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After a stressful day, Henrik stepped into his home and shut the front door, not bothering to lock it.
“Schneep?” asked Jack from the couch. From the looks of it, he was watching Netflix, SepticEye Sam sleeping contentedly in the hood of his signature PMA hoodie. It was a cute sight, but Henrik ignored his friend as if he were invisible.
“Henrik, answer me. Is something wrong?” Jack asked again, more concern in his voice. No response, but the doctor stopped walking to look at him.
Jack, the egos’ creator and assigned head of the household, was always looking out for everyone around him. He meant only the best, always telling his friends, online fans, and egos that he was there if they ever needed a friend, but Henrik just didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now. The doctor sighed heavily.
“It’s nozhing, Seán, don’t vorry about it.” Without giving Jack another chance to speak, he threw his keys on the armchair across the room and headed up to his bedroom. It seemed to get harder to walk with every step he took.
Too many patients had been lost lately due to how distracted he had been, and he had been threatened with being fired if he didn’t get his shit together. Henrik closed his bedroom door, threw his bloody doctor’s coat on a chair in the corner of the room, lazily tossed his glasses onto a pile of clean laundry that he had yet to put away, and overdramatically fell over on his bed, letting out another long sigh. He stayed there for a while, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the background noise around him.
Unique, ethereal noises as Marvin practiced magic outside, Jackieboy laughing at the swooshing noise his new cape made whenever he flew fast, and the muffled sounds of the TV downstairs as Jack continued to watch his movies. The Irishman wanted to check and make sure that his exhausted friend was okay, but sensed that what he wanted most was some time alone to relax and clear his head, so he respected the German’s privacy and stayed on the couch.
After a while, Henrik got bored, so he fished in his bedside drawer until he pulled out a Sharpie. Art was a common stress reliever for him, and it was a hobby that he shared with Marvin and another, newer addition to the household, Jacques - although Henrik was more of a pencil-paper kind of hobbyist and the French ego did painting as a career. Marvin didn’t really have a specific preference.
Smiling slightly at memories of bonding time with the two, the doctor scouted the room for his notebook. He spotted it on his computer desk across the room, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was get up, so he just rolled over onto his side, rolled up the sleeve of his Carolina-blue turtleneck, and started to doodle a pattern on his wrist, hand, and arm, humming a small tune and trying to forget about his stress.
“I could be a tattoo artist if I vanted,” the doctor laughed to himself quietly. “Zhere’s a backup plan, if zhis whole surgery zhing fails and I get.. fired…” he mumbled. Now he was sad again. Damn it. He didn’t want to just lay down and do nothing, though, so he let his mind wander elsewhere as he kept drawing on his arm absentmindedly.
Meanwhile, Anti had been in the bathroom for the past half hour, disinfecting and reapplying bandages to his neck wound, although the disinfecting hurt like shit. He and Henrik, the only guy he trusted to touch the cut, hadn’t spoken for several days, as Henrik had been coming home and going right to sleep after saying hello to everyone, and was only woken up for dinner. So, to prevent him from getting sick and to make sure the cut healed faster, Anti had to change his own bandages this time.
“Lazy motherfucker..” the glitch grumbled. “He knows I’m gonna get sick, and yet he still just says hi and goes to bed.”
Despite his constant shit-talk about and sass to the doctor, on the inside Anti did appreciate that Henrik was willing to help him heal even after all the hurt the glitch demon had caused him. But as if he’d ever tell him that. He had a reputation to keep, especially in the shadow world, he couldn’t be acting soft with humans.
“Fuckin’ Dorkiplier telling me I’m soft… we’ll fucking see about that,” Anti growled to himself. Now, he had to change the bandages on his arm. Dark’s goddamn dog had bitten him pretty badly recently, and it had been so painful and bled so much that Dark had actually pitied him and brought him home, where Henrik had put bandages on him and advised him to try not to put too much pressure on it.
He gently pulled off the bandages, wincing at the feeling of them pulling off of his cold green skin, and didn’t exactly know how to react aside from a jaw drop as he saw all the doodles that were layered over his injury. He quickly took off the rest of the bandages, ignoring the pain, and watched, impressed, as a tattoo-like pattern appeared on his arm like magic.
Jack had explained to him the concept of soulmates, back when Anti had first been officially accepted as a member of the group. As he watched the lines appear and curve on his arm like they had a mind of their own, he began to remember when he had first learned what kind of witchcraft this soulmate shit was.
The conversation had started when the glitch asked Jack what he was writing on his wrist.
“Oh, I’m sending a message,” he said simply, twiddling his blue pen in his other hand a bit and smiling. Anti looked at him like he was crazy, which prompted Jack to show him his wrist. He had written “Stay strong, you matter! The world needs you in it!” with a little heart and smiley face next to it.
“And… why exactly are you doing that…?” the green demon inquired, clearly more confused than he had ever been. Jack smiled gently.
“Whenever you write on your skin, it’ll show up on your soulmate’s, too. It’s like magic! Some people meet theirs in the cutest ways, as if they were living in a romance movie!”
