"If I was going to die you'd tell me, right?" He muttered apropos of nothing just as she was about to fall asleep. His words were slurred and very soft, making her wonder how intoxicated he was. It wasn't as if he hadn't drank and taken those pills. Even if he hadn't, the fever he had was very high. Enough that she could feel the heat radiating off of him just by sharing the bed. She rolled over and looked at him. His eyes were closed and he was laying very still other than the steady rise and fall of his chest to indicate he was still breathing.

"Would you want to know?" She asked. He laughed, kind of, it was a lazy laugh and it sounded like he had very little energy to make the noise. He was definitely out of it and it was questionable how aware of the conversation he even was. This was something he probably wouldn't remember in the morning.

"I was supposed to be on one of...one of those planes you know." He muttered.

"One of what planes?"

"9/11."

"Were you?" She asked, though she didn't know how true that was because she didn't know much about him. It made her annoyed with herself, because she was almost positive that if he was telling the truth this would have been news somewhere and it would have been news that she missed because he was a celebrity and she didn't follow any of that stuff. It was an extremely weird claim to make if it hadn't happened so she was just going to go with it being the truth and would verify it later. "Would you have wanted to know then?"

"You mean before or after boarding?"

"After, obviously. I don't think you would have still gotten on the plane before." She said, putting a gentle hand on his arm.

"I'd still have gotten on the plane this time." He said.

"Even knowing this is where you'd end up?"

"I like being with you, it's nice. You don't know anything about me and you treat me like a normal...normal guy." He said, a kind of goofy smile spreading across his face. She laughed and reached up to stroke his hair softly.

"I hate to break it to you but you are a normal guy." She whispered.

"And you are an heiress, could buy and sell me."

"But I wouldn't."

"None of this answers my question. Would you tell me...if I was going to die?" He repeated. She had been hoping to avoid answering that question but if he was determined on getting an answer then she didn't think she'd have a choice. Her only hope would be that he wouldn't recall whatever she said, or he was being completely honest so she could have some idea what to do if she felt like he was knocking on death's door.

"I would give you some indication of it, yes. I think it's the right thing to do." She said, "Unless you told me explicitly you didn't want to know."

"I...I do want to know but I think...it's probably something people can feel." He said.

"Probably," She said, "I've never been close to dying and aware enough of it to know so I couldn't tell you." When the plane crashed and she was underwater, or whatever had happened that left her memory blank before waking up on the shore, she could have died. Given the fact that she didn't even remember the plane going down or what really happened shortly after they had taken off, she also had no way of knowing how close she may have come to death. Him either. Since she was a doctor and she knew a lot about the physical nature of the body, part of her thought that if she was truly about to die she'd recognize the symptoms of it within herself. She definitely would be able to tell if it was about to happen to another person. She'd seen it happen a few times, and those times had not been pretty.

"Tell me, if it's going to happen and you know. Tell me." He muttered.

"If that's what you want, I'll tell you but you have a long way to go before that point. Trust me." She assured him and laid her head back down on the pillow next to his. He muttered something that she didn't understand, though it may have just been random sounds and not real words and then he rolled over. She chuckled to herself and curled up close to him. That had been an interesting conversation but she was exhausted so she'd have to let it be until morning when she could really think about it.

*****

"Leila?"

"Hmm?" She asked, vaguely aware of Seth saying her name. Her eyes opened slowly and she realized she was in a bed, still in a bed, it hadn't been a dream. "What's wrong?" She rolled over to look at him.

"My leg," He said, "I can barely move it." She blinked and sat up more then pulled back the sheet. His thigh was very swollen and red. If she had to guess a lot of the swelling there was going to be puss from the infection that had already been brewing for a few days. She rubbed her eyes and then looked at him.

"It's infected and it's bad." She muttered, "I'm probably going to need to drain it which is really going to suck."

"More or less than when you cleaned it by the river?"

"Way...way more." She told him and got out of bed. "I guess the good news is that there are better supplies here, it's cleaner, and I can get you trashed on booze and pills before I start." He looked skeptical about this but laid back down in bed and closed his eyes. She wasn't very optimistic about it herself, the antibiotics should have been working and it was possible they were at least helping but if the infection was massive then it was going to take more of them (and longer) to work. This was hopefully the worst of it but she didn't know. It prompted her to recall the conversation from the night before and wonder if he remembered any of what he had said.

