thearena | don't be afraid

Entry tags:

don't be afraid

Who| Nill and Karkat
What| A couple different things. Mostly meeting up and then dying, oops.
Where| Throughout the station.
When| End of week 2.
Warnings/Notes| Character death, gore, crying, and obligatory Karkat Warning™. There'll probably be another prompt for that stuff, or it'll just be one huge long thread.

To say that the Arena had been unkind up to this point would be an understatement. The first day hadn't been all that bad, generally speaking. For a few minutes she thought she might even survive long enough to make sure that someone she loved made it out of the Arena alive, to never enter one again. It was a goal. It was something to keep her going in an experience that she would rather have never lived again, even if it was better than sitting back with cigarettes and the Giant Wall of Child Death. She had found people she cared about. She kept them alive.

Even now, nearing the end of week 2, Nill would still maintain that being in the Arena was better than watching it. While close to a comforting thought, it could only do so much in the wake of all the deaths that occurred during Week 0, or the ones that followed it. It did little to help with the images in her own mind.

Being in Beth's head as she died, managing her pain so it was just a little bit less awful as she faded away. Watching Kurloz be cut in half in an instant. Seeing the face of a dark-haired boy in the stars. Kankri, Clementine, Davesprite, Gary; those were just the faces she'd seen when she had the willpower to look for them.

Despite all of that, Nill was holding her own well enough for a little while. She ate almost nothing, stuck to mostly water when she could find it. Once or twice she'd tried the dehydrated food, but she hadn't trusted it to do more than have it when she really needed it. She began to look gaunt and dehydrated, but it could have been worse. It remained that way until she found the Orb with the Initiate's voice, and it was all downhill after that. She'd cried out most of the moisture left in her system, couldn't bring herself to eat much of anything after it, didn't make a point of looking for water so much as just taking advantage of it if she came across it. Before the Mirth Core Nill still moved with purpose. She still looked like she might accomplish something if she tried. Now she mostly just looks miserable.

But hey, having to deal with an outbreak of Xenomorphs can do a lot to keep a person on their toes. They're not too hard to avoid right now, but it's tricky when they notice you, and Nill has had a few too many close calls this week. She leans her back against a wall, ignoring her wings entirely, so that she can actually catch her breath while keeping an eye on the halls around her, knife held tightly in her hand. The place was going to hell so much sooner than she expected from what she'd seen of other Arenas. How was it already this difficult? How had any of the kids she knew survived in other Arenas?

There was no way this could keep going for much longer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Right now she's not having any issues with breathing that couldn't be chalked up to exertion from their escape and pain, but the reason the tail didn't go all the way through is because it's lodged right under her ribs. Anatomy isn't her forte, but she knows that the lungs are under the ribs, and if the tail moved and hurt one of her lungs she'd probably be in more trouble from that than from the possibility of bleeding out.

Nill glances at the rope, considering it, before nodding her head in agreement. It does in fact look like something may have bitten at it at some point, and her arm is probably bruised underneath, but it's proved sturdy so far, and could probably be relied on for this.

"It should work. We won't find anything better."

If nothing else, the xenomorph was polite enough to aim for the side that was already not looking brilliant. So at least she doesn't have two bum sides. Though the movement looks stiff she lifts her hand to try and undo the knot in the rope, but her fingers slip, still slick with blood, and it only seems to frustrate her.

Karkat's own lung got messed up in the damage done at the Cornucopia, and it's only by Feferi's graces that it was undone. He's still sore around there, has been for a while, but it's faded into the other hurts and bruises and aches he's accumulated. He's a troll; he's made it well, if not the most easily.

The point is, Nill doesn't give him any reason to think the tail's pierced anything vital. Not like that.

As she fiddles with the rope, he crouches into a half-kneel, the better to put himself at the right level for helping her. But it's clear she's not handling the knot well, something that makes him frown in sympathy and a frustration of his own that they have to be in this mess at all. It's not at her, though; none of this is her fault.

