When Cowboy had finished wrangling the young punk, Totem walked over and tossed him a bandana to wipe the blood from his face. "Nice fight. Glad I got the easy one. I think we should...." His words trailed off when Flaming Angel, relayed a call that she got from Seizure, letting them know that Morgan was at the base and in stable condition thanks to Doctor Wraith. Even before she had mentioned the girl, Totem had received a vision carried on the wings of a hawk telling him that she was being carried through the sewer tunnels. Morgan would be pleased to know anyway that her Aunt Jackie Running Wolf was keeping an eye on her, Totem figured.

"So how do you think we should get to the base?" Totem asked Cowboy since the entire area was still blocked off to all but essential traffic.



Scavenger was surrounded by coloured lights and screaming girls. His fingers glided along his keyboard performing a trance piece that he could play in his sleep. It was nice to be back up on stage, he hadn't realized how much he missed playing in a band and simply relished the ambience of the dark club. The roar of the crowd vibrated through his body, pulsating rhythmically along his ribs. The club began to wash away before his eyes and Stefan was suddenly aware that he was lying on his back. The warm, vibrating sensation along his ribs was his Blackberry going off and as reality set in, Scavenger remembered fighting Totem and obviously losing. He could feel the sunlight on his face and kept his eyes closed until his sweeping hand located his dark sunglasses and slipped them on his face.

Remaining on his back, Scavenger held his Blackberry over his eyes and checked the text message, 'scav meet u 2 nite', it read. It was the message he had been waiting for, but wished it had come a little sooner, then maybe he could have avoided getting his face kicked in, literally.

Stefan slowly sat up into a sitting position and rubbed the back of his neck where Totem had struck him. His neck was stiff and he had a slight head ache but really didn't have any other injuries to complain about. As he stood up and made his way to the edge of the building he could hear Grey calling his name.

Grey's eyelids were heavy and after a long blink, Scavenger seemed to magically materialize before him. "Holy shit, man! You look like road kill!" Whined Scav, "&%$#! We totally got our asses kicked! Guess I got off lucky. The guy &%$#ing kicked me in the back, man, and everything went black, and then I was, like on stage...."

Scavenger shut up when Grey forcefully grabbed his collar and began pulling himself to an upright position, gritting his teeth against the pain. Stefan offered support and together they made their way to their stolen car. After settling Grey into the passenger seat, Stefan put a couple of cig's in his mouth, lit them and placed one in Grey's mouth.

"We're gonna &%$#ing kill those &%$#ing bastards!" Swore Scavenger as he started up the car, pulled out and drove down a vacant street. "First though, I'm gonna get you some help. I know a guy, he'll fix you up, but it'll cost. You got any money?"




Wraith was pleased to hear that Totem and Tim were okay, after all they had waded into RAID infested waters to find him, for which he was very grateful. As soon as they arrived he'd make sure that he took care of their wounds and figured that Tim would be headed to the medical lab to see Morgan anyway.

"No worries." Wraith said to Seizure as he moved over alongside Kekoa and checked on his injury. "He's going to be just fine." he reassured her and walked back over to Ayana. He leaned against the couch, lowering his eye level to hers and decided to fill her in on what the masked investigator had discovered. "Sigma thinks that he might know who killed your friend, Silicone Surfer and I just wanted you to know that he asked me to help out and I'm going to."

Wraith seemed to have a little more to say, but decided to hold back his words. He rose and started walking to the east side of the base to find out what Sigma wanted him to do.

Tim took the bandanna from Totem and wiped his mooth, spit somed more blood out, then wiped his mouth again. "Ya reckon' we kin trust this har Angel, ta get us back ta the base? I'm plum outa ammo ceptin fur four rounds in my revolver. An I ain't too sur 'bout them, the damed thang don't feel right. Ta be honest with ya I ain't real sur whar we at, I ain't quiet figgered out this har city yet. My Grandpappy an I were har once when I was only knee high ta a armadilla. So I ain't got much of a recalection of it. So I reckon it's yur call ythat pardnar." Tim said to Totem quietly.

