Sweat poured down his forehead, the urge to wipe it away was maddening but he certainly couldn't take the time to stop and do it. He adjusted Anya in his arms again, her bones pressing painfully against his aching arms. What has started as a minor hinderence now seemed like an extra four hundred pound mirelurk.. Two days trekking the wastes with little to no stopping had tested the very limits of his endurance. He could feel himself creeping toward the edge, almost about to break. He just had to make the hill, he knew he could get there if he just got to the hill.

He slowed his steps with a sigh and came to a stop, the monstrous hill looming above him, providing some shade. He had to rest here, he'd collapse if he tried the hill at a run right now. He knew he could do it though, because after that, it was a little less than a mile to the town gates. He was almost there. He checked Anya's pulse again to make sure her heart was still beating. She hadn't opened her eyes since early that morning, her breathing shallow and her face gaunt. She didn't look like she had eaten much in weeks, her arms were thin and her bones jutted out awkwardly. She also hadn't recovered from all the blood she had lost when she attacked the man, he had misjudged her injuries as the bandages he wrapped her in were now stained crimson. The real problem was the jet, she seemed to be withdrawing hard. Hard enough to suddenly start convulsing in his arms without waking, he'd never seen anyone this bad, and he'd been around a lot of junkies, had been one himself for a while.

He gulped water down, spilling over his throat and chest but he didn't care. It was a welcome cool from the hot summer sun. He stooped and dribbled water into Anya's open mouth while he chewed down a chalky protein bar. She still swallowed as he poured so he hoped that was a good sign. Groaning as he stood up, he stretched his seized muscles. The hill still loomed before him, laughing at him. He could feel himself getting weaker as he stared up at it.

Rustling through his pack he pulled out an old dusty bottle. The remnants of the label could still be read clearly as buffout, he shook the bottle and it rattled, nearly empty. He twisted off the cap and dropped two into his hand, after hesitating for only a moment he popped them into his mouth and chased it with another gulp of water. He stuffed everything back into his pack and tore a strip from his sleeve to tie around his forehead, hoping that it would stop the worst of the sweat from dripping into his eyes. He could already feel the buffout pumping through his blood stream, feel his muscles humming for movement. He strapped his bag across his back and hoisted Anya up in his arms again. Her head lolled around on its axis but there was no sign of her waking.

Everything ached but he didn't feel it as sharply as before, his exhaustion was suddenly pushed back by a false jolt of energy. It took all his will power not to sprint up the hill, the drugs would convince him that he could fly up the hill but he'd burn through them before he'd actually reached Vertville. He needed the endurance, if he could pace himself he knew he could make it.

He was already sweating profusely halfway up the hill, the ground was steep and unsteady. Every two steps forward had him sliding halfway back, the effort of it nearly sapping the false strength of the drugs. But he continued to surge on, determined to crest the hill. When he finally did it was into the full force of the sun, he blinked fiercely in the blinding light. And then there it was, glittering in the distance, the metal walls of home, calling him back.

He nearly started to run once he reached flat ground, knowing that he could eat up the distance quickly now. But he resisted the urge, knowing that once the buffout was gone, he would be too. He settled on a half trot, jostling the girl in his arms. Before he had even reached the short road that lead to the entrance gate he started shouting, hollering for the guards.

"Open the gates!" He shouted. "Open the fucking gates!" His throat strained to gasp in the air he needed while bellowing loudly. It would be just like the guards to jerk him around with their 'security measures' when he really needed in. He could see movement at the top of the wall, men shuffling, struggling to recognize the madman who was shouting at the gates. He started to cross the makeshift moat, the doors still had not moved. "I need medical attention. OPEN THE GATES!" He crossed and stood in front of the metal doors, struggling not to drop Anya and start smashing his fists against the gate. They'd never let him in if he completely lost it, but it was hard to control himself when the buffout was still pumping through his veins. He finally heard the chains groaning and the doors moved, they raised to reveal twelve guards standing in formation with rifles pointed directly at his chest, and Fisher standing at the head of them.

Fisher held his hand up for Gabe to wait, he could feel his blood drumming in his ears, anger surged through him briefly before he reminded himself that this was Fisher coming out to greet him. He was still trying to jog despite his bum leg that swung around awkwardly.

"Oh my." Fisher's eyes grew wide at Gabe's appearance, and then the woman laying in his arms. It hadn't occurred to Gabe that they were both covered in blood, sweat, and filth. They probably had better looking ghouls who came through town.

