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who; Strelok and Doctor, with special guest Doctor’s Dog
what; Strelok needs some looking after
where ; Exclusion Zone, the Swamps
when ; post-Journey To The Center
warning(s); none
He’d collapsed on the floor of Doc’s shack and after that he couldn’t remember much. All he could really remember before that was the sky turning red and a pressure like his head was going to explode and blood dripping down his face where he’d been clawed by a bloodsucker (stupid move, hadn’t been paying attention and missed the eyes in the dark) and Ghost and Fang arguing. They sounded so far away.
He drifted in and out after he opened the door to Doc’s little house. Day and night were indistinguishable because the interior room was shielded from light. His vision was blurry and half-missing anyway, the few times he opened his eyes. Sometimes he could hear Doctor milling about the room, mumbling to himself, or the low grunts and whines of his pseudodog. The beast was probably only worried because its master was worried; it really didn’t like him much.
The whole trip had been a crazy idea in the first place. ‘Let us find the Wish Granter and live like kings,’ he said. ‘The center is untouched, think of all the new artifacts we could find,’ he said. ‘There is a pattern to the Brain Scorcher I am sure of it,’ he said.
Some of that was true. But then they found the door in the NPP, a secret code-locked place in the heart of Reactor 4. And then the Zone lashed out with another blowout like the one in 2006. The one that brought them all here in the first place.
How stupid of him.
He wasn’t sure how long it took him to ponder all this, if it was minutes or days, but he groaned and rolled over, tucking his head into the crook of his elbow. The left side of his head felt heavy and his entire head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. He heard footsteps then, shuffling, Doctor mumbling to him to lay on his back to keep the swelling down as he gently pushed his patient back into place. He didn’t resist at all.
He was starting to feel embarrassed about the whole thing. How could he have even decided on something like trying to get to Chernobyl? That was some young, fresh stalker’s dream. That was something a wet-behind-the-ears rookie would do. Not him. Not them. They had been around almost as long as Guide and Doctor, they knew better. But they still had to try. And they made it. No one else had ever made it.
He could have gotten Ghost and Fang killed.
But that door.
What was back there? What was so important that the Zone would lash out and try to kill them like that? It wasn’t the Wish Granter. They’d all heard it but they ignored the call. Too much radiation, they’d decided. Let’s find something good and then get out of here. And then they found the door.
He wakes up finally, eventually. His eyes roll a little as he wakes. He can’t see out of one, raises his hand in a slight panic… and feels cloth and cotton. The eye is still there, it’s just covered. That bloodsucker had ripped across his face and this was probably the only way to make sure it was bandaged. He sags, looking around the room. Sitting next to the bed and panting is Doctor’s Chernobyl Dog. “Hey… ugly,” he mutters, voice cracking and the sound rough enough he almost startles himself. The dog lets out a chuff at him, cocking its head. “Doc.” His voice is still hoarse and too quiet. He’s been out for a while. He clears his throat a little, trying to work up enough saliva to combat the dryness, and tries again. “Doc!” A little better.
Doctor actually rushes in, worry on his face until he sees his patient. “Strelok. Thank God, you are all right.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Strelok into a hug. He puts up no protest, still feeling weak as a kitten. Doctor is one of the few people he’d allow to see him this way. The other two… aren’t here.
“Ghost… Fang…” he murmurs, voice partially muffled by the fabric of Doctor’s trenchcoat.
“They are fine. They dropped you off here and left in a hurry.” Maybe it had something to do with the door… or their argument. Their argument over what to do with him. Ghost stood up for him. He should repay him the kindness sometime. It would take a little while to figure out something. He’d have time. “It was a little touch and go there, son. But you have made it.”
Doctor is the only one he’ll let call him ‘son’ anymore. He used to tease him about it, back when he was still a rookie stalker… but he’s grown fond of it since then. It feels like having a father again. He raises his arms, tentatively and slowly, and returns Doctor’s embrace as best he can. More gently and lighter – like holding a delicate artifact instead of gripping a rifle – but it is good enough for now. “I will need a few more days.”
