Author's note ~ I hope you enjoy.

Now that they were alone, he raised his green eyes to meet Newt's accusing blue. He sighed.

"Go ahead, get it out. You'll feel better for it."

"So that's it, then. You're not one of us," Newt spat, "you're honored to be offered a place here, but you won't be joining us. When you're done, you're gone. You'll be able to leave. You'll be gone, and we'll still be stuck here." The words were low and harsh, a whisper of hurt threading through the vitriol.

"That's the way it is, kid. We don't get to choose the cards we're dealt; all we can do is play what we get. This is just what I've been dealt. Fact of life." Adrian's voice was eerily calm, pouring fuel on the fire of Newt's anger. "I'd change those facts if I could; as I can't, it's a waste of time to fight against them. I'm just playing my cards, kid. You'll understand, one day."

"Understand my ass! The only bloody thing I understand is that you'll NEVER be one of us!" Newt hurled the words like a javelin, turning and all but running out of the med-hut. He never heard Adrian's soft, defeated answer.

"I know."

Another restless night plagued Newt as he lay in his hammock, desperately trying to block out the day so that he could get some much needed sleep. The clarity and contentment of the afternoon swim felt like years ago, so much had happened since that Newt just couldn't settle. His anger at the man, his resentment over being stuck in the glade with no way out, his frustrated questions, left unanswered. And, under it all, a tiny seed of hurt that the greenie, a person he already felt attached to, especially after all the pain and stress of the last couple of days. A man who made him laugh and made him think; a new friend, who was going to just up and leave. Leave him here, in hell. Tossing and turning, Newt wrestled with the noxious brew of emotions bubbling inside him.

It was going to be a long night.

Newt wasn't the only one who failed to get a good night's sleep. A dozen feet away, Alby lie stone still in his bed, eyes staring at the rough twig ceiling far above his head. He wondered if the man would really help them. He tried to understand why he would have been sent to help them. He worried that Adrian was actually a saboteur, an agent of chaos sent up to mess with their society. He thought about all of the boys they'd lost, the lives gone like a handful of dirt in the breeze. He obsessed about what to do, what was right to do, what they should do. Mind whirling like the wings of a bird, Alby pondered deep into the night.

Back at the med-hut, Adrian tried to get comfortable on his lumpy wooden cot. Stretched out full length, he too stared at the ceiling above him, mentally sorting through the information he had gathered that day, making lists and notes in his head.

The builders should show up not long after dawn; with their help, I'll get an exam room sectioned off in half a day or less. Caulk the walls with mud, build a door frame, create a space that can be private, separated, segregated from the general med areas, if need be. Start teaching Jeff, bright boy, show him he absolute basics first, just in case something happens and I don't have time to show him more. Start showing the builders the basics of weaving, get them making tiles to shingle the rough roofs. Explore immediate surroundings, look for natural materials that can be used to improve the dwellings, make tools. Do...something...about Newt.

Side tracked by thinking about the boy, Adrian closed his eyes, replaying his interactions with Newt. Angry with me. Really angry, upset, hurt. Hurt? He barely knows me. Isn't it better to let it be known, up front, that I won't be here for long? Kinder, even, so that no one gets too attached. He pictured the swim, the conversation, the good-natured tickle and noogie session. He thought about the laughter on that face, the goofy smile and breathless insults. He thought about how the boy had stiffened up, panicked when he'd put an arm around his neck, about how Newt would start slightly when he moved too quickly, tense if someone passed to close to him. Seeing the signs, Adrian closed his eyes tightly and tried to focus on other matters, practical, pressing matters that he could control. When he finally drifted off to sleep, Newt's terrified pleading sent his dreams to dark and painful places.

"Please don't, please don't, please don't!"

The morning came quickly, another bright clear day. Rolling the tension of the long night from his shoulders, Adrian limped over to the cook hut and ate a hurried breakfast, returning to the med-hut as soon as his belly was full. He had just enough time left to organize his thoughts into some semblance of order before a handful of stout boys showed up; carrying shovels, axes and buckets, lead by Gally. All projected an air of caution and calculation. Adrian nodded a greeting to them, gesturing to the back corner of the dwelling.

"Well boys, let's get started."

Without bothering to make introductions, Gally and the builders got down to it, marking an approximately 12 foot by 12 foot square on the floor, digging holes at intervals to anchor poles. Working together with minimal chatter, they brought in posts to support walls, thin branches to build the walls, buckets of mud and dry grass. Adrian showed them a new method of building walls based on ancient dwellings; mixing mud and straw to make a paste that stuck to the thin stick walls inside and out, making a smooth surface that offered complete privacy and reasonable insulation. Within a couple of short hours the first part of the build was complete; solid walls isolated the small room from the rest of the hut. The builders looked suitably impressed at the new way of building walls, and Adrian was rather pleased himself at the speed with which the boys picked up on the technique. He advised on and supervised the creation of a doorjamb, wide enough to carry an injured person through on a stretcher if needed. He had just started showing them how to create a frame that would become the door from the room when grating, thundering sound echoed through the glade. Adrian quickly got to his feet, standing with the suddenly distracted boys.

