Well. Their captors, technically. But to Luke, a man who'd always believed that a person's pain is uniquely their own and incomparable to anyone else's, this is an unanswerable question. Even now, with his mind warped, he isn't thinking in terms of her determination versus his--he is only trying to fight through the convoluted mess of memories, the clash of emotions in his mind.
This will end if he grabs the bomb. That is the only thing he knows is certain.
But he's a little too slow. He's bleeding just a little too much. He only has one hand to grab the bomb with, and his vision is going white, his ears ringing. He's taller than her, and closer, and it's only those advantages that put the bomb in his hand before she gets close enough to make this hard for him.
He grabs it--
Go, dummy! They'll catch up to us if someone doesn't stay to hold them off!
--and, with his dwindling consciousness, throws it as hard as he can, trying to get it away from where he last remembers Sheba was.]
well, she's surprised. because he didn't throw it directly at her. at the same time, she's not surprised. everything is such a muddle and a mess in her head.
but.
this is a relatively small cell. there's only so much space to chuck the bomb away, and it hits the wall and bounces back at exactly the right angle to place it closer to sheba than luke. she's aware of it in snapshots - there's some time. she could pick it up and throw it at him. she could throw herself over it to keep it from exploding worse. there are many things she could do, but -
her limbs give out on her again, and she finds herself falling to the ground again. she twitches, trying to force herself back up to her feet, to do anything other than lay here and wait for the explosion, but though she strains against it - she can't. her limbs won't obey her, and she's just...
she's stuck. bleeding out, here in this cell, just another part of some twisted experiment.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Well. Their captors, technically. But to Luke, a man who'd always believed that a person's pain is uniquely their own and incomparable to anyone else's, this is an unanswerable question. Even now, with his mind warped, he isn't thinking in terms of her determination versus his--he is only trying to fight through the convoluted mess of memories, the clash of emotions in his mind.
This will end if he grabs the bomb. That is the only thing he knows is certain.
But he's a little too slow. He's bleeding just a little too much. He only has one hand to grab the bomb with, and his vision is going white, his ears ringing. He's taller than her, and closer, and it's only those advantages that put the bomb in his hand before she gets close enough to make this hard for him.
He grabs it--
Go, dummy! They'll catch up to us if someone doesn't stay to hold them off!
--and, with his dwindling consciousness, throws it as hard as he can, trying to get it away from where he last remembers Sheba was.]
1/2
well, she's surprised. because he didn't throw it directly at her. at the same time, she's not surprised. everything is such a muddle and a mess in her head.
but.
this is a relatively small cell. there's only so much space to chuck the bomb away, and it hits the wall and bounces back at exactly the right angle to place it closer to sheba than luke. she's aware of it in snapshots - there's some time. she could pick it up and throw it at him. she could throw herself over it to keep it from exploding worse. there are many things she could do, but -
her limbs give out on her again, and she finds herself falling to the ground again. she twitches, trying to force herself back up to her feet, to do anything other than lay here and wait for the explosion, but though she strains against it - she can't. her limbs won't obey her, and she's just...
she's stuck. bleeding out, here in this cell, just another part of some twisted experiment.
how pathetic.]
2/2
sheba is dead.]