Ups And Downs

By:  M. J. Cogburn and C. E. Krawiec

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Trevor addressed the envelope, stuffed both letters into it, stamped it and made sure that it was ready for Rick when he got back from the mess hall to give him his food.  Before his roommate entered the room, Trevor picked up the letter one last time and gently pressed his lips to it as he closed his eyes thinking of his love.  “Feel my heart, Siren.”

He’d eaten his dinner, what there was of it that Rick had brought to him, and then began to study as required by Sgt. Donaldson.  He had continued to study until fifteen minutes until lights out.  He maneuvered himself to the restroom then back in time to get back into bed, once again.  Turning onto his side, he closed his eyes and thought of the redheaded woman that held his heart.  A small grin came to his face as he realized that in his dreams, Siren was always with him.  Even as he drifted off into sleep, he almost thought he felt her lips against his cheek and he uttered her name ever so softly.

PART ONE

Hearing their morning wake up call, Trevor immediately sat up in bed, swiveled his legs to the floor and without thinking, stood and started toward his closet.  The immediate pain followed by him swaying slightly to the side and beginning to topple to the floor was enough to stop him.  He blew through the pain and followed it up with some special words that he didn't dare utter.  It was feeling hands on him that caused him to look up to see his roommate, Rick Donnelly, shaking his head.

"I know you are a go-getter, Trevor, but doctor's orders are doctors orders."

"It was gut reaction, Rick," he countered.

"Well, Mr. Gut, it's going to land you back in the infirmary and then you-know-who will be barking down your throat."

"God forbid," Trevor muttered under his breath as he allowed Rick to help him back to his bed.  Dropping down on it, Trevor didn't need an encouragement to swing his injured foot back onto the bed.  Once settled in a seated position, he glared at his ankle and gave a frustrated sigh.

Rick paused in the doorway on his way to the restroom upon hearing the sigh. He couldn't help grinning at the sight of his friend and fellow recruit's predicament.  "Look on the bright side, Trevor," he said. 

“There's a bright side to this?"

"Yeah," Rick's grin broadened.  "You get outta the physical training, and get to spend the better part of the next two days laying in bed."

"I'd rather it be my choice to be lounging in bed than forced to," Trevor retorted.

Rick laughed and continued about the business of getting dressed out for morning PT.  As he was leaving their room a few minutes later, he paused in the doorway. "You want me to bring you breakfast after we finish PT, or..."

"Oh no," Trevor said firmly, sparing a glance at the crutches leaning against the wall beside his bed.  "I'll manage to get to the mess hall," he replied definitely.  "That is, after I get dressed."

The sound of Corporal Monroe’s whistle, summoning the recruits to assemble for physical training, made Trevor flap a hand at him. "Go on, get outta here. Otherwise who knows what Donaldson will lay on you for being late."

Rick grinned at Trevor, waved a half-goodbye, then headed out of the room to get in the lineup as quickly as he possibly could. 

Trevor barely glanced down at his foot once more before Sergeant Alesandro Donaldson appeared in the doorway.  Knowing that the man couldn't hop to as quickly as the rest of the men at the moment with the doctor's orders, Alesandro quirked an eyebrow at the recruit still on the bed.  "Didn't you hear the call, recruit?" he asked plainly.  Seeing Trevor's head come up, Alesandro Donaldson found the situation amusing to see the recruit do his level best to come to attention still sitting on the bed with his foot propped up.

"Yes, Sergeant Donaldson.  I made the mistake of getting up on my ankle when the bugle call came.  Excuse me, Sergeant, for not coming to full attention."

Quirking his lips slightly, he licked them, took a step into the room as he met the recruit's eyes.  Placing his hands behind his back, he said, "Don't forget what I said last night, recruit."

"No, Sergeant Donaldson," Trevor responded promptly.  He had a pretty good idea of how he looked, sitting on his bed dressed only in his tee shirt and boxers and trying to maintain an ‘at attention' posture, but it was the best Trevor could do.  All he could do was wait.

Alesandro Donaldson studied the recruit for a moment longer then said, "By the time the squad is finished with PT, I expect you to be dressed and ready to go to chow, Mr. Conroy."

"Yes, Sergeant," Trevor responded, giving a single quick nod.

"After that, you'll attend classes with the squad," Alesandro spelled it out in crisp, brief terms. "After lunch you will report to the physical training room and work on upper body strength training.  One of the trainers is expecting you promptly at 13:30 hours."  He paused a moment, executed a sharp turn and exited the barracks.

Trevor sat motionless for another moment or so then relaxed against the plain headboard and closed his eyes.  "I will be so glad to see the last of that s.o.b., it's not funny," he muttered as opened his eyes and carefully swung his legs off the bed.  Reaching for the crutches, with some careful maneuvering and balancing, Trevor got on his feet and made his way slowly toward the bathroom.  The way he saw it, he was going to need just about every minute until the squad got back to get showered and dressed.

