Fandomweekly Challenge 172 - Summer fields
Apr. 1st, 2024 04:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: Summer fields
Fandom: Original
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 172 - Lost memories at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
Summary: War brings much heartache and sacrifice to those at the front.
‘Good afternoon, Captain Simpson,’ Nurse Dapp greeted her favourite patient, checking the bandages that covered his eyes, deeming them fit to remain another day.
‘And a good afternoon to you as well. I feared you had forgotten me.’
‘You are hardly forgettable, Captain.’ She’d once joked that he no doubt had a sweetheart back home worrying her head that she hadn’t heard from him for weeks. He smiled and told her that no, there was no one. He’d remember if he had a girl back home. You couldn't forget something like that.
‘You couldn't remember which football team you followed,’ she reminded him.
‘Okay, there are a few gaps in my knowledge. It was a terribly large shell that exploded near me. One can’t expect to remember everything after that.’
She’d offered to write home for him, but he declined. He didn’t wish to worry his parents. He may have looked like a monster with his bandaged face, yet he was anything but. He was kinder to her than most, but then again, he only had her voice and her disposition to inform his opinions.
‘You are easily the most charming creature in this entire hospital,’ he told her.
‘When you regain your sight, Captain, I assure you that you will find many here far more charming than me.’
‘Certainly none of the patients, or the doctors,’ he replied. ‘Not that it shall matter much unless God sees fit to grant me new eyes.’
She hated his jovial defeatism. It was bad enough that the doctor had said there was little chance that his surviving eye would ever see again. Still, she was glad that no one had told the Captain he would be blind for life. He was smart enough, or perhaps simply pragmatic enough, to understand for himself. It didn't stop her from insisting that he would recover his sight, even if his left eye socket would remain a stitched over depression in his face. It was all a military field hospital could do for him. At least he still had the rest of his face. She’s seen the horrors of men wounded by incendiaries, their cheeks missing, flesh gone all the way to the jawbone and teeth. Compared to those men, Captain Simpson was still regarded as handsome in her books.
‘Then perhaps I shall make a wager with you,’ she said, ‘Ten pounds that you should find no less than five nurses more attractive than me.’
He laughed at her suggestion. ‘How dare you suggest I should steal a month’s wages from you! What kind of a man would that make me? A cripple and a thief. If not a wager, then a walk,’ the Captain insisted. ‘Fresh air is good for the constitution and this bed is simply murder.’
‘Very well, then.’ She reached to help him from the bed when a hand tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Letter for you, Molly.’
‘Thank you.’ She slipped a finger until the dot of glue, unfolding it to read the brief message.
‘News from home?’ The captain asked, listening to the sound of paper unfurled and read in silence.
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘Good news, I trust?’
She nodded, though he couldn’t see it. ‘Indeed.’
Outside the sun shone on a rare bright summer day, warming their faces. But for the drab grey tents and the stream of military vehicles that growled their way around, the rolling yellow fields would have been otherwise bucolic.
‘Describe them for me,’ Captain Simpson implored her, hanging on her every word as she painted a picture for him, erasing all the ugly parts of it as he leaned into her side, and used his cane to prop himself up on his left. His movement was assured despite his lack of sight. He didn’t hesitate or flinch as she guided them around, trusting that she would not lead him onto unsteady ground.
‘I shall be sad to see you go when your transfer papers are finalised,’ she said.
‘And I shall not,’ he replied, feeling the way her arms tensed in its loop around his. ‘Forgive me, I meant not to offend you. I only meant that whilst you are a nurse and I am your patient then we must observe the niceties. Once I am released from your care, that changes things.’ There was a pregnant pause. ‘Not that I do not desire you to care for me.’
‘They will be far better equipped to assist your recovery back home,’ she replied.
He stopped and turned to come to stand in front of her, taking her hand in his. ‘Let me speak plainly, then. I wish for you to come home when your posting is finished. I know I have little to offer you, but I have the love in my heart, and I hope that should be enough.’
She squeezed his hand back in a reassuring gesture. ‘I promise I shall write you as soon as you are back in England.’
‘That would make me very happy indeed, counting down the days.’
They continued their lap of the tents, finally arriving back when they'd begun, as the evening shift nurse helped him back into the bed.
‘Thank you again for the walk this afternoon. Pleasant dreams of golden summer fields will follow me in my dreams and all the way back home.’
‘Something lovely to remember this place by,’ she replied.
As she turned and left to return to the nurses barracks she slipped her hand inside her front apron pocket and clenched painfully at the letter tucked inside. The letter that she'd written to Captain Simpson’s family that had finally garnered a reply, confirming they were relieved to hear he was alive, and that his fiancé thanked her profusely for the care shown towards her beloved and that she would think of nothing else until he returned home safe, hoping that one day, she might meet in person the sweet woman who brought her future husband back home to her.
