skynet

what caused this? perhaps it was the pent-up frustration and internalized hatred towards himself and his lack of perfection that finally exploded. after all, mirrors were windows to the soul and all he saw was a hideous, monstrous figure through the reflections of the glass beakers.

why, why can't he be perfect? why must every single experiment succeed on others but fail for himself? every step towards godhood felt so far and pointless, his fists clenching tightly as the nails dug deep into his palm. bits of blood were drawn, his vision becoming blurred with rage. he slams his hands against the desk repeatedly until cracks in the wood were visible.

his eyes lingered on the test tubes, finding another suitable target to take his anger out. one by one, piece by piece, dottore was going to destroy this laboratory until nothing is usable. his fist collide with multiple glass beakers, throwing them to the ground. he toss test tubes against the walls, more glass shattering against the hard surfaces.

experimental logs were ripped to shreds as he let out a violent scream. his mind was a intangible mess, rationality had long since cease from the moment. dottore didn't care if his precious research was ruined, as long as it's done by his own two hands.

the sounds of his violent outburst caught the attention of nearby subordinated, who were unfortunate enough to hear the situation unfold. the risk of entering the laboratory is extremely dire, somebody could truly face death by the doctor's hands. they remained silent, obedient to their positions as the noises grow louder and reckless.

they were fearful of their lives and yet helpless in this situation. quieter footsteps approach the terrifying scene, some of the fatui soldiers becoming a bit more at ease from the ninth's presence. "... how long has this been going on for?" pantalone waited for a response, most of them were hesitant to give him the truth.

one of the subordinates spoke up, their voice trembling from sheer terror. "f-for a while, lord regrator. he banned anyone f-from entering.." and this is restriction was strict, not a single person was allowed entry, not even pantalone himself. he hates feeling helpless while his husband was clearly tearing himself apart.

"very well, you are all dismissed. i will handle it from here." just like that, scattered footsteps ran away from their positions, finally seeking relief somewhere else. pantalone sighs, standing outside of the door patiently. it's not wise to enter while dottore was in this state, the risk of injury was exceededly high. all he can do is.. wait, even if it pained him so much.

the sounds of guttural screams filled the laboratory, the doctor inside was pulling at his hair tightly, ripping out a few chunks. his hands were beyond scarred from glass impaling into his skin. why must he suffer and writhe in pain? why him, why it is always him? why, why, why-!

what felt like an eternity, the sounds of distress finally came a complete halt. hesitantly, pantalone pushed the doors open and proceed with caution. he was careful to avoid stepping on broken glass shards, his heels walking towards his husband slowly. it was a devastating sight, dottore kneeling with his face towards the ground, bloody fists painted the white floor titles red.

he finally found the strength to rise himself up, turning his head in the direction of a familiar face. pantalone.. he truly was the only one who understood him. why does it seem so easy and comfortable to just crumble in the banker's presence? why.. why does he deserve this? such gentle eyes looking at him with love, not pity.

dottore couldn't get any words out, slowly falling to his knees once more against the hazardous ground. only the sight of a defeated man greeted pantalone, hearing the faint sounds of sobs threatening to slip out further.

pantalone sighs, finally taking a step closer to his husband and kneeling to his level. his arms wrap around the other man gently, pulling dottore into his arms. pantalone decided it wasn't an appropriate time to speak, only holding his husband who wept and cry like his life depended on it. a gentle hand caressed dottore's back in a circular pattern, pressing a soft kiss on his temple. it was just them and no one else was here to interrupt them.

pantalone pulls back enough to see his husband's face. his fingers lingered on the mask, seeking silent permission but once dottore shook his head, he understood that it's not the right time. pantalone nods, moving his hands to cup his cheeks instead, lightly brushing the back of his hand against dottore's wet cheek. ".. you don't have to talk to me. you don't have to explain yourself. just let me take care of you, please. i love you so much."

he waits patiently until dottore nodded, a smile tugging his face. pantalone gently helps his husband stand up, a hand supporting the doctor's back as they walk out of the ruined laboratory. each step carried them to their shared quarters, heading inside to treat dottore's injuries. he guides dottore to sit down on the bed while he goes retrieve a first aid kit from the bathroom.

once he came back with the supplies, pantalone sat down next to him and took his hands into his own. his expression soften, the injury in to the doctor's hands was much worse than expected. but with a pair of tweezer, pantalone carefully pluck out each individual shard, from the knuckles to the palms.

it was a bit concerning that dottore wasn't reacting to the pain, but knowing him, pantalone can only assume that this isn't new to the other man. he tends to the open wounds gently, trying not to sting his husband with the wipes. bandages begun to wrap around both of dottore's hands, finally reaching the end of his small treatment.

pantalone return the supplies back into the red box, putting it aside on the nightstand for now. before he had a chance to turn around fully, he already felt dottore leaning against him softly. today was exhausting and right now, dottores just wants to be near his husband and his calming presence.

his wish was granted when pantalone pulls him back into another hug, listening to faint drumming of the banker's heartbeat. his hands weakly grip the back of pantalone's shirt, returning the hug in silence. they sat their for a while, hugging each other in the quiet comfort of their bedroom.