Totem had to admit he was in the same boat. While he knew which way the base was he had no idea what the best way was to get there. He did know, however, from his fly by that there were road blocks everywhere and no one unless they worked or maybe lived in the area were getting through.

"You and I are bloody messes and I don't think the police are going to just let us pass looking like we do." Commented Totem, "We have to find another way in. Maybe underground if we can."

Tim thought for a moment, glanced at Fallen Angel sitting in her truck and came to a conclusion. "I recon we cud send this har Angel on ta act as a decoy fur us. Then we cud make ar way back ta the Greenstreet base thru tha sewers. Ifin' ya think ya kin find tha way. "Course ifin' we run inta any of them thar R.A.I.D basturds it could git right sticky. But I say what tha hell ya only live once. What ya say thar pardner? It's yur as too ya know." Tim said quietly to Totem, the more time Tim spent with the Hiada the more he liked him. "I figur that we'd draw to much attention ta arselves anyother way, an yur right them thar city cops ain't gonna let us just go sashaying by, even ifin' we're in a truck with a right purdy woman."

Allie had her window cracked and had heard most of the conversation. If she didn't know better, Cowboy wasn't real keen on going back to base. At least, that was the way it sounded to her. She didn't blame them for not trusting her, but she was tired and edgy and as she stepped out of the truck, it showed on her face. She didn't even glance at Totem, knowing that whatever she said wouldn't matter to him one way or the other, so she put her attention onto Cowboy.

"Look, maybe I've been pushing too hard for you to get to Morgan. I've got a few weapons back at my place and you're welcome to them if you want them. Mikala's offer still stands about her ranch if you're interested, but if you don't want to go to base, if you have other things you want to do, then do them. I would assume that Morgan is going to be okay with or without you."

Allie only hoped she was right on that one, for what Mikala had said to Wraith back at her place before they'd left for base, worried her. She too had seen it happen when a young meta had been through everything she'd been through already. She didn't know about her past, only that it wasn't good, but she could very well turn rogue. She gave herself a mental shrug, deciding that this was Cowboy's call, not hers. If Morgan turned rogue, then she would become involved and hunt her down herself.

"So, what do you want to do, Cowboy?"

Tim looked at Angel and said "You want me ta tell ya what ta do? Alright, we need ya ta cover fur us. Ya take that thar truck and draw them cops and feds off ar tail. Me an Totem ar gonna take ta the sewers, we'll meet up with ya at the Green Street base. Now git in yur truck an' git ta drawon' them bastards off us . Me and Totem har'll meet up with ya at the base." Tim noded to Totem and headed back down the alley to the man hole they had climbed out of earlier. Finding the manhole, Tim pryed the lid up and motioned for Totem to climb down, Tim then followed him, closing the manhole after them.

Allie nodded to Tim, climbing into her truck. She didn't know how in the hell she was going to make it to base with all of the road blocks, but at least they would make there via the sewer tunnels. She started the big Dodge and eased her way towards the opening of the alley, waiting as she listened to the sirens getting closer. Just when they rounded the corner, she gunned the truck, spinning her tires, barely missing one of the police cars. They instantly gave chase as she maneuvered in and out of traffic, keeping an eye out for pedestrians.

She smiled at herself as she watched the police cars behind her try to keep up. She'd paid good money to have the Dodge customized to withstand the speeds without losing control of the bed and now she would get her chance to see if the hefty price she'd paid would be worth it. So far, so good.

She was headed north east, towards the lake, making her way through the city streets. She almost lost control a couple of times when she swerved to miss someone crossing the street, having to jump to the sidewalk and back onto the street.

