𝑽𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑳𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒔

James and Kim walked past him. "Hey, Dauphiné. We'll see you soon."

François was stitching a soldier's arm. "Where are you going?"

"The battle. It's today."

"Shit, I completely forgot. Be safe."

"Thanks." James slapped his calf as they walked outside. "God, my fucking leg. It's been hurting for a week straight."

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François fell asleep before they came back. Suddenly, someone slapped him across the face so hard he fell off the chair he was on. Before he could yell, the person shoved medical tools in his hands and ordered him into a room. Fuzzy, the chaos of the injured and the bitter loss of the battle woke him up. He ran in and closed the door.

"François, man, you need to help me. I can't...I can't feel my leg anymore..." He jumped when he heard James' quivering voice.

He looked at him, then he looked down. He only had one hand. He only had half his left leg. He was covered in blood. He looked so pale.

The door slammed and screaming deafen him. Lloyd rushed past him to comfort James and tried to clean up the blood with his fingers. François snapped out of it and sprung into action. Kim ran in shortly after, shouting something in Korean, holding the rest of James' leg in his shaking hands. He threw up and passed out when he saw Kim slip in blood, his blood, and drop his leg.

Lloyd tried in a desperate attempt to shove the leg back. "IT'S NOT GOING BACK! FRANÇOIS, DO SOMETHING!" He jammed it so hard a splatter of blood painted his face.

His blue eyes widen. "STOP THAT!" He grabbed the leg. "LET GO!"

"NO! WE CAN FIX IT!"

They played tug-of-war. François knew it was a lost cause, Lloyd didn't. The foot of the leg was hanging on by a vein and two toes were missing. Kim had to grab it from both of them and throw it somewhere neither of them could see. A lady screamed when it landed in her room.

"YOU STUPID PRICK!" They both turned to Lloyd. He never spoke to Kim in English nor yelled at him. "LOOK WHAT YOU DID!"

François shouted at him to calm down and give him a blood transfusion as he told Lloyd to stitch up the wound on his arm. He was the verge of fainting. Kim had to shake him so he would stay awake.

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The following evening, James was awake. Lloyd didn't leave him for that night, constantly making the nurses check if he were still breathing. White told him that James was going home. He couldn't fight anymore, let alone walk. He didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. The minute he turned his back, they took him away. James, his head full of delusions, silently wept when he brought on the plane back to Vagu.

Kim and François were there when he left. They both held their breath before turning to face Lloyd. They expected tears and screaming. He was stone-faced.

"Lloyd...?" François touched his shoulder. There was no life in his face. "Lloyd..."

They both stared at him, then each other. The fear in their eyes confirmed what the other was thinking. This was worse than any other reaction he could've had. Lloyd walked away. Kim almost followed him but stopped himself. Maybe he needed a minute.

One minute. Two minutes. One hour. Two hours. Three hours. Six hours.

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It was dark by the time Kim and François decided to drive around to look for him. They were in silent panic, driving so recklessly that they almost crashed into a tree.