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Fuck me, replayed in your head as your ran, tripping over your own feet in attempts to locate a locker to hide in. The rooms you’ve encountered from the previous rooms either had lockers inhabited by those pesky void creatures, or entirely lacked them altogether. Desperate times indeed.
However, luck seemed to present itself for the first time in this run. Or in all the time you’ve been here. A dim light that managed to survive the electrical outputs from the previous angler shone above an empty locker in the room you had just run into.
Despite the frantic beating of your heart (you’d say it was more of a booming sensation) and the pounding in your head, your feet moved with fervor separate from your mind. God knows how you’ve managed to make it this long without a medkit, with the only source of energy being a surge of adrenaline as you heard familiar screeching.
The disturbing sound grew closer, rushing you into the locker and slamming the metal doors shut. Pure trepidation shook through your hands as they remained welded to the door handles. Sweat dripped from your forehead. The noise got louder. Your throat closed in.
You waited.
Waited.
Silence.
In a quick moment, the doors you held rumbled violently — unrelentlessly. This was nothing new when dealing with Pandemonium. Its decaying eyes bore holes through the gap into your own, enraged and hungry. Hungry for more. Pained grunts slipped through your gritted teeth, tightening your grip on the doors with everything you had. You refused to let this run go to waste.
It shrieked louder, angrier, nearly tipping the locker over in unbridled rage. This was new.
Something was wrong.
The irony wasn’t lost on you, everything about this was wrong, but its behavior was off. Pandemonium was driven with more fury than you had ever felt it.
Your eyes widened; petrified.
Between the time it was haunting the halls — looking for you — and spotting its prey, something must have ticked it off into a state of rampage. It shook you to your core. Quite literally too, every limb in your body trembling like a leaf, threatening to give in and crumble beneath you. But you wouldn't let yourself. Not now.
The locker shook again. You tightened your grip through sweaty palms. The creature screamed like a banshee. You panted in quick bursts and felt hot tears on your cheeks. Don’t give up, you thought. Not now.
Claws that you hadn't even known Pandemonium had shredded through the right door, deeply nicking your bicep in the process. A pained cry ripped through your throat, “Fuck—!” , stuttering the panic attack that had accumulated from the moment you entered the locker. But you held on.
A dent was shoved into the locker, crumpling it slightly inwards. Blood seeped from the gash on your arm. You were so close to giving up. A piercing ringing shot through your ears. This had to be it. A few more seconds and I’ll–
As fast as it came, it made its exit.
Deafening banging and thuds came to a halt. Screeching descended through the facility. Stillness hung in the air. Patience ran thin in these underwater mutants, you came to that conclusion numerous runs ago.
Before you could ponder how your legs managed to keep firmly upright this entire time, they collapsed easily, causing you to stumble out of the locker and tumble onto the floor. Dull pain seared through your kneecaps, having taken the fall. You hissed through gritted teeth. As you sat up shakily, taking in the dead silence of the halls, all your attention was now pinpointed on the gash brutally marred into your arm — and the pain it brought. Crimson seeped beneath your sleeve. The more you sat with it, the heavier the pain grew.
It didn’t help your panicking either. Being brought to death in a dreadful loop, dying horrifying deaths no one should be subjected to, and gaining trauma like it was eating candy unfortunately had an effect on you, and every other soul sentenced to the underwater facility. You silently cursed every person and their motives working for Urbanshade.
One movement after another, you stood, wobbling and firmly cradling your wounded arm to your chest as a makeshift sling. Your gaze flickered to the locker you were once in; or rather, the aftermath. Had you not made it out alive, would your current state resemble the locker before you. Chills painfully spread across your back.
Slow, trembling steps took you further into the premises, paced hyperventilating breaths leaving your raw throat. The tears stopped, but you were premeditating its start once you found a safe place to rest. Dull thuds reverberated around each room you went through, the metal grated floors emptily echoing. It must have been ten more doors you thought, until you craned your head back and located where the drips of blood had started — two doors behind. This injury sure did take a toll on your haste.
Dizziness creeped in on your head, you figured it was the blood loss, but the immense pressure you had just gone through made you unsure. Perhaps it was both. You were starting to miss the unpurchased medkit from Sebastian when you had the chance. You were starting to miss him too. Not that you’d tell him that though.
