Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

God, you were tired.

Tired of this mess. Of this hell. Of this never ending cycle of pain and death and trying so so hard to win, to get to the crystal, to earn your freedom, only to fail, fail, fail.

And what would you do with freedom, anyways? Your family never liked you, you barely knew anyone in the city you lived in, and there was no way your job as an engineer would be waiting for you if you returned. Even with a clean record and a bunch of funds, there were some stains that couldn't be erased. 

There was nothing you could do. 

You sighed as a yell from the group you were in drew your attention out of your head. You didn't typically do runs in groups, not after having to watch the first few die in horrific and gruesome ways, but you were lonely, damnit. These other people didn't know you, and you'd never seen someone else like yourself (undying and trapped in this endless cycle of death and pain and-) before, but sometimes the company of others was better than the crushing loneliness that tried to consume you when alone. So you tolerated group runs, on occasion.

These folks seemed a little less competent than you were used to, though. It was honestly fraying on your nerves, the way these people almost sought out danger and stupid ways to die. You've had to prevent more dumbass mistakes in the last 2 hours than you think you've ever had to in your entire history of group running. Seriously, did common sense and basic self-preservation instincts just... not exist to these people?

As you pulled someone back from yet another good people door, you couldn't help but think "well, at least Painter and Sebastian shouldn't have much trouble picking these ones off. Eve will enjoy how gullible they are too, for sure". It made you pause, for a moment, as a new thought came to mind.

Why were you helping these idiots? Like, sure, they were part of your group, but you'd been on so many of these runs that any sense of "camaraderie" between you and your fellow EXR-P had long since eroded away. Not to mention that the way most of them treated Sebastian made your blood boil. 

At first you'd somewhat understood, you knew the stress relief that could sometimes come with being a dick, but now it just ticked you off seeing just how many people had such little care for boundaries the moment the person exerting them wasn't "human" enough. 

And so you decided to step back a bit, both figuratively and literally, and stop intervening as much. To your complete surprise (sarcasm) it wasn't long before someone had blown themselves up on a tripwire door. You wanted to feel sad, or upset, or horrified at the sight of their burnt and bleeding body, but you just... Didn't have it in you, anymore. Most of these people were here for a reason, anyways. You tried not to think too hard about the falsely accused.

One by one, each person you were with died. By the time you'd made it to one of Eve's areas (as you'd learned was her name via Sebastian), it was just you and one other person. You barely even struggled to stay out of Eve's grasp, mental walls built strong with practice. Though you could have sworn that she wasn't trying as hard with you as she used to. Perhaps understanding that it was useless to try and kill someone who'd just come back anyways.

You didn't bother gunning for the next door to make Eve back off. Why even? The person you were with would just die in a few rooms anyways. In fact, as you risked a peak over towards your "companion", you could tell they probably weren't going to last much longer regardless. 

You stood by and watched as they struggled, their stumbling movements placing them closer and closer to you as they tried to escape the force in their head. As they got within a few feet, you suddenly had a very, very cruel idea. Before you could think it over, you stuck a foot out just behind the person. They stumbled over it, forcing them to release the grip on their head as they fell back, face instantly snapping towards the acid eyed shark as the fall broke their careful concentration. 

You watched with a quiet sort of morbid fascination as their eyes began to melt and bleed, forcing yourself to look away from the gore you knew was about to take place. To your complete surprise (not sarcasm), Eve didn't even bother sticking around after the person died, and instead sent you a small mental wave of gratitude for your help as she left.

You straightened up in shock, looking towards the window and finding it empty. That was... Incredibly surprising. It was no secret that Eve absolutely loathed humanity, and so to be given her gratitude... It made you feel light. Accomplished. Happy. For perhaps the first time since arriving at this absolute nightmare facility, your heart didn't feel quite as heavy. You'd helped.

Though... You did also, technically, sorta kill someone. Kind of? You were just... Speeding up the process. Yeah, that was it. You didn't let it weigh on your mind, refusing to let this good feeling leave you too soon. 

You continued on, now a solo party, quickly making your way through room after room now that the band of idiots were gone. You were getting pretty close to door 50, after all. Part of you wondered if you should tell Sebastian what happened, but you decided against it. Even if you felt good for doing something nice for Eve (that's all it was. That's all it was), it still didn't feel right to brag about it.

You were, however, looking forward to taking a break. Sebastian's shop was the safest place in the whole damn facility, and so it was the only place where you felt safe enough to sleep. Sebastian had long since stopped bothering with trying to get you to leave, reluctantly understanding that it was really your only opportunity for rest. Unlike the other Expendables, you pretty much lived here, while they were only visitors who'd be gone in a couple of hours regardless.

You were so looking forward to the, in your opinion, well-deserved rest.

God, you were tired.

Chapter Text

Your plan was going fantastically… you think.

Well, “plan” was a bit of a stretch. It had started with Eve’s gratitude, this slowly forming idea in your head of “can I do that again? Should I do that again?”. And so you took some time after that well deserved nap in Sebastian’s shop to contemplate… everything. You knew you couldn’t leave. You just… weren’t skilled enough. No matter how far you got, or how well you thought you were doing, something always got you. Often, it was one of the “grand encounters”, as you’d taken to calling them, that ended your run. Sometimes it was simple negligence or not paying enough attention. Blitz was a weak point for sure, with your perhaps slower than average reaction time.

So, you couldn’t escape. At this point you weren’t sure if you even wanted to escape. You’d read Sebastian and Painter’s files by now, knew why they were doing what they were doing, even had hunches on some of their plans. You… didn’t want to ruin that. They deserved to be free, perhaps even more than you did. While everyone knew the retrieval of the crystal was inevitable, the longer it took, the more time Sebastian had to get his shit together and get the fuck out, preferably with Painter in tow.

So, you made the decision to keep… stepping in, just a bit. It wasn’t hard to “accidentally” bump someone into a turret’s line of sight, or “not hear” the good people behind the door. It was easiest to get people when it was just you and one other, since you didn’t have to be subtle or pretend you weren't sabotaging them when the opportunity struck, so you stuck with duos for the most part. You did groups here and there, when duos got stale and you wanted a challenge. You felt guilty for seeing it that way, almost like a game, but well, what else were you supposed to do? You were helping, so it didn’t hurt to have just a little fun with it, right?

You discovered more methods to accomplish your “assists” as time went on. Telling someone a void locker was safe right as an angler was coming through, tripping people into pits, “accidentally” shaking someone off your back during Abomination. The grand encounters were actually really useful for opportunities, especially Searchlights since people tended to break up to cover the most ground. It wasn’t hard to pick people off by shoving them directly into those deadly lights.

