Lance knows he's dying.
The sudden lack of pain gives it away. If he could still see clearly, the continual river of his blood washing down the gutter would clue him in as well. It flows from his wounds in steady pumps, puddling with the rain and sludge on the broken asphalt.
He shouldn't have followed them. He shouldn't have broken into their pod. He shouldn't have grabbed that case or left the hatch open and he definitely shouldn't have done it all while off duty.
Cap's gonna be so mad, he thinks, until he can't anymore. Black fuzz crowds in at his periphery and the cracked brick lining the alley begins to blur into the rain. He exhales in strangled gasps as more fluid than gas fills his lungs. It's all he can hear now.
The men and the pod and the case are long gone, not that it matters any more. His sight finally fades.
Bullshit, his mind fires, as if last ditch exasperation alone can combat severe blood loss and organ failure.
His breathing rasps in. Chokes out.
Stops.
His heart follows not long after.
And as Lance finally dies, a broken flask caught under his broken body begins to glow.
A/N: Rest in pieces Lance.
(Also hello! First fanfic ever published online, to be torn apart by the masses. Enjoy.)