Final Space Oneshots

The Cost Of Everything

Pain.

Pain was throbbing through Gary's body, and he would've screamed if he had the energy.

He had been in similar scrapes as this, but he never could he remember being in this much agony.

Pain.

And, oh god it hurt.

Gary didn't want to move but he could feel his limbs twitching out of instinct, begging to get away – but the ropes held him tight against the chair.

The human, as a rough guess, knew he had been here for some time. Or at least he hoped so. It was long enough for the bandits to take a break, and that's all that mattered to him.

"Little Cato!"

Gary finally opened his eyes (well eye – the other one had been gouged right out of its socket, it's blood running down his face and into the pool below) and focused on the door. It was the only thing in the room that wasn't the cold slabs of brick imprisoning him.

"Little Cato! Run!"

Gary let out a low moan despite his wishes. The pain wasn't fading, but building as his body woke up. He hadn't even been aware that he had passed out; the last thing he remembered was a glinting knife plunging down.

(Oh.)

A dark stain was on his side, growing steadily bigger. A twisted blade was stuck into it deeply, and he was sure it was hitting the other side of the chair.

(So that's where the knife went.)

"Little Cato you have to stay here no matter what, okay?"

"O-ok..."

There was a steady dripping echoing through the room. Whether it was a loose pipe or his own blood he didn't know, but it was driving him insane. He just wanted to die in peace, goddammit, could they just give him that?

Gary's breath hitched as another wave of pain pulsed through him, making the world tilt around him. He closed his eye tightly, letting out a small cry. The dripping grew more rapid, confirming Gary's grim suspicion. His blood was pooling under him, making his feet slip as he writhed.

"W-will we get out of this Gary?"

"Sure thing SpiderCat. Don't worry...we'll find a way..."

"Gary?"

"Yeah?"

Because the pain was too much for him now, and he wanted it to stop. He wanted it all to stop but he was forced to endure it all slowly.

"I don't want to die..."

Gary began to choke and he spluttered out a thick wad of his own blood. He let it dribble down his chin as he lay his head back, panting. Each heaving breath his chest took pulled at his injuries, making him cry out each time. His vision grew dark around the edges as he tried to keep going, keep breathing, but it was getting hard.

He was running out of time.

"I won't let you die, okay? Never."

When he thought of the way he was going to die, he thought it would be quicker, like a bullet to the head. Sure, he knew he was going to die before he could hit retirement, but not like this. Anything but this.

But he couldn't regret his actions for one second.

(He was going to turn thirty-nine this week – a good number of years alive. It was good enough for him.)