Writing: Marks and Kelsey

   That's his last name and her first name, just FYI.
 
   Sergeant Alexander Marks and Kelsey Delanie aren't my oldest characters and nor are they my newest and to be honest, I can't recall even vaguely where the inspiration for them came from.

   The setting is a bit abstract, and I apologize for that. It's not on Earth, to the best of my knowledge, but the war that they're fighting is similar to our World Wars.

   The cuts from scribble to scribble may be a bit disjointing, something that I've never been very good at avoiding, but when I have a bit to write, I usually just write it and skip the in-between information.

   So. Onwards we go.


    Sergeant Alexander Marks tucked his helmet beneath his arm as he made his way through the bustling hospital, attempting to find the ward he’d been directed to. His steps were heavy as he rethought how he would inform the woman he sought of her loss.
     A sign read “Ward 3”, and after a moment he pushed the door open.
     All the beds within were full, the air heavy with various odors, the strongest of which was the sterilizer they probably used to clean everything.
    “Miss Kelsey Delanie?” the sergeant called out to the room at large.
     A young woman appeared from behind a curtain, pulling off a pair of rubber gloves. “Can I help you, sir?”
     “I need to speak with you, Miss Delanie,” he said, glancing around at the wounded soldiers then back at her. “Maybe in the hall?”
     The nurse smiled, nodding. “We can do that. Hang on a second.”
     She hurried back out of sight, and Alexander heard her say, “I’ll be back to finish your examination in a minute, Patrick. The sergeant just needs to tell me something real quick.”
     He wasn’t sure how willing she’d be to continue working after he’d finished with his news. The duo stepped out into the hall, and Marks couldn’t help feeling tormented at the fact that her guileless eyes would soon be filled with sorrow.
     “Miss Delanie, I’m Sergeant Marks from the 53rd Armed Contingent. I’m here to inform you that my patrol found a family, which has been identified as yours.” It was hard to keep his composure as fear crossed her features.
     “Th-there was a mortar attack earlier. Are they okay?”
     “I’m sorry, ma’am. They must’ve been on their way to their designated bombing shelter because of the drill and got caught by the mortars. We were barely able to identify them when we found them.”
     One of her hands lifted to cover her mouth, and Marks could see it trembling from his standing point a few feet away. “A-all of them a-are---“
     “Yes, ma’am. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
     The woman tottered to the wall, shoulders shaking as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Th-thank you… for telling me yourself, Sergeant. Thank you.” Her voice caught, and a sob broke from her throat.
     “Do you need me to call someone?” Marks asked, taking a partial step forward and extending a hand towards her.
     The woman didn’t seem to hear and she slid to the floor, hiding her face in her arms.
     “Kelsey? Sergeant, what’s going on?” a white-dressed nurse appeared in his peripherals, and Marks turned to her.
     “I was informing Miss Delanie of her family’s deaths, ma’am,” he murmured, working to keep his composure.
     Tears filled the newcomer’s eyes. “Oh…oh no… Kelsey?” She crouched down to be at the younger woman’s level. “Kells, talk to me.”
     Sergeant Marks backed away, knowing that he had to return to his post, but wishing that there was something else he could do.

     “You can’t send her there,” Marks interrupted, gritting his teeth. “You know as well as I do that the journey alone could kill someone, not to mention what state the base will be in when she’d arrive.”
     “Sergeant, we don’t have a choice. Singles living facilities are maxed out, and there is no one in the family facilities has the space to take in another person.”
     “Then put her in the married section! There’s got to be someone who wouldn’t mind sharing living space with her.”
     “We can’t do that either, Sergeant. Those are nearly maxed as well, so unless you can find someone to marry her in the next seventy-two hours, she’s going with the next convoy to Delta Base. Got it?”
      His heart sank, but he nodded at the head of administration. “Thank you for your time.”
      “No problem, Sergeant. Thank you for trying to help her out.”
      Marks glanced at him. “Who said I was done?”
      Alexander shifted uncomfortably while waiting for someone to answer the door. Miss Delanie had been allowed to stay in her family’s living quarters until the convoy departed for Delta Base. Everything she couldn’t carry with her would be distributed amongst the other families or disposed of.
      The barrier before him edged open, and a woman, not Kelsey Delanie, peered out at him.
      “Oh, you’re the sergeant, from the hospital.” It was the same female that he’d seen come to Miss Delanie’s aid.
      “Yes, ma’am. Is Kelsey Delanie in?”
      “She’s here, but she’s not exactly in a condition to talk to anyone.”
      Marks nodded. “May I still see her?”
      The woman sighed, but opened the portal so he could step through. Rust flaked off the iron hinges onto the floor as she moved it.
       Inside was lit with a few emergency lamps, caused by the shortage of electricity brought about by recent bombings. He knew because his own cramped quarters were brightened by the same cumbersome devices.
      The female he sought sat on the couch with her knees brought up to her chest. Her eyes were red and there were fresh tear tracks on her face. A limp cloth was clutched in her hands.
      The sergeant approached slowly, taking a seat on the threadbare chair next to the equally worn couch.
      "Miss Delanie?”
      Her gaze flickered to him after a moment, but there was little interest to be found there.
      “Ma’am, I need to talk to you. Do you want to do this now, or maybe later?”
      “Now’s fine,” she croaked.
      “Ma’am, I’m sure you’re aware of the regulations, and that there is little extra space to be found in the base at the moment.”
      “There’s no space in the singles quarters, and none of the other families have the space nor the means to take me in,” Delanie murmured, no hint of animosity in her tone, but rather one of understanding.
      “That’s correct, ma’am. And as such, admin has said that you either leave tomorrow on the convoy headed for Delta, or…”
      She blinked at him, and he summoned up his courage to finish speaking. “There’s still a small amount space available in the married quarters. Is there anyone who you could—“
      The nurse cut him off with a slight shake of her head. “No. No one.”
      “Ma’am, you realize how dangerous of a route it is to Delta Base?”
      “I’ve helped treat enough casualties from incoming convoys to have a fair idea of the danger, Sergeant.”
      Marks shifted to rest his elbows on his knees, trying to make a decision on what he could, should, and would do. “Do you want to go, ma’am? To Delta Base?”
      Tears filled her eyes, and he looked up at the other nurse, who’d come to stand nearby, for some type of help.
      “No, I don’t want to,” Kelsey gasped out after a moment. “Everything is here. All my memories are of here. I don’t want to leave it all behind.”
       Sergeant Marks took in a breath, preparing to propose and not just a plan.

