A/N: Wow. Thank you yummyyogurts,Ragnarsdottir, Queenie, Guest, and Eugene's sizzuhs for your reviews. I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

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I opened my eyes to bright white light. I was warm. I felt no pain. I felt safe; comfortable. I tried to look around the bright room and saw the outline of a figure standing nearby. I allowed my eyes to adjust to the bright light, asking, "Where am I?"

The person turned around and said, "You're all right. You're at an aide station."

I blinked a few times, glancing about. Suddenly, I bolted up right, but hands stopped me from sitting up too far, pushing me back into bed. I shouted, "Speirs!"

"Calm down! You're going to pull your stitches again if you're not careful," the woman stated as she tried to reassure me back.

I suddenly felt the ache on my side where the new stitches were placed. I asked, "Where's Speirs?"

The nurse replied, "Your men brought you here about a three days ago."

"I've been out for three days?" I asked, in shock.

She nodded. "You're been through a lot from the looks of you when you came here. It's been touch and go for us to make sure you'd stay alive. Your fever finally broke last night."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Where are the men now?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't know."

"Where is this aide station?" I inquired.

She sighed. "You need your rest." Without giving me any more answers, she walked away from me. I felt pangs of remembering how things were with Sauer, suddenly anxious of why she wouldn't tell me where I was. I feared that Sauer, or even Marta, would suddenly appear to finish what they started.

I glanced about the room in which I was in. There were several wounded men laying in beds around the room. Most were badly wounded and covered in gauze. Others were just recovering and resting. None of them seemed to be concerned that something might be amiss...but then again, none of them were under the thrall of the mind games I had endured.

The man laying in the bed next to me leaned over. "Hey. Hey!" I turned my attention over to him. He asked, "What's your name?"

I thought about ignoring him, but decided that maybe I could get answers from him. "Jane."

He smiled. "Jane. Lovely name. I'm Henry."

I offered a half smiled, clearly forced.

He asked, "What happened to you?"

I looked down at my bandaged sides. The gauze was fresh, but slightly stained with blood. I looked back at him. "It's a long story."

"I've got time," he stated.

I stared at him. I wasn't willing to talk about what happened, especially with someone that I just met, someone I didn't know, and couldn't even begin to trust. I turned away from him.

"Hey, come on. Don't be that way," he started. "I'm a nice guy, I promise. You don't have to tell me what happened. It's a bad habit of mine to be nosey. My mama always told me that I was too curious for my own good, that's why it killed our cat."

I furrowed my brow, turning back to him. "That's not how that saying goes."

He smiled. "I know, but it really did get our cat killed."

I chuckled at the remark. It was a silly thing to laugh at, but it was the first time I had laughed in what felt like forever.

He smiled warmly at me. "That's a nice laugh. Are you a nurse?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm not."

He waited for me to continue, but when he realized that I wasn't going to, he motioned with his hand for me to continue. "So, you are...?"

I examined him. He was about my age. Brown hair, green eyes, specks of freckles that gently kissed his facial features. I couldn't see any wounds right off. I asked, "Why are you here?"

He blinked at me for a second and suddenly it dawned on him. "Oh, you mean, like in this place? Not the war in general, right?" He lifted the sheet to show his right leg in a cast. "Stupid joke gone bad. Jumped off the top of a tank into what I thought was a small pond...turns out it was really just a big puddle."

I laughed at the imagery. He smiled and laughed alongside me. He made me feel calm, safe. I shook that feeling away from me. The last time someone made me feel that way, I was betrayed.

He saw the sudden change in my demeanor. "Hey, you okay?"

I stared at my hands, wondering what to do or say.

He spoke softer. "Hey. Look at me."

I forced myself to look over at him. His green eyes offered sympathy, empathy. He leaned over as far as he could in his bed without falling out. He reached his hand towards me. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I swallowed hard, looking at his outstretched hand, but not taking it. I couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he threw his covers back from his bed and shifted his legs over the edge. He stood up and hobbled the two steps over to my bed's edge. He looked down at me, extending his hand once more. "I'm not going to hurt you, Jane."

I looked at his hand again, then up at him. He was offering a reassuring smile to me. I took his hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Nice to meet you, Jane," he said, still holding my hand in his.

I nodded in acknowledgement. He finally released my hand. He sat down on the edge of my bed, asking, "So, who do I get to look out for?"

