viii. reunited

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JACK MOVED UP TO THE TOP DECK

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JACK MOVED UP TO THE TOP DECK. Louise remained below and gently shook George awake after him being asleep for a while now. George groaned weakly, causing Louise to sigh.

"Wake up, Georgie," Louise softly cooed, shaking his shoulder. "You doing alright, soldier?" George mumbled out a soft reply. Lousie smoothed down his unruly brown locks as she heard a loud bomb go off in the distance. "You stay put, alright, Georgie. I need you safe and sound," She moved upstairs and walked up to Jack. "What's happened?"

"One of our own has been hit," Jack spoke, turning towards Louise then up to the two rival planes in the air chasing each other.

Louise's gaze followed his. "Is that one of your mates up there?" Louise commented, pointing up to the Spitfire.

Jack nodded. "Name's Tom Farrier. An old friend of mine-" Jack was cut off by Peter shouting.

"There are men in the water!" The blond boy yelled, pointing towards the sinking vessel in the distance. As Mr Dawson got closer to the soldiers in the water, Jack, Louise and Peter made their way towards the edge of the boat, ready to pull as many soldiers as possible onto the deck.

The first man they helped up was covered head to toe in a thick black substance. "Oil," Jack commented. "Oil! You're getting into oil!" He shouted over to Mr Dawson. Peter and Jack continued to pull multiple men onto the boat as Louise passed them towels or blankets and directed them away from their section of the yacht. The nurse twisted her neck towards the shell-shocked soldier behind her that remained sat still.

"Murphy! Nows the time to prove yourself!" Louise called over to the older soldier. He looked up at her. He took in the blood and burns scattered over her body and decided it was the least he could do for everything he ha done to her. He pushed himself up from his seat, helping Jack and Peter hauling oil-drenched soldiers onto the boat.

Mr Dawson began to guide the masses of soldiers below deck. Peter rushed through the masses and moved downstairs, Louise following after him. "Woah! Woah! Careful! Careful down there!" Peter yelled down the steps.

A soldier with a Chesire accent drenched with oil who was kneeling beside George spoke. "He's dead, mate."

Tears welled in Louise's eyes. That was the first patient that she couldn't safe. And he was only 17 years old. He wasn't even a soldier - he was just a boy. A tear slipped down her face as Peter moved back upstairs. "Be careful with him, please," she looked at the soldier. The soldier gently covered George's face with his blanket before turning to the nurse in a hurry.

"Lou?"

Realisation shot through Louise's body as she processed his accent. "Alex?!" Louise whispered. Her cousin nodded, moving towards him. "Oh, fucking hell!" She laughed in relief, clutching him into a bone-crushing hug, tears slipping down her face. "I'm so fucking relieved you're safe, you numpty!" She cried into his shoulder. She didn't care at all that the front of her dress would be smeared in oil along with the blood and sweat that lingered under it.

"What you doing on here? Never in my life would I have pictured you on a boat in the middle of the ocean," Alex clutched the girl closer to his chest. "What happened to your neck and arms, aye?"

"My hospital ship got bombed. Those men up there saved me. One of 'em accidentally threw his tea on me. Got burnt," Louise whispered before pulling back from the embrace. "I've fucking missed you, numpty,"

"Missed you too, divvy," Alex chuckled.

"Louise!" Mr Dawson called out to her. Louise ran her thumb over Alex's cheek, wiping away some oil from his face.

"Coming!" Louise called back up. "Wipe some of the shit of your face. You won't get a girl looking like that," she softly chuckled, trying to lighten his mood. A few soldiers around them laughed lowly at her comment, including Alex. "See you later. Mind the boy for me, please," With that, she moved back upstairs. She saw Jack and Peter pulling up one more soldier from the ocean. She placed a blanket around his shoulder once he was one deck.

"Take me home," he spoke in a common London accent.

Louise helped him up and guided him downstairs. "Of course, love. You go get some rest down here, alright?" The soldier nodded tiredly and slowly descended the steps. Louise moved back upstairs and leant against the bannister beside Jack, letting out a heavy sigh.

Jack took in her oil-covered appearance. "You reunited with your husband, aye, Louise?" Jack teased softly, yet something in his voice held a hidden disappointment.

Louise laughed softly, looking down at her dress. "Nah. My cousin - like a brother to me, really."

Jack couldn't help the smile on his face but he still a nagging thought running around his head. "Ah. Are ye waiting for a lucky man, by any chance?" Jack asked, his head tilting to face her.

Louise turned to the pilot, a small smile resting over her plump lips. "And why would you like to know, ay, Mr Collins?"

Jack looked down at the rushing sea below him with a shrug and a smile. "A man can wonder, can't he?"

Louise laughed under her breath. "Well, I am not. I'm the only one in my family not married off," Louise mumbled. The nurse couldn't see but the smile that stretched across Jack's face was the size of the moon. "What about you? You have a girl waiting for you back home?" Louise diverted the question to the pilot.

"Me? Nah," Jack sighed. "Never been able to find the right girl. Plus, me mam never approves of any girls in my town," he laughed, remembering the lectures his mother would give him about women.

Louise smiled too. "Hope you find the right girl soon, Jack."

Jack eyed the girl beside him through his peripheral vision. "Yeah. I hope so too," he drawled out before settling into a comfortable silence with the shipwreck nurse.


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