Rocket focused, he was feeling weird ever since they left the mine. That heat was killing him…
Daemon had given him the bottle, which he was carrying by a string crossing his shoulder all the way down to his hips. He grabbed it many times as they walked to take swigs, and Daemon obviously noticed he was drinking too much water, but his throat was still feeling awfully dry.
"Stupid suns" – He thought.
He was surprised when a hand forced him down, and tried to protest but Daemon called his attention to something ahead. It was some kind of beast with a camouflage or invisibility, but could be visible if one was paying attention. He thought it was strange; his eyes were very good to see details or things concealed to most of people.
So why didn't he notice the big feral creature?
He let it go as the animal slowly walked away and stood up, still feeling a bit dizzy. As he remembered Daemon pushed him down, he got angry and argued, and was surprised that Daemon reacted for the first time.
He would probably continue the discussion, but his head was hurting and he was feeling hot, therefore Rocket just followed, letting Daemon lead this time.
His movements started becoming mechanic, his breath speeding up uncontrollably… He looked at his hands and noticed they were shaking, or was just his vision? He couldn't tell... The Raccoon looked at his feet a blurry and unfocused vision.
"Left… Right…"
He captured the rhythm and followed it, but the words were lost inside his mind…
"Right… Right…"
He heard a sound that looked like his name, but he couldn't tell what it really was. He lifted his head and looked forward… He saw someone standing there, like he was waiting for him… Yet his eyes were so heavy…
Rocket lost his senses for a brief time. One moment he was looking at a deep forest with someone in front of him and in the other he was staring at the sky… Clean, with two suns in each side…
His eyes were slowly closing and his vision getting darker. For a brief moment his eyelid was forced open and a bright white light put above it. Was there someone saying something? He could hear a faint sound… Everything felt uncomfortable… All he wanted was to rest... What was could be wrong about that? His consciousness dove into a relaxed state, as he fell in a peaceful sleep.
But not for long…
Nightmares slowly came up to him. Flooding his mind with morbid pictures and memories he wish he didn't had…
He was inside a cage... It felt cold and extremely painful.
He was strapped in an operation table, muzzled. White coated scientists slicing every centimeter of his body with a grin on their faces.
Underwater… Or was it some kind of life-fluid? He was wearing a mask that pumped oxygen to his lungs… It felt horrible. He looked down and saw cables sticking out from the implants on his chests. As he moved, he felt more on his back…
"Vermin."
"Forget the anesthetics. We need to monitor brain activity."
"Struggling is pointless; you'll never leave this place."
"Ever…"
That wasn't truth, he had escaped… Why was he there then? How did he go back? What had happened? He couldn't remember anything, pain and despair was all he knew…
He was alone…
Rocket woke coughing really hard.
He tried standing up but his spasms were not letting him. A hand was placed in his back and helped him sit. As he slowly started regaining his consciousness he noticed a bottle being held in front of him.
"Here"
Rocket took it and drank all of it, dripping large quantities in his jumpsuit… As his vision returned slightly he saw Daemon looking at him worriedly.
"Wha' happened?" – Rocket asked
The answer came pretty fast: "You fainted, fell to the ground while we were walking."
Rocket growled as he noticed both his head and heart were pounding at the same rhythm; He was still feeling nauseous.
"I think I'm about to throw up…"
"You did already. Twice, actually."
Daemon noticed the Guardian was trying to held strong, but his state wasn't being his best ally.
"Stupid heat…"
"Rocket, I don't think it's the heat…"
The Raccoon looked at him slowly with tight eyes as they were hurting too.
"What'ya mean?"
"Let me see your wound." – He started unfolding the bandages and Rocket was about to say something, but Daemon raised a hand.
"I'll do it."
As the last of the bandages and the splint fell, Daemon analyzed the wound and frowned. It had acquired a greenish pattern and was slightly swollen. Dry blood mixed with Rocket's fur.
He touched some parts on his knee to check if the bone was still in the right place, which made Rocket whimper slightly.
"You caught some kind of pathogen. It's causing all the symptoms you've been having. And the state of your leg isn't helping, considering it's probably going to infect soon… As for your bone, it seems to be doing fine by now. The hole it ripped isn't too large; you'll probably not need stitches."
"That's some good news" – Said adopting a sarcastic tone – "But… A Pathogen…?"
"Disease, sickness, viral agent…"
"I know wha' it is smart-ass, I just want to know where did it came from and how the heck It's using my body as a Sunday ride."
"I could probably detect and neutralize it easily, but I don't have the proper equipment to do so." – He looked around meaning the forest wasn't the best place to be making vaccines or cures – "You'll have to hang on until we reach the Milano."
"Awesome, things couldn't get any better…"
Daemon pointed at his right. – "I found a pond while you were unconscious, we should probably drink as much water as we can, fill the canteen and keep moving on."