Soon, you reached the door ahead of you. The brightly lit sign just to its right, read 58. The neon vibrance in the pitched room intensified the throbbing in your skull. Your eyes clenched, as did the grip on your bloodied arm, as you wobbled into the unknown room.
It was dark, but the sound of your distressed pants and whimpers reflecting off the walls allowed a sort of echolocation navigation. Chilled air filled the expanse as you trekked further, the area expanding from a simple hallway into a wider space, raised platforms held by thick cables along the walkway. You tread slowly, staring into the abyss beneath.
In the distance, an open doorway sat between the path to the next door, dim industrial lighting spilling from the frame. Any chance of a resting point was a chance you were willing to take. Straying off the path, you carried yourself closer to the corridor. More sullen light filled your view, reflecting off the worn linoleum tiles that took over the flooring. You breathed.
Your boots met the tiles of the once public bathroom facilities, the quelled sound bluntly thudding. The stuffiness of the room brought some sort of comfort. But you couldn't let that sit for long, lest a wall dweller chose to grace its presence with yours. You eyed the walls for sketchiness.
Almost certain that the walls were trustworthy, you scuffed past the line of stalls and slumped in the last one. You caught a glimpse of your appearance in the mirrors lining the walls in the corner of your eyes, frown deepening. The pain almost matched the one radiating from your arm.
You clicked the rusty lock shut before you sagged against the wall between the toilet and the door. The lock didn’t necessarily serve a purpose considering your solitude, but it was a habit woven into your being. One before Urbanshade was even a thought. For now you sat, your back pressed against the cool wall, legs strewn across the floor. You heaved. Even a movement as tame as that brought a dull ache to your arm. You almost forgot about that.
Dealing with an infection down here wasn't something you were willing to do. Your Urbanshade-branded jacket was shrugged off around the strapped bomb with feeble movements, not without a few hisses of discomfort. It was splayed to the ground with little concern. Now that your arm wasn’t concealed, you were able to take a good look at your injury. In short, it was dreadful. Blood, whether dried or glistening, was smeared along almost the entirety of your bicep. It had dripped down your elbow too. It wasn't bone deep thankfully, but the gash was long enough to require at least a roll's worth of gauze. “Just my fucking luck,” You grumbled.
All your inventory contained was a few batteries, a half-used flashlight, and a code breacher. Essentially nothing that would help in place of a medkit. Instead, you took your jacket and wrapped it around your arm as best you could in your dire situation. Pursuing the medical field didn't seem so bad now. A half-hearted sob broke your silence as you tightened the bloodied clothing article, tying a knot using the sleeve to secure it.
The pounding in your head took its time coming to a stop, throbbing in sync with the rest of your body. It hurt. Everything hurt. This run felt different, more exhausting. More drowning. You laughed at your internal pun. After being alone confined in the restraints of Urbanshade for so long, you learn to be your own escapism too. But it was only a matter of time until you wished to escape from that too. If you guessed when you would reach your breaking point after being trapped in these depths for so long, devoid of any true human contact or sunlight, It’d be now.
It seemed as if everything around you was melting away into nothingness, fuzzy and warbled, like a disconnected television. Noise and grain surrounded your head, empty and shallow. It blurred your vision with tears, one after the other until it was a steadily flowing tap. Your cries began as soft whimpers and hiccups as you closed your eyes. Then you stopped caring. About who could hear. Where you were. Why it had to be like this. Why did it have to be like this? A rumble shot through your head as your eyes clenched tightly, guttural sobs and pants racking from your throat. Your boots squeaked against the cold tiles as you hiked your knees up to your chest, mindful of your slung arm.
A heavy, annoyed sigh left your lungs. Annoyed that you were upset. Upset about what had happened to you. What is happening to you. Was it as horrible as you made it out to be? More choked cries exerted from you, like a wild creature in the heart of a forest who a hunter had struck; the bullets singing the songs of choirs above. Your idle hand clenched your shirt over your heart, feeling the rapid breathing of your lungs. Still, even though you were most likely alone, past experiences kept your wails to a minimum. Your teeth gritted in attempts to jail it, only making it harder.
Then, you slipped up. You went for a deep exhale and let a loud sob crack through. After that, another one, then another, until it was a rhythm of strained weeps and sobs. Unrelentless. The last time you let yourself bawl like this was the night you were wrongly accused and sentenced to prison. This prison.
