He is perfectly warm, has a normal pulse. Hell, even has a healed arm.
But he shouldn't.
He should be dead. ]
I watched it, Gunny. I didn't take a single breath for seven hours. I was a husk. I felt it happenin', and I just--
[ He clenched his fists tight. ]
It ain't right.
Yeah.
Just now, I ain't normal, either.
[ The trembling is slowly receding, and he swallows, looking down at their hands. ]
Makin' it real hard to feel real at all. Like some - damn science fiction story--
Yeah. I just hope this ain't- this ain't some protoshit-- [ He cut off, letting out a hard breath. ]
Brought me back.
[ He looked like he was going to be sick again, but instead he just took his hands back from hers, folding them across his chest. ]
We just gotta find a way to get the hell outta here, and hope that leavin' doesn't undo whatever the hell it is that's keepin' me alive.
[ Watching Bobbie scrub at her face is enough to drag him out of his own self pity, suddenly worried more about her than he is about himself. If he's a dead man walking, that's what he is. But he can't drag the crew down with him. So he sucks in a breath, straightens out. ]
Yeah. It ain't worth theorizin' over. Just - thought you should see it.
We'll just make sure no one gets caught alone, like that. We'll be alrigh'.
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