revivalproject | Out from ruins once possessed

Entry tags:

Out from ruins once possessed

Who: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Albert Wesker
What: Collecting Radioactive Samples for Wesker
Where: Temba Green 22 ✧ Laboratories
When: Early/Mid Month
Warnings: TBD

"So- when he gives me my shit, I say we hike out to some clearing and smoke under the stars," Eddie mused as they walked, though hiking didn't seem so appealing in the moment. Why'd this place have to be so far away? "You know, that way we don't have to worry about Max walking in on us or anything?" Not 'cause he thinks she has a delicate constitution or anything, but because he's not sure he trusts his non-sober self to refuse her if she asked to join. And he had a feeling Harrington would object to any of his nuggets seeing him messed up.

He pulled up the map again, attempting to orient them and make sure they were still heading the right way. "Should be just around here if I'm reading this right."

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"...bring my shit when you do," Eddie mutters, not entirely sure if he believes him, and scowling a bit at the blunt instructions. There's no room for questioning, and right now...Eddie doesn't want to, so he simply nods, stepping inside the room,

"And pain killers," he thinks to add, trying to match that same tone Wesker uses, but doesn't quite succeed.

Steve is so fucking mad he doesn't know what to even do. Sighing, he turns to Eddie once the door was shut and gestures toward the bathroom. "You go first, man. Leave your clothes out here. I'll wash yours and mine when I take a shower, next."

He doesn't want to touch anything considering he's fucking radioactive right now. Steve therefore just grunts as he tries to sit down onto the floor. He can handle this.

"Yeah?" Eddie looks guilty as hell, for multiple reasons, and he tries to help Steve sit. He'd make a bigger show of insisting Steve go first if he hadn't just thrown up, but he does at least have the foresight to find an empty trash bin and bring it over. "You know...just in case," he explains with a slight grimace.

"M'sorry about all this, man," he mutters, stripping his shirt off. "I can wash mine-" he adds, not wanting to put it all on Steve, whose been suffering through the pain longer than Eddie has.

"It's not your fault, dude." Steve's stomach is roiling and there is every expectation that he's on the verge of throwing up in a second. He just doesn't want to do it in front of Eddie. "You were gonna go alone. I forced myself on this trip and even then, you had no idea you were gonna be irradiated."

Steve offers him a small, weak smile.

"If I wasn't there, you could have been whipped to death by those vines. And then I would have to bring you back to life just so I could kill you again. Lotta work. So, no apologies for things that aren't your fault. And you're giving me those clothes. I've seen your room, dude. Laundry is not a talent of yours."

Snorting softly, Eddie can't really deny that.

"...I'll try and be quick," he promises, and he moves away to finish stripping down, leaving the clothes for Harrington and ducking inside the bathroom.

He does his best to scrub down, the sheer act of standing under the water feeling difficult by the time he's through, but he manages, and he eventually emerges wrapped in a towel and squinting towards Steve.

"...Still alive, Harrington?"

The answer to Eddie's question is silence, but that probably says enough.

In the time Eddie was gone, Steve had thrown up twice, started breaking out in a fever, and finally hit a 1 on the Migraine Scale. He'd managed to get his shirt off and move his bat to the door of the bathroom so it could be washed as well. But after that, he'd pretty much just leaned against the wall groaning as his head throbbed and his stomach flipped over.

He didn't even hear Eddie ask his question. But he did at least see him walking toward him.

"Hey, man..." He smiles, waving a hand. "Feeling a little better?"

"Feeling more naked and wet?" he offers, trying to crack jokes still despite wanting to curl up on the floor and never move again.

"You're not looking so hot..." Eddie moves to touch Steve's forehead but stops himself. Probably should wait until after he's been scrubbed down too, otherwise Eddie'll just...get it on himself again. Honestly, he's not sure how it works, or if water and soap can really do anything or it's just to give the illusion that they're doing something to fix the problem.

"Yeah... Yeah, I..." Steve groans as he stands up and struggles his way into the bathroom without another word. "Yeah. Go lay down. I'm gonna go take care of..." He waves his hand to finish the sentence. When he passes his bat, he grabs it and drags it along behind him. "I'll just be a second."

And he wasn't.

