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damned_city2014-01-06 07:44 pm
sixth_attack) wrote in damned_city2014-01-06 07:44 pm
Night 74: Night, Farwell
Who: Sechs, Marc
Where: Sector #4, Courthouse
Summary: Having met his demise in the underground coliseum, Sechs awakens to find himself severally injured but alive within the rebel city of Farwell. At last, after all the agonizing weeks he had experienced within the institute's walls, Sechs had finally escaped...
For an artificially born Replica, cloned from another and destined for disposal, living in the world for just a little over two years rarely gave one time to ponder questions regarding the afterlife. Sechs wasn't ignorant about death of course, having been acquainted with it many times as a thrill-seeking battle android. Yet he always escaped any true intimacy with it -- at least, that was until now.
The last choice Sechs thought he would ever make in his short life came so suddenly, so abruptly with little thought, he did not have time to fear what exactly it meant to die. He lost track of when it began, of when it ended. It was like falling asleep after a very long and difficult day, but with no recollection of getting into bed in the first place. All the pain and troubles drained away with the fleeting light into the endless abyss. Memories and faces which once flooded his vision slowly fell back behind a thick unseeing curtain. Sechs was free from his agony, but he was no longer conscious to grasp the peace which followed its absence. There was nothing left. It was over.
...
...But it wasn't over, was it? Something about this state of unconscious eternity was changing, like it was regaining awareness and a sense of time. That wasn't supposed to happen, right? Was this death? Or was this sleep?
The answer to that question came in the form of pain, an ache which grew with intensity while adding unbearable seconds to what was supposed to be a timeless existence. Sechs couldn't rest any longer, his awareness was forced to flounder in the pitch darkness until it broke through the thick surface of the subconscious. With an internal gasp he regained connection with his lost body.
Sechs woke up.
Opening his eyes for what felt like the first time in his existence, Sechs was met by a blurry palette of evening tones and architectural decay. He was on his back, laying on something soft in what appeared to be an expansive space, and the pain which wouldn't let him rest was emanating from his lower torso. He remained still, unable to believe his groggy senses. All Sechs could do was mutter the first thing that came to mind. "Dead... Am... Am I dead?"
Where: Sector #4, Courthouse
Summary: Having met his demise in the underground coliseum, Sechs awakens to find himself severally injured but alive within the rebel city of Farwell. At last, after all the agonizing weeks he had experienced within the institute's walls, Sechs had finally escaped...
For an artificially born Replica, cloned from another and destined for disposal, living in the world for just a little over two years rarely gave one time to ponder questions regarding the afterlife. Sechs wasn't ignorant about death of course, having been acquainted with it many times as a thrill-seeking battle android. Yet he always escaped any true intimacy with it -- at least, that was until now.
The last choice Sechs thought he would ever make in his short life came so suddenly, so abruptly with little thought, he did not have time to fear what exactly it meant to die. He lost track of when it began, of when it ended. It was like falling asleep after a very long and difficult day, but with no recollection of getting into bed in the first place. All the pain and troubles drained away with the fleeting light into the endless abyss. Memories and faces which once flooded his vision slowly fell back behind a thick unseeing curtain. Sechs was free from his agony, but he was no longer conscious to grasp the peace which followed its absence. There was nothing left. It was over.
...
...But it wasn't over, was it? Something about this state of unconscious eternity was changing, like it was regaining awareness and a sense of time. That wasn't supposed to happen, right? Was this death? Or was this sleep?
The answer to that question came in the form of pain, an ache which grew with intensity while adding unbearable seconds to what was supposed to be a timeless existence. Sechs couldn't rest any longer, his awareness was forced to flounder in the pitch darkness until it broke through the thick surface of the subconscious. With an internal gasp he regained connection with his lost body.
Sechs woke up.
