Pulling down on the long sleeve of her thermal, Sophie waits.

This hospital, though small and lacking in the same rank stench of antiseptic and eerie cold she grew up with, it still held danger for her. Before all this, what dwelled inside of her kept her at risk. Now, with the outbreak and end of the world, she's El Dorado, The Fountain of Youth, a God damn unicorn. Sophie knew she'd never be safe. Doyle and Elisa shared her secret without her consent and it killed her to be outed, to be seen as something other than human....again.

Though she trusted Doyle to the grave, Elisa's tangled web with the districts kept her at arms length.

Elisa came with them. Escaped, with herself, Doyle, the child Abby, and the other soldier who died on their way here, named Williams. Surprising them all, Elisa left her blossoming career and followed Sophie wherever she'd go, proclaiming just as much, telling her what she'd been told since the morning she opened her eyes. That she was remarkable, unlike anything else. In other words, "inhuman".

They ended up in Richmond Hill after District 1 fell, since where else was there to go? As long as they kept her blood work and who she truly was from their hosting District in 4, Elisa promised her she'd be safe. Through Doyle's encouragement and his own promise to keep her safe, she'd settled into that promise, but it didn't come without the constant fidgeting accompanying the imaginary scenarios she couldn't control.

The door opens and Sophie's breathing eases, as the medical centers from her past no longer take centerstage in her mind.

Sophie says over the misplaced look on Elisa's face, "You have me here when the sun is up. I don't think Russell or the Sheriff saw me, but this is pretty risky..."

Elisa pulls down her square glasses that match her equally square jawline. Her fingers tremble at the thick black frames and her eyes heavy as they land on Sophie. With this look, Sophie's heart swims within every other place than where it calls home.

"Dr. Martin?" Sophie asks, taking a careful step toward her, as the woman with a brilliant mind and diverting stare hesitates to speak. Sophie asks with her first name this time, "Elisa, what is it?"

With trepidation tangible in every inch of the room, the doctor voices out, "I have something to show you. It's really quite remarkable. You may not believe it."

Together, they walk down the short hall of the first floor. Sophie had seen every other face in this colony, other than the man sitting soundly on the edge of the hospital's bed after Elisa opens the door and lets her inside.

Closing the door behind them, Elisa treats the cheap wood as if she's lowering the gates to a King's castle in such ease. In all her busying around the room and in her hushed ramblings, it's all drowned out to Sophie. Why was this man staring at her like that? Steady, challenging, as if to intimidate her to speak first. The man barely blinked, yet seemed entirely too relaxed at the same time to hold such an intense expression in his eyes alone.

Sophie is honed in, trying to see what Elisa sees, since she hears none of it in all of her random commentary and long, drawn out story about too much noise coming from the classified third floor.

The break of their own silent exchange comes when Elisa passes between them, giving Sophie the opportunity to look away first, if just for a moment. Yet, even in her brief release he stares as if no one else existed in the room.

The sleeve of his red flannel shirt is rolled up by Elisa and the man finally makes a movement. He lifts his arm just slightly enough to aid Elisa in whatever she's trying to show Sophie.

On his forearm, Sophie finally sees what haunts in Elisa's eyes, what possibly had been haunting in his. It may have been what her own face looked like whenever she feared someone got too close to a single truth. In her disbelief, Sophie expels the softest breath.

Scarred over, clear to read as what it is and nothing more, the bites of the dead didn't take this man with them.

All the while, he remains staring at Sophie. That unreadable, steady look, that seemed as if some other form of death had taken him over. Should she have been the Sophie Grey of yesteryears, she might'e blushed or coward away like Elisa often did to pretty much everyone. The Sophie now, found a relief that she wasn't alone. Alone, in being a freak, and the sole attentions of Elisa, and whoever else might learn of her affliction with the intent to bleed her dry to save their own skins.

Before she ever met Elisa, before District life, she'd been with a group of those immune to the bites. Like her, they came from a lab, not from a womb. This man, she wondered, was he birthed or manufactured like her?

