Open mouthed, Quen gaped stupidly at the hand on his arm, lifting his gaze and beginning to form a question. Watching Zilah watch her fingers, he couldnâ€™t help but wonder what she was up to. Had it really been so long since heâ€™d been touched that this one made him so wary and thrilled? The question and breath froze in his throat. He let her have whatever she was searching for from him, too uncertain of what he thought himself to do otherwise.<br/><br/>This had been what heâ€™d wanted, hadnâ€™t it?<br/><br/>At that moment, what he wanted was to crush this young woman close to him and drink in the warmth and life of real human companionship. He almost did before he remembered that she was still hurt and might not enjoy it as much as he would. Not if he touched the wound or squeezed too hard. So his fingers hovered inches from her skin and brushed it when she pulled away.<br/><br/>â€œIâ€¦â€ I canâ€™t. But that wasnâ€™t entirely true. No one knew, no one could know, where he was now. They would search of course, if he didnâ€™t report back when he was due. His route would be duly swept and distress signals would be listened for. But the void was deep and vast and the second his air was scheduled to run out, they would give up and tell his sister he was dead. No more effort would be wasted. Isa would mourn, but she had her family and a business to run. He would be able to return the hero he had once dreamt of being as a boy.<br/><br/><br/>He tried again. â€œThatâ€™sâ€¦â€ stealing? Was it really? It was stolen property in the first place. Although without proof, heâ€™d also be breaking into someone elseâ€™s property illegally. That wouldnâ€™t make him any better than they were. Yet he had spent his whole life working to make sure everyone else followed the laws.<br/><br/>Only now he didnâ€™t want Zilah to die. He wasnâ€™t sure why it mattered to him besides the fact that she was the only reason he was alive now, but he couldnâ€™t live with himself if she was dead. Or maybe he just wouldnâ€™t be able to live with himself knowing that he had caused it.<br/><br/>If that was the choice he had to make, maybe he should.<br/><br/>This time he did manage to get sutures and bandages and emptied half the remaining alcohol into a container to soak the bandages in. It annoyed him how little he could access in the med-bay without the chimp.<br/><br/>â€œOkay.â€ What if she was lying to him? What if she didnâ€™t plan on doing what she said at all? Quen still wasnâ€™t sure if he could trust her. He knew it could be a lie. But why? There wasnâ€™t anything she could gain by lying to him now. â€œIf you help me, Iâ€™ll let you go afterward. No one ever has to know what happened.â€<br/><br/>He didnâ€™t warn her when he started to pull the strings of glue loose, or when he doused the area with part of the remaining whiskey. But he did ask, â€œNeed something to bite?â€ before he began the process of sewing her up.