Red came to consciousness aware of two things; his head hurt like it had been stuffed into a meat grinder before being replaced inside his skull and there was a message waiting for him inside his PAK. Groaning, the general forced his weary body to move, each inch causing new hot spokes to poke their way into his brain.

The sky was dark, and the clearing was…empty. Thinking was torture but, eventually the thought came to him that he was alone; Purple was gone, ran away most likely after beating him upside the head.

"Good." He hissed, brows furrowed as harsh metal shavings cut up his inside, as his head burned from the rage and pain. Now that the traitor was gone, he could finally come up with a proper plan and even better his brain was clear and not consumed with thoughts of violet eyes and wispy antenna ends…

Red shoved himself to his feet, gritting his teeth against the ringing in his skull. The PAK beeped at him mentally, signaling an urgent message from someone on his Squadron. He accepted it, quickly reading the words that flashed before his eyes.

"Close to meet pnt. Approx. 2 hrs."

Well, at least they had managed to get a message through to him. That meant that the signal was stronger and therefore he was close enough that they would be able to detect him, and the further he moved up the mountain the better the connection would get.

They would land, there would be a nice reunion, some sleep and food, followed by immediate action on his half. They would finally take this filthy planet and Red would be presented with some sort of prodigious medal and he could go back to normal.

'What about him?' That cocky smile flashed before his eyes, slick as oil fighting moves, the determination on his expression, trust…bravery…like a solider. But, he's not and never has been and never will be.
"What about him?" Red snarled, fists clenched. "He made his choice when he lied to me." The great general straightened himself up and began to march, putting one foot forward and trying not to think about the fact that Purple would be on this pathetic planet when the Tallest preformed the final canon sweep.

-00—

The mountain loomed up ahead, deadly and laden with possibilities. The Screw-Head base was nearby. It was a time for stealth and cautiousness. Purple had the first one. The second one…not so much. He leaped a fallen log, feeling the soggy ground give under his footfalls.

Panting, the mechanic slipped behind a large clump of trees, weary of the fact that he could SEE several of those horrid creatures moving around, the top of their heads, deadly sharp screw as it glistened in the sun.

He stopped and shoved himself against one of the trees, trying to control his breathing, to gather his wits. After Purple had hit Red, the only to do had been to run. At first because he knew when Red woke up he'd be murderous and because Purple didn't want to be there to face that.

But, as he had leapt cliffs and dodged, predatory plants it had become clear that if he wanted to survive, he had to make it to the mountain and to the rescue crew. If he could…well, he could stow away until they reached Irk and then disappear into the population.

Purple knew someone who could re-encode paks…

Survival instincts had him running on pure adrenaline. But, now that he had slowed down, the full reality of what had happened attacked him. He'd hit a general. He'd hit Red. Then there was pain…in his hand where the moron's hard head had made contact, clenching around his spooch and chest. Red had looked and sounded furious.

Not even when they had been fighting at the very beginning had he ever had that fire in his eyes…it was hatred. Purple let out a slow breath. Whatever they had somehow managed to become over these last days was gone. As if it had never been.

At least for Red. Purple knew that he would always feel this way. It was encoded in his PAK now. Unless, his connection could reencoded that too. The very thought made the pain in his chest get tighter.

Could he get rid of Red? Make himself forget the trust and the touches? His smile and brute strength? How Red had fought back his childhood nighttime replays, comforting him?
Purple shook his head and turned back towards the mountain, violet eyes flickering everywhere, trying to find a clearing…he couldn't fight them all or else he would. His only hope was to sneak past them. Once he did it would only be a couple hours till he reached the landing party.

The Screw-Heads were obviously looking for them. But, a vast majority were preparing for war, gathering rations and sending ships around the planet to gather the general population to send them far away from here. They weren't stupid; they knew what happened when the Irkens came to your world.

Purple watched a couple of them arguing in their barbaric language, pointing here and there, using fast hand movements. They were distracted and just beyond them lay a general pathway. At least if he had that, he could hide in the trees along it and use it as a guide to the top.

Taking a deep breath, the tall irken rolled his shoulders, cleared his mind…of everything except for ruby red eyes, and a devious, cocky smile before breaking away from the tree and running for the pathway.

