A/N Another chapter, I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think :)

Gasping into the air, the pain was horrendous as sweat covered my body; causing wisps of my brown hair to cling to my face. Groaning, my fingers clutched the bedsheets in a vice like grip as I squeezed my eyes shut. It's been almost nine hours and the sun had risen long ago; the heat coming from the bedroom window doing little to comfort me "How much longer does she have to wait?" asked Dita as she sat on the side of the bed.

Wringing a wet wash cloth in the small bowel she had procured, Dita wiped away at my forehead; trying to cool me down "As long as it takes" replied the soldier as he sat in the corner of the room. He had relocated one of the kitchen chairs a few hours ago.

"It's been hours…look at her, she's in pain" spoke Dita as she frowned down at me with pity in her eyes "please. Can't you do something – anything?" she begged.

"She still has three hours to go"

"And it's been nine since her water broke" defended Dita with a scolding tone "barley anything has happened in those hours…aren't you the least concerned?" feeling the burn of the contractions as it seared my abdomen and pelvis, my body ached from the quick changes that were happening. Trying to control my breathing, I wish I could make it all stop. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, that it was going to be painful, but never in my life did I imagine it to be this excruciating – and I wasn't even giving birth yet, these were just contractions.

Sighing, the soldier looked me up and down with a slight tilt of his head. Uncrossing his arms, he got up off the chair and left the room. Clenching the sheets, I turned to Dita "Where is he going?" but before she could answer, the soldier had come back into the room. Walking around the bed, he sat on my right; opposite to Dita. Holding up a needle, I immediately tensed at the site of the object "What are you doing?!" I screeched with a shift to the left.

"Calm down..." spoke the soldier as he flicked the syringe; a bead of clear fluid leaking from the metal tip. Shifting forward, he grabbed my arm in a tight grip. Holding it straight out, he pointed the end of the needle above the crevice of my arm. Wincing, he pierced it through the skin and into my vein. Watching him empty the syringe of fluid, he then took it out and got up.

"What was that?" asked Dita curiously.

"Oxytocin" replied the soldier "it speeds up the contractions. It's going to hurt"

"Hurt? I asked you to help her" stressed Dita as she casted a glare in his direction.

"And I did" snapped the soldier. He was clearly getting irritated by the demanding and annoying presence of Dita "all she has to do is wait another hour, then she can start pushing" retrieving a device from his back pocket, it was small and black. Pressing a few buttons, he hooked it onto his utility belt.

Feeling the bed shift as Dita now stood up, she grabbed the bowel "I'll change the water and get more towels" she announced before leaving. Sighing, I knew it was rude after all she's doing for me, but I was glad she was gone. Her constant nagging and worrying was only making me feel more anxious and stressed.

"How are you feeling?" came the lowered voice of the soldier. He had yet to move from my side.

"I've felt better…" I replied with a faint smile before a sudden contraction hit me, making me groan and grit my teeth. Feeling the bed dip once again from the right side, I felt the soldier lift me up before quickly sitting behind me. Now situated between his legs, he pulled me up so that my back rested against his chest for support "why did you do that?" I asked, taken aback by his actions. He never usually wanted be this close to me or anyone else.

Hearing nothing but silence, the soldier didn't respond to my question but instead asked a new one "Do you remember the day you asked me my name?"

Furrowing my brow, I didn't turn to look at him, but slowly I nodded. His question was out of blue, but I was intrigued as to why he would bring it up "Yes, I do…you told me you didn't remember?"

"I lied…" he confessed, his voice light. Sitting so close to him I could feel his warmth, and the hot brush of air of his breath graze over my right ear.

"I know…" I already knew that he had lied to me that day. I could see it in his eyes "but it's okay, you don't have to-"

"It's James…" he suddenly added, cutting me off mid-sentence. Somewhat shocked at the reveal, I had almost forgot about everything going on around me. All this time I've been calling him soldier – a name that was distant and cold. But now here it was, his real name. A name that made him human.

"It's a nice name – James…I like it" imagining his face the time he had shown me, I realised that it suited him in a way. Slightly smiling, Dita had soon come back into the room with a fresh bowel of water and some towels. Sitting on the chair in the corner, she hadn't come back to my side; probably on account of the soldier.

Closing my eyes, I tried to block out the noises surrounding me. Everything from the birds, the wind, and even my own breathing. But as time ticked by, I found the soldier true to his words. My contractions were almost bordering on violent; even forcing a few tears from my eyes. They were so much stronger than before and more frequent.

