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Pain.
It was always there.
He had never welcomed it. Why would he? It simply invaded his life and made itself home. It lurked beneath his skin and festered below his scars. He tried to keep it back with medication and treatment, but it would always be back to dig its dirty claws into him and make him suffer. Everything was futile in the end, it seemed.
He wished he could confront it face-to-face and dig his claws into it until it finally understood what torment it always put him through. He wished he could strangle it until it died, and he could be free from it forever.
Unfortunately, it was a part of him now. His body belonged to it and it belonged to him. To take one down would take the other down in tandem.
Subspace didn’t feel like dying.
He had a lot of better things to do than die. It would just be a waste of time, really. He still needed to finish his projects and keep pursuing his research.
So, he lived, and he lived with the pain.
He pushed through it when it weighed heavy upon his shoulders and refused to let him out of bed. Pushed through it when it made his head spin and his vision blur. He had to, because the world did not have the time to wait for him to catch his breath. He either got back up on his feet or he was left behind.
It didn’t always make sense to Subspace. Despite his authority in Blackrock, it never felt like he truly had power. He’d have thought that being the head of the entire robotics division would give him the ability to at least make his own schedule, but of course he couldn’t. Of course his superiors had the final say.
He never truly got power with that promotion, did he? Just more responsibility.
Everything was easier when he didn’t have to do everything on his own.
…
Well, that was enough of those traitorous thoughts. Blackrock was designed that way because it was simply the most efficient path to superiority. There was a reason Blackrock was simply better than any other faction. Subspace had no intention of ever turning his back on it. There was no way these kinds of complaints, even if they stayed in his mind, could fly.
He needed to get back up on his feet.
Moving only reminded him of why he had chosen to stay still and think, though.
Pain coursed through his pain like a poison, a fitting descriptor considering the origin of his illness. He hissed to himself and continued pushing until he was leaning back in… his chair.
He fell asleep in his chair? How peculiar.
That probably didn’t help the pain at all. Neither did the fact that he was still wearing his protective gear. His mask still pressed tightly against his face.
Oh well, it didn’t really matter. All he needed to do was let the throbbing subside. He just needed to let it get bored and spare him long enough to be productive.
It was a messy compromise he made with his pain, but he had no power here. That was a pretty recurring theme here, wasn’t it?
He let his body relax into his chair and waited.
…
…
…
“CREATOR.”
It would be a lie to say that the abrupt sound of the door opening and the grating noise of the Biograft’s voice disturbed his rest only because Subspace wasn’t resting.
The pain never subsided, and now his head was just hurting more from the noise.
“I AM HERE TO—”
“No.”
Subspace interrupted it. He was not going to deal with this, not with the way his head felt like it was being torn in two and the rest of his body was next up in line. He couldn’t handle the way that mechanical voice grated in his ears. Maybe he should fix that later, but he couldn’t be bothered to care about drafting a new update for the Biografts yet.
“Not now. Leave,” He said simply. It hurt too much to try to speak more.
“CREATOR, YOUR SCHEDULE—”
“Zeta, I couldn’t care less what my schedule is,” He hissed, both from his frustration and the throbbing in his jaw. “Leave, now. It is a direct order from your superior.”
The Biograft remained still for a moment, before exiting the room, shutting the door behind them.
Subspace didn’t currently possess the capability to feel bad for his words. He needed his time alone. Any other sound was just making him feel worse.
Unfortunately, the interaction still left him in a sour mood, even after he had plenty of time to relax after sending them away. At this point, he could tell that today was one of the bad days. The pain would never subside on his own. Either he sat here and did nothing all day — which was unacceptable — or he got up and took his painkillers to silence the beast for now.
Subspace leaned forward and reached their left hand up to unclasp their mask, letting it fall down to the floor. He could get it later.
His eye scanned the surface of his desk for his painkillers, only to be disappointed that it wasn’t conveniently within arm’s reach. It must be somewhere in here, though. The bottle he had designated to his private lab should always stay in his lab. It must just be on another desk.
Subspace pushed themself up to their feet, ignoring the way their limbs cried in protest. They had to keep going. The world would not wait for them.
Didn’t mean he wouldn’t get pissed off about it, though. His patience was already running thin, but now he had to prolong his pain because he didn’t know where he had put his medication.
Nothing could ever go right for him, could it? Nothing at all.
He found the bottle on his desk of robotics equipment, buried amongst the tools behind some small project he couldn’t be bothered to remember the details of.
They reached out to grab the bottle, only to somehow miss, instead knocking over the project on his desk and causing several loose pieces to scatter across the table top. The sound of several of them clattering to the ground was enough to make him snap.
Stupid depth perception. Stupid eyepatch. Stupid broken, barely working eye. Stupid scars. Stupid phucking pain. It was all the pain’s fault. If it could ever manifest into a physical being that Subspace could choke out on the spot, right now would be the perfect time. He so badly wanted to kill something, to tear it into shreds to make it feel just a fraction of his pain he had to live with daily.
