Chapter Text
Harlequin had the biggest headache of his life. That’s all he could feel. Darkness snuggled up in his vision and his body was numb. He felt as if he was floating in space, surrounded by nothingness and… well, nothing. He was probably dead.
Oh his eyes were closed. That made sense.
He fluttered them open gently, letting the light from the fixture above fill the crevices of his vision and make shapes around him. Like the black and red stripes of the tent and the makeshift walls placed in random spots. Harlequin groaned and rolled his head to the side, preparing his limp body to get up and moving-
“Don’t!- Eh… don’t… don’t move.” A low voice said next to him. The grey shape came into view, holding his clawed hands to the green monster like it was going to keep him there. “Your body is still recovering.”
Harlequin opened his mouth to speak, letting out a quiet croak before wincing. His hand came to his neck, feeling the thick bandage around it and the soreness left behind.
Damn… so that wasn’t a dream…
“...Yeah… Jester said it would hurt to speak for a while. You damaged your larynx and major blood vessels. Best not to try.” Pierrot explained quietly, putting his hands down and back in his lap. He was sitting on the floor instead of in a chair, but granted, most of the chairs were in other tents for shows. Judging off the fact that Pierrot wasn't in his circus attire, It was late. And the golden monster was sitting in front of his rival's bed watching him sleep.
And… had a rose in his lap.
Awkward…
“Bullshit…” Harlequin mumbled, pushing past the pain that was two syllables escaping out of his throat.
Pierrot glared at the green monster. "Should've thought of that before putting a knife to your throat.”
"Shouldn't... be ...a bitch..." Harlequin bit back in response.
"Stop talking. You're going to make it worse."
"You... don't care ...don't act."
"Sure I hate you, but I don't hate you enough to watch you die. Especially not by your own hands. Er …tentacles..." Pierrot trailed off at that, watching Harlequin closely.
“Jester …told you…” Harlequins expression darkened thickly. His tentacles seemed to rise ever so slightly.
“Of course he told me. He can't be there for you 24/7.” Pierrot stood up from the ground with a soft growl, holding the blue rose in his hand. “He needs someone to help make sure you don’t kill yourself-”
Harlequin threw his tentacles at Pierrot. Muttering coldly, wincing at every word. “…don't want you…”
“Stop that.” The golden monster caught the tentacles in his hand. “You don’t want someone who actually cares to not see you die? And before you say I don’t care, why do you think I'm sitting here with you for hours just staring at you while you sleep, doing nothing but making sure your pulse is still beating?” Pierrot sighed, setting down the tendrils off the side of the bed before taking a seat next to Harlequin. Keeping some distance but still close enough to touch. “If I had known you were a danger to yourself- if you would've just told me that you were going through something, I wouldn't have said that shit to you. I wouldn’t have messed with you like that…”
Harlequin scoffed, opening his mouth to speak but Pierrot kept talking. “Nothing I say right now is going to convince you, but I will at least apologize for my behavior. I never meant to make you feel like… this.” He reached up to brush his fingers against the bloody bandage around Harlequin's neck. The contact made Harlequin flinch and grab Pierrot's wrist with a quiet hiss of his tongue. The anger packed deep in his soul couldn’t forgive this lovesick creature. Not after lying. Even after… apologizing…
“Like I said, I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just want to know what’s going on.” Pierrot continued, taking his hand back from the poisonous monster's grasp and placing it into his lap. He picked up the blue rose and held it out to Harlequin, just barely in his companions' reach.
The younger monster blinked a few times, his bright green eyes glowing in the dark. Calculating, basically glaring at Pierrot. Then, graciously, he took the blue rose in his hands, twirling it around.
The thorns had been cut off already, and its bloom was as full as it could get.
Pierrot picked up a pen and paper from the floor next to the bed, already prepared for this. He really wanted Harlequin to write his feelings, if they truly were his feelings, or maybe just slurs. Whatever. Could Pierrot really expect Harlequin to write the situation or maybe just cuss him out? Well, as long as it helped Harlequin… that’s what Jester wanted…
And maybe that's what Pierrot wanted too…
Maybe.
Harlequin sat there, scribbling in Portuguese. He held the pen so tight it might snap in his hand, the paper wasn’t cooperating on his thigh, especially as it was manhandled around. As he wrote he could feel tears threatening the front of his eyes, he blinked to keep them back, accidentally letting one slip down his cheek. He wiped it with the back of his palm before Pierrot could see it.
Harlequin then turned the paper around for Pierrot to read.
>>MC não me ama. Eles só amam você<<
(MC doesn’t love me. They only love you.)
Pierrot read the words carefully. Harlequin really doesn’t beat around the bush. “What made you think that?”
Harlequin frowned, turning the paper back to himself and continuing to write with a tense jaw. This felt like a sick joke, Pierrot watching him write out his words just like the silent clown had to do when he didn’t know sign language.
“It changes.” Pierrot said softly, making Harlequin glance up with a confused expression. “...The wallpaper, on MCs phone. It shuffles through photos of us every hour.”
