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"Oh,good to smell you are awake" the blonde hair man with glasses said with a sarcastic tone.
"Where am I? How long was I out?" the other replied while taking a deep drag on the cigarette.
"You're in the Followers of The Apocalypse's Fort. And do you really want to know?"
"Oh.Well,that means that someone found me and managed to patch me back up.. And sort of."
"Yes,and you did die once during the operation. You were out for about nine days. Medically induced coma." the nerdy fellow stated as he threw him a small bottle filled with something.
"What's this?" he said as it fell into his lap. He picked it up and examined it. It was a bottle of the shot and bullet fragments.
"The Doc pulled them out of you. And you really need to stop that." he said while pointing at his cigarette.
"Why? And who are you anyways? I like my smokes. And where is my whiskey?"
"Because,its not healthy for you. And you can't drink while you are here. And I'm Arcade. Normally,I'm researching new ideas and such,but your normal doctor is busy. So they sent me to check on you. Since I wasn't doing much anyways.."
"Look at me Arcade. I ain't exactly a paradigm of health and perfection."
"I can see that. Who are you?" Arcade asked.
"My name doesn't matter. But I do thank you for getting me back on my feet." he asked.
"Yes,well,you are welcome. Your tags. They don't match anything I have ever seen before. Where are you from?"

This Arcade guy is a curious type and is certainly pressing me for answers, he thought to himself. "The funny part about being shot in the head twice,is I don't remember. I don't know who I am,what I am,or where I'm from anymore. I just get flashbacks. Oh well" he said while tapping out another one to light.

"Yes,well,your nightmares are noticeable. You had someone watching you while you were out to make sure nothing happened. And you did fight the sedation during the surgery. We had to restrain you." Arcade said.
"Shit. Fuck drugs. I've seen what some of those addicts turn into. When you overdose on some of that stuff..there's no getting the sticker out..you are just..Dead. Lights out. Nobody is home anymore" he trailed off while looking away.
"Were you an addict at one point?" Arcade asked.
"I don't really know. All I know is drugs I really am afraid of." he replied quietly.
"I think you should see one of our psychiatric doctors. The trauma you have sustained should be addressed. We have a few nearby. If you want me to,I can send word and you will go see them. You are functional. And you seem to be alright now. But you should rest up for a few days."
"I'll think about it. But I won't make any promises. And I was out for nine days. I think I'm fine."
"Suit yourself then." Arcade waved dismissively as he walked out of the tent.

"Damn,that guy is a frigging fruitcake.." he muttered as he light another one up trying to debate on what he was going to do next.