Whimpering and lightly moaning out of agony, my legs were still bent but my knees touched. Swaying ever so slightly, the motion was comfort to me; much better than remaining completely still. Whining as another contraction shook me to my core, I instinctively clutched the closest thing – which happened to be the soldier left hand, the one made of metal. Squeezing tight, he didn't say a word or try to pull away.

Once the pain had slightly ebbed away, a new sensation quickly followed and it was most unusual. I could feel my body 'squeezing', and I then knew what was happening "I need to push" I announced.

Feeling the soldier shift beneath me, he retrieved the small black device he had been looking at earlier, before agreeing "Alright..." watching Dita get up from the chair, she made her way over to the end of the bed. The soldier didn't move from underneath me as Dita set my legs further apart and placed another towel over my lap; shielding my view from the gruesome sight below. I was glad.

Yelping as I felt two fingers being inserted, I squeezed the soldiers hand again "She's dilated, and I can feel the head…" she announced. Taking her fingers out, Dita looked up at me "on the count of five…you're going to do a big push" nodding my head, I kept my hold on the soldiers hand "ready – one, two, three, four, five. Push!"

Stiffening my body, I screamed as I pushed as hard as I could. Feeling the baby shift inside of my belly, my body was slowly starting to stretch in order to make way for the infant inside "Again! Push!" repeating the process over and over, I was starting to feel exhausted "alright…I can see its head"

"…I can't…" I choked out. I was becoming exhausted. I felt as if I were ripping into two. The pain was like nothing I had ever experienced, it was unbearable "Please…make it stop" letting out another loud groan, I gulped to feel my throat had gone dry "please…it hurts. Make it stop" I begged wanting relief.

Squeezing tightly to the soldiers hands, I leaned back against the warmth of his chest. It was the only comfort I could find in a time like this. The only person who could keep me going. As long as he was close, that's all I needed to know everything would be okay. That I will get through this. That this pain would all be worth it.

"I know…" he said leaning down to whisper in my ear. Feeling his right hand come to my face, I breathed in and out as he wiped away the dampness on my forehead. I was both grubby and sweaty, and the place we now sat in was no better "I know it hurts…but you have to keep pushing" he ordered sternly.

Shaking my head, I looked down to my large, round stomach as my legs stood perched and bent in front of me "I can't…" feeling another gruelling contraction, I let out another scream. I wanted this to be over. Why couldn't this be over?

Feeling him hush me in a calm tone, he continued to encourage me "Come on…push" he said as I squeezed his metal hand as tight as I could "…you're almost there…push" sucking in another breath, I groaned as I did what he instructed. Using my muscles, I pushed as hard as I could. Taking laboured breaths, I could feel that he was right. I was nearly there "that's it…good girl" he praised.

Tightening my grip like a vice, I gave one last effort before I felt a sudden emptiness. It was over. Feeling the soldier shift behind me, I leaned against the dirtied wall instead for support. Closing and opening my eyes, I looked down "…James…" I called drowsy and exhausted from the long ordeal; so much so that I hadn't realised I had used his name "…James…why can't I hear it? Why isn't it crying?" I asked, feeling my body slowly starting to panic. I had just realised, that even after giving birth, I had yet to hear the baby cry. What was wrong?

Staring at him as he crouched and pulled the new born away, I watched as he wrapped the silent infant into a piece fabric. Dita now stood far back, her head lowered "She's beautiful" whispering I could barely hear him as he cradled the bundle in his arms. It's a girl. A beautiful baby girl.

"Let me see" looking as James' gaze snapped from his arms to me, I noticed his steel eyes had gone hazy and clouded. Slowly making his way over to me, he gently passed the baby down. Nestling the girl in my arms, I looked down with tears in my eyes as I gazed at the pale blue face. Her eyes were closed, and her chest was still. The little girl wasn't crying, because she was already gone.

Gone before I could even see the colour of her eyes.

Lying on the bed with my legs shut and slightly twisted to the side, the stench of blood continued to cloud the air around me. I hadn't moved from this spot since the birth, three hours ago. The wet towels felt terrible underneath me, and the stickiness of the blood and fluid between my legs was uncomfortable, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore, because I felt numb from the pain – the loss.

For three hours I had lain here, crying an endless stream of tears. My face and body ached, and the sobs continued to rake me. Sniffling, I wiped my cheeks for the hundredth time. Staring through the window, the afternoon was coming; the sky starting to turn different colours.