You weren’t afraid of dying yourself, either, if it meant the other person couldn’t pose a threat anymore. You were used to dying (a lie), and it barely hurt anymore anyways (a lie), so you didn’t mind risking or sacrificing yourself in order to fulfil your newly self-assigned duty. Death was the only way to reset, as well. You had to die at some point, so if you could take someone out with you… then really, there was no reason not to.

You tried not to think too hard about the people you were willingly leading to their deaths. They were criminals (so were you), they were trying to take the crystal (you'd tried the same), they were the enemy. You couldn’t just… do nothing. While any sense of camaraderie with Expendables had long since dissipated with time, the same could not be said between yourself and the creatures of the Blacksite, at least on your end. You weren’t like the other prisoners sent here. You couldn’t die. You were undying, something most would see as a strength, a blessing, and yet you had been utterly useless to anyone, Urbanshade or otherwise. Not even useful to yourself.

But now? Now you had a purpose. You could be useful. You were like an assistant. An Undying Assistant. And now you actually had something to do, to focus your attention on, instead of just the same monotonous door after door and hall after hall of before. You think you would have actually gone insane, if you'd had to keep doing just that for much longer.

You felt like you were trapped here, same as the monsters. And could you even call yourself human anymore, considering your otherworldly abilities of unwillingly dodging death? Clearly, something was wrong with you. Very wrong, even. And if you were an entity, that meant you had a duty to help the others. Urbanshade couldn’t continue. You had to see to it that they didn’t, in whatever ways you could.

Right now, the best way to ensure Urbanshade’s demise and maybe even your eventual freedom, was to help Sebastian.

You were in a very similar situation as Painter, you’d realized. Both of you didn’t have any hope of leaving this place without the hybrid’s help. Maybe you couldn’t get the crystal, but if you could just leave without dying, perhaps whatever curse that was keeping you here would release its claws around your soul and let you go. It was your best shot, at the moment.

You had a feeling that the other sentient creatures of the Blacksite were catching onto you, though. You… didn’t know how you should go about that. Should you tell them outright that your motivation for continuing on had changed? Should you wait and just let them come to their own conclusions? Maybe they wouldn’t even mention it, if you didn’t bring attention to it in the first place.

Wrong.

It was Painter who called you out first, surprisingly.

You were sure that if anyone were to ask about it first, it would have been Sebastian, but the sentient computer liked surprising you, you supposed.

It was during a now-solo run, after you’d successfully gotten rid of the person you had come down with. You had just entered heavy containment when you spotted the special side room that held the computer, and decided to stop by for a visit. You and Painter weren’t really friends per se, but there was a sort of automatic companionship that formed in the knowledge that you were both trapped here. And so you entered the room, and it didn’t take long for Painter to notice you.

“Ooo! Hello there, stranger.” The bot said with a sort of playful lilt to his voice, a scribbled smirk adorning his screen. It seemed today was one of his better days, then. The AI could sometimes get sort of… moody, to say the least. The damage he'd done to his systems in an attempt to… escape Urbanshade (there is freedom in death, but Painter deserved freedom in life, damnit) gave him something sort of similar to what you likened as “the robot equivalent of Bipolar disorder”. You’ve overheard him and Sebastian chatting in his shop though, through a little walkie-talkie that you've yet to see Sebastian without, and he always seemed… happier, calmer, when talking to the experiment. It was something you’d idly taken note of, the way the two interacted with each other.

“Hi Painter,” you said quietly as you approached the gate. Glancing over at the door that led to Painter’s sectioned off room, you immediately noticed the lack of the typical sparks and dilapidation that usually adorned it, and quickly became curious. You walked over to examine the shiny, almost new looking patches of metal, raising an eyebrow towards the computer in a silent question, of which he was happy to answer.

“Oo, yeah, that! Sebastian fixed it up for me, that way he could visit me directly!” he said excitedly. You smiled at the sight of his scribbled grin. Happiness was rare in this nightmare facility, and so any hint of it that you found was quietly cherished, stored away in your memories for later use during harder times. “Don’t worry,” the bot continued, “I had Sebastian hide the spare keycard, so that no Expendables could get in,” he spat out the word “Expendables” like a curse, though all things considered, you couldn't exactly blame him. You too didn’t exactly see eye to eye with most of the prisoners that came through these halls.

You nodded, easily accepting his explanation, and went to return to the front of the gate so that you could see Painter better. Though as you began to walk over, he, tone somewhat hesitant, spoke up and made you pause, “If- if you wanted though, I could tell you where it is,” he offered, speech tinged with something almost nervous, ”you’re, well, not exactly just an Expendable. Y’know, with the whole… everything. But!” his voice raised, clearly anxious now, “only if you want! I know I can be- well, Sebastian says I’m not but I know I can be a bit much, and you probably want to leave, and well- actually just ignore me heh, I-”

“Painter,” you cut off the rambling AI, smiling lightly. You were really heartwarmed that Painter wanted to spend time with you, trusted you enough to offer letting you into his “private” space. “I’d love to hang out with you for a bit. I could use a break,” you said softly, sending a reassuring look his way. You watched as his nervous expression changed to one of excitement, and then one of neutrality as he tried to hide his emotions. You couldn’t help but find it kind of cute, but you pushed the thought aside before you could dwell on it.

Painter directed you to the hidden keycard and you wasted no time in using it to open the door, though you were careful when stepping into the small space. You didn't want to trip and accidentally damage something, after all.

You glanced around, noting the lack of available chair, and decided to bring one into the area so that you wouldn’t have to stand. It got tiring, walking around for hours and hours on end, since you rarely took breaks besides your naps in Sebastian’s shop. You dragged in the closest chair you could find and positioned it a few feet in front of Painter's monitor, so that the two of you could talk at more of an eye level. A sigh of relief escaped you as you dropped down into it, not realizing how sore your feet were until the weight was taken off.

Painter seemed a bit nervous as you sat, but you were patient, and it didn't take long for him to start talking. He spoke about various things, but mostly focused on rambling about art and complaining about Urbanshade, which didn't surprise you. You couldn’t help but smile as he spoke, admiring the way that he seemed to try and stay positive even with everything that was going on.

Something about the bot just… grabbed your attention. You remembered the first time you read his file, sitting innocently near his chamber. What it revealed was far from innocent, and it made your blood absolutely boil in sheer righteous fury. You couldn’t help but admire the bot, for still trying to stay positive even after everything. No matter how often he used to annoy you with his turrets and gauntlets, especially since you understood exactly why he did them, no one deserved to experience the things he went through. You worried for him, though. The behaviors that the file mentioned were downright suicidal, and part of you was concerned that he may attempt to overclock himself again, even with things starting to look up for him.

There was one particular line in his file that had burned itself in your head, however. The very last line of the document stated that the damages he’d sustained were fixable, but had been deemed "unnecessary”. Thinking about the fact that they hurt him, that they could fix it and just didn’t… It made you angry, how they blindly disregarded and disrespected life over and over and over again, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that, you thought… maybe you could fix it.

