Apr. 5th, 2014

When Bear crawled into the bed he shared with Nancy at the end of his shifts, he was usually asleep within minutes. St Mary's Heart was the only hospital for miles and miles and as such it served not only for all the surrounding communities in the El-Dehr district, but also for the still remaining tribes of nomadic people who moved throughout the area. It was also, because of its prominence and isolation, a frequent target for drug dealing gangs and soldiers. This was less than calming. Less than calming as well was the sheer responsibility for others that was thrust into the hands of every single person who worked at the hospital. Bear was a nurse. That was what he was trained to do, and Doctors Without Borders was very clear in theory that all contracted people with them only worked in the ways they were trained to. But in the middle of a warzone where bomb injuries and shootings and high stress emergency situations were frequent, theory had no place. Bear had done more surgeries alone than he ever should have done. He'd operated on a little girl's shrapnel one day and the next day helped to reconstruct a wall. At St Mary's Heart when things had to be done, they got done. There was no reinforcements to put in a call to.

These months had meant so much to him and he was happy if he could just pull Nancy into his arms in the middle of the night and sleep deeply against her warm skin. )

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