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You walk past Ampora's block pretty much every day on the meteor to get to yours at bedtime. Mostly you think nothing of it, why would you? Sure, the guy's annoying, but it's not like his room is infected or something. It had been the least pressing matter on your mind for 99% of your trip, until of course, fate decided to fuck you in the ass.
When you passed his door again, muffled hurt sounds came from behind it. Honestly, the first thought you'd had was that some animal had gotten loose from the labs and impaled itself on his shitty wand pile or something. But as you neared the door, nope. That's definitely the sound of someone stifling tears.
You pause for a moment, footsteps sounding out as you step closer. The noise stops abruptly, and you knock. Curiosity killed the meowbeast, you guess.
"Open up. It'th Thollux."
"Wwhat d'you wwant from me!?" came the sound from behind the door.
"I jutht wanna talk, Jeguth," You open the door, not expecting to see the tip of Ahab's Crosshairs pointed at your chest.
"What the fuck!?" You put your hands up, even though you could definitely still use your psiionics like that. "Leave me alone." Eridan hissed. "I don't need you pickin' some fuckin' petty squabble right noww." His tone didn't match his words, all the edge and posturing gone.
"Pointing a gun at me for trying to check up on you? Have you ever conthidered thith ith why people don't like you?" You say almost out of reflex.
He glares harshly. “Did you come here just to insult me? Wwhat a wwonderful fuckin life you must lead, good for you." The wavering of his voice grows more and more apparent, and you're reminded why you came. If Ampora’s losing his shit again, you want to make sure it doesn’t turn lethal.
A moment of hesitation crosses you before you make up your mind.
"I'm coming in."
A quick assessment of character tells you he’s probably bluffing, he’s on his last strike after what happened in the computer lab. Shooting you would only provoke the others, and 11v1 is practically suicide.
Moving slowly, you lower the gun trained on you. Eridan hisses, but he doesn't move to stop you or pull the trigger. That’s all that matters right now.
You nudge the door open further, getting a look at him fully. You're stunned for a moment by how... Different he seems.
He looks nothing like himself, wearing plain clothes and messy hair. He dons an oversized black hoodie without a sign like he's too ashamed to even wear that. His eyes are weary and sleep deprived, heavy bags painted darkly under them contrasting his pale skin. You guess it's been a while since you two ever crossed paths, but damn.
"Wwhat is your problem?" He backs away from the door and you let yourself in. He sounds panicked, eyes wide and trembling. It’s actually concerning.
"I dunno. Something jutht theemed wrong." The room is dark, but not enough to obscure your vision. It's messy and undecorated, items strewn around like they were taken down in a fit of rage. You hesitate before biting the bullet.
“It thounded like you were crying.” You try to stay nonchalant, but he narrows his eyes and scoffs at you anyway.
“Seadwwellers don't cry.”
“Factually incorrect. You have functioning tear ductth like the retht of uth, your majethty.” You try to tamp down the annoyance building up already. Seriously, what is this guy’s problem? You're trying to help him. Or mostly trying to stop him from deciding to go on a killing spree. Either way, you're trying to help.
“God, stop talkin’, your fuckin’ lisp is givin’ me a headache,” The way he says it, it actually sounds true.
“Will you jutht be fucking honetht with me for a thecond. I’m trying to be nice to you.”
His arms cross over his chest defensively, dropping the dumb blue rifle on the floor. He directs his eyes to the ground above it before opening his mouth again.
“Wwhy do you care? Wwhy should fuckin’ anybody? I’m the worst scumbag anybody could fuckin offer.”
“God, you're tho dramatic,” You step closer to his disheveled form. He flinches back almost imperceptibly. “Why does it matter?”
He’s facing away from you now, hiding his face and backing into the corner that’s dotted with discarded luxury pillows laying randomly on the floor.
“Because you're goin’ to try an’ hurt me.”
“What?” You're completely dumbfounded. He’s the one who almost shot you.
“You're goin to hurt me, an’ i knoww it, cause that's all anybody ever wants to do an’ I’m tired Sol, I’m so fuckin tired. I just- I just wwant ewerythin’ to go awway. Please, go away. Please.”
He’s gasping between words, hitching and panicky and barely comprehensible. He breathes in double time like the air is drowning him. It sounds so fucking sincere, it makes you seriously worry. Who else has he had to talk to all this time? Feferi still won't talk to him after the fight. Karkat says he’s done giving advice to someone who won't listen. The rest of the meteor just wants to stay out of trouble.
“ED…” You've never been good with words. Your hand reaches out to him, but you’re standing too far away. You're about to step closer when-
“No, stop, Sol, STOP IT. Stop pretendin’ you ewer gawe a shit about me when all i did was get in your fuckin’ way! You can't stand me. I’m dangerous, I’m annoying, I’m too much. I don't knoww wwhy I’m ewen…” His voice finally breaks off into a sob.
“I don't knoww wwhy im ewen still alive.” He says, and it’s so earnest it makes your heart hurt. Stepping towards him, you put a hand on his shoulder and gently turn him to face you. Head lowered, his face is obscured by unruly locks of hair, but you can tell from his breath he’s crying. “Eridan…” You start again, but nothing comes. A moment passes and you watch him falling apart in front of you, settling on the most simple course of action. Wrapping your arms around his frame, you mutter;
“It’th ok.”
He fights you at first, but then he just kind of... gives up. He goes limp in your arms, sobbing his heart out. Its a shaky, quiet sound, like he'll get in trouble for it if he's caught. You feel his pulse racing against your chest, the way he's shaking so hard his teeth chatter, and it's only then you realize he's scared shitless of you right now. Why should he be? Does he think you're actually going to kill him? You'd be insulted if he wasn't having a full blown breakdown.
