Chapter Text
Bodies. So many bodies, all across the ship, sliced apart and left to bleed out and die, and they were the lucky ones. Blood coloured the once grey and white and yellow-orange walls in horrible gore. Gore that could never be washed away.
The gun had been knocked from their hands. The giant worms had been defeated. Their adversary weak. The thing that killed everyone, left them stranded on this hellhole with no way out, intent on never letting them go home— No. They had to get home. They had to. They couldn't give in now— not when their family was back there waiting for them to return.
For a brief moment, heart-stopping fear was devoured by pure determination. Willpower. As the dark being in red and cyan came at them again, blade in hand, their own arm reached for anything nearby. And with a single, brief flash of darkness and blur... they opened their eyes again.
... He was on the floor, cyan teal blood oozing from a massive, awful gash in his torso— staining the red cloak he wore. His eye was squeezed shut in pain, body now weak as he seemed to be trying to fight through it. The human blinked, their own body trembling as they stared at the wounded... thing. Tears blotted their vision as they slowly looked to the item in their hands.
... A ripped sheet of metal from when the ship was attacked. One that, for a moment, almost looked like this being's own weapon. It was now stained with that same cyan colour— and their own blood ran cold.
I never wanted to kill anyone. I never wanted to hurt anyone.
... Slowly, the metal sheet fell from their hands, as they looked back at the being again.
Up, down, up, down, in, out, in, out. He was breathing still, but it was uneasy. Shallow. Their eyes darted around the room, shaking. And what caught their attention was the torso of a chef bot, and a torn piece of a support beam.
... They'd made it this far without taking a single life. They couldn't let someone die because of them.
As they glanced over at the red cloaked creature again, though, their mind began to scream. No, this is dangerous. It will not care for your mercy. It'll just kill you like it killed everyone else. Let it die, and you can go home. Just let it die.
But they were already grabbing the torso and clipping it up to the ship, firing up the oven as hot as they could. They couldn't live with a murder on their conscience. Not even this one.
"... Can— can you hear me...?" They spoke, bringing the metal and firey oven over as their body felt almost like gelatin. ... Slowly, that horrible, glowing cyan eye opened, staring up at them weakly as they began using the cloak he wore to try and clean off all the blood.
"... I— I'm sorry... y-you're hurt really... really bad, um... If I don't do someth—ing, you'll— you'll bleed out. So... s-so I need to stop the uh... the bleeding, okay? A— and fast..." They could barely hear their own words over the sound of their heart pounding in their chest. Just a few moments in the oven... just a few moments, and then, carefully...
"... I'm sorry, this... this'll hurt, but I- I don't have... a lotta choice..." They whispered. The tears in their eyes began to trickle downward as they took the now scalding hot, glowing red metal, took a breath and steeled themself... and pressed it to part of the gash.
There was no scream— something they couldn't help but feel thankful for— but the faint hissing and groan of pain the being made was enough to make it clear— it hurt.
"I know, I know, I-m sorry... I— I don't want to hurt anyone... I just... just wanna go home..." Their voice was breaking, as they put the metal back in the flames for a moment, and continued to cauterize the gash. It was painful, for him. They could tell. But they didn't have time to go find a medical kit to try and stitch him up— with this much blood pooling on the floor, he'd bleed out and die before they got back. They didn't know what else to do.
It was a good several minutes of metal hissing and sizzling, agonized grunts and seething and the occasional yelp or wheeze of pain, and endless apologies and tears shed, as they did what they could to fix the damage they did. To seal up the wound, and save a life. And it seemed like it was working— the blood loss was slowing down. The flesh burnt back together into a solid scab-like material, and it was working.
"... There... there, it's— it's done... I'm done..." They finally said, turning off the oven and kicking it, and the still hot metal bar, away from both of them as soon as they'd sealed everything up. His eye had shut again, pained and weak, and he was clearly in bad shape... but he was breathing. He was alive, for now.
"... I'm gonna... go find a, uh... first aid kit. Now that you... hopefully won't, uh, bleed out..." Their words were shaky, and a bit fast as they stood up, but they managed to stay calm, walking out of the bridge, and down at least two hallways before breaking into a frantic, terrified dash for the medical bay— for either the supplies in it, or a hiding spot in case that thing came flying after them like a bat outta hell.
