A/N: sorry for the slow update, not sure how I feel about this chapter but its longer than the others. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy :)

Amy and Tom's relationship seemed to improve after that night. Every breakfast they would sit together. Miles and Kitty would join them as her and Amy were good friends so it didn't look suspicious. They would talk together and laugh. Amy seemed to radiate happiness. If he hadn't seen her that night Miles would have sworn her to be an ordinary happy sister. But he had. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't shake the image of her shaking frame, the scars on her arm. He knew Tom was worried. Not that he showed it to her face; he was smiling and joking then, a side Miles rarely saw. But when she turned away or left his eyes would follow her in a protective gaze. The weeks went by and still Amy had not told him why. There were times he thought she was going to moments they'd ended up in the store room at the same time but they were always interrupted.

Two nights after a practically heavy convoy Miles came across Tom. He was standing alone in the field wielding Miles' golf club. Tom had never shown much interest in the sport but now he was hitting the balls with all his might. As he got closer, about to call out to his friend, he noticed him shaking. He was angry.

"Tom?" Miles said softly so not to scare him.

Tom turned his heard sharply.

"What do you want Miles?" he snapped. Seeing his face Miles could make out tears in his eyes.

"Are you alright? Should I get Amy?" Tom's face instantly told Miles this was a mistake.

"You keep Amelia out of this!" he snapped.

"Okay, okay. But come on what is it? Is it Kitty?"

"No we're fine." He dropped the club which would normally have annoyed Miles but given the circumstance he ignored it.

"Do you remember Private Saunders?" Tom asked. Miles cast his mind back.

"The name rings a bell."

"Footballer, played in the match about a month ago."

"Yeah of course I do." Miles said feeling stupid he had forgotten. Private Saunders was a young lad 18 or 19. Miles remembered him playing their goalie, was good, and wanted to play for England.

"He's dead."

"Oh. Was he in the last Convoy?"

"He died Miles and there was nothing I could do. I became a doctor to help people. But I couldn't save him."

"Tom we can't save everyone." Miles knew losing a patient was an emotional ordeal for Tom, but he had never seen him like this.

"I have a brother, same age. Jaimie, he's fighting."

"I know Amy mentioned it." He decided not to mention he knew Tom had a twin, something told him he shouldn't.

"Well she would, but he wanted to be a footballer, play for England too, and I just thought if it wasn't for this stupid war they might've known each other, who knows they may been have been friends." Miles stared at him there was more to it than that.

"Tom, every kid who can kick a ball wants to play for England. This is a war, there's always going to be casualties you can't save everyone."

"What if I can't save him, like I couldn't save her, Amy needed me and I wasn't there." He was running his hands through his hair pulling at it.

"I don't know what happened-"

"You can probably guess, she got hurt and I wasn't there to protect her."

"It's not your job to."

"He's right." Tom head shot up and Miles turned around. Amy was walking towards them. "I wasn't annoyed because you weren't there; I was annoyed because I thought you had forgotten us. What Joey did was my fault not yours."

Tom's head hung clearly not believing it.

"God damn it Tom!" she snapped, "Never thought I'd agree with a posh snob, but Miles is right-"

"I object to being called a snob," Miles interjected. Amy raised a hand to silence him as she leaned closer to Tom and lowered the tone of her voice.

"He's right, you can't save everyone. But worrying about me and Jaimie won't make you any better at it. We look after our selves. Jaimie's a survivor; we both know that, if any of us were to come out of this war alive it'd be him."

"Don't you see?" Tom said in a small voice. "This is why I didn't write."

She shot him a questioning glace.

"If I write to you or him, then it's real you're in danger-"

"I'm fine,"

"Well Jaimie is then; if I don't write then I can pretend you're safe, both of you. And now I can't because you're here, you're a distraction, why couldn't you have just got married and stayed away from me."

Amy looked taken a back. Clearly the words hurt her.

Miles stood beside her.

"Tom go to sleep." He said no hint of joke in his voice he was showing a rare stern side that not many people saw. But he knew his friend would never speak that way under ordinary circumstances.

Tom stared at him for a moment and then sighed.

"Amy, I'm sorry-"

"Just go." She said weakly in response. Tom nodded and walked away.

Amy stared after him as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't.

"Are you alright?" Miles said touching her arm softly.

She nodded slowly.

"Would you like me to escort you back to your tent?" Miles asked valiantly offering her his arm.

