Malia didn’t say a word as Carson picked her up off her feet, she simply rested her head against his chest, her eyes fluttering closed. She did give him a smile, however. She was just plainly exhausted, and she knew he was as well. She gently touched below a mark across his cheek, but she closed her eyes again as he carried her to the Med ward. There were a bunch of people waiting for attention all the same, and Malia and Carson were at the back. Some others needed to use TRIM before Malia did, and she tried to get as many to go before her as she could—she insisted. Her leg was in awful pain, but her injuries weren’t crippling. When she was cleaning up Carson’s wounds, they both remained silent yet again. Words didn’t need to be said, being close to him was enough. It seemed the whole bunker was quiet.<br/><br/>She was gentle cleaning him up, being sure not to hurt him further, but there was only so much she could do. He didn’t have too many bad cuts, but she did stitch one up. Eventually, she was let into TRIM, and the machine stitched and healed her wound with some sort of protein, stopping the bleeding. She was confused as well at the ‘chemical imbalance’ it claimed she had, but when the machine said she wasn’t in danger, she brushed it aside. It said that it would analyze the imbalance, and she could come back tomorrow to find out what it was. She planned to do so, but for now they both needed to go back and change.<br/><br/>At the CIC, she had to pull her eyes away from the blood that pooled on their floor. Instead, she got some clothes from the drawers, pulling off her torn and bloody clothes, completely changing, from shirt down to underwear. When Carson gave her a kiss, she returned it gently, her hand cupping his cheek. He was tired, that she could see. She ran her thumb under his eye, leaning her forehead against him for a moment before turning back, combing her fingers through her hair. She still had a slight limp, but mostly from temporary weakness, not pain.<br/><br/>When Carson offered her to go with him or to stay, she chose to stay by his side. She held his hand until they got to Max’s body, and she let go, staying silent as Carson carried him out. She followed behind him, not letting her eyes look to the young boy, but clutching a pin in her hand. Her raven pin. Once they had dug out a spot for him, his body lowered down, Malia bent down. She gently pinned her raven to his coat, sighing softly, shaking her head. He was young, he could’ve had a good future. She stood back up again, helping Carson to push the dirt over his body, standing back up once he was completely covered. She leaned against Carson’s arm, holding his bicep as he looked to the sky, Malia’s eyes on the ground. She walked away and found a brick that was misplaced. She took out her knife, carving ‘Max’ into the stone, before setting it at the head of his final resting spot. Too soon, way too soon.<br/><br/>Once finished, Carson heading down to where the Striders were burning the bodies, Malia returned to Central. She decided to begin cleaning their room, cleaning the rest of the halls could wait until tomorrow. She grabbed a floor brush and a bucket of soap and water before she got on her knees, trying to scrub the blood from their floor. She got the majority of it out, the water stained red by the time she was done. There was still a faint stain, but she covered it up with a random rug type thing she found in the closet. After that, she changed again, into some comfier clothes, before walking to their pantry. She grabbed her and Carson a soup, heating into up on a hot plate and pouring it into a bowl, luckily just as Carson walked into Central. He looked empty, drained...he looked a wreck. Malia held both bowls in her one arm as she walked over to him, looping her arm behind his back. She guided him to their room before closing the door.<br/><br/>She set the bowls on the side table before sitting Carson down. She carefully peeled his shirt off his body, kissing him before and after she lifted it off his head. “We can shower later.” She had him shimmy out of his pants, too. She grabbed a warm wash cloth from the bathroom as well as a towel, just wiping the dirt from his skin so he wasn’t so gross while wearing new clothes. She then handed him new clothes —sweatpants and a loose cotton shirt— before having him crawl into bed with her. She handed him his soup, as well as a water, before taking her own, sitting next to him, her arm against his. She held her soup in one hand, the other holding the cheek farthest from her as she pressed a kiss to the side of his head, running her fingers through his short hair before going back to her soup.<br/><br/>“You did amazing today, Cars. You’re the reason Central is still standing. You know that, right? If it weren’t for you, for your training, we’d all be dead.” She took a bite of her soup before reaching and rubbing his back for a moment. “I’m sorry about your sister. I know that’s shes evil and all, but I’m just sorry you never knew her, that she wasn’t a better person. That she stabbed me.” She tried to throw in some humor, but not even she could truly smile. “Let’s sleep late, everyone else is. I’ll wake up early if you just want someone awake. We can clean up everything tomorrow, I think the manority of the runners are asleep.” She leaned back against him, but then a thought struck her. “Did you see Sunny? Do you know where her and Nat are?”