Someone was singing. It was a soft voice, a female one. A woman was singing nearby, holding his hand.

My mother. the sleeper thought with a comforting sense of security. Then he frowned. She died when I was a baby. So who's singing?

It's a fuckin' trick. the Other sleeper snarled drowsily. You're surrounded by enemies. Wake up and kill the fuckers.

No. We know that voice.

Now that ya mention it...

Yeah. Livy.

Why's she holding our hand? A wave of dull pain shot up Dec's leg and through his groin. Oh shit... That fuckin' bug poisoned us.

Yeah. We better see what it looks like.

Well, we ain't dead yet. Up and at 'em.

Declan opened his eyes, turning his head slightly and looking at Livy. She sat beside him, her delicate thumb rubbing over the knuckles of his hand as she sang, her eyes regarding the dancing flames of the fire as it's light turned her skin dark gold.. He didn't recognise the song entirely. It was a product of Earth, so out of place here... yet her voice wasn't. Her voice was a bridge, a way of connecting with a world he'd never had much to do with even when he lived there.

"Hey, Livy." his voice was a croaking whisper, yet she heard him and gave a happy-sounding gasp.

"Dec! You're awake! Oh god... What happened?" Dec licked his lips. His tongue felt dry and swollen.

"Feel like shit. Water?" he rasped. Olivia nodded, filling a cup and holding it to his lips carefully. Dec tried to lift his arm to take it himself, but the heavy limb barely lifted more than a few inches before he had to let it flop back down again.

"Careful." Livy cautioned him. "Something nasty got you. You should see your leg." she glanced at it, then looked back at his face, a faintly sick expression on hers. "On second thoughts..."

"Don't need to. Can feel it. It's fighting my entire body right now, but the leg feels like it's on fire." Dec gritted his teeth. "Even my hair hurts. Fuckin' careless bastard." he swore at himself. His silver eyes were clouded in pain as he looked up at her. "Describe the wound to me, Livy." She nodded and peered at his leg.

"It's red and swollen all the way from knee to ankle, except for a sunken-in bit around the sting itself. There's black blotches around that area too. Further up..." she swallowed. "Your veins are showing red, Dec. It looks terrible."

"Okay." Dec forced himself to relax and closed his eyes. "Hold a hot compress over that wound. As hot as it gets, you hear? I don't care if it scalds my skin." Livy nodded and dunked the cloth in the boiling water as Dec continued. "It sounds like a three-stage venom. There's the neurotoxin, which is what's making me too weak to move. Then there's the necrotoxin, which is slowly eating at me. My body's fighting it, but the third stage is making that tough. That's the hemotoxin. It's spreading through my blood, attackin' the red cells." Livy was forced to smile.

"When did you become an expert?" she asked, fishing the steaming cloth out of the water. Dec grinned weakly, his skin waxy in the firelight.

"Did some trainin' in the Mojave. The rattlers there inject a mixture of neuro and hemo into their prey. Necrotoxin's more of a spider thing: stays around the wound and liquifies the tissue. Brown Recluses use that." He nodded towards the cloth. "Go ahead and press that to my leg. Don't mind me if I holler, just keep it pressed down."

"Okay." Olivia replied, her lips firming into a tight line as she looked from her friend's face to his leg. Taking a deep breath and using two flat-tipped sticks that usually doubled as stirring spoons, she dropped the cloth over the bite and held it there.

Dec screamed in pain, his hands tightning into fists and ever muscle in his body cording, but he didn't thrash. Through some iron self-control or determination, he held still while Livy firmly pressed the compress down and tried not to think too hard about what sort of pain he was in. His scream died off into a groan as he took first one deep breath, then another.

"'kay." he gasped at length. "That... that oughta do it." Using the jolt of adrenaline that had galvanised his muscles, he sat bolt upright, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth against the urge to swoon. "Dunk that back in the hot water, and you might want to look away. Gonna squeeze whatever I can out of that puncture."

