A/N: One shot from my newest Alternate Reality fic (chapter 8). I like Rostron's dream and I spun it into this so I could be ultra-dramatic and not depart from the storyline in the chapter.

Lara turned away from the taffrail on the Titanic, giving a little sigh. She was on call while the soldiers were being disembarked at New York City. The American and British doughboys were recovering with speed previously unseen by the surgeons and nurses. It was the promise of coming home and seeing their loved ones that really did the trick, as it had more benefit than any medical treatment the surgeons could have prescribed.

The young surgeon glanced over at the port side, seeing almost all of the soldiers were indeed lining up for transport off the pier. Simpson was down in the surgery, making out a list of supplies for the requisition.

In the midst of all their careful planning, a German spy had managed to stow away on the ship. Lowe had caught him when he tried to pass himself off as a steward and force the lock on Rostron's door while he was asleep. The second officer was extremely wary of the man, noticing that the spy's accent was very much off for a British citizen. It was obvious to him that the spy hadn't paid any attention faking accents. A few times Lowe had caught the man swearing in German so he tailed the fellow in the middle of the night and saw him forcing the lock on the captain's door.

The spy had put up a fight, only ending when Lowe pulled his gun and threatened the man. He had voluntarily given up and allowed himself to be put under arrest.

Now the spy was just put in line for disembarking, Murdoch and Rostron were with him to make sure he didn't pull any tricks at the last minute. Lara walked nearby but not too close, not wanting to provoke the man in any way.

Lightoller was on duty now as Lowe and Moody, having just gotten off of watch, had retired to their rooms for a nap before their next watch was called. Boxhall was standing watch along with Lightoller, crunching numbers and working out the chart course for the journey back to Southampton.

"What am I going to do after the troops go home?" Lara wondered aloud. "Suppose I could head down to the library and see if there's any new books yet."

"You won't be going anywhere, missy!" the spy broke out of Murdoch's clutch and raised up a hand in which glinted a small blade.
Before she had time to react, the spy had run against her and she felt a curious numbing pain in her abdomen. Murdoch and Rostron ran over and wrestled the spy off of her. Rostron handcuffed the man and bellowed for the Master-At-Arms to come and take charge of the miscreant.
"Lara!" she was standing against the gym wall with an expression of disbelief on her face. She held one hand to her abdomen and Murdoch gently moved it aside to see a fast-growing gash on her belly. Her hands were already red with blood as it started to stream faster. The officer saw her knees buckle and he quickly got to her in time before she could fall and hit her head.

"Mr. Murdoch!" Rostron called as he hurried over. "Is she all right?"

"She's hurt, sir." the captain watched as Murdoch picked her up, crimson starting to stream from her hand she kept clamped over her wound.
His eyes widened. "Get her to Simpson with all speed!"

"Yes sir!" Lara leaned her head on Murdoch's broad shoulder as he dashed down to the surgery.

"What the devil?!" Simpson exclaimed as Murdoch barged in with Lara. "What happened?"

"The spy broke free and stabbed her. Would you need me for anything?"

"Peel back her shirt while I see how bad it is." Murdoch rolled up his sleeves and donned the rubber gloves that Simpson handed him. The surgeon did likewise, then he rinsed off the blood, trying to get a better look of the injury.

"Damn. There's a real bleeder here and she needs surgery immediately! Sister!" the nurses knew the routine, taking Lara away while Simpson took off his gloves and trashed them, Murdoch copying his move.

"How bad is it?"

"Will, it's bad. I won't be able to know until I get in there. I will send word."

"Godspeed, John." Murdoch nodded briefly and left. He had to report to Rostron on Lara's injury and he had to be particularly careful on how he worded it. The captain was quite fond of her and Murdoch didn't want to raise any alarm or panic by saying the wrong thing or having the wrong intonation in his voice.

