#polytrix angst

Rumi, who just took a large claw to the arm. Rumi who they SAW get hit. But when they try to look at it flips absolutely shit and panics. Shoves them away, snaps at them and argues that's it's not that bad when they KNOW, It was a deep cut. Who is deflecting and insisting they look at their wounds instead.

Rumi who got injured durring the fight and who's on the ground cradling her leg, sobbing from the pain, but when they approach panics and scrambles away like a wounded animal. Backing herself in a corner and demanding they stay away because yes, she's in incredible pain, maybe has a broken leg, but she got nicked durring the fight and her sleeve is torn. Who can barely think clearly through the pain and rapid pounding of her heart but doesn't need to because hiding is so ingrained into her it's instinct. Who can think and speak just enough to push them away.

Rumi alone in her room. Rolled up towel between her teeth. It's there to muffle her sobs and small cries of agony as much as it's to keep her from biting her tongue as she stiches herself up. Taking breaks between to gasps and pant and steady her shaking hands before stabbing the needle in again. Celine had to teach her to do it herself because she couldn't always be there when it needed to happen. She's on the ground, alone, surrounded by bloody clothes and medical supplies and bandages. She's panting, and sweating and choking down sobs of pain but she can't go to anyone, not even Zoey and Mira, not even for a soft whisper of comfort because it risks their suspicion. Afterwards she curles up on the floor, holding a bloody hoodie to her mouth to hide her sobs, shaking because she's too exhausted and in pain to get up. She falls asleep alone on the floor surrounded by bloody bandages and stiching thread while Zoey and Mira laugh in the next room over.

Rumi using a mirror to pick shrapnel out of her shoulder because she was thrown into a table durring the last fight and got all sorts of broken bits jabbed into her wound and has just been ignoring it.

Rumi who's curled up with Derpy, sobbing into his fur, because she can't be so vulnerable with Zoey or Mira. Because then they'll ask questions. They'll want to know why she's in so much pain. Rumi who refuses herself comfort because that's an indication that something is wrong. Who refuses to show her pain because that draws unwanted attention.

Rumi who launches herself to her girls' side whenever one if then is hurt and wastes zero time in making sure they're taken care of but will walk the 3 miles home with a bleeding wound because it happens to be on her upper arm.

Rumi who is carefully bandaging Zoey's leg with comforting words while her own screams at her, ignored.

they had left about ten minutes ago. rumi’s laughter had echoed behind her as she reminded zoey to “please stick to the list this time,” and zoey’s half-joking, half-serious reply was something about buying five different kinds of cereal anyway. they had both looked back at mira one last time before leaving, asking again if she was sure she didn’t want to come.

she’d smiled. nodded. said she was going to clean up the place a bit.

they believed her. they always did.

once they were gone, she moved. slowly. deliberately.

she made her way to zoey’s room first. her hands were cold as she pulled open the top drawer of the desk, careful not to shift anything too much. everything was already so organized. sticky notes stacked in color-coded piles, pens aligned in a neat row. she found a little gap between a notebook and a candle and slid the envelope in.

“to my dear zoey.”

she read the words once before shutting the drawer.

she didn’t linger. she couldn’t.

next, she walked down the hallway toward rumi’s room, passing by a few framed photos on the wall. their faces smiled back at her, arms wrapped around each other, laughing, caught mid-spin or mid-song or mid-chaos. she used to look at those pictures and feel like she belonged in them. now she couldn’t even look without feeling like she was staring at someone else’s life.

rumi’s drawer was thinner, hidden at the top of the nightstand. she opened it, tucked the second envelope underneath a few scattered lip gloss tubes and sticky notes filled with lyrics—half-rhymes and crossed-out verses in bright pink ink. 

she closed the drawer and walked out before the weight in her chest dragged her down completely.

she went to her room last.

the lights were off, but the blinds were open just enough to let in the grey haze of the afternoon. everything looked washed out. blurred. like the world was softening around the edges.

she opened her closet and stared at it for a while before reaching for the old huntrix t-shirt. the fabric was thin now, the logo barely visible. it still smelled faintly like lavender and hotel laundry detergent. she pulled it over her head and then grabbed the gray sweatpants from the shelf above. the ones they all bought together during a layover in seoul. the ones that matched.

the ones that used to make her feel like she had a home.

she sat on the edge of her bed, her knees tucked up slightly, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.

then, slowly, she reached up and took off her glasses.

and that was when the tears finally came.

there was no sound. no sobbing. just wet streaks down her cheeks and a tightness in her throat that made it hard to breathe.

her mind was loud, though. it always was.

you’re not built for this.

you thought you found a family?

