1916, France.

During a practice solo flight, Blaine had lost control of the aircraft while trying to land it. The plane landed at the wrong angle which caused a rough landing. His head was injured with a small cut, and his leg was bleeding.

Blaine was knocked out for an hour, waking up on the mattress of a bed. It was a nearby farmhouse, which had many rooms where the French women looked after the pilots, like nurses.

You were sat next to Blaine, holding a damp cloth in your hand with a bandage, your eyes wandering over his body. Blaine looked up at you, slightly startled but gave a soft smile. “Where am I?”