"Come on then, get her on the table!" Simpson scrubbed in, put on fresh gloves, cap, mask, and donned a biohazard gown as Lara was put on the table, sedated, and intubated. A nurse covered her hair, an anesthetist was on hand to monitor her vital signs. The scrub nurse prepared the instruments and turned on the big overhead light. She then draped Lara with the sterile drapes as another nurse inserted a catheter.
"OK, let's see what we have here..." he picked up an instrument and began to probe Lara's wound.

"Sir?" Murdoch knocked on the door of the captain's cabin.

"Enter, Mr. Murdoch," Rostron was sitting at his desk going over paperwork. "the spy will be turned in to the proper authorities if he isn't already there. I just filed a report on the whole incident with Lara and that should be enough to keep him in prison for the rest of this ruddy war. How is she?"

"I'm afraid she's in critical condition, sir," Murdoch couldn't find a way to better word Lara's condition, nor was he able to soften the meaning of the words any. "Simpson is operating on her right now to stop the bleeding."

"Oh Lord," Rostron put his head in his hands. Everyone on the ship knew about the special bond he and the young surgeon shared. He was protective of her, he seemed to know when she was depressed or distressed about something. Once in awhile he'd find her standing at the bow, needing some quiet time away from the stresses of shipboard surgery. "any idea of how long the surgery will take?"

"It could take anywhere from 1 to several hours, sir." he answered honestly.

Rostron looked up at his chief officer from his position at the desk. "Thank you, Mr. Murdoch. Please have word sent when she's out of surgery."

"I will do that, sir." dusk was falling and it was pointless for Murdoch to wish him a goodnight when it was obvious that he wasn't going to have one.

Needing some alone time, Rostron went to the chapel and spent an hour in prayer before turning in.

"Sir?" the chaplain, Luke Brown sat down next to him. "Can I help and guide you?"

"Our surgeon, sir, she was stabbed today," he found it a minor comfort to tell someone about his woe. "our surgeon John Simpson says she is in critical shape and doesn't know how bad it is."

"Yes, I heard about that today." the chaplain said simply. "God's will be done."

"Do you think she will survive, sir?"

"I think if she is meant to survive then she will." that did not satisfy Rostron at all. Pastor Brown was not noted for being comforting, chalking everything up to God's will. He was very one dimensional, also quite hypocritical as well. A true pastor cared about his congregation, but Brown was lacking in any concern about others at all. If it wasn't about himself, he would treat others very indifferently.

The captain glowered at the pastor, who wasn't noticing it at all. He gazed over at the stained glass window depicting Christ with several lambs, then stood up. Brown was too self-absorbed to notice the captain's departure.

Even if he was being attentive to his congregation, Brown would mostly preach about work ethics in a monotonous tone of work while everyone tried hard not to fall asleep. Rostron knew from experience that if Brown did try to comfort him, he would quote Bible passages in his reedy voice. It all sounded so fake to him and he'd received numerous complaints from staff and passengers alike.

Shutting the door behind him, Rostron went to his cabin for the night, getting into bed, knowing that sleep would not come easy.
At the same time, Lightoller had to be told of the situation. Lara was his closest friend, the one he turned to in his dark moments. Murdoch remembered when Lightoller had been in a funk, missing his family. Lightoller didn't want to hear anything that Murdoch had to say, so Murdoch had sent Lara in. From what she had told him later on, Lightoller had been blue because he had missed out on one of his children's birthdays. He had been feeling frustrated and sad, so Lara had calmed him down with her pacifying tone of voice, validated his feelings of regret, depression, and frustration, then told him to write a few heartfelt letters.

"My dear sweet God," Lightoller was absolutely shocked after Murdoch told him. "how is she? Does anyone know?"

"Simpson still is working on her in surgery. We will know soon." he tried to reassure his friend. "Stay positive, Charles."

Out on the bridge in the moonlight, the two officers said little else as Murdoch prepared to take up his shift. Lightoller was about to retire that night when Simpson himself appeared on the bridge.

"Sir?"

"How is she, John?"