Confused, I furrowed my brow at him. "What?"

He motioned to my wounds. "Who did that to you? I want to know who to look out for so that I can kill them for you." I tensed and he saw it. He quickly added, "I'm kidding. I'm clearly in no position to go looking for anyone, especially out of avenging you. Not that I wouldn't do it if I could..." He must have seen my face because he quickly stated, "I'm doing a terrible job at impressing you...I'm sorry, I'm not normally this stupid."

I thought for a moment before saying, "Actually, I should apologize to you."

"Me?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Why should you apologize to me?"

I tore my gaze from him, staring down at my hands. "I've not been around people in quite some time...I guess I just forgot how to-"

"How to talk to people?" he asked. When I nodded, he added, "Don't worry about it. Most people aren't worth talking to anyways."

I smirked a little at the comment. He smiled warmly at me.

One of the nurses happened to walk down the room towards us. She scowled at Henry and me. "What do you think you're doing out of bed?"

Henry looked at me and smiled, giving me a quick wink, before turning to face the angry nurse. "Sorry, I thought it was my free time."
The nurse was less than amused. "You don't have free time, soldier. Bed, now."

Henry gave her a half salute with two fingers. "Aye-aye, ma'am." He hobbled back over to his bed and sat down. When the nurse pursed her lips, waiting for him to lay back down, Henry nodded. "Fine, fine. You win." He laid back in bed, covering himself with his blankets. Once the nurse was satisfied, she walked away from us, but not before shooting us disapproving glances.

Henry chuckled. "Be careful of that one. She's not overly friendly."

"I've noticed," I admitted as I continued to watch her walk out of the room.

Henry asked, "How long do you think you'll be here?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I'm trying to find my company."

"You belong to a company?" he questioned, seemingly stunned by my answer.

I nodded. "Yeah...I've...well, I've been separated for a while..."

He studied my face and was connecting the dots. "Right..." He licked his lips and asked, "What division were you in? Maybe I can help you find them."

I turned to him and said without a shadow of a doubt, "Easy Company, Airborne division."

That evening, the nurse came back to clean the wounds and switch the bandages to a fresh pair. I laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, cringing with each wipe she did. It wasn't as if she was being gentle, but she was being thorough. I could feel tears seeping out the corners of my eyes. My hands were grasping the sheets next to me, balling them up as I held a tight grip. I felt a hand rub the top of my left hand, causing me to look over to see who had joined me - who was comforting me.

Henry looked down at me with pure concern across his face. He took my hand away from the mangled sheet and held it tight with both of his. He whispered, "You're okay. I'm right here with you."

I swallowed and blinked tears away. I felt a wave of embarrassment as I caught him looking at the wounds that I had as they were being cleaned and dressed. He stared at them for a moment longer than I would have liked, but I didn't say anything. He turned his gaze back to me, offering me a sympathetic smile.

When the nurse was finally finished with her task, she eyed Henry before leaving. He stood by my side, holding my hand, brushing my tears away from my eyes, but never saying a word. I expected him to ask me about the wounds again, but he didn't. All he did was stand beside me and comfort me as I silently wept.

I woke up in the middle of the night to see Henry talking to a few men on the opposite side of the room. He was motioning over to me a couple of times, but they were too far away for me to hear anything. I was too exhausted to stay awake to ask him questions for when he finally came back and I fell asleep.

Morning had come and Henry was sitting up in bed, reading a book. He looked over at me as he noticed me stirring. He smiled and put the book down. "Hey sleepyhead. How are you doing?"

I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. "What time is it?"

He replied, "Almost noon."

I sighed, dropping my hands to my chest. "I'm exhausted."

He chuckled. "Tends to happen. How are you feeling?"

I shifted uncomfortably in bed. "Sore. And uncomfortable. I need to get out of this bed."

Henry hobbled out of his bed and over to me. He stated, "Might not be a good idea yet."

I looked at him. "Why's that?"

He looked pained as he said, "Your wounds...they're not looking very good. Probably best just to stay in bed. I might be able to get them to prop you up a bit, so you're not just laying there all day."

I smirked. "Sitting up is better than this."

He laughed. "I'll see what I can do. Hold tight."

