Not long after daybreak, Laney's eyes peeked open as the sunrise began to shine gently into the tent. Sleepily she rolled onto her side and almost, for a moment, expected to see the poster-covered walls of her dorm room and hear the loud, incessant beeping of her alarm clock.

She sat up quickly as the comprehension of reality set upon her. It was the morning of the battle, and she was about to march into the middle of the War Between the States. She had spent a good part of the night in the arms of a Confederate soldier that she had only met three days ago and he lay not a foot away, also facing certain maiming or even death at the hands of his fellow countrymen. She could feel the tension growing in her shoulders and her head began to spin. Unnerved, she placed her head between her knees and tried to breathe.

What have I done?

After a second of silence, she raised her head and calmed her mind. Today's the day I save the Doctor, she repeated to herself. Today's the day I fight for something for the first time in my life.

With new determination in her heart, she pulled off her quilt and looked over to Nathaniel, who had also begun to stir. Silently, her jaw set in a firm line, she began to pull on her gray uniform. Every movement seemed to be as if swimming through a pool of thick oil, her mind only occupied with thoughts of war and death. Slowly, she went to pull on her issued boots only to find one of them missing.

Looking up, she saw Nathaniel standing before her, holding her missing boot.

"Missin' somethin', O'Connel?" he asked dryly, grinning as he dangled it in front of her face.

"Give it back, Nathaniel," she said listlessly, a forced smile on her face as she made a half-hearted grab for the shoe.

Nathaniel's face fell as he bent down next to her, placing her boot on the ground. "Hey," he said softly. "Yer a good shot and a good fighter and you ain't got nothin' to be afraid of. "

Laney rolled her eyes and made as if to pick it up, uttering quietly, "Yeah, nothing but bullets and cannons and bayonets and swords and…"

Nathaniel stopped her, took her outstretched hand into his own, and looked her straight in the eye. "Listen to me, Laney, and listen good. That's an order," he asserted smoothly. He swallowed hard and pulled her hand to his chest.

In the momentary silence, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart matching the call to battle drums that beat outside. She closed her eyes, fighting back the utter fear that rose in her throat and threatened to choke her.

In the quiet, he curled his fingers gently into her hair and brought her forehead to his. Almost inaudibly, he swore to her, "I promise to keep you safe as I can…"

"But you can't!" Laney interrupted, pulling away roughly. "We're going into war and you can't promise that."

"But I will, " he replied firmly, less to her and more to himself. He turned his back and began to dress, placing his worn gray cap onto his untidy curly hair. "Now c'mon. It's time to go. "

With a sigh, she pulled on her boot and gray cap, shouldered her canteen and ammunitions bag, and grabbed her Enfield rifle. With a quick pause for reassurance, she pushed open the tent flap and stepped into dim rays of the early morning sun.

BZZZZZZT.

"AGH!"

The Doctor awoke suddenly to the loud sound of a horsefly whizzing by his ear, and soon found himself stranded in the upper branches of a rather large oak tree.

"W-wo-woah!" he exhaled, looking down at the ground below. After a bit of a struggle, he managed to find his balance straddling the base of the branch. Looking around curiously, he straightened his bowtie and checked his pockets for his sonic screwdriver. Seeing that neither were missing and wondering how he got here in the first place, he shrugged and gave a slight stretch only to notice that the pain from his broken ribs were gone. Upon further inspection, the bruises were gone as well.

The Doctor, always slightly amazed by the functions of his own healing process, looked at his arms, his hands, his torso. Everywhere he had been tortured was smooth, unblemished skin, as if yesterday had never happened.

But it did happen, he remembered darkly. He fought the graphic images that poured forth into his mind: his orange-red blood dripping from his fingers, the sight of the Flesh bubbling inside the old courthouse and lastly…he gritted his teeth. He remembered the sight of Laney's ganger with her hair pulled back roughly, heard the sound of her screaming for the Doctor to save her, saw the vision of her blood spilling from the bullet-sized hole that grew in the middle of her tan-skinned face…

Calm yourself, mate, he jostled himself mentally. If you stick around around too long, that might just happen to the original girl as well!