"Here, let me..."

He tries first with one hand, but it predictably doesn't work well, and he has to add the other to the job. It makes him hiss a little as the texture irritates his burns, but really, it's not important compared to this. It's just a matter of patience and perseverance before the knot should come undone, making the rope workable again.

"Karkat, you don't..."

Him getting hurt just to help her is the last thing in the world that Nill wants, and without thinking about the blood on her fingers she puts her hand on his arm. It's not exactly to stop him, almost more contact for the sake of contact than anything.

"I've had worse than this. Don't hurt yourself."

And as far as she can tell, she has had worse. This hurts, but the scars on her back were worse, had her on the ground and nearly bleeding out after just a few minutes. She can still move right now. She still has the energy to get up, and that means she's had worse, for now. But the knot was tied with one hand, and though it was well done enough, it doesn't take too much to come apart. It's a pretty decent length all things considered, certainly enough to tie around Nill for how tiny she is.

"Nill, shut up," he says with a look upward. He doesn't remove her hand.

It's not the concern that bugs him. A hurt hand just isn't as important as dealing with a stab wound, even if he doesn't know the extent he should be worried. Once he gets the knot undone, he slips the rope off her arm, and looks between it and her injured side.

"Do you think you can pull the tail yourself? If I loop the rope around you I can tie it as soon as it's out."

The Capitol must be having a field day with the amount of talking Karkat's doing and the silence on Nill's end. Hell, for any conversation she's had this Arena, really. Most have been with telepathy, which leaves a lot to the imagination. It's not like his tone is actually harsh, and Nill doesn't at all look like she takes it that way.

She not sure if she can do it on her own though, and after a moment to steel herself she taps the tail sticking out of her a few times, trying to gauge the level of pain she'd been to deal with if she did it herself. It makes her shudder and her wings fold in against her back out of instinct, but she nods regardless.

"I've had worse," the voice repeats, same tone as before, same meaning. She could do it if she needed to. She's not sure she'd want to make him do it anyway, honestly.

His gaze turns judging as he evaluates the weight of her voice and the look of her wound. If there is one thing to benefit her doing it, it's that she's the one who can actually feel what she's doing, and what hurts where. He wouldn't want to do more damage by pulling it the wrong way. He nods, though a little reluctant still. "Okay."

He leans in, tucking his head to the side of her, so that he can loop the rope around behind her. Then he raises it up to hold just so at her waist, ends gathered toward one side. "Hmm..." He loops one around the other for the loose beginnings of a knot, then takes the end between his teeth, blood or whatever else be damned, so that his hand might go to the other side to help adjust the rope's position once the tail is out of her.

Obviously he can't speak, but he hopes the 'go ahead' intent comes through when he looks up and makes a noise through his teeth.

If nothing else, Nill's pretty sure she can manage pulling it out a little more easily than Karkat can, and certainly with less possibility of hitting her lungs. Even if there's a bit more room to work around there than she realizes.

She lets him get as close as he needs, not even bothering to hold her breath for once, and she tries her damnedest to relax, because it's probably the last few moments where she's going to have this low a level of pain for a decent chunk of time.

Nill manages a very small smile before she wraps both hands around the tail, already cringing, and then uses the extent of her strength to pull the thing out.

It's not pretty. It's not as fast as it could be, and he can probably hear the tail scraping against bone. But she manages it.

Karkat watches and waits, and once she starts, the process has him cringing too. It seems painful just to watch, with the slowness and the sounds. He doesn't know whether it's good that it's slow or not. Maybe it means more care to avoid further damage, but maybe it should have been done all at once like a bandaid. But regardless of should or should not, this is what they have to deal with.

As soon as she has it out, he sets to work. First he hikes up the side of the rope near her wound to cover it better, avoiding the area itself with his hands to avoid hurting her unnecessarily. Then he tugs the end his hand holds. His teeth serve as a stable point to help tighten it, and he works quickly to tie additional knots for security. It won't make it any easier to untie later, but he figures that's the least of their concerns in a place like this.

