It's just early enough that the sun lights up the sky but still hasn't risen. Central stands outside of the tent, stretching and generally moving to try and keep the cold of the morning off of him. He can hear rustling and quiet footfalls around him— the Reapers are waking up.
"Do you know how you did that psionic thing yesterday," he says quietly, just low enough that he alone can hear it, "or did it just… kind of happen?"
you were afraid, says the sweater. the not human was too close. and i wanted to do something. i needed to.
"We can figure out what it is and what triggers it once we're back home," he says. "I'd rather not need it again while we're out, since… you know. It's a 'reaction to danger' thing."
i am not even sure i can do it again soon.
"Even more reason to be extra careful." The end of the last word is caught in a yawn, and not for the first time (and not for the last) he wishes coffee was still readily accessible.
When Kelly and Peter wake, the three of them seek out the Reapers from the day before, finding them around a small firescarfing down what Central thinks might be Chrysalid legs; he isn't sure and to be honest he doesn't really want to be sure.
Shad offers them some; they decline, Kelly and Central as politely as they can, Peter makes a retching noise. Molly gets up and disappears into the tent behind her, only to re-emerge moments later carrying a bulging duffel bag. She drops it at Central's feet. He prods it with a foot.
"It won't bite," she says.
He squats next to the bag and opens it hesitantly. Good pieces of leather wear end up in his hands, not as good as what the Reapers use, but still useful; he thinks there might be extra gas masks in there as well. Central places the gear back into the duffel bag, zipping it up and handing it off to Peter, who grumbles, but takes it from him.
"Someone will cover you on the way out," says Shad.
Central looks to Kelly and Peter. "Let's move. Firebrand will be getting to the rendezvous site soon."
"We're not gonna eat?" asks Peter.
"When we get home," Kelly says, glancing at Central for confirmation; he nods. Peter looks displeased, but relents and gathers his things before following Central and Kelly out of the camp.
They're more than halfway to the rendezvous site, all the way out of Lost territory and into the wilderness, when Kelly, who's taken the lead, stops short and reaches for her shotgun.
Central follows her lead and goes for his weapon as well, eyes darting around the trees as he attempts to figure out what's got her alerted.
He doesn't see anything out of the ordinary; maybe she's just been spooked by a gust of wind or—
A gun goes off somewhere behind him, and he's dropping to the ground, pain radiating from his left thigh and burning burning burning. More gunfire answers from Kelly and Peter, as his assailant dodged behind trees and returns fire.
take me off, take me off!
"What?" He can hardly get the word out between his gritted teeth.
i can be a tourniquet! or a bandage! something!
Central squirms out of the sweater, yanking it over his head and off his body as he sits up from his splayed position on the grass. He wraps it about where his left leg meets the hip, where the wound is; he feels the sweater squeezing on its own as he ties the sleeves together and pulls them tight as he can.
He fumbles for his gun, finds it, gathers it up and staggers onto his feet. He looks around; Kelly and Peter have given chase, disappeared in the trees. He can hear their weapons going off, faintly see their forms running through the brush.
He stands there, glancing around at the woods that surround him. His gun is raised, and he strains his ears, listening for anything that isn't the rustle of leaves or the distant thunder of the soldiers' guns and feet.
If this is ADVENT, it's a really weird attack for them. Usually they don't just send one unit. Usually there's at least 3 of them, all together. If they're spread out, their comrades aren't that far away.
Unless this is a ploy to separate him from his fellows. He leans up against a tree, trying to put his weight on his uninjured leg. He can hear Kelly and Peter coming back towards him, the skitter of boots on leaf litter as something comes barreling—
He fires, one twice three times. The ADVENT trooper collapses onto the forest floor, yellow blood smearing the ground. Kelly and Peter come rushing up after it, panting and eyes wild.
Kelly prods at the corpse with her sword, finds it acceptable. Peter glances over his shoulder.
"Where there's one ADVENT there's usually more," Central says through his teeth. "Stay sharp."
They begin to walk again, faster now, ducking behind trees, pausing to listen listen listen, and wheeling around guns up at every gust of wind.
this is a lot of blood.
