It was late at night, or early in the morning as some may classify it, and James was having another nightmare. It had been 3 days since he had been taken into care at Downton, and every single night, he had had ritualistic dreams of the close call on the battlefield that landed him here.

He woke up in a cold sweat, hair matted against his forehead. He felt sharp pains down his side, and knew he would have to change the bandage before it was completely soiled. It was exactly 2:39 in the morning, and there were no nurses on duty. I don't need assistance, James thought to himself as he pulled back his covers to check his wound, I'm perfectly capable.

The fire illuminated his sight just enough to see what he was doing. He grimaced at the sight of fresh blood seeping through his binding, but just unravelled it like he knew exactly what he was doing. He tried not to cry out in fear of waking other peacefully sleeping patients, so he bit his tongue as the older, dried blood clung to the bandage. He second guessed himself. Maybe he shouldn't take it off. I mean, what would he do, apply a new one?

He sighed. He'd seen it done by other nurses, so surely he could do it himself, and wouldn't have to bother anyone about it. He gently tore the bandage free, and had to grip the side of the bed tightly to hold back a groan. Suddenly, he heard someone descending down the stairs, and quickly looked up.

It was Sybil, and she still had her nurse uniform on. She noticed that he was awake, and came over. "Why are you still awake?" He asked her, brows knitting. She raised an eyebrow as she sat beside him. "I could ask the same of you," she chuckled, and he smiled. "I just… find it troublesome to go a night without having upsetting dreams." Her smile disappeared. "What about?" He shifted uncomfortably, and she immediately apologized. "I'm so sorry, sir. It wasn't my place-"

James quickly reassured her. "No, no. It's just my damn leg. No, I don't mind. My nightmares are about my near-death experience a few days ago." Sybil looked at him. "A reasonable subject of upset." He laughed quietly. "Yes, I suppose so. I just can't help thinking… what if the bullet had hit its target? What if this had been fatal? And even worse… what if it still could be fatal?"

"Now, don't you dare think like that, Captain. We'll let nothing happen to you. I'll let nothing happen to you." James melted at the sincerity of her words, and the worry disappeared for a moment. "Please," he whispered, "Call me James." She gave a small smile. "Alright… Captain."

He chuckled, and she looked down at his leg. "Have you been tampering around with your bandage?!" He looked at her sheepishly, and she sighed playfully. "What do you think you are, a self-professed doctor? You seem like the kind of man who refuses to accept help unless it is life-threateningly needed!" James smiled. "It seems you've got me spot-on."

"Well, there'll be no more of that here. Make sure you call me when you need a change of bandage, or anything of the sort." James nodded slowly, and thanked her graciously. She got a cool cloth, and softly dabbed it along his forehead, drying his sweat. She felt sympathy toward him, and his whole situation. She could tell it pained him to be so helpless, that he wasn't used to it.

She competently changed his bandage, and pulled the blanket over him again. "Try not to think of anything, Captain," she said quietly as he laid back down against the pillow, "Just go to sleep."

He nodded, and thanked her once again. But as she left and he closed his eyes, he was thinking of something. The astonishing fact that this beautiful, kind woman had bewitched his heart, and in such little time.

The next day was just as brilliantly sunny as the past few. It seemed that they were getting a spree of good weather, seeing as it was only late April. Sybil woke to the familiar sound of sparrows tweeting outside, and got out of bed to open the curtains. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she smiled, and Cora came through the big doors. "Oh, Mama! Gorgeous day, isn't it?" Sybil asked, and Cora nodded as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Any new soldiers today?" she asked. "No, but the ones we do have are a handful," Cora answered.

"Why do you say that?" "Well, they are quite talkative. Your sister has taken to visiting some of them, to keep them company." "Who, Mary?" "No, Edith. She likes one in particular, this… Lt. Waverly." Sybil breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't James who her sister had taken such interest in.

"But the wounds are getting worse as the war goes on," her mother said thoughtfully, "Have you seen them? And that Captain Nicholls-" Sybil's head shot up at the mention of him, "He's got quite a nasty one. Looks like he'll be here for a while." Sybil nodded slowly, "Yes."

