Chapter Text
With a loud gasp, Mike manages to shake himself awake.
Dear space-grub jesus, what the fuck was that? One strange, horrifying dream, that's for sure…
He quickly realises that if he doesn't get himself out of here soon,, it'll be a reality. For both him and—
"Dave!" He shouts, head whipping to the side to look at the other. He's hoping to hear something different out of him than gibberish, but to no avail.
Fucking moron. If it weren't for him, they wouldn't even be in this mess right now! He's lucky his patrol partner is a god damn genius. And that said partner happens to like him.
… wait… backpedaling a bit. Don't think like that, Mike. Now, how to get out of here…
He wiggles around in his constriction until his shock baton lands in his hands. Worth a shot, he'd guess. Aim it away from his body and turn it on, pretty simple.
One moment Mike's testing that theory and another he's on the ground. The weird… meat cocoon… thing, he was just trapped in, twitches a little. He hopes the thing likes the taste of hypercharged electrons. At least he thinks that's how electricity works? It's been a while.
He slaps a hand to his forehead. Priorities, Mike.
Then again, it's a little hard to think when you're panicking.
He raises his baton to swing at the one Dave is trapped in, and is almost reminded of something. God, was that a long time ago.
"Sorrydudegottasaveyou-" Mike mutters as he swings, the cocoon seizing and spitting the other out, Dave landing with a crack.
" SHIT ."
Mike then scrambles to pick him up. He's comically light, for someone a solid foot taller than him, it's almost too easy to lift him. One hand is placed behind his head, the other behind hip and back. Like a bridal-style carry, or, like, a particularly large baby.
Mike's so glad Dave is delirious, or else he'd never hear the damn end of it.
"Ahagl…" The other immediately clings to him, words slurred and nonsensical. "..ahagl c' ah...?"
Mike rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."
"Cahf's nafl-..."
"I'm gonna get us out of here, you got that?" It's more reassurance for himself than Dave, who probably can't hear him anyway. "As soon as our feed reconnects I'm calling dispatch and we're gonna get fixed up, alright?"
Click-click-click.
The same Synth from the dream walks into the room.
"There's our cue. Never thought I'd work with one of these guys… ugh, I almost sound like that jackass that transferred from City 10." Mike shudders. He's just going to follow where the Stalker is going to go and hope those things (not the cocoon-things, the other things) don't decide to nip at his heels.
For the most part, the trip goes fine. They seem to ignore him now that he's not, like, covered in alien pheromones or whatever.
That is, until the adrenaline begins to wear off.
Stumbling out into the moonlight, Mike can already tell he's still some distance away from the city. He looks behind him, the pitch darkness of the tunnel causing chills to crawl up his spine. Gotta keep moving, Mike.
Keep moving.
He doesn't know how long it took to make it back to the front entrance of the tunnel. It's gotten a bit hard to keep his eyes open.
He skids down the hill next to the tunnel to stand on the sidewalk. Mike then ever-so-gently places down a prone Dave on the hill, turning 90° on his heels, and pressing a couple fingers to a button on his helmet.
"Dispatch, do you read me?"
"We read you loud and clear. Who is this?"
"Civil protection unit 17-5-1. Something happened and we need help."
"You already called for back-up, what else could you need?"
"We made it out. But-" He accidentally cuts himself off with a strained yawn. "-something happened in there and now my patrol partner is injured. Maybe me too. It's hard to think."
The person on the other end sighs. "Alright, Mike. We're sending a medical team after your coordinates."
Mike blinks, pausing for a second before speaking.
"Thank you. I just… need to sit down for a moment." He wasn't lying, it really is getting hard to focus. He's been blaming it on adrenaline, but it could very well be something else–
He sits down, and everything starts to go blurry.
"Please try to stay conscious, Mike."
Huh.. what? Sorry, he didn't quite catch that. My battery is low and it's getting dark.
"... Mike?"
17-5-1's radio cuts out, indicating its total disablement with a loud beep.