FicWad

The Nurse - I Never Told You His Name


Doctor Jakobs comes to find you to discuss the nutrition programme and exercise regime you have created. They seem to be working, but there are a few things he needs to ask you.

You meet him in the corridor; you have just handed over to Stefan for a few hours. It is late afternoon. You are feeling tired, it has already been a long day.

He can see how pale you are. “When was the last time you were above?”

You smile. It is sad. “I haven't been up there since I was brought here. I've forgotten what its like.”

God how long ago was that? Your mind can't help but wonder.

You watch as he reaches a decision. He knows you won't run. Its not in your nature, and he knows you will not leave your patient. Not for the first time Doctor Jakobs wonders what it is about this man that has such a hold over you.

“Come on.”

You follow. You are too tired to ask where to.

After stopping by the canteen and obtaining two coffees and cake, he leads you to the main elevator - a place you are no longer allowed. The guard there makes to stop you but Doctor Jakobs intervenes.

“She's with me.”

When you step out into the fresh air, the brightness of the day blinds you, the smells assault you and you realise it is autumn. Your eyes water and you feel a breeze wrap itself around your body. You are almost brought to your knees from everything that overwhelms you.

You both step away from the building, but as you walk forward you take in what you are seeing and stop. The expanse of the camp is laid out before you and it takes your breath away. The night you came here it was dark; you had no idea the operation was so large. You look around. You can still only see part of the camp and part of how it is laid out but other things about it shock you. You only saw soldiers briefly the first night, but even so they were Russian soldiers. It had obviously been a Russian Military Camp then, but now?

Now it was different.

Frighteningly so.

The soldiers you can see are no longer in Russian uniform. They wear the black uniforms of Hydra, with the red design on their shoulders. Some of the buildings have also been stencilled with the Hydra sign. You can see tanks, huge things easily twice the size of ordinary ones, immense guns on trailers, and fleets of other armoured vehicles you do not recognise. Over it all flies a flag. Not the normal Russian flag, but one that bears the Hydra insignia. You can hear shouts of men and marching feet, and to your right in the distance is a parade ground containing hundreds of squads of soldiers. You have never seen so many. Everyone is armed, everyone seems to have a purpose. High walls surround the camp, you can see towers on two of the corners, the others are obscured by even more buildings.

“Scary isn't it?” Jakobs says quietly when he sees where you are looking.

You look away, fear clutching at you.

“Is this why you brought me up here? To see this?” you ask.

He seems shocked.

“No, no why would I...you looked pale, I thought some sun and fresh air would do you good. That is the only reason. “

And you believe him; for some reason you believe this man. You look at him your eyes watering in the light. There is a weakness there. No, not a weakness, a side to him maybe buried. He was once a good man...and then Hydra got hold of him.

He hands you a cup, takes your arm and leads you over to an area with tables and benches. He sits you down and he passes you a cake. How civilised this all seems, yet below the earth, below your feet is a world made out of fear and torture.

“I don't know even know where we are,” you say.

He looks at you and then away.

“Do any of us know where we are?” he asks cryptically. He cannot tell you, it is no good pushing him for things he cannot say. If you had any thoughts of getting James Barnes out of here they have been totally annihilated. No one could escape this.

You pick up your cup to drink some coffee to change the subject, to start again. “Nice coffee.” And you take a sip.

He lets you compose yourself for a while. He can see the shock of the camp in your eyes; he didn't realise you didn't even know where you were. But it makes sense when he thinks about it. Lehmann will be furious if he finds out you have been brought up here.

Sod him.

You tilt your head back to feel the low sun on your face and close your eyes. If only you could bring James up here, let him feel the breeze, let him see the blue of the sky, hear the rustle of the leaves. You look down and see Jakobs is watching you. The thought of asking him goes through your mind. He sees it and shakes his head.

He knows what you were going to ask.

And you know it is too soon to request, to soon for them to trust you.

Doctor Jakobs gets down to business, and you discuss the doctors' concerns and come up with solutions. You and Stefan were given authorisation to order all the food for the patients' diet and to oversee its preparations in the kitchen. You started James off on nutritional soups and light food and now you have been able to introduce more substantial food. It is already showing a difference.

