27 May; surgeon's wagon

Newbury didn't remember much of the journey from the roadside to the 60th's surgeon's wagon, but he certainly remembered being manhandled into the back of the wagon. The pain of that movement had cut through the hazy numbness that had settled over his brain. Had the surgeon given him laudanum? He couldn't recall.

"Rest now, for awhile," Mister Todd told him, his voice sounding disembodied and fuzzy. Rest. Aye. Newbury was not interested in much of anything else. His head wasn't hurting at that moment and neither was his knee or side. They all would later, but he didn't have the energy to think that far along.

Not long after, as soon as the surgeons had moved away, a slim gray form slipped through the shadow and darted up into the wagon. "Lummox," was all she said to the occupant before sliding in next to him like a spoon with a matching curve to comfort her own aching sides.

He became aware, distantly, of a strange new warmth beside him. Newbury cracked his eyes open but did not see anything different right away. Then his fuzzified brain cleared up a tiny bit and he realised that the warmth had spoken.

"Hallo," he said, his voice a trifle muddled. At least his tongue had stopped bleeding.

"Hmph," Jenny replied.

That was Jenny all right. More of the hazy cloud around his brain dissipated. Newbury found himself grinning, stupidly, even though it was only for a moment.

"Din't mean it," he rasped.

Jenny frowned, trying to think what he might be referring to. Probably his already feeble mind was further addled. "Big blunderbuss," she mumbled, wondering about the extra lump on his side. Poke. Oh. Bandages. That old pintuck again.

Ahhhow. Newbury blinked but did not feel more than a distant spike of pain. His mind was clearing though, however slowly.

"Back there," he said hoarsely. The guilt was beginning to take hold now. "Shoulda tried harder."

"No," she mumbled. "Shoulda stayed out."

Out? But that would've meant...

"Couldn't've done it."

"I woulda been fine."

Somehow, he managed to shake his head slightly, but winced at the quick flash of pain that danced through to the front of his skull.

"Not with them," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut again. There was no 'being fine' with those bastard provosts.

"Been fine before," she replied. "Always get along somehow."

"But that were..." no, idiot, "was diff'rent."

Or maybe it wasn't. He couldn't be sure. Weariness was creeping over him again, chasing hard on the heels of his growing clarity of thought.

She wondered again what he was talking about. But she was tired, and he was tired, and it was quiet and peaceful in the wagon. "Turned out all right though. In the end." And he deserved some gratitude, anyway. She would never have chosen to ask it of him, but through whatever misguided sense of chivalry he seemed to possess, he had taken those kicks and blows for her. "Thank you."

That was true. It had.

"Y'r welcome," he mumbled, blearily picking over the words. " 'M sorry for..." for what? "Bein' stupit."

Or something. His conscious mind was closing down, only too happy to give in to sleep. Newbury muttered something meant to be a good night and then was silent.

"Aye," she agreed. He did not speak again, and she soon fell asleep.

Some time later, Mister Todd returned from his dinner to check on his greenjacketed patient. To his surprise, he discovered two patients in the wagon. The unlucky woman who'd wandered off from that nasty little scene earlier had found her way to a place of safety after all. Good good, the surgeon thought.

He chuckled quietly after satisfying himself that both people were faring well enough, then moved on toward his bedroll. In a few hours, he would look in on them again.

After those few hours they were both still asleep, but one heavily and one lightly so. At the sound of someone looking into the wagon, Jenny awoke alert and defensive. She sat up and stared.

"Surgeon," Mister Todd said quietly, keeping his lantern low even though it was shuttered. "I am only passing by."

"You going to turn me out?" she asked warily, jumping straight to the point.

"Should I?"

Jenny was always generally alert, but rarely was she this tense. She felt herself coiled and coiled like an over-tightened spring. "I don't know," she answered abruptly.

Vickery needed to talk to both Newbury and Jenny, but seeing the surgeon standing by the wagon, he nearly walked away. Only this couldn't wait.

"Excuse me. Is it all right if I have a quick chat with Newbury?" He hoped Jenny was in there as well as he needed to see her, too.

Mister Todd smiled in the darkness. "You may remain as long as you wish," he told her. Certainly she was safest here, after all. The redcoat officer had been as good as his word. Some of his men - who were back with their own surgeon - had been detailed to keep guard around Todd's wagon.

He turned upon being addressed, but it was only the greenjacket officer. "Your fellow is still asleep, sir," Todd reported. "But his companion is awake."

Hell, that was Vickery's voice outside. Jenny looked over her shoulder to see if there was another door leading out. She shot the surgeon a significant look and shook her head. At least let her get away first.