"Hey, Babe, wait up!"

Private Babe Heffron stopped his weary trudge through the snow and turned around, waiting patiently for Ralph Spina, one of the Easy Company medics, to catch up to him. He rubbed his frozen hands together in a vain attempt to warm them up as he watched the other man cross the snowy ground.

"You okay?" Spina asked when he reached his side.

Babe shrugged. No, not really, he thought to himself. But it's better than it was last night.

The previous day was mostly a blur to him. He didn't remember much after they returned to camp from the patrol that had killed his foxhole buddy, Julian. Just the thought of the young replacement made his heart ache. He was just a kid, he - . He cut off that line of thought, pushing the horrible, bloody image of Julian's death from his mind as best he could.

Last night, he couldn't bring himself to stay in his hole with only the snow and Julian's ghost for company. Instead, he'd wandered around for a while with no idea of where he was going before he stumbled into Doc and Spina's hole. He had no idea what he'd said to Spina, or even if he'd said anything at all. The only things he remembered from last night were heartache, warmth, and chocolate. It was the first time since he'd come to Bastogne that he'd felt warm.

"Babe?"

Spina's concerned voice jolted him out of his memories and back to the present. "Yeah," he stammered. "Yeah, I'm okay. You?"

Now it was Spina's turn to shrug. "Can't complain. Wouldn't do me any good if I did anyways, right?" The grin on his face was infectious, and Babe found himself smiling for the first time since Julian's death.

They resumed walking, making their way through the deep snow. Heffron remained silent, and much to his surprise, so did Spina. Glancing over at the medic, it was plain to see that he was thinking – and whatever he was thinking about was clearly bothering him. The smile that had brightened his face only a few seconds ago was gone, replaced with a frown that was reflected in his dark eyes. Curious, the red-head from Philly stayed quiet, wondering what could make the usually upbeat Spina so worried.

After a long silence, Spina finally spoke. "Have you seen Doc today?"

The question brought Babe up short. Well, I wasn't expecting that. "Yeah, I saw him earlier. Why?"

Spina ignored his question…and his gaze. "Before or after the attack?"

He had to think about that one for a moment, running back over the events of the day before answering, "Before. But I did hear that he took Gordon to Bastogne after he got hit. I haven't seen him since."

"Gordon got hit?" Spina stopped in his tracks. "How bad?"

"Pretty bad," Babe said grimly, remembering Sergeant Lipton's broken expression when they'd asked about Gordon. "I heard he was paralyzed. Couldn't feel a thing."

"Damn." They stood in silence, their breath billowing out in front of them like smoke, each man consumed with his own thoughts. Gordon had been a Taccoa man, one of the original men of Easy Company. And even though Babe was a replacement that had joined after the Normandy invasion, Gordon had been quick to accept him and all of the other new men. He was one of the most well-liked men in the company.

Spina's heavy sigh broke the stillness and pulled him out of his thoughts. "Well, that might explain part of it, then."

"What?" He frowned, not following this new turn in the conversation.

"I'm worried about him, Babe." Spina's voice was deadly serious.

"Who? Gordon?" he asked, still not following.

"No," he shook his head, his dark eyes finally meeting Babe's. "Doc."

"What?" He was totally confused. "What's wrong with him?"

Spina didn't reply, just grabbed his sleeve and pulled him farther to the left where they could just make out a solitary figure sitting at the base of a tree about 20 yards away, his dark eyes staring off into the distance with an unblinking gaze. The harsh shiver that went down his spine had nothing to do with cold…and everything to do with that vacant gaze. "He's been like that ever since he got back from town. He didn't say a word when he got back, just went over to the tree and sat down. He hasn't moved since." The medic shifted uneasily, his boots crunching in the snow. "I don't know what to do, Babe," he admitted quietly, his face filled with worry and uncertainty. "I don't think he's sleeping much – I think last night was the first night he actually slept. And I haven't seen him eat anything. All he does at chow time in smoke."

Babe nodded at that, having seen it first hand just a couple of days earlier after the "Hinkle Incident." He, Muck, Penkala, Malarkey, and Julian had been sitting around joking about it while Doc sat a few feet away by himself, smoking. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, assuming that he'd already eaten, but now that he thought back, he didn't remember Roe going up to Joe for his food. "How long has this been goin' on?"

