Disclaimer: Ratchet and Clank is owned by Insomniac Games.

Okay, new thing of one shots. This time, separate stories on the chapters..

Also, this one gets dark pretty dang fast. So... Yeah, that's why that warning down there is there.

Warning: Contains character death, thoughts of suicide, mention of drug use.

Clank is dead.

The news struck the young Lombax harder than anything before. Sure, seeing the closest friend of his father's corpse at The Clock struck him, but this was different.

This was his closest friend. His first true friend. That robot would stick to his back metaphorically and literally for fourteen years.

Now... Now his back felt... naked, vulnerable, and cold.

His other friends tried to cheer him up, but no matter what they did, he'd always put on a mask and give them thanks, then shut himself up in his bedroom and either lie awake until sheer exhaustion knocked him into sleep, or until the storm of tears and heart broken muffled screams and pleas pulled him into the same old nightmare.

Clank and him enjoying the dusty Veldin air with a lazy afternoon, then the skies turn to complete darkness and Clank's eyes simply shut down. Ratchet calls his name over and over, slowly building up to triggering a panic attack. Then there's a shout of anger and a bolt of plasma flies out from the darkness and Clank becomes nothing but a pile of scrap, save his head which has his antenna bent, the left eye cracked, and his jaw locked in that of a plead for help.

Ratchet's tried therapy, he tried talking to everyone that knew his loss, he even turned to chain drinking and chewing up pain killers for a week, and nothing helped.

So, what is the famous Lombax doing now? Debating with himself.

Should he try to maybe fix his broken friend and fail, or continue living without him, or even...

Ratchet shivered as he thought of that thought. The ultimatum.

"No. That's not what... But..." The Lombax growled as he glanced over at the blaster and knife on the table. Yes, he had few ways planned of how he wanted to die. Slow and painful by slitting his wrists or throat open in the bathtub, or quick and painless with a bullet through the brain, but no matter how hard he tried, no matter how close the knife got to his neck or wrists, no matter how close the trigger was pulled to fire the shot, just a few seconds before he pulled it off, he'd either drop the blade or firearm and shake with sobs from the mere thought of ending everything in a splatter of blood.

He was in denial of Clank being dead the first week. He'd scream at anyone who stated any negative about Clank for two months. He would pay anyone any amount of bolts to fix his friend for six months. He finally went numb from everything after a year and he wished it all to finally end.

"Death is never the answer." Everyone always said that. Even Clank did back when the Lombax was in the Depression stage of mourning after Azimuth passed, but that only lasted two months before he entered Acceptance, but this time, no one has spent even two hours to simply be there for him. Ratchet finally made up his mind and stood up, slipped into a hooded sweatshirt, grabbed the keys to his apartment, and turned the lights off as he went out for a walk.

Artist/Band/Song that gave inspiration: My Chemical Romance's Famous Last Words

Yeah. I couldn't come up with a ending, so that seemed good enough.

So, Yes, you readers may submit prompts, but there is a rule: One prompt per person.

Also, don't expect anything above the T rating. And as always, I'll see you guys later!

~ Jak Cooper the Lombax