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Okay. Yes- First, First you pour the liquid into your eyes, right? There, there was something about ethyl alcohol going somewhere, I think.
The details of the book and his lover's voice fragmented and distorted in Emil's head, and he couldn't quite remember the instructions clearly. His fingers trembled as he lifted the bottle to his left eye; Pausing in hesitation.
This is going to hurt, He thinks. But the thought of stopping now sends a shiver up his spine- Ada had been truly frustrated with the lack of progress they were making together, and every second it seemed like she lost hope. He remembered slipping deeper and deeper into a fuzzy fugue-like state, drifting about like he had no thoughts- and then, he couldn't remember anything. And Ada always woke him up from it, She always saved him, and yet she was so frustrated. He could see it in the way her lips unpleasantly pursed when she brought him out of his trances, the short, blunt and almost bittersweet way she talked to him- A sharp contrast from the way she used to look at him. He never did anything for her, did he? He was dead-weight. Useless. Deranged. Psychotic, in some cases. He only dragged her down, yet he craved so, so badly to be with her. Ada was perfect, a saint.
And it hurt so bad to see her grow colder.
But with this, if I do it right- He pauses his train of thought, shuddering out a breath. Then it'll be okay. I'll fix myself- Then Ada won't have to be stressed anymore. She'll go back to loving me, and she'll look at me with her pretty, pretty eyes again, and We'll hold hands and she'll kiss my forehead and call me hers. Like how it's supposed to be.
Emil unscrewed the bottlecap, letting the liquid pour directly into his eyes- A facsimile of plastic, yet softened and burned by the acidic liquid dumped in so unceremoniously. The patient recoiled, clasping his hand over his eye at the stinging sensation and he bit back a scream. I've been through worse, I need to do this, and then I'll be fixed- I promise you, I promise you, Ada- I'll fix myself so you don't have to ever again.
Thin and bony fingers scrabbled across the floor, blindly searching for medical implements that weren't exactly his, "borrowed" from his beloved in the dead of night. If he does this quickly and correctly, It'll get rid of the fog. The feeling of not knowing yourself. It'll get rid of all the bad stuff about him; Just like the book said- The one thing he could remember, the one thing he was hoping for; Almost religiously.
His fingers trembled as he raised the long and sharp, almost needle-like tool to the corner of his eye, feeling the living fabric of his eyelids twitch and try to close from the unfamiliar scorching feeling of the ethyl and the cold press of steel. Emil pried his eyes open further, distressed frown creeping up his face. It hurt, so bad. And he was going to make it hurt worse- But he'd do it. He'd do anything for Ada.
Hands shaking no less than before, he clinked the hammer against the end of the steel rod, hard as he was possibly comfortable with. And he shuddered, partially screaming before rolling back. He shrunk into himself, feeling the rod inserted directly into his brain. It stabbed him and it hurt like hell. Spasms racked his hands, and he was getting scared. He felt like there was a trickle of blood dribbling from his eye- But, fuck- It hurt so bad. He couldn't care, it just hurt.
And when he felt his eyes well up with tears, it was almost like the pain increased tenfold. Fingers came up to scrape and tug at his scraggly black hair. Emil was dry heaving, doubled over and panting and his brain getting foggier from the sudden pain, thoughts flickering in and out. Panic gripped his chest- He'd done it wrong. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He just, hit the wrong part of his brain. He didn't push whatever was broken back into place. Ada was going to be livid, right? He broke himself a little more trying to help.
Emil couldn't bring himself to tug out the needle- He couldn't think. His head got foggier and foggier, vision blurring as he watched droplets of blood hit the floor. He was going to die here, and the quietest part of himself wondered if he deserved it.
"Ada!" He rasped out, voice raw from years of disuse. Panic gripped him like a vice, and no matter how she'd react, he prayed she'd still save him this time. "Ada!.."
He kept crying out her name, vision going black. What is she going to think about this? Finding him doubled over in the closet, steel rod jammed into his eye, shoved so deep it was halfway into his brain. He was choking, praying to anything that was listening, praying that it was her- that she would show up and save him.
