A/N: This was written for the Carson Beckett Challenges on GW and the Clubhouse. It will be about four chapters long and will be updated as soon as I am able. So stay tuned. :)
I live off of reviews, so please take a bit of time and let me know what you think.
Title taken from the song "Through the Fire and Flames" by Dragonforce
Special thanks to ladygris for beta-ing this chapter.

Through the Fire by GraceW

Chapter 1

Fuzzy lights, distant sounds, a soft hand patting a rag on his forehead. Hot pain radiated through his chest, neck and head, why was he hot? With that thought he slipped back into the merciful darkness.

Uncontrollable shivers woke him the next time. His head ached, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He groaned in pain, trying to move again, but a hand was on his shoulder and soon another blanket covered him. Soothing words calmed his struggles and drew him back to sleep.

Nightmares plagued him, flames dancing across his dreams and thoughts. Pain was his next conscious thought, throbbing pain. The pounding headache made him want to slip back into the world of the unconscious. But this time he clung to the light, the exertion almost wearing him out. When his breathing had calmed, he dared to open his eyes. The light hurt his vision and temporarily blinded him. Once the flashing colors had lessened, he glanced around the small room. Sparse furniture and only one window and door, but there was a table, a large cabinet and shelves of medical supplies. Sunlight peaked through thread-bare curtains.

He grunted as he tried to sit up, but the headache returned in even greater force. The door opened and a grandmotherly woman walked in holding a jar and a rag.

"Oh my!" She rushed over to his side, placing the objects on the nearby table. Her capable hands gently pushed him back to the bed and felt his forehead "You should not be getting up. You are still very warm!" Her accent was faint, very close to an American southern drawl.

The woman placed a wet rag on his head and brought a glass of cool water to his dry lips. He mumbled a thanks as he looked up at his caretaker. She was an older woman, perhaps in her mid 60s, with darker skin and a no-nonsense attitude. Her mess of grey hair had been pulled into a bun. Very light brown eyes met his and she brought a hand to her hip. "Can I help you?"

"Who...are ye?" He croaked, his voice still a bit rusty.

"Bless you poor confused child. You don't remember? Well of course you wouldn't, you haven't exactly been aware. My name is Nean. I've been caring for you."

"Wha-what happened? Where am I?"

"You don't remember? It's a bit that's a long story. But you should know that you had been burned." She sighed and continued "Then there was the fever. You are quite a handful, you know that? And funny thing, I don't even know your name." She smiled and cocked her head quizzically.

"Um…Carson."

"Well that's a nice name." She drawled with a smile.

A memory flashed across his mind. Blinding light. Intense heat. Sounds of screaming children. Fuzzy images. People running. Nothing was making sense to his fever rattled brain.

"You up to eating something?" Nean asked gently.

"Nah…Hmmm..ta sleepin'…Carson's eyelids felt like they weighed a ton and he drifted off again.

To be continued...

Thanks for reading!

~~Grace :)