Whoa, haven't updated in a long time XD Sorry, I have a lot of thigns going right now so Updates will be far between.

This chapter was a little hard to write...but its still okay. Please Read and review!!

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Caroline clambered out of the boat, almost slipping on the slushy snow. The stuff was still falling from the gray skies when they landed at shore about five minutes after leaving the ship; leaving to try and stop him from doing this thing.

But were they to late?

Horatio slipped on the stuff and Caroline had to catch him so that he didn't get his clothes any more soaking wet then they already were. He didn't have time for a 'thank you' instead he slid to his feet and ran ahead of her, frantic to find their friend; she was frantic also, but the cold reality was slowly seeping up on her like water leaking into a frigate.

Clayton wouldn't be coming back.

And Archie? He had gone with him, did he not? Oh God, she couldn't live if she lost both of them. If the almighty didn't take her himself, she'd kill herself. What else was there to live for if they were gone?

Running, Caroline kept a hand on her hat to keep it was flying off, and she was so keen on this that she almost crashed into the stationery Horatio. He was just standing in the middle of the street, looking around, face white. As if Clayton would just pop out of a building and give a cheery hello.

"Horatio--" She began, trying to tell him to slow down. Her heart was pounding, just like his, but going crazy wasn't going to help them-or their friends.

But he didn't give a damn to anything she said, instead he drop off into a run towards an inn; the sign above the old door read Lambs Inn. It was a tall, old brick building with stone steps leading to the entrance and dirty, green shutters hanging from the windows. At first, she didn't see what had summoned Horatio to this dump, but when she saw what he did, she dashed inside after him.

Jack Simpson was sitting by the window.

Alive.

Which is not dead.

The inside of the Inn smelled like drink and cigar smoke, but Caroline hardly noticed. All she saw was Jack Simpson sitting-alive-on top of a small stool. A white, blood spotted bandage around his shoulder, and Heather and Cleveland dressing it.

They're helping him?

"Oh.." Simpson scoffed when he saw her, "..come to try and get that puke, eh?" He started to chuckle, and Caroline's lip started to quiver-Oh god. Oh god please. If anyone, please don't take Clayton; take Jack, please god take Jack. Send him to hell for me-but please don't take Clayton. I'm sorry to wish someone damned, but please-damn Jack.

Then she turned, and saw Horatio disappear up a set of stairs that stood right behind Simpson. Caroline, feelings unusually brave, shoved past the man and marched to the stairs. As she ran up them, she heard Jack yell after her,

"I'll get you when we get back to the ship you..."

She didn't want to hear the rest-thanks, Jack, but she already knew how to swear.

What she didn't know is how to react when she saw what was lying in a bed upstairs.

No..this isn't happening...

The room was small, the door just barely made it past the bed when it was opened. Against the wall to her left was a row of windows that looked out upon the busy street. Almost directly in front of her was a small bed, a stool was next to it in which Dr. Hepplewhite sat, looking at her wearily, and back at Clayton.

Who was lying in the bed, a bloody bandage across his stomach, gasping for the next breath to fill his failing lung and blood frothing at his mouth with every breathe he was able to muster.

Oh god, not the stomach.

This was every persons-and their friends and families-nightmare. For some, when they were shot, there was a numb and a stinging sensation, and they'd be left lying on the ground, tearing though their cloths trying to find a hole; the whole time praying,

God, not my stomach. I can live without a leg or arm, but not my stomach. To many have died; let it be a leg, Jesus, please.

For others, there was the mind bending pain that made them scream; the cracking of a shoulder blade or the snapping off of a leg bone. The tearing of skin as a ball-or other projectiles-ripping into their face and disfigured them for life.

But one thing was universal-no the stomach.

Clayton was hit in the stomach.

She couldn't breath for a second, just look over at Archie and watch him slowly shake his head; his hat was held in his right hand, for respects sake. The look in his eyes that said, 'I'm sorry' made her want to just sit down and have a good cry as her world crumbled. Every time Simpson did..that thing...to her, he was removing bricks from her kingdom. But as she stared at her friends dying body, she could almost feeling her kingdom starting to avalanche.

"What's...going on?" Caroline over at Clayton as she heard him speak, it was then that she realized the commotion going on outside. Church bells were ringing, people were yelling, solders were marching loudly and officers yelling orders.

Horatio look at the window, "I don't know; Archie, go see if you can't quiet them."

Archie nodded, placing his had back upon his head, then he turned to leave. Caroline followed, wanting to keep an eye on him just 'encase', but she gave one last look on her dying friend lying on the bed.

Down stairs, Jack was still sitting on the stool, Heather and Cleveland were at the counter getting a drink. She wanted to go and hit them.

"Oooh look here" Jack spoke as though he was drunk, "Is the bastard dead yet?"

Archie was already out the door, but Caroline stalled, hand on the knob, her voice was low and if you will-threatening,

"Damn you to hell"

()()()()()()

Outside was chaotic, people running around, children screaming and soldiers marching. The church bells seemed to come from every direction; slamming and echoing from every corner of the city. Caroline pulled her coat up higher to try and conserve warmth in this frigid weather; Archie was already looking around like he was crazed. She would have found it funny if a certain someone wasn't dying in the building behind her.

