Once Jack had his fill of crépes and tea, he yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"He looks sleepy," Mark whispered to Amy, "Shall I get him back to his little nest?"

"Cha," Amy murmured, "Resting will help him heal." Mark nodded and let his hand approach the human cautiously.

"Hey líten häna," he coaxed in a soft voice, "Time for bed." Jack was too tired to even bother reacting as the giant's fingers engulfed him. Mark carefully scooped their small patient up and carried him back to the bundle of furs they had made for him. Jack's head was drooping as he yawned again, and when Mark set him down in the soft fur he was too tired to even curl up. But Mark nudged the human's legs into the comfortable position he had seen Jack sleeping in, and then he pulled up a corner of the animal skin up to his shoulders. Jack's opened his eyes a little as the fur and warm skin brushed his shoulders, and he looked up with a distant gaze as Mark turned away.

"I'm going to go and get some more details from Tyler." When the warrior left, it seemed the last of Jack's strength had left him. With an exhausted sigh, he closed his eyes and sank into the plush covers, and fell asleep within seconds.

Jack looked around the room with wide eyes. "Signe?" He yelled. He strained his hearing and heard her familiar voice.

"Sean!" Jack turned and ran out of the room. He had to go down a corridor and turn a corner before he came across his worst nightmare. She was being dragged off by two guards, and in front of them was Damien, the ambassador of America.

"Signe!!!" He lunged for her. One of the guards behind them blocked him. "Signe!!" He screamed, trying to push past. Damien stopped and turned around. His eyes narrowed when he recognized Jack.

"McLoughlin," he said in a low voice.

"Damien! Stop, please!" Jack begged. Guards quickly assembled and held him in place when he tried to go to the American. "She-she's not sick with the virus! It's just a cold! Please! Just let it show you for itself."

"We can't take risks!" Damien snapped, "Now pipe down, this is your final warning."

"No!!!" Jack squirmed and tried to reach Signe, who was trying to get a final glimpse of him. "Let go of her!" He strained against the hands that held him back. "You son of a bitch!" He screamed. "Let me go!! Don't hurt her! SIGNE!!"

"Sean!" The woman shrieked before she was whisked out of sight. Jack yelled and was fighting to go after them, to save her. Someone shoved their elbow in his stomach, forcing the Irishman to fall to his knees and double over.

"I warned you, Jack," The man in charge threatened, "I told you to stop fighting against the rules. They're not just here for you to break! They're here to protect us all. And she has to go, so accept it!" He jerked his head at the two guards restraining Jack. "Take him to the brig. I've had enough of him." Jack didn't struggle when they hauled him up and dragged him away. He didn't even try to walk on his own. He closed his eyes and sobbed, shutting out the bewildered glances he got from passing by civilians.

I can't believe it. Just like that, she's gone. Hot, steamy tears full with grief dripped down his cheeks. One of the guards put their hand on one of the scanners and opened the thick door, and Jack was thrown into the small room.

"Enjoy your stay," the other guard said with a mock tone. The door sealed shut, leaving Jack alone with only a window the size of a hand. He lay there, curled up on the floor, overwhelmed with guilt and engulfed by tragedy. She didn't deserve this! It's not her fault! Jack was so choked up he could hardly breathe. She doesn't deserve to be Quarantined!

Jack didn't get up for a while. He lost track of time very quickly, isolated in his sorrow. His eyes got dry of tears, but he still didn't get up. He remained curled up on the floor, miserable and heartbroken. He spiraled in and out of consciousness, sometimes aware of the cold pathetic room he was jailed in, and sometimes he could only see Signe or darkness. Signe... His heart ached with anguish.

It was only when his door opened and someone walked in that Jack finally moved. He looked up and saw a familiar face, one that he always saw when he was having trouble.

"I'm really sorry about what happened, Jack." Jack sniffed and slowly sat up. His muscles ached from sitting still for so long. "But she was sick," the Swedish officer reasoned, crouching down to sit by him. "He was just doing his job and trying to protect the rest of us." Jack smothered a sob and bit his lip.

"... F-Felix..."