"Where did you come from?" Sophie asks, keeping her distance though she wants to touch his scars as Elisa does in all her awed inspecting through vinyl gloves.

It's here where he noticeably blinks and though he's not easy to read, Sophie detects a bit of annoyance from the flare of his nostrils.

"E'rywhere nowadays. Don' all-a-us?" he responds, his drawl heavier than those eyes of his.

Sophie flinches, his nearly undecipherable answer valid, but dismissive. She glares, readying a biting response, but the doctor speaks first.

Elisa clarifies, "He came in with Dalton the other day. I noticed his scar when I cleared them of the infection. Now that Russell is distracted with the setting-up of another farm, I figured now was a good time to bring you in. Having you come in—sneaking in—at night, would have been tricky with all the patrol going on. And, I wanted you to see him for yourself and meet him..."

He cuts her off, his eyes finally breaking from Sophie as he looks off, "Ain' got no reason for keepin' secrets."

"Well, for both of us, I think it's a good idea to keep your mouth shut," Sophie blurts out, her fate now tied to the lips of this stranger before her.

A man, who didn't really seem to care much for anything. Especially, the English language and how to pronounce things properly.

From his persevering vacancy, Sophie notices a passing flicker. A small given flare from him, that offers a threat, an interest, something just as unreadable as his dialect. Her mind runs wild with all the new ways this can threaten her by his existence alone, she's certain the panic shows in her face and she's pissed that Elisa disclosed her secret to some stranger with a scar. Just because they might have something in common, it did not make them allies.

He shakes down his sleeve, taking his feet to make his muddied boots meet the linoleum. Recognizing that dirt and the strong black color, it's obvious he's been placed to work on one of the farms. Living, not among her, Doyle or Elisa as other working civilians, but in hard labor designed for men of his build and presumably—his background.

"Won't be a cause worth worryin' over, ma'am. Ain' got a care-in-tha world ta tell nobody. Just-a fluke is all," he's saying as he leaves, not looking for permission, nor asking if they were finished here.

As he walks past Sophie, she smells the earth, the sweat, the scent of a man who had his mind on a thousand chores left to do and not in comforting Sophie in any way—not that she'd done anything to deserve it.

"Thank you, Nick..." Elisa calls after him, but the door is closed before his name can meet the door's opening.

Sophie made quick, passing judgments on this man. Questioning her motives behind the stereotypes she didn't normally give, she wondered if it came from her troubled past or in all her time hanging around a mistrustful soldier who had a bad habit of doing just the same.

When Sophie hears him make it far enough down the hall, she jokes, "I think if you would have given me a knife to hold to his throat it might have gone just a little bit smoother."

Glasses slipping back down her nose, Elisa pushes them up and replies, "It was a bit of a shock for me, so I can't imagine what it was like for you. I'm sorry, I thought it was best to show you rather than just tell you. I imagined you would've wanted to meet him. He's not exactly the most talkative. So, that wasn't just you. I could barely get two words out of him. Well, words that made sense anyway. And how he looked at you I mean, he really, really looked at you...strangely. He's probably just as worried as you are about keeping this in this room...districts are killing for the likes of both of you. We both know this. Maybe he does too."

Sophie's hand goes up. For the first time since arriving here, her impatience shows with the chatty doctor. "Please, Elisa, I'm sure he's just a little slow in the head. And I'm hoping he is, since you thought it was somehow OK to share my business to some stranger. I don't need everyone knowing I'm immune. Thought it was pretty much understood since day one that it was a secret!"

Gripping the corner of the nearby counter in her frustration, it takes all her strength not to throw something or scream in the rage she feels with Elisa's own stupidity.

"I..." Elisa's voice breaks, her stammer beating to her nerves, "I...didn't tell him you were also immune. I lied to him, in part. Told him you were a nurse, of course, which you are here...but I told him you needed to ask him a few questions as his primary care physician in Richmond Hill from here on out..."

Sophie grimaces to herself over all of her new talents in presumptions. She betrayed herself over anyone else.

"I'm sorry," Sophie says, "I just thought..."

