Sam couldn't understand how his hair took him seconds to wash but Mercedes could disappear for an entire afternoon to go and do hers. Sure it was thick but did it really take that long?

They'd decided to take a half day off from their trek after finding a nice camping spot near a river at lunchtime. It was a beautiful day and the weather was warm, perfect for getting some downtime, doing some laundry knowing it would be able to dry quickly and maybe hunting for a little something extra to eat. Sam had tried, yet again unsuccessfully, to get Mercedes to join him for a swim. He knew she could swim, but she never wanted to get her hair wet, and tempting as it was to sneak over and dunk her, something told him that he'd suffer a fate worse than death if he ever attempted to try. Instead he allowed her to disappear to do her hair while he got some exercise. One of the things he missed most was not being able to go to the gym and the adrenaline he got from having a little time to himself to provide some alternative exercise to his muscles was precious. He'd taken to filling the heavy water filter and using it for lifting, working his various muscle groups from arm curls to weighted squats, the burn in his muscles making him feel alive.

After being cooped up in the cave during the rain they'd established that they needed to schedule personal time for their own mental wellbeing and it was something they'd really come to appreciate. Mercedes used it to do her hair and whatever other things females do while Sam loved to kick back. They tried to take their breaks when they were near water so that as well as filtering and replenishing their stores, Sam could go for a swim which was his favorite thing to do after he'd been exercising. Mercedes always begged him to be careful but he loved the water and couldn't stay away.

When his foot skidded on a slippery rock under the water and he fell on his side he could almost hear her voice telling him to pay closer attention. But it was fine.

Actually, he'd scraped up the side of his arm a little but a quick rinse in the water stopped the bleeding and it didn't cross his mind again until much later.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

He felt embarrassed to ask, knowing how touchy she was on the subject, but the curiosity had got the better of him. "Why do you cover your hair at night?" At first he'd thought the fact that she wore a hat to bed was to do with the cold. Hell he'd worn a hat to bed the first few nights. But as it got warmer he stopped. Mercedes had stuck with her hat a little longer until he could tell it was making her overheat. Then she started taking a square of black satin and tying it over her head instead. She'd used the satin when she was at home too. It frustrated him because he'd hoped to secretly touch her hair one morning while she was still asleep to satisfy his curiosity, but it was always tied well away before she even climbed into the bag.

"Why do I tie my hair? It's for protection." He touched her hair which was freshly braided down against her scalp and brought together into four plaits that hung down the back of her neck. It looked good but he preferred the chunkier braids that fell loose. "My hair takes a long time to do, especially without my big mirror. I don't want to get it messed up when I move my head on the pillow at night."

It made sense. He smiled when she added, "The bedhead look doesn't look as good on me as it does on you. Would you like some more mushrooms?" There she went again. Any time he brought up the subject of her hair she'd be brief then immediately change the subject.

"Sure." He held out his bowl and took the rest of the mushrooms. For some reason he was hungry today. It was probably the workout that did it.

"Do you have an itch?"

"What?"

"You were rubbing at your arm Sam. Like to was itchy."

It must have been subconsciously because he had no idea he'd been doing it. "Yeah, probably a piece of grass up my sleeve or something."

She immediately accepted his answer and shifted her focus back to her food, leaving him to wonder why it was that he'd felt the need to lie to her about it. Over the course of the evening however, the itch turned to soreness, and as soon as Mercedes went to do her nightly ritual he opened the side pocket of her back which contained the first aid kit and hastily applied some antiseptic and a dressing before she returned.

By the next morning it wasn't feeling any better and had started to throb. With no desire to seem like a baby he powered through, not wanting to risk her attention by taking more antiseptic.

By lunchtime he knew something was wrong. His whole arm was heavy and a peek while answering the call of nature showed the whole area was now red. It seemed stupid that a scratch so small should hurt so much and he felt silly making a fuss about it. So he didn't.

By the time they'd stopped and set up camp he was feeling hot and light headed.

For the first time at dinner he had no appetite. Mercedes shot him a look of concern. He always ate plenty and this was extremely unlike him.

"Are you feeling okay?"

He shrugged. "Sure. I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

Her expression said that she didn't believe him. "You look pale."

For some reason her concern just made him feel angry. "I said I'm fine."

Actually he wasn't, but he didn't want to appear weak in front of her. In an attempt to save face he ate several spoonfuls of his porridge, only to have to leave two minutes later and vomit it back up as soon as he'd been able to get out of earshot.

"Sam what's wrong?"

Her eyes were on him as he made his way back and it irritated the hell out of him.

"I told you it was nothing."

