He slump to the floor, realizing suddenly that standing was not a good idea. His knees run with pain, every thing he touched feeling like it was stabbing him. Rif moaned, his head ringing horribly. He might have been resistant to the damn drug, but it sure had some horrible side effects that would eat him only-so he hoped.

Blurred vision, spinning world, and a red film make him feel sick and he quickly clamped his eyes shut again.

'What are they-up to? Oh gosh-my head…Ugh…'

His fingers slowly twirled themselves through his silk like hair, holding his head delicately. It felt like it would burst open at any second. Tears flowed down his face from the pain. To much- way to much. He suddenly wanted it only to end. Wanted only to sleep in an eternity of peace. But he knew all to well that his weapons were all gone now- and Blade had been searched and striped of anything that was possibly deadly- or could be deadly. He slowly looked up, squinting at her body in the pale blue light from the materia like orbs in the walls.

Yes- he had been right. Striped of anything that could be deadly. No guns, knives, Glory- even her belts were missing as well as the few ties she had used to keep her clothing tired together. He assumed that must mean that he was missing such items as well.

Well, at least now he knew that Da'ath knew what he was doing. At least a little bit.

But- Da'ath had been stupid. He had left him with Blade. Never a very good idea. Though Blade typically got them out of this kind of mess, it wasn't beyond Rif's skill for him to do that same. Once the world stopped its mad twirls, and his mind could be set on a task other then suffering, Rif took the time to breath in deeply, slowly, and look around.

He tried desperately hard not to think of Da'ath, and what he planed to do that him once his hands got on the man. Clench his hands around his neck- watch him struggle to suck in the breath he was blessed with.

Rif slowly shook his head, feeling sharp stings behind his eyes as he did so. No. It was best not to think of Da'ath. It was a sick pleasure of his right now- the demise of that demon- and he wished not to feed the fire of desire.

His eyes went to the windows- To small. Much to small. To the ceiling- no way out there, not to mention he'd need Blade awake to even get up that high. The door was probably locked- he'd try it anyway but he know that even if he did manage to get luck and it was unlocked Sedek was probably standing right outside it.

He highly doubted he could break the walls. They looked fragile, but he knew better then to accept that. They must have dated back to the age where the Cetra had lived in peace. How would they be able to stand up to the worst of weather all those years if no built sturdily- and probably had magic helping them stay up, too.

He sat there, on the floor of the hut, looking at every corner and angle of everything- coming up with ways he could possibly escape from there. None game to mind. Half an hour passed, his head losing its throbbing and his mind slowly starting to slip in thoughts of Da'aths death and maybe his own or Blades if things went wrong. He was about to slip his hands about the silver haired mans throat for the 7th time when a low moan rose from the bed in front of him.

Blade's fingers gripped the faded and stained sheets, her fingers trembling and moving sluggishly. Slowly Rif crawled across the floor- still not daring test his legs- to her side. He gripped her hand firmly, feeling suddenly exhausted. Lying his head next to hears, pressing his cheek against her dark hair, he let his eyes slip closed.

"If we die I'm not about to let you forget that this is your fault." He said, voice soft and in a whisper that held pleasant laughter hiding behind it. "You wanted me to be a mercenary. You wanted that life, sense you had no other experiences then waitress and weapons."

He didn't expect her to reply, but he did get a sharp intake of breath from her, as if she suddenly felt the pain in her head that he had suffered through just a little while before. His eyes lazily, sleepily, looked over at her face as he saw the tears of pain roll from under her eyelashes. Smiling wearily he wiped them away, suddenly sharply aware that this was going to be it. Blade was in pain, Rif could hardly move without being drained of energy- they had no weapons, had no means of escape, and were outnumbered. Not to mention that the three outside had weapons. Guns. Drugs.

That box of something or other. The whole while he had been near it, it seemed to call to him, it seemed to tell him that this was the end. It reeked of the feel of the Reunion in his mind. It was like fingernails on a chock board sometimes, if he got close enough without wanting to, and at other times it seemed as if it was all his dreams numbing his thoughts and making him want only to do the bidding of whatever lied within the box's walls.

He didn't realize he was telling the still half unconscious Blade this, until he heard her whisper, voice almost a buzz to him, "Its Jenova."