Authors Note: Just a raw, unedited copy of a fanfic from my brain. Need to get it out so I can then start putting up little snippets of conversation/HCs of Doc x Grace. Grace is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, stubborn OC who's not afraid to bite back. But has a slightly softer side with Doc. Our Marines may be a little OOC. I've never written Gen K fanfic before so... Feel free to read it as Doc x Reader if you want.
Grace: Same as the Doc; Navy Hospital Corpsman - except she seems to always spend more time on Land than at Sea. Was with another unit of Marines when they got captured and blown up.
Sticks with the Marines because they could use the extra medical help and a reliable translator. She knows her way around a rifle too so she's not at all useless. Lots of hurt-comfort potential, slow-burn between these two. They rely on deep bond of friendship before romance. They're basically the unofficial couple - except the two are too stupid to realise it.
Plans change all the time. Missions change all the time. It was their job to adapt to changes and execute accordingly. Of course, it came with various complaints, particularly in instances where their original missions were ripped right out from beneath them. Even the Lieutenant knew it was screwing his men over but these things were over his head, and like his men, he – too, had to adapt and execute accordingly.
“Change in plans.” Came the LT’s voice as he walked up to the platoon leaders that were huddled around the front of the Humvee. “That woman soldier that was captured? Our orders are to bust through the town and retrieve her.”
“Sir, not to question the order but that city is extremely hostile. Sending less than 70 men into there…” Brad didn’t need to finish his sentence to say what had been on his mind; that there’s now a high probability that a few men won’t make it out alive.
“We have our orders Brad.”
“Do we know where she is?”
“Our sources say that she’s holed up in an abandoned hospital.”
That presents a lot of complications in itself. They’d have to clear room by room, floor by floor. They’d be at a complete disadvantage because only a few will be going in, the rest of the platoon are to stay on guard outside.
They start shooting the enemy, there’s a chance they’ll hear the gunfire and shoot the woman soldier. ROE remains the same as before; only shoot if you come under threat.
Brad opened his mouth to, perhaps argue against the many arising complications from this order but Doc got in first, “What’s the sit-rep on her condition?” Doc wanting to prepare for what he’s about to walk into, what supplies he’d need to bring.
“No sit-rep was given regarding her condition other than she’s been raped. We do have some intel on her, her name is Grace Westen. She’s a corpsman and been acting as a translator for her unit before they got blown up and had the surviving members captured.”
“On the radio it says that a woman soldier was raped but had her bones broken first. They eventually killed her when she refused to give them information.” Pappy offered a little insight into the possibilities of what could happen.
Green eyes look downcast for a moment as the thought of one of their own soldiers was undergoing something inhumane, but the LT couldn’t linger on that piece of information too long. “It’s unrelated to our mission.”
So that’s what happened. They bust through the city, not as hostile as they first assumed it was going to be. There was still a lot of fighting going on but compared to the last town they assaulted through, this seemed a fair bit easier. It wasn’t until they reached the hospital that things became a little trickier. They don’t know what floor she was on or how many enemy soldiers there were.
They were sitting ducks basically. Shooting at windows could risk shooting Grace when they wanted to retrieve her alive.
Brad, LT, Rudy and Doc were the chosen ones that went in through the building. “Swift. Silent. Deadly. Gentleman.” Nate gently reminded them right before they held their rifles up and began quickly filing through the hospital door, rifles pointing in all directions.
It wasn’t until they reached the third floor that they stumbled upon enemy soldiers -who, unfortunately, were quick to fire at the Marines. So, in true American style, they returned fire. It was the opposite of what Nate had – theoretically, wanted to avoid. But, as such, it was unavoidable.
It wasn’t anything cinematic or spectacular, it was over within moments. No finding the big boss man with his rifle pointing at the woman’s head, offering an ultimatum.
Blood splattered the walls and the naked body of, whom Nate could only assume, was Grace. “Grace Westen?” the blonde nodded and tried to move, either to get out of her restraints her cover up her naked form.
Brad glanced over to see her, blue eyes instinctively giving her a silent once over (idle male curiosity?) but then stood with his back to her, standing on guard by the door. Same as Rudy.
There was a staticky noise as LT radioed in their current Sitrep. “Be advised, we have secured the victim.”
“I’m not a victim!” were the first words to come from Grace. Brad couldn’t help the half-smile at hearing her argue against a Lieutenant. He exchanged a side-glance with Rudy who tilted his head in acknowledgement. Seems like they got a feisty one on their hands.
Nate simply raised his brows but didn’t say anything as he turned from her, walking a few steps away. “We have secured the soldier.” Nate corrected himself. Had Ray been there, he would have definitely made a comment on how the LT’s already pussy-whipped.
“Break. Have Christeson bring up a change of clothes to the 3rdfloor.”
Unfortunately the LT knew to specify a person to come bring a change of clothes, or even just a t-shirt, because the men of the platoon are simply that; men.
While the soldiers stood around on guard, Doc was quick to work the restraints that had Grace tied to the bedpost. “Corpsman – right? Can you give me a medical update.” Doc said as he worked the ropes. “I’m fine.”
“You know they say that Doctors make the worst patients.”
