goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

There's an alarm sounding somewhere. An alert. He doesn't care. The next guard that comes at him from through the door gets thrown right against the crack- as much as Delta doesn't agree with this course of action he will help him be precise about it-

The glass gives. Shatters. York vaults after the body and rolls through the shards, sprinting for Wash.

He's only vaguely aware of anything going on around him. Hard to pay attention when his mind is unravelling, tearing itself apart, trying to rebuild and restructure around what's being forced into him. The screams are broken with sobs, great gulps of air and tears running down his face. It hurts and he doesn't have time to care. It hurts and he can feel blood trickling down the back of his neck. It hurts and that's all there is and- "I'm sorry i'm sorry i'll be good i'll be better i'll obey please stop."

Delta knows what he's looking for before he thinks to ask, hands scrabbling at the machine at the nape of Wash's neck, detaching it, shutting it down and pulling it out before someone, anyone can come for him. It's not like he'll be able to get out of here without getting his ass kicked but like hell he's leaving Wash to this.

Not again.

Not when he can stop it.

"Wash? Wash. It's over, it's over I need you to look at me, okay? Open your eyes-"

It's gone as suddenly as it's started and the cessation of it hits him nearly as hard as the start of it had. He sages in the restraints, sobbing quietly, struggling for breath. There's hands on the back of his neck, movement, someone talking. Hard to focus when his break is still sparking. It only slowly resolves into recognisable words.

And it- it's an order so he opens his eyes, stares at York blankly.

"Wash? Say something man, come on." He keeps one hand on Wash's jaw while he scrabbles at the wristbands, ignoring the shouting behind him. A sealed room means sealed but apparently someone doesn't know how to work the lock. If he was smart he'd grab a weapon but he's not being all that smart right now. All and all he gives himself about ten to fifteen seconds before someone man's up and knocks him out.

Everything seems slowed down and sluggish right now, even his own reactions. He blinks slowly at York. The hand on his jaw feels... nice. He thinks.

"I- I'm supposed to stop you. They said that. It's orders. I have to follow orders. I have to."

"No one SAID shit, they beamed it into your BRAIN like assholes how the fuck do you not call this brainwashing-" Arms, wrists, waist, ankles- okay he's up. He slings Wash's arm around his shoulders and tries to get him to his feet. "Come on, we're going. I don't know WHERE but we're getting you out of this room, fuck this room, fuck this machine."

"If I'd obeyed they wouldn't need to hurt me," he mumbled, slumping back in the chair and closing his eyes again. "Not brainwashing. Just reminding me of my orders." He didn't move when York unfastened the restraints, not until he's grabbed and has to stand and it's hard, really hard, when his legs feel weak and his head is pounding and he feels so heavy.

"I'm supposed to stay. Stay until I'm dismissed."

"Fuck that and fuck them." He mutters, cradling Wash against his side as he starts for the door. He won't get far but- the attempt counts, right? IT matters that he's trying. "Fuck staying."

He's torn between curling against York's side and pulling away. He should stop him, should be obedient, but York had- "You came back for me."

Memories are a malleable thing, his mind confused enough that that's all that matters right now. York had come back for him.

"Couldn't find you before." He mutters, hauling Wash along till they get to the door. Nowhere to check, no armor, no weapons. They are not getting far- but his point has been made. He's a threat and he is PISSED OFF. "Got you this time. Gonna get real crowded in a sec so hang on, okay? Okay."

He doesn't slide the door open so much as kick it and even in only the undersuit? He's got force. He's got means. He's PISSED OFF and that'll grant him any extra force he can Needs. The hall is, in fact, crowded. Their guns are all, in fact, pointed right at them. York keeps himself between Wash and the crowd, glaring. "I'll go back to my room but like FUCK are you taking him from me."

"Okay," he agrees. It's easier to do that if it's an order, easier to think around whatever they'd put in his head. It'll die down eventually. He'd only been in there for a few minutes. He clings to York as they approach the door and he winces when he kicks it open, the sound stabbing into his skull.

There's about twenty guns pointing at them. More than that. Wash hooks his chin against York's shoulder, brings his lips close to his ear. "Camo units," he whispers, a warning about what else might be waiting before he pulls away, staggers to keep himself upright and holds up his arms.

"You are not putting him back in that chair." He should've broken the machine. Didn't think to. Too busy trying to get Wash out of it, get him somewhere safe. Surrounded, outnumbered, out gunned- he holds his hands up but still does what he can to keep Wash behind him. "Seriously. Not gonna happen."

There's too many of them. York might be fine, maybe, but he can barely stand. He should never have got York involved. He sways on his feet, drops his arms because holding them up is exhausting. "I- I'm-" He's obedient, he's compliant, he follows orders and no, no, he can't think, he can't get around it.

"York... it's easier if you just... comply. If I do."

"This is me complying. They STILL don't get to take you. They want you? They'll have to shoot me." He is not budging on this. Not even a little. HE couldn't help back then, he'll be damned if he doesn't try now.

They can't win. As soon as York stands down, they'll be separated. He must know that. He must. "Please don't. Don't get hurt for me. I'm not worth it."

He turns to the guards. Charon guards, not his mercs. "I'll go back in. Just... just don't hurt him. This is my fault for being weak."

Edited 2015-09-14 03:33 (UTC)

"Don't you dare. Don't you DARE go back in there Wash. I am not gonna stand out here and let them do that to you." He should've smashed the machine. He WILL smash the machine the next time he gets loose. THey might have another one but there'll be a reprieve for them.

He didn't want to. It hurt so much and he knew what they were doing to him. Each time made it easier to give in, to not think, to follow whatever orders he was given. And eventually there might not be anything left of him. But if it helped York, kept him safe... And he's tired, so utterly tired.

There's a flicker in his vision, a flash of cyan, and then there's a hand on his shoulder. Carolina. She glares at the guards. "Lower your weapons," she snaps. "I'll deal with this."

York bites his lip, hard, when Carolina flickers into view. She can't make him go back in. She can't. If this is what they endured? He can't really be pissed at them now, can he? They never got a choice. They never got a fucking CHANCE.

There is a long, tense moment and then the guards seem to accept Carolina's word and leave. And it's just the three of them. Carolina slings an arm around Wash's shoulders and he leans gratefully against her.

"Get his other side, York." Her tone brooks no argument.

For the moment he was gonna have to trust her- so he gets his arm around Wash's waist and settles himself against his side. "Got him."

If they head back into the room with the chair- he's gonna break something. He will legitimately shoot Carolina if it comes to that.

She gives a sharp nod and jerks her head towards the left hand corridor. "This way. We'll get him back to his room. He's always... tired, after they do this."

Her lips are pressed together in a thin line, and her grip around Wash tightens protectively.

"Gee I wonder why?" Not brainwashing his ASS. Healthy working relationship like FUCK. this is WORSE than the project, how can they work with worse? They know better! He bites all that back, supporting Wash as best he can as they stalk down the hallways.

"I'm fine," Wash growled, but the fact that he kind of needed them to support him didn't help his case much. "It's not the first time. Won't- won't be the last either." He couldn't stop fucking up. He just needed to be better.

"How long were you in?" Carolina asked.

Wash shook his head. "Few minutes. Not a full shot. York broke the glass."

Carolina glanced up at York, her expression unreadable.

"They were injecting shit into his neural implant." He growls, hand catching on Wash's waist. "He was screaming. Like Epsilon. You really think I'm gonna sit down and let that happen? Damn right I broke the glass."

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)