The smell of hot plasma filled the air like smoke in a burning building.

"Targets are retreating!" Jonah shouted, looking out of the open overhead door. The sandstorm had officially hit. Quixxa spared a glance towards the open door. She barely saw a thing past the screaming wall of sand that had engulfed New Medina.

"Get this door shut!" Jonah shouted over the roar of the storm.

Quixxa ignored the order, placing her full attention back on Runt.

He was leaned against the grill of the van, panting with his helmet beside him. He'd only managed to clamber out of the vehicle and make it this far before he'd nearly fallen over. Quixxa had been the one to lug him to the van and prop him up in front of it, where he was now.

"Just hang on Runt." She said, digging through her bag. "Hang on."

It wasn't there.

She looked back over her shoulder to Jonah, his gun shouldered as he aimed out the door while it closed.

"Jonah!" She shouted. "Where are those vials?"

He glanced back at her, starting to backpedal as the storm shut out.

"On the workbench, over by the ammo." He said, looking ahead again and sighting down his gun.

"Hold on!" he said, "We've got movement, cover to the right flank, move!"

Three mercenaries hustled to the windows and door on the far north side of the warehouse, taking up defensive positions as rioters tried mindlessly to break into every building in search of shelter.

Quixxa looked at Runt.

He was breathing shallowly, staring straight ahead and shaking.

She shook her head.

He shouldn't have been like this.

She'd seen him in high stress situations before. He'd been in riots. He'd been in fights. He'd been side by side with her when shots had been fired, when brawls had broken out, and when police had nearly arrested them both.

This wasn't the first time he'd been under pressure.

But it was the first time he'd caved.

She just didn't understand.

The police couldn't have been that brutal. Distressing, yes. Harsh, yes.

But Runt had weathered all that before.

This time, though, he was in bad shape. Something was different. But not about the situation. About him. Something about him had changed. Shifted, rather. Just slightly. Enough to worry her. Enough that she knew he needed to get his hormone levels back to normal.

That would do any male Springer as much good as anything.

Quixxa grabbed Runt by the armor around his neck.

"Runt, hold on. You're gonna be fine." She said, thumping his armor on the chestplate. "I'm gonna get your meds."

Runt nodded blankly, and Quixxa took off.

Come on Quix, think... What changed?

She stopped at the bench, and glanced around. The stainless steel cylinder was waiting for her, the side of it still displaying the internal temperature.

-40.

She grabbed it.

Nothing... Nothing changed.

She swallowed.

There was always the possibility that Runt was coming off his pills badly.

But that would have been a mind game...

Quixxa stopped in her tracks, biting her lip and looking at Runt from a distance.

He had leaned his head against the van and was staring at the ceiling, breathing harder and trying to blink back tears.

"Contact!" Jonah suddenly yelled.

A few ion rounds popped off, echoing through the warehouse.

Runt jumped, closing his eyes tight as a few tears spilled over.

This was her fault.

At least, it probably was. She certainly hadn't done him any favors. She swallowed hard, squeezing the canister. The pills she'd fed him hadn't done him any good. At least, not realistically. They cheered him up, sure. And for a while, that'd been enough to pacify her wilted conscience.

Now it wasn't.

And it never should have been.

Quixxa set her jaw and cursed at herself a few times.

She should have gotten Runt this canister months ago.

She should have been honest.

She shouldn't have ever, ever tried to compromise. Runt was worth more than half of her, worth more than a semi-honest attempt to shoulder his burden alongside him.

She'd told herself that the hormones taken now would make up for everything back then.

Maybe they would have.

But she didn't think they could make up for it now.

Quixxa pulled the cylinder open with a twist, and cold air bellowed out. Rows of vials shimmered with condensation.

It should have helped.

But something about it only made her feel worse.

Quixxa swallowed, and pulled a vial out of the canister. She slid it back shut, and looked at Runt.

God... please. I can't take this. Help him. Please.

She set the canister back on the table and walked back to Runt.

She sat down beside him and dug into her pack for one of the syringes she'd grabbed for Runt. She slipped the vial into the syringe's chamber and pressed the plunger until the vial clicked.

"Here." She said, "Can I see your leg?"

Runt inhaled, nodding as he started to reach for his right leg's releases.

His armor relaxed as he unlatched it and let the suit's thigh-covering piece fall to the floor.

Quixxa looked at his leg, and watched the muscles tremble.

"Sorry I don't have antiseptic..." She said, pressing her hand against his skin.

Runt shrugged, and kept looking upward. He wiped at his tears as Quixxa pulled the sterile needle cap off.

"Ok, gonna go now." She said.

Runt nodded again.

Quix stuck the short needle into his skin.

Immediately, the muscles just under the skin seized up, hardening his skin up like a rock. She injected the vial over a few seconds, and pulled the needle out.

Not a drop of blood leaked out.

She let out a sigh of relief. At least his body was still working well enough that his muscles reacted right. Any wound should have been immediately sealed by the constriction of muscle.

Quix patted his leg for a minute, trying to disperse the hormones.

"There." She said. "You're gonna be alright, Runt. We're safe here."

Runt nodded as she switched to rubbing his leg, trying to relax the muscles.

"You alright?"

Runt wrapped his arm around Quixxa, tipping his brow against hers.

"Thank you Quix." He said. "Thank you for everything."

Quixxa bit her lip quietly.

"You're welcome, Runt."

Runt shook his head, and wrapped both arms around her, squeezing tighter.

"Thank you."