Fandom: Original
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 172 - Lost memories at
fandomweeklySummary: War brings much heartache and sacrifice to those at the front.
‘Good afternoon, Captain Simpson,’ Nurse Dapp greeted her favourite patient, checking the bandages that covered his eyes, deeming them fit to remain another day.
‘And a good afternoon to you as well. I feared you had forgotten me.’
‘You are hardly forgettable, Captain.’ She’d once joked that he no doubt had a sweetheart back home worrying her head that she hadn’t heard from him for weeks. He smiled and told her that no, there was no one. He’d remember if he had a girl back home. You couldn't forget something like that.
‘You couldn't remember which football team you followed,’ she reminded him.
‘Okay, there are a few gaps in my knowledge. It was a terribly large shell that exploded near me. One can’t expect to remember everything after that.’
She’d offered to write home for him, but he declined. He didn’t wish to worry his parents. He may have looked like a monster with his bandaged face, yet he was anything but. He was kinder to her than most, but then again, he only had her voice and her disposition to inform his opinions.
‘You are easily the most charming creature in this entire hospital,’ he told her.
‘When you regain your sight, Captain, I assure you that you will find many here far more charming than me.’
‘Certainly none of the patients, or the doctors,’ he replied. ‘Not that it shall matter much unless God sees fit to grant me new eyes.’
She hated his jovial defeatism. It was bad enough that the doctor had said there was little chance that his surviving eye would ever see again. Still, she was glad that no one had told the Captain he would be blind for life. He was smart enough, or perhaps simply pragmatic enough, to understand for himself. It didn't stop her from insisting that he would recover his sight, even if his left eye socket would remain a stitched over depression in his face. It was all a military field hospital could do for him. At least he still had the rest of his face. She’s seen the horrors of men wounded by incendiaries, their cheeks missing, flesh gone all the way to the jawbone and teeth. Compared to those men, Captain Simpson was still regarded as handsome in her books.
‘Then perhaps I shall make a wager with you,’ she said, ‘Ten pounds that you should find no less than five nurses more attractive than me.’
He laughed at her suggestion. ‘How dare you suggest I should steal a month’s wages from you! What kind of a man would that make me? A cripple and a thief. If not a wager, then a walk,’ the Captain insisted. ‘Fresh air is good for the constitution and this bed is simply murder.’
‘Very well, then.’ She reached to help him from the bed when a hand tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Letter for you, Molly.’
‘Thank you.’ She slipped a finger until the dot of glue, unfolding it to read the brief message.
‘News from home?’ The captain asked, listening to the sound of paper unfurled and read in silence.
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘Good news, I trust?’
She nodded, though he couldn’t see it. ‘Indeed.’
Outside the sun shone on a rare bright summer day, warming their faces. But for the drab grey tents and the stream of military vehicles that growled their way around, the rolling yellow fields would have been otherwise bucolic.
‘Describe them for me,’ Captain Simpson implored her, hanging on her every word as she painted a picture for him, erasing all the ugly parts of it as he leaned into her side, and used his cane to prop himself up on his left. His movement was assured despite his lack of sight. He didn’t hesitate or flinch as she guided them around, trusting that she would not lead him onto unsteady ground.
‘I shall be sad to see you go when your transfer papers are finalised,’ she said.
‘And I shall not,’ he replied, feeling the way her arms tensed in its loop around his. ‘Forgive me, I meant not to offend you. I only meant that whilst you are a nurse and I am your patient then we must observe the niceties. Once I am released from your care, that changes things.’ There was a pregnant pause. ‘Not that I do not desire you to care for me.’
‘They will be far better equipped to assist your recovery back home,’ she replied.
He stopped and turned to come to stand in front of her, taking her hand in his. ‘Let me speak plainly, then. I wish for you to come home when your posting is finished. I know I have little to offer you, but I have the love in my heart, and I hope that should be enough.’
She squeezed his hand back in a reassuring gesture. ‘I promise I shall write you as soon as you are back in England.’
‘That would make me very happy indeed, counting down the days.’
They continued their lap of the tents, finally arriving back when they'd begun, as the evening shift nurse helped him back into the bed.
‘Thank you again for the walk this afternoon. Pleasant dreams of golden summer fields will follow me in my dreams and all the way back home.’
‘Something lovely to remember this place by,’ she replied.
As she turned and left to return to the nurses barracks she slipped her hand inside her front apron pocket and clenched painfully at the letter tucked inside. The letter that she'd written to Captain Simpson’s family that had finally garnered a reply, confirming they were relieved to hear he was alive, and that his fiancé thanked her profusely for the care shown towards her beloved and that she would think of nothing else until he returned home safe, hoping that one day, she might meet in person the sweet woman who brought her future husband back home to her.
