As she slept, she dreamt….or was it a dream? She saw her father, falling under the impact of enemy fire, her uncle at his side. She felt hot tears fall onto her face, the cold rain soaking the rest of her as she watched through the basement window. She remembered how completely helpless she had felt as half her life died in front of her. That day, she had vowed that she would protect her uncle, who had become her second father, at any cost, in order to atone for her failure. Today, the day of atonement had come. Her shoulder throbbed in unbearable pain, yet she had to bear it…she had to fight. Then again, the danger had passed. He was safe… for now. Tired, it was the one word that continued to repeat itself in her mind. A battle raged inside her. She suddenly felt lost, unaware of her surroundings. Darkness clouded her memory. Glimpses of familiarity came into view, and then they were gone. She had to get back, but back where? Where was she going, or for that matter, where was she coming from? Must get back, must get back.

The twenty-four hours had passed. An ambulance was called to transport Julia to a hospital room. Nigel never once left his niece's side. Another twenty-four hours passed. Nigel had been informed that Julia had slipped into a comatose state; the effects of the poisonous bullet were taking their merciless toll. She would have, however, not survived if the bullet had remained in her any longer than it had. Dr. Macy was commended for his makeshift surgical prowess. The fight for her life continued, with Nigel continuously watching over her.

Thirty-two hours had passed. It was late at night, with only the sound of monitors beeping. The physically and emotionally drained frame of a man sat on the edge of the hospital bed. His long black hair was mused, uncombed and out of place, caused by his continuous nervous habit of running his hands through it. His eyes drooped sullenly, exhausted, and painfully aware of what a possible outcome might be. But no, he mustn't think of that. He held a motionless hand in both his hands. He decided he would try speaking to her again. Could she even hear him? Of course she could.

"Julia? Can you hear me? I need you, Julia. I need you to keep fighting. You have to win, you have to beat this….just like you always beat me when we fence." He chuckled, remembering. "We haven't done that in a while now have we? When you get well again, you'll have to let me have a go at trying to win. You'll stay with me, of course. I've missed you terribly. Now that you're here we can finally do more things together, instead of phoning and emailing each other. We'll be a family again. You and me." His voice cracked. "You can't leave me, Julia. I need you." A tear escaped from his eye, falling onto her hand. As if by magic, he suddenly felt a slight squeeze on his hand. He almost jumped.

"Julia! Follow my voice."

Another squeeze.

"Come on, luv, you're almost here."

Her eyes fluttered.
"That's the way," he was close to bouncing with anxious excitement.

Her eyes slowly opened. Unaware of her surroundings, panic crept into her eyes.
"Shh, shh, it's alright, luv. I'm right here. You're safe now. I'm right here." Nigel crooned softly, brushing his fingers against her cheek, comforting her. "Welcome back."