The surgeon managed a weary smile. "She's still in critical condition, Charles. I have stabilized her and time will tell. She's very lucky as is. The knife glanced off of her lowest right hand rib, preventing a rupture in the stomach. I had to fix a small perforation-hole in her small bowel, though it was the bleeding which gave me the devil of a time. I finally tracked it down and cauterized it."

"I guess that's good."

"I'd take it over many other worse possibilities, Charles." Murdoch walked off the bridge. "Goodnight, gentlemen."

"Goodnight," the two answered him, Simpson wondering where he was going. Lightoller glanced at the surgeon and shook his head slightly. "Will's very private when something like this happens. It affects him deeply and he doesn't like anyone to see him when he gets emotional."
"Ah. Understood," Simpson yawned. "I've got the head sister looking after Lara, so I'm going to retire and get some much needed sleep. See you in the morning, Charles."

"Goodnight." the first officer answered as the surgeon walked off.

Because of the severity of her injury, Lara had to stay sedated for the next two days. It was a deep wound and Simpson feared if she was alert and had felt the pain, she might have moved around in such a manner that the stitches would burst and then she would be in dire straits indeed.

The surgeon was examining her chart when the heart monitor started to screech loudly, signaling an increase in her heart rate and blood pressure. Flinging back the covers, Simpson noticed a rapidly enlarging area of redness under Lara's skin near the surgical site.

"SISTER!" he bellowed. "Get the OR ready immediately!"

Four long hours of surgery followed.

When he was finally done, Simpson checked her blood levels, noticing that her white blood cell count was astronomically high. He had to announce to the officers what exactly was happening and what was going to happen.

It took a lot of fortitude for him to go on to the bridge and request all the officers to come and join him, especially because of what he knew about their young American friend. Simpson turned over in his mind how to break the news to them, but eventually he decided that he would just say it.

"Gentlemen, I've just come from performing a secondary emergency surgery on Lara," he began. "she had some internal hemorrhaging again and it had to be dealt with."

"How is she?"

"She's very ill, Mr. Moody. I know of no other way to say this, so I'll just say it simply. She's dying."

The silence was palpable in the bridge, except for the small amount of noise the vibrating ship engines made underneath the decks. All of the men simultaneously lost color in their faces, Moody had tears in his eyes but he forced them back, not wanting to look less like an officer. Lightoller appeared to have been struck, as his knees buckled for a moment. Lowe leaned his back against a pillar with his head drooping down as if in defeat. Boxhall put his head in his hands for a long moment and when he looked up again, there was a very faint hint of a tear track. Murdoch gripped the ship's wheel like he depended upon it to keep him upright.

Rostron did not look in the least bit changed in any way, except for all the color draining from his face. He stood straight and true, hands behind his back like he was waiting to be arrested. Simpson turned to him with inquiring eyes.

"When may we see her?"

"In about an hour or so, sir. I've taken her off the sedatives so you all may bid her a last goodbye." he answered, unbelieving of the words he had just spoken. Lara wasn't supposed to die, she was supposed to outlive all of them!

"I will see her then. Mr. Lightoller, you are relieved of your duty. You look ghastly, so take an hour or two and rest up." it was half an hour before his shift was up, but Lightoller needed time to let the shock sink in. Rostron was doing him a favor and hoping to distract himself by doing some work on the bridge as well to take his troubles away for a little while.

"Thank you, sir." he left without another word.

Once safely in his own quarters, Lightoller sank down on his bed and picked up a trinket Lara had given him for his birthday. It was a small brown teddy bear with a white merchant marine's hat on. She had it custom made for him, then surprised him with it one night on the ship when he felt a little depressed. The officer had been depressed because he was missing his own birthday with his family and Lara had sensed that completely.

Rage burned inside him and he wanted to vent by throwing things around and screaming in anger, but Lightoller feared Simpson would put him in a straitjacket. He settled for punching his pillow and bed until he was physically spent, all the while questioning God on why he had to take someone that Lightoller loved dearly. When he was all exhausted from his efforts, he mopped his face and curled up to sleep on the mussed up bed.

