Finally when it looked like death would gracefully step in and finally stop this agony, they stopped. A different one came in, this one carrying a med kit. The concern on her face was hard to make out threw the blood that washed over his eyes as it trickled from his hair. At one point, she made eye contact with him. Why was she so different? She was urgently trying to fit his wounds. She stopped the bleeding as he tried to focus on her face. It was impossible; the pain that seared his nervous system demanded far too much attention to allow any sort of concentration. Why? Why was she being so kind? Was it possible that one of the cold blooded things was compassionate? Did she care on some level? How? It must be a trick. They are trying to trick me into trusting her. I can't. I won't! She is one of them, and they were going to kill him just like they did the other 11 men. He was dead, only problem was that these sick #!%@& had yet to have their fill of amusement. "Enemy" He managed to half whisper, half gurgle as the woman looked shocked as he spoke. She was fairly sure that he was not even aware of her presence, much less able to speak. "Enemy!" This time the whisper turned into a sharp growl. Luckily they were alone at this point. "I am not your enemy; I am trying to help you. There is a chance they will release you. I am sure the Obsidian Order would rather trade you back to your people for a few of their operatives then kill you. It took me 15 minutes to convince those blood lustful madmen to let me in here. They would have rather let you bleed to death." She explained slowly as she worked, a skeletal regenerator slowly rebuilding his right thumb. "It's a trick, you're a trick." He spat the words at her in disgust. She had to know that he was not going to buy into her 'helping hand' routine. He was tough, one of the toughest men she had ever seen. He did not become this tough by believing everything he was told. She continued to work, silently, as she gave him pain suppressants and rebuilt his bones, and closed his wounds. After another ten minutes or so, she seemed to have him well on the way to recovery, and he thought that maybe, just maybe she was what she said she was, not a trick at all.