aftermath: life debt | the bad batch

xxviii. rendezvous to bracca

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xxviii.

rendezvous to bracca

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••• 

Omega stayed in her bed for the most part, avoiding any interaction with Tech that she could. However, as the days went on since their argument she noticed he started to get paler and paler, and very weak. He looked awful. He didn't threaten her again, but he didn't talk to her either. The only times he talked to her was when he checked on how the treatment was working.

Omega was familiar with the poison that Tech had said, she just didn't know that he was the one that created it. His symptoms were typical, and as much as she wanted to help him, she didn't want him to get upset again. But, she also knew he wasn't completely doomed.

She knew there was an anecdote.

In fact, she was the one who created it.

She sat up in her hospital bed, setting Lula to the side. She needed to help Tech get better. She didn't care how, but she needed to help him first and worry about herself second. Could she die attempting to help him due to the state he was in? Yes. Did she care? Not really.

Omega stood up and walked into the main area, standing in the doorway, hesitant to go further. She saw Tech sitting on one of the benches across the room, on his datapad, keeping to himself. She decided to proceed further into the room, sitting on a box that was across from him.

"Tech..." she started. "I-"

"What do you want, Omega?" Tech asked, interrupting her, but speaking to her in a kinder tone than he has been speaking to her recently.

"Tech, are you doing okay?"

"Mhm," he mumbled. "Why?"

"Did you fix your wounds?" Omega asked.

"Why do you care?" Tech asked, this time in a harsher tone.

"Because you're my brother, Tech. I want to make sure you're okay."

"I told you I was fine, didn't I?" Tech responded, standing up and walking towards the other side of the room, which was where they had the rations.

"Yes, you did, but you don't look fine. I can help. Please, let me help."

"I don't need your help," he replied, sounding weaker than he had.

"You need to cure your wounds soon. Time is running out."

"It's fine."

"It isn't."

"Yes, it is," he said, sounding even weaker.

"It's the poison that's making you think that," Omega said. "Wake up, Tech. Wake up."

"I'm going to be fine, Omega, why can't you understand that?"

Tech grabbed a ration, and when he stood up, he leaned against the wall, struggling to breathe. Omega rushed over to him, trying to see if he was okay.

"Tech. Tech, are you okay?" Omega asked, even though it was clear that he wasn't. Tech didn't respond, as he was in too much pain to do so.

"Listen, Tech. I'm going to help you, whether you like it or not. I'm going to fix your wounds. I know what I'm doing. I don't care if you kill me afterwards because of the poison. I can't have you die. I'm going to do my best to fix them with what we have available. Then, after, we can go to a proper medical facility and they can help you more there. Does that sound good?"