Despite the look of it all, situations were actually not that bad.  Those who had charged into the trenches were not terribly wounded.  They were just shocked by the horrors of close combat, right after a similar blow inflicted by the initial charge into war and death itself.  Now, there was nothing small about that mental impact, but at least you were alive.  You were alive and you had to find some way to live with yourself.  Isaac tended to focus on his anger, tempered by years of being around wolves who channeled it naturally.  This was not where he belonged.  This was where he was forced to [i]be[/i], and that was a story similar with others.  How many of them were taken, not volunteered?  And how many out of the ones that DID volunteer [i]really[/i] knew what they were getting into?  Out of them all, Isaac and Britta were spared the up-close terror of real combat, thus far, because of their place in battle.  One day, that was going to change, or they were going to be surrounded with no cover, or finding a grenade incoming.  It was going to happen.  They were [i]trained[/i] to know that it was going to happen, just as everybody here was trained, as well.

Even still, the answers given on their current stannding were hopeful.  Quite a few of them had lived.

Isaac nodded quietly as the crazy girl - Still hadn't caught her name. - and Michael explained briefly.  The nod he gave was one of understanding, thanking them for putting up with this on top of stewing in their own remorse.  Jean had been overcooked, but a couple of others - Diana and their other Sapper - were getting through to him.  It was good, because it showed that the troope believed in him, believed he was worthy of them.  A Darcsen in the middle of war probably needed a bit of validation, to be honest, and it was obvious that Middleton wasn't gonna give him any.  Despite all things, though, Jean had Isaac's own respect.  He'd made it here, he'd broken through the fear barrier, he had a competent plan - Admittedly, it was one that [i]anyone[/i] could have come up with, but he shouted it first. - that got them up this hill - all things that deserved some notice.  He didn't deserve the crumbling pressure that came with it, though, and again Isaac wished he could have taken the brunt of that instead of him.

They might have to talk about that later, and maybe there'd even be time to address that [i]somewhere[/i], but not here and now.  The battle was over and they were all taking a rest to recover their senses, but...there was one more coming.

She arrived with very little warning, the pant of exhausted running having been the only sound before collapsing into the trench.  It had been right near where Isaac and Britta had come in.  She fell into the trench of Hill 58 with practically no energy left in her body, and so suddenly that everyone was surprised.  Jean jumped, Isaac flinched, Britta's eyes widened, and so on.  They all recognized her, immediately.  It was Private Lucia, the girl that Middleton had ordered to kill anyone who retreated to their own trenches, despite the fact that she was not in any way ready for that kind of order.  Several of them helped her to her feet, Britta being one of the ones asking why she was in a panic.  Isaac didn't need to ask.  He knew.

[color=f7941d][i]Good god, she had to do it...  She had to kill one of our own people, and just because they were afraid...[/i][/color]

Jean came up to her, trying to comfort the girl while Isaac thought of how he was going to deal with Middleton personally over this.  Of all the tales of 'They never deserved this' there might be, the tale of Lucia might be the most compelling.  It really didn't look that they were going to get through to her so easily, even though the crazy girl was not being particularly crazy at the moment, just offering her candy...  However, right now, Jean asked if he and Michael would take the young girl somewhere less horrible.  Not his words, just Isaac's own thoughts.  This spot was full of blood and corpses.  There had to be an emptier, quieter place for Lucia to be, and they would find it.

[color=f7941d]"I'm on it.  Britta, would you patrol, please?"[/color]

[b][color=ed1c24]"Yes, of course, Isaac."[/color][/b]

She understood that this was something he had to deal with and that the rest of them needed someone to keep an eye out on things while they all dealt with this trench.  In short, Britta would be making sure that there were no surprises in the area, and she would open fire on any that appeared.  With that, he and Michael would lead Private Lucia away from this scene as she silently despaired.  He quietly took her hand and helped her along the trench, keeping her steady if her exhaustion started kicking in.  Now, finding a suitable place was a little difficult because of the bodies, but Michael succeeded anyway, due to the nature of trench design.  You see, every now and then, these things bend, usually at harsh angles.  There are several reasons for this, but one of the big ones is that if a grenade or a mortor hits an area, the blastwave hits a corner and [i]stops[/i].  In a straight trench, an explosion will travel farther than the radius of the blast, but it doesn't do corners well, so this was implemented in order to save lives.  As a result, you have short areas like this one that exist between the straight ones.  Isaac let Lucia sit down, and he sat with her.  Unsure if Middleton even gave her a canteen, he pulled out his own and offered it.

[color=f7941d]"Right now, I guess you feel alone and terrified, but you're not alone.  We're your friends here, Lucia.  We care what happens to you, and we'll help you through it, I promise.  If there's anything you want or need to say, I won't judge you.  Neither will Michael.  None of us will.  We're all just trying to get through this war alive, so you can depend on us."[/color]

He hoped that somehow any of this was reaching her.  He wasn't sure if Jean had calmed her any or that she was even [i]listening[/i], but maybe...just maybe...something would break through.

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She wanted to keep moving, never have to stare into those eyes again.  Those eyes had been like her own: They were full of fear, and then they slowly drained of life as the rifle went off, until they saw nothing but her soul.  She had to get away from that, and so she made it all the up her, to Hill 58...but it wasn't far enough.  People - other troops - started asking her what was wrong, trying to steady her.  Words wouldn't come, only her tears.  The next thing she knew, there was warmth and a kind face...  Every motion, every inclination to run, just sort of quit when the Lance-Corporal held her and suggested someone take her somewhere to rest, while another cleaned her face.  For a moment, Lucia was just in shock at the sudden shift, at finding someone who [i]cared[/i].  Somewhere inside of her, this was registering, but it would take some time to process.

She was soon led away, taken somewhere quiet to rest.  She was with...names mentioned fluttered around inside of her, trying to find its way to a face...  Their eyes, all of them hurt like she'd been - that was clear - but when faced with her, they just...  [i]How could they look at her with such kindness?[/i]  The Lieutenant, her trainer, the other soldiers - all of them ranging from the stern to the indifferent.  The Lance-Corporal - that's who held her - asked the other one and a Sapper to take her to a cleaner part of the trench, let her rest, both of them going out of their way to help her.  She sat down, then, not aware until then just how tired she really was.  The other Lance sat nearby, offered her his water.  That, she needed.  Her throat was hoarse already.  Even as she did, though, Lucia felt the fatigue getting to her.  She shook her head weakly.

[color=A9FF7D][b]"No...no...I can't sleep...  Not now..."[/b][/color]

[color=f7941d]"Because you'll see it in your dreams?"[/color]

She looked at the Lance, just then, maybe a little shocked.  Could he read her mind?  Did he simply [i]know?[/i]  Yes...he [i]must[/i] have.  It was written on his face...  He knew everything she'd had to do, just by looking at her.  Lucia just nodded, on the verge of more tears.  The Lance-Corporal just looked at her with understanding eyes and placed his hand on her shoulder.

[color=f7941d]"It's okay.  You might have nightmares.  You might hurt for a long time.  We'll be here."[/color]

This was what made Lucia want - more than anything else - to be sure that these people survived.  And only then, after she knew that there was anybody at all that cared about her plight, did she finally allow sleep.