And I'm telling you now

[polyturtle]

Who| Sigma, Don, and the Three Musketeers Terezi, Karkat and Cuthbert.
What| Sigma makes a decision regarding Don, and the results are not exactly good for him.
Where| Second floor.
When| Week 4
Warnings/Notes| Death and violence.

Just a few more finishing touches.

Not only had Don managed to make the trap, he managed, with the parts found from the cars, the theater, and various other places, to make a set of remotes for disabling it. Only he, and whoever he deemed to give the other remote to, would be able to disable it without risk to their health, once it was on.

Quietly, he turned on the water flow on the fountain and then pressed one makeshift clamp of wires onto the battery. Even then, there was a shock. Good. He snapped the other on, quickly stepping back before he really shocked himself and caused damage.

There. The emergency supplies were safe. He could hear the buzz as the web of wires around the vicinity also sprang to life, warning any who would try and stick their hands in for the food within.

Smiling, he put the remotes in his nightgown pockets.

Not bad at all.

Comments

[tis_allgood]

Bert takes out some of the rocks he'd picked up and loads one into the catcher of his slingshot. He intends to cover Karkat and Terezi's backs as they retreat. He has to be of some use in this endeavor after all.

"Don't hesitate, I have you both covered."

[futilecycle]

Sigma feels something snap beneath his neck - the last of Terezi's attacks shatters his collarbone and brings him to the ground. The cyborg goes limp, falling flat on his stomach against the cold tile, his strength exhausted. It took every ounce of his will to keep himself awake, but even in the face of certain death, Sigma would fight to his last breath. So consumed by pain, he was barely aware that the blows had stopped and his assailants had fled. Sigma weakly turned his head to find Cuthbert leaving, and while the boy had not fought, he feels betrayal from this stranger he admired nonetheless. At last his cybernetic vision winks out as it did when death approached and Sigma closed his other eye, a strangled moan escaping his lips, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth.

Each breath was agonizing. His cybernetic arms, programmed to feel every bit like a real human limb, seared with pain before the split wires and nerves drowned in cooling fluid and he lost awareness of them. Unable to move and barely able to draw breath, one disgusted, self-loathing thought crosses his mind: Why had he done that in the first place? Sigma grit his teeth and bitter tears welled up behind his eyelid. He had promised himself to protect Howard and only Howard, but had forgotten in his panic, his impulsion to save as many lives as he felt he could. Now should the boy lose these games, as was highly likely, he was certain to choose death than to fight one more time in the Arena. Blaming himself, Sigma shook, forced staccato breaths standing in for sobs. He would die here, having accomplished nothing.

Or had it been nothing?

Sigma opened his eye and turned his gaze in the direction Donatello had fled. He blinked to expel his tears and stared, praying Don had managed to escape to where the others could not find him. Sigma wondered what would become of his body without the Capitol's hovercrafts, if some garbage collecting contraption would arrive for him instead. Finally he wondered what Don would do if one did not, if he would leave him mangled here if he returned for his supplies. All he could do as his consciousness faded was to put his trust in the other Tribute.