You’d been an engineer before you were arrested, both software and hardware. You’d had a pretty nice job, an independent contractor for several companies. You knew your way around machines, and at the end of the day, Painter was a machine. And well… you wanted to help. The whole reason you’d started Assisting in the first place is because you wanted to help. But Painter didn’t trust you that much yet, and you couldn’t be sure this was something you could fix yourself, and so you wouldn’t offer. Not yet, at least.

You'd kind of gotten distracted as Painter talked, lost in thought and somewhat mesmerized by his scribbled face that was so simple and yet so expressive, and so you were caught off guard when he suddenly asked, “so, what's your deal?”

His tone wasn't accusatory, instead seeming genuinely curious. You tilted your head, unsure of just exactly what he meant, and you told him as such. His eyes made a motion that was very distinctly an eye roll, even with his lack of iris. “Don't think I haven't noticed how people seem to keep “tripping” into my turrets whenever you're around. Orrr an increased number of people falling for the Good People. I've literally heard you tell someone a bad door was a safe, like, three times now! Not that I'm complaining, though! Just makes my job easier.” He giggled, a familiar expression of mischief on his face.

You blinked, caught off guard by the fact that someone was already calling you out on your change of behavior. It made sense, though. Painter was everywhere, in literally every part of the Blacksite. Of course he would be the first to notice, with how attentive he could be. Though, now that you thought about it, you were sure that Eve had noticed and just hadn’t said anything to you directly. You fidgeted with your hands, unsure how, or even if you should explain yourself. You decided that it wouldn’t hurt to at least offer a basic explanation.

“Well, I… I just wanted to help,” you said, smiling shyly. You didn’t know why you were hesitant to share, really. You weren’t ashamed of your decision (lie lie lie), if anything, that initial thanks you received from Eve made you feel almost proud. You… wanted more of it, of this feeling of usefulness, but you didn’t want to ask for acknowledgment. No, no, it needed to be earned.

Painter raised a digital eyebrow, and you fidgeted some more, shrugging. His expression shifted into a smirk, “heh, maybe you aren’t the dullest thing Urbanshade has to offer,” he teased, referencing the first time you had met him and Sebastian had called you “not the sharpest thing Urbanshade had to offer” over their shared radio. You sputtered, mock indignant, before breaking into quiet laughter.

“I- thank you? I think?” you asked lightly, a small grin present on your face. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed. Painter even laughed with you, though it was more of a chuckle, and you felt something in your chest settle at the sound.

“Noo, thank you!” he responded, “I appreciate the helping hands, y’know, considering my lack of such,” the bot joked, pulling another grin out of you. You were practically beaming at the praise, heart light and chest warm. This is what you were doing this for. For them, these people who deserved so much better. You could be something, to these creatures. You could aid in the downfall of Urbanshade, the most vile company you’d ever had the displeasure of “working” for.

The two of you continued to chat, with Painter carrying most of the conversation. Not that you minded, you were always more of the listening type anyways. Though that wasn’t to say you didn’t participate, especially when it turned out that Painter’s creator had been a fan of one of your favorite television series, giving you an opportunity to infodump about it. You could hear the tinges of sadness in Painter’s voice as he spoke of his deceased creator, but he didn’t direct the conversation away from the topic, and so you trusted that he was ok. You hoped he would tell you, if he wasn’t, but well… some people had trouble asserting boundaries. You would just have to be mindful.

You didn’t realize how close you’d gotten over time, elbows now leaning on top of the table as the two of you talked. You didn’t even notice how much time had passed, until the crackling of a radio startled you and Painter both. Sebastian’s voice fizzled through, laced with just the slightest hint of worry.

“Hey, not asking for anything, just checking in on you. How are you feeling?” the hybrid asked. You watched as Painter looked over to the radio, noting the way the bot instantly lit up at the sound of Sebastian’s voice. It was cute, the affection that the AI held for the man, and you knew it was reciprocated. Had seen Sebastian go from moody to calm in just a few words when talking to the artist. It made something in your heart squeeze, just a little bit, a mixture of happiness that they had each other and envy at not having someone like that for yourself mixing together in an ugly sort of emotion. You stubbornly pushed the feelings aside, refusing to let them affect how you interacted with the two.

You were distracted, and so missed Painter’s response to Sebastian, but focused back in as soon as you heard him mention your name, “-is here with me! Uhm, I hope you don’t mind that I told them where the spare card was…?” he asked nervously, looking between you and the walkie-talkie.

“What? Of course not, Painter. I trust you to be able to handle yourself, and if you believe they’re safe… well, maybe I’ll judge you a little, certainly a strange choice of companionship, but that’s still your decision,” he spoke mostly sincerely, though he also slipped into teasing you for just a moment.

You glared half-heartedly at the small radio. “You are literally a fish, Sebastian. I am not the strange choice of company,” you huffed, lips quirking up in the corners even as you tried to maintain a disgruntled demeanor. Not like he could see it, anyways. Painter snickered, and even Sebastian chuckled a little, a rare accomplishment and a reassurance that he knew you weren’t being serious.

“Well, if that’s all, I need to go back to scavenging. Just wanted to make sure you were ok, Paint. Talk to you later,” with that, the radio clicked off, signaling his goodbye. You turned your head back over to Painter, noting a few subtle strokes of pink adorning his screen. You took a mental note of it, but didn’t comment. Instead, you sighed, leaning back against the chair. You should reset. It’d been a few hours by now, surely, and you needed to get back to work. You couldn’t risk being away for too long and someone making it to the crystal. Sebastian needed more time. You stood slowly, stretching and cracking your bones, wincing at the sound.

“Ah, off so soon?” Painter asked, though he seemed to know the answer already. You nodded, smiling at him with just the slightest hint of disappointment, even if you were the one deciding to leave. You really had enjoyed your time with the computer. You should visit again soon. You turned to exit as an idea crossed your mind. Hesitantly, you gave the top of Painter’s monitor a pat as you were walking away, not sticking around to see his expression, though you definitely heard some fans whirr a little louder.

He called a goodbye to you as you left the room, and you waved a hand back in your own farewell. It was time to get back to being useful.

You wondered why your heart was pounding.

Yeah, your plan was working out fantastically.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before you’d fallen into a routine.

Do a few duo runs, do a group or two, take a nap, repeat. Collect what data you could for Sebastian, maybe visit Painter and chat for a bit. Say hi to Eve, on the few times you ran into her. It was predictable. You were bored.

You were thankful that dying reset your need for food and water, even if for some reason it always left your exhaustion, bone deep and dragging you down no matter how many times you died. It was the only reason you ever bothered to rest at all, knowing that if you pushed yourself too far it would just make you too sloppy to reach Sebastian and rest safely once more. You’d really rather not have to nap in an office again, even if they were relatively safe from harm.