Once she reached the warehouse district on the docks an hour later, she pushed a button when she hit open road around the lake and the truck jumped ahead of the police cars. She was having a blast and her laughter said it all. Making a sharp turn, she began to head back west, now north of her home and Green Street Base, leading the police on a merry little chase when she saw the road block. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she saw that she only had seconds to make a decision on what to do. Blowing through the block wasn't an option. She wouldn't hurt policemen who were simply doing their jobs. Taking in her surroundings, she spotted a side street leading north and took it. It led to the outskirts of the city where she flipped the truck into four wheel drive and headed off the road into the surrounding fields. Seeing a thick grove of trees, she headed for them, her truck disappearing once inside the trees. Looking for a place to leave the truck now that she couldn't drive it back to the city, she found an abandoned barn and pulled it inside.

Climbing out of the truck, she got into the large tool box anchored in the bed and took out some heavy duty cleaning supplies and got to work cleaning the whole inside of the truck so that there wouldn't be anything for the police or RAID to find to get DNA from. Another hour later, she was done having changed her clothes to regular clothes, stuffing her costume into her large purse and called her father. Telling him where she was, he told her to sit tight and he would be out to pick her up with a new vehicle.

Allie stayed inside the barn, but she sat down on a old bench and waited for her father to arrive, wondering if Cowboy and Totem had made it to base okay. It had been almost two and a half hours since she'd seen them last.

Totem would not openly admit it, but he was relieved to get away from Flaming Angel. Together they were literally fire and gasoline and it was better that they kept their distance.

Traveling through the subterranean network of sewer tunnels, Totem lead the way. He had always possessed a good sense of direction and no matter where he was always knew which way north was. Perhaps it had something to do with his, totems, he wasn't sure. No doubt if he presented the question to Doctor Wraith, he'd concoct some sort of scientific explanation, but he could truly care less to know the 'why's' most of the time. Totem felt that Cowboy probably saw things a lot like he did, and it made him feel at ease to know that he had a straight-shooter at his back. A no non-sense partner that kept his shit wired tight at all times.

Totem stopped, placed his hands on hips and exasperatedly hung his head. Behind him he could hear Cowboy sigh as for the third time the sewer line they were following had reduced to the size of a one foot diameter pipe, forcing them to double back and take an alternate route. The Haida internalized his frustration, but if Cowboy could read minds he would have heard, "Shit! Sorry man.", but Totem didn't believe in bitching, especially when there might be RAID enforcers about.

They hastened back to the last junction and as they entered the cross road the sounds of footsteps echoed through the the tunnel that they had previously come by. Fortunately they had their alternate route to take and deftly evaded what could have only been enforcers on the prowl. Moving as quickly as they could without making too much noise, the two men tried to put some distance between them and RAID. They couldn't tell how many there were, and all it would take was a single plasma burst set for a wide disperse to fill the tunnel with paralyzing energy and they'd be waking up in a cell.

The sound of running water was getting louder. "Sounds like a waterfall." Totem curiously commented and when they reached the end of the tunnel discovered the source of the noise. They were standing at the precipice of large well into which several other sewage pipes connected and drained. Water cascaded into a pool, the surface of which was at least six meters below them, a death trap if there would not have been a metal ladder bolted to the smooth, cylindrical concrete wall. Across from them was another tunnel, too far for a man to make a standing leap to, but the leap could be made with a good run. The second option seemed more promising, however, which was leaping to the ladder which was mid-way, then jumping over and grasping the edge of the other tunnel. Totem decided to take a third option and began chanting lowly to himself, summoning once more the spirit of favorite totem and when he opened his eyes they appeared as those of a cougar.

No other great cat could leap like a cougar and the Haida man easily cleared the well. As he rolled and rose smoothly into a crouching position, Totem was alerted to the sound of fast approaching foot steps from Cowboy's tunnel. "Christ! Com'on Cowboy!" he called, crouching in the opening. The RAID enforcers had somehow gotten wind of them and were closing in fast. As Tim stood at the edge of the well he could hear the enforcers stop followed by the eerie sound of what could only be some sort of stunning grenade (because they wouldn't risk blowing up the tunnel) tumbling along the ground toward him. Tim knew that the RAID enforcers were well trained, and timed their grenades perfectly so he only had seconds to react before the device went off.

