The War to End Everything

[missbrightside]

Later he will think back on these moments, retread the memories until they are worn and going yellow around the edges, scouring for a single clue, a sign that they could have used to know what was coming. One will never come to mind. It was supposed to be a simple trip, there and back, part of a motor convoy but really that was all precaution, as they understood it. It was a breath of fresh air, quite literally, a chance to let down their guard a little without a superior barking orders or bullets trimming their ear hairs.


The first mine went off and then the soldiers, waiting out of sight along the road ran towards the convoy and began to fire. Shock doesn't stick well to the smooth metal soldiers are made of, and within seconds they were returning fire at the Germans. Kip doesn't actually remember this. In his mind it goes something like this: Grimmings, driving the jeep and joking around. A sound like the ground splitting in two and then coming back together, like a thunderstorms on earth, ground shaking in reverbs. Grimmings on the ground with a bullet hole in neck, Kip trying to stop it, stop the bleeding, what do I do help someone please help how do I save him, panicking, not recognizing a lost cause. Kip never sees what's too broken to fix, now his comrades know it as well his mother does, at six it's a toy, eleven it's a baby rabbit, sixteen his family, eighteen himself, nineteen fingers shoved deep into a wound to try to limit damage that's already been done once again, maybe for the last time this time because explosion again and then Kip is hit with a piece of shrapnel.


Sometime soon after, Kip loses consciousness. They tell him they find him holding onto Grimmings with everything he has. They assume it's because Kip didn't want him to be left behind; it might be more accurate to say that Kip didn't want to be left behind, though he never corrects them.


He only regains consciousness once before the shrapnel has been extracted from his hip. It's on the way to the hospital, and the men try to keep him awake by making him talk.


Yes, his is name is Julius Kipling.


Yes, he remembers being hit.


Yes, he knows he's fighting in the second world war, the last war. The war that will end everything.


This is the end of the world, he thinks before blacking out.

 

[angxla]

Everyone on the base seemed to hold their breath that day; from the moment her eyes opened to the grey walls of the nurses chambers, Trin knew that something was wrong. No one could've possibly foreseen just how wrong it would be, not until they brought in the injured, all young men with none of them older than twenty five. Trin knew it was a bad one, because she only operated on four men and she knew that at least twenty had left this morning.


Trinity Nolan was the only medic on the base with the knowledge to operate in any capacity, and despite only nineteen years of life, she was damn good at it. She had been removing bullets and stitching wounds since she was only fifteen, and she'd been enduring the criticisms of being a woman in medicine every step of the way. She had never broken a sweat over a simple bullet removal until that man. It took her two and a half hours, six aids, and all the courage she could summon for her to be completely satisfied that he was safe and would recover safely, but even after he was out of the surgery it wasn't enough for her. She couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling something still wasn't right.


Nineteen hours of hopping from one injured soldier to another later, one of the younger nurses - barely sixteen years old in fact - sprinted to Trinity's side, holding her arm tightly.


"The general thinks he going to wake up soon, he wants you to be there," Madison explained softly, her young eyes ringing with concern and seeming distraught with innocence. Trin had always held Madison to be like a younger sister, and it killed her to see the girl like this. She doesn't deserve this...none of us do.


The brunette simply nodded slowly, squeezing her friends hand before rushing to the room she'd left that man in - God what was his name? Something with a K maybe. She knocked on the door quietly before opening the door and stepping in, pulling her hair up to keep it away from her eyes.


"Sir, you asked for me?" She said politely, nodding respectfully at the General who sat in the chair beside the soldier's bed.

 

[missbrightside]

The General nodded at the girl, rising out of the chair. "You can sit, if you like," he said, waving a hand, his mind clearly elsewhere. He was restless. It hadn't been clear what the strategic value behind this ambush had been: the loss of the supplies being transported would be felt, but not enough to justify this. Then he had arrived at the hospital. All had been clear when he saw the faces of the staff. Suffering. "Thank you for your hard work today. It's a shame the ones you saved won't ever be noticed for the ones that couldn't be, but it matters to me, all the same."


He felt that both himself and this young woman had a bit of a kindred spirit. They both carried an extra dose of responsibility that had nothing to do with age or rank. The war rested a bit heavier on their shoulders than on others, or maybe just in a more personal way.


Kip sensed the presence of others in the room as he woke up. He didn't find this particularly comforting, just another set of confusing things to place and, a set of things that brought their own weight to the room. "General," he said, stiffening slightly as he recognized him, his brow furrowing. That meant things had gone very, very badly.


"Kipling," the General said, seemingly wanting to stop him from going down that mental track. "Good to see you. Do you remember..." He trailed off, wetting his lips. It was odd to see him so out of his element, even odder to see him completely unable to hide it. Not that Kip blamed him. He reminded him of a wrung out dishcloth.