Something about Sebastian’s presence just made you feel safe. Protected. You didn’t have to worry about the beasts that lurked in the depths of the Blacksite when Sebastian was around. Painter once told you that he’d even taken on Pandemonium and won. He was strong and dependable, even if he could be a snarky little shit with a bad attitude sometimes. You couldn’t exactly blame him, though. Goodness only knows what you would do in his position… you didn’t think you would have been able to survive, to escape, to do any of the things you’d seen the sea snake hybrid do. He was brave, and it just gave you all the more reason to admire him. Not that you’d ever say any of that to his face, feeling embarrassed at the mere consideration.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts as you approached a group of people in the submarine docks. It had been a minute since you’d undertook a group, and you were getting a little antsy. The group took you in without question, as they often did, and it wasn’t long before the four of you made your way into a submarine and began your descent.

You slumped in your seat, thoughts drifty and distracted. It wasn’t often you got like this nowadays, but it had been a common issue growing up. You liked to think you had a better handle on it as an adult, but even you knew you were lying to yourself (you always knew when you were lying to yourself, nothing but a liar liar liar-). You didn’t let it bother you too much, knowing your focus would sharpen once you got started. You had to be alert when you were working, if you didn’t want to die prematurely.

The submarine docked, N.A.V.I’s helpful little message about staying away from the hatch pulling you from your thoughts once more. You stood from the bench with the rest of the group, stretching your limbs in preparation. You idly looked around the dock as you exited the submarine, taking your time with “exploring” the area. You’d seen pretty much every type of dock a million times over by now, but you needed to look the part of someone who never had. The rest of the group chatted idly, calling out to each other to point things out. You said a word or two, but mostly stayed quiet.

You’d always been quiet, preferring action over words. It had sometimes gotten you in trouble, growing up, but was mostly appreciated by the people you’d chosen to hang out with over the years. You wondered how they were doing (did they miss you? did you deserve to be missed?).

You pushed the thoughts aside as the group decided to move forward, chiding yourself for your distractedness as the familiar beeping of a keycarded door unlocking rang through the dock. You needed to get your head in the game, but no matter how much you tried to focus, your brain refused to cooperate.

Maybe that was how you’d gotten yourself in this situation.

It had been going… well, it had been going. Your normal tricks were being circumvented so far, but you’d been managing to pass them off as just newbie things or accidents. You could feel the call of sleep starting to yell at you, and so you blamed your failed attempts at sabotage on your growing fatigue. Maybe if you weren’t so tired, you would have noticed the looks the group kept giving you, the way they started to whisper behind your back, but you didn’t.

As you continued on, you internally cursed the fact that Urbanshade had started to give the EXR-P access to files on their creature database as more of them died, the corporation making an attempt to delay their deaths. It made it harder for you to trick people into doing things that would normally lead to their demise. Of course Urbanshade would choose to do something decent right when you really needed them not to.

You supposed you weren’t subtle enough, excuses not up to snuff, as the next time the group ran across Eve, someone very obviously and deliberately pushed you, knocking you harshly onto the floor. As you fell, you made eye contact with the shark, feeling the tendrils of her grasp beginning to grab at your mind. Before you could even try and fight it, she pulled away from your mind to avoid causing you harm. You panicked, internally pleading with her not to blow your cover, but she either didn’t hear you or didn’t care as she swam off, thankfully only a moment before the next door was opened. Hopefully the others wouldn’t notice…?

They definitely noticed.

You stood up and dusted yourself off, chuckling nervously as the three others, 2 men and a woman, approached you. They admitted to having been suspicious, voices harsh and looks riddled with glares, but now they were certain that you were working with the monsters and trying to kill them. They were right, of course, but they didn’t need to know that. Your heart began pounding in your ears as you realized that they were onto you. They knew, they knew, what do I do what do I do fuck fuck fuck-

You panicked internally for a good few moments, before stammering out a suggestion that perhaps you were just immune to Eyefestation’s effects, sweat forming on your neck and eyes unable to meet any of theirs. When they didn’t buy that, you panicked some more, before deciding that the best lies often came with a bit of truth.

“I- I can’t, uhm, die,” you admitted with a sigh, letting some of the panic drain from you to sell the act, pretending that that was your only secret and the reason you were so scared. You took a deep breath as you attempted to control your rapidfire heartbeat. Shoulders slumping as you let some of your chronic exhaustion and weariness come through, you continued to explain. You didn’t want to tell these people anything, but you needed them off your tail, and quick. “I just… come back. So yeah, she doesn’t kill me, because she knows there’s no point,” not exactly a lie, even if you were leaving some parts out.

“But I just want to help!” you exclaimed before they could say anything, expression still nervous and hands held up in surrender, “I- I can’t leave, but I want someone to be able to,” again, not exactly a lie. You did want someone to leave, just not these people. You prayed to whatever god might exist that they would buy your anxious explanation.

The group still seemed suspicious, but they accepted the answer with little more than fleeting glances between each other. You sighed in relief, blood rushing in your ears from the sheer panic you’d just experienced. Slowly, the group moved forward, more cautious now, though they quickly got back into the swing of it. You decided to hold back on interfering with anything for a little bit, painfully aware of how weary they still were of you. You needed a plan, something that would take them out either all at once or in quick succession.

Before long, you found yourself in a turret room. It didn’t take much time before the turrets were deactivated, and you felt a wave of hope wash over you as you heard Painter’s “uugghhh come ON! You’re no fun at all!” over the PA system. You lagged behind, pretending to loot, lingering in the turret room as an idea formed in your mind. The moment the rest of the group was out of immediate ear shot, you found the nearest camera and whispered harshly, “Painter! I need your help,”

It took a few tries to get his attention, and you were really starting to wish you had a walkie-talkie like Sebastian, but eventually you did get a response. His face appeared on the door screen where the numbers usually sat, looking annoyed at your mere existence, and you winced as you realized that he was probably ignoring you on purpose. A bad mood day, it would seem. Hopefully the idea of potential violence would be appealing enough for him to help you.

You stayed near the camera, knowing that that was how he saw around the facility, and you quietly explained your plan. Thankfully, the promise of violence did entice him to help, his damn-near evil laugh making you glance nervously through the door over at your group, fear that they would overhear something.

“Ooo, that’s devious,” he giggled, “I didn’t know you had it in you! Color me impressed,” he said with that signature little smirk of his that did not make you feel anything at all, no sir. You ignored his comments, thanking him for his agreement to help before quickly moving away, rushing to catch up with your group. They were already 2 rooms ahead, but thankfully no one questioned why you were behind. You felt someone’s eyes on your back as you rummaged through a desk, glancing over your shoulder to find the woman glaring at you. She met your gaze but didn’t back down, eyes instead narrowing before turning away. You felt a spike of nervous fear at her aggression, but pushed it down. Hopefully you were just being paranoid, you were anxious after all.

