The forest was quiet and the day was bright. Like most times, this was how things looked right before things turned bad. No one was expecting what was coming. There was only the unusual sense of peace remnant, and that seemed to unsettle people most of all.

No one could sleep the night before. We’d all finished a long battle against our enemies with much casualty. You’d be lucky to even make it out alive. Everyone was on edge. I couldn’t blame them—me and Dane were, too. I’d sustained a pretty bad wound on my thigh from a bullet, while I was busy tending to a downed soldier.

That’s the thing about being a medic during war—you help as many as you can despite the distant feeling that you could be the next one who needs aid. There was a chance, even, that people wouldn’t be able to get to you at all. Taking such a weighted job is both important and overwhelming. Its making sure you’re giving your all, even if you have nothing left.

After yesterdays battle, we thought we all had nothing left to give. Soldiers were wounded, and some were probably still lying on the field out their in pain, alone. We had to retreat. There was nothing we could’ve done, or at least that’s what General Bailey Guil had been saying. “You did your best, soldier. Your best is all you can do. Get some rest.” That was what he said to us after we ran.

_We ran_.

We were cowards. That’s what I thought. If only we’d stuck it out to the end. Perhaps we could’ve saved so many more lives, and taken the equal amount due for the ones lost.

War was a dark thing. Imagine waking every morning, sometimes not even being able to rest, and constantly feeling like you might be next, as you picture a dying comrade. There was no hope, so we had to give it to people—find it for them, fight for it. That was our job, and damnit, I’d give every last bone in my body if it meant this feude could finally end.

A hand gently rubbed my non-wounded thigh. His hand—my husbands. We joined the army together. Live together; die together. That was what we believed in, and strongly, too. One never left without the other.

I turned to him with a strained smile. He had to cut his hair. It used to be long, but when we were enrolled, he was forced to. It coiled infront of his face, and I couldn’t help but move it from his eyes. It didn’t do much, as it bounced right back. He chuckled and I found my smile faltering. When was the last time one of us laughed? His face was sweaty and there was a bruise above his brow, a cut on his chin.

“Maddie . . .” he said. His hand paused and tightend on my leg. I stared at it, the one over the cammo patterned pants, and placed my own atop his. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the ring on my left hand with a kind a reverence. “There is nothing more important to me. You know that, right?”

I nodded. “I love you,” I said. It was the truth, and I couldn’t find anything else to respond with. He moved a stray strand of dark hair from my braid, behind me ear. Dane smiled and then pressed his lips against mine. I was sitting with my back pressed against a tree. His hand slid down to my hip while his thumb gently rubbed. He did this when he knew I was under a lot a pressure. It was reassuring, but not enough to draw me away from reality.

I removed my own hand gripped the side of his stomach and allowed my fingers to graze his chest all the way up to his neck, until I felt his chin. Then I gently pushed him away. I instantly regretted it. He looked so miserable. When had he started crying? Tears fell from the corners of his eyes as he grabbed both my hands and kissed them. “I’m so sorry, Mad,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Dane, this isn’t your fault—” before I was able to finish, he pinned me to the ground, his body against mine, his hand covering my mouth. Then the explosions set off. My ears rang and my head pounded. A pain at my waist drew my attention back to Dane. He must’ve been absolutely as terrified as I was. His hand gripped my side, almost like a reminder I was still there and protected under him. I tried to scream his name, but his hand was clamped over my mouth so tightly all that came out was a pitiful whimper. He was going to get himself killed.

Cries rang out from all directions. I could practically hear soldiers being torn apart by bombs and gunfire. Everything happened so fast, yet in slow motion all at once and I didn’t know how to make sense of it. There was nothing to do but simply pray you weren’t next and seek cover.

How many of us would be left? How did they find us? Would I die?

Suddenly a small bomb landed a few feet next to Dane and I. “Dane! Dane, Dane, Dane—!” I tried to shout. He rolled us as swiftly and as far away from it before it exploded and he flew off me. My ears rang and my vision blurred for a moment. But I wasn’t hit. I was okay. Although everything seemed distant when I caught sight of him. He was bleeding on the ground not too far off. I crawled over to him as fast as I possibly could and he grabbed my hands.

Dane had been hit. He was caughing up blood and one side of his stomach was hanging open, staining the shredded clothes that followed it a deep, haunting crimson. “Dane!” I cried. “I— where’s my med kit?” I frantically searched for the box. I had to find it. If I didn’t—

A shaky hand gently pulled my attention back to him. He was holding my cheek with tears in his eyes. His breathing was staggered and he caughed once more. Another bomb went off not to far away. The air was foggy and filled with dirt and smoke. It was almost difficult to breathe, but it was nearly impossible to take a good breath looking at Dane.