"Sam you're pale and sweaty. It's not nothing."

"Okay so I have a headache. It's okay for you to have them so why can't I?"

It was true. His head was actually pounding. She refused to reply, clearly upset by his tone. He softened his expression out of guilt. "I'm sorry. I just feel a bit off today. I'm going to lie down early and I'm sure I'll be fine again in the morning."

He stood slowly, wobbling slightly as the world started to spin around him as he moved. She reached up to grasp his arm to steady him and the pain of her contact caused pain to ricochet through his body and make him to gasp.

This time there was more of an edge of panic to her voice. "What's wrong Sam? What happened to your arm?"

"NOTHING! Just leave me ALONE!"

He didn't mean to shout at her but he was suddenly feeling terrible. Without even turning back to her he staggered into the tent and crawled into the bag, unable to stop the shivering which had suddenly overcome his body. He knew that he should apologize but he didn't feel like speaking. The sound of her clearing up outside the tent were ringing through his head as if at a thousand decibels and the noise disturbed him. Something wasn't right, he knew it, but all he wanted to do was sleep.

Drink…

There was something cold and wet against his lips.

Please Sam…

He could hear a beautiful voice but she seemed so far away. Everything hurt and it was somehow about a thousand degrees.

Who was Sam?

He was shivering uncontrollably. He knew that it wasn't cold yet he couldn't stop himself. His teeth were chattering yet he was hot and lightheaded. It was a strange sensation and he didn't like it.

His lips felt dry and parched but someone was dripping cool water on them. It took all of his strength to open his mouth slightly and take a couple of sips. Even the effort of that seemed to be exhausting but he felt refreshed for having taken in the liquid. He knew that he wasn't right, but he was too exhausted to reflect on what might have been wrong. His world was floating before his eyes. Mostly he saw his baby sister with her wings. She looked so happy and so peaceful. He tried to call out to her and talk to her but whenever there was a reply it was in a different voice, a musical voice, but he couldn't really make out the words well.

Somebody was making him drink a vile tasting liquid. He didn't want to but somehow he knew that he should. Whenever he did he was rewarded with refreshing coolness. Somebody was wiping him down with what felt like a cool wet cloth. Whatever it was and whoever it was, it was one of the greatest feelings he had ever experienced. One arm felt heavy and limp but it didn't matter when the rest of him was being cared for so well.

Shhhh…

He was speaking. He knew that he was speaking but he also knew that the words made no sense. Somehow his mom was there and she was stroking his brow. He missed this and he missed her. When he was sick she always took such good care of him and it was great to have her back. She sang to him softly and rested his head on her lap, playing with his lengthening hair between her fingers as he reveled in her gentle touch.

Rest…

Sam woke up feeling like shit. His head was like lead and his body ached. Mercedes was next to him but something felt different. His mouth felt stale and as parched as a river bed in drought and if it wasn't for the fact that they had no alcohol he would have sworn he had a hangover. Also his bladder felt ready to burst. A small shifting movement instantly revealed several things at once. He was wearing different clothes to the ones he went to bed in. Wait- make that a different top because he wasn't even sure he was wearing pants at all! He just sneaked a look at his arm which was less sore and mysteriously properly bandaged when he felt Mercedes stir. A split second later she was fully alert and staring at him.

"You're awake!"

He opened his mouth to reply but all that came out was a hoarse scratchy sound. Mercedes just kept staring at him with an expression which was 90% relief and 10% something else he couldn't work out.

"Here. Sip this." She held a bottle to his lips and without questioning it he took a few sips of the water, letting it loosen his tongue from the roof of his mouth. As he drank she touched her hand to his head as if checking for a fever and again looked relieved.

"Mercedes?" He struggled to sit up but everything started to spin.

"Not so fast-"

"Pee!"

"Oh…" Sensing the urgency she unzipped the bag. "Do you need a hand?"

Why the hell would he need a hand to pee?

Staggering out of the tent he understood why. Barely able to stand with the dizziness and nausea and too desperate to be ashamed of the fact he was only in his underpants he staggered about 5 steps before having to relieve himself where he stood. It should have been further away from the tent but he just couldn't make it. It urine was extremely dark, strong and smelled terrible. What the hell was wrong with him?

Two steps back to the tent his legs gave way and he sank to his knees.

It was dark and Mercedes wasn't there.

Sam frowned, struggling to remember. He went to pee and Mercedes had had to help him back.

Then… nothing!

But at least he was feeling a little better.

Turning to the side he saw his water bottle and next to it the boxes of fever and infection medication which were nearly empty.

And then it dawned on him.