Opening his eyes for what felt like the first time in his existence, Sechs was met by a blurry palette of evening tones and architectural decay. He was on his back, laying on something soft in what appeared to be an expansive space, and the pain which wouldn't let him rest was emanating from his lower torso. He remained still, unable to believe his groggy senses. All Sechs could do was mutter the first thing that came to mind. "Dead... Am... Am I dead?"
no subject
This was the first person they'd picked up in a while, sweeping in to collect the corpse from the morgue like they'd done with a few of the other patients already. Granted, Marc hadn't been able to go, as Landel had special eyes looking out for him, but at least he had some help these days. Capable people who were making things happen.
For once, things were looking up. They'd completely disabled the equipment needed for Special Counseling and had even set up a teleporter so that patients could more easily find their way to Farwell.
Sechs here, though... he'd done it the old-fashioned way.
At this point Marc figured the least he could do was explain things in person, and so he'd set himself up in the infirmary, a small lantern placed nearby so that he could at least read something while he waited. Sechs' voice drew him away from the text on the page and Marc craned his neck up, looking over at the prone form on one of the cots.
"Not quite," he said as he pushed up to his feet to step closer. "You were, though."
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"So... I did die then..." Sechs wearily replied, recalling a faint memory of his last battle. He couldn't remember the context of the fight, but he knew he had fought like the true warrior he always strove to be. That was enough to ease his nerves. He tried to chuckle, but it came out as a strained cough instead. "I didn't think I would ever get that experience and be able to tell the tale about it after..."
As Sechs' alertness slowly returned, the pain in his torso seemed to only worsen. Growing restless, Sechs gingerly lifted his head and shifted his arms back, attempting to sit up and inspect the source of the ache. Yet he only caught a quick glance at an assortment of bloody bandages covering his stomach before he was forced to lay back down with a pained grunt. Whatever his injury was, it clearly wasn't healed enough for him to move, never mind sit up.
Forced to stay down and shift his eyes back upwards, Sechs found his vision to be clearing, allowing him to see more than just blurred colors and shapes. He was in some sort of old building, but where exactly? His mind remained mostly blank when it came to memories, but at least he had someone around to answer his questions.
"Where am I anyways?" he asked. Sechs attempted to turn his head again, this time managing a brief glance at the man nearby until the light of the lantern stung his eyes. He didn't recognize the stranger's face, but something about him still seemed familiar. "Do... Do I know ya...?" he added, turning his head away to rest his tired eyes.
no subject
When Sechs tried to sit up, Marc hissed through his teeth, a sound borne from sympathy pain. He was crazy to be trying to move around right now. The last time a group of patients had woken up here injured and back from the dead, one of them had been able to heal himself and the others. But Sechs was on his own...
At least he had the brains to realize he needed to lay back down. Marc could easily handle the rest.
"You're in a place called Farwell. It's a city outside of Landel's, over the mountain range. It's where we rebels are holed up for the moment," he explained. And well, the next part was the most exciting bit, so he was grinning as he said it. "Me? The name's Marc."
In reality, there could be a whole range of responses to that, but he was hopeful.
no subject
Pondering this, Sechs closed his eyes tight until an image of a spiky-haired boy popped up from his recovering memories. Ah...! He first heard of the rebel city from Sora, that kid who died but returned to the institute! Sechs' eyes opened at this realization. He remembered he had Farwell as one of his goals after learning of it from Sora. Looks like he managed to find it sooner than he thought.
"So this is Farwell, huh?" Sechs said with a faint smirk. "I didn't think I'd make it here so soon. Figured I'd make it through that underground lake route I heard about. Guess I took the harder way instead..."
Sechs' mind was still in the process of rebooting, but the name Marc retrieved a few memories more quickly this time. Frowning, Sechs strained his head to get another look at the man beside him. "Marc...? Y'mean the radio guy?" Sechs asked before letting his head and eyes rest again. Something about the name made Sechs feel uncomfortably annoyed inside. Did Marc do something to piss him off before? Could he be trusted?
