Chapter Text
Okay, he panicked, he’ll admit it.
He knew Mob wasn’t just threatening this time. The way he had argued with Verity before gathering his things and placing them into his inventory, all without a word spoken.
That’s how he knew it was real this time, the fact that there wasn’t even a threat said. He never explicitly said he was leaving, he just began the process of it.
He started with his armour, methodically picking up each piece from the armour stand and placing them into his inventory. He hadn’t worn them.
Verity wondered if Mob intended to be gone for so long that he just needed the protection on standby.
Was he leaving forever?
Mob had refused to make eye contact with him, refused a word of explanation, refused all of his usual moves.
Usually he screamed. He screamed that he was leaving, that he was never coming back, that it was all his fault, trying desperately to show just how hurt he was. He begged as well, that Verity would ‘just please fucking listen to me’.
He took the food next, rummaging through each chest in order to gain a supply large enough that any doubts in Verity’s mind that this was actually happening evaporated.
Mob always eventually gave up though, he recalled, resignedly walking straight back into the house, or in many cases never actually leaving in the first place.
Verity would be reminded that Mob knew his place really, sometimes he just forgot.
So yeah, when Mob started to actually leave, he panicked a bit.
He watched as Mob opened another chest, pausing and clearly thrown off by something. He wondered if there was something he couldn’t find.
“Verity.” There was something cold and determined in his eyes, something dangerous that he ached to put a stop to.
“Talking to me now, are we?” He wasn’t going to give Mob a ledge to stand on. He had begged earlier, foolishly, briefly, before realising it had only served the purpose of validating this little stunt Mob seemed so intent on pulling.
“Where are the torches?..”
He had to do something, he decided. He wouldn’t have been much of a good partner if he didn’t. And besides, the way Mob had blindedly trusted him when he pointed to the storage closet gave Verity a rush he couldn’t ever explain in words if given a year to try. So dependent, he was oddly proud.
But also, he was pissed. Mob knew better than this. Verity had told him countless times before that leaving was out of the question.
Last time, Mob had agreed, finally, and Verity assumed that was the end of it.
So why, why, was he still doing this shit?
Whatever the issue was, it wasn’t going to be a lasting one.
Verity couldn’t suppress the smug smirk as he willed the door to close behind Mob.
He briefly remembered last week, how, after an argument, Mob had snuggled up to him slightly closer that evening, wrapping his arms around Verity as he laid on the couch.
He had opened up to him for the first time, apologising first then admitted he was just scared.
That he was scared of a lot of things.
And the floodgates opened. Verity remembered thinking how precious Mob was when he was vulnerable. He listened for hours, refusing to interrupt as Mob methodically listed all the ways he was scared.
He wanted to remember all of it.
Spiders,
Heights,
Being alone,
Small spaces,
Most of Mob’s fears were irrational, but they were all useful.
*CLICK*
He was ecstatic, really, how Mob still listened to him like this. Even when their entire relationship was being threatened by their current argument, Mob still entered any room Verity pointed at.
…
Then why did he have to leave?
If he trusted him so much?
Why was Mob risking everything they had for a stupidly small chance at leaving Verity’s safety and protection. Surely he wasn’t an idiot, he had tried leaving multiple times before, and he always came back. Even the first time, when he had genuinely tried to run away, he only lasted a few minutes before Verity brought him straight back home. After that, things had been so much better, easier.
He heard a noise of confusion from the closet, his heart fluttered at the idea that soon, Mob would be begging for him back.
All Mob needed was a few minutes to calm down,
Then he’d remember, he always remembered.
He’ll remember every time Verity had been there for him, when nobody else was, every time Verity had helped without even being asked, or at least without hesitation when he was asked.
He’ll remember their love.
His smile only widened as a deep and panicked rattling noise sounded from the door, followed by a gasp of realisation and a panicked, forced breath out.
He didn’t even need to be in the room to sense the raw and visceral fear coming from it.
He couldn’t help the exhilaration which swirled nauseatingly through his body.
He felt the reins of control suddenly within his reach again. He loved every second of this. How could Mob possibly want to give this dynamic up?
With this… this feeling, he could save Mob from his newfound self destructive behaviour, he could save Mob from anything that stood in their way. Whatever it was, he didn’t care, it would be fixed.
There was a noise coming from outside of his thought, but he didn’t tune in quite yet.
He knew hearing Mob this distressed could spark doubt in him, doubt that would do no good for what had to be done. So he thought instead.
If Mob was good after this, maybe this could still be fixed. As long as Mob listened, everything would be okay.
The noise became more substantially something, slowly forcing itself into his awareness, a hysterical rattling at the door, he guessed.
Mob was trying the handle.
Verity nearly laughed at how pathetic and useless the action was. It was the definition of desperate.
That was good. That meant this was working.
He felt slightly deranged realising he couldn’t control his widening smile anymore, especially as the sounds of Mob slamming repeatedly into the door made itself known, louder and less calculated each time.
It felt nearly musical, the struggle Mob was going through purely in vain.
He’ll tire himself out eventually.