Kip nodded once, sharply, which was a mistake. Lights danced in his line of vision, his stomach wobbling precariously. He closed his eyes.


"-some questions. .... This woman... Extrodinary- She saved your life, son." Kip recovered in time to hear the tail end of whatever the man had been telling him. He opened his eyes slowly, turning them towards the girl for the first time.


She saved my life. He tested out the thought. It didn't mean all that it should, he realized. In fact it was practically meaningless. He didn't know how to be anything but alive. Though he was racking up an impressive list of friends he could consult on the matter.


He ought to be saying something grateful, but he didn't know how to show gratitude for this. "Was it difficult?" he found himself asking instead. The thought brought the slightest of smiles to his lips, wry and more than a bit off on his face, pale and gaunt. If he couldn't show appreciation for the end result, he could at least commend the act. "I'll bet it was difficult." It sounds curiously fragile, like a man on the edge. On the edge of what?

 

[angxla]

The woman seemed froze in her own mind with one glance at the General. She knew very little about the war, and she liked to keep it that way, but it was undeniably clear from the way he held himself - or rather, the way he couldn't hold himself - that this certainly didn't bold well for the near future. "Thank you, Sir, but I'm alright. And there's no reason for you to thank me. This is all I know how to do." She responded, her voice soft and tender, unable to imagine how this man must feel, knowing that he had lost so many today, many that were taken from this world long before their time was up.


This war was a heavy weight on everyone, even those that were not directly involved, but Trinity would have to be lying through her teeth if she tried to say that this job didn't take a mental and even physical toll on her. She would never admit it, but she'd been sick over the number of deaths she'd seen more than once in her recent history. And the fact that at any moment, her own brother - the only family she still had - could become just another casualty was enough to drive any sentient being to their wits end.


There was a brief moment before she heard the solider's voice, almost like the room around them was taking in it's first breath, and she knew he was going to wake. Within seconds, she had filled a syringe with morphine, which she knew he'd need after a surgery like that, and her index and middle finger were pressed against the inside of his wrist. The woman's brown eyes were set silently on the clock within the room as she counting her way through his pulse, completely blocking out the conversation he shared with the General.


After a minute, her fingers dropped from his skin as she scribbled down his pulse rate and stepped away to wash her hands, wincing slightly at the General's words. Recognition wasn't something she aimed for, in fact if she were to make a list of things she'd fight a war to avoid, recognition would be at the top. She didn't see death and blood every day so someone could pat her on the back, she did it because it needed to be done. And despite all of this, Kipling's question still seemed to catch her off guard.


"It took me an hour and a half to stabilise you. Another hour to ensure the bullet wouldn't fragment again and destroy you muscular and nervous system." She stated in a flat tone, not interested in feeding what she assumed to be the soldier's ego hunting for bragging rights. "So yes. Difficult is a word I'd use to describe it. But here you are safe and sound. I'll be out side if you need me." She mumbled, nodding again at the General as she started to step outside, confused as to why they wanted her there at all.

 

[missbrightside]

Just as he suspected, it was easy to admire her dedication to the cause. What he didn't anticipate was how it made him slightly humbled, bashful even, to be part of the cause. She had a pious single mindedness toward her duties, an attitude found only in ghosts or persons who had Divine purpose.


"I'm sorry," Kip said, "sounds like a lot of trouble for some dumb kid from Connecticut."


The General gave him a look that told him he had come across as more sulking than he had meant to, before turning to catch the medic's eye. "Before you leave miss," he said, "What kind of recovery can we anticipate?" He had lowered his voice before asking, as though it was someone less nosy if done quietly. Kip wouldn't have blamed him either way, though. The man had a war to fight. He needed to know things, though it seems he has been goofing that up quite a bit lately.


Kip was starting to get awfully drowsy: the meds, he figured. Still, he wanted to tune in for this. He needed to formulate a letter to his family, after all, find a way to explain it without anyone going nutty. Wait a minute.. Did they know already? Jeez. He hoped not. Ma would be in hysterics.

 

[angxla]

The woman's petite frame seemed to freeze in its place as the soldiers words collided with her consciousness, leaving her undeniablely baffled with his somehow apologetic atitude. Trin wasn't sure how she would feel in his shoes, but she had a feeling she wouldn't be apologising to anyone. "Yeah," she chuckled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "A dumb kid from Conneticut that did one of the bravest things I've heard about in awhile." Trin added, jotting down a request for a lighter pain killer so they could ween him off morphine quickly before starting for the door again.


