Season IV
Day III
"Cut It Off"
Huan's legs shake as he crosses the room. He doesn't for a moment believe that he's going to make it. The screams still echo in his skull despite the fact that they've faded to chilling sobs. He could almost believe that they're okay. He could almost trick himself into believing for a second that the blood sprayed across the wall isn't theirs.
"I'm right here," he doesn't know if the words he says are even English. Huan isn't good at this. He isn't good at making decisions or comforting people or anything beyond looking after himself. That's all he's ever had to do. His life up until prison has taken place behind a computer screen, playing and modifying video games well into the early morning. Easy.
Yet, one mistake brought him here.
Huan places one hand on their uninjured arm, his touch as delicate as he can make it. Their sobs grow louder in response and he snatches his hand away. Am I hurting them? Huan barely felt their uniform, his fingers feel so numb. All he can see is blood. There's so much. It reminds him of the first day, it reminds him of Saul.
He was already dead when I got there. Huan knows that it's true but he can't help but wonder if running faster would've made any difference at all. His killer was long gone. Huan still doesn't know who it was. There was just Saul, alone, blood soaking every inch of his torso, dead. There was so much blood.
He swallows and forces himself to look at Charlie. They were Saul's friend, an ally because neither of them knew what else to do after Saul was gone. They'd both floated numbly around the prison for three days and now this. Huan's throat fills with a rush of saliva as he realizes. He can't see a wound at all; Charlie's arm is still locked inside one of the workshop's machines.
Huan's head spins as the sound of whirring mechanics fills his head once again. He remembers screaming, he thinks they both did, but then it stopped and the only cries left weren't his. He knew they'd been hit. He knew they were hurt. He just never imagined what he would find.
What do I do? Huan swallows the bile in his throat. He lifts one hand towards where Charlie's still trapped, then drops it back into his lap. "Is it-"
He can't even bring himself to say the words.
Charlie's teeth chatter as they try to pull away from the machine. Their screams are only muffled when they grab hold of Huan's arm and bury their face in it. Their arm didn't move even a millimeter.
"Do I-?" He doesn't know what he's asking. Is he going to pull it free himself? That would surely cause more damage. Huan can't leave them here. He might not have known what to say to them for the past few days, but he can't. It might be easier alone but that doesn't matter. For Saul. For the reason that, if it were him, he hopes Charlie would stay. For the fact that they're a fucking human being and don't deserve to die like this.
Charlie shakily pries their eyes from his sleeve, red-rimmed lids staring intently up at him. Their next words would become a constant echo in Huan's skull. "Cut it off."