It was only a few more rooms later when you got your chance.

Your cue was Painter’s cheerful “Surprise! Have fun~!”, the bot even sending you a wink of encouragement that definitely didn’t make you feel things, focus damnit, as Eve came into the window. Her eyes were bright crimson and furious, as she often was when Painter called for her assistance, but you had no trouble avoiding it entirely. Instead, you quickly tackled the nearest person, knowing that you had to work fast if you wanted your plan to work. You heard yelling, but it was drowned out by the pounding of your heart in your ears as you grabbed the person’s face and forced them to look up. His screams rang in your ears but you didn’t stop, you couldn't stop (please stop please stop why aren’t you stopping-).

As soon as you felt him go limp, you rushed to grab the next closest person, but he was prepared. He scratched and punched at you, but you barely felt the pain over the sheer adrenaline rushing through your veins. You felt alive, electric fear and excitement making your blood roar, drowning out all noise (drowning out all thoughts, what are you doing, you need to STOP-). You kneed the man in the gut, grabbing hold of his forearms and forcibly flipping the two of you around so that your back was to the glass and his torso was facing towards it. You could see as his eyes made contact with the creature, saw as he lost his grip on his mind, watched as his face began to grotesquely melt, blood dripping down, crimson droplets finding their way to your hands but you couldn’t force yourself to look away, you needed to see, you-

Before you even could register what happened, you felt a heavy force tackle you onto your back. Eve was gone, the gauntlet having ended, and the woman, you forgot about the woman, was furious.

“Why!?” She screamed as she pinned you to floor, fists meeting your face, pain blossoming across your cheek in a way that made you grateful for deaths reset because fuck that was gonna bruise. “Why?! We trusted you! Bought your flimsy fucking excuses and you still betrayed us! You sick fucking bastard-” she continued as she wailed blow after blow, the pain making your head fuzzy as you struggled to find a way out, to get her off. You’d felt a lot of pain before, but even you could only take so much.

Eventually you were able to wrestle your way out, stumbling as you attempted to run, the need to get away get away get away overwhelming any other logical thinking. You barely made it to the next door, hand holding onto the frame for support as the world spun around you, and spotted a familiar vent low to the ground. The sheer force of your relief nearly made your knees go weak. You went to push forward, to get to safety, but you didn’t even get a chance to run for it before you were being tackled from behind once more, slammed onto your front as something sharp and deadly found its home in your upper shoulder. The sheer shock and pain made you scream.

“SEBASTIAN!” you shrieked desperately as tears filled your eyes and trailed down your face, a wail of pure anguish escaping you as your assailant pulled out her knife and stabbed you again, and again, and again. You could see your vision blacking out at the corners as the blood loss and pain caused the world to haze over, so lost in the sensation of terror fear agony it hurts IT HURTS IT HURTS MAKE IT S̸̨͆T̷͖̘̒̊O̸̞̅P̸̮̺̒͘-

That you didn’t even hear Sebastian’s arrival. Didn’t hear the loud, resounding boom of his shotgun, bullet finding its home in the woman’s head, her body slumping to the side like a puppet with its strings cut off. You were so consumed by the fire running through your nerves that you didn’t even realize he was there until he was right in front of you, keratin shelled hand lifting you with a gentleness that you didn’t have the wits to process. Your body felt like someone dipped it in acid and then used it as target practice. You heaved and sobbed through the pain even as it only aggravated the injuries littering your body, for once in your entire time here begging for death to take you, for the reset you so crave to hurry up and free you from this agonizing torture.

You were not aware of the pleas that escaped your blood stained lips as you died, the way you fervently, desperately clung to Sebastian as he held you, the hybrid quietly murmuring things you couldn’t hear, couldn’t process, couldn’t comprehend as you felt your organs shut down one by one.

This time, it is a relief when death comes.

Chapter Text

Your eyes snapped open as you respawned back in the prisoner funnel, falling to your knees with a gasp. Grasping at your unharmed face, patting at your chest as if to reassure yourself that you were alive, that the pain was gone, that it was over. Other prisoners stared at you, but the guards had seen plenty worse pre-mission panic attacks and so didn't bat an eye. Your breathing was shaky, every stuttering inhale sending anxiety through you as you slowly comprehended what the hell just happened.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You struggled to take in full breaths, mind racing a mile a minute. You were alive, but were you? You felt like you couldn't breathe, and you swore you could still feel the sharp sting of the knife in your shoulder and sides. Your chest hurt, and your eyes were watering, and you were back and living but you could not breath why can’t you breath am I dying nonono I don’t want to die I DON’T WANT TO DI-

You startled as someone gently grabbed your hands, tugging them back on instinct, but they didn't let go. A voice, sweet and light and gentle, spoke to you, guiding one of your hands to their chest and taking a deep, exaggerated breath. You couldn’t process the words, mind a panicked mess, but you were able to realize what the person was trying to do. Your breathing choked and stuttered as you tried to mimic their steady rhythm, but you tried again and again (the woman stabbed you again, and again, and-), getting better with each taxing attempt. Eventually, after only goodness knew how long, your breathing calmed down along with your mind. You took another moment or two to gather yourself, before forcing yourself to look up, meeting the other person’s gaze.

She was a young woman, and for a moment your heart rate spiked as you saw eyes full of rage and hate and- but no, she was different. Her eyes were kind, worried, flitting over your form as if to check that everything was back in order. She had light brown, feathered hair, a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose.

“You ok now, hon?” she asked lightly, still looking concerned. You nodded, throat too tight to speak as you shakily rose to your feet, the woman helping to steady you without a word. You felt sorta… numb. Muted. Like you’d experienced too many emotions and now your brain couldn’t be bothered to process them anymore. It was decidedly better than panicking, so you were thankful for the dam that seemed to be holding your emotions back for the moment.

You looked past the woman, out into the rest of the docks, and felt a muffled sense of dread. You had to go back out there. You had to go back. You- you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to go face the horrors of the Blacksite again, only to die another excruciating death. You didn’t want to face Painter, or Eve, or- fuck, or Sebastian again.

You felt the walls of that careful dam crack at the thought of having to face the hybrid after what happened. He saw that. Saw you at your weakest, your most pathetic. You remembered the way he held you, a kindness that you didn’t deserve. You felt the cracks widen with the force of your shame and embarrassment.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and rebuilt the dam, determined not to break again. You didn’t have time for this. It didn’t matter what you wanted. It never had, and it never would. You needed to pull yourself together. You couldn’t afford to die like that again. You couldn’t afford to get sloppy. You chose this, you reminded yourself. You chose to help them, and you wouldn’t, couldn’t betray them (“-you still betrayed us!”).

