A lightly tanned girl walked slowly toward her apartment building, the hard rain having soaked her to the bone long ago. Pushing her sunglasses up again to cover her eyes, she turned the corner to find a large man collapsed on the steps of the alley entrance to her apartment. Shivering slightly, she rubbed her arms and glanced around, looking for anyone who might know him. They were the only two within sight.

Grabbing the tanned man by the shoulder, she began dragging him inside. Momentarily, her mind listed off all the things that could go wrong if she brought the injured man into her home. She didn't even know his name. For all she knew, he could be a crazy killer, or even a rapist. But, she realized that her conscience would rag on her for forever if she didn't help him and he died. With that note, she reached a decision.

It looked like she didn't have much choice other than to carry him up to her apartment. Which was located on the top floor. It's not like she could just leave him here in the rain, anyway. Flipping him onto his back, she began pulling on his right sleeve. The soaked girl managed to get him to the base of the stairs before his right sleeve ripped clean off. She fell back onto the stairs, holding what was once his sleeve. Oh no she thought, clasping her hands over her mouth. Smiling grimly, she approached the black and white haired man. Unusual white markings on his exposed arm caught her interest.

She leaned forward, taking a closer look. Reeling her head back, she realized who this was. He was the State Alchemist Murderer, Scar. Biting her lip, two halves of her brain battled it out again. He was unconscious and clearly hurt, but if she were caught harboring a known criminal, it would mean a lot of trouble for her. Plus, if they realized who she was… The girl shook her head. Looks like she was harboring a criminal for the time being…

Panting heavily, she pulled the heavy Ishbalin man up the last stair and into her apartment. As carefully as she could manage, she pushed and pulled Scar onto her too-small bed. Straightening up and wiping the combination of sweat and rain off her forehead, she examined the extent of his wounds. Stripping off his shirt, she took in the fresh cuts and bruises mingled with old scars. No wonder he was out cold. Sighing, she left to fetch her medical supplies.

Returning swiftly, she started with his left arm, sterilizing and wrapping it quickly. She wrapped both hands around one large bicep, moving it to expose his bruised ribcage. Leaning back, she shook her head. Her hands could barely wrap around a single bicep of his. How had she ever managed to drag him up three stories?

The clock read 11:04 as her red eyes glanced at it. There was still so much left to treat… Frowning, she sighed and crossed her arms, leaning back on the chair a little. Blood, his blood, and possibly someone else's, had seeped its way underneath her fingernails. She glanced back up to Scar, and his still untreated chest wounds.

Soaked in alcohol, the cleansing pads she had been using to sterilize him were quickly piling up in her small trashcan. But, he was almost completely wrapped up. A knock on the door caused her to start, nearly knocking over the tray holding all her medical supplies. She gasped, barely catching the glass bottle of alcohol as it rolled off the tray. Letting out a breath, the young woman decided that she needed a tray with higher edges on it. After carefully setting the bottle back down, she turned and contemplated opening the door. Who could it be, anyway?

"Open up, Damnit! I know you're in there. I can see your wet footprints- no, smear all over the ground. What the hell were you doing? You haven't paid me, yet, either." Cringing, the realization that she was screwed hit her. Quickly, she grabbed the damp towel on the tray, wiping off her bloody hands a little. She suspected she did nothing more than just smear it around into a finer coat on her hands, though.

Keeping the security chain attached to the door, she unlocked it slowly, peeking out one eye, it's yellow depths staring at the large man in front of her. "… I… thought the rent wasn't due until tomorrow. Sorry Mr. Wolfe."

The large, burly man frowned underneath his moustache, looking not very wolf-like, but rather resembling a hairy walrus. "Look, kid, I don't mind renting out to you, even if it's been illegally for most of your stay, but you can't keep paying me late. When do you get your next paycheck?"

"This Friday." She might have been paranoid, but she could swear she had just heard movement behind her. She swallowed, still obscured by the door.

Mr. Wolfe raised an eyebrow, giving her a skeptical look. "It's Tuesday."

There was a pause. "… I know."

Mr. Wolfe sighed, shaking his head, " okay, fine, fine. I'll take your payment late. You can't keep doing this, though. I set those payment dates for a reason."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, and thank you…" The barely visible portion of her head bobbled up and down as she nodded to his terms. Mr. Wolfe sighed, waving her off and turning away, shaking his head slightly as he trudged off.

There was a click as the door was locked, and it seemed a million times louder than it was supposed to be. It must've just been the adrenaline. A breath was let out as she slid to the floor, letting her head rest against the door. That was close…Opening her eyes, Scar was indeed still there… unconscious. With a slight frown, she stood, feeling a bit silly for some reason as she made her way over to him, picking up where she left off.

There was no need to look at the clock, by the time all of Scar's wounds had been properly dressed. It was way into the night, and at that moment, the young woman sitting in her cheap, slightly leaky apartment with bloody hands, an unconscious criminal in her bed, and more than a few secrets just knew she was really tired.

Feeling the heaviness of her eyelids, she struggled to keep them open. Scooting further back into the chair, she brought her feet up to the edge of her mattress, leaning her torso against her thighs, arms wrapping around her knees, her chin cradled in the valley her pushed together knees created. Blinking a little, a small smile crept its way onto her features as she curled and uncurled her toes, watching the little digits grab and release the sheets. She let out a breath she hadn't noticed she'd been holding, feeling her sore body relax, her eyelids shut. She'd let them remain closed for just a bit, so that they wouldn't protest so much when she opened them in a few seconds, to clean up this mess…