The morning had worn on and Shawn, now several blocks away but on an easily memorized path, decided it might be time to return to base. In his fuming and mulling and thinking and mind-wandering, it had failed to occur to him that he was a registered meta now and he was walking dangerously close to pretty much every RAID enforcer in Chicago. Turning, the you deaf-blind man navigated through street vendors and tourists along the overwhelming smells of exhaust, hot dogs, pizza, and the distant bay. Now that the crowds had cleared of business people, those who remained were alert enough to tell he was blind and moved out of his way, pointing and whispering things he couldn't hear but knew were occurring.

Moving along the rough, brick walls, Shawn's head swayed just slightly, raised now rather than dropped so that he could fully take in the new smells and help himself navigate. Easily, he made his way back to Flaming Angel's secret hideout and took the elevator back up. He couldn't be entirely sure if anyone would welcome him back, but that didn't concern him much. If they were that offended by his not wanting to be babied, he had no problem striking out on his own. Reaching the door, Shawn reached for the general area doorknobs were, missing slightly but quickly sliding his hand over to it and slowly pushed it open. He was mildly surprised when it wasn't locked and dead-bolted-- but at least it was convenient for him. Slipping quietly inside, Shawn shut the door which much less noise than before and paused, waiting to see who was there. The only scent he caught faintly was that of the new one whose name had already escaped him but whom he remembered had been tasked with babysitting him.

Even blind people know how to scowl and Shawn would greet Mikala with one of the carved perfection only an 18 year-old could create. He had no interest in another pity party. Still, he now sorely wished he had his books with him as he was now stuck alone in an empty . . . whatever this was . . . with a stranger who felt sorry for him. Great Shawn thought silently as he moved along the perimeter of the room.
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Grey's head lulled in the front seat beside Scavenger, trying desperately to work through endless waves of the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life. It didn't help that his tourettes, when un-medicated was nearly uncontrollable and his current state did little to help things. Every tic felt like his ribs had shattered and were stabbing at his organs, and yet every stab of pain seemed to bring on more tics. While in his mind, he wanted to tell Scavenger to keep him away from his sketchy doctors, that he didn't want to owe anyone anything else, that he was out on his own, his mind was unfortunately silent. What came out of his mouth was quite the opposite.

"I think my ribs are broken . . . " his voice was choked and rasped with pain, his breathing shallow and rough, an awful balance between trying to get air and trying to avoid breathing because it seemed to hurt more than it helped. "FAGGOT!" he shouted for the hundredth time, his body jerking making him actually cried out, crossing his arms over his chest. "Faggot! Shit!" preceded a pained groan before he reached into his pocket and tossed another Vicodin back. The pain itself seemed to be blocking the high, however, and all Grey could do was grit his teeth against the unending throbbing and pangs. "I need my f%#$in' clonidine too," he added, referring for one extremely rare moment to his disorder. After another another moment in which the only sound was Grey's wet, shallow breathing, he seemed to fall quieter, the near overdose of vicodin finally kicking in. As his body began to settle, save for the occasional twitch, his gray eyes fluttered and he mumbled just before he drifted into that beautiful place between sleep and consciousness that only narcotics could bring.

"I'm ... gonna ... kill that . . . redneck . . . bastard . . . "

Tim watched as Totem leaped across the chasm of the well. Tim took a few strides backwards and was about to launch himself into a running leap across the well, when the flash grenade rolled across the floor of the drainage tunnel. "Shit!" Tim said, and launched himself into a running leap towards the ladder. Reaching out with his arms, his right hand grasped one of the rungs as the greande exploded, sending a blinding white light and head rattling sound to fil the confined space of the drainage tunnel.