"Well, I guess we should get started on that, then..." He said, giving her a look.

"Yeah," She nodded, "You'll want to eat first, and...well let me just get a bunch of stuff ready you wait here and try to relax."

"Easier said than done." He sighed.

"I know." She replied and patted him on the arm. Out of the massive collection of supplies in the basement, she was hoping she'd find something useful, it was doubtful that she wouldn't. All she would really need to drain his wound was a clean syringe but anything beyond that would be a blessing. She went into the bathroom and got herself cleaned up a bit before heading down into the kitchen. Once she was in there she put some water on to boil because she was going to make a saline solution to rinse out the area as best she could while draining anything else from it. The last thing she wanted to do was cut into him, again, but if she couldn't find a syringe to pull out the puss she was going to have to find another way entirely.

Down in the basement, she went over to the shelf of first aid supplies and started to rummage through them. She found a box of individual and wrapped syringes which she was very thankful for. She also found alcohol swabs and a few bottles of rubbing alcohol, gauze, medical tape, and a few scalpels. Since she didn't need everything, she grabbed a small empty box to put some supplies in, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from a different shelf as she passed it. She wasn't a regular smoker but she was starting to feel like she could really use a smoke right about then. By the time she got upstairs the water was boiling and she added in the correct ratio of salt she would need to use in order to make it sterile and easier to use.

While that was being taken care of she went through the other supplies in the kitchen. There weren't a ton of things that were edible but she did find some oatmeal which she made, adding a bit of brown sugar into it to sweeten it up. She also made more coffee and ate her own food while she was preparing everything so there would be less to carry upstairs. The last thing she did, before heading back up, was have a cigarette. He hadn't made any indication he was a smoker, nor had he asked for one in the past few days so she assumed it might bother him to be around her while she smoked which was why she'd done it completely away from him.

As she walked into the bedroom again with a bowl of oatmeal and mug of coffee, she saw Seth laying on his side, staring at the TV that was just playing static. He seemed to hear her enter and he rolled over to look in her direction. She came to the bed and held out the tray as he sat up and he took it from her as she set the box of medical supplies by the bed. The pills he would need to take were already on the tray and that was the very first thing he did before he started to eat.

"You're a lifesaver you know." He said once his mouth wasn't jammed full of food.

"We'll see about that," She laughed softly, "Sorry, bad time for a joke."

"It's fine," He chuckled, "We should find another movie to watch."

"Have any suggestions? I haven't seen most of those films." She replied. He had picked the movie the night before too. Something called Back To The Future which she'd never seen (only heard of) and then had to listen to a lecture about how it shouldn't have been possible for someone her age to have not seen that movie before, which it was. She had never been much of a movie person. He didn't seem to believe her at first but the more the movie played, the more he realized that she wasn't just jerking his chain.

"I can't see all of them from here, read me off some titles." He said. She got up and walked over to the shelves to look over the collection of tapes. The only titles she read off were the ones where the tape didn't look warped or like it wouldn't play, which was quite a few of them. Then she got to one called Spaceballs. "That...that one."

"Spaceballs?" She asked and pulled it from the shelf, it hadn't even been unwrapped from its original plastic.

"Yes."

"What is it even about?" She asked, though instead of waiting for an answer she turned it over and looked at the back. It seemed to be a parody of Star Wars, of which she'd only ever seen the first movie, from the seventies. She knew there were a ton more than that but she'd never been interested despite her friend nagging her to watch some of them. At least the original trilogy she had complained.

"Don't tell me you haven't seen Star Wars." He said.

"I saw the first one with Luke Skywalker and that big hairy dog thing..." She said, "Harrison Ford was in it I guess he was pretty cute." He stared at her like she had just grown another head, it reminded her so much of how her friend Rika looked at her when she said something that was completely dorky and didn't measure up to current pop culture so she just had to laugh.

"Do you live under a rock?"

"No, I just...don't really have time for these things. I prefer documentaries anyway." She shrugged, "I'm sure I'll like it, I liked the other one. You have a good sense of humor."

"That is...quite an understatement." He laughed and went back to eating. She didn't know what he meant by that because she still didn't have the first clue as to what he did for a living other than the vague idea he was a voice actor and she still didn't want to ask because she didn't want to be annoying. If he wanted to bring it up, he could, and she wished he would but he hadn't so she was just kind of stuck in a limbo of having no idea what he actually did for a living.

"Why?"