He recognized that sound. The box was coming back up.

The grinding, rattling sound of the box coming up rendered Adrian momentarily petrified; his mind lost in images from his own horrible trip in that claustrophobic metal cage. The builders glanced at each other, mildly confused but not showing any serious concern.

"It's early this week" Gally commented matter-of-factly, "Shouldn't be here for at least another two days." The other boys shrugged and, as one, turned and trotted out the door, heading to the see what was going on. Adrian shook himself out of his daze at last, coming back to himself in time to rush after the others in a fast hopping limp.

By the time he arrived at the box, everyone else in the glade was already gathered around, chattering. Unable to see through the crowd, Adrian hung onto his crutch and bent at the waist, taking several deep, steadying breaths. He was frustrated by just how weak he still was; spots danced in front of his eyes from pushing to keep up with boys both younger and more physically able than himself. Focusing on leveling out, he ignored the curious muttering from the cluster of boys. He didn't even hear his name being called at first, the boy he'd treated the night before had to slap him on the back to grab his attention.

"Adrian! They're calling for you, man."

"Thanks George," Adrian replied, repressing a wince at the overly-enthusiastic pounding on his back. The still healing bruises on his ribs ached from the thumping hand. He straightened with the help of his crutch and limped towards the box, the boys moving to either side to form a kind of aisle for him. As he got closer to the opening he could see a pile of boxes on the grass beside the square opening, and two people down in the box, obviously deep in discussion. Adrian cleared his throat to grab their attention.

"Wondered when you were going to show up, Greenie." Newt remarked acidicly, "Sorry, did we interrupt your beauty sleep?"

Alby slid a sidelong glance at his friend, curious as to the sudden hostility in Newt's voice. "Looks like someone sent you a care package, Green bean," Alby stated, gesturing at the two modestly sized wooden rated in an otherwise empty box. Across one side of the crates, a single word in bold black block printing left no doubt as to the destination of these supplies.

A-D-R-I-A-N

Adrian had the distinct feeling that being sent something personally from the assholes who stranded them all here would not be earning him any new friends. Scanning the crates as they were handed up to waiting hands, he studied the other supply crates and boxes already stacked to the side, curious as to if there was anything different about these two crates. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he abruptly noticed a small symbol on the bottom corner of each of "his" crates. A small white circle inscribed with a thick red X marked both of them. Excitement surged through him, and he couldn't quite keep it out of his voice as he let out a relieved "Son-of-a-bitch."

"What? What is it?" Demanded Newt, curiosity getting the better of him as he jumped out of the box and leaned in close, examining the plain-looking wooden vessels.

"If I'm not mistaken, the assholes downstairs sent us some desperately needed gear." Adrian explained, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Can we get these back to the med-hut? It feels like Christmas, and I've been a very good boy."

Newt rolled his eyes, heaving an irritated sigh as he hauled one of the crates up and into his arms; might as well volunteer before someone volunteered him. "I've got this one." He said, the chill in his voice failing to fully mask his desire to find out what was in the crates. Jeff stepped away from the gathered crowd, lifting the other crate with little difficulty and eyes shining with interest and a daub of hope. The trio moved quickly, eagerly, dumping the crates on an unoccupied bed in the med hut. The boys stepped back a little to give Adrian room to work, openly and unabashedly curious as to the mysterious contents. Adrian pried the lid from the first crate, pulling items out with a look of satisfaction and relief on his face.

"This is fantastic," Adrian muttered, pure pleasure shining on his face, the pile of implements and packages beside him growing as he rapidly emptied the first box. Jeff and Newt glanced at each other, mystified as to how such small items could have any real impact on their daily lives; how they could, Adrian said, save lives. Small bottles and packets with dense writing, small sealed plastic sleeves with tiny silver implements, some lengths of rubber tubing, some empty heavy plastic bags, completely sealed except for a small hose on one end. Weird, foreign items that neither boy could make sense of.

Adrian emptied the first crate quickly, moving on to the second without hesitation. More little packets, more little bottles. A whole cardboard box of silver syringes labeled "serum". At least those looked familiar; their supplies usually contained at least one or two syringes of that substance a month; so vital to save the life of someone who had been stung. Next came a large, thick hard bound notebook of some kind, then a box of colored pencils. Several graphite pencils, a handful of ink pens. Totally lost as to why such things would be included with a box of med-hut supplies, the boys stepped closer as Adrian dug to the very bottom of the box and pulled out a large brown envelope. His name was written across the front in an untidy scrawl. The boys held their breath, curiosity burning as they edged closer, trying to see.

~Ruby