Fic: Sparkling Stars XII: Broken (5/6)
Title: Sparkling Stars XII: Broken (5/6)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Molly Turner, Christy/Virgil, Andrew Martin, Lester Gruber, harrison 'Tinker' Bell, Willy Moss, Joseph 'Happy' Haines, Quinton McHale, Edward Garcia, Helen Sheffield
Fandom: McHale's Navy
Genres: Angst, AU, Drama, Historical, Hurt/Comfort
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: When Virgil falls ill, his high fever sends his mind back to the brothel during.one of his worst experiences there.
Chapter Summary: Virgil recovers but faces a new threat.
Date Of Completion: February 7, 2023
Date Of Posting: February 9, 2023
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 3,270
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Notes: The song Three Little Fishies (by Kay Kyser) was used in the episode Movies Are Your Best Diversion (1x5) and, yes, the crew saw the movie Penelope Of Blueberry Hill seven times! 😄
The entire series can be found here.
V
GUARDIAN ANGEL
Guardian Angel,
Sing your song.
Guardian Angel,
Right all wrongs.
Guardian Angel,
Wield your sword.
Guardian Angel,
Fight the hordes.
Protect,
Preserve,
Serve.
Sir Cedric Eddington-Smythe
"Angels Over London"
1868 C.E.
Don't mind me, boys," said Molly as Christy and Virgil froze in the act of kissing.
Christy reluctantly drew away. "Molly..."
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I already know about you two but won't spill the beans. Neither will Doc Martin."
Christy groaned. "Doc knows, too?"
"Yep," Molly said cheerfully. "But we have no intention of telling anyone."
"Thanks. We're in a pretty precarious position."
"Yeah, I know. You can be affectionate with each other as Master and slave but if people knew you were in love, the Navy might separate you at worst, ridicule and humiliation at best."
Even exhausted, Virgil looked worried. Christy squeezed his hand. "We'll be careful," he promised.
"What's this?" Molly pointed to Virgil's legs.
"I don't know. Where's the nurse? Why are Virgil's legs so deeply cut?"
"Sadistic. You're going to need healing cream." Molly checked the cabinets. "I'll have to get some." She left the room.
Christy looked at his exhausted lover. "Is something else wrong?"
Virgil gestured st his chest. "My nipples...they hurt bad."
Christy saw red marks on Virgil's nipples. "Bastard!" He touched his lover's face. He gently kissed each nipple. Virgil hissed in.pain but cupped Christy's head to show he wanted this to continue.
Christy moved down to Virgil's thighs and kissed the deep cuts. Virgil moaned but kept his hand on the blond head, absorbing love instead of hate.
Christy raised his head. "I'm sorry it hurts."
Virgil's eyes were closed. "I don't care. Your kisses make me feel loved. Someone hated me enough to do this, but your kisses are what I need."
Christy was deeply touched. He rubbed the skin above the angry red cut. The edges were jagged. The pain must be considerable, he thought.
Molly returned with the cream. "Before you start, better call Quint. Your fellow Masters will want to know what's going on with Virgil here."
"Yikes, you're right. Be right back, Virg."
Christy hurried out and Molly chuckled. "He's got his energy back." She observed her patient. "You feel pretty beat up "
Virgil nodded. "I'm sore everywhere. And so tired."
"Any fever would do that to you, but Zangarra's especially takes it out of you."
"My bones are pummeled."
"And this doesn't help." Molly touched his leg, careful not to touch his wounds. "Your Special Master will fix you right up."
"My what?"
"Oh, that's right, you don't know. Quint read the Navy's slave rules and found out he could appoint a Special Master." She chuckled. "He can't be kicked out from your side. Navy regs."
"So the Skipper appointed Christy my Special Master?"
"Yep. Good casting, I'd say." She fluffed his pillow. "Let's get some ice chips in you." Molly took some chips out of the small refrigerator located in a lower cabinet. She put them in a cup and picked up a plastic spoon from a drawer. "Here we go."
Since Virgil was so weak, Molly spooned the chips into his mouth. When Christy returned he asked, "Too soon for food?"
"Unless he's hungry. Virg?"
"Not hungry."
She patted his stomach. "Can't blame you. You've been put through the wringer."
"Yeah." Virgil sounded exhausted.
"I'm afraid this is gonna hurt," said Christy. "By the way, the guys say hi. They're thrilled you've passed the crisis."
"Can they come see me?"
"Tomorrow," said Molly. "You're too tired for visitors."
"Okay." He tensed as Christy warmed the cream in his hands.
"Ready?" Christy asked.
Virgil touched his chest. "Guess you'd better get started."
Christy gently applied the cream to one nipple and Virgil moaned softly.
"Nipples?" asked Molly.
"The creep who cut Virgil's thighs also abused his nipples. Clamps, probably."
