In (Frozen) Hell With You (Band of Brothers, Doc Roe)

[lillian]

The natural successor to Generation Kill is of course Band of Brothers. Specifically Bastogne. And BabeRoe. Because, look at them 

Let me know what you think! 

--

Heffron had finally quit with that awful cough long enough to fall asleep. Gene was glad to hear him snoring away like a lawnmower, and even happier when he didn’t wake up when Spina got up to check on the men. God knows some of them would be too stubborn to come find a medic on their own. 

Spina hadn’t wanted Heffron to sleep alone after Julian got hit, so he’d gone and fetched him, bringing him back to the medics’ foxhole. Gene had to concede that it wasn’t wise to have both medics in the same hole on the front line, but it was dark and cold and he sure as hell didn’t want to sleep alone and defenseless in the forest. 

Gene was a combat medic, not a “real” doctor, but he trusted his own common sense. He’d tucked most of the wool blanket around Heffron, sealing in the heat from his slight fever. His kit thermometer had been smashed in the drop over Normandy, but the old fashioned palm-to-forehead seemed to work just fine, diagnostically speaking. Heffron had the same bad cold that a lot of them did—they were exhausted and freezing and pushed beyond what their bodies could take. He didn’t like the sound of Heffron’s cough, but since he didn’t need morphine or stitches, there wasn’t much he could do for him. 

He was just glad to see him get some rest. 

Gene sniffled against his runny nose, shifting slightly to rub it on his shoulder. It had been numb for days now, probably red as the tips of his fingers, but it smarted in the cold. He sniffled again, feeling an irritated prickle in his left nostril. Tears welled in his eyes as he held a finger to his septum, trying not to move and jostle Heffron. 

The first one was silent, just a pulse. Teeth locked together and vision swimming with tears, Gene held still. His breath hitched again—

“nn’tschh!”

Held in with a clenched jaw against his closed fist, it was urgent and unsatisfying. He didn’t have time to open his eyes before—

“nn’TSHH!”

Another tight inhale—

“hk’djSHH!” He uncurled his shoulders, trying to ease gently back into the packed earth wall behind him. 

The blanket beside him shifted. 

“G’bless ya, Doc.” Heffron’s voice was a thin, sleepy scratch. 

Merde. 

“Thadk you.” 

“Keep warm.” Heffron tugged at the blanket again, clumsily patting it over Gene’s chest. A moment later, he was asleep again, head heavy on Gene’s shoulder. 

-fin-

Edited September 4 by lillian

[justlogan]

I don't know the series but this made me curious about it and was really really cute. You may have just helped me understand the appeal of stifles 😅 thanks for sharing!

[lillian]

On 9/4/2024 at 7:37 AM, justlogan said:

I don't know the series but this made me curious about it and was really really cute. You may have just helped me understand the appeal of stifles 😅 thanks for sharing!

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I always love introducing people to new shows! eta and LOVE to spread the gospel of stifles.

I have a small continuation, inspired by the sickfics on ao3 and my enduring love for Joe Liebgott. Might do Webgott next

__

“AESHH! –AESHH’ew!” The harsh double woke Gene from his half-sleep. He sat up, scanning for danger, before a few barky coughs to his left reminded him of where he was. 

“Oh,” he said lamely, willing his heart rate to return to normal. "Bless you.” 

Heffron honked into a crumpled handkerchief. “Sorry Doc, did’t bead to wake you.” 

"It's... it's alright."

–

“Doc?”

“Let ‘im be, Babe, can’t you see he’s tryna sleep like the rest of us?”

Heffron –Babe– was hovering in front of him, the corners of his mouth tipped down in an anxious frown. 

“He’s shakin.’”

“Again, like the rest of us.”

Liebgott sniffled and coughed, and Doc glanced at him, only to be met with a hard stare. Doc turned back to Babe, who was rubbing his shoulder. 

“You don’t look right, Doc, you okay?”

“Fine,” Gene said automatically. He swallowed painfully and did another self-scan. His head ached, and so did his throat, and the hot and cold shivers he’d been trying to hide made him think he was probably running a fever. He didn’t have any aspirin to spare, he’d discovered when he’d woken up like this, so he’d decided to tough it out. He took a careful sip from his canteen and gestured with it. “Probably not drinking enough water.”

Babe looked like he wanted to argue with him, but when Gene shook his head, a silent, firm no, he got the hint.

__

“hr’gnxt!” The stifled sneeze was mercifully quiet, but it jerked him in a way that made his sore muscles ache all over again. 

“Gesundheit,” Liebgott muttered beside him, so low it could have been a crunch of gravel under the wheels of the truck. 

–

Another cold little town, more patrols, and a gray late winter sky threatening to dump on them. Gene was in what he liked to think of as “standby mode” – time outside of active combat where he didn’t have to be on alert for calls for “medic!” He could go through the motions of unloading, reloading, tidying, inventorying, without having to put much thought into it. 

Except he did have to put some effort into hiding his worsening cold. Everyone was still coughing and sniffling, overall health of the company not improved by the damp and the meager supplies, so he didn’t stand out. He knew he was still running a fever, though, and he was increasingly unsteady on his feet. 

