Maeve lowered the sleeping bag from where she'd been clutching it to her face and turned gleaming, bloodshot eyes to Dreamer.  The pain was still there, but there was something else there now also... a kind of softening around the eyes, a look of something having finally been confirmed.  "I'll... be fine here," she said softly, her voice hoarse.  "Go... go get what you need."<br/><br/>Dreamer nodded quietly and pushed open the door.  He stepped out and with a sweep of his right hand he cleared the open window of broken glass as though he wasn't worried about cutting himself.  Maeve caught a glint of silver from the gaping (but no longer bleeding) wound at his right bicep as the sun reflected off something there.<br/><br/>"You're right, Kitten, I'd better get the gas," Dreamer said, looking over his shoulder at the large equipment shed they'd pulled up in front of.  "Unless you know the difference between gasoline and diesel fuel."  He shook his head.  "Besides, I'm sure Sherra's worried about you, and... and the little one wasn't scared of you like she was of me."  There was a trace of bitterness to his voice, but it didn't stay for long.  "Don't run through the corn.  The leaves can cut skin if you're not careful.  And make sure you're armed, just in case."<br/><br/>He shook his head and turned completely to the equipment shed.  Like all of Maeve's buildings, the roof had been painted purple, something you would think would look garish but strangely seemed to fit.  The large sliding hangar doors were the same color, and were still firmly closed.  The small door to their right was usually secured with a padlock, but he wouldn't have trouble breaking it.<br/><br/>He left Maeve the SMG and he headed for the building, his ears peeled for noise from within, and he focused on the small door.  If the lock was gone, there could be rebels in there... he could well understand it if some humans had decided to "play" with the machinery they'd never been able to drive before.