[Author's Note: I apologize for the length of this chapter...]

…

I suppose the expression on my face reflects my surprise, because the angel starts laughing, curling her hands under her calves and using them to pull her forward. My brain makes a dull thump in my head, hurting in a kind of vague way.

"Wha-who are you?" I manage to say. It's kind of disconcerting to see her awake and actually talking.

"Like my name? Or do you want my fucking life story?" She laughs again, and pats around her clothes, then the bed around her. "Uh, where'd my cigs go?"

"Er, you didn't have any? And, well, both would be nice…" I feel flustered. She is not what I expected.

She snorts. "My name's Saraphina. That good enough?" She continues looking for the cigarettes and I imagine the light coming from the window giving her wings. She still seems like an angel, even if she' s a rude one.

"Yeah, that's…that's fine." My cheeks are burning bright red by now. I seem to be so clunky and clumsy and I don't smoke. My headache seems to crank it up a notch, like a fork's tines in my temples. I need to make up for myself somehow, so I say, "We found you—in the road. And you weren't, er, wearing much, and I guess you lost your cigarettes out there."

"Oh, fuckling."

I can't help it. "Fuckling?" I giggle.

She shoots an aggressive glare at me, but doesn't say anything.

A moment passes in silence and I finally ask, "What were you doing out there? You could've died, or gotten bit."

She pushes air out of her nose with force, a kind of almost-laugh. "I didn't."

"No, but—"

"Is it really any of your fucking business?" she shoots at me, and I shrink back a bit, pulling the covers up to my shoulders. If she's going to be an asshole, what's the point of making conversation? Besides, she was right; I had no business asking her shit. It stings a lot because I protected her the best I could and she turns out to be—well, I don't know. But not knowing isn't stopping me from feeling betrayed. The pain moves from headache to migraine in a sudden shift and I sigh in endurance.

"Hey," she says, softer, almost apologetically. "Hey! Where are we, by the way?"

I turn over. "We're at the Y's sick bay. Our group is distributing supplies and I got hurt."

"What happened?" There's no concern in her voice, just conversation.

"I was carrying you to safety when the zombies were attacking." I sound kind of bitter, and Saraphina bites her lip in what I can only take as embarrassment.

The pain seems to stab suddenly through my brain, and I almost groan out load, but I just close my eyes and try to endure it. I've been overworking my body recently, and it's starting to catch up with me. Maybe more time in bed is better.

Faintly I hear, "Hey, what's wrong? Hey!" from the angel, but I can't focus on much and I slip into sleep.