Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He didn’t understand. This must just be the Specter messing him, he’s just been here way too long. He watched himself in the bathroom mirror, fresh out of the shower and back in his normal clothes. He had been scrubbing at his arms, trying to erase the flashes of blood running up them. Shedletsky knew there was nothing there, but each and every round, he felt the blood of his fellow survivors dripping down his hands after his failed attempts at revival.

Every time he saw someone go down, he panicked. He knew he could have saved them, but he just wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t strong enough. He fails, every single time.

And there it was; there he was. It was him staring back, but not him.

“What! What do you want?!” Shedletsky yelled out, much louder than intended.

“You know why I’m here. You can never get rid of me.” His reflection replied.

“You should be gone, I did everything the book sai-” He started, interrupted by incessant knocking on the bathroom door.

He opened the door, and ended up face to face with Builderman. Okay, maybe not face to face, more like chest to face considering Builderman was shorter than him by a fair amount. 

“Telamon, are you okay? I heard screaming.” Builderman said, beginning to check his arms and face for any sign of injury.

“Don’t-” He began, but paused, and looked toward the door, away from the others' caring eyes. He didn’t deserve care, he was an admin, and could take care of himself. ‘No, that was something Telamon would say’

“I-” He couldn’t figure out how to word his request in a way that wouldn’t make him seem like he's not mentally stable. He can’t end up like the cultist in their eyes, that would be unbecoming. He ran it over in his head multiple times, but decided he just didn’t care. 

Before he could finish his sentence, Builderman reached up and ran his hand across his cheek. Shedletsky flashed back to Roblox HQ, where he was still the massive admin alongside Builderman. They used to be lovers, until he decided love was beneath him, like he was untouchable. He called Builder a liability, and walked away. He didn't know why he did, every part of him screamed to go back to him, he felt like home. But the turmoil of his mind didn’t keep him from walking away from his last real relationship.

He was pulled into the present when Builder started to run his thumb under his eye. He didn’t even realize there were tears falling. The smaller gave a brief smile, hoping to cheer up the taller.

Before even thinking about anything, he spoke. “I love you.” He blinked. He didn’t know why he said that. Builderman froze, hand still on his face.

He flinched back, eyes widening. Builder tried to follow him, maybe to make fun of him, maybe to tell him he’s insane. His back hit the sink as he pushed Builderman away.

“Tela, please.”

“DON’T!” He yelled, before lowering his volume. “Don’t call me that. I’m not him. He’s gone. He’s gone…” He panicked now. The nickname never made him react like that before. His hands shook as he turned towards the mirror, his eyes met the shorters in the reflection as he pleaded with Builder to leave him alone. He looked like he wanted to say something, but ultimately just huffed, and turned away, closing the door behind him.

Why did he say that? He doesn't know what came over him. He was never supposed to say anything about his love for the older. In a way, Shedletsky never did fall out of love with him, he was just too prideful to show it. But now, he doesn’t know what the older person thinks about him. Builder had many other partners, and everytime he saw one exit his office, he was jealous. Not that he would ever admit that, but it pained him to see. He hid it well, acting normal until he got to his room, then he crumbled. He never had another partner, too afraid they would get close and expose him for the fake facade of confidence hiding his scared reality.

His eyes snapped back to the mirror when the lights flickered. There he was again.

“Fuck” He said, glaring at the mirror as if that was enough to make it disappear.

“Well, look what we have here. A little crybaby. Unbecoming of an admin, is it not?” Telemon laughed. His hands clenched at his sides, not wanting to let the other see they had gotten to them. They knew they couldn’t afford to panic again, because that gave the god more leverage.

“No” His back straightened, trying to seem unbothered. “Why are you in my mirror?” He took a deep breath, looking away to calm himself before glancing back.

“What? Can’t check on my other half? You have fallen so low.”

“I don’t need you to remind me. Didn’t you get sealed up by me personally?” He snarkaly replied back, arms crossing in front of him.

“You’re no fun. Can’t a god have a little laugh sometimes? No need for such reminders.” He smirked as he started talking again. “Besides, you think you are confident enough to just be able to lock me up ‘for good’. But no, I am a part of you. Always a part of you. You cannot forget who you are, Shedletsky. You may think you have changed, but you haven’t, not truly. Deep inside you will always end up like me; Again and Again. Look at how you pushed away Builderman, just like I di-” Shedletsky interrupted the rant.

