Waking up to find out that the reactor had failed seemed like the worst thing that could happen to him. But now, as Bruce starts listing off things that shouldn’t be possible but apparently are, he realizes that there’s something a hell of a lot worse than reactor failure. There’s being undead.
“Am I a zombie?” Although it might not sound like he’s taking it seriously, he is. He’s taking it very seriously, and he looks from Bruce’s eyes to his throat and back again like he’s waiting for the all-consuming desire to eat him to take over. It doesn’t. “I don’t want to be a zombie.”
Shaking his head, he wraps his fingers around Bruce’s forearm. All he’s feeling right now is fear and the irrational desire to run like hell, like maybe if he runs fast enough, he can outrun whatever the fuck’s happened to him and he can go back to being normal again.
“Fix me. You can fix me, right? Restart the… I don’t know. CPR? Get a crash cart from the clinic? Something?”
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“Am I a zombie?” Although it might not sound like he’s taking it seriously, he is. He’s taking it very seriously, and he looks from Bruce’s eyes to his throat and back again like he’s waiting for the all-consuming desire to eat him to take over. It doesn’t. “I don’t want to be a zombie.”
Shaking his head, he wraps his fingers around Bruce’s forearm. All he’s feeling right now is fear and the irrational desire to run like hell, like maybe if he runs fast enough, he can outrun whatever the fuck’s happened to him and he can go back to being normal again.
“Fix me. You can fix me, right? Restart the… I don’t know. CPR? Get a crash cart from the clinic? Something?”