Trinity turned again, blinking innocently with a sense of surprise when he called her Miss - frankly his polite nature wasn't something she saw very often, particularly not from men in her field. "Sir, please. Call me Trin," she mumbled softly, looking down at her hands. "And he'll recover fully, it'll take a few weeks for him to get his strength back but -" she stopped mid sentence, realising she was discussing the life of a man seating five feet away from her. "You're going to be perfectly fine, good as new. You have my word on that," she said in a softer tone, her gaze locked on the man whose life has been in her hands just hours ago.


A soft sigh left her lips before she stepped forward towards him, realising he'd probably be getting drowsy. "Listen, the medications will take the edge off the pain for about a day. After that, it's going to hurt - more than I want to admit. I'll be back in a few hours to help you get a letter out to your next of kin, just..." she stopped, standing upright again and begining to back out again. "Get some rest."

 

[missbrightside]

That was more than a bit of an exaggeration. "I'm sure you say that to every soldier that comes through here," Kip said, glancing down. He never knew before the army that it could be so embarrassing to do even slightly better than average. Of course there was the very real possibility he had never been better than average before the army. "Though you might want to quit. It makes us get better faster, sure but," he dropped his head back against the pillow with a sigh, "we'll stick around a lot longer."


There was an avalanche of thoughts and emotions when she said he was going to recover. Two of them rose to the top. One was thank god. Thank god that he would be well again and soon. Thank god he wouldn't have to ask What do you do with yourself after you've seen a thing like that? Because it would be answered for him, and the answer would, of course, be Exactly what you were doing before. The other half of it was just that.


Exactly what I was doing before.





For how long? How much longer could he go on? As the medic looked at him - Trin, Kip remembered - as Trin looked at him he realized he wasn't the only one wondering that. She was young, he realized suddenly, couldn't be much of a difference between them. It was difficult to think about, maybe because of the subject matter but more probably the morphine. To be saving lives at that age. But of course that would mean losing just as many. She promised him pain and a letter, and he could tell she meant them both equally.


"You too," he told her, and then he smiled because it sounded like he wasn't making any sense but he meant exactly what he said.


The General was saying something to one of them or the other. Kip didn't follow it but he heard his tone, the even keel of it, completely unlike Trin yet somehow just a bit similar. He was a good man, and he willed himself to remember that in the weeks to follow, in his times where he was feeling a lot less warm and drowsy and also a lot less gracious. What did Trin stand for, he wondered, trying to force himself to remember the thought. He held it at the front of his mind, just above the rising tide of sleep, as he drifted off.

 

[angxla]

Trinity couldn't help but smile a bit at that, shaking her head gently but not bothering to argue it, there wasn't really much use in it anyway. In fact, it was fairly rare that she'd interacted with her patients this much, normally she would just make sure they were okay and leave as soon as she could, securing the knowledge that she had done all that she could. It just seemed to make it easier for her to compartmentalise all the suffering and death she saw every day. Frankly, she still wasn't sure how she felt about having to interact so closely with this soldier, but he just seemed like someone who needed her - which was probably an idiotic thing for her to think, considering there really wasn't much left that she could do for him.


The soldier's - no, it was a K..Kipling, she repeated to herself, figuring the least she could do was learn the damn name already - last few words rang in her ears as she stepped out of the room. "You too." She chuckled a little as she walked down the hall to check on one of the other survivors. Rest wasn't something she enjoyed oddly enough, she always felt like she was wasting what little time she had left. Every one was always going on about how this was the end, and she didn't want to die while sitting on a ratty old couch and crying over one of her mom's jazz records.


Did she? She didn't want to die at all, but maybe Saint Peter would grant her a little more mercy if she went out stitching up someones wound.


Mercy, she though, scoffing a little at the very idea of it. God knows this world could use more of that.





The woman worked her way through the other soldiers - luckily they had all gotten out much better off than Kipling had - so she was just about done within three hours. One of the other doctors recommended that she go home, reproducing that idea of rest for her, but she didn't seem too eager. As much as she ached for a moment of peace, without having to strain just to keep up with what she was doing, going back to a nurses tent filled with tiny cots and weeping mothers - it wasn't something she could swallow.


Besides, she had promised the soldier a letter, and promises weren't taken lightly in the Nolan family. Within another hour, the brunette had gather a bit of information on Kipling's family and gotten ahold of a typewriter. She waited at a bench outside his room for him to wake, carefully scanning a bit of his file.

 

[missbrightside]

Kip slept like the dead, and woke up in the kind of confusion that always comes from waking up somewhere new at an odd time of day. Once he looked around and remembered what was going on, the second thing he did was flip back the blanket. He ran his fingers along the bandaging around his hip, taking inventory. The area around the wound seemed to be mostly numb for now, as he could hardly feel his own touch. However he gasped out loud and bit down on his lip as he shifted and muscles tensed from the inside. Jeez. Don't do that again.