Fisher turned back the guards and started to run back the way he came. "Call the doc, get out of the way. Get out of the way, boy!" He shoved one of the slower moving guards bodily. Gabe followed closely in his wake, eyeing all of the men dangerously, daring them to interfere. They clearly had been sent to make sure that Gabe wasn't going to be a problem, but were unsure how to react with Fisher shouting out his own orders now. "Don't you see this girl? We need a medic!" Fisher grabbed one of the younger fellows by his jacket. "You go get Doc Kosh right god damn now. You tell him to come down to the café. You got that?" Fisher glared into the young man's eyes until he nodded eagerly and then released him, he took off running for the large compound at the far end of town.

"Fisher…" One of the guards stepped forward, blocking his progress with an arm. Fisher swatted it away irritably.

"You go get some stimpacks from the tower. I know you got em. The next time someone brings a dying girl to the gate, open the fucking doors." He shoved past him and beckoned Gabe to follow. Fisher's rage had momentarily shocked Gabe into a stupor, but he recovered quickly and followed. Neither of them looked back to see if the guards still had their guns aimed at their backs. They just ran as quickly as they could to the café.

Heather chewed her lip nervously, standing in the kitchen, unsure of what to do. Most of the regulars had cleared out after Fisher had been called on. There was some kind of fuss out front to do with Gabe, they said he was screaming and covered in blood, like he had gone on some sort of killing spree. Course, that could have been utter brahmin shit, but something was going on, and it wasn't good. Some had taken off to see what they could, and the others left because they didn't want to be around when Gabe returned, if he did. People were already afraid of him and his aloof manner without hearing stories about him covered in blood. There was a lump in the pit of her stomach that she had to fight down to prevent her from running to the gates with the rest of them.

They both burst through the doors not more than five minutes after Fisher had been called out. Gabe looked like he had bathed in blood and there was a twitching body in his arms that looked much the same. She wanted to shrink back but was unable to get her feet unglued from where they had rooted. They came to the counter and knocked everything clear, laying the body down. Her eyes grew wide then, it was a woman, though it was hard to tell in the usual way, she was so wasted she looked as though she might break. Her skin was pale and sickly, and her hands and wrists were wrapped tightly in bloody cloth. When Fisher pulled up her eyelids to try and rouse her they were rolled back in her skull like some kind of nightmare.

Gabe leaned against the counter heavily, trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving and his eyes darted about oddly. He didn't look like himself, he looked twitchy. Fisher tossed him a bottle of water from below and he drank it greedily in between breaths.

"What can I do?" She heard the words spill out before she had realized she was speaking. Fisher looked like he was startled, as though he hadn't even realized Heather had been there at all. He recovered quickly though.

"Water, boil some water. I'll need some clean bandages." She nodded quickly and grabbed the biggest pot they had, not sure of how much water they needed but afraid to ask. Her shaking hands twisted the spigot and let water splash into the pot and then turned to grab their meager first aid kid from the back shelf.

The woman started to thrash then, her bony body bouncing against the hard counter, Gabe struggled to hold her down. "Fisher-" Gabe started, his eyes had a wild kind of desperateness in them. It wasn't something Heather had ever seen, he had always been a rock, but the man she knew looked completely out of control right now.

"Just a seizure. It's alright, she's going to get help. We just need to hang in there." Fisher patted Gabe's shoulder, he spoke slowly and firmly like he would to a frightened brahmin. Gabe nodded like he heard the words, but the frantic urgency didn't leave his eyes.

The guard showed up with some bandages and stimpacks at the same time that Dr. Kosh arrived. The doctor looked irritated to have been summoned away from his own clinic, but Fisher didn't think Gabe could have carried the girl much further. Kosh took one look at the girl on the table and his face changed, he ignored the others and set to work on the girl.

"This one will need stitches, I think the other should be fine, though she's got a lump here, any broken bones recently?" He asked after he had poked and prodded her sufficiently. He looked around at the three of them, but they all looked to Gabe who just shook his head miserably.

"I don't know. Her arm was wrapped like they were trying to mend it." The doctor dismissed his answer and carefully twisted the arm about until he was satisfied with his own answer.

"Staining of the teeth, dry cracked lips, junkie?" He directed the question to Gabe with a raised eyebrow.

"They said she was doped up by the gang most of the time."

Kosh nodded. "Some pretty severe withdrawal then. If she's lost a lot of blood we'll try and mend that first, deal with the withdrawal later." He took out his pack of needles and set to sanitizing them and began to wash away the blood and dirt from her torn hands and wrists.

"Is that really a good idea?" Gabe asked shakily taking handfuls of the bloody bandages from the counter to the trash. Heather dumped fresh bandages into the boiling water, making sure everything was extra sanitary.

"No, but it's better than the alternative." Kosh went digging through his satchel and produced a small inhaler. Heather recognized it quickly, jet, the man meant to dope her up.

"What's the alternative?" Gabe's voice was quiet, almost weak. Heather felt herself shiver at seeing him brought so low, so afraid. Her mouth was dry and she couldn't do anything but stare as the doctor pinched the girls nose closed and pressed the inhaler to her lips. The effect was almost immediate, her posture on the counter was relaxed, and the constant shivering subsided.

