thearena | Carnage in the Caves

Entry tags:

Carnage in the Caves

Who| Participants in the bloodbath
What| Murder and mayhem ensue after the jabberjays chase people into the caves.
Where| Deep within the caves. This area of the caves cannot be broken into or escaped from until 24 hours have passed.
When| Over a twenty-four hour period beginning now.
Warnings/Notes| Violence, death, gore, etc. You have been assigned a target to kill, but you may run into other characters in the caves as well.

The jabber jays begin their screaming, driving you deep into the caves in an attempt to escape the cries of your loved ones being tortured, beaten, or killed. When the maddening sounds finally cease, you will find yourself trapped in a series of corridors and caves, sealed tight with no chance for escape. Luckily there are plenty of weapons and supplies at hand (machetes, axes, hunting knifes, swords, maces, spears, clubs, hammers, scythes, bows & arrows, food, water, clean clothes), but any delusions of good fortune are soon squashed when an announcer assigns each person a target and gleefully informs you that you must kill your target within 24 hours or else you will run out of oxygen and die.

Over the next 24 hours, you will be tasked with killing this person in any manner you can. You may also happen upon other unfortunate souls trapped in the caves, but be wary of befriending them down here. They're on a mission too, and there's no rules against collateral damage.

Good luck, and don't forget to put on a show.

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"Kurloz..." He rolls it around in his mouth almost reverently. He'd spent so long hiding his own name from everyone before Site B that he knows exactly how much this means. He almost wishes he still had so he could offer something of equal measure to his friend in turn. "I'll use it, if you want, or keep it for you."

He breathes out slowly, maybe a little easier for the coughing before but it still crackles in his chest as he exhales. Liquid in the lungs. Only a little now, but its a sign that he's running out of time. "I was 004 some time ago. Only family knew my name. It hardly makes it even."

He rests the side of his head against Kurloz's temple, a comforting gesture for both their sakes. It doesn't matter how many times you face a thing like that, it's always frightening. Terrifying, really. "You should know, since we're brothers."

And he means it. Not just brothers in arms, but family. Close family to watch for each other and do for each other. He won't be leaving, and he wouldn't be even if he weren't dying as well. He's stay with Kurloz here until the end because that's what family does. Woe be unto the Capitol who forged these ties, as they will be their undoing.

Of course that part he doesn't share aloud.

"We could paint the while tower." He smiles and swallows, fighting back another cough, squeezing Kurloz' hand in response to his thanks.

It brings a shiver and a smile both, hearing his own name. At one point, there'd only be one motherfucker in the whole damn world what knew it. Now, if he just asks, just tells, he can hear it.

Brother. Family. It's nice, that little reminder of what all he's doing this-- everything-- for. That little something what to hold onto. That goodness warm within. That what had been so elussive. Purpose and life and happiness.

There are so many things he wants to say. He wants to tell Albert how good it is to hear that. He wants to talk on off the colors the tower could come to be. He wants to tell Albert it's okay to use his name when it's being them two, or others what know it. He wants to say things he ain't got words for, but might be something like what Sam taught, that strange human platonic love for family.

But his thanking comes to be his last words, for when he breathes in to speak next, only quiet exhale follows. Distantly, he feels the squeeze, then his hand goes loose in Albert's. His eyes have closed.

Silence stretches between them, but it turns empty slowly as the life leaves Kurloz, Albert remaining among the sparkling crystalline ice formations and casted rainbows alone. There's no more noise here, just the sound of his own breathing in what's become his friend's tomb until they send the robots for his body.

With a small, very sad sigh Albert untangles himself from Kurloz's lifeless form, giving his hand another squeeze and a silent promise that he'll meet with him again after the Arena. "Rest well, my brother. I'll see you soon."

He starts to rise, arm clutching his injury and halted every few inches by the pain sparking through his body and forcing him to cough flecks of blood onto the smooth icy floor. He's glad Kurloz is gone for that, at least. He'd bled out, a slow and chill death but ultimately a more peaceful one than Albert knows he'll suffer drowning in his own blood as his lungs slowly fill.

Sam's moving as quickly through the tunnels as he can while still trying to be quiet. He's pretty sure he's lost Arya, but he's also pretty sure she's still going to be looking for him. He's got a few injuries from their, some that probably need medical attention, but nothing that's going to kill him. Yet. Apparently him not wanting to kill her doesn't extend the same way.