you’re just… too much.

you were the mistake in the equation. the shadow in the light. the thing that doesn’t fit.

and no matter how many songs they wrote, how many photos they took, how many times zoey or rumi called her family… she couldn’t believe it. not really. not when the voice in her head kept screaming that one truth she could never seem to silence:

you don’t belong anywhere.

she wiped at her cheeks uselessly, the tears still falling. it had been… twenty minutes? maybe thirty. long enough for the sun to dip behind the neighboring building, turning the room a shade darker.

she stood, her legs shaky under her weight, and made her way to the bathroom.

not fast. not slow. just moving.

there was something calm about the way she walked. like she already knew what was coming next.

she didn’t look in the mirror. couldn’t.

the apartment was still silent.

no more voices. no more distractions. no more pretending.

and somewhere, deep beneath all that quiet, something had already decided.

she stood in front of the cabinet, the soft hum of the bathroom fan filling the silence. shelves lined with skincare bottles, a stack of neatly folded towels, a few half-used perfumes… and, tucked into the far back corner, medicine.

her hand hovered there for a second before reaching in and grabbing the bottle.

no hesitation. just… acceptance.

in her other hand was her water bottle, the one she always carried around the house. she set it down gently on the counter, the sound barely a whisper against the marble. with slow, deliberate fingers, she twisted the cap off the pill bottle and shook out a small handful. ten, maybe fifteen. she didn’t count.

they sat in her palm, tiny and silent and still. she stared at them for a long time.

then, slowly, she looked up.

her reflection in the mirror was a little blurry without her glasses, but she could still make out the outline of her face. the hollowness under her eyes. the way her mouth didn’t quite know how to smile anymore.

there was something final about the way she exhaled.

not dramatic. not loud. just tired.

she set the pills down on the counter and turned away.

crossed the hall to her nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out her headphones.

on the way back to the bathroom, she plugged them into her phone, the cord trailing slightly behind her. her hands moved on autopilot, practiced, familiar.

she slipped the headphones over her ears like she’d done a thousand times before.

but this time, she didn’t pick something soft. she didn’t pick something sad.

instead, she scrolled until she found it.

“how it’s done.”

one of their biggest songs. loud. powerful. a little cocky. a little messy. something they poured their hearts into when everything still felt like magic.

and most of all, it was theirs.

the beat dropped just as she stepped back into the bathroom. the melody filled her head, drowning out the thoughts just enough to make space. the song played low, but it was still there.

it wasn’t a goodbye song. it was a memory. it was laughter echoing in a crowded studio at 3am. it was rumi spinning in her desk chair, zoey dancing on top of the coffee table, mira curled up with her guitar, half-asleep but smiling.

she wanted that to be the last thing she felt. the closest thing to a real family she’d ever known.

tears began to fall, quiet and steady.

she didn’t wipe them away.

she picked up the water bottle.

took one pill.

swallowed.

another. and another.

the music kept playing in her ears, steady and bright, like it didn’t know what was happening. like it was trying to keep her grounded one last time.

“better sit down for the show cause i’m gonna show you, how it’s done done done!”

she let out a small, broken laugh.

more tears fell.

but she kept going.

one by one.

slowly.

quietly.

and the song played on.

the pills went down easier than she expected.

one after another.

the water was cold. her throat felt tight, but she didn’t stop.

her fingers shook a little as she reached for the last few.

they slipped across her palm, tiny things that somehow felt heavier than anything she’d ever carried.

she swallowed again.

again.

until the bottle was almost empty.

the music still played in her ears, upbeat and defiant.

it didn’t match the moment at all. and maybe that’s what made it feel right.

if she had to go, she didn’t want it to be to silence.

she didn’t want it to be to the sound of her own thoughts.

she wanted it to be this.

this song.

this echo of a life that almost felt real.

this reminder that, for a little while, she’d belonged somewhere.

she lowered herself to the floor, back against the cold cabinet, legs stretched out in front of her. the bathroom tiles pressed through the fabric of her sweatpants. her hands rested in her lap.

she leaned her head back against the wood and closed her eyes.

she could still hear their voices from earlier.

rumi teasing zoey.

zoey pretending to be offended.

their laughter following them out the door.

for a moment, she let herself pretend they were still here.

that they’d come knocking on the bathroom door any second.

that they’d call her name.

but the door stayed closed.

the apartment stayed quiet.

and so she just sat there.

waiting.

letting the song fill the silence.

letting the world blur around the edges.

zoey stood in the candy aisle like she was on a mission.

“okay but hear me out,” she said, grabbing a ridiculous armful of snacks. “i just know mira is gonna thank me later. she’s gonna adore me. i’m literally the best.”