The air outside smelled of cold, animal waste, and dirt. They scents hung heavily in the air like a fog, someone of a higher class would have been gagging at the smell, but Caroline having lived with this for a year or so, was pretty much used to it.

"What do you thinks going on?" Archie asked her, looking back and forth across the street.

"I don't know, "She answered, walking up next to him and crossing her arms, "something big, certainly"

But Archie wasn't listening to her, he was over by the corner, buying a paper from a young boy. The lad was staring with awe a a small coin that he held in his hand, she could see it shining from where she stood. Oh hell.

"What's it say?" She asked, running up to him, trying to keep her hat on her head. The young man had a smile playing on his face, his eyes twinkling; then he looked up at her, his voice edging with excitement,

"Look!"

And look she did, holding the stocky paper in her hands she stared with wide eyes at the headline.

WAR!

As soon as she read the headline, Archie grabbed the paper back and ran over to the Inn, where Horatio now stood outside of. The look on his face only sent the message that Caroline feared, but knew would happen,

"He dead." Archie stated happily, smiling wildly at his gloomy friend. Caroline, knowing both sides, couldn't help but smile at the irony of it all.

"Yes" Horatio replied solemnly, looking at Archie a bit outraged at him being excited with the death of Henry Arthur Clayton II.

Archie laughed a little, eyes still twinkling, "No Not Clayton, you fool: Louis. The Frogs have murdered their King; tried and excited for crimes against the people. It means war Horatio, don't you understand?" He said the last three words as if in a breath, "it means war."

From the look on Horatio face, his world must have stalled: War? Like the War with guns and death?

Yes, Horatio, the kind when people die and you have trouble sleeping at night from the screams from the sick berth.

Not that she knew what War was like, she'd never really been in one. But she knew what pain was, what battle was; if not form ship, she knew what it was like to be beaten, to crawl into bed missing a tooth, to wake up to a drunk man in your house. To hear your mother screaming for him to leave and never come back; just take the money and go. To see your best friend stare at you with fear and start to cry, to here him screaming and watch him convulsing on the floor and not knowing what to do.

And watching your best friend die a useless death; being entirely to expendable.

She'd never been in a war, but she guessed that all those things were war, and put together they'd make a bloody mess.

"Caroline? Caroline?" Archie hand was on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. She blinked, looking up at him,

"Yes?"

He smiled gently, "Come along, we're going back to the ship"

She nodded, then walked back to the docks with Archie's hand over her shoulder, and with a hole in her heart.

()()()(

By the time that they reached the ship, the News had spread like wild fire of the War that was finally here. The sailors seemed to act with a special click to their work, like they had new strengh in them and were giving it all they had to 'beat the bloody frogs'. No one knew of the sacrifice that was made that day, the death that saved a brother in arms. No one knew, and it made Caroline's heart ache and made her want to scream it out from the mast.

The one highlight though was that Simpson would be out of commission for a couple months, seems that bullet in his shoulder had done a good bit of damage. Aw, to bad for him.

That night, Caroline found herself lying in her hammock as it drifted left and right with the gentle swing of the ship. Her right hand hanging aimlessly off the side and her left hand behind her head; she couldn't possibly find sleep, impossible fantasy for her to close her eyes and sleep soundly. And even if she did sleep, she'd have a nightmare, she knew it.

Just then, something caught Caroline's ears, she perked up. Was that crying? The girl sailor sat up in her hammock, and listened; someone was crying, she could hear the stifled sobs drift softly through the berth.

It was Horatio, curling up in his hammock, blanket over his head and trying not to cry; just like she did almost every night.

"Horatio" She said quietly, then swinging her legs over the hammock and onto the cold floor. Trying not to wake anyone, she tip toed across the floor and under Heathers hammock to reach Horatio, but she almost crashed into the pole when the ship suddenly heaved.

"Horatio, are you alright?" She asked, kneeling down by his hammock and trying to see him.

He stopped crying for a moment, "No"

"What's wrong?" That's a stupid question.

"Its my fault" He started to cry again.

Caroline sigh"Horatio...I-I'm sorry--".

"It was my fault" He said abruptly, his voice suddenly stronger.

She pleaded, adjusting her knees, "No Horatio, don't say that, it wasn't"

"Yes it was...if-if-"

"Horatio, don't say that don't!' She begged, trying to keep her voice quiet and trying to act strong, "Listen to me, it wasn't. Do you know why he did it? it was because he was your friend he knew that if you dueled with Simpson he would have killed you" She paused "He did it because you were his friend, Horatio."

God. I sound very smart.

She heart Horatio's sobs start to quiet, and for the next five minutes, she sat there and held his hand tightly. Both of them wishing that this day never existed. And Caroline partly wishing that she never existed either.

"Caroline?" That was Archie, she turned around,

"Yes?"

"Its time for our watch" His voice was quiet, and he almost mouthed the words; but she knew what he as saying.

"Horatio? Horatio?" She whispered; he was asleep. So she gently let go of his hand and stood to her feet, looking down at her friends sleeping form.

I wasn't going to sleep tonight anyway.