First he drank the water and shut his eyes for a few seconds, letting his body absorb the liquid, before seeing the neatly tied dressing and noting his arm was far less red and angry. Dragging himself up he pulled on some pants and took a deep breath before unzipping the entrance of the tent.

Mercedes was there by the fire with her back to him. He knew she had to have heard his approach but she didn't move or turn towards him. Instead he saw as she stiffened her shoulders and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I was just about to wake you up. I've made us something to eat…"

"Mercedes." He gently touched her arm and she jerked as if he were a stranger. "Mercedes?"

She turned and looked up at him with eyes shiny from tears. It hurt him to see her like that, her eyes as big as saucers as she struggled to find words. "You're, you're feeling better now?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Thanks to you."

She stared at him with an unreadable expression. "Good. I'm glad you're doing better because now I can kill you!" Reaching forward she shoved him, making him lose his balance for a split second, before forming her hands into fists and starting to pummel his chest.

"Hey!" He caught her hands easily, there was no force to the blows and the second he touched her she dissolved into sobs. Instinctively he pulled her close into his chest and let her cry there.

"I was so scared Sam! I thought you were going to-"

"Shhh…" He kept his voice soothing but that only made her angrier.

"Don't shush me! How could you be so stupid? Why didn't you say anything?" Again she dissolved into tears, her pain evident.

Her reaction and the fact that he'd got through so much medication told him just how serious this was. "How long was I out?"

"Nearly two days." She took a ragged deep breath and pulled back from him, again wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "The night you went to bed early you ran a fever. You didn't even know who I was and I had to struggle to get water and medicine into you. It didn't break until the early hours of this morning. And then you just slept. You must have been exhausted. We both were."

He didn't doubt it. He had visions of Mercedes up with him while he was delirious with fever. Words would never be able to express how thankful he was for it. His Guardian Angel in oh so many ways. He touched her face to force her to look him in the eyes. "Thank you Mercedes. Thank you for saving my life yet again."

Yet again he was mesmerized and lost in the deep dark pools of her eyes. They held the stare for several heartbeats before she finally broke it, dipping her head and pretending to busy herself with the food. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was only a graze. I didn't want to worry you."

"I wouldn't have worried. Why don't you understand that?"

Sam hung his head. "I understand that now. I'm sorry I yelled at you before." It was two nights ago and he'd been sick, but she still deserved the apology.

She nodded. "I know. You didn't mean it."

How she could always be so forgiving he would never know.

She handed him his bowl and pulled herself together. "So how did you even hurt yourself anyway?"

As he ate and explained what happened the exhaustion hit. For the second time he was unable to finish his food. it was starting to make him feel sick. This time he decided to be honest with her. His priorities were to pee again and rest his heavy head. But no he didn't need any help.

It was still early and when she returned to the tent she didn't immediately lie down. Instead she maneuvered herself to sit behind him so that she could rest his head on her lap. It was an oddly intimate thing for her to do. The space was cramped and yet it also felt like a familiar position and he wondered how much of the last two days they had unknowingly spent like that. His body seemed to melt against his and he could only watch as she took the spare water bottle from her side of the tent and gave it to him. Still feeling parched he reached for it, thankful at her kindness. Bur when the liquid from his bottle hit his lips he immediately recoiled. It tasted vile! This wasn't water!

"What the hell is this!"

She glared at him. "It has fever medicine, a bit of extra salt and the broad spec antibiotics in it. You were in no fit condition to be able to swallow tablets and you're overdue your next dose."

"I'm not drinking that! It tastes like shit!"

She glared at him and he couldn't be sure if the angry stare was more for the refusal or the use of cursing. It was clear that she wasn't backing down. "That stuff saved your life Sam. You drank it when you were semi-conscious and you'll drink it now!"

Her expression was like stone and he had no inclination or energy to disobey, swallowing the bitter liquid like an obedient child, hating that she was right. When every drop was gone she handed him her own bottle. "This is just fresh water to wash it down. You're going to have to flush through a lot of liquid in the next couple of days."

He silently agreed with her. His pee had still been dark and disgusting and smelly. Not surprising if he hadn't been for two days. He needed to get his body out of its shutdown.

"Mercedes?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm sorry."

"You already apologized."

"I know, but..." He shifted uncomfortably but didn't want to lose his physical contact with her, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about my arm. It didn't realize how serious it was. I shouldn't have allowed my pride to stop me from asking for your advice on what to do as soon as I started to feel off. It was wrong of me."

She nodded but said nothing. But something about her expression made him think that maybe she knew just how hard it had been for him to say that. How it went against the grain for a man like him to say something like that to a girl like her. More so for the fact that he genuinely meant it. He didn't do humility. It wasn't part of his upbringing or his Sector Culture, but he was having to because it was the right thing. He knew that it was the right thing and he needed her to know that he knew that.