--
Emil's head was foggy. Yet again. He felt something soft draped around his shoulders, hard wood pressed against his back. His eyes- Or rather, eye, blinked open. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his left eye, where he tried to lobotomize himself; blocking his vision.
Emil was trembling, vision fuzzy as he glanced up at the tawny-colored visage of his beloved. Her knees were folded under herself, clipboard in hand. She was more focused on what was in front of her, writing down some chicken-scratch doctor jargon Emil could never understand. He rasped out a weak breath, raising his hand up towards her.
The pointed glare she gave him made him lock up inside, too reminiscent of how the other doctors watched him all those months back.
"I take it that you're awake, Yes?"
Emil took some time to process that statement, mind moving at the pace of an hourglass tipped on its side. He himself didn't even know if he could be classified as "awake" at all. He felt foggy again, really. Like nothing.
"...You're reckless. And you might've just completely reset all of your progress by- Whatever you were trying to do!" Ada started, fingers rapping against her clipboard in a rhythm Emil was familiar with, but could barely remember.
"Never do that again! I don't even-" She hates me, doesn't she? The tirade inside his brain started, facial expression going flat. She hates me for this. She'll go back to being cold again, because I caused a problem for her. I know it's my fault that it happened, but...This isn't the outcome I wanted.
"Emil, I hope you realize how badly you might've just hurt yourself-" Her voice drifted in one ear and out the other. Emil was scared. Terrified. She was going to leave him here after this. All he wanted, was to fix himself. So he could be good enough for her. His eye that wasn't wrapped by a bandage drifted towards her hand, vision fixed on her. He shakily lifted his palm towards her. His fingers twitched, trembling like he barely had any control of his muscles.
He watched Ada's lips purse together into a thin line as he pressed his hand to the back of her own. He felt so weak inside, and all he needed was her.
"Emil." She blinked down at him, frustration lacing her tone.
"...please, could.... could you hold me?" Emil felt pathetic at that moment. Like begging for some comfort was going to make her crack.
Ada sighed through her nose, a sudden tired ache settling deep into her. She logically knows that a good psychologist wouldn't ever get frustrated with her patient, but it almost felt like Emil wasn't listening.
"Emil, dear. Can you rest here for me? I have something to do." She outright ignored his request, standing up. She brushed the wrinkles out of her dress from a quick moment, before leaving the closet without a word.
Emil felt his heart break just a little more. His head was pounding, and he knew he deserved her distance because he caused a problem, but- All he wanted was her. He was desperate to be comforted. To be loved. He missed her so badly already.
The patient curled into himself, back to the doorway. He stared at his hands, flexing them as they shook- Every part of him was shaking. Every part of him was hurting. And at the same time, he felt so numb. So overwhelmingly numb. He hated this. He hated being her problem, he was her love. Her one and only, right? So why? Why did he just, ruin everything he touched? He just wanted to help her. He really did. But he ruined it.
And I'm sure, I'm ruining her too.
Tears began to spill freely from his eyes, and he bit into his arm to muffle the sobs.
The feel of his own fabric on his teeth was soothing.
--
Ada was hunched over at her desk, furiously scribbling at a sheet of paper. She lost track of what she was writing long ago, emotions gripping her by the neck. She felt like she was choking, unable to suck in a breath.
"Why do you-" The quietest little sob tore itself from her throat, single tear dropping onto the page below her. The ink smudged, losing its shape.
She's crying, that's why. Ada paused, lifting up a sleeve to wipe the tears from her eyes. Ada hasn't cried for such a long time. Why? Why was everything building up like this?
It was frustration, wasn't it? Emil was regressing so far and it was like she couldn't do anything to stop it. He was losing himself further and-
She couldn't blame him for that. It struck a chord in her, realization ice cold and it felt like it stabbed her in the stomach. She was blaming him the whole time. Her fingers trembled as she looked down at them, and it reminded her so much of Emil's own hands- Cold, clammy and shaking like a leaf in the wind.
They were twined together hopelessly, weren't they? Emil was hers- Her possession to keep. Her lover and patient and everything that fit between those gaps. She was responsible for him- Through and through. And she couldn't blame a sick man for acting sick, how could she? How dare she?-
The lighting flashes outside of the window, thunder coming soon after. The rain pours down heavily from above; And she's gripped with panic.