"I don't know," Spina's voice was tinged with guilt. "I just started to notice a few days ago, although he's been pretty good at hiding it. But now…" he trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.

He's not even trying to hide it, Babe finished silently to himself. And along with that realization came another one – one that was even worse.

He's giving up.

Doc, who'd been with Easy since the beginning and fought fiercely to save every man that was wounded, was giving up. He pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his bright red hair in frustration, silently swearing up a storm.

The other man unknowingly echoed Babe's thought when he continued. "Doc's a strong guy, but he's not made of stone. If we don't do something soon, I'm afraid he's gonna break."

"What can we do?"

"Well, if this was anybody else, then I'd say to get him back to Bastogne for a hot meal and a decent night's sleep. But since he just came from there…and he seems worse than when he left…"

"Yeah, probably not the best idea," Babe agreed, taking a few steps over to lean against the nearest tree and still keep Doc in sight.

Spina sighed, following Heffron over to the tree. "I think the only thing we can do is keep an eye on him. Try to get him to eat when everyone else does. I'll see if I can get him to sleep, but…"

"Good luck with that. You two are running on less sleep than the rest of us," Babe said sympathetically. It was a rare night when the cry for "MEDIC!" didn't come at least once, usually more than once. And after the rush of patching up the wounded, he couldn't imagine that Doc or Spina could just go back to sleep. It's a miracle that Spina's doing so well. He eyed the other medic with concern, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the weariness on his face.

His scrutiny did not go unnoticed. "Don't look at me like that!" said Spina sharply. "I'm fine, Babe. Honestly." He lowered his gaze to the snow covered ground and added quietly, "Doc's made a point to send me off the line every so often for a hot meal." He looked up, sorrow in his eyes. "Here he is, taking care of me, when he's the one that's about to lose it."

"That sounds like Doc." He stared at the still figure sitting against the tree, as motionless and white as a marble statue.

"Yeah, it does." The two men stood in silence for a moment. "Do you remember when Doc got wounded in Holland? (1)"

The red head grimaced. "It's hard to forget, Spina." He'd never forget that day for many reasons, but the one that stood out the clearest in his mind was the sight of First Sergeant Lipton leaning over a pale and bloody Doc Roe. He thought the medic was already dead, he'd been so still, but he'd taken off as quick as he could when Lipton ordered him to go find Spina. It'd seemed like forever before he found the other medic and returned with Hashey to help with the stretchers.

"Did you hear what he said to me when I finally got there?"

The private shook his head. He and Hashey had kept their distance while Spina had worked on Doc, afraid to hover too close over the wounded men and get in the way.

Spina smiled sadly and leaned his head back against the tree. "There he is – bleeding badly from his sliced leg – and the first thing he says to me is 'Check Davis for me, first, okay?' Can you believe that?"

"Geez," Babe muttered in disbelief. "He really did that?"

"Yeah," he nodded. He continued to stare at Doc, and it was clear to Babe that his friend was still worried about the situation.

And he wasn't alone.

"Look, Spina, we'll take care of him, alright?" he tried to reassure the other man, but he had a hard time believing it himself.

"What if something like this happens in the middle of a battle, huh, Babe?" Spina turned on him in anger fueled by fear. "What if he just…stands there like this and he gets shot. We can't stay with him the whole time."

"No, we can't," he replied with brutal honesty, "but I don't think that'll happen. Doc's too dedicated. When you're in battle, you don't even have time to think, right? You just react? Well, I'm sure that's how it is with Doc. No," he paused thoughtfully, "I think we need to be more worried about him between battles. But between the two of us, we should be able to keep an eye on him most of the time. We'll take care of him, Spina," he repeated firmly, meaning every word he said, "Just like he takes care of us. Deal?"

Spina stared at him, searching his eyes intently for a long moment before he agreed. "Deal." They shook hands on it, a frozen pact between two friends determined to protect another.

"I'll make sure he gets something at chow time tonight, okay?" Heffron grinned. "Even if I have to bring it to him myself."

Two hours later…

Babe Heffron stood in line with two tin cups instead of his usual one. Waiting his time in line, he finally made it to the front. After he received his spoonful of beans, he held out the other one to Joe, their cook. "For the Doc," he said simply.

End

(1) See my previous story "Every Step of the Way"