He was inventorying his share of the medical supplies they’d just received (still no aspirin) and muffling cough after dry, hacking cough into his sleeve, when he heard someone rap lightly on the hood of the supply truck. 

“Hey, Doc.” It was Liebgott, dressed in a new-looking overcoat and holding another. 

Gene nodded to him, not trusting his voice. Liebgott held out the spare coat. “They just dropped these off. Late as hell after what we just been through but I wanted to make sure you got yours.” 

“Thank you,” Gene said, finding his voice exactly as he thought it’d sound as he took the offered coat. He coughed again, surprised at how winded it left him.

Liebgott winced. “I don’t think anyone’d mind if you took some off the top for yourself, ya know. Medicine, I mean. You need to take care of yourself.”

“Thank you, Joe.” 

"I mean it, Doc, or I'll sic Babe on ya."

Edited September 8 by lillian

[lillian]

I wrote some more! Sorry the timeline's a little jumpy. I've only watched the show once so I'm not intimately familiar with the timeline so these snippets kind of exist in the empty space between action. Liebgott's definitely becoming my favorite of the series but Doc is so cuuuute with his lil cold nose and sad eyes.

--

(A few days earlier)

“What about a coat? He got a coat?” 

“Shut up about the coat, Liebgott, no one’s got one!” 

Goddamn army couldn’t even get them coats. Yeah, he was cold, and he made sure everyone knew it, but the medic shivering beside him was starting to worry him. Even in the dark, his nose looked red and chapped as hell and several of those shudders over the past hour had definitely been expertly silenced sneezes. 

He understood why Doc was going to the trouble to hide that he was coming down with something. 

Another jerky shudder, this time with a stuffy sigh after. The transport truck hit another hole, bouncing Joe right into Doc’s shoulder. He could feel how warm he was through the thin cotton of their combat jackets. 

“HRSHh’uu!”

Apparently the bump had distracted Doc from however he was managing to keep his sneezes silent. 

“HETttchh’uu!”

Or he just couldn’t anymore. 

“Gesundheit,” Joe said, going for sympathy. 

“Thadk y– HRUSHH’uh!” 

“Jeez, Doc, bless ya.” Babe was looking at him with wide eyes, guilty if Joe didn’t know any better. 

Doc peeked at them from behind his hands, red in all the places where his skin wasn’t blanched white with cold. 

It was a little ridiculous, Joe thought. They’d been through hell together, back stateside and over here. Doc spent all day with his hands in other people’s guts and here he was, bothered by a little snot. His own snot. Babe looked like he wanted to cry, reaching out and squeezing Doc’s knee. 

“Sorry, Doc,” he said, for some reason. Fucking Catholics. 

Doc sneezed again, wet and congested and miserable, and Joe found himself reaching into his jacket for his spare handkerchief. 

“Here.” He held it up where Doc couldn’t ignore it, maybe waving the little square of green cotton more insistently than was called for. Blow your goddamn nose, he would have said to anyone else, rolling his eyes and acting like he didn’t care, but Doc looked like he needed someone to care about him. That someone was obviously Babe, but the man looked so distraught that he apparently needed some help. 

Doc took the handkerchief with cold fingers and a grateful smile. 

“Thadks, Joe.” 

It was the first time he hadn’t called him Liebgott. 

--

Let me know what you think! Should I torture Doc more? Should someone try to take care of Lieb too? 

ETA I can't decide if I should share videos here but these are my two favorite fan edits (cw: cinematic war imagery) of Liebgott and of course, Doc

Edited September 9 by lillian

[secret19]

More torture!!!!! 😂

[justlogan]

Loving the updates and um...yes it sounds awful but I'd love more doc torture please 😅😷😷 there's this appeal in seeing the ones who always take care of others needing some care themselves. Him also not being able to hold his sneezes back was very nice to see 😷

[lillian]

1 hour ago, justlogan said:

Loving the updates and um...yes it sounds awful but I'd love more doc torture please 😅😷😷 there's this appeal in seeing the ones who always take care of others needing some care themselves. Him also not being able to hold his sneezes back was very nice to see 😷

Et voila!

Note: fires probably break all kind of black-out/light discipline whatever, but Doc needed to be bundled up in front of a roaring fire I don’t make the rules. 

He wasn’t keeping an eye on Doc. He just wanted to make sure he got his handkerchief back. The fact that he picked a bunk near him meant nothing. Neither did getting him a hot cup of coffee or snagging an extra blanket from an officer’s rack for him. And if he was concerned about him stifling sneeze after sneeze into his fist or how vacant and glassy his eyes were starting to look, whose business was that? 

So, yeah, he might have cornered him and made sure he took his issued winter coat (little late for that, by the way) instead of trying to give it away. 

So the fuck what?

–
Gene buried his face in his blanket, trying to muffle his stubborn cough. He didn’t think he had what Heffron’d had, his was… snottier. More of a head cold than anything. Except for the cough, but that could be his sore throat, or the damp, or…

A tin cup appeared in front of his face. 

“Here.” 

He slipped a hand out of the blanket to take it, and cold hands wrapped around his as he brought it shakily to his mouth. The ache in his chest soothed a little, he glanced up, catching only an outline of a face before there was a hand on his forehead. 