By the time that the squad was back, Trevor was surprisingly leaning against one of the trees outside the barracks, slightly pale and exhausted just from the excruciatingly careful manners he had used while he was hobbling around on the crutches.  He wasn't surprised; however, when the sergeant came straight over to him and got right up into his personal space.  'When will this guy leave me alone?' Trevor thought to himself as he looked into Sergeant Donaldson's eyes.

Returning the squad to the barracks after completing the daily PT session, including a two mile run, Sgt. Donaldson was more than a bit surprised to see Recruit Conroy waiting outside the barracks, in uniform, including jacket and gloves, and propped up on his crutches.

"Squad… fall into formation!" Corporal Monroe barked.  The recruits obeyed instantly and after another moment passed they were dismissed with, "You've got fifteen minutes."

Alesandro watched the squad break formation and hurry inside.  After two weeks, they had, to a man, learned that when given a timing, what was given was what was meant.  As the last few men rushed inside the barracks, Alesandro marched across to where Trevor Conroy waited, watching him approach. D.I. Donaldson didn't mince words when he reached the recruit. In fact, he didn't stop until he was right up in Trevor Conroy's face, causing the recruit to lean back hard against the tree.

"You were given orders... doctor's orders... to stay in bed and off that foot for three days, Mister Conroy," Alesandro barked crisply, now nose to nose with Trevor Conroy.  "So why are you outside, mister?"

Trevor's jaw slackened then he immediately tightened it with anger.  He couldn't believe the man's audacity.  He was following his order from just this morning.  He blinked, straightened up on his crutches, never putting his foot to the ground.  "I was following your orders, Sergeant."

Privately, Alesandro Donaldson gave the man marks for not knuckling under.  However, "Your orders, Mr. Conroy," he enunciated clearly, his breath making soft white plumes in the frosty Canadian winter morning air, "were to be ready when the squad returned. You were not," he emphasized the last word, "ordered to wait outside, were you?"

Trevor's reviewed the order in question and realized that the sergeant was correct.  Inwardly kicking himself, he nonetheless, straightened up as much as he could, balancing with the crutches, and responded, "No, Sergeant Donaldson.  I apologize, Sergeant."

Alesandro let Trevor Conroy sweat for a moment before speaking, stepping back a pace before doing so.  "Mister Conroy," he said firmly.  "You will return inside the barracks, to your bunk.  There you will wait until the squad has reassembled to go to breakfast.  Then and only then will you get off your bunk and join the squad.  At that time, you will, for the duration of your time on crutches, trade places with Recruit Andrews in the last row.  Is that understood, Mister Conroy?"

Trevor's mouth almost dropped open but he managed to keep it closed then responded as was expected. "Yes, Sergeant."

Alesandro took a couple of steps to one side. "Then get moving, Mister Conroy."

"Yes, Sergeant Donaldson!" Trevor responded crisply then moved as fast, but as carefully as possible, on his crutches back into the barracks.  He didn't stop until he was in the room he shared with Rick Donnelly and he plopped down on the side of his bed then swung his strapped foot onto it.  He was still sitting there when Rick entered a few minutes, a towel slung around his hips, fresh from the showers.

Rick Donnelly ran his hands through his hair as he entered the room and shook his head at the man sitting on the opposite bed.  "You must either be dense, or you can't remember things, huh, Conroy?" he grinned when Trevor just snorted.  "Did you get chewed on?"

Trevor raised his hand and made an inch with his thumb and forefinger and grinned back at his roommate.  "Only a little.  I'll be in back of the squad.  I'll be trading places with Recruit Andrews."

Rick's eyes widened as he turned back to face Trevor from getting his clothes from the closet.  "He's moving you to the back with the... girls?"

Trevor shook his head at his roommate's words.  "No, not with them.  I'm trading because of the crutches.  I'm sure that he doesn't want anyone to get tripped with them swinging."

Rick just nodded and finished getting dressed, last of all putting his boots on. Standing up, he watched his bunkmate get up on his feet and get comfortable on the crutches again.  He didn't say anything, watching Trevor glance at his notebook and the two textbooks needed for the morning classes.  He grinned when his friend cursed under his breath then, ribbed, "Want me to carry your books for you... lady?"  He laughed aloud when Trevor turned a narrow stare on him, saying, "Sure. It'll free me up to crack you over the head with one of my crutches."

PART TWO

By the time that breakfast was over and they were maneuvering to their classes, Trevor felt as if he had burned holes into his arms from carrying his weight on them.  Even from where he was in the squad lineup, he still pulled in last at every class, plopped down into his chair, and stretched out his leg to try to relax, but his arms were beginning to cramp from the strain.  After the last class, he stood up and cringed when he put his weight on the crutches again. 

