Eyes As Blue As The Ocean | Collins (Dunkirk)

Just Beginning

8.

THE train slid in the train station with a loud hiss.

Amelia watched as Murphy disappeared into a train, he looked back at Amelia, a hopeful smile and a a slight tip of his head.

They switched addresses and promised to keep contact, the Dawsons and George said their goodbyes and headed home.

Jack and Amelia remained on the platform, she wrapped her arms around herself, knowing they would soon part.

"So this is goodbye." Amelia lifted her shoulders, she felt a pang of sadness but it quickly vanished when he cocked his head and his lip quirked up.

"For now, at least."

☁☁☁

Goodbye.

It has been a week since Jack held Amelia in his arms and kissed her farewell.

The cavity in Amelia's chest yawned, stretching until she felt empty as she stared at the flayed flesh, her eyes empty, staring at the incision, the scream of the soldier drowned out by the buzzing silence of loneliness in her ears.

She heard a blood chilling snap– she assumed a femur, from across the cot, she sniffled, her attention returning to the the shrapnel lodged on the shoulder blade, she took toothed forceps from the metal tray and gently plucked out the shrapnel, tendrils of muscle began tearing at the process, she shuddered, her eyes prickling– not from the sight, but at the stinging smell of antiseptic, she fought down revulsion as blood seeped down his chest.

"Amelia."

Amelia continued to stitch the skin, she massaged the man's neck with her thumb, calming down his sharp exhales and gasps, "A–Amelia."

She was instantly divorced from the overwhelming sadness when she looked at the man's face. He was barely recognizable, his face covered in muck and dried blood, his eye swollen and a healing gash travelled from the tip of his eyebrow to his cheek.

She let out a strangled gasp, her grip and focus slipping from the needle.

"Allen Murphy."

She snipped the thread and he took her in his arms as tears flowed down her cheeks, she wiped them away, in vain, blood smeared across her face as she repeatedly caressed his greasy tousled hair, burying her face in the entanglement that smelled of sweat and gas.

She didn't recognize him, but that glint in his eyes, it was her friend. She let out a strangled sob as tears dampened his collar, she knew it was physically and scientifically impossible, but she felt as if she was going to combust from an override of inconceivable emotions filling the null void in her chest. He chuckled. His chest vibrating against hers.

"It's nice to see you too."

Spent. Amelia gently laid him down, and grasped his hands, "Hi." She grinned, not knowing what else to say, tears still falling down her flushed cheeks.

Amelia began working again, this time in a hospital, surrounded by the wounded, she sought justice for them and those who died in the battle field by working tirelessly, her mind reeling back to Dunkirk and what the waves brought her.