Final Space Oneshots

Escapism

"Gary?"

"Gary wake up!"

"Dad?"

Whoever was calling his name over and over again was really making his head throb. He let out a small groan, pushing the small hand that was cupping his cheek out the way.

"Gary!" The voice was more urgent as it came into focus and Gary found himself opening his eyes. He squinted in preparation of harsh light, but was surprised when there was none.

"Gary!" Avocato. The name organised his jumbled mind, easing the pain in his head. It wasn't the first time he had woken in a situation like this, but it never got any easier.

"Dad. You there?" Another, higher voice. Little Cato. Gary turned his gaze over to the voices slowly, swallowing. Damn, his head hurt.

The only reason he could spot them was because of the sheen in their eyes, and their faint outline silhouetted by the small cracks in the brick.

That's where they were – a brick room, dark and small. There were probably bars on the other side of the wall.

But why were they all here?

Yeah, he fully expects this himself – too many times he's got onto the wrong side of gangs and their territory. But seriously, why was a fourteen year old – who he last remembered making a cake for him – trapped in the same prison he was?

"Babe?" Avocato touched his shoulder and Gary jumped back automatically, pushing himself away. The situation was all too familiar.

Why were they here?

He probably had to wait again (like he always had done) for his brain to catch up. Judging by the way blood was running slowly down his cheek, he must've been bashed pretty bad.

As if a reminder, other wounds started to pulse in pain on his body. Off the bat, he knew they weren't too serious; his ribs were bruised, sure, but he could still breathe with them and that's what counted. His ankle was also stinging. Experience told him it was just a sprain.

"Whoa! It's us!" Avocato pulled him out of his thoughts. Gary squinted in the dark, but could barely see anything. He couldn't trust his own judgement.

"Prove it." He muttered. His throat was raw, and he wondered exactly how long he had been unconscious for.

"What?" Little Cato asked in disbelief. Gary shook his head feverishly.

"Just...just do it." Gary asked. "Please." He had to know.

Too many situations started like this.

"Hold out your hand." Avocato demanded. Gary, after a long pause, slowly uncurled his hand from his chest.

In the darkness, fingers met his own and pulled him closer, squeezing his hand tight.

"The clasp of friendship. Of partners." The Ventrexian assured him.

Gary let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Sorry. I just needed to check..." he muttered.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Gary knew the cat's tone of voice. It was a spill it, now tone that never failed to force him to tell the truth.

"I've just been in situations like this before. Nothing much." Gary breezed past the topic, stumbling to his feet. "What happened?"

"Gary sit down! You're hurt!" Avocato demanded. Gary shook his head, knowing Avocato could see the action better than he could.