They needed you.

(You needed them.)

You shook off the woman and began walking past her, towards the submarines waiting to take you to your doom, but she stopped you just as fast. A gentle but firm hand on your shoulder made you halt, but you didn’t turn to look at her. You couldn’t. You were so, so embarrassed by what she’d seen, even if you were grateful for her help.

“Hold it, darling, you- you should take a minute, k? The big shots can wait,” she said softly. Another kindness you weren’t deserving of. Why? Why would anyone be kind to you? At least Sebastian knew of your actions. You felt the looming weight of guilt threatening to crush you and steadfastly pushed it back. You didn’t have time. You needed to leave.

“I’m fine,” you bit out harshly, stepping away and wrenching your shoulder from her grasp. You turned your head to glare at the woman, just to communicate your irritation some more, but she didn’t look convinced. Just… concerned. She ignored your silent demand for distance, stepping over and bumping her shoulder against yours in a show of solidarity you didn’t deserve.

“Look, do you have a group assignment yet? If not, you could probably come with us. We only have three, so we need the extra hands, yeah? The files they showed us talked about some real scary things down there, so you really shouldn’t go alone,” she offered with a sweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, gesturing to two others who were patiently waiting near the stairs and pretending not to pay attention to their third.

You paused, considering. You didn’t want to go back, but there was no time to waste. You needed to get back to work immediately, and this woman was offering a group to you without you even vaguely having to work for it. You- you should take the opportunity. Even if you didn’t want to see this woman dead… she was dead with or without you, right? Might as well.

So with a heavy sigh and a mind still not quite fully present, you agreed, walking with the woman back over to the group. You ignored the way she lit up at your acceptance, ignored her chattering as she had you introduce yourself to the group. You didn’t bother paying attention to any of their names. It wouldn’t matter, soon enough.

This run would be better.

It had to be.

Even with that determination however, the fog that had settled over your head only strengthened as you got into the sub and began your descent once more. Despite the situation that your distractedness landed you in last time, you couldn’t seem to force yourself back into the present, body and mind running itself on autopilot.

What did it say about you, that tripping someone into the unknowing void counted as autopilot?

You didn’t want to think about it.

(You didn’t want to think.)

Then there were three of you, wandering through hall after hall, everything blending together in a blur of noise and hiding and background chatter that you couldn’t force yourself to actively listen to. You caught bits and pieces of conversations, and managed to piece together that the kind woman (too kind, too forgiving, too naive, she would die just like the others and you would be the one to do it, wouldn’t you? You were a monster, evil heartless traitor-) was absolutely adamant that she was falsely accused.

She was down here because it was her only way to earn her freedom. The courts were wrong, she said. She was going to get out and see her family again, the ones who always believed her when the courts and public didn’t.

You took special effort not to listen to her anymore, after hearing that.

(You didn’t want to know about the life you would be taking. Because you were taking lives, weren't you? Real, human lives. Why? Admit it, you’re a monster, admit it, ADMIT THAT YOU’RE A M̵̜͖͓͐̉Ỏ̶̘̳̾Ṉ̵̙̮́̂̀̊͂Ş̷̦̤͎̰͗̎̀́ͅT̸͉͔̞͔̍̇͗͆̿Ę̷̎̈́Ȑ̴̠̰-)

Before long, you’d made it past Abomination. You and her. The other member of your team wasn’t skilled enough to make it through (you could still hear his muffled screams as the beast bit him in half. At least his death wasn’t on your hands. Just one less stain). The woman’s chatter steadily died down as she realized that the last person who would listen to her was gone, and that you would not be participating in any conversation. Thankfully for her, Sebastian would be plenty willing to listen, as long as she was a paying customer.

Sebastian…

As the two of you approached the halfway point, you could feel your anxiety steadily mounting. Door 54 went by, then 53, then 52… and there he was, vent near the floor opening with a clang and low voice calling out to invite any nearby wanderers to come buy some supplies.

You couldn’t bring yourself to move from the doorway. You’d died here, last run, staring at that very vent. Crushed into the floor and screaming for help as she stabbed you over and over and over again. You could feel the phantom sensations digging into you, faux agony making you ache, and you quickly lost yourself in the memories. Your breathing came faster and heavier, and you were so out of it that you didn’t register when you moved, back against the wall and sitting on the floor as the dam began to break, and you couldn’t think, and fuck you couldn’t breathe not again please not again why can’t I breathe please let me breathe-

A sharp sting to your cheek snapped you out of it, head snapping to the side with the force. You quickly looked around to find the source, chest heaving. Your eyes met fabric and scales, and you forced yourself to look up, not surprised to find 3 blue eyes and an angler’s lure lighting up the dark hallway. You hated the way your body and heart instantly calmed at the sight of Sebastian, muscles relaxing as you slumped against the wall. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Damnit, you couldn’t believe you’d let him see you like that… he must have thought you were so pathetic. You resisted the urge to bang your head against the wall behind you, and simply rested it there instead.

“Back with us now, Expendable?” He stated with a tone that was distinctly unamused, only letting the slightest hint of concern underscore his words. You cracked an eye open at the sound of the title you’d long since stopped identifying with, knowing for a fact that the shopkeeper knew your name, but your eyes caught sight of the woman behind him, reminding you of the extra company. Ah, that explained it. He didn’t want the actual Expendable here to realize the extent of your… friendship? Acquaintanceship? Alliance? You weren’t exactly sure what to call your relationship with the experiment. Thinking about it too hard made you blush in a way that was distinctly not embarrassment, and so you forced the considerations to the side.

This was probably the most… aware you’d been this entire run, fog lifting if only for a moment. Your cheek stung, but you were grateful for the grounding pain. You closed your eyes and resumed your previous position, giving yourself a moment to just breathe. Goodness knew you probably needed it.

“I'm fine, Se- sir, thank you,” you stuttered, almost slipping up. You were too fucking tired to keep up this act. Damn you could use a nap in Sebastian's shop right about now, but you could feel the presence of the other person still in the hall, lingering. She was trying to pretend she wasn't listening, but you were no fool. You had to keep going. You couldn't rest until she was gone.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd slept, but it didn't matter.

(You didn't matter.)

You heaved a heavy sigh, world-weary in a way you didn't think you'd experienced before, and decided it was time to get up. You were a bit shaky as you stood from the floor, Sebastian helping to steady you, silently communicating things that could not be said with prying ears. In a bid of tired impulse, you reached for one of his hands, quietly marvelling at the texture of the smooth shell as you gave it a small squeeze in thanks. You let go before he could decide whether or not to reciprocate, focusing on dusting yourself off. You looked up to him as you finished, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

He was looking at his hand, before he caught your gaze and sighed, moving back and proceeding to scale the damn wall in order to return to his shop. You paused, momentarily baffled at the sight. You knew he couldn't just use that tiny vent in the floor, but you'd never seen him just. Just. Do that. It was an incredibly impressive show of strength that did not make you feel anything, nope, moving on.

