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all my aching bones are trembling, and i may yet fall apart

Summary:

infected is tired of being out of the loop. unfortunately for him, so is his new friend.
(title lyrics from curses by the crane wives)

Notes:

i think infected is an especially tragic character that doesn't get the consideration he deserves. so i made an ocxcanon about it :)
this is a small slice of a greater story i have planned out. all you really need to know for this fic is that Soot works at Toolbox Thrift, and it uses the Regretevator to travel for work.

Also, Soot uses it/its only.

thanks to penumbralwoods for beta reading this fic, along with all my other fics. if you're seeing this it's because glitch encouraged me!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Original Version

Chapter Text

Soot didn’t want to pry. It really didn’t.

But Infected didn’t make it easy.

The way he shambled like a fucking zombie, always seeming one light breeze away from passing out. His voice that gave the impression of an Xbox360 headset. That expression, the way he simultaneously looked like he wasn’t in the room and staring right at it.

And now, the way that he’s doubled over in the elevator, coughing violently. The walls flicker pink and black in perfectly square patches. For a moment, Soot wonders if it’s going to need to call an ambulance.

Hot pink blood drips onto the floor, and it decides it’s time to stop being polite.

“Woah, hey…” It puts a hand on his back, testing the waters. He flinches, badly, but there’s no objection. “Try to breathe through your nose. I’ll get you something to drink.”

Instead of responding, Infected gives a shaky thumbs up. Seems like even his denial has its limits.

Digging through its bag with one hand isn’t easy, but Soot makes it work. Band-aids, charger, hand sanitizer, pack of tissues… a small plastic water bottle. Good enough, considering that the alternative is… Fizz Up. Or what, Grey Stuff? Eugh.

“1t’5 n0t 4 b1g d34l, bR0! u d0n’T h4v3 2-”

“Shush. Focus on breathing.”

For once, he doesn’t argue; just rolls his eyes and makes a show of breathing through his nose. It might be more cutting if he didn’t shudder like the action was painful.

The elevator doors open, and Soot only glances outside to make sure it’s nothing dangerous. Just the racetrack it doesn’t care to know the name of. It doesn’t know what it would do if someone tried to board right now.

When it hands off the water, Infected takes a sip, then starts chugging. Seconds pass in silence, and the bottle crinkles obnoxiously once he finishes it off.

Once again, its mind drifts towards his health. He insisted that his symptoms were just a simple cold, and it was easy to believe. Coughing, sniffling; even the nosebleeds didn’t seem too serious. The first few times, anyway.

Maybe it was just easier to brush off when he clearly wanted it to. When he, and everyone else, seemed to turn away from the pink and black textures that seemed to ooze into the elevator.

It didn’t want to think about it. About where this came from. About how that ooze lingered on its skin, and on the walls. It enjoyed Infected’s company, and admitting that sometimes his touch makes it feel contaminated felt like an insult. It wasn’t great at this, but it wasn’t an asshole.

“4m 1 tH4t pR3ttY?”

It’s been staring.

To Soot’s credit, it recovers quickly. “Shut up. How’re you feeling?”

“L1K3 4 b0s5!! tHx 4 t3h 4ss15t.”

The wall flickers pink behind him.

It has a choice to make here.

It can brush this off, move on, and try to enjoy the rest of its time with Infected. Letting the moment pass would be as easy as staying silent. Letting him believe that it’s buying this. His health wasn’t its business, it had only known him for… what, a month? He had other friends, people who could help him more than it ever could.

Maybe it hadn’t actually seen any evidence of that. Maybe it had seen the way others looked at him. Maybe it had a gut feeling that if it didn’t confront him about this, no one else would. But what did it know?

In the end, it isn’t a very difficult decision.

“Right. Listen, do you… are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”

It expects him to freeze, or look away; something. Instead, he just stares. The elevator doors finally slide shut, and it feels the room slip back into the void between floors.

It’s not a long pause, just enough for music to crackle to life from the speakers in the ceiling. But it’s enough.