It took Steve close to fifteen minutes just to scrub himself clean and the water was freezing cold by the end just to combat how warm he felt. Another ten minutes was spent washing both his and Eddie's clothes and ten more on top of that for the bat. So, all in all, it took nearly forty-five minutes for Steve to finish everything he needed to and by the time he was done, he was done.

Coming out, he's also got a towel on and he's about the same color as it. He doesn't even smile at Eddie this time as he wobbles over toward a bed and flops onto it.

"You alive?"

Idiot that he is, Eddie believes him. He flips off the light before practically falling into one of the beds, and he's so out of it he's not sure how much time has passed before he lifts his head to see Steve's still not out.

His attempt to get up and investigate turns into another long session of puking into a waste basket, and he swears he's just going to lay his head back down for a second when suddenly he's starts awake, aware that the waters stopped.

Good. Steve's alive. Probably. He lifts a hand to give a so-so motion, and a beat passes before he groans in verbal response. "...Maybe." Another long stretch- "...were you gone...a long time?"

Was he? Steve blinks at Eddie, confused at the question just because time seems to have no meaning. "Maybe..."

He shrugs.

"I'm back now." He looks at the waste basket and frowns. "I should clean that out for you..." But when he tries to get up, he pretty much just lifts his head an inch and gives up. God, everything hurts. What the fuck was going on in his body? Why did radiation fuck things up this much and not do the decency of putting him unconscious?

"I hate Wesker."

"Nah man," Eddie tries to shake his head and winces at the feeling. "...just gonna need it again soon." And Steve's just as half dead as Eddie, he shouldn't be stuck playing nurse maid.

"...I hate my eyes," Eddie snorts softly, heavily laying a hand over his face and managing to squint through his fingers towards Steve. "Try and sleep. But don't die. Kick your ass if you die."

Steve accepts that because what else is gonna do? Fight Eddie? He couldn't fight a sneeze right now. "Okay," he accepts, crawling into the bed and groaning. Even with no light, he still pulls the blanket over his head for improved darkness. It almost immediately is too hot though so he pulls it down with a very dignified whine.

"You don't die," he says with all the sass of someone telling a 'Your Mom's joke. "Ugh. Okay. I'm going to pass out for awhile. If a doctor comes this way, ask them to take out my brain."

Eddie still can't bring himself to get under the blanket at all, wouldn't even have the towel if not for modesty, sure he was going to literally burn up or melt away, but at least it'll be over then.

"Mmm-," It's about all the response Eddie can manage, but he gives a weak thumbs up he doubts Steve can even see, drifting in and out of awareness.

Unfortunately for the two young men they have to be fast sleepers because their hour has come to an end and Albert Wesker is a remarkably punctual man with no patience for delays. As such he doesn't even bother knocking when he sweeps into the dark room, now wearing his white labcoat instead of the heavy black coat he had worn before.

The lights are switched back on with one quick, sharp move and he is by the side of the closest bed in just as little time, reaching for the occupant's arm with one hand while the other is holding an injector ready to be plunged into his first patient's flesh.

"OW! What the FU-" Steve is ready to rip his head open as soon as the light flicks on. He groans as he sees nothing but white for a long second. And then there is Wesker. With a fucking injector pointed toward Eddie's arm.

"Woah!" Steve tries to get up from him bed and nearly falls on his face. As it is, he sort of slides out all the same, leaning against it just to stay somewhat vertical. "Get...get the fuck... Get the fuck away from him! What are you doing?! Edd-"

That's as much as he can do before his grip slips off the mattress and he ends up sitting on the floor. Even there he's pointing a very threatening finger up at Wesker. "Get! The fuck! Away!"

God, it's like the worst hangover he's ever had crawled inside the worst fever he's ever had and died. Even through his eyelids the light is far too bright, and Eddie groans, trying to shield them with the back of a hand. "Wayne," he pleads, forgetting where and when he is.

There's a lot of shouting, and someone's grabbing his arm? But when Eddie managed to squint the figure that greats him isn't his Uncle, and he jerks, weakly trying to pull his arm away, before he's distracted looking to Steve on the floor. "S'happening-?" he manages groggily, then back to Wesker- "S'that? What are you-?"