“Christ, Doc, you’re burning up.” 

The hand moved to his cheek, and the faint sound of dog tags clinked as the figure shifted. 

“You’d think being a medic you’da–” The voice trailed off when Gene started to cough again, desperately trying to choke down the noise. The hand was on his back, thumping softly. “Easy, don’t smother yourself–” Gene coughed harder, vision swimming. 

“Jesus H., you’re as bad as Heffron was.”

Someone flipped a light on, and Gene opened his eyes to see Joe Liebgott crouched in front of him. 

“Turn that off, will ya?” 

It was dark again. 

“He okay?” asked someone from the doorway. 

“No,” Joe said, “no, he ain’t.”

“He sick?” The voice sounded disbelieving. 

“Yeah, he’s sick!” Joe wasn’t bothering to keep his voice down, and someone in the next bunk popped their head up. Gene couldn’t remember who, his head hurt too much to think. A wave of guilt washed over him. He knew Babe was on watch tonight, but he couldn’t remember who he was bunking with… what kind of a medic couldn’t recognize… things were starting to feel hazy.

“...fire downstairs…”

Joe was hauling him up and wrapping an arm around his waist, half-dragging him to the door.

–
Dick Winters was grateful to finally have somewhere to put his men that wasn’t a transport truck or a hole in the ground. The house was old, but it was warm. they were inside. 

He was glancing over Nix’s report while Nix himself settled into an easy chair with a filched glass and a bottle of Vat 69. Suddenly, the door to the parlor banged open.

Dick and Nix were on their feet before Liebgott could explain why he was half-dragging a semi-conscious Doc Roe. 

“Does he need a medic?” Nix was asking, voice slurring only a little. “Is he injured?”

“He is the medic,” Liebgott shot back, hastily adding a sir, “Spina’s out on patrol!” 

Nix looked panicked, frozen in place. Dick stepped forward and helped Liebgott get Roe onto the couch. He could feel the heat radiating off of him even as Liebgott explained. 

“He’s been sick, sir, real sick, and I didn’t– I tried to–”

Liebgott was spiraling, his hot temper warped into something else. Dick grabbed his shoulder. 

“It’s alright, Joe, take a breath.” Dick wasn’t a medic, but he was the commander of these men. He knew what to do. “We’ll take care of him.” 

Dick crouched next to Doc, feeling his forehead. He was running a high fever. “Joe, grab me a basin of cold water and a washcloth.” Liebgott nodded and got to his feet. “Nix – you know how to make a hot water bottle?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I can figure that out.”

“Good, go.”

Once the room was empty of fretful soldiers, Dick shook Doc’s shoulder. “Doc? You with us?”

Doc blinked open bleary dark eyes. “Hm? You need me?” He tried to sit up, but Dick pushed him back down.

“No, you need to rest. Everything’s alright.”

Roe coughed, hard, into his fist. “Sorry, sir, I think I got a cold…”

“Well, Doc, Liebgott thinks you’re dying.” 

“I’m… not dying.” Doc glanced around, “‘f you were busy… sorry t’...” He cut himself off with another wracking cough, and Dick helped him sit up against the pillows. 

“Eugene.”

That got his attention.

“You took care of all of us in Bastogne. Now it’s time to take care of you.”

Doc’s brow unfurrowed slightly. He huffed a broken laugh. 

“Okay,” he said with a small smile.

~fin~
 

[justlogan]

So so so cute 😭 everyone's reactions felt so in character too. Absolutely loved it! 💖

[lillian]

13 hours ago, secret19 said:

More torture!!!!! 😂

 

12 hours ago, justlogan said:

So so so cute 😭 everyone's reactions felt so in character too. Absolutely loved it! 💖

Ahh thank you guys! I’m so glad everyone comes across as in character! I’m still new to the series myself, and it’s a well-established fandom so I was surprised to see nothing on the forum already! 

I have a half-formed idea of the next part! Comments/replies keep the ideas flowing! Thank y’all for the feedback so far!

[justlogan]

4 hours ago, lillian said:

I have a half-formed idea of the next part! Comments/replies keep the ideas flowing! Thank y’all for the feedback so far!

I've been binge watching it and am like midway or so through episode 7 and I'm loving doc so much 😭. I kept thinking about this story while watching. Also couldn't help but want to see their original CO with some allergies or a cold when I was on episode one. He's SO rude. I was like ''hmm how well would he be barking out orders then I wonder?'' 😅 

[lillian]

2 hours ago, justlogan said:

I've been binge watching it and am like midway or so through episode 7 and I'm loving doc so much 😭. I kept thinking about this story while watching. Also couldn't help but want to see their original CO with some allergies or a cold when I was on episode one. He's SO rude. I was like ''hmm how well would he be barking out orders then I wonder?'' 😅 

Oooh it’s about to get Real Sad!! I’m so happy my story introduced you! It’s really good tv. Baberoe is a cute ship, but Webgott is the only pairing that were exes before they got together lol

and boy do I have Feelings about what this show does to liebgott. 
 

I’m laughing so much about sobel… 😂