The moment Nil woke up, he knew something was wrong.

Traveling with Aloy had become natural after only two short weeks, and there were things he now took for granted as much as he did the thrill of the hunt. One of those things was the sound of Aloy's breathing as she slept, a familiar, even rhythm that always accompanied him whenever he took watch at night, so when he roused and heard that rhythm stuttering - a harsh, rattling dissonance that jagged at him like an arrowhead - he was immediately on alert, lurching upright and turning to where his companion was resting.

Sunlight dappled the inside of the shelter he'd constructed for them the previous day through the holes that had opened to release the Annihilator's final attack, and the uneven patterns of sunlight and shadow took a moment to adjust to. Aloy was lying on her right side on her bedroll, her spear clutched in her hands, and for a moment, he wondered if maybe she'd cut herself on the blade, the way she was twitching…Twitching? Aloy didn't twitch in her sleep, when she rested she was almost as still as death…

Frowning, Nil got up and approached her slowly. He knew she didn't like it when he watched her sleep, but he also knew something was amiss. Up close, her freckles seemed to stand out more starkly than usual against her pale skin, and her expression was tense; as much as he knew she needed her rest, he also needed to make sure she was truly resting.

"Aloy?" he murmured, putting a hand to her shoulder and shaking her gently.

In a flash, her eyes snapped open, her spear coming to his chest as she lurched upright. For a moment, his breath caught, feeling a rush at finally finding himself at the other end of her blade. Then, just as suddenly as she'd roused, she cried out as though in pain, the point of her spear dropping as she curled in on herself.

Nil frowned - the sudden shift didn't suit the unstoppable, unconquerable Aloy. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing," she snapped at him. "I'm fine!"

Unconvinced by her defensive tone, he raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm fine," she repeated, pulling away from him and turning onto her back so she could sit up straight. "I'm - agh! - fine…" But she was grimacing, wincing as her left leg hit the bedroll.

"Your leg," he said, and it really wasn't a question; knowing Aloy, there was no way everything was truly okay. "Let's take a look at your wound."

She glared at him, clearly still mad at him for putting Itsurk out of his misery, though he still couldn't fathom why. But he had a bad feeling about this, and really didn't have the energy to waste on being exasperated with her. Putting up his hands, palms out, he scooted back to give her space, making no comment when she grunted with pain as she brought her left calf up to her hands to untie the wires that held the boar skin in place. Hissing and groaning, clearly hurting, Aloy unwrapped the animal hide from her wound, ripping off the last layer with one final cry of agony.

A cloying, sickly stench hit Nil's nostrils like a blast of fire from a Bellowback, and he choked; Aloy did too. Worryingly enough, though, he thought he knew that smell, and he couldn't help but lurch forward to get a closer look at her injury. Blood matted her armor, which was to be expected, but where the actual punctures were, he could just make out the gleam of an off-white ooze that was unmistakeable. When he looked up at Aloy, he could see in her eyes that she knew what it meant, too; a look of horror crept across her face, so unbecoming of the finest warrior he'd ever known.

He decided he'd be the first to say it. "It's infected," he told her.

"I can see that," she growled.

"This is bad, Aloy," he went on.

"Oh, you think?!" she shouted.

"We don't have any medicine, you can't walk on this leg - or creep up on and override any Machines - and we're hours away from any settlement on foot…or any people, at all, unless Kryse comes along, which I wouldn't bet on," Nil said, thinking out loud. "We can't get any herbs, because the Deima control all the herbs in the west-"

"And my antidotes only cleanse corruption and poison, not disease, and animal extracts help repair flesh but don't cleanse infection, yeah, I know, Nil," Aloy finished impatiently.

Neither of them said anything for a minute; Nil's mind was racing, and he knew hers was too. What exactly could anyone do in this situation? Weighing the scant few options in his mind, he sighed, realizing there was really only one reasonable course of action. "I guess there's nothing else for it," he said. "Is there?"

Those eyes that could be green or gold depending on the light flashed with rage, her hands going for her spear again and bringing the point up to his neck; she was like a cornered animal, ready to strike. "If you think I'll go down easy just because I'm hurt, you've got something else coming!" she snarled.

Nil blinked; as thrilling as it was to be at the point of her spear, her words didn't make any sense. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You're going to kill me, right?" she hissed. "Put me out of my misery, like you did Itsurk?"

"What? No, no!" he exclaimed, shaking his head emphatically. "No, Aloy, I'm not going to kill you. Not like this, at least - if I'm ever lucky enough to have the pleasure of killing you, you'll die on your feet, weapons in hand and strength in your limbs. I swore I wouldn't kill you unless it was in a fair fight…and loathe as I am to admit it, you're not capable of a fair fight in this condition."

"So what then, you'll just leave me behind?" she asked. "Go on by yourself, leave the dead weight to the Scrappers?"

"Go where?" he all but laughed. "Aloy, I'm not the one with any goal or destination in mind, I'm only here to have your back. And that's what I'm going to do."

"What are you saying?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at him.

"I'm saying, lie down," he told her. "Lie down and rest."

"What?"

"Even without medicine, you can fight off the infection on your own," Nil stated. "It's just another kind of battle, one being waged inside your body - and you're strong, Aloy, there's no battle you can't win. So rest, and recover, and while you do, I'll take care of you."

"You'll-?" Aloy's hands dropped to her lap, still clutching her spear, her head tossed back as she burst into hysterical laughter. "You'll…take care of me?!" she wheezed through her mirthless cackling. "You?! What could you possibly know about saving lives, Nil?!"

"I was a soldier," he reminded her; "basic wound care is part of any soldier's training. I'll admit it's not my specialty, but I know the basics. Besides, it's not like we have any other options." Not wanting her to lash out, he resisted the urge to tug her spear out of her grip, but he did put his hands forward to encourage her to settle back onto her bedroll. "Now, lie down," he told her. "Save your strength, focus on fighting the infection."

It was a mark of how dire the situation was that she actually obeyed, though she didn't let go of her spear, nor did she stop glaring at him. Taking a moment, he sorted through what little he'd retained from lessons on what to do about an infected wound. He'd never had to actually use the knowledge - if a soldier's wound got infected during Jiran's reign, they just ended up in the Sun-Ring - but there had been lessons on it, he was sure that he knew what to do, if he could just remember…

"Alright," he said, scooting back, "you stay here, and don't move. I'm going to go get some more water, and kindling for a fire; when I come back, I'll clean the wound, okay?"

