Having never felt so happy in his entire life, John was not prepared for how quickly the feeling could be ripped away at the hands of a single conversation.

Ever since that fateful moment, John had spent the entire afternoon locked in silent fixation as he flipped through every second he had shared with her in the past week, second-guessing every decision he had made that had led him to this point of utter despair.

It's not like you didn't already know she would run once she found out. John thought miserably as he turned over in his bed and pulled the covers over his head, feeling betrayed by his own mind as it slipped him images of her radiant face, mesmerizing him in the light of the setting sun.

Before this morning, everything about this past week had left him in a constant state of pleasant dizziness, his body buzzing with kinetic energy. All that remained of that now was a cavern in his chest where his heart had once been.

When she had first arrived the afternoon after he had learned her secret, he knew he was about to receive an earful, which ensured he could preemptively plan his reaction to their inevitable conversation. What he wasn't prepared for was how easy their banter came or how quickly she laughed in his company. Or how natural it felt to have her hand fit perfectly in the space beneath his own.

Her quietness as they meandered back towards where she had stashed the wheelchair made him nervous that his exploratory touch had spooked her. But as she wheeled him back under the fading sun that cast a brilliant pink and purple hue across the billowing clouds, he could tell from her laughter that something within her had shifted.

So when he saw her at the same time the next day, rolling the wheelchair to his bedside, he nearly toppled it over as he jumped in, desperate to spend another moment in her company.

While she could have taken him to the wooden tables under the shade canopy where the other nurses delivered patients for fresh air, she never did. And ever since then, they had fallen into a simple routine that caused him, a man who had never dreamed of a woman before, to wake in a cold sweat, tormented by the images of her that swam around him all night.

The slowly ticking clock on the wall behind his bed had finally brought him to the edge of his sanity, and he shot up in his bed, searching for the nearest heavy object that he could hurl at it if it didn't shut up soon. Taking a moment to mull over the idea, maybe he should follow through only if it would summon her to him so that he could see her grin, which made him feel like a boy again, skiving off school to cause mischief.

However, as four o'clock came and went, and still no familiar sound of a wheelchair rolling towards him came, he crashed back onto his bed, pulling his pillow over his eyes as he wallowed in his misery again.

That morning had started like any other; he had eaten his breakfast, written a letter to Tommy and was just tucking into the book Nurse Robinson had slipped into his lap after their walk yesterday when that chit of a VAD walked over with the washing cart. The woman in question was the newly arrived volunteer who was so nervous around men that he was sure she had never spent more than five minutes with one in her life.

"I have been sent to do your bath today, Private Shelby." she stammered, not even able to look him in the eye as she did so.

He'd be damned if this mouse of a woman went anywhere near his bare skin. Yet, even he had the decency to spare her suffering from not allowing her to go through with a task that clearly distressed her.

While John knew he had the power to bring a woman the closest she'd ever come to meeting God, he saw from the thick crucifix around her neck that she had never been privy to such religious experience.

"That won't be necessary, Nurse Fagan. I've been cleaned up recently, so you can hop on over to Private Mackay here, who smells like he's never met a bar of soap in his life." John smiled at her and nodded his head to Private Mackay who was flipped over on his stomach, writing a letter in his bed.

"And take the necessary learning experience away from Nurse Fagan, who needs to practice her skills on a feral bastard like you? I could never!" Private Mackay tossed over his shoulder, causing the nurse to gasp in horror.

"But I cannot deviate from my order. It says on my list that I am to start with Private Shelby. I must follow the rules." she squeaked out again, her eyes darting between both men as if caught between two cats.

"Then it's settled. I bet you have been making Matron happy since you've arrived here, Nurse Fagan." Private Mackay laughed.

"England will only win this war through discipline, hard work and the Lord." she nodded, clutching her crucifix as she spoke, her voice steadying.

He was so bloody sick of hearing about God were the words he swallowed as the nurse prepared the washbasin with a heavy dose of carbolic soap. There was no God here. Even if he did believe in him, no Almighty would ever allow this fucking war to go on as it was. With men living and dying by the millions, cut to pieces by hot metal and left to die by drowning in the flooded fields of their companion's blood. Only for their bloated bodies to be consumed by rats in the end.

Forcing himself back to the present, he looked at the clock and saw the time. He only had a few minutes until he was going to be picked up for his walk. "I'll take a back scrub, but the rest I can manage on my own before the ward sister comes by later for me leg."

Nurse Fagan nodded her head dutifully as he took off his shirt and sat there feeling ridiculous as her eyes roved over his chest, the fear gripping her face again.

"Go on, Nurse; the Lord will forgive you. You won't be the first woman brought to sin by the sight of the man." Private Mackay sang out before John could put him in his place.

