Finality
By: Sapphire
Hoarse breathing. In. Out. Within the noise was a slight high-pitched rasping. His eyes were shut, his body, shredded, melted and maimed, remained motionless. He could do nothing but lie in the dark, and listen. Every breath sent shivers of helplessness and misery through him. Distantly, the thunder rumbled. His shattered optics lit up dimly but they were functioning well enough to catch glimpses of the flickering of lighting. The bolts of light shredded the blood red sky as the black clouds rolled on overhead, towards the bleak horizon. The steady, deep breathing picked up pace and became sharp, fast and desperate. A rising whimper met his audios and a pang of anguish grabbed him. He struggled to roll over on his side and face her. She lay on her back, her eyes partially open, her hands clasped over the gaping wound in her stomach. The rest of her was riddled with bullet wounds, veins of scratches littered her once gleaming and youthful body. Mech fluid was smeared over various parts of her. Some of it was dried, some of it was still shining fresh. Her chest rose and fell at a quickened pace and little gasps of agony escaped her lips.
"Sandy," he whispered.
She jerked as a blue energy wave shocked through her.
She cried out a short, abrupt sound and then let her body sink down. Her form slumped and her hand that had gripped so tightly over her stomach loosened.
"Sandy, don't give in," he tried.
Her head turned slowly, painfully. Eventually, she faced him, her expression of pain now tinged with melancholy and fear.
"I'm going to die."
"No-"
She stretched out her hand and touched his cheek.
"I'm going to die, and so are you."
He felt a wave of nausea punch through him. Fear gripped him for a moment and squeezed him into silence. Gradually, it subsided as he came to terms with what she'd said. She was right; he was going to die soon too and there was nothing he could do about it.
His arm slithered through the dust and rubble until his hand touched her side. She responded and wriggled slowly closer to him. Their bodies huddled together and he put his arm over her shoulders. He was damaged beyond repair and his systems were on their way to a permanent shut down, but he still had an hour or so left; she, on the other hand, was seconds away. They both knew this, they also knew, months before, that this would happen. It was inevitable.
Her breathing became rapid as she felt her body begin to grow numb and the pain in her stomach became hollow. Fear struck her with full force when she realized her moment had come.
"Don't leave me," she choked through a whisper.
He closed his eyes as sobs rose in his throat. He squeezed them shut, trying to block out the image of her dying body.
"I'm here. I won't leave you."
Her intakes were sharp and loud and very fast and she let out little cries of misery. Oh Primus, she didn't want to die. Primus, primus...no...please no.
An intense convulsion shook her and she clenched the dirt with her free hand. His eyes opened to see her lying tense in a spasm of death and pain, and then her body eased slowly to the ground. Her knees had been upright, pointing to the sky, but now they sank down. Her shoulders drooped and the hand that had been gripping at the wound loosened and fell to her side. She murmured softly, and died.
He watched her slip away and remained paralyzed for many moments after. His grief was toned down with the knowledge that he would not have to feel it for long. His gaze left her face, which was now calm and still with only faint echoes of pain, and he looked toward the sky. The black clouds rolled on. The rumbles were not thunder, but distant explosions. The flickers of light were not lightning, but laser fire and the clouds were dense collections of smoke and dust. The red of the sky was caused by the alarm lights of the surrounding city. It was a violent night and his last. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
This is how the world ends,
This is how the world ends,
This is how the world ends,
Not with a bang, but a whimper.
-- T.S. Eliot.