He hated it. He hated it so much. He hated stumbling over his own feet from the headaches. He hated dropping things every time his right arm seized from the pain. He hated waking up to this agony every single time. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t anything ever go right for him?
Trying their best to restrain themself from tearing something apart, they reached forward again and actually grabbed the pill bottle. Silently grateful for its easy-open nature, he unscrewed the lid, shook out a ton of the pills, popped them in his mouth, and swallowed them all. He didn’t bother to count how many, but hopefully it was enough to drown out the pain forever. He just wanted that vile creature dead. Anything to make it stop.
They screwed the lid back on messily and threw it back onto the desk, the bottle toppling over and rolling off the table. They really couldn’t be bothered to care, and their chair was too far for them to reason walking back before the medication had kicked in, so they ended up lowering themself to the floor and laying against the chilly surface instead.
The floor didn’t feel nice, per say, but being able to lay down at all felt a lot better than whatever horrible posture he had fallen asleep in at his desk.
Now for another waiting game.
The clock was ticking, but all Subspace could do was close his eye and wait.
…
…
“Subspace.”
What was up with everyone bothering him today?
He felt tired. Drowsy and tired. They just didn’t have the energy, so they chose to not respond to Hyperlaser. They didn’t feel like dealing with him today.
“We have a— …Subspace?”
He closed his eye tighter and pretended to not hear.
“What are you doing.”
It was a question, but it didn’t sound like one. He opened his eye to see the masked mercenary standing over him, no visible expression in that blank, blacked-out visor.
He still didn’t respond. He just didn’t have the energy. His whole body felt heavy, as if a weight was pressing against him. Why did he still feel bad? The painkillers were supposed to make him feel better.
Subspace could faintly recall seeing the medication bottle fall off the table earlier. Maybe he could take a few more. Maybe the pain had been so bad that it was still trying to break through the walls he had built with the pills. Maybe he just needed some more.
“…—ace. You aren’t listening to me, are you.”
His eye focused back on Hyper’s visor. There was a brief pause as Subspace tried to piece together why Hyperlaser was even here. “…What?” He muttered.
“We have a Phight today,” Hyperlaser told him, which made his heart drop instantly. “You need to get up, the—…”
He stopped listening after that.
A Phight. Today? When was that a thing? Was day was it? How come nobody had told him they had a Phight today?
His body itched to move, but he didn’t.
“…—nd you aren’t listening again. Subspace.” Hyperlaser snapped him back to attention. “What happened? It’s unlike you to be so unresponsive. Are you hurt?”
Hurt? No, “I shouldn’t be,” they murmured. Did they look hurt? Did the medication not work?
He needed to be up and running by now. The world would not wait for him. Why was he laying here if he had a Phight to attend?
Something was still wrong with his body.
He pushed himself slowly up into a sitting position while Hyperlaser gave him his space. It didn’t take much effort, luckily, to grab the pill bottle from nearby, thanks to the fact that it had fallen earlier.
Finally, something convenient happening.
He unscrewed the unevenly sealed lid and poured out a whole ton more pills into his left palm, reaching back to swallow them. Instead, a hand lunged forward and grabbed his wrist, startling him into dropping most of the pills.
He stared at them on the ground.
“What are you doing?” Hyperlaser asked, an unusual hint of urgency in his voice.
“…’M takin’ my pain meds,” He mumbled, eye still fixed on the pills. They looked like little dots on the ground. Like stars, scattered across a night sky.
“I can assure you that there’s no way your dosage is ten pills at a time.”
Subspace frowned. That was true, but… “They aren’t working,” he explained. “Still feel…”
He didn’t know how to describe how he felt. Tired felt like the best word, but it didn’t feel like the correct one. It was a strange kind of exhaustion that made him want to close his eye and go to sleep, even though he had things to do and no reason to sleep.
“In pain?” Hyperlaser filled in the blank. But he was wrong.
“No. Jus’ bad.”
There was a brief second of silence before Hyperlaser continued, his voice adopting a serious tone to it.
“Subspace, how many did you take?”
They stared at the stars on the ground.
“Subspace.”
The pink demon grumbled to himself. Why was Hyperlaser getting on his case about this? Why did he even care? The two weren’t close. Coworkers at best. Sure, they’ve spoken before, but Hyper was never so… intrusive. One of the things Subspace liked about Hyperlaser was how the mercenary knew how to listen and when not to pry, but now he wasn’t letting Subspace go.
“I ‘unno. Didn’t count,” He muttered, trying to pull his arm away from Hyper to no avail. There were still a couple pills in his hand, but they weren’t letting him take them.
Hyper was also inspecting his pill bottle, which startled Sub as he hadn’t noticed it being taken from his hand. When he looked down, though, there was certainly no more bottle in his right hand. How peculiar. He didn’t recall that happening.