"This is all your fault to begin with," she grumbled. "Why didn't you hunt enough meat to brew an animal extract last night? I could have healed before the infection set in."

"Aloy…" He shook his head, chuckling slightly. "I fought the Annihilator too; I was exhausted, and most of my remaining energy was spent building this shelter. Besides, if I had drawn a bottle of animal extract and offered it to you, you would have just snapped at me - I offered you the meat I did hunt, and you refused it."

"You took my last bottle of medicine and used it on yourself!"

"You're the one who gave it to me," he argued calmly. "You said you were fine, and had your armor anyway, so I could have it. I was on my last legs; even if I wasn't selfish, I would have had to be stupid not to take it, considering we both thought the fight was over. Now, stop talking and rest."

"Don't think for a second that I trust you," she snarled.

"Well, you're going to have to," he shrugged, grabbing his collapsable pot from the ashes of the previous night's fire, "because I'm all you've got out here."

Her furious growl followed him as he shifted aside the patchwork entrance he'd cobbled together for one end of their shelter and emerged into the late morning light - they had both overslept, though considering what they'd achieved the previous day, that was perfectly understandable. The land around the border of the Oasis was still ravaged from the battle, any greenery had been torn to shreds and the earth was exposed, covered in boulders the monster had hurled around. Suddenly realizing they would need more than one pot, Nil jogged to where the Annihilator had fallen, annoyed but not surprised to see a cluster of Scrappers devouring the remains.

Resigned, he drew his bow and nocked an arrow, the Voice of Our Teeth singing true as ever - he hadn't unwound the coils, so he didn't even really have to aim, each arrow felled a Scrapper with ease. It always felt so unfulfilling to fire arrows at Machines, the crack of metal on metal just didn't have the same appeal as the sound of splitting flesh, but there was a certain amount of satisfaction to be had in seeing something that was once moving abruptly fall before it even registered his presence. Besides, he wasn't done with the dead mountain they were trying to eat.

There had been pieces of the Annihilator's armor that hadn't been of any use for building a shelter because of how rounded and deep they were, plates that capped the tips of where the legs met the body, but they were perfect for carrying more water, and Nil gathered all four - luckily, these didn't have holes in them from that final burst, it looked like they'd simply opened for the spikes. The dead Scrappers, too, had metal vessels and other useful resources, which he harvested, digging through all the scrap for anything that could be even remotely helpful here. There were metal bars, Machine sinews, other tiny bits of armor…Knowing he would need everything he could get, Nil took it all. When he was satisfied that the dead monster had provided all it could, he turned and quickly jogged back under the treeline, headed for the stream he'd found the previous day.

Not wanting to make several trips, he tried to fill his pot and all four metal plates at once, but this proved difficult to carry. A little maneuvering and he had it, balancing two of them on his forearm against his chest and carrying the pot by the handle while lifting a third plate in one hand and the fourth plate in the other, but it was an unwieldy setup, and he had to head back a lot more slowly than he would have liked. By the time he made it back to camp, he half-expected to see Aloy dragging her way towards the Bacchan settlement by her fingertips, but she was still lying on her bedroll when he pushed his way back inside.

Quickly as possible, he set down everything he was carrying, propping the armor plates up on rocks and their packs. Once his hands were free, he ran outside to grab some timber and some more rocks to help keep everything from spilling over, and finally, he was lighting a fire under his pot to boil the water clean. As he dug through their packs for spare bandages to boil with the water, Aloy spoke up.

"What are you looking for?"

"Rags, to clean your wound," he replied. "And bandages." Finding what he needed, he threw the scraps of cloth into the pot, then drew his knife and planted it in the flames before turning around and approaching her, kneeling at her legs, eyeing the site of her wound. "The armor and clothing around that are going to have to come off," he told her. "Your leg's already swelling, and I can't get the wound clean if there's fabric holding filth against it."

"There is another way," Aloy said softly.

"Is there?" Nil blinked, looking up to meet her eyes where she'd lifted her head. "I'm listening."

She closed her eyes. "I could just cut my leg off."

"What?" Nil exclaimed.

"You could go and hunt in the Oasis, kill as many animals as you can, enough to draw potent extract from the meat," she said; "then, I could just…cut my leg off, at the knee, and drink the extract so I won't bleed out. Extract heals damage, not infection, but if I cut away the infection, I can heal."

"But then you wouldn't have a leg," Nil pointed out.

"I also wouldn't have to depend on you to take care of me," Aloy retorted, opening her eyes to glare at him.

"Is that what this is about?" Nil shook his head. "Aloy, this isn't the time to be prideful. You need your legs. If you were missing half a leg, how could you stalk or chase your prey? How could you climb Tallnecks or ruins, or ride Machines? How could you fight? No. We're going to save your leg. You'll be fine, Aloy."

Aloy frowned, then suddenly giggled. "My leg or my pride, huh?" she asked softly, falling back onto her bedroll. "I have to choose?"

"If you want to think of it that way," Nil shrugged. "Personally, I won't think any less of you for letting your leg heal. If anything, fighting off this infection without medicine would be just another testament to how strong you are."

"You are so backwards," she mumbled.

"I wouldn't complain," he remarked, turning back to grab his knife - surely, it had been burned clean by now. Bringing the blade back to Aloy, he told her, "Now hold still."

"Wait!" she lurched up into a sitting position, hands out to stop him, gasping as she did so; she looked unsteady, but she didn't fall. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to cut the armor away," he replied. "I told you, we need to get that wound exposed so it can be cleaned properly."

"No," she snapped, shaking her head. "No, you're not cutting anything, Nil. I don't trust you."

"Don't trust me?" he repeated; she'd confused him more times in this one day than he'd ever been before in his life.

"You think I'm going to let you put your knife so close to my skin?!" she sneered. "No way. You won't just cut the leather, you love blood too much."

"I'm not going to harm you," Nil stated, mustering his patience.

"You won't be able to resist," she spat.

