Disclaimer:

I don't own any characters from the movie. I do own Katya, Sasha, Tolya, Vanya. Among others that I might create in the future. Once again I own them so.....GRRRR!!!!!!!!growls in death metal voice By the way sorry for the long ass chapters. I know they're boring. Oooooo...marker.

The drowning of the 67 mustang pushes the passenger and the driver to sleep. The humming and the revving of the engine is like a lullaby to the two. The rain blurs the windshield making it much more difficult to see. The cold stain of the blood on their clothes remind them of home, and the weather there. The passengers eyes begin to get heavy, he looks at the driver and sees that she too is succumbing to sleep. Her eyelids wince a bit but continue to concentrate on the blurred road. He looks at her again before he sleeps and sees that her eyes start to close. Bad sign. He thinks, as his anxiety grows. He looks at her shirt covered in rain and blood, and notices signs of new stains. The night and the dark interior of the car, make it difficult to notice, but he does. She is bleeding somewhat heavily from a stab wound near her collar bone. He notices but all the while he doesn't mention it nor does she. One hand slips from the wheel to her stomach clutching the red ooze that is now manifesting from a new wound. Another one? Shit. He thinks, and tries to act as quickly as possible. Her eyes close completely, and the car begins to swerve. Quickly, he grabs the wheel to retain control of the car. Trying to keep the car on the road, all the while trying to wake her up.

"Hey, wake up!! Wake up!!" he yells at her in his thick accent. Her eyes snap open and she slaps his hands away, and grabs the wheel.

"HUY!! What the hell you doing?!" she gives him a stern look.

"Shto?! What the hell am I doing?! Look at you!! You fell asleep at the wheel!" he yells at her, pointing at the wheel.

"Hu ii shto? Ya mogu...." she stammers, choking on her words. Sweat begins to form on her brow, and her breathing is shallow, but she continues to drive. Sharp pains race through her chest and stomach, she squeezes the wheel for comfort. The shooting pains worsen as she continues to drive. He glances at her every few seconds, back and forth. She can't be that bad off. Can she? questioning himself. One hand moves from the wheel to the wound again. Shooting pains come more rapidly and more intently then before. Her hand clutches the blood stain on her stomach. Red ooze still manifesting itself from both wounds. Another pain returns, and she winces at the pain. Seeing the woman in pain the young man wishes to do something more. Making cursory glances at her as his anxiety grows. Her breathing becomes shallow, almost stifling. He listens closely to the pattern of her breathing. Coughing mildly, small drops of vermillion leak from her rose colored mouth. Staring at the two lips, he grows worried. Shit, he thought, she's beautiful even on the brink of death. The young man's cheek become red, blushing out of shyness and fear.

Hissing at the pain, she breaks the uncomfortable silence.

"Pull over....Cut the shit and just pull over." he says in his accent realizing that it came out a little to harsh.

"Look kid...you cut that shit out...don't worry yourself about me." she stammers, choking on some of the words. She clutches the wounds again. He tries a different approach.

"Pull over...Please, pull over....For me."

She thinks about it and sighs weakly. Downshifting, she slowly pulls the car to the side of the road. She turns the car off, and he gets out, moving towards the other side. He opens the driver door and offers her a hand, and she accepts. Finally, he thought. She leans on his shoulder as they walk to the other side. He gently seats her in the car and closes the door. Looking at her pale face and dreary eyes, he rushes to the drivers side. He gets in and turns the key in the ignition. Without hesitation, he pulls it out of park, and presses the gas a bit. Once on the road again, he looks at her then at the horizon. No place in sight, he thinks. With a woman close to death, and no place in sight, he shifts and accelerates the car. Glancing at her she begins to get weaker, and her eyes begin to get heavy. Almost there, he thinks, shit who am I kidding? Opening the glove compartment he reaches for a map. Looking for the nearest town, hospital, and of course it reads all desert, no civilization. Glancing, she's almost fallen asleep now, so he nudges her a bit. Still nothing and he slaps her face, a bit harder then intended. Her eyes open and she looks at him, and he smiles on the outside but winces on the inside. Eyes on both her and the road, he is determined to keep her awake.

"Hey, woman, woman. What's your name?" he asks nervously, scanning the horizon. She tries her best to answer and stay awake.

"Katerina. Katya for short." she stammers, wishing to shut her eyes, and she almost does.

"Wait! Wait! Katerina! Stay awake." he shakes her and her eyes open a bit, and he still scans the horizon.

"We need new names okay? OKAY? What's gonna be your name? Huh?" asking in his thicker than usual accent.

"Nadya or Lera maybe." she struggles to keep awake.

The speedometer reading 70, he finally sees a small motel far on the horizon. He accelerates the car and continues with the question.

"Almost there Katya. OKAY? Why that name huh? Talk to me Katya."

"Why? What's your's?" her eyes are closed but she faintly speaks. He takes his attention off the horizon and back to Katya.

"My name is Anatoli. Tolya for short. Katya? Stay awake, we're almost there. Okay?"

He nudges her again and she wakes up a little, each time she gets weaker. Desperate to say her he shifts again and hits the NOS button. Closer, closer with each second towards the motel. Within a quarter mile away he doesn't down shift and he continues his speed: 90. Not exactly street racing speed, he thought smiling, but it will have to do. The needle jumps from 90 to 95, 95 to 100 and no further as he begins to slow down, as not to pass the motel. He wildly pulls the car into the lot at about 50, getting dangerously close to other shit he slams the breaks. The car jerks him and Katya forward, they're almost embedded in the dashboard. The wild jerk moves Katya and her eyes snap open. Hissing in pain, she leans forward a bit and Tolya jumps to her aide to help her out. Carrying her under the arm pits he drags her to the front desk about 20 feet away. Stumbling all over herself, bleeding from all wounds, she tries to stand on her feet and keep face. The helpless Tolya is met by that of an old desk clerk. He gets out from behind the desk and attempts to carry the helpless woman.

"Please, I need medical attention." pleading to the clerk.

"Here, I'll call the 911."

"No! There's no time. She needs help now." Katya now relying on Tolya for balance and strength.

"Okay,...uh...bring her here...in this room." he leads them to a vacant room.

Tolay lays her as gently as possible on the warm bed. Her lean body curls a bit at the warm, dry feeling. He looks at her with a shirt covered in blood; her blood, and the vulnerable woman at the mercy of a kid and a clerk. She looks up at him, a weak smile plays across her lips, revealing a mouth full of blood. He looks at her trying to smile, as he looks at her, for what could be her last moments. Where's that fucking clerk?! his mind screams in desperation. Please, don't die my love...Katya, he pleads. Whispering softly to her, in hopes of comforting her.

"You're okay, now, Katya." he brushes the hair from her face.

Her face contorts with the pain, and she starts breathing heavy. She struggles against the pain, as the vermillion escapes the wounds. One hand clutching hers, and another applying pressure to the wounds, he stares at her. Her hands embrace his at the site of blood. Once again the weak smiles play across their faces. Tolya, she thinks, that's a nice name. The room becomes dark, and her eyes begin to close, and she passes out in Tolya's arms. Bleeding, and dying on him, he won't let her go.

"Katya?" she doesn't wake.

"Katya?!" she doesn't stir at all.

"KATYA?!" she doesn't reply and only the silence returns the call.

End