Livy nodded again, dropping the cloth into the pot and looking away, hearing Dec grunt softly with effort. A sickening, cloying smell made her wince and nearly gag, and she heard Declan swear sulfurously, pain and disgust mingling in his voice. "Okay, hand the cloth back here." Fishing it out once again, she passed it back to him, hearing him hiss as he took the boiling rag from her and used it to clean his leg.

"Goin' to need to keep this clean." There was obvious strain in Dec's voice despite his calm demeanour as he tossed the rag onto the fire. Livy caught a glimpse of a blackened cloth, as though it were covered in red-stained oil. "Reckon I got the worst out, though." Looking back around, Livy saw that the swelling had gone down a little around Dec's leg. His face looked haggard, however, silver eyes filled with tears of pain and fatigue. He tried to lay back gently, but was forced to slump gracelessly instead as the brief moment of strength deserted him. He gave her a wan smile, his eyes starting to flicker closed.

"Hopefully the shit that's in my bloodstream won't be so hard to fight now." he muttered. Livy watched him for a moment, worried both for him and for herself. If Dec died...

His hand lifted slightly, taking hers in a gentle grip. His skin felt too hot, and he looked like crap, but there was something comforting about that gesture. I'm not going anywhere easily, kiddo it seemed to say.

Olivia watched Declan sleep – or maybe he was just unconscious. Whatever was going on, there was literally nothing else she could do for him. She climbed back up to their tree house and pulled down her sleeping roll. After a moment, she pulled down the hammocks and tossed them down, too. Dragging her zat out of her backpack, she clutched it to her chest and lay down next to Declan. She put her hand on his arm, her small fingers curling around his wrist. She easily found his pulse, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t comforting enough.

Olivia scooted closer, until her breasts brushed his arm. She reached out and put her hand on his chest, her hand sliding over his bare flesh until she felt his hammering heart. Its steadiness, despite the pressures the poison were putting on it, did more to convince her that it was ok to rest. She kept her hand where it was, letting the steady thump count for her until she fell asleep.

She awoke sweating despite it being a cool night. The fire was mere coals, but that wasn’t the reason she was dripping wet. Declan was burning like a furnace; her skin was slick and sticky where it was connecting with his. “Dec?” she asked, gently shaking him. “Dec, how… what do I need to do?”

There was no answer from him other than a whispered groan. Olivia stopped shaking him, smoothing the hair back from his hot forehead. “Hang on, I’m going to… do something.” What was she supposed to do for fever? Olivia struggled to remember; this hadn’t been part of her training, really. However, with a fever, you tried to keep them cool. She grabbed her blood bucket and ran to the river, filling it. When she got back, she knelt next to Declan. Her hands shook as she wrung out a rag and began to try to cool his burning skin. She hoped that this could help him, because she wasn’t sure what else she could do for him.

Declan swam in a sea of agony.

The pain was incredible, as though every nerve in his body from the skin inwards was being pierced with white-hot needles. Some dimly working part of his brain knew, even in this delirium, that the pain was because his body was fighting back, his incredible vitality forcing back the tide of poison. But that knowledge was almost subconscious, as far below the madness of pain as it was. Every muscle was tensed rigid as he reflexively clenched against the hurt. It was unbearable. He wanted to just let go and stop figh-

*Don't you fuckin' dare, Dec. Don't you give up now. We ain't never given up in our fuckin' LIFE!*

*Hurts. Why don't you try dealin' with it, asshole?*

*You want me to take over and get pain-mad? I'd try to kill everything around us, Dec. Probably over-exert us and we'd die, but not before mindlessly killin' poor Livy. You're the best at enduring, buddy.*

*Livy.*

*Yeah, she's there. You can't feel it consciously through the pain, but she's talkin' to us and tryin' to get us cooled down with water. She sounds scared*

*Gotta wake up. Burning up here.*

"...urning up here..." Livy heard him mutter as his eyelids flickered spasmodically. She leaned closer, shaking him a little more.

"Dec. Please, talk to me." Under the concern, Livy knew she was afraid. Afraid for him, afraid for herself if he should die. She almost cried out from mixed relief and despair as his eyes opened, looking around blindly. There was a glazed, sightless expression in them.

