resonance, baby — roe & vin

They get him back to the medical wing with less fight than last time. That'll be the poison slowly kicking in, and the fever that hasn't quite faded yet.

Plus Roe's sure that he inhaled enough dust and dirt while being yanked around in that grain field that there's a permanent layer of sediment in his lungs.

It makes him feel heavy. His arms weigh three tonnes each and his head weighs five. He lets Vin pull him wherever they want because it would take too much energy to fight it now.

He's still thinking about Laney's face. Bentley's head landing between his feet.

He keeps glancing back to make sure Mateo's still there and following.

The med wing is still as stark and unfeeling as the last time they were here. The fluorescents hum too bright and his stitches twinge in the sterile air. Vin's hand is cold.

It barely takes a few seconds before Roe tries to wander away.

There's a long white tube in the centre of one of the rooms; a bed backed into a halo. The slot in the side makes it look like a giant unsmiling mouth. There's a set of buttons below the slot, unlabelled. Roe pushes one on instinct and the whole thing lights up, then it whirs and spits out a blank page through its slot.

Roe's clean now, the gore's gone, but he's still mostly incoherent. His skin is too warm, and he's slurring a little, but he's fine.

Mostly, completely, fine.

He holds the glossy bit of paper that the tube gave him in both hands. He peers into the white glow of the machine's centre.

"Vin." He calls, perfectly normal, perfectly clear.

"You should get in."