Lucy's head was so hot. In the darkness she felt a cool cloth placed on her forehead. She had visions of the wounded, dead and dying before her eyes. The lines of stretchers. The stank of blood and rotting flesh. The cold worked in their favor keeping insects away, though many of the illnesses were complicated by frostbite. The horrors Lucy now had seen. She closed her eyes but could not close her mind to them.

"Hey, there. Sh, sh, shhhh.." a woman's voice came to her.

She saw red hair through her slitted eyes. "Amy?" Emma chuckled.

"Guess again, 'sister.'"

Lucy tried to get up. Nearly knocking over the bowl of water beside her she wavered leaning on the edge of her bed, the room suddenly spinning around her. Squinting her eyes at Emma she saw the woman was pale. She looked leaner than when they had embarked on this madness. Her ginger freckles stood out against her pink scrubbed skin.

"Lay down!" Emma's tone was firm and she pushed gently on Lucy's shoulder with one hand. Lucy caved like a felled tree. The effort she had put in to raise her torso was more than she could maintain. "And quiet. I've kept you off Monsieur Alarie's radar, but you've got to help me out."

"What?"

Emma leaned down and spoke close to Lucy's ear. "They are threatened by the results we've been able to have on the soldiers. We're doing better than trained doctors to keep people alive. When you started looking ill, he looked pleased." Trying to follow, Lucy attempted to nod. Emma acknowledged her response.

"Preston, you've got to do your part. Fight this and get better. I'll hide you for as long as I can."

Lucy slipped into unconsciousness contemplating this turn of events. I owe you, Emma.

Wyatt and Rufus followed the Grande Armée on its travels. After a tussle with a sargeant who whipped on their fellow soldiers, they realized that they were going to be fodder like all the rest. No help to themselves or Lucy if they got killed. They watched for an opportunity. The right moment came when the camp followers were transported to follow the army. The glee of returning mates and bedmates made chaos rule. Wyatt and Rufus took advantage of the fact that they weren't actually part of any regiment. They took to the fields lining the roads that the Grand Armee traveled on. That night they slept in a barn close by to where the Main army encampment was, but were careful to avoid sentries and Russian townspeople alike.

"Hey, what about this whole scorched earth thing? Like why is there a barn here for us to sleep in?"

Wyatt shrugged. "Ask Lucy." He looked down with a pained expression on his face.

Rufus gave him a nudge. "Hey, we're gonna get her back. Look, we had given you for all but dead and you sauntered back looking like nothing had happened."

"Thanks a lot! That was just a couple days, this is much longer and who knows what they are making them do."

"Lucy's a strong woman. Way stronger than I would have guessed when I first met her. Who would have guessed those little wimpy arms that push pencils around and click power point remotes could take on Jesse James, and save Ulysses S. Grant."

Wyatt chuckled. "She is something, isn't she?"

"Plus," Rufus continued, "you just kissed her finally. We can't lose her now, huh?"

"Again." Wyatt said quietly.

"What? You two kissed before! You've been holding out, buddy!"

Lucy opened her eyes looking out into a limpid pool shaded by pine trees. Her head was cushioned by moss and pine needles. Her body felt light and she was warmer than she'd been in days. Sunlight glimmered in the depths of the pool. A blue sky glimpsed beyond an opening in the trees reflected in on the water's surface. A dark shape blocked the light. She looked up languidly and saw her team mate.

"Wyatt?" Lucy sat up, reaching her hands out to him across the pool, her heart beating faster with emotion, remembering his kiss. He stumbled forward with a pronounced limp. His French uniform was drenched with blood. His, she thought. Wyatt stepped into the pool, staggering. She grabbed his shoulders and guided him as he fell into her lap, splashing her.

