Elphaba took a step forward. As if she could do anything now. Avaric pulled her back from the edge of their overlook, and she knew by now her grip had to hurt. The Resistance must have had bad intelligence, or perhaps, like her, no one expected a shipment to mean Animal Prisoners of War.

The wreck of a door bulged and shuddered open with a metallic rasp. A Grizzly shouldered the door open and held it as the others wrenched their way free.

At least they were okay. She and Avaric could intercept them and help them find shelter.

A couple yards from the train, several of the Animals fell with a series of pops. She frowned. Had they hit something? Red bloomed on their backs, clear even from this distance.

Then a flash of metal drew her attention to the bluff on the opposite side. Gale Force? How had they known about the crash so quickly?

She had to stop them, warn the others on the train, but the engine burst out a flame that made it clear no one was still aboard. Alive anyway.

"Oz," Avaric breathed, his face a study in shock. She fought the urge to bury her face in his shoulder. "Come on." He tugged her away from the scene, but she yanked him back.

"Look," she hissed. "Someone's moving."

Buried under the others, a Fox shuffled to free itself. Still alive, though Oz knows how long.

"How do we get to it?" Avaric said. "I'd rather not get shot."

She let go of him to skid down the embankment into the bushes at the base. The light rattle of rocks let her know he followed, but her eyes stayed on the pitiful face of the Fox. She motioned for it to stop moving. It lay still, wide eyes begging for help.

"We've got to reach him."

Avaric eyed the Fox and the desperation in her face. "Alright, I'll circle back. See if the Gale Force has left. They obviously haven't seen him yet, or he'd be dead. Get him to stay still, and wait for my signal."

She nodded. A solid plan, for such improvisation.

"Fae, look at me." She did, reluctantly. "Do not move without my signal."

She waved him off. "Right, I know."

"Fae…" he warned.

"Yes, yes. Go." Each breathe brought more desperation in the Fox's face, and she didn't know how long they had to reach it.

He muttered under his breath as he retreated, "Suicidal daredevil. And they blame testosterone…"

She edged toward the Fox, wondering how long it would take Avaric to climb up to the snipers. Five minutes? Ten? If they were gone. How long to subdue them?

The Fox's eyes pleaded with her. She fidgeted restlessly, trying to convey that the Fox should be still. It misunderstood, slinking an inch closer.

Damn it. She wanted to scream for it to stand still, but that would have drawn even more attention. The Fox had freed itself up to the waist, and she could see the sticky patches of blood on its fur. By injury or proximity, she wondered.

Perhaps it didn't have time to wait. Perhaps…what if it died in front of her, and she just stood there and watched?

She couldn't take it. She slipped forward to the edge of her cover. In a crouch, she ran another twenty paces. A shout came from the bluff, and a flash of metal.

She leapt toward some trees, and a series of bullets hit where she had been, dust spraying the air like confetti. From behind the trees, she saw the Fox laid still again. Hit? No, not as far as she was. Even a stray bullet wouldn't reach that far unless their aim was terrible.

She chanced another bolt, keeping the focus on her rather than the Fox. The patter of bullets hit faster and close now without the cover of surprise. She dove for cover after only a half dozen paces. She eyed the bluff. Nowhere left to hide, and still too far to run.

She'd have to create a diversion. She scanned the area. Nothing came to her. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

The bush near the snipers rustled, shook. Avaric. There must have been a scuffle, and she heard more shouts. Then nothing.

Three flashes, steady.

Her signal. She raced the rest of the way to the massacre in the valley. The sight of so many bodies fought her focus, but she pressed it away. The Fox needed her now.

The sticky red fur on its stomach stained too darkly to be from the others. It tried to wriggle free when it saw it her, making the wound ooze darkly.

"Hold still. I'm not going to hurt you."

She knelt beside it, a palm to its shoulder to pin it further in place. The Fox bucked at her hand. "No," its voice weak.

She reached up to shuffle the bodies pinning the Fox, but it sensed her distraction, trying to break free again. "Damn it, do you have a death wish?"

