Guns went off all around him. Men were falling, horses as well.
The smell of gunpowder and fear hung heavily in the air, and Captain James Nicholls kept charging on the back of his chestnut brown steed, Joey.
He held his glinting silver sword firmly forward, cutting the throats of any opposition that passed.
He fought the nervous feeling about the day that he had growing inside of him, pushing it away from his conscious mind. He was a soldier, and this is what soldiers did.
But he knew something would happen. He didn't know where, he didn't know when. But ever since he had yelled out the single word, 'Charge!' he had a sickening feeling that something would occur.
At least I don't have a family or a wife at home, he thought, to grieve for me…
He shook his head as he galloped on. Stop thinking this way… you have as fair a chance of getting out of this as anyone!
People whizzed by him in a blur, and the sun began to rise over the distant hills. He felt compelled to look up at the enemy gunners, to see who they were facing.
His eyes scanned the enemy attack line, crouched behind the hill at the entrance to the forest.
Suddenly, his eyes stopped on one. One gun was set directly for him.
He gulped, and his breath became rapid. This was it. This is the moment he knew was coming. And there was nothing he could do but watch the fire of the gun and feel the impact of the bullet in him.
His back hit the ground with a forceful smack, and with a soundless moan, he rolled onto his side. Horses jumped over him, and the roaring sound of hooves around him was overwhelming and echoing in his eardrums.
He clutched his side, where the bullet had gone through, and looked down at the wound.
There was blood pouring out in large quantities, and pain so unbearable running up and down his left leg that it made him cringe. His breath wheezed and he arched in pain. He held his hand against his middle to stop the blood, but he knew his actions wouldn't make a difference on his own.
He looked up at the morning sky, blue and clear now. He held his other arm above him to shield him from the trampling horses, as if it would do any good. His eyelids began to droop, and his sight began to cut out from the trauma.
Sky.
Black.
Sky.
Black.
The last thing he heard was a man yelling, but Captain Nicholls was too hurt to figure out or care if it was one of his own or the enemy. He blacked out from shock.
It was a regular day at Downton Abbey, or rather, as regular as it could get with wounded men being brought in and treated everywhere.
Lady Grantham had detested the idea of bringing strange men into their home, but Cora and Robert had welcomed it. The boys were doing so much for their country, the least they could do was provide them with a place to rest and heal.
Lady Sybil had become a nurse for the time being, volunteering to treat the soldiers. Other doctors had come to work at Downton, and now, the large place was bustling with the injured and the medical aids.
Lord Robert Grantham made his way down the stairs with Isis in close trail, putting his hat on and grabbing his walking stick.
"Good morning, dear!" Cora called from the bedside of a soldier. They each visited with a few people now and then, to keep them in good company.
"Morning!" Robert replied, and opened the door. Isis ran out before Robert could get her leash on, and he chased after her through the grass. "Isis! Here girl!" The white lab sniffed around the property, and bounded back to her master.
"Silly girl," Robert laughed as he rubbed her ears. Just then, he heard the sound of a motorcar pulling up at the gates, rolling over the gravel.
Isis turned and began barking, a sort of signal when there were new people. Robert turned, hooked Isis's leash on, and brought her back inside.
"There's new wounded!" he called to the doctors, who got up and headed for the door. He felt like he was living in a domestic M*A*S*H unit. But he had nothing against it, as fore mentioned; he was happy to help in any way he could, since he was too old now to serve.
The doctors rushed out, and went over to the black motorcar. The doors opened, and revealed five injured men. One was yelling in anguish, one was out cold, and the other two were silently coping with the pain as best they could.
"Okay, get them inside," said Dr. Clarkson, cringing from the messy wounds of the bunch. They lifted the stretchers out of the car, and carried them inside. Luckily, they found a few open beds scattered among the healing men, and quickly laid each of them down.
"Let's take a look at who these boys are," he said, and turned out the pockets of the soldiers. "Lt. Blake…. Sgt. Waters…. Cpt. Nicholls…. Alright, start treating them right away!"
Some nurses came, and each gathered around a man. Captain Nicholls was beginning to wake up, and could feel the pain still shooting up his leg.
Am I… still alive? He wondered to himself.
Judging by the sound of people around him, he came to the conclusion that he was quite alive. He squeezed his eyes shut as the pain heightened, and felt tears form in his sapphire blue eyes. He quickly shut them again; he would not be seen like this, not him, a captain of his rank.
But he gave up trying to hide his stabbing injury, since everyone here was in the same situation; wounded and temporarily rather helpless.
He let out a short breath and wiped the sweat from his hairline, short golden hair combed back not-so-neatly anymore. His bed was rolled to a private wing dedicated to the higher officers, where there were sheets draped in between the beds for privacy. As his bed stopped, the doctors by his side quickly wrapped his middle with a thick layer of gauze, much to his escalating discomfort.
His stomach muscles tensed as the bed finally stopped moving, and he could faintly feel more blood oozing out into the wrap. He clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth in attempt to fight the pain.
He was fading in and out as he saw the shadow of a nurse behind the sheet to his wing, and the woman came over beside his bed.
"Shhh, Captain," she whispered, "Relax now. I'm going to take care of you."
Somehow, her voice reassured him to the point of lulling. Her gentle tone soothed him, and he relaxed against the pillow behind his head. He felt her hand on his forearm, silently telling him that everything was going to be okay.
He opened his eyes just enough to see who this woman was. She had chocolate brown hair tied back behind her white nurse's cap, and eyes a radiating green. Her skin was a creamy colour, and James's lips twitched into a smile.
"I'm Nurse Sybil," she said softly, not wanting to raise her voice and hurt his trauma inflicted ears. "I- I'm James," he said, "James Nicholls." She sat down beside the bed. "You have severe damage to your left oblique muscle, Captain Nicholls, as you were shot through it. If you had been left any longer without blood stopping, you would have most likely died."
He looked at her. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done, and, what you're doing." She smiled, and shook her head. "It is not your duty to thank me. This is what I do, this is what we do, to repay brave men like you who fight for us." James just smiled in return, but was hit with another spasm of pain in his leg.
Sybil's face became worried. "You must sleep now, and rest your muscles. If you need anything, there is always someone around." James nodded another soft thank you, and laid his head to the side.
As Sybil turned away from the captain, she bit her lip. As she blinked, all she could see in her closed eyelids was the reflection of his sea blue eyes, staring back at her. She closed the sheet of his wing, and hurried to the next patient. She scolded herself, and forbade her mind to wander back to the new soldier under their care.
But as hard as she tried, her thoughts kept drifting back to his perfectly sculpted jaw, his masculine hands, the rich golden colour of his hair…
Sybil didn't know it, but James was also thinking about the encounter, and the obvious attraction between them. James tried as well to force the thoughts out of his tired mind, in fear of what it would mean for the young woman in her family… but he also knew feelings like these could not be stopped. He knew this was only the beginning.
And at the back of her mind, so did Sybil.