"The alternative is death."

The stitches in her arm didn't look too bad from this distance, though the sheer number of them was a little alarming. Gabe watched from the doorway of his own room, having been banished along with the rest of them. Heather was the only one allowed to assist and for a while they had closed the door completely. Kosh was just finishing up now, re-wrapping the bandages around her hands so it looked as though she had stumps instead of hands. Her left arm was also splinted to keep it steady. Heather exited the room with a basket full of bloody towels and bleach, she paused at the door, looking as though she wanted to say something, but Gabe ignored her completely and she moved on. The buffout was fading from his system quickly, staying awake was starting to become a challenge as the last two days was catching up to him all at once. Fisher had insisted on him having a shower, mentioning that he smelled and looked like death. He had agreed, but had emerged three minutes later, clean enough that Fisher couldn't complain, but back outside the door, waiting.

Kosher finally packed up his bag, adjusting the few IV's he had set up on the wall, blood, water, and what Gabe assumed was some kind of supplement for food. Gabe stood up straighter then, ready to bombard the man with questions but Kosh turned a stern eye to Gabe and he felt himself wilt a little, daring to ask only one.

"She going to be alright?" His voice verged on desperation. Kosh looked back on the still form lying on the bed, he shrugged with a short gesture.

"Maybe. Looks like she went into shock trying to deal with the blood loss, withdrawal, and severe starvation and dehydration. The exposure wasn't much good for her either." Gabe flinched a little at that. He hadn't thought to protect her on the trip back, he had only been thinking of how fast he could make the journey. " On top of that, looks like she's been using heavily for quite a while, it's pretty rough on the body in that manner. I'm coming by in the morning. She's either strong enough to pull through or she isn't."

The finality of his words felt like a hot poker in Gabe's gut. With his teeth clenched he felt himself nod as though he understood. He really wanted to scream at the man, shake a better answer out of him, force him to make her better right then. The waiting was what was going to make him mad, nothing to do but wait. He felt his edges fraying.

"If she starts to go, come find me, I might be able to ease her passing. I've left another bag of blood in the cooler, when this one is through, go ahead and give her the next." He handed a wrinkled paper to Gabe, "I've told Heather how to do it, but that'll tell you how to do it." Gabe stared at it blankly, unable to comprehend what it said. "You the father?" His voice had turned steely, so much so that Gabe was forced to look up at the man, catching his eye.

"The what?" He hadn't really been paying attention before, his tone suggested he should start listening again. The words hadn't quite made sense to him.

"Are you the father? She's pregnant."

"I…"A heavy weight dropped in his gut, he had a hard time opening his mouth again. He felt the anger rise up like bile in the back of his throat. "No…no I'm not." He finally managed, realizing that Kosh was still waiting for an answer from him.

"Do you know who is?"

Gabe swallowed uncomfortably and shook his head. "I think she'd been…" He couldn't quite make himself finish the sentence. All he could see was the face of that man, leering at him from the hut, he hadn't even gotten a chance to shook him.

"Raped?" Kosh supplied, a shift in his tone suggested he was relieved to hear Gabe wasn't a part of it, Gabe had hardly noticed. "Yeah, it looked that way. Looks like she's been roughed up for quite a while now. Slavers?"

Gabe nodded. "At least I think so, they didn't seem to be doing much trading." He wished he had gotten a shot at the man now, wish he had bothered to stab his dagger deep into his belly and swirl it around, just to see the pain in his eyes as he died. They stood there in an awkward silence, he wasn't sure what the doctor was feeling, his own rage was bubbling within, barely contained.

"Did you get the bastard?" Kosh finally asked, his tone surprisingly unsympathetic.

Gabe allowed himself a snort. "No, actually she did." The stabbing had seemed violent at the time but now he was a little surprised she hadn't cut off his balls and fed them to the man. Kosh gave the girl an appraising sort of look.

"Good for her." He gave a nod. "I've got two stimpacks next to the bed here. And that blood pack downstairs. Try not to use the stims, it'll be better for the fetus if we use fewer chems to heal her."

"You want her to keep it?" Gabe tried to hide the incredulity from his voice but failed.

The doctor turned to him and shrugged. "I just want her to have a choice, doesn't seem to me that she's been given one of those in a long while." Kosh turned and walked down the stairs.

He couldn't argue with the man, a baby was just a baby, no matter how violent the conception had been. He didn't know this girl any more, couldn't know what she would want, so he would try his best not to pass judgment before she even had the opportunity. He sat in the rickety chair next to the bed, leaning gratefully against the desk, determined to keep watch while she slept. His eyes had glued themselves shut before Heather came back to check on the bag.