Of course these two idiots have to wake up and cause a fuss. Eddie's arm is grabbed in an iron grasp to hold him still. "Don't move." He doesn't wait for a response or for Eddie to become awake enough to struggle even more before administering the dosage with the same quick precision he would usually use to kill someone standing in his way.

It barely takes him any time before he can turn to that pointing finger, dropping the empty injector into the pocket of his coat and retrieving a second, identical one. "You're next."

Steve doesn't have the energy to fight Wesker off. He instead just glares and tries to hide his arms, for all the good that will do. "What the fuck did you inject him with?!"

Immediately he has flashbacks of Russians and being drugged. The weak flailing gets more intense.

"Fuck off, I am not getting drugged again! Tell me what you're doing!"

The bedside manner is lacking and Eddie hisses faintly as it's injected. "What is it?" he tries to repeat more clearly. He rubs at his arm where Wesker had caught him in that strong grip.

He's not sure if it's the fever, but the man seems to be moving impossibly fast...

"Wait-!" he tries to grab for him, but he's all ready gone, and Harrington is pleading and flailing. What does he me again?? "You're going to hurt him, just tell us-" Eddie tries to interject, feet unsteady as he tries to climb out of bed to Steve's aid- not able to walk a straight line in his current state.

Those are unnecessarily strong reactions from both boys and Wesker finds his patience being tested by both of their futile flailing, the intense, deep red glow emitting through his dark glasses the only sign of his flaring temper as he wraps one arm around Steve's waist and pretty much hurls the teenager back onto his bed before pinning him there with a single flat hand pressing down flatly on his chest. The other is equally quick to draw his gun and point it at Eddie in a wordless command to stay where he is. He may not have ammunition for his weapon, but the boys can't know that. It's still good to command attention.

"Again?" Wesker inquires, for the time being stuck with holding the two young men at bay. The two glowing red orbs flare up for a moment before he snarls. "Don't be an idiot. I want to both of you out of my hands as quickly as possible. And that means getting the radiation out of your bodies as quickly as possible." He adds a fraction more pressure with the hand on Steve's chest. "That's what the serum will do." In theory.

Steve goes absolutely still the second the gun is pointed at Eddie. His eyes are wide even with the lights still on, hands up in surrender. "Woah. Woah, you don't need to do that, dude. Here." He extends his arm out gladly at this point. Anything he can do to get the gun put away or, at the very least, lowered away from Eddie's chest.

"You coulda just told us what you were doing and saved all this trouble," he can't help but point out. But then, realizing that isn't going to help Eddie, he backtracks. "But, whatever, man. Whatever. I don't care. Do what you want."

"Jesus Christ, man-" Eddie curses, but freezes up at the sight of the gun. Chest tight, Eddie hardly dares to breathe, but manages a faint nod, edging back towards his bed. His eyes flick from the gun, to Steve's face, and he swallows thickly, eyes wide and brows creased with worry.

His stomach churns, but with the gun pointed at him, Eddie tries to hold it back. It doesn't seem like the ideal time to check if running off to puke is a shoot worthy offence.

"We're good-"

Effective as his old gun may be, it's by far not the most dangerous aspect currently in play. The hand currently placed on Steve's chest is much more a threat to the teenager's life, being this close to his heart and literally only a single move away from breaking straight through his breast bone.

But guns are effective, whether they are loaded or not. And that's enough for Wesker to let out an aggravated huff and put his weapon away only to retreive the injector and hold it in front of Steve's face. "What made you believe I would drug you?" He asks sharply.

Steve goes pale, eyes darting to Eddie and then back to Wesker. He doesn't really want to talk about this right now (or ever, really) but the gun is away and he doesn't want to have that come back out.

"I...uh. It wouldn't be the first time?" He shrugs. You know. These things just tend to happen, right? "I was held...uh...hostage. Sort of. It was a whole thing. Long story. But...uh. Yeah. I was drugged a little bit. It was a truth thing for interrogation, not like...killing me. But yeah."

He shrugs again.

"..." God, everything Eddie hears about Harrington's life apart from what he saw in school is just more and more shocking. He blinks a bit numbly, arching a brow at the casual tone and rubbing a hand over his hot face.

"By the creepy lab people?" He tried to clarify, having only bits and pieces of the shit they'd all been involved in before he got dragged in.

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NAP TIME IS OVER!

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