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Sinking. Sinking. Sinking.
He's sinking in a deathly teal. He can barely move. The teal around him presses up against him, immobilizes him, takes away his breath. It's both bright yet dark at the same time.
He can't breathe, he can't breathe. Not painful.
It's cold. He doesn't feel anything. He hears… sounds. Something.
Something glows in the teal. A window, a piece of glass, something is glowing and he vaguely sees something through it.
Using the last of his strength (when was he so tired?), he moves towards it. The teal helps him. He wishes it didn't.
A face looks up with him with a nervous smile, a more scared one behind him seems to be analyzing.
It all looks so teal. Sounds of people behind him struggling to break free distract him for a moment before he jumps down with a super jump.
The smiling face, one so sweet, is contorted with fear as he runs away.
Bombs, curling bombs are dropped directly in the direction of the Octoling and Inkling. The Octoling is down, sounds of screaming behind him assure that.
Adrenaline, he grabs the window and tries to go through. Make a way to stop it. Stop it. STOP IT.
The Inkling, he's crying now. He moves away from the bombs, barely dodging them. He's hurt. He's hurt.
Inexplicably, he's still alive. A voice calls out in the vast teal. That stupid phone, he recognizes.
Soon, a baller and a stingray. He's hurt. The Inkling. The Inkling! Goggles!
Goggles is hurt. He breaks the window, only for new ones to come replace it. Two now. He swings again. Four, eight, sixteen, More and more. The shattered glass never leaves, instead creating only more windows, more windows.
No, not windows, mirrors. He sees himself. Tired, a little bloody. A teal mark over his right eye.
They turn back to windows. He's standing over Goggles.
"Please, Rye…"
He sees his shadow. He's raising his roller above his head, swinging down against Goggles.
He's there now, not in the teal, but not in control. He watched idly as a blue puddle grew bigger under his unconscious body. He hears silence. People are speaking, yelling behind him, he knows. There's no noise to be heard.
And he wakes up.
Next to Goggles fast asleep. Snoring.
He can't move, he doesn't want to move. He's so tired. He can't sleep.
He can't breathe either. Goggles's arm isn't even placed over him, but he can't breathe. There's nothing there. He can't breathe, he can't breathe. It hurts, it hurts-
He's just staring at the dark ceiling in his room. He doesn't know how long or what time it is when he notices the sun come up. It's day now, it's time to get up, even if his body can't move.
He forces himself to get up. He has to. He silently moves out of bed, not minding if he wakes up his love. He doesn’t, of course. He sleeps like a dead body.
...
He's there again. He's in his body. He can't move. It's teal.
The phone and Goggles, no one else. Goggles' shaky breaths permeate throughout the dark room.
“Please, please.” Goggles quietly begs. Rider doesn’t want to look away, but he does. Teal, teal.
“It’ll only be a second. It really only burns for a little bit.” An electronic voice cuts through the darkness.
Glowing teal ink appears in a shower, lighting up a tied up and bruised Goggles from behind. He’s crying, he’s crying. He struggles to break free.
“Ri, Rye! Please…” He calls out to him, shaking.
He can’t move, he can’t move! Goggles, he’ll… Goggles.
He’s pushed into the shower, screams escape his mouth. It’s silent agony, yet Rider doesn’t move a muscle. He’s stuck, he’s stuck.
Eventually, the screams dissipate, and the teal glow cuts out. Lights flicker on around him, but the only thing he sees is Goggles, sitting idly. The phone leaves. Teal, teal, teal.
He unties him, and gives him a pair of glasses. His goggles are discarded on the ground.
He gets a look of his eyes before he wears the glasses. Once so bright and happy, blue glowing with excitement like the sky, brightening his day, is now dead and teal. Standoffish, controlling. He’ll never smile again. His gaze is far off, never focusing on what’s around him.
He passes by Rider without a second glance, without seeing him. Nothing between them. He leaves, and he’s alone.
He’s been alone since the moment the screams turned into teal.
…
“Rye-rye? You alright there?” Goggles taps his shoulder from his slouched position.
“Huh?” Rider blinks. Blurry. He must’ve fallen asleep with his contacts in.
“You alright? You’ve been passing out a lot recently.” Goggles stands over him, his clear, blue eyes looking at him.
“Fine.” Rider sits up and stretches. He’ll be sore, that’s for sure. He can’t bring himself to care, though. “Little tired, but the nap helped.”
He lies, he’s so tired. He’s so, so tired.
“Well.” Goggles’ rocking on the balls of his feet. “Everyone left already. Imma go take a shower, and then we can go home. Unless you wanna do something else.” His mischievous glint shines in the light.
He grips his jacket in his crossed arms. “We can go home.” He says. He would’ve loved to indulge Goggles, but he can’t. He touches his eye. The stares haven’t helped.