Tim groaned with pain as his body weight hung on his extaended arm, his feet desperatly seeking purchase of a lower rung. Tim's head felt like it was inside the bell of a cathedral bell ringing the faithful to mass, his eyes shut tight and still feeling as if he had starred into a flash strobe as it went off. Once his foot found the lower rung, Tim brought his other arm up and grasped a ladder rung, slowly the world seemed to return to semi-normal and Tim looked over at Totem. Little white dots surrounded the Hiada's face and Tim said "Get the hell otta har. I'll meet up with ya latter pardner. Now go on an' git." Tim began to climb down the ladder. After about forty feet Tim reach the bottom of the well and his feet rested on a brick floor. The walls were also made of brick, unlike the concrete walls of the tunnels above, this tunnel was cylindrical in shape, with a flat floor. "This must be the old drainage system." Tim thought to himself. Looking ahead Tim could see only darkness. "Well Tim ole buddy this is what ya git fur not payin 'tention ta the boyscout rule of 'Always be prepared." He muttered to himself as he looked around. "This ain't gittin' us anywars." he muttered and walked off into the darkness running his hand along the damp wall. ........

Mean while above in the tunnel Totem and Tim had been tranversing, two R.A.I.D. opperatives advanced on the position where the flash bang had expolded. Standing on the edge of the well, the comander of the team said "Well scratch two Meta's Charlie, they must of fell down the well, and God only knows how deep that pit is." ..... Charlie said "Ya Max unless they can fly." They both looked at each other as two more team members joined them. Max brought up a map of the drainage system on the screen of his mini computer on his arm. "You two double back and take tunnel 37-867 it circles around and connects to tunnel 57-942 that connects to this one on the otherside of this well. Make a sweep back to this spot. Me an Charlie will check out the well." The other two operatives nodded and started back they way they had come. Max fitted a small grapling hook device attached to spool of high strength eighth inch titanium cable, to the end of a Co2 pistol, aimed it at a higher rung on the ladder and fired. The grappling hook caught on the rung and the spring loaded hooks closed around the rung. Charlie did the same at a rung a few feet above Max's. Max swung over the the ladder first and began to climb down. A few seconds latter Charlie did the same.

Scavenger's head was beginning bob and it was getting difficult to concentrate on the road. He wasn't used to being active in the day and it was starting to catch up with him so he reached into his coat pocket, took out a small jar of pills, popped the lid and downed some of the contents like they were tic-tacs. They even looked like them, but these minty little devils were one of his own special concoctions and they were designed to do a whole lot more than freshen your breath. He then gripped the steering wheel tighter and straightened up to keep himself awake until the amphetamines kicked in. Scav quickly tucked the jar back in his pocket when Grey groaned, but not because he didn't feel like sharing but because in his state the drugs would probably kill him.

"Don't worry man." Scavenger told him, "This guy's gonna fix you up, and don't worry about the money, I called my brother when you were out and he said he'd take care of everything."

Grey wasn't sure how long he'd been out for, but he took note of a road sign and looked to Scavenger, "Milwaukee? Are we in &%$#ing, Milwaukee?"

"Relax, man. Just &%$#ing, chill out." Scavenger told him, "We're in North Chicago. Just one of the haunts of my old gang." he explained, then lit another smoke and handed it to Grey as he puffed out, "Trust me, man."

Anyone who knew anything about North Chicago was aware that it was definitely not a relaxing place. The gang activity was brutal and Grey could have thought of at least a hundred better places they could have gone instead. Places where he didn't have to keep his guard up, but maybe that was just asking too much. Anyone who would for the right price fix up a wanted man probably wouldn't be found in a quiet neighborhood with white picket fences, not that he would care to spend anytime in suburbia either.

Scavenger drove into a desolate neighborhood where the streets were lined with vacant lots and boarded up houses, tagged with gang signs and parked in front what Grey first thought was a condemned building. "This is it." Said Scav, and it became apparent to Grey that not only did someone live in the rat trap, but also performed sterile operations in what had to be the most unsanitary environment around.

