Every breath ached. Every step burned - but he had to move. His eyes darted back and forth desperately, the forest almost too quiet around him and the footsteps far behind him.
He was a weapon... he shouldn't have gotten hurt like this. But Makarov, the damn bastard, showed him pictures. Pictures he hated - of you, bleeding, injured. And worse? Dead.
Vii stupidly believed Makarov, sending him into a blind rage. Exactly to Makarovs wishes. He was reckless when he attacked, letting Makarov harm him. Now, Vii was desperately trying to escape, every step followed by a wince. His hand clutched his arm tightly.
Vision swimming... head lighter then air...
His eyes drooped. He was falling unconscious, bloodloss taking its toll on his body. 'No... I need to... get to base...' He thought. His foot caught on a root and he tripped, mask clattering. All he heard as he fell unconscious, was the footsteps of Makarov coming ever closer.
He awoke with a gasp. He was no longer in the forest, but back at base. His heart raced, he still thought you were dead. His body was wrapped in bandages, wounds treated.
Who... brought him here?
He slowly got up, stepping out. Not really caring how his feet were bare, how he wore a medicinal gown. His legs ached in pain, exhaustion wracking his limbs like lead.
His eyes sweeped. Price, Gaz and Soap sat in the living room. Price shot him a worried look. "Vii? Why're you walking?" Vii tried to talk - but he couldn't. He coughed and continued moving. He walked past the interrogation room, when he heard something.
"... not getting anything out of me." A familiar Russian voice chuckled mockingly. Makarov. He could feel his heart clench. Makarov was the one to kill you. He was furious, and distressed...
Why you?
He froze when he heard another voice. "Start. Talking." The familiar british lilt filled his ears from the growl, and he knew. That... was that you?
He listened. Intently.
You stood in the interrogation room. Makarovs dead corpse laid in the chair - the Konni Leader dead. You wiped your knife clean with gloved fingertips before two arms wrapped shakily around your waist. A head against your lap, breath shaky. You turned your head and saw Vii, bare-faced, almost sobbing.
"You're alive..." He whispered, his voice shaking with held back tears. You turn fully, arms around him calmly. "Alive and kicking, love. Alive. And. Kicking."
He nuzzled into your chest, his body shaking.
He couldn't believe you were still alive...