“Us?” Harlequin hissed in a hoarse voice, clutching his neck in discomfort.
“Us.” Pierrot pointed to the both of them. “Pictures of you, pictures of me, and pictures of all three of us. They told me that you looked upset about it.”
Harlequin then flipped the paper around.
>>Disseram que eu não podia visitar. Você apareceu depois.<<
(They said I couldn't visit. You showed up later.)
Pierrot scratched the back of his neck at that. “They did tell me about that, that’s where I sent them when they left earlier. MC had me over while they got ready, but then the whole situation with you happened.”
Harlequin pulled the paper back, flipping it on the other side because he was writing too big.
>>Eles não me convidaram. Por quê?<<
(They didn’t invite me. Why?)
“That I don’t know. But we can ask them.” Pierrot said softly, reading the words upside down. “They wanna hangout with us sometime soon.”
Black fluffy hair bounced up immediately, catching Harlequins attention and stopping his writing right there. “Us?” He croaked out again, having the same reaction he did every time he spoke.
“Us.” Pierrot did the same gesture he did before. “Both of us.” He watched as Harlequin scribbled out his previous question. >>Como posso ter certeza de que você não está mentindo?<< (How can I be sure that you aren’t lying?) He chose not to answer that.
>>Eles me convidaram originalmente, certo? Sem pena?<<
(They invited me originally, right? No pity involved?)
The golden monster sighed, taking the paper from Harlequin to stop busying his hands. “You’re avoiding something.”
Harlequin tilted his head to the side with a ruffled nose. He almost spoke again before biting it down, not wanting to endure the pain. He just had to sit there… fiddling with his thumbs.
Emotion filled.
Not slick enough.
“Why do you keep taking the anger out on yourself?” Pierrot asked, gesturing to the tentacles scattered around the two. “Why do you hate yourself?”
Harlequin's teeth moved to his inner cheek, chewing on it softly. So many words, excuses, lies filled his brain yet none of them would leave his mouth. They hurt too much to speak. Pierrot would swallow them without question but the green monster couldn’t bear that.
Instead he kept quiet and really thought about why.
Why did he hate so much?
Because…
…because…
He lies…
Like he almost did.
Because the things he spits out at Pierrot aren't at all true.
He couldn’t hate his rival… He couldn’t hate his companion.
He didn’t want to pretend to like each other for MC, because their happiness doesn’t keep him whole.
In fact, he wouldn’t even be with MC if it wasn’t for the stupid golden creature who looked at him with seething hatred in his hypnotic gaze. He loved MC, and that was enough for Harlequin to love them as well.
Harlequin didn’t care if MC invited him or not. He cared that his presence made Pierrot angry. But… Pierrot was always angry at Harlequin, even though the green clown couldn’t pull himself away from the one that kept him going.
Though it’s now caused Harlequin to take that anger of his lies onto himself.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”
“IT DOESN’T MATTER! YOU KILLED HER!”
“I just wanted to save yoU!”
“AND I WISH YOU DIDN’T!”
The green monster blinked and realized he was crying. Tears dripped down his cheeks and onto his hands. Warmth pushed them away, a claw grazing under his eye. Harlequin looked up to see the paper being pushed toward him, placed right where the wet drops would fall.
“When you’re ready…” Pierrot said gently, leaning back away from Harlequin to give him space to let the air fill his lungs once more. The golden creature placed the weight of his arms down on the green tendrils that arched forward.
Slowly, Harlequin pressed the pen to the paper that caught the tears slipping down his chin. As tiny as he could, underneath all the questions he used as a diversion he wrote:
>>Eu nunca tive a intenção de te magoar. Nada do que fiz tinha o objetivo de te causar dor.<<
(I never intended to hurt you. Nothing I did was meant to cause you pain.)
>>Eu sinto muito.<<
(I’m so sorry.)
He looked up into the golden eyes to see them staring at him and not the paper. They waited, as still as possible, locked onto the green diamonds staring back. Once Harlequin lifted the pen and turned the paper around, the gold creature took it in his clawed hands with the utmost delicacy, reading the small, broken words in ink. Soaking in every syllable in with the care you would with a small kitten. And when he finished reading, he said nothing as he set the paper aside.
Pierrot's eyes fluttered back up, watching as Harlequin bit his cheek in an attempt to not look stupid as tears streamed down his face. Without hesitation, the golden creature began outstretching his arms to his companion.
A choked sob escaped Harlequins lips as he leaned into the embrace, squeezing Pierrot as hard as he could as he cried on the older’s shoulder. Barely hearing the soft words that came from above. “Eu perdôo você.”
The two creatures stayed like that as long as possible, holding each other tightly. Pierrot let Harlequin cry as long as he wanted, even if it did last a couple of hours. To be honest, Pierrot didn’t expect this whole forgiving thing to happen in one night, yet they laid down in each other's embrace, cuddling for a while before falling asleep and letting the emotions rest until morning.
Harlequin genuinely couldn’t breathe, his throat hurt so much and the crying definitely wasn’t helping. But it did make his back incredibly less sore.