One hour later, Lara came groggily awake. She felt a deep throbbing pain in her belly, saw the sterile white of the recovery room quarters, and felt very lethargic. For some reason the room was spinning slightly, but she managed to focus in on Simpson standing at the foot of her bed.
"John?" she croaked. Subconsciously she noted that he looked exhausted and worried, but her mind couldn't figure out why. Lara noticed that she was hooked up to various monitors and her medical mind went to work. She could tell that her heartbeat was a little erratic but was normal after such an injury. Assorted IV bags were connected to her IV line, lactated Ringers, a small banana bag, saline infusions among others.

"Good to see you awake," a forced smile came onto his face. "you've been out for a long time now."

"How long?" she focused on the antibiotic being infused into her veins. "Lincomycin?"

"Two days." Boxhall entered the room and unbidden, offered Lara a drink. She gratefully accepted it as he enclosed his hand in hers.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes. Asshole stabbed me."

"Good. Mr. Boxhall, would you run and fetch the captain while she's awake?" the officer did so without delay, rushing off.

"Eager." Lara commented. "How bad was it?"

"Bad," Simpson could answer that without elaborating. "mercifully your ribcage blunted the blow."

"Why do you have me on Lincomycin? Have I got a bad infection?"

"It's precautionary." Simpson did not want to go into an explanation of her wounds or she'd know that her time was severely limited. With her lying weak and sick, already close to death, he knew if he did tell her everything, it would inherently speed up her demise.

To his surprise, Lara did not press him for details. There was a thin sheen of sweat around her hairline from the infection fever, making her look more ill. She didn't seem to notice it, or perhaps she had and didn't say anything about it.

Rostron appeared in a hurry with Boxhall behind him. He measured Lara up with his eyes, not liking how weak and sick she appeared to him, but strode over and took one of her hands. It was hot and clammy to the touch, he noticed. Rostron half hoped that what Simpson said was a lie and that she would be all right, but now there was no longer any doubt. Her tired and fever-bright eyes glanced up at him, her usual sparkle of humor was absent.

"Hello, Lara." it broke his heart to see her so badly off as he squeezed her hand, fearing he was about to break down. Simpson seemed to recognize the captain's feeling and offered him a clasp on the shoulder in comfort. Lara missed the gesture completely, momentarily distracted by a flaring pain in her belly.

"Hello, sir," the world dimmed from her view and she frowned. "is there a power fluctuation in here? It's kind of dark."

"Stay awake, Lara!" Rostron ordered vehemently as Simpson started in alarm, going to her side and checking the monitors hurriedly. Her vital signs seemed stable but he knew there was more to it than that. Lara was unable to heed his command as her eyelids drifted shut and she exhaled with a little sigh.

"It's going to be like that sir," the surgeon told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "snatches of conversation if you will. Her fever's taking all the strength she had left after her injury."

"How long does she have?"

"Not long, sir. At the rate her fever's going, maybe tomorrow night."

"She has less than 12 hours?"

"She might linger, but I hope not. I hate to see her suffering."

Rostron did not know how to answer without sounding selfish. He adored Lara and she adored him. To sail without her would be like taking a flashlight into a minefield at midnight. He would go on but her spark of life and boisterous nature would be forever gone. It would be a note missing from a familiar and comforting tune.

Before he could stop himself, his breath caught in his throat and he put his face in his hands for a moment, then cast a glance at Simpson. The surgeon wore a sympathetic expression as he checked the amount of antibiotic left in the bag.

The distraught captain went right up to the chapel where the self-absorbed pastor was gone, fortunately. Rostron sat down on a pew and gazed up at the stained glass window. At one point he found the mosaic comforting, as Christ was comforting and looking after his flock of sheep. It was symbolic of the Lord looking after his faithful congregation, though Rostron felt differently at the moment. He gazed into the blue eyes of the mosaic, rage building up inside him until he finally let loose.

"What has she done to offend you?" the captain spat out, glaring at the inanimate object. "Why do you want to take her away from us? She's a young woman with a bright future ahead of her! She's too young to die!"

