I’m sorry, he mouthed, and then turned away, shaken by the thought that the artillery blast might have left him looking just as monstrous. He reached up and touched his face. His nose felt swollen and tender beneath his fingers, and a sticky trail of small, raised bumps ran across his forehead like tiny, crooked train tracks. He focused on the fuzzy silhouettes of nurses and doctors weaving between hospital beds, checking vitals and administering drugs in the form of pills and through syringes. His anxiety eased with the care with which the medics treated their patients. No matter where he was, he was in kind, capable hands.

A prism of soft light spilled through a window behind the soldier’s bed. He lifted his arm and watched the rainbow of colors glide across his hand, and a weak smile twitched on his lips. He didn’t know where he was or the extent of his injuries, but he did know one thing. He had crossed the dark abyss. He had survived no-man’s-land, and once he fully regained his sight, hearing, and strength, he would never have to step foot on another battlefield. He would keep his promise and return home to his family.

No longer able to hold up his arm, he let it fall to his chest. A nurse rushed over, her brow lined with concern. He studied her as she checked his forehead. Dark shadows, hollowed from endless hours of caring for the injured, outlined kind hazel eyes in a soft, pretty face. Long blond hair hid in the coil of a tight bun tucked beneath her white nurse’s cap. A few strands had fallen loose and hung down her slender neck in lazy curls. She smiled when she caught him staring. He knew he should look away. It was not polite to stare, but he couldn’t stop. He was desperate to memorize every line and curve of her face, hoping it would join the others in his sleep. Praying it would bring him comfort in his nightmares.

Her lips moved. He shook his head and pointed to his ears. Giving him an understanding pat on his shoulder, she took hold of his hand. He smiled, grateful for her kindness, but his smile fell when she reached for a needle. He shook his head.

“No!” The word clawed through his throat as he pulled his hand away. The nurse turned and called out to someone. Seconds later, a doctor grabbed hold of the soldier’s arm and pinned it down. The soldier struggled to pull free, but the doctor tightened his grip. The young soldier stared up at the nurse, his eyes begging her not to put him back to sleep. With a sympathetic smile, she pressed the needle into a vein in his arm and depressed the plunger.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three.

The morphine loosened fear’s grip on the soldier’s muscles and tugged at his eyelids, dragging him back into the darkness. At least this time, the soldier thought, I know I’m safe. Soon, I’ll be better, and they’ll let me go home to my family.