“you’re literally insane,” rumi laughed, shoving the cart toward the checkout. “this looks like you robbed a vending machine.”

“i have taste,” zoey huffed dramatically, tossing in another bag of sour gummies. “this is the essence of fine dining.”

rumi snorted. “wow, you didn’t even spend an hour debating chips today. who are you and what have you done with the real zoey?”

zoey flicked her shoulder with a grin. “personal growth.”

they both laughed, but… it wasn’t quite the same. there was an emptiness trailing behind the laughter. mira’s voice missing from the mix. she should’ve been there with them, arguing over chocolate brands or sneaking extra cookies into the cart.

“we got done so fast without her,” zoey muttered, sliding the last item onto the conveyor belt.

“too fast,” rumi agreed, but smiled anyway. “she’s gonna freak when she sees all the snacks though.”

zoey grinned as they walked out, the sun beaming down on the parking lot. “i wonder if she’s having fun scrubbing the sink like a little gremlin.”

“i’ll call her,” she added, pulling her phone out and hitting mira’s contact.

ring.

no answer.

“hm. guess she’s really into it,” she shrugged, tossing the bags into the trunk.

“probably reorganizing the spice rack alphabetically again,” rumi teased, turning up the volume on the car radio.

one of their songs started playing. they jammed out as they drove home. 

“fit check for my nepalm era!!” 

they both screamed in unison for mira, belting out the lyrics like it was the finale of a concert.

they laughed the whole ride back, harmonizing badly and talking over the chorus, throwing guesses about what mira would say when she saw the candy mountain.

but the second they parked, rumi tried stepping out, only for her pant leg to get caught awkwardly on the car seat.

“OH MY GOD,” she groaned. “not again. i swear these pants are cursed.”

“you want scissors?” zoey asked, already jogging toward the building. “i gotchu!”

“i’ll keep yelling at the car while you do that,” rumi called after her.

zoey laughed as she reached their door, unlocking it and stepping inside. it was quiet. not unusual. maybe mira was napping or still deep into her fake cleaning spree.

she made a beeline for her room, still humming the end of their song, and opened her desk drawer.

scissors were right there.

but something else caught her eye.

a white envelope, resting on top of her notebook.

her fingers paused in mid-air.

the handwriting on the back was familiar.

“to my dear zoey.”

her stomach sank just a little.

this wasn’t here before. she hadn’t seen this. no one mentioned anything about letters.

“what the hell is this…?” she whispered, more to herself than anything.

she picked it up and opened it carefully.

her eyes scanned the first few lines.

and her smile dropped.

the room suddenly felt colder. the music in her head faded. her breath caught in her throat, like her body suddenly forgot how to move.

“no…”

she read further, and her heart started racing.

her hands were shaking.

“rumi—” her voice cracked.

“RUMI!!”

she bolted from her room.

something was wrong.

really, really wrong.

before running to find rumi, zoey’s feet skidded to a stop in front of mira’s bedroom door.

she banged on it. once, twice, three times, harder each time.

“mira?”

no answer.

“mira, c’mon! open the door!” her voice cracked. “this isn’t funny! open the fucking door!”

she jiggled the handle. locked.

her heart dropped to her stomach.

“shit—shit, no.”

panic surged through her. without thinking, she sprinted down the hallway and into rumi’s room, tearing through every drawer, her hands shaking as she threw aside notebooks, makeup bags, even a tangled mess of jewelry.

and then she saw it.

an envelope, mostly hidden under a sticky note with their handwriting.

“to my dear rumi.”

her breath hitched as she snatched it up. she didn’t even open it. didn’t need to. she could already feel the weight of it in her chest.

tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she ran, full speed out of the room, down the stairs, the letter fluttering in her hand like a ghost trailing behind her.

outside, rumi was still by the car, now muttering under her breath and fighting her pant leg like it was a mortal enemy.

she looked up, startled, as zoey came flying toward her.

“woah, are you oka—?”

“RUMI!” zoey’s voice cracked, her eyes wide with panic and wet with tears.

she choked on the words. “mira—mira killed herself!”

rumi froze. “what? no—what are you saying?!”

“she left us letters,” zoey said, her voice trembling, holding out the one addressed to rumi like it was something burning her fingers. “she locked her door and she’s not answering and i—i found mine and—god, rumi—”

rumi yanked the letter from her hands and ripped it open right there. her eyes scanned the words, and the moment they registered, something inside her broke.

“no. no no no no no. what the fuck is this?”

her voice shattered.

she stopped caring about her pants. she grabbed the fabric and ripped it, leaving a chunk stuck. she stumbled away from the car, breath uneven.

