Chapter Text
Your head is buzzing. You're so afraid you can barely think straight. Your friends keep chattering away but you're not processing what they're saying. He's talking too, but you can't process that, either. The minute Soldier Boy appeared on that screen, it was like your entire brain stopped working. One thought pounds through your head over and over, drilling itself into your mind: he's back he's back he's back he's back he's back
When he leaves the room, you follow. It's instinct at this point; where he goes, you follow. The fear in your mind feels like television static, and the only sound you can hear behind it is the repetition of those two words: he's back he's back he's back he's back
He's talking, saying... you don't really even care. You can't focus, everything is too loud, too bright, too much. He pulls ahead in front of you, coming to a stop. This snaps you out of your terror-induced haze, and you can take in what he has to say.
"Why would he kill Crimson Countess? He was your team leader, do you have any idea?"
Flashback. The training room. The humiliation. The pain. Teammates begin to shun you, not wanting to draw his attention to them. Flashback. The jungle. A shared look between everyone. A battle. Mindstorm working his magic on Gunpowder. The look of betrayal in Soldier Boy's eyes. The betrayal turning to rage. Searing pain, blood in your mouth, vision graying out, and pain-pain-pain as he hits you with your shield. You reach for something, mindlessly, blindly. You don't know what, but you know it's important.
A deep sigh snaps you back to reality. You haven't answered his question, but he doesn't seem to care. For a moment, he's not the most powerful man in the world, but the scared kid looking overwhelmed at the crowd in front of him. He's drowning and grasping at anything. His voice quivers as he tells you how glad he is to have you with him.
"Seriously," he says, looking gratefully at you. "You're the only one I can count on." He gives your arm a friendly pat and walks off, leaving you alone--not even your friends are here anymore.
It is in this moment that you know you are going to betray him.
A chime goes off as an elevator door opens. You silently get on. The woman in the corner looks afraid. They always look afraid. She clutches her vBook to her chest and scoots as far into the corner as she can.
She screams when you pull out a knife and jam it into your arm. W-w-what are you d-d-d-doing? a voice from below asks. You ignore him. You're doing what you need to do. Soldier Boy will be coming for you. You need to leave. You need to protect your family. Are you s-sssure that's what you're doing? Maybe not, but it's an added bonus. You can't face him again. You ignore the voice as you drop the knife and fish out your chip. The woman is whimpering now. You hold the bloody thing out to her and place it in her hand as though you were handing her the keys.
"Th-thank you...?" she says, not knowing if she's asking a question or making a statement.
The door opens, and you stride out. You know what you're doing. This is the best decision. For you. For him. For everyone.
You stop abruptly.
— W-w-what are you d-d-d-doing Earving? You look down, finally acknowledging the voice. Buster looks up at you earnestly. Y-you ca-ca-can't leave him al-l-lone. He d-d-deserves to know the t-t-t-truth. And he n-n-n-needs someone t-to look after him. You n-n-need to tell him, at l-l-least.
You hang your head in shame listening to blood drip on the floor. What are you doing? You swore to protect him. To Vought. To yourself. He's the only family you have. Your (son) (brother) (student) friend. You heard him. You're the only one he can trust. No. You're not leaving him now. You are going to protect him with your life, if necessary.
And more importantly, you are going to tell him the truth.