With this new motivation, the Doctor scooted towards the trunk and hugged the tree with his body, trying to mentally calculate the best way to make his way down to the bottom. It's just like on Gallifrey! Just use the sides of your feet and the branches and find some footholds. It may have been about a thousand years, but it's just like riding a bike, eh? Climbing a tree…I wonder how I made it up here in the first place.

It was initially slow going, the Doctor fearfully making his way down the tree inch by inch, until finally…

CR-CRACK

"AGH!"

The Doctor thumped onto the grass below the tree, his two hearts beating wildly from the shock of the fall. Upon taking in his surroundings, he stood up quickly as to avoid embarrassment and straightened his bowtie for good measure.

"Hope no one saw that," he mumbled to himself.

Upon further observation, the Doctor realized where he was: the copse where he and Laney, not two days ago, had stumbled upon Nathaniel.

"Well isn't that a pinch of luck!" he exclaimed, giving the place a good once over with his sonic to check for other hidden soldiers. Seeing none, he tucked the sonic back into his pocket and set out over the hills in search of his TARDIS.

Now, he planned intently, if I can get to the TARDIS, I can materialize her inside of the town for a quick getaway. I can't exactly roam the town to look for her, and she's probably going to be involved in the battle, so running around screaming 'LANEY!' isn't exactly going to work.

BOOM. Rat-tat-tat-tat!

"The river!" the Doctor exclaimed, turning to face the source of the noises. What he saw took his breath away. Two seas of men faced each other, running, yelling, firing like a horde of ants milling in a maze of mortality. Cannons fired loudly as their shots reverberated through the hills, spewing dust and fire into the air.

BOOM.

The sound of a round of rifles followed like a harsh staccato, mixed with the sharp cries of the soldiers who were hit. The orchestra of war, the instruments of war were creating their own music, a song of death and destruction that rang throughout the whole of history.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

"LANEY!" he cried out in spite of himself, watching the carnage. He froze in memory, swept back almost immediately to his own days as a soldier. The song of war, it rang in his ears and through the three hundred years that he had tried to deny for so long. He knew this melody of devastation, he knew that dance of death, and soon, Laney would too.

He stood once more and began to sprint through the hills. She's down there, he thought worriedly. She's in the singular most bloody battle in the most bloody war in her country's history, and where am I? Sleeping in an oak tree.

When he reached the door of the TARDIS, his shaking hands could barely insert the key and turn the lock. He slammed the door behind him, shutting out the sounds of the outside world. Winded and relieved, he sat down wearily on the steps of the console. Running his fingers through his hair, he caught sight of something that brought him back to the present: a worn gray sweatshirt draped over the railing.

With a jerk, he stood quickly and began to adjust the TARDIS for departure, mumbling all the while.

"Can't join the battle, can't show my face, what can I do, what can I do…"

Suddenly he clapped and slapped himself in the forehead with his palm. "Oh dumb Doctor, idiot Doctor! Take a leaf out of Miss Laney's book, make yourself unrecognizable!"

He slid down the railing and through the corridor, making his way to the wardrobe. "It's 1860s, mid Civil War, they're looking for a tall Englishman…" He pulled out a fluffy maid's uniform, making a face. "Definitely not! There's quite enough of that for the day…" He continued to search through the wardrobe, tossing the offensive pieces of clothing onto the floor. "Not that, too strange…too small…too ceremonial, too…too perfect!"

He pulled out a black robe, smiling widely. "Who goes everywhere and gets in anywhere without question? Priests!"

He changed quickly, dropping his bloody, battered clothing as he donned the robe.

I'll hide the TARDIS behind the church and search for Laney under the guise of praying for the dead. She should have slipped away by that point. I'll meet her there, evacuate the courthouse saying that it's not safe, and destroy the Flesh facility.

He ran to the console, tweaking the controls before finally throwing the switch, holding tightly to the railing as he smiled grimly, bracing himself for the sight of the bloodiest war in United States history.