“I’m not a patient. I’m not a victim. I’m fine.” Grace argued back. It was bad enough being a woman soldier amongst Marines, but to be a woman soldier who was stripped of her dignity and raped? That hurt worst than the actual act of it happening.
“Well, I’m the Doctor here, so I’ll decide whether you’re fine or not.” Doc murmured as he undid the last rope that was holding her right wrist to the bed post.
As soon as she was free, she wrapped her arms around the doc’s neck, pulling him into an embrace. A quiet, murmured “Thank you.” She hadn’t expected to do such a thing, and it was evident he certainly hadn’t expected the embrace. But his arms slowly found themselves wrapping around her frame, and hugging her. He offered no words of comfort, what could he say? She’s safe now? They’re in a fucking warzone.
Brad and Rudy stopped Christeson before he could walk into the room (though, there was no point since Grace was still out in the open for everyone to see – particularly through the broken window. All he could find was a spare T-shirt and a blanket for her lower half. “It’s all I could find for now.”
“It’ll do. Thanks.” LT said as he stood between Brad and Rudy to retrieve the clothes.
Christeson offered a small smile and nod before turning to leave.
LT turned
back and gave the clothes to Grace, who quickly put the shirt on and closed her eyes in relief. It was nice to feel covered again. “What happened to your uniform?” LT asked as Doc checked over her wrists where the ropes had rubbed her skin raw.
“They burnt it. To strip me of my dignity, I think. Psychological shit. They messed with the wrong woman. When I didn’t give them the reaction that they wanted…well…” LT nodded in understanding. “Fucking dirty motherfuckers.” Doc murmured.
Grace’s fingers had been gently resting on Doc’s palm as he looked her wrists, when she grave his hand a small squeeze, causing his eyes to glance up at her. “I’m honestly fine. I’ve been through worse and survived.” Her deep blue eyes bored into Doc’s blue ones. He held her gaze momentarily. She had a point but it didn’t stop him from worrying a little.
“If she’s fine, we’re Oscar mike.” LT said, wanting to get his men out of the town and back onto their original mission.
Swinging her legs off the bed, Grace quickly wrapped the blanket around her waist like a towel. Managing to methodically fold the top part down into a belt-like band to keep it as secured as possible around her waist. The shirt looked too big on her but it was better than nothing.
“We’ll see about getting you some clothes when we reach out next stopping point.” Nate said as he watched Doc stand by Grace’s side, ready to help her up should she need it. But being the stubborn blondie that she is, she stood up and waited orders.
Brad and Rudy lead the way, LT and Doc in the back. The lack of weapon made Grace feel more exposed now than she did with no clothes on. As soon as she walked outside, quite a few men were itching to get a good look at her but LT took her to his truck and allowed her to climb in first, using the canopy cover as a shield from perverted eyes.
As they travelled on, Nate tried to find out what their next step with Grace was.
For now, she’s to ride with them until they reach their next stop.
~ [A quick and lazy timeskip]
Grace was never without an escort. Particularly for the first few days. Not out of safety reasons for enemies and lack of a weapon provided for her, but safety from the men of her platoon. Granted, if anybody tried anything, they’d get kicked out of the military entirely.
They’d manage to get her some clothes, a set of small pants and a belt to hold them up since they were still a couple sizes too big on her. Until they can get supplies to them, she’ll have to make do.
Gunny sat in the front, eating out of an MRE when Doc came up to check on Grace, who was quietly sitting in the truck. “Hey.”
Blue eyes glance up and to her left as she watches the Doc climb in the back of the Humvee. “How’s the pain?”
She stretches out her bandaged wrists, inspecting them herself. “Manageable.” Before clasping her hands back together.
“May I?” Doc asks. Grace offers her hands to him as he gently takes it, inspecting her wrists himself. He carefully undoes the bandages and changes out the gauze.
Despite how angry he looks all the time, he’s surprisingly soft and gentle. Perhaps it’s just a corpsman thing. When you’re under attack, you’re a soldier. When you’re administering medicine, you’re a Doctor…
“I could have done this myself.” She stubbornly said but Doc gave her a look that clearly said ‘Doctors make the worst patients’ but he left it unspoken out of slight fear that she’d argue she wasn’t a patient or victim. He respected her enough not to label her as such.
“How long were you there?” Doc quietly asked.
“Days, I think. Felt like weeks.”
“How many times did they…?”
“… I lost count.”
Doc went quiet. He didn’t know what to say to that. His features seemed to have hardened a little as he redid her bandages.
“They intended to keep me there purely for that purpose. They weren’t aware I could speak Arabic, knew what they were saying.”
“Fuck, Grace.”
She hummed softly, glancing up at him as he glanced up at her. She wore a soft smile but he doesn’t return the smile. Just stares. Wondering how the hell she can still smile after all she’s been through.
“It’s okay.” She simply says. Really not much else she can say or do. What’s happened, happened. It is what it is and she knew this would be a possible outcome for her when she took on the deployment.
“It’s not.”
“…No, it’s not.” She softly agrees but what else can she say…
It’s since then that she only ever opened up to the Doc. Tiny little snippets but he doesn’t mind. Gunny and LT have noticed that the Doc always seems a little less pissed off when he’s with Grace. And the two seemed to find themselves navigating toward each other whenever the platoon has stopped for the evening with no specific orders.