"No, it's fine I might stay out a bit longer." Miles dropped his arm awkwardly.

"Sorry I just thought you'd like to rest as we have early surgery tomorrow."

She raised one eyebrow in a way only some people can achieve.

"You've memorised my schedule?"

"No. I just… we have it together, and you're the nurse that's down-"

He was cut off by her laughing softly. Miles felt himself going red. Why couldn't he have come up with something smooth and dashing to say like he managed with other people? She seemed to have the ability to strip away his charming exterior and see what was beneath. Now wasn't the first time. It had happened on the wards, small comments that embarrassed him in front of the patients or staff. One attempt on his part at small talk in surgery had resulted in a comment that even caused a short laugh from Tom.

"You're funny." Amy said simply.

"What? For a posh snob." Miles slipped out. She smiled at that.

"I'm sorry, it's just I've met men like you before,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The sort that think they're God's gift to women or something." Miles looked at her for a long moment. She looked different off duty. Her apron was removed and her hair was escaping its usual up do causing soft curls to frame her face. Her pale face contrasted with her dark hair and her blues eyes glittered. It was not dark yet but the sun was gone so a summer chill hung in the air causing her cheeks to glow pink.

"What you looking at?" she said interrupting his thoughts. Without think a single word slipped out,

"You."

She raised one eyebrow again and Miles quickly offered her the golf club Tom had discarded.

"Do you play?" Amy silently accepted it. She weighed it in her palms before rolling it over her knuckles so it span in the air then caught it expertly. She carefully dribbled one of the remaining balls over to her and raised the club. It made a familiar whistling before hitting home. The ball shot through the air out of sight.

"Not bad." Miles said clapping once.

"I don't play but I know how to hit them, Golf seems to be a popular sport for the men." Miles nodded.

"You want to now don't you?" Amy said then.

"What?" she rolled up her sleeves showing him the burns on her arms. Small circular disks of white skin. In the light they were barely visible.

"They are burns." Miles said softly running the tips of his fingers over the scared skin.

"Yes." She said softly.

"Did someone do this to you?"

"Yes,"

"Then yes I would like to know."

"I grew up on a rich man's estate. My Mama and Papa worked for him as a cook and blacksmith. Joey was like my Father's apprentice. When he passed away and Tom left he became man of our small house. Tom wrote then, not much but we were thankful. He had a scholarship so we didn't have to worry about money for him. Time went on and I had been studying at the local community school. Joey didn't like that, he wanted me to cook, take over from our mother as she hadn't been the same since Papa's death. When I turned 18 I was offered a place on a nurse training course. It turned out Tom wasn't the only clever one. It got bad then, Jaimie was 13 and couldn't seem to learn anything, he started running away from school, and he wanted Tom. One day he ran in to trouble with the man of the estate. He wasn't nice; he didn't see why he should be allowed to stay with the trouble he was causing. He struck us a deal, well with Joey. He said… he said we could stay on the condition that Jaimie would work for him in the stables. Joey agreed to this, and to another term that I was not aware of. The man of the estate was rich, but it was new money, the family had no status, but he did have a son, recently widowed. He was a disgusting man nearly twice my age and he wanted a wife. He didn't need one of wealth or power, essentially he wanted a whore, pardon my language,"

"Did he do this to you?" Amy shook her head quickly.

"No, but given the chance my bet is he would've. Joey arranged it. He persuaded Mama it was what was best, but I said no. He called me selfish, told me to think of Jaimie, to think of Mama, I still refused, I tried to write to Tom but he would burn my letters before I could send them. And then he would burn me. Branding me he would call it, he said workmen marked their property he said I would never be anything more now, that I would always belong to someone." Amy was shaking so Miles put his hand on her shoulders to steady her.

"What did you do?"

"I went to nursing school, I left. I wrote to my mother, she had no idea what had been happening. I don't know if she got the letter. I wrote to Tom but I couldn't find the words. I told him I was training to become a nurse. I returned a few times but it became too much I wasn't welcome anymore. I finished my training started work in hospital then the war started so I transferred to the field, I hoped I'd find Tom and now I have." Miles stared at her; he had three younger sisters but could never imagine treating any of them as Joey had her.

"Does your mother know now?"

"Yes, I sent her a letter at my first hospital, Joey had already left, she feels bad, but there's nothing she could have done." She looked awkwardly at him as if waiting for him to say something, but he couldn't find the words, and so she walked away.