"No, it's alright," Elisa interrupts, then continues, "Maybe it's best he got chased out of here anyway. He might have learned too much and we don't know if we can trust him with anything. Russell is all about protecting this building above all things and just having Nick finding the need to come back and forth in any pursuit he has to talk to you, or to me, would have spelled trouble. The writing was on the wall, I guess."

The second floor, the third floor, were secrets to Sophie and the majority of the colony. Those who knew of what Russell hid up there, surely belonged to Russell's small umbrella. Elisa, in all her brilliance, now unfortunately fell under that umbrella, but without the perks of being in The Guard. She worked long hours and was sworn to secrecy, or threatened to secrecy. Sophie pined, yearned, begged to know what Elisa knew, even with just her clearance to the second floor. She longed sneaking up to see just what their leader was hiding, but had yet to find her opportunity.

Sophie heard of people disappearing. Exiled, at times, in public disgrace. Others, were rumored to have disappeared in the night. Runaways, they were told. Since her arrival, Sophie heard rumors but had yet to be around for any of these mysterious happenings or trials. Elisa too, but the doctor feared the man in charge more than most did. Though Sophie considered her a friend, of sorts, Elisa's growing distance from the group she came with didn't go unnoticed by any of them.

Presumptions abound on that matter alone, Sophie bit back and the hundreds of questions that dared to shout from her lips.

As Sophie obsessed on what's hidden, Elisa dwells on what's in front of her. And, finally, is compelled to tell Sophie, what she wanted to say since they arrived at Richmond Hill.

"Ever since the helicopter crash, I can't help but wonder if I found a cure, that there was some way I could have saved him. You and Doyle were unconscious during those hours, but I was awake. Next to Williams, watching his injuries take him. Then, he turned. I wish I'd been anywhere else but there. Trapped, feeling the scratch of his fingernails against my arm as he reached for me..."

The doctor touches where her memory brings her, squeezing her own arm as if to chase away the sensation. She continues, "Abby was awake, but thankfully she couldn't see what was happening. She had the other dead around us to reach after her...I'm sure those nightmares won't be chased away easily either..."

Sophie, knowing well where all this is going, tries to swallow down the guilt and the frustration where all conversations of her immunity lead.

Elisa adds after a lengthy sigh, "I stay here for you, for Doyle, for Abby. But, I don't think I can stay much longer. I thought you should be the first to know I've made contact over the channels to District 8. When they send scouts over to the coast for survivors, they will come to take me there. I don't expect you to come, but I wish you'd consider it. It could take weeks, it could take months, they couldn't give me a time frame. With the food shortage here in the colony, we could all have one less thing to worry about. If we approach them with your immunity and place you explicitly under my care, I promise you that you won't be part of anything remotely close to what you think might happen—"

"I'm not going anywhere. This is my home. Ask flannel-boy. He can be your new pet," Sophie blurts out, her knuckles white as she grips the counter.

Ready to take her leave in a similar fashion to that of her new awkward acquaintance, Nick, her hand is frozen over the doorknob when she hears a team of boots coming down the hall.

Elisa is first to exit as Sophie keeps hidden in the room. Having abandoned her work post for the time being, Sophie wasn't ready to take the punishment of working on the farmlands for the next month.

From beyond the door Sophie hears the echo of a pained grunt. Then, a shout as the room she previously occupied is invaded with the new patient.

Elisa greets the sight of blood, a trail marked behind them in trauma, as the Sheriff is plopped down clutching her shoulder in agony on the gurney.

A furious Russell, turns as red as the river behind him. He seethes to Elisa, "Take care of her and let no one in here but me! Do you understand? Not a damn soul even enters this hospital but the men I already have stationed in the hall!"

"Yes, yes, yes..." Elisa flinches, her hands trembling as she begins to tend to Ana Maria.

The room clears, the guns already drawn out from their holsters as they hunt for whoever did this begins beyond the safety of her hospital walls.

Sophie knows she should stay, but all she can think of is Doyle and her suspicions that he might have had something to do with this. Or, even worse, that they were on the brink of another outbreak like in District 1.

