AN: This was the second time I had written for Marabell, I hope you like..

Blanket Disclaimer- I do not own Bungie, Destiny, etc, I just really like it. My characters are my own.

Zero - Cosmodrome

Marabell scowled at her Ghost, hissing as it bumped into her injured arm.

"Stop, you hunk of junk, you're making it worse." Her cracked helmet lay a ways away, and she felt blood pulse from her wound. She rose her hand to her mouth, taking off her gloves with her teeth and tossing them from her mouth to the snow covered ground.

"Miss Del Mar-"

Her head snapped up, and her blue eyes narrowed dangerously at him. "I'm going to need you to be quiet, or I will stuff you down a Captain's throat." She huffed at her Ghost, putting her back against the shell of the airplane they were in.

Hiding out in her ship for a few straight days was not what she had intended, and Tess was off with that bloody Titan again, so she was alone. And waiting, for them. To come back. She growled dramatically, blowing out labored breaths as she dug her fingers into the pulsing bullet wound.

"Fucking- ah ha ha!" She shrieked in real pain, trying to ignore the squelching sounds as she dug around for the bullet. It was deep, way to deep. She didn't even feel it yet, for Traveler's sake. She bit her lip, hard, tasting copper.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop-" She told herself, but kept pushing her fingers deeper. The wound widened, skin tearing audibly. The smell of death clawed at her nose and she looked to a dead Thrall beside her.

"You need a breathm- GODS!" She threw her head back against Golden Age metal, shuddering. Her arm felt numb. "Ghost; knife." She rushed out, gesturing with her bloody digits to a Dreg's discarded blade. The bot narrowed his optics at the insane Warlock, but transferred it to her open palm.

Marabell gripped the blade tightly, and positioned it above her wound, on the sleeve of her blue robes and cut deep and quick. The cut was sloppy, the knife cut into her skin shallowly, but gave her more access the arm bleeding arm.

"Get me back to my ship, boterella." Marabell told her Ghost, who floated in midair uncomfortably, but teleported them back.

She was in the medical room of her ship, now, sitting on the hard mattress with the knife hovering over her skin.

"Stupid, fucking, cunt-lacking, Fallen," she cursed before plunging the knife into her arm, deep and fast.

"You're INSANE! STOP!" Ghost yelled, flitting around frantically. Marabell said nothing, jerking the knife around without a sound.

She was carving into her own skin, stating straight ahead, poker faced. No sound, no sound, no sound, no sound.

The pain was near unreal, but this time it was self inflicted. She didn't think, before stabbing herself with the serrated knife. She didn't think, before charging into the horde of scavenging Fallen. She didn't think, when the first couple rounds of metal entered her armor.

And she was barely thinking now.

She made a sound of approval, before dragging the knife upwards, with the bullet, letting the metal weapons bounce off the pristine tile.

"You chose me, Ghost. You chose me." Marabell gave a laugh, and slammed a fist repeatedly into her weeping arm. She didn't bother bandaging it up, her Light was knitting together the teared muscle fast.

"Now." She sighed, letting her Ghost transfer lounge clothes onto her. "I want popcorn."