Rocket grumped. The last thing he wanted right now was to move, but he didn't say anything. He watched as Daemon grabbed another bandage from the inner pockets of his coat and started unfolding them, but stopped. He extended it to Rocket.
"I… uh. You can do it if you want to, I know you feel uncomfortable."
"Damn hell I do, gimme' this." – He finished unfolding it and grabbed the stick, pressing it against his leg.
The Raccoon tried a few times to wrap his leg with the bandage, but his arms felt numb and weak, and either the stick wasn't properly secured or he couldn't go around his leg with one hand only.
Daemon held the stick and noticed the Guardian was about to protest, but he shook his head.
"Let's work together then, hold the stick and I'll roll the bandage."
Rocket bragged, but he held the stick while Daemon skillfully rolled it out a few times before finishing it with a tight knot. After that he stood up and kept looking at Rocket.
"Wha'? If ya' expecting a 'thank you' you might as well sit again."
"I wasn't. I was just waiting you lift that lazy tail of yours and start walking"
Rocket looked at him ready to return the provocation, but he was smiling.
"I'm joking, let's go." – He turned and started walking.
Rocket slowly stood up, seeing if his legs could support his weight and they did. He started following Daemon through the woods, still a bit nauseous and staggering.
They cut through the deep forest, Daemon often stopping to wait for Rocket as he had slowed considerably. Daemon was picking up symptoms as they walked. The Raccoon's breath was fast and heavy, dry mouth probably, varying body temperatures… Whatever it was, the disease could get worst, the first symptoms usually are the weakest so that means the faster they reached the Milano, the best…
Rocket at least seemed to be dealing with pretty well. Despite his weakened state, the Guardian was way worse than he looked like, but he kept going…
"You've ever been sick like that before?" – Daemon asked without turning his back as they kept walking.
"Wha'?" – The Raccoon coughed
"Sick. You. Been before?"
"Ya' know, I hated you least when you weren't playing fun on me, just wait till' I get better and I'll teach you a lesson, Doc."
Daemon left out a soft chuckle.
"I'll keep that in mind, but you still haven't answered the question."
"I seriously can't believe this guy is playing smart on me" – Rocket thought
"No, I haven't."
Daemon turned
"As I said, I'm no psychologist… But even I can tell you're lying. C'mon."
"Ugh, what's with it anyway? Why the sudden interest?" – The Raccoon took the lead and Daemon followed.
"We're stuck with each other for at least a couple days; I'm just trying to keep the conversation going."
"Mah' head is pounding and my leg is hurting more than getting hit again and again by a plasma repeater. So I find it quite harsh to focus on anything but walking and drinking water right now."
"I'll respect that then, but tell me if you want to resume this anytime."
"Don't wait for it."
He waited and 10 minutes later of walking, Rocket asked:
"Have YOU ever been sick?"
Daemon wasn't really ready, so the question got him a bit off the guard. He quickly recovered.
"Yeah, sometimes… It's been a lot of years though…"
"Years, huh? I though you Terrans would get sick more often…"
"We usually do, especially when talking about viruses outside from Terra. The thing is I've been injecting myself with every cure or vaccine along the years and my body has built a protection, which categorizes my immunity to most of poisons or substances."
"Pretty interesting, I was starting to think you were just one hell of a lucky son of a bitch."
"I suppose I might be sometimes…"
"If that's the case then let me borrow some of it, I'll probably need it considering I got one fucked up leg and the last person I'd want in my company right now."
"At least your state hasn't brought your mood down. That's a plus for me."
"You bet it didn't jackass."
They've walked a little bit more until Rocket stopped to regain his breath.
Daemon noticed and stopped too.
"Let's take a rest, we're both exhausted."
Rocket didn't say anything; he just turned to lean his back against a tree bark, sliding to the ground and stretching his legs forward.
"Nightfall is coming fast; it'll get cold without the suns. I'll grab some wood to make a fire, try to get some rest."
"I'm fine, stop treating me like I'm some invalid guy."
"I'm not, I'm just telling you to rest. I'll be back in a moment."
Rocket watched as Daemon dived into the woods disappearing shortly.
He closed his eyes for a bit, trying to focus on anything but the pounding and the unceasing pain coming from his leg. He tried to put his thoughts in place for the day. Daemon had been acting differently since he had the rage attack, and Rocket didn't understand it. Why was he caring so much about him while he was being as ruthless as he could? Damn it, the fucker was annoyingly unpredictable…
Rocket's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a stick breaking; His ears started moving up and down trying to notice anything uncommon.
"Pierce, I swear if you try to scare me I'll shove my pistols up your a…"
As Rocket watched, a shade slowly took form into claws, legs and then fangs as a beast-like creature was looking at him with tight eyes.
Predator eyes…
Hey, sorry about the relatively short chapter, I couldn't think of any better things to write while they were walking in the woods. I think I'll be finishing the story in about 3 -4 chapters, so stay tuned :D