"I can and I will," Nil told her firmly. "You know the rule I live by, Aloy - honor above pleasure, always. There's no honor in spilling blood from someone who's crippled like this." He couldn't help but grimace at how the word felt on his tongue, but it was the truth. "Besides, I swore an oath. You have nothing to fear."

"I don't trust you," she repeated adamantly.

"Well, the cloth needs to come off, one way or another," Nil sighed. "I can't clean it when it's all wrapped up like this."

"Are you trying to take off my pants?" Aloy asked scathingly.

Sighing heavily, Nil sat back and closed his eyes. "Aloy, this is starting to get insulting," he groaned. He took one long, deep breath, then met her gaze again. "I live by one rule, and one rule only, and that rule is honor. You know this. I don't care if you hate me, I don't care if you think I'm disgusting, but you can trust me, and you're going to need to."

Her eyes met his, hazel and silver locked in a silent battle for a long, tense minute. "You can't cut this armor anyway," she said at last. "By the time you wear down the shield, it'll just recharge." Looking away, she eyed her injury. "I…have leggings on underneath, though…"

"What are you suggesting?" Nil asked, deciding it was probably best to give her as much control over the situation as possible.

"I'll take off my boots, and my leg armor," she told him, and she shot him another glare. "By myself."

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "As you say," he conceded, and he turned back to continue preparing what he'd need to treat her injury, sticking his knife back in the fire so it would stay clean.

While the water started to boil, he set up a second rack over the flames to dry the bandages once they were ready, trying to shut out Aloy's pained groans and exclamations as she worked her way out of her armor despite the swelling in her leg. Nil truly hated the sound of someone in pain when they weren't actually dying and he wasn't allowed to kill them - it was such a damn tease, a hint of a taste of what he loved doing most that he wasn't able to act on. Gritting his teeth, he focused on the positive aspect of her struggle: the ferocity she was displaying even now, doing as much on her own as she could even as incapacitated as she was. Even wounded, Aloy was still unstoppable, and he admired her for that. It was an honor to be by her side, even now. Especially now.

After a couple of minutes, he had nothing left to prepare, and Aloy's pained exclamations had gotten louder. Nil turned, and saw that her boots were off, and her right leg was covered only by leather wraps that were slitted and stitched just loosely enough that the skin underneath could breathe. She was trying to peel the armor off her left leg now, and between the pain and the swelling, she was understandably struggling.

"Do you need help?" he asked, deciding to prod her a little.

Her face whipped around to shoot a glare at him, sharp as arrows. "Stay away from me," she snapped, pulling at her armor with renewed vigor. "I don't - gah! - need you, or - aagh! - anyone, and you - aaghah! - are so damn - aah! - disgusting, evil, I - rrgh! - hate you so much - yaagh!" With one last snarl, she managed to peel her armor free of her left calf and toss it aside. Gasping for breath, she glared at him again. "I would rather it be anyone else here, anyone else in the world. Even Sylens."

"Well, I'm what you've got," Nil stated, smirking slightly. "You're welcome, by the way; I'm glad I could get you through that by being the subject of your unbridled hatred."

"Don't pretend you did me any favors," she hissed.

Nil just chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he came over to examine her leggings. "I'll have to boil this clean later," he murmured, taking her leg armor; the left leg was drenched with blood, and a little pus. He put her pants by the fire, then grabbed his knife again and returned. "Okay, I'm going to cut your injury free. Lie down."

"I'm not taking my eyes off you," she growled. "Not when you could cut me at any moment."

"Ah, but the chance you might retaliate is tempting," Nil told her, only half-teasing. "I could resist the urge better if you lie down."

"I won't retaliate," she told him coolly. "I'll scream and cry like a baby until your ears bleed."

He laughed. "You know me too well," he chuckled, taking her left knee with his free hand. "Fine, suit yourself."

The light wasn't ideal for this scenario, especially tucked up against the wall as she was, but he could see the way the swelling was straining the stitching of the leather. There was no loose cloth below her knee, and if he was going to avoid cutting her, he had to start almost halfway up her thigh. When he finally got a good pinch, he carefully worked the point of his knife into it, gripping the blade right near the end so he could work precisely with the curved weapon that hadn't been designed for such things, his gauntlet and the callouses of his bow fingers protecting him. It didn't come easy, and he had to pull and saw at the worn hide almost dangerously hard.

"This is tanned a little too well," he remarked to Aloy. "You do this yourself?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Rost stopped making my clothes when I was ten, when I decided I wanted to be able to do it on my own and not depend on him…or anyone," she added pointedly.

"This is an extreme situation," he stated, trying to reassure her. "Soon as you're healed, you'll go back to standing on your own."

Getting a handle on it, the incision started coming easier, and soon enough, he had the sheath cut free from the part attached to her waist. That done, he moved so he was crouching over her, pulling the leather away from her skin as far as he could as he started sawing at the stitching down the outside, towards her injury. Once he reached her knee, the going was slow, he could barely cut a single strand before he had to readjust if he wanted to avoid cutting her flesh.

"Swelling's worse than I thought," he muttered as he worked.

Aloy didn't respond, though she was hissing with pain.

At last, he'd cut the stitching away to the level of the front wound. The oozing hole was just to the side of where her bone was, for which he considered her extremely lucky - if the infection had been combined with a broken bone, things would be a lot more complicated. Peeling back as much of her legging as he could, he lifted her foot so he could get a good angle to start cutting the rest of the infected area free. It was worse here, far worse, the infection was deep under her muscle right where he was sawing at the leather, but every wire's breadth of cloth that came loose was a triumph.

Finally, he passed the second hole, pulled back, and removed the ruined leather from her leg entirely. "Boil that clean later too," he said, putting the detached leg sheath with her armor - it was even more drenched with sickness than the pants. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Aloy stated.