Your heartbeat stuttered in suit of your sobs, the pounding filling your ears. You wailed hopelessly. Just a bit more wallowing in your despair and then you'd be fine to carry on. You'd get up, enter the following room, and make yet another empty attempt at reaching the crystal and leaving this hellhole for good. Whenever that will be.
Countless daunting ideologies of an escape from eternal damnation spiraled you further. The dingy stall felt deafeningly quiet. Choked whines bubbled out, the feeling of your throat closing in strangling (Figuratively and literally.) It felt like you were dying; maybe you’d prefer that. Darkness shrouded, accompanying your strained, panicked breaths as you fell deeper, the thick air growing because you couldn’t breathe, and—
Loud thuds grew closer from outside, knocking you back into lucidness. It startled you but reeled you back to shore. Perhaps back to danger. The shuffles of the movement told you it was of a large creature. But there was breathing. Not decomposing screeches, or gargling clicks, but normal breathing.
Only when the sounds met the way to the bathroom did you realize you were still gasping for air in stuttered sobs. As hard as you tried to shut up, loud hiccups and deep-chest pants forced their way out of you. The presence of whoever was outside the stall eased you, to an extent, now knowing it most likely wasn’t a threat. But someone nonetheless. That was the remaining fraction of your frigidness.
Teal-hued scales and worn buckles could be seen in the gap beneath the door once you fluttered your eyes open; surely red and puffy by now. The shaky sigh of relief that left you was nearly as loud as your previous cries.
“Sebastian? What’re you doing down here?” It was hard to speak normally after two panic attacks, your voice trembling and out of breath. You scratched your collarbone. The grime that gathered under your nails made your dream of a warm, relaxing shower grow.
It was odd that the shopkeeper would travel to these depths, out of his shop’s vicinity, but you figured it was more rare to find him scavenging items rather than actually going out. Still, it was a first. “The usual.” Sebastian sighed. “Ran out of batteries and figured the wares needed a restock. Are… are you.. Okay?”
Emotions clearly weren’t his forte. It was nice that he was trying, though. The question would be easier to avoid if you weren't still heaving and choking on shuttered inhales. Damn you diaphragm. “Yeah no I’m— I’m okay. Don’t let me waste your time.” Tears welled at the pure falsity of your sentence.
Sebastian’s weight shifted closer to the locked door. “I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t want to.” He scoffed. The glow of his esca radiated off of the ceiling and onto you. Never once was it not mesmerizing. “Now unless you’re pissing, I don’t want to keep talking to a door. Open up.”
Just the mere picture of someone, Sebastian, walk— slithering in on your situation was stressful enough. And embarrassing. “I— No, no, I’m okay. I don’t need help.” I don’t need your help, was a thought forgotten. The pace of your breathing picked up once more.
“I’m not gonna repeat myself. I smell blood.”
Fuck.
Because of course, Sebastian would also have gained the incredible ability to sense blood after gaining countless abilities from countless sea creature’s DNA. Of course.
Why having Sebastian see you like this was a problem, you couldn't find the answer (you could), but it filled you with dread nonetheless. You’d never been discovered in a state like this before and you weren't planning on breaking that record now. “Sebastian it’s fine, I’m fine, seriously, I’m,” The last word of your sentence before you cut yourself off raised to a whimper, almost like you were about to cry. Again. So much for growing a pair down here. Attempt number two, “I can deal with this on my own.”
Well. If that didn’t reassure you, it certainly didn’t do the same for Sebastian.
“You don’t have a medkit, I know that because you ran into me with only enough data for a flashlight. I’m not stupid.” With the way he exhaled, you could vividly picture him pinching his flattened nose bridge. “Unlock this door before I change my mind.” A large, clawed hand rested atop the edge.
“No, please just— just go away Seb,” Your throat squeezed, “I can’t—”
“I’ll break it down if I have to.”
The sound of your harsh hyperventilating returned to the bathroom's atmosphere. “It’s not worth your time, for god's sake Sebastian, just—” A sob easily cut through both your words and the tension of whether or not you were sitting here crying before the fishman ran into you. You were. “Leave me alone!”
A borderline-growl groan could be heard from the other side of the door. He was going to break this door down, wasn't he? The logic was against Sebastian’s own argument too, he could have abided by your wishes and went on his merry way. He could have just left. For any other expendable, he would have. But he couldn’t treat you that way. Not when you showed him sympathy and care from authentic kindness, not pity. Not for transactional benefits either. You treated him like someone worth that treatment. Like a person. Even when he responded like a bitter asshole. The shopkeeper had no choice but to return the favour.