Yes he was the man, but she… she was something else!

Even thinking was exhausting and his head was comfortable on her lap while she was absently played with strands of his hair, twirling them around her finger. He spent the next few moments basking in the feeling of relaxing in comfort, knowing that the comfort wasn't coming from the sleeping mat which had seen better days. It was her. He raised his head slightly and looked back into her eyes. "Thanks for taking care of me."

She looked down at him with an unreadable expression. "I had no choice."

"Yes you did. You had a choice right from the start and every single time you've chosen me. I nearly killed you but you helped me and took care of me every step of the way."

"It's what I had to do."

"You didn't have to."

"I respect life Sam. All life. I'm not here to judge. It would have made a hypocrite of me to read my bible then leave you to die. Respect for life comes in different forms. It's not about just killing, it's also about taking care."

"Is that why you wanted to be a doctor?"

"Partly. And partly because I know I would be able to pass the exams if I was allowed to train."

"Maybe when we get to the Sea you can train. I'm living evidence that you'd make a fantastic doctor."

"It was just a fever."

"I don't doubt for a minute that I could have died without your intervention. If I'd been alone I would have ignored my arm until it was too late. With nobody to give me water and medicine and cool my fever who knows what would have happened."

"You might have been okay."

"No I wouldn't. You made it okay." He wanted to say more but he was overtaken by a huge yawn.

"Shhh… Go back to sleep for a bit and when you wake up we'll try and eat something again. You have to keep your energy up."

He simply nodded, suddenly feeling too tired to argue.

When he awoke he could tell that it was late, but Mercedes still fixed something small for them to share so that he wouldn't have to pass the night on an empty stomach. She was stunned when he admitted that he'd never had anyone care for him like that since his parents died. Sam's arm still felt heavy and he assumed it was the remaining infection in his wound but it was already so much better than before. When they turned in for the night, his mind drifted to the fact that she'd undressed him. How much had she seen? Maybe he'd never find out as he doubted she'd ever admit it. But somehow things now felt a whole lot more intimate.

They both lay awake in the dark, listening to the sound of the great outdoors. Normally they'd fall asleep quickly but this time the emotion and disturbed sleep pattern of the day left them both tired yet awake. Clearly his words were still playing on her mind because suddenly she asked him a question.

"What was it like living with Zeben?"

Her words surprised him. They never really spoke once they hit the sleeping bag. It always seemed strangely intimate. But hell, now that she'd already stripped him down and wiped his body with cool cloths during the worst of his fever a little conversation could no longer really be seen as intimate.

"It was okay."

"Did you miss your parents?"

"At first. But then I got used to being with Zeben and didn't really remember much about my life before. I remembered events rather than day to day life."

"Didn't Zeben ever take care of you when you got sick?"

He chose his words carefully. "Zeben was practical. I didn't get sick very often but if I did he'd me medicine. But for what you're thinking the answer is no, he wouldn't have made me soup or sat with me through a fever. He believed in men being tough. From the moment I moved in he treated me like a man."

"So he wasn't really a father figure?"

"Zeben had no kids. He never spoke about his own upbringing either. Everything for him was about being practical and functional. He didn't treat me badly, he just didn't do the whole father thing. Like with school. If I didn't want to go he didn't make me. When I chose to quit he didn't force me to go back."

She paused. "Is that why you don't like reading?"

So she had noticed! "Partly." Again the darkness helped him to speak. "Letters and words get jumbled up for me. I always had a hard time at school so it was easier not to go. I can read enough… to get by."

Again she paused. "I can help you with that you know."

He stayed silent.

"That's if you're actually prepared enough to swallow your pride and accept help."

She knew him far too well!

Her voice continued to fill the silence. "The jumbled up letters thing – that's called dyslexia. Most teachers don't know how to deal with it or won't take the time."

That got his interest. He'd never heard that before. "How… how do you know about that?"

"Quinn. She was dyslexic. She was home schooled by her parents. I saw how they taught her and how they made things easier to understand."

Sam stayed silent again for the longest time, contemplating how he felt about her offer. It said a lot about him that for the first time he didn't give an instant offended refusal. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure you can." She snuggled closer and tucked her head against his chest. "Goodnight Sam."

Yet again she proved how well she knew him, not pushing the issue like others might have. What the hell had he managed to do right in his pathetic life to manage to find her and have her with him?

"Goodnight Mercedes."

And it was a good night. He was no longer sick and Mercedes was safe here in his arms.