Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really, nothing, it's actually quite sad.


He opened his eyes slowly but it only took a fraction of a second for the adrenalin rush to start. This wasn't right, why was he so groggy and why was he having a hard time moving his limbs? "They drugged me," he thought "after everything that happened they drugged me. I should have just left them in that cave. Trying to rejoin the human race, see what that got you? As soon as this drug wears off I'm going to shiv both of them." They must have used a lot of the sedative because most regular doses really had no effect on him. As he lay there looking up at the wires and bent metal that made up the top of the skiff he wondered whose idea it was. Probably the holy man, he could tell he never fully trusted him, but the girl? He thought she actually liked him. "That was your first mistake, thinking someone likes you. She just wanted to get off that planet like everyone else and she knew you could do that. She just used you."

He decided he would kill the holy man first because the drug thing was his idea, then the girl next for going along with it. But what were they planning on doing? They couldn't pilot a ship as far as he knew and why didn't they check up on him to make sure the drug wasn't wearing off? He was actually glad they weren't checking on him because there was some feeling coming back into his left arm. He reached up to rub the top of his head and then let his hand rest on his face, all the while trying to will the rest of his body to move. It wasn't working. While he was thinking of the slowest way to kill the other two passengers he noticed something. "Wasn't there blood on the side of my face?" He rubbed the side of his forehead and his ear. Looking at his hand he saw nothing but the blood of those he killed. But that wasn't anything new; that had haunted him for years. No matter how hard he scrubbed it would never come off. As he lay there staring at his hand he also realized that his face must have also been cleaned because there was no dirt on his hand either. "They drugged me so they could wash my face? This doesn't make any sense."

He figured that the drug must still be affecting his thinking. He decided to lie there where they put him and let the drug wear off and then when they did come to check on him he would ghost them then. He put his arm back under the covers. "Covers - why would they care if I was cold?" Maybe they were trying to keep him alive for the bounty. "You really think these two would think they could get away with that? They wouldn't be that stupid." As he put his hand down by his side he felt the skin of his leg. That wasn't surprising since he could remember the struggle with the creature and the gash in his leg. Then he felt something else. Where the wound used to be was material. It was soft and fluffy, like a towel. He felt around the gauze and could tell they put it on his leg to stay; they used a lot of tape around the edges. He realized that they didn't drug him to keep themselves safe; they drugged him because they knew he would refuse their help. "I'm still going to kill them; I didn't ask them to help me. They had no right to drug me."