Damn...! Why was thinking being so much harder than usual? This was really starting to fluster him! Was it because he was just dead or whatever painkillers he may be on for that huge wound of his? Either way, Sechs took another moment to sort out his garbled emotions and memories. He eventually recalled being sent on what he thought to be wild goose chases by the radio man, then later seeing him as a traitor after Landel regained power from the military. Back then, Sechs didn't know who to trust and all the rumors of help from rebels had to be taken with a grain of salt for the sake of keeping one's hope.
For a second, Sechs felt the urge to snap at the man behind the lantern. He wanted to give Marc a piece of his mind for all that happened and didn't happen before. Angry questions flooded Sechs' head, demanding to be shouted and answered. He wanted to clobber the man behind the radio...!
...But he couldn't. Not only because of the pure exhaustion he felt, but the very fact that despite all the distrust and disappointments associated with the outside forces, Sechs could now finally see that there was truly a difference being made. For crying out loud! He was alive and outside of the institute at last! The rebel's efforts were finally working! Heck, last thing Sechs remembered was Landel yelling something about the rebels. That was before he and the others went to the basement...
Feeling his agitated distrust of Marc ease out of his system, Sechs' frown faded into a solemn grimace. "Just to let ya know right off the bat, I always had a tough time trusting ya," he warned, shooting Marc another glance as he spoke. "I wasn't sure if you and the rebels were really going to help us." Letting out another soft cough, Sechs added, "Heh, I wasn't exactly a fan of your occasional radio shows..."
Keeping his eyes fixed on the ceiling, Sechs fell silent for a moment. He gingerly moved his hand over the layers of gauze covering his stomach, feeling the moist hints of blood beneath his fingers. Whether he liked Marc or not, Sechs didn't have much of a choice when it came to trust, especially in his current condition. "But now that I'm here, I'm willing to start over with ya," he said with a gruff sigh. "For one thing, we can actually talk to each other now! I was getting tired of the whole one-way radio stuff!"
Turning his head, he then gave Marc a tired smirk. "And boy, do I have a crap load of questions for ya!"
no subject
When asked about his identity, Marc only nodded, waiting at the proverbial edge of his seat for some greater reaction. In the end, it was pretty muted, most likely because Sechs didn't have the energy to hold any strong feelings right now either way.
Marc was used to not being trusted, though, and he huffed out a laugh and held his hands up, placating.
"Believe me, I get it. Kind of hard to trust a shadowy voice, but it was the only option I had." Speaking of which, he'd been planning to make a transmission tonight, but that might be derailed by dealing with Sechs here.
Still, Sechs was willing to work with them, and that was what mattered. Marc grabbed for the chair he'd been sitting in and dragged it closer to the cot, sitting in it backwards. "All right, ask away. Just... make sure you take it easy when you do." Sechs' wounds were bad, and moving around too much could run the risk of him bleeding out.
no subject
Sechs couldn't help but appreciate Marc's new spot, he wouldn't have to strain his neck so much to see him now. Speaking of his neck and the spine it was part off...
Frowning in thought, Sechs moved his hand and tried to dig his fingers beneath his back to find the exit wound of his injury, but was forced to withdraw as he gave out another hiss of pain. Everything just plain hurt there, unlike how numb it was before Sechs lost consciousness. The last thing he remembered was losing any feeling below where his blade severed the lower half of his spine. Yet now Sechs recognized the sensation of his legs, the feeling of his pants against his skin. Just to make sure, Sechs attempted to test out his leg, managing a sluggish wiggle of his foot in the process. A soft sigh of relief escaped him. He wasn't permanently paralyzed then, that was good. As a cyborg, the loss of limbs wasn't a big deal due to how easy it was to replace them. But as a regular human, that wasn't so straight forward...
Yet while something that he thought he lost was back in his possession, something else was missing, but what? It was then that Sechs realized that it was dark, likely sometime in the evening. Shouldn't a certain voice be harassing him by now...?
