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He was drowning.
As more time passed, he was sinking deeper into the invisible and intangible abyss, drowning in the abundance of air.
Slowly yet steadily, his descent continued.
He tried desperately to gasp for air, but his attempts were futile and he was choking.
He was being pulled down slowly, deeper and deeper in this downward spiral.
He was still drowning.
He tried to shout, but his voice abandoned him.
He tried to call for help, beg for it to stop, but there was no ear to listen to his words.
He felt nothing but pain, even if his surroundings themselves didn't hurt.
The weight pulling him down was unbearable, enveloping him in a tight painful hug.
He couldn’t move.
He couldn’t leave.
He was stuck there, destined to always keep falling down and down and down and–
The abyss emptied. It was a freefall until it wasn’t. He slammed on the ground, a pained yelp escaping his lips. He was lying down in a dark, endless void, looking up at nothing while surrounded by that same nothing.
He tried to pull himself to his feet, but the cursed weight tugged on his leg and dragged him down, pulled him in, sucked him into the abyss to become one with nothingness.
He tried to grab from something to save himself, all for nothing. He begged for it to stop, he couldn’t fight it anymore and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts and he’s drowning–
Chosen woke himself up with a scream. Breathless and gasping for air, he was relieved at the feeling of his lungs being filled to the brim. He tried to control his breathing to calm himself, but it was pointless, his body acting by itself as he freely inhaled the air. Since when did it have such a sweet taste?
Instinctively, he brought his leg close and started rubbing circles in his ankle.
He brushed the back of his palm across his face, which was dripping from the sweat mixed with tears. A lump had formed in his throat and he coughed out a pathetic cry. He tried to suppress the tears coming to him burying his face in his hands.
The creaking sound of the door opening brought his mind back to reality.
“Cho…?” Dark’s tired voice came from the door. “Are you alright?”
Chosen slowly perked his head up to look at him, wiping the tears from his eyes. He nodded yes. Dark didn’t buy it.
“I heard you scream in your sleep,” he said, coming to sit next to his brother.
“You… did?” Chosen seemed to sink further into himself.
“You woke me up.” Dark looked at him with his more serious stare. “I’m asking you again. Are you alright?”
The black hollowhead avoided the stare, instead preferring to focus on the opposite wall. Dark pinched at his forearm and he flinched.
“You’re not answering and I’m getting tired.”
“It was just a bad dream, nothing else.” The older muttered weakly, hugging his leg even tighter.
Dark sighed. This wouldn’t go anywhere if Chosen refused to tell him anything. He’s trying to help, for cloud’s sake, why won’t he make it easier for both of them? This stickin-
He instantly winced at the thoughts, pushing them away with a slight shake of his head.
He grabbed his brother by his shoulders. “I think I know you well enough to realize that the sight of you curled into a ball in tears is not your average Tuesday. And if you aren’t going to tell me what happened yourself, I’ll figure out a way to find out.”
Chosen turned to look at Dark with glassy eyes. Was this really his younger brother, the stick who seemed to always try his best to be a little glitch? He was there now, trying to be there for him. In his own unique way, at least.
He lowered his head. “I dreamed about my time with him.”
Dark’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor like a cartoon character. “For real?” He sat up straighter and leaned to Chosen. “Go on.”
The other didn't fail to notice his increased intrigue, feeling the attention suddenly on himself. “It was… bad…” he trailed off, sensing the lump return in his throat.
Dark patted his back softly with a hum. He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt in conflict.
He really wanted Chosen to continue. Curiosity had gotten the best of him in all that time and he’d always wanted to learn what had happened to his older brother before. After all, it was what led to his own creation too. On the other hand, there had to be a reason he hadn’t said anything in the first place. Past experiences had taught him not to try to pry too much into Chosen’s things.
Moreover, what reason had he given him to trust him, after all?
Fortunately for him, Chosen continued voluntarily. “I was enslaved for nearly five years on the computer before I escaped.” He almost seemed to shrink as he was sitting there, curled up into himself.
Dark’s eyes widened. “Five… Five years?!” he stammered, jumping to his feet. Chosen weakly nodded, which only seemed to cause greater frustration to the younger.
He started pacing around the room. “Keep going, Cho.”
Chosen glanced at him briefly and let out a small sigh. He suddenly found the sight of the wooden floor tiles to be very appealing. “I was… He'd use me as an adblocker,” he said in the weakest tone Dark had ever heard from him.
He stopped abruptly in his tracks to look at Chosen. The elder didn’t fail to notice the smoke from his shaking fists. “So that’s why… It’s because you escaped! I knew he wanted me to clean up his mess, but that… This bastard!” he growled, punching the nearest wall.
Yes, he was angry, no, furious. And he had every right to be furious with what had apparently happened without him having even a clue. If Chosen wasn't going to be mad about what he had done to him, someone ought to. That someone might as well be Dark. It was then that he promised himself he'd make them all pay. Starting with no other than him.
Chosen just stared at him in silence, gazing in astonishment at his clear distress for the situation.
“What did you think?”
Dark stopped and tilted his head at him.
