There's so much panic. And yet, so much resistance as well. This is the type of idiot who would never accept death. And really, Scaramouche can't help basking in it. The sweetest victory there is.

"It is."

Scaramouche moves slowly, ignoring the damage done to his own body. He has had worse. After all, the Doctor has never been particularly gentle and well, when chasing strength there are sacrifices that need to be made. All in all, a fair exchange.

For a moment Childe can hear nothing. No voice in his head, no footsteps. Until there is a certain weight settling on top of him and if he might look up he is looking straight at Scaramouche's face, hovering close to his.

"I could end your suffering. Swift and painless. After all, you did put up a good fight." But there's so much panic inside the other. "But there are some things I want to find out first."

Truly, there is nothing on Scaramouche's face that looks sane. De grin around his lips is absolutely malicious and anyone can see he's getting so much pleasure out of this. Slowly he reaches out, removing some of Childe's armor as if he has all the time in the world. And then he slides his hands around the other's neck, squeezing slightly.

And there's one word Childe might hear, ringing inside his head.

"Beg"