Work Text:
Numbness
That's all he's ever felt. The world never felt truly real. To him, it was all just a show. His actions had no impact. Neither his friends or enemies. Even his partner... He shakes his head at this thought. This is silly, everything matters. That's what his friends told him. His partner told him that he mattered. They told him that he was the light of their life, that without him, they wouldn't feel like living anymore. He knows they're lying. His life isn't worthy of such a response. Although everything to him was meaningless, he felt that he was, somehow, more meaningless than everyone else. It doesn't make sense to him, but at this point, he's accepted it. When everything feels like it's just been scripted, predetermined, it feels hard to see the reason to make an effort anymore.
The muffled yet deafening noise fills his head again. It tells him many things, how everything he does can be done better by someone else, how he can be replaced with a turn of the dime, how he doesn't matter, how he's doomed to being someone that's useless and obscure, forever forgotten by all he's known. The thoughts feel like it's drowning him. He wants so desperately to escape, but it has already filled his lungs. And he is no longer able to scream.
His partner notices his silence. They notice their declining physical and mental state. He doesn't want them to worry, his troubles are only meant for himself to battle. He knows he's going to lose against the looming fears, why bring his beloved partner with him? But his partner is so persistent, so caring, so kind... How could he say no to them? Surely allowing them to know about his problems wouldn't hurt. Besides, maybe this might be thing he needs to finally escape from his fate and cut the chains that have dragged him to the bottom of the sea.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
No, no, no.... This has all gone horribly wrong. He shouldn't have done that. Now their partner is crying and is even more worried for him. This wasn't worth those meager minutes of relief, of stifled bliss. He probably felt nothing in those minutes and only faked it. He shouldn't have ever told them about his problems. He knows he would've been fine if he didn't spill out the fears and troubles that have taken hold of his mind. Yet here they were, his partner sobbing on the floor and him looking at them with apathy. He couldn't cry. He couldn't feel anything anymore. All he's done is make things worse. He's been selfish and took that "opportunity" to feel something and it has caused distress to the one he... loves? If he couldn't decipher how he felt about them, maybe all hope was lost. Maybe he has sunken too far in the murky waters of fate and destiny. Maybe he has submerged himself too deep into the sea that was his thoughts. Maybe it was better to end things once and for all.
Everyone he's known has told him that the afterlife was full of eternal happiness and bliss. Where no one has to feel pain nor sorrow any longer. He wants those beliefs to be real, otherwise, he'd be doing this all for nothing. He already wrote a final letter to his partner, in hopes they'll understand why he has made this choice. He recalls what he said in the note, how he hasn't been feeling anything and how he doesn't even know if he still loves them back. For a brief moment, a pang of guilt shoots through his heart but just as quickly as it came, it leaves him. He tries grasping for the feeling again. He wants to feel something for one last time before he is gone forever, but the world has other plans and leaves him motionless as he stands at the rails of the rooftop.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
He breathes out a sigh and looks down. The drop was big, enough to cause serious damage to someone. Enough to cause someone to leave the mortal realm and into the next. He takes a step closer and his thoughts drift towards what he was taught in school. He's been told that suicide was a sin, that if one killed themselves, they had just bought themselves a ticket straight to hell. That piece of knowledge stops him right at the edge. Was it really worth it? He answers with a yes. When he goes there, the Devil can make him feel agony. And that's all he ever wanted, to feel again.
He hears yelling behind him. On impulse he turns around, finding their partner running towards him. He takes note that they're crying, a piece of paper is clutched in their hands, and their bristles are messed up to oblivion. He's stuck in place, unable to move forward to rid the world of himself. Instead, he feels the arms of his loved one pick him up and hold him close. He can't tell what they're saying, probably something sweet and comforting, but it's something to hold onto he supposes. Their words, although mostly just noise to him, is familiar and calming. Even if he still couldn't feel anything mentally, at least he could feel the warmth of their arms. At least he could sense that they're trying to help him. He decides that he will live. For how could he leave the one that has cared and loved him through all his problems:
Paintbrush.
He senses that the chains are breaking and that the water is finally exiting from his lungs
He feels that he can breathe once more.
So he takes a deep breath after months of being submerged in an ocean.