Chapter Text
Sam stared at the deactivated portal. He was staring at it for almost an hour now. Ever since he let Quackity out actually. There weren’t many better things to do anyway. He did all the paperwork, he checked all the redstone, twice. He had several projects in various states of progress, but he didn't feel like continuing any of them. It's been a while since he actually finished something. There were no visitors other than Quackity and he left immediately after being done with the prisoner. He barely uttered a word with Sam. As always. If they didn't talk business or Quackity's personal problems they didn't talk at all. He couldn't leave, it was his job as the warden to stay here and watch over prison.
In conclusion he had nothing better to do than sit at his desk and stare into the wall. Well, actually he should go to the main cell and make sure the prisoner's wounds weren't life threatening. It was his job to keep him alive. It was annoying, but it had to be done. So,reluctantly he got up and headed to the main cell while stuffing some bandages into his inventory.
Upon arriving at the cell he was greeted by a familiar sight. It was hard to breathe, the air hot and heavy with the smell of blood, said liquid all over the floor and walls. As always, the prisoner was curled in a corner, further from the lava. Upon Sam's arrival, he flinched and curled into a smaller ball with a scared whimper. His whole body was shaking with silent sobs. It annoyed Sam. He was supposed to be a monster, he was a monster, how dare he act so scared, so pitiful, so human? He wasn't human. How dare he try to manipulate Sam like this. He was the bad guy, Sam was good. The monster deserved this. He wanted this. If he just gave up the information they wanted, this could have stopped. Quackity wouldn't stop.
"Prisoner, get up."
Sam frowned when the blonde didn't comply and just sobbed on the floor. He wasn't in the mood for this. Reaching down, he grabbed the prisoner by the collar and dragged him to his feet. The blonde managed to stand for maybe 5 seconds before he collapsed back down. He made a move to stand back up, but to no avail. The prisoner gave up and hunched over himself, tears rolling down his face.
"P-please, s-sir, I-I'm sorry. I c-can't s-stand. I'm s-s-sorry. P-please."
Sam was about to cut this pathetic act when he noticed the unnatural way the prisoner's legs were bent. He really couldn't stand. It'd be easier to check his wounds if he stood, but there was no helping it if his physical condition didn't allow it. The prisoner's cries and begs went unnoticed by the warden.
"I'm s-sorry, sir. P-please s-sir. So-"
"Quackity is not here, cut the act."
The blonde's mouth clamped shut. He shied more into the corner with a little whimper, but didn't say anything else. Sam squatted down to him and ignored his attempts to get out of his reach. He just wanted to be done with this so he can go back to ... staring at the wall? his duties. He didn't want to be here longer than necessary. Eyeing the prisoner's body, he looked for any wounds that could cause death. Several deep cuts were still bleeding and might make him bleed out if they didn’t stop soon. His legs were also broken, but that wasn't life threatening. Trying to do anything with them would be a waste of Sam's time. The way the prisoner was curled in a corner was rather impractical, so the warden grabbed him and dragged him out despite his weak protests. The blonde tried to crawl back there, but Sam's iron grip on him held him in place.
"Stay still."
Younger whined, but stopped trying to get away. His breaths were still heavy and hitching, he was still acting. But when Sam let go of him he made no move to pull away. He sat slumbered against the wall, not moving an inch. Seeing him obey, Sam reached into his inventory for bandages and began to clean the wounds. From up close they were worse than he previously thought. He'd need a healing potion. Again. What a waste, he'll be in the same state tomorrow anyway. With an annoyed sigh Sam turned his attention to the first wound.
It was a nasty cut, sword or axe most likely. It didn't really matter. Why couldn't he just give them the book so they'd be done with this? Sam wouldn't have to go to this cell so often, and he could just peacefully ... stare at the wall? do his job without having to bother with this. Though even if the prisoner gave up the revive book, he could not leave the prison, but he wouldn't have to do this. Wouldn't have to remind himself that it's a monster before him, not human.
There was a sharp intake of breath, and Sam realized he tightened the bandage a little too much. It wasn't like it mattered. The prisoner's comfort wasn't important. He just had to stay alive. It'll be fine as long as he stays alive. Sam pulled out a healing pot and pressed it to the blonde's lips. He tried to pull away, but with the wall behind him, there was nowhere he could go.
"Drink."
The prisoner shut his eyes tightly and let Sam pour the potion into his mouth. He began coughing almost immediately, but managed to swallow it all down. He knew better than to spit out the only thing that could close some of his wounds and lessen some pain. He knew more than well that Sam wouldn't waste another pot on him.
The creeper hybrid watched the largest cuts close while he waited for the prisoner's coughs to stop and his breathing to even out. He won't die. Now just a few more bandages and Sam can leave this cell and the monster it holds behind. At least until Quackity's next visit.
"S-warden?"
The prisoner kept his gaze on the floor, his voice scratchy, barely above a whisper when he spoke.
"I-if it's not too much-too much trouble ... could-could I please get s-some water? Please."
This made Sam angry. The prisoner had no right to ask him for anything. It wasn't like there wasn't water in his cell.
"You don't get to ask for things, prisoner. There's water in your cell, go get it."
"I-I'm sorry- I-"
Blonde shrunk back and shut his mouth under Sam's stern gaze. Good. Creeper returned to his job. The following minutes passed in silence. The prisoner didn't try to ask for anything again. When Sam was done he stood up and eyed the prisoner again. His eyes stopped on the blonde's broken legs.
Could I please get some water?
Both of his legs were broken.
There's water in your cell, go get it.
He wasn't able to stand. He probably wouldn’t be for a few days, by the look of it.
It clicked together in Sam's mind. He wouldn’t be able to go and get it, not with all these wounds. Quackity had been a bit harsher lately, and had needed to fix the prisoner even before leaving the cell. It saved Sam trouble, but he didn't know about the prisoner's condition. His dried, cracked lips indicated that he hadn't drunk in a while. Well, having him die of dehydration would make all Sam's effort to keep him alive go to waste. He pulled out an empty potion bottle and stepped closer to the cauldron. The water in it was murky and brownish, undoubtedly from blood. It was disgusting. He filled the bottle with it regardless and pressed it to the younger's lips.
"Drink, I might not be this kind the next time."
The blonde's eyes widened when he realized what he was given and he quickly drank all of the water, almost choking on it several times.
"T-thank you, thank you warden."
"That’s right, you should be grateful, prisoner."
Sam pearled across the lava and headed back to the lobby. Leaving the bloody cell and the monster it was holding behind him. Leaving his once friend in a box covered in his own blood.