Buried in Hell
The Invaders fanfiction



Disclaimer: The Invaders, its universe and characters belong to their legal owners, who unfortunately aren't me. This is an unofficial fanfiction that is not officially endorsed in any way. It was written solely for enjoyment and I make no money with it.

Title
Buried in Hell
Status
Completed (31st May 2021)
Genre
Science-fiction
Rating / warnings
Non-graphic death.
Spoilers
Spoilers for The Leeches.
Characters
David Vincent and an alien from the episode
Summary

When David Vincent is injured in the self-destruct of an underground alien base, he knows he needs help to make it out alive –wherever said help comes from. But sometimes, even cooperation isn't enough to avert a grim fate.

May episode of David Vincent's monthly death, alternative ending for The Leeches.

Written for the Killing a character once a month of 2021 AO3 challenge, with the following prompt:

5. "Blood loss" - Stabbing? Shooting? Crazy accident?

Hearing Tom Wiley call for him from the depths of the collapsing mine, of course David Vincent ran to his help. As he dodged falling debris and staggered between swaying beams, his hatred of the aliens fuelled his determination to go forward. He'd known how ruthless they were; he should've expected them to destruct their underground base the moment they realised they'd been infiltrated, with no regard for the captive scientists –nor themselves. He should've warned Tom they wouldn't just try to kill him if he were spotted, but to get rid of the all evidence at any cost. But David had been too glad of Tom's change of heart and too relieved he'd have help. Despite Tom's earlier moment of weakness, David refused to abandon him now.

Progressing was becoming harder and more dangerous by the second, and David cursed how maze-like the decommissioned mine was. As he hesitated at yet another fork, debris showered him and a denser cloud of dust sent him into a coughing fit. Tom's voice called him from the right-hand tunnel, only to be abruptly interrupted by a more violent explosion than the rest. David cried out as rocks fell upon him and a beam crushed his leg, and blackness engulfed him.


David didn't know how long he'd stayed unconscious. Judging by the dust still floating in the air and burning his airways, it couldn't have been that long, but the mine had become dark and silent like a tomb.

"Wiley!" he wheezed without yet daring to move. Only his own pained breathing answered him. One of the branches was still open to his side, judging by the echo of his voice; at least he wouldn't die of asphyxia any time soon. "Tom!"

Sighing grimly, he turned his attention to assessing his own predicament and pushing away the debris holding his right arm. His head hurt –he probably had a mild concussion– and he felt the stickiness of blood running down his temple, but it didn't seem life-threatening. More worryingly, his right leg was stuck under a fallen beam and likely broken. He could still feel his toes, however, which was reassuring.

As he removed debris from his chest and tried to sit up, a wave of pain in his side made him cry again: a piece of broken wood had embedded itself into his flesh. He had to get it out. He took a few deep breaths through gritted teeth before pulling it out, then he stayed motionless, panting, until the pain subsided to tolerable levels. Now, he needed to lever up the beam to free his leg, bandage the wound in his abdomen and, hopefully, drag himself all the way to the exit.

Feeling the ground around him, he found his gun but nothing of more immediate use. As he was trying to reach further, he heard steps staggering in his direction and saw the moving glow of a flashlight.

He tensed and armed his gun. "Tom?" he asked just as the person came into direct view.

One hand raised to protected his eyes from the glare, he aimed the gun: sure enough, he recognised the newcomer wore the typical aliens' outfit. Both of them froze as they went through their respective options.

David was the one who spoke first: "Help me get out and you have my word we'll let you go."

"It's useless, Vincent," the alien replied. "You're going to bleed out if you try to walk." He trained the light to the dark fluid drenching David's shirt and pooling under him.

"Well you'd better hope I make it. You don't want me to die here on top of everything else." David might be ridiculed and dismissed by the authorities, his death would be particularly suspicious in a place where kidnapped top scientists had been subjected to an unknown technology –unknown technology of which some remains would be found, even if they were too damaged for analysis. While it wouldn't be proof of alien activity in itself, it would attract an unwelcome attention.

The alien kept silent for a few seconds before coming closer and examining the beam trapping David's leg. "I should be able to lift it enough for you to crawl away," he said.

Holstering his gun, David answered with a nod. The alien put the flashlight down and limped to the fallen beam; thankfully, his own injuries weren't too severe. Soon enough, he took position under the higher side of the beam and lifted it a few inches with his shoulder, groaning under the strain.

As soon as David had dragged himself to the side and muttered a vague thanking, the alien dropped the beam and stepped away, rubbing his aching shoulder. "The bleeding has worsened," he frowned.

David was already taking off his shirt. "Help me bandage it."

It took them several attempts to hold David's side with the blood-soaked piece of cloth, and the alien didn't look convinced with the end result. "Will it be enough?"

"It'll have to," David stated.

He shivered from the cold and, as he tried to stand on his good leg, dizziness and nausea gripped him. When the giddy spell faded, he realised the alien was holding him up, the flashlight in the other hand.

David nodded. "Let's go."


Was it the discouragement of discovering the blocked tunnel between them and the exit or the combination of pain and blood loss? As the unlikely pair faced more rubble, David's good leg failed under his weight and the alien could only ease his fall.

"I need to rest," David said, only then realising how weak his voice sounded.

The alien nodded in silence and carefully laid him against the wall. The moment his naked skin touched the cold ground, David started shaking and couldn't stop a whimper from escaping him. He hadn't realised how much he'd relied on the alien's body heat until it was gone.

Said alien shone the flashlight on David's side and leg. "It's still bleeding," he commented worriedly.

"Then hurry to clear a way out." David felt too weak to take out his gun again, and anyway the threat his death represented to the aliens' secret was a stronger motivator.

He hugged his arms to try to preserve some warmth while keeping an eye on the alien and his work.


Although the alien's wounds were bearable, the growing exhaustion and pain slowed his efforts; but he toiled without rest nor complaint, carrying away piece after piece of debris. Finally, he felt a gust of relief and fresh air as he pushed the mine's external door out of the way with a grunt. He'd lost track of time while he'd been working; the starry night told him it must have taken hours. Nonetheless, at last they were free to live until they met again on opposite sides of the battlefield.

"Vincent, it's done," he announced. "Vincent?" He came back in to light up his ally of circumstances.

David was still seated against the mine's wall, but his eyes had stopped blinking and his breast moving. As he felt for a pulse, the alien already expected to find none –but still he was surprised how cold the body felt. David had been dead for a while.

The alien straightened up and let his gaze linger on his enemy's immobile form. Despite the lack of expression on his face, he was both frustrated his efforts had been in vain and worried for his people's secret. In the current circumstances, David was more of a threat dead than alive. Would it help if the body were never to be found? Likely not: whether David died in the mine or supposedly vanished in the desert, his demise would warrant a closer investigation all the same.

Making his decision, the alien turned away, walked out of the destroyed mine and hobbled into the night.

THE END

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Laura+web@Espezon.org

The Invaders fanfictions.
My home page (in French).
Last update: 31st May 2021.