He knows that running off like this is only a temporary fix, but he's still hoping to find Albert and Clint and try to get the hell out of here.

So it's a hell of a relief when he turns the corner into an icy cave and spots one of them.

"Albert." That relief is probably obvious in his tone and expression for a brief moment, before it fades when he takes in the rest of the scene.

He comes to a dead stop, staring at Kurloz's body lying on the floor. "Tell me that ain't what I think it is."

"I stayed with him," his voice is watery and weak but he forces it steady to answer Sam, trying to suffer his own injury in silence out of respect for Kurloz's passing. The statement itself is one to assuage worry. Sam should know that Kurloz wasn't alone at the end.

"Are you alright?" He doesn't admonish him, doesn't make note about how they both went racing off in the name of people they care about. People they would die for. People Albert certainly is dying for now and if that's the spin he can put on it for himself then he feels a bit better for it.

It is a reassurance that at least Kurloz wasn’t alone in the end. Sam knows first hand the difference that having a friend there can make. But he still can’t take his eyes off of Kurloz.

“I didn’t even know he was in here.”

It’s not quite an admission of guilt, but it’s close. Sam’d left him alone when he went hunting with Albert. Even though Kurloz should have been fine, and Sam couldn’t have known that he would leave or what would happen if he did, there’s still the little voice that tells him that he shouldn’t have left him alone.

He shakes it off at Albert’s question, turning away from Kurloz’s body to zero in on Albert. “I’m fine, for now. Are you-” But he cuts off the question. Looking closely at him, he can tell that no, Albert isn’t okay. “Shit, let me get a look at you. I’ve still got my med kit stuff.”

Those fingers twitch. That body takes breath. There's a gargled clicking in his throat.

And then, the Initiate's hand goes forward, claws digging into the earth and scratching on stone, as that body seek pulling itself up. The next inhale is terrible sort of wheeze, just short of an ill keening. Blood spills on his legs, from the great gash in his chest, where the axe sunk in. For a long moment, there's just faint shuddering breaths, as what ever medical care Sam just tried to give is interrupted.

Then the peg leg scrapes along the floor, as slowly, the Initiate's body attempts to rise. His head lifts last, eyes no longer a warm honey-gold, but perfect glowing yellow. The indigo in his irises have washed out to something paler. They seem not to focus until they fall on Albert and Sam. The Initiate's head tilts at them.

Then, going back, an unearthly shriek fills the air. The daywalker lunges forward.

"It's not-" he freezes mid-refusal, much like he had when they'd heard the screaming that had lured him and Sam down into the dark. He has to focus to hear this time, listening intently, and then slowly turning his head, trying not to be ill as what used to be Kurloz Makara, their friend, Albert's family, drag itself to standing.

Albert's seen a lot of things in his time. He's seen Gods and aliens, genocide and murder most intimate, but nothing had compared yet to the sight of Kevin's razor teeth dipping into Jet's flesh at the end of the hell Arena.

But this comes close already.

It's painful to move so quickly, but Albert lunges at near the same moment as what used to be Initiate, shoving Sam out of the way and bringing his metal arm up to shield himself from gnashing teeth and clutching hands. It's too late for him now as it is, but Sam. Sam can still escape.

"RUN!"

Oh fuck this shit again.

This is the thing that had once been Luke lunging at him all over again, except this time Sam's looking at it happening to someone he cares a hell of a lot about.

If it hadn't been for Albert shoving him out of the way and trying to do face this himself, Sam might have froze for a moment. Might have hesitated when it came to defending himself against what used to be Kurloz, even clearly as this thing isn't him, even knowing what'd happened with Luke.

Even with his promise to try to take Kurloz out if he ever put his friends in danger.

But Albert is Sam's brother just as Kurloz is - was - is - and there isn't time for hesitation.

"Like hell!"

Like hell is he going to leave. Sam just takes advantage of Albert pushing him out of the thing's path to circle back around, swinging the club he'd grabbed back when he was first trapped in here at the thing's head.

The daywalker doesn't register fear like the Initiate would. The one what was made of fear has left, all what's remaining is hungry. But maybe there is just a little bit of Rage.