"Lucy...we found it. We found the Mother Ship. We can save your sister now..." Holding his head, she began searching for his wounds. The cold of the water began to seep into her. Growing colder. She saw snowflakes fall on Wyatt's face as his eyes closed. She looked up and she was at the battlefield. Smoke rose, bugles sounded, the boom of guns surged. She cupped Wyatt's cheek, comforted by the warmth she felt there, but now watching blood pool on his chest.

"Lucy!" Rufus ran up to her. He knelt in the snow beside her, supporting himself with the butt of his gun. That Wyatt showed him how to use, she thought.

Rufus spoke wildly,"Lucy, let's get him to the doctors. We've got to save him!" He tried to take him from her arms.

"No." she said. Rufus ignored her and tugged harder. "No!" Lucy screamed. "No! No! They'll kill him!"

Rufus was gone and many rough hands parted Wyatt from her arms. She was thrown aside. Falling like a ragdoll onto a board and dirt floor like the ones she'd grown to know and dread in the camps. The rough board scraped her. The filthy mud striped her dress, stinking of bodily fluids and organic decay. Lucy felt something wet on her arm. Looking she saw blood dripping from a soldier onto her. Gripped with the need to know, she reached out to draw herself up to the edge of the bed. Before she could see his face, warm strong hand were on her shoulders.

"Rufus?" Lucy said, then she heard a woman's voice.

"Lucy, don't look. You can't look. I won't let you."

Emma was before her. Lucy struggled. "Let me to him. Wyatt!"

Emma held her fiercely. "No, Lucy. He's not here. Stop. Stop!"

Lucy kept struggling, "He found the Mother Ship! The tri-corder worked. But he's hurt..."

Emma threw water in her face, "Lucy!"

Lucy opened her eyes. Her body felt afire. Emma was holding her down. Someone else was holding her feet. Her clothes were drenched. The ropes of the cot dug into her back through the layers of cloth and straw.

"Yes. That's right. Lucy, you've got to listen to me. Hold on. The fever is peaking. Don't give up. But you must rest. Don't panic. You have to let me take care of you." Lucy relaxed and settled back onto the bed. Emma wiped Lucy's face, her expression severe. She directed someone out of Lucy's view to get more water. "Not that. The water we boiled." Lucy felt her grip on consciousness fray. She tried to lift her hand to Emma, to speak...

"Thank you."

Emma smiled. Lucy wondered why she had thought she was in the medical tents. Behind Emma's head she saw the blue sky again. Sunlight filtered through green leaves, illuminating them, lighting golden glints in Emma's auburn hair. Emma touched Lucy's cheek. "You drive me crazy, you know." And her lips were kissing Lucy's. Lucy felt her heart heave, she returned the kiss, putting her hands in Emma's hair. She breathed in her smell, that she'd come to know so well since that night they almost froze to death when they were first imprisoned. She felt Emma's hands on her shirt, unbuttoning her chemise, Lucy welcomed it, helping along...

"Stop it!" A hand batted at hers and Lucy woke to find herself gripping her own shirt with corpselike fingers. Emma glared at her and with ungentle force tore Lucy's hand from her own clothing. "You don't make anything easy, do you?" Lucy lay back and Emma continued stripping her. As Lucy woke more she felt the dampness of her clothes and understood what Emma was doing. She felt her own skin and wondered. It was clammy, but cooler than she remembered from any other time she'd awoken. Someone was sending a cooling breeze her way. She vaguely saw a flash of pale blue silk. The fan, she thought.

Emma said, "Your fever has broken. Finally. With any luck you'll be back up soon and we can start getting something done around here again." And for the barest moment, Lucy thought she saw a look of relief in Emma's eyes. She set aside the fan and began tucking the blankets around Lucy again and forcing a cup of water to her mouth.

"Drink. Rest. Feel better." said Emma.

Lucy said weakly, "Why are you helping me?"

Emma quirked a small smile at her. "I need your help to get through this. You may be an enemy, but you are one I know. You've got to survive."

Lucy tried to make sense of this, but she felt the tug of sleep pull at her. As she drifted off again she thought, I need you, too.