borderline - the last of us.

37. look for the light.

'LOOK FOR THE LIGHT, RALPH.'

He tried to. The second he opened his eyes he was blinded, and was then met with an unusual burning feeling as he kept them open, circling all around his eyelid to his waterline, stinging the back of his brain, making him cough all of a sudden. As quickly as he had opened them, Ralph closed his eyes.

There was a click and the light in the room disappeared, a flashlight being turned off. People began to speak, voices coming from every corner of the room, but the closest one seemed to be right above him, hovering over his body. Another click and he was squinting his eyes shut, only for a hand to come down over his face and pull the left one back open.

'Look for the light.' The man above him repeated, holding it a considerable distance away after the previous reaction. He could make out a silhouette behind the overwhelming brightness, opting to stare at it instead, attempting to make out facial features or a nametag perchance. The man didn't like that. 'Follow it.'

The flashlight moved to the left, no longer covering his face. Ralph made out the nametag "Mariott." They stared at each other for a moment, the doctor pissed off, Ralph confused, everyone else in the room pliant and anticipating.

Then, Ralph reached up and scratched the guy right down the face, diagonal across his cheek due to horrible estimation and eyesight, and there was an abrupt need for the guns and guards in the room.

'Agh, for fuck's sake!' Doctor Marriott yelled, staggering away from him and bringing a hand up to cradle his injury, blood beginning to spill already.

For a second, it sounded, and felt like, the guards were going to find a use for the heavy-duty guns they were cradling. Someone bashed their gun against Ralph's head, and another in the far corner was jostling his helmet, as if nodding in agreement.

'What the hell are you screaming for?' Marlene's voice followed the sound of the door swinging open. She went silent as she spotted the state of the doctor across from her, eyes glossing over the three stripes of broken skin, and then began to whisper, something that Ralph didn't care enough to listen out for.

The gun against his head pulled away, and someone had a hand on his shoulder, pushing him to sit up. When he was upright, he began to cough again, chest tight with a reason Marlene was about to explain.

'You woke up in the elevator. We had to douse you before you did something you might regret.' She stared at his irritated, watery eyes, still clamped shut in pain, and then pulled a small, black bottle from her pocket. As if he could see it. 'Pepper spray. Sorry.'

'Doctors also say you've got a pretty massive concussion.' She continued, slipping the bottle into her back pocket and crossing her arms over her chest. 'Don't worry about the others, the girls are fine. Joel got a few scratches, but he can manage.'

'Where are they?' Ralph didn't recognize his own voice. It was all strained and pained and hoarse, throat drier than a desert. He cleared his throat, only for it to burn further, proving to be rather useless.

'I wanted to thank you, Ralph.' Marlene continued, not dignifying him with a response, glossing over it like that question didn't take half of the energy in his body to muster up. Not the kind of way he thought she would treat an old friend. 'You didn't have to come all the way out here. You didn't have to risk your life, or Lou's for that matter. But, you did. And we all appreciate that. I lost half my crew crossing the country, but you and Joel... You got all the way out here by yourselves. Two kids by your sides and everything.'

Marlene stepped forward, placing her thumbs on either side of her jeans, through the belt loops. 'You know, you two are the only people I never wanted to be in debt to. But, I owe you. The both of you. We all do.'