Work Text:
There is a scalpel at Subspace's throat.
The pink-horned demon breathes heavily, as does Medkit, the inphernal who is currently millimeters from slitting Subspace's throat.
Maybe this is where bravado gets you. Or unethical experimentation, Subspace isn't sure.
'Ha!' Subspace gloated, shifting their head from the blade, 'You're really gonna try that one, Meddy?'
Medkit looks ill with hatred.
'I've had enough of this, Subspace.'
Subspace rolls their eyes.
'This? Knowledge? Science? Even if you don't care about any of that— the money! For deities sake, Meddy, you're joking with me today, aren't you?'
Medkit glares, inching the scalpel closer, 'You know that's not what I mean.'
They smirk in acknowledgement. Medkit really isn't backing down this time, are they?
Subspace weighs their options. They're unsure what to do in the situation at hand — seconds away from the receiving end of a murder.
So, Subspace settles on an potentially excessive decision.
At a swift pace, they duck under the blade and slip past the counter, tripping their partner in the process. Once behind, they grip around Medkit's abdomen with their left arm, and peer over their right shoulder. A burst of magenta light reflects onto Medkit's cheek as a crystal is summoned.
'So, are we really going to waste time doing this, which will certainly end in your incapcity, not mine.' Subspace hisses. 'Or are you ready to get back to labwork.' They pause. 'Your move.'
Subspace peers into Medkit; digging their claws into the Blackrock uniform.
Medkit stands unmoving, eyes locked on Subspace.
They dwell for a few seconds in faux consideration, listening to the clock tick each infinite second by and attempts the impossible.
Medkit kicks backwards, launching Subspace, who lets out a cry of pain, half a meter across the room, freeing themselves from the grip. Immediately, they dart away. They rush round counter tops and various lab equipment, aiming for the exit.
However, Subspace is much, much more agile than Medkit — and much more willing to dive over sensitive apparatus to see their plans through.
So, they do just that. Test tubes, conical flasks and other ongoing experiments clatter across the surface and to the floor alongside them.
Subspace lurks in the doorframe, although not much taller than the other, all the more threatening, with black sclera, donning a pristine lab coat and a sickening grin.
'Not today, Meddy.'
They can't let Medkit leave.
Medkit steadys themselves and draws the scalpel, but doesn't get the chance to use it. With the blink of an eye, they are thoroughly tackled backwards onto the floor, and the scalpel is ripped from their hand. They let out a harsh yell.
The silver moonlight lingers stark on Medkit's face, like a deer in headlights. Subspace feels them exhale deep breaths against their cheek. The blade has switched positions.
'Why do you care?' Medkit says in their heavy, sullen tone, 'Why do you care if I leave?'
'You can't,' Subspace retorts, 'You can't just leave the lab- our work. We're not done! We have so much more to learn-'
'You,' Medkit cuts them off, sighing, 'You can do all of that on your own. You know how to work a lab - it's the only thing you know. You even prefer to work solitarily. Why do you care? You hate me. I hate you. Surely you, of all inphernals, don't want me here.'
The teal deer stops for a second, and looks away.
'Tell me why.'
What?
Subspace stills, not being able to process the neurons firing in their brain.
'I don't care about you,' Subspace finally snarls, losing the sing-songy ring their voice usually carries, 'I care about the crystals. I care about the science. I care about Blackrock. Don't make this personal.'
Medkit looks back with a sombre expression.
Subspace doesn't take the time to dissect the look in their eyes.
Subspace slowly backs off, crawling off of Medkit, til the two demons are able to stand at full height.
They stare as the moonlight dances about Medkit's face, till it passes them. Subspace's gaze turns to the freshly sterilized scalpel in their palm.
With an inexplicable emotion, Subspace hurls themselves towards Medkit, scalpel in an overhand grip.
Medkit is propelled against the wall; deserted ampules to their left and a faded safety poster on their right. They wince on impact. Subspace's left forearm weighs on their chest as if their heart had been replaced by metal.
As if a prized butterfly corpse in a museum, they are pinned to the wall, inert.
'Let me go, Subspace,' Medkit heaves, 'Just let me go.'
Subspace's grin has been replaced with a dead, soulless glare. They act on a rotten instinct, angling the scalpel towards Medkit's right eye.
Medkit, Subspace thinks, lets it happen.
There is no more bargaining.
The scalpel slices through the air,
and gouges lens through cornea with a disgusting squelch.
Medkit lets out a howl of pain.
Blood and vitreous humor burst out, contaminating the methodical weapon with a thick, cochineal red.
Before the incision becomes clear, Medkit seizes a discarded glass vial, full of a sickly, neon pink fluid.
It explodes in Subspace's face before they even realise.
Scalding pain mauls at flesh — eating through fragile skin, muscle, bone. Everything.
The world is murky. All Subspace senses is the sound of industrial boots thudding down the hall, and their heart drop.
All is lost.
//
Subspace can see the edges of sunlight appearing in their peripherals. Barely — just splodges of calcium orange creeping into the gray blur that was their vision.
They are stood in the exact same place they have for hours; heart screaming, defeated.
Exactly where Medkit had left them.
Shit.
They had definitely left Blackrock by now.
Subspace can't bring themselves to move an inch, although, their hands shake, unyielding to their call.
What now?
Medkit was right - Subspace was a perfectly able chemist on their own. In fact, they worked better alone than they ever could with a partner, especially one like that. Their ideas, their methods - that's what Subspace liked. Solitary.
So, why were their legs stuck in place, unable to move from the last position they saw Medkit?
As if they couldn't function without their counterpart.
They just need to get to the eyewash station, to get the sample in the vial — that Subspace does not want to think about — out of their face.
The wound barely burns over the vile numbness they feel wrenching their insides.
Stepping forwards, they finally break the spell cast upon them. The maneuver towards to eyewash station, it should just be to the right, then straight forward. Right next to the door.
They move with a rigid motion, uncharacteristic of their usual fluid rushing. They would've expected to know the lab better than this, but apparently not. They bump into counters, eventually having to guide themselves across with their hands. Finally, they feel the tap and allow cool water to spray into their eyes. Finally.
Subspace shuts off the tap and looks up. They blink once, then twice. And again. And again, in futile attempt to erase the obvious.
Oh, fuck.
The light of the coming day's sun is overwhelming, but everything in their faint vision swirls and merges into a giant blur.
What the hell has Medkit done?
They feel the sting start to set in.
Subspace is completely blind.
An eye for an eye, Subspace supposes.