Almost like a dream, he remembered how the General had been in this room, asking about his condition. For sure he was looking for a way to turn this around, looking for an inspiration, a success-in-the-face-of-adversity story to boost morale. If that was true, then Kip supposed he could be that story. It wouldn't be so different than anything else he had been doing ever since he had enlisted: he had the script, he just had to play the part until he believed it.


Ever so gently, he checked up on the other wound, the invisible one that had torn through somewhere deep inside his heart. This one hadn't had the preferential treatment of being stitched up, and he didn't know how wide it gaped. He was too afraid to find out. As he traced the edges he found much the same thing that he did with his bullet wound: numb, for now.


He settled back against the pillows and listened to the noise from the hallway. He had concluded that though he was battered, somewhat thristy, and a little bit frightened, he was, practically speaking, just fine. His recovery might not be easy, but what did pain mean to the young, especially a young soldier? Especially one who had the death of friends and his own narrowly avoided one behind him, like a dog motivating a rabbit. The only problem he could spot coming was the inevitable boredom of days lounging about, especially if he was going to be spending them all by his lonesome.

 

[angxla]

Trinity waited for almost an hour before it dawned on her that she really had no way of knowing when he'd wake up. She assumed it'd be soon, considering the morphine would wear off around this time and it would a feat to sleep through that kind of pain. Within about ten minutes, one of the other men walked by and stopped to thank her, and what better opportunity would she have? She asked him quietly if he could check on Kipling and let her know whether or not he was awake, a request to which he quickly agreed.


It was hard to explain, but from the moment the man stepped into Kipling's room, Trin's nerves were at their breaking point. Anxiety wasn't something she was acquainted with, frankly she didn't have the slightest clue how to deal with it. But when the soldier stepped out of the room again and nodded to her, her heart just about throbbed out of her chest.


Gripping the file tightly, the petite woman knocked on the door and then slowly stepped in. "I know I'm not exactly the first person you'd like to see, but um..I mean your pain's gonna spike soon." She stammered out quickly, fumbling a little as she set everything down. "I didn't think you should be alone when it gets bad." Trinity finally said before reaching over to his wrist slowly to check his pulse. "H-how do you feel?"


Some people had this unbelievable gift, they could command a room with a few perfect words. They could rally troops behind them, evoke trust and friendship with one eloquently assembled sentence. Trinity's brother had this gift - she, however, did not.


Don't screw up now, she thought as she slowly pulled a chair over from the side of the wall. Most of the soldiers she treated already thought she was some kind of bimbo, No need to accentuate that idea.





She fell silent as she sat down, waiting for any response from him, as she figured it'd probably be easier to just follow him. He deserved that much at least, after the hell he'd been through.

 

[missbrightside]

Kip was eager for some company, and from the first sign of it he felt like a castaway waving and jumping around to catch the attention of a plane passing overhead. It very nearly a devastation to him when the man walked back out of the room, but that was replaced with a much greater satisfaction when Trin came in. He beamed at her.


The feeling changed a bit when he realized how nervous she was. Though he wasn't any less happy, his smile became more tempered for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on. Then he realized what it was.. He had been put firmly in the driver's seat in this situation, which was unexpected but not entirely unwelcome. He might be crippled but she was clearly a wreck, which put them about even on the pity scale. Her hands were cool, soothing on his warm skin, and he realized he had been right, she must be a ghost after all. Is this what happens when a creature with a job to do can't do it any more completely?


His heart swelled almost painful at her words, at her genuine.. Genuiness. He ran a hand through his hair, well more across it with the buzzcut, as he attempted to gather himself. "I'm hanging in there," he said lightly, though he was certainly less numb now. "Say, why do you think I wouldn't want to see ya?"


Considering that most people he'd want to see were either dead (Grimmings, Douglas Fairbanks, Dad) or an ocean away (his family), he'd say she's the person he wants to see most on the whole continent. Not half bad.

 

[angxla]

For the first time since she had been on a hands on basis with his injured hip, Trin let herself take a good look at the man. At first glance, there wasn't anything particularly remarkable about him. He was handsome, but most of the young soldiers that she saw were. What stuck out to her was the fact that - during a time like this - he could even think about summoning a smile.


A soft chuckle left the brunette's pale pink lips at his first response. "Well hanging is pretty good considering the circumstances. Most soldiers would be losing their head by now," she explained, offering him a comforting smile as she lifted her fingers from his skin, the surprise of his next question showing brightly in her eyes.


Trinity wasn't a girl that cared much about hiding how she felt. If she was angry, you could tell within a second of even being in the same room as her. So she didn't bother to conceal the wonder she had as to why a man like him would've been even slightly happy to see someone like her.