With little effort, almost too little, Sebastian braced his shoulder against the lock side of the door and bludgeoned against it until it swung open, brutally slamming into the wall adjacent to the hinges. The sounds of your quick and uneven panting were what confirmed his choice, not that he knew why (he did know), but it felt wrong to let you continue drowning the way he did. All of this was confusing him. Concern wasn’t something he knew he still felt.
Goosebumps raised across his skin at the sight before him — you, curled up and tangled with misery, bloodied and bruised, and what he could only describe as the most fear-ridden look in your eyes. In anyone's eyes. One that brought him back to the moment when he awoke from that cruel game of Operation. Sebastian’s eyebrows furled; frustrated. On one hand, the shopkeeper had a stone-cold reputation to hold up, to trust nothing and no one. He learned that a long time ago. On the other hand, you earned that trust by treating him like a somebody.
And the way your entire body racked with aftershocks, heaving and struggling for air with every breath, the scene didn’t help. He huffed. To hell with reputation.
Right now, cleaning up that ghastly wound was the first step; Sebastian would calm you down later. Especially when it seemed that having eyes on your most vulnerable and exposed state made your panicked frenzy worse. He wondered how someone could be willing to aid others but be against receiving the same treatment. Okay, maybe he was a little hypocritical.
“You know, you make this so much harder than it needs to be,” He muttered, grumbling with faux annoyance. The coat that was haphazardly tied around your upper arm was removed with unexpected carefulness, two large hands supporting your arm while the third hung idly. Upon exposing the wound to the air, Sebastian sighed. Again, he wasn’t sure why he’d come to your aid, you’d most likely die again after this and return to the never-ending loop of meeting your demise. Surely, it was a lost cause. But that didn’t stop his hands from moving to the medkit strapped to his body and unlatching it open.
A quick rip sound met your ears. You tore your gaze away from your arm to the movement before you, watching Sebastian tear a long strip of gauze along with sterilizing alcohol. The material of your undershirt strained as you continued to grasp at your chest — your gasping seemingly refusing to cease.
Sebastian’s focus broke from the task at hand, ears twitching towards the heightening of your heart rate. Your pained expression as you helplessly looked for an anchor to ground to tightened his chest. More than he would like to admit. Thankfully, he had enough faith in you that you wouldn’t mention the third arm that reached for yours, grasping it firmly against your flinch as his calloused thumb met the surface of your palm. He waited until he felt your hand curl around his. You couldn’t bear to look at him, though. Not when your tears flowed harder.
The warmth of his hand shocked you because you could have sworn that the rest of his scale-sheathed body was chilled. Biology was weird, especially when it included a whale-shrimp-angler-something creature (you knew this from the one expendable that recalled the time they stole Sebastian's file right off the table, granted a limited reading time before Sebastian threw them out—) and dual-wielding body temperatures.
Attempts to pull your uninjured arm out of Sebastian's hold to cover your face were futile — he wouldn’t budge. It was embarrassing enough for him to tend to you, but watch you cry? Uncontrollably? Part of you figured it would have been better to lose hope quicker in that locker than to live this. “Just— ugh, I don’t want you seeing me like this. I’m not supposed to be like this, just leave.”
“Well now’s your chance to be seen.” The glare he gave you was enough to be felt, nevermind that your eyelids were adhered shut. “You think I would do this for just anyone? Go buy a lottery ticket while you're at it.”
That got you to crack an eye open.
Your sight flickered to the floor, realizing there was more blood than you thought. Maybe it was the blood loss that had you hearing things from Sebastian.
Still, you didn’t look Sebastian in the eyes. You couldn’t. “Well I— No, I can’t do that to you,” A headache emerged from shaking your head. “This whole, well, everything, is hard enough as it is for you and I’m here making it worse. Don’t let me be another burden.” Sorrow thickened your voice. “I’m sorry.”
Once again, you shut your eyes.
Nervousness bubbled up in your gut when you were met with silence. Did you say something wrong? It would be easy to decipher what went wrong if Sebastian’s hand still wasn't hooked to your wrist like a vice. Only now did you realize his thumb had been monitoring your pulse while tracking your body language. Smart bastard.