But, as Jakobs reminds you, they do not want anything introduced that may stimulate him. His food is to be beneficial only. Food that will help with the development of his body.

“And his mind?” you ask, but it is not really a question and Jakobs knows you don't expect an answer.

The exercise program is more restricted. They agreed to letting him get out of bed every day, walking him around, up and down the corridor but no where else. Doctor Jakobs was honest with you. They just need to keep his muscle tone up; everything else they will worry about when the project nears completion. Doctor Jakobs knows you have had all the restraints removed from the bed, but he has not brought this to Lehmanns notice. He feels it is not really something Lehmann needs to know.

You want to ask him for more details of what the future holds for your patient; but you know he cannot tell you. You want to keep this man on your side. He is the only doctor sympathetic to James' Barnes plight.

He tells you the new batons are working out well. Marinov was in charge of issuing them.

When they were first issued you had Marinov use one on you to see what level of shock James would receive if he was touched by one of them. It was enough to make your arm dead for over half an hour. They have higher settings but you were promised that they have been ordered to only use them on the lower setting. Marinov has also promised that the guards have been told that anyone found using theirs on a higher setting will be punished.

“Believe me,” he said grimly “none of us want to be punished by Hydra.”

You believe him.

Marinov has been made supervisor to the guards overseeing your floor. He is the one you are to go to with any problems. And any complaints. So far you have had none. There was a major change in the guards on the floor. The ones from the Gulag have gone. The standards improved. They are no longer the ones who look at you and James with mean looks and smirks. These ones are of a tougher calibre, they are professional. Neither are they just Russians, you have heard some of them talk in different languages: German, French, some languages you do not recognise. You know the war is over and you can see that Hydra is growing, finding roots in all countries, in all cultures.

You mention sedation again and Doctor Jacobs tuts, not because he is annoyed with you but because Lehmann said you would bring it up and he hates to admit when Lehmann is right. “As the patient becomes stronger we will begin to use more sedatives not less. As the project goes on, the sedatives will need to be stronger and the more he will be sedated. This is one issue we will be firm on. If you are not able to do this then now is the time to say.”

He is deadly serious.

It is not open for discussion.

You nod and duck your head to drink. You were afraid of this. Both you and Stefan have noticed how much stronger James Barnes is getting, and obviously the doctors have noticed to. More guards have already been posted and armed with the batons, though too date none of them have had to use them.

The guards still carry their guns. After all, the patient may not be the only danger to them.

“No one has talked to me yet about the new sedatives that will be used,” you say.

“They will. What we use will be Leh...Doctor Lehmanns' choice. I believe he has options that you may not have ever seen or used before.” And that is all he will say.

You know it is time to go back underground, but Doctor Jacob surprises you. He seems genuinely concerned about your pallor and a few moments more will not do any harm. He does not know but these few more moments will end up making him re-evaluate all that, until now, he has taken as being important.

They will even make him question his continual devotion to Hydra.

You are both quiet. You feel that in another time and place you could have been friends, but in your mind you see him working on the patient. And he sees the change in your eyes and seems to know what you are thinking.

“I know what is going through your mind, but you don’t know me and you don’t know my circumstances. I lost my family in the allied bombing. My wife and two children were buried under what had been our house. It took a week to get their bodies out so I could bury them. All I have left is my work. Don't judge me. I think what Hydra is doing is important. We can make a better world.” The last part is almost a whisper to himself.

You are quiet for a moment.

“I'm sorry,” you say. And you do mean it.

“May I tell you a story?” you ask.

He seems surprised, but nods.

You think for a moment. “A few years ago, before I came here, I worked in various hospital field camps. The work was hard, long hours, comforting soldiers whilst they were having limbs amputated or worse, comforting them as they lay dying. Some so young they hadn't even started their lives yet.”

You stop. You know this is going to be difficult, but you need to get him to understand something.

He is listening.

“One afternoon I had just finished my shift. All I wanted was to go back to my bunk lay down and sleep, I couldn't think of men dying any more. I just wanted to sleep. To get away. A group of soldiers came in. They were dragging a dead body along the ground.

These men and their leader were always coming in to camp to try and sell dead body parts to our doctors; we couldn't get them to realise dead organs were of no use to us. I had to talk to one of the doctors first and later when I came out I could hear shooting and laughing.

