"Holy shit, Roxy," Dirk frantically tried to stop the flow of blood by placing his hands over it. Dark red blotches still stained her shirt, "Shit, shit, shit... Roxy you gotta stay awake, alright? You're going to be fine." One of the shots had gotten her. The wound looked fatal.

"Dick – shit – Dirk," she gave him a weak smile, reaching a hand up to caress his face, "you aren't dumb. You know that its basically inevacule... inezicle... inevitable."

"Don't you dare fucking say that," he hissed, taking her hand in his own, "I spent way too much fucking time watching out for you, Roxy. You're not about to fucking quit on me now."

"You know how-" she began, breaking into a coughing fit half way through, "How I always aljooded... alcooted... alluded to us having kids?"

Tell you what, you stay alive and all give you all the fucking kids you want," Dirk tried, deperately, "It'll be a big fucking kid party. I promise."

"But I realised how totally fucked they would have been," she giggled, weakly, "having us as parents."

"We'll send them to live with Jane," Dirk offered, "She'll know how to show them love."

"All seven hundred of them?" Roxy joked, "Because that's how many I want."

"All seven hundred of them," Dirk confirmed, "Normal, happy children – all with your beautiful face."

"Aw," she mumbled, straining to keep her voice working, "You said I was bootifly... beautofill..." she trails off, her eyes fluttering closed and her body relaxing.

"Roxy..." Dirk shook her, increasing with intensity as she still didn't respond.

"Dirk! We've got quite a predicament in the hallways," Jake rushed into the room, "I held off those scoundrels as long as I could, but..." his voice trailed off as he saw Dirk hunched over Roxy's body, which lay motionless on the cold ground.

"She's dead, Jake," Dirk hissed, his hands turning into fists.

"Dirk, I..." he tried to offer some consolation.

"Shut it!" Dirk snapped, pounding his fist into the ground. Jake obeyed, slamming his mouth shut and watching Dirk slowly lace his arms under her back and legs, lifting her from the ground before turning back to him, his orange eyes – tinted red from tears no one could hear – the only sign that anything was wrong.

"Let's go," he commanded.

"You're bringing her with us?" Jake asked.

"I'm not leaving her behind," Dirk returned, simply.

"Rightly so," Jake understood, peering back into the hallway and looking in all directions before leading the way out, "Right-o, Champ! Let's get moving."