Samantha had to wait while the prescriptions were being filled. She went next door to a clothing store and picked Sands up some loose clothing. She found some black silk pajama bottoms and a red pair as well. She also got some sweat pants for him to wear when he was ready to leave the room. She got some oversized cotton t-shirts and some new boxers for him as well. She found some sleeping masks so he wouldn't feel like he had to wear his sunglasses to bed. That would be uncomfortable, she thought.

She grinned to herself as she thought that if he gave her a hard time in the future that she would have to dress him up like a clown. She snorted to herself as she thought about that. It could be her own little private joke. He'd never know it. She found that thought to be humorous.

Her mind drifted to the memory of the sight of his missing eyes. She suddenly realized that, when she thought that she had almost lost him, she had fallen in love with him, in love with those eyes, and the loss of his eyes was devastating to her as well as to him. Yet, he was still Sands. He was still strangely handsome even without his eyes. She hoped that he could regain his vision in some way or at the least that his eyes could be cosmetically repaired. Either way there would be a lot of recovery time needed and she was determined to see him through it no matter how annoying he might be.

She gathered up her purchases, picked up the prescriptions and stopped to grab some sandwiches on her way back to the hotel room. It was late evening and Sands was asleep when she quietly entered the room and placed the items on the small table. She sat in a chair beside the bed and watched him sleep. Yes, he was still beautiful. He was a strange combination of beauty and ugliness that she just couldn't help but be drawn to. But his ugliness was not physical. She just had to know more about him. She had to know what made him so abrasive. Why did he push people away in such an obnoxious way?

She remembered Ajedrez's words to her. It still hurt to know that he had a girlfriend. She wondered if he loved Ajedrez. She wondered why he had slept with her when he had a girlfriend and wondered whether she had meant anything at all to him or if he was just using her.

Right now she had to help him and not worry about these questions, she thought. In time she would be able to talk to him about it. For now, she needed to be as supportive as she possibly could. She reached over and grabbed his hand. It felt cold. His hands had always been so warm, hot almost. She loved the feel of his hands on her body. She remembered the way he had stared intently into her eyes when he made love to her. A sob caught in her throat as she realized that he might never look into her eyes again.

Sands stirred. "Why are you crying?" He asked bluntly.

"I'm not crying!" she protested. "I just…you're…hurt…and I…feel bad about it. That's all. I AM human, unlike you." She said that last part a bit more harshly then she intended to.

"Hmmm…well don't go getting soft on me. You're all I've got and I need you to be my eyes until I can figure something out."

She dropped his hand. "Is that all I am to you, some seeing eye dog until you figure something else out?"

"Look, Sam, I do not have the energy nor the inclination to listen to your tantrums right now. I really don't care what has got you all upset, so just get over it," he said bluntly. "I need your help. I don't want your help, but I have to take it. I have no choice."

Samantha just looked at him. "You are impossible. Do you know that?"

"Do you really expect me to answer that?" he replied.

Samantha swallowed her anger. He was injured. He was going to lash out, she told herself. That was normal. She just needed to help him and try to be kind.

"I bought you some comfortable clothes. You're cold. Let me help you get dressed," she said quietly.

Sands sighed. "I can dress myself. Thank you."

"You can't even see which direction to put the clothes on. Just let me help. It would be a lot quicker," she answered.

"I'm not a two year old!" he snapped.

"Fine!" she yelled back and threw the t-shirt, still in the wrapper and the black silk pajama bottoms at him, crossed her arms and sat back to watch him try to get dressed.

He slowly managed to sit up groaning in pain. She wanted to help him but she told herself she wasn't going to. No, he was going to have to learn to ask for her help. He was being such a jerk. He needed to learn a lesson.

His hand fumbled around until he found the wrapped shirt. "What is this?" he asked her.

She thought about not telling him but decided not to be that cruel and replied. "A t-shirt."

"What color is it?" he asked.

"What difference does it make? You can't see it anyway." She winced at her own callousness.

"Just so long as it's not pink or flowery or something equally unmanly," he replied starting to sound more resigned. "If you're going to be buying my clothes I guess I'd better let you know what I like."

She came around the bed and ripped open the wrapper and helped him get the t-shirt on. "This one is black, to match your mood. Just don't make me angry and you get to stay manly."

He snorted at her. "You seem to be enjoying this power you have over me a little too much. Don't get used to it."

"Behave yourself and life will be much easier for you," she retorted not willing to give him any more ground.

She helped him pull on the silk pajama bottoms. His fingers felt the slick material. "What is this?" he asked.

"Silk, black again, I thought it would feel better on your leg wounds. Of course you can't go out in pajama bottoms, but for the time being you aren't going anywhere anyway."

He didn't argue with her. "I'm really thirsty. Is there any tequila lying around anywhere?" he asked.

"I'm not giving you alcohol!" she said firmly. "You are on pain medication."

"Well that would just boost the effect," he whined. "C'mon I'm in pain. It would help me."

"No way, mister. Not right now anyway. You need to recover. You lost a ton of blood and for all I know the combination could kill you."

"Would that be so bad?" he quipped back. "I'd be out of your hair, then, at least."

She sighed and got him a glass of water and a dose of his medicine. She stuck it in his hand. "Here, take these. It will help. You need to take it with food so I also have a ham sandwich here for you."

He took the medicine and she handed him the sandwich. He ate the sandwich and drank the rest of the water. She took the glass from him and helped him lay back down and tucked the blankets back around him. Within a few minutes he was asleep again. There was only one bed in her hotel room so she was going to have to sleep beside Sands. She hoped he didn't make some smart remark or obscene gesture toward her.

She changed into her nightgown and got ready for bed. She realized she was starving so she ate her own sandwich and then climbed in the bed beside him, turned off the lights, and drifted off the sleep.