"I'm going to try to talk to him." Felix grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it, trying to be comforting. "He can't keep you in here forever. There's gotta be someway I can bail you out."

"Felix." Jack sniffled and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "H-he can't. I broke the rules." He hung his head. "It's my fault," he whispered. "And there's nothing left for me out there."

"No it isn't." Felix shook his head and sighed. "It's all our faults. If we hadn't ruined the Earth..." He trailed off. Jack hugged his knees and put his head down as the silence settled over them. Felix stayed by him, which Jack was grateful for.

He let his cheek rest on his knee caps and looked at the open doorway. There were two more soldiers standing guard outside. Jack scowled. He was angry, but he wasn't stupid. Felix suddenly scooted closer and pulled Jack into a hug. Jack felt his frustration sputter out and turn back into grief. He buried his face in his friend's shoulder, muttering a word of thanks.

"Felix Kjellberg, report to C-385," the voice on the comms suddenly said gruffly. Felix sighed.

"It's ok." Jack scooted to the far wall. "Go," he urged. "Wouldn't want Damien pissed off at the both of us." Felix grinned.

"Yeah," he chuckled dryly. He stood. "I'll come by when I can." And he left. The door shut behind him, sealing Jack in isolation once more. Jack sighed and let his shoulders slump. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't gotten any food in a while. But he had no appetite. Jack let his head rest back on the wall and sighed.

"... I know I've never really been a-a religious type," he suddenly started saying. His voice was quiet as he struggled for words. "And... it's been a long time, since-since anyone has had the hope to pray. But..." He closed his eyes, scrunching his countenance up. "If there is a god out there, listening, then please." He started to sob. "Please give me a way. Signe didn't deserve this." He frowned and felt his chest for something. His hand found it quickly: his necklace, the one Signe had given him for his birthday. He clutched it in his fist tightly, not ever wanting to let go of the small feline shape, and he felt a tear slip down his cheek.

"Please give me a way to save her," he whispered.

When Mark finally returned to the healer's tent, the moon was high up in the sky with its light weakly piercing the thick stormy clouds that covered it. He quietly entered the tent and saw Amy asleep in her bed. He smiled softly. Good. But when he turned to check on Jack, his smile dropped to a concerned frown. The human looked tense. He slept with an anxious frown carved on his countenance, and he clutched what served as a pillow quite tightly. Mark crouched and watched as the tiny man stirred uneasily in his dreams.

Poor creature. Jack restlessly shifted, accidentally sliding the covers off as he started to whimper. Mark reached to put them back on when Jack's eyes suddenly flew open, and he abruptly sat up with a sharp gasp. Mark's eyes widened, and he pulled his hand back and watched as the small human gulped rapid breaths of air and looked around with wide, panicked eyes. The poor thing, he looks so scared. Mark attempted to console Jack.

"Shh... It's okay... Câlmé, líten häna, calm down..." But when Jack noticed the giant's hand approaching, he cried out and kicked away desperately. His adrenaline-pumped mind kept flashing back to pure darkness with cold, twinkling lights, and hellish flames threatening hungrily at the edge of his vision. Mark pulled away, mystified by the human's sporadic behavior. The bad spirits must have been plaguing his dreamwalk. But he needs to sleep...

"It's all right," he tried again, "You're safe now." But he didn't try to move closer. He put his hand down at the edge of the furry blankets, and though Jack flinched a little, he did not panickedly pull away again. "You were just in a bad realm of the dream world. It was just a bad dream." Jack did not meet his gaze. He sat there, hunched up and trembling, as Mark tried to soothe him. Mark frowned. There must be some way I can calm him down. Then an idea came to him, and he tried softly humming a song he remembered his mother often singing a long time ago.

Jack stiffened. The tune itself felt haunting and mystifying, but it didn't feel alien. It almost sounded like an old Celtic song he remembered from his childhood, but he couldn't tell whether his adrenaline-pumped mind was trying to jump the shark or not. Nevertheless, the same effect was reached. He felt his heart behind to calm, and his eyelids started to grow heavy as he let the hummed lullaby wash over him.

