1941

There was a knock on the door and when Foyle looked up he found one of the new constables, Hill if he wasn't mistaken, standing nervously in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Sorry Sir but Miss Stewart asked me to fetch you."

Foyle frowned as he got to his feet, "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know Sir, you see Miss Stewart's in the kitchen and she won't let anyone else in. Just asked someone to fetch you Sir"

Foyle's frown deepened as he hurried down the corridor, the constable trailing in his wake. When they reached the small station kitchen he found the door closed and several other constables standing curiously in front of it.

They straightened as Foyle approached and he nodded curtly. "That will be all, thank you." They nodded obediently and filed away with a chorus of "Yes Sir" and a few curious glances over their shoulders.

Foyle took a deep breath and then tapped lightly on the door, "Sam?"

There was a pause and then to his relief the door opened just a sliver, "Are you the only one out there Sir?"

Foyle nodded, glancing over his shoulder quickly to make sure the hallway was still deserted, "Yes. Sam what's…"

"It's Milner Sir" Sam said, speaking over him in a carrying whisper; "He's…well he's not quite himself if you catch my meaning Sir."

"Err right" Foyle chewed on his cheek, "He's in there with you?"

"Yes Sir…I'd come into make tea and when I realized what was happening, well I thought it best to keep the others out Sir"

Foyle nodded, "Quite right." He frowned, chewing thoughtfully on his cheek for a minute, "You alright on your own for another few minutes?"

"Yes Sir, he's just sitting at the table, he hasn't moved at all, that's why I realized there was something wrong."

"Right, well just leave him be for now, I'll be back in a moment." And after hearing Sam's affirmative response he turned on his heel and strode back down the corridor.

When Foyle returned ten minutes later he had two blankets and Reid's assurance that he would keep the men away until he heard otherwise. He knocked lightly again, "Sam?"

The door opened slowly and she gave him a brief smile before stepping aside so he could come in. Foyle crossed the threshold and then stopped, silently surveying the scene as Sam closed the door behind him.

Milner was sitting at the table, one hand clenched on the tabletop, the other resting on his bad knee. His face was pale and he looked considerably older than he had this morning; there were deep lines creasing his forehead, his usually sharp eyes were staring unseeingly at the wall, his mouth twisted into a grimace.

As Foyle watched Milner flinched, in fear or pain it was impossible to tell, and then a great shudder ran through him. Foyle frowned worriedly and then turned to study Sam, who was standing uncharacteristically silent and still at his elbow.

She looked concerned, a slight furrow between her eyebrows, but to Foyle's relief she didn't seem distressed by the situation. He certainly wouldn't have blamed her if she were, it was unnerving to see someone you cared about like this; raw, vulnerable and re-living some of the worst moments of their life.

Sam was much stronger than most people thought though, her parents included. Her shoulders were squared back, her jaw firm but as her eyes flicked from Milner to him and back Foyle could see that they were warm with compassion.

"This is how he's been since I came in Sir, he hasn't even called out. I expected…that is to say, people rather imply that's what happens with shell…I mean this sort of thing don't they?"

"Mhmm" It certainly had been the case for him more than once and he expected for Milner as well but it wasn't as if shell shock came with a handbook. He glanced toward the stove and saw the kettle and teapot that Sam had clearly been using before she realized what was going on.

"You mind making us all some tea Sam?" She shook her head and crossed to the stove to get the kettle boiling again. Foyle watched her for a moment and then turned back to his sergeant.

Moving slowly Foyle placed one blanket over the back of an unused chair and then very carefully unfolded the other, making sure not to flick the cloth or make any sudden movements. Once he had it spread out he took a step forward, "Paul? Paul, I'm just going to put a blanket around your shoulders alright?"

He spoke in a low, gentle voice that he usually reserved for Andrew alone. There was no response but he hadn't expected one. He took another step towards Milner and then looked over his shoulder at Sam, "Stay by the stove Sam, even if something happens alright?"

Her eyes widened slightly but she nodded and then turned back to the kettle, and Foyle was struck once again by how insightful and thoughtful Sam was. Refocusing on his sergeant he continued to make his way towards him until he was standing at his shoulder. "Paul, I know you're cold so I've got a blanket for you alright?"

He waited for the count of twenty and then carefully draped the blanket around Milner's shoulders. Milner flinched violently but after a tense moment he simply grasped the blanket tightly, drawing it around him like a protective shell still staring unseeingly at the wall.

Foyle sighed softly and then looked back at Sam, who gestured to the teapot and then nodded inquiringly at the three cups she had out on the counter. Foyle nodded and she set about pouring tea, adding milk and sugar to one cup and leaving the other two black.

Foyle watched Milner's face crumple into a frown, and winced sympathetically; he remembered only too vividly what Milner had told him about Trondheim when he was still in hospital.

"Sir?"

Foyle turned at Sam's soft question and saw that she was holding out the sweetened cup of tea. He took it with a nod of thanks and carefully placed it in front of Milner, "Have some tea Paul, it will help."