"What... What time is it right now?" Sechs muttered as he focused on his spine. He felt cold there, as usual, but was it a normal temperature or was the sentient parasite still inside him? His question may seem humdrum to Marc, but it was something Sechs needed to know. The last thing he remembered of the drug was its deafening shrieks, just as he ran himself through his own blade to silence it for good...
no subject
He held back, though, relieved to see that Sechs was able to move his legs. When they'd brought his body back, the others had expressed concern that he wouldn't be able to walk, but it looked like he'd gotten lucky.
The question Sechs eventually came out with didn't make that much sense, but Marc just shrugged. "It's... a little after eleven PM."
He let out a small chuckle. "You know, we thought with the damage to your spine, you might be in pretty bad shape... which, well, let's just say it could have been a lot worse. Might be a while before you can walk around, though."
no subject
He then closed his eyes and narrowed his focus on his punctured spine. He could still sense the presence of an unnatural cold emanating against the rest of his body's warmth. Something was still huddled inside his vertebrae, coiling itself around his nerves like a snake -- yet it did not strike as it usually would.
Did this mean...?
At first Sechs wasn't sure how to feel about this piece of information, unsure whether to despair or rejoice over it. The dark personality of the toxin was silent, drained of its power and huddled deep inside the lowest section of Sechs' spine where it could not reach his mind. Had Sechs' final attack against his inner tormentor worked then? After all those weeks of living with the cruel parasite, its apparent death seemed too good to be true...
"Believe it or not, my spine was in even worse shape before," Sechs replied, opening his eyes to look at Marc. "Did any of ya ever get a look at my spine? Those six scars there aren't for decoration," he said with bitterness in his tone, carefully gesturing to his back with his hand. "Let's just say they're souvenirs given to me by one of Landel's employees, the ones who like to use prisoners as lab rats..."
Those six "souvenirs" were the result of when the sapient drug was forcefully injected into Sechs' vertebrae for purposes of "science". The faceless doctor behind the cruel concoction intended the poison to be the shadow of its host, a passenger forced upon the driver, a test to see who could outlast the other. For weeks Sechs was tormented by the drug, nearly losing his fight against it more than he would like to admit. It was an opportunistic hunter that fought for total control over Sechs, tormenting him with freezing pain and vexing hallucinations at every chance it got. Relief from its harsh symptoms came few and far between in the form of what opposed its dark negativity: light, warmth and friendship. Yet to truly rid of it became a faint dream which Sechs was forced to forget about. But now...
Now the drug was defeated. Sechs had won against its creator.
"Let's just say that doctor gave me some kind of poison with a mind of its own..." Sechs explained, no longer ashamed to speak of his condition now that the worst of it was over. "It made being trapped in the institute shittier than usual, if that's even possible. I didn't think I would ever be rid of it. It always kicked in at night. Hell, it should be giving me a lot of grief right now, but..."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Sechs felt truly victorious, his eyes lit up and a sincere smile curled his lips. "I won! I outlasted that sonovabitch doctor's little creation! I finally shut it up!" he exclaimed, unafraid to express his relief and pride despite the pain he was in. "Damn drug is still inside me, but at least it's quiet! If you ask me, that sure makes up for not being about to walk right now!"
no subject
As it turned out, though, he got an explanation anyway. Just as he'd suspected, those scars were a result of one of those CM-US sessions. Marc let out a low sigh and dragged his hand down his mouth. A lot of the patients had already been victim to that, and from the sound of it, Sechs' had been quite the doozy.
Marc couldn't really imagine what it was like to be injected with something that spoke to you. It didn't sound possible, but Landel's was all about trying out the bizarre and potentially dangerous, so he shouldn't really be surprised.
But somehow, the damage that was done to Sechs' spine during his death had actually helped to silence the voice, which was good news.