Left alone in the room, Dita and the soldier had left; taking the baby with them. I don't know what they were doing, probably sitting outside in the living room; waiting for me to surface. I did hear a few hushed words being exchanged an hour or so ago, but I didn't care to listen – what they had to say was of no interest to me. Brushing my fingers through the small crevices of the bed sheet, the fabric felt soft along my skin.

I wondered what her skin would have felt like, if it wasn't so cold and stiff. Imagine it would have been soft and glowing, especially when she grew up. She would have been so beautiful. A fine young woman who would flourish. But now I would never know. Sniffling again, I could feel the soldiers gaze as he looked at me from the bedroom door way. He didn't say a word as he walked forward and sat on the left side of the bed; his back faced to me.

"I don't know what I did…" my voice was light, and croaky from the crying and screaming.

"You didn't do anything…" replied the soldier "it just – wasn't supposed to happen" after a moment he shifted his torso to look at me. Not turning to face him, he added "what happened isn't your fault…"

"Then who's was it?" if not me. This doesn't happen without a reason. You don't lose a baby 'just because'. Something had to of gone wrong. Someone has to be the blame. So why not me?

"The people who did this to you..." replied the soldier "the doctors, the soldiers – me. They're responsible for everything; for why you're here, why you feel the way you do. They've turned your life upside down" said the soldier, his voice firm but still gentle.

"So I should hate you…is that what you're saying?" I asked with a sniffle, my face tight and my voice hollow "…you raped me…and did nothing about it. You didn't object or try to stop it. You never once said no. I should hate you. I should have killed you…"

"Then why didn't you?" he asked after a brief pause "you have every reason to"

"…I don't know…" I whispered. I'm confused "…because you've done more to help me that you have to hurt me – because you're all I have left…nothing is ever going to be like it was. I won't ever find my family. I won't ever be the happy little girl that I used to be" turning to face him, I reached out and placed my hand over his. Feeling the warmth of his skin as my fingers tucked underneath, he responded by linking our fingers together "…I don't want you to leave…"

Stiffening, I could see he was court off guard by what I had said "You know?" he asked, his gaze still on me as the black mask continued to adorn his face.

"Yes..." I replied "I know everything. I heard you that night – what you're planning to do"

"Why didn't you say anything? Why leave it until now?"

"What would be the point?" I replied, the tears abating for now so that I could speak plainly "I knew I couldn't change your mind"

"And you think you can now?" he questioned unenthusiastically. Nodding my head, he looked away before retrieving his hand. Feeling the pang of rejection, I drew back my own. How could he be so cold? As if I haven't been through enough already.

Facing away from me, the soldier still sat on the edge of the bed; hands gripping either side of the mattress for support. Peering down at the floor between his legs, I knew he was in deep thought as he sighed. Getting up in one fluent motion, he walked toward the door before pausing "Dita will help you clean…and then we're going to bury our daughter"

Not waiting for an answer, the soldier left the room and Dita soon walked in. Clutching the sheets, I squeezed as hard as I could to vent the anger in my body; my knuckled turning white from force. Taking a deep breath in as Dita came to my side, the old woman had a solemn look on her face as she helped me sit up "Let's get you cleaned…"

Guided into the bathroom, Dita had drawn me a bath. Sitting in the lukewarm water, she helped scrub my sweaty brown hair so that it now smelt like raspberries. Washing my body, my abdomen and muscles hurt with an aching and searing pain, but I ignored it. After cleaning the rest of my body, I got out with Dita's helped and dried myself off. Half an hour had passed, and as I got dressed into fresh clothes and made my way outside; the sun on the horizon was starting to set with a pink and yellow glow.

Holding a hand up to shield my eyes from the rays of the afternoon sun, I found the soldier a few meters away under a large, thick and branched out tree; he had dug a small whole near the trunk, and he stood waiting with a bundle wrapped in towel in his arms. I knew exactly what it was, and a wave of emotions came crashing into me. I wanted to run away. I didn't want to go over there and see the baby again. I just wanted to cry – but that's not what I needed to do. I needed to be strong, for once in my life.

Standing beside me, Dita waited. I'm glad she didn't move to comfort me, or try to give me warming words. I'm glad she knew to just give me space. Taking another step in the direction of the tree, we made our way over. Looking up, the soldier glanced at me as I now stood a few steps away "Are you ready?" he asked calmly.

Taking a final step, I hadn't realised that I had reached out to touch the towel covered bundle until I felt the rough fabric under the pads of my fingertips. Shocked at my action, I thought about withdrawing my hand, but I didn't. Instead, I caressed the round top that would have been the baby's head before silently stepping away.