Their lightly armored body slammed into the wall as soon as they entered, shaking like a leaf as the sweat and tears finally obstructed their vision almost completely. And without hesitation... they threw off their helmet. Long, dirty blonde, curly hair fell down their back as they desperately wiped their eyes and face off. No. Not now, not yet. Keep it together, keep it together, just a little longer. They used the wall for support, stumbling through the medical bay until their hand found the wall mounted first aid kit.
They grabbed it, and plopped down onto the floor, sitting the case in their lap as they opened it. Gauze rolls, medical tape, antibiotic ointment, needle and thread, aloe burn treatment gel(that'd be helpful, probably), makeshift splints, more than enough supplies. This would do. They closed it up, took the handle, and before long, legs that didn't feel like their own carried them back into the bridge. By that time, their frantically beating heart and absolute terror made them feel numb. Almost lifeless.
They didn't say a word as they sat down again, now beside their impromptu patient. They wasted no time grabbing the aloe gel.
"Okay... this is going to feel cold, but it should, hopefully, make this hack job feel a little better..." They hummed, slowly and carefully beginning to massage it into the flesh on and around the cauterized wound. Aloe was good for burns, so... surely, this could at least help the pain...? They knew he could feel it though. He was twitching, flinching, shuddering at every touch. Guilt panged at their heart— They did this, they did this to him— but what choice did they have? He would've killed them, they had to survive, they had to get home.
They snapped out of it, now noticing they'd gone right to automatically applying antibiotic ointment. They kept their touch careful— light and steady as best they could. He was... seemingly in less pain, it was hard to tell.
"... Here, let's... let's get this, uh, wrapped up, okay? It needs to be kep— kept safe, from anything." Their words were still soft, still breaking up, still scared out of their mind. Keep it together, just a little longer. They got to work with the gauze wrapping immediately. Too loose, and the bandages wouldn't stay on. Too tight, they risk strangling him and causing further damages. Nice and easy, looped carefully around the body, one end held in place with tape. Steady... steady...
It took almost two and a half rolls to get the torso bandaged enough to protect that gash. They shouldn't have been surprised— honestly, they really weren't; this guy was fucking huge compared to literally any person they'd encountered. But, bandaging him, they noticed... his leg. It was bruised. Faint cyan and violet under pitch black skin, injured for sure. Did they... did they break his leg...? God, hopefully not...
It was almost automatic. Like they weren't even present in reality anymore. They just got to work with each and every injury they noticed; dry, inspect, treat, wrap, repeat. Over and over, with everything from large but ultimately shallow cuts, to small scrapes and bumps. Eventually they even wound up removing his helmet, risking their life to come so close and in person just to make sure there was no dent in their head.
"... I— I think that's... uh... that's it..." They whispered hoarsely, sitting back and looking over their work. He was definitely not in the best shape, but... he'd last a bit longer, probably.
"Y—... you..."
They almost jumped out of their skin, hearing the soft, ethereal voice from the being that they could only assume was speaking to them.
"Easy, easy, just... j-just rest for now, okay? We— we can try to, uhh, figure something out once you're better. Y- you lost a lot of blood. Like a lot. You gotta rest." The human immediately started rambling, shaking again as they got up. They couldn't just... leave him on the floor, right...?
Palms sweating, and heart once again pounding in their ears, they had to try. They wrapped their arms around his torso, and pulled. Which... wasn't exactly easy. They were pretty sure they pulled a muscle of their own trying to move him. But, with a ridiculous amount of effort, and a stubbornness that they hated they had, they managed to drag this... thing... over to the wall and sit him against it.
... And, by some miracle, it seemed like it was asleep. Probably exhausted, just like them. Having to experience near death is tiring, but adding on having to sit there as someone cauterized their potentially fatal wound shut? ... He was probably in desperate need of rest.
... Just like they were.
A small noise from the console grabbed their attention, and they very reluctantly forced their exhausted, unsteady self up to check.
"... A distress signal...?" They whispered. Why were they seeing a distress signal? And... why was it coming from the moon? There's not much chance someone could have crash landed on the moon and survived this long, right...?
... Just a little bit longer. Hold on just a bit longer.
They engaged the launch sequence, and set course to follow the beacon— all the while keeping a careful eye on their patient slash potential murderer.