"Looks like there's a silver lining to all this, then," Marc said with a smile of his own. "We'll try to take care of you as best you can until you're healed up. We don't really have magic on our side, which means you're gonna have to do it the old-fashioned way," he said apologetically.
no subject
"If you guys are gonna take care of me, how 'bout getting something warm for my back?" Sechs said before realizing just how strange his request must have sounded. "Um, the drug pumped into my spine gets real cold at night and screws up my muscles," he hastily added, shifting sheepishly on the spot as he gestured with a slight nod to the side. "It's still doing that now and for once it would be nice if I could get something done about it. I couldn't get any heating pads from the nurses back at the institute. Best thing I could do was press my hand against my neck when the drug acted up..."
By then Sechs' alertness was mostly recovered, yet everything still felt oddly surreal to him. He was alive and outside of the institute, a concept which had begun to look hopeless just days ago. What felt even stranger was being in the care of someone who wasn't a nurse armed with needles who thought he was 'crazy'. Just asking for a heating pad for his back felt weird enough! Everything was going to be different now, something he was happy about nonetheless, but it made him somewhat wary as well. After being trapped at the institute for so long, he didn't realize just how habituated he was to life there until now! It was going to take some time for Sechs to get used to the new freedom Farwell had to offer.
Turning his thoughts elsewhere, Sechs' mind was just about done defragmenting itself, recovering more memories for him to wander over. Suddenly he felt himself mentally trip over a memory of Aigis' face just before the curtain of death passed over his vision. That lurid image jolted his heart, causing him to almost jump upright -- before flopping back down on the cot with a growl of pain.
"Crap! I- Ugh! I just remembered something!" he grunted, recoiling from the fresh batch of pain racking his torso. If he could, he would be kicking himself for making such a dumb move in the first place! He managed to keep talking nonetheless. "Is there a way I can contact anyone back at the institute? I was with two people before I... Well, y'know..." Now with another reason to be restless, Sechs glanced up to Marc with an imploring look in his eyes. "I gotta let 'em know that I'm ok!"
no subject
If Sechs' back really got that cold, then a heating pad should do the job in offering him some relief. Marc was going to have to go dig one out of the supply room. As for electricity, they obviously had enough to keep this place running. Marc saw to it that they saved energy as much as they could, but seeing how it was the middle of the night, most of the lights were off. Plugging in one heating pad shouldn't be a big deal.
He nodded and stood up out of his chair, ready to go in search of a heating pad, but that was when Sechs suddenly called out.
Marc's back straightened, instincts sending him into panic mode for a second before Sechs explained. Right, he was worried about his friends, the ones who'd seen him die...
"Well, normal transmission radios can't reach all the way back to the institute," he said uncertainly. "The only thing I can do is make a broadcast to all the radios, which means everyone would be hearing it. I could slip a message in there that you're all right, if that's what you want." Marc had been planning to make an announcement anyway, so it wouldn't be a big deal to add that tidbit of information to the end of his broadcast.
no subject
Yet Sechs still felt restless. Frowning, he fidgeted with the edge of the cot with his fingers as he pondered over his predicament. "Damn...! Even if they do know that I'm alive, I'm not ok with them being stuck in that damn institute while I'm over here!" he growled, returning his glare back to the ceiling, as though meaning to shoot his sour expression at Landel himself. "But I don't wanna go back only to get stuck there as a prisoner again!" he added, recalling Sora's sacrifice of freedom when he returned to the institute.
"Is there anything I can do to get 'em outta there?" he asked Marc, giving him a less furious glance. "For all we know, they may not last that much longer in that hell hole!" Sechs knew all too well of losing friends to unknown fates without warning...
no subject
Thankfully, Marc and his rebel group had foreseen that problem. The only other way had been going through the caverns, which was a mess all on its own from what Marc had heard. Which was why they'd decided to open up another way.
"Actually, there is something," he said, smirking the way someone did when they had a secret. Not that he held onto it for very long.
"A few of my people snuck in the other night. On top of sabotaging the equipment Landel uses to induce Special Counseling, we also set up a teleporter to bring people here to Farwell. I was going to mention that in my radio broadcast too."
