"Nines! Letter!" Nines looked up from the chart he was holding long enough to acknowledge Markus in the open flap of the tent. The dull feeling remained in his stomach despite the good news. His current patient wasn't doing well. He'd been shot in the gut during their latest assault. They'd barely made it halfway before retreating. They didn't have the men to keep doing this. If the other side got wind of how few reinforcements they had, they'd be overrun in no time. The wounded soldier had been carried back, and Simon had removed the bullet. The problem was the infection that had set in afterwards. Nines had done all he could. He'd changed the bandages regularly, cleaned the wound, and started him on a strain of arsenic. It just didn't seem to be working. Either they'd started treatment too late, or this young man was just completely resistant to their medication. "Any change?" Makus was sympathetic as he appeared at his shoulder and joined him in looking down at the ailing man. Man was an exaggeration. This was a mere boy.

"None for the better." Nines' jaw tightened as he held back from adding that he didn't give him more than two days. His skin was pale and clammy, with dark rings circling his eyes. He seemed dead already but for the rasping breaths and slow rise and fall of his chest. With any luck, he won't wake up again...It would be cruel for him to wake up just to die slowly. Markus squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. It was never easy when patients died, especially when they'd already survived the most difficult phase of surgery. It seemed cruel to get so far and then fall. He's so young, too...

"You should be due a break, right? Go on...Read your letter and get something to eat," Markus insisted sympathetically as he handed over the letter. Nines took it gratefully, suddenly filled with warmth as the crisp paper touched his skin. Chloe's writing was on the outside, but he was quite certain that the letter within would be from Gavin. He gave a weak smile of thanks as he returned the chart to the bed and headed out, leaving Markus to take his place.

Feeling the air on his face felt good, even if it was unpleasantly warm. It smelled less of rot and antiseptic outside, though it lingered on the breeze. Camp was fairly quiet for now. Most able-bodied men were on the front. There were few men to spare for the usual resting periods. They'd likely be out there until a fresh set of recruits was dropped in. New men had been promised. They were expected to arrive sometime that month. The only men around the camp for now were the seriously injured and the tired doctors and nurses.

Nines barely had the energy to eat. He headed for his tent instead. It was a small one. Being of rank, he shared the space with the other ranked doctors. Simon, Markus, and Josh. Josh was currently off duty, dead to the world as he slept off the night shift. He was the only one who worked nights. He preferred it that way. A doctor was always needed on call, and he insisted it was better for him to remain on the same schedule than to work in shifts. They'd agreed since he was happy to do it, but Nines always made it clear that he could ask to change at any time.

Nines was quiet as he crossed to his bunk and kicked off his shoes. He wouldn't eat, but perhaps a short nap would improve his mood. He settled down against the pillow, eyes briefly landing on his small pile of personal items. The scrap of wood Gavin had torn from the enemy barricade, his last letter, and the small ring of bark. He didn't dare even touch the small ring lest it crumble to dust. He smiled as he turned over the envelope and pried the edge up. There was a letter, and something else. Something stiffer than paper. Nines bit his lip as he pulled it out with an eager tug.

He set the folded paper on his chest as he held up the small photograph. Chloe had clearly directed him on how to stand. He was wearing smarter clothes than usual, with a cravat neatly tied at the throat. His hair seemed a little less fluffed than usual. Chloe had likely tidied it with water before taking the picture. He was standing with his right side further back, holding the cane smartly to the ground with his left hand tucked neatly behind his back. Despite it not being customary for portraits, Gavin had failed not to smile. It was small, but there was the slightest rise at the corner of his lips. The picture was all shades of black and grey, so he couldn't see the glinting green of his eyes, but he was sure they were filled with their usual mirth. Chloe had likely made him laugh just as she took the picture.

Nines smiled as he turned on his side, taking his time as he admired the small image. He'd never seen Gavin in formal dress. It was entirely likely that Chloe had taken him shopping, insisting he had to dress like a gentleman for a portrait. He'd think they were Elijah's, only he knew Elijah was thinner than Gavin, and taller. Elijah's clothes would be too tight across Gavin's larger shoulders, and the trousers would gather at his ankles. This suit had clearly been made to his specifications. He felt his cock twitch with interest as he thought about stripping the items one by one. Perhaps he would be allowed to do so when he returned.

The picture was carefully propped up against the shard of wood. He'd move it to his wallet later and carry it with him. If he left it on the bedside, he risked it falling and getting lost. He plucked the letter from the sheets beside him, remaining on his side as he unfolded it to find Gavin's untidy scrawl. It was still legible, but Gavin hadn't exaggerated when he'd said writing was not his strong suit. The words crept across the page like spider scrawl. The lines were sharp and jagged rather than elegantly curled. Sometimes he didn't even join the letters, making it easier to read.