"Well, to be frank, most people hate hospitals, so I've already got that stacked against me," she started off, obviously joking around a little with that remark. "But no one I've treated has ever been awfully happy to see me again. Usually brings bad luck," she added with a shrug, only half joking that time as she turned to offer him the file she had compiled on his family.


It was a little odd, gazing into someone's life like that, but no one else would've done it - not unless the man was dead or missing. And Trin felt like she owed him some thing - anything as long as it made him more comfortable.


"I sort of did some digging, some research on your family," she explained, sitting beside him. "They're all doing well, probably anxious to hear from you." Her eyes were glued to his face at this point, waiting to analyse the slightest reaction - and praying that it'd be a good one.

 

[missbrightside]

"Hmmm. Well I guess if you want to look at it that way." He didn't want to look at it that way, and he didn't see why anyone would. That would probably (definitely) get on his nerves, but that probably (definitely) made her a bigger person who was much more suited to this line of work. Kip needed way too much validation: that's why he made a good soldier. One of the reasons, anyway.


He flipped open the file and was immediately confronted by a wave of emotion. What was he ever going to be able to do to repay her? He closed his eyes and took a breath - no he was not going to cry, Jesus - and smiled at Trin. "Thank you."


"You know what the real lonely thing about all this is?" he asked, letting the file rest against his chest as he looked up at the ceiling. "I can remember all these little things, and I have this picture of all of them, and I'll try to picture whatever it is they might be doing at the time. But it's like I can never hold all of it in my mind at once. I can't remember them," he explained. "I try but I can't. Know what I mean?" Kip quickly glanced at Trin. "Well I suppose you do, don't ya?"


The floodgates had been opened, and words just kept pouring out of his mouth. "But what really bothers me.. I know that they're out there, doing their thing, breathing and laughing and buying the groceries even if I can't picture them doing it. But what happens when they aren't? What happens when someone's not ever gonna eat a cheeseburger again, and you're never going to see it again unless you remember. And I know they always smacked on the bottom of the ketchup bottle like they were burping a baby, and I know they always knocked their knuckles on the table as they ordered, and I know they always ordered the burger with extra onions so they could put some on the fries- Point is, I know a lot of things. But how many more things did I already forget? How many more will I forget just because I never knew I needed to remember 'em from the first place? It's just not right, if you ask me. It's not right." Kip stopped and took a breath. Then he took another one, as his eyes widened. He ran a hand through (over) his hair.


"Jesus," he sighed, it slipping out before he corrected himself. "Jeez, sorry! Oh man, sorry. I'm sorry." This is the part where he wanted to run out of the room but couldn't.

 

[angxla]

Trin smiled faintly and sat back into the chair beside his bed watching him carefully. She couldn't deny that she was surprised with how much he shared, not that she wasn't completely used to it. She had heard men discuss the most intimate details of their life - from the brightest moments of their childhood to the affair they wanted to confess to, even memories that some of them had of the first war. Sometimes it was these stories that kept her sane, it was the only real assurance she had that the world hadn't completely lost it's humanity.


It was incredible to her, everything he remembered. It was like he was sharing a little glimpse of his life with her and despite everything she'd heard, no one had ever done that before. Her hand moved instinctively to his shoulder as she sensed him getting more and more anxious while he continued. Every little detail seemed as if it weighed heavily on him, she only hoped getting it all out would ease the pain. She couldn't imagine what it felt like, granted she had been separated from her family as well, but at least she knew her parents were watching over her.


"Don't apologise," she chuckled softly, her hand rubbing his shoulder gently. "I've heard far worse. And besides, it's okay to feel like this. It means that they haven't gotten to you yet," the woman voiced softly, her words calm and gentle. She paused before continuing, unsure if she really wanted to share this with him.


"My parents both passed away, my mum when I was twelve and my father when I sixteen," she started off softly, smiling at him calming just to assure him that she didn't need sympathy. "And I remember them almost like they're still with me now. I mean, my papa - he used to read the paper twice every day, the first time only reading the headlines and the captions. And whenever he'd teach me, he always used to scratch his neck when he was impressed or happy with what I did, even though her never said it out loud." Trinity continued, not really realising what she was saying any more. "And mother, she always used colour code all our groceries, without even think about it. We started called lettuce the green and rice the yellow and we would all laugh about how our ration stamps could barely get up enough yellow to fill up even one of the green bags."


The woman laughed softly and then looked away from him, realising she had been rambling about her own family and this clearly wasn't what the poor man needed now. "W-what I'm trying to say is, no matter what happens, you aren't going to forget. Not the important stuff at least. You'll always remember just enough to laugh a little or cry a little. Just enough to keep them with you." Trin's hand carefully fell back into her lap as she offering him a weak smile. "So about that letter?"

