Work Text:
Veritas slinks down against the door of his apartment, letting the satchel hit the ground with a resounding ‘thump’. A hand finds its way to his messy locks, yanking the laurels out. He was no victor. Victors do not cry, right? That’s what mama- mother.
That’s what mother always said. His cheeks stung at the reminder of distant pain.
He covers his ears…everything’s quiet. Too quiet. Oh, the ceiling fan switch was right in front of him…surely he could just get up. He could turn the fan on, and everything would be okay. He’d cool off. The white noise would help him.
And yet Veritas remained sat on the ground, the only thing punctuating the nauseatingly still air being his broken sobbing and shaky breaths.
He felt dizzy. Of course, that was the result of having to pretend and act like he was fine while getting out of his car; when in reality, it was the claustrophobia of his headpiece–his mask if you will– making it impossible to breathe right. But even in the privacy of his own home, the silence choked him, made him feel so incredibly self-concious.
It was embarrassing. So incredibly embarrassing. Veritas Ratio is not a crier. He barely emotes outside of his usual grimace and look of disappointment. He became the talk of the town when someone caught him smiling once (not that he liked it). And yet, now, his face was sticky with streak marks of tears…hey, when did he stop crying?
He shakily inhaled, the last few tears left in his eyes dripping down onto the floor. He coughed a little bit. He was at the last stage of his breakdown…what was it called again? Veritas couldn’t remember.
He slinked down lower, feeling the weight of true silence punctuate the air. He felt like throwing up again. When did he last eat today, again? Did he eat today…? He must have, he’s Doctor Ratio.
Doctor Ratio…foolish. He was a fool to think that his brain could carry him that far. Veritas would’ve laughed if he had the energy to do so.
Lonely, lonely, lonely. That was what the daggers said while they punctuated his thoughts. Those happy smiles of cheerful casualness. He couldn’t maintain that, no matter how hard he tried. Does he know anyone who knows how he jokes around? Does he have any real friends? Does he know people who can see him as Veritas, and not Doctor Ratio?
His head hurts. He can’t remember.