Chapter Text
It was a car crash that started it.
I had dragged his splattered corpse out of the car myself in an attempt to resuscitate him, somehow. His face was barely even there, spared for his beautiful eyes, and his head was on backwards, but I just had to try to see him alive. Perhaps… perhaps it would all be just some terrible dream – the mind can be very cruel, after all. Still, he could not stand, his bone poking out from one of his legs. I still can’t remember which. And just to think, we were laughing 5 minutes ago. I ignored my own injuries to save a dead man, something I had admittedly told said dead man not to do, time and time again. I suppose I must have eventually given way to it all, because I can’t remember the rest of that day. I’ve been told I was then spotted by a passer by, taken to a hospital and eventually taken home. I don’t know how I don’t remember the hospital; I must have been there quite a few weeks, considering how I am now.
The funeral sounded grim – I was still in hospital when it was going on, so I couldn’t attend. You would imagine they’d wait for me to be discharged, seeing as, you know, I was his partner, but alas, that did not happen.
My left hand still itches, so I have to use a mirror. It’s tricky to itch your own hand, though, so someone also has to do it for me. It had to be amputated, as it was about as mangled as his face. I’ve started to get used to it now. I can’t pretend it hasn’t made everything harder, though.
I thought my hand meant I might have to quit my job, too, but I apparently didn’t. I had to adjust half my moves, though. Vector and Charmy are good to me, but I do think a part of it was the fact that less team members means less money earned, and any amount makes a huge difference for us. I have forgotten it isn’t there from time to time, somehow, though nothing life-ending. At least not yet.
It comes as no surprise that I think of him a lot. The other day, I even listened to one of the songs he always talked about, one called Bitten Twice by a band I’d never heard of. I always lied to him when he asked me if he’d mentioned it before. I’d say no just to see him so passionate about something that wasn’t the future. So, in my grief, I put it on.
From the moment I heard the intro, I knew it was a mistake.
The bass was far too loud for my tastes. As for the vocals? They were strange, to say the least. The chorus, an obnoxious yelling of “Don’t be bitten twice” over and over, was also not for me. We clearly had very different tastes, to say the least. Even so, I found myself listening on loop, despite my disdain for the music. It was, after all, his favourite song. His favourite song. Him.
I woke up this morning tired, as per usual. Half is the grieving, half is the fact I don’t sleep normally anymore. It was time to buy groceries – the bread was mouldy again. I was bitter and cold on my way there, despite the heat of the sun being out in full force. Kids laughed and ran past me as their parents chuckled at the sight of them having fun. It was cartoonishly happy. I remained icy as ever, trying not to scoff at the sight of them.
On my way, I passed by the tragic scene. Other than a brownish stain most people won’t even notice, there’s no evidence anything even happened here. Of course, it was in the news – accidents like that don’t go undocumented – though, most people just go about their daily lives. A few days ago, I overheard someone say something along the lines of, “Didn’t that crash happen here?” though not much else has arisen.
I entered the store and checked my list. At the bottom, in childish scrawl, Charmy had written something I couldn’t read. Knowing him, it would probably be candy. For once, I decided to buy him something: I decided upon a bag of fizzy gummies, seeing as he seemed to like them.
I couldn’t help but notice the teal nails the cashier had as I paid; my eyes were fixed on the golden bracelets in the window of the jeweller’s; even the grey of the sky caught my attention. Usually, I notice things like this, however, never to this degree. And I swear, I could hear his laughter. His laugh was so sweet, so cruel and taunting. Was that even his real laugh, or had I forgotten it?
I opened the front door and made my way into the kitchen, dumping the bags down on the kitchen side. Charmy was being particularly restless, asking if I had bought anything for him, as he usually did. I tossed the sweets his way and he squealed in delight, frantically opening them. I ignored him and went up to my room.
I slumped on my bed and stared at the ceiling, when all of a sudden, something caught me by surprise. A voice. A sweet, soft voice.
“Espio… Espio!”
It couldn’t be… I had seen him die, right in front of me! He couldn’t be here! I turned to face the voice, triumphant. Of course he wasn’t there, he was dead.
But there he stood.
He was laughing. Silver was there, really, and he was laughing in my face. My very own partner was laughing. I wasn’t sure whether to be overjoyed and laugh with him or to be horrified at the cruel spirit he had become. So, like a fool, I stood there.
The voice began to overlap, till a chorus of out of sync “Espio”s flooded the room. I looked around, and indeed, there wasn’t just the one Silver anymore. One was holding my hands, laughing; another kissed my cheek, laughing; a tiny Silver sat atop my head, laughing. They all looked equally ghostly. Were they ghosts? Perhaps. Or perhaps they were hallucinations. It wasn’t my place to judge, having seen neither in the past.
“Silver?” I muttered, “Is that really you?”
Silver replied with nothing but a laugh. I pressed on.
“Silver, please, just answer me!”
Still no reply. Typically I’d be stronger willed, but instead, this became the perfect time to wallow in my grief and confusion. Silver persisted, his duplicates each hugging me tighter. It was suffocating.
I let myself drown in his limbs until the commotion downstairs became audible. Charmy was whining – typically, I’d hate that, but I was able to be freed from the bodies with ease. Vector burst through my door and he vanished altogether. I snapped myself out of it as Vector told me what had gone on and asked me to de-escalate the situation. I couldn’t grasp a word of what he said, but I left anyway. Perhaps I would pick it up with context clues. Nevertheless, it would be better than facing the haunting I just had.