"Geronimo."

The April sun beat down onto the Rankin Greys of the 6th Mississippi Infantry. The sky was a clear blue and would be a beautiful day, if not for the manner of business at hand. Sweat poured from Laney's face as she itched underneath the gray wool cap that rubbed on her forehead. The flash of swords and bayonets blinded the men's eyes. The breeze blew across the bare field in between the armies, its momentary emptiness accentuating the veritable blue ocean of Union soldiers that were as far as the eye could see.

Her hands shook as she tried to control her fear, but all she could see were the well-fed, well-clothed soldiers of the Union Army facing her across the way, their numerous weapons gleaming. Their cavalry were on real horses instead of mules, and all of their soldiers were wearing shoes. She looked around unsteadily at the men in her company: some were missing shoes, some were missing weapons, and some looked like that they had not eaten in a week.

Nathaniel stood at the back of her fireteam with Sergeant Lowry. The giant of a man was barking orders, preparing the cannons before joining them at the front lines. Lowry, upon signal from his superiors, nodded curtly at Nathaniel. "Corporal Jayroe, ready your team and wait for my orders to advance."

Nathaniel saluted smartly and filed to the lines with his team. He could feel his heart beating in his chest as if it were about to burst, but now was not the time for fear. Keep the goal in mind, he reminded himself. It will all be over soon.

He took a deep breath and upon signal from Lowry, barked, "READY ARMS!"

Laney fumbled in her ammunitions bag for a round, her hands shaking. Her fingers went through the motions of loading the gun, but it was almost as if her mind wasn't there. She blocked out the sounds around her, concentrating only on the actions of her hands.

Don't think, she prompted herself. Don't ask questions. If someone tries to hurt you, hurt them back. Stay alive. Get to the Doctor. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe.

"AIM!"

With an audible gulp, she raised the rifle to her shoulder, aiming at the endless wall of blue in front of her. Ready, aim…

"FIRE!"

And like that, the battle began. Her musket kicked painfully into her shoulder with the force of the blast and the bullet flew into the lines of Union soldiers. Laney could only watch in horror as the two men beside her dropped to the ground, blood spilling like fine wine and pooling around her boots. She dropped to her hands as bullets whizzed overhead, finding homes deep within the bodies of their victims. She tried to empty her mind and steady her hands as she loaded her gun once more. Her eyes began to burn and tear as the smoke around her grew ever thicker and her lungs rasped for air in the dust, causing her to cough uncontrollably.

"READY!" Nathaniel screamed over the chaos.

Another one of her companions fell to her right, a burst of blood erupting from his mouth like a river. She held her lungs long enough to load her rifle once more, fighting back the tears from smoke and

"AIM!"

She watched a row of Union soldiers begin to load their weapons, very few of them fallen. She pulled her rifle to her shoulder again, trying to recoup her reason.

"FIRE!"

The ensuing smoke obscured her vision as she heard the volley hit their marks in the lines of the Union soldiers. For the moment, she was thankful that she could not see where her bullet had gone.

There were cries in the distance from the Union troops as their armies grew restless. Their men began to shout mighty shouts that chilled her to the spine until finally, she heard a line of officers issuing the dreaded order.

"ADVANCE!"

It was almost like running through a dreamland that she had no way to understand. She forced each footfall as they charged towards the boys in blue, holding her bayonet in front of her like a mighty spear. She looked back and in her twisting started to stumble and lose footing, but before she could fall she saw a flash of a familiar face.

Nathaniel grabbed her roughly by the upper arm and pushed her forward before falling in line alongside her. "Stay by me!" he commanded, drawing his revolver out of its holster. In the rush, he pulled out a long, wide knife with a brass handle and quickly passed it off to her, issuing quiet instructions as they sprinted towards the enemy. "Bowie knife! Use your bayonet for long distance, knife for short!"

Laney went to shout, but the time was already near.