“What did you think he made you for?” Chosen clarified. It was the younger’s turn to be captivated by the beauty of the floor.
“I don’t know. Never thought much back then.” He took his place back on the bed next to his brother. “Nor now, honestly, I don’t care what he thinks we can do,” he huffed, crossing his arms on his chest. “I do what I want!”
The elder opened his mouth to say something but ultimately decided against it and turned his gaze back to the floor. They sat there in uncomfortable silence, with only the rushed tapping of Dark’s unresting foot to be heard. He exhaled sharply some times, then piercing his lips in a frown Chosen always recognized.
“I get headaches,” Dark muttered after a while, his fists clenched.
Chosen didn’t know what to do with this information.
“We’re sharing our burdens, might as well go ahead,” he tried to fake a soft laugh that came out in the most forced way possible. Seeing no reaction from the older, he turned back to look at the floor.
“It’s the mission statement.” he mumbled, half hoping Chosen wouldn’t hear. But he did, and it was these words that got him to look at him with wide eyes, in this minutely reactive way of his.
“I thought you said–”
“I know what I said!” Dark cut him off with a flick of his wrist. “But it was a lie. I still feel it there, when I'm with you. It goes away sometimes, but I know it's still there.”
Chosen felt his body go numb. “Can’t you get it out?” he said, hanging on from a string of hope. He knew Dark couldn't. If he could, he'd have done it already.
“I tried to get it out, I really did. But it's been a part of me for way too long, it’s practically intertwined with the rest of me. If I removed it, it could actually kill me.” He dropped his head in his hands. “I can’t do anything, Cho.”
His voice was quavering and weak, something completely out of character for the red hollowhead.
Chosen really didn’t know what to think. Or do. Stick, he wasn't even sure what to feel. Dark might have claimed before he was done with the code, but it seemed that this was not the case. His brother was sharing this information with him and he couldn't even do anything for him.
Dark felt that he could show a weak side to him. So did Chosen, however. Showing vulnerability to someone was something he actively tried to avoid because the world was cruel and would exploit his weaknesses to hurt him. But he didn’t feel like this with Dark. And apparently, neither did Dark with Chosen.
On the opposite side, there was... everything else. His brother was still burdened by the code that told him to kill him, but he actively fought against it daily, for Chosen’s sake.
Dark was not free. Chosen had hoped he would find a way to remove this cursed line from his code, and when he told him he had been successful, he thought they had finally left another piece of their creator behind.
Dark was smart; he could figure it out. But he didn’t. It was all an illusion he swallowed blindly because it’s what he wanted to believe. Dark was not free, and after that night, after that confession, Chosen didn’t know if he’d ever be.
He leaned to him, tightly enveloping his shoulders in a hug. The red stick perked his head up to look at him.
“Sorry,” Chosen whispered.
His brother was going through all this, but he thought they were free only because he was, how selfish.
Dark tilted his head. “Why are you sorry? I’m sorry.”
He gave him false hope and now he’s dumping his problems on him, how pathetic.
They stared at each other for some moments without speaking more words, then shared a synchronized sigh.
“I hate this,” Dark grumbled. “You caused this.”
Chosen removed the blaming finger from his chest with a small smile. “I wasn't the one who came to your room tonight.”
“I wasn't the one who was screaming in his sleep tonight,” the younger stick counterattacked, hands on his hips.
Chosen opened his mouth to speak, then looked away. Dark bit his lip. Was this too far?
“Hey,” he started softly, putting a hand on his shoulder, “I don't actually blame you.”
He blamed him, Noogai, or whatever his real name was. He was the only one responsible for everything that had happened to them. Chosen hasn't slept a single night and when he does, this is what happens. He himself hasn't had a day in his life where he didn't want to crush his head against a wall. All of it, because of him and the little games he wanted to play with their lives.
He clenched the fist of his free hand. Someday he'd show him. Someday, he'd make him wish they had just destroyed his precious computer. He had to find a way. No, he would find a way. He’d teach him and all humans a well-deserved lesson. Then, he could maybe see Chosen sleeping peacefully for once.
“You should go to sleep,” Chosen's tired voice said.
Dark looked at his exhausted eyes and something clenched inside him, while something else started to feel increasingly pressuring. Go to sleep? After this? Sure he would.
“Yeah, I don't think I'll be able to sleep any more.”
Chosen nodded slowly in understanding, “Me neither.” He fidgeted with his thumbs, eyes flickering between Dark and the door of his room across from them. “I think I'll go outside,” he said, rising to his feet. Then he paused for a second, looking back at the younger’s eyes. “Want to come?”
Dark raised his gaze to meet Chosen’s. Usually, he’d say this is too boring for him or even tease Chosen for this hobby of his. This was not one of those times. “Yeah sure. Where to?”
“There is a clearing around a mile into the forest. It's the best place to see the stars.” The black stick looked upwards dreamily, putting on a smile.
Dark chuckled with his detached look and placed an arm around his shoulders, slightly startling the elder. “Lead the way, captain!”
Chosen shook his head, still smiling, as he grabbed the younger one’s arm and they both ran outside.