His Own

Trigger warning: Blood, pain, disembodiment and psychopathy.

After that whole ordeal, Rosalind made her way to the camp and bumped into Titus and General Mattes. They were as tired as anyone would be, and yet no proper plan could be made, frustrating them to no end.

"There's just something we may be missing."

"I'll keep looking."

"You'd better. They could reach here any day now and it will be like we are ambushed again, just we can see it coming this time."

Titus spotted her first and gave her a small smile. General Mattes was louder and more expressive, he scolded her for being out alone at this time of the morning and also asked if she felt cold. It was a mixture of different types of concern.

"I'm fine. I just needed a little walk and the cold air is doing wonders for me." Rosalind tried to reassure him.

However, Titus still took off his coat and wrapped her in it. She gave him a thankful smile.

"Well, at least you're ok. I will be off to my tent now. Don't you two lovebirds be out too late. We still have another day ahead of us." With a wink he disappeared.

Awkwardly standing there, Rosalind's cheeks felt hot and Titus cleared his throat.

"What are you doing out here, Rosalind?" He finally asked.

"Just going out of a walk. I need to clear my head." She held the coat close to her, more so for comfort and for warmth.

Ever since that day, she has been unreasonably drawn towards heat, something that never happened in the past. But this worked out well because Titus is always unreasonably hot.

"Then, would you like to take a walk with me?"

She giggled, "Of course."

They walked back the way she came, as Rosalind talked to Titus about her future plans for her garden and life once this is all over.

They walked past the place where the soldiers were guarding the man, but she was so engrossed in her talking that she didn't notice them. However, Titus gave a curious glance at the animosity coming from the cage.

When they passed the place, Rosalind asked him, "Could you tell me what happened in the ambush?"

Titus stopped in his tracks. "Why would you want to know? You do know that nothing will change even if you know."

"I know." She also stopped walking, only a little ahead of him.

"Then?"

" . . . I want you to talk to me and I know that the ambush is something always on your mind. So tell me, maybe you will find some clues, patterns(?) from retracing what happened."

"Rosalind." He sighed.

"I am not a fragile as you think I am. I don't know what happened that night but ever since that day, you've been treating me like I'm made of glass. I have taken a lot already."

He looked at her with a painful expression that even hurted her.

"I will not be the one that adds more to you're already piling plate and . . . stop trying to fix everything, Rosalind. I'll see you to your tent."

He began walking and Rosalind reluctantly followed. Once they reached the tent, she gave him back his coat and he walked away. Not another word was exchanged between them.

She laid on her bed, but sleep was far from her as her mind wondered. He always looked so nervous around her, always second guessing himself and not letting her exert herself too much and all this happened after that day.

If Adriel was here, she could have asked him but he was nowhere to be seen and she is just left in the dark. Every time her mind wondered, she would arrive at the same place; dark, empty, loneliness."

Her thoughts drifted to the man in the cage. Maybe what she said was too harsh, after all most soldiers are just obeying orders. But he did say that he is responsible for the ambush. His wounds looked bad though.

Her hands. They stopped shaking as much but still don't have as much strength as she used to. She couldn't even carry a tray in her hands for more than a specific amount of time, otherwise all the strength leaves her hands and she drops everything to the ground.

The sterilised tools needed to be re-sterilised again and time, the one thing they do not have, is just wasted. She began to question whether she really is useful anymore.

The golden steaks in her hair tell her that she succeeded in gaining the knowledge but because of the method she used, she got only a fraction of what she should have gotten and now, it's all that she is.

She worried that if she ever lost this, she would lose her use because her knowledge is the only thing they keep asking from her. Her skills were just there. She is nothing compared to all the other doctors and nurses.

Her thoughts plagued her until the sun rose, not not getting an ounce of rest. But she went anyway and to cover for Ralph's shift.

He also was looking better than the day she saw him in Titus's tent and he was still as friendly as ever.

She asked him several times about what happened that day but he also doesn't really have a clear idea. Because of how hectic it was and how fast he fell asleep, his memory of the incident was fuzzy.

"I think you had really high fever? I remember making a fire and bring hot water to you, and dabbing your head with a wet cloth. You should really take care of yourself, Rosalind. Titus was so worried, I thought he was also going to collapse." He laughed. "I remember worrying if I will have to take care of him too."

Rosalind felt more confused than ever, but once she started her work, all the thoughts that plagued her vanished. At the moment, her patients are her main priority and she welcomed the distraction.

--------------------------

Louis asked Rosalind to get some supplies from the the other side of the camp, where they kept all the medical supplies, which means she has to pass the prisoner's cage again.

Walking to the place, she met the guards running in her direction and panicking.

"Nurse!" One of them shouted, coming to a stop in front of her.

"What's wrong?"

"The man is bleeding crazily from his head."

"What?! Why? How?"

"We don't know. He started smashing his head against the cage and fell, blood is everywhere."

"Ok. Go get one of the doctors, I'll go and check on him. Hurry!"

Rosalind ran to the place where the man was kept and sure enough, he laid in the cage, covered in blood, looking like he was having a seizure.

She pulled him out of the cage and inspected his body. Blood flowed from his head where he most likely smashed his skull into.

"His convulsing is most likely because of the head trauma. Why did he do this?"