The rags and bandages were well-boiled now, and Nil pulled them out of the scalding water, scrubbing his hands as clean as he could with one of the pieces of burning fabric - there was no time to wait for it to cool, he wanted this done with. Once the bandages were drying, he brought the pot over, laying the rag he'd washed his hands with under where her infected calf was propped up, to catch any further disease he might wash off. Gritting his teeth, he started scrubbing her leg, doing his best to ignore her pained cries - it wouldn't do her any favors to be gentle about this. Pus oozed from the holes when he pressed on the worst of it, and he blotted the poison away and grabbed another rag, trying to get as much of the infection out as he could. If they'd had medicine, it might have been best to lance it and drain it all, but with nothing to keep the sickness from mixing into her blood, that was a risk they couldn't take. Scrub, scrub, blot, scrub, blot, scrub…When he was satisfied, he dried her swollen leg and wrapped the injury in clean bandages, heaving a sigh of relief as he finally sat back, dragging the soiled rags and water keg away.

"Done," he told her. "That should be good for the time being. Now rest, and fight."

Aloy said nothing, and he looked over at her. Her eyes gleamed with suspicion, the madness of a wounded animal.

"You'll be okay," he told her firmly. "You're not going to die like this, Aloy, I won't let that happen. The greatest warrior in the land deserves a better death than this."

"So that's what it is," she said softly, closing her eyes.

"Among other things," he shrugged, working to improve his setup - it would be good if he could boil several containers of water at once while still drying boiled rags and bandages.

A rustle indicated that she had in fact laid back down, and he kept busy with what needed to be done. It was starting to occur to him just how much work this was going to take, tending to a sick person…a lot more work than he thought he would ever have put into helping someone other than himself.

Closing his eyes, he summoned his most cherished fantasy, a reminder of why he was doing this: Aloy, spear in hand, her chest heaving with the exertion of a battle, bruised and bloodied as he was (he liked to think he would get a few good hits on her, at least); she would knock him back, and he'd be helpless to do anything as she finally drove her blade into his heart, a savage grin crossing her face as she claimed her victory, his blood splattering her cheeks and pouring out over her hands, those fierce eyes the last thing he saw before finally falling into oblivion. A perfect death, the one he wanted most…the one she had said she would give him if he just talked to his parents. The more he'd thought about it, the more he'd started to feel as though, maybe, it would be worth even that, subjecting his parents and himself to that kind of torture just for a chance to see her deal him a mortal wound…maybe. Besides, it would probably be easier for them if he could tell them at the outset that he was going to go die as soon as they were done talking…

"Nil?"

Blinking free of his musings, Nil turned back to the future instrument of his destruction, whom he now had to preserve by whatever means necessary. "Yes?"

Pushing herself up, Aloy grimaced. "I'll be right back," she told him.

"Back?" Nil repeated. "No, Aloy, you need to rest-"

"I need to…" Her grimace deepened. "…relieve myself."

"Hm? Oh. Oh, shadows!" Nil cursed, slipping into Carja parlance for a moment, a bad habit he still fell back on when he was surprised. "I didn't think of that…" Gathering himself, he shook his head. "You can't walk on that leg, Aloy."

"I'll manage," she insisted, struggling to rise.

"Let me help you," he told her, moving to pull her up.

"You're not coming with me!" she snarled.

"You can't walk like this," he said, trying to get her to put her arm around his shoulder; already, he could feel that her skin was too warm. "At least let me help you leave; I'll give you your privacy once you have a spot."

"I don't trust you," she growled, but maybe she was starting to realize that she didn't have much choice, as she let him help her up anyway, leaning heavily against him.

"And, here," he murmured, reaching over into the pot and pulling out the last few boiled rags he hadn't used to clean her wound. "To clean up. You might not have the strength later."

She glared at him, but took the wet towels and tucked them into her belt, and they made for the exit together.

It felt so wrong for the mighty Aloy to have to rely on him for support as he helped her hobble out of the shelter he'd built for them, both of them doing their best to keep any amount of pressure from being placed on her injured leg. Aloy, helpless? Every single bit of that notion felt wrong in every way, like a bow without a string. Slowly, they made it into the outer forest, though what they were looking for, Nil didn't know. How exactly was she supposed to tend to her basic needs, by herself, with a crippled leg?

"There," she grunted, pointing with the arm that wasn't wrapped around his neck to hold her upright. "Get me to that branch, I'll be able to brace myself between the trunk and that rock."

"Clever," he remarked, half-carrying her to the tree she'd indicated. As soon as she was able, she reached up and grabbed a thick branch that poked out from low on the tree, and he felt her weight on his shoulders lift as she pulled herself up. "Very clever," he added as she started heaving her way towards the trunk where the tree was growing beside a boulder, climbing hand over hand along the wooden limb. "Your leg's out, but your arms still work."

"Uh-huh," she grunted.

Her movements weren't effortless, like they had been when she'd scaled the Tallneck - the infection was sapping her strength, strength she really shouldn't have been wasting, but he couldn't blame her. "I'm going to go hunt," he told her, "and change out the water if I have time. Shout for me when you need my help to get back."

No response at all came to this, most likely because she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge the idea that she would need his help for anything, which he also couldn't blame her for. Satisfied that she was at least able to take care of herself to this extent, he turned and left.

It was too late for extracts, and it probably wouldn't be wise for her to eat solids at this point; as he carried two boars back to their camp, Nil had already decided he'd make stew, trying not to focus on how out of his depth he was here. Aloy needed him, and he had sworn a vow - after all they had shared, he had no choice, and he would do his best. The water in his pot had to be changed out, wash water wasn't for food, but he hadn't used the four armor-plate-bowls of water for anything yet, so he didn't have to go out for more. He set to his tasks single-mindedly, as he was in all things, determined to make this work. All he had to do was keep her alive, and as comfortable as possible, so she could recover through her own strength; how hard could that be?

He was just throwing the meat into the makeshift cauldron when he heard a scream that could only be Aloy - not a cry for help, more as though she was hurt. Alarmed, he dropped everything and charged out and into the forest, hoping he was remembering the direction they'd gone, trying to follow the sound. After a minute, he found her, collapsed in the undergrowth a short ways away from the tree he'd left her at.

"Aloy!" he called, running over to her. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she ground out, pushing herself up to glare at him.

Not buying it, he looked up, and saw that the branch she'd used to support herself ended right overhead. "Were you trying to get back to camp on your own?" he asked.

"Didn't want to call for you," she muttered. "Don't need your help."

Nil sighed. "Come on," he told her, gathering her up, "you shouldn't be exerting yourself like this. Save your strength, Aloy; the battle within you is only beginning, you have a long way to go."

