Disclaimers: Although I wish I were the creative genius behind John's and Robert's character, they belong to Julian Fellowes. I'm sorry for the time I'm taking to write this story. I've been getting the blank page syndrome lately, but here is a new chapter!

Thank you for sticking with me!

Thank you for your reviews, they are highly appreciated!

June 1901

Soft singing voices were filling the room around him. The last rays of the sun were coming through the slight cracks in the walls. Robert slowly opened his eyes and closed them straight away. Once his eyes adjusted to the luminosity around him he finally located the singing voices. They were coming from the next room. He was lying in his undershirt on a straw bed. Around him, simple furniture was made of wood and fabric. His mouth and throat were so dry he couldn't even make a noise. He sat slowly, his body aching after all the walking he had done… Bates, he thought. Where was he? Was he alright? Well, in fact, where were they?

Footsteps approached and a black boy entered the room. He stopped in his steps when he saw Robert wasn't asleep anymore. He seemed a bit scared, not knowing what to do.

"Hey," Robert finally managed to say. His raspy voice made the child move backwards. "No, don't be scared." But he realised the boy didn't understand English. "Water" Robert tried, mimicking the action of drinking. The boy nodded and left the room.

Robert sat more upright, stretching his painful limbs and waited.

The boy came back with a cup of water. A young man was following him and waited for the boy to leave before gesturing towards the cup the boy had just placed in his hands.

"Drink," the young man instructed him with a strong accent.

Robert did as he was told. The fresh liquid running down his throat was like heaven. Once he finished he put the cup on the floor next to him.

"Do you speak English?" Robert asked.

"My name is Akhona. My people speak Xhosa, but I learned English when I was working for the British Empire at the beginning of your war."

"Thank you, Akhona. I'm Captain Crawley. Where is Bates?" Robert asked worriedly. "Is he alright?"

"Your friend is in our healer's hands. He is giving him medicinal herbs and chanting to the spirits asking for their clemency. I'm afraid your friend was bitten by a very poisonous spider. We have seen cases of it before, though not that advanced."

Robert looked him in the eyes.

"May I see him, please?"

Akhona pondered a few seconds before nodding.

"He's still unconscious. We have managed to calm down his breathing but his fever is still very strong…"

Robert tried to stand up and the young man helped him. He thanked him with a nod and he showed him to the next room. The singing had stopped. Words had been spread that the stranger had awoken and people were gathered at the door to get a look at the white man they had rescued. Akona said something in their language and then turned to Robert.

"Don't mind them, they are just curious to see you."

"Thank them for saving my friend's life and mine, please."

Akhona did so, and the men and woman gave him a nod.

"Follow me", Akhona instructed.

He lead him through another door. Inside, Robert saw the back of a man leaning over Bates's body. He was, too, lying on his back on a straw bed. They had removed his shirt and undershirt and his chest was wet with sweat. His right arm and shoulder were covered with some sort of cataplasm the healer was still gently applying.

"Oh, Bates…" Robert whispered. "Can you ask him if he'll make it through?" he then asked Akhona.

They talked to each other in Xhosa and Robert knelt beside John, taking his hand in his.

"He says that if he gets through the night, he'll live. We will be doing the best we can."

Robert turned his gaze back to John and squizzed his hand.

"You have to fight, Bates. I won't lose you."

The night had fallen upon the little village. Torches were lighting the outside of the huts and the moon was bright up in the sky, casting some of its light on the ground.

Robert had been invited by the chief to eat at his table, because as he had explained to him, it was what any respectable host would do. He had reassured him that John was in the best of hands and he would be praying for him.

As touching and kind it was of the chief to let him join him, Robert could only think of Bates and of going back to sit at his bedside. He tried his best to appear as grateful as possible, which he was.

"I cannot thank you enough for rescuing us, Chief. I am forever in your debt…" started Robert at the end of dinner.

Akhona, who was eating with them, translated the conversations.

"But?", he translated. The Chief was looking intensely at him.