Of course almost immediately, someone saw the flash of green and alerted the others. Luckily he had a head start, throwing himself into the nearby forest, dashing between trees. Even though Purple was very fast, he could hear the sounds of their pursuit not too far behind him. Panic tried to surface, but he shoved it down.

"Go up. Go up." His antenna picked up on a familiar and dreaded swooshing sound; the sound of heated metal cutting through the air fast enough to be audible. The bullet went past his head, imbedding into a nearby bolder. Pieces went flying everywhere as he ducked in preparation for more bullets.

Not to be disappointed, tons more came after him. One cut into his uniform, slicing the skin beneath to shreds. Purple growled, biting down to stop the instinctive cry of shock and pain. "Can't. Slow. Down."

His legs were burning from the exertion, his breathing was choppy and Purple knew that he was getting clumsier, having tripped nearly twice. He had to lose them soon or els—

He couldn't even scream the pain was so great. It came from his shoulder, spreading like a disease, like wild fire. The toxic point of the screw, doing its job effectively. The force of the blow knocked Purple off his feet, not that it was very hard. It was hard to see for a second, everything blurry. The irken pushed himself to his knees, noticing that his arms were shaking and his sleeve was coated blue from his wound.

"No…" His own voice sounded far away and weak. But, the barbaric cries of victory of the Screw Heads sounded close, too close. Gritting his teeth, Purple forced himself to his feet and held up his fists, standing in the fighting position. If he was going to die, he was going to do so while fighting.

They screeched and came after him with a fervor. Purple screamed right back, yelling in irken, unsure quite what he was saying but in his mind all he heard was the instructions he always gave for himself during fights.

'To the left. Block. Upper cut. Kick. Breathe. Back blow. Avoid. Right target, he's got the gun. Hit. Block. Take down. Neck twist.'Sweaty, dirty, bloody hands grabbed the screw head's cranium and twisted so that the neck broke easily.

'Breathe.' But, it was hard. His mouth tasted like blood, his movements growing steadily more sluggish.'Block.' A hand went up to stop an attack but, failed. The Screw head knocked the mechanic to his back.

Purple felt everything all at once, weighing on him, keeping him on his back; the bullet in his shoulder, it's toxins in his blood, fear and weakness, Red's face in the stages of their companionship, anger, annoyance, trust, laughter, that softer, wanting look and hatred…

'I'm sorry.' He thought, as the enemy swarmed him and his vision turned dark.

-oo—

There had been a few guards that Red had taken care of easily, but the rest of the army was surprisingly absent. He wondered for a few seconds where they might be, if only to keep his mind busy, but soon dismissed the thought in favor of forcing himself up the mountain.

Time was passing quickly, the sun already beginning to set which cast ominous shadows all along the pathway he'd found. As he jogged up the side, he kept away thoughts of Purple with plans; military tactics, which part of this planet he would destroy first, what he was going to do with the rest of his life. Oddly enough the ideas held no appeal for him. They were dull and stupid. Empty.

'Beep. Beep.' Red's Pak warned him that the rescue party was very close by and that meant they could land soon. Dread curled low in his spooch, though the thought of getting off this miserable planet was glorious.

He picked an open area, with trees on all sides and waited. Not a few seconds later, the ship appeared, medium sized for an Irken ship, camouflaged to their environment. It landed on the grass with a very anti-climatic 'thump'. The vessel door swooshed aside and his second in command stood at attention, smirking.

"Greetings Captain." He saluted, fist to his chest. "Sorry it took so long."

Red instinctively returned the gesture, legs heavy as they carried him towards the ship. "Hello Blik. It's fine. Just be quicker next time." The general was already putting his stony face back on, replacing the mask he used in front of all his crew.

Blik let the captain get inside before glancing around curiously. "Wasn't there another one with you Sir?"

Red scowled darkly, never glancing back. "No. Come on, we have work to do."

Shrugging, the first officer shut the door before scurrying off after him.

A.N.:

So close to the end I can taste it.
I know Red is being a dick but, don't worry. He won't leave Purple.

I'd like to thank DerangedSpazz on dA for reminding me this story existed.