"Piss off; let the nurse do her fucking job," John responded, needing for this to be over as soon as possible.

She worked silently, dabbing him so gently that she might as well have not even attempted to wash him in the first place. But he played nice, not saying a word and not looking over at Private Mackay, to not start either of them laughing.

"This doesn't look right," he heard her say from behind him, the sponge stalling over his upper left shoulder blade.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Your wound isn't healing properly."

"I don't have a wound on my shoulder."

"Isn't this scar from a bullet?"

While it had been a rather significant part of his life at the time, John hadn't even thought of the old bullet hole that had left a thick, pink scar across his back where he was shot when he was seventeen.

"It's no bother, Nurse. Leave it be."

"But it seems suspicious. I must get the ward sister -"

"Don't!" He cut her off sharply, knowing that Nurse Robinson must have just started her shift by this time. "That won't be necessary, I swear."

"Rules state if anything is out of the ordinary, I must alert the nurse on duty." She said as she got up, turning to face Nurse Robinson at the end of the ward.

"Please, don't!" He desperately begged.

"Don't be ridiculous, Private Shelby. It's for your own good." She quipped as she tossed the sponge back into the basin, splashing him with water as she turned and rushed over to the nursing station.

John groaned as he watched the conversation unfold, cringing as Nurse Robinson's brows knitted together, lines forming between them as her eyes darted towards him once Nurse Fagan had finished speaking.

"Fuck me," he swore under his breath as he fortified himself against the goosebumps that erupted on his skin as she blew towards his bedside and stood there tapping her foot with her hands on her hips.

"You told me your leg was the first wound you had received care in hospital for." She questioned, staring him down.

"It is."

With a sharp breath and a shake of her head, she leaned down, pulling him forward by the shoulder so that his back was tilted towards her gaze. He was lucky he already had goosebumps across his back because surely they would have erupted when her soft fingers palpated and stroked the old scar on his back.

"You were shot before," she prompted after he found it difficult to find his words.

"Aye, I have; before the war. I didn't go to the hospital, so I'm not lying to you."

"I never thought you were. I can tell by the way it healed. Are you in pain?"

He had been for years afterwards. But it hadn't caused him a twinge since he'd joined up.

"Like I told Nurse Fagan, I'm fine. So can I put my shirt back on now?"

"No." Her short response caused him to blink hard, trying to tell if she was joking or not.

"What happened?"

"Wrong place, wrong time." He shrugged.

"Fucking Shelby's!" Private Mackay piped up from beside him and John frowned at him, forgetting there was even anyone else around. "Always up to trouble. My mam would tell stories about how you lot were the reason why dad never had two coins to rub together! 'Did you place your bet before or after that gypsy told your fortune?' she'd screech out across the dinner table." he laughed before John cut him off.

"I'd stop now if I were you," John said, his jaw rigid as his eyes pierced Nurse Robinson's, attempting to gauge her reaction to the story.

"Come off it! The nurse doesn't care. I bet she could use a splash of something to shake up her day." he continued, ignoring her still demeanour and fixed gaze. " Now, here's a story for you! Has John here ever told you about her reason we're both here?"

"The nurse doesn't have time for your fairytales, Mackay."

John watched as she stood there, looking like she was about to speak, but Private Mackay cut her off and dove head first into the story that John had been fighting so hard to forget.

"Fine! If you are going to be such a pisspot about it, all I'll say is this. As soon as we go over the top, John here proves himself a born killer. A fucking dangerous man. We're just bloody lucky he is on our side. Unless you're an officer, that is, eh Johnny? I swear Liuetentant Simpson was seconds away from putting a bullet in your head if he wasn't too busy shitting himself. That or you would've been the one to pull the trigger on him."

"Excuse me, but you're right," she said, abruptly cutting him off. "I don't have time for nonsense stories." Her face gave nothing away as she turned back toward the traumatized volunteer. "The wound is normal, Nurse Fagan. He requires no further attention." Before leaving his beside, never to return.

Those words had haunted him all afternoon, leaving him a complete misery to himself and everyone else who crossed his path.

"You just couldn't keep your bloody mouth shut, could you?" John roared to Private Mackay after he had given up all hope that she was ever coming back.

"What do you mean? You're a war hero! I thought you'd want her to know."

"Not in those exact words, you idiot!"

"But it's the truth!"

"Just don't ever fucking talk about my family or me to anyone else again. Am I understood?"

"Sorry, mate. I didn't think it'd bother you. It's not like you try to hide who you are."

Therein lied the truth of his confliction, though he would never admit that while he was in this state. Over the years, he had worked hard on coming to terms with who he was and the family he was born into. And beyond that, it was much more profound than acceptance that he had reached; it was pure unconditional pride. So to have this old self-consciousness rear its ugly head after all this time unsettled him deeply. He spat the last piece of his toothpick out, as he reached over to grab another, before chomping down on it again as his brain rattled incessantly.