 

[missbrightside]

He felt like even more of a goof once she told him about her history. What right did he have to complain when he had it easier than so many others? Compared to other people Kip sounded like a whiny child. But nevertheless, as Trin went on with her descriptions it filled him with happiness. Bittersweet as it might have been, he could tell that she was telling him the truth, not just reassuring him. It was kind of her to share when it was so risky to let anyone close. Then again, maybe that's why they were doing it. With her hand on his shoulder, they could defy this world for just a minute, pretend that things were different and it wouldn't eventually backfire on them to have shared and been shared with.


That's what they had in common, Kip realized. Neither of them had a choice in the heart they were born with: big and close to the surface, easy to touch but easy to wound. What they did have some choice in the way they opened it. Often, and at great risk, but choosing to do it anyhow. He couldn't say why she did it, but he could say that it was brave.


"Letter, right," he said, smiling. Smiling was generally his default state, sure, but he was also hoping that at some point it might lure out one of her's. Not the small, watered down Nurse's Smile she gave out in plenty, but the real deal.


He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, lost in thought for a minute. "Okay, you're the expert. What am I supposed to tell them?" he said with a grin. "Well, let me say that a little differently: How do I do this without making my folks lose their minds?"

 

[angxla]

It felt as if a decade's worth of heart ache had been lifted off her chest as she spoke to him. Despite her being the surrogate older sister for many of the nurses, family wasn't something they talked about often - quite the contrary in fact. It was a subject, like many others, that they consistently pushed to the side, praying that maybe if they never talked about it it would never be real.


But the soldier sitting beside her made her feel as if she could share this with him, even if it was probably one of the riskiest thing she could do.


Maybe it's a sign, she thought, letting the faint controlled smile grow into a soft chuckled when she heard him speak. Maybe I should be taking more risks around now.





"Well, I wouldn't really say I'm an expert," she laughed softly, her voice almost melodic in nature. "Maybe start by telling them your alive and you're going to be fine. Then explain what happened," Trinity shrugged gently, hoping that it seemed doable. "And throw in a couple jokes, you seem like a guy that knows how to make someone laugh."


Her smile grew slightly as she returned her hand to his shoulder briefly. "I'm gonna get you some food. God knows you deserve a good meal." She explained, standing up slowly. "I'll let you have some time to write this up, but I'll be back soon if you need me." She turned slowly, cringing a little at how that last sentence had come out. Offering him one last smile, Trin tried to get out of the room as quickly as she could without letting him see the bright blush spreading across her face.

 

[missbrightside]

"Food.. That does sound nice," he agreed. Now that she mentioned it, it felt like it had been a year since he had eaten anything. "Don't be gone too long," Kip called, then cringed inwardly at his own words. This was going go be a long few weeks if he couldn't stop shoving his foot in his mouth. He turned his mind towards his letter and how he was going to begin it.


My Dear family,


Okay people, remain calm.


Dear Ma,


As you read this, consider: I'm clearly enough in one piece to have written this letter.


To whomever it may concern,


So I'm just going to give the summary version of this story: I got shot at, they got me, but I'm all fine now.





No, no and no. As time went on and he ran through more possibilities, the ideas got worse as his mood slid downhill. (Holy cow, I'm still alive! Never would have seen that coming.) He was getting a little frustrated with the task, and he was absolutely aching by now which just made him crabby.


Thankfully, once he got the first part done, the rest was cake. He told them about some of the things he had seen and done, the ones that weren't too graphic. He told them how he had been kept so busy he barely had time time to miss them, but he sure did anyway. He found himself, for one reason or another, telling them about the nurse that was taking care of him, and had in fact enabled him to write this letter. Overall, he tried inject the letter with a complete sense of happiness and well being, whether it was true or not, about himself, his circumstances, the direction of the war itself.


Fake it till you make it. He had the script, he just had to play the part.

 

[angxla]

A smile graced the woman's lips when she heard him, followed by a twinge of sadness. She could imagine what life was like for him, knowing that at any moment, he could lose a friend or even his own life. Without really thinking about it she turned back to him briefly. "I won't. Promise." She said softly, before stepping out of the room and carefully securing the door shut behind her.


Trin could quite figure why she was putting so much of her time into this soldier - anyone could've told you that it was incredibly unlike her to say the least. He was a lot younger than the men she was used to treating, in fact he was probably one of the first soldiers she'd encountered that was about her age. Maybe that was it - that made sense, right?


It's at least been nice to talk to someone that doesn't treat me like a pin up girl, she thought optimistically as she put just about any type of food she could find onto a tray for him, along with a jug of somewhat fresh water - as fresh as you could get in a war zone- and a few pills that could help with his pain.