The two armies met with a mighty clash of metal: bayonet against sword, handguns firing into the midst of the crowd. Laney fought the urge to scream and instead acted on pure instinct, ducking the oncoming steel and slashing out with her bayonet. Laney pushed out and tried to regain her ground when she found herself face to face with a young blonde boy, who could have been no older than fifteen.

The boy's round, alarmed eyes betrayed him as a fellow greenhorn, but his face was all business as he pushed Laney backwards with his rifle and managed to knock her to the ground. She tried to parry with her rifle, but his fervent stabbing was leaving her with very little room and not a lot of time. Frightened and high on adrenaline, Laney pushed out with her feet and managed to topple his balance, dropping him to the rough ground. He seemed determined to finish the job, still stabbing and slashing at her chest with his bayonet, until Laney knocked the weapon out of his hands with her rifle, leaving the boy defenseless at her feet with her blade at his throat.

Even though it was only a moment, it seemed a lifetime as they stared each other down. Laney shook with fright and adrenaline as she held a man's life in her hands for the first time in her young life. She froze, unable to make the kill. She backed away, holding her rifle in front of her to show the boy that she meant to give him mercy. When she turned to look for Nathaniel in the fray, the boy seized the opportunity and reached for his rifle, aiming the barrel straight at her heart.

BANG

Laney turned back only to face Nathaniel, his revolver smoking slightly as the boy lay still on the ground, a puddle of crimson blood forming in the grass around his skull. He quickly grabbed the bayonet off of the rifle and tucked it into his haversack, shaking his head at Laney as he pulled her into a back-to-back defense position, reminding her harshly, "No mercy. They don't have none for you."

Laney, still in shock, nodded as more soldiers in blue began heading their direction. No mercy, she repeated to herself as she steadied her knife hand. No mercy.

Frenziedly and mindlessly, she cried out a throaty roar as another soldier came at her sword point first. She disarmed him quickly, giving him a swift slash at the wrist before lashing out with her bayonet, cutting the man deep into his stomach. Nathaniel, out of bullets in his revolver, flipped the weapon quickly in his hand and began using the handle as a blunt weapon, armed in the other hand with the spare bayonet blade. They became a desperate team, pushing forward through the ranks in an attempt to rejoin their company.

Laney quickly grew tired as she pushed back against the onslaught, punching, kicking and slashing where she could. It seemed as if the bodies in blue were never ending as they pressed into the Confederate attack, as they pushed the men in grey back to their hills. A saber slashed at her arm, causing her to cry out as it left a deep cut through her wool jacket, staining the sleeve red. Sweat dripped into her eyes and she tried to blink them away, her hands otherwise occupied.

Nathaniel grew restless, his eyes constantly looking to the hills. "Damn the artillery!" he swore, looking towards the incessant stream of blue. "Why ain't they usin' cannons to cut off reinforcements?"

Laney was breathing hard as she dispatched the man with the saber, grinding her boot heel into his wrist to disarm him. She kicked the man sharply in the chin, forcing his head at an odd angle before he went still. "What do you mean? Where the hell.."

Before she could even finish her sentence, Hell began to make its appearance.

BOOM.

Something large and explosive landed about twenty yards in front of her, sending bodies and limbs of both armies scattered across the field.

Nathaniel's face went as white as snow and for a moment, Laney thought he might be sick. "They're firin' on their own," he choked out. "Don't they know we're down here?"

As they stood still for one moment too long, their mouths slack at the sight of the incoming artillery, Laney suddenly felt a tremendous amount of pressure, like being hit with a hammer, in her right shoulder and then the burning of fire. The fire traveled through her torso, spilling forth pain like she had never experienced before. Shocked, she looked down slowly, only to see the blood covered tip of a bayonet protruding from the right side of her chest.

The color drained from her face as she dropped to her knees, crimson drops dribbling slowly down her front. Her mouth hung open and she felt like she could not breathe without fire searing her once more. She fell to the ground and her face buried in the stained grass, unable to move. DOCTOR, she cried mentally, HELP ME! DOCTOR!