Teeth click and scrape on the metal, and the shrieking turns to something muffled, but doesn't at all stop. Those jaws open and close fast, like it can bite through the obstruction, like there will be blood and flesh beneath. But for all impotency there, it's claws can keep on a reach, and they try. They slash through the air, reaching to rip at flesh.

Sam's moving and it jerks back with a grunt. The snarl turns to another ear-piercing shriek, claws reaching out for Sam instead.

Until the club cracks against it's skull and another terrible crack follows with the twist of Initiate's neck. The daywalker collapses in a heap.

Albert grits his teeth and mentally asks God to save him from boneheaded heroic do-gooders. Of course, that's him too and he knows it, but it's easier to mentally fuss about that than it is to accept that he's fighting the raised body of his fried, that Kurloz had just been sitting there with him watching rainbows flickering across the ice crystals and sharing names.

This isn't Kurloz, he tells himself, this isn't Initiate, this isn't his brother, Terezi's matesprit. This is a monster, an enemy, and he has to keep its attention while Sam circles around.

Albert presses his arm into the thing's mouth, knowingly stepping in closer to those ripping claws but hoping to choke it or break some of its teeth. A claw catches his parka, shredding the front and sending lining and trails of fabric flying even as Albert fails to keep its attention and it turns to attack Sam. Only Sam is ready for it and the resounding impact rattles Albert near as much as what used to be Kurloz.

The beast goes down and Albert wastes no time, grabbing Sam's arm lest he try something else stupid and heads for the tunnels. He knows he's running on little but adrenaline and fumes at this point, but the singular thought of 'away' is what sustains him.

At least for a few yards.

By the third random turn down the tunnels, he stumbles and can't keep his feet any longer, collapsing to his knees in a coughing heap, blood from his mouth hitting the stone and ice floor and his breath bubbled and watery. Not to mention the gaping hole in his abdomen that only hasn't caused him to bleed out yet by grace of the tattered remains of his parka gumming it up.

"Are you.... hurt...?" he manages to wheeze out between lungfuls of fluid.

When the club connects, when Kurloz’s neck twists like that and he goes down, Sam flinches.

It’s not him it’s not him it’s not him.

He’s ready to go in again, give another blow to make sure the thing isn’t going to get up again, but then Albert’s hand is on his arm and he’s running and Sam sure as hell isn’t going to let Albert out of his sight again. Sam runs, turning away from Kurloz’s body to stay by Albert’s side.

When Albert stumbles, Sam’s there. He wraps an arm around Albert’s back, ready to haul him up and keep them moving, to all but carry him if he has to - until he notices the blood in Albert’s cough. Then he sinks down to his knees next to him.

Shit.

“Really, brother, you’re asking about me right now?” He shrugs out of his backpack, dropping it to the floor as he pushes gently at Albert’s shoulders, trying to get a better look at his abdomen. “Let me see, I got you.”

It doesn’t matter how bad it looks, he refuses to believe he’s too late.

"You could sti-" His breath goes out of him and he struggles to get it back in order to finish speaking. "Still survive this."

Sam may be in denial, but Albert's accepted his fate. Sam may well change his mind too once he sees the mess of Albert's stomach as he leans him back. Through the shredded, bloodstained remains of the parka, pieces of meat and stringy flesh can be seen to barely conceal the curve of intestines underneath. Muscle is raw and shines in the dim light of the cave, spasming here and there visibly as Albert is forced to settle against the wall. What he needs is a hospital, doctors, anesthesia, and surgery and even then he wouldn't be likely to survive. What can one pararescue with a med kit do?

He coughs and his torn open abdomen twitches with the action, blood flecking Albert's lower lip.

Sam goes still when he sees the full extent of Albert’s injuries. He’s seen worse; he’s even brought guys back from worse, but that was with a pararescueman’s equipment, and evacing them quickly to a hospital with a lot more high tech equipment. Stuck in the middle of a cave with no hope for any medical attention beyond what he’s got? Well, he’s worked miracles before, but this is a little more than a miracle.

His hand hovers over the mess of Albert’s stomach anyway, like he can somehow will it to heal. He can’t bring himself to voice out loud what they both know.

“My target’s a kid,” he says instead, voice quiet. He doesn’t expand on that. He figures he doesn’t have to for Albert to get what that says about his chances at surviving this.

He shifts a little so he’s sitting down on the floor as well and grabs at Albert’s hand, curling his fingers around it. “Jet get the chance to cook for you yet?”