She tore a piece of her dress and covered up the wound on his head. Luckily, she carried a small bag around her waist with emergency medical tools. She looked into her bag, rummaging through the little tools, her hand falling on the dagger the Major had given her as he grabbed her gloved hand, biting onto her fingers.

"Wha-"

She felt pain shooting up her arms as he continued to sink his teeth into her fingers. She screamed, trying to wriggle him off her.

"Rosalind!"

Grabbing the dagger from her pocket, she slashed him across the face. Surprised, he suddenly bit down hard on her ring-finger, ripping it off her hand in a flow of blood.

Rosalind got up quickly, falling back down again and standing up again, backing away from the man as she grabbed her hand, hearing a sickening crunch as he chewed, blood flowed out of his mouth.

"Rosalind."

She collapsed into Vincent who grabbed her before she could fall to the ground. The soldiers grabbed the man who was laughing manically at her. He looked at her with a knowing look, frowning at Vincent.

The cloth she used to wrap around his head fell, and the wound was all healed up.

Rosalind's eyes widened with surprise, she never healed him. How did that happen??

"Were you pretending to be injured the entire time?"

"Get back in there."

They shoved him back inside the cage, slamming it shut.

"Are you ok nurse?"

"Rosalind?"

All their voices drowned out the roaring in her ears and the the pain. She breathed heavily as they stared at each other, he licked the blood off his lips and snickered at her.

Rosalind saw everything around her spin as Vincent picked her up and carried her to the tent with the medical supplies, the place where she was making her way to.

Placing her on top of a crate, he took out the first aid kit and walked back to her.

"Rosalind. Your hand. It's bleeding too much."

Rosalind hid her hands in her apron, blood seeped through the white cloth. She shook her head.

He crouched to be eye level to her and smiled kindly. "Don't worry it's not going to hurt, much. I am an expert, if my diploma has anything to say about it anyway."

"That's not it, Vincent. I know you're skills are unmatched."

"Then ?"

" . . . I have a secret. Bad luck seems to follow me because of this. I don't know . . . you might become affected if you know about this too. It even sounds very far-fetched to me."

"Oh come on now. Things like luck don't exist, it's just hard work and persistence. Now show me."

Rosalind shook her head, burying her hands deeper in her apron pocket.

Sighing Vincent reached into his shirt pocket, taking out a ring.

"Remember this?"

"Isn't that the ring I have you and Ralph for-"

"-for good luck? Yes. Though I do not believe in things like that, having this ring with me will put you at ease, right?" He smiled and put the ring on his finger, showing it to her.

". . . I guess."

"Excellent. Now give me your hand. We wouldn't want your fiancée to see an infected wound, now would we?"

"No . . . Ok, but promised me, that you'll be careful."

"Of course my dear."

As was Rosalind taking her gloves off, Vincent couldn't help but remark, "Why do you always wear gloves? It's almost like you have something to hi- oh."

He looked at her blackened hands with as much surprise and Rosalind had. The black had reached upto her elbows and she was having a panic attack looking at how far her hands had blackened.

Blood from her missing ring finger ran down her arm. The red and the black made a strange contrast as tears blurred her vision.

"Rosalind. Are you sick? And . . . did he bite your finger off?" Vincent asked, genuinely concerned for her wellbeing. He didn't know what to react to, her missing finger or her blackened hands.

Rosalind feverishly shook her head. "I know I'm not sick. It's the only thing I know. And . . . yes. I believe he ate my finger too."

"That doesn't explain why your skin is turning black. And he what?!?!?!" He stood up, frustrated. "Ok. Ok. First things first. We have to take care of your . . . finger."

He wore the glasses hanging in his pocket and took out cotton from the first aid box, dousing it in alcohol. He passed her a cloth.

"This is going to hurt. Brace yourself. Bite into this, you might accidentally bite your tongue off if you don't."

As the place the cotton on her hand, the adrenaline that was there before, numbing the pains in her body, disappeared and all that was left was the excruciating pain.

She gripped the sides of the box, falling forward onto her lap. Muffled shouts came out as tears rolled down her eyes. She felt her head get woozy as spots filled her vision.

"Rosalind!"

Titus's voice rang all around her as she tried to sit back upright. He was by her side in no time helping to hold her up.

"It's ok. It's ok." He said over and over and over.

Through sheer willpower she did not allow herself to faint. Not this time. She gripped onto Titus, maybe a little too hard but she didn't know.

Gallons of tears and stitches later, Rosalind laid against Titus's chest, hiccuping and breathing raggedly. She was extremely exhausted, even Titus and Vincent's voices sounded like they were underwater.

She tapped on his chest, drawing his attention to her. "H-how did I do?" She looked up at him, flashing a tired smile.

"You did great." He smiled back at her, kissing her forehead.

"Told you I could take it." She laughed weakly.

"Yeah. I apologise for underestimating you."

"Sir!" She heard mens voices as they entered the tent.

"Weelll?" Titus's chest vibrated with each syllable.

"He's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Titus's voice was low but his body became tense.

"Don't be mad, Titus. It's not good for you." She mumbled, patting his back with her good hand. "There. There."

"I'm not mad, sweetheart. Don't worry." He patted her head and turned back to the men, "Anything else?"