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Heart isn’t allowed in the kitchen when he’s small– at least, not by himself.
In spite of this rule, he sits on the countertop, swinging his feet as he reaches for the knife block. A soft hum escapes him as he levels the knife against his arm and–
“[Heart. Put it down. Now,]” Mind’s voice is stern, it sounds like it’s coming from the doorway. Great. Of course he walks in on Heart before he can even begin. Oh well. With a slight grin, Heart swipes the blade across his skin. His breath hitches as the pain blooms, warmth spreading across his arm. “[Juno]”– Mind cuts himself off before he can say anything else, instead choosing to stomp across the room. Just to spite him, Heart quickly gives his arm a few more swipes of the knife, grin widening at the stinging pain.
Before he can swipe at his arm yet again, a metal hand wraps around his wrist to lock his arm in place. Thrashing around, Heart struggles to free himself from Mind’s grasp. He’s horrible, he’s mean, he doesn’t understand! Heart needs this, he needs it, he needs the pain, he needs to know it’s there, that comforting sting is all he has, they have no right to take this from him, he can look after himself, he’s choosing to do this– why won’t they understand and just let him do what he wants.
With the hand not currently trapped in Mind’s iron grip, Heart flails around, trying to hit Mind so he’ll let go. His fist collides with Mind a few times, but it doesn’t seem to do much to help. It isn’t long before Mind is holding his other wrist too, keeping him firmly locked in place.
Through it all, Heart keeps his grip on the knife. He isn’t giving it up, he can’t. He needs it.
“[Juno, please, drop the knife. I just want to help,]” Mind’s voice is notably softer now he’s got Heart trapped in his grasp. He leans forward, resting his forehead against Heart’s, and he stays like that. Heart can feel Mind’s breath against his face.
Forced to remain still, the cuts in Heart’s arm make themselves known with a throbbing pain. He can’t help the way he leans slightly into Mind, face screwing up as he tries to avoid showing the pain. It’s too late, as Mind tuts pityingly, letting go of one of Heart’s wrists so he can take the knife from his grasp. Heart vaguely registers the metal clinking as Mind sets it down, but it’s getting harder to care. His arm hurts.
Mind finally lets go of his other wrist, instead carefully wrapping his arms around Heart and picking him up. Burying his face into the crook of Mind’s neck, he just barely makes out Mind saying, “[Alright, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?]”
It doesn’t take long for Mind to carry him to the bathroom and clean him up– he’s had plenty of practice by now, after all. Once he’s done, Heart is left with a dull stinging in his arm along with the almost comforting hug of bandages wrapped around him. Mind carries him once again, placing him somewhere soft – everything feels too hazy to figure out where, exactly, he is – and turning on some music, something gentle that only makes the hazy feeling in his head become even stronger. He hears Mind sigh, before taking one of Heart’s hands in his. Mind doesn’t say a word as he gently rubs Heart’s knuckles.
There’s nothing to say; Heart has heard it all before, and he’s sure he’ll hear it again. But at least Mind still cares enough for this.