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"I'm fine," Shay said, moving away from his rough hand. She didn't want his sympathy or concern right now. Now that the initial terror of the moment had faded somewhat, she winced inwardly at how she must've sounded.

While the memories where already muddled by her struggle for sanity, Shay was able to point him in the right direction. She trekked through the surprisingly thick underbrush, blue eyes scouting ahead. After a moment, she looked back, concern clear in her blue eyes. "How is he?" she asked, referring to Viktor, who was limp in Zane's arms.

Shay nodded. Though he seemed to be inproving somewhat, he still looked pale, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his clammy skin. His eyes were flitting back and forth underneath his eyelids, and he looked like he was sick or something. "What's wrong with him?" she asked softly. She didn't expect him to know the answer; it was more of a rhetorical question.

"Zane, what if they find out about us?" Shay's worried gaze met his.

Shay nodded doubtfully, not completely assured. They then entered the fringes of town, and she pointed out the large, white-ish building. "That's the hospital," she said.

The receptionist's brown eyes peered worriedly through her slim glasses. At the sight of Viktor, whose skin was pale and his breaths shallow, she nodded quickly. "Do you think your friend can wait, or is it an emergency?"

Shay walked in belatedly. Surprisingly, she shared the same fear as Zane. Well, it wans't that surprising, really. A hospital was the place that had started this battle for her humanity, the struggle everyday brought. A cold shiver raced down her spine, and an uneasy look flitted across her face as she stood next to Zane, each muscles rigid and tense.

If the receptionist noticed the subtle change in his eyes, she didn't acknowledge or react to it. She nodded briskly, and said a few urgent things into the headpiece she wore. "Take him to Room 113. It's right around the corner," she instructed after a moment.