Malia looked up to Carson as he handed her the pills, nodding and reaching over to him, wincing at the movement. She took the four pills in hand, as well as the water cup that he provided her before nodding as he gently excused himself from the room. She didn't mind him stepping out, and she had the feeling just the thought of her being away from him for more than just a moment scared him. She understood why, and she'd be okay with it for now. She just got him back, she didn't want to lose him yet again.<br/><br/>When he returned, she was teetering on the edge of consciousness, the pills he had given her doing their job, just as he had promised her. Her green eyes were half lidded as he helped her sit up, and she hardly noticed the pain that shot through her torso as he slipped a cover over her body. She leaned heavily on him, her breathing slightly increased at the effort. When he lifted her into his arms, she grimaced. "Fuck," she tried to adjust in his arms into a less painful position. She hardly paid any attention to their conversation, but before Carson could walk away, she reached out and took Max's hand. "Please, please come Max." Over the time she had spent with him, including the fact that he had saved he, she'd grown a soft spot for the boy. He was a pain in the ass, but he was loyal.<br/><br/>Malia could feel her consciousness slipping away from her, and by the time Carson had her seated on the growler, she was practically out. She grunted as the machine started up again, but leaned against his chest. Tilting her head down as to shield her face from the rain, she slowly closed her eyes, and let the darkness consume her awareness. She couldn't recall the ride back, but she could recall him lifting her from the Growler all those hours later, after they had arrived back at Central. The rain and the prolonged infection had pushed the pain killers away, and she hissed in pain as he carried her. The way her belly bent as he cradled her to him had her wound pressed against her upper torso--very painful. She didn't have to feel the pain for long. Even though she was awake, she was in and out of awareness, and the next thing she knew she was going under again, laying inside the TRIM-os machine.<br/><br/>She woke later the next day, her eyes fluttering open. She reached a hand up, groggily wiping her face as her eyes adjusted. She glanced around the room, seeing the familiar General Quarters room she had slept in the night before she had been injured. The next thing she noticed, was the lack of pain in her torso. She carefully felt the skin there, noting the soreness, but delighted to be lacking the sting. And, finally, she registered a hand in hers. Carson's hand. She smiled to herself-- He was really here. She hadn't dreamed that he returned, she didn't dream he brought her home. He really did.<br/><br/>She weakly squeezed his had, gaining his attention. Once he turned his eyes to hers, she offered him a smile. "Hey, baby." Her voice was soft, a mere whisper.