Regrets
Dextyn woke up with the shocking realization that he couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep, but he felt for sure he must have unless he’d just intensely zoned out, but he didn’t do that too often. The Alternian gasped for air that barely came and clutched his through, each inhale feeling like slowing rusty nails. The worst part was he couldn’t even scream for help- not that he felt he even deserved help at this point, with what he’d done.
But he knew what to do. This had happened once before when he had slept without the mask on. It was pathetic how desperately he needed it. Without the mask, he couldn’t breathe for himself, just like he couldn’t walk without the legs or touch without the arms or hear without the ears or see without the eye. He was a mess, kept alive with metal and steel. He started wondering if this was an offshoot timeline, and in the real one, he had died like he was supposed to after the blast.
Thinking like that was gonna actually kill him though, and he had too much to do, too much to see to die now. He had to calm down and breathe. Closing his eyes, sore and puffy where he’d been crying, Dextyn forced himself to relax, letting his patched fragile lungs slowly replenish themselves with air until he could almost breathe naturally. Good. He was ok; Still feeling like a festering shit pile of all the most awful traits one could possibly have, but ok. Alive.
Shakily, Dextyn tried to stand and found his leg partially damaged. He could still walk, but it was more difficult and took a deal more out of him. He needed to fix it… but had neither the tools nor energy to do so. He was fucked, to say the least. He managed to limp over to a rock and sit down, wary of working too hard lest his breathing get worse. He needed his mask, but he’d left it with her, and no way was he going back. How could he possibly look her in the face after that?
When the sound of dogs not far from where he was, yipping and barking like that, made him lose whatever hope he retailed. That was it then. He was gonna die like this, attacked by wild dogs he used to eat. What sick twisted karma. He closed his eyes, leaned back, and waited.