Author's Note: Thank you so much for the response to this, it really means a lot! I apologise for the huge gap between the first chapter and this one! I do not speak French and so everything spoke in French came from Google Translate, so if what you read is wrong then please let me know the correct terminology and I will correct it! Hope you enjoy!
2.
"Ne meurent pas, se il vous plaît."
It was dark where he was, as if a huge thick blanket had been placed over his eyes preventing him from seeing where he was. He had been dragged, that much was for certain, and the gunshots were a distance away and muffled slightly. He attempted to move but his limbs and body felt heavy as if he was being weighed down by a large horse lying across him. He heard something clatter not far from him and he turned his head in the direction it had come from and attempted to open his eyes.
A thick haze prevented him from seeing clearly, making his vision blurry. He blinked a few times, wishing for the fog to disappear, and it complied with him until he was able to see a more solid figure a few feet away from him.
The person turned around and watched him for a moment. He closed his eyes and moved his head back to where it had been, and heard as shoes against wood came towards him. He felt someone pulling at his attire, undoing the buttons of his military tunic and opening it up to see the next layer of clothing. They quickly unbuttoned his under shirt, opening that up as well to expose his chest.
He heard a small gasp escape the person and he furrowed his brow at the sound. He felt soft hands as well as the roughness of a rag upon his chest, pushing down his wound.
"Ne meurent pas, se il vous plaît,"the voice said again, and he moved his head towards the sound. He opened his eyes then and saw her. Her brown hair had cascaded over her face, and the ends tickled his abdomen. She was pale, and her eyes were determined as she added pressure to his wound. Her brown eyes flicked towards him in shock, and she breathed out heavily as shock began to overwhelm her. He reached up to her hand and gently laid it over hers.
"What is your name, ma'am?" he said, his voice hoarse.
Her face was the epitome of confusion, and she furrowed her brow for a moment before licking her lips.
"C-Clementine," she whispered, her voice heavy with an accent.
He smiled and nodded, acknowledging her. "I'm Captain Nicholls."
A small smile etched across her face and she nodded. Her eyes flicked back to the rag in her hands that was changing to a dark crimson. He sensed that something was wrong from the change of expression on her face and he squeezed her hand.
"Je compte sur toi," he whispered, his face becoming pale. She smiled at him as tears filled her eyes.