Don’t worry, ill fix you soon he thought, listening to the rhythmic crashing coming from the other room.
…
It stopped.
The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.
“Open the door”
Mob had clearly put every ounce of determination he had left into those three words.
He genuinely intended to answer, really he did!
But that tiny shake in Mob’s voice shattered his illusion of confidence so completely that Verity’s smile grew even wider, and he forgot what he was going to say.
He had actually tried to sound intimidating.
That was unfairly adorable.
He made an attempt to compose himself.
It failed.
“Verity."
Oh my god, this was rich. The man who’d refused to acknowledge him moments ago was now panicking just to get his attention!
Maybe he’d let him stew, purposefully this time. Not for long, just enough to make Mob understand what it felt like to be ignored. To be abandoned.
“This isn’t funny”
Oh but it was. Maybe Mob just couldn’t see the irony right now. Everything about this situation was funny, in a sort of unfair way.
He had to remind himself every breath that he was still mad at Mob. He still needed to be taught a lesson.
“I’m serious Verity this isn’t fucking funny.”
His voice was shaking, Verity felt a pang of guilt.
There was another needless kick against the door.
Maybe he should let Mob out soon-
“Verity, open the FUCKING DOOR.”
The guilt vanished, Replaced with an intense anger nearly as strong and as sudden as a lightning bolt. How dare he? What could possibly have given Mob the idea that he could speak to him like that?
He felt almost as angry at himself. How stupid of him to nearly relent to what was essentially a childish tantrum.
“Veri-”
His voice sounded like it had given up, stuttering and stopping mid word.
He reminded himself of why he was in that situation in the first place. His refusal to listen, His attempts at escaping, how willingly he had been going against his command.
The insecurity felt like lead in his chest. He thought they were doing so well. Mob had been smiling more, they had been communicating more, hell, they’d hugged each other just last night! So why, why did Mob have to spoil it all again?
Mob deserved this, he decided.
“Verity… Verity”
He repeated himself senselessly, his voice so quiet that the mentioned had to position himself slightly closer to the room just to hear.
Maybe he was finally coming around
“Let me out… Verity”
He weighed his options. On one hand, Mob could definitely do with a few extra minutes, maybe an hour at least. On the other, it seems Verity wildly misunderestimated how intense Mob’s claustrophobia really was.
To be honest, he wasn’t expecting this to be nearly as effective as it was.
It didn’t hurt to be sure though, so…
“I can’t Mob, if I do, you’ll leave me”
He had expected Mob to reply with reassurance, with “No, of course I won’t leave!”.
But he was met with silence.
A long stretch of suffocating, debilitating silence.
He had no idea what Mob was thinking, he hated not knowing. Mob’s thoughts weren’t supposed to be hidden from him, it felt nearly unnatural.
But he couldn’t
…
Maybe he couldn’t respond for a reason?
“Mob? How are you doing in there?”
…
“I-”
Once again, Mob’s voice had failed him. At least now Verity knew there was a reason for not responding, that he quite literally couldn’t.
The warm, familiar feeling washed over him again, he sounded so small, it made Verity feel needed.
He had to admit though, he had never heard Mob just this terrified in his life before. He was kind of concerned. Was he overdoing it?
“Mob?”
…
“Ve…”
Maybe now he will realise the danger he poses to himself. He tries to think for himself for one minute and this is where it gets him.
“See? This is why I can’t let you leave!”
A noise of confusion rose on the other side of the door, nearly a whimper.
“You aren’t safe by yourself, Mob.”
Maybe he will finally understand.
“You need me and you know it, deep down you know it. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”
The silence that followed this time was different. It felt like reflection. Like Mob was finally fucking thinking. Finally using his brain to realise that really, he had been in the wrong this entire time, not Verity.
“I really do love you” he said, despite the situation. “Do you love me too, Mob?” He added quickly, the earlier weight of insecurity still clear.
“I-”
“Its okay, I know you love me too.”
…
Okay, fine, he’s stewed enough, as entertaining and adorable as this was, time to end it.
“If I let you out” He made sure to emphasise ‘if’, he wanted Mob to know any more mistakes would still not be tolerated. “You’ll stay with me, right?”
He was spoonfeeding him the answers really, but this was more so to check if Mob still wanted to challenge him or not.
“Y…Yeah.”
He nearly laughed.
“Do you promise?”
Ok, that was kind of mean, he knew he was dragging it, but something about this felt so fresh, he didn’t want to stop.
“Y-Yeah”
…
One more won’t hurt.
“Say it.” He nearly laughed to himself as Mob’s voice seemed to get more and more desperate as he seemingly tried harder to get this whole experience over with
“I promise! I’ll stay, "he replied, frantically.
“Forever?” He added, rubbing salt into the wound.
He waited for only a second, still, it made him consider going back on his word.
“Yeah… forever.”
Good, he thought.
That was all Mob had to do, was just stay.
He heard another small whimper from behind the door, pulling him back to reality before he got carried away thinking again.
Fine… He’ll let him off, just this once.
*CLICK*