Both knew that, as good as the warp pads were at healing injuries, they couldn’t heal the diseases within. Guardian’s hand dropped from where he had been clutching his bicep, but the arm supporting his waist dropped down to his hip, and Drifter felt blood rush to his cheeks as he was escorted down the hallway and to the bed that occupied the center of the room.Īs they passed the kitchen, Guardian swiped a lukewarm glass of water that had been sitting on the dinner table, as well as a napkin, and offered them to Drifter. The door whirred shut behind them, and Drifter instantly felt himself start to warm. They both knew the warp pad healed all superficial damage, and his sprite was no longer flashing the black-and-white cross that would otherwise indicate a need for emergency care. “I heard your companion sound its medical aid alarm.”ĭrifter simply shrugged and let himself be guided into the house, sheltered from the cold under Guardian’s cloak. Drifter couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in his chest at the tone. “Are you alright?” said Guardian, voice filled with concern. Distantly, he felt himself grinning wide under his mask. He stumbled a bit, hands coming up to stabilize against hard-plate metal armor, and he stared into two familiar blue eyes. The harsh mechanical whirring of a door sliding open followed by the soft crunch of footsteps had him snap his head up towards the sounds, and he caught the faintest flash of pink before he felt hands gripping his arm and encircling his waist, pulling him up to his feet. Which, he noticed belatedly, was really unlike the usual violent snowstorms that battered the mountainsides and mountain peaks. As he gathered himself up, he even saw snowflakes calmly float down to the ground in front of him. It was still cold, so so cold, and a thick blanket of snow still covered everything around him. He had barely felt himself demolecularize.īut now, even with the pad working its magic on his wounds, he thought that maybe he would have to make the long, freezing trek down the Mountains anyways.
Injured, out of med-packs, near hypothermic and coughing up blood that was quickly crusting over in the cold, he had limped his way down the stairs as quickly as he could and collapsed onto the pad. He had just finished his fight against the Hierophant, up in the northern Mountains, and had been eager to get back to Central Town for a bit of rest. For a second, Drifter thought the warp had failed.
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