“Soul..mate?” the glitch asked, intentionally dragging out the word to show his confusion. Jack quickly clarified.
“A soulmate is the person you’re destined to be in love with. I haven’t met mine yet.. but they could be going through something tough, so I want to remind them that everything’s going to be okay.” When Anti jolted back in surprise seemingly from nothing, Jack looked at his wrist, and his face lit up when he saw writing appear on it.
The words “Thank you ♡” appeared on the Irishman’s wrist, written with a green glitter pen. Anti chuckled a bit seeing how happy his creator was, and shook his head.
“Looks like your soulmate is just as extra as you. I’ll enjoy my days of silence while they last.” He walked back to his room with a small smile to go burn something as Jack continued to cheerily doodle hearts on his wrist, grabbing a blue glitter pen from Marvin’s nearby pencilcase to match his soulmate’s glittery handwriting.
Anti turned his arm around to get a good look at the pattern wrapping and growing around his arm. It was surprisingly beautiful, and rather mesmerizing to watch, so he kept staring at his arm, despite still having to bandage the healing scars on his arm from that bastard dog’s teeth. He grabbed his phone off of the bathroom counter with his other hand and started typing a text to Jack, not thinking to just yell down to him.
Jack had paused his movie, deciding to take a nap instead, and had almost fallen asleep by this time. He had just nodded off when the notification buzz of his phone went off. He blinked awake again and saw that his screen had lit up with a text notification, so he reached over to grab the phone and answer it. It was a text from Anti, of course.
Anti: Jack come to the FUCKING bathroom because something’s going on with my arm what the FUUUUUCK
Jack gently set the still-sleeping Sam down on the sofa and hopped up, running to the ground floor bathroom to meet Anti. He gently opened the door, and saw the green glitch staring at his arm in awe. Cringing a bit at the sight of his injury but fascinated by the ever-expanding pattern, he stepped closer and set a hand on Anti’s shoulder from behind as he watched the pattern continue alongside the demon.
“Told you it worked,” the Irishman chuckled.
“Yeah…” Anti answered quietly, turning his arm around to watch the dancing black line add another flower blossom to the pattern on his arm.
“Who’s drawing that..??” he asked in confusion.
“Why’re you asking me? I’m not psychic, I don’t know,” laughed the man next to him in response.
“You know more people than me, take a fucking guess,” mumbled Anti, sounding less annoyed than usual as he continued to watch the pattern expand further down his arm, the pen occasionally going back to add details to areas it had already drawn.
The black line drew a hook shape under the flower, almost like a vine, and then added a lovely scale pattern on the inside of the hook’s curve. “Look at that!” Anti laughed. “This is the coolest shit I’ve ever seen!”
The sound of footsteps made both of them turn their heads towards the doorway, where Chase had just arrived.
“What are you two looking at— woah!” The cap-wearing ego noticed Anti’s pattern quickly, and his eyes lit up like stars. “That’s so cool! Look at that!” he exclaimed.
“I know!” Anti said excitedly. One of the rare occassions where he was nice to Chase. Jack watched the two converse, trying to think of who it could be that was drawing all those patterns. It was on the tip of his tongue for about ten frustratingly long seconds, before it hit him, and he thought out loud.
“You know, Henrik does a lot of drawings like that when he’s sad. Maybe it’s him.”
Anti looked confusedly back at his arm, the pattern having gained a lot of detail since he looked away. Chase propped his chin on his hand and held his arm up with the other in a thinking pose.
“That would make sense. You two do get along..” Chase muttered, a little smile on his face.
“Yeah…” Anti said quietly. “I should go see him.”
And with that, the glitch was out the door and heading up the stairs.
Henrik, off in his own little world at this point, didn’t hear Anti coming until his door was thrown open.
“Doctor bitch, I need to talk to you,” the demon barked at him quickly. Henrik sat up drowsily, his nearsightedness annoying him as he was too tired to get up and get his glasses.
“Hm..? Oh, sure. Vhat is it..?” he asked, sounding like he had just woken up even though he had never went to sleep.
Anti crossed the room and sat down next to him, grabbing Henrik’s glasses off of the laundry pile with his red strings and handing them to him. “I need to show you something important, so put your glasses on, idiot,” he mumbled halfheartedly, most of the usual aggression missing from his voice.
Too worn out to ask questions, Henrik nodded and put them on. As soon as he did, Anti held out his arm, and Henrik’s eyes shot open as he recognized every little line that he had spent the past twenty minutes or so drawing on his arm.
“Did you do this? I need to know.” Anti inquired. For once, his tone wasn’t angry or accusatory, just a genuine, urgent question. It took the doctor a moment to meet Anti’s eyes.
“Same pattern, isn’t it? You drew this. Jack told me you draw when you’re sad. What’s got you sad? If I’m gonna find my “soulmate”, then I don’t wanna have them moping around.”
Henrik tried to speak, but nothing came out. He was afraid that Anti was going to get frustrated with him, but surprisingly, he was being patient. “I.. did draw zhis,” he mumbled.
