"Uh, oh." Greg said as he entered my tent about an hour later. "You're doing a puzzle."
I turned to him, and shook my head as I turned back. "People do puzzles. It is a common thing." I placed a piece onto the border.
"Maybe for a normal person. But you, my friend, are not normal." He sat down next to me at the table I had in my tent. Because I was the only woman surgeon, I got my own tent. Apparently Hot Lips had a problem with surgeons and nurses together. Like I was really going to do something sketchy.
"When did you figure that out?" I put another piece, and Greg started to help.
"When normal people do puzzles, they do it for entertainment. When you do a puzzle, you do it to escape. So, what are you escaping from?" He stared at me, but I kept doing the barn with a brown horse.
I slightly shook my head. "Nothing."
"Cal, the only way that you're going get over the whole, 'escaping' thing, is for you to finish the puzzle. Now I will take this piece, and keep from you until you tell me what's wrong."
Damn him for stealing my piece. "Just a dream. Just a bad dream."
He squinted his eyes at me. "Why don't I believe you?"
"Because I'm not trustworthy. Actually, I am. You're the one that's not trustworthy." I took the piece from his hand, and began my puzzle again. "You changed my alarm this morning. Why?"
He shrugged and placed another piece. "You needed sleep."
I scoffed. "You know I don't believe in sleep."
"Which is why you need it."
"Because of you, I had the dream. And the dream is why I'm doing the puzzle; so this puzzle is all your fault."
He stared at me. After a while, I looked up at him. I had tired blue eyes that were surrounded by dark circles. "You don't look good."
"I know."
"Take some R and R. You really need the rest."
I shook my head. "No, I don't need R and R. What I need is a chemically induced coma." I stared at the puzzle again. "How long was I out, anyway?"
"Couple hours. Two, maybe three."
"Attention! Attention! All personnel! Ambulance in the compound! It looks like a big one!" I sighed after Pete had announced to my displeasure.
"Let's go." I got up and ran outside with Greg following closely.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"I need some O positive over here!" I called to anyone who would listen. Father Drake immediately brought over a pint and hooked it up to a needle and placed it into the kid I was working on. "He's got a lot of shrapnel in his stomach; more suction please." I said to the Colonel. I still couldn't see that well. Everything was a little fuzzy. I shook my head, and went back to work. The color contrast between shrapnel and blood helped more than it should have.
"Colonel! Can I have a little help here?" Guy asked from across the room.
"Excuse me, Captain." She said, as she rushed over to Guy's table.
"Anything I can do, Cal?" asked the Father as I shook my head again.
"Yeah, a little more suction please. Every thing's all mixed together." Alright, everything was fuzzy together.
Father Drake looked in before suction. "Cal, everything looks fine. The body's clear."
"Father," Things were starting to go dark on me. "Catch me." I blacked out, and fell backward. Thank God that he did catch me.
"Cal? Cal!" He started to gently hit my face, trying to wake me up.
"What's wrong?" Greg asked from the other half of the room.
"Cal's blacked out! I need a gurney over here!" Father called. Two of the medic's got one immediately, and put me on it. "Take her to Post OP!"
~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Blood everywhere...Open wrists and throat... "Don't peek, Art. Don't peek."
Once again, I awoke with a start. I was breathing slightly over the norm, but someone was holding me down.
"It's alright, Cal. Just relax." Greg was cooing as he stroked my hair. After I had calmed down a little, he let go of me, and grabbed a syringe from a rolling table that was next to him. I grunted when he put it up against the inside of my elbow.
"What're you doing?" I slurred.
"It's just a little sedative. To help you sleep."
I shook my head. "No. Don't leave me with the dream..." I trailed off.
He shushed me and grabbed my hand. "It's going to be okay. I'll be right here, alright. I'm not going to leave you." He gave my hand a squeeze before he let go long enough to inject the sedative and place the needle back down, then he grabbed my hand again. "It's only going to last a couple hours. Just enough for you to get some sleep." His voice became more and more distant as he went on. I closed my eyes, and went to sleep; Greg kept holding my hand, giving it a squeeze every now and then.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"CAPTAIN STACEY!" Colonel Houlihan shouted as she entered Post OP. And boy was she maaaaaaaaaaad.
"Yes, sir." He said as he was checking out a patient.
"Yes, ma'am." She corrected.
"I'm not a ma'am, sir."
She tensed for a second, before she said, "Captain, why is there a bottle of amobarbital missing from the supply tent?"
"Because I used it on Cal." He said it like everyone knew about it. Like it was something normal. The Colonel started to debate when Greg interrupted her. "Look, she needed the sleep, and she wasn't going to get it on her own. So I helped her." Margaret just stood there, waiting. "Margaret, how many hours of sleep do you get a night?"
She was a little startled. He never called her Margaret; so far, only Cal had. "About six."
"She gets about three, at the most. And that particular sedative is perfect for her insomnia." He knew he had convinced her not to punish him. He was just sprinkling this on to make her feel guilty.
"How many doses have you given her?" She had gotten all sensitive and caring. Margaret was so easy to take advantage of.
"This is the first one." Greg looked so sincere. He had the greatest poker face.
"Keep doing what you have to do." Margaret had taken the bait. She had left with glassy eyes.
Greg smiled when she had gone outside. She had been caught, cleaned and was ready for dinner.
