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Sol couldn’t sleep.
He laid in the hotel bed next to his brother, under the blankets.
He couldn’t sleep. The voices were keeping him up.
He’d been hearing voices that weren’t there, seeing things that no one else saw…he didn’t know why. Usually he was able to pick apart and analyze and find a logical explanation as to why things were the way they were. But not this.
The only explanation he could think of was that he was going crazy. He had to be. But that didn’t feel right either.
The voices were the reason he’d started doing things to himself…harmful things…harmful things that no one else knew about.
He couldn’t sleep. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t.
Why had Nix dragged him and Lune onto this trip, even with the various attractions this place had? Even if it wasn’t that far from Tycho, their home?
He glanced at his brother again, who was sleeping peacefully beside him.
They didn’t deserve someone as pathetic as him. Someone who was as unstable as he was. Someone who was as arrogant and self-centered as he was. He was the reason he and Lune fought so much. He had to be.
Should he do it? Should he?
He made up his mind.
Slowly, he wriggled out of Lune’s grasp, making sure to be as quiet as he could.
As he walked to the kitchen, he saw something he could use:
A knife. Various knives, actually.
Perfect.
He selected the largest one out of them, then headed off to the bathroom, closing the door and turning the light on. He sat against the wall, rolling up one of the sleeves of his bedtime robe.
For a moment, he stared at the scars on his mechanical arms, from past spirals he’d had.
He hesitated.
What was he doing? He didn’t have the time to mope about all of this.
Another part of him was telling him to end it all, right here, right now. Run up to the roof and jump off of it. Oh, how the beautiful, clean streets would be covered with the blue blood of his. His feet would crush against the ground, he would’ve felt so much painful freedom right at that very moment. Or maybe he could slice his throat with the knife and choke to death.
He could do it.
He should do it.
But he didn’t. He didn’t want to. Something was holding him back.
What was it? What was he afraid of?
Was it fear? Spite? Anxiety? He didn’t know.
He pushed that thought aside.
Tears were streaming down his metal cheeks as the voices grew louder, egging him on and berating him.
You’re worthless.
You’re a burden to Whole.
They’d be better off without you.
You’ll always be nothing but an automaton freak.
You deserve to suffer.
So suffer he would.
With a sob, and a quick, sharp motion, he sliced his arm. It hurt so, so, so much, but it was somehow easier to bear than the hollow one inside of him.
Blue blood began to slowly ooze out of the wound. Not good enough. He needed more.
He sliced his arm again. More blood. He needed more blood. He needed more pain.
He was actively bawling as he cut his arm more and more, tears mixing with his blood.
Why won’t they stop WHY WON’T THE VOICES STOP they don’t deserve someone like me what is wrong with me I’m so sorry-
And then, a voice from outside:
“(Sol?)” said Lune, his voice soft yet concerned.
The Sun stopped immediately, dropping the knife.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. How could he have been so stupid? He should’ve locked the door. He shouldn’t have been crying so loud.
“[I’m fine.]” he said, his voice raspy from crying.
“(Liar. You’re crying. I can hear it.)” The Moon said from outside.
“[I’m fine, Lune, I’m just-]”
The door opened anyway, and Hathor’s face dropped.
“(Oh god…Sol, I…what did you do?)” they stammered, horrified.
“[I’M SORRY!]” Apollo shouted, tears streaming down his face again. “[I’m so sorry! I-]”
Artemis bent down and started trying to pry the blue-stained knife from him.
“[GIVE THAT BACK!]” he shouted.
Hathor winced at the noise, and his wings puffed up as they tore the knife out of his hands.
“{Ugh…what’s going-SOL!}”
A pair of arms and warm wings wrapped around him, and he lurched forward into the embrace with an unrestrained sob, his thoughts too jumbled and messed up to care about how pathetic and undignified he looked.
Before he knew it, he was crying in Atlas’ arms, face buried in his chest. He…was still shocked any of this was even happening, but through the hysteria, Nix’s voice had finally reached him.
“{Shhh, let it out. You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine…}”
Apollo let out an even louder sob at the gentleness of The Stars’ voice.
