The first thing he did when he hit the ground was mourn the loss of his back PAK legs and his fear of heights. Another thing that Purple had managed to change about Red for the better. His hands shook but, he ignored that in favor of running.

Purple wasn't an idiot, despite how stupid he was and Red knew that he would've headed towards the mountain as they had planned. If there was any way to live, you scratch and claw your way to the top. The entire area was still, stunningly desolate. Besides the unconscious guards of course.

Panting, Red stepped over a log, glancing around carefully in case any of the little bastards popped out to attack. The tall cement walls if the building loomed up before him. He glared at the over abundance of Screw-paraphernalia. Little screws on the doors, imbedded in the walls and hanging from the ledge of the roof. Barbaric.

A glimmer of blue caught his eye against the grainy sand. Red kneeled, kicking the dirt everywhere and stared down at the splash of what was unmistakably irken blood. Leading into the dark depths of this death trap with only god knows what in its belly.

Red's lip curled, a burning fire growing, turning into a ravenous beast that licked at his throat. Rage, possessive and sickened flowed, ashes of the fire, blackening his spooch and coating every thought that passed through his brain. They had taken Purple, made him bleed. Was he even alive? If he was they were torturing him now. Something to take their helplessness out on.

'Kill'. The word sprung to the forefront of everything, rising up out of the ashes and flashing neon red. Obeying the inner voice, the general shoved to his feet and slipped stealthily into the Screw-Head base.

-0-

Purple hovered. Floated between two worlds. Though sometimes it felt like there were three. On occasions four. Or maybe there was no worlds and only pain with the occasional delusional vision. The poison was definitely effective. It kept him nearly paralyzed. But, he could feel and hear everything.

Their raucous laughter, drunken on power and heady in their ability to finally do something about their defeat. Even if it meant torturing someone who had no direct power. Another agonizing stab into his stomach. A pointed foot. The edges slipping into skin and ripping delicate organs.

He couldn't even scream. But, he WAS Irken. The toxins were being slowly but surely cleansed by the PAK systems and within the hour he should be…

But, within the hour the rescue crew would've came and gone. Maybe they had already came. Who knew how much time had passed? A broken noise fought to make it's way up his throat and into the air, when one of them yanked on his antenna, splashed deadly acids on his skin. Touched him and laughed and laughed and…

They laughed. That was fine. Purple was small, antenna too big for his tiny body and a mouth even bigger than all of that. It was what got him in trouble more often than his size. Mouth off to the wrong person and wind up shoved into a trash compactor or chased to the edges of the Academy and beaten within an inch of your battery life.

And that had happened more time than he could count on his hands. But, that was expected from the low IQ, premature Smeets that were shoved into these parts of the Academy.
Purple ran, panting from exertion and fear. They were close, their laughter, cruel and high from youth mocked him from behind. If they caught him again, the bruises wouldn't fade for several Rotations.

"There he is! Come here, Runt!" Terror hitched into his throat, but he spun on his heels and lifted his fists, placing his feet into a fighting stance. No fear would show in his eyes. They would not know that he was scared. They would not get that privilege.
And when they came for him, he was ready.

"Pitiful, Irken!" Low and nasal, barbaric language. The Screws snarled and stabbed at anything that looked as if it wasn't bleeding yet. "Nothing but a weakling-Akoh! You call yourself a solider?" A round of laughter. Purple shivered. Not from pain, but from the words.

There was Red's face again. Stunned and far from comprehending his betrayal. Then it slowly melted into rage. There was pain in this vision too. Pain that nearly exceeded the kind that was destroying his body. Hot stabs of bad…in his spooch. Ice running through his blood and the wish to make this better. To go back in time and fix it.

He could almost picture himself, reaching out…not to hit Red, but to touch him. Stroke his face and apologize more. Make him forgive him. Press their lips together and beg, beg Red to let it go…to make him understand that it wasn't supposed to be this way.
Purple reached out to that face of stone, rubies glistening in his sockets.'Red…'

-0-

Through the crowd, Red could see him. The blood glistened in the dim light. Made it look so much darker and plentiful. The air was filled with the sickly sweet smell, stank of oil and revenge. A growl built up in his throat when he got a good glimpse of his face, on the ground…broken and bleeding. Then Purple was gone again, covered by the mob that seemed to be taking turns, trying to break the captive, to teach him a lesson.

A quick head count; twenty-nine of them. The rest of the population had left. Why this group was left here was a mystery to Red. Not that it mattered. They would all be dead within the next few minutes anyway.

'Kill'. Instinct demanded. The urge to unleash that was nearly undeniable. However, solider training kept him pinned to the side of the wall and waiting. Stealth was the best tactic. Take out at least four before the rest caught on.

Gritting his teeth, forcing the rage from his mind, Red slid across the slick cement floor, removing two lazer blades from his side pockets and retracting the leftover spider legs and setting the plasma rays to 'disintegrate'.

A deep breath and all at once he slit two throats and blew another two heads off. Four bodies fell to the floor, adding filthy yellow to high blood irken blue, and it was chaos. It took them a few seconds to realize they weren't alone any longer, to realize it was an irken who was obviously armed. And in those few seconds he got another four..and a half.
A round of shrieks echoed in the room. Red raised his chin. He was ready.

'Breath. Slash. Cut, aim for the center…dodge that one. Spring, kick and slash.' Purple's voice in his head, reminding him. Fighting with him. 'Breathe. Blow its head off. Duck, dodge and cut throat.'
The numbers dwindled until a pile of bodies surrounded him, all dripping and unmoving. It was finally silent but for a few tiny whimpers that came from the drenched form in the middle of the room.

Red slid the lazer blades into his pockets, and withdrew the legs while he ran for Purple, nearly slipping in the sludge of Screw blood. "Pur!" He gasped, dropping to his knees beside him. A hand gently, turned the other's head. It was swollen, beautiful skin, broken and slashed. Numerous screw bullets protruded from his body. His PAK was even a bit dented.

His breath caught in his throat, another sea of rage and regret rising in his chest. Red wished there was more of them to kill. His thumb brushed across Purple's bottom lip, brows furrowed.

"Purple? Hey…? Wake up, please." When had his voice become so gentle? Back in that forest, when he'd begun comforting this moron. Blackened eyelids flickered and opened only a millimeter. Red suspected that was as far as he could open them.

"R-Red…?" The word was hoarse, and awe filled. "What are you…I thought…why—"

"Shh." The General, placed his finger against the mechanic's lips, ever so slightly. "It's fine. We're fine…you're fine." Thank Irk. "I'm going to get you out of here. Okay? And…I'm never leaving you again."

Despite how much pain he was in, his split lips didn't stop him from smiling slightly. "Good…I'll never lie or hit you again…"

"Unless, I ask for it?" Red replied casually, lifting the male up bridal style. Wincing, Purple nodded, clutching Red's uniform.

"Y-yeah. Of course."

Outside, the ship was waiting. When the first officer saw the state that Purple was in, he paled to a light green and called for medics. Within the hour, they were all in the sky.
And within that same hour, the planet was cleansed of all life.

Red sat by Purple's bed as the Medics worked. They stitched him the best they could until the PAK could do the rest, removed the bullets and gave him a lot of pain medication.

The General waited until the last of the Medics was gone before climbing into the bed with Pur. Only then could he feel as if everything would be okay.

A.N.:

Nearly done, folks. Epilogue is the only thing left.