"Nah, I just turned twenty and some recruits(?) came to town and I joined." He shrugged.

"Ah." Philip nodded, understanding. "I've been involved the whole time, since 1914."

Raphael whistled lowly, "You must be good."

"I suppose I am," Philip replied, "Certainly have been doing this for long enough."

Just then Quiltamirra Gold came over to them a nasty smirk on her pretty face. "Hello doc," he said, balancing her supplies in one hand.

Philip turned around and smiled at her. "How's it going Quill?"

"Better then it's about to do for you," she snapped, dropping the supplies on the doctor's head, being sure to smash most of on his wound. "That's for yelling at me for how I treat Abby."

Spinning on her heel, Quill walked away as Philip's hand went up to his head in shook before his face lost all it's cover and he fainted on the floor.

((Hehe, I love char torture. XD))

The soilder picked up Philip and set him on the cot. "Well, that was unexpected."

Philip's eyes flickered open again. "Quill," he muttered, "Has a problem controlling her temper."

He sat up and winced, his hand flying to his head.

Raphael grunted, "I see."

A slight smile crossed Philip's face as he sat up all the way and reached for some clean bandages next to the bed. "She picks fights with the other nurses," he explained, "Guess this is her way of thinking me for trying to stop it."

He chuckled despite the pain and eased the bloodstained bandage from his head, trying not to wince.

Raphael nodded.

"I need a mirror," Philip muttered to himself, looking at the table next to the bed and holding a piece of cloth to his wound at the same time, "So that I can see what I'm doing..."

Raphael grunted and sat down. Abby woke up and turned her head to see Philip.

Philip smiled in Abby's direction and walked over to another table to find a mirror. When he found one he positioned it on the table and started rubbing ointment into his wound.

Abby smiled back and pushed herself up with her elbows.

When he finished working on his wound Philip walked over and knelt by her side. "How are you feeling love?"

"I'd say great but I'd be lying, but compared to yesterday...wonderful." She smiled. "How's your head?"

"Better." Philip smiled and took her hand. "I mean, not prefect, I still get dizzy if I'm not careful but nothing I can't handle."

She sighed and stroked his cheek with her finger.

Philip reached up and took her hand in his, rubbing it gently inbetween his fingers. "I love you Abby," he said, "You scared me alot yesterday."

"I thought you were going to die, I had to get you off of me." She smiled softly, "Oh and I love you too."

"I'd rather have died then watch you die," Philip told her, "So I had to try and protect you. Do you know how hard it would on me if I lost you?"

"But I lived, I'm not so sure you would have." Sh whispered.

Philip sighed. "That's a chance I'd have been willing to take, I'd do anything for you."

She sighed not knowing wheather to be grateful or angry.

"But we both are alive," he said, "I'll just be grateful for that."

She smiled, "So am I."

Philip leaned over and kissed her lips, careful not to hurt her.

She kissed him back.

"Am I hurting you?" he mumbled.

"No." She replied.

"Good." Philip kept kissing her.

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