"I might ask you the same."

She glanced back at Avaric, and boy, was he pissed. Eyes narrow and hot with anger glared at her from above his tight frown. She refused to shrink back. "He needed help."

"And you couldn't have just waited five Oz-forsaken minutes!" He stalked toward her with a limp, and she noticed then the unnatural tilt to his arm as it cradled his ribs. "You're lucky they didn't shoot you! Or me!"

"You can berate me later. Come on. I need an extra hand."

He balked at the dismissal, but a second look at the Fox had him holding it in place while she shifted off the other bodies. "Please don't kill me," it whimpered softly, and she frowned.

"We're helping you. Why would we kill you?"

"I'll cooperate this time. I swear."

"Calm down," Avaric cautioned as the Fox frantically fought to pull free. "She'll have you out in a second."

"You don't have to do this."

"We work for the Resistance," Elphaba showed him the miniscule tattoo on her inner wrist, easily dismissed by those who didn't know what to look for. "See?"

Wide-eyed, it balked against Avaric's hands. "Please, let me go. I'll do whatever you want. I can get your information again. Oz, I wasn't even supposed to be here. If Maximus hadn't been hauled back early…Please, I'll say anything you need me to."

"How about you shut up," she snapped, frustrated, and it paled.

Mouth clamped shut, it bobbed a nod, and she fought a growl of frustration.

"We're not going to hurt you."

Its eyes found her tattoo, and it slunk back. "I don't want to die," it whispered. Then it flinched, and pressed its lips tighter together.

"For Oz's sake, you can talk! She didn't mean it."

It looked suspicious. "I thought Animals should be seen, not heard."

"Aren't you listening?" she fought to keep her voice even. "We work for the Resistance. We help the Animals."

"No one helps the Animals," the Fox retorted, eyes on its paws. "Not even us."

She flinched at the words. This had been their fault, after all. But Avaric's voice thrummed calmly, "Where did you come from? Do you know where you were held?"

Elphaba dropped to her knees as she finally freed it, trying to assess how bad its injuries were. "Anything you remember might help. A long drive? Any ohers there? Anything at all."

"The old factory base, again. I knew I screwed up, but as bad as Maxi? Surely not."

The stomach wound spread too large to lift it. The Fox hissed as she felt for the source of the bleeding.

"Who's Maximus?"

Avaric repeated the question, and the Fox blinked at him, its eyes glassy with pain. "He almost got away, too. Someone came for him. But they must have known. They brought him in."

She met Avaric's eyes over the Fox. Their asset?

"I guess it's a matter of time," it continued, its voice softer, weaker.

The body on top had a scarf, and she slipped it off and pressed it to the Fox's stomach. It yelped, but she pressed steadily.

"Until?"

"Until…we…lose. Ourselves or the war or the will to carry on." The Fox laid his head back, eyes closed, as she bandaged its stomach. She could only do so much. They needed a doctor. "You do…help?" It shook its head slowly. "Tell him, say… in Camidg. The next part is in…"

"Tell who?"

"Maxi." Its eyes were closed. "In Delaney by now."

"What's in Delaney?"

"Not what, who."

Avaric shot Elphaba a look, but she didn't respond. The blood had already seeped through her makeshift bandage. If they didn't get him fixed up soon…

"Who, then?"

"Of," a long pause, a deep swallow, "the…"

Elphaba shook her head. "No time. Let's go." They shifted the Fox on the makeshift pallet, but it was clear that would be pointless. The Fox laid still.

She tried to lift it still, pushing Avaric toward his end of the pallet. "Come on. Hurry."

"Fae…" Avaric's soft look glanced off her.

"Pick it up. We've got to go!"

"Fae, it's over. There's nothing you could have done."

She cursed and set him down. For Oz's sake, why could she never seem to… She pushed away the thought. No time for self-pity. "Alright then. Let's go."

Avaric reached out to her, but she skidded away.

"I'm fine. Let's go."

He followed her up the hill to the horses, leaving her to brood.