The bayonet withdrew harshly as she screamed out in agony and panic, attracting Nathaniel's attention away from the hills and to his partner. "LANEY!" he cried out, his heart pounding.

Upon seeing a Union soldier looming over Laney's prone, bleeding form on the ground, bayonet at the ready for a killing strike, Nathaniel charged forward and clouted the weapon from the man's hands. Blindly, he kicked out at her attacker and slung him to the ground, pinning him to the ground with his knees. With a swift uppercut to the jaw, the man was out cold. Nathaniel continued beating him, blinded by rage and the weight of his own failure as he tainted his hands with a dark red, mixing the man's blood with his own as his knuckles split and ruptured.

The only call that caught his attention, the only sound that dissolved his fog, was the sound of the drums beating in the distance as the Confederates sprinted back into the hills, incoming Confederate and Union artillery thundering around them. He heard the orders of retreat ring out in his ears as he stood up, breathing heavily.

Laney, he panicked. He ran to her side to discover her bleeding from the mouth and struggling to breathe. "N-Nathaniel, I'm s-s-sorry, I was-wasn't…I wasn't paying attention…" she stuttered, her chest rising and falling irregularly as she painfully forced out her voice. "Th-the D-Doctor…I've g-got to save the," she persisted, gasping for breath, "I've got to s-save the Doctor."

Nathaniel knelt by her as he shook his head and attempted to fake a grin, ripping off a piece of cloth from his ragged sleeves. "Oh, yer gonna be jus' fine, jus' fine. Little pinprick like that?" he said with a forced laugh, speaking halfway to himself. "Ain't nothin', yer gonna be jus' fine." He pressed the cloth to the hole in her chest, laying her hand on the temporary bandage. He slid his arms under her back and legs before looking her in the eyes, nodding curtly. "I'm gonna have to lift you now, and I know it's gonna hurt real bad but you jus' gotta trust me, okay? Now put pressure on that."

He clenched his jaw, feeling her tense as he lifted her roughly, bundling her in his arms like a small child. She had never seemed so small, he noted, holding her close as he began to sprint towards the hills. Artillery fell around them like a hellish rain and bullets flew by as the Confederates ran for their bunkers. The Union soldiers cheered to see them retreat and pushed onward, struggling through the fire to reach the city.

Nathaniel ran faster than he felt physically possible, pushing his lungs as he gasped for oxygen in the smoke-filled air. The Doctor, he thought. I have to find the Doctor. He searched the area for somewhere safe, some cove or copse to hide, to check… he could feel her straining to breathe; he could hear the little cries that she tried to muffle whenever he jostled her. Nathaniel swallowed hard, fearing the worst. If she dies, it's my fault. I put her here, I brought her to the front lines like he told me to, I left her alone, I betrayed her…I killed her.

He gritted his teeth as he reached Confederate lines, exhausted. He shoved through the soldiers and tumbled to his knees when he reached the other side. Doggedly, he got back up and kept walking towards the town, searching for help, searching for the one man who could help.

He reached out to the men around busy around him, bustling to face the battle.

"I need a doctor!" Nathaniel shouted out desperately, looking down at Laney's prone form. He could not see her chest move and she was so, so quiet. "Please!" he pleaded to the soldiers around him. "Please, he's my friend, he's gonna die without a doctor."

One grizzled older man stopped, removed his hat respectfully, and shook his head as he saw the bundle Nathaniel was carrying. He gestured towards Confederate camp as he looked upon Nathaniel's charge, stating gruffly, "Surgeon's that-a-way, but I think you need a priest, son."

Nathaniel ignored him as he ran in the way the older man had pointed, running towards anything, absolute anything that could take the pain and guilt away. He clutched her closely, adjusting her head until it cradled in his chest. C'mon, stay with me. Just stay here, stay with me, he begged with her silently.

When they reached the "hospital," Nathaniel knew he was in the right place not because of the sight, but the smell. The sharp smell of iron and blood filled the air as cries and moans from the injured blended to orchestrate a terrible dirge, as if inviting the wounded and almost dead to the gates of Hell.