He was doing okay until he set out from the class and headed out into the snow as the rest of the squad did and hit an icy patch that made his right crutch skim out.  He was able to maneuver in the air only enough to land on his shoulder and hip on the ice and snow covered ground.  

"Recruit Conroy!" a feminine voice called out then rushed back to where her fallen fellow recruit just lay on the ground.  "Mr. Conroy... Trevor... are you okay?"

When he felt himself falling in spite of his best effort to stay upright, Trevor only had time to yip before he hit the ground.  He was hunched on his right side, his shoulder and hip throbbing from the impact.  The sudden closeness of a woman's voice caused him to open his eyes and glance around.  Seeing Kristen Aldridge, temporarily the recruit to his left, kneeling beside him, he just nodded to her question before verbalizing it.

"Yeah," he said wearily, loosing his grip on the crutches to use his hands to maneuver himself into a sitting position. Looking into her brown eyes as she remained by his side, he offered a sheepish smile, admitting, "I'm okay.  Just bruised my... pride a little."

By this time, the squad continuing to march toward the mess hall for lunch, none other than Sgt. Donaldson, having seen the tumble, came up to the two recruits. "What's the matter, Mister Conroy?" he asked.

Trevor sighed, but didn't miss a beat as he looked up at his D.I.  "One of my crutches slipped on a patch of ice, Sergeant."

Alesandro's brows pulled lightly together in a small frown.  "Are you all right, Mister Conroy?"

"Yes, Sergeant," Trevor replied.  "Just a little bump. Nothing broken, Sergeant."  He didn't say anything when the D.I. then stepped up and aided Kristen Aldridge in assisting him to get up again.  By the way he was flanked by the pair the rest of the way to the mess hall, Trevor almost felt like a child being shepherded by his parents while learning to walk.

Lunch was typical, but as far as Trevor's aching body was concerned, it wasn't a long enough break.  Reaching for his crutches, he hesitated when a familiar step caught his hearing and he hesitated before looking up.  He took a chance in remaining seated as he said, "Yes, Sergeant Donaldson?"

Alesandro Donaldson's job was to whip every new squad of recruits into a cohesive unit, as well as make sure every man and woman in that squad, was stretched and pushed to their limits in order to cull the best, most determined and loyal to serve Lothos in security in one of his complexes or one of the many hi-tech businesses.  However, he also knew when to ease up on that driving; now was one of those times.

"Mister Conroy," Alesandro said, his voice not unkind, but still direct. "Report back to the barracks and get in bed."  When he saw the man's eyes widen and his mouth start to open to speak, he held up a hand. "That is an order, Mister Conroy.  And you will remain in bed, exclusively, for the next two days. You will study there and have your meals there as well."

This time Trevor couldn't keep his mouth from dropping open, but he recovered quickly. The way he felt at the moment, he wasn't about to argue even a little bit.  "Yes, Sergeant," he responded firmly. Gratefully, he got to his feet and with a couple of his fellow recruits going along to be sure he didn't slip on any icy patches again, got back to the barracks.

Sinking down on the bed, Trevor let the crutches fall as he closed his eyes.  "I'm not moving unless the building catches on fire," he muttered.

Rick Donnelly looked at Trevor and couldn't help but grin at Trevor's words.  "Yeah, well, could you at least go to the restroom when you need to there, Trev?"  Letting Trevor's books plop on the bed beside Trevor, Rick leaned over to where he placed his and looked at his partner.  "I'll be back later after class.”

Trevor cracked one eye open to look up at his friend and fellow recruit. "You know where to find me," was all he said before closing his eyes again.  He laid still, a grin plastered across his face as he listened to the ones who assisted him, leaving the barracks to rejoin the squad to go to their next round of classes. He heard a door shut and for a moment everything was quiet.

A moment later, the door to Trevor and Rick's door slowly opened and Madeline Tenney stepped into the doorway and looked at the man lying on the bed.  "Recruit Conroy?" she called to the man softly as she saw that his eyes were closed.  She wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep or not.  She didn't want to disturb him too much before she had to leave to go to class.

Though he'd had eight hours sleep last night, Trevor's exertions of the morning had succeeded in wearing him down to the point that his body yielded with little resistance when the opportunity for an unexpected nap presented itself.  As he was drifting lightly downward into slumber, he registered a soft sound, followed by what sounded like an even softer voice speaking to him.

"Hmmm?" he hummed under his breath, not bothering to open his eyes.

Moving slowly into the room, Madeline swallowed as she raised her hand and slightly scratched her neck.  "Do you need anything, Trevor?" she asked him softly.  "I could get you something while I'm out."

The voice was so very soft, somewhere in his mind; Trevor accepted that it had to be a dream. Wiggling a bit to settle more comfortably, he smiled to himself as he answered the dream voice. "Nothing that a couple of hours alone with you wouldn't help," he murmured softly. Comfortable in his dream, Trevor waited to hear Siren's soft giggle. 