"Livy?" He asked, his voice a croak, as though his throat was petrified. "Can' see ya..."

"Dec, I'm here." She laid a hand on his brow and winced. It was terrifyingly hot. "What do I do?"

"Cold water. Lots 'f it." he muttered hoarsely. "Inside 'n' out. Cool me down, keep me hy-" he struggled to speak as though his air supply was short. "-Hydrated." he gasped. "Clean the shit... off that I'm sweatin' out. Heart's... strong. Can... take the shock. Body'll do the rest." His face contorted, teeth clenched and the tendons in his neck standing out as he tensed again, his breathing coming in short, shallow gasps for a long moment before he consciously relaxed again. "Sorry, hurts like... a motherfucker, Liv."

“Ok,” she whispered, not sure how to do that. “Keep you cool, you can take the shock… got it.” Olivia sat back for a moment trying to think about how to do that. A thought came to her, and it was either the best thing she could do, or it was the worst. She jumped into action, grabbing rope and running to the river. She snagged the rope around a tree and tied it tight, then ran back to Declan. Grabbing him under his armpits, she dragged him toward the water.

At the edge, she tied the rope around his chest, securing him to shore. Then she dragged him into the water. Declan screamed as the chilled water surrounded his overheated body, and Olivia found herself tearing up in sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him in place. The cold water soaked into her scant clothing quickly, leaving her with chattering teeth. “Just hold onto me,” she told him, able to support his weight in the water.

Declan put his arms around her, pressing to her body. Where he touched her, she felt warm; the rest of her was frozen. Olivia focused on keeping their heads above water, finding it harder than she assumed. For a while they remained in semi-frozen suspension, Olivia speaking softly to Declan, hoping that her words would be comforting.

When she felt herself tiring, she pulled them both closer to the edge of the stream. She sat down, sinking into the mud, feeling the grit working its way into her pants. She pulled Declan down with her, gently steering him to sit between her legs. “C’mon,” she whispered, tugging him back to lean against her as she found a comfortable rock to recline against. Her arms circled his shoulders, cradling him to her body as she assured him, “I’ve got you.”

The pain was intense, but worse than that for both aspects of Declan's fractured psyche was the feeling of helplessness. Red paced back and forth in his corner of their mindscape, a caged tiger who knew, in this case, that to break free meant his death. Dec felt weak, barely aware of his limbs or his ragged breathing. He had difficulty even telling when his eyes were open: the difference was mainly one of shades of darkness. But one thing he was aware of was Olivia. Her arms around his shoulders, her breath in his ear as she spoke to him as all the while the poison waged a deadly war with his body.

"I've got you." The phrase touched something deep inside him, a chord that had seldom resounded in his stark existence. Ever since his uncle, himself not the most tender man, had died and a young Declan had passed into the foster care system, he had quickly come to learn that he could rely only on himself. Oh sure, squadmates were one thing, but Declan had not looked to anyone for nurture since he was very young indeed. Someone to just be there, someone who would not let him go, would not let him suffer if they could help him...

For Livy hours had past with her shivering and warmed only by the burly hot water-bottle in her arms when suddenly her patient shuddered slightly and went still for a moment. Before she could start to worry, though, she felt Dec's ribs expand as he took a deep, even breath, and one hand came up to cover hers on his chest. He murmured, the words scarcely formed as he lapsed into healing sleep.

"..th'nks, Livy... fo' ev'rthng..."

Olivia hated to disturb him, but getting him out of the water woke him up anyway. He limped back to camp with the help of a convenient branch and Olivia tucked under his arm, but she had to set up the hammock alone. Declan leaned against a tree, his head hanging and face set in a rictus of pain.

“There,” she said softly – wearily – when she checked to be sure the knots would hold. “Your bed, monsieur.” That got a ghost of a smile from him; she knew he’d smiled only because he thought it would make her feel better. “Just a bit longer, and you’ll be able to rest.”

He grunted in reply and shoved off the tree. Olivia hurried to support him, wrapping her arms around his middle and letting him lean on her when the branch and his good leg wasn’t enough. There were tears of pain in his eyes again as she grabbed the hammock and helped him lie back on the Air Force sleeping bag. “There,” she groaned as she lifted his legs, surprised at how heavy they were.