While his primary concern still rested in grappling with the fact that she might never talk to him again, the emergence of all these feelings inside him since their meetings began was throwing him for a loop. Where was the John Shelby that would fucking cut anyone who challenged him? Or, even worse, made him question himself?

John held his hand up, silencing his friend's following comment as he spied Nurse Robinson appearing for the first time since this morning. She was either pulling a double shift or maybe… his hopeful eyes followed her as she wandered over to the new nursing sister and added some papers to the stack already on the desk. With a sharp intake of breath, he shifted his gaze towards the small window across from him, needing to calm the flurry of his galloping heartbeat.

Even when ignoring her, he could still feel the nagging presence of her on his skin that sent prickles down through his extremities. The sensation only intensified as he heard the sound of wheels on the scrubbed wooden floors getting louder as it approached him. He fought to keep his gaze fixed anywhere but the sound of the noise, trying to control the speed of the bubble swelling in his chest. But, when it stopped before him, he still couldn't summon the strength to pull his eyes back to where he viciously wanted to.

"Come on, Private Shelby, hop in."

It turned out his efforts to control the bubble were futile, as it burst open on its own accord as soon as he heard her soothing voice speaking his name.

"I thought you were avoiding me."

"I won't ask you again."

He didn't need to be told twice; that was certain.

—

The gusty late autumn winds stirred up the musty smell of decomposing leaves as a stray raindrop slipped off the skeletal canopy of the tree overhead landing directly on the tip of John's nose.

He swiftly brushed it away with his shirt sleeve as he focussed more on the uncomfortable rough bark of the log he was sitting on than the deadened silence protruding between them.

If only he could fucking walk, he would have traipsed across the dead pine leaves that had carpeted the dirt of their meeting spot to kick a bloody rock into the small pond across from them.

She had been the one to invite him out here! How much of a sadist did she have to be to torment him further with her damned silence? It wasn't like he needed more punishment than he already had given himself for the past two hours. To hell with it all; he didn't care anymore. If she didn't want to speak in the next minute, he would just crawl back to the ward tent on his hands and knees if he bloody well —

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

Christ. He didn't rightly know what it was he wanted to say. In his wallowing, he hadn't actually taken a moment to plan his response if she had given him the chance to speak. But wasn't the sound of his pounding heart evidence enough of how he felt?

Sod it all, he was who he fucking was, so there was no point in leaving anything left unsaid at this point.

Taking a steadying breath, he spoke the honest truth.

"Gypsy, gambler, killer," he said, tapping his chest with every word. He was branded with the words long ago, and he needed her to hear the words coming from him, leaving no room for misinterpretation of who he was.

If she was surprised by his honesty, she kept it hidden from him, but mercifully he didn't have to wait long for her response.

"My entire life, I have been surrounded by –"

"Men like me?" He supplied impatiently, having to force a bitter smile as she nodded. At least he had the confirmation that she could never look at him the same once the truth was out. He commanded himself not to turn towards her as a wash of cold swept over him, his heart withering in his chest.

"In many ways, yes, you are. But I want you to know that –"

He bowed his head, running his hands through his hair, interrupting her again. "It's important to tell you that I could never live with myself knowing you were scared of me."

"Scared?"

"I need you to know that there are good reasons behind every choice I make." He continued, ignoring her words knowing that he had only one chance to make this right.

"I believe you."

"I am aware that there are parts of me that know darkness, but when I'm with you, a light has drowned them out." he paused before taking another deep breath, "You will always be safe with me, mo stór."

"Private Shelby, stop. Will you let me bloody talk for a second," She blurted, reaching out to touch his forearm, which pulled him out of his spiralling thoughts so that he could finally look at her and catch his breath.

"Cockney, deceiver, thief." She countered, matching his words from earlier and replacing them with ones of her own, her voice equally confident. "That is who I am, on top of everything else," she added, shrugging her shoulders.

The wind kicking up the dead leaves around him must have blocked his ears because he couldn't have heard her correctly. "What did you just say?" he repeated, his cautious eyes now daring to look at her picture-perfect face.

"You heard me."

He wasn't sure how he mustered the strength not to pull her into his arms and kiss her like he'd never let her go at the sight of her sly grin. But being the greedy bastard he was, he couldn't help but turn towards her, ensuring that their knees touched as he slowly reached up to brush off a fallen leaf caught in her hair.

"Is that your bloody way of telling me you'll pick me up tomorrow, girl? Because I don't think this hospital is prepared for what might happen if I have to watch you walk away again."

Her brilliant eyes ignited as she grabbed his hand and held it firmly in her own. "Yes, Private Shelby. I'll come back for you."