       Alexander set her bags down on the floor to their new living quarters, and stepped out of the way so she could edge past him into the small space. Kelsey’s eyes were wide and somber, but not hesitant, nor regretful, for which he was glad.
       It wasn’t every day one decided to marry a near stranger.
       The sergeant checked the clock on the wall and said, “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
       Her gaze went to the short piece of furniture, then ran up and down his frame. “You won’t fit.”
       A small smile quirked his mouth and Alexander shrugged. “I’ll be alright.”
       Kelsey still seemed dubious but she didn’t protest again. She wandered into the bedroom and sat down on the bed to take her shoes off.
       Marks watched her for a minute then went to flop down on the couch. It was worn threadbare, like everything else in the small rooms, but better than the concrete floor.

[time skip]

       He lay awake until Kelsey finished her shower and came back to the bed. While Alexander knew the water would’ve been cold – they only had enough warm water for two very short showers, or one longer one – but the chill on her skin was detectable as she crawled over his legs, covered by the comforter, and moved back up to her pillow.
        Marks frowned when she began shivering intermittently, causing the bed to shake as well.
        “Kelsey,” he murmured, and paused when she jerked and drew in a sharp breath.
        “I didn’t know you were awake,” the woman replied, not rolling to face him.
        “You shouldn’t have showered again,” Alexander told her, reaching out to smooth his thumb across her upper arm, and feeling her tremble with cold again.
        “I needed to clear my head. Burn victims always give me nightmares. The cold water helps me calm down.”
        A long hmm was his only response for a long moment, before he made up his mind and caught her around the waist with one arm. Kelsey went very still but Alexander didn’t let it deter him as he pulled her across the bed so she was tucked up against him.
       The icy chill over her skin made goose bumps break out over his flesh. Alexander stifled a yelp when Kelsey’s frigid toes met his feet. As it was, a small sound escaped.
       She turned over to face him, seeming content with the proximity now. “I used to do that with my sister. She hated anything cold and cold feet were no exception.”
       “I understand her sentiments quite well,” Marks deadpanned, pushing his pillow her direction a bit so it was more easily accessible for her to use.
       The nurse didn’t scoot so she could use it though; she appeared to be happy to tuck herself under his chin, proving his assumption of her adjustment to the nearness.
       Her day must’ve been more taxing than she'd let on, because soon after Kelsey had situated herself next to him, she fell asleep.
       Still, he didn’t sleep until after she’d quit shivering and was beating the comforter in terms of warmth. Then the sergeant drifted off, quite pleased with the way the whole business had ended.