Anti nodded. “Yeah, I noticed. Why are you upset?” the glitch asked his roommate. Henrik shrugged, not wanting to give an answer but doing it anyway.
“I just get so.. distracted.. lately..” he began to explain to the demon in front of him. “I’ve been losing patients left and right because I just can’t focus.. nozhing in my head makes any sense. It’s frustrating, and it leaves me exhausted, feeling so dead but not vanting to sleep or to do anyzhing. I just vant to stare at zhe ceiling and vait for my… “flow” to come back.”
Anti nodded along as he processed what the doctor was saying. “Sounds like a classic case of overworking to me. You worked too hard and burned yourself out. Maybe you need a vacation, Doc.”
“Zhey’ll never let me- vait, Anti, vhere are you goi- hey, give me mein phone!!”
Anti had swiped the doctor’s cellphone out of the pocket of his coat, entered his passcode - he knew everyone’s - and started scrolling his contacts for his work number. Henrik stood up, but forgot how long he had been laying down, so he tripped right back down onto the mattress as his brain failed to catch up with his movement and his vision turned into outer space. Not wanting to try again, the doctor accepted his fate and watched as Anti called his boss.
“Sup, is this Mr. McFarlane?” Anti said, trying to be polite but sounding slightly annoyed.
“Yes, what is it? Who is this?” came the gruff voice on the other end. Henrik winced - his boss was terrifying.
“Listen buddy. One of your surgeons, Henrik, is my roommate. He’ll be taking some time off, he’s burned himself out.”
“Hey, I decide who takes time off and who doe-” McFarlane began to scold.
“Maybe I need to make myself clearer,” Anti spat into the phone, his voice crackling and glitching more than usual. Henrik jumped a little bit. Nobody talked to McFarlane like that. “Henrik has burned himself out to the point of mental exhaustion. Either he takes a temporary leave, or I come in there myself and make sure that you take a permanent one. Your choice.”
No response from the other end. Coward.
“I’ll take that as a surrender,” the glitch chuckled.
Finally, the rude man spoke again, his voice quieter and sounding a little intimidated. “I’ve.. signed Henrik off for a few weeks of recovery time... make sure he takes care of himself.”
“Thank you, sir~” Anti chirped before hanging up. He tossed the doctor’s phone back onto the chair in the corner, then laid down next to him, hands resting behind his head like he was sunbathing. All Henrik could do was stare.
“…how did you do zhat..?” he asked quietly. Anti shrugged.
“Intimidation gets you everywhere. I’m a demon, dude, it’s my job to scare people. So, now that you’re officially off work for the next few weeks, I’m taking it upon myself to make sure you recharge your batteries.”
“Vhy vould you do zhat..?”
Anti cast a sideways, sarcastic “Really?” glance at the doctor. “I thought you knew.” He sat up and pulled the German ego up with him, lining up their arms again. “Soulmates, remember?”
Henrik chuckled awkwardly. “Oh yeah.. soulmates protect each ozher, don’t zhey?” Anti nodded, but picked up on the uncertainty in the doctor’s voice seconds later.
“What’s with the skepticism?” he inquired, narrowing his eyes.
Henrik scratched his head. “I.. kind of stopped believing in soulmates, after my marriage fell zhrough.. I zhought Rachel vas zhe vone. Apparently she vasn’t.. and it kind of shook me up. So I just told myself zhat soulmates as a whole vere bullshit, and lived like zhat.”
Anti crossed his arms, and Henrik thought he was going to get scolded or slapped, but instead, he was tugged back down onto his bed. He squeaked a little bit when Anti shut off the lights. This was.. unusual.
“Uh..” he mumbled. “Anti?”
He heard no reply for a second, and was afraid he had said something wrong, until he heard Anti shift next to him. “You need sleep, Henry. You’re delusional,” came the blank response from the glitch.
The doctor tried to turn his head, but he felt two arms wrap around his torso, so he gave in, took in a deep breath, and let out a heavy sigh.
“Go to sleep, Henrik.”
“I can’t.. I still feel so.. confused.”
“We’ll sort that out in the morning.”
“Ve haven’t eaten dinner..”
“So we’ll have extra breakfast. On me. Now c’mon, rest your eyes, I know you’re too tired to argue.”
“Mm.. okay..” came the sleepy response, as the doctor yawned.
Although his head still felt clouded, nothing made sense, and he still felt almost dead, there was something peaceful about Anti’s arms being looped around his chest. Something that took those bad things away. Feeling like he had to do something before drifting off, he turned his head to see Anti, comfortable against his back.
“Zhank you, glitch bitch.”
The smaller ego laughed a bit. “You’re welcome, puppet. I love you.”
Henrik rolled over to give Anti a kiss on the forehead, taking hold of the demon’s hand with his — the arms where their marked patterns matched. “I love you too.”
Anti might have blushed a bit, but it was dark, so the doctor was unsure.
“Thanks.. now go the fuck to sleep.”