She groaned in protest, but her attempts to pull away from him were weakening by the second. Heat poured off her body, even through her armor, and Nil frowned as he managed to help her up.

"Your fever's getting worse," he said. "You need to rest." Noting that the wet towels were gone from her belt, he added, "Did you at least do what you needed to?"

"Yeah," she replied, panting. "Yeah, that's all taken care of."

"Good." Patiently, more slowly now, he helped her back to their camp.

"Are you enjoying this?" she hissed. "Me needing you?"

"Not at all," he answered. "I don't think I could enjoy this less. If there is one thing you're not, Aloy, it's powerless; to see you weakened like this is like seeing a blade without an edge, it's not right. But you'll be okay, I promise you, you'll recover. I know you will."

Carefully, he shifted aside the patchwork entrance to their shelter and helped her inside, trying to keep her from putting weight on her leg.

At last, she was back on her bedroll, safe and resting. "Are you comfortable?" he asked her.

"No," she murmured. "Armor's too tight…and it's too hot in here…"

"Then let's get your armor off," he suggested.

"No…" she groaned, though the bite had left her voice. "Not around you…Can't let my guard down, Avad made me promise…"

"Aloy, if I wanted to hurt you, your armor wouldn't protect you right now," Nil stated firmly. "If anything, the weight would just make it harder for you to fight back. I'm not going to hurt you, but even if I was, you'd be better off removing it."

Aloy mumbled something incoherent, then started fumbling at the fastenings on the odd mix of leather and old-world technology that shielded her from any attack. After watching for a minute, seeing how weak her fingers were, Nil sighed and reached forward to help, and she didn't fight him. A minute later, he was helping her arms and torso free, and she feebly pulled the odd headdress off her forehead, which was slick with sweat. Even in the dappled light, she looked pale as snow-flash, and he didn't even have to touch her to feel her fever.

"That better?" he asked as she settled down, now wearing only her clothes and her necklaces, the carved bone and the little globe perched on her chest.

"Leg," she grunted. "Right leg. Too hot."

"You want me to cut off your right legging, too?" he asked.

"Yeah…"

Nodding, he did as she asked, needing only to make a single incision around the leather covering her thigh to pull it off of her without any struggle. Once that was done, he stared at her, every fiber of his being rejecting what he saw. Her arms and legs were bare, her skin pale where it wasn't an angry, inflamed red around the bandages, and the sweat at her brow was turning her crimson hair a dark brown…It wasn't really even Aloy anymore…

Shaking his head, Nil turned back to the stew he'd left boiling, which was almost done. "You need to eat," he said, "but you shouldn't waste energy chewing. I'll pour you a bowl of broth and help you drink it, okay?"

"Not hungry," he heard her say.

"I know," he responded, "but you need to keep your strength up." Not waiting for her to argue, he poured a bit of the fluid from the stew into a smaller bit of the Annihilator's armor, almost a cup of sorts, where it would cool off quickly, and brought it to her. "Here," he said, lifting her head with his free hand, "try to drink this."

Given how she'd been acting, he half-expected her to make a remark about how it was probably poisoned, but she seemed to lack the capacity to argue anymore. Slowly, he poured the broth down her throat, and she swallowed, weakly, choking, but she managed. The fever was rising way too fast - wasn't there something about making sure a person didn't get too hot? Nil racked his brains as he settled her back on her pillow and put the makeshift cup aside…

Suddenly, he remembered something, from a life long past, and for once, it didn't annoy him to have the memory. Grabbing one of the bowls of water he'd started to boil and a shallower plate of armor, he put the shallow dish by Aloy's head, carefully arranged some rocks inside, and set the bowl of water on top. Then, he reached into their packs and dug around in their resources until he found a canister of chillwater, which he cracked and dumped into the shallower dish, just enough that the icy liquid barely touched the bottom of the bowl. That done, he searched their packs again before eventually coming up with another spare rag, dipping it into the cooling water and stirring it around until the change in temperature had sufficiently taken hold - the water wouldn't freeze, but it was cool, right on the verge of painfully cold.

"Here," Nil murmured, taking the rag out and squeezing it half-dry, and he put the cold cloth on her forehead.

Aloy moaned, and this time it wasn't a moan of pain. "Ooh…that feels good…" she told him.

"Doesn't it?" he smiled.

"More," she croaked.

He nodded, dipping the rag back into the cold water and returning it to her brow, trying to wipe away some of her sweat. Her eyes opened as he did so, and she looked up at him. "Where'd you learn to do that?" she asked him.

"I got sick when I was nine," he answered, shrugging, not really thinking about what he was saying. "We couldn't afford medicine, so this was all my mother could do. I mean…we couldn't really afford the chillwater, either, my father had to hunt it off a Lancehorn himself, but he said it was worth the scar he got on his forearm for it."

"Couldn't afford…?" Aloy said softly.

Nil blinked, realizing he'd been too proud of himself for knowing how to help her to notice that he was reciting memories he'd forbidden himself from ever acknowledging.

But it was too late. "Nil…" Aloy whispered, shifting slightly to look at him better. "Were you…poor, growing up?"

Unwilling to say more, he simply nodded, refreshing the rag with more cold water and putting it to her temple again.

"Your parents," she went on, sounding a little more like herself. "You didn't tell me about them, only about your sister."

"That was intentional," he informed her shortly, still working to cool her down. "You know I don't like to think about any of that."

"Do you have any other siblings?"

"…No," Nil replied, deciding that was a harmless question. "Only my sister."

"And your parents."

He gave her a noncommittal grunt, trying to focus on his ministrations - her fever meant that the rag didn't stay cool for very long.

"Tell me about them," she requested softly. "Please, Nil?"

"No," he said flatly.

"Please?" she asked. "I want to know…"

Pursing his lips in frustration, Nil sighed. "Tell me your secrets and I'll tell you mine, Aloy," he stated. "That was the deal."

"I told you a secret yesterday."

"Did you?" Nil blinked.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "When I told you about the Sun-Ring…how I was scared. I never told anyone I was scared, and I didn't let it show - I taunted Helis, the Behemoth, the crowd. I…had to act tough. Didn't want Helis to have the satisfaction of knowing I felt…so helpless…"

"Trouble with being a legendary warrior is that no one can think you're human," Nil remarked. "At least not one with human emotions and human weaknesses…better to let everyone think you're something else."