I should have ignored it, gone to my tent and shut the world out, but I didn't. Instead I went to see what was happening. The group of soldiers had got hold of cheap vodka and were getting drunk. Some of them were scrapping over a pile of belongings that they had just stripped from the corpse they had brought with them and were divvying up their treasure.”

As you picture it in your mind your throat thickens. “A few of them had decided it would be fun to to tie the dead man to a tree - they were drunker than I had ever seen them – and use him for rifle practise. Most of their shots went wide, but a few hit home. They found it so funny when they missed and cheered when they hit the body.”

You look at Jakobs. He is still listening and you can see a look of pity for you in his eyes - but you don’t want that pity. It shouldn't be for you.

“The leader decided it was time to leave. They cut the body down and left him naked and lying in the snow. The leader went to fire a bullet into the dead mans face to obliterate his features. Its what they did, turn a man, their enemy, into nothing but dead meat.

I couldn't stand it and tried to stop him. He turned the rifle on me instead. I thought he was going to kill me but then someone from the camp saw him and yelled. He laughed at me and lowered his rifle. I suppose I must have looked terrified. He spat at my feel and then walked away.

When they had gone I knelt next to the dead man and turned him over to face me. He was foreign...he was so young...so very young...he had had his whole life in front of him and then the war had started and he ended up here, thousands of miles away from his home, dead and being used as target practice. I wonder, do you think he would have married, had children, lived on a farm or worked in a city?” You smile but there are tears in your eyes.

Jakobs realises the question is metaphorical and does not answer, but he does look away.

You continue. “It had started snowing again and the flakes were covering up the wounds. His whole body had suffered terrible injuries. But then as I went to cover him with my coat I realised he was bleeding and when I looked at his face his eyes were open and looking at me.”

Jakobs swears softly under his breath.

“How did I miss it? How did I not notice? Looking back I had seen the trail of blood in the snow when they dragged him into the camp.” Your voice shows the contempt you hold for yourself.

“You were tired, you...”

“No!” You say it louder than you meant to. “No.” You are quieter. “I should have seen. It was my job to help, my job, there was no excuse,” you emphasise.

You are both quiet for a while.

“Did he die?” Jakobs asks.

“No.” You swallow. “No, he lived.” You try to smile but it is more like a grimace. “We looked after him. He was a mess. We bathed and dressed his wounds, set his bones. He was unconscious for most of the time...but it was only a matter of time before someone heard there was a foreigner in the camp. When someone got wind of it they came and took him away.”

Jakobs tries to make you feel better. “When the war ended we sent all the prisoners of war home...he is probably living in some small town now, raising those children you wondered about.”

“Do you think so?” you ask.

He is not sure what the point of your story is but you have gone quiet. Very quiet. The day is getting late, there is still work to be done. He stands up and so do you. You have drunk your coffee but not touched your cake.

As you walk to go into the building and the elevator that will take you back, you look over your shoulder at the final sunshine of the day. You take a deep breath of fresh air then you enter the building. Jakobs senses a sadness about you. He is quiet whilst you both ride down in the elevator. The elevator comes to a stop and you both get out.

“I'll let you go and get back to what you were doing,” he says, and goes to walk the other way down the corridor. His mind is already putting your story to one side and thinking about his work.

Before you go back through the gate you turn and call his name, he turns. “The man in the camp...I never told you his name did I?”

He shakes his head. Why would it matter to him? Maybe he has indulged you for too long. Everyone has their sad stories about the war.

You look straight into his eyes. “His name was James Buchanan Barnes.”

His widen in shock.

You have reached the point of your story. “ And as we both know, he never made it home. He didn't get to meet the girl of his dreams and have those children. If I had just let him die that day it would of been the kindest thing I could have ever done.”

You see the numbness as James Buchanan Barnes suddenly becomes a person in Jakobs' mind. A man who had a life. Someone who had a past but no future. They had taken that away from him. He wasn't a lab experiment, he wasn't there through choice and Doctor Jakobs and the others have broken their Hippocratic oath.

You turn and go through the gate.

Jacobs watches her leave. His mind working, his thoughts very much now on the patient; on the man called James Barnes.

On the point of her story.