Worried you had, you swallowed, opening your eyes with slow blinks to see why the air had fallen so still. Blue, glowing eyes met yours with an unreadable stare. The shopkeeper was sitting in front of you, as best he could with his body.
Breaths held still until Sebastian sighed. “Urbanshade owes us an apology. You don’t owe me one, and I don’t owe you one. We’re trapped in this shithole because of their corrupt, inept actions.” His fingers twitched against yours ever so slightly, careful of his claws. “Not yours, not mine.”
Sebastian’s head swam with the last thing you managed to ramble out. Even when you were in distress, regard for him was priority. You were more concerned about holding him back than tending to your needs. The fact that it took you little to no time to formulate that sentence meant you worried about him prior too. That was a notion he’d have to get used to.
Every word Sebastian spoke rang true, leaving no room for disagreement. Yet, even in truth, the weight of your guilt lingered. You nodded quietly anyway, your face resuming its scrunch of sadness. The moment couldn't help but remind you of being consoled by a teacher as a young child; the times when you had to be reminded that a conflict between peers, or parents, wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.
“Stop thinking up there. It won’t help you right now, trust me.” Sebastian’s voice broke through your thoughts, bringing you back to the inevitable present. Until the shopkeeper was certain you were lucid enough, he continued his administration with the medkit's contents, first sanitizing the area of your wound. His eyebrows twitched at your winces.
For a guy with huge proportions and even huger hands, Sebastian’s movements were gentle as he tightly wrapped your arm with the strip of gauze he had torn off earlier. But he was careful not to tie it too tight, reminding himself that you were a normal-sized human. When he was finished to his best extent medical-wise, his thumb softly grazed his work across your bicep — the action continuing from red, splotchy bandages to skin. Your eyes flickered to his touch.
Warmth filled your chest, momentarily blinding you from your other senses. Sebastian wore a face of irritation, sure, but it didn’t seem all that convincing. When he realized that your look lingered because he lingered, he jerked his hand back and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Nervously, almost.
The intense focus you had on Sebastian patching you up forced your tears to a stop, only stuttering breaths and post-sob hiccups. Wetness uncomfortably dried upon your jaw and neck. A trembling quake continued in the hand holding the few fingers you were able to fit in your grasp. And yet, you couldn’t meet his eyes. Shame added to the redness of your face.
And he could see that too, the way your gaze flitted anywhere but him, a sheen layer of sweat coating your hands despite its coldness, and your chin wobbling. The second attempt you made at escaping his hold on your forearm yet again failed. He needed you to look at him.
And you did, completely puzzled as to why he just wouldn’t let go. And not just his grip. You rasped, feeling your feelings being cornered with nowhere to turn to. Seemingly hooked together, your eyebrows mirrored his. “What?”
He scoffed, incredulously, as if the answer was clear as day. “What? Seriously? You’ll be fresh meat to these monsters if you don’t calm down.” A thumb returned to the pulse point on your wrist.
A scoff left you in turn. “Am I not calm?” It was almost funny how easily you said that alongside ragged heaves filling your chest. The soreness of your throat hadn’t left your voice, either.
Okay, guess not, you thought, after receiving possibly the most fatal glare to exist. You rolled your eyes, like a dramatic teenager who had just been caught with a pack of Marlboro’s. I’ll die anyways, it’s not like it matters.
“Breathe.” Sebastian urged. “What happened out there?”
“Nothing, just,” You sighed through sharp inhales, with a gesture of your hand towards nothing, “Pandemonium had gone more haywire than usual and nearly crashed my locker over. Just startled me.”
Something deep inside Sebastian told him that Pandemonium wasn’t solely responsible for your current state. The look in your eyes swam with more than just fear. Clearly, it wasn’t a topic you were willing to share, so he wouldn’t push for a full answer. Yet.
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, mind of his esca. “Haywire, huh?” A few more moments of audible thinking passed until his expression went slack and the hand submerged in black hair tightened. “Ugh, shit. ”
“What? What’d you mean ‘ugh, shit’ ?” The look on your face went anxious, eyebrows crinkling. Your voice raised in the sudden trepidation. Sebastian’s second main hand joined the other in clutching his hair and slipping down to his face. This movement forced his third hand to slip out of your hold. Disappointment swarmed sourly in your gut. For some reason. Your now empty hand clenched at the loss, unknowing that Sebastian caught that in the corner of his eye. He didn’t bother saying anything.
