My eyes screwed up. Tears tried to force their ways out, but I wouldn't let them. I killed Steve. I messed up. Vision blurry, I looked down at Steve's chest. The bloody hole in his gut taunted me. I didn't look at it, kept my eyes focussed on the Totodile's upper body. Watched the blue chest rise and fall rhythmically. Rise and fall. Rise and fall...

Wait a minute...

Not sure if I was seeing things, I placed my hands on his chest. Sure enough, it was rising. I could feel his lungs filling and emptying with air. And just beneath the ribcage, under the cartilage, was a faint beating.

He was alive. Barely, but still alive.

"Oh, thank God," I muttered, letting out a sigh of relief. I rested my hands on the counter behind me, allowing some weight off my legs. Most of the tension seemed to disappear at once. Steve wasn't dead. I thought I had killed him. Right then, I was content to just sit there and be glad that I hadn't killed the Totodile, but there was still work to be done. There was still a hole in Steve's gut that needed to be covered. No one wanted that to get infected again.

Not having to worry about causing pain to him, I was able to quickly wrap Steve's abdomen with the scavenged bandages. They held in place well and didn't immediately become soaked in blood. That was a good sign to say the least.

Becca leaned against the counter opposite from me. Her arms supported her weight fully. Only then did I remember my promise to the young girl.

"Alright, now it's your turn," I told her, waving the bandages and disinfectant to make my point.

"Can hardly wait," she said with a cold smile. My shoulders slumped at her sarcasm. Even for her young age, Becca had a sharp tongue on her. I had a feeling this was going to suck for me as much as it did for her.

We sat down along the rows of steel cabinets on the wall. Gingerly, I rolled up Becca's pant leg to clean out the bites. Despite my best efforts, I winced at the sight.

Her leg was seriously mangled. Through the blood that covered it, I could make out the series of deep gouges made by the Mightyena's teeth. It definitely needed stitches, but a quick wrap was the best I could do at the moment. Grabbing the roll, I began the work of cleaning the leg of blood and disinfecting the wounds. Surprisingly enough, Becca braved through it. She simply whimpered whenever the bandage went over a bite.

"So is he why you went to the pharmacy?" Becca asked suddenly.

I paused my work to look at her. "Come again?"

"The Totodile. Steve." She gestured to the unconscious Pokémon. "Did you go to the pharmacy because he was hurt?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much why. Don't have much else of a reason to go."

I focussed back on her leg. Most of the blood was wiped off. Her injury was starting to look a lot less grisly. I tossed the current piece of cloth I was using to clean and ripped off another.

"Why did you go for him though?" she asked again. "It's not like you knew him that well. And how did he even get hurt anyways?"

I was concentrating on the task at hand, but I decided to humour her question. It gave me something else to focus on other than blood. God, how I hated blood.

I told her my story. About the car crash, Steve finding me in the wreckage and our run in with the religious nutcases. I tried to skip on some stuff, like that fact that I may have killed another man. I didn't want to think about it. It was hard enough convincing myself that it was necessary without it being brought up again. Becca stayed silent throughout the story.

"You were in a car crash, huh?" she commented. I gave an affirmative grunt in return. "I guess that's where you got that gash from."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Huh? Where?"

She pointed to my forehead, close to the hairline. My hand instantly shot up to it, trying to find this mystery injury. I felt a long and narrow cut, extending a few centimeters just under my hairline. The spot around it was crusted with dried blood that covered the right side of my face. I only felt pain in it when I started prodding it with my finger.

"Well, I'll be damned," I muttered. How I didn't notice that was beyond me. I wasn't exactly good at sucking up pain like others. The fact that I completely ignored this injury filled me with a sort of pride.

I wasn't as big of a wuss as people thought I was. Suck it, naysayers.

Looking back at Becca, I knew I would have to wait. A mangled leg took priority over a small head wound. I took a third piece of bandage and soaked it in disinfectant. Becca squirmed a little. She knew what was coming as much as I knew.

"This probably gonna hurt a lot," I told her again.

She bit her lip. "I know. Just... just make it quick."

I squeezed the bandage over the first bite, the largest one that went down to the bone. It was right above the shin, so it wasn't very deep, but it probably hurt like hell. Disinfectant leaked through the cloth and dropped into the long gash. Becca's leg tensed, trying to flex away from pain, but my hand kept it sturdy. I flinched as the girl let out a soft sob. I apologized out of reflex.

"No, no it's okay," she said in a strained voice. Her face was beaded with sweat. "Thanks for doing this, anyways. For helping me out and stuff. I don't even know who you are. Hell, I don't even know your last name."

"It's Thompson. Leander Thompson," I told her with a faint smile. "And it's nothing. Just returning the favour. You did save my ass after all."

She smiled and laughed a bit. "Yeah, I did."

I grinned widely also. It was a stressful day, and a lot of bad things happened to say the least. Having a reason to smile felt good. Eased some of the stress that was building. It made cleaning the bite marks easier to know that Becca still had the strength to smile.