You shook your head and walked over to the vent, still feeling somewhat heavy and slow, thoughts sluggish like they were swimming through honey. You needed a nap. After this run, you'd rest. You glanced over at the woman who was leaning against the wall by the vent, and she quickly looked away as the two of you made eye contact.

You… should probably thank her. She was almost definitely the one who got Sebastian when she couldn't get you out of your panic attack again. When you went to speak the words, however, you found your throat too tight, mouth too dry. You shook your head lightly and ducked down to enter the vents. It was fine. Maybe you could thank her later.

As you entered the shop, you could hear the clanging of the vent behind you signaling that the woman had followed you. Sebastian was in his usual position, tail extended with goodies and upper hand fiddling with the golden ring on his third hand’s middle finger. It was a bit of a habit for him, you’d noticed, especially when he was waiting around.

“Ah, welcome in. I suppose a proper introduction is in order, hm?” The merchant said, mostly directing his words towards the Expendable. You got settled as he gave his typical newcomer spiel, appreciating the way he completely ignored the previous events that had just transpired. He was selling a few decent items this time around, but you had no idea how much data you even had on you. You took out your bag and counted about 500 research, by Sebastian’s metric. Enough for the handcrank flashlight you were eyeing.

As Sebastian finished his introduction, you walked up and handed him your bag of data, grabbing the handcrank. He looked over the amount of data, seeming satisfied as he placed it down behind him. Normally he’d make some sort of snide remark, but he was thankfully quiet. The woman hesitated, taking a moment to count her own resources, before handing him her bag and grabbing a medikit and code breacher.

She'd been… awfully quiet since your panic attack. You'd figured that she'd be babbling to Sebastian about only goodness knows what by now, but well, you couldn't say you didn't appreciate the relative silence. You weren't feeling very conversational, at the moment.

When was the last time you had? You… couldn’t remember.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true. You tended to yap with Painter, during your brief visits to the AI. It was a little embarrassing, really, but for some reason you just felt comfortable around the computer, enough to rant, and you would happily listen to his own ramblings. You loved listening to him talk, the way he would get excited over things he’d seen or done. His memory was a bit spotty, to say the least, with how many times he’d overclocked himself, but that didn’t stop him from going off about anything and everything he could. You owed him a visit, soon, it had been a while.

You sighed, forcing yourself to focus. Sebastian looked bored, as usual, and the woman seemed… antsy. You supposed most people would be a little anxious in this situation, huh? She had a lot riding on this. She had a life waiting for her. She had everything you didn’t (did they miss you? Did you deserve to be missed?). You decided the complicated ball of emotions in your chest could fuck off, for the moment, shoving everything back behind that dam.

It wasn’t long before the woman had seemingly had enough, grabbing the keycard off the table. You waved her off as she approached you, silently motioning for her to go on for now. She hesitated, glancing between you and Sebastian, before nodding and exiting, loud clangs following her movements. Huh, maybe the two of you hadn’t been subtle enough.

You walked over to Sebastian and tiredly planted your forehead on the area of the sea serpent that you could reach. It was probably very telling of your exhaustion that he didn't even try to push you off. You could hear him shuffling something around, probably glancing through the documents you and the woman had given him, and took a moment to just exist.

“‘M tired, Seb,” you mumbled, deciding to state the obvious. You weren’t really sure why, exactly. Sometimes it just felt better to admit things. The hybrid huffed, and you could hear the clinking of USBs as he shuffled through the bags, “Perhaps you’d be less tired if you took a damn break, yeah?” he snarked, “you’re human. Sleep is kinda a thing you need.”

You grumbled something even you didn’t catch, shifting your head to look up at him with a glare. “You’re a fucking hypocrit,” you accused. You were right and you both knew it. Maybe that’s why he declined to respond, instead leafing through a folder. You took a second to just… look at him. His greasy hair, his blue skin, the almost enchanting glow of his esca. He wasn’t conventionally attractive, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing just a bit as you stared. You ducked your head down before the other could spot the rapidly forming blush on your cheeks.

You sighed, stepping back just a bit and running a hand through your hair. Your current “companion” was probably waiting for you.

“Going back out, hm?” The merchant asked redundantly. “Next time you stop by, it better be alone. You, my friend, need to rest,” he snapped the folder he was holding closed, before reaching out with his lower left hand and quickly ruffling your hair. You instinctively batted the hand away, before you actually processed the action. …That. What. What.

You decided for the sake of your sanity that it was better not to question the sudden affection. Damn, you probably looked worse than you thought if even Sebastian was taking pity on you.

Pity, because it certainly wasn’t care.

(You didn’t deserve care. Surely he knew that?)

You turned and walked over to the vent, ducking down and crawling through. Sebastian gave a quick goodbye as you exited that you didn’t bother responding to. You didn’t have the energy to talk anymore, having used what little you had on what you’d already said. You could already feel that familiar fog returning to you as you walked over to the person you were stuck with, and you were thankful for it, really.

The two of you continued without a word. Part of you wanted to ask her if she was alright, the lack of chatter almost worrying you, but- it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be around much longer anyways.

Speaking of, you really needed to deal with her.

Well… maybe you didn’t?

People sometimes just… died. Oftentimes you didn’t have to do a damn thing besides staying silent and people would die all on their own. Mistiming running from a turret, not getting into a locker in time for anglers, pandemonium’s… everything, there were plenty of ways people could perish without your input at all.

You decided to just let yourself float in your mind for a while, let your body’s autopilot do its thing. Surely she would mess up at some point and free yourself from one less stain, one less death, one less betrayal.

After a while though, you realized that she was just… too skilled. Naturally athletic, smart, observant. Nothing was catching her off guard. You wanted to be concerned, but you just couldn’t care at this point. You were barely conscious, eyes and feet heavy, simply just going through the motions without much thought behind him.

You took idle notice of the next turret room, skillfully dodging the beams even if it was unnecessary (after all, Painter was your… friend, you think, and so he’d already put your signature as an exception to the turret's sight). You had an act to maintain, even if just barely. The woman followed you shortly after, and well-

Well.

You didn’t think, as you pushed the woman directly into the lights.

You didn’t think, as you watched her shout out in alarm, stumbling but not falling, scrambling to run away as the familiar sound of a turret finding its target rang out.

You didn’t think, as you watched the turret meet its mark with lethal precision, the woman barely having a chance to cry out as it fired, riddling her body with holes, blood spraying into the air and onto the surroundings, pooling under her fresh corpse.

You didn’t think, as she died.

You didn’t think, as you killed her.

