Julia looked tiredly at the light outside the emergency room. Several hours had passed and there was still no news about Richard's condition. She hugged herself as she remembered how cold he was and how violently he shook the moment he was placed on a stretcher. She ran inside the hospital with the soldiers in a daze and she couldn't even keep her thoughts away from the general as several doctors and nurses examined her. After she was given some medicine and warm, comfortable clothes, she sat outside the emergency room instead of getting rest. Nurses came and offered her some food but she ate very little. The things she took in were all tasteless and so she didn't really realize that the water she drank was actually oral dextrose. The doctors were worried about her condition but because of the determination in her eyes, they let her wait outside the emergency room as she pleased.

"…Protocol ma'am…"

She remembered the soldier's words to her when she asked him a question after letting him take charge of Richard's gun.

"… It's necessary for someone to give his weapons or anything that is essential to his companion's survival once he feels that he is going to be debilitated or about to collapse soon."

Richard knew all along that his body was failing already.

She unabashedly let the tears fall from her eyes. She was filled with guilt and sadness. The best friend she ever had was dying and there was nothing she could do about it. In fact, she had even caused his condition. If she had just stayed in Deling, if she had only thought rationally, if only she hadn't been stupidly reckless… then maybe Richard was safe on his office right at that moment, working, smiling. She was slightly mad at him for being so selfless but she was mostly mad at herself.

He always thought about her yet she now that she thought about it, she rarely did the same to him. He wrote earnestly to her often, even when he was in the academy but as the years passed, her replies had not been as heartfelt as usual. He had always frequented the bar yet she rarely noticed him… for her eyes were always on the missing emerald-eyed soldier. The bartenders often told her of the quiet general who watched her play the piano every night he could. They told her of the sincere admiration they saw in his eyes every time he watched her touch the ivory keys.

Richard was right. Why didn't she just see him instead? That could have stopped their hearts from breaking.

"Miss Heartily?"

It took a while for Julia to realize that a man called her attention as he stood in front of her.

"Y...yes?" she quickly stood up and looked at the doctors eyes intently.

"He's going to be all right now Ma'am. You can go to rest."

"Richard… he's going to be all right?" Tears fell from her eyes once more as she heard the news. "Are you sure? Are you telling me the truth?"

"Yes ma'am. But I'm afraid we have to keep him in the intensive care unit for a day or so. We are still stabilizing his body temperature and electrolyte level," the old man placed his hand on the pianist's shoulder in reassurance. "But all his injuries had been treated. It's up to his body to recover. But let me tell you that General Caraway is a fighter."

She sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. Richard was going to be fine.

"Is he conscious? May I speak to him?" she asked with a shaky smile. She had to tell him what she should've told him hours ago.

"I am afraid not Ma'am. He's still unconscious. It would be best to let him rest for a few days. We recommend that you see visit him after three days when he's already in his private room. As for you Miss Heartily, I suggest you go to your own room and rest." The doctor bowed slightly to her and left.

Three days. That would be enough to thoroughly sort her feelings out.

"Three days Richard. I'll tell you how clearly I can see you in three days."

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He felt horribly warm all over. A very intense fever ravaged his body so badly that he thought he was in hell. He didn't care though, since he was sure that Julia Heartily was all right. He tried to move his hands yet he cannot. He can't even open his eyes. He felt so weak and all his muscles cried out in pain. He didn't really know where he was at that moment but he was sure that he wasn't in heaven or hell. He knew that he was alive…or barely alive. He knew that a person couldn't feel pain when he's dead… or could he? He was very confused. If the pain would be stopped by death then he was more than ready to succumb to it.

"Richard…"

That voice. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. Sure it belonged to the most famous singer at that time but he had heard that voice ever since he was a young boy. His mind screamed her name and in the blackness that surrounded him, he suddenly saw a small streak of light.

"I'm sorry Richard… It's all my fault you're hurt."

She sounded so sad. He wanted to hold her hand to reassure her and to tell her that it was all right. His condition right now wasn't her fault to begin with. Sure he felt like he was in agony but he had to admit that he had been in worse conditions. Maybe death wasn't that necessary after all.

"Please hang on for me…"

He'd do anything for her. That was the only clear thought he had at that moment. If only he can command his body to agree with him.

"… I have something important to tell you, you know?"

Important? What could it possibly be?

"…I need you Richard…"

He knew he was dreaming but why did it seem so real? He wished it were real. Julia needed him…

"Please…"

...Julia…

"I'm sorry. I have to go now."

He wanted to plead to her, to tell her not to leave. Julia. She was his only comfort in this abyss he was trapped in. Silent tears fell from his eyes as his only angel slowly left him and he went back to his dreamless slumber.

He knew he needed to recover. He needed to endure the pain. He had to.

The singer took one last look at the ailing general behind the glass window and left, hoping and praying that he heard her heart.