This is probably OOC at times, but to be fair, I don't think anyone is really themselves when they're dying. Or at least not in the sense that they would be making the same decisions if they were fully functional and death wasn't knocking. Judge for yourself, I guess. I'm just stemming this from Black Manta's seemingly unconditional love he has for Kaldur and going from there.

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So, this is how death would take him.

How...unbecoming.

His back was pressed against the wall, legs sprawled out into the hallway. Blood seeped from his shoulder, soaking into his skin and dripping out from his armored suit. The classless prick got in one lousy, lucky shot and in minutes he would cease to exist - a hapless corpse rotting hundreds of meters beneath the ocean's surface.

There was little glory in this death. If anyone was to kill him, it should have been that worthless king. And guaranteed, he would have found a way to bring him along. Death needed no price, but he was more than willing to sate its appetite with another offering. Perhaps, in exchange, it would have left his son and Tigress alone for decades to come, greeting them in ripe old age, together. He was sure Klarion must know the creature somehow...not like such a connection could help him now.

Another battle was proceeding down the hall. Sportsmaster had left to help his daughter it would seem. They were both sure of his death, regardless. He could only breathe in and out, in and out, and hope Tigress made it out of this ship alive with Kaldur.

Kaldur, his son. His beautiful, wonderful son. How could he do this to him? Wither away when he was still recovering, mind still scattered, memories blurred? When the witch who had committed this unspeakable crime still lived? What kind of father did this to their only child?

Not a very good one, he heard her voice bite into his ears and for a moment she flashed before him: snarl upon her full lips, eyes narrowed and crazed. Our son might be moments from his own death, David.

Sha'lain'a...he wanted so desperately to close his eyes, to hang his head and just rest. But he knew that would be the end of it all. I'm dying...I fought off Sportsmaster as best as I could...

And you would do nothing more? her words scorched him in ways only she knew how. Of course he wanted to do more - everything more! But the blood was pooling out of him and his breathing was growing labored - what else could he give Kaldur'ahm?

Are you not still breathing? she whispered into his neck and he swore he could feel her lips press against his jaw. Are you not still living? Prove to me, to him you are a good father. That you could have been the very man I once thought you to be.

Her smoldering eyes vanished from his sight and soon after the taste of blood stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard as he prepared himself to stand. Sha'lain'a was right (as always). Death might have found him, hovering above his head and clouding his vision like a swarm of dust, but it would have to wait to take its feast. And assuredly it would. Black Mantas were a rare breed.

Grabbing a hold of the floor, he propelled himself off the wall, his legs shaking beneath him. The scream that ripped into the empty hallway could not be contained, could not be controlled anymore. Once upon summers of revolution and startlingly blue eyes, pain had been endured and never voiced. It was for the weak, the oppressed, and those who felt and sensed the wrath bristling in his fingers. But now...now, he had only one mission left before his life, filled with regret and want, ended.

Pride, when it came to his Kaldur'ahm, was out of the question.

He leaned against the wall, took a breath, and inched towards the clashes of metal and shouts up ahead. His ears couldn't pick up anything that sounded like Tigress, but then again, his hearing just might be failing him. If he was sure of anything besides his oncoming death, Tigress would never abandon Kaldur. She too would protect him until her dying breath.

Do you remember when we were like that? he asked Sha'lain'a, hoping she would flash across his vision once more. I fought like the pirates of old. I slaughtered men upon men for you, to keep you safe from the travesties you endured long ago. And you did the same. Killed, plundered...everything to keep my dream alive. You made a powerful ally, my queen.

As he absorbed the memories of her laugh ringing clear into the night sky, her skin encased in hot, white sand, her fingers tracing circles across his back, the battle up ahead stopped. Two sets of footsteps tapped back down the hall and towards the docking bay while another headed in his direction. They were fast and earnest, nearly tripping over themselves as the last words of their father lodged into their head.

"Black Manta!" a voice yelled as he slid across the wall, inching closer and closer to his son. "Sir, where are you?"

The relief that he felt at the sound of Tigress's gruff voice was unexpected, but it still soothed his downtrodded spirit like a balm and he almost staggered back to the floor in joy. For Tigress was still alive. His son would not be alone.

There was still hope for something more.

"Sir!" the exclamation came only feet away from him. He directed his gaze towards the sound and found a blur of orange and black rushing towards him, "Oh my god, Black Manta - sir - We have to get you to the infirmary, immediately!"

