She certainly hadn't felt so ill and quite a while, she was cold despite the several army issue green blankets staked up on top of her frail body. Still her mind was a little clearer now, she could concentrate on one thing in across from her or beside her bed and not fall back into an unconscious state, however she was not convinced that her luck would last. Something inside her felt wrong... misplaced, she was so extremely, it was as if she hadn't slept in two weeks, nut that was quite the opposite.

Sara had been in the flu ward for a week and a half, moving in and out of consciousness much to Hawkeye's worry. It had only been in the last two and a half days that she had been able to stay awake and eat a little without throwing it all back up. Her skin was deathly pale according to the nurses, they made her out to sound like some sort of creature that had been dug up after being buried in the ground for thousands or years... honestly, she didn't feel that bad. In fact her strength seemed to be slowly returning, it was the oddest case of flu she had ever experienced in her entire life.

"Hey kiddo," Trapper was standing over her bed, a clipboard in hand and his cheap grin plastered on his face, "How you feeling?"

"A bit better," She replied with a sly smile, "How do I look?"

"Better than you probably feel," He retorted with a playful grin, "You really had us worried there for a while, especially Hawkeye, he's been going crazy."

Sara laughed weakly and fell back into her pillow, "Yeah, I imagine he probably has been, How many martini's?"

"I had to cut him off at 4 per day, it was getting dangerous." Trapper replied, Sara tried to find the light humour in his voice but there was none, Trapper John McIntyre was worried about Hawkeye and now so was Sara.

"Four... a day? You're joking!" She exclaimed.

"I wish," Trapper said ruefully, "He was really worried, can't say I blame him, finding you in a dead faint in the Swamp wasn't the most reassuring thing in the world."

"Oh I did not faint!" The young girl retorted, "I was sleeping."

"Try and try as you might you just can't convince me of that," Trapper said, becoming slightly more cheery, "But as long as you're feeling better... How's the headache?"

"Disappearing as we speak."

"On a scale of one to ten."

"Being..."

Trapper rolled his eyes, " One being an irritating itch at the back of your throat, ten being eaten alive by fire ants while preforming a lobotomy on yourself without anaesthesia."

"Four and a half." Sara replied.

"And that would be..."

"Tripping and falling in gravel and having to pull out rocks embedded in your knee just after a dentist appointment." The youth replied.

"Ah so you are getting better, I'm glad." Trapper scribbled something down on his clipboard before looking up again, "You still look really pale, We're going to keep you here until we can get your temperature down to something reasonable."

"Fair enough," Sara said with a shrug, suddenly turning very calm and quiet, Trapper knew something was on her mind.

"What's wrong?"

"It's not.... Well I mean, It doesn't feel like Flu, Trapper. It's not the same, I feel sort of... wrong."

Trapper furrowed his brow as he sat down on the edge of her small cot, "What do you mean, "wrong"... How so?"

Sara closed her eyes while pondering a way to explain what she meant, it was a difficult task, her mind still was finding it tricky to focus on such an important and odd thing as the feeling roaming inside her body. "It feels like... Im sort of dried out... Like Im just full of a lot of sand inside, when I had the flu last time I felt sick but more wishy washy sick... this is different, this is... wrong."

Trapper frowned, "Well, that might explain why you look so white, you're probably just dehydrated, We can run some tests if you want, you said you were starting to feel better but it might be a good idea..."

"Uh, no thanks. I'll be okay, like you said, it's probably dehydration." Sara replied quickly, knowing that if tests were run Hawkeye would see the results whether she wanted him to or not.

Trapper clearly knew what she was up to, he gave a small smile before speaking, "You know, Hawkeye's worried about you. The tests might be important... he's a doctor, or so I'm told, if the results are abnormal I'm sure he wouldn't freak out."

"You know me too well Trap," Sara said with a sly smile, "But no, If I start feeling crappy again then I'll get some tests done, for now I just want to let it pass and see what happens."

"If you're sure."

"I am."

"Ookay,"

"Stop sounding so doubtful!" The young girl snapped, "You're making me nervous."

"Sorry," Trapper chuckled, "Listen, I'll leave you to it, got more beds to check, patients to nurse, Nurses to make patients. You going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," she replied, "Just gonna get some more sleep."

"Good, you need it, I'll tell Hawkeye to stop by later so he can confirm you're still alive and kicking with his own two eyes."

"He needs a nurse." Sara said as she closed her eyes, "And badly."

"That's what I tell him, he doesn't listen to me." Trapper said with a grin as he stood up and placed the clipboard once more at the end of the bed, "We'll play match maker with him when you're feeling better."

No reply came from the girl, she was already fast asleep. Trapper smiled sadly and walked over to the nurses station where Houlihan stood, arms crossed in a defensive manor but a pained look on her face.

"How's she doing McIntyre?"

"It's hard to say," Trapper replied in a low whisper, "She says she's feeling better but she still..."

"Looks white as a ghost?"

Trapper nodded, "Exactly."

"What's wrong with her?"

"I'm not sure," Trapper replied and he rubbed his eyes, "I don't know what to do, tell Hawkeye and get him worried or keep it from him..."

"He'd want to know..."

"Yeah, but look what her being sick for a week has done to him."

"Is she going to be alright?" The major asked softly.

"Honestly Margaret..." Trapper said slowly, "I'm not sure.