“Okay.” He stands there for a moment.
“Hey, if you ever want to talk about… anything, I’m here. Blue’s also here, and your team. The S4, too, maybe. But, you… You don’t have to, y’know…” He’s fidgeting, definitely resisting the urge to pull out some plums just to chew on them. Nervousness.
He stands up. “I know. But I’m fine.”
He walks towards the exit. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
He walks out.
…
Saved, he’s saved. A smile is plastered on his face.
He’s in control. He’s okay. He looks around the platform.
Nobody’s dead, team Blue, Cuttlefish, and Nana aren’t tied up anymore, the platform they were hanging from was empty. They’re at the surface now, it’s just Goggles and him left to leave.
“Goggles,” he turns to face him, but he’s staring at him.
Judgment in his eyes, staring at him with the most intense glare he has ever seen.
He’s cold again, he can’t move. No, No! There’s no teal, there’s nothing left to keep him, why can’t he move?
“Goggles-”
“Shut up.” He closes his eyes.
Cold, cold, he can’t move.
“Go-”
“Just shut up, Rider.” His name sounds like poison in his mouth.
He freezes, no, he takes a step back. He’s never called him Rider, not since.
“You hurt us. You betrayed us.” He moves closer, there’s something in his eyes, he’s never seen it at all.
“Goggles, please-”
“Please what? You don’t deserve any of this. You’re, you’re terrible. You’re worse than terrible, you’re sick! Who would do this? I trusted you, Rider, and you betrayed me.” With every word, the something becomes clearer. Bigger. Teal.
He feels teal.
“But, the phone-”
“Oh, excuses. You could’ve broken out sooner, couldn’t you? You knew what you were doing, and yet, you didn’t do anything. You sat and watched us get hurt because you were too weak to do anything.”
Something. Teal.
He knows what it is, it’s
“I hate you, Rider.”
He walks off into the sunset, while Rider stays in the shadows.
He, he…
Teal, that’s all he feels. He can’t breathe.
It’s numbing, it’s cold. It’s hypothermic.
He’s gone past the point of pain. He doesn’t feel it anymore. It’s all-encompassing.
Teal, teal, teal.
…
He wakes up. He doesn’t startle awake. He just does. Staring at his ceiling.
He can’t breathe. There’s not even a blanket atop him, but he feels the weight of an entire mountain on him.
It’s dark. Goggles is snoring next to him.
He’s so tired. He’s tired of everything.
He just lays there, he can’t sleep.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been laying there, but he hears some shuffling next to him.
"Rye?" A voice laced with sleep asks.
"Mm." He can only mutter a response.
"Rye-rye? Are you okay?" There's a face above him now. A little blurry. He doesn't have his contacts in.
He tilts his head slightly to see him a little better. His face is contorted in worry, that he can see through his blurry haze.
"Do, do you want to talk about it?" He's unusually quiet.
He does, but he can't. For the life of him, he can't speak.
"...alright." He looks at the clock in the room. "It's only about 4, do you want to go to bed?"
He's so tired. He's so, so tired. But he can't sleep. Those windows over and over, he kills Hachi and Goggles. The screams and the dead eyes stare at him through the darkness. The look Goggles gave him, those eyes. He can't, he can't-
"Ach, you're crying!" He's loud. Typically, he wouldn't want that, but…
He's still alive and like himself. He isn't dead, sanitized, nor does he hate him.
He's okay.
He finds the strength to wipe away tears.
"'m fine." He whispers.
"You sure?" Whisper-yelling, his team's asleep, so it makes sense.
"Talk. No." Again, a whisper. A little slurred too.
"Oh." Goggles sat in the bed for a little bit. "I'll get you a drink and maybe some food." Taking uncharacteristic care to shimmy out the bed, and he leaves the room.
It takes herculean strength for him to pull himself up into a somewhat sitting position.
"I'm back." A sing-song voice. He has a drink and some kind of fruit. Surprisingly not pickled plums. Dates, probably.
Goggles helped him tilt the drink back, allowing him sips at a time.
"Food?" He asks, putting the cup on the bedside table.
He barely nods.
Again, this song and dance of Goggles helping him out.
Eventually, they just sit there, side to side, shoulder to shoulder.
Rider feels his pinky being hooked on. "May I?" Goggles asks.
"Mm." He looks towards Goggles.
He's smiling. He's not scared, not sanitized, not dead. He's here, and he's happy to see him.
Goggles wraps an arm around him, and Rider lays his head on his shoulder. It's a little awkward, him being taller and all, but it's perfect.
He can breathe. Nothing hurts.
“I love you, Rye.” He whispers, blue eyes alight with love.
He can sleep.