I watched as he hobbled across the room, looking for the nurse. He took a step outside of the room, and was met with a couple angry nurses. They kept pointing him back to his bed, but I could tell he was asking them about me because they glanced over at me. One nurse finally threw her hands up in defeat and walked away, while the other kept pushing Henry gently towards his bed.

Henry climbed into his bed and the nurse turned to me. She pointed to me, saying, "I'll be right back for you."

I swallowed. Memories of being told that I was next in line for torture hit me. The familiar voice of Sauer echoed in my mind. Flashes of the guards leading me to the shed or to the house seared my vision.

I felt hands on me, shaking me gently from my flashbacks. "Hey!"

Breaking me from my flashback, I glanced up at Henry who was holding my shoulders and clearly worried for me. "What happened?" I asked.

He furrowed his brow. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

I released a shaky breath. "I-I..."

The nurse came back, arms full with pillows. She saw Henry next to me again and shouted, "I will not tell you again!"

"Sorry, she was-" Henry began to speak.

I cut him off. "I was trying to sit up. He was stopping me."

The nurse shook her head, dropping the pillows on the table that sat between me and Henry's bed. "I swear, the two of you need to be separated. Don't tempt me to do it." She started to sit me up gently and began placing the mountain of pillows behind me, allowing me to sit up for the first time in a while. "How's that?"

I nodded. "Good, thanks."

She glanced between us and shook her head as she walked away from us.

Henry sat in his bed and asked, "What was that? Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Flashbacks?" he questioned.

I thought for a moment and admitted, "It might have been. I've never really had flashbacks before."

Henry nodded. "From what I've heard, little things set them off. Smells, actions of other people, things that have been said..."

I asked, "How do you make them stop?"

He shook his head. "I think if you know how to do that, you better share with the group. A lot of these guys have it. Most have night terrors instead...either way, it's not pretty."

I kept thinking back on things. How would things have turned out if I had just let Anna help me with my memory when she offered? Why did I have to be so stubborn about it? Why did I think it was a good idea to come over here as a photographer? Why did I think that I would make a difference? If I had stayed back home, do as I was told, I wouldn't be in this situation - I wouldn't have been tortured. Maybe I should have run when I had the chance - tried to escape when I could... I began to wonder what ever happened to Styne, Fritz, Utzig, and I wondered where Sauer, Lange, and Marta were. Questions were swirling around in my head like a tornado, more and more "what ifs" were flying by.

"You're thinking about something very seriously," Henry stated, breaking my concentration.

I blinked my attention back to him. "Sorry."

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. "I've been told I'm a good listener."

"Except when to stay in bed, it would seem," I pointed out.

He let a hearty laugh out. "Very true." He cleared his throat, becoming serious for a moment. "Seriously though, if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

I nodded. "I appreciate that."

"But?" he added.

"But..." I began. "I'm not even sure what to say, where to begin, or anything of the sort."

He shrugged. "I've heard that it's best for all stories, if you start at the beginning." He quickly added, "Only if you want to. I don't want to force you."

I didn't respond. I wasn't sure how to. I wasn't sure that anyone would understand what I had been through. He saw the wounds, maybe he would, but then again, would he judge me for not fighting back - not escaping or at the very least, trying to?

He must have seen the battle in my head about telling him my story, because he waved the idea off. "Don't worry about it. Some things are better left unsaid."

As he started to climb back into his bed, I asked, "What were you talking to those men over there about earlier?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Which men? When?"

I pointed across the room where he was last night and stated, "You were over there last night, talking to those men over there by the door. What was that all about?"

He covered himself with the covers. "Honestly? I was trying to find out where your company was."

I sat up a little too quickly, feeling the stitches pull. I eased back down and asked, "Did you find anything out?"

He nodded. "Yeah..." I could hear a hint of sadness in his voice. He added, "There was a guy here who was released a couple days before you got here. I think the guy's name was...Webster?"

I furrowed my brow, trying to think about which man was Webster. I couldn't place him. "Where was he going?"

Henry feigned a yawn. "I'm tired, Jane. I'll tell you tomorrow."

I watched as he rolled over and pretended to be asleep. I stared at his back, upset that he knew something but was keeping it from me. Maybe he didn't know, but wanted me to think he did. Or maybe he was afraid I'd leave him behind and rush back to my men. I wasn't sure what his motives for not telling me were, but I glanced over my shoulder to see that the men he had talked to were still there. I could always ask them when the time is right. That would be the card in my back pocket to use later.