       Sergeant Marks staggered into the hospital, near-unconscious comrade slung over his good shoulder, and his other arm almost useless due to a bullet that had gone clean through.
       Outside was dark except for the explosions caused by grenades and mortars, the only things one could hear being the sharp sounds of rifle fire or a scream of “incoming!”
       The rush of the hospital seemed peaceful next to the horror occurring just a few blocks away. Alexander saw more soldiers lining the walls, most of them marked with the WW sticker – walking wounded, much like himself – which the field medic had slapped on their helmets. Jackson, the man on his shoulder, groaned, and brought Marks back to reality.
       “Hang on,” the sergeant told him, lurching forward painfully.
       It took a bit of time to flag down a nurse, but she took one look at Jackson’s wound and said, “Get him to Ward 5, sergeant, and get your injury bandaged while you’re there.”
       It was on the tip of his tongue to ask after Kelsey, but he knew this wasn’t the time. He took off at an uneven pace for the section they’d been directed to, dodging orderlies and casualties as he went.
       Ward 5 was just as busy as everywhere else was, but a nurse ushered them in and Jackson was quickly rushed away to be treated.
       Alexander was shown to a bed, where another soldier – a private, from his rank markers on his shoulders – already sat. He took the other half of the limited space, sinking into the mattress wearily. There were no words spoken between the two soldiers, only silent acknowledgement followed by mutual sympathy.
      Marks drifted between awareness and blissful unconsciousness, until he felt a tap on his arm. The soldier jerked, reflexes reacting to the possible presence of an enemy, but relaxed when he took stock of his surroundings and remembered what was occurring.
      A nurse stood before him, face haggard with weariness but she still made an effort to soften her features with kindness.
      “Let me get you fixed up real quick, Sergeant,” she requested, eyes going to his wound.
      The man nodded, pulling off his helmet and struggling to unbutton his uniform’s jacket left-handed. The healer took over with ease after a few moments and worked it over the bullet-hole in his shoulder with the aura of one who’d done it many times before.
       She got to work and Marks let himself drift again. When he first heard his name called, he thought it was his imagination.
       But when he looked around the room to see if there was anyone trying to get his attention, he spotted Kelsey pushing through a group of nurses and patients to get to him.
       It made his chest ache to see the panic in her gaze.
       She broke free of the crowd and ran the last few steps towards him. The nurse attending him had turned to see what had caught his attention, and moved out of the way just in time for Kelsey to reach him.
       Alexander wrapped his good arm around her shaking shoulders, hoping that the pain from his jostled limb hadn’t escaped his sealed lips. He could feel the dampness of Kelsey’s tears on his skin and was glad she didn’t seem to mind the filth, grime, and blood that caked his person.
       Kelsey clung to him as if she was drowning, and it took a long minute for her to begin speaking. “T-too many casualties from the 53rd,” her voice caught. “No one had seen you in a long time.”
       It took Marks a minute to be sure his voice wouldn’t crack, from either pain or emotion. “I’m fine, Kelsey, but I need you to patch me up. Can you do that?”
      She leaned back, arms still around his chest, with moisture clinging to her eyelashes. After a hesitation, Kelsey released him to explore the edges of the wound that was sending a steady trickle of blood down the side of his torso. As her slim fingers investigated, Alexander could see that she was struggling to keep her composure.
     “You got this covered, Delanie?” the forgotten nurse spoke up from a few paces away.
     “Yeah, I’ve got it, Marin. Thanks.” Kelsey quirked an uneven smile at her, reaching for the antiseptic swabs that Marin had brought over earlier and got to work.
      Alexander gritted his teeth as she cleaned, struggling to keep his arm from clenching so as not to aggravate the wound and cause excess bleeding. Kelsey was a trooper, sucking up her fears and working with swift, sure movements that probably meant she’d detached herself from the fact that it was her husband she worked on.
      Marks watched her, thinking back on how many times he’d almost been killed in the past twenty-four hours, and how many times he’d wanted to have just five more minutes with her. If he died, she’d be alone again and it was that thought that had the soldier wait until she was finishing up before leaning down to kiss her forehead.
      Tears pooled in her eyes in a moment and her hands shook as she completed securing the bandaging around his shoulder. Then she leaned forward to lean her brow against his collarbone. Kelsey’s breath ghosted over his skin and made gooseflesh break out across his arms. Marks pressed his cheek against her hair and wished that the moment would never end.
      “I have to get back out there,” he murmured, and felt her grip on his forearm tighten.
      “I don’t want you to go,” Kelsey breathed, lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Please, Alexander.”
      “No, Kells. I won’t abandon them, and you need to get back to work as well. There are others who need your help.”
      She searched his face, looking so much younger than her twenty-three years in that moment, but she stepped away to give him the space he needed to stand.
      Marks got to his feet and pulled his shirt back on, working at the buttons once more. Kelsey reached around him to retrieve his helmet and clutched it in her hands until he was ready for it. Then she lifted it to settle it on his head.
      A sad smile touched her mouth as she fastened the strap under his chin. “It suits you.”
      Alexander ran a hand over his jaw, which was rough with several days’ worth of stubble, and quirked a smile back at her. “Thank you.”
      “You will come back, right?” Again, the vulnerable child showed itself on her features.
      “If it’s within my power, I will,” he replied, smoothing a hand over her hair before walking away.


   And that's all for Kelsey and Alexander. Well, I have got more in my head, as per the norm, but I haven't had any inclination to put any of it down yet, so. If there's a particular request for more of them, I may look into it, but otherwise.

   Feedback is appreciated if you've got some to give! Thanks for reading.

   Ad astra per aspera.
   To the stars, through difficulty.