Nurses walked around to the fallen, providing water and bandages, but the most they could do was give them a kind word as these men waited to die. Priests and pastors followed closely behind, offering last rites and prayers to the fallen men. Nathaniel fell to his knees in exhaustion and laid Laney on an empty cot under a tree, the only place he could find available.

"A doctor, please!" he cried out urgently, "I need a doctor!"

"You and everyone else, kid!" replied a voice from a nearby cot.

Ignoring the taunt, he carefully took off her gray uniform cap and laid it beside her, holding a dirty hand to her now pale face. She was ice cold. A lump rising in his throat, he placed a hand gently over her stomach, checking for any signs of breath. She remained still and quiet.

The lump grew and he grabbed at her hand, holding it tightly. "Laney?" he whispered. She remained silent

"Laney!" he cried out anxiously, sitting next to her on the cot and jostling her gently as if coaxing her awake, "Please wake up, please…" She did not move, did not speak, and did not appear to breathe. He stood up quickly, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. "I need a doctor!" he cried furiously, standing and waving his arms. None came.

A nurse noticed the young man, followed his gaze towards Laney, and shook her head sadly before returning to the amputee that she was caring for. "We need a priest!" she called out, a few clergymen turning their heads. A particularly tall Catholic priest crossed himself reverently and began to stride over to the young pair.

Nathaniel, resigned, staggered weakly back to the cot, where he sat beside her, wringing his hands. "Laney, please…" he begged fruitlessly, lightly touching her hair, her face, even her hands. He traced the hollows and dips of her fingers with his own, remembering the first time they met. The memory itself stabbed him in the chest, twisting to leave an aching hole.

Tears made tracks through the soot on his face, falling on the tattered, blood-soaked gray of her jacket. Then quietly, determinedly, he lifted her up and rested her in his chest once more. He gently pulled her arms out of the hot, filthy coat sleeves and took off her uniform jacket, careful to not pull on her wounds before tossing the offending item of clothing on the grass. As he held her, Laney's blood soaked into his vest and coated his hands. Instead of shirking away he pulled her closer, burying his nose in her hair, the tears flowing freely down his face as he realized the ultimate consequence of his actions. He kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer. "Yer gonna be jus' fine," he repeated dully. "Just…fine."

"You killed her, you know."

Nathaniel jerked his head up and found himself staring into the cold, angry face of the Doctor, dressed as a priest. "I'm…I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice muffled.

The Doctor shook his head angrily; his eyes sorrowful as he commanded grimly, "Get away from her."

Nathaniel laid her down slowly and stood to face the Time Lord, reaching out to him, imploring. "Please, if you really are a doctor, please… save her. "

The Doctor seemed taken aback by the traitor's pleading, but swept to Laney's side, pulling out his sonic screwdriver. He gave her a quick scan and with a flick of the wrist, read the results. His expressions remained emotionless as he put the screwdriver away and swiftly laid his fingers gently on the side of her face, closing his eyes.

Hello, Doctor.

The Doctor jumped and pulled away, startled.

"Is she alright?" Nathaniel pressed.

The Doctor neglected to reply, merely laid his hands on the sides of her face once more.

Hello, Doctor.

Laney? Are you there?

Obviously.

You're not dead? This is quite strange, I was very sure that you were dead not two minutes ago.

Not sure. Am I? I felt like I was dying. Wait, you're here! You're all right!

Yes, I'm all right, and no, I don't think you are. Listen to me very closely, Miss Laney. You are unconscious; you've been hurt quite badly.

No shit, Sherlock. I tried to join the Army. I've never been in a fight in my life.

Language, young lady! You're going to be fine, you've got a collapsed lung and have lost a quite a bit of blood. I need you to remain in this state just for a little while. I'll wake you up when it's safe.

But Nathaniel…

He's alive; he's here with me. I need him to do something for me, something very important. Saving the world type of important.

Why can't I help?