“What do you mean you didn’t count?” Hyper growled lightly, once again confusing Subspace. He really was not used to this attitude from Hyper. Maybe it was a little similar to the way he acted during Phights, but it was still odd.
Whatever. He didn’t have the energy to try to figure out what it meant. He didn’t even if he wasn’t feeling like his mind was shrouded in fog. All he wanted was for Hyperlaser to just get off his case already.
Why did it matter? Today was a bad day. He had resigned himself to that fact. Even if he couldn’t feel the sharp claws of pain digging at his throat, he could still feel the weight and heaviness on his chest that… usually wasn’t there. Not in this flavor, at least.
Huh. Maybe he should be curious about that. But he wasn’t.
Subspace didn’t have the energy.
He didn’t feel like thinking too hard about it.
Didn’t feel like questioning it.
Didn’t feel like listening to whatever Hyperlaser was saying now.
Didn’t even feel like staying awake.
He awoke to a blistering pain in his head and stomach. It was quite the jump; last he recalled, he was in quite the painless state.
Subspace could vaguely hear the sound of his own name, and perhaps something shaking him lightly. All he could do was let out a quiet hiss, just barely opening his eye enough to catch a blur of black and blue in his vision.
“Subspace,” A voice called again, one that he could definitely tell was Hyperlaser. Subspace blinked rapidly to adjust to the shapes and colors around him, staring at the figure above him until it finally started to look something like the Blackrock mercenary.
“Wh…” He muttered, letting out a few coughs and wincing at the pain.
All Hyperlaser did was let out a heavy exhale, pulling away.
Subspace tried to understand what had just happened, trying to stitch together the foggy memories. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, it always went from a peaceful few moments to a world of pain.
He was tired of being in pain.
Hyperlaser must have done something.
The scientist growled, trying to push himself up to a sitting position.
“What did— What did you do?” He glared at Hyperlaser, venom dripping from his words. “I feel like shit.”
The mercenary just let out a dull scoff, otherwise unphased by his anger. “Yeah. You almost died.”
Subspace wasn’t amused.
“I mean it,” Hyper continued. “You’re welcome.”
“That’s impossible,” Sub snapped. “You aren’t a healer. Stop trying to play coy with me. What did you do?”
Hyperlaser paused for a second, his hands curled into fists as he took a deep breath. “You overdosed on your pain medication,” He put it simply. “I used your narcan to bring you back.”
“You—” Subspace took a moment to process it. “No, I didn’t overdose.”
“You did, I saw you pass out in front of me,” Hyper insisted. “You’re lucky I even know how to use the stuff. You would have died. Or maybe you technically did, and the narcan revived you.”
The pink-horned demon scanned the room for a moment, before finally spotting the used narcan spray. Alongside that, he could see a bunch of his painkillers scattered across the floor.
He… remembered that now.
He took his painkillers, and…
No, he didn’t overdose. Why would he do that? He wasn’t stupid. He knew he could die if he overdosed, he would never do it willingly.
“The medical staff are on the way, they’ll be here any minute now. Called them while you were down,” Hyperlaser informed him. “They can handle the rest of this,” A brief pause. “Also, we aren’t going to the Phight tonight. Medical emergency and all.”
He bristled at the concept. “I didn’t overdose, what are you talking about,” He snapped. “I was perfectly fine, now I’m in pain again. The pills were just doing their job. I could have gone to the Phight. Who are you to decide these things for me? I am your superior, you listen to me, not the other way around.”
Hyperlaser stood up abruptly, his fists still clenched.
“Look,” He let out a warning growl. “I am not dealing with this. Not after I watched you stop breathing. If you don’t want to accept that you basically died, that’s not my problem. The medical staff can deal with that.”
Subspace didn’t respond.
“It’s not my job to babysit you. I’m not going to fight with a brick wall about this. Go teach Zeta how to administer narcan.”
“Why should I? I’m not stupid. I would never overdose,” Sub muttered. If Hyperlaser heard, he didn’t say anything.
But Subspace did, didn’t he? He did overdose. He tried to recall those memories the best he could, digging through the fog surrounding the past hour or so. He didn’t even know how many of the pills he took, just that, in his blind frustration and overwhelming pain, he hadn’t cared. Anything to make it stop. Anything to release him from those claws.
They had tried to smother the pain until it died, forgetting the crucial lesson they had learned long ago that there was no killing their pain without killing themself too. Or maybe a subconscious part of him still knew. Maybe the blissful promise of nothingness had seemed more appealing than the pain.
Subspace didn’t feel like dying.
But he got awfully close to it. Closer than he’d like to admit.
Hyperlaser didn’t leave, though the way he stared at the exit of Subspace’s private lab made it seem like he wanted to. Maybe he’d leave once the medical team took over for him.
Sub didn’t know why the mercenary had helped at all. Maybe if he looked harder, he could see the way their clenched hands trembled, the way his voice had shook just moments prior. But he didn’t, of course.
Nothing could ever go right for Subspace.