No reply seemed to encourage the captain's behavior. Like Lightoller, he wanted to throw something around but in the end it wouldn't change anything. "O Lord, I am so weary..." he mumbled. "If I could take her place I would." Rostron seemed older than his years as he put his hands up to his face and let a few tears flow.

Lara had become his solace. She knew when he was troubled or frustrated because of the war and often times they got conflicting orders. When he got troubled or frustrated, Lara, enjoying the liberty of being a surgeon and a friend, would bring tea or some treat to his room, then goad him into telling her his problems. She genuinely cared and when he asked her why she persisted in hearing him talk about his problems, she had replied that she and Simpson were taking care of people's psyches as well as bodily injury or illness. Rostron was mystified until she explained to him that unresolved issues in the mind could manifest themselves as physical problems with no real underlying cause except a mental one.

"Remember when I was sick?" Lara inquired one day. When he admitted he did remember, she told him, "That was because I had unresolved issues on my mind and they manifested as a nameless disease. If I'd confided to someone, the disease would have been less."

It was something that he didn't put a lot of stock in until one night he sent for Lara on account of a bad headache. She had put him in his bed, then made him tell her everything that was going on in his mind. He felt better unburdening himself to her and managed to sleep off the headache.

Not that there was anyone to unburden himself to right now. The other officers were mired in their own grief.

Nobody ate any supper that night, preoccupied with their dying friend. Boxhall and Lowe took up vigil for a few hours at Lara's bedside. Lightoller and Murdoch joined them for a little while as well.

"Has she been awake at all?"

"She was awake a little while when the captain was here, Harold," Boxhall took one of her hands, examining her nails closely. Lara had always been super attentive about her fingernails, keeping them trimmed to a ladylike length and polished with some kind of natural potion that kept them shiny.

"That was about 4 hours ago." Murdoch checked his watch as Lightoller crossed his arms and sighed, leaning on the doorframe molding near the bed.

"It shouldn't have had to come to this!" Moody said loudly as he came in. "I should have been there! I should have been able to help her and protect her when she needed it the most!"

"Don't think like that, James." Boxhall interjected before Moody's tirade went off. "None of us could have known this would happen. You know what Lara's like when she thinks someone's hovering over her."

"That's right," Murdoch took up the lead. "she would have cursed us out and told us to stop."

"She's-"

"James," Lara blinked her eyes open slowly, clearing her throat. "stop."

"Did you hear all of that?" Lightoller dropped his arms and moved in closer.

"I did." she held out her free hand to Lightoller who accepted it like it was a lifeline. Murdoch put a cold compress on her brow in hopes that it would help her, gratified when she thanked him.

"My boys around me," Lara grinned faintly. "I want you all to get a good night's sleep tonight. Rostron can sit with me."

"How much did Simpson tell you?"

"He led me on to believe I was just normally sick and hurt, that I would recover." the officers glanced amongst each other, unsure of what to do.

"I know," startling all of them, they looked at her like she had grown two heads. "I know I'm dying."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said, Harold," she interrupted him. "I've treated enough deathbed patients without telling them that they're dying. They instinctively know like I do."

"Makes sense." Moody allowed.

"I don't want to leave you, any of you, particularly you, Charles, and Rostron. I love you all and that love will never die." she tried to comfort them, which brought a momentary wry smile to Lowe's face. The dying comforting the mourners!

"Lara, you should rest," Boxhall, ever the practical, pulled the blankets up a little more. "Rostron will be here very soon and it's best that we resume our duties."

"Remember what I said. Love will never die." she gave a faint smile and closed her eyes.

At 1:28 AM, Rostron was dozing beside Lara, his hand on hers, when her eyes opened up a little bit. She had roused a little bit when he had first stationed himself at her bedside four hours ago, opened up her eyes a little bit a few minutes later to see a noiseless tear fall from her friend's eye.