“she didn’t tell us she was doing this bad?—how the fuck didn’t we notice? zoey—how didn’t we see it?!”

zoey wiped at her face, trying and failing to stop crying. “we thought she was fine. we thought she was just tired or overwhelmed or—i don’t know, rumi—i just thought she was cleaning and now she might be—fuck.”

they didn’t say much else. only curses and half-sentences, begging under their breath, repeating mira’s name like a prayer, like if they said it enough, she’d answer.

they ran into the building, stumbling over each other as they rushed up the stairs. by the time they reached her bedroom door again, they were out of breath and shaking.

“we need the key,” rumi said, her voice tight. “does she keep a spare?”

“she has it on her!” zoey yelled, pacing back and forth. “she has the fucking key on her, rumi, we can’t wait—we can’t wait—”

“okay,” rumi breathed, backing up. “okay. then we break the door down.”

zoey didn’t hesitate. “fuck it. we’re breaking this stupid door down.”

together, they threw themselves against it once. nothing.

“again,” zoey growled.

they slammed into it with all the strength they had left.

the wood cracked.

“one more—!”

on the third hit, the door burst open, slamming into the wall behind it with a loud bang.

they froze for half a second, eyes scanning the room like they weren’t sure what they were about to walk into.

“mira?” zoey called out. her voice was fragile. hopeful. already breaking.

no answer.

the air was too still.

“mira, please…please answer us,” rumi whispered.

they started moving, eyes searching, hearts in their throats, trying to keep breathing even though every second of silence made it harder.

they didn’t see her in the room.

but the bathroom door was cracked open.

and music was playing softly from inside.

rumi’s breath caught in her chest as she stepped closer to the bathroom door, hand shaking as she reached for it.

the music leaked out in a low, muffled hum, still playing through mira’s headphones. it was one of their songs. the one that always made people smile. the one that made them smile.

but now… it sounded wrong.

too quiet.

too hollow.

“mira…?” rumi whispered.

she pushed the door open.

and that’s when she saw her.

“oh my god—MIRA!”

her scream split the silence.

zoey was at her side in seconds.

mira was on the floor, her back slumped against the cabinet, her head tilted slightly to the side. her eyes were closed. lips parted slightly. her skin looked too pale. too still.

the headphones were still resting over her ears, the music barely audible now. just the fading chorus of their song looping in the background.

on the counter beside her, the water bottle lay tipped over.

an empty pill bottle beside it.

“no no no no—fuck—” zoey dropped to her knees beside her, immediately checking her pulse with trembling fingers. “she’s breathing—rumi, she’s still breathing—oh my god, she’s still—we’re not too late.”

rumi collapsed next to her, gripping her hand tightly. “mira, please—please wake up—”

“we’re here, baby—we’re here,” zoey whispered, pushing the hair gently from mira’s face. her voice cracked. “you’re not alone—you’re not. we’re right here, okay?”

mira didn’t move.

didn’t stir.

just that faint, shallow rise and fall of her chest.

“call someone,” rumi said, voice breaking. “call someone now!”

zoey fumbled for her phone, her fingers almost useless from shaking. she dialed the emergency number with tears streaking down her cheeks, not even realizing she was sobbing until she heard her own voice shouting into the receiver.

“please—our girlfriend—she took pills, she’s not waking up, she’s breathing but she won’t wake up— please, we need help, just please hurry!”

rumi didn’t stop holding her hand, didn’t stop whispering to her.

“you’re okay… you’re okay… just hang on, mira, please hang on…”

the words blurred together.

apologies. promises. sobs.

zoey dropped the phone when the dispatcher said help was on the way. she crawled back over and wrapped one arm around rumi, the other gripping mira’s hand.

they held her like that.

cradling what was left of her warmth.

surrounded by the remnants of a goodbye they refused to accept.

the music played on softly, the chorus looping one more time—

“im gonna show you, how it’s done…”

but neither of them could sing anymore.

they weren’t sure how long it had been since they’d gotten to the hospital.

maybe hours.

maybe more.

it all blurred together. the flashing lights, the chaos, the paramedics shouting questions they barely understood, the gurney being wheeled into the ambulance, the sirens, the white walls, the smell of antiseptic and something colder underneath it all.

they remembered the moment they lost sight of her. when the nurses closed the door behind them and told them they had to wait. rumi nearly collapsed in the hallway. zoey had paced in circles until she couldn’t stand anymore.

neither of them could stop shaking.

the ER waiting room was quiet now, just the hum of machines and the occasional footsteps echoing down sterile hallways. zoey sat curled in one of the stiff plastic chairs, arms wrapped around her knees, face blotchy and eyes glassy. rumi sat beside her, hunched over, elbows on her thighs, staring at the floor like she was trying to keep the world from spinning out beneath her.

no one had said much since they arrived.

the last time a nurse checked in, all she said was that mira was stable, but unconscious. they’d pumped her stomach. monitored her vitals. she was alive.

but she hadn’t woken up.

not yet.