He could have chuckled had he the spirit to do so. Had she ever shown this much concern when it came to Kaldur during comatose? He had overheard a few of their more private conversations, but even then she had kept her reserve. Perhaps she'd known more than he that Kaldur would undoubtedly return. Beneath all the viciousness and ferocity still beat the heart of a woman after all.

And this one knew he was dying.

"It is too late, Tigress," he wheezed out, his voice feeling distant, disassociated. Death was growing impatient it seemed. It tugged at his soul, continuing to make his presence known. "My time is up."

"No..." Tigress trailed, leaning forward and taking him by the shoulders, "No! You can't go! Not when Kaldur is just about to fully function again. You can't do that to him! You can't die, sir! You can't!"

It might have been his blurry vision or delusions, but Kaldur's partner trembled, tears welling up in her eyes. She cared...she cared so very much...

Just like Sha'lain'a had.

"You really do love him," his voice softened and he thought he might be smiling, "don't you?"

Tigress nodded, "Yes. I do. And - and he loves you too! He really does, sir! That's why we have to get you fixed up and - "

"Take me to my son," he said.

"But, sir - "

"That is an order, Tigress," he hissed. "Will you really deny a dying man his last wish?"

There was a pause before the mercenary took him into her arms, dragging him along the hall towards Kaldur's room.

"I lied," he chuckled, the taste of blood on his tongue becoming all too strong, "I have one more order to give you."

"What is it, sir?" she asked, her voice strained from overexertion. He hadn't asked how she escaped her fight from Sportsmaster and his daughter, nor did really care. As long as she and Kaldur were safe, he could leave in peace.

"Leave this life," he said. She paused at his words before continuing on again, knowing how little time they had. It might have been the loss of blood, the endless memories of Sha'lain'a that streamed out like a movie, or the wave of regret crashing into his chest and pooling into his lungs, but he didn't want Kaldur to avenge him. He didn't want Kaldur to lose love again (for he knew all too well that once was enough). Ever since Kaldur reentered his life, there was only one thing David wished for more than anything else in the world.

Above all else, he wanted Kaldur to live.

"Sir...do you mean that?" she asked as they turned, Kaldur's room about fifty meters away.

"With all my heart," he replied, "Kaldur is my son and you are my daughter in all but law...I was an angry fool and I still am. I wanted power and because of that, I have suffered. And even now, in death, I still want it. But Kaldur doesn't...he has found you. He is at, will be at peace.

"Promise me," he whispered as they stood outside the door, "Promise me you'll stay by his side and give him the life he deserves."

She opened the door, "I will. I promise."

He turned his head to the bed and sure enough, Kaldur sat there, his back pressed up against the bedpost. By now the vacant look was almost gone, not like he could really tell. Every color was bleeding into the other and it was only with the steady direction of Tigress that he found his way to the chair beside Kaldur.

When he was positioned securely onto the chair, Tigress asked, voice broken and soft, "Would you like me to leave?"

He shook his head, "No, you may stay. Kaldur will need you soon."

It was then Kaldur's voice cut through, piercing his skin and heart like no bullet could, "Father? What...is wrong?"

"Kaldur'ahm, my son," he tried so very hard to keep his voice light and to smile, but everything was swarming, twisting. Sha'lain'a continuously flickered into his sight, her age and looks varying with each blink of an eye. His hands shook and he couldn't tell if the liquid coating them was that of blood or tears, "Take my hand."

He blindly threw his arm onto the bed, sighing as he felt Kaldur's strong yet delicate hold. Their fingers interlaced and David squeezed.

"Kaldur'ahm," he started, knowing the words he spoke now would be his last. Death was biting at his neck; Sha'lain'a was no longer there to protect him. Better make this count, "My son...I only wish that I was able to be there for you...when you will be at your happiest. Please, my son, live. Be kind to your mother. Love Tigress with everything and more. And above all else, know that I love you."

His head bobbed, the white room fading away, Death casting a black veil over his eyes. He felt Kaldur's hold on his hand tighten, words coming in and out like a busted radio. Crying, screams, blue eyes, her laugh, his blood, and -

"Father! Please, I love you too!"

Despite himself, David smiled, finally allowing Death to embrace him. Somewhere, somehow, Kaldur would find his paradise.

And no matter what winding road Death sent him off on, for David that was more than enough.