"I'm ready"

Holding in the sobs that threatened to spill, I held my hands in my lap as I watched the soldier place the bundle in the small hole he had dug. Thinking about it, the place where he had decided to be her final resting place was quite beautiful – right under the tree, with small beams of sun shining through the leaves. I couldn't of have asked for a better place.

Grabbing the shovel, the soldier started to empty back the small mound of dirt over the top; and with each bit of dirt, I felt equal parts pain and peace. I know she's in a better place now, but I suffer with the fact that her time here was brief. After the last bit of dirt had been placed, all three of us stood in a moment of silence; the wind brushing past us as the sun continued to lower, and soon it was time to head back into the house

The hours of the night had gone much too long for my liking. None of us spoke to each other; not that we had much to say. But because of the lack of communication and noise, the house had been filled with the silence of mourning. Bidding goodnight to everyone at seven O'clock, I had gone to bed with the thought of the soldier plaguing my mind, and I hoped deep down that he wouldn't leave. That he would indeed stay.

Drifting off to sleep, it was well into the night when I was soon awoken by a sense of someone's presence hovering over me. But when I opened my eyes, I saw no one. Did he come in? Has he left? With the last thought, I carefully climbed out of the bed and walked out into the living room. A few oil lamps had been left alight in the living room as I looked left and right, trying to search for any sign of the soldier – but he along with all of his belongings were nowhere in sight.

My heart instantly started to pound as I ran to the window to look outside. He must of just have left as he had taken only a few paces across the front yard. Pulling open the front door, the chilling night air was freezing against my skin as I quickly went down the few steps of the porch to catch up; the moonlight being my only source to guide me to him.

Stopping at the sound of me, the soldier had turned around with the green duffel bag in hand. However as I finally stopped in front of him and looked up, I realised he wasn't wearing his mask. I could see his face "What are you doing out of bed?" he asked with a puff of cold smoke from the air, and his brows drawn together.

"I woke up and you were gone…" I said with a shutter of my teeth. Standing in a long cotton night gown, my arms were bare as I hugged them close to my chest; rubbing them for warmth "you can't leave me"

"You should go back inside Amelia, it's too cold out here" he said, ignoring my words before turning around to start walking again. Stepping forward I didn't know what to do to make him stop, so I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him from behind. He was oddly warm despite the cold weather.

"Please just stop…stop trying to leave me" I said with my cheek pressed against his back "come back inside" squeezing my arms tighter, I heard him sigh before dropping the duffel bag. Feeling his hands pry mine away, he turned around; my wrists in his grip.

"Go back inside" he ordered.

"I will if you promise to stay" I replied while looking up at him. Letting go of me, he reached out to brush a piece of my wind blow hair out of the way.

"You know I can't stay, but I'm not leaving you alone. Dita's promised to look after you. You'll be safe with her. Just don't do anything stupid, and do as she say's alright" feeling the familiar hiccup of arising sobs, I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Moving his hand to rest on my shoulder, I looked down as a gloved finger brushed away the stray tear "stop crying" he said quietly before pulling me into his chest.

Wrapping my arms around his waist again, I buried my head into the black fabric of his military uniform "I won't see you again. I'll never know where you are, or what you're doing…you'll forget me won't you?" I sniffled as his arms circled around me.

"No…" he replied as I felt him lean forward to press his lips to my forehead "I promise I won't forget" standing still, I continued to hug him. But my time was cut short when he eventually tugged on me to let go. Hesitantly pulling away, he held me at arm's length "now you have to make me a promise…"

Staring into his eyes, I nodded "What is it?"

"You have to turn around, and go back inside the house. And you have to promise me, you won't come out…can you do that for me?" feeling my lips part slightly, I wanted to object and tell him no, but instead I took a deep breath and nodded. Pausing, the soldier took his hands away from my shoulders and I slowly turned around.

Not looking back I kept my eyes straight ahead, and every step I took made it that much harder not to cry. I wanted to fall to the ground and burst into tears, but instead I held it all in and I kept walking. The cold wind burnt my cheeks and chilled me to the core, and goose bumps rose on my skin like prickles. Butterflies circled my stomach and already I felt lost and afraid. Soon the feeling of the wooden porch steps were rough under my bare feet, and it wasn't until I opened the front door and took a step inside, that I had turned around – and as I stared into the darkness, he was already gone.

THE END