So if Sechs' friends wanted to come and rough it out here, they would certainly be able to.
no subject
Sechs' eyes brightened once more from the news. "Really? That's great!" he laughed. "We're finally getting somewhere now! Hah! No wonder Landel was freaking out over the speakers the other night!" he said, thumping the edge of his cot with his fist. "Soon as I start walking again, I'm gonna help ya make Landel even more miserable! Just you wait!"
Yet Sechs' cheer dwindled away within moments. It was good that the last surviving prisoners had a chance at escape now, but what about those who aren't alive to be saved? If only the rebels had been able to make this much progress sooner... Maybe then some of the friends Sechs knew would still around. A few faces in particular came to mind; when he learned of their disappearance, the best way Sechs was able to cope with the loss was to hope that they hadn't died, but instead found a way out of the institute. If that were the case, maybe they were in Farwell?
"Hey, uh... Speaking of freeing everyone..." Sechs warily began, suddenly nervous about what sort of answer he may get for his question. "Is there anyone else from the institute here? I mean, uh, has anyone else died or disappeared and ended up here?" he asked.
Another face came to mind, one which Sechs had not seen in a long time except when she came to him as a "visitor". "And what about those living outside, people we know but they're brainwashed into thinking they're someone else?" he added. "I'm just wondering cuz... I knew a few people who disappeared, and someone I know from my home world is somewhere out there right now too..."
no subject
That was something he was trying to make up for now, and they were finally getting somewhere. It was good to hear that Sechs was on board -- once he'd healed, anyway.
"A few people have passed through here, though most of them have moved on by now. We've got Byrne here still, but Sora and Locke both headed back to the institute. Claude, Guy, and Anise also passed through, and we gave them something that should help disable Landel."
Those were all the recent arrivals. "Other than that? We've had a few. But the people who were brainwashed are lost to us for right now. Who are you looking for? I can let you know if I've seen them."
no subject
So far things didn't seem too promising when it came to finding his lost allies, but Sechs wasn't giving up yet. "Well, first off, I'm looking for someone named Alita. She's from the same world as I am," he explained. "She visited me one time awhile ago, but she wasn't herself at all. She insisted that her name was Yoko, and that I was her brother named Cody..." Sechs cringed inwardly from that memory. That visit was one of the cruelest jokes Landel had played on Sechs. At the time he thought he was going to be saved by Alita, but was confronted by an unsympathetic "Yoko" instead.
"When the military was in control of the institute, I got the impression from this General Berg guy that prisoners like Alita are brainwashed and living outside of the institute," Sechs said. Thinking he ought to give a description of his Original, (just in case) Sechs added, "I guess you could say she looks like my little sister, even though she isn't really... So let me know if you see her, alright?"
Now it was time for the question Sechs had been dreading to ask. He knew Alita was alive out there, but now his mind was on those whose fates weren't so clear. Thinking about his lost friends had been bothering him like a festering wound for some time now; it was an internal pain he avoided as much as he could, but sooner or later he would have to face it. "Everyone else I'm looking for... They were pals of mine back at the institute, but they disappeared..."
Sechs trailed off. For a moment he wanted to just drop the subject and bury his aching worries even further into the back of his mind. Yet he decided to go forward with his question and took in a deep breath. "Teisel, Admiral ZEX, Forte, Fai, Kibitoshin, Ritsuka and Utena... Do any of those names ring a bell for ya?" he finally asked. Turning his head away from Marc, he quietly added, "I gotta find 'em... They helped me a lot."
no subject
But as Sechs went ahead with his explanation, offering up physical descriptions and then a list of names, Marc found that he couldn't really help him. Most of them didn't ring a bell, save for one, and even then he didn't have any helpful news.
He let out a sigh, leaning against the doorway with his head bowed slightly. "Well, your friend Alita is definitely out in this world somewhere. Once Landel's disabled, she should snap out of it.
"The others are probably in the same situation, but I can't say for sure." Some of them may have been killed in the institute. He just didn't know. "I met Utena once, back when I first arrived in Doyleton, but I haven't seen her since then."
