Live and Learn

It's strange. He can remember seeing his blood over the ground without any emotional baggage at all. Perhaps that's just shock.

Ryan smells a lot like sweaty tired person, which is yet another mark on the irritating list. Deitmar doesn't have a lot of options, so he waits, trying to figure out what else. There's the magnified smell of Arklay, a hint of the nauseating reek of zombies. There's something soothing that, if he thinks carefully, is a recently fired gun, and like something pleasantly coppery that puts Deitmar in mind of, well. . . the pattern on the carpet.

Neither of those should have a calming effect.

"I think," he says carefully, "things have gone. . . rather wrong."

Not that Suzi doesn't know.

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"Um." says Suzi, followed by, "Yes. You don't...zlin right. Anymore. You're not dead." Just don't try to argue with the Sime about that, Wesker, you'll be happier that way, "But you're...different."

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"Different how?"

There is nothing at Arklay that does this. He knows. Even if someone had a top secret project, death = zombie.

". . . I need you to take a blood sample. I'll figure out how to look at it. . ."

When he isn't being trapped in place by 1. chains, 2. a werewolf, and 3. paralysis.

". . . later."

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Suzi's expression can best be summed up as O.O

"Alright."

She doesn't like blood. She can deal with it when she has to, but seriously.

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A muscle in his shoulder just started spasming, which he puts down to exhaustion and, likely, more nerve damage. Interrupted blood supply to the brain, leading to death or the next closest thing; of course he's harmed his system.

He keeps his tone even. "I'd appreciate it." He has to sound calm, has to sound in control, no matter what he zlins like.

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"Alright." Suzi says, having gotten control over her voice back (her eyes are still approximately the size of tea-saucers, but whatever), "Just tell me how to do it."

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"There should be proper containers in the cabinet there," he tries to indicate it with a jerk of his head and ends up happy there's a pillow there, "the small finger-sized plastic things. They fill themselves, although you'll need to sterilize the area first."

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Suzi-Deitmar time is different from Ryan-time, and he's only just now picking up on Suzi's scent.

Which leads to looking at the expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asks, shooting a glance at Deitmar, though everything seems fine there. Not human, but he isn't doing anything he wasn't a moment ago.

Ryan's starting to really wish he knew what they were talking about.

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It takes her a moment to parse what Richard says, then she slows down enough to say, "He wants me to take blood samples."

Suzi is NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS.

"I, um. Don't like blood? If it's...just. There?"

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He is no longer being touched quite so much; this is a good thing, although now Suzi's voice has gotten all distorted again. He turns his head away, closing his eyes, and starts trying to think again.

He's got a lot to think about, and without Ryan close and at risk of harming if he snaps a chain, he's just going to put a little pressure on them--just a little--because surely he can control--

creeak.

It's just weak metal, it's just weak metal, it's just. . .

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"I'll do it, Suzi," Ryan says instantly, eyes sliding to the bed as the metal creaks again. "You're the only one who can understand him," much to Ryan's dismay, "it's better you keep speaking to him."

Ryan moves towards where the equipment is kept, since he remembers from when Deitmar was doing tests on him.

"Ask him if he thinks he can be unchained," he calls over his shoulder as he pulls out what he needs. It may seem silly to ask Deitmar that, but he's the one who'd know the most about whatever's happened to him.

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"Richard is going to take your blood." Suzi says, "I'm squeamish outside of necessary murder, and he feels helpless. He also wants to know if you feel you can be unchained."

Oh, man, she's going to need Garion so badly later.

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Deitmar says nothing at all for a moment, thinking through this all as logically as he can. Ryan feels helpless? He can try wearing these.

"Now, yes. I think it might be a good idea to return them when I sleep. Just in case."

He's alive; he feels strong; he's also damaged and his condition might be unstable. There's no guarantee the next stage of this isn't brain death.

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Ryan does not feel helpless, he feels useless! HUGE difference, which he'd very firmly point out.

If he knew what had been said.

Sadly, all he hears are voices at four times their normal speed. (Honestly? He's started to tune their noise out.) He gets what he needs from the cabinet and heads back towards the bed, needle and test tubes in hand.

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"Alright." By the time Ryan is back at the bedside, Suzi has three of the four cuffs undone and is perched on the edge of the bed, looking at Wesker's face instead of his arms. "Is there anything else we should know?"

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Deitmar pauses, breathes, and then lifts his free arm into sight. No mark where the cuff was, which, considering he was pulling rather hard, is odd.

"I don't know."

It's starting to sound a little edged, so he goes quiet, reaching for his old neutrality and pulling around himself like a worn blanket.

Speaking of things that are not around him and should be? HE's starting to notice, through the tingling on his skin, that he's feeling only sheets. "--where are my clothes?"

And.

"My neck. How did it heal?"

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Ryan moves to grab Deitmar's arm, missing it completely when the pup reacts to the movement. And like Suzi's movements, the arm is just gone.

This may become a problem.

Ryan scowls slightly and tries again, finally grabbing a hold of the chain till he can get his hands on Deitmar's arm.

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"In the drawer by the bed." Suzi says, instantly, "Except the shirt. I threw that away. It was..." her expression says heartbreakingly painful, "really distressing. There isn't any scarring, Deitmar."

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Hey! He was trying to cooperate; it's not his fault Ryan's so--when the chain is grabbed, he freezes. He has no idea what his strength is or might do.

There feels like. . . something; he shifts and finds out what it is. That section, under the buzz surrounding it, is completely numb.

He's just going to be quiet, and tired, and think about this.

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Carefully, Ryan disinfects the inside of the elbow where the needle is supposed to go. He...hasn't actually done this before, but it's been done to him often enough that he's fairly certain he knows what he's doing.

Poke.

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Suzi wants to smooth Deitmar's hair back like she would anyone else that was sick and hurt. She's damn certain he'd neither appreciate nor understand it. So instead she says quietly, "I'm very, very, very happy you're not dead, Deitmar."

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Ryan, unfortunately, could be over there gnawing his hand off at the wrist and Wesker would be unaware.

I'm partially paralyzed, partially numb, and not sure what I've turned into. Or what I'm still turning into. Or-

"Thank you," he says, simply. "Don't let Ryan get blood on him." Moment of near-sentimentality over and we're back to practicalities! "Did you touch any?" He has no idea what shape his shirt was in, but the carpet will not stop reappearing in his mind's eye. "I don't know what else I might have in my bloodstream."

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The first test tube fills quickly enough, and with the way the equipment is designed, no blood scent escapes nor does any blood spill, even when he's switching out the first tube for the second.

In the mean time, he listens to the noises Suzi and Deitmar are making and wonders how he might be able to understand. Pad and pencil? Or a tape recorder with a slowed down playback feature.

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"I won't." Then she pauses and says, "I won't let him get more. You were covered in it. Blood, I mean. I washed it off. It was....bad." Suzi's fairly small supply of nightmares has expanded by one, alright? "But, um. Richard is dead and I'm Sime. We should be fine."

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