Christy's touch was gentle but firm. He worked the other nipple and squeezed more cream out of the tube.
"Here we go," Christy said. The leg cuts were red and jagged and Virgil cried out as his friend began applying the cream. Virgil's hands were knotted tightly as Christy slowly rubbed the cuts.
"Here, lift his legs while I apply the cream on the other side," said Molly.
Christy lifted Virgil's legs and Molly swiftly spread the cream
"Hey, what's all this?" asked Dr. Andrew Martin as he opened the door. Molly explained and Martin frowned. "Let's get his legs up from the bed, otherwise he'll chafe."
Virgil's legs were spread wide and chained above the bed. He no longer needed wrist restraints so put his hands on his stomach, fingers tightly interlocked.
"How long does he have to be in this contraption?" Christy asked.
Doc Martin tested the chains hanging from the hooks in the ceiling. "A couple of hours should do it. Commander, make sure Virgil is elevated a few hours every day until his leg wounds heal. At least a few hours should help with the chafing against the sheets."
"Right, sir," said Molly.
When the doctor's exam was completed he pronounced Virgil 'one lucky sonofagun'.
"Yes, sir," Virgil said tiredly.
"Get some sleep. Commander, I want these changes in his medication."
"Yes, Doctor." Molly took the chart with the new instructions.
Martin patted Virgil's thigh. "Check you later "
"Hey, you do what the doc said and get some sleep." Christy leaned down and kissed Virgil's brow. "I'm going for a walk."
"Okay, Christy." Virgil welcomed sleep. He closed his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.
Christy left the room and walked at a fast pace. He hadn't wanted Virgil to see his anger.
I should have said something. I'm Virgil's Special Master, after all.
His anger increased as he once again craved a cigarette. He perceived it as weakness, and he had not been brought up to be weak. With six brothers and three sisters, it was survival of the fittest. Weakness left you behind.
My family would probably consider Virgil weak because he's broken, but he's stronger than all of us.
But his primary anger was about Virgil being trussed up and displayed in the name of medical treatment. He was certain that a normal patient would not be subjected to such 'treatments', and the ironic thing was that Dr. Andrew Martin truly cared about his slave patients, but sometimes had a blind spot.
Dissatisfied, Christy took a brisk walk around the grounds and looked up at the sound of a plane's engine. He saw the white star on the plane and relief washed over him as it turned out to be an American plane and not Japanese.
We're bound to undergo an attack soon. It's been too quiet lately.
He went back to the hospital, eager to play nurse again. Or at least angel!
& & & & & &
The evening passed pleasantly. While Virgil was too weak to do anything but lie in bed, he was just happy to be alive and aware of what was going on.
"Want the radio on?" Christy asked.
"Yes, please."
Christy clicked on the radio. Swing music was playing, lifting their spirits. Christy pulled up a chair and relaxed.
"The guys are coming to visit tomorrow, and you'll need all your strength for that."
Virgil smiled, setting Christy's heart to fluttering. How he had missed that smile!
"Where did you get a radio?"
"It was..."
"Don't tell me." Virgil lifted a shaky hand. "Lester."
"You got it."
"Hoo, boy, he can get anything anywhere."
Christy grinned. He kept up a steady patter so that Virgil could rest. The music was a nice background. He rubbed Virgil's thigh, glad his legs were down on the bed.
"Hey, how about I put some cream on your hip? It must be pretty sore."
"Come to mention it, it is." Virgil rubbed his left hip.
Christy got the cream and gently worked it into the smooth, rounded flesh.
"Mmm, that feels good."
"Something should feel good for you."
"That's nice."
"Maybe The Three Little Fishies will be played. That should be 'our' song."
Virgil chuckled. " 'Seafood, mama.' "
Christy grinned. "Those fishies were little smart-alecks who ran off to sea and got into trouble."
"You mean like us?"
"Ha, ha." Christy stretched his arms and crossed one leg over the other. "We're always in trouble."
"Pretty much." Virgil rested his interlocked hands on his stomach and looked up. "You know there aren't even tiles to count on the ceiling."
"I'll stock you up with plenty of magazines. I gotta go on patrol with the guys tomorrow."
"Oh, yeah, the war."
Christy snickered. "Yeah, that."
Virgil looked over at Christy. "It's been quiet lately."
"Yeah, the Japs have been busy elsewhere. Good thing, because our crack shot has been laid up."
Virgil smiled. "True "
"Oh, listen to Mr. Modesty here."
Virgil laughed. "Hey, I calls 'em as I sees 'em."
"Okay, ump." Christy grasped Virgil's chin. "Your eyes look fine to me."
Virgil's hazel eyes sparkled. Christy let go of Virgil's jaw and patted his cheek. Virgil sighed happily.
Christy yawned and closed his eyes as a Tommy Dorsey song began playing. He lost himself in the music and some time later he opened his eyes. Virgil was sound asleep.