“Than’… ya…” he rasped again, going limp in his bag. Olivia did what little she could to make him comfortable; then she went to stir up the fire again. She was still cold, chilled to the bone, but she knew it was only partially from being in the water. Part of it was shock – Declan had been hurt, but the whole night had been stressful for both of them.

Olivia spent the morning doing idle tasks around the camp, watching Declan and waiting for her hands to stop shaking. When that was done, she felt a wash of exhaustion so strong she was dizzy. She hadn’t thought ahead; the young specialist hadn’t put up her hammock while she was coming down from her adrenaline high. Three attempts to put up the hammock came to nothing and Olivia collapsed on the ground, fighting her own tears. Declan had been the backbone of this tiny group of stragglers – how could she do it alone?

“Livy…” His hoarse voice pulled her to her feet, and she went to his side, wiping tears from her eyes. “Ya need to sleep,” he rasped, catching her by the hand. “Come here.”

Any protests that it was inappropriate died quickly. They’d just spent most of the night plastered against each other in the water; nothing was going to happen other than sleep. She was too tired and he in too much pain. She nodded and carefully climbed in next to him. She was asleep before she’d finished settling into place.



Things still weren’t awkward when she woke up later. She was still tired, and for a moment in her drowsy slumber, she forgot where she was. She knew it was Declan that she was curled against, and she made a soft sound of satisfaction, as she was both safe and warm. She’d been so cold last night that this heat felt heavenly. But her brain had to ask questions, like why was she pressed against Declan? Then it had to answer, and Olivia flushed as she became fully aware of her situation. With that blush still darkening her face, she climbed out of the big sling, asking, “How do you feel?”

“Still tired. Better.” He managed a wan smile. “Kinda hungry.”

“I can manage some food,” she told him with her own tired smile. “Just relax, okay?”

“Ya know, I coul’ get used to ya waitin’ on me hand and foot,” Declan told her.

Relief filled her. If he could joke, he was better. “Well, then, I guess I get poisoned next,” she replied with faux-somberness. “Then you can wait on me.”

“There are easier ways of gettin’ that,” he replied with a teasing spark in his eyes.

“Oh?” Olivia asked, pulling out some of the tubers she’d collected yesterday.

“Ya could ask,” he murmured softly, loud enough that she might not have heard had she not been a specialist.

Olivia blushed at the comment, too tired to come up with something in reply. Instead, she focused on dinner, scraping some hot coals out of the fire and burying the tubers in them. They didn’t taste great roasted, but it was better than raw and she didn’t have anything else. This planet was short on sustenance plants and long on deadly toxins. “These will take a bit. I’m going to check our traps, see if we can have some protein with our starches.”

“I’ll come wit’ ya,” Dec said, but only managed to do a half-sit-up before his strength left him.

“No, you rest,” Olivia insisted, putting her zat holster around her waist. “I’ve got this. I’ve got it.” She put a hand on his chest for emphasis. “I’ll be back before the ‘taters are done.” Declan nodded, but his silver eyes were worried as she turned and headed into the jungle.

Telling him she was worried too seemed to be a little counterproductive to her assurances that she would be fine. She tried for a casual wave at the edge of their camp but wasn’t sure if she’d pulled it off.

All of the traps lay outside the perimeter. Olivia went to the closest, a small spring trap set on a trail path to the water. There was a small six-legged lizard in it; a baby catmeleon, if she wasn’t missing her guess. She took it down and gutted it, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She used the guts to rebait the trap and reset it, then went to the next. Unfortunately, her luck ended there. The rest of the traps – of the ones she was brave enough to check – were empty. One foot-long lizard wasn’t enough, but it was all that they had. Olivia felt her stomach growl, but she resolved that Declan would get most of the meat. He had more mass and he was hurt. The sooner he healed, the sooner he could be back to hunting.

As she tried to estimate how far she could stretch her trap-kills out with the bland tubers, she prayed that he got better fast.