When finally he has it done, he lets go with his teeth and lifts his hands away. "There," he says, and he doesn't sound as confident as he wishes he were. If they had a better bandage it would be different.

Nill drops the tail almost as soon as it's out, but otherwise she does a good job of staying still until he's got the rope tied around her. One hand grips the wall while he works at it, half for something to grip now that the tail and her knife are on the ground, and half to make sure her knees don't give out.

That part only lasts about as long as it takes him to finish. She hadn't thought she'd feel so much shittier with the tail out but she does, and she really hopes that's just a product of needing to pull a xenomorph tail out of her side and not because it was poisoned and the poison wasn't spreading until after the tail was out.

She offers him a very shaky smile, and then using her hand to make sure it's not too abrupt, slides to actually sit down, leaning her shoulder heavily against the wall in an effort to put as little strain on the wound as she can. She lifts a hand to it, and the bleeding does seem like it's lessened a lot, though the color isn't much better now than it was before. Maybe that's a good thing.

"Can we stay here for a little?"

While she does a good job of keeping it off her face, it shows in the way her shoulders hunch, and her wings twitch every so often. It hurts, and though she knows they can't stay here for an extended period, she'd like to put off needing to move around with it for a few minutes.

Karkat pulls back some small amount when she goes to slide down, to make sure she has the room for it. He can't blame her. He might have dealt with stab wounds before without much trouble, but the doesn't mean they didn't hurt, and none of them had come after the hell they've been through in the arena.

"Yeah, we can stay."

He settles back against the wall himself, eyes turned out and ears alert. He takes his knife in hand - he set it down while he dealt with the rope - and keeps firm hold on it now. They won't get caught off guard again.

He doesn't ask her how it's doing now. It has to hurt; her body language makes it obvious.

She doesn't let them linger in that spot for too long. Nill stays where she is on the ground for a few long minutes, shoulder leaning against the wall, and when she adjusts to the pain and acclimates the best she can she pushes herself back up on her feet. She does a good job of keeping up with him for the most part, of hiding the pain and the severity of the wound, but her appearance betrays her.

It's been nearly half a day since the xenomorph attacked them, and the more time that goes by, the worse it gets. It might not be obvious to Karkat - trolls and humans have pretty different anatomies - but any humans watching will probably take notice of how her steps get progressively slower or the way the color has drained from her face, or how after awhile she has her teeth gritted with almost every step she takes.

For as long as she tries to just deal with it and keep going eventually it gets to be too much. She takes her next step wrong somehow, and it tugs the skin just so, and pain lances through her gut like electricity. The knife slips out of her hand when she tries to grab the wall to hold herself up, and Nill doubles over, wrapping her other arm around her middle.

It's not that Karkat fails to notice everything, but it's easy to write off. She's injured; of course she'd slow, and it's not some great imposition to slow down for her. Her paling face could be from a number of things. The grit of her teeth is easiest to miss, though, as his attention keeps outward more than on her. He can't let them get ambushed again.

It's fine. They can rest when they need and keep going. It's worked so far.

But it doesn't stop a sudden clatter behind him. Karkat turns when the sound hits him, seeing just in time as she bends, clutching at herself.

"Nill?" His focus snaps up around them, darting for sign of something or someone that could have attacked from a distance, but he sees nothing, hears nothing. "Nill, what's wrong?"

He dips before her now, gaze flicking between her face and her middle for any sign of explanation.

She tries so, so hard to shake the pain off, to breathe, but it's not working this time. She can feel her head pounding, the wound throbbing, and she's so, so cold. Her fingers feel like ice against her side, and Nill lifts her head so she can look at Karkat and try to reassure him, to tell him that she's fine, but it only results in another jolt of white-hot pain, and she doesn't understand how she can be so cold when it feels like her side is on fire. Her hand slips against the wall and she sinks down to her knees, trying and failing to will it away even as her eyes start to water.

