whoops, forgot to post this :P

"Come on Stanford! Wake up!" Despite all odds, Spinner refused to accept that his friend was dead. The shock suit's glow was enough proof that the Brit hadn't been gone for long; it still glowed softly and had yet to shut down—which was what the suit was programmed to do when its wearers vitals faded. That must mean he'd only been stone cold for a few minutes.

Spinner peeled open one of Stanford's eyes—it was dilated. His skin was cold, but not completely devoid of heat or color. He tried shaking his unconscious teammate awake again to no avail.

"Come on Stanford…" he muttered."Don't make me kiss you, man!"

At a loss of what else to do, he pinched Stanford's nose, pressed their lips together, and forced air down his throat. Then he pumped his heart, trying to get it beating again. He did this alternately for over three minutes before slumping over and moaning defeat, staring at the corpse before him. "Sorry Stan…" he muttered to no one. A long silence ensued.

"….Sorry…for what?"

Spinner jumped in shock. "You're alive!" Stanford had begun to breathe shallowly without him noticing. The Brit smiled grimly up at the cave ceiling.

"Oh come on now, don't underestimate royalty-" Here Stanford started coughing and trying to take in haggard breaths. His leg was mostly numb as was his torso, but trace amounts of pain clung to his wounds like the desert sand that coated them.

"Try to relax…or…I dunno! Don't swallow your tongue!" Spinner was at a loss of what to do; he knew basic CPR, but his medical knowledge took an abrupt stop there and scattered in random directions.

Eventually the coughing subsided and Stanford shifted uncomfortably in the wet sand below him. He looked up at Spinner.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the gunner asked in a scolding manner. It hurt to talk, but it was a relief to see a friendly face.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Spinner retorted.

"Uhm, bleeding to death, obviously."

"Wow, don't sugarcoat it, Stan." Spinner scowled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Formalities aside, you need medical help ASAP. Does your COM link work?"

Stanford wanted to answer, but his throat hurt from all the coughing and screaming he'd been doing lately, so he merely shook his head 'no' and hoped Spinner wouldn't notice his problem.

He didn't.

"Well, mine is a bit off too, I can't get it to broadcast a signal, and the links to the Hub and the rest of the team are down…maybe if I reroute this link…and disconnect that one…and now derive power from the temp regulator on my suit…" Spinner went on mumbling to himself and tinkering with the communicator on his wrist. He was so caught up in his work that he didn't notice the large purple vandal sneaking up behind him. Stanford's eyes widened in panic and he tried to warn Spinner, but could only make a sort of scared moaning noise.

"Hello, human," came Hatch's voice, tinted with glee. Spinner's blood ran cold and he spun around. "What do we have here? Prisoners trying to escape?"

"Uhmmm…er…" Spinner panicked. He couldn't let the vandal know he was attempting to send out a beacon in hopes of a rescue, so he did what any good tactician would do in a situation like this. Lie.

"We weren't trying to escape!" the gamer whispered, trying not to wake any more suspicious-by-nature vandals in the squad. "I was trying to help my teammatehere." Okay, so that part wasn't a lie.

He gestured to Stanford's broken body on the ground. The Brit was genuinely confused, but knew how to play along; he waved casually at Hatch with his good arm and grinned innocently.

"He's dying over here and all you guys do is sleep! Come on! Don't any of you know Hostage Courtesies 101?" Spinner bombarded Hatch with made-up garble,and the vandal was intrigued by the earth version of keeping prisoners—Spinner was intrigued by the words coming out of his own mouth.

"You have to take good care of your hostages! How else do you expect them to live?"

"I didn't know!" Hatch was now frightened that the wounded prisoner would die on his watch, and Kalus would have his exoskeleton for it. "What should I do?"

Spinner smiled to himself; the situation was now under his control, so long as no one else woke up.

"Well, first of all, we need water." Spinner glared at Hatch like an impatient teacher trying to instruct an utterly confused student. "You do have water, don't you?"

"There is a small reservoir in the very back of the cave; it's a bit muddy, but it's running water and little eels swim around in it."

"Good, now we need something to carry it in."

Hatch raised his claw. "I might have something!" He shuffled outside of the cave, grabbed a spare shield from the Fangore, and returned to the cave. "Will this work?"

"Yes, now lead me to the water!" He turned to look at Stanford. "Wait here buddy; I'll be back in a few."

Stanford gave him a look. "Yeah, because I'm totally going to get up and have myself a midnight stroll through the desert."

"Nobody likes a smartass, Stanford." Spinner grinned apologetically. "Seriously though, hang in there." He turned and followed Hatch into the deeper confines of the cave.

"Have a nice bath, mate?" Stanford grinned at the sight of water; his mouth was bone dry, his throat burned, and he knew he was dehydrated.

"You have no idea." Spinner shook his head like a dog and plopped down next to Stanford. Hatch followed with the water and placed the shield-basin on the ground, then sat a small distance away to observe the transaction.

"I just thought…um…maybe you should know, my shoulder is dislocated," Stanford said as Spinner moved to sit him up.

"Really? That sucks," Spinner muttered. "I guess we'll have to pop it back in or something…"

"What do you mean 'or something'?"

"I mean, hold still for a second; I've never relocated a shoulder before! But I saw Sherman do it once."

"That's reassuring and all but—ahh damn it!" Stanford winced in pain as Spinner moved him into a sitting position way too fast for the Brit's liking.

"Hatch!" The gamer yelled (but not too loudly). "I could use a hand over here!"

Hatch immediately obliged, and, as instructed by Spinner, held Stanford in a sitting position. The latter tried to focus on simply breathing as his wound began to crack open.

"Here, you should drink first." Spinner held up the makeshift basin to Stanford's lips. It took him a second to catch his breath, but as soon as he did, the gunner drank eagerly. The liquid was a shade of light yellow, it was full of sand and smelled of waste and dead fish.

And it was the most delicious water Stanford had ever tasted.

But as soon as it was there, it was gone."Don't drink it all at once, you'll throw it up. Trust me, it's not fun." Spinner set down the shield and grabbed Stanford's dislocated arm. "Now, the trick to this is that you have to relax. It'll pop in a lot smoother if you do."

"Easier said than done, mate." Stanford's body had involuntarily tensed up after the sudden movement, but he forced himself to relax. His body went limp, andSpinner slowly started rotating the arm just below the dislocation. It took multiple, painful tries, but eventually the shoulder popped back into place. Stanford managed to hold back a scream and settled for a small yelp instead. He tried to move his arm a bit, but it flared up with pain.

"Try not to move it too much." Spinner advised and fell back on his haunches.

"Thanks, Spin." Stanford felt himself become instantly tired. Spinner gave him more water and sighed.

"Don't thank me yet. Hatch, help me drag him over here." Spinner pointed to a patch of dry sand that wasn't soaked in blood and human waste.

"Oh…bugger…" Stanford bit his lip as they dragged him three feet to the left. The two (by Spinner's instruction) were careful to keep the cut from reopening toomuch, but his broken leg screamed out in pain.

He blacked out as they set him down.

Thank you Zemby for being my beta :)