An annoyed groan could be heard through the claws caging Sebastian’s face. “Before you came around here, a group of expendables, all of which who were holding flash beacons, rounded in my shop before continuing through the facility,” He explained, pinching his nose bridge. (Or, what was left of it.) “A few minutes later, I heard a loud, high-pitched revving as if all of them went off—”
“They collectively flashed Pandemonium. ” It was your turn to facepalm.
He nodded. “Yeah. That would explain the numerous screams following that. And considering the amount of eyes it has,”
“They sent it into a manic frenzy. Which could cause it to appear more than once.” You finished Sebastian’s sentence again. The two of you sighed exasperatedly. How people could be so idiotic, you hadn’t got a clue.
“Exactly. Huh, you put out to be a lot more intelligent than I took you for.” He reveled, sounding both impressed and typically snarky.
Normally, the backhandedness of the comment would have irritated you, but the return of everyday bickering lifted your spirits a little. It was familiar ground. Scoffing playfully, “Oh really? Says the guy who thought he could fit through a vent and got stuck for half an hour.” You bit your lip to suppress tempting giggles at the memory.
“Hey, you said you’d keep it between the both of us.” Sebastian retorted and crossed his upper arms, tone sounding peeved but the half-smirk on his face completely disagreed. Whether it was because of frisky banter or your grin, or both, neither of you would know.
You laughed in confusion, “Are we not the only ones in here?”
The answer you get is Sebastian's ear twitching towards a clicking outside the stall, down to the entryway of the bathroom. He grips the front wall with a hand, peeking his head out and shooting an unamused expression. “Get out.”
More confused, you shift across the floor to get a better look, pivoting your head out the doorway. A wall dweller stood there idly, frozen in movement — it must have realized the victim it sensed came along with someone unable to prey on. The creature stared at you both in silence before it retreated, scurrying out dejectedly. So your previous concerns weren’t completely fruitless.
You snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. A small chuckle could be heard in front of you, triggering your own louder giggles. As your fit of laughter died down, so did your panicking.
Sebastian huffed a laugh. “Well would you look at that, someone’s finally calm.”
It took you a moment to realize he was right. You weren’t wheezing or panting, or anything of the sort — no longer choking like a fish out of water. Only then did you come to remember what it was like to breathe evenly, and how lethargic the anxiety made you become. “I was calm the entire time.” You grumbled, yawning.
“Whatever you say.” A hand reached out to you, silently offering help to stand up. “C’mon.”
You accepted the offer, graciously, albeit puzzled. “Where are we going? I thought you liked to venture alone.” With stiff legs you stood, firmly holding his hand as leverage. Random places in your back popped after being hunched for so long.
“The shop, duh,” As if it was obvious. “This whole Pandemonium fiasco won’t be blowing over anytime soon.” Sebastian hesitatingly released your hand, maneuvering his way out of the stall, mind of his large tail. “Only a few doors back.”
That statement didn’t necessarily ease your question. Why was he letting me stay in his area? He hates people prolonging their stay. Do I not have the possibility of dying again? What was the point?
“Hey.” You felt a claw flick your forehead. “Are we going or not?” It seemed like all the creatures down here had limited patience.
“Ow— yes, jeez.” A poorly attempted intimidating glare was sent Sebastian’s way. You supposed after being here for so long, the ability to be scared lessened. Certainly not the ability to scare, however.
You shuffled out of the stall, cradling your injured arm and following Sebastian from behind. It felt tranquil to roam these halls with a giant, fishman bodyguard. He turned his torso whilst moving, sending a quick look at you as if to check that you were still alive.
Now that you thought about it, you’d never seen how Sebastian moved. He’d always been cooped up in the confines of his shop, motionless for the expendables shopping for tools. You took in how naturally his torso moved with the rest of his body, and how his tail created balance and stability. It was sort of fascinating. But he seemed to hold back his true speed quite a bit, slithering at an even pace parallel to yours.
Could he sense your eyes tracing his form? Definitely, but he chose to bite his tongue.
“Why bring me back to wait?” You pondered, cocking an eyebrow. “I’d just respawn if I die.” Now walking alongside Sebastian, you craned your head to meet his gaze.