Milner gave no indication that he'd heard him and Foyle quietly crossed back to Sam, accepting his own cup with a grateful smile. "Thank you Sam. You don't have to stay, it may take awhile before Milner's err feeling himself again."

Sam bit her lip, "I don't mind waiting Sir, truly, but I can go if you think that's best. I mean I know Milner might prefer I wasn't here…"

Foyle looked from her to Milner, he knew for himself he always wanted the fewest people possible to see him having a flashback. That said Sam had proven herself very adept at smoothing over awkward moments in conversations, no doubt a result of the enumerable perish teas and pastoral visits she would have attended in Lynminster.

He weighed the problem but before he could reply Milner gave a sharp cry that nearly caused Foyle to drop his cup. By the time he managed to put it safely down on the counter Sam was crouching beside Milner's chair. "It's alright Paul, you're safe now. You're home Paul. You're safe."

The tone of her voice reminded Foyle of how Rosalind sounded when she was comforting Andrew after a nightmare; he could still picture his wife gathering their little boy into her lap, stroking his hair and murmuring "Shh my darling boy you're safe; it was just a bad dream."

"Sir?"

Sam's voice pulled Foyle from his memories; he looked up and saw that Milner was trembling badly and quickly grabbed the second blanket gesturing for Sam to move back as he took her place beside Milner's chair. "Paul I've got another blanket for you" he spoke calmly as he arranged the blanket around Milner's shoulders.

"He was right in front of me and then…" Milner shuddered violently and Foyle laid a hand on his shoulder as Milner continued in the same broken whisper, his voice thick with shock and trauma, "I didn't even hear it, he just fell and I…"

Milner shuddered again and Foyle's hand slid over to cup the back of his neck suddenly transported back to the trenches of the first war and the countless times he had done this very thing; offered what meager comfort he could to a dry-eyed and deeply traumatized fellow solider. "It was a sniper, nothing you could have done…" Even the words were from a lifetime ago.

"They had us pinned, we knew there was no help coming…I was so sure I'd be next…"

Foyle swallowed hard and picked up the cup of tea he'd set in front of Milner earlier, holding it to his lips. "Tea best drink it while it's hot…"

Milner sipped it obediently and for several minutes that was the only sound in the room and then, when the cup was mostly empty, Milner shivered again and looked up at Foyle his brow furrowing, "Sir? What…? I mean where…?"

Foyle took a deep breath as he set the teacup down and took a half step back, "You're at the station Milner, in the kitchen, with Sam and I"

Milner nodded slowly, looking around him to where Sam was standing by the stove, and then scrubbing both hands over his face, "I…"

"Have nothing to be ashamed of" Foyle said firmly before Milner could try and apologize. Milner gave him a dubious look and Foyle sighed, lowering his voice slightly as he went on, "You've done nothing wrong Paul and Sam and I are the only ones who saw. Don't really think we'll hold this against you do you?"

Milner sighed, looking down at his still trembling hands, "No Sir it's just…"

"I know" His voice came out rough and low, as if he were once again chocking on mud and smoke.

Milner looked at him for a long moment and then nodded slowly, "Yes Sir …I forgot you would…"

Foyle's lips twitched, "Mhmm yeah"

"Sir?"

Foyle turned toward Sam, noticing that she was wearing her most cheerful smile, "Yes Sam?"

"Will you be needing to go anywhere before lunch Sir? Because I'd thought I might go around to the pub and get us all some sandwiches if you didn't."

Foyle glanced at the clock and saw that it was only eleven, "You miss breakfast this morning Sam?"

"Of course not Sir! But tea without biscuits doesn't really tide you over, especially when there's no milk or sugar."

Foyle shared an amused glance with Milner, silently blessing Sam when the younger man smiled back with a close approximation of his usual good humor. "Mhmm quite. Well I don't think I'll be going anywhere just yet and I suppose an early lunch couldn't hurt."

He paused and withdrew his wallet and handed her several bills, "Whatever they've got in the way of sandwiches and something for after if they have anything, given the biscuit shortage."

Sam nodded eagerly, "Yes Sir! You really ought to speak to Sgt. Rivers about the biscuits though, I'm sure it's bad for moral"

Milner made a noise that might have been a chuckle as he picked up his cup with both hands and Foyle and Sam exchanged a quick relieved glance, "R-right, well thank you Sam, Milner and I will be in my office so you can just bring everything there"

Sam nodded again, "Yes Sir, I'll be back in a jiffy"

Foyle waited until she'd hurried out of the room and then turned back to Milner, "Right then, given that it's nearly lunch I suppose we ought to figure out who we'll need to see this afternoon"

Milner nodded and, removing both blankets, got slowly to his feet, "Yes Sir, I'll just fetch my notes from my office." Foyle nodded and by the time Sam returned with lunch they were in the middle of comparing their suspects' alibis with nothing to indicate it had been anything but a usual morning.