“Take as long as you need.”
what; Strelok needs some looking after
where ; Exclusion Zone, the Swamps
when ; post-Journey To The Center
warning(s); none
He’d collapsed on the floor of Doc’s shack and after that he couldn’t remember much. All he could really remember before that was the sky turning red and a pressure like his head was going to explode and blood dripping down his face where he’d been clawed by a bloodsucker (stupid move, hadn’t been paying attention and missed the eyes in the dark) and Ghost and Fang arguing. They sounded so far away.
He drifted in and out after he opened the door to Doc’s little house. Day and night were indistinguishable because the interior room was shielded from light. His vision was blurry and half-missing anyway, the few times he opened his eyes. Sometimes he could hear Doctor milling about the room, mumbling to himself, or the low grunts and whines of his pseudodog. The beast was probably only worried because its master was worried; it really didn’t like him much.
The whole trip had been a crazy idea in the first place. ‘Let us find the Wish Granter and live like kings,’ he said. ‘The center is untouched, think of all the new artifacts we could find,’ he said. ‘There is a pattern to the Brain Scorcher I am sure of it,’ he said.
Some of that was true. But then they found the door in the NPP, a secret code-locked place in the heart of Reactor 4. And then the Zone lashed out with another blowout like the one in 2006. The one that brought them all here in the first place.
How stupid of him.
He wasn’t sure how long it took him to ponder all this, if it was minutes or days, but he groaned and rolled over, tucking his head into the crook of his elbow. The left side of his head felt heavy and his entire head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. He heard footsteps then, shuffling, Doctor mumbling to him to lay on his back to keep the swelling down as he gently pushed his patient back into place. He didn’t resist at all.
He was starting to feel embarrassed about the whole thing. How could he have even decided on something like trying to get to Chernobyl? That was some young, fresh stalker’s dream. That was something a wet-behind-the-ears rookie would do. Not him. Not them. They had been around almost as long as Guide and Doctor, they knew better. But they still had to try. And they made it. No one else had ever made it.
He could have gotten Ghost and Fang killed.
But that door.
What was back there? What was so important that the Zone would lash out and try to kill them like that? It wasn’t the Wish Granter. They’d all heard it but they ignored the call. Too much radiation, they’d decided. Let’s find something good and then get out of here. And then they found the door.
He wakes up finally, eventually. His eyes roll a little as he wakes. He can’t see out of one, raises his hand in a slight panic… and feels cloth and cotton. The eye is still there, it’s just covered. That bloodsucker had ripped across his face and this was probably the only way to make sure it was bandaged. He sags, looking around the room. Sitting next to the bed and panting is Doctor’s Chernobyl Dog. “Hey… ugly,” he mutters, voice cracking and the sound rough enough he almost startles himself. The dog lets out a chuff at him, cocking its head. “Doc.” His voice is still hoarse and too quiet. He’s been out for a while. He clears his throat a little, trying to work up enough saliva to combat the dryness, and tries again. “Doc!” A little better.
Doctor actually rushes in, worry on his face until he sees his patient. “Strelok. Thank God, you are all right.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Strelok into a hug. He puts up no protest, still feeling weak as a kitten. Doctor is one of the few people he’d allow to see him this way. The other two… aren’t here.
“Ghost… Fang…” he murmurs, voice partially muffled by the fabric of Doctor’s trenchcoat.
“They are fine. They dropped you off here and left in a hurry.” Maybe it had something to do with the door… or their argument. Their argument over what to do with him. Ghost stood up for him. He should repay him the kindness sometime. It would take a little while to figure out something. He’d have time. “It was a little touch and go there, son. But you have made it.”
Doctor is the only one he’ll let call him ‘son’ anymore. He used to tease him about it, back when he was still a rookie stalker… but he’s grown fond of it since then. It feels like having a father again. He raises his arms, tentatively and slowly, and returns Doctor’s embrace as best he can. More gently and lighter – like holding a delicate artifact instead of gripping a rifle – but it is good enough for now. “I will need a few more days.”
“Take as long as you need.”