I need you to get better, and this is currently the only way I can have you handle your pain. Don't worry; you have already done so much. More than you know.

Promise to take care of him?

Cross both of my hearts. Sweet dreams, miss. This will all be over soon.

The Doctor opened his eyes and pulled away from Laney's motionless body before standing up and facing Nathaniel. He shook his head, turned away, and began to walk towards the town.

"Doctor!" said Nathaniel disbelievingly, walking after him. "You're jus' gonna leave her?"

The Doctor pivoted quickly and stood face to face with Nathaniel, his voice so low and threatening it was almost a feral growl. "You killed her for your boss, did you not? I expect you, oh Judas, need to collect your coins of silver."

Nathaniel swallowed hard and backed away. "So you know, but lemme explain..."

The Doctor smiled hollowly, a mirthless chuckle escaping from his lips. "Know? Of course I know. I know how you were there in the beginning. I know you lied to her and manipulated her and made her trust you and when all you wanted was to put a bullet in her brain."

"It ain't like that!" protested Nathaniel.

The Doctor poked Nathaniel hard in the chest, pushing the man slowly backward as he advanced, his voice harsh and unforgiving. "I know you led her to the front lines. No use in getting your hands dirty, oh no, not you. Just another casualty of a pointless war that you could profit from, that's all she was to you!"

"NO!" Nathaniel cried, crumpling to the ground. All he could look at was his bloodstained hands and front that was covered in her blood, covered in her life. "I'm sorry," he lamented, gripping his fists tight. "I might be a liar, but hear me now. She ain't that to me."

The Doctor grew quiet and squatted down next to Nathaniel. "What was she, then?" he inquired softly.

Nathaniel turned his face away, unable to face the Doctor. "She was… unexpected. It started out an assignment, but Doc, I ain't seen no other girls like her." The ghost of a grin flickered on his face as he remembered how she strutted in the barn that fated day, the day she enlisted.

"She was tough and strong and sweet and smart, and she didn't even care about herself. She jus' wanted to save you, Doc, I didn't even say nothin' about the war." He began to choke up, but forced the tears back down, his eyes staring directly at the ground in front of him as if it held all the answers. His voice was hollow, emotionless as he struggled against the guilt the spread through him like lighting.

"I tried to protect her, " he whispered, "I tried, but I guess a traitor like me ain't worth a girl like her because…" he swallowed hard, "I killed her. I looked away and she got hurt. " Unbidden, a teardrop feel from his eye and rolled down is face. He pretended not to notice it and continued, "I only let her join 'cause I was too much a coward to tell the General I couldn't kill her. "

He hung his head in shame, tears now pouring down his filthy face. "And now…now I guess I got to face up to him, don't I?" He laughed mirthlessly. "I got to show off my prize. Like a deer you take home to Papa." He wiped his nose and looked away, out into the haze of smoke into the distance. "You know, Doctor, you was right to call me Judas. You see, Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss." A slight tinge of pink lit on his cheeks as he stood up. "Guess I ain't much different," he remarked dourly.

The Doctor stood his distance, watching the young man carefully as if taking notes on his behavior. When Nathaniel was finished speaking, he nodded sternly and gestured to the cot. "It's time."

Nathaniel stood up slowly and silently and looked over once more at Laney's cot. Gently, he scooped her into his arms once more. He paused as he took one last, long look. For good measure, he tenderly combed out her hair with his fingers, letting it hang in her face like it used to. He wiped the dried blood off of the corner of her mouth and face with his sleeve and tried to remove as much dirt as he could, wiping off the layers of soot from the battle. Once he began to see the shadow of the girl he once knew, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead lightly.

This small piece of grief completed, he slowly began to walk towards the town, but stopped suddenly when he felt the Doctor lay a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going with you," the Doctor asserted calmly. "It's time that we end this for once and for all."

Nathaniel nodded, adjusting Laney to where her head lay snugly in his chest. "I...I can't...promise that you'll be safe."

"I know. I'm going anyway," avowed the Doctor. "Every man needs his conscience when he goes to face his demons."