By the time she paid for everything and made it back to his room without getting caught up in any of the nurses' gossip circles, it ha been nearly an hour. Enough time to get at least a good start on that letter, she hoped. Trin figured that if they could send that letter out tonight, his family could get it within about a week or two. With a few gentle raps at his door, she carefully turned the knob and smiled as she stepped inside.


"I brought anything that seemed half decent. I wasn't really sure what you'd like," she explained, carefully placing the tray of food down on the table beside he's bed which she was then able to wheel over so that he could reach it easily. "Everything go okay with that letter?"

 

[missbrightside]

"There's the leading lady." He looked over the food with an appraising eye as she wheeled it over to him. "Good picks. It all looks completely edible." Kip winked, picking up the water and draining half of it.


"It was looking rough for a minute there, but I think I've got it now," he said, picking up the letter and offering it to Trin. Meanwhile his other hand roamed across the plate, settling on a piece of broccoli which he popped into his mouth. "And if you just so happen to glimpse any embarrassing grammatical errors, feel free to fix them. My mother still doesn't know I failed 5th grade English and I want to keep it that way." He grinned, then looked slightly concerned. "Not that I failed a lot of things. Just the English. Once."


Suddenly he spotted the pills sitting along side his food, and his face lit up like a (illiterate) kid in a candy shop. He downed them with some of the water that was left. He swore he could already feel the difference. Picking up a fork, he went in for a bite of whatever casserole type thing was on his plate. He looked around in wonder. "Have you had this? Either I'm starving or it's actually great." He pushed the plate towards her. "Try this and tell me if I'm hallucinating."

 

[angxla]

A surprised smile glimmered over Trin's face when she heard his welcome, her dark eyes even lighting up the slightest bit. She couldn't truthfully remember the last time she'd really smiled like that, but it seemed to come naturally. Her cheeks coloured a faint shade of pink before she quickly shook that away, returning to the chair beside his bed.


The woman carefully took the letter, scanning it over with a gentle smile, knowing how much a message like this would mean to his mother. There were several times when Trin had written letters to her own mother and simply imagined what she might've looked like as she read them, her warm eyes gleaming at the thought of her daughter saving all those lives and her son out there fighting for God knows what. Of course, all those letters ended up stuffed in Trinity's pillow case, so it was comforting to know that at least one mother would get a little solace - even if it wasn't her own.


"Hey, if I know anything about war mothers, the last thing she's going to look at is whether you used the correct form of 'there,'" Trin chuckled softly, her hand reaching over to return the letter to him. "Besides, it's perfect. If I were a mom, I'd be beaming," she joked lightheartedly, hoping that she could lift his spirits a little after all that.


Trin breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him take the pill, securing the knowledge that his pain wouldn't be completely unbearable. And even if it was, she had promised herself - for whatever reason - that she would see him through the next few weeks. It wasn't until her pushed his plate towards her that she seemed visibly surprised with something he had said. "What?" she blurted out, clearly not really thinking as she quickly jumped back in to patch up her blunder. "I mean, I shouldn't, you need to build up your strength. Besides I really don't eat much when I'm on duty," she explained, borderline rambling before she quickly stopped herself and offered him a weak smile.


Take more risks, she thought, mentally drowning in a sea of embarrassment. Yeah, that worked out for me.

 

[missbrightside]

Kip felt better about the whole letter writing process once he got a second opinion. Not just a second opinion, a second opinion who also happened to have some authority. He wondered if it was tiring to be so graceful and gracious all the time. It seemed that would require a lot of inner reflection, which was largely a mystery to him. He talked way too much to be so consistently tactful and prepared for every scenario.


Well, mostly every scenario, it would seem.


"Suit yourself," Kip said, sliding his plate back over. He broke off a large bite and put it in his mouth, feeling pretty bad about catching her so off guard. "I see your point. The healing properties of casserole are not to be messed with. I can feel it already." Stuck the fork in his mouth and briefly assumed a Popeye stance.


She was an absolute marvel. She knew what to say to basically everything, until suddenly she didn't. That was okay though. It was more comfortable that way, it made him feel less useless. "By the way Trin, it's cute when you're flustered." He quirked a smile. "Oh wait, that reminds me. Is that short for something," he asked, resting his fork on the side of the plate. "Your name, I mean."

 

[angxla]

A nervous smile held her lips hostage as sheet he's his reaction to her fumble. Granted, it wasn't entirely her fault - no one had ever offered her food before, particularly not when they still hadn't eaten. On the other hand, just about everything about this situation was unbelievable new to her so perhaps her awkwardness was fairly understandable.


