To be completely truthful, I never thought I would be were I am now. To define "where" I am in the middle of a war. The Vietnam War to be exact. I work here as one of the leading scientists in search of a way to fight off malaria that almost seemed to kill men just as much as the guns.

"Dr. Wayne?"

I turned around to face my colleague, Dr. Harvey Dent. He looked at me with a mask of exhaustion that I had come accustomed too over the weeks and months of working side – by – side together. At first he was a great optimist; always quick to smile and willing to help. We had become sort of like brothers, he and I. But the months of all work and no play have taken a toll on us all. Not to mention the never – ending war that took place at our front step.

"Yes Dent?" I responded, "Any luck?"

He sighed and shook his head, "Afraid not. Bobo's been getting worse."

I winced at the sound of that. Bobo is our little adopted orangutan we use to test our vaccines. He had become infected with the malaria virus when he was in the wild. Though we weren't sure until we tested him for it. We have been able to keep him alive, but barley. He has been getting worse for a while now.

Unfortunately we all have a soft spot for the ape. Bobo had become very friendly with us after a while and loved to play. Seeing him in pain was hard. There has been talk of putting him down lately.

I rubbed my eyes and got up from my seat, "Lead the way."

Harvey and I walked to the cage were Bobo sat. Indeed he did look worse.

"Has he eaten anything?"

Dent shook his head, "He hasn't wanted anything all day. Will hardly lift his head for us." He replied somberly.

I closed my eyes as the wave of grief fell over me.

Finally I told him, "If he does not get better soon, I want you to put him down."

Harvey looked shocked then hurt when he heard me, "But – not Bobo! He's such a good boy. He's helped us so much and is just a sweet little guy. I don't think… I could…." He gazed sadly at the beloved orangutan.

I patted his shoulder, "I know. But that's why we should put him out of his misery."

I turned my back on him and walked off. Once I arrived at my desk I didn't know what to do. I sat there for a while, just staring at nothing before I decided to organize my desk. I had uncovered the majority of the filth that lay scattered on my desk when I found an old photo. It wasn't just an old photo – it was the old photo.

This photo was faded and bent from years of age and moving around. It showed a picture of a dark haired women and a dark haired man with a mustache; that I usually compared to a comb. Beside them stood an older man with brown hair that was flecked with grey and was receding. He too had a mustache, though more like the ones you would see on a butler in an old movie. In the middle was a young boy no older then five. The little boys name was Bruce Wayne. And this was a picture of his family.

I always brought this picture around with me, no matter what. It was one of the few things I can remember of my mother and father. They are dead and have been for many years.

My father and mother were running a small bank when they died. In fact they died there. Were killed there. A robber came and ordered for them to give him all of their money. When they wouldn't give it to him they were shot dead. My dad was dead on the spot, my mother died soon after she was sent to the hospital. I came to see her just in time. Just before she gave her final breath she told her goodbyes and gave her love. Then she was gone.

Afterward I was sent to live with my godfather. Alfred Pennyworth. He had been good friends with my mom and dad and I knew him all my life. He is the closest thing I have to a father.

I don't know how long I was gazing at the weathered photograph when I felt an urgent tap on my shoulder.

"Wayne? Dr. Wayne?"

For the second time that day I turned around to face one of my colleagues.

Curt Conners face looked flushed, probably from running all the way from the medical facility to here.

"Dr. Conners! Whats wrong?" I asked.

"I'll explain on the way! C'mon theres no time!" He didn't wait for me to get up and was out the door.

I sprinted after him and caught up with him quickly.

"What is going on?" I asked again.

"A soldier was shot early this morning! When he didn't report to breakfast some others were sent after him to go find him." He gasped between sentences, "He was on sentry duty, we are pretty sure he was shot this morning though."

"What about the wound?"

"He was shot in the shoulder and the leg! Missed all the important stuff but he still lost a lot of blood and is running a high fever! We think the wounds might be infected!" He gasped again and clutched his chest before he continued, "All the other doctors are taking care of other patients and I need help! Or else this kid is going to die!"

I almost flinched when he said, "kid".

I nodded.

We ran like that all the way to the medical facility where the patients were held. Curt lead me to the soldier he was telling me about. He was set against the east wall beside a table.

He wasn't kidding when he said kid.

This boy couldn't have been older than twenty. He had a runners build but still scrawny. He had walnut brown hair that lay plastered against his forehead from sweat. His skin was a sickly mix of pale and green. A piece of his shirt was cut open to show a small hole in his right shoulder and the same with his pants but right above the knee. His breathing came in short, pained pants.

Curt rushed to the boy's side immediately, "Peter? Peter, can you hear me?"

The boy's blue eyes fluttered open.

Peter's breath shook when he tried to breath, "D… doctor?"

Curt's face relaxed when Peter finally responded, "Yes Peter. It's going to be okay. I brought a friend of mine and he's going to help patch you up."

Peter looked all around the room before his eyes settled on me. I bit the inside of my cheek when my brown eyes met his blue ones.

The young soldier nodded slightly, "The rooms…. moving…."

Curt bit his lip, "Yes, you lost a lot of blood. But we are going to have to take out the bullet before we put any blood in you though. Just… don't go to sleep, okay?"

Peter's eye's fluttered, "Yeah…"

Dr. Conners started taking out his tools while addressing to me.

"There is an exit wound on the shoulder but the one on his leg still has the bullet in it. We need to work fast, can you take the bullet out while I take care of his shoulder?"

I didn't respond but started preparing the kids leg.