Scav lead the way and directed Grey to a set of stairs that lead down to a side entrance of the old brick building. He knocked three times on the iron door at the bottom and a few minutes later a heavy plate slid open revealing a narrow opening just large enough for someone to look through. "What the &%$* do you want!" Growled the door man as he pointed a gun through the opening.

Raising his hands, Scav quickly told the man who they were affiliated with. "We're with the Highwayman." he blurted out, "The name's Scavenger and this is..." he paused, not wanting to use his friends actual name but all he could think up on the spot was, "Glitch."

"Yeah. Your brother said you'd be stoppin' by." Said the man behind the door. The gun was withdrawn and the shutter slid closed. They could then hear, the sound of several locks being opened. Before the heavy door creaked open Scav apologized for the name, but thought that 'malfunction' might have been a little long and explained that these weren't the sort of people you gave a name.

The door opened and a man in his thirties stood in the hallway holding a half eaten banana. He was wearing an old Metallica T-shirt, sweat pants and sandals and looked like he just woke up. His dark hair was messy but seemed to suit him and appeared that he hadn't shaved in a few days. Taking a bite of his banana he stared apathetically at the two men for while, then waved his gun at them at told them to follow him. "Close the door behind ya." he mentioned as he walked down the long corridor and hung a right.

Scavenger closed the door and helped Grey along to where the man had disappeared. The hallway of the basement was damp and poorly maintained, paint was peeling off the walls and the incandescent lights were dim. The place looked like a crack house, but they were surprised to find that once they rounded the corner they were standing in a clean and rather pleasant room. The floor was a polished marble and there were no other pieces of furniture except for a an operating table under a single light. The man was in the corner of the room washing his hands in the sink.

"Help him onto the table then you can wait outside." he told Scavenger. He then turned around and put on a sterile gown and approached grey with his hands held out before him. He could tell that the injured man was wondering what the hell was going on, since there wasn't any medical equipment, then as the answer dawned on Grey, the man nodded.

"That's right." He said, "I don't need but these hands to heal you up. Now remove your shirt and lie down."

The healer then approached Grey, closed his eyes and ran his hand a few inches over his skin, moving it across body as if searching for injuries. When he was done, he opened his eyes, smiled and rubbed his hands together vigorously. "Okay", he said, "Let's begin. I'll warn you advance, though. This is going to hurt like a bitch and it's best you don't have any pain-killers in you, but I guarantee after I'm done you'll be up and ready to do whatever you do in a day."

He then laid his hands on Grey's ribs and he could feel a warm surge rush into his body.

"By the way", the meta human witch doctor mentioned as Grey's ribs began to burn, "You can call me, Stitch, Mr. Glitch." and he chuckled.

Mikala didn't so much hear Shawn return as she felt him...his emotions anyway. She walked into the living room, standing in the bedroom doorway, watching as he maneuvered his way around, highly impressed. She couldn't stop a chuckle when she saw the scowl on his face. She could feel the frustration, among other emotions, coming from him and had idea of how he felt. Once he was situated, she approached him, laying a gently hand on his shoulder to let him know that she was there. Typing into his communication device, she spoke to him.

"Shawn, this is Mikala. I am glad to see you're back. You are amazing and I am impressed by you. You seem to know where everything is, so make yourself at home. Flaming Angel will return soon, hopefully."

She didn't bother to say anymore, feeling that he didn't want to be watched or pitied, so she didn't do either one. He knew she was there and she knew that most blind people had a very acute sense of smell and with his hearing gone as well, it would be even stronger. So, if he needed her, he would find her. Mikala want over to the couch and made herself comfortable, dozing off.

Allie breathed a sigh of relief when her father showed up in his vintage Jaguar. Climbing in, she kissed him on the cheek before buckling in.

"So, what have you gotten yourself into this time, Allie? Or should I even ask?"

Her father knew her too well and Allie knew better than to lie to him for she couldn't lie to him anyway. He always knew when she was.