Sechs was just going to have to believe that they were all right, and that they would come back here once the brainwashing had been undone.
no subject
Despite his little laugh, Sechs was bracing himself for Marc's next answer. A deep part of him was convinced that the only news he would get about his friends would be the locations of their dead bodies. He didn't expect anything good, but a small part of him still hoped...
Yet to Sechs' relief, the answer he dreaded didn't come -- but it wasn't the good one he wanted either. "So there's still a chance of finding them alive then?" Sechs asked. He couldn't be so sure about Admiral ZEX though, he learned of his death through a bulletin post left by Zero. Yet Sechs himself had died but was alive now, so could the same be applied to ZEX and any other innocent victims who died in the institute?
Considering this, Sechs felt his nagging dread over the fate of his friends ease away. The inner wound was still there of course, but Marc's answer was like applying a fresh new bandage over the pain. There was no damning end for his lost allies. There was still hope.
It was then that another question wandered into Sechs' mind. It was something he had been wanting to ask the Radio man for quite some time, but never got the chance. "Hey... Y'know that note you talked about over the radios a couple of weeks ago?" Sechs questioned, "I found it with some other patients, but I got to keep it. It was about Lydia... I was supposed to protect that note, but..."
Sechs trailed off, recoiling from the shameful memory related to his discovery. He was supposed to be in his room that one night for Javert to come by and see the note. Yet Sechs was forced out beforehand to become an SC patient. The criticism he received from Javert afterwards still echoed in his head. Since then Sechs believed that his failure placed Lydia in danger -- or worse. Once again Sechs braced himself for a negative answer. He took in a breath and glanced at Marc. "Is Lydia alright?"
no subject
While he wished that he could give Sechs some more concrete answers about his friends, that was all he had. He wasn't even sure about the fates of those who died in the institute. He got the feeling that they were gone for good, or made into leftovers -- which he had no intention of bringing up right now, no sirree.
It looked like this little Q and A session wasn't over just yet, though. He hadn't expected Lydia to be brought up, and without even realizing it, a smile formed on his lips.
"You found that, huh? Well, don't worry too much about her. Lydia knows what she's doing. She's smart and she got away from that maniac. She's way off the grid now -- it wasn't safe for her to be here. I don't even know where she is, but I'm pretty confident she's just fine." Besides, she had Harrington with her.
Marc pushed off of the door frame and started to turn away. "Anyway, let me go grab that heating pad for you. I'll be right back." And with that, he disappeared into the dark hallway.
no subject
As he waited for Marc to return, Sechs felt a blanket of sleepiness fall upon him. Not wanting to strain his neck, he tried to stifle a yawn but comically failed. That's funny... He had been itching to jump back into action just a few minutes ago! Why was he suddenly so tired? Maybe all the exertion and excitement was too much for him right now? That, or it was whatever painkiller he was on that was putting a damper on his energy.
Either way, he felt satisfied with what he had learned so far from Marc. Like a beast having feasted on a big meal, he now felt the urge to take a power nap. He needed all the rest he could get to recover and kick some ass as soon as possible! Besides, it wasn't like he could do much with his injuries for the time being anyways...
With another sigh, the former android allowed his amber eyes to close. Already forgetting about his request for a heating pack, Sechs dozed off almost immediately. The only sign that he hadn't died while Marc was gone would be his soft snoring which followed shortly afterward...
no subject
Still, he eventually found it, which was good because Marc hadn't wanted to come back empty-handed. By the time he returned to the infirmary, though, Sechs was fast asleep.
It wasn't that much of a surprise. It was the middle of the night, and he was badly injured and on heavy pain medication. This was probably enough excitement for one night, and hopefully he'd feel at least a little better in the morning.
As carefully as he could, Marc reached out to roll Sechs over and then set the heating pad under him. Then he plugged it in and turned it on -- soon enough it should warm up and offer him some relief.
With that taken care of, all Marc had left to do tonight was that radio announcement. Considering this a job well done, he left Sechs to sleep and went to the broadcast room.