Dear Nines, I'm glad you all returned safely. It's good to hear that Sixty is on form. When he's in good spirits, I know you're in safe hands. That much was true. He was certain the enemy would regret any assault on their position with Sixty cackling on the edge of the barricade. It was enough to unnerve their own men. I got my cane, so I'll have Chloe take a picture later. I'm not sure how clear it will be, but it really is quite fine. Elijah ordered it, so you can probably guess how sturdy it feels. The handle is a real piece of art. It even has my name engraved on it, not that I plan on parting with it on any outings. Nines huffed softly. It certainly would be difficult for him to miss it. You'll be pleased to hear that Elijah and I have patched things up. That was, indeed, good to hear. He couldn't imagine being estranged from his own brothers the way Gavin had been from Elijah.

He couldn't help smiling as he read about all the letters Elijah had been keeping from him. Gavin was a big enough man to admit when he was wrong, and he'd certainly wronged Elijah. Nines wasn't sure he agreed entirely. In his opinion, they were both at fault. Had Elijah sent his first letter, they may well have made up sooner. It was also good to hear that Chloe was in good spirits. They'd grown quite close during those three months. She was very much like a sister at this point. He was also pleased to hear that walking was getting a little easier with the cane, and that Elijah may have found the cause of his discomfort. He'd know for sure by the time he wrote again.

I feel like I think of you more and more each day. That was nice to hear. He thought of Gavin every day. It was reassuring to find that Gavin thought of him just as often. From our first meeting to our most recent parting, I can't help going over everything again and again. Nines had many fond memories as well. Some he liked to revisit more than others. Even now, your presence lingers. When I close my eyes, I can often feel you with me. Nines hummed softly. He did the same, though it was hard in his small cot. He would often pretend he had Gavin tucked against his chest and imagine whispered conversations and intimacies. Write again soon, so I know you're alright. Love you always. Gavin.

That was just what he'd needed to perk himself up. Tucking the letter back in its envelope, he set it on top of the first one, then picked up the picture. He gazed at it fondly, stroking his thumb along Gavin's head and shoulder. He'd write to him again that evening. It was taking a little longer for letters to come and go these days. The letter Gavin had written dated almost two weeks ago. He hoped he didn't think he'd forgotten him. I'll be sure to let him know about the delays...He ached to think it may take a full month for Gavin to receive his response.

He kept the picture in his hand as he closed his eyes. He didn't intend to sleep long. Just a few minutes. Just enough time to rest his eyes and get back on the job. He had quite a few patients left to see. Unfortunately, many of them were in poor condition. Perhaps not on death's door as the young man from earlier, but there were a fair few cases of sepsis. There was also another fever ravishing the lines. Nines was partly convinced it was a stress response, but many had fallen ill over the past week. Food, water, and rest would do for most of them, but God help them if those with sepsis came down with it.

"Nines..." He opened his eyes to find Connor's hand on his shoulder. He felt more than a little groggy. He didn't need Connor to tell him he'd fallen asleep. His stomach turned with the feeling of sleeping too long. Connor smiled softly as he sat on the edge of his cot. "I stopped by earlier, but Simon said to let you rest a little longer...Are you hungry?" Simon stopped by? Nines sat up, surprised to find that Simon was now sleeping soundly, and Josh was out on his rounds. It seemed he'd slept through the final chunk of his shift.

"Not really, but I should eat and do my final rounds." It wouldn't do to leave his patients unchecked. The nurses had, of course, been administering care and medication in his absence, but seeing to their charts was his job. He looked down as he remembered the picture he'd been holding, looking around in a fluster until he found it shoved under his pillow. Connor waited patiently as he tucked it away in his wallet and pulled his boots on.

"I've been keeping an eye on everyone, so don't worry too much." Nines smiled his thanks. Connor was often his lead nurse when he wasn't performing emergency medical care on the front. It was reassuring to have him. He trusted Connor implicitly. A fair few of their medics were newly trained additions, and they'd lost a few during the last assault. Bringing people back from the front was a dangerous job. The stretchers and baggage slowed their progress and made them an easy target for keen eyes. They had to be smart and use cover wherever possible, but that wasn't always easy to come by. The further into no man's land they got, the less cover there was.

"Thank you...I didn't mean to sleep so long." Connor shook his head as they headed out. It was fine. He knew how hard Nines worked. They were all working hard, what with the recent assault, the rise in sepsis, and this latest fever. He was working hard, too. They all were. They also supported each other. He knew Nines would have covered for him just the same. They were no good to anyone if they didn't get rest themselves. That was partly why Simon had been so insistent on letting him sleep. Things were bad, but they'd had the time to let him rest that day. They needed to take these chances as they came. Now that Nines was rested, he'd likely be able to work an extra shift if needed to cover someone else down the line.