Downstairs, James was occupying himself with a book out of the small pile that had been provided for entertainment. He was quite fond of gothic ghost stories, and was presently engulfed in "The Turn of the Screw."

"It's a good book, isn't it?" A voice said from behind the curtain. James looked up and smiled as he recognized the voice. "It is." Sybil pulled the curtain back and sat on James bed as she had grown to enjoy. "How is your leg feeling?" "It still hurts quite a lot." "Of course. Sorry, that was a silly question." He took a deep breath, and put his hand on top of hers.

"Nothing you say is silly, Miss Sybil." She blushed deeply and turned away. "I'll leave you t-to, um, read then, Captain," she said, nervous and smiling at his touch. She got up, and gave him one last smile before she left. James bit his lip. Does she feel the same about me? he wondered. Am I making a fool of myself?

The day was spent regularly, nurses tending to patients, Robert reading the paper and Cora sipping tea, Lady Mary occasionally dropping by to see what was happening with the soldiers.

As quickly as it had gone, night came again, and James was dreading it. He was tired, and dark circles had begun to form under his eyes from lack of sleep. It was the nightmares keeping him up, he couldn't shake them. The only light in his life, he thought, was the privilege of seeing Lady Sybil every day, and talking with her.

Sybil was growing worried about James. He looked awfully exhausted, and his leg wasn't healing very well. She wished there was something more she could do for the kind man, who had shown her so much affection…

She clenched her jaw at the thought. She must be mistaken. It was simply the fancies of her own imagination that were tricking her to believe he felt for her. But why did he look at her that way, then?

It was late evening when Sybil came for another visit, and all the other nurses had gone to bed. James had finished the book, and had moved on to the next. "Good evening, Captain," she said, and went to change his blankets. "Good evening, Miss Sybil." There was a silence then, which was unusual for them.

"I have something I need…. I need to tell you something," James said, voice cracking slightly at the end. She turned slowly, and sat. "Yes?"

James studied her features, the way her eyebrows curved softly, her lips rosy in the firelight. "I…" Instead of finishing his sentence, he gave in to an overwhelming urge against all of his better judgement, and leaned in and kissed her. Her eyes widened, and everything went rushing through her mind. She worried that someone was watching, that James would be sent away, at how wrong what they were doing was… but the thing that scared her the most was the frighteningly scandalous thoughts she was getting about James, of him holding her as they kissed like this….

She broke away from the kiss roughly, at a loss for words. "I… I should go now," she whispered, and quickly got up and left James in a swirl of love, lust, and strong guilty feelings.

Sybil hurried up the stairs, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She had never felt like this before, about anyone. But it wasn't right! What she just did was incredibly improper, and her head was spinning from it. But she still felt something from it. Her own feelings frustrated her. She didn't know what to think, what to feel…

James was reeling downstairs, surprised beyond belief at his inappropriate act, and extremely guilty at what he had just gotten Sybil into. He cursed himself for not containing his lewd behavior, and squeezed his eyes shut. What would happen now?

Thoughts floated around like petals in a whirlpool that night, and Sybil was up pacing in her room. She was sure that hers was the only light left on, but she was unable to sleep due to her internal conflict. She knew she loved him. It was undeniable. And now, it was quite evident that James loved her too. How could such a scandalous situation have come about in the length of one night?

The temperature in her room felt unnaturally high, and she fanned herself with her hand.

Suddenly, she heard a cry from downstairs. Immediately, thoughts of the worst came to her, and she grabbed her white uniform to cover her sleeping garments. She rushed down the stairs, and to her horror, she found James writhing in his bed, curtains pulled.

"What is it? What is it?" Sybil breathed, running to his side. Blood was all over the covers and bed, and he was covered in sweat. "James?" her voice wavered as she watched him grit his teeth and suppress screams of agony. She checked him, and realized his wounds were bleeding internally, and the whole wounded side of his body from his oblique to his knee was bruised under the skin. This is what she had feared might happen, and she began frantically preparing something for it.

"S-Sybil?" he hoarsely whispered, "I c-can't feel my leg!"