Some string of missions lately. Failure after failure, and the first success? A train full of Animals killed in some trap. Why? Were they sympathizers somehow? Faulty intel? Had the Gale Force found out and turned it against them?

Regardless, the Fox's face swam in her memory, taunting her.

Avaric took the lead as they rode to town. On the outskirts, he stopped at a faded blue motel, its walls pocked with patches. A place of blind eyes and deaf ears, where everyone held his own secret too tightly to seek out another's.

The sky had darkened, and not just with evening. She felt her time ticking away. Tucked against the wall, she eyed the narrow eaves and their slim protection. Come on; hurry up.

The first drops patted the pavement as he returned, a large brass key dangling from its chain. "Which?"

"Number 4. I could only get us one room, without registering."

"Fine." She scuttled toward the room, positioning Avaric between her and the light drips of rain. "You can send a message to Zephyr."

"Me?" His eyebrows rose, but she only snatched the key away. She shoved it in the lock and wrenched the door open. The room was fairly clean, if small and outdated. But most importantly, it was dry.

If Avaric noticed the cause of her apprehension, he kept it to himself. She told him how to contact Zephyr, and he set to work at once. Perhaps he thought it a sign of her trust. Which, she supposed, it was, no matter how she'd been cornered into it.

He returned, tiny rivulets of water dripping from his hair.

"I asked him to meet us here to debrief." Avaric flopped into the lone chair. "Let the rain be his problem."

She tossed him a towel.

"You alright?"

"Course. I'm not the one all wet."

He swallowed a smirk. "Oh?" The towel hid his face as he ruffled it over his hair. "Afraid it's a matter of time?"

"Nothing here to worry me about that."

His laugh burst free, soft and warm. "If you say so." He eyed the bed. "You bring pajamas, or are we sleeping au natural?"

"I'd imagine you'd get very cold, sleeping naked in the bath."

"The bath?"

"You think you're sharing my bed?"

"You mean, my bed. I believe I paid the bill." He angled closer, and she shrunk back from the water that clung to his neck and wrists. He froze, eyes studying her reaction. "But I can be a gentleman, despite what you might think."

He hadn't moved, and so neither did she. She steadied her breathing. "Shocking, but very good for your health." She kept the tone light, but he narrowed his eyes.

"Spit it out. What is it?"

Her lips pursed tight, but she belied her tension with a breezy, "What you mean?"

He reached out a hand, and she dodged it, her back thudding against the wall. "That. And you know it."

She crossed her arms. "If you think you're going to seduce me like all those other little bimbos…"

"Yes, yes, I'm a philandering idiot. What's really bothering you?"

She ignored his penetrating gaze by studying the ceiling with mock outrage. "Because I couldn't possibly just want you to back out of my personal space."

He leaned toward her, and with nowhere left to go, she considered sacrificing an arm to brush past him. "If you want to talk personal space, perhaps we should discuss that stunt with the oil."

Her eyes widened with betrayal. "Fine. Forget it. See if I try to make you feel better again."

A flicker of regret passed over his face, but he quickly hid it. He reached out an arm, and she snapped her hand away with a hiss.

"Don't touch me!"

He studied her posture, the way she cradled her arm. "You're hurt?"

"Not if you keep your hands to yourself. Then we'll both survive without injury." Her eyes flashed at the threat, but despite his frown, he didn't back off.

"Why?" His eyes bored into her. "You have about five seconds to tell me what's going on before I find out for myself. So unless you want me to strip you down and play doctor, you'd better fess up."

The heat that rushed to her cheeks at that took her by surprise, but she could tell he was serious from the odd worry on his face. And though she could put up a hell of a fight, she wouldn't be able to physically stop him. Not if he intended to see it through.

He met her eyes, promising that he meant to do exactly that. "One…two…"

"It's the rain," she snapped back. "I have a skin condition."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"What, no dig? Here, let me. 'No kidding.' Or maybe, 'Is that why your skin is so hideous and green?' Or even, 'So that's the smell.'" She shoved away from him, hissing at the contact.

