Chapter Text
Soot didn’t want to pry. It really didn’t.
But Infected didn’t make it easy.
The way he shambled like a fucking zombie, always seeming one light breeze away from passing out. His voice that gave the impression of an Xbox360 headset. That expression, the way he simultaneously looked like he wasn’t in the room and staring right at it.
And now, the way that he’s doubled over in the elevator, coughing violently. The walls flicker pink and black in perfectly square patches. For a moment, Soot wonders if it’s going to need to call an ambulance.
Hot pink blood drips onto the floor, and it decides it’s time to stop being polite.
“Woah, hey…” It puts a hand on his back, testing the waters. He flinches, badly, but there’s no objection. “Try to breathe through your nose. I’ll get you something to drink.”
Instead of responding, Infected gives a shaky thumbs up. Seems like even his denial has its limits.
Digging through its bag with one hand isn’t easy, but Soot makes it work. Band-aids, charger, hand sanitizer, pack of tissues… a small plastic water bottle. Good enough, considering that the alternative is… Fizz Up. Or what, Grey Stuff? Eugh.
“It’s not a big deal, bro! You don’t have to-”
“Shush. Focus on breathing.”
For once, he doesn’t argue; just rolls his eyes and makes a show of breathing through his nose. It might be more cutting if he didn’t shudder like the action was painful.
The elevator doors open, and Soot only glances outside to make sure it’s nothing dangerous. Just the racetrack it doesn’t care to know the name of. It doesn’t know what it would do if someone tried to board right now.
When it hands off the water, Infected takes a sip, then starts chugging. Seconds pass in silence, and the bottle crinkles obnoxiously once he finishes it off.
Once again, its mind drifts towards his health. He insisted that his symptoms were just a simple cold, and it was easy to believe. Coughing, sniffling; even the nosebleeds didn’t seem too serious. The first few times, anyway.
Maybe it was just easier to brush off when he clearly wanted it to. When he, and everyone else, seemed to turn away from the pink and black textures that seemed to ooze into the elevator.
It didn’t want to think about it. About where this came from. About how that ooze lingered on its skin, and on the walls. It enjoyed Infected’s company, and admitting that sometimes his touch makes it feel contaminated felt like an insult. It wasn’t great at this, but it wasn’t an asshole.
“Am I that pretty?”
It’s been staring.
To Soot’s credit, it recovers quickly. “Shut up. How’re you feeling?”
“Like a boss! Thanks for the assist..”
The wall flickers pink behind him.
…
It has a choice to make here.
It can brush this off, move on, and try to enjoy the rest of its time with Infected. Letting the moment pass would be as easy as staying silent. Letting him believe that it’s buying this. His health wasn’t its business, it had only known him for… what, a month? He had other friends, people who could help him more than it ever could.
Maybe it hadn’t actually seen any evidence of that. Maybe it had seen the way others looked at him. Maybe it had a gut feeling that if it didn’t confront him about this, no one else would. But what did it know?
In the end, it isn’t a very difficult decision.
“Right. Listen, do you… are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”
It expects him to freeze, or look away; something. Instead, he just stares. The elevator doors finally slide shut, and it feels the room slip back into the void between floors.
It’s not a long pause, just enough for music to crackle to life from the speakers in the ceiling. But it’s enough.
“Yeah, duh! I’m super healthy. You sound like Retro, brah.” He smiles, without moving the rest of his face.
Ok, that’s not a great start. It wrings its hands together, trying to think of something to say.
“No, seriously. I know the Regretevator’s got weird properties, but you’ve been like… this, since we met. If something is, y’know, bothering you-”
“Nope! All good.” His usual swaying back and forth has been replaced by stillness, so rigid someone could mistake him for a statue.
He’s lying. He has to be. Does he think it’s stupid? Like if he stares long enough, it’ll lose its nerve?
“Infected, come on. I know you’re not oblivious to-”
“Shut up.”
Soot stops, finally making eye contact. This is the most it’s seen him focused on something… maybe ever.
“What?”
He unclenches his fist- when did that happen?- and crosses his arms. It looks more like he’s holding himself than anything. “Do you think you’re the first to lecture me about this shit? Like I don’t see how everyone looks at me? Like I’m a fuckin’ idiot?!”
It doesn’t respond. It can’t. It can’t do anything but stare at him with wide eyes, like a dumbass.
“I don’t know what any of you are talking about! I don’t know what’s wrong, or why no one cares to enlighten me!” His right hand raises to rest against his cheek as he frowns exaggeratedly.
“Geez, Infected, why do you look like that? Infected, can you quit breathing in my direction? Kasper,” Tears fall from his eyes. “When are you going to quit being such a disgusting freak?”
“Infected-”
“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know! So sorry about your friend, dude, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for this BETTER VERSION OF ME!”
With that, he buries his face in his hands, and his voice dissolves into quiet static. It takes Soot a moment to realize it’s because he’s sobbing.
It fucked up. It didn’t think- Why would-
It didn’t know.
The elevator is quiet again. Wherever it wants to go, it’s taking its time. Maybe that’s a good thing; it can’t imagine someone walking in right now.
Its first instinct is to get angry. If this was enough to make him lash out- really, genuinely upset him- how long had he been dealing with whatever was happening here?
How was it supposed to even begin to help?
Of course, it can’t focus on that. Infected is sitting with his knees held against his chest, letting out muffled bursts of static. Getting mad at people who aren’t here won’t help him right now.
Soot glances at the doors one last time, and slides down the wall next to its friend.
“...I’m sorry.” A deliberate pause, in case its words aren’t helping. It can only hope he’ll speak up for himself if necessary. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I shouldn’t- it was wrong of me to, uh, assume.” It starts tapping its fingers in time to the elevator music, because there’s nothing else it can do.
“If you want, I can leave. I’m just, like- worried about you.”
He stiffens, and for a moment it’s certain it fucked up again.
Before it can backpedal, though, he raises his head to make uncomfortably intense eye contact. It’s not one to exaggerate, or wax poetry about someone’s expression; but when it says it can see his eyes flicker, it means it.
“Nah, it’s fine. Let’s just forget this happened, yeah?”
His voice is perfectly even. You wouldn’t even be able to tell he had been sobbing. Soot isn’t buying it for a second.
“Yeah, sure. But when you’re up for it, we’re having a talk about self care.” And everything else, it wants to say, but there’s no way in Hell he was ready for that.
For now, its priority is cheering him up. It can figure out who the fuck Kasper is later.
And once it figures out what’s going on, it’ll find a way to fix this.