It felt like she hadn't taken a breath for ages when she finally succumbed to a sigh of relief at his words. This relief was quickly followed by a soft chuckle at his reaction - she couldn't understand how someone in his situation could be so lighthearted. And to say that she appreciated it would've been the mass ruler of all under statements.


"Ah, perfect. Now all you've gotta do is save a damsel and you're set for life," she joked, nudging his shoulder gently where she knew she wouldn't end up accidentally hurting him - God knew she'd done enough of that during the surgery.


It didn't seem like they were at the centre of a war with him. For a second there, it just felt like they were two kids goofing around, and that's all they really were. Kids. Kids thrown into a war they didn't start, a war they didn't have much hope in ending. But she didn't think about that.


Instead she focused on recollecting her scattered thoughts after she'd heard the word cute leave his lips. Her eyes quickly focused back onto him as blood rushes to her cheek, her mind scrambling for something to say. "I - thanks." She stammered awkwardly, looking down just long enough for the blush to yield control of her face. "And, it's short for Trinity," she added softly, building the courage to glance back up at him. "Mom always complained that my pops wasn't devoted enough, so he got back at her by naming me after the big family," she explained, letting a laughed bubble up along with the memory.

 

[missbrightside]

"I'll keep my eyes peeled," Kip promised, smiling as she nudged at his shoulder. It was good to be with someone in a more normal way for once. For one, they seemed to be not only a similar age but at a similar point in their lives: their minds seemed to be in the same place. For two, he had missed having the softer, more gentle types of people in his life. He really got on with them better than a lot of the macho types, and for some times a woman's sympathy was better than a man's commiseration. For three, she was fun, and she put up with him. Even beyond the point of her job.


He smiled privately as she bloomed a brilliant pink. That was exactly what he had been talking about. He didn't believe in flattery, but he did believe that there was no reason to hide things like that when they were simply true. And if he did believe in flattery, he'd be hard pressed to find someone who deserved it more.


Her story made him laugh heartily. "That's so funny. They sound great, and your dad has amazing taste." Definitely reminded him of some of his own family memories from back in the day. "My name was a leftover," he explained. "I have a cousin a few months older than me; my aunt and uncle had a boy and girl name picked out. They had a girl, so guess who got the boy name. Yours truly."


He fed on things like that, little bits from other people's lives. Life was just a story, and stories were made of scenes, and scenes were built on moments like these. Collect enough and you could get anyone's story.

 

[angxla]

That smile that Trin had trained herself for years to hide just couldn't seem to die down, how could it? One could suggest that she was a bit naive to the situation, but it wasn't that. She knew not to expect much and not to overthink the things that the young man before her said or did, she had an older brother after all. However, being around a person like him, it was hard not to smile.


Her voice echoed his laughter softly as she shook her head, the memories of her parent's silly arguments flooding her mind all over again. It all seemed so vivid to her; her mum would go on about how we never went to church and dad would whistle to show that he was ignoring her. Then her brother would say something witting and the four of them would be rumbling with laughter.


She raised an eyebrow at his explanation of his name, shaking her head gently. "Well believe me, you're no leftover," she said, offering him the tender smile that seemed to come quite easily to her now. "Besides, that a pretty historic name you've got. And you're filling the shoes perfectly," the woman explained, slowly leaning back into her chair, blinking a few times as a question rose to the front of her mind.


"Speaking of names, would you rather me call you Kipling for the next couple of weeks, or do I have permission to use your first name once in awhile?" she asked, half joking. Despite her gentle laughter, her question was quite serious, a medic - particularly a female one - was practically required to get permission before addressing a soldier at all. Call it an unwritten rule.

 

[missbrightside]

Okay, yes, maybe her words did fluff his feathers up just a bit. What was the big deal about that anyway? Kip was pretty used to comments on his name, overall. The downside was that he could never get away with getting even the smallest bit bossy without someone making a Caeser reference and suggesting a stabbing. On the more positive end, when he had enlisted the officer told him that a name like that was meant to have something like "General" tacked on the front. Unfortunately, he didn't really have any other General qualities. Or maybe fortunately, depending on your perspective. But nevertheless, this specific compliment was a stand out moment, for whatever reason. It struck a cord with him that was apparently not touched on so much by others. Maybe it was because it hit so close to what Kip was trying to achieve.


"Oh! Call me whatever you like.. Just not late for dinner," he couldn't help tacking on cheesily. "Really though, nicknames have always stuck to me. A lot of my family calls me Jules, but my friends decided for me that was a sissy nickname pretty early on, so to them I've been Kip. Julius is good, too."


He hadn't even thought about this name thing before, but now he definitely was. He really hoped she decided to call him any of his names really, besides his last. That would just feel strange now that she had pointed it out. It pointed to weird power dynamics that he didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. He wondered if there were a lot of moments like that for her. He didn't know if he could bear it.