"I don't want to be rude, but I'd love to go back to my friend. The healer said tonight would determine if he'll recover, and I would like to be there for him."

Robert waited anxiously for Akhona to translate. The Chief spoke, looking right at Robert, putting his hand on his heart.

"The Chief says he understands. He says that such friendship is sacred and he admires you for your dedication to your sick friend."

Robert happily sighed, relieved.

"Thank you," he said, rising to his feet and bowing his head.

The Chief approached him and put his hand on Robert's heart.

"Umhlobo," he said before turning away.

Robert left and went towards the hut where he had woken up. The cool air of the night tousled his hair. What he wouldn't give for a cigarette right now. He shook his head, and continued to walk towards his destination. Bates needed him right now and he wouldn't let him down.

As he entered, he heard someone whine faintly. Robert went to the room where Bates was lying and found him tossing and turning in his bed. Robert immediately sat beside him and took his hand, stroking his hair trying to calm him down.

"Bates, it's alright, shhh"

John mumbled something but Robert couldn't hear the words.

"What is it, Bates?" he asked.

"Father, no!" John groaned. "Not the belt, please!"

His body tensed as if he received a whiplash. He briefly turned his back to Robert. His eyes fell on the fresh scars crisscrossing his bare back.

"John, it's all right," he said with a gentle tone. "It's me, Captain Crawley. Your father is dead. He won't hurt you."

Bates grabbed Robert's hand and squeezed it, looking right into his eyes. For a second, Robert thought he had come back to reality.

"Mum…" John whispered.

"Mum?" Robert said surprised. "No, no. It's me, Robert. Captain Crawley."

"Mum," John said, more convincingly this time. "I will protect you. He will never touch you, ever again. I promise you."

"You're talking about your father…" Robert said to himself.

"I will help you. I swear." John was looking at Robert with fresh tears in his eyes.

Seeing there was nothing he could do to bring his friend back to reality, the fever being too strong, Robert played along.

"I know you will. You always do."

Robert took John's hand in his, trying to soothe him. It seemed to work as John weakly smiled, shut his eyes again and fell unconscious.

"It was beautiful."

Robert turned around, surprised that someone was there with them, to find Akhona leaning on the door behind him.

"What you said, pretending for him to bring him peace," he continued.

"I don't know about that. Anyone would do the same I think"

"You're a good man, Captain Crawley. A good friend and a good man."

But the touching moment was cut short as a scream from outside resonated.

"What is it?" Robert asked, confused.

Akhona had tensed next to him.

"The Boers. They're here. Ever since your troops won their territory, they've been sacking and stealing villages."

"Come," Robert instructed him.

As they exited the hut, they joined the group of villagers gathered in the centre of the place. Panic was visibly gaining the men and women. They seemed disorganised and lost as if they were getting ready to lose everything.

"Chief!" Robert said, coming towards the charismatic leader. "What are you planning on doing?"

Akhona spoke, translating.

"He doesn't know. We are not a fighting people. We have women and children, old and sick people, among them your friend."

Flashes of Cora and his girls danced before his eyes. Then of Bates lying in the hut behind them. He suddenly realised that everyone was looking at him, the Captain of His Royal Majesty, an officer of the British Army. The only experienced man in the village.

"How many are they?" He asked, determined. The wheels were turning in his mind.

"This young lad saw the dust of their troop about a mile from here. Ten men at the most."

"Good. They think we're an easy target. They're in for a shock." Robert turned to the Chief. "I need every man fit to fight to come with me and defend the village. We have to protect it. Take guns, machetes, anything good to kill."

When Akhona finished translating, Robert took him aside.

"I need you to stay with Bates."

"But I have to defend…"

"You will defend your village. Take this gun with you," Robert said, handing him the little pistol. "I trust you to protect Bates and the village if a Boer manages to enter the village."

Akhona hesitated but took the gun.

"Good lad."

Robert gave him a slap on the shoulder and gathered his new troop.

After they had blocked the road to the village with trees they had cut, Robert and the village men were hiding on either side of it, patiently waiting hidden behind bushes.

