Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  I'm too tired to think of something witty or even coherent right now.

A/N:  I have succumbed.  I have made it a romance.  BTW, I need to think up a new 'real' name for Allan.  I can't just keep calling him Allan forever, can I?  People will laugh at him.

The next eighteen hours were excruciating.   Shadow lay quietly until the drug wore off, about six hours later.  She didn't make any sound, but her breathing increased and she started to shake until he gave her another shot.  She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pained.

"We going home?" she asked breathlessly.

"To Zion, yeah.  I can't do anything about your hand."

She looked at it, wincing.  "Good call."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

She shook her head.  "Don't be sorry.  If you tried and screwed it up, then I'd be pissed.  But it's okay that you can't do it.  Hell, I wouldn't want to risk it."

He nodded, still vaguely ashamed of his inexperience.

She smiled dazedly as the drugs kicked in.  "It's good.  I like Zion.  Warm there."

He sat down by her, checking the splint.  "Tell me about it," he asked.

Her smile faded as she rolled on her side.  "Everyone lives in the well.  It's like this big sinkhole with apartments all around.  It's not really pretty, but it's like a big neighbourhood.  You know all the people who live close to you, above and below.  The heating comes from geo-thermal vents down the bottom, and it's so warm there…" Her voice trailed off and she took a deep breath.  Allan was suddenly acutely conscious that his fingers were stinging with the cold. 

"Are you cold?" he asked softly.  She nodded, curling into herself slightly.  He got up and got another blanket from the closet, tucking it around her with a care for her injured hand.

"There's this huge cave," she said softly.  "It's called the Temple.  There are gatherings there, and dances.  Two hundred thousand people, all dancing, and the drums are so loud.  Good acoustics.  It's really the only time you can actually get too hot."  She smiled again, as if just the words, the memory, could summon the heat.

"You dance?"

"Bit, yeah.  You're not allowed to go to the dances until you're fifteen.  I joined up when I was sixteen, so I only had a year of dances, but I went to a few."

"Sounds like fun," he said wistfully.

"If an orgy two hundred thousand strong is your idea of fun, then yes."

He looked at her peaceful face, her eyes closed.  "An orgy?"

She smiled gently.  "I always left before it got to that point.  Being molested not really my idea of fun."

"I can imagine."

They both fell silent, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.  He was happy to sit quietly there until one of them filled the silence.

She took a deep breath, and opened her eyes to examine her hand, lying beside her on the pillow.  "That's gonna need surgery," she stated.

"Yep.  That's why we're going home."  It didn't feel strange to call it home, for some reason.

"Oh, good," she muttered.  "These drugs don't do shit except take the edge off, you know."

He shrugged helplessly.  "It's the strongest we've got.  I can't give you anymore for a couple of hours."

She waved her uninjured hand.  "I know, I know.  It's okay.  It just hurts, is all."

"You should try to rest," he offered uselessly.

She nodded, snuggling deeper under the blankets.  He stood up and looked down at her for a moment, suddenly feeling very protective.  He remembered, with a sudden poignancy, his sister Jessica.  She had looked just like this when she slept, small and innocent, her little face puckered in concentration.  Only Shadow's wasn't puckered in concentration, but with pain.

He left her to her troubled sleep.

She woke again when the drug wore off some hours later.  This time she couldn't restrain a soft whimper.  Allan was immediately at her side.  "Are you alright?  Do you need more drugs?" he asked.

She shook her head.  "No, not yet.  Give me one minute."  She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes, calming herself.  "How long till Zion?"  she asked, her voice calm and steady.  He had to admire her tolerance for pain.

"About four hours or so.  Are you sure you don't want some more?"

She nodded, opening her eyes.  "I hate drugs.  They make me stupid and sleepy."

"It's a sedative as well as a painkiller."

"I know," she said blandly, and he flushed. Of course she knew.  "Could you get me a drink?"

"Sure," he said amiably, going to get the canteen full of water.  He helped her to sit up gently, and had to hold the canteen as her uninjured right hand was fully occupied with shielding and cradling her left hand.

He had a sudden memory of how she had fed him when had first been unplugged.  The scene seemed remarkably reminiscent of that night.  Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed the lukewarm, metallic-tasting water as if it were life-giving ambrosia.

He could feel her shoulders trembling beneath his supporting arm.  It was like holding a wounded animal.  She felt so thin, so fragile, and he wondered if she would ever be able to use that hand of hers again.  Maybe he should do something about it.  Maybe…

She emptied the canteen, and let her head fall back against his shoulder, a trickle of water running down her chin.

"You okay?" he asked softly.  She shook her head.

"I think I might like some of those lovely drugs now," she said through gritted teeth.

"Your wish is my command," he said, laying her back down on the bed and going for the syringe.

She hissed as the needle slipped into her arm, her vaunted self-control fading notably.  She shook as the drug – a stronger dose this time – took effect.  He could see the muscles in her shoulders slowly relax as the tension eased out of her.

"Better?" asked softly.  She nodded.

"That lot should last till we get home.  Them you'll be out of my hands."

"Like being in your hands," she mumbled.

"What?' he asked, not sure if he'd heard her correctly.

"Feel safe," she replied, not opening her eyes.  He thought her cheeks looked slightly flushed.  "You'd never hurt me."

"No, I wouldn't," he replied, very softly.

She curled up on her side.  "Stay with me until we get home.  Please."

He nodded and sat down.  Maybe the drugs were melting her brain.  He wouldn't give her anymore.

But he sat next to her and held her small hand until a grating noise, a clunk, and cessation of movement announced their arrival in Zion.