"Exactly," she sighed. "But I told you. Don't know why."

"Hm." Nil considered this for a moment, his hands finding a rhythm of wiping her forehead and dipping into cold water. "Tell me one more, then," he said. "My parents count as two secrets, so tell me a second one of yours, and I'll tell you mine. Double or nothing."

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"Something you would never tell anyone," Nil answered, unable to help a small smirk that tugged at his lips. Her sweat had been washed away, so he could leave the cool rag on her forehead for a minute or so, and he sat back. "Not your parent, not your sibling, not your mate, not your best friend. Tell me…well, what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done? Something that makes you sick to look back on, you're so ashamed? It's only fair - if I could be ashamed of anything I've done, I've already told you all the possible stories."

"Can you feel shame?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Nil shrugged. "I never have, and I have no reason to think I ever could. I'm told it's painful, though."

"Figures," Aloy muttered.

"So, that's the deal," Nil stated. "Tell me the most embarrassing thing you've ever done, and if it's embarrassing enough, once I've laughed at you, I'll tell you about my parents."

"You could always not laugh at me," she pointed out.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked. "If in fact you've ever done anything particularly embarrassing to begin with."

"Hmm…" She frowned, as though she was thinking; Nil checked the rag, and found that it was getting warm, so he refreshed it again and replaced it. Knowing what he knew about her past, he wasn't really expecting her to come up with anything, so when her eyes suddenly lit up, he was surprised. "I have one," she told him.

"Do you?" he asked, blinking. "Go on, then."

"I was seven years old," Aloy said. "Rost was teaching me to hunt Machines. We were stalking a Grazer herd, and he told me to keep an eye on them while he went and relieved himself. This had happened before, and sometimes I had to go too, but…I'd noticed he was always a lot faster about it than me. I wondered why; I thought maybe there was some trick to it that I wasn't getting. So, instead of staying put like he told me to, I…snuck after him, to watch, see what he did differently."

Nil bit his lip; if he started laughing now, she might not finish her story, and he wanted to hear all of it.

"I definitely wasn't prepared for what I saw," she chuckled. "I was so surprised, I jumped out of my hiding place and ran up to him, demanding to know what it was and why I didn't have one. And…" She shifted, her shoulders turning inwards as though to protect herself. "And…I…poked it," she confessed.

That broke him; Nil burst out laughing. Sure, it wasn't really fair to laugh at her, she hadn't known better at the time, but he couldn't help himself…

Instead of getting angry, she started laughing, too. Strange, that; Nil had noticed that sometimes people laughed when they were embarrassed, though he had yet to figure out why. "Rost was furious," she giggled. "In all the time I knew him, I don't think I ever saw him nearly as angry as he was that day. But I was so curious, I didn't even give him a chance to lecture me until he answered my questions, and by the time I ran out of questions, his anger had already started to burn out, too, so…yeah. Dodged a few arrows there."

Nil was still laughing, though he was starting to reel it in.

"He didn't tell me everything," Aloy added. "I was too young, that came later. Looking back now, of course, I understand why he was so mad, but at the time…I was just curious." She shook her head slightly, just enough to knock the rag from her forehead, and Nil quickly reached out to dip it back in the cold water and put it back on her brow. "So…yeah," she concluded, "that's the most embarrassing thing I've ever done."

"Didn't think you'd have those kinds of secrets," Nil remarked snidely.

"I was curious," she repeated. "I'm always curious…" Her smile dimmed for some reason, as though this made her sad. Then she blinked and refocused on him. "Okay, your turn," she said. "Your parents?"

The last of Nil's amusement died all at once. With a story like that, she had definitely earned it, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy the telling. "My mother grew up in Meridian Village," he sighed resignedly. "Her name was Ina. Is, she's still alive, but…Anyway, her family never had two spare shards to rub together. She was born with a gift, a…a talent, for carving." He couldn't help that his voice went slightly wistful as he remembered his childhood home. "You could give her any piece of wood in the world, of any shape or size or type or quality, and she could turn it into something beautiful. Of course, by then, the decorative arts weren't commonly accepted as a profession - some Sun-King a few generations ago decreed that Carja artisans put their skills towards the making of weapons and armor, but that wasn't her type of craft. Still, she managed to sell some of her carvings to help her family make ends meet, and the rest…" A smile tugged his lips. "People used to say that the House of Lakshar was the most beautifully-decorated poor man's house in all the land. Her parents hoped that her gift would get her noticed by some Carja noble, and she would grow up to marry into a better life, but…" His smile dropped. "Well, that didn't happen."

"And your father?"

"My father-" The words stuck in his throat. After working so hard, for so long, to not think about this particular complication to his life, it caught like the barb of a fishhook, equally immoveable and equally painful.

"…Your father?" Aloy prompted again after a minute.

Grimacing, Nil refreshed her cold towel again, trying to find a way to voice his confession.

"What's wrong?" Aloy asked. "Nil?"

"I…" He swallowed. "I try not to think about my father."

"I thought you said he didn't hurt you…?" she questioned.

"He didn't," Nil replied quickly. "He was a good man…is a good man. Or at least, I can only assume he still is, even after everything that happened…"

"Then what is it?" Aloy pressed. "Was he…an outlander? From another tribe?"

"No, no," Nil replied, shaking his head. "Not…exactly, at least…"

"What, then?" she questioned, and she smiled at him. "He wasn't a bandit, was he?"

At this, Nil couldn't help but physically flinch and recoil, the words like a knife in his chest. "No," he growled. "No, he wasn't…but…" Taking a deep breath, mustering all his strength, he ripped the knife out in one quick exhalation: "His parents were."

Aloy gasped.

"I know, I know," he said bitterly, turning his face away from her, "I'm a filthy hypocrite. The grandson of bandits hunts bandits. Go ahead and laugh."

"Nil…" Her voice was soft, almost questioning, and he found himself looking back to her without willing it, only to see the one thing that would have hurt him more than mockery in that moment: pity. "Is that why you hunt bandits?" she asked.

