Drake noticed three things as his senses came back to him: first, he was lying on a bed, which he recognized as being from the Sulaco's sick bay.
Two, the pain in his temple decreased, to the point where it was just a distracting throb.
Three, Vasquez was standing by his side, covered in blood and with her knuckles wrapped in bandages.
"Vasquez?" his voice was painfully low, his eyelids shook as he scanned her carefully. She rolled her eyes, her impatience clear.
"No, the Easter bunny. Do you need glasses? Or would you prefer contact lens?" her tone was mocking, but he also notices the worry in her eyes as she gazed at him, while he chuckled softly.
"No, but if you got a playbunny costume you'd do a fine…" he gasped as she punched him on his stomach, not hard enough to be painful, but enough to make him exhale harshly .
"Shut up, pendejo." She is close to blushing, but somehow she can hold that, crosses her arms on front of her chest and watches him chuckle while trying to catch his breath.
His eyes widen, his face goes dead pale and he forces himself in a sitting position, looking dizzy from the quick action, as the recent events came back to his memory.
"Where's that son of a bitch?!" he tried to shout and get out of the bed, but failed both, ending up growling and being pushed back in the bed by Vasquez, whose patience was running thin.
"Use your head for once, estupido. How do you fuckin' think I got these?" she raised her hands to where he could see them clearly.
"Is he… Did he…" he stammers after a couple seconds of silence.
"He's dead, cabeza hueca. And you have got a lot of things to explain to me. Like, where the hell did you knew the guy from. And what did you do to him to make him hate you like he did?" she pointed an accusatory finger at him, the glaze in her eyes made him feel small as a bug that she could crush between her fingers, even though he's almost twice her size.
He sighed, mentally thanking Dietrich as she interrupted Vasquez from her desk, on the opposite side of the room.
"Hey Vasquez, why don't you go take a shower, hum? He needs to get a few minutes of rest and it looks like you got out of a slaughterhouse." She suggested, looking over the files she has spread on the metal desk.
Vasquez nodded, and turned to leave with a growl, looking over her shoulder to throw a "this is not over" kind of look to Drake, who laid his head on the hard pillow again, falling asleep almost at the same time.
Dietrich shook her head, and went back to her files, before she remembered that she was supposed to warn Vasquez that Flynn has said that he wanted to see the young private, as she ended to wrap her knuckles.
With a sigh, she jumped up and ran after the smartgunner.