I trained in the medical field after getting my PhD so when things were hectic at the medical facility I helped out with what I could. I always find it hard to sleep afterward when I do.

As I picked out the blunt piece of metal out of the young mans flesh, I found myself peaking at his face. Trying to find out if he was in any pain, or if he was feeling anything at all. He was biting onto the bullet Dr. Conner gave him with grim determination; his face was contorted into a mask of pain. His pale cheeks were burning red from the pain and exhaustion. I could see the lights reflecting off his tears that fell from his eyes.

The task at hand was risky one. Especially with moaning and screaming patients all around us. When a particularly loud shriek pierced the air I jerked while pulling the bullet out of his leg. Peter scream of agony was muffled by the piece of metal between his teeth.

"Sorry." I muttered as I continued my work.

Once we finished my forehead was sticky with sweat and Peter did not look any better. Conners ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked the young soldier.

Peter looked like he was on the verge of unconscious yet his eyes stayed open and his voice, although horse, was still in working condition.

"Can't… say I… feel any b… better…" He admitted.

"You did good." I told him.

His eyes fluttered to me, he smiled weakly.

"Thanks."

I nodded, "Its not a problem."

Curt stepped forward with a glass of water in his hand, "Peter, you're going to have to stay up a little while longer and drink some fluid."

Peter sighed but did not complain. I could see him swallow the water Curt dribbled down his throat.

Peter was on his second glass of water when a young man charged towards the three of us. This man had curly brown locks and was taller then Peter.

"Hey! Pete! Are you okay?" he called.

The soldier lifted his head and grinned slightly. I could see some of the color come back in his cheeks and the fact he could lift his head an inch off the pillow seemed like an accomplishment all on its own.

"Hey Harry."

This Harry arrived at the opposite side of Curt. I was at the foot of the bed. I didn't feel like leaving.

Curt looked at Harry and asked, "Do you know him?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, we're in the same team. Is he going to be okay?"

"H – Harry I'm going to be fine. You should get back before Corporal Jameson before he realizes you're gone." Peter reprimanded.

"Ah, that old man can't scare me Pete!"

Peter gave him a look of exasperation, "Oh? Really?"

Harry was silent for a moment before admitting, "Okay, yeah. He scares the living shit out of me."

Peter shook his head weakly. "I'll be out of here before you know it."

Harry sighed and nodded, "Yeah, okay. Dads not gonna be happy when he hears this…"

Peter chuckled, which turned into a hacking fit. I immediately got up and took the glass from Curt, which I then started dribbling down Peters throat until his coughing subsided.

"Are you alright now?"

Peter smiled, "Yeah thanks… uh…"

"Wayne. Bruce Wayne."

"Thank you Doctor Wayne."

I kept was getting up to refill the glass of water when Conners stopped me.

"I'll go refill it. I need to stretch my legs anyway."

I nodded and let him go. I rubbed my eyes as I half – listened to the soldiers banter back and forth at each other until I felt my self starting to drift off. I snapped my self awake just in time for the soldier, Harry, to leave.

I didn't realize Peter was watching me until I heard him ask, "Tired… huh?"

"You're one to talk."

Peter was starting to look worse again. And in deep need of sleep. But I wasn't entirely sure that was the best thing until Dr. Conners came back.

I leaned forward, "So, Peter. It sounds like you and Harry know each other from before the war."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, we've known each other since we were in kindergarten. He'd be the one to get glue all over the table and I would be the one to save his ass."

I felt a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. It was an odd sensation, since I didn't have a reason to smile much anymore. Not lately at least.

"Alright, I'm back." I head Curt say from behind me.

I sighed and reached for the glass Conners had in his hand. I may be tired, but I've been through worse. Conners on the other hand looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

"Go, get some rest. I'll watch him." I told him.

Curt shook his head, "No, Wayne. I can't ask you to do that. You already have work to do in the lab."

I waved the remark aside. "You look like you haven't had a good sleep in decades. Go, just let me know when he should sleep."

Curt ran a hand over his face and studied Peter, who was watching as intently as one in his condition could, until he finally nodded.

"Okay, okay. As soon as he gets something in his stomach he can sleep. There is a nurse coming in a sec with dinner for him, I can ask her to bring some for you too if you need it."

I shook my head. I wasn't particularly hungry at the moment.

He nodded, "Okay then. Peter?"

"Yes?"

"You head what I said, don't go to sleep until you have something in you're stomach. Then you can sleep. Just don't stay that way, okay?"

Peter smiled weakly, "Yeah, okay. Promise."

Conners grinned at the boy before leaving us alone with the other patients.

After asking Peter if he was thirsty I tipped the rim of the glass on his lip and let the clear liquid into his mouth. Not long after the nurse came with Peter's food and left.

Peter ate his food slowly, as if testing it out to see if he could hold it. I let him eat with his left hand with what he could, but I mostly hand – fed him. He got through most of it before refusing any more.

As his mind edged towards unconscious he turned to me and said, "Doctor Conners said something like you worked in a lab?"

I nodded, "Yes, I am working with some scientists here on a cure for malaria. I just help out here when I'm needed."

Peter nodded in awe, "Wow. Sounds like a lot of hard work. Don't you sleep?"

I nodded, but then added, "Its hard sometimes. Things start catching up with you after a while."

Peter gave me a grim nod, "I always wanted to be a scientist. A doctor maybe. Someone who can help people and make this world better place. Keep people from dying." He yawned, "Thank you Dr. Wayne. I don't think I would be here right now if it weren't for you. " he added sleepily.

His eyes closed and his breath evened. I waited until I knew he was asleep before replying, "You're welcome."