Max stepped through the forest, whistling to himself as the leaves crunches under his -stolen- boots. They used to belong to a raider, they were nicer leather than his old ones. They were a little big, but better. He’d delivered the message to River just as Malia has said long ago, and was back to his agenda of stealing. But his defense is that whatever he stole he would make better use of than who it had originally belonged to. That makes sense, right?<br/><br/>He’d been wandering for awhile. Not really lost, just exploring, per say. He wasn’t paying attention all that much where he was walking, and he paused as he came across an interesting scene. Three large men lay lifeless on the ground, as well as one small individual. It was a runner, he could see from the harness. He clicked his rogue, tilting his head. “Well, good effort, my friend.” He walked to the first body of the Vanguard, snatching his gun from him, tucking it into his belt.<br/><br/>Max continued on, picking off the last two bodies before he made his way to the runner, but when he saw who lay against the tree, his heart stopped for a moment. He jogged over, kneeling by her and carefully placing his fingers against her neck. Her pulse pushed weakly against his fingers, and he cursed under his breath. “Fuck Malia, what did you do?” He looked around for Carson, seeing he was no where to be seen. “Doesn’t mean he’s dead.” He mumbled. He sighed and bent down, gently lifting her from the groun. Max was young, and little, but he was strong enough to carry the girl. “Alright, Lia. Let’s get you home.”<br/><br/>—2 weeks later—<br/><br/>When Max carried Lia back to Little Lake, they were able to somehow stabilize her. Her wound, while deep, missed any major organ, and all she was really in danger of was bleeding out in the forest floor. She was unconscious for a few days after she arrived back home, and when she woke, all she could do was lay in bed. She couldn’t walk, she couldn’t hardly move. But that was then. And this is now.<br/><br/>Malia sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes cast to the ground as her back hunched over. She hadn’t lost weight, having been unable to move, really. And her appetite was absent. She spent the majority of her time worrying about Carson. She didn’t know where he was, but she believed he wasn’t dead. She knew he wasn’t dead.<br/><br/>Max walked into her room and she snapped her head up, her eyes questioning. He simply shook his head. “We will find him, Lia. He’s not dead.”<br/><br/>“Let me go look, let me leave I can Find him.” She protested.<br/><br/>He simply raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms. “Okay, you walk without limping from there to me, and I’ll let you go.”<br/><br/>Malia simply grumbled, shaking her head. “Fine.” She sighed. He was alive, she could feel it. But did he know she was? He had left, they both had left, they had clearly assumed the worst.