"Th-then we're both screwed." He coughs, this time less violently, and settles with his fingers curled numbly in Sam's.

"Yes. Steak and potatoes. You taught him?" Because there's no way he could have improved that quickly without a teacher. Actually Albert was amazed he improved that quickly even with a teacher. His husband had many talents, but cooking was not one of them. In fact, his lack of culinary skills was often the butt of jokes among their family. Albert grins a little at the memory of overhearing Chang admonishing Jet's lack of interest, only to be met with the teen's declaration of cooking's not my bag, man!

"You did a good job."

Even now Sam's reluctant to admit it, but they are. The only other plan he'd had before was finding Albert and hoping that the two of them could put their heads together to figure out another way out of this, but that's... not exactly an option any more. He still won't say it outloud though. Instead, his hand grips Albert's just a little bit tighter.

"Yeah, brother, that was me. He wanted to surprise you." Sam grins back, shaking his head. "It was before last arena. Spent hours with him cooking potatoes, and then guess what shows up all over the space station? Thought about telling you then, but I didn't want to ruin it."

Edited 2015-04-14 00:13 (UTC)

"It certainly... was a surprise..." Albert's head lulls back, the cyborg having an even harder time breathing now but he tries to keep talking. This is all he has now until he wakes up again in the Capitol. He only regrets that he couldn't communicate to Jet what he set in place, that his husband, when the Arena's done and he's killed too, will wake up not in the Capitol with Albert but in the relative safety of District 13. He'd asked that other Barnes and he'd said he would do what he could but to Albert's tired mind, so weary from the Arena and addled from bloodloss, it's a certain thing.

And that's his life, isn't it? Always being left behind. Only this time it won't be as the survivor of the pair, it will be a necessary separation to keep Jet safe. That makes all the difference.

"I love him, you know." His voice is a damp whisper, interspersed with coughs as Albert's eyes drop closed and his fingers loosen then tighten again in Sam's grasp. "I'd do anything. I'm an ass, but that's true... at least..."

"I'm glad," he says, his smile holding on for a moment longer before it fades in the wake of Albert's silence.

"Of course all that's true. 'Specially the ass part." He swallows thickly, keeping his grip on Albert's hand tight. Like he can somehow anchor him there, or maybe just to give himself something to focus on so he doesn't start crying. "You're my brothers, the both of you, you know that, right? If I do manage to get out of here, I'll watch his back."

"Please, he-" he needs it is what Albert wants to say but it comes out as a painful gurgle, nothing dignified about it. He's already pushed himself to the limit and there are no more words he can force out, nothing else he can manage to say other than to choke.

He wants Sam to go, wants him to try and survive. After all, every moment he stays in one place is a moment closer to someone finding him here, helpless in grief and taking the opportunity to murder him.

But he also doesn't want to die alone, and that all too Human part of Albert wins out. He clutches Sam's hand as hard as he can, which isn't as hard as he should be capable of, and forces himself to pick his head up and look at Sam intently, trying to say with his eyes what he can't with his voice; even breathing is watery and painful, putting small flecks of blood on his lips.

Thank you, my friend, My brother.

Sam leans forward automatically, curling one hand around the back of Albert's head to help support him leaning up. One hand in Albert's and the other holding him up and he has to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment, as he tries not to see blonde or red hair tangled in his fingers instead of silver, as he tries not to let the different shapes of his grief blur together.

'Please don't leave me.'

But he can't ask him that. It's beyond either of their controls, now. All Sam can do is force himself to open his eyes, to meet Albert's gaze and remind him that he's not alone.

"I will, Albert, I will. I'd do it just for him, because he's worth it, but I might as well make the promise to you."

'I'll do better by him than I did by you and Kurloz and Nat and Riley.' Riley shouldn't be in there, he shouldn't. He should be long settled, but hearing his voice stirred everything up.

No. He can't think about that right now.

"I got you. I got both of you, man, it's okay. It's okay."

Sam is suddenly supporting him and though it hurts to keep his head level even with that support, Albert leans into it, his forehead coming to press against Sam's as his eyes drift closed again. This is easier somehow, sitting here in the embrace of someone he's equally embraced as family. Easier and harder all at once and isn't it strange how large his family's gotten now?

