Danger was something many doctors weren't expecting to experience. Why would they? Spending all those years in school, training to save lives in hospitals, Fareeha expected many to not want to work in hazardous conditions. The pay wasn't bad from what she'd heard. Spend a few years after training, and you could live a good life. Good house, financial security, the works. Sometimes she wondered what she'd be doing if she wasn't in the service. Start a family somewhere. Maybe go into engineering.

It was all moot now. She'd chosen her path. There was no going back.

When Angela gripped her hand for support, Fareeha frowned. Angela didn't belong here. There were so many places where she could've gone instead and had more of an impact. But she chose to come here. Fareeha squeezed Angela's hand back. Her frown turning into a pained smile.

"I tried to give you a chance to reconsider. When you first came." Trying to move, Fareeha grunted in pain. She laid back down. Her ribs alight with beautiful, cruel pain. "My ... ribs are broken. I would let you lie down, but ... I just can't, really, move."

Not taking her eyes off Angela for a moment, she looked at the woman's wounds. "You should have someone look at that. In the field, no wound's a small wound." Too many soldiers passed away from infection during the war. Not enough supplies were circulated. "I hope they're doing alright. The assault. I should be there."