"It'll be fine, we're almost out of here," he says.
this is REALLY a lot of blood.
As if to punctuate its words, Central stumbles. He shakes his head, but that doesn't clear the dizziness.
you should probably stop moving.
He can feel his heart thudding in his chest. There's a bolt of panic from the sweater. you're not stopping!
"Of course I'm—"
ill MAKE you stop!
And quite all at once, he's dropping to his knees, and the world goes quiet around him. There's a sheen of purple, and when he lifts his head, he realizes the purple is around him. It's a sphere, and from the way Kelly and Peter are banging on it, it's not penetrable.
Central realizes with a half hearted start he's ok with that. He's so tired. He feels like he's going to throw up. But very slowly. Everything is moving so slowly.
oh, says the sweater. oh what is this. It sounds distraught.
"You don't know what this is?"
no! i just really wanted you to stop and then this happened and I don't know how to make it go away!
"It's ok," he says. "I think it's safe."
you're still bleeding!
"But a lot slower," he points out, and lets his shoulders drop. "And if there's anything else out there, I don't think they can get in here."
He reaches down and oh that is a lot of blood. The green fabric of the sweater is off color and soaked and damp when he presses his fingers into it; they come away sticky and red.
The sweater is making noises in his head like it's crying.
Kelly and Peter are standing next to the sphere, almost taking cover beside it. They look like they're arguing. Central feels something akin to bad, but it's like the emotion is behind a wall.
Everything feels behind a wall, emotionally, actually. He thinks he should feel scared. But he really just feels dizzy. And tired.
Some part of him knows this is bad. But most of him doesn't really care. It wants to lie down, most of him does.
that's a terrible idea!
"I know," he says in a mumble. "I won't. Isn't enough room in here to do that anyway."
Peter has taken off running toward where the rendezvous point is. Kelly remains by the sphere, staring in at him with worried eyes. Central tries to give her a smile, finds that when he does she just looks more worried.
She looks toward something he can't hear, a conflicted expression on her face. Then she crouches down and presses tight against the sphere. He recognizes this as a defensive maneuver.
There's something still out there.
please don't die.
"I'm not going to die," he says.
blood is supposed to be on the inside. and a lot of yours is on the outside. that's bad.
"Well, it's not good," he admits.
He really would like to lie down. He knows that's bad, but knowing doesn't stop him from wanting that. He feels the sweater trying to squeeze even closer than it already is on his leg.
talk to me talk to me don't fall asleep.
He hears something bounce off the sphere, a rapid fire staccato, and turns to see another ADVENT trooper taking shots at him from behind a tree. Kelly is in a half crouch, gun level, peering around the sphere at them. She aims, fires, misses.
"Do you think this'll hold?" he asks.
hold?
"If it gets hit enough, will it disappear, I mean," he says.
i don't know! i don't —
"It's ok."
it's not ok!
Kelly fires again as the trooper dashes closer, hits but doesn't kill. She switches to her sword and comes around the sphere, behind the trooper, swinging down and slicing. She stands panting over the body for a momen no t before hurrying back to the sphere and taking cover again.
She looks up at some sound he cannot hear. Central follows her gaze. A form is running toward them from the direction of the rendezvous point, turning into Peter as he bursts through the trees. He points up - the Skyranger flies low over the trees, underbelly open and ropes dangling down.
"Ok, now would be a good time to figure out how to make this thing go away," Central says.
im trying, im—
Just as suddenly as it appeared, the sphere rolls into itself and vanishes, and Central is able to grab at one of the ropes and be hefted alongside Kelly and Peter into the safety of the Skyranger.
The moment the ramp closes under them, Kelly rips the small first aid kit off the wall of the craft and hurried to Central, fumbling at the sweater.
"What did you do, sailor's knot this thing?" she says.
don't take me off!
"Stop," Central says, "leave it on. Flip up this part, to get at the wound." He lifts up the torso portion from where it covers him and she slaps his hands out of the way, applying first a adhesive bandage and then one that wraps around his leg.