“y34, dUh! 1’m sUp3r h34ltHy. u s0uNd l1k3 R3tR0, br4h.” He smiles, without moving the rest of his face.

Ok, that’s not a great start. It wrings its hands together, trying to think of something to say.

“No, seriously. I know the Regretevator’s got weird properties, but you’ve been like… this, since we met. If something is, y’know, bothering you-”

“n0p3! 4ll g00d.” His usual swaying back and forth has been replaced by stillness, so rigid someone could mistake him for a statue.

He’s lying. He has to be. Does he think it’s stupid? Like if he stares long enough, it’ll lose its nerve?

“Infected, come on. I know you’re not oblivious to-”

“5hUt uP.”

Soot stops, finally making eye contact. This is the most it’s seen him focused on something… maybe ever.

“What?”

He unclenches his fist- when did that happen?- and crosses his arms. It looks more like he’s holding himself than anything. “d0 y0u th1nK y0u’R3 th3 f1r5t t0 l3ctUr3 m3 4b0uT th15 sh1t? l1k3 1 d0n’t s33 h0w 3v3ry0n3 l00k5 4t m3? l1k3 1’m 4 fUcK1n’ 1d10t?!”

It doesn’t respond. It can’t. It can’t do anything but stare at him with wide eyes, like a dumbass.

“1 d0n’t kn0w wh4t 4nY 0f y0u 4r3 t4lk1nG 4b0uT! 1 d0n’t kn0w wh4t’5 wr0nG, 0r wHy n0 0n3 c4r35 t0 3nl1ghT3n m3!” His right hand raises to rest against his cheek as he frowns exaggeratedly.

“g33z, 1nf3ct3d, wHy d0 y0u l00k l1k3 th4t? 1nf3ct3d, c4n y0u qu1t br34th1nG 1n mY d1r3ct10n? K45p3r,” Tears fall from his eyes. “wh3n 4r3 y0u g01nG t0 qu1t b31nG 5uch a d15gU5t1nG fr34k?”

“Infected-”

“1 d0n’T kn0w! 1 d0n’t fUcK1nG kn0w! s0 s0rRy 4b0uT y0ur fr13nD, dUd3, 1’ll b3 5uR3 t0 k33p 4n ey3 0uT f0r th1s B3TT3R V3RS10N 0F M3!!

With that, he buries his face in his hands, and his voice dissolves into quiet static. It takes Soot a moment to realize it’s because he’s sobbing.

It fucked up. It didn’t think- Why would-

It didn’t know.

The elevator is quiet again. Wherever it wants to go, it’s taking its time. Maybe that’s a good thing; it can’t imagine someone walking in right now.

Its first instinct is to get angry. If this was enough to make him lash out- really, genuinely upset him- how long had he been dealing with whatever was happening here?

How was it supposed to even begin to help?

Of course, it can’t focus on that. Infected is sitting with his knees held against his chest, letting out muffled bursts of static. Getting mad at people who aren’t here won’t help him right now.

Soot glances at the doors one last time, and slides down the wall next to its friend.

“...I’m sorry.” A deliberate pause, in case its words aren’t helping. It can only hope he’ll speak up for himself if necessary. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I shouldn’t- it was wrong of me to, uh, assume.” It starts tapping its fingers in time to the elevator music, because there’s nothing else it can do.

“If you want, I can leave. I’m just, like- worried about you.”

He stiffens, and for a moment it’s certain it fucked up again.

Before it can backpedal, though, he raises his head to make uncomfortably intense eye contact. It’s not one to exaggerate, or wax poetry about someone’s expression; but when it says it can see his eyes flicker, it means it.

“n4h, 1t’5 f1n3. l3t’5 ju5t f0rg3t 4bT th15, y34h?”

His voice is perfectly even. You wouldn’t even be able to tell he had been sobbing. Soot isn’t buying it for a second.

“Yeah, sure. But when you’re up for it, we’re having a talk about self care.” And everything else, it wants to say, but there’s no way in Hell he was ready for that.

For now, its priority is cheering him up. It can figure out who the fuck Kasper is later.

And once it figures out what’s going on, it’ll find a way to fix this.