"Joey," Joe croaked, his eyes widening. Once, Joey would have found his friend's expression comical, with eyebrows slanting upwards and the whites of his eyes blazing, like those of a frightened colt. Now, he only felt pain.

"Hey, Joe." What was he supposed to say? This wasn't something you were ever taught about - how to talk to your half-dead friend for the first time in months. Joe's eyebrows dropped, and his frame drooped.

"Is it- is... it's really you, Joey?"

"Yes," mumbled Joey, his strong demeanor failing. He rushed forwards, and pulled the pair into a clumsy hug. "But, Joe, we have to be quick. Is Lauren...?"

"I don't know," Joe mumbled, his arm reaching out clumsily once more for her. Lauren did not stir.

Hauling the pair out of the darkened room silently was not only the most strenuous thing Joey had ever had to do, but also the most nerve-wracking. What if the crazy woman showed up again? Time passed, yet it held little meaning; Joe was almost completely delirious, and Lauren remained unconscious. Joey reached in his back pocket once he had helped Joe out, finding a chocolate bar - albeit a slightly squashed one.

Joe almost seemed to have forgotten how to eat.

That was one of the saddest things, for Joey - how Joe had changed. Unable to gauge any differences in Lauren, his focus remained on Joe, concentrating on tiny things that, when added, made a disturbing total. His muscles had deteriorated, his body needing nourishment that couldn't be given. He was a shell of his former self, with dulled eyes and hair, and an almost skeletal physique.

The pang in Joey's throat didn't last long, but the moisture in his eyes refused to be banished.

Getting Lauren out was easier - Joey cradled her to his chest, with Joe looking on anxiously - even injured and weak, he felt an odd sense of jealously when he saw the ease with which Joey could care for her. Joe wanted to protect her, and he had failed. Slumping against the crooked stone wall to the left of the metal building, his eyes crumpled shut.

What was he good for now?

For Joey, the ride in the ambulance was terrifying. Joe had given in - given in to the pain, the hunger, the stress. Lauren had still not awoken, leaving Joey with nothing but fragments of his old friends, both of which were unable to reassure him.

Lauren's tiny frame seemed shrunken, and not glowing as it once had been. Her hair was darker with weeks of seeing no sunlight, dim with dust, scraped clumsily behind one ear. Joe lay next to her, on a separate stretcher, his collarbones prominent through the fabric of the thin white sheet spread over him and his decayed clothing.

Although their conditions were both stable, it seemed as though they were dead.

Author's note: I am incredibly sorry for not updating! I have one thing to lay the blame on, though: Supernatural. Also, I'm sorry for the short chapter (and probable continuity errors), I just keep reading other people's (far better) fanfictions, and lose all hope for this one. I do not, however, want to leave you home-dawgs hanging, so I will be finishing this one (not for a good few more chapters, and then there's always a possible sequel), but hopefully I'll be updating more frequently again.

LOVE YOU XOXO