Your face still shows the ravages of your illness. How do you still manage to look beautiful?
Christy shook his head, remembering the first time he had ever laid eyes on Virgil.
& & & & & &
"The Skipper says they're on their way from the base," said Gruber.
"Good," said Tinker. "I'm anxious to see our new crewman."
"New slave, you mean."
"Not necessarily. The Skip said he's gonna be both."
"That's a weird thing," Willy said.
"Tell me about it " Gruber lit a cigarette. "Balancing out on a high-wire."
Christy ambled over to the group. "It's gonna be a different experience, that's for sure."
"Any of you guys ever even seen a slave before? They keep them shut away in those brothels," Willy said as he sucked on a cherry lollipop.
"Never," Tinker said.
"Not me," answered Christy.
" 'Not me' what?" Happy asked as he hurried onto the dock.
"You ever seen a slave before, Hap?" Willy asked.
"Nope, though I do have a cousin who did use the brothels once in awhile. Where he got the money, who knows? Brothel slaves ain't cheap."
"Yeah, they're not, but we get 'em free now," said Gruber. He held out his pack of cigarettes and Tinker and Christy took one each.
Christy took a drag after lighting the cigarette. He was curious about the new crewman/slave. Would he be able to pull his weight during combat? Sex was great, but they needed someone they could trust to watch their backs.
"Hey, here comes the gig," Happy said.
Everyone watched in anticipation. They saw McHale and the new man, whose face was in shadow as he bent down to grab a line, ready to tie off the gig. McHale piloted the little boat and the new sailor tied it off, picking up his seabag and turning to face his new crewmates.
Christy's jaw dropped. Everyone stared. The new man held the seabag close to his chest as he nervously regarded the silent men.
This is the most beautiful man I've ever seen.
Christy was...what word was he thinking about...gobsmacked, that was it! This new man had a great body: broad-shouldered, well-muscled, and the face of an angel!
He quickly dropped his cigarette and ground it under his sneaker. This god wouldn't smoke a cigarette.
"Gentlemen," McHale said, "meet our newest crewmate, Gunner's Mate Virgil Edwards."
Tinker held out his hand. "Welcome aboard, Virgil."
Virgil put his seabag down, looking uncertain but accepting the handshake.
"I'm Harrison 'Tinker' Bell, Machinist's Mate."
The other guys introduced themselves and shook Virgil's hand, which was warm and firm. Christy was the last one and managed to mumble his name and welcome.
Virgil was staring at him. Christy felt a little rattled. He felt tongue-tied.
If he looks this gorgeous with his clothes on, what does he look like with them off?
"Virgil here is a crack shot. He'll give us a little demonstration later. Happy, show him where to stow his gear."
"Right, Skip This way, Virgil."
Virgil picked up his seabag and followed Happy to the Crew's Quarters.
"Wow," Tinker said.
"I know." McHale pushed back his cap. "When he came from below on the ship that brought the slaves to the base, my jaw dropped."
"Seems like the reaction of the day," said Tinker.
"How do we rate this the most beautiful slave in the South Pacific?" Gruber asked. "I mean, Binghamton gave us this one?"
"Probably didn't have a picture in the file on Virgil. I didn't." McHale shook his head. "We got lucky." He looked shrewdly at his men. "No jumping his bones today. Let him settle in first. Tonight after supper I'll stage a demonstration of our new slave's body, mainly because if I don't, you swabs will be trying to imagine him without his clothes on, completely distracting you from your duties."
"Well, that's something to.look forward to." Gruber said cheerfully.
Christy frowned. "Is it fair to jerk this guy into Slave Mode so quickly?"
"It'll be better for him in the long run."
Well, Christy was anxious to see that incredible body naked.
& & & & & &
We did get to see you in all your glory that night, didn't we?
Christy shut the radio off. He gently carded his fingers through Virgil's thick hair. He leaned down and kissed the sleeping man's forehead.
"Sleep well, baby," he whispered.
& & & & & &
The next morning Virgil was excited at the prospect of his crewmates visiting him. Molly came in and helped apply healing cream to Virgil's wounds. When finished, Molly reached for the chains and Virgil asked, "Molly, could we wait?"
Molly realized what he was asking. "Sure, sweetheart. We can hitch you up later."
Virgil smiled, and Christy figured Molly was a little gobsmacked herself.
"Let's sit you up," Molly suggested. She hit the button and the bed motored up to put the patient into a reclining position. Christy tucked the sheet and blanket up to Virgil's waist.
It was not long before the crew showed up, laughing and joking.
"You look great, Virg," said Happy.
"Thanks, Hap, but I'm sure I look washed out."
"Aww, you're the best-lookin' post-Zangarra Fever victim I ever seen."
Christy leaned against the metal headboard as the guys cheered Virgil up. They knew about the wounds but didn't bring the subject up. They wanted to keep things upbeat.