I couldn't believe that she had the guts to stand up to the Mightyena by herself. I was just a stranger to her, yet she helped me out. Did I have the courage to do that? I would say yes, since I did the same for Steve, but he'd helped me just minutes before. If it was a full blown stranger, would I have helped? As that question lingered in my mind unanswered, another one popped up.

What exactly was Becca doing in the pharmacy in the first place? She was alone, apparently only twelve years old and could barely defend herself. Sure, I almost fit the same description, but I had a reason to go out there. To help Steve. What was her reason?

I asked her this as I bandaged her leg. I'd already covered each individual wound and next was to wrap the entire calf up. As soon as the question came out, Becca's smile vanished, replaced by a grimace. She quickly covered up the change, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked her. Her leg was finally done being bandaged, and I reverted back into a crouch to inspect my handiwork. However, she immediately tucked her legs into her chest, burying her face out of view.

Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

I waited a minute to see if she would tell me by herself. She remained silent, so I tried to ask her again, to get a response from her. I barely got a word out before she cut me off.

"Lee, I don't... I don't wanna... I can't..." Her voice trembled and she took her head out from between her knees. In the dim gloom of the DS, I could see her eyes watering. Though her voice was quiet, she finally found her words. "I don't want you to get hurt, Lee. After all you've done, I can't – I won't let you do this. It's not right. It wouldn't be fair."

"What is it."

What I said wasn't a question. It was a demand.

Becca looked me in the eyes and saw my resolve. Without a word, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small box. I couldn't make out the print on the box, but it reminded me of the syringe of morphine I found in the pharmacy. Was that what it was?

"It's insulin," Becca said quietly, as if reading my thoughts. "My mom's diabetic, and she's got a bad leg. She missed her shot recently, but we didn't have any more around the apartment. She really needs her shot. That's why I needed to get it for her. Because she couldn't get it herself."

I stared dumbly at the box. Becca risked her life for her mom, and then again for me. This girl was brave to say the least. She had someone that needed help and she stood up to the task. Now she couldn't complete it, and her mom still needed it badly. I knew what had to be done.

The insulin was out of her hands before she could react.

"What are you doing? Give it back!" she protested. I slipped the box into my jacket. She tried to get up, but I forced her back down.

"Your mom needs this shot. You told me yourself," I reminded her, silencing her complaints. "You are in no condition to give it to her. But I am."

"You can't do this, Lee. Please, don't do this!"

"What about your mom? What happens to her if she doesn't-"

"It's too risky out there! I can't let you do this! You could... you could die, for Christ's sake!"

"Becca, whether you like it or not, I'm doing this," I crouched down so I was face to face with her. She was tensed up. If it wasn't for her bad leg, I'm pretty sure she would have tried to tackle me to prevent me from going. "Tell me where you live, and I'll give your mom her shot, okay?

Becca tried to stand, but once again failed. Her face pleaded with me. "Please, Lee, don't do this. I don't want you to die."

"Becca..." That prompt was all that was needed. She sagged against the wall in defeat, a single tear rolling down her cheek. I tried to ignore the tightness in my chest at her reaction. She mumbled something I couldn't quite make out. I asked her to say it again and she repeated her address, adding directions to get there from the pharmacy.

I went over the instructions again, both out loud and in my head, to memorize them. I felt fairly confident that I would be able to make it there and back with a half hour.

"Take care of Steve for me, will you?" I asked her as I searched for the bat. I was heading out on what was essentially a suicide mission, after all. I would need a weapon.

"I don't think I can do much for him," Becca said sullenly.

I stood up from under a counter and looked over at the unconscious Totodile. Steve rested peacefully under the whitish-blue of the DS. The bandage had yet to be stained red, which I took as a good sign.

"Just... make sure he doesn't die," I finally said.

"And if he does?"

I stopped as my mind raced with scenarios. I blocked them out. Didn't want to distract myself. The bleeding stopped and he was alive. Steve was going to be fine. "Hopefully it won't come to that."

I found the bat nestled under a sink in the far corner. Its polished surface was coated with a fine layer of blood, making the wood sticky. It wasn't much of weapon, but it would do. At least it was better than a frying pan.

"When you hear me banging on the door, open it," I told Becca when I reached the exit. "If you have even the slightest suspicion that it's not me, don't open this for anyone. Got it?"

Becca gave a wordless nod and I rested my hands against the metal.

I couldn't believe that I was doing this again. Risking my life for someone I hardly knew. It was safe here. There was food, shelter. Steve wasn't at risk of bleeding out.

But it was the right thing to do, and I'd been raised to always try to do that. That didn't mean it made this any easier. I pressed my hands against the bar to open the door.

"Lee?"

I stopped applying pressure instantly and turned around. It was Becca who spoke.

"What?" I asked when she didn't continue.

"Be safe out there, okay? Please, don't do anything stupid." Her voice was choked with emotion but carried some serious weight. "Promise me that... that you won't die. Please."

Never make a girl a promise you can't keep. A cheesy line from a video game, sure, but none the less true. How could I promise her that, when even I was unsure of what I was doing? How could I promise anyone that?

"I'll be fine," I said anyways. The door opened without a sound as I stepped out into the night.

"I promise."