Chapter Text
“You’re a bitch,” Blurry hissed breathlessly at Spooky as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose.
Spooky was too busy on the floor, holding his aching head as he sat on the cold, icy ground. Tears streamed from his eyes as he sniffed up the blood coming from his own nose. He coughed, the blood going down his throat–making it raw from the inside.
He hated these petty fights… only because Blurry couldn’t control himself. Only because Blurry was irrational. Only because Blurry was… Blurry.
Blurry spat out a clot of blood that formed in his mouth, the ice breaking from underneath the force of his boots striking the ground with each step, each pace. Spooky watched his figure, even in the darkness, the glowing ruby eyes gave him away. Spooky could see how dilated Blurry’s eyes were, how they avoided him. Everything else seemed so much more interesting than the friend he just beat to the ground.
Spooky didn’t even dare lift himself from his spot out of fear that Blurry would knock him back down. His legs felt wobbly anyways, he would topple over again by his own weight if he tried to stand.
Blurry looked down at his bloody knuckles, a combination of his own wounds and Spooky’s blood. They were sore, and blood was smeared all across his forearm.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Blurry finally said again, his voice rasping as it echoed across the halls of the building. Their building. It was only them.
“Just for you to yell at me again? I don’t think so.” Spooky managed to squeak out, but his voice was rough itself and a sob broke through him. Blurry had to scoff.
“Pathetic.”
“Pathetic after you just beat my ass?” Spooky snapped back, turning himself onto his side so he could stand.
“Yes, pathetic because you didn’t even fight back.”
Spooky couldn’t even respond, just wiping his eyes and sniffling. As soon as he got up onto his feet, he felt nauseous, and dizzy, and wanted to just sit back down–but he didn’t want Blurry to win another fight.
“Maybe I would’ve if you hadn’t held me down and punched my jaw in.”
Spooky wanted to yell and scream, he wanted to be so much more enraged. But, he couldn’t bring himself to be with Blurry. For some reason, there was a part of him that wanted to feel sympathy, only because Blurry hadn’t gotten that with anyone else.
For good reason.
He looked around the surroundings, trying to wipe away the last of the blood from his face. Spooky could feel the warmth contrasting with the cold temperature, and it made him sick that the fluid had actually come from him and Blurry had caused it. Though, he should’ve been used to this by now, right? All he ever was; Blurry’s punching bag.
And all he had wanted to do was spray paint the walls. It had led to this, all from a disagreement.
Blurry watched Spooky stumbling around, rolling his eyes as he walked over. He took Spooky’s arm with his hand–the darkly painted hand that never seemed clean from sinful intent… from guilt. He knew Blurry always beat himself up over it whenever he left, because he knew the next day he’ll have bruises, and marks, all from himself.
Blurry’s attempt to stabilize Spooky didn’t quite work, because it made Spooky wobble more. Spooky’s knees buckled underneath his own weight, begging for rest–and the attempts Spooky was making to push Blurry away didn’t seem to be working too well. It was like shoving a brick wall.
“Stop squirming, I’m trying to help.” Blurry yelled at Spooky, his fingers tightening around Spooky’s already tense arm.
“Help by hurting me more,” Spooky cried out, “Let go of me.”
Spooky then collapsed to the ground with a sob. Blurry had just let go, mumbling to himself; hitting himself in the head a few times.
This time, Spooky just stayed there. “Why do you do this?” He asked, speaking into the ground to almost make it impossible to hear him. Spooky was in between making more conversation and just giving up on saying any kind of words.
“Do what? Try and help? Try to be a good person?”
“That’s a joke, right?” Spooky sniffed, lifting his head up to Blurry. He looked, or tried to look, into Blurry’s dead eyes. It was like, even after all the caring Spooky had ever done, Blurry couldn’t even fake it once.
Blurry shook his head and turned away from Spooky’s eyes. A deep part of him told time that he was a horrible person–each thought that was spat out at him cracking whatever good parts were left inside his already broken heart. He hated how shattered he was with no one to pick up the pieces, not even himself.
Spooky watched Blurry turn away, and that’s when he took the opportunity to stand again. It was almost like every time he tried to stand he’d fall– surely unpredictable.
Blurry’s coldness wasn’t new, but it definitely wasn’t nice to feel. It’s all Spooky ever got, and he hated it. He hated how Blurry would ignore him, how angry he’d get, how terrifying he’d look when his arm went back and wound up a punch. He hated how scared he was of Blurry, because he didn’t want to be scared of Blurry. Spooky wanted to help so bad.
He wanted to do some good and be a good person for Blurry.
Spooky watched as Blurry shook, most likely because of the cold. Every shiver made his heart drop further into his stomach; making it ache and burn. Spooky forced himself to take a few steps forward, the ice not cracking underneath his own shoes the way it had done for Blurry.
He reached a hand out, his hand going and gently resting upon Blurry’s shoulder. He felt how tense the muscle was, even far underneath Blurry’s jacket.
Spooky hadn’t even expected the slap until he staggered a bit on the ice.
It hadn’t been a hit to the face, but to the hand it had been. The area on his hand immediately burned up, the cold not helping. Spooky held his hand, feeling like that had been completely his fault. Like he had snuck up on Blurry… but he really hadn’t. But he knew how Blurry was sometimes when he touched him… maybe it had been his fault. His chest hurt, and his throat felt tight as he kept a big gap between them this time.
He looked down, seeing the small black marking Blurry had left before promptly rubbing it off.
“Thanks.” Spooky murmured, keeping down another cry. He was already on the losing team, why was he even holding it in anymore?
He walked over to a wall and slid down to the ground. He should’ve just waited it out… should have just done what he’s been forced to do for so long: staying quiet and not making a move. Spooky shook himself now, but from pure anxiousness. It felt like if he did anymore with Blurry, his heart would explode and he’d be forced to jump off a roof to get it to stop.
All he could do was sit on the ground and watch as Blurry paced and paced and wore himself out and made him drive them home–or until he had to force the keys out of Blurry’s hands.
Spooky could barely keep himself awake. He hoped Blurry gave him a concussion so there was just a chance he wouldn’t have to wake up to this again. But Blurry needed him. Blurry’s self-destructive tendencies were terrible, he couldn’t deal with them on his own. He needed Spooky to help him, to wake up and help.
None of it was fair. Spooky never got anything out of the help he was giving. No comfort, no love . Hell, he hadn’t felt that with Blurry for a long time.
So why did he stay?
Simply because he was too attached to leave. The thought of someone wanting and needing him, whether for the worst or not, made him feel so special. He couldn’t just up and leave Blurry, Blurry needed him so they could play video games and he would have someone to talk to. Blurry needed him so he had someone to talk to about his music and his songs.
Spooky wanted to believe so bad that there was a someone underneath all of that fucking angst Blurry hid behind. He knew it existed, because that was originally the person Spooky had even wanted. And that’s why he was here; sitting on the cold ground covered in his own blood, because the person underneath was worth it. He just wished he knew how to fight for him back.
He didn’t even realize how long he had been sitting there by himself before Blurry started nudging him with the tip of his foot.
Spooky snapped out of it, his eyes unblurring as they trailed up towards Blurry.
Blurry sniffed, wiping his nose of blood.
“Can we go home now?”