"Zack!" Dolph cries out. "Impmon, get him!" It's another Botamon, eyes lit with crazed fury and Zack gasps, gripping his chest as he struggles for breath. Dolph doesn't know why anything would want to target baby Digimon but it's a sad part of the reality of the horror they find themselves in, so sometimes... it's a cruel part of the job that they have to destroy the young creatures as quickly as they might older ones.

But Zack, to the shock of Dolph and the partner digimon, stops him. "No, wait," he struggles out, hand still holding his chest protectively. "Wait..." Stumbling forward, he kneels down by the small digimon, his breaths still rough, raspy. "You're just scared, aren't you? You pack quite a punch, lemme tell you... when you digivolve, you're gonna be so strong..." He coughs again and reaches out for the little guy, ignoring when he hisses and looks like he wants to shoot more lung-deflating bubbles at Zack, but Zack moves just a little bit faster and, while distracting him with one hand, uses the other to press his digivice to the creature's side.

There's a blinding flash of light, Botamon cries out in a frenzy of pain, and then everything falls still. Silent. Peaceful, almost. The baby digimon abruptly starts to wail, his eyes now the normal shade of orange that all Botamon's eyes generally are and Zack collapses back onto his butt before scooping the little guy up and just holding him. It has to hurt, his breathing still sounds awful, but it's just Zack.

Like most babies, Botamon eventually brushes it off, stares up at Zack adoringly for a moment, before squirming free and hopping off to find his fellow Botamon. Dolph watches him go before kneeling next to Zack, hand warm on his clammy shoulder. "How did you know using your digivice to purify his data would work?" he wonders quietly.

"Didn't," Zack gasps, his forehead resting against Dolph's shoulder. "Lucky guess."

"You idiot," Dolph says, equally exasperated of Zack's thoughtless actions and fond of his inate goodness. "Mind?" When Zack shakes his head, Dolph slowly unbuttons his shirt and stares at the bruises already showing along his chest and ribcage. "Geez, kid. Let's get you home, get some ice... you're gonna need it."

"I already do," Zack groans out as Dolph stands and holds his hand out. Levering Zack up is difficult, because he makes these sad little whimpering noises with each movement, but Dolph perseveres, aware that he can't do anything for him here. "Thanks, bro."

"Any time, kid."