"I thought they had found all the patients." Dr. Nikitin remarked as he saw three men pushing a gurney down the hall. Alexi Terasov took his eyes off the computer screen and cocked his head slightly as the white coats passed the window. This was a place were odd and unusual things were the norm, but something suddenly felt different to him. Something pulled him to find out exactly who that was being wheeled towards that cursed room. Terasov stood and shuffled towards the door. Nikitin regretted he had said something at all

"Have you learned nothing? Why involve yourself?" he called.

Ignoring his counterpart, Terasov hurried towards the end of the hall as fast as his fragile knee would allow.

"We can't let her go. She has seen them." One of the men said. They pulled her to her feet. Her dark hair flopped around her burned face as she cried out in agony. Clearly, she was no patient but one of those unfortunate American tourists. She had been lucky enough to survive so far, but the people Terasov worked for would not allow lose ends. Too much was at stake in their point of view. This poor girl was a victim of circumstance, but in the end, weren't they all? Terasov could not allow her to be condemned to such a dark fate that he had seen so many others consumed by.

"No!" Terasov said stepping between the terrified young woman and the steel door. One of the men rolled his eyes. Terasov always showed too much compassion and never could seem to grasp the idea of why certain things needed to be done.

"Professor—" one of the men began.

"Please, I beg of you. There have already been setbacks into the research, but this—this will hamper it further."

"It needs to be done." The other man continued.

"Please, we will care for her. No one, no matter what she has seen, deserves that. Please, let me take her. She may be of some help because she knows what happened, what they did."

There was silence except for the occasional sob from the American woman.

"She'll probably be dead in a matter of weeks. Days maybe." Another man remarked.

"She never leaves and she will be closely monitored. Do we have an understanding?" Queried the first one.

"Yes, absolutely."

Terasov leaned her back against the gurney. She was struggling to keep her eyes open. Gently, he touched her face and she winced in pain from the burns. Terasov frowned at her sad state. She had been exposed to extremely high levels of radiation and was in desperate need of immediate medical attention. Terasov wondered if it was already too late. The woman's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she collapsed.

"Take her to Nikitin." Terasov said.

Amanda had never been more pain. Her bones felt like lead and every inch of her skin felt like it was boiling her alive. She could hear two male voices speaking what she assumed to be Russian, possibly Ukrainian. She couldn't tell the difference, nor did she particularly care at that moment. She wanted to open her eyes, but to her, they felt as if they had been sealed shut.

"She's waking up." Terasov said.

"I can't give her any more morphine right now. She will have to struggle for a bit. Keep her mind on something else." Nikitin replied. Terasov took the woman's hand into his with a feathery touch.

"It's all right." He said to her in English. His voice was calm and soothing. She recognized it as the voice of the man who had stopped her from going through that steel door. She needed to see him. Determined, she opened her eyes slowly, seeing nothing but a white blur. She moved her neck ever so slightly towards him as her sight began to clear. Her eyes met soft, warm, handsome emerald ones. It was as if he had reached into her very being and humbly asked her to trust him. He would get it. She sensed the only reason she was still alive was thanks to this man. Terasov didn't even know if the poor girl could see any longer since she had not reacted in the slightest bit to his obvious differences.

"What a beautiful girl," he smiled. "What's your name, Sweetheart?"

She tried to speak, but no words came out. She breathed again.

"Amanda." She whispered.

"Miss Amanda. My name is Alexi Terasov and this is Dr. Sergei Nikitin. You are being treated by one of the best doctors in the world."

Nikitin scoffed.

"Flattery."

"You are American, yes?" Terasov asked

"Yes."

"Where from?"

"Chicago." She croaked.

Nikitin spoke to his associate in their native tongue.

"This next one will cause quite some pain."

Amanda was already covered with tubes and lines full of powerful medications in an attempt to lessen the effects of the poison invading her body. At first, Nikitin was hesitant to begin treatment. The girl was quickly headed for death and argued it would be more humane to smother her. Terasov begged and pleaded with his old friend to give the young woman a fighting chance. She had survived an incredible ordeal and he was certain she still had some fight left in her. Nikitin inserted yet another line into her veins.

Amanda squeezed Terasov's hand hard. She was still strong: a good sign.

She gasped for air and arched her weakened, burned body in aching agony.

"Give her some oxygen." Nikitin instructed. Terasov held the mask over her nose and mouth. She breathed in hard and fast, the clear rubber fogging up with each labored inhale. Her chest rose and fell at a furious pace although the pure oxygen filled her now more fragile lungs. She was in considerable pain. He would be able to give her a strong dose of morphine in a few moments. She deserved it. Nikitin sighed deeply. Only days before, she had been a very attractive young woman but now, if Amanda survived, she would never be the same again. No living thing ever left this damned place without being changed somehow. She would always wear the scars from her burns. He was worried about the onset of cancers in the long run, that is, if she lived. So far, Nikitin kept the Reaper at bay by having his own tumors removed. He often joked that the surface of the moon had less craters than his body. His friend however, had faired a lot better. He had done many tests on Terasov and couldn't find out why he had not developed any cancerous growths. Granted, he could no longer grow hair like the rest and his skin was severely pigmented, by Terasov was by far the most unaffected by the radiation. The other thing Nikitin was preparing himself for was the constant crying when Amanda's hair would start falling out. Women had a certain pride when it came to their hair. He remembered feeling so helpless hearing his wife weeping in absolute despair, holding clumps of her chestnut curls in her hands. American women were particularly vain and no doubt, this would be a difficult process for his new patient. No matter—that would be Terasov's concern. He would help her body but Terasov would have the far greater task of helping her mind. As a doctor, Nikitin had preformed countless surgeries had seen horrific injuries. He would much rather deal with blood, bone, or bile than attempt to tackle a wounded mind. It was far too messy.

"There's a good girl." Terasov said softly. Nikitin recognized the connection they already had to one another. Alexi had pulled her from the edge of the abyss, but into what? Amanda was now trapped here for the rest of her life. It could be a few hours, or it could be decades. In that time, however long or short it may be, she would either come to be grateful for this second chance or she would curse the fact that she had lived. In all the years Nikitin had spent with Terasov here, he had never sensed more concern or hope emanating from him. Perhaps Terasov was simply starved for female companionship and he craved to feel desired in some way by a woman. Nikitin injected morphine into her IV line. The blissful feeling of sleep quickly began to overtake her. Her breathing slowed to an easy, steady pace.

"I will stay with you." She heard Terasov say before she drifted off for some much needed rest.