He didn't say anything, but his eyes trailed her as she retrieved her pack.

"Whatever. Just try not to shake water on everything like the big, dumb animal you are."

She stalked to the bath. New clothes and a fresh oil cleaning made her feel calmer, but she was still loath to face him. As it was, he was quickly stacking up all her vulnerabilities against her. She would have to kill him after this mission. Simple as that.

She squared her shoulders, determined not to let Avaric control her behavior. She would not be afraid of anyone, least of all a spoiled little brat like him.

He had dry clothes on, his wet ones neatly folded by the door, along with the towel. He'd rubbed his hair dry, frizzy from his efforts, and he fought to tame it now with a narrow-toothed comb.

She stalked over to the bed and retrieved the burn ointment for her arm. It was slight, but she knew it would sting at her all night if she didn't shut it up now. He watched her quietly.

"Stop looking at me," she snapped, and a slow smile crept over his face.

He edged toward her, that stupid smirk on his face still. "All dry now."

She lifted her eyebrow and gave a sarcastic nod. She turned away.

"So you'll need a new excuse for running away from me," he spoke softly, sitting behind her.

"Oh, Avaric." She tossed him a smile over her shoulder. "I don't need an excuse to want you as far from me as possible."

His laugh was soft, but he didn't bother arguing. She decided he had the right idea by holding his tongue. She would just ignore him. She shook out her hair and set to remaking her braid for bed.

The rain had thickened outside, a heavy patter sounding on the thin motel roof. It was oddly lulling. She let her eyes close, exhaustion from the day creeping through her. Her braid could wait. She'd deal with the tangles in the morning. That drew a wince. Whatever. Tomorrow's problem.

She startled when a comb scraped through her hair from behind. She spun to face Avaric, but he set a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Can we skip your grousing and just let me do this?"

"No." Her spine was stiff, but she didn't pull away. He chuckled softly, the comb drifting lightly through a new section.

"So you have to do this every night? Seems kind of a pain for a revolutionary." His fingers dug through a particularly difficult knot. "Ever think of cutting it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

She drew in a deep breath as the comb ran through the hair over her bare arms. She tipped her head back before she caught herself. His other hand came up to stroke his fingernails lightly over her scalp. Long, gentle strokes that lulled her resistance.

"Not that I'm complaining, of course." He twisted a lock around his fingers. The hair spun out, and he tugged it taut. "So soft," he whispered, a breathy laugh fluttering the hair by her ear. "Only soft thing about you."

She felt a flicker of annoyance, but she was too tired to argue. As it was, the rain and comb combined to make sleep press tight to the front of her eyelids.

"I can see why you hide it away," the words shimmered in the air between them, and she wondered if he'd even meant her to hear. The cape of hair fell smoothly over her back now, and she lifted her arms to braid it. He caught her hands. "Always hiding. And fighting." How could it be both?

"It'll tangle," she sighed, wanting to sleep and forget this miserable day happened, if only for a few hours. Maybe he was right. She certainly felt like hiding.

He let the comb trail over the skin of her neck, shoulder. "If only something could help with that."

"It's annoying. Gets everywhere."

He hummed a response too close to her neck, and she shifted away. Her fingers firmly divided and braided the hair, immune to his sigh. With the plait off her neck, she felt more like herself. The odd calm traded for control.

"Thanks."

He quirked a smile. "Don't mention it."

"Still not sharing the bed."

He leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Why not? Afraid of something?"

She ignored the warmth of him at her back. "I wouldn't put you past assaulting me the second I fall asleep."

"If I were going to assault you, what's stopping me now?" He let his nose trace the corner of her jaw, and she jerked away. "I think you're afraid of you assaulting me."

She barked a laugh. "Not for all the mud in Quadling County."

He stood. "Fair enough."

Her conscience prickled, and she adopted a sincere tone. "Look, Avaric, you're not…despicable, after all." He answered her with dry thanks. "But I'm not some trophy bimbo that's going to fall for your charms. I'm sure you have plenty of other options. Do me a favor, and stop trying."