She needs him. She needs him now- She's going to barge into there and pour her heart out to him, gore herself open because the guilt creeping up her spine was far too much-
Ada swivels around, her chair creaking- And she nearly gasps, hiccupping at the sight behind her. The hallway light was on, silhouetting the form of Emil in a cloak of black shadow. His breathing was uneven and ragged, and seemed deafening against the rain. She couldn't see his face, and yet she knew he was fixated on her.
--
Emil couldn't stop himself- He hadn't known when he started, but he dug his teeth into the fragile cotton of his arm, ripping a chunk out. He felt the fluff touch his tongue, becoming damp with spit, then the taste of copper filled his mouth- Yes, Yes- This- This is what I need. Right? It hurts. But it makes sense.
He felt woozy, blood and damp stuffing puddling together and mixing on the floor. His mouth was covered in his own sickly ichor, staining his lips and teeth a bitter red. He spit out another chunk of himself, watching it flop onto the floor uselessly. Oh, It was so strangely beautiful.
Emil's ears perked at a noise from down the hall- It sounded like a sob. Was his darling Ada.. crying? Did he make her cry? I- Oh, nononono... My dear..
The patient pushed himself up, the pain stabbing through him being ignored. His knees shook as he stood, threatening to give out at any second. He stumbled forward, barely remembering the difference between left foot and right foot forwards, tripping over himself as he walked. The hallway lights were flickering, floor creaking with every step he took. Emil felt foggy, again. His brain wasn't entirely there, body slumping over with each step until he felt so much like he was going to fall he pulled himself up. Blood was dripping down in streams from him, leaving a trail as he staggered his way around blindly.
His brain was locked onto the thought of Ada, and he couldn't discern why, for the most part.
She probably didn't want to see him.
But yet he pushed forwards anyways, vision going black.
Soon enough, he pushed his body against her door, the creaking of the sturdy oak against rusted hinges masked by the sound of thunder. Emil stood silently, head spinning as his vision tunneled in on her. He didn't speak, not one bit. He didn't know how long he stood there, feeling like eternities were passing by in seconds. Ada turned around, her face pale and fingers trembling- Not something Emil saw often with her.
It was almost like Ada saw a ghost when she looked at him. He watched as she raised a palm to her mouth, eyes watering.
"Emil?"
Emil didn't quite respond, yet his heart lurched at the softness in her tone. It was already pounding in his chest from pumping so much blood that he was only losing. Only she could make him feel like this.
Emil raised his hand out towards her again, And he watched Ada's eyes go wide with horror as a thick droplet of blood poured from an open gash.
"Emil!- Emil, darling! Oh, please come here!- What did you do to yourself?" Ada's voice quaked, sucking in a much needed breath as she pushed herself from her desk.
She froze as she watched Emil stagger towards her, Shaken. He moved..So unnaturally now, stumbling about like his nerves were rotting away inside of him. Like he was rotting away. It was chilling, Watching your lover walk as though he was barely alive. Was this even Emil? Was this a trick, or a dream? She was terrified, frozen solid where she stood. Where did my lover go?
That question was answered as she felt cold, clammy hands grip her shoulders like a vice, red ooze and loose stuffing getting caught on and staining her dress. She stared Emil dead in his eyes, and her gaze drifted down to the sick, crooked-tooth, bloody smile gracing his features.
Emil collapsed against her, and she felt fugue. Like this was something she couldn't ever understand. And it made her excited, in a way. That no matter how close to death he may have been, her possession would always come back to her. It was hers, and hers only.
Dainty, clean hands cupped the cheeks of the patient's face, gently bringing him closer to her. Breath hitched in their respective throats, being caught by some unseen thorns.
This is sick. This is twisted. This is how everything should be.
Ada's lips gently met Emil's, the sickly taste of copper filling her mouth. She would never understand. She wanted to, oh so badly. She wanted every corner of him inspected and pried open at her feet;
And this is what she had right here, right now.
They'll be each other's devastation until the end of time, won't they?