"You really don't know who I am, do you? I mean that in a... non-egotistical way." He said, "It's okay that you don't I'm just not used to people at least knowing what Family Guy is."

"TV Show? Are you on that or something?"

"Yeah I voice like a dozen of the characters, and you don't have any idea what that is do you?" He asked.

"I mean I've heard of it...that's about the extent." She said and unwrapped the tape to bring it over to the VCR. "Anything else?"

"American Dad?"

"No...sorry."

"Ted?"

"Once again...no clue." She shook her head and popped the tape into the VCR. "I'm sure it'll be fun to catch up on all of that once we get back though. I promise I'll watch all of this Family Guy show or whatever, just for you." He laughed and took a sip of his coffee. She felt kind of bad that she didn't know any of these things but it did kind of make her realize how much she was missing out on.

"The internet says only the first few seasons are good, so I have to warn you." He said jokingly.

"The internet also makes people think they know better than doctors so I think I'll decide for myself what's good and what's not." She smiled. "I'm going to grab that scotch you liked so much last night."

"Good, think these pills are starting to kick in." He replied. She walked out of there and into the lounge area where all of the booze was and grabbed the bottle he had opened the night before. It was tempting to have a drink herself but she knew that it would also be a bad idea if she wanted to clean his leg properly. One drink wouldn't do much to her, and it certainly wouldn't make her intoxicated but she didn't see it as very professional or becoming of a doctor. What she feared the most was him going into shock and not being able to bring him out of it. All she knew was that if she didn't do her best to drain the infection and clean his leg as much as possible then he was as good as dead anyway. It was better to take the chance and hope that things cleared up than to sit around and do nothing at all, no matter how much the idea scared her.

"Here," She said, holding out the bottle as she came back into the bedroom. He grabbed it away from her once she was close enough and she took the tray to move it off to the side since he was finished eating. He opened the scotch and downed a few gulps quickly. She walked over to the VCR and pressed play. The screen was a bit wonky and warped at the edges and the colors were a bit off but it was better than having nothing at all to do.

"Did you smoke at some point?" He asked.

"Yeah, found a pack of cigarettes in the storage room down there." She nodded, "Sorry, if the smell is-"

"It's fine, I'm used to it. I guess I didn't expect such a good girl to smoke." He laughed.

"What makes you think I'm a good girl at all?" She asked, sitting down at the foot of the bed and turning to look at him.

"Are you kidding me? You're an FBI agent and I know about the whole heiress thing so there's no way you weren't brought up in a...delicate manner." He said, clearly trying to phrase it nicely. She chuckled and nodded her head. He actually wasn't that wrong about what he was saying but she wasn't good in every aspect of her life.

"You wouldn't be saying any of that if you knew what I did in the bedroom." She told him.

"Oh...and what is that supposed to mean?" He asked, leaning in as he became far more interested in the topic of conversation. He took another few gulps of scotch and she reached out to take the bottle away from him after. He'd had more than enough on top of the pills that she'd given him.

"I told you I work in sex crimes, which means I'm an expert on human sexuality, dysfunction, and deviance. In more ways than one, I'm a sex expert and I like it." She smiled. He grinned up at her stupidly and she shoved him back onto the bed so he was laying down. She capped the bottle of scotch and moved it out of his direct reach and started to shove him until he shifted onto his side so she could get at his thigh easier.

"You're really going to have to give me some lessons then if that's the case." He said, his speech starting to slur a bit.

"I think that can be arranged once you start to feel better." She replied, opening the box of supplies to get out a few of the alcohol swabs. "Too bad I didn't end up having to owe you that blow job, you know, because the house was actually here and all."

"You wouldn't deny a dying man his last request though, would you?"

"You aren't going to die. Not on my watch." She replied even though she wasn't sure if that was true. If he got sepsis or went into shock there wouldn't be much she could do, but for now, she was intent on preventing it as best she could and hoping that it worked. "Take a few deep breaths in and out, I'm going to get started and it's not going to be fun."

"Alright, Doc." He muttered, positioning himself a bit better so he could watch the TV and more than likely try to distract his mind from what she was going to be doing. She started to clean her hands with the alcohol swab and focus her brain on the task at hand. This wasn't going to be easy and once he figured out how much it actually hurt she didn't think he was going to want her to continue. It had to be done, no matter what, they no longer had a choice. There would be no use in putting off the inevitable.