It was then that she vowed she would not die. Rostron and her friends needed her and she knew she was too valuable to lose. Lara was not done saving lives, helping the captain and her friends by listening to their problems or being the comic relief. The surgeon firmed up her resolve and sent a stern message to her mind to heal. She knew the power of the mind-body connection was a mysterious thing, but it had worked for her so far.

Her mind was going a mile a minute, thinking about her friends on board and how she admired them, each for different reasons.
Boxhall was a quiet one, very taciturn and spoke very quietly as well. He knew to raise his voice a bit when Lara was around, as she was a bit on the loud side. Boxhall often came to have a quiet chat with her when he was feeling reflective or philosophical. Lara often thought he was the most philosophical of the bunch. The navigator was exceptional in his duties, enjoyed his off time by reading classic literature and he was especially fond of Dickens.

Lowe entered her mind then. He had taken some getting used to as Lara was the exact opposite of any other woman he had met. She was loud, at times crude, but overall a good lady. Lara had given him time, didn't overwhelm him with her personality, but let him get to know her some. After awhile, he began to seek her out when he was off duty, swapping stories and helping her on the rounds she had to do as a doctor. When a patient needed someone to talk to, Lowe was usually the first one to volunteer. The second officer loved Mark Twain books, as they spoke to his sense of adventure, particularly Huckleberry Finn.

Moody was a bit of a wild card to her. Sometimes he was sullen and didn't want to talk to her, other times he was his bubbly self. Lara often called him her workout buddy as they loved to use the gym together. The officer often looked at Lara with a glint in his eye that suggested he liked her in a different way, but she didn't think of him that way at all. Both of them frequently camped out in the library, engaged in reading sessions. Moody favored Horatio Alger Jr along with Collier's magazine for some light reading material.

Murdoch and Lightoller kept Lara on her toes almost all of the time. Lightoller was a bit high strung, he could almost never sit still, while Murdoch was the opposite. Sometimes they had to goad him into action or even just getting up to take a swim in the pool with them. Since there was no electronic entertainment for Lara, she had found it a bit of a relief in some areas, so she had bought several puzzle books. Murdoch had taken a shine to them, so a few times a week they would gather together on the boat deck if it was sunny and warm to work on their puzzle books.

As for Lightoller himself, he teased Lara, joked with her, and in general admired her as she was friends with all of them, spending time with them individually. They were close as friends, he confided in her, each took the time to comfort the other if they needed it. Lara had given him a toy bear for his birthday and tried to make it special for him though they were all away from home.

The dying woman heaved a sigh, clutching at Rostron's hand as he slept. In the darkness, hearing the waves lapping at the ship, she was reminded of the scene in James Cameron's movie when Jack and Rose were freezing in the water. Rose promised to never let go, so Lara made that promise then. "I'll never let go, Arthur." she whispered, a tear streaking down her face.

It was 1:30 AM now. Lara glanced at the monitor, seeing all her numbers were nearing normal. Her fever had gone down a degree but that wasn't enough. She clenched her free hand in frustration, wondering what it was going to take for her to get well. Rostron stirred awake and saw Lara looking at him as the door nearby opened up and Lightoller came in. He grinned briefly at seeing Lara awake, but quickly saddened as he remembered she was on limited time. The officer stood at the other side of her bed, taking her free hand without a word. She gave him the same kind of smile as the three just looked at each other for a long moment.

Lara saw something out of the corner of her eye, her brows narrowing in concentration as she focused. A white light appeared at the foot of her bed, small at first and it grew bigger. Lara saw a feminine figure which reached out a hand to her forehead. The light silhouetted the figure so she couldn't see anything but a small blue light that kept getting brighter. The light obscured everything from everyone's vision, then there was blackness...

Rostron woke up with a start, not knowing why at all. He used to be that way when his daughter was a baby, he could hear her cry before the she even opened up her mouth, but Rostron and his wife were firmly convinced it was fact. Many times he had prevented his daughter from making noise when she needed to be fed as an infant.