"It hurts," She manages after a moment, a shudder going through her that mostly just manages to make her grimace more. She lets out a slow, shaky exhale, and doesn't lift her head.

His hands lift and hover as Nill struggles with her pain and ultimately falls to her knees. He doesn't know what to do, what to try, or what's even wrong, to the point that her eventual answer only garners a frustrated snap. "Well of course it hurts. You think I can't see this?" But it's not her he's mad at: it's his lack of knowing on all fronts.

He ends up settling his fingertips delicately at her shoulders, barely even touching, but feeling the need for some kind of contact.

"You should have said something." His voice is softer, worried. His head turns, looking off to either side of them. "Damn, I wish there was some water around here. What do you need? Just rest? What can I do?"

Nill doesn't think for a moment that he's actually angry at her, and the snap just makes her smile slightly, though he probably can't see it, and it's fleeting anyway. She's still mostly hunched over, but she tilts herself just a little so that she can rest her weight against the wall, use the muscles in her abdomen and back less. She switches arms, too, so that the one closer to him is free. Nill still doesn't lift her head, but it might make it easier for him to see her expression.

"I've had worse," she tells him again, because it's still true. It's just that when she did have worse, it never lasted this long. Usually she was in a hospital by now, or dead. Not walking around for hours after. She hopes it helps, knowing that, that she has felt worse than this, because she doesn't think anything is going to help with this next part.

"I think humans are a lot more fragile than trolls are."

She makes a vague gesture with the hand still wrapped around herself to her abdomen and chest, before she reaches up with the other to gently curl her fingers around his palm, hold his hand.

"Most of the stuff that makes us work is in that part of our bodies. I don't know what it hit, but it hit something."

If he looks at the wound much, he might notice where before the skin around the wound was pale and speckled with blood, now most of the pale color is gone. Most of her lower side has gone an ugly reddish purple color. Karkat probably won't know what that means, but Nill can feel the effects of it enough to make a vague guess.

"You need to leave, Karkat."

She's very, very slowly bleeding to death. It's just that most of the bleeding is on the inside, pooling under her skin and between walls, putting pressure on everything near it, and that's where most of the pain is coming from. It's agonizing and Nill isn't sure there's a way to actually fix that.

His hands move as she does, pulling back, then one resettling once she's leaned on the wall. He misses her smile, but it wouldn't have helped in the end.

The worry is thick in him still. Just because she's had worse doesn't erase how she's feeling now. His eyes search over her, judging her condition against her words, but that initial brush-off seems like such bullshit the more she goes on.

"Fuck," he issues, quiet, not thinking about it. His fingers finally leave her shoulder properly when she takes his hand; they curl back against hers. It's not that he doesn't know humans are weaker, it's just...

"Come on, no," he says with more volume. He's definitely looking, and the dark-colored inflammation or whatever it is looks far too troubling. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, don't tell me I need to leave. I--"

He looks from her wound to her bowed head, back to the way she clutches her side. His teeth dig into his lip.

Some stupid and hopeful enters his voice as he says, "You have mind powers, right? Feferi--I have this friend, Feferi, she can help. She has Life powers. She helped me; I would have died if she hadn't. You just, just push your thoughts or whatever the hell you do. She has to help. I haven't seen her in those constellations at night; she has to still be alive."

Why isn't he leaving? Why is he trying to make suggestions to save her? For one, irrational second, Nill is angry that it wasn't enough, that he's not doing what he should, what would probably be the kindest thing. But then again, if she had actually been kind about it, she would have made him see things. She would have made it seem like she was fine, and just projected an image, and led him away until she didn't have the energy to keep it up. It would have been better. He'd hate her for it later, but he wouldn't need to see this.

That's probably the thing of it though, isn't it? She knew she was going to die hours ago. But occasionally he'd say something to make her smile, or be worried, and it hadn't felt so bad, then. Her other deaths were terrifying, painful and miserable. They were so awful and so painful, and she always took people down with her.