Fearing the dead had erupted into the colony as they did in every other safe haven she'd ever known, Sophie's in search of the one man who can offer her peace of mind.

Unsure if he's on his double-shift at the watchtower, or home resting, Sophie heads for the closest point to check.

Transiting from a run into a walk when she passes members of the guard, they inspect her flushed face with great intent. They were looking for someone and the tension had a ripple effect on the entire energy of Richmond Hill. It felt like a ghost-town and should a tumbleweed blow by, Sophie wouldn't find it ill-placed.

Anticipating Doyle had something to do with this with his volatile feelings on Russell and his rules, Doyle's the highest suspect in her own mind of the newfound trouble. A soldier who no longer had a cause, no longer took orders from anyone and resented those in charge here. He'd been a man of order, now a nonconformist birthed in a corrupt world. A long time coming here in the colony, no doubt, but Sophie's certain that her presence in his home district triggered everything the war veteran held in contempt against his own government. Most of his recent actions and why he was here, all because of her and her secret.

The schoolyard clear across the other side of the colony, Sophie wonders if they had enough time to get to Abby. If an outbreak was on the brink, or if Doyle faced exile from the colony, either way they'd have to come back for her.

Imagining whatever could worsen her previous thoughts into the next, Sophie is propelled into a run again when out of sight of Russell's guard.

When she arrives, she breathes out pained air from her lungs and makes her slow approach to this cottage.

The door gives off a cloud of dust when she opens it. It hits her with the stale cigarettes and an empty gloom that shrouded his living space. The old powder billows around her and when it begins to settle, she calls his name warily.

Her pleading voice reverberates off of the empty walls. Doyle, never having made much of a home in the bungalow given to him, just had his mattress and nothing else. He slept here, hid here from the dead, the living, from the outside world at large. Whatever it was he did with his time outside of visiting her and Abby, remained a mystery. Admittedly, Sophie wasn't sure she could handle the dark side of Doyle that she caught mere glimpses of in their few months together.

She takes a breath as she steps in. The smell of ache, the perpetual smolder that couldn't escape through his locked windows and doors thickens the empty space.

Again, she calls for him, softer, as she peers around the corner.

And then she finds him.

He's dressed in his combat uniform, ready to start a shift, but there's something dire in his eyes.

"Doyle..." She repeats his name, softer still.

"She was here. She came to me." he replies, flatly.

"Elisa? She was here? Abby?" Sophie offers names he might struggle to remember. Though she knew little of post-traumatic stress disorder, she knew enough by being in the company of him to tread lightly.

He quivers out, "My wife."

Though Sophie knew nothing of the Doyle before District 1, especially in regard to his personal life, she wondered if a switch within Doyle flipped.

Gulping and staying put, she asks shakily, "What did she have to say?"

His face is troubled, tormented. Everything, that begs for her comfort, yet throws up red flags to stay away all the same. Sophie finds her own form of torture in this threshold on what she should do, on what she should say.

He replies, "That she's watching us. All of us. I need to leave. I need to find her..."

Sophie takes her brave step forward as Doyle begins to pace. An outburst is near, a meltdown that can't be calmed should she set off the bomb within the soldier.

"Doyle, Russell's got the guard out in force right now throughout the colony....did you..." She trails off, afraid of every word she lets loose. Then, she hurriedly asks, "Did you do anything that you can remember? Someone shot the sheriff..."

Through his russet hair, his nervous fingers travel. Combing over his entire head in all his pacing, tears begin to stream down his face. He's unravelling and unsure of every thought he might be having, Doyle lets out a scream that brings Sophie to jump back.

From facing with the dead, shady survivors, and the constant threat of her youth, Sophie felt a different fear in a new unknown. A man so solid, it didn't take much to turn him when his past shaded a darker form.

"It's okay, Doyle, please..." Sophie tries to calm him down and as Doyle finds a place to rest his subsiding rage against the wall. His forehead presses against the cool support, and Sophie tunes into the sound of his slowing breathing.