Madeline grinned as she took another step toward him.  "Oh, how many hours?" she said a bit louder.

What he heard instead of the soft giggle snatched him sharply up from sleep and stared up at the figure standing a couple of feet from the bed.  "Ohhhh geezus," he mumbled then reflexively started to sit up.  "I am so sorry," he began.

She couldn't help the smile that was plastered on her face when he sat up and began to apologize.  Stepping up even closer to Trevor Conroy's bed, Madeline looked at the booted foot on his bed.  "Do you need some help taking off your boot?  I have a few minutes," she said as she shifted her books to the side of her body as she looked at him.

Figuring he'd already 'over exercised' his foot by sticking it in his mouth, Trevor glanced at his boot-shod foot then back to Madeline Tenney.  "Ah... no, I can manage. I appreciate the offer though."

"How so?  I know that you are flexible, Trevor.  We've all seen each other work out, but when we are hurt, we all love to be babied.  Now, let me help you out of your boot."  Setting down her books on the bed behind her, she turned back to Trevor lying on the bed and reached out and began to untie his boot.  Without looking up at his face, she untied his boot then very slowly managed it off his foot never once hearing him hiss out a breath. 

"How'd you do that without it hurting?" Trevor asked his expression one of amazement.

Madeline smiled as she turned and picked up her books once more.  "I've dealt with sprains all my life, Trevor.  My seven brothers and sisters all had them at one point in my life and I took care of them all before I came here."  Glancing at the clock on the wall, she looked back at Trevor.  "Go ahead and relax and sleep, then hit the books.  It's time to go.  See you in a bit."

Madeline started toward the door, but when Trevor called out her name after she had turned, she looked back over her shoulder at him.

"Hey, Madeline," Trevor called out. When she paused to look back at him, he simply said, "Thanks. I appreciate your help."  He watched her turn to leave but got her attention again, saying sheepishly, "Uh... that other thing... that strictly between us, okay?"  He took her grin and wink as a "yes". 

This time, he waited until he heard the door leading out of the barracks close firmly, followed a minute later by the sound of the D.I.'s voice giving the order to march.  Only when he could no longer hear that sound did Trevor remove his other boot before resuming a prone position on the bed.  Within a couple of minutes he was snoozing quietly.

By the time that the recruits showed back up at the barracks tired and exhausted not only from the trek, but from the surprise test that had been thrown at them, Rick Donnelly shuffled into his shared quarters in the barrack and plopped down on his bunk before he slung himself over onto his side.  He opened his eyes to see a bemused Trevor Conroy on the other bunk, a book held in his hands.  "Take a boot... a book... anything... and pummel me with it, please," Rick pleaded playfully.

The nap he'd slipped into after lunch hadn't lasted long enough, as far as Trevor was concerned.  In fact, it was the sound of a heavy knock on the door of his room that had jerked him awake in time to see the inquiring face of Corporal Frederick Monroe watching him from the half open doorway.  Trevor had spent the balance of the day studying avidly with only a couple of brief breaks in between.  He was nearing the end of reviewing for one of the several weekly tests that everyone was subject to, when he heard his roommate enter.  He barely spared a glimpse sideways when Rick flopped on his bed and made his plea.

Flipping the page, Trevor kept his eyes on it even as he said, "Why should you get off easy with just a mere "book or boot beating"?  If the rest of us have to get through it, so do you, Donnelly."

Rick sighed and whimpered as he closed his eyes.  "Oh... okay," he said as he righted himself.  "How's the foot?" he asked finally. 

Seeing Trevor slightly lower the book and look at his foot on the pillow, then look back at the book, he said, "It's still attached and painful."

Rick nodded.  "You missed out on the test.  I'm sure that they'll want you to take it as soon as you are able to, so... don't ask me what's on it.  My brain is fried anyway."

The sound of a whistle got both men's attention; it got Rick up off the bed and stacking his books on one corner of the dresser.  Turning back to his friend, he said, "What do you want for dinner?  Or should I just choose one from column “A", one from column "B" and one from column "C" and surprise you?"

That last comment got a chuckle out of Trevor. Looking up from the passage he'd been reading he said, "I think I'm brave enough for an adventure.  Surprise me." Indicating the book on his lap, he added, "I'll probably fall asleep reading this darned thing."  The words barely passed his lips when there was a light knock on the door. He and Rick looked up in tandem to see Madeline Tenney looking in, a knowing sort of little smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. Trevor felt his face get a trifle warm when she asked, "How many hours do you need with your book, Trevor?"  He deliberately ignored Rick's, "What are you talking about?" The tone of the other man's voice told him he'd latched on quickly to what their fellow recruit had implied between the words, and not for anything was he going to give Rick Donnelly any more ammunition.  "Nothing," was all he said.