Chapter 1

Dixie started up the ambulance as Iain jumped in to the passenger seat, they had been called out to assist the other team with an acid attack.

"I started watching a new programme on that thing, what do you call it?" Dixie piped up.

"Netflix?" Iain replied, yawning.

"Yeah, that's the one," she laughed. "Anyway, I started watching this thing about a woman's prison, it was better than I expected to be. You should give it a go; I've only watched the first three eps though."

"That's nice," Iain retorted. Dixie just rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

"So Iain, is there any lucky ladies you've got your eye on?" She poked. Iain looked at her and furrowed his brow, but he did think about it. An image of Rita popped into his mind but he just shrugged it off.

"That's a bit random innit?"

"Not really, you keep yawning. Someone has to be keeping you awake at night," she winked.

"Yeah, very funny," Iain rolled his eyes.

"Well there must be someone," Dixie pestered him.

Iain just ignored her, he hadn't really thought about anyone. He was too focused on his work to be thinking about having a woman in his life. Although, the more he thought about it, he started to realise that he hadn't been with anyone for a couple of months now. Then he thought about what made him think of Rita when she asked that question. He had never thought about her in that way before, obviously he thought she was attractive but they never really spoke much so why did he think of her? His thoughts were interrupted by the radio on his belt crackling. He had missed what the voice was saying; he was too deep in thought. He unhooked the radio from his belt and pulled it up to his face.

"Say that again control?" Iain asked, confused.

"Holby control to 3006, 3007 in attendance of this incident. 6 walking wounded," the crackly voice from the radio responded.

"All right, roger that," he answered back, slightly annoyed.

"What are we a taxi service?" Dixie barked as she drove the ambulance.

Iain shook his head, "Number 9 bus goes straight from Holby to here."

Dixie and Iain looked out onto the road and noticed someone dressed all in leather that appeared to be in a lot of pain. Then they realised the motor bike that crashed into the bus stop not far from he was lying. Dixie started slowing down and turned to go into the street where the crash took place.

"Right now here's someone who really does need an ambulance," Dixie stated whilst parking up. "3006 to control, unable to proceed to original call. We've stopped at a running call," she shouted down the radio.

Iain grabbed his equipment and headed straight for the young boy as soon as the vehicle stopped moving.

"Hello mate, ambulance service," Iain reported, striding over to him.

"No, I'm okay," the young boy struggled and tried to get up.

Iain rushed to his side, "Okay, stay nice and still for us, you might make it worse," he squatted down so that he was eye-level with the boy. "Have you got any pain in your neck at all?" He questioned him.

"Right, what have we got?" Dixie inquired, interrupting Iain.

"Airways clear," he added. "What's happened? Has somebody hit you?"

"It's a slippery road, the bike just flew out," the boy explained, almost out of breath.

Iain looked over to where the motorbike had crashed. Smoke was surrounding and he couldn't see much but whatever happened seemed brutal.

"Right, I'll see what the damage is," Iain said whilst standing up and making his way over.

"Yeah, leave me to do all the hard work why don't you?" Dixie joked.

As Iain got closer to the crash site, everything was becoming clearer. The glass at the bus top had been shattered; the motorbike was on its side and there was a strong smell of petrol. He then noticed the blood that had been splattered up the side of the glass and was also spreading out from underneath the bike. Thoughts start racing through his mind. He didn't want to know what lay underneath that bike. But he took a deep breath and edged closer, he stopped when he seen the body of a young woman. He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest and there was a lump in his throat. His eyes wandered over to where he could see the feet of a baby boy. He took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes not wanting to see anymore.

He was back in Afghanistan again. The sun was hot and beating down on him, making him sweat. He couldn't see much, the smoke and fire blanketed the ground; clouding his vision. All around him, he could hear people screeching in fear and pain. The smell of burning flesh wafted through the air, he covered his mouth and his nose as he could feel himself gagging. The wind started blowing the smoke away revealing the dead and injured bodies that surrounded him. He started walking through the rubble that had been thrown everywhere from the power of the blast. Men were rushing around trying to get to the people crying in agony in order to help them in any way they could. Iain carried on walking, his body felt numb and he wasn't sure if this was a dream or not. He tried to remember what happened in the last five minutes but everything was just a blur. Iain froze when he seen a man who he barely recognised from the burns that covered his face lying in front of him. He knelt down and placed two fingers underneath his jaw. No pulse. Whoever he was: a friend, a husband, a father, a soldier. He had just been ripped away from his family and it was Iain's fault. Why wasn't he lying on the floor covered in burns? Why was he the one walking around alive? Why did he survive? Then he started to remember what happened. Naveed took him away from everyone else, and then he set the bomb off. Why him? Why did he protect him? Why didn't he stop him? He should've seen what he was going to do before it was too late. It's because of him that now people have lost everything, their families, their children, their wives. He didn't know what to do. He felt like a coward and he was to blame for everything. He stood up and took a deep breath ready to walk away but then he seen his friend Kenny who was at someone's side holding on to their arm. It barely even resembled an arm anymore; the fire had turned it to a deep shade of purple and red. He could hear Kenny saying, "It's all over now mate, you're safe." Kenny looked up at Iain, with fear and panic in his eyes. Iain could feel his heart pounding and his breath was becoming shallower. It was his fault. He'd done this. He made these people suffer. He made their families suffer. He had to try and help these people. It wouldn't be enough but it was something he could try to show that he tried to do something. He tried to save them but it wasn't enough. Stumbling, he joined Kenny's side. He ripped off some material that he found from some cloth behind him and he used it to cover the soldier's burns. It didn't do much, but it helped. He could feel Kenny's eyes burning into him. He knew what he was thinking. Why wasn't he one of these men lying on the floor? Why wasn't he hurt? How did he get out in time? It was fault this happened. No one else's. His. He did this.

Iain snapped back to reality when he heard Dixie calling his name.

"Iain mate, is everything okay?" She shouted.

He turned his head to look back at her but she was still checking the boy over. The thoughts were still running his through his head. He couldn't stop them. He took a deep breath and replied, "We've got a mother and child," he paused. "Both dead," he tried to hold back his tears.