Work Text:
Somewhere along the line everything had gone rotten, had gone from simple force of will to shape reality to forcible demands to break it. He wasn’t sure when it happened or why it happened but it had and now reality itself was his broken toy that occasionally he pushed a little further towards shattered. Sometimes people looked for him, more so now then at the beginning, and when he let them find him sometimes they spoke words he couldn’t understand like he could the shift of the earth or the flow of kinetic energy. When they spoke at him and he didn’t react some would bleed salted water and wail like the sky did when the volcanoes burst and filled the yellow sky with the blackened remains of the earth, others would try to mimic the violent eruptions and do damage to him; he broke reality a little more with those ones.
He supposes that calling the place he dwells now reality is not quite right, it is the former existence and it is bad so he is going to make it different, make it better. He does not recall how he knows it is bad or how he is making it better but he is and that’s the only thing that matters because he is the one doing it so it has to become what he wants. But that is not right either because it had gone rotten, he knows that it has but he does not know how it did or if that was how is was or how he made it. He cannot remember, there is nothing to remember, forget.
Forget.
Forget.
Bend this, change that, make it all better.
Why does it need to be better?
Was something wrong?
Was I hurt?
Did I lose something?
Someone?
Names. Remember. Remember.
Tom-Tommy. Yes, brother, that is good why change that? Tommy loves me and that is good so why did I forget and why am I bleeding salt? Oh...There is more...Someone?
Teddy.
Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget. Forget.
…
Everything is broken, it is shattering, he can fix it.
Fix it.
Fix it.
Fix it.