He continued looking forward, squinting his eyes. All three of them. “It’d be worthless to even attempt to survive out there. Do you want to rest or not?”
Well, you did tell yourself how lousy he was at the whole emotion thing. Being given an inch and running a mile with Sebastian wasn’t an option, you noted. “Alright, alright.” You backed off, raising your one arm in the air. Out of the rest of the hopeful prisoners down here, you supposed you had gained more leeway with Sebastian; something you couldn't take for granted.
A dim, ajar vent soon came into view. You wondered to yourself why there wasn’t any light coming from Sebastian’s shop, then quickly remembered that Sebastian was the light source. The shopkeeper entered the vent first, quietly grunting his way through with a struggle. These vents weren't made with the idea of a sizable fishman in mind after all.
With a pained grunt, you followed and lowered to your knees, beginning to trudge through the enclosed space. Not without hissing every time your banged up arm scuffed up against the vent wall. Since your other arm was forced to suspend it, it was difficult to crawl even an inch through. Balancing your kneecaps against the hard metal wasn’t doing you any favors either. Safe to say, it was not the most pleasant experience.
It didn’t last for long though. An annoyed exhale could be heard from the other side before claws reached in above your head and clasped around the nape of your undershirt. You were tugged out the remainder of the way, letting out a surprised oomph at the sudden action.
He now held you in the shop, just a few millimeters off the ground to allow you to step down to the concrete on your terms compared to tossing you like a sack of potatoes. You hadn't misbehaved to be deserving of that in the past, it was what you’ve seen other expendables receive. Sure, it was a bit of an ego feeder, but the simple notion of acting kind to Sebastian being a rare circumstance upset you. Odd, how much of a chore it was to the others.
You dusted your shirt off, muttering a thank you. Being invited to the shop instead of data trading purposes felt different. A little weird, too. You stood awkwardly, scratching your shoulder as you looked around the familiar room. No one’s ever gotten this far, you thought. His folder didn’t include what to do in this situation.
“Here, here,” Sebastian leaned down and wrapped one hand around your torso, considerately, and picked you up, with one hand, “Jesus, you don’t have to look like I’m about to bite your head off.” He transferred you up to the upper level behind him, placing you down and handing you your bloodied jacket from earlier. Which you hadn’t known he remembered to grab from earlier.
Shivers surged through you as you took the jacket from his grasp; it only reminded you just how cold it was down here. The blacksite was located in the depths of the ocean, after all. You slid it on with slow movements. Another quiet thank you was said. “Are you?”
Sebastian cocked his head to the side with a deadpan. Secretly, he appreciated that you kept up with his remarks and played along. “We’ll find out when I get hangry. The room over here is used for extra storage stuff. Make yourself at home all you want, but be quiet. I don’t need any other expendables to know I’m providing free hotel services. Got it?” This, he was serious about.
“Got it. Thank you, again. Really.” What he’d done for you was more than what you expected, and deserved. Before retreating to explore the new room, you met his gaze with a heartfelt look.
Words seemed to pause in Sebastian’s mind. Like a deer caught in headlights, he just stared at you. Not in disgust, or confusion, just a blank stare glazing over his eyes. But it lasted no longer than a few seconds. He quickly shook his head, as if to reassemble what sentence he would say next. “Uh— Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” He muttered, with a wave of his hand, wearing another look of irritation.
That didn’t keep the cheeky smile from forming on your face. You turned around, entering the space that Sebastian always kept off-limits. A few item lockers here and there, stray documents, batteries, and a worn mattress could be found. Walls littered with deep scratches. Every thud your boots made reverberated around until you stopped at the mattress. It seemed stained, and tattered, but it was a mattress, nonetheless. Weight lifted off your chest almost immediately.
It creaked as you rolled onto it with a sigh, moving until you laid on your back. Any other position would have bothered your injured arm in some way. You shut your eyes, only intending to rest consciously, but the white noise Sebastian created talking to a person that you hadn’t even noticed walked in nearly knocked you right out.
Taking the time to relax made you realize just how tired you were. Every time you revived, your energy levels were reset, essentially rendering sleeping useless. But it tired out the spirit in you, growing farther and farther away from the last time you had fallen into a deep slumber.
The calm ambiance of the secluded room and the constant rumble of Sebastian’s voice seemed to lull you to darkness, the sounds blurring until they completely faded out.
You breathed.