One More Night || kidge au

Alt. Ending: You Choose the Knife

Would you go for the knife or the gun?

Gun                > Knife

Would you like to choose the Knife?

> Yes                    No

Taking her lessons she's learned from her classes, Pidge went for the knife. Rushing him, she grappled his arm and tried various positions that would have him drop the knife to the ground. But, there was the sound of a gunshot, her ears ringing again in the proximity amid the screaming that Lee was making.

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Pidge."

Lee stiffened in her arms and the gun dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Lee stopped screaming and his grip on the knife tightened before it followed suit.

"No," Pidge whispered, her eyes burning.

"Pidge," Keith called again, softer this time.

She closed her eyes.

"No, this wasn't supposed to happen!" Lee cried, stifling a broken sob.

Pidge opened her eyes, slowly turning to face Keith and his arms wrapped around her. He leaned against her, his weight heavy and she sank to her knees. She didn't know what was happening, but the warmth spreading to her chest and hands told her one thing.

Keith dropped his head to her lap, cradling him in her arms. "No, no, Keith, no," Pidge frantically whispered.

The red was spreading across his chest, the hole in his shirt vaguely revealing where he had been shot. Keith was struggling to breathe, his wheezing painful to hear and the veil of sweat that covered his skin. "Hey, hey," he murmured, lifting his gaze to her.

Rick managed to stave off the bleeding, and could only watch. Lee was curled into a ball, rocking on his feet while uttering the word "no" on repeat.

"Keith, you can't—you can't!"

He wheezed and was trying to breathe through what could be a punctured lung. Whatever Pidge was trying to do to stop the bleeding, much like she had done for Rick, wasn't working for Keith. There wasn't a towel or anything she could use to stop it.

His hand, wet and covered in blood, reached for hers, stopping her from trying. It was as though he knew that he didn't have much time and Pidge couldn't hold back her tears. She resisted his hand, holding down the place where she could feel the... no, she couldn't.

"You can't leave me, Keith, please, you can't," Pidge pleaded.

"I'm glad—you're—okay," he wheezed.

"No, stop talking, stop—you'll make it worse." Her vision was blurring. She wiped furiously at her tears, unable to stop them. "Just wait and someone will come and rescue us and save you."

Keith's gaze was lidded, slightly furrowed from trying to hold down the pain. "I—I don't think—I'll make it." He laughed without humor, bitter, angry, and frantic, but it was the realization that he was shot finally dawning on him, hysteria tinged in the edges of his voice.

"No, you will—you have to! Not just for me, but for them! For—!" She choked back a sob.

His gaze shifted from where Lee was laying. Rick was pale as a sheet, close enough that he's probably losing just as much as blood as Keith was, only, there was a look on his visage that was in denial about the situation as much as she was. Regret and anger and disbelief flitted across his face and Pidge didn't have the heart to think of anything else of what they meant.