[it has been a long time since he's opened his eyes and understood where he was. Through the delirium, he wakes and finds himself staring up at the familiar ceiling of his vacant apartment room in town. No laboratory. No disordered sensations that accompany experimentation and captivity. ...No, he's actually awake. It's a hard fact to take in, at
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You shouldn't be out here if you're sick. [Even if that help comes in the form of stating the obvious.]
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I'm not sick.
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You shouldn't be out here when you're that drugged, either. [She's careful not to let on just what she's heard about this man. Making herself a target isn't on her to do list.] You've got a terrible hangover coming.
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[a lightheaded laugh, almost a giggle, as if this just entertains the hell out of him, despite the bit of impotent anger twisting into his features]
I learn something new every day.
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I can take you to the clinic. Or to get some coffee. It might sober you up.
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[if he heard the rest of what she said, he doesn't respond to it, bringing a hand to his head while he tries in vain to count the days that he clearly remembers]
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[But this guy has drifted into la la land, and Amelia frowns as she snaps her fingers in front of his face to try and get him back.] Hey. Hey! Don't zone out on me.
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What do you want?
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[She does let out an exasperated sigh at the question, though.] How about to make sure you don't pass out in the rain? You really should go inside if nothing else.
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Go inside and do what? I haven't done anything to earn rest.
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People don't need to earn rest. And even if they did, I'd say you've suffered enough to have paid your dues.
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[he might find this one genuinely funny. Either way, he's back to chuckling about it. What gives you that impression, Amelia? Is it the staggering, the helpless laughter? Maybe it's the gloomy rain, or the missing arm?]
What a foolish thing to say.
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[All of the above, meshed together in the person standing in front of her. Every instinct she's got is not only saying that this is a lost cause, but it'd be borderline foolish to keep going--even dangerous.]
Do you really want to be out here that badly?
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[but wrapping him mind around how to begin explaining what he means just doesn't work out. So, his delirious attention easily floats away to her other question. He manages to stop laughing for this one]
No, I don't.
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[But maybe there's something she can work with in terms of the second answer.] Then stop being stupid about it and come with me. [She hesitates then, however, considering the state the man's in. Unfortunately, it doesn't leave her with many options.] I guess you can lean on me if you need to, so long as you keep your hands to yourself and don't touch me.
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[the thought strikes him as funny, again, but at least the laugh is short this time. Through the drugged haze, he can tell that his ribs are hurting from just how funny he's finding everything. He wonders briefly if he'll bruise or crack a rib by the end of it, if he keeps this up.]
And... just where is it that you think I should go? [but he's setting himself into motion anyway and stumbling a step closer]
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