Too Late

Prompt: #3 I'm dying and I'm confessing my love to you.

(A/N) I'm sure I read that in a deleted post-credit scene idea Yon-Rogg ended up on Saakar.

Tags: #Major character death #Angst #One-shot 

***

Sakaar lives on the edge of the known and unknown. It is the collection point for all lost and unloved things. Like you. But here on Sakaar, you are significant. You are valuable. Here, you are loved." - Sakaar Computer, Thor 3

***

The escape pod never reached Hala.

Somehow, someway, it ended up in Sakaar. It was an artificial planet in the unknown regions, constructed from the waste of the universe, ruled by a powerful entity known as the Grandmaster. This being enjoyed rounding up fighters from countless worlds, forcing them to participate in his Contest of Champions. All manners of creatures were entered, forced to fight for their lives and the amusement of the Sakaaran's and their master.

It was here that Yon-Rogg found himself a prisoner. He was chained, stripped of his Starforce armour and forced into the arena. A noble warrior reduced to a gladiator on strings. Nothing more than a pawn for entertainment. Fighting battle after bloody battle. There was no honour there. No respect. No dignity.

Talos had been the one to tip her off. The Kree empire had one thing right about the Skrull. They had eyes and ears everywhere, their spy network deep and extensive. Carol had moved on instinct, immediately soaring across the galaxy like a shooting star. There was nothing that could have stopped her, not armies, titans or infinity stones. She knew that she shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be going to rescue her enemy. But even Yon-Rogg didn't deserve this.

By the time she got there, it was too late.

In the centre of the coliseum, two armoured Sakaarain's were dragging Yon-Rogg's body away. The crowds in the arena cheered and shook their fists in the air, applauding their new champion who had defeated the Kree warrior. It was a massive creature with green skin, nothing but muscles and strength.

Something dark, something vicious, snarled at the sight of her former mentor and friend having been reduced to a bloodied, bruise-covered mess. A man who she had trusted and shared everything with. A man who had become her most bitter enemy. They had no right to do this to him. They had no right to take him. He was not theirs.

Carol screamed, seeing nothing but the blinding light of her photon energy blasting from her fists. The new champion was sent crashing into the arena wall, debris smashing down upon him. The crowd fell into silence, watching as Carol - a being of pure chaotic light and energy - descended down into the fighting pit like an angel of wrath. Her hair floated around her, her entire body glowing like a star, pulsing with energy. The two Sakaarian's who dared lay their fingers on Yon-Rogg were smart enough to drop him and run in the opposite direction.

Carol's powers faded as she knelt down beside her old commander, her heart aching. He was covered in blood - their blood - his bare chest covered in bruises and gashes, his trousers torn and his scant pieces of armour heavily dented and tarnished. He had taken a severe beating, not just in this fight, but every fight since he had gotten here. He was a pitiful sight, nothing like the proud, immaculate warrior he was.

"Vers?" Yon-Rogg whispered, his voice hoarse and pained.

"Carol," she replied softly.

She lifted his head onto her lap, her fingers moving his bloodied, matted hair from his face. It had grown longer since last she had seen him. There was stubble on his face too.

"I didn't mean for you to be sent here."

"It's hardly worse... than what was waiting for me back... on Hala," Yon-Rogg gritted out.

Carol wasn't sure what to make of that. She had known the Supreme Intelligence would punish him, failure was not tolerated on Hala. But Yon-Rogg had been a hero among their kind, a military genius with a spotless record and unyielding loyalty to the empire. He was the son of a wealthy and influential pure-blood family, most of which had successful and respectable careers severing the Kree. She had thought that his history would garner him some leniency. Apparently not. Even those in the highest of Kree society were easily disposed of if they displeased their deity.

Yon-Rogg groaned, a terrible cough violently convulsing his body. Specks of blue blood spluttered from his mouth. Every word, every movement was causing him agony. Carol flinched, wanting to look away.

"You can't die here, Yon-Rogg," Carol said, hating the way her voice cracked. She had to swallow down the tears threatening to spill. "Stand up again."

"Not this time, Vers. I think... I'll be joining the Collective soon." Yon-Rogg caressed her cheek with a trembling hand, his finger shaking. She could see the strain it caused him to do so. She leaned into his touch. His hand was cold. "What have I told you about emotions? Control them. I don't deserve your grief."

"Why aren't you angry with me?" Carol muttered.

From his perspective, he had every right to be as furious with her as she was with him. He had stolen her from her home and family, lied to her, manipulated her and made her into a weapon of war. She had thwarted his mission, killed her his teammates, ruined his military career, and had led him to be tossed into this hellish world where he was forced to fight tooth and nail to live.

They should hate each other.

She shouldn't have shot across the stars to rescue him, she shouldn't be crying over him. He shouldn't be trying to comfort her in his own way, reaching out and touching her and looking at her with such awe, such want and something else, something both of them had felt but never dared admit.

"Since when... have I ever... been able... to stay mad at you?" Yon-Rogg murmured, a wistful smile on his face. His eyes golden eyes were growing duller by the moment, no longer like the rising dawn but the setting dusk. "Maybe in another timeline... I get to say I love you when I'm not dying... and even crazier... you love me too."

Carol's heart wrenched, a sob escaping her. "Yon-Rogg, don't you dare-"

She leaned down, placing her lips against his, hard and desperate. She felt his hand move to her cheek, keeping her in place with what little strength he had. When his hand fell she pulled away to look at him. His eyes were shut. She could no longer see those wonderous gold eyes that haunted her dreams.

"Yon-Rogg?" Carol whispered. She shook him, trying to rouse him. "Don't... don't you dare. Don't you dare!"

He remained unmoving in her arms.

Carol clutched him to her, sobs shaking her body. His blood stained her uniform and face. She didn't know how long she stayed there, but eventually, the crowds began to mummer, drawing Carol back into reality.

Slowly, she rose to her feet.

Slowly, she looked up at the man watching her from a throne, high above the arena.

Slowly, she took a step forward.

And slowly... she would make him pay.