His hand was wet with blood that stained my cheek and dripped down his wrist onto my jacket. Every word he tried to utter was interrupted by another ferocious cough and the sound of explosion. So instead, he brought his other hand to his heart, and tapped two fingers on it while tears ran down his face.

“Dane, you’re not going. You’re not dying!” But his eyes were already becoming distant. “Please, Dane! Please try!” I begged. I knew he was trying. And that’s why he’d gestured that he loved me—because he had no strength left. His hand fell from my cheek and I attempted to stop the bleeding from his stomach, but there was so much of it. It seeped between my fingers and stained the dirt below. “You’re gunna make it, Dane. We’ll both make it and go back home. We can be together forever, and you wouldn’t be dead because we’d have made it—” when I looked back down to his face, he was still. His eyes were glossed over and the blood began to dry around his mouth. “Dane, no—!” then a bomb exploded and it all went dark.

**[ TWO DAYS LATER IN A HOSPITAL ]**

I woke with my palms and head bandaged and, a headache that made my ears beat. The feeling was odd—not the thrumming in my head or the pounding in my ears. I felt as though there were something missing. What was missing? The lights were so bright. Everything was in this room—down to the white-tiled floors, from the bright lights, all the way to the door just on the right of me. I reached over the hospital bed, spotting a large pitcher of water with a straw. My throat was dry. But the second I nearly had the water, my elbow slipped and knocked over the remote connected to my bed. It made a small beeping noise and only moments later, a nurse stepped inside.

She smiled the when she saw me, but it wasn’t the type of smile that would greet you. It was the sympathetic type of smile, the one some one wore just before they broke some sort of bad news.

“Nice to see you’re awake, Maddison,” she said. When I didn’t answer, she shot a look to the water on the table right next to me. “You must be thirsty. We’ve been hydrating and feeding you—” I looked to the needles plugged into my wrist, emitting liquids into my body “—but as it’s not what you’re body’s used to, I can imagine you’re stomach is feeling more than unsatisfied.” The nurse with her hair slicked back chuckled. The action was completely onesided.

“How long was I gone?” I rasped. Words were odd to form after so long. My throat felt dry and hoarse. I looked down to the woman’s name tag—_Lynda_.

“Two days, Mrs. Fossey,” she answered carefully.

_Fossey? My name is Maddison _Lazio_—_

__

__

That’s_ _when it hit me. Dane. My Dane—Dane Fossey. My husband. We were—

“Where is he?” The nurses smile faltered at my direct tone. “Where is my husband!?”

“Mrs. Fossey, I thought you’d remember . . .” she said. “Soldier Dane Fossey and you—you and him were both commissioned, along with your team, to a forest in Brazil . . .” My eyes watered and I fisted the blanket in my hands as she went on. “There was an unexpected raid and you guys were bombed—”

“Stop.” I remembered. Tears poured down my cheeks. I remembered everything, every detail. He must’ve noticed the soft blinking of a bomb as we were talking. That’s the only way he could’ve known. He threw himself on top of me to protect me from the blasts. But he was hit, and I couldn’t do anything to save him. I just watched him die. He couldn’t even form final words.

My hands found my face as I pulled the blanket to my eyes. All he could do was place two shaky fingers to his heart while blood trickled down his chin and his hand dropped from my face. He didn’t deserve this. _We _didn’t_ _deserve this. We could’ve had a family, a life.

Lynda rubbed my back and spoke meaningless apologies.

Nothing mattered anymore. He was gone. I had no one. He was my everything. What do you do when you’ve lost everything?—something you’re incapable of gaining back no matter how desperately you try?

Dane didn’t want to go. He wasn’t ready to die. The look of pure shock in his watery eyes was almost too harsh an image to bear. Imagine dying with the uncertainty of knowing if your love will make it out alive? If you’d done enough? It hurt more that I had made it out. A part of me wished I’d died with him.

I looked back up to the kind nurse who was trying her best not to lose her composure. “What about the rest of them?” It was a question I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

“Mrs. Fossey, I don’t think—”

“Please. Your protecting me won’t heal me,” I say quite bluntly.

She bit her lip and frowned. “There were about six-hundred of you left, ma’am,” she paused. “—sixty-one made it out.”

I would’ve cried right then. I should’ve. But I couldn’t. It was such a shock all I could do was stare at the nurse in utter disbelief . . .