A/N: Thanks for the sweet sweet reviews! All of the same author, but still, I love them with all my heart. :)

I've started a playlist for this story. So far, I've got for your sweet ears Losing you memory by Ryan Star and The Radiance by Linkin Park. Will grow with the chaps I hope. :)


8. One victim

"Dr Lennings, Miss Tate! We do need your help!"

Emie's head snapped at the Lieutenant Charlie as he ran into the medical tent, barely installed, while they were tidying their stuff.

They had settled in a small lumberjacks village, the previous inhabitants had been either enrolled or sent elsewhere, and now, everyone had a small boulder house to sleep in. Even Emie and Henry now had a kitchen and a sort of bathroom. That was a change after many months living outside.

She exchanged a glance with Henry, and took her satchel. She gestured Charlie to show them the way.

"What happened?" Henry was walking next to his pupil, his face tense. Barely arrived and someone already wounded? Bad omen.

"One of our Privates has tried to put a saddle on Captain Nicholls' horse, sir. It shot him right in the head."

Emie looked at Henry. She knew that there were very few chances that the Private would survive.

They arrived on site. The man had been transported to a table, not far from the soldiers' canteen. They gestured to the group of Privates gathered around the patient to back away while they were working.

One look at the man's head and they knew that one was going to be a tricky one. He had been shot on the side of his head. A small bump in his hair translated that his skull hadn't been broken, but that he had a ball of blood building between the bone and skin. They had to operate as soon as possible.

Emie also noticed that the ear had been touched. Without looking, she knew the ear-drum had been pierced. She had to take care of that too.

"Alright. We need two strong men to carry this one to our tent. He has to be heavily operated, and as soon as possible. But I'm afraid he won't be useful for a good month."

Charlie nodded and gestured two Privates to take care of the transport. "I will inform the Major. Thank you."

Henry shrugged. "You haven't asked me to come here if it wasn't for me to use my skills, eh?"


And they all walked back to the tent, Emie first as she grabbed her apron swiftly and washed her hands as properly as she could.

The two Privates asked if they could be of some use, Henry waved them to go outside, and he turned to Emie.

Without a word, she nodded and grabbed a razor to shave the man's head while Henry was preparing his hands and tools.

"Will you be okay? That could turn nasty. If we didn't see it right and his skull is indeed broken, we'd make his brain escape his head."

Emie repressed the nausea at the thought. She hated to see brains of the floor. "I'll be okay. Just, stop talking about that."

He smirked and approached her, leaned over her shoulder to check her work. "He doesn't need to be as good looking as if he came out of the barber, just do it quickly, Emie."

She shuddered at the contact, but quickened her work anyway.

As she was done with it, Henry gently pushed her away and took his scalpel. "I'll need to see. Prepare several cloths, it's going to be red as hell over here."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, and I thought I could keep this dress clean for another month."

He chuckled. "Women and their interests. I'll buy you another one."

She looked at him blankly before grabbing a roll of sterile tape and putting her hands above his.


"I knew it'd have been a miracle if he had gone through this." Henry wiped his hands harshly, as if he wanted to rip his skin off.

The dead body was still lying on the table, his head still spitting blood, his heart stopped forever.

"We couldn't have known he had a tumour. This is still-"

"Still what, Emie? Hard to operate? To spot before operating? Still what?"

She stared into his painful gaze. She put down her soiled tape, and approached the man, slowly wrapping her arms around his torso.

He didn't do anything for a short moment, and then he grabbed her as if she was the last thing that prevented him to turn mad.

She started cuddling him, caressing his back, her hands still pouring with both the patient and her blood. "Sshh, that's okay. I hate war too."

He straightened his head and gazed into her eyes.

Someone cleared his throat behind them.


"Major, I'm sorry to say that you've lost a man today."

Jaime barely looked at the dead man, taking off his white officer's gloves. "That's alright. He'll be replaced soon. At least you've tried your best."