At first it had been him, lost his traditional family in the way that everyone loses their parents eventually. Then Hilda, but he'd lost her too and himself in the process and thought he'd never find that support again, was resigned to never find it and remain alone to lament his existence.

But then the nine of them gathered around him, putting back the pieces he'd lost and abandoned all hope of finding, but in new places and new ways, healing the hurt and the biggest right at the center had been in the hands of an always reckless but beautifully insightful redhead with a smile like the sun. He'd lost them too, at intervals, but that one always seemed to come back.

And now there's this. There's Terezi, his adopted daughter whom he can't entirely explain his attachment to for cultural barriers but he dotes and adores her and revels in her cleverness and wants the world to be better for her. There's Venus with the same signs of damage in her that he carries, matching scars on people worlds and times apart that still somehow understand each other and nurture healing through shared pain. There's Kurloz, so haunted but so full of hope too even when he can't see it and he lets Albert guide him there, lets him share his own hope and instead of diminishing it grows in being shared. And Bruce with his mirrored weaknesses, Bucky with his mirrored experiences, Clara with her soldiering through and Steve with his inherent goodness that makes others want to strive for the same.

And Sam. Sam who he'd grown so close to in such a short amount of time. Sam who even if he doesn't understand will accept unconditionally, will see a mess of damage and emotional baggage as an entire person and not blame them for feeling how they feel because that, too, is part of the Human condition, the Mortal condition for all the Trolls go through it too. Sam who seems to be able to hold up the collective psyches of each of them and still be able to ask for help himself when he needs it, a feat in and of itself and one Albert's never been able to manage. But he would, he thinks. He would ask Sam for help, should have done before this when he had the chance. He's always been there with open arms, Albert's just always been too bullheaded to be able to show his damage in that way.

But he could, now. Sam is his brother and leads him straight and maybe after the Arena, when the source of brightness in his life is safely tucked away in 13 and out of the repeated hell and cycle of endless death that is the Neverending Quell... maybe when Jet is safe, Albert can speak freely and lay down the burdens he's carried for so long. Sam has already proved willing and able to lend a hand.

Family.

So strange how it grows even in the worst of circumstances. Or maybe because of them. That's when you find out, really. When you find out who will stand by you in the darkness as well as the light, and as the light grows dimmer in Albert's eyes he feels he's standing there with Sam as the darkness closes in. It's a strange feeling, almost out of body, but it's better than drowning in his own lungs.

"Th...ank...y..," is all he manages to croak, but the words are there regardless. The sentiment is there. Trust, fidelity, fraternity. Brothers not just in arms but in practice.

Albert's breath rattles liquid in his chest, coming out like static with pops and crackles as his weight grows heavier against Sam's support, but it grows quieter slowly, soon barely audible over the moving air of the caves themselves.

It's not long before the sound stops altogether.

Edited 2015-04-14 03:51 (UTC)

The fainter that breathing gets, the closer Sam pulls him. There’s no point in being gentle now, in taking care to make sure that he doesn’t make Albert’s injury worse - there isn’t a worse than this. By the time the only breathing that Sam can hear is his own, he’s got Albert completely in his arms, cradled against his chest with his face buried against Albert’s shoulder. He holds back his sobs, just a little longer, just a little longer because if he starts now, he might miss it when Albert takes his next breath, he can’t-

He can’t do this. Oh god he can’t, not with Steve dying in his arms last arena and Natasha a few hours ago and Kurloz a few minutes and now Albert, and there wasn’t a damn thing that Sam could do for any of them, he can’t. How the hell could he have ever thought he was strong enough to go through something like this all over again and come out even remotely in one piece?

Except Albert had believed in him. He'd said Sam could do it, that he could come back from something like this just like he had the last time. And somehow Sam had agreed, even though he knew how hard it was before. Even though right now it's hard to find that, it's hard think that Albert was right to believe in him.

But he has to do it. He has to. He can't let Albert down more than he already has. So he lets go, slowly lowering Albert's body to the ground. He stares at him for a long moment, then unzips his jacket and unhooks his falcon pin from where it's pinned to the inside.

Sam leans in, carefully pinning it to Albert's shoulder, and murmurs, "Give that back to me when we wake up in the Capitol."

Then he stands, pretty much on autopilot, and walks on into the tunnels of the cave.

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Carnage in the Caves

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cw: blood/internal wounds

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cw: gore

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