Lost Count

Ulman

A/N: Ulman being the one captured instead of Anna wasn't my idea, it came from a lovely tumblr user by the name of londonlovinglinguist! Here's the link to her blog and what gave me the idea: https://londonlovinglinguist.tumblr.com/post/183549546539/metro-last-light-review

When Artyom heard the signal in the beaten down building, he felt as if he could cry with joy. Then when he heard the familiar voice of Ulman on the small portable radio, the urge for tears to burst through was even stronger than before. Ulman was a close friend, one of the people who always seemed to show up when Artyom was in the most need of help. And his general joking demeanor helped keep Artyom looking on the bright side. Not to mention, he didn't seem to mind when Artyom's voice failed him.

"Artyom? Come in! It's Ulman. We're at the church across the water!" The radio crackled unevenly and Artyom snatched it up immediately, pressing down on the button to respond. He opened his mouth, thoughts racing with what to tell them--

But he couldn't say a thing.

His throat seemed to be unable to work, no sound escaping except for an almost pained wheeze. Damn it, why did this have to happen now? His vocal cords were tight and aching, like a hand had wrapped itself his neck. Frustrated tears pricked the corners of his eyes and Artyom blinked furiously to rid himself of them. He tried to swallow but his throat was dry and tense, refusing to work for the moment. Instead of talking, Artyom tapped the speaker quietly and quickly, thoughts already running through his head on how to communicate with Ulman. This wasn't the first time this had happened in the past year. Ulman would know it was him.

On my way. Over.

The radio crackled and came to life again, "Alright Artyom! Hurry up, we can't stay here forever waiting," there was a pause and muffled speaking on the other end of the line. "Don't get eaten you crafty bastard! Over and out." A smile crossed Artyom's lips as the radio fell silent.

Ulman was as cheery as ever.

~*~

Artyom didn't feel sick. Well, maybe a little, but that could've been an effect of having to remain in quarantine for almost a week with no one but his comrade for company. Said comrade was sitting on his cot, head resting on one of his hands as he stared out through the plastic sheeting that separated them from the rest of the patients. Ulman was unusually quiet; he had been quiet for much of the past week.

When Artyom had arrived at the Church Base and subsequently defeated the bog shrimp, Ulman was joking and smiling like usual. He talked about how he volunteered to lead the welcoming party for Artyom, and how good it was to see that ugly mug of his once more. Artyom couldn't help but smile and pull his old friend in for a hug, letting his body speak the words his throat could not.

That he missed the other man.

Ulman returned the hug and ruffled the top of Artyom's hair in a brotherly gesture at the time, motioning for him to follow as he explained the Rangers' plans. It seemed that Artyom had missed a lot on his excursion to Venice. They were to travel to Polis and participate in the peace negotiations as soon as Artyom was ready, but Artyom didn't feel as if he was important to those particular negotiations. He hadn't been a Ranger long, and most of his fellows still treated him like a child. He didn't raise his concerns, as he knew Ulman would expect him to participate as well.

Then the explosion happened.

Artyom was left in a smoldering ruin and Ulman was gone. Taken by Lesnitsky as some kind of sick ransom. It wasn't surprising that Ulman would be the one taken; he was somewhat of a second-in-command to Miller, weighing in his opinion on many important issues. Miller trusted him, and while he didn't appreciate the constant wisecracks, it was obvious that he cared for the younger man. How could you not care about someone, when you did so much together to further peace in the Metro?