“i keep hearing the song,” zoey whispered suddenly, voice hoarse. “the one she played… i can’t get it out of my head. we were playing the same one in the car while she was killing her self to it!”

rumi didn’t answer right away. she swallowed hard, blinking quickly.

“she picked that song on purpose,” she said quietly. “our song. the one we made together.”

“like a goodbye.” zoey’s lip trembled. “she didn’t even want to go out sad.”

rumi’s hands clenched into fists.

“we didn’t see it,” zoey whispered. “how didn’t we see it? she was right there every day. and we missed it.”

rumi shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. “she hid it. she didn’t want us to see.”

“we should’ve anyway.”

they sat in silence after that.

the weight of everything sat between them like another person in the room. too big, too loud, too much.

mira was just a few doors down. breathing. alive.

but it didn’t feel like enough.

not when they had almost lost her. not when the words she wrote still echoed in their heads. not when she had planned it.

zoey wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at the hallway, voice cracking again.

“i just want her to open her eyes.”

rumi didn’t say anything.

because so did she.

the hospital room was quiet.

not the kind of silence that meant peace, but the kind that felt like waiting. like a breath held for too long. like the universe didn’t know what to say next.

machines beeped softly, steady. the lights above hummed. the world outside the window was a muted gray blur, like it couldn’t decide whether to rain or shine.

rumi sat curled in the corner chair, hoodie pulled up, eyes red and distant. she hadn’t slept. hadn’t moved much, either. her arms were wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold something in.

zoey was beside the bed. her hand never left mira’s. even when her eyes shut. even when her body slumped in the chair, on the edge of sleep. she never let go.

they’d been there for days.

but mira hadn’t opened her eyes.

until now.

a twitch. just the smallest one. barely a flicker under her lashes.

rumi shot up. “zoey—did you—”

“i saw it,” zoey whispered, leaning in. “mira?”

they both watched, breathless.

another flicker. a soft inhale. then, slowly, slowly, mira opened her eyes.

it was groggy, unfocused. like looking through water.

but when she saw them… she blinked. and then blinked again.

rumi let out a soft gasp, already moving closer. “hey, baby. hey…”

“hi,” mira rasped, voice dry and weak and fragile. “i… what happened?”

zoey was crying before she could even speak. “you scared the hell out of us.”

rumi reached for her hand, pressing her lips to the back of it. “you almost left us.”

mira’s brows furrowed, like the memory was trying to come back.

“you tried to go,” zoey whispered. “and we almost didn’t find you in time.”

mira blinked slowly. her lip trembled. “i didn’t want to hurt anymore. i thought… i thought you’d both be better off.”

“don’t ever say that,” rumi said firmly, her voice shaking. “don’t everthink that again.”

“we’re not better off without you,” zoey said, squeezing her hand. “you’re… you’re everything to us.”

mira’s eyes filled. her chest ached. not just from the pills, but from all the things she hadn’t said, all the love she didn’t think she deserved.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered. “i just… i felt so alone.”

rumi leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together gently. “you’re never alone. not when you have us.”

zoey brushed a strand of hair off her face, her fingers trailing gently down her cheek. “we’re a mess without you, mira. don’t you know that?”

they weren’t just friends.

they weren’t just a band.

they were a home, made out of late-night confessions and tangled limbs on the couch, shared closets and whispered dreams, kisses stolen behind closed doors, and hearts cracked open and poured into each other.

mira looked between them. zoey’s red-rimmed eyes, rumi’s trembling mouth, and for the first time in what felt like forever, something warm settled in her chest.

she was still hurting. still scared.

but she wasn’t alone.

“can i…” she blinked, her voice hoarse. “can i stay with you two? like this?”

“always,” zoey whispered.

rumi smiled through her tears. “forever, if you’ll have us.”

they didn’t have to say more. they didn’t need to.

zoey leaned in, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. rumi brushed a tear from her cheek with the softest touch.

mira let her eyes close again. not from exhaustion this time, but from peace. she was still in the hospital. still recovering. but for the first time in a long time…

she didn’t feel like dying.

she felt loved.

really, truly loved.

and even though the road ahead was long, and the scars weren’t gone, she knew that if she had them… she could make it through anything.

and for now, they were together.

and that was enough.

not my best but i just had to write for it