Chapter Text
Ranboo lays there on the freezing metal floor of an alien spaceship, pretty certain that today will be his last day.
His stomach is empty. He can’t feel his own heartbeat, his breaths are quick and shallow, and even blinking is something that takes a valiant effort from him. When he tries to sit up and move, only to the other side of the cage, his whole frame trembles with the strain of his atrophied muscles.
He doesn’t know what they injected into his body, but he’s pretty certain that’s what’s going to kill him.
At age seventeen, Ranboo is going to die because aliens abducted him.
What a wild sentence that is. That’s like, crazy. He wonders just how he got that right, for the stars to align, for all of history to just fall into place as it did just for him to be taken away from his planet one lonely night. Of all the ways he thought he would’ve died one day, he did not imagine that out in the middle of space, at the hands of alien experimentation, was something that could even BE on the list, and yet, here he is. Ranboo, being a teenager, did not think he would die so soon.
He doesn’t have the energy to sing, to speak. His throat is far too dry and broken, but he can manage a faint hum. The screaming had made his esophagus raw and raspy, and his ears still hear reverberations of his voice in his dreams.
But regardless of circumstance, Ranboo will hum his happy birthday song, for a day he’s not sure has even passed yet or not. The sound echoes around him. He feels the vibrations in the metal through his fingertips. It makes the blurry vision of the surrounding room twist and swirl, morphing into something sicking. All the other cages are empty now, and he’s the last one.
He closes his eyes, imagining other voices with him, the people back at home, humming with him. He imagines the warm glow of candles on a chocolate cake; the sweet taste of sugar on his tongue, and the warmth of home.
It’s a good feeling that doesn’t last, but he’s glad to have it for the few seconds he has left.
Sooner or later, he’s going to lose consciousness, only to never gain it ever again.
This is the End.
-
Phil doesn’t hate his job per se, but if his work could contain just a little less depressing incidents, that would be swell, honestly. Looking at the state of the ship he’s in, he doesn’t imagine even the slavers here were treated well. It’s filthy, the ship itself outdated by at least a decade’s worth of upgrades, and the stench is abysmal. Just the mere existence of this ship at all is some kind of major hazard for all who dare to tread through it, seeing just how it’s falling apart at the seams.
Phil is a simple scrap yard worker. He finds drifting and abandoned ships and strips them apart. Frequently, the organizations and workers fighting against pest and parasite species, the slaver, and poachers will come calling on him to take care of the things that are left after the fights. The ships are usually empty, and it’s daunting work if you’re new. Niki has been adjusting well, though, given the circumstances. He does not blame her now for how hesitantly she moves, scales on her neck curling upwards. Phil himself feels how his feathers puff up too. Something is wrong on this ship, and he can just feel it.
Regardless, nobody says anything, and he orders them as standard.
If something really is off, they will find it eventually—no need to walk on eggshells just yet if they don’t see the problem immediately.
That is until he hears a shriek come from the far end of the ship. Then the comm in his pocket starts crackling before Niki speaks.
“Captain,” Niki starts, and Phil is already on his way, hearing the tremble in her voice. “I think you might want to see this.”
He goes down a narrow set of stairs, ducking under loose wires and rattling floor grates. The state of the ship seems to get even worse the further he delves into it, and the closer he gets to the dungeon sections of the ship. It’s dark and dingy down here, smelling of rotten bodies. He’s never been more grateful for his elytrian nose that can barely even pick up the scent. He can’t imagine what it must be like for Techno. Void. He’d hoped Niki wouldn’t have to encounter something like this so soon into her career. He can only hope she doesn’t quit just yet. She’s the best one they’ve gotten in a long time.
“Niki? Niki, what is it? Where are you?”
“Down here, Phil-“
He finds her looking into one of the cages, crouched, a deeply concerned and stressed expression morphing her face, the color of her scales shifting every so often reflecting her stress.
And then he sees why. She says nothing more than he comes to stand next to her, leering into the claustrophobic cage. In the far left corner of the rusted and filthy cage, he sees it.
Curled up into a little ball, lays something of odd and muted colors, with tangled dark and matted hair at the top of its head. Its head is tilted at an odd angle, but he can see the face. The face structure resembles something eerily... like a species that’s REALLY not supposed to be out so far into deep space. It takes him a while, but once he’s got it, he can’t unsee it. That’s the face of a human, no doubt about it.
And its chest rises and falls, however barely. He’s looking at a living, breathing human being. On a scrapped and ransacked poacher ship.
“Holy shit-“
“What do we do? Do we contact the officials?” The mer asks, looking for guidance with wide eyes.
The officials don’t care, Phil doesn't say. They don’t, because everything is all up to Phil after they’ve done their job and he moves in. Whether there’s still life on the ship is no matter to them, because all remaining life isn’t worth their time if they’ve left it to Phil.
“Too late now.” He says.
“But it’s alive.”
“Then we must kill it.”
Niki looks shocked. “But- It’s alive Phil, We can’t just, kill it. Can’t we help it?”
“It might kill us if we do. It’s better we don’t risk it, we’re just cleaners. We turn ships to scrap, and if there’s anything alive, it either goes with them or dies on this ship. I think it was meant to be dead already, looking at the state of it.”
Niki looks sick to her stomach. He feels the same ache, though unlike her, he’s had practice, however rare these occurrences. Techno was always there to pull him out of it too.
“It must be in so much pain… What do you think it is? How long has it been here?”
“Likely days, mate. Do you know what a human is?”
