Lost Count

Memories

"Well come on! You aren't just gonna stand there now, chuvak? Do you think the knife is just gonna slit my throat on its own?" Pavel just kept trying to goad him, trying to rouse a reaction from Artyom. But it wasn't working. Any urge he might've had left to harm Pavel had just died out when he saw him on the ground, injured and bleeding. But when he walked closer, right up to the tips of Pavel's boots, the other man seemed to think that his words had an effect. "Davai, Artyom."

Artyom knelt down on top of Pavel, letting his knees fall to the ground on either side of his waist. "Wha--?" He grabbed him by the downy collar of his jacket and shook his shoulders roughly, the only thing he had strength left to do to his old friend. "Aagh, what the hell are you doing?" Pavel cried out, confused and annoyed at Artyom's antics. It was hard to see his face, as the cracks in his gas mask splintered all across the visor and blocked out most of his features. Pavel probably couldn't even fully see Artyom either.

Probably couldn't see the sad way his brows were tilted.

But Pavel's gaze flicked to the left, then his entire head shot over to look at the opened window next to them. "What the fuck?" Artyom looked over to see the Little Dark One climbing through, inquisitive and tilting his head to the side as he inspected Pavel. The man started weakly struggling under Artyom, calling out, "Ah, you're gonna set the beast loose on me then? Woah you're some hero, huh?" Whatever Pavel was going to say next was cut off by the Little One rushing forward and laying his hand on the exposed skin of the side of Pavel's head.

Artyom could feel the darkness overtaking his vision; the precursor to a walk through memories not his own.

~*~

"Comrade Morozov." It was Korbut, with Lesnitsky sitting across from them in front of the desk of the general. "You understand your mission then? When you succeed, the whole of the Metro should be within our grasp. The virus will wipe out those who oppose us." Pavel's heart raced with nerves; Artyom could feel it like it was his own. "I expect you to deliver it to your contact, who will then plant the box in the station of Oktyabrskaya. Then you will go to the Red Square and await further orders. Do not allow anyone to pass through, kill if you must." Pavel saluted, but the nervous fluttering of his stomach didn't cease. "You will not fail me again, Major."

"I won't, Comrade General!"

Artyom's vision blurred and swirled before his eyes, until he found himself in another part of Pavel's memories.

Seeing himself through another's eyes was an odd experience. Memory-Artyom was slumped over in the 'negotiation' room, passed out in the chair he was strapped to. He would've looked peaceful, had it not been for the bloodied face and quickly swelling eye. The room was dark and empty of other human beings. Pavel was the only other one there. Artyom could feel a pressure building in his throat and behind his eyes. Like he was about to cry. It gave him the urge to sneeze or wipe his nose, but he couldn't while observing through Pavel's eyes and body. "Ti durak. Why didn't you just tell them what they needed to know?" He felt Pavel's mouth move and hoarsely question his own unconscious body.

Pavel moved closer and held up a wet rag to memory-Artyom's reddened cheek, beginning to wipe away the blood with gentle strokes so as to not wake him. Not like anything could actually wake him from his drug-induced coma. Artyom realized this was not long before Leonid entered the room and freed him, as he remembered the feeling of cool water on his face when he had awoken. "I didn't want you to get hurt, D'Artagnan. I wanted you to join us, they'll kill you otherwise." Artyom felt that feeling in Pavel's chest again, a pressure like a wire wrapped around his heart. "Despite what you may think of me, I really do consider us friends," Pavel sighed, bringing up his free hand to run his fingers through memory-Artyom's hair.