Chapter Text
‘’Sooooooo, Meddy, I’ve made an invention that I think you’ll just love!’’
‘’Last time you said that you made an automatic carrot peeler that almost took my eye out.’’
‘’No, no, it’s different. This one will not ‘almost’ take your eye out! It certainly will!. .. No, I’m just kidding.’’ Subspace snickered and put a blindfold on Medkit’s eyes, being careful not to stick it onto his antlers on accident. He smiled widely, running to get a prototype of his creation and almost tripping on his own glee. He sat it on a stool, and it slightly whirred, a hum running through the gray laboratory. Medkit heard it lowly, which only made him more nervous. “I don’t love chainsaws.” Medkit advised. Subspace narrowed his eyes, sneering at the doctor. “Quit complaining! I listened to what you had to say!” This perked Medkit up. “Really now, Subspace? That’s surprising. Also, what’s with this blindfold? Is this necessary?” he laughed almost, tone condescending which Subspace did not approve of. What’s the point of doing things for people if they won’t be grateful in return?
Subspace tugged his blindfold tighter, running to get his phone. He turned it silent, opening the camera app, almost trembling with laughter as he snapped a picture of the deer. The green blindfold he’d specifically picked for his work partner blended well with his attire, and Subspace commended himself for his beautiful choice. God, Medkit looked so damn stupid with that blindfold on. He ran to untie it before Medkit got suspicious, but he also ran to prop his phone on a table to record this glorious moment. “Alright, Meddy, close your eyes!!” Subspace fumbled with the blindfold, it falling through his fingers when he tried to latch onto it. He cursed under his breath. “Sub, you’re fumbling.” Medkit scoffed. “I can see that, genius!!” Subspace retorted. After ten more minutes of attempting to untie his own handiwork, he gave up and plucked a pair of scissors from his pocket and snipped. The blindfold fell to Medkit’s lap. How embarrassing it was for the acclaimed inventor, to catch himself fumbling with a blindfold on camera. He sighed exasperatedly.
“Alright! On three!!” Subspace cheered happily. Medkit hummed in agreement.
“One!”
“Two!!”
“Three!!!”
Medkit opened his eyes, and there he saw a tiny Biograft. It had antlers similar to his and its accents glowed a low teal. Its eyelids were more bored or exasperated than angry, opposed to any other of Subspace’s inventions, who always looked like someone else ate their shrimp fried rice while they were away. “Well, what is it?” Medkit asked. “Well, you said you wanted to use the crystals for good rather than harm, right?” Subspace chirped. “Well, what if we made two models that did either? See, it even looks like you! Say hello to your child!!” Subspace carefully picked the tiny thing up and placed it into Medkit’s hands. “It’s very nice, Subspace. I’m almost impressed.” he concluded. “Almost?! Am I not impressive enough for you!?... but aaaanyways, do you want to work on it together with me? You have a better understanding of the crystal’s healing properties after all.” Subspace lowered his voice to a normal tone, much different to his boisterous laughing. Medkit liked this change. “I’d be honored to, Subspace.” “Yay!! Thanks Meddy!!” Subspace sang, latching onto him tightly, almost dropping the little robot. Medkit smiled softly, tentatively embracing the other inventor, loosely holding onto him. The video ends.
Subspace sobs, a wracking noise shivering his body to his core, replaying the video, over and over again he rewinds, ingraining every little word into his mind, hurting his brain more than it helps. His breath hitches and he tosses and turns in his messy disheveled bed and throws a hand into his messy, disheveled hair, and begins to pull, the pain keeping him centered in reality and it hurt, hurting for a very hurtful pain he was, eye puffy and stained wet with tears as he wails and cries, longing for what the two once had, longing to work by the healer’s side, longing to finish the healer Biograft with his work partner in his honor. Subspace still has that Biograft- its deer antlers ripped off and thrown aside, broken and cracked on the floor of his absolutely filthy living space somewhere- he’ll have to clean it. Maybe when he’s not having a mental breakdown. He buries his face into his pillow, stained and soppy with snot and tears, and he wishes instead of his face in his pillow it were his body in a grave.
Subspace claws at his only remaining eye, it only reminds him of what he’d done to Medkit’s, and he so, so wishes he could give the doctor his eye. Wishes the doctor could ever forgive the inventor, for a sin so very unforgivable. The one person he cared about, gone with the wind, blown away in the dust- only reminding him of their dusty shared laboratory- making him wail and sob even more, echoing through his dingy apartment (he’s grateful he can afford soundproof walls) because it’s all Blackrock allows him to afford, wondering where Medkit is now. Is he happy- happier? Having fun? Eye healing…? Subspace hits himself for having such a stupid wish, scraping his pale arm with his sharp claws, the former thought an ideal scenario, and he sighs, shivering like he wants to shatter himself humiliatingly. Blackrock’s finest reduced to a depressed, lonely wreck without his work partner whom he swore he didn’t even like in the first place. Oh, but he did.
He loves him, and he loathes him, and he needs him, so much more than he needs air, more than anything else, and he fights a losing battle in an attempt to resist the urge to walk over to his apartment’s balcony and jump off- a futile effort, really, as he’s devastated and no longer knows how he’d ever return to Blackrock without the deer, every small thing reminding him of what he’d done, the sins he’d committed, guilt weighing on him like a stack of bricks crushing his head and his heart, his brain going in circles over and over, dying and withering away. He never deserved Medkit- but Medkit deserved the world . Subspace didn’t deserve to breathe , the clothes he wore, the space he took, the stars in the sky he had the pleasure of looking towards during the clearest nights there were- a rare moment, admittedly, smoke polluting Blackrock’s sky like Medkit had polluted Subspace’s mind. He whines again at the thought of him, guilt and contempt and unrequited love roiling through his chest, and it seems like he’ll never say goodbye to the thought of the one person that made him some semblance of happiness. The contrast between them was the best part to him; Subspace’s loud boisterous energy and Medkit’s nonchalant constantly tired expression. Subspace only imagined their contrast now, Medkit happier and at peace while Subspace festered in his own rot, a result of the crystals he's remained tampering with. It was so long ago, and yet he yearns. He yearns, yearns for hatred and a heart, a home for his lost soul to return to, a dream he was willing to envelop his entire body in. Subspace love-loathes Medkit so much, so much it’s maddening, consuming his stone cold heart in poisonous hatred and desire. He wishes he’d never done that, didn’t let Medkit go anywhere, but it’s too late to mourn what he’s lost.
All Subspace has to look forward to is his first ‘phight’ with silhouettes of what seemed to be his teammates and enemies on the flyer he’d been given when he was invited to attend the ‘sensational’ TV show. One of them has a crystal between their deer-like antlers.
Maybe he’d postpone his demise. Maybe.