.

  Mark had to smile when Patrick blinked at the two old grizzled Drill Sergeants.

  “Roach and Beaver? Wow.” Patrick sent them mock salutes and was then enveloped in a huge bear hug by Kenneth. He was passed around the room until he was standing in front of Robert Beaver.

  “I ain't that happy to see you son, but I'll shake any SOB's hand that has been over in that hell hole,” the Drill Sergeant boomed. It seemed completely out of place-- yet not.

  Patrick put out his hand and the older man shook it tightly.

  “Welcome home,” Jeff said, shaking his hand and patting his back.

  Sandy pulled Patrick to the side and informed him that he was Phillip's step-brother, if anyone asked.

  “They're being dicks. Sherri and Gerry got everyone in though. Phillip's family is freaking huge now.”

  “How's Katie?”

  “She's staying with Tory today. They had a major test. She's doing okay. Scared, and doesn't know how to say what she feels,” Sandy said sadly. “She hasn't been in to see Phil since the first time we brought her. She can't bear to see him like that.”

  “Yeah.” Patrick nodded, understanding completely. Mark had a hard time seeing Phillip the way he was.

  “Mark, why don't you take Patrick back?” Sherri said gently. “Send Mac and Meghan out.”

  Mark nodded. As he was leading Patrick back in the room he took a deep breath. “He doesn't look like he did,” he whispered.

  They entered the room. Patrick had thought he’d prepared himself, but he obviously hadn't. A sob ripped from his throat and he swallowed. Hard.

  “Oh fuck. Oh god.”

  Phillip lay against the cold, white pillow and nearly blended in with it. His skin was almost translucent. His once full face was gaunt and sunken in. He looked like some sort of zombie. Patrick couldn't believe this was the same man who’d brimmed with life just a month ago.

  Mark slipped his arms around Patrick and held him tight. They both moved forward.

  “Hey buddy,” Patrick said quietly when they were beside the bed. “You're going to be starving to death when you wake up. And you damn well better fucking wake up.”

  Mark felt Patrick shaking and knew the man was barely keeping it all in.

  The ventilator had been removed when Phillip began to fight it. He was breathing on his own with a little help from the oxygen being pumped in through tubes in his nose.

  “He hasn't woken up?”

  “No. He has brain activity so the Doctors are optimistic, but the longer h
e stays down...they just don't know, Patrick.”

  Patrick nodded. “Ryan sends his love. He said it exactly that way in his email. He's really fucked up, Phillip. He really needs you to make him right. Alexander said he's driving everyone crazy but I think he's going a little crazy himself. I haven't seen him, just word of mouth through Alexander. He barely emails anyone. He calls Sandy once in a while. But I heard that he calls here a lot. God, Phil, you gotta get better. We can't keep him alive if you don't.”

  Mark blinked and wondered at how true Patrick's words were. He knew Ryan. The guy was strong. He could handle just about anything that was thrown his way. But he believed that surviving without Phillip might not be palatable for Ryan.

  They stayed their allotted time and then both left.

  ***

  A week later they were all sitting in the waiting room. Patrick, Mark, Sandy, Kenneth, Bob, Jeff and everyone else, sitting there laughing at the Phillip stories that were being passed around.

  It had been the first time in three weeks that they all laughed.

  “The first time he walked out in that Smokey Bear I thought I was going to piss my pants. I knew recruits were going to piss theirs. He looked downright evil. If they could have seen him during his BCT they would have laughed him straight out of the Army.” Jeff laughed.

  “He called me two weeks in and demanded that I come get him.” Sherri giggled. “Momma, these guys are so fu..sorry momma..crazy. You need to come and get me right the fuc..sorry momma..Now!”

  Everyone laughed hard.

  “Those two made him sound like the Anti-Christ. Every one of us was scared to death of the guy.” Patrick snorted. He pointed at Robert and Jeff.

  “And that was before we actually SAW him.” Kenneth laughed. “When he came out I swear to God everyone nearly started to cry. Not only was he crazy but he was a giant. He spoke so softly we all had to strain to hear him.”