"New metas came into town and one of them had a psycho father that she had to deal with. The rescue didn't go as planned and we almost lost her as well as Kekoa was injured. The girl is okay physically, father is dead, but her mental state is iffy. And, two of the others are down below in the sewer system trying to make it back to base. I was the diversion."

Anthony Jameson chuckled, knowing that only his daughter would get involved with somthing like this, but she was always one to help others and he loved that about her. Because she was a meta herself, it was why he was always there to help her and the Resistance.

"Is Kekoa okay? Does he need one of our doctors to look at him? What can I do to help the two in the sewer tunnels?"

Shaking her head, Allie let her father know that there was nothing he could do at this time and they had a meta doctor with them who was caring for Kekoa and Morgan back at base. Nodding his head, her father was glad to hear that. Pulling into her underground garage, he kissed his daughter on the cheek, told her he loved her and to call if they needed anything. He would also send his men to collect her truck and redo it, new license plates, paint job, different decals, the works. It would be delivered in a couple of days.

Thanking her father and telling him she loved him as well, Allie headed upstairs to her apartment, announcing to Mikey that it was her and smiling when she saw that Shawn had made it back okay. She did the same as Mikala, touching him gently on the shoulder before typing into his device.

"Flaming Angel here, Shawn. Nice to see you back. Make yourself at home."

Short, sweet, and simple. Something told her that that was all he would want anyway and for him to have found his way back on his own meant that he didn't need a babysitter, just a friend.

Morgan was disoriented, not knowing where she was. She looked around groggily, seeing the medical equipment and the things stuck to her chest, monitoring her heartbeat as well as the i.v. in her arm. Her mind felt as if there were cobwebs inside of it, her mouth like it was filled with cotton. Where was she?

After about ten minutes or so, she tried to sit up, finally able to after a few tries. Her side ached, but the pain seemed to be muted. Her legs didn't feel as bad either. She sat there on the edge of the bed, wishing the room would stop spinning as she looked around. Reaching up under her gown, she began to peel off the tags stuck to her chest, causing the monitor to go flat line. She then struggled with the tape on the i.v. Once it was off, which had taken her longer than she would have liked, she found a tissue on the bedside table and covered the small hole after she pulled out the i.v. Sitting there, she concentrated on the room, knowing that she couldn't move very fast or she'd wind up on her face. She wasn't even sure she should try standing, but she was going to. She had to find out what was going on and where she was. Where was Tim and if he wasn't here, then where was he. She tried to focus on all animals, but she was too groggy. She would have to wait.

She was still sitting there, wondering if her legs would hold her when she heard the door open to the room she was in.

Shawn shook Mikala's and Flaming Angel's hands irritably off of his shoulder, giving them each the same response.

"I know who you are," he said, speaking as he signed, "I can smell you and feel you." There was plenty more he felt like saying, but even he knew it would be his own irritation speaking and there was nothing constructive in any of it. Still, he was growing bored and almost wished he'd gone back with the others to be by himself at the base where his books were. After a few moments, Mikala's words drifting through his mind, he decided to let just a little of his frustration vent in the most productive way he could think. Moving over to where Mikala was, he tapped her and said "hey." He gave a pause to let her acknowledge him before he continued, his hands moving quickly to help clarify what came out of his mouth. "I always hear that same shit. 'Courage,' 'admire,' 'impressive.' Why? What's impressive? I've always been like this. I'm just living my life. I'm not impressed you can see. I don't get it. I don't get how someone living a different life is anything special. Explain it." Even having never heard anyone speak, his tone was clearly irritated, demanding even, clear that he had every intention of putting her on the spot with little room for a view anything less than well thought-out. As far as Mikala was concerned, Shawn had no concept of sugar-coating or in any way trying to preserve anyone's feelings. His question was a challenge-- whether it was simply a young man misdirecting his rage to a stranger or whether he really wanted to know HER view, it wasn't clear.