[Reinhardt doesn't protest the help when offered. He knows that he needs it. He's going nowhere without it, as much as he might not like the fact. He's stubborn, but being stubborn is not enough to overcome a shattered knee. He's aware enough that he won't run the risk of injuring himself worse, perhaps permanently, in an attempt to appear stronger than he is.
Angela helps him to his feet, and in all honesty, Reinhardt is somewhat relieved he's not required to move immediately after getting there; being upright after being left so long on the cell floor has a sense of vertigo overcoming him briefly, something he has to close his eyes against and fight down as it attempts to turn his stomach. He hardly needs to get sick over something as ridiculous as this. Walking is going to be difficult enough.
Once his makeshift crutches are in place, Reinhardt takes a breath, steadying himself and giving them both a nod in turn to let them know he's going to begin. He takes his first step toward freedom.
The walk through the halls of the Talon base is a slow, painful affair, his ruined knee protesting every time he's forced to put some sort of weight upon it. Reinhardt bears it in silence, his face set in grim determination. He is a Crusader, a frontliner of the Omnic Crisis, and he has survived far worse than anything Talon has thrown at him here. He will survive this. Angela's presence at his side is a constant grounding force, makes it easier to soldier through the pain. But her presence and his determination don't stop him from breaking out into a sweat of exertion, don't stop his breathing from growing heavier. They don't stop this from being an ordeal for the old lion.
But they make it. They reach the trucks, and Reinhardt has never been more relieved for sound and activity, for a place to sit down. He's exhausted, and now that Talon isn't there to harass him, to deprive him of peace, his eyelids are beginning to feel quite heavy. He forces to stay awake until they get on the jet, at least.
Then? He manages nothing more than Angela's name, trying to her of his intentions to nap and failing, dropping into sleep the second he allows his eyes to fall closed.]
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Angela helps him to his feet, and in all honesty, Reinhardt is somewhat relieved he's not required to move immediately after getting there; being upright after being left so long on the cell floor has a sense of vertigo overcoming him briefly, something he has to close his eyes against and fight down as it attempts to turn his stomach. He hardly needs to get sick over something as ridiculous as this. Walking is going to be difficult enough.
Once his makeshift crutches are in place, Reinhardt takes a breath, steadying himself and giving them both a nod in turn to let them know he's going to begin. He takes his first step toward freedom.
The walk through the halls of the Talon base is a slow, painful affair, his ruined knee protesting every time he's forced to put some sort of weight upon it. Reinhardt bears it in silence, his face set in grim determination. He is a Crusader, a frontliner of the Omnic Crisis, and he has survived far worse than anything Talon has thrown at him here. He will survive this. Angela's presence at his side is a constant grounding force, makes it easier to soldier through the pain. But her presence and his determination don't stop him from breaking out into a sweat of exertion, don't stop his breathing from growing heavier. They don't stop this from being an ordeal for the old lion.
But they make it. They reach the trucks, and Reinhardt has never been more relieved for sound and activity, for a place to sit down. He's exhausted, and now that Talon isn't there to harass him, to deprive him of peace, his eyelids are beginning to feel quite heavy. He forces to stay awake until they get on the jet, at least.
Then? He manages nothing more than Angela's name, trying to her of his intentions to nap and failing, dropping into sleep the second he allows his eyes to fall closed.]