"Stop squirming, I'm trying to help you." Kedvesorias
Emile disregarded him, continuing to struggle. “I’m fine. Shit, man, can you get off’a me?”
It was probably worse than he was letting on, but that wasn’t going to stop him struggling to escape Jorge’s grip.
@kedvesorias)))
He’d sooner die himself than leave even one of his squad behind. He’d made that mistake once, he’d made it long ago, He had lived where others hadn’t. Every minute he had now as borrowed time. He’d never make that mistake again.
Emile shuddered at the pain, but didn’t show any other signs of discomfort. Helmet still on - he never took it off around others - none would see the grimacing face he made. It hurt, pretty damn badly after his foolish attempt to stand. He didn’t realize it was quite that bad…
“A’ight, fine, damn you. Just get us outta here, there’s gonna be more of ‘em eventually, you know?” Hopefully they’d get out before any of the bastards who’d shot him came back to make sure they got their kill.
“There’s biofoam on the ‘hog, but I’m gonna have to carry you to it. Now keep still if you want to survive this.” Warned Jorge.
He wasted no time trying to sling Emile over his shoulder. In doing so, he lost a free hand, leaving him with nigh but his sidearm to defend the both of them with.
Although, he did have his body; a ton of armor and his own flesh. If he had to, he’d do it. He’d make himself a shield for the one’s he’d care about, even going so far as to do it physically.
No matter how pissy the man on his shoulder could be, Emile was still his friend, his comrade, his brother-in-arms.
Emile nodded, wincing as he was slung over Jorge’s shoulder. He held on as tightly as he could, clinging to the taller man.
He felt the pain in his leg worsening, but knew there was nothing he could do - they had to get to the warthog before they’d be able to treat the injury. It was probably already dirty, would need cleaning... damnit. How had he gotten into this mess?
Right. Fighting alone. As the others were constantly reminding him not to, in case THIS happened.
Carter was going to give him so many ‘I told you so’s.
The warthog was in sight, and Emile wiggled on Jorge’s shoulder, a silent signal to put him down.
