Why couldn't she have figured out that she didn't want to die alone sooner?

And the thing of it was, if it had been earlier in the Arena, she might actually be able to find Feferi. But she's tried too many times to reach anything outside the Arena since she got here. Her head was pounding even before that monster stabbed her, and now on top of it she's dizzy and a little disoriented. Maybe if she knew Feferi she could manage it anyway, but she doesn't. It would need to be done the long and hard way, and that was exhausting even when she had all of her energy.

She shifts a little, straightens, a grimace settling into her features, but it lets her lift her head a little more, look at him more easily. It also makes it seem like the moisture gathering in her eyes was a result of pain, and not being close to tears. She actually manages a smile, but it's strained around the edges.

"I'm sorry. It's too much for me right now. I can't find her like this."

She gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, but you need to leave."

It makes him wince to see her struggle like this. Before it was easier because he didn't know; he wasn't looking, wasn't thinking. Humans are weaker but what's a stab wound? It's nothing, it's fine, it's easy, he thought, but it's become this bad and his wounds never darkened up and put him on his knees this way.

Why is she trying to smile at a time like this?

"Stop telling me to leave!" he snaps with a sudden burst of volume.

Terezi died, and the woman before died, and he doesn't want to go losing someone else because of some other fuckup he made. He doesn't want her to have to die at all, but he's already blaming himself on it. She hasn't even said death yet, but that's what this is, isn't it? She's not going to get better on her own. If she had that power he's sure she would have used it by now.

His tone pulls quieter as he begs, "Come on, just, just try. It can't be that hard, right? She has to--she has to be around somewhere." His head cranes, searching once more, but of course he can't see anything from here. "I didn't help you out just to let you push me away without trying anything."

She's not exactly surprised that he's not listening to her, but it makes this so much harder, and she's not sure how much more she can actually bare before she starts crying. She squeezes her eyes shut for a few seconds, and inhales and exhales slowly, though even that doesn't look pleasant. Whatever the exact thing that's killing her is, it's starting to feel like it's putting pressure on her lungs. Deep breathes are difficult and are probably just going to get more difficult.

"Listen."

She opens her eyes again to look up at him, trying to make sure that he understands, that this is important, that he knows just what their situation is.

"I wasn't born with this power. I didn't know how to use it for a long time. I did too much a lot, and it was too hard for me to handle."

For a moment Nill glances down at the hand against her side, the wound that still oozes fresh blood occasionally, still dark.

"When it was bad it knocked me out. Sometimes it was just a few minutes, but other times it was hours, and I don't have the energy to do it right now. I'm too tired, and everything hurts."

Her gaze flickers back up to him, searching, hoping beyond hope that he understand.

"Finding her means I need to go through every thought here because I don't know her. That's a lot even when I'm not tired, and I don't know if I can find her in time. I won't stay conscious if I do it now, and I'm still losing blood. I can feel it."

The feeling that edges it's way into voice in his head isn't exactly fear - it's desperation, but the two do tend to go hand in hand.

"If I try that I'll die before I wake up again. And if you stay here, waiting for me to wake up, one of those things will smell my blood eventually and I won't be able to hide you from it."

At first he keeps looking past her, stubborn as much as futile in his search for something to help. But she's looking at him, and who would he be if he didn't listen to her now? Reluctantly he turns his head back.

How she got her power he doesn't know, but those specifics aren't the important part, and he doesn't ask. He's already worried, but the dread in it pools up like thick syrup filling his insides. He feels sick as he comes to understand.

She can't find Feferi, it will make things worse if she tries, and that means she can't even try to get healed.

His second hand joins his first in holding hers.

"I'm not leaving. I can't just... go and let you..." Die. She said it, but he can't yet; it sticks in his throat when he tries. "You can't tell me you want to be found by one of those. You don't get to tell me this is your burden to bear when--when I'm the dumbass who didn't think to realize how bad this is. What kind of heartless asshole just leaves his friend like this?"

