Amp rolled over and gagged. There was nothing left in her stomach, yet it felt compelled to throw up something. She couldn't figure out why a simple hit to her stomach.... okay, several hits to her stomach.... would make her so sick. She didn't realize that, before the confrontation, her blood sugar level was already lower than it should have been. She was one of those rare diabetics in which stress dropped the level, rather than raised it. And now she was falling rapidly.

Totally spent, she collapsed back onto her side, curling slightly into a ball, her head pounding. She didn't realize that only part of the throb came from within her skull. Someone laughed above her, as things began to darken again.

“After you maLady.” She couldn't hear him, but several moments later something cold touched her face. Fire consumed her shoulder as it was popped back in. The Stalker his left her throat once more, which sent electricity right behind the fire, and brought her consciousness back to the fore in painful agony. “Cant have you messing up my bed.”

She felt herself being lifted, and retched dryly again, then once more as she was dropped onto something soft.

It was at that point that she realized what was happening to her, and at who's hands. She tried her best to fight him off, but the world seemed set against her. She would have even gladly surrendered herself to unconsciousness until it was over, but he wouldn't have it. It didn't help that her bones were still vibrating from the earlier fight. She could also sense vibrations coming from Grunt's body as well, but these sickened and repulsed her. But she was just too weak.

"Vibe....."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wasn't sure how much time passed, and was only vaguely aware of hitting the ground.

“I cant wait till next time, it will be far better than this time I promise!”

She simply lay where she fell, barely conscious. Her bones had ceased vibrating, and her vision was blurred. Silence had returned to her world, but darkness still lingered, not quite ready to claim her yet. The only clue she had to the arrival of others were the shadows above her.

The touches she felt on her skin this time were gentle, but she was still in the grips of the emotions of the rape, and they disgusted her.

The touch of cloth against her body, completely covering her exposure, gave relief there were no words to explain. Tears began to drip from eyes she thought she had cried dry. By the time Grit and Shya got her to the Infirmary, unconsciousness had finally, albeit reluctantly, let her into its dark clutches.

Grit had left Shya’s side for a moment to get Amp the towel and flannel. Meanwhile Shya had knelt down next to her shoulder. There was a sensation Shya was blocking from herself. Then another and her cuff gave several warning buzzes.

Shya had been the one Sara had pegged as dead in the first few weeks, but rather then letting the camps take her down, she had taken on the burden of burying those it had claimed. Death wasn’t easy. She’d learned to death with death every day but this wasn’t a dead body she had led Grit to. This was someone who was living. Someone who could still… Well what couldn’t they do? She wasn’t dead just… Oh the blood. Shya felt her stomach tighted, her mouth went dry.

“… It’s going to be alright.” Some how those words found their way out her mouth though Shya wasn’t sure exactly of their origins. Nor was she really sure who they were really for.

Shya’s lips worked back and forth, pressing against each other. This could be her.

She shook that thought from her mind. It wasn’t her but it was still someone. Her hand gently found Amp’s wrist then the other girl’s fingers and pulling her digit around the other’s hand. Protecting those fingers. “You’ll see. We’ll get out of here.” Again she didn’t know who those words were for or where the whisper had come from.

Grit returned giving Shya another jump. Before she knew it they were headed to the infirmary.