Since I just posted the first "torturing Chase" one-shot that I had ever written, here's the latest. I wrote this several months ago, and obviously it's kind of the "what was Chase thinking/feeling while he was stuck in his capsule during 'Bro Down'?" concept, which is totally old and been used a million times before. But I thought I should put my own little spin on it. I'm publishing this so close to my last fanfic due to overexcitement and fangirl eagerness from finally getting an account and being able to publish my writing. Sorry. Enjoy!

It was stifling hot.

His brain tried to comprehend the humor in that sentence. It was hot. It was stifling. It was stifling hot. If he hadn't been in such danger, he would have laughed at the clever wordplay.

Everything around him was bathed in red light, which he thought was adequate given the temperature in his capsule at that moment. If he didn't know better, he would say that he was melting.

The other part that was causing him discomfort was the fact that he couldn't breathe. There might as well have been hands wrapped around his neck because he felt like he was being strangled. He was struggling for air even as he banged on the locked door of his prison. He was being choked even as he yelled out to the person who could help him.

It's too late, he thought dimly as he weakened. His strength had slipped away, and his consciousness was quickly following. He was no longer calling out, no longer beating on glass.

His legs felt like jelly, like the bones had disappeared inside them somehow. He slowly slipped to the ground, not even caring when his back knocked into the side of the tube that he was trapped in.

He was being suffocated. There was no air left in his lungs, no oxygen reaching his brain or any other part of his body. There was a tightness in his chest, partly from the lack of air and partly from the fear he felt. It was like there was a boa constrictor around his torso and neck, constricting his airway. He was no longer breathing.

He was going to die here. He knew it. His bionic mind was already telling him exactly how it would happen. His heart would stop, his brain would be damaged, his body would shut down. His vision was already failing. Darkness was already pulling at him, beckoning him to just let go. With every second, the pull got stronger. With every second, he got closer to death.

All of this seemed to flash through his brain simultaneously. Then, there was the distant sound of glass breaking and shouting. The part of his mind that was still attached to reality could sense someone tugging at him, taking him away from the heat and breathlessness. He gasped as air rushed through his lungs, and reality seemed to zoom in close again. He hadn't died.

Chase was alive.