Emie repressed a growl. How could he be so...indifferent?

"You wanted to tell us something, Major?"

The man planted his blue eyes into Emie's. "Yes, Miss Tate, indeed I was here to relay a message. You should prepare yourselves for a rush of patients during the following days. One of our man has been discovered with flu."

Henry sighed. "Great, another epidemic. Thanks for saying. Have you prepared a house for quarantine?"

He shook his head, obviously surprised. "I thought you'd take care of this in here."

Henry sneered. "Yeah, in a tent opened to winds! Of course that wouldn't spread the whole thing to the rest of the country!" He breathed deeply to calm himself down. "I need you to ask each and every of your man if they have already had flu before. Those who'd had it won't have it another time. Not that one anyway. Those you can't be contaminated will help us. I want them here as soon as possible."

"Will this be all?"

"No. Those who start feeling bad have to come to us immediately so we start treating them. Some of your men can well die of that shit, I hope you realise that!"

Jaime nodded. "I'll do my best to help you." He bowed to them and exited the tent.

Henry turned to Emie. "Had it or I have to lock you down?"

She smirked. She had been vaccinated for that ages before. "Had it. Twice." She lied.

He tilted his head. "Well, that explains some things, seeing has it leaves scars on the frontal cortex."

She stuck her tongue at him.

He chuckled and gathered needles and tape for feverish soldiers.


After two days, half of the company was ill. Almost all of the soldiers' houses had been quarantined, and there barely was a dozen of men who could help Henry and Emie.

On that day, Charlie came running towards her. "Miss Tate!"

She was treating a man who was already on the edge of death. He had been one of the first to be contaminated. She left him be after he drank all of his herb potion, supposed to drain the fever.

"What is it, Charlie?"

"It's the Captain, Miss! He's waken up, and he's boiling! I think he caught it too!"

She repressed a swear and ran towards James' barrack. Charlie stayed outside, as he hadn't had flu before but was miraculously immune to it to that point.

She entered James' house for the first time since they settled down. His table was full of drawings. She didn't take the time to look at them, as a moan came from the bedroom.

James had tried to wake up and had fallen on the wooden floor, his forehead sweating like hell.

She knelt next to him and helped him up back to his bed.

"James? Can you hear me?" He seemed so far away.

His blue eyes searched hers. "Emie. I'm so cold."

She put his blanket over him and put another she had with her on top of it, to be certain he'd be warm enough. She got back to the main room and took a sink of water, bringing it back to his bed.

She soaked the tape and placed it on his forehead. "Keep that on your head. I'm going to prepare you something that will get your temperature down."

He looked at her again. "Thank you, Emie. You should take care of our men first. Let me die."

She chuckled. "You're not going to die, Captain Nicholls. If you were, I'd kill you myself with my bare hands. Close your eyes and try to get some rest." She leaned in and kissed his wet forehead.

His sighed in content.


A few hours later, James' fever hadn't come down, but he was more lucid than before. He had even eaten a little before fainting. Emie had asked one immune Private to watch over him while she was taking care of her other patients.

The thing that was enraging her the most was that the Major Stewart, though immune to the virus, stayed locked in his barrack, not helping anyone.

She cursed him many times over that day.

"So, how's Pretty-eyes?"

Emie snapped her head towards Henry, who was covering a soldier's body with a blanket. Another dead. Great.

"He's gonna make it. Fortunately for him, he hasn't been in too much contact with the others to be constantly in presence of the virus."

Henry nodded. "And you left him alone? That's so sweet of you to remember there are others to attend to!"

She looked at him closely. His grey eyes were darker then usual.

She sighed.

She'd keep this conversation for another time.

She walked towards another diseased.


Guessed what happened or not? Well, if you haven't, you will in the next chapter.

Sorry, James' so cute, but he has a harsh competition. ^^ Henry might be rude and everything, but that's how a man is when he likes a woman who he knows will never like him for many reasons. ;)

Review! :D