Kurt hurriedly dropped a letter into the mailbag as he adjusted the strap on his bag. He knew that he probably wouldn't need it on the helicopter, they were fully stocked with supplies; but he knew in an emergency that he would want to have his own bag; he knew just where everything was without having to look. He checked one last time that it was stocked as he rushed towards where the chopper was surely waiting for him. He glimpsed the rice balls Ahn had brought by earlier another thank you for his help delivering Be and the newest jar of peanut butter Blaine had sent. He briefly thought of running back to his bunk to leave them behind, but knew he didn't have the time.

The call had come in an half an hour before, just enough time to finish his letter and move out. One of the regular evac medics had hit his head just before loading into the chopper on a call, there was no one else, and he was volunteered for the job. There was less danger inside the chopper than on the ground so Kurt didn't mind.

The helicopter was indeed waiting for him and he quickly jumped aboard. No sooner had he sat down than it took off. He put on the headset to quickly brief with the pilot. Alpha company was under heavy fire and had sustained many wounded. Two other choppers were already in route to pick up the first of the wounded. Jackson was just explaining the layout of the area when gunfire rang through the air. Jackson swore and Kurt clutched to his seat looking around. A bullet hole cracked the window just to his left. Another to his right. It was then Kurt saw the problem. The radio was smoking and silent.

"Damn it, communications down. I know where we are going, flown this way a million times; but we have no way of letting anyone know what is going on."

" Are we turning back?" Kurt asked suddenly thinking of the men waiting to be rescue, counting on their help to survive.

"No, we will pick up one load, have them radio ahead to know to have another chopper ready when we return." Jackson said, knowing it would be against orders, but wanting to help those boys out there as much as he could. Minutes, hell, even seconds counted out here and he knew how to do his job.

At the evac point, Kurt helped the combat medic load four men on the chopper. He wished the unknown boy good luck before he rushed back to his company to tell the radio operator to relay the message and to seek out more wounded if there were any. Kurt jumped into the back of the chopper and got to work accessing his new charges. He was so deep in his work he barely registered the shots being fired at them, or Jackson yelling back to hold on as he arched around trying to avoid more gunfire. A few minutes passed in silence as Kurt carefully lifted the foil blanket off the last man. His shoulder was a mess, but palpating his back it seemed like no bones were broken, he was lucky. He was just telling the man, Winters, that it would be an easy fix when more shots rang through the air. The copter lurched before it began spinning. Kurt tried to find something to hold onto. The stretcher Winters was on being the only thing in reach. Everyone else was strapped in but Kurt's body was free to swing about as he clung on. Pain shot up his leg as something heavy knocked against it. Winters was clutching on Kurt bag as it flew and almost hitting his face. Yells surrounded Kurt as his mind flew to Blaine. He would never see him again. He would never kiss his lips one last time. Crunching metal and smashing glass filled the air as the helicopter careened through trees before stopping with a thud.

Kurt yelled to Jackson asking if he was alright. Jackson groaned that he was okay. Kurt made to stand and the pain in his leg doubled. He looked down to see a jagged piece of bloody bone jutting through his now blood pinked skin visible through his shredded pant leg. "Oh fuck," he breathed feeling nausea building at the sight. It wasn't the worst he had seen, but it was the first Kurt had seen on his own body aside from normal scrapes and bruises.

"Oh damn," Winters yelled trying to sit up and see Kurt better. "What the hell are we going to do?"

Kurt took a deep breath, steadying himself. "First of all I am going to check that everyone is okay. Then I will do what I can for you. Hopefully someone will find us soon."

"But your leg, Doc." Winters said clearly thinking Kurt was crazy.

"Can wait." He said with a pointed look. "I need your help Jackson"

Jackson pushed his way to the back. He did seem to be fine, aside from the cut dribbling blood on his forehead. He looked down at Kurt still on the floor, but when he made to speak, Kurt just shook his head. He had to care for the soldiers first then they could fix his leg.