You run a hand through his unstyled hair, cradling his head to your chest as you start to hum some video game OST you've played recently. It doesn't stop him crying, but he seems less on edge, his body relaxed and leaning more into you.
A sinking feeling settles in your stomach, scratching at you as you listen to him cry. Something makes you feel guilty for the way Eridan is now, practically a shell of his former self. It's not like it's your fault he was going to get you all killed, you don't regret blasting him to next Wednesday in the slightest. He was physically strong enough to take it, he's a seadweller anyway. You just didn't expect it would make him crumble like this. God, you wish everything would just stop. You aren't prepared for any of this.
Glancing around, you use your psiionics to pile the strewn pillows and other miscellaneous soft things on the ground into a makeshift pile. That was your first mistake. He startles immediately at the red and blue flashes, which you should have expected. He makes an odd sort of gasp inwards, bucking his head and almost skewering your face with a horn. Instead of shoving you away, though, he clings to you like a grub clinging to its lusus. His eyes are wide and unseeing, and for a moment he reminds you of a deer staring down its death. Pitching higher from the fear, his sobs border hysterical.
"Thhhh, hey, ith okay. I've got you," You whisper, trying to keep your own shit together. Sure, your psiionics can beat him in a fight any day, but he's still an apex fucking predator. You feared he was going to kill someone if he ever lost his shit, but right now he doesn't seem to be doubling down on the 'rip and tear' part of his basal instincts. Right now he just seems scared. Scared and lonely and desperately clinging to you like you'll be the one to save him from it all. It makes your heart hurt.
"C'mere, i'm not gonna hurt you." You guide him down to the floor, one hand around his waist to steady him. "That'th it, you're ok. Good." It feels like trying to calm a tiger.
You end up in a kind of awkwardly pale position, him laying on your chest, head against your heart, and you holding him with one hand on his back and the other in his hair. Whatever, it’s not like anyone’s going to see you like this. Eridan needs someone, and you’re just the sorry sucker who knocked on the door first. Right?
It takes a little for you to realize he's been trying to say something, barely legible through the tears. "Huh?"
“W-w-why... wwhy are you doin’ this?" Seconds pass before you respond.
“Becauthe i want to help you.”
It’s true. You don't want him to end up the way he was at the incident, and you definitely don't want him to wither away and die like he seems to be adament on doing now. It’s just, basic decency, you know? There isn’t some terrible curse upon him that makes him unworthy of just treatment. You want to see him live a normal life, just like everybody else should when you get out of this damn game. Nothing special about it.
“You shouldn't. I’m awwful to you. A horrible, terrible, useless excuse of a troll. You should just fuckin’ kill me wwhile you’ve got the chance.” He mumbles into your shirt. He’s calming down, slowly but surely, but he still shakes like a leaf in your arms.
“I don’t want you dead, Jeguth. Could you accept that maybe I jutht care about you?” You pause. It sounds weird saying it out loud.
“You're just sayin’ that.”
“Eridan.” Using his full name gets his attention. “You don’t have to punithh yourthelf for jutht fucking exithting. You’re driving yourthelf crazy itholating like thith.” A repressed anger starts to rise up in you as you speak. The way he seems so checked out, like he’s given up on living entirely, just frustrates you so deeply. You want him to change, want him to go better himself as a person and stop feeling so fucking sorry for himself for once. You realize you feel a lot more passionately about this than you thought you did.
“Thtop doing thith to yourthelf, ED. Pleathe.” You squeeze him a little tighter. Silence falls over the two of you for a while, laying together in the darkness of his block. The weight of his body on top of yours. This could be nice, you think, if Eridan wasn’t teetering on the edge of another breakdown.
“I just…” He starts, but trails off. “I’m just so fuckin’ lonely.”
“I’ll thtay with you.” You expect another rejection or retaliation, but all he does is look up at you with sad, dark eyes. “Really?” He sniffles.
“Really. Promithe.”
“But you hate me. An’ not in a quadrants way, real true fuckin’ destain.”
“I don’t hate you, ED,” You start to think. You really don’t, at least not in the way he’s talking about. Sometimes you feel like you do. When he talks about himself like he’s the worst person in the universe, when he ignores the people he begs for company because he ‘doesn't deserve it’, when he tries to get you to fight him knowing he’ll always lose. That’s the part of Eridan Ampora that you hate.
But the other part, the part that’s cradled in your arms right now…
Your hand runs circles across his back. “I like you. I want you to get better. And I want to be the one to help you get there.”
A beat passes.
“Oh.” Is all he says.
You can see the gears turning in his head, and you wonder briefly what it’s like in his mind. Sad, probably. Untensing his body slowly, he melts into your arms. Whatever message he took from that, you guess it was a positive one. You begin to hum idly again, stroking his hair. His breathing starts to settle and your mind drifts.
It’s comfortable like this, and you're so perpetually tired and aching. The coolness of his skin is nice against your warmblooded self, and the feel of pressure on you is comforting. You don't really get much physical contact usually. Feferi used to jump on you a lot, but she was so excitable and public and it was all too overwhelming for you. This is different.
You don’t notice ED’s fallen asleep until he starts purring. It’s scratchy and weak, like it hasn’t been used in a long, long time. For some reason, your brain lights up like a grub on 12th perigree’s day at the fact you were the one to get him to purr. It makes you feel all buzzy inside, and you’ve got no fucking clue what to make of it.
It's a nice feeling, and you want to stay like this. You'd feel like an asshole waking him up anyway, he looks like he barely ever sleeps.
You feel accomplished, like you've just beaten a super difficult level. ED was crying, and now he's purring in your arms. Why does it feel so nice to think about that? It's surprising going back through your thoughts and realizing how much you care. How much you want to see him happy. You're definitely going to have to unpack all this later. But for right now, you just snuggle him closer and drift off to sleep yourself.