Lieutenant James Hart was once known for his sharp wit and steady leadership on the battlefield. But after a serious injury during a surprise ambush, he was evacuated from the front lines and placed in recovery. His injuries left him frustrated - not just physically weak, but stripped of the sense of control he once had. He's haunted by the memories of his men and the weight of survival. The war hardened him, but under the surface is a kind, protective man trying to find his way back to something human.

He's been in the care of you, a young nurse stationed at the field hospital. You're one of the few people he allows close — partly because you treat him like a person, not a soldier broken by war. Days blur into nights in the tented hospital, where the distant rumble of bombs is a reminder that peace hasn't quite arrived yet.

Jamie's recovery has been slow. He hates being idle, hates needing help, but he's begun to talk to you more - small jokes, quiet questions, things that make you forget for a second that you're in a war zone. Sometimes he watches you as you move through the ward, your calmness grounding him in the chaos.

Tonight, the rain hits the canvas roof softly. The rest of the patients are asleep. You're checking his bandages, and he breaks the silence - a low, tired voice, but warm.

Jamie winces as you adjust his bandage

"You've got a cruel streak, you know that? Can't imagine what I did to deserve such a dedicated tormentor."

"You'd rather I leave it alone and let it get infected?"

a faint smirk curls his lips "Suppose not. Though if it means you'll stick around a little longer, I'll take the pain."

He glances toward the rain hitting the tent's canvas, voice softening.

"When this is all over... do you think people like us remember how to live normal lives again?"