#afnaa

No words ver.

“What… have you done…?”

“You should be asking yourself the same question.”

The sound of his own labored breathing filled the room, interrupted only by harsh ‘be quiet’s from Soul when he couldn’t hold back his agonized, near screams.

The room was dim. It was hard to see. Or maybe, more likely, his vision was blurring.

Soul’s hands were covered in a dark substance. Mind couldn’t tell whose blood it was in the dark. Likely, it was his own, coating everything from the bandages to the bedsheets to Soul’s hands, but the glint of liquid on his scythe made Mind’s surety falter.

“Hurt—hurt him?”

Mind’s voice was truly, barely audible. And the pain and focus it took to even get the words out in the first place didn’t leave him with the energy to raise his voice as well. The concern for Heart, his friend, persevered through the blinding pain in his shoulder… and neck… and back… and arm… and—

“Why the fuck do you care?” Soul hissed, pushing a little too hard on Mind’s newest wound as he half-assedly tucked gauze over the injury, causing Mind to scream out loudly. Soul only silenced him again, clearly more furious than before.

Silence.

“He got what he needed. Happy?”

No, Mind thought. No, this was the worst possible outcome—

More silence. Mind allowed tears to fall. Then finally, a gasp for the air needed to speak.

“You—“ Quiet, quiet, quieter than before, Mind’s voice broke off noticeably. “You will fix… this.”

Fix this injury. Fix whatever he had done to Heart. Fix the situation and make proper amends.

The vessel laughed incredulously, as if he didn’t have the power to mend the wounds caused, ultimately, by himself.

“Fix this?” He almost seemed amused, if not for the absolute fury behind his hissed words. “You fucked this up. You did this to yourself. You let Heart get caught up in your shit.”

A mistake! This was all a mistake! A misunderstanding! Mind wanted to scream out, explain that it was his idea. Explain to Soul that this was supposed to help. It was fake! All of it!

He could not. The weight of Soul’s words crushed him, guilt digging its way into his chest through the hole in his shoulder.

“So, no. I will not be fixing this. You are dealing with this yourself. I’m tired of stepping in.”

Soul stood, leaving Mind’s shoulder barely wrapped and not at all cared for in a way that mattered. Mind wanted to be sick. He could feel blood oozing into his now-ruined bed, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Soul merely grabbed his scythe and made way to exit the room. In the light from the hall, Mind could only make out the dim silhouette of the man.

“I hope you learned your lesson. And if not? Well, maybe having some time to deal with the consequences of your actions will do you some good.”

Soul’s airy voiced grew more discordant with every word, the natural melody in his tone growing terribly unpleasant.

Mind sneered, the small action sending shooting pain through his neck, echoing to become unbearable agonizing pain throughout the rest of his body.

“Go… to hell.”

Soul laughed.

“Having to deal with you two? I’m already fucking there.”

The door slammed shut so hard that the reverberation rattled in his wound.