Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Major Gilbert,

I’ve been in the hospital based in Enchaine for two months now. The Doctor is allowing me to write today.

He states that my skin is healing well, though I shouldn’t do much, in fear of aggravating it. But I must write this report, as you had ordered of me in the past.

I can still feel the pain. The heat of the blast against my skin. The taste of gunpowder still resides on my tongue.

I’ve told this to the nurses when they asked. They seem uncomfortable with my wounds. Their eyes refusing to meet my own, darting away from my gaze. I can see the moment when they see my wounds. Eyes widen, then they flinch, as if I had attacked them.

They always leave soon after; muttering about reports. But I know they don’t want to be in the same room as me. I am a reminder of the war. Of all the pain and torment, of dark times they wish to forget. The nurses hadn’t meant to tell me, Major.

They never liked to speak of the war. But I can hear their whispers as I lie awake at night; unable to sleep on the bed. Though they try to be quiet, with only my breathing to keep me company; it isn’t hard for me to hear their words.

We won the war, Major. I know, deep down, I didn’t need their confirmation. I can feel it. As if a weight has been lifted. However, it is nice to have the fact confirmed.

Your efforts weren’t in vain.

Violet

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Major Gilbert,

Today, I can smell the sea. Its salty scent riding the breeze, drifting in slowly through the open window above my head.

I had almost forgotten what the water smelt like. Tangy and sharp, briny. I didn’t remember at first, it had been so long. I had asked my nurse what the scent was. She hadn’t been able to hide the surprise that flickered across her face.

She asked if I had ever seen the Ocean.

When I told her that I didn't know what that word had meant, there was a brief flash upon her face. It darkened her eyes and marred her features. The emotion was brief, but still there. Smiling, she shook her head before taking the time to explain what the ocean is. 

Listening to her explain, I realize that I have seen it. It was where the Captain had first come across me.

I told her of how Captain Dietfried found me, what his men had tried to do to me. What I had done to survive. I could see the smile on her lips fade away. Her brown eyes, usually so bright, no matter if the sun were shining upon her, darkened as my words sunk in. For a moment, she seemed scared.

Did I do something wrong, Major?

Violet

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Major Gilbert,

It is raining today. The Doctor refuses to have the windows opened. The nurses seem surprised by the weather. They say it is an uncommon occurrence.

They had checked my wounds again this morning. Admittedly, it had stung as their cool fingers touched me. Even though I told them of it, they still smiled. Yet, the emotion didn’t quite reach their eyes. They told me everything was fine and not to worry.

In spite of their assurance, I couldn’t help but feel as if they were lying.

As I look out the window, my legs curled up under me, new prosthetic arms gleaming dully in filtered light, I wonder where you are, Major.

Do you see what I see? The clouds above, grey and thick as they block out the sun. Rain falling in heavy sheets and making the ground slick and sticky with mud. It’s cold in my empty room, the shadows dark and clinging as they linger in the corners.

Where are you, Major? Is it raining, wherever you are?

Violet

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Major Gilbert,

The sun is very warm today. I can’t help but to enjoy the heat. How the rays fall upon my face, a gentle warmth seeping into my skin. It is not something I’ve really felt before.

The Doctor once more allowed me outside, he said it would be best for me to get fresh air. He said he is worried of me breathing stagnant air.

I could feel the grass sway gently around my ankles. It is an odd, yet pleasant sensation. The blades are damp under my bare feet.

I can feel winter coming. Though the sun hasn’t lost its intensity in the past days, the air was cold this morning, bearing a bite to it; much like the freezing winds on the front line. Despite the frigid current, I welcomed the chill. It was a nice change from the heated, stifling air inside of my room.

As I enjoyed my time outside, I heard laughter. A sweet, happy sound drifting gently on the cold wind. When I looked towards the sound, I found the Head Nurse and the Doctor on the front porch. As I watched, the Nurse leaned in; hand blocking the tilt of her lips as she whispered into his ear, too quietly for me to hear. She must’ve said something pleasant, for he had laughed too; a low chuckle escaping his lips as a tint of red came to his cheeks.

The Nurse seemed pleased that he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

Watching them, I feel my chest warm, an unfamiliar emotion filling me. Despite the unusual sensation, I don’t think it is an unpleasant one.

Do you think Major, if we lived a different life; we would act much of the same way?

Violet

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Major Gilbert,

Colonel Hodgins came to visit me today. He said when the Doctor releases me, I am to come home with him. Is this true, Major? Where will you be, when I am to leave the Hospital? Will you be with him on that day?

Many days have passed by, I feel if it were not for these reports, I would have lost track of my time spent here. As I re-read drafts; I can’t help but wonder, are you reading these, Major? Though I wake up most mornings, wishing you were in the bed beside mine, I find myself relieved.

Despite my longing to see you. I know it means you have not suffered the same injuries I have.

Violet

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Major Gilbert,

Many of the nurses refuse to look at me anymore. Though they will complete their duty to tend to the injured, I can feel their desire to put distance between us. No longer do they soften their words when speaking of certain things. They do not hide behind their hands, nor do they allow their dark hair to act as curtains when they whisper of me. Even when the Doctor is near, they no longer curb their words when they know I can hear.

“She is a Monster.” They say, the barb biting into me as it drifts to my ears. “Nothing more than a tool.” Their words drip with disdain and loathing. Though they won’t meet my eye, I can still see theirs. I see the revulsion and the fear they hold of me.

One morning, when I had dared to ask a nurse what was wrong, she hesitated. Deliberating if she should even speak to me.

Finally, she deigned to answer. Her eyes met mine. Usually a beautiful, molten silver; in that moment, they were hardened into steel. “You are a weapon of war.”  The woman’s voice came out in a quiet hiss. “You, a monstrous tool, have spilt the blood of good people.” Then, she left; skirts rustling across the wooden floor.

I am left, Major, wondering about my time in battle. Was I not a good soldier? Following your orders and those of higher standing. Did I not do as I was told?

I can’t help but to remember your yelling, the night of Intense; hours before we went into the final battle. You had spoken of how you took me in, forged me into what I am today. My stomach twists as I remember the sorrow which filled your eyes, tears glistening at the corner of emerald; how your lip quivered as you breathed.

It is through your teachings Major, that I am able to understand as much as I am today. Though I have many things to learn; you still helped me. It is because of the actions you have taken for me that I am as I am today.

I’ve seen things many others haven’t; left with memories of dark, painful days. A being forged from experiences and learnings different from others, I may never be able to understand things as certain people do.

Knowing all of this, I am left with a single thought, one which tethers me to a sense of stability; I stand by what I said, Major, I need your orders to live. With them, I feel as if I can go anywhere.

Violet