Disclaimer: I would totally own Repo if I were allowed to, alas, I do not. Instead, I get to play with the characters without making a single red cent. Yellow cents on the other hand…

A/N: Here's the second part. Again, this is a companion piece to the last chapter, and focuses on Shilo rather than Graverobber.

Graverobber didn't know it yet, but Shilo was going to kill him as soon as he woke up. Of all the idiotic, stupid, moronic, brainless, dim-witted, dumb, thick-headed, reckless, idiotic, stupid… wait, she was repeating herself.

Shilo may have tied the bandages off a little more…vehemently than was strictly necessary, but Graverobber's unconscious twitches made her feel better.

After the last bandage was tied off, and there was a thick comforter pulled over his battered body, Shilo took refuge in the slightly dusty armchair next to the bed. She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.

She stared at Graverobber. She couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness that seemed to permeate the air. Graverobber was supposed to be larger than life, creating chaos, twinkling his stupid eyes and twirling something shiny between his fingers. Not…this. Not laying so still and quiet in a dead house while covered in bandages.

Shilo's fingers twitched to check his pulse again, but she restrained herself. He was alive. He wasn't going to die. She wasn't going to be left alone again. But she did wonder about the odd accumulation of injuries he'd managed to get.

Most of his injuries had been easy to treat. His broken ribs had just needed to be wrapped, and his numerous bruises and tiny cuts just needed to be treated with some antiseptic liniment. His dislocated shoulder and elbow had been a little more complicated, but it had simply been a matter of finding the right medical textbook to explain how to properly set those, then she'd wrapped that arm too.

But it was the gunshot wound on his lower back that worried her the most. She had no idea if it had been a laser, or if whoever had beaten him up so badly had used an old fashioned gun with bullets. If it had been an old fashioned gun, she'd have to take him to a doctor, no matter what his protests were. She couldn't take a bullet out, and if it was left inside him, it would kill him.

But so far, he seemed to be doing okay. He didn't have a fever or any discoloration to show an infection, which was good, because when she'd first found him, he'd smelled like he'd been rolling around in a trash heap.

He'd better be grateful when he woke up.

Because who had to drag his unconscious stinking body? Who had to shower him off and get rid of his disgusting clothes? Her. Shilo. And dear god, that had been embarrassing.

Shilo didn't like to think of herself as a prude, but… What else can you be when you've been isolated in a house your entire life? It's not like she'd had normal teenager experiences, like with dating boys and holding hands, and kissing…

Shilo felt the heat of the blush creeping up her neck and into her face. She was such a prude…

It's all Graverobber's fault, she decided. Graverobber had to go and completely cover himself in disgusting goo; and there was no way she was going to let him sleep anywhere near anything he could contaminate, let alone dress his wounds, while he was covered in all that yuck. So of course she'd had to wash it off, except, it was still on his clothes… his soaked and torn clothes…and she couldn't very well get him into a bed while he was still in soaked clothes, right? So of course she'd had to undress him. Why wouldn't that little voice in the back of her head stop giggling?

She'd been nervous about it. What if he woke up while she was getting his clothes off? That would have been lethally mortifying. But he needed to be out of those wet clothes…and she needed to see what injuries he had...

She'd always thought that her first naked guy would be someone dashingly handsome and sweet- someone she was in love with, who loved her too. And they'd be undressing each other in some romantic setting, maybe with rose petals and candles. Because that's how a girl's first time is supposed to be like, right? And instead, what did she get? Skinny, gaunt, pasty pale, freakishly high forehead, whore-mongering, drug-peddling, beat up to all hell, Graverobber. Who still smelled like the rancid armpit of a month-long dead cow by the way. Any attraction his body might have held was completely obliterated by his oddly-bent arm and the fact that his painfully thin body was an abstract painting of various colored bruises. So not attractive at all. Nope, not even a little.

…He had really good abs though…

Shilo had chickened out at the last second when it came to his pants. Taking his coat and shirt off had been easy enough, but this… gah. She couldn't just take his pants off, la-dee-dah. Especially when she realized that Graverobber was obviously not a believer in underclothes. So she'd thrown the comforter over his lower half and timidly used fingertips that felt like they were being scalded to fumble his belt open and tug his pants off by the legs in several quick jerky tugs. Thank god he hadn't woken up.

She still didn't know what she was going to do when he woke up and found himself sans clothing. How on earth was she going to explain it without sounding like some kind of perverted…molester-person?

Nope, she figured, there was only one thing she could do. She was just going to have to kill Graverobber as soon as he woke up. Then there'd be no awkward questions and he'd never be able to scare her to death again.

Shilo was stirring a pot of soup downstairs when Graverobber decided to let her know he was awake.

"Where the FUCK are my pants?"

Shilo froze.

She heard a loud thump from the ceiling, followed by muffled cursing. Shilo whipped her head up and stared at the ceiling in frozen panic. There was another thump, and a loud wooden crash. More cursing.

Shilo winced and reluctantly made her way towards the staircase. The rational part of her head knew she needed to stop Graverobber before he did something stupid and hurt himself further, but the hopeful deluded part of her head hoped that he'd knock himself out before she got there.

