After that whole fiasco with Maria and Michael, Dresden had ordered us all to rest. He had been less than impressed with us, but at the same time likened the incident with a carpenter hammering a nail through his hand, rather than the wood, when too tired to concentrate.

I'm not sure if getting a nail through your hand could - or should - be paralleled to what had happened to Maria's abdomen, but I could see his point. Accidents were prone to happen when you were tired. Couple this with emotions running high and you have an explosive combination.

Dresden had also, like the good leader he was, told us to talk with each other about what had happened, because it was too dangerous to not be unified at this point in time. It was vital for our survival that we trusted each other. We couldn't have us turning on each other at a time like this.

But it didn't matter how many times Maria was told this in the hours following the accident, she was not that keen on being around Michael. Especially not talking to him.

Michael had pulled away from the rest of the group after the group meeting with Dresden. During the scolding and admonishments he had been pale and silent. No angry retorts or huffs. Not even a single annoyed glare. He had taken it all in silence, merely mumbling a silent, "I'm sorry," when Dresden after a while had sharply asked him, "Michael, are you listening to me?".

His reactions made me uneasy. That feeling was shared by the majority of the group. While Dresden was talking, informing us of the importance of staying together and trusting each other, my eyes were not the only ones that more often than not drifted towards Michael. But his eyes had been stuck to some point in the middle of the floor in front of him, his back slumped forward in a sad curve, and his semi-long brown hair obscuring large parts of his facial profile.

Either Michael felt really bad about what had happened or he was just ignoring us. But I had a strong feeling in the pit of my stomach that he felt awful about what had happened.

Dresden had rounded off the meeting by informing us - again - about the underground compound where Command and his men were, and giving us some updates on what had happened there in the last couple of hours. Dresden barely had time to say, "Okay, that's it," before Michael was on his feet and practically out the door.

No one tried to stop him. He obviously needed to be alone.

Dresden had given Michael's hasty departure a long look before he silently had approached me and told me, with deep concern in his eyes, that I - "Especially you, Liz" - had to get some rest. Apparently, I didn't look well.

I didn't protest. I didn't feel well.

It was only the camp fire and the good mood missing when Maria, Alex, Max and I sat down in the far off corner of our sleeping area. Max borrowed blankets from others and made a soft bed for me. The act was so sweet that I wanted to roll my eyes at him because it felt a bit exaggerated. But I was too grateful and too exhausted. Instead I just smiled and gave him a light kiss.

Gingerly taking a seat on the makeshift bed, I felt every ache in my body now that the adrenaline of the most recent events had left me. Maria sat down next to me and with a weary smile in her direction, I laid down on my side, my head in her lap.

Max took a seat at my feet, lifting them and positioning them across his lap. Carefully, he removed my shoes and gently started rubbing my feet. Maria's fingers were in my hair and she seemed content at having me so close.

Surrounding by the people I love, my eyelids were feeling increasingly heavy. I was semi-aware of Alex sitting down in front of me, facing Max and Maria. The conversation lightly started up around me, but I was only partly conscious of it.

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