Timeless

Chapter 23

A/N: Same rules as last time apply here!

The first thing that Kathryn Egan was acutely aware of was the fact that her head was still ringing as though the alarm back on base was blaring. Every moment of trying to open her eyes felt like she was swimming through some sort of lead—and then she was aware of an unnatural burning sensation on her left shoulder and a pain in her jaw.

Forcing her eyes open, Kathryn was met with the sight of her own bare feet. For a moment, it was all she could do to just stare and wonder where the hell her shoes had ended up. They were covered in dirt and a thin trail of red ran down the sides of her legs and it was when she shifted that Kathryn couldn't help the wince of pain that spilled from her lips.

Because the fact of the matter was that she had cigarette burns up and down her inner-thighs and hips and chest—so any sort of movement and friction from her ripped skirt or torn shirt was just agony against those burns. She could barely bring herself to look down at her shoulder—

And a cry nearly tore out of her lips as she stared at the chunk of skin that was now missing from her shoulder. After she had stabbed Hausmann, things had gotten chaotic and confusing, too confusing for her to keep track of. He had shot at her and it had skimmed her shoulder—and now she had a flap of skin that seemed to have fused to her nurse's jacket and blood streaming down into her white shirt.

The sound of a gunshot made her flinch violently and Kathryn didn't get another chance to panic before someone else was being tossed into the ditch. And when she looked over, she realized that Rhoda was staring unmoving at her—eyes glazed over on the ground and her shirt was covered in crimson.

But the body that had been dropped was Dorothea—she had a bullet in her chest and her eyes were fluttering shut. And Kathryn moved so quietly and quickly, she almost prayed that she would get shot again so she wouldn't have to do anything else.

Screaming from up above and more gunshots—but Kathryn's gaze had locked onto Dorothea. Dorothea, who was barely 20 and hadn't even lived her life yet. Dorothea, who had bruises up and down her neck and her shirt had been torn open in the same way that Kathryn's had. But Kathryn wasn't focused on that. She was just focused on her friend—her friend who she knew was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.

"I'm scared..." The words sounded barely above a whisper.

So Kathryn Egan, in all of her agony and pain—despite the fire that she felt still burning in between her legs, she moved to Dorothea Potter and she clasped her hand in hers. She held Dorothea to her and this time, she could not stop tears.

Dorothea rested her head against Kathryn's chest and Kathryn murmured a little song to her. Because what else was she supposed to do? Dorothea was slipping from this world and into the next. Kathryn Egan was a damn doctor and there was nothing she could do to save her. The bullet had pierced in between her ribs and she didn't have the equipment from up above. She didn't have any of it. And so when Dorothea Potter slipped from this world into the next, something died in Kathryn Egan.

And for a moment, staring at the dead bodies in that hole—her patients and her nurses: Rhoda, Charity, Evelyn, and now Dorothea—Kathryn knew what she needed to do. She quite truthfully wasn't sure where she found the strength to move. To do what she was doing. But she crossed over to one of the dead Allied soldiers and pulled his pistol from his body.

And just as one of the Germans returned and was throwing Inez into the hole—Kathryn Egan pulled her own trigger. She didn't miss, not like Hausmann had. No, her bullet struck him right in between the forehead and his look of surprised remained on his face as he landed in the hole—