Mark smiled a little as he saw Jack's breathing slow. The small man's little chest didn't bob as violently, and his eyelids drooped with sedated tire. It's working. He kept humming as he slid his hand closer and carefully cupped it around the human. Jack stirred with a small noise and shifted his weight, but his adrenaline had ebbed away by now. He yawned as the gargantuan warrior held his breath and slowly touched Jack's back, and he gently rubbed his spine with two fingers. He felt the intricate muscles stiffen under his touch at first, but then the tension melted away as Jack slumped and let out a tired murmur, too sleepy to contradict. Mark hummed a little longer, and then he sighed in relief as Jack rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted.

"Come on then." Mark gently nudged the dazed human. "Try to sleep again," he murmured. "Your wounds need to heal." Jack slumped against the furs and closed his eyes, and Mark pulled the soft covers over him again. Within seconds, Jack was lightly snoring, back asleep. Good. He's resting now. Mark sat back and crossed his legs, watching the alien rest as he once again wondered with awe where this strange creature had come from.

"He's still asleep?" Amy studied the sleeping Jack incredulously. "And I thought you dreamwalked hard." Mark chuckled a little, but he continued gathering up their belongings.

"He had a rough night," he replied, "Bad dreams."

"Well, he needs to rest a lot if he wants to walk again anyway." Amy stood and resumed packing her herbs.

"Didn't he already walk though?"

"Determinated adrenaline rush," Amy said matter-of-factly, "When he saw us, he must have thought we were going to hurt him, so he tried to run away; pure instincts."

"Ah." Mark nodded and wrapped a cloak around her shoulders. "Here."

"Thank you." She nuzzled his chin gratefully and did the fastening. "I don't think he'll be able to walk for a while anyway," she continued. "It's miraculous enough that he can still move."

"Determination," Mark echoed with a small grin. Amy nodded.

"Guess so," she agreed with a small laugh. Then someone knocked on the wooden pole at the tent's entrance.

"Hey!" It was Ethan outside. "You guys almost ready?" He asked cheerfully.

"Yeah!" Mark looked over at Jack again. "How will we take him with us?" He whispered.

"I have an idea." Amy picked up a small pouch with a long strap that wrapped around from one side to the other. "I thought this up before going to bed last night. Carry him in this, and he can stay warm. The fur will stave off the cold, and so will your body's warmth."

"Amy, that's brilliant!" He kissed her and slung the pouch on over one shoulder. It rested comfortably against his chest. Amy carefully scooped up their patient, covers and all, and slipped him inside the pouch.

"That should hold even against the Frösting." She buckled the fastening and stepped back to admire her handiwork. She nodded approvingly. "It'll do." Mark glanced at the pouch. Tiny and hidden away, resting inside was that strange little creature that he had been looking after for what in Earth terms was called a week. He let his hand rest above the pouch and just briefly touched the skin, feeling the diminutive figure wrapped in seclusion.

"Thanks Amy," he said quietly. Amy nodded and turned to pack up the last of their things.

"Hey, Ethan!" She shouldered out of the tent with the heavy bundles. "You still there? Good, can you help me load this up? Mark's getting ready still." Mark looked to his right and saw his coat. He took it and slipped it around his shoulders, wearing it as a cloak. Hopefully I'll be enough to keep him warm.

When he finally left the barren tent and worked on taking it down, Ethan came back over to help him. "What's with the necklace?" He asked playfully. Mark felt a tremor of guilty fear run through him.

"Oh, nothing. It's just something Amy made for me."

"Aww! A gift?" Ethan asked excitedly. "That's so sweet." Mark felt his cheeks reddening and simply nodded, too embarrassed to say more. "You're so lucky," Ethan went on cheerfully, not noticing Mark's flustered reaction. "I mean, Kathryn made me one once, but she's just a friend, you know? It was, uh..." He tried to wrack his brain for the correct word.

"Familial?" Mark offered. "Camaraderie?"

"Yeah, sure. That." Ethan shrugged. "Whatever, you know what I mean." Mark looked out to the foresty horizon. The sun was young, but cloudy snow hid its circular shape, and the whiteness expanded from the ground and into the beyond. It was going to be a long journey.

"Indeed I do," He murmured.