Finally, the Boers arrived. Seeing the road blocked, the first one rode down from his horse, indicating to the others to stop. He said something to the blond man next to him. They were getting suspicious, and Robert's plan needed to be executed now or never.

He raised his hand in a sign for the others to attack.

Bullets flew first, then men with machetes came out of the bushes taking the Boers by surprise. Many fell to the ground, their horses rearing up.

But their advantage didn't last long. The Boers shot in turn, killing three men. Even if they were outnumbering the Boers, they weren't trained killers like their opponents.

Dirt and blood were mixing on the ground. Robert saw the Chief in difficulty and jumped to his rescue. Grabbing his sword, he put himself in between and recognised the Boer commander who had ridden first. Before he could shoot, Robert attacked him, making him fall to the ground and drop the gun.

The following came too quickly for Robert to register. As he was making sure the Chief was in safety the Boer commander had already risen up and was giving him a punch in the face.

Robert bit the dust and wrestled on the ground with his opponent. Hand-to-hand combat had never been his strong suit. He knew how to throw a few punches but it was about it. He tried to grab his sword which was lying a few centimetres away but when he was about to grab it, the Boer grabbed his collar and pushed him back with force. Robert coughed, his chest was hurting. As he opened his eyes and rolled on his back, he saw the Boer commandant above him, holding the beautiful sword his father had made for him in his hand. How ironic to die by this sword, he thought to himself. A present his father had made him, wanting him to toughen up and enter the army. Which Robert had done reluctantly, as he was seeking his father's approval. Maybe dying at war would finally make him proud.

The first rays of the sun appeared behind the Boer commander. Robert, accepting his fate, inhaled one last time as his opponent brandished the sword.

A gunshot resounded. Robert incredulously watched the Boer drop the sword and fall to the ground, dead.

Another gunshot killed a second Boer man while the Chief killed the last one. Robert, stunned, didn't move.

Akhona appeared next to Robert. He gave him his hand and helped him up to his feet.

"Akhona, what are you doing here? I told you to stay with Bates!"

"I did as you asked Captain Crawley," Akhona replied, a smile on his face.

Robert frowned in lack of understanding. Akhona indicated to him to look behind him with a nod of his head.

Slowly turning around, Robert came face to face with a dishevelled man. Bates. His dark hair was tousled, his face still pale. He was swimming in his trousers and dirty shirt but even then, he still looked strong, carrying his beloved Lee-Enfield on his shoulder. The gun was still smoking and John was waiting for his Captain to react.

Surprising everyone, Robert started to laugh. Bates and Akhona exchanged looks.

"I told you! The best shot I've ever seen!" Robert exclaimed after he calmed his giggles. "I'm so glad to see you back on your feet, Bates."

John and Robert both saddled their horses which the villager men had stolen from the Boers.

Before letting them go to the nearest British city, the Chief made Robert promise, after he had thanked him for the hundredth time for saving John's life, to talk to the British generals to provide them security and protection against the Boers.

In turn, the Chief thanked them by offering them jewels. Robert was already saying how Cora would wear this bracelet and pass it on to their daughters later on. But John stayed quiet and put the necklace the Chief had offered him around his neck. He knew it was wrong of him because after all, she was his wife, but he didn't want to give it to Vera. These jewels, the Chief had said, would bring them to their soulmates.

Even though he didn't believe in these fairytales anymore, John knew that if they existed, Vera wasn't his.

He thought back to her letters full of reproach and hate towards him. In her last letter, she had said she would prefer for him to die so she could at least have his pension. Well, she needn't worry, he thought to himself. One day his luck would run out and a bullet would pass through him, putting an end to his useless, agonising life. Robert would be upset for a while and forget about him. At least it's what John hoped. His mother would be heartbroken but would live with the idea that her only son had died a hero. And Vera… well, Vera would be happy. The greatest gift he could give his wife apparently was to die.

"Ready, Sergeant Bates?" Robert sent him a mischievous smirk.

They mounted their horses and left the small village behind them, John's heart heavy for going back to reality.