They Rely On Hope. What Do I Rely On? - Tommyinnit Adoption AU

Chapter 117

TW: description of violence, injuries and ?mild? gore

Tommy stood, ready for whatever was to come. Arson remained on his side of the arena, gloating and egging the crowd on, but he did not come closer. Tommy was pretty sure that meant the fight hadn't begun.

A horn suddenly split through the noise of the crowd, echoing around the arena. Tommy flinched, stumbling back, his hands going up to his ears to block out the noise, only to remember he had a flail in one hand.

Tommy hissed, trying to catch his footing, panic streaming through him. His gaze darted around the arena, trying to find Arson. Where had he gone!?

The crowd was laughing, and Tommy knew it was about his panic but he couldn't help the blackness covering the sides of his vision as he tried desperately to make out the shape of Arson somewhere, anywhere.

Agony spiked through Tommy's weapon arm, forcing out a ragged scream, his other arm reaching up to the place the agony was piling out of. Tommy whipped his head around, coming face to face with Arson, who had somehow managed to get behind him.

A quick look down showed Tommy's arm completely impaled with the sword. Holy fucking shit.

Tommy knew better then to move, but he also knew that he couldn't risk the sword exiting the wound, it was holding back most of the blood loss.

In a split second of clarity, Tommy grabbed the flail in his left hand, and now using his uninjured arm, he flung the flail up and over his head, towards Arson behind him.

There was no crack of the flail hitting his opponent, but there was lessened tension on the sword impaling his arm. Tommy dashed forward, spinning around. Arson had let go of the sword to escape Tommy's attack, and was now unarmed.

Tommy scanned Arson's eyes, checking for panic. There was none. Arson still thought he could take Tommy. That was a fucking bad sign.

"Hey Theseus," Arson called, and when Tommy didn't respond, he simply continued, "Wanna know how I got my name?"

What? Before Tommy had time to fully register what was happening, Arson had slammed his left hand onto his right shoulder pad, and the pain in Tommy's arm suddenly spiralled out of control.

Tommy screamed, looking down at his arm to see the sword that was now somehow on fire!? What!? What had happened!? How!? Why was- why- how- what the fuck!?

Tommy gripped the sword by the handle, wrenching it out, screaming in agony as his clumsiness ripped an even larger hole in his arm, and then burnt that new rip. Once it was out, Tommy threw it to the floor, dashing away from it, horror filling him.

He refused to look down at his arm, refused to find out if he had doomed himself by ripping it out. All he wanted was to get the hell out of this place. He needed to get away, needed to run, to escape, to turn and never look back, but before he could find anything, he was shoved to the ground, a burning heat coming close to his face.

This wasn't where he would die. He could see it, the flaming sword plunging into his head and deep into his brain, but it was not a blood fight, maybe he could survive?

"Surrender," Arson hissed, his voice hoarse and distant, "Now. Quick."

"I surrender," Tommy whimpered, but Arson shook his head, exasperated.

"Make the symbol, it's not-" he started to hiss, before the room was flooded with darkness, lit only by the flaming sword, "Fuck, I'm sorry!"

Arson seemed to scream the last words, although Tommy knew the voice was quiet enough that only he could hear.

All to quickly, the lights were back on, only this time they were red. Blood red. Shit. Shit shit shit shit SHIT! Freddie had warned him. He had told Tommy what happened when those light turned red. They meant death. They meant that only one person was allowed to come out alive.

It had to be Tommy because he had to destroy this place. He had to make sure 17 was completely dead, and he couldn't do that if he died now.

"I'm sorry," Arson repeated, softer this time, drawing his flaming sword back. Tommy knew that he had seconds to escape, the moment Arson brought that weapon down, Tommy would be dead.

In a frantic panic, Tommy managed to draw his uninjured arm out, leaving his flail where it lay, chain under Arson's knee. Tommy shoved against Arson's chest, attempting to shove the boy off him. At the same moment, he rolled to the side, screaming at the pain it brought.

He stumbled to his feet, sprinting away from Arson in an attempt to get some idea as to what to do. The flail now lay unguarded in the middle of the floor, but Arson was now walking towards Tommy, wielding the flaming sword.

If Tommy had to guess from the scars and age of the boy, he would imagine Arson had been here for a few years at least. The moment where Tommy had been stuck under him and awaiting death, was the first time he had seen Arson's eyes fill with something real. It had been terror, it had been guilt, it had been anger, it had been pain. Remembered pain, expected pain, emotional pain. Arson had known what the lights meant, and he had not wanted it.

As far as Tommy could tell, Arson was not really a DemiBloodGod. He didn't want the reward of being at the top if it meant he had to kill people. Arson enjoyed the fight, but when it came down to it, the boy didn't want to be here any more then Tommy did. Arson was afraid. He was afraid of dying.

Tommy wasn't afraid of death, but he couldn't risk dying yet, and Arson wouldn't go down without a fight. So, Tommy knew he had to fight for his life.

Words: 1000

A/N: I spent about an hour researching what a flaming sword to the arm would do, if it would cauterise the wound, if it would ever close up, all of these interesting things, and I came up with no google answers, but then I remembered my sister is training to be a nurse, and so I asked her and she told me the answers lol