Just as Shilo got to the base of the stairs, Graverobber was at the top, audibly growling and clutching a sheet hastily wrapped around his middle. The hand that wasn't holding a sheet around his waist was wrapped around the neck of a short table lamp, the cord swinging loosely. His eyes immediately locked on her form and he blinked, confusedly. "…Sparrow?"

Shilo was relieved that he'd stopped growling and fought to keep a blush from rising to her cheeks. "Er… hi?" she said meekly. Oh god, I'm a pervert, I took advantage of an unconscious man and he's so pissed and he's never going to let this go and what am I going to do…

Graverobber glanced at the lamp in his hand and glanced at Shilo again before he looked around at the area he was in. He squinted at her for a moment as if trying to tell if Shilo was real or illusion. "Huh." He absently set the lamp on the banister in front of him as he glanced down at himself, sheet and all, as if trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle.

Oh god, oh god, oh god…

"Shi- Sparrow…"

"Soup! I, er. I made soup!" She stuttered out hastily. She twisted the wooden spoon between her hands nervously.

Graverobber's eyes narrowed. "Sparrow…" he started again. Oh god, he knows! Abort! Abort! Run! Kill him! Something! Whatever you do, don't-

Shilo caved like an unstable jenga tower. "-It was me!" Shilo babbled. "I'm sorry! I- er- You- That is… you were covered in this disgusting slimy goo and you smelled so bad, and it could have gotten in your cuts, and I didn't know what else to do and I didn't know where you were hurt-and-I-swear-Ididn'tpeek," Shilo covered her face but kept babbling into her hands. "but…theshowerjustleftyousoakedand-I-coudn'tputyouintoabedsoaked-" she kept babbling, her voice getting higher and higher pitched as her heart continued to bead harder and harder and why-couldn't-she-breathe-where-did-the-ground-go…?

Something jarred her shoulders and her head snapped up as she took a gasping breath of air.

She found herself staring straight into Graverobber's eyes, which were a scant few inches away from her own. His hands were on her shoulders, and it'd been him that'd given her a brisk shake to snap her out of her hyperventilation.

"You listening, little sparrow?" he said softly. Her breath caught and her head made a tiny nod. Her heart felt like it was going to beat itself out of her chest. It'd been months since she'd stopped taking her father's fake medication, but there were times she seemed to still have the attacks that shouldn't exist. Shilo was secretly terrified that her father really had given her the disease and that she'd suddenly die…A distant part of Shilo's brain knew she was hyperventilating and possibly having a panic attack, but she couldn't think because the air kept running away and the ground was sooooo far away…

"Breathe in. Deep breath." Graverobber intoned. The air whooshed into her lungs. "Hold it." He softly demanded. She paused and her heart seemed to slow under the command. "Breathe it out slowly, sparrow. Little puffs." She was sure she felt her heart stutter and she almost panicked, but Graverobber was still there, anchoring her, and she was able to get the air out in shaky uneven puffs.

"Again." He said. "Deep breath in. Hold it. Slow breaths out." She followed his directions, happy to concentrate on something other than the ground and the air and her heartbeat. His voice was low and soothing and his hands on her shoulders were holding her down so she didn't float away, and his fingers were rubbing in little circles. It felt so nice… when was the last time someone had touched her like this? Like they cared about her? Her father…? No…he'd stopped giving her comforting touches when she started losing her hair. He didn't want to make her more sick… no, that's wrong, he made her sick himself. Why daddy? What did I do wrong? Why couldn't I have hugs anymore? It hurts so bad daddy. Daddy, make me stop throwing up… daddy…

She blinked.

Graverobber had stopped talking. But his hands were still on her shoulders and his face was still inches in front of her. And she was…fine. She could breathe again and her heart wasn't going to burst out of her chest, and the ground was under her feet again. Shilo flashed a brief, relieved smile at Graverobber and didn't notice the moment of surprise that flew across his face at her trusting gesture.

Relief was short lived for Shilo, though. Her eyes widened to horrified proportions when she realized that Graverobber was in front of her. Naked. With a sheet. In front of her. Her breath hitched, and Graverobber frowned and flicked her forehead with a finger as he straightened up.

"None of that. We just got you normal again."

She nodded, too dumbstruck to speak.

He searched her eyes for a moment, and Shilo absently noted that his eyes seemed to have little flecks of gold and green in them. He suddenly nodded, a satisfied smile on his face, as if he was satisfied with what he found. He stalked towards the kitchen, at the last moment turning his head to give her a lazy grin. "You said something about soup?"

A/N #2: Sorry this took so long. My father went into the hospital and someone (meaning me) had to keep him from pulling the IVs out of his arms and terrifying the nurses.

As an additional note, I've discovered that writing Shilo's character is damned difficult. I've known for two weeks how I wanted this chapter to play out and SHILO WOULDN'T STICK TO HER LINES. Now I have to make this longer. Darn. XD

I hope she came out okay in this chapter. It was like pulling teeth to get the beginning part done. I felt much more comfortable writing once I got Graverobber back in the game. : P In case you're wondering about Graverobber's initial hostility, he didn't know where he was, he had no pants, he hurts in places that he didn't know he had, and I'm pretty sure he has a moderate concussion. …Or maybe he's just a suspicious bastard.

C'mon people, I just gave you pants-less Graverobber. I can has reviews now? Pretty-please?