Beneath the Ice: An Among Us Fanfiction

Chapter Nineteen: Despite Yourself

"With a lot of luck!" Petri replied. Forte was still staggering around blindly, holding his eyes. Yeesh, the canister must have been more pressurized than he thought. Petri looked around and spotted Clasher still on the ground, holding his sides and coughing. He ran over to his friend and waved a hand over his face. "Clasher!"

"When did Mister Poindexter learn to fight?" Clasher asked in between coughs. He accepted Petri's hand and shakily stood up, leaning almost all his weight on Petri.

"According to my calculations, fifty-three seconds ago."

"You... you son of a gun!" Clasher started laughing hysterically, all the while Forte was still bellowing and Captain Foster was trying to get to Commander Harrison. Cinnabar was yelling something incomprehensible as if she was trying to get Forte to calm down. An admirable effort, but Petri could tell that Forte had gone off the deep end. Even if there was a chance, Petri calculated that the odds of success were around five million to one.

"I don't know about that, Peregrine was the one who signed up for the Army while Cin and I went to space," Petri muttered under his breath. He was grateful for the fact that Clasher's sanity didn't seem to have gone that far down the rabbit hole that he couldn't walk; otherwise Petri would have no idea how to move him. Petri got Clasher to the hallway and sat him down against the wall right next to the door. "Clasher, stay here. Cin's going to help you once we get to a safe position."

"The darned seagulls," Clasher slurred. "Go away! I don't have food for you!"

"Oookay," Petri said slowly. Cinnabar would definitely have to take a look at that. And maybe Clasher, too. If there was some sort of venom that threw Clasher off his rocker, then Petri would probably have to report that. "I'm just... gonna go help Cin."

Petri ran back out, only to see that Cinnabar had it. She and Captain Foster were dragging a semi-conscious Commander Harrison in between them, all of them sporting new red polka-dots on their suits. Well, except for Cinnabar. Her suit was already red. Feeling quite awkward, Petri gave them a thumbs-up and Cinnabar (probably) rolled her eyes.

"Yes we got it, thanks a lot!" Cinnabar snapped. They got close enough to see Clasher still laughing at seemingly nothing in particular and Cinnabar sighed. "Oh great. Who brought the unauthorized alcohol and why is our Sec. Officer partaking? Actually, who didn't invite me to the party?"

"Lieutenant, focus, please." Captain Foster sat Commander Harrison down across from where Clasher was laughing and snapped her fingers in front of the Commander's face. Blood was trickling out of the side of her mouth and nose. "Commander. Indigo! Indie! Wake up! Blast it!"

The captain gave up and went to the panel on the wall, opening it and furiously messing with the wires and breakers. Petri and Cinnabar looked at each other, then back at Clasher. He was still saying something about seagulls, but now he was saying something about wind as well, and how the seagulls rode the wind current.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Petri asked.

"He's either off his rocker, or he's lost blood, or both," Cinnabar grumbled. She yanked off Clasher's space glove and checked his pulse. Which Petri could have done himself if Cinnabar hadn't used his PADD as a makeshift rock. "Well, it's official. This is a bit weird."

"A bit?"

"Fine. This is a weird as weird gets," Cinnabar deadpanned. "We gotta get these two to MedBay before they get to the point of no return, or else they're going to die."

"Couldn't be more ominous, could you, Lieutenant?" Captain Foster muttered.

"Well, I'm going to have to check you as well, Captain. That amount of time when blood was being partiality cut off to your brain might have weakened the neural link."