(...errrr...)

(Hm? I'm gonna have her wake up eventually but right now she's unable to wake up because she's having brain problems, just have Arnold and Martin communicate please.)

(Okay. Lol, I was worried she was dead.)

"Hey." Arland said as he propped himself on his shoulder and looked at Martin, sighing reluctantly. "How's Alana?"

Martin shrugged, looking down at her body, "She's fine, still sleeping." He looked back at Arland as he moved in the bed, taking a more comfortable position.

Alana remained unconscious.

Arland peered over the bed at her small, sleeping body and smiled, "At least we're all alive." He said, giving a slight nod as he moved back into the comfort of the bed. "Where are we?" He said, closing his eyes.

Martin shrugged, "I dunno. Looks like we're in one of the poverty stricken cities." He said, looking back at the window in the corner of the small room, "I think we're in an abandoned house."

Alana's breathing became rougher.

Martin looked down at Alana and moved off the bed, kneeling over her. He placed a hand on her hand and retracted it, the immense temperature making him silently shriek. "She's got a high temperature." He said as he ripped off some of his shirt and moved over to a rusted over tap, dampening the rag. Martin then turned back to Alana and placed the rag on her forehead, dabbing away the perspiration.

Alana was breathing heavier and more ragged.

Arland leant over on the bed and peered at her before retracting as Martin rushed over to the sink once again to get it more damp, softly slapping it against Alana's head - making the water splash all over her.

Alana whimpered softly in her sleep, it felt like her head was being split in two.

Martin then folded the rag up and left it on her hand as he crossed his legs and sat by her. "There's not much else I can do." He muttered as he moved back, laying on the cold ground as he closed his eyes.

Alana wasn't looking too good.

Arland moved the blanket from his leg and examined his wound, wincing with pain when he moved the bandage down his leg. At least the blood had ceased, but there was a large, gaping wound where the bullet had plunged through his flesh. He moved the blanket back over the wound and sighed.

Alana groaned in pain and stayed unconscious for the rest of the day.

Martin woke up startled, not meaning to fall asleep. He propped his skinny body on his elbow and looked over at Alana who had calmed down and Arland who was sleeping once again.

A few ours later Alana groaned in pain and she opened her eyes, her fever hadn't gone down and she was breathing raggedly.

"Alana!" Martin said as he scrambled over to her, his exclamation awaking Arland. He moved himself from the bed and sat on the edge of it, looking at the two with bloodshot eyes.

Alana looked over at him weakly, her eyes in pain. "Mar...tin..."

"Hey, how are you feeling? You've been out for ages." He said as he removed the cloth from her forehead and dabbed it against her cheeks, collecting perspiration which had been trickling down her face.

Alana groaned and closed her eyes tightly in pain. "My head... hurts..."

"Hey, it's going to be fine." He said as he rushed over to the basin and poured some more water on the cloth, wringing it out afterwards. Martin moved back to Alana and placed the cloth back on her head, replacing the perspiration with cold water.

Alana groaned but let out a sigh and looked up at him. "I'm... sorry..."

"What's there to be sorry about?" He said soothingly, leaning his back against the mouldy wall.

Alana's breath got rougher and she scrunched her face in pain. "Didn't... mean to... take you... there..." She said between gasps.

"Alana, it's fine." He said, "I promise you - it's fine." Martin said as he looked at her and squeezed her hand, smiling slightly.