(Untitled)

[blueshifted]

The Combine razor train speeds along toward its destination, black metal gleaming in the sun like knife efficiently cutting through all the chaos of the world. Even from the outside, it looks evil. Deadly. Unearthly.

Inside, suspicions are confirmed; the spartan, narrow corridors are filled with all forms of munitions and turrets - the weapons of

Comments

[blueshifted]

There's a face--

a human face

--the eyes aren't glowing, they're swimming, stop that need to focus Marine the sea?

"Take me to the sea," he mumbles, dilated eyes moving as if trying to focus on Adrian and utterly failing. His pulse is fast, and his breathing is woefully uneven. Not too fast, or too slow. Just... uneven.

[remindmeof_me]

"Shit, sir, I would if I could, I really would, but I gotta say I got no fuckin' clue which way the ocean is from here." Shephard shakes his head ruefully and starts looking for lumps, bumps, or other signs of head injury. He's pretty sure he's smelling something weird on the man's breath, but compounding a drugging with a head injury's just fucked. "We'll get you out of here somehow, though, I promise."

[blueshifted]

His crown and forehead are more or less patchworks of bruises. The worst were healed, before, but that didn't stop the Combine from exacting more. Barney attempts to nod to the part of that he understood, but that causes everything to spin. He just ends up moaning instead.

[remindmeof_me]

"Fuck." Shephard shakes his head. "Hate to do this to you, Mr. Calhoun, but I gotta get you into a helicopter if we're gonna get out of here. If you lean on me, can you stand, or do we hafta find a way to carry you?"

By 'lean on me' he means 'slump like hell and put all your weight on me'. He doesn't expect any better than that to even be remotely possible.

[blueshifted]

Barney nods, vaguely--

"Just stop the swimming..."

--before struggling a little against his bonds. He's still tied up to a chair that's fallen sideways, so that's going to have to be taken care of first.

[remindmeof_me]

"I'll try," says Shephard, and crouches down to start cutting the ropes. Unlike some people he could mention, he wasn't deprived of his weaponry when he got punted to 2021, so he's got a combat knife to work with. "Just hold still for me, all right? You can do that? And don't shake your head, just talk if you can."

[blueshifted]

"Oh--kay," Barney manages, trying to control the shakes from the shit they gave him.

[remindmeof_me]

"I already puked enough for both of us today, sir," says Shephard. "All right, now, I got your hands, I'm gonna get your feet loose..."

[blueshifted]

"You said... you said you were a Marine?" Barney asks, slowly, remaining as still as possible.

[remindmeof_me]

"Yessir. The last one left. Hazardous Environment Combat Unit, bound out of Santego, Arizona, 'riginally." He's working through the cords around Barney's ankles carefully. "Dunno about now, so much."

[blueshifted]

Something...

Something should be clicking here but the thoughts are fleeing from his mind and he has to concentrate on still

So nothing is said except a faint grunt of acknowledgment.

[remindmeof_me]

"All right, one more... there we go." Shephard backs away, and stands up. "Can you feel your feet 'n hands, sir?"

[blueshifted]

"Yy-yeah," Barney murmurs, tossing his head to the side away from the

fire, fire

lightbulb.

[remindmeof_me]

"All right," says Shephard. "Let's get you on your feet, then. We're gonna git you out of here. Not that I have a fuckin' clue where we're goin' to."

[blueshifted]

Barney shifts around, unsteadily and painfully, into a kneeling position. He sits there for a second, breathing heavily, before moving to prop himself up further.

[remindmeof_me]

Shephard crouches down beside him to get an arm under Barney's. "Go ahead 'n lean on me," he says. "I'm not gonna drop you. Promise."