She doesn't. She really doesn't want to die by one of those things finding her - their mouths were terrifying but not huge, their claws were sharp but probably only good for an instant kill if they were lucky. Chances were if one found her it wasn't going to be a pleasant death, and it won't be the first time monsters try to rip her apart. It's not a good way to go, but she'd take that over passing out with the huge likelihood of Karkat dying because of it hanging over her.

"There are worse ways to die. It's going to be too dangerous for you to stay here."

And who knew, she might finish bleeding out before one found her. Or she could do something to knock herself out after she was sure he was gone.

"This isn't your fault."

There's a thick, sore lump forming in his throat, a prickle at his eyes, and it's hard to listen for all no real hearing is involved. She's talking about having him go so she can die alone here, and how is he supposed to accept that? But it's when she goes and tells him it's not his fault that tears finally slip past the edge of his eyelid.

"Yes it is," he insists with stubborn petulance. "I got stabbed like three times by this friend of mine and walked them all off, and I didn't stop to think maybe a tail from a monster is different than a knife and means something more to a human who's already weak from the arena."

It feels like an insult to put it that way, but the bluntness carries his meaning best. He didn't notice; he didn't consider.

"Two people already died because of me, Nill, and now you..." He rubs a knuckle at his eyes, leaving her hand to just the one again. "You can't make me leave. I don't care that it's dangerous. I don't, I'm not going to."

"The only one at fault for this is the thing that attacked us."

And President Snow, the Gamemakers, the people that set up the traps, the ones that released the monsters. There are so many other things this can be blamed on, so much so that she might feel nauseous if her stomach wasn't empty. But she mentions none of these, because Karkat is upset, and sometimes he says things before he thinks about them. She doesn't dare give him anything outside the Arena to spew vitriol at.

Her grip on his hand tightens a little, and Nill blinks back tears that have been threatening to fall for most of this conversation. Not yet.

"I don't want you to stay and die with me. I don't want you to die at all."

She'd thought that, just maybe, if she could just protect one person, they could get out. And if that person was Karkat it would be even better, because Karkat wasn't a killer, and these Arena's would take so much more from him than they would other people. And maybe what she's asking of him is selfish - maybe she just can't bear to see it, but surely there are worse things than this kind of selfishness.

"Please don't die here."

Part of him feels he deserves it, but still he argues, "I'm not dying here."

He looks from their clasped hands to her face to her wound, colored all painful and disturbing. He sniffs and blinks hard; he doesn't want to be crying, though he knows there's bound to be more.

"I have a knife. I can fight. I'm fine." He looks back up. "Don't make me leave you, Nill." His hand squeezes back. "I'm--I'm responsible for this. I can't fucking run away like a coward because, because it might be dangerous, not when you're hurting and can't even stand anymore. Who do you think I am? I've said it too many times: I'm not leaving."

No sobs clog his voice, but his tone creaks with the effort of making words past the hurt of this. He's so tired of friends always dying, of things going to shit, of his own inescapable mistakes. It doesn't matter that she's the one telling him to do it; leaving would still be running from things.

His head tips as he asks of her, "Nill, please."

"You're not responsible for this. You're not."

The desperation is still there, the need for him to leave, to at least know that he'll be safe when she sees him go, but this is a battle that she's losing quickly. It still hurts, everything hurts, and she can feel her heartbeat pounding in her temples, though she's sure it was never that soft before or that fast. The world tilts depending on where she looks, and Nill knows that she's dying, she can feel it.

But the ways she died before this were so awful, and this was awful too. She doesn't want to die alone again. She'd done some bad things after she left her world, some of them even awful things, but it's so unfair, and she's always hated being alone.

The tears she's been trying to hold back finally make their way onto her cheeks, and Nill's lips tremble as she tugs on his hand a little, to get him to look at her again.

"Promise. Promise me you won't die here."

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I'm thinking we can timeskip from here maybe?

sounds good to me! let me know if this doesn't work

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