"We need our crack shot back," said Tinker.
"I can be happy about that," said Virgil with a smile.
Gruber patted his shoulder. "You'll be as sharp as ever."
Happy grinned. "I need my fellow Machinist's Mate back on the 73. You keep me sharp, buddy."
Virgil was still smiling. He ignored the beginnings of a headache, to happy to care right now. The guys were here for him! It reminded him of his days on the his high school football team. He felt dizzy with happiness.
& & & & & &
Dr. Garcia was studying a chart as he walked down the hall. He frowned as a burst of laughter spilled out from one of the rooms. He looked into the room via the half-open door. It was the slave's room, and it was packed with enlisted men and two officers.
Must be his crew. Garcia shook his head. How can normal men stand to be around him? He heard the jokes flying thick and fast. A hospital should be a quiet and dignified place, not a stinkin' brothel. Maybe I'll talk to Captain Binghamton.
Garcia pushed the door open and said, "What is this, a party?"
"Hi, Doc," said McHale. "Sorry if we got a little too rowdy."
"Yes, Commander, it is a little too noisy." Garcia smiled. Charming these men would excuse some of his actions. Excitement coursed through his veins as he wondered how much he could plausibly get away with in front of the slut's crewmates. "But enthusiasm can be a good thing. Well, young man, your chart indicates some leg wounds."
Garcia yanked the bedclothes down, exposing the livid wounds as Molly had removed the bandages just before the crew had showed up. The nurse frowned but said nothing. Yet.
"Nurse, temperature and blood pressure readings."
Molly took the readings, Garcia inspecting the leg wounds, 'accidentally' brushing his hand against their rawness. Virgil hissed in pain.
"Oh, sorry," said the doctor. He let just enough sympathy ooze into his voice to fool them all. "Hmm, this chart says your legs need to be elevated at least two hours a day. Let's get you set up."
"Readings, Doctor." Molly held out her hand for the chart.
"Yes, yes." Garcia took the chart distractedly. He dropped the chart on top of one of Virgil's legs, the heavy cold metal smacking one of his wounds. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry. So clumsy today! Must be that long shift I'm still on."
& & & & & &
Virgil felt heavy, unable to lift his arms or legs. His headache was full-blown now, and he felt hot. He was reclining in a hospital bed.
Dr. George Grant approached the bed. "Hey, honeybuns, you look a little banged up."
Virgil looked around. "I'm back in the brothel?"
"You're always in the brothel. The stink of it is always with you."
"Wh...What?"
Dr. Grant's face leered at him. "You heard me! You stink of cum! But what else do you expect from a whore?" His blue eyes glittered.
Virgil was confused. Like most of the brothel doctors, Dr. Grant could unwittingly humiliate slaves, but he was never maliciously cruel.
Grant reached out and savagely twisted a nipple. Virgil cried out.
"Stupid slut."
A new voice was heard. It was a woman's voice. "Don't worry, fellas, just a lapse. Zangarra's is tricky, right, Quint?"
"That's right, Molly."
"He'll be fine."
It's Molly and the Skip! Where are they?
Dr. Grant sat on the edge of the bed, his hand sliding down Virgil's bare chest and to his naked thighs. He pressed down on the muscled legs but Virgil hurt. Something cold was heavy on his leg.
"You'll be examined by me, though I might be a little clumsy." His eyes bored into Virgil's.
Those eyes. They're pale blue. Dr. Grant's are bright blue. This isn't Dr. Grant!
"C'mon, boys, let's give Virgil some rest," McHale said.
"Maybe they'll sing you a lullaby," the faux Grant said. He leaned over, whispering in Virgil's ear. "When I'm really alone with you, I'm going to carve you up like a Thanksgiving turkey."
The wild, strange look in the doctor's eyes terrified Virgil. "Angel," he moaned.
& & & & & &
Helen Sheffield appeared in the doorway of Virgil's room. "Dr. Garcia, you're needed in the ER."
"All right, Nurse." Garcia handed the chart to Molly. He patted Virgil's thigh, careful not to touch his wounds. I'll get you alone soon. I need entertainment on this godforsaken rock. "Okay, see you later."
As soon as he left, Christy and McHale moved to the hall. Christy was furious. "He's the one."
"I have to agree." McHale exchanged a look with Molly, who was caring for Virgil. The crew was dismayed over his relapse.
"Skip, I want this sonafabitch."
"So do I, Christy. And we'll get him."
"Christy, Virgil's calling for his Angel," Molly called.
"Angel? What's this?" asked Gruber. "I sense a story here."
"We'll plan," McHale assured Christy.
"Right." Christy went back into the room. "I'm not just a Special Master, you know, I've got wings."
Comments flew fast and furiously from the delighted crew.
"Yeah, we'll plan," McHale muttered.
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