A/N: Combat Hospital belongs to its respective owners. I'm just taking the characters out to play. This little snippet is in preparation for S1, E13 "Do No Harm." When this was written it had not aired, so I am just anticipating how Simon might feel about Rebecca being in such a situation. I'm still holding out hope for another season, and much more sailing of a Simon/Rebecca ship.


You're the reason that I breathe.
I want you to know that.
If you were to leave, then I couldn't go back.
My life will be incomplete without you here.

Breathe, Lee Carr

Simon stood in the pounding sun, long fingers tightening as his fist clenched. Tighten. Clench. Tighten. Clench. He worked his breath in and out slowly, calming his fear.


Many minutes passed since they'd gotten the call. Still several more would pass before the ambulances would arrive. Minutes crawled like hours. And they waited. Tighten. Clench. Breathe. Tighten. Clench. Breathe.

It was silent except for the sound of windblown sand hitting the plywood walls of Role 3. He wasn't alone, standing in the dust. It was all hands on deck this time. The faces were all stoic, eyes forward, watching the sandy road where the trucks would bring the wounded, answering the as yet unanswered questions: Were their friends alive? Were they injured?


No one knew. There were casualties at the women's clinic. Both Pedersen and Rebecca had been there, but so far, there was no information as to who was hurt. All they knew was there were a lot of women and children on their way in. Tighten. Clench. Breathe. Tighten. Clench. Breathe.

The slow rumble of the trucks slowly filled the air and Simon could feel his muscles begin to twitch. He wanted to move, needed to move, but was frozen to the spot.


His mind couldn't go to the 'What If?' scenarios. He was barely able to breathe as it was. The approaching green ambulances turned into dark watery blurs as he stared unblinking, lost in dread. Tighten. Clench. Breathe. Tighten. Clench. Breathe.

The doors popped open and Colonel Marks rushed to the first one, quickly assessing who was inside. Apparently not finding either Rebecca or Pedersen, he rushed to the other truck just as Rebecca jumped out covered in blood.

Simon gasped as he took in Rebecca's blood spattered face and clothing. Marks had her by the arm, and she was gesturing to him and shaking her head, but Simon couldn't make out the words through the blood pounding in his ears. He watched her lips move as she more adamantly shook Marks' away.

"The blood isn't mine!" he heard her cry. She reached back into the ambulance as someone grabbed for a stretcher and he heard "…Grace…."

As Marks' head bent over Grace's unconscious body on the stretcher, Rebecca's eyes sought Simon's through the rush of bodies between them. Their eyes met.


It was just a moment, but in that moment he felt the roaring in his ears ceased and the tension release from his body. He grabbed at a breath he didn't know he needed.


With a quick nod of his head, he broke the eye contact and joined her in the chaos of their lives together. She was alright. She was safe. She was home.