They remained like that for a while, Nix’s arms and wings wrapped around him, as Sol continued to cry. Lune had his feathery tail intertwined with his. It seemed like the automaton was an endless well of tears. Every sob was deep and heaving, every gasp for air racked his lungs, and he was so, so ready to give up in Ra’s warm embrace.
Nearly 10 minutes had ticked on before Sol’s sobs slowly began to die down, and he could finally process what was happening around him. The Stars let go of him, and he let out a shaky sigh.
“[I-I’m sorry…]” he whispered. His voice was raspy, as if he’d managed to cry his throat raw. “[I didn’t…I didn’t know what else to do, I…the voices wouldn’t stop, I just…fell apart…]”
“{It’s alright, mate.}” Nix said, putting his wing around him again. “{It was intrusive.}”
Sol sniffled, trying to wipe his face with his other sleeve.
Then he glanced back down at his other arm.
It was covered with blue blood, and various slits had been cut into it, all bleeding profusely.
“{Lune, you can go. I’ll need to clean him up first.}”
The Moon nodded and went back into the bedroom as Nix turned the faucet of the bathtub on.
“{Here, mate, put it under that, I’m gonna clean your arm first before I disinfect and wrap it up.}”
The automaton did as he was told and put his bleeding arm under the faucet, whimpering as he felt cold water running over it and into his wounds. He watched as Nix grabbed a bar of soap and began to gently wash his arm.
It was silent. The only sound being the running water and the faint sound of scrubbing. His arm was eventually rinsed off and patted dry with a towel before he was given the ok to sit back down.
“{You ok now?}” Atlas asked as he grabbed a first aid kit from under the sink.
Apollo didn’t say anything. What was there to say?
“[Nix?]”
“{Yeah?}”
“[Do you think I’m…schizophrenic?]”
Ra seemed to think about that as he pulled out rubbing alcohol, a rag, and gauze bandages from the kit. “{I mean, you seem to be. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, obviously, it just means your brain acts a little different than most.}”
“[I know, but…I’m an automaton. I don’t think automatons usually have schizophrenia.]”
The Stars shrugged. “{Hey, none of us are really human anyway, and maybe it’s different for an automaton than it is for a human. Either way, I’m sure we’ll find a way to help you as much as we can. Now, hold still. This might sting.}”
The rag was pressed to one of the slits, making him hiss in pain. As Atlas slowly moved down the cut, Thoth yelped “[STOP!]”
Nix pulled the rag away, his raven wing puffing up with concern.
“[I’m fine.]” Sol said. “[You must’ve reached a deeper part of the cut.]”
Suddenly, The Sun felt his head being pulled into The Stars’ lap. “{There. That way, you won’t focus too much on your arm.}”
Ra continued to clean and disinfect his arm, before eventually wrapping it in the gauze bandages.
“{There we go, all better.}” he said as he finished.
“[Sorry about all of this…]” the automaton said again, his power cord tail swishing.
“{It’s fine, mate. You don’t have to be sorry.}”
The two sat there for a moment before Nix slowly picked him up, gently holding him.
“{Let’s get you to bed. You must be tired, Apollo. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, remember?}”
Sol nodded and let out a yawn as he was carried back to the bedroom and placed onto the hotel bed alongside Lune, who was peacefully asleep, just as before.
As he got back under the blankets, The Moon snuggled up to him, purring softly, and it wasn’t long before The Sun had fallen asleep as well, a small smile replacing the pained expression from the previous moments.
Nix watched the two fall asleep, a sense of relief washing over him.
He still couldn’t believe the fact that Apollo had tried to cut himself so much just an hour ago. He made sure to mentally note to keep an eye on him for at least a few weeks, and to put away all the sharp objects the automaton could have access to, just in case he spiraled and tried to do it again.
Not only that, but he was glad to see Lune putting their emotions and differences aside for the other, considering how they usually fought. It gave him hope that this trip might be a good bonding experience for them.
He got up and watched them for a moment before giving them each a kiss on the forehead. He hoped to Harmonia to give them a peaceful sleep, one without interruptions or bad thoughts.
“{G’night, my Sun and Moon.}” he whispered. “{Sweet dreams.}”