She leans back, inspects her work. "It'll have to work," she says, and he hears fear behind the will in her voice.
"I don't plan on dying today," Central says.
"You better not!" she says.
yeah!
He would refute, but he's so tired. She helps him off the floor into one of the seats and sits beside him, one hand gripping his shoulder, digging her fingers into him every time she thinks he's started to nod off.
Peter, seated across from them, fidgets. "Is he gonna be ok?"
"If he's not, I'm going to reverse haunt him," Kelly says, and Central hears her voice catch.
"Really," he says, "I'm going to be fine."
"You're not allowed to make those kinds of predictions," she says.
she's right, the sweater says.
"She is not," he says with a whine that some part of him thinks is unbecoming, but the rest of him childishly thinks is very appropriate.
Kelly and Peter exchange looks. "She?" asks the former.
"You," he says. "Talking about you."
"To… who?"
He pulls at the collar of the sweater in answer. She frowns at him. "You've lost a lot more blood then I thought, then," she says. "Shit."
"Don't say that," he says.
"Stop talking," she answers. "Focus on not dying."
if you die im gonna reverse haunt you too!
He snorts. "I'd like to see that," he says, and is about to add something about how it would make a pretty funny ghost, but Kelly glares at him and makes a shushing motion, so he doesn't.
He must be slipping in and out of consciousness, because the next thing he really knows is he's in a bed, and his leg doesn't hurt anymore (he thinks it's numbed actually, which is something the GREMLINs can do, so a GREMLIN must have gotten to the wound at some point), and Shen is sitting at his bedside. ROV-R hovers at her shoulder.
It notices he's awake, and flies up to him, blinking its optics. He instinctively reaches up to pat it on the chassis. Satisfied, it returns to Shen's side. He looks over at her and she's frowning at him.
"What did you do?" she asks.
He frowns back. "I didn't do anything," he says. "Bastard snuck up on us and shot me."
"You did something to fuck up Firebrand's evac," she says, and her arms are crossed. "Kelly says it was something psionic, and that you did something psionic yesterday too! Are you a psion? And you never told us?"
"I'm not psionic!" It's more a yell then he intends. Softer, he says, "I don't know what happened. I genuinely don't."
why don't you tell her? she knows.
He looks around for the sweater, sees it draped on the back of the chair Shen's seated on. He shakes his head at it, but Shen interprets it as him shaking his head at her.
She opens her mouth, closes it, tries again: "Look, I don't really care what you did, just don't do it again."
"About that…"
Shen looks toward the voice, Central follows her gaze. Tygan is looking at them with a particular spark in his eyes. "Whatever Central managed to do down there, it slowed the pace of his blood loss. If it had not happened, he would not be with us now."
A pause. "Additionally, according to Kelly and Peter, the Psionic event yesterday prevented him from being bitten by one of those… things that roam the abandoned cities. This… ability, whatever it is, has essentially saved his life twice."
Shen furrows her brow. "Is Kelly psionic?" she asks finally.
Tygan shakes his head. "From what I understand, these instances solely originated from Central. No outside forces."
"Weird," says Shen. "I still don't like it."
"I'm not a expert on the genetic sequences that indicate psion ability," Tygan says, "but given some time I could run a few tests to determine if these were truly from you, Central."
"And if they're not?" asks Shen.
"Then we have quite the mystery on our hands," says Tygan.
you could tell them, says the sweater.
Central lets himself drop back into the bed and exhales. Tygan takes a glance at his vitals, seems pleased, and quietly exits.
Shen stands up, one hand resting on the guard rail of the bed, the other scrunching a handful of the sweater. "You really scared Kelly," she says. A pause. "You really scared me."
"I'm sorry," he says.
"Don't be sorry, just …" She shakes her head. "Try not to do it again. The 'getting yourself into trouble' bit, at least."
"You got it," he says.
She leaves then, tossing the sweater at him as she goes, ROV-R humming behind her. Central holds it to his chest and shuts his eyes, listens to the low ambience of the Avenger and the steady beep of the machine tracking his vitals.
not going to die?
"Not gonna die."
good.