"Anything for my little brother." Nines held his tongue as they entered the mess tent. He was only a year younger than Connor and Sixty, and he was hardly little. Physically, he was a little larger than both. He had more muscle than Connor, and he was an inch taller than both. The only reason Sixty had more muscle mass was because he was on the front lugging ammunition and supplies every day. Nines was just naturally built that way. Connor gave him his usual doting smile as he reached up to smooth his hair. Nines closed his eyes. He could have neatened his own hair. Connor didn't need to fuss so much.

They took their meagre portion of food and sat together quietly. They didn't always need excessive amounts of conversation. Just being together improved their moods. Misery was best shared. After he'd eaten, Nines set about writing back to Gavin. He desperately wanted to let him know what was happening, but he had to be careful. Their letters were checked carefully prior to being sent. It was a sensible precaution. If their mail was intercepted by the enemy, it may let them know their plans or the condition of their line. If they were intercepted by the media, they could be used as a source of anti-war propaganda. The higher-ups wanted the folks back home to remain positive. It would be hard to do that if their own men were telling people how terrible things were.

"Are you writing to Gavin again?" Connor asked fondly as he did a little writing of his own. He was scribbling away in his diary. It was something he'd done for as long as Nines could remember. He had a whole bookcase full of them back home, in their father's house. Being unmarried, and working so close to home, he hadn't moved out yet. Nines had moved out for college and never looked back. He'd stayed in the city where he studied, renting a small apartment. Upon being called for service, he'd packed up and stored his belongings with his father, but he fully intended to have his own place again. Somewhere with Gavin. He smiled at the thought.

"Yes...I want to thank him for the picture and give him an update," Nines replied as he scratched away with his pen.

"He sent you a picture? Let's see!" Nines huffed at how bright-eyed and eager he was as he reached across. He obliged, digging out his wallet and tugging the picture free. Connor chuckled as he looked down at it. That certainly wasn't the Gavin he knew. He looked almost upper class. "Oh, very dapper! I didn't know he could clean up so well." Nines nodded his agreement as he took the picture back. He wasn't sure how Chloe had talked him into it, but she'd worked wonders on his image. He wouldn't look out of place in a gentleman's club.

After safely tucking the photo away, Nines finished his letter and signed off. Connor leaned his chin on his hand almost dreamily as he watched Nines fold and kiss the paper before slotting it inside an envelope. Not a word was said. Unlike Sixty, he wasn't a tease. He was just happy to see his brother happy. The relationship had come out of nowhere. It hadn't even crossed his mind that Nines was the type. He'd suspected it of Gavin, with all the flirtatious little winks and jibes, but not Nines. He would have felt scandalised if not for the fact he already knew about Sixty. It had been a shock at first. Many called it unnatural, but Sixty was his twin brother. It had never occurred to him to abandon him. It hadn't crossed their father's mind either, though he'd complained about the lack of grandchildren. Connor chuckled at the mere thought of Sixty reproducing. The world was not prepared for such chaos.

He hooked an arm across Nines' shoulders as they left the tent. They both had duties to attend to, but Connor walked him across to the mailbag first. Hopefully, it wouldn't take as long for his letter to reach England as it did for Gavin's letter to reach them, but it was a small hope. They paused as they reached the junction between the medical tents and the off duty area. Nines had his final rounds to perform, and Connor had one group of men left to see before he could finish for the night. He would be on call, but it wasn't his turn for night watch. Connor gave Nines a brief hug before they parted ways.

They both froze as the alarm sounded, eyes darting towards the distant rumble of shells and gunfire. We weren't due to make an assault today...Nines blood ran cold, chilling him to the bone as he realised what that meant. He looked at Connor and found him just as worried. They were under attack. They joined the group of emergency medics heading for the trucks. There was only so much the less trained men in the trenches could do until they got there. Hopefully, we won't be needed...If the troops managed to hold back the assault, they wouldn't take too many casualties. It was if the enemy crossed their lines that things would get ugly.

Connor jumped into the nearest truck bed and reached back to give Nines a hand up. Stretchers and medical bags were already packed and ready to go. Nines pulled one on and sat down, holding onto the railed side of the truck as it rumbled to life. Eight more medics were in the back of their truck when it finally pulled away and raced for the front. Nines' heart pounded at the mere thought of seeing it again. It had been a while since they'd been on the receiving end of an assault like this, and they'd never been so poorly manned. It was bad timing too. Evening was fast approaching. Though it was still light, visibility would rapidly drop within the next hour. It seemed they were truly trying to take them unawares. The poor visibility would affect both sides, but the attacking side was always far more exposed. Nines' jaw tightened as he remembered his promise. The promise that he'd stay safe and come back soon. Gavin...