Lara looked about the same to him, sleeping away in her bed. It was possible that she was looking more restful, and a glance to the monitor told him that her fever was rapidly going down. There was a light sheen of perspiration on her forehead, a clue that her fever was on the wane. As he watched, a luminous blue light emanated from Lara's mouth and nose like she was breathing out the light. Transfixed, Rostron saw it coalesce into a vaguely humanlike form.

The cloud gradually dimmed and faded out altogether, disappearing without a noise. The captain checked the monitor and found her fever had disappeared entirely. Her vital signs were strong and he knew subconsciously now that Lara would make it.

"God be praised," he muttered. "the Lord does work in mysterious ways." he latched onto one of Lara's hands, which was cool to the touch.
Lightoller roused from his chair, groaning and touching his forehead lightly like he had a headache. "Sir?" he asked in a low voice.

"Shhhh. Look at her." Rostron whispered, hiding a smile. The first officer leaned over his friend and put a hand on her forehead.

"It's almost too good to be true," he remarked with a big smile. "her fever's gone!"

"She's on the mend, Mr. Lightoller. I believe she'll be all right now." he rose stiffly from his chair.

"Yes sir. I'm on watch in a few minutes anyway." the officers left their now recovering friend.

The news was received very happily from the officers as they gathered on the bridge that morning for duty. To add to the jovial mood, Simpson came in and announced that Lara's wound and infection had mysteriously disappeared.

"I can't explain it, gentlemen," he tossed up his hands in frustration. "I was so certain she was not going to last the night, but she's still living and breathing as surely as I speak."

"Might I say that this is a miracle, sir?" Lightoller's eyes, which had been downcast and teary yesterday were bright and alert that day. "she's been healed!"

Moody cottoned on to that notion easily. He knew Lara subscribed to the belief of miracles and if he didn't believe in them before, he did now. The officer wished he was off duty now so that he could go and see her to see if she remembered her experience. It was unfortunate for him that he was just starting his shift but he could not shirk his duty. Murdoch, the senior officer on duty, recognized the young man's suddenly itchy feet.

As everyone not on duty left the bridge, Murdoch appraised Moody and approached him. "Mr. Moody, it's time for the rounds."

"Sir?"

"Yes, surely you know the rounds?" a slight sardonic edge crept into his voice and the junior officer recognized the unspoken hint.

"Yes sir."

"Be thorough now." he warned, nonverbally telling Moody he could visit Lara but to keep it short.

"Like always, sir. Nothing will go unnoted." he nodded at Murdoch as he left the bridge.

"Good man." Murdoch smiled and turned around.

When Moody turned the corner into the recovery room, he saw that Lightoller and Simpson were with Lara already, not that he was really surprised mind you. The officer was watching his friend get an examination by Simpson, who looked stymied.

"I could have sworn you weren't going to last the night," he was saying to her. "your fever was dangerously high and your wound was open and oozing pus. How on earth did you do it?"

"Couldn't tell ya," Lara replied. "it's just one of those things. Hi, James."

He walked up to her and gave her a peck on the cheek, making her blush like a little girl. "You really don't know?"

"Nope."

"Odd..." Lightoller mused. "I was with her and I don't remember anything at all."

Moody rolled his eyes as the bemused Lara and Lightoller looked at him curiously. "You wouldn't remember anything." he was matter-of-fact. "These cases always report when a person is ill and they suddenly get better, they always say they have no memory of it happening."

"What?"

"Remember, Lara? The cases we looked at when we had our little paranormal book reading session?"

Her eyes lit up. "Right! I had forgotten all about it. They were like angels in disguise coming down to heal the sick and they always had no memory about it after."

"Are you sure you have absolutely no memory?" Moody questioned. "I can hypnotize you and we can find out."

"No," she told him sternly. "I wasn't meant to know and that takes all the mystery out of it. I'm not going for that at all."

"Well my dear," Simpson took out her IV line. "I think you can go back to your cabin now, as you've been a pain in my arse for too long already."

"I have a lot to be thankful for." was all Lara said as they helped her up and she began the process of recovering her strength.
THE END