"No," he shook his head, "I hunt bandits because I live to kill, and in order to do what I love, I have to hunt people no one would miss, of which there aren't many. Most people are protected by some tribal law or other - there are soldiers in enemy armies, of course, but the tribes are at peace now, and there are fugitives, I guess, but I can't exactly go to Sunstone Rock and ask the warden if there are any bounties out."

She snickered, and that at least stung less than her sympathy.

"I don't have many options, and of those, bandits are the only consistent prey," he concluded. "At least, they are back east." He hesitated, then added, "If anything, it makes it harder to kill bandits, knowing…that I came from them. That I could have been one myself, if things had been…different."

All was silent for a moment; Nil refreshed her cold rag again.

"…Tell me about him," Aloy prompted gently.

He sighed; he would rather she had demanded. "My father's parents took a…vacation, from their squalid lives, to raise their son," he explained, trying to keep his voice as toneless as possible. "They lived in the outlands, and had hoped to bring him up to inherent their filthy legacy. Then one day, when he was ten, they went into Meridian Village to buy supplies, he met my mother, and, well, that was the end of that; he decided he didn't want anything to do with bandit life, or anything at all that didn't involve her. Neither family approved, but there were no laws against it, he hadn't committed any crimes himself, so when my parents were old enough, they married." He huffed a completely mirthless chuckle. "Used to be a joke around the streets…everyone thought Ina would marry up when she found a husband, and instead, her husband was the one who married up. He technically didn't have a family name to give her, so she kept her own, and passed it on to her children."

"Your father was Khane Nil too?" Aloy questioned.

"No, no, that's only for people cursed by their families," Nil explained. "He was just…well, he wasn't Khane Lakshar, a man can't take a woman's name, but he was…Jakin. Nothing else."

"Ina and Jakin," Aloy said softly, and she smiled. "So romantic…Reminds me of Elida and Atral…"

"Who?"

"Elida's the daughter of a noble in Brightmarket," Aloy said. "She grew up with a boy named Atral, who ended up with the Shadow Carja. One day they ran into each other in a special place from their childhood, and…even though it might break the ceasefire, they couldn't stop seeing each other."

"How'd that turn out?" Nil asked, glad to steer the conversation away from the subject of his family.

"The Shadow Carja found out Atral was walking out on them, thought he was spying for the Sun Carja," Aloy replied sadly. "By the time I got involved, they'd been interrogating him for hours…I couldn't save him. I barely managed to save Elida, she wanted to…be with him. I talked her out of it." She blinked and looked at him. "You must have seen her at the ridge. She was planting salvebrush."

"Ah." Nil blinked, remembering the incongruously well-dressed girl he'd seen while he was trying to look at anyone or anything other than his sister during the wait for the Eclipse's attack. "Yes, I remember her. I did wonder what a Carja noblewoman was doing on the battlefront."

"She said she and Atral are still together," Aloy murmured, her words becoming a bit more slurred, and Nil quickly refreshed the rag on her forehead again. "Said sun and shadow still meet at dawn and dusk every day. And, before…when she begged me to find him…she said something about why she kept sneaking out to see him. She said that it was like she was dead, and only came alive when she was with him."

"It happens," Nil nodded. "Sometimes, when two people meet, everything they once thought they cared about is suddenly meaningless without each other."

"Do you know what that's like?" Aloy asked.

"Not personally, no," Nil shrugged, wiping her brow down and chilling the rag again. "I don't think I ever could. I know who I am, and where I belong…and when you belong with someone, it can't conflict with any other place you belong."

"How do you know?"

"Just a hunch," he replied. "I'm a firm believer in the idea that every single person in this world has a purpose, a place. For some, that purpose is grand; for most, it's not…for some, like me, their place is entirely the opposite of glorious, but we all have a place. And for some - maybe even for most - part of that place includes someone else. But if we all have a place, then none of the places we each belong can contradict each other, otherwise we wouldn't belong anywhere."

"Hmm…" She pursed her lips thoughtfully, as though working to make sense of such a straightforward concept.

"What about you?" he couldn't help questioning. "Do you belong with anyone?"

"I can't begin to imagine how Elida felt about Atral," she stated, shaking her head, and Nil reached out to keep the rag from coming loose again. "I have no idea what it's like."

"Really?" Nil smirked. "Not even with your first love?"

"My first love?" Aloy asked, frowning in confusion.

"The Nora boy," he said. "What was his name…?"

"Varl?"

"Yeah, him," Nil nodded.

"I…don't know if I'd call Varl my first love," Aloy chuckled.

"He sounds like it, from the way you've talked about him," Nil remarked.

"I mean…I'd like to think so," she said. "I want to think there's a chance for us. But he's so hung up on Nora beliefs - 'All-Mother's will' this and 'faithless ones' that…it's hard." Her lips quirked up slightly, and she added, "But he did tell me, when he was waiting at the Alight, that even though most of the Nora who came only did it because the Anointed bid it so…" She scowled, and he understood the bitterness in her voice, how much she hated being worshipped. Then her face softened again, and she finished, "He said he would have come just to see me one more time. So maybe…"

"Maybe," Nil nodded, refreshing the rag again. "But don't give him too much time. If he wouldn't let go of his superstitions for you, then he doesn't deserve you."

"Yeah…maybe," Aloy admitted. "And it's not like I don't have any other options…There's Erend, Captain of the Vanguard, Ersa's little brother, he's…nice. I know he likes me, and I feel like I could probably tell him the truth, Oseram beliefs aren't so rigid."

"They barely exist, from what I hear," Nil commented.

She smiled at that. "Or Avad…"

"The Sun-King?!" Nil exclaimed, shocked at the notion.

Aloy nodded. "After Ersa died, he offered me a place by his side," she told him, and Nil felt his jaw drop. "I declined, told him I had to go my own way, and he apologized later, said he was confused…but…I don't think I was ever just her replacement. And he's so thoughtful, I think he'd really listen if I told him about the Old Ones, and about me, and accept it all. But…I don't know…he couldn't be with Ersa because the union of the Sun-King and an Oseram would cause another war…"

"Politics surround Carja nobles like a cage, Aloy," Nil said, quickly sorting through the situation in his mind, "and the Sun-King in particular is trapped under several layers of them…as would be his queen. And you don't belong in a cage."