He crossed his arms. "Sure, when you're willing to admit that you actually have a heart underneath that cold witch persona."

"I never said-"

"For more than the Resistance. You want everyone to think you're so cold." He cupped her cheek, and she pulled away. "Warm enough to me."

She flashed a tight smile. "Glad to see you have some standards at least. I'd hate to have a necrophiliac for a partner." At his smirk, she realized her mistake, but she wouldn't take the word back for fear of looking even more ridiculous.

Avaric clicked off the lights, and she burrowed her way under the thin blankets. She tossed him a pillow, and he settled down on the floor beside her.

The weariness of the day notwithstanding, she couldn't find the sleep that so recently had threatened to drag her down, ready or not. She turned to the other side, and back. But all she saw when she closed her eyes was that train afire and the stack of bodies covering the Fox, who'd literally died in her arms. She flipped back to face the window. Rain tracks traced rivers down the glass, but her mind refused to be appeased.

"It wasn't your fault."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Sh! Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Us? Got another girl up there?"

"You wish."

"I do," he confirmed with a chuckle. "Might have a chance with her."

"You think if I had a girl in bed with me, she'd want to sleep with you?"

Avaric's throaty laugh brought a smile to her face that was gratefully hidden by the dark. "Now that's an image. Mm, either way."

They fell back into silence, and she squeezed her eyes shut, frustrated at the sleep dangled so tantalizingly close and yet just beyond her fingertips.

The rain slowed. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She twisted to face window, ceiling and wall without result.

"Can't sleep?"

"Not if you keep bothering me," she hissed back.

"Fae, come on. Stop beating yourself up about this."

She started to argue, but he cut her off. "If it's your fault, then it's mine, too. And honestly, I can't take more guilt at the moment." The image of him, head low and spattered with blood sprang to mind.

"How's your leg?"

"Fine. Better than my ribs." Right, she'd meant to check that, but between the rain and his stupid smirk, she'd forgotten.

She shifted to the edge of the bed to squint at him in the inky shadows. "Wrap it already?"

"Now you care?" She glared, though he probably couldn't see. "Sure. Probably just bruised, but you can give it a go."

She slid out of bed and relit the lights. Avaric huffed a complaint as they both shielded their eyes. "Up."

He complied, sitting on the edge of her bed. He slipped off his shirt, his bare chest far too familiar a sight. She studied the bruises, testing the bones. Avaric hissed as she pressed one spot a bit harder than intended, and she pulled back.

"How many were there?"

"How many gets me in that bed instead of the floor?"

She handed him his shirt back, convinced that nothing had been broken. He shrugged it on, and now that she'd noticed it, his movements seemed to scream with awkward angles. "Get in the bed."

"Seriously?"

"Before I change my mind."

He tumbled into the bed as she sent them back into darkness. She felt her way to the pillow and stretched out on the floor. "What're you doing?"

"Letting you have the bed. Now shut up and sleep, or I'm taking it back."

"Take it back. You're not sleeping on the floor." He sat up, but she sighed.

"So what? You'll sleep on the floor, too? Or are you planning on forcing me to sleep on the bed?"

"Why, Fae, trying to tempt me into tying you to the bed? You only have to ask."

"Idiot." His fingers reached out and tugged on the fabric he found. "Fine," she sighed, "scoot over. But you'd better keep your hands to yourself."

His extra warmth made the thin blanket a little more effective, and she focused on the practicality of it. He misunderstood her tension and whispered, "Each day a new step, Thropp."

"Yeah, a step too slow and more than a step behind." She faced away from him. "And that was before we started working against ourselves."

His hand found hers and gave a soft squeeze. "We'll work it out."

She huffed. "No good deed, huh."

"I hope not. I'd hate to think all this was for nothing."

Morose, she wanted to disagree, but she settled for a vague grunt. His presence, oddly soothing, took her out of her thoughts enough for sleep to claim her.