“It sounds familiar.”
“Hm. It’s probably for the best you rather not know then.”
The comm crackles again. “Phil?” Techno’s baritone breaks the conversation.
“Yes, mate?”
“Everything alright?”
“We’re just fine. You’ll never guess what we found.”
“Something good I hope.”
“Depends on if you think a human is something good.”
“Dang. Dead probably, right?” Techno doesn’t seem to be phased, judging by his usual tone of voice, but Phil knows he’s just itching to see the thing for himself. Techno, as a being from a fairly dangerous planet himself, has always had a morbid curiosity for similar species.
“Not yet. It’s still breathing. Poor thing.” Niki fiddles with the slots of keycards they’ve found, trying them all until finally one registers and flashes green, clicking the door right open. The human doesn’t even twitch. Yeah, this thing is long past its due death. It would be a mercy to end the suffering thing now, but he’d have no clue what would even bring it mercy; killing these things is notoriously difficult.
“Hm. We could turn it in for study. They probably don’t have a body this fresh this far out. We could make a fortune.” Ah, ever the practical mind, Techno comes through, ruthless. Though he knows Techno must be burning with curiosity himself. He’ll likely try to study it as much as he’s able himself before they send it away.
“That’s horrible!” Niki says, and Phil has to restrain a bitter laugh. It’s the bitter reality, though, however painful it is to think of. He couldn’t imagine the hurt this thing must’ve been through. Sure, it’s a creature known for its violent nature, but it’s a living thing nonetheless, just as Philza is. It couldn’t possibly deserve such a fate.
“I don’t know, mate. We could always use a bit of extra funding.”
“Let me help it,” Niki says, rather than asking.
“It would be more merciful to just kill it, mate. We don’t want to drag on its pain for longer than it needs to be.” He tries to explain. The words aren’t kind, but they need to be said in their line of work. Niki is still learning.
“It could be worth it, though. If he’d lived that long, what’s the harm in trying to give it a future? What if it could live, Phil?”
“If you insist. But this is your problem if it lives. We’re not some medic facility for the lost and found. It’s your responsibility.”
Niki brightens up, clearly happy to have her way. He tries not to feel the guilt twist at his insides. She’ll have to learn the hard way then.
-
It was supposed to end. And yet Ranboo blinks himself awake. He notices a few things different right away.
Once he registers that indeed, he is awake and alive; he takes into account what he’s woken up to. His breathing got steadier. His vision isn’t spinning wildly, and there is a distinct lack of the feeling of thorns in his skull. He feels... better, which he hasn’t been able to say for a while. The only thing that remains is hunger, and somehow, he’s not really all that surprised. The pang in his stomach is ever-present, gnawing at his insides like a dog with a chewing toy, but he’ll take that over everything else any day. He’s barely gotten anything decent to eat, let alone regular meals. It’s not a big deal at this point, really.
The next he realizes is that he’s not in a cage anymore, or at least, not one that looks like a neglected animal pen.
He lies on top of something lifted just a bit over the floor, covered in a softer material- like a bed. Something gentle and warm that feels like heaven on his skin. Holy shit, he never thought he’d ever see something that looked like a bed ever again. It’s a weird thought, but he clings to the one nice thing he’s seen in ages. He soaks up the feeling of comfort like a sponge, aching for more. He might very well just fall asleep right here right now again, anything to die in a rare moment of peace. He thought he’d go crying and screaming, this right now is a much better note to end his life to. But nothing comes for him yet, and there’s no feeling of lingering pain or anything spelling his doom just yet, so he keeps on blinking.
The new… room around him is also different. It’s not so dark in here. In fact, it may even be a bit too bright, or maybe he just hasn’t seen regular light in a while, with how white the walls in this room seem to look. It’s not filthy, it looks well cared for, almost new with how clean and organized everything is. This room is tinted just a bit blue, the rest of the built-in features sporting silver frames and holding organized sets of containers and alien tools. The more he stares, the more put together the place looks. There’s not a single wire out of place, nor a thing that looks terribly broken or ruined beyond repair.
It’s still a bit cold, but not to the point that he can feel it in his bones. This room is nice. It’s better, objectively. It’s… he’s trying to figure out if he likes it or not. But this can’t be the same ship. Not a chance.
Which means they moved him. He’s in a new place now, and once again absolutely everything is beyond unfamiliar.
The very prospect is enough to make him sob. If he had food in his stomach, he would throw up right now too. What’s going to happen to him now? Why did they move him?
Then there are noises and footsteps approaching the door. He blinks a few times, shaking his head to maybe wake up even further, but the sound continues on. In that instance, Ranboo finds that his adrenaline works just fine, despite everything.
Ranboo is up with a jolt, and he scrambles for an escape with shaking limbs and a shuddering heart (and how nice it is to feel his heartbeat again too). After all this, Ranboo still has some fight left in him. Oh, they had made a mistake. Ranboo isn’t tied down. They didn’t even try it seems, the cuffs clamped tight around his wrists have vanished entirely, and the bed he was on hasn't even got anything to tie him up with. He's entirely free.
At the sound of the footsteps reaching the door, Ranboo finds the nearest crawlspace in the walls and scrambles inside like an oversized rat in a daring escape. When they catch Ranboo again, it is going to hurt, he just knows it. Ranboo can't help but make an effort to keep on living anyway.
—
Niki returns to the med bay only to find the room empty, and she then hopes the stars to have mercy on Phil. She has quite a few words to say. He said he wouldn’t kill it.