"Yeah, that's how I feel too," Aloy agreed. "He's nice, but…it'd be too complicated. And…then there's Ikrie, up in the Cut, she rejects Banuk traditions like I reject Nora traditions, and her parents abandoned her as baby…I guess the Banuk have a saying, 'A child means two fewer hands to hunt.' We have a lot in common…"

"So you like girls, too?" Nil asked, surprised.

"I guess," Aloy shrugged. "I never really thought about it growing up, I was so focused on training to win the Proving so I could find out who my mother was. But I think…I think I would make do with anyone, really, just as long as…I could talk to them. Tell them the truth, of what I am, and not be worshipped or rejected for it, just…accepted, believed. Appreciated. Not like Sylens, who just sees me as useful, but someone who respects me despite it all, someone I could tell everything to, and feel truly connected with…" She blinked, then frowned, glancing at him. "But, I mean, someone I actually like, so, you know…not you."

Something sharp caught on Nil's ribs for some reason, like the tip of a bandit's knife cutting his skin but not nearly as pleasurable. "And what else would you ask of your ideal suitor?" he inquired, and he wondered at the bitterness he thought he heard in his own voice. "Maybe that they catch a falling star for you to wear on your necklace, or pull a mountain out of the ground with only their bare hands?"

"I know it's a lot to ask," Aloy sighed. "Maybe I'm just…meant to be alone. Elisabet was."

This last was said softly, but not too softly for Nil to hear. "You're not Elisabet," he told her sternly. Shaking off the last of the odd sensation, he dipped her rag back into the cold water and returned it to her forehead. "But if you're meant to be alone, there's no shame in that. I certainly feel none."

"You can't feel shame anyway," she pointed out.

"True," he chuckled. Looking up at the faint light trickling through the holes in the roof, he realized it was almost dusk already. "We've been talking too long," he told her; "I shouldn't have worn you out like this, that's my fault and I apologize. Get some rest."

Her eyes, he noticed, were slightly glazed, as though she couldn't quite focus her vision. If this keeps up, she'll be delirious pretty soon, he thought grimly. Or maybe she already was, as her hand came up to the right side of her face, clawing at her temple feebly.

"Nil," she rasped.

"What is it?"

With what looked like a tremendous amount of effort, she hooked her fingertips around the edges of the little jewel in front of her right ear and pulled it free from her skin. "Take this," she gasped, panting with exertion, unable to even hold the device up, her hand flopping down beside her.

"Take…your Focus?" Nil asked, not understanding.

"Yeah," she managed. "I can't use it like this. You should have it."

"You're…" Nil blinked, the implications slowly sinking in. "You're…giving me your Focus…to use? However I see fit?"

"Yes," she replied. "It's too useful to waste, and I can't use it. Take it."

"Aloy…" He swallowed hard. "Are you…sure?"

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, already fading fast.

Gingerly, reverently, he took the little device on her palm, holding it by the edges between his thumb and forefinger as gently as he could. That she was giving him something so important, so powerful…he almost felt unworthy. Bracing himself, he slowly brought it to the side of his face, keeping the curved side out, like it always was on her. A few wire-breadths away from the surface of his temple, it leapt out of his fingers and sealed itself onto his skin, making him jump.

Lights suddenly showed up in his field of view, little icons and displays that hadn't been there before, and he blinked several times, trying to adjust to the new information, whatever it was. He saw glyphs, but it had been so long since he'd last tried dealing with glyphs that he couldn't interpret them right away.

Curious, he tapped the device once with his finger, the way he'd always seen Aloy do, and suddenly, a web of light crossed his vision. Blue shapes appeared out of nowhere, and he looked at one, trying to make out what it was, only for Aloy's Focus to suddenly do the work for him. A display came up, with more glyphs, but he was fairly certain he knew what these ones said:

"Boar"

And it was; the shape was very clearly a boar, moving along as though grazing. Aloy had said she could see her prey through walls with this thing… "Sun and shadow," he breathed, looking around and seeing other blue shapes. Each time he tried to get a better look at one, the Focus would tell him what it was - he didn't recognize all the words, but still…it was awe-inspiring.

"Carja," he heard Aloy mutter, her voice barely understandable.

He looked down at her, the Focus still doing its thing, and when his vision came to rest on her, his borrowed second sight mapped out a full scan of her body, highlighted in blue but still more visible than she was to the naked eye in this light. A new display came up, this time with two sets of glyphs, and it took him a minute to sound them out, stymied for a moment before remembering that every glyph had two forms for some reason. Slowly, slowly, he managed to understand the one on top, and as for the one below…it didn't sound like a word at all to his ears, until he suddenly realized he was looking at the written form of her name:

"HUMAN
Aloy"

Just Aloy.

"Aloy?" he said softly, tapping the device again so most of the confusing information would go away.

"Hm?" She blinked at him sleepily.

"I have some good news," he told her: "you're human."

"What?" She blinked a bit harder now, like she was trying to focus.

"Your Focus says you're a human," he said. "Not a Humanoid, not a copy of someone else…just a human."

"Oh." A smile crossed her lips then, a truly serene smile that didn't belong on such a powerful warrior's face. "Thanks…"

"Get some rest," he told her gently, helping her settle back on her bedroll, then cooling the rag and putting it to her brow again. "Fight the infection. You'll be okay."

But she had already lost consciousness.

Taking a breath, he sat back, tapping the little device again. This was going to take some getting used to, and he was going to have to work to remember his childhood lessons on glyphs to make the most of it, but the fact that Aloy had entrusted him with her most precious possession…concerned him.

I can't let her die like this.

Setting his jaw and dismissing the web of light, he set to taking care of as many tasks as he could before night fell. There was a lot to do, and he needed to be on top of every resource they had if he was going to help her survive.

I'm prepared for the meme, you can start sending it now. I thought someone might say it in the last chapter, honestly…I mean, no one has posted any reviews to this story at all, and that's fine, but we internet-goers love our memes. And you know the one I'm talking about, don't pretend you don't. The one from older, fantasy-instead-of-sci-fi, not-nearly-as-good HZD? The really old meme, one of the oldest memes? Yeah, that one. Go ahead, I'm fully expecting it. I wonder if that might have even inspired the canonical flaw in the left knee of the Shield Weaver armor, actually…