[ Wesker's voice was raspier than it was when he'd first awoken; while the air in the hospital room was certainly dry, it was probably a lingering effect of having been intubated some six hours. Regardless of whatever reasonable explanation was available, though, it was jarring to hear his friend's smooth, low voice this hoarse, another stark reminder of his humanity. As untouchable as he'd always seemed, as he'd always conducted himself, here was Albert, lying in a hospital gown with two freshly bandaged gunshot wounds, still not fully clear of the immense threat to his life.
He'd almost died. He could have died without William ever having a chance to say goodbye. He hadn't even known he was wounded for hours. ]
It's doubtful.
[ But Birkin wasn't sure, either. They had been pretty hellbent on seeing their Captain, and they hadn't taken the no well coming from a stranger. ]
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He'd almost died. He could have died without William ever having a chance to say goodbye. He hadn't even known he was wounded for hours. ]
It's doubtful.
[ But Birkin wasn't sure, either. They had been pretty hellbent on seeing their Captain, and they hadn't taken the no well coming from a stranger. ]
What is your pain level?