Jackson helped Kurt to his feet and braced him as he hobbled, wincing at every other step to check on Downy. They had picked him up with a severe chest wound. When Kurt looked down on him his eyes were glassy and empty, a new bullet hole piercing his temple.

He had Jackson cover Downy with a sheet before steering him to the third man. Steele was still stable, his leg wound only oozing now. It was a straight through shot, and like Winters not major bones or arteries had been hit. The final man, Ballard, had been hit in the head by shrapnel. He was sitting up, gawking at Kurt as he closed the small distance. "You okay?" Kurt asked.

"Better than you," Ballard blinked at him.

"Okay Jackson, help me back to Winters, he's the worst. Then Ballard can you help him take Downy outside, just in case." Kurt said trying to keep an even head even as a new jolt of pain shot through him.

Ballard stood up, new fear in his eyes, "In case of what?"

"In case they don't find us for a while."Kurt said evenly. He let Jackson explain to the men about the busted radio as he pulled back the dressing on Winters shoulder. "I have some morphine to help with the pain, do you want me to use it."Winters refused the drugs saying it couldn't hurt much worse. Inwardly he wanted to save what medicine they had for the Doc, his face was ashen, and he was beginning to sweat from the pain. His hands were steady though when he carefully began stitching the wound closed.

"I don't think medics usually kept needle and thread on them," he said watching as Kurt meticulously stitched first the muscles then the skin back together.

"They don't," Kurt agreed, "not usually, but I commandeered some so I could take care of cuts not severe enough to call the choppers in while we were out on patrol." Kurt began telling Winters about the time one of his men was slapped in the head by a wayward branch and they had to call in an evac helicopter for him when it wouldn't stop bleeding, much to everyone's embarrassment. It was a welcome distraction for both; Winters from the stitches and Kurt from his ever-increasing pain.

Once Winters was all stitched back together, Kurt had Steele moved closer, so he could work the same magic on him. Kurt was beginning to get light headed by the time he tied the last stitch. "I can wait Doc, my head isn't bleeding anymore and I think it is time we helped you." Ballard told him placing a firm yet friendly hand on his shoulder.

"Alright but it may take all of you to do this." Kurt said takings deep breath before telling them what to do. "I may pass out from the pain, if I do use the alcohol to clean out the cut, we should probably save the water if we can. Once the leg is set, and clean close the wound. There should be splints in the overhead rack, place one on each side, making sure you wrap it stiffly but not too tight, don't cut off the blood flow.

They lifted Kurt to sit between Winters' legs, and he wrapped his arms crushingly around Kurt's chest. Ballard grabbed Kurt's leg around his knee while Jackson and Steele each grabbed his foot. "On my count," Jackson said, making sure to make eye contact with each man. "One... two...three." On three Winters tightened his hold while the other three pulled until a sicken snap rent the air. Kurt's head swam as the ends of the bones ground against each other. His head slumped back against Winters shoulder. The others exchanged glances.

"Damn," Ballard laughed, "I half expected the bastard to sing the Star Spangled Banner while we set his leg. He is one tough little shit. By the looks of him you wouldn't expect him to last a day, but damn the man has balls."

Jackson shook his head as he reached for the bottle of alcohol and began irrigating the wound. He had seen many wounds in passing, he couldn't help it with his assignment, but this was the first he had seen so close and personal. He did everything Kurt had told him to do while the others helped Winters up so Kurt could have the stretcher to himself for a while. He had never taken such care in a task but after watching the meticulous way Kurt had cared for the others, he tried to emulate it.

Kurt woke several hours later; the sun was dipping below the trees. His leg ached and his head still swam, but all seemed to be well in the downed chopper. They ate a small meal of c-rations, Kurt nibbling what he could stomach of a rice ball. As the sun sank lower before disappearing, Kurt's hope of being discovered that day dived with it. He was reminded of the desperate state they were in when Ballard pulled out his gun and began to sit watch. It wasn't just not being discovered and of starving to death that they had to fear. It was being found by the wrong people that may be worse.