You could only stare, apathetic. Your brain hadn’t processed it yet, your actions, their consequences.

She was dead.

She… she was gone.

You did that.

You… did that?

She was dead. And you did that.

…

The dam shattered.

You felt the overwhelming wave of emotions crash into you. Anger, resentment, fear, disgust, soulcrushing guilt. She- you- she was good, damnit! She was a good person, she helped you, and you’d killed her anyways. You killed her like you’d killed so many other people. You killed people, fuck, you murdered them, made them trust you and then betrayed them. This wasn’t even the first time you’d pushed someone into a turret, either, but she- she was different.

You never even thanked her.

You never even got her name.

You screamed, rage and fury blinding you, overwhelming even your guilt for just a moment. You turned and punched the locker you were hiding behind, blind to the pain blossoming across your knuckles as it was eclipsed by the emotional agony spearing you through the chest. It wasn’t fucking fair! You should never have been in a situation where even for a moment your only solution was to kill others, and yet here you were. Every damn person at Urbanshade needed to fucking die for what they’d done to you, what they turned you into. A monster. You were a monster, worse than Sebastian by miles because you’d had a choice and you chose to help, not only that hut you’d chosen to sign those fucking papers because you hadn’t wanted to die, had feared death.

You screamed and cried, filled with the overwhelming need to destroy, so you ran out of your hiding spot and broke anything and everything you could find. Computers, pots, calculators, paper, it was all decimated by your hand. You wrecked everything in sight in a desperate attempt to soothe the hurricane in your head. You didn’t care for the cuts and bruises that littered your hands now, blood making your grip slick when you tried to grab more things to break, glass from shattered screens digging painfully into your flesh. You deserved it. You- you deserved worse. So much worse, for what you’d done, for what you were.

You were so engulfed in your turmoil that you didn’t even hear Painter over the P.A, his worried voice washing over you but not registering.

You turned around to grab something, anything else to shatter or smash, before spotting the still body of the woman who had been so kind to you. You stared for a moment at her lifeless form, and then you just broke. You fell to the ground a few feet away and sobbed, loud, heaving cries and wails of grief and torment, guilt and misery making you want to claw out your chest and rip open your heart. You wanted to die. You deserved it, you needed to- to pay, to pay for your misdeeds.

You came here looking for an escape from death’s clutches and now all you wanted was its embrace.

You surged forward with a hoarse shout, vocal cords shredded from all the screaming you’d done, throwing yourself in front of the beams of the guns but of course, they did not see you. You were right next to the corpse you made, now, and so you looked to her and begged for a forgiveness you would not, could not, could never receive. You apologized over and over and over (over and over, I fuck myself over) again, pleading on your hands and knees, staining yourself in her blood. You could barely think over the sheer despair that you felt.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

You couldn’t take this anymore.

You stood up, legs shaking, chest heaving with large, stuttering gasps, heart pounding so hard that you felt it would escape your ribs soon. You could hear your blood rushing in your ears and it made you feel sick. Walking over to one of the shattered monitors, you grabbed the largest slice of glass you could find, the shard cutting a deep groove into your hand. The slick of your blood made it difficult to keep a hold, but you managed. Your hands were trembling as you brought it to your neck, pressing the edge against your largest vein. One quick swipe, and it would all be over. Maybe if you died by your own hands, this curse would free you.

The sound of a turret finding its target made you freeze.

You slowly turned around, finding a turret locked onto you and… Painter, his face next to the door, looking terrified.

You… you’d forgotten about him.

About him and Sebastian, your whole reason for doing this, your whole world at this point. They were the only ones down here to care for you, the only reason you’d kept going, kept pushing forward. You didn’t deserve them.

You didn’t want to live. Didn’t deserve that either.

But- but you didn’t want to force Painter to watch you kill yourself.

What if you were right? What if this really was your last death? Could you bear to leave them behind, after everything you’d done for them? Everything you’d sacrificed?

You… couldn’t do it.

You dropped the shard, sinking to the floor against the wall, pulling your knees to your chest and burying your face into your bloodstained pants, and just. Just. Fuck. You didn’t even have the energy to cry, anymore.

You heard the turret retreat into its housing, the room now eerily silent.

“Painter…” you said hoarsely, unable to tell if you were even loud enough for him to hear you. “I- I’m done, Painter. I can’t d-do this anymore. I’m done,” you stated firmly, a few tears slipping out despite how dehydrated you must have been. It was the truth. You couldn’t bring yourself to sabotage anymore. There was too much blood on your hands already.

“That’s… alright. I- well, I was going to tell you to take a break, at the very least,” the AI responded. He sounded like he was trying his best to appear normal, unaffected, but you’d seen his expression. A care you didn’t deserve. You would never deserve it. “Please,” he continued, “go to Sebastian. You… he can help you more than I can, right now. You need medical attention.”

You huffed a dry, humorless laugh in response, lifting your head to rest against the wall, staring listlessly at the ceiling. “You could just kill me,” you suggested. It would be the easiest way to rid you of your wounds, and the bloodstained clothes.

Painter refused, and instead insisted on you getting actual medical treatment from Sebastian. He didn’t want you to go back to the surface and have to make your way through, again. He knew a path that could take you to the merchant’s nearest shop relatively fast.

So, without the energy to argue, you agreed. You stood, making your way to the door, letting Painter guide you.

It didn’t escape your notice that he never left you alone, but you didn’t have the processing power to consider the implications.

Eventually, you found yourself in a familiar looking hallway. Not the same as before, it almost never was, but you recognized the setup immediately. Painter couldn’t follow you the whole way, having been unable to get too close because of Sebastian’s scrambler, but he would check in over the radio soon.

You made your way into the vent, crawling through and into the shop, but you couldn’t find it in you to stand again. So you just… layed there. On the floor. You didn’t even bother looking up at the hybrid as he greeted you, his total lack of surprise at your state meaning that Painter must have been keeping him updated.

You heard the other sigh, large shelled hands gently grabbing you and manhandling you into a position where he could perform basic first aid. You didn’t even flinch as he painstakingly removed every little glass shard from your hands, cleaning and dressing the wounds as best as he could. Unfortunately, not much could be done about your bloody clothes at the moment, but you didn’t care. You didn’t have it in you to care about anything, as you were. You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion weighing you down as you slowly drifted off.

Sebastian paused as he finished, and you figured that was it… before you heard the shuffling of leather and clinking metal of belts being removed, items clanking onto the ground somewhere nearby. Before you could consider what he may be doing, the hybrid gently, oh so carefully, lifted you up, settling you down on something infinitely more comfortable than the cold, hard concrete floor. Your hands felt the smooth scales and thick, corded muscles of his tail, coiled up and plenty large enough for you to lay comfortably.

God, you were so tired.

You didn’t have time to thank him before you were out like a light.