(A.N: I do not own Underworld or its characters. This is a series of oneshots for the 10 hurt_comfort challenge at livejournal. Three more have been written, but they are part of another storyline, which you'll see around November. Hopefully. XD. Feedback is much appreciated. Also, the title for this piece is a fragment from this quote: A bend in the road is not the end of the road unless you fail to make the turn.)

Unless you fail to make the turn- Unconscious

Shit.

She could feel the blood trickling form her wound, and from what pain emanated from it, it was serious, more so than she'd let Michael know.

Why not? He's a doctor after all…

She had researched his background for a while, if just to avoid sitting in her chair, feeling useless, before finally mustering the courage to actually go to his apartment. And when she finally did…

Her eyes threatened to slip closed. She shook her head slightly to clear it, and continued with her line of thought. Who was that Lycan? The Vampires prided themselves of keeping a precise record of their number. How could it be that, after three Silver bullets, he still had the strength to come out after them? A werewolf with those abilities could not have stayed under the radar for long.

And yet he did. Is that it or are we just a decaying society?

Viktor was underground. Kraven devoted more time than he should to small luxuries. There hadn't been a single Death Dealer recruit in over two decades…

Her thought slowly faded away, as did the world around her.

Darkness.

The first notion to cross her mind established her solitude. The following five did, too. She was foggy, and couldn't move or open her eyes yet. Her world consisted of black and more black. And she had herself as only companion.

Too glad, she snapped up as soon as she felt strong enough, leaning on her elbows. While the wound on her shoulder had scarred already, she was still sore as the tissue underneath wasn't completely healed.

She laid back down, sighing. He'd probably called the police by now, and they were certainly looking for her. She couldn't get out, as the sun would rise in but a few minutes. She wouldn't get far.

She couldn't blame him for it, though. Witness a shooting and then be abducted by a woman wasn't exactly the best way to make an acquaintance. Why did she feel so alone? It was almost as if the vulnerability of her hiding place reinforced the fact that she was alone. She turned her head as the sun's first rays reflected off the water. As long as she didn't look at them she wouldn't be harmed.

What?

There he was, passed out next to her. She found his torn sweatshirt after a while, thinking fondly of him again, concerned about her when he himself was hurt. And she didn't know whether it was just the Hippocrates oath or if he really was so self-serving. But she didn't care. He was next to her. And even if he was, to her eyes, a measly human, she felt safer than she had in a long time.