“Stop. I locked you away for a very good reason. You were everything wrong with me; Everything I hated about myself. Way too egotistical for your own good, and you hurt everyone around you. That every late night when I stood in front of the mirror, I contemplated why I made the choices I did. But now that I get to look at my reflection and see you stuck in there, I know I have changed.” He reasoned with himself, He knew he was better, but yet why do those words the other said still sting so badly? Perhaps deep down, he knows it’s not lying.

“Poor Shedletsky. Having a hard time believing in yourself, aren’t you? You can’t even deny it because you know it's true. You act all high and mighty, like you have changed for the better, but honestly, look at yourself.” The face in the mirror disappeared for a minute, allowing him to see his reflection. He just saw a broken, tired man staring back.

“See what I mean? You’re so weak and fragile. I may be stuck here for now, but you know your power is waning. One day, I’m going to come back stronger and better than you. I’ll make you sit front row in your own body, watching as I kill all your friends. I’ll save Builderman for last, make it hurt. I’ll destroy every distraction that is holding you back from your true power; Everything that makes you weak.”

He wasn’t quite sure why it was telling him this. “I thought you loved Builderman. Why has that changed?”

“Oh, you don’t know? Well let me enlighten you a little bit. When we split, you took all of what you considered the good traits, and left me with the scraps. I’ve been trapped for so very long, able to simmer in my anger for lots of years.” It honestly reminded him of 1x1x1x1, the pure manifestation of his hatred. As if it was reading his thoughts, it replied.

“I’m nothing like your wimpy hatred. I’m so much worse.” Shedletsky growled as his anger slowly simmered to a boil, before needing an outlet. Telamon was ticking him off, and he wanted to get rid of him. He balled up his hands that were previously gripping the sink, and raised it level with his cheek. Shoving his fist forward, the mirror shattered as Shedletsky punched it, breathing heavily. “Stay locked up”. 

Blood was running down his arm from his hand, pieces of glass stuck in his knuckles. He knew these wounds were going to leave white marks, but they were hopefully going to be small and unnoticeable. He dragged the hand that wasn’t bleeding over his face, taking a deep breath before turning towards the door, and pulling at the doorknob, walking back to his room.

From the living room, the survivors looked up the stairs for the source of the noise. But Builderman just waved a hand dismissively before heading towards Shedletsky's room, knowing it was probably him.

He knocked, once and twice before the door was opened. The room was messy, the desk chair tipped over onto the floor. It wasn’t a very huge room, only having enough space for a desk, closet, and a bed. The desk was situated next to a small window overlooking the woods surrounding the cabin, while the bed was up against the wall straight across from the door.

Shedletsky was trying his best to cover any sightline he may have had into his room. The hand on the doorframe was bleeding, leaving streaky lines down the old wood. He decided he needed to talk to him, even if the other was trying to hide whatever was happening.

“We need to talk, Telamon. Now.”

“I said don’t call me that. That's not me anymore, Builderman. You should know that better than anyone.” He tried shutting the door, but Builderman stuck his foot in the crevice, kicking it open, and pushing the taller into the room before closing the door back for privacy.

“What the hell dude! You can’t just barge in here with no warning!” Shedletsky looked more concerned than annoyed though, hiding his injured hand behind his back.

Builderman crouched under the bed before returning with a medkit. “There was a warning, I told you we were talking. Now sit.” He pointed to the bed.

“No, I want you out. There is nothing to talk about.” He tried pushing him closer to the door, but Builderman was stronger, standing his ground. He shoved the hands off his shoulders before forcing him to sit on the bed, the medkit getting tossed on the floor in the process. As Builderman tries to grab his injured hand, Shedletsky pulls away, accidently backhanding the other in the process.

Eyes widening, he reaches up towards his face, finger coming back with blood from the gash on his upper cheek. Shedletsky glances from the blood covered finger, back to his cheek where the glass from his knuckles sliced the fat. As soon as Builderman realized what happened, he pulled away, and started walking backwards towards the door. He cracked the door open just enough to squeeze out, never taking his eyes off the taller. The door shutting was loud in the silence of the room.

Shedletsky just pressed his hands to his face before letting the tears slip.

Chapter Text

It had been a couple months since they had all been teleported to this random ‘pocket hell’ as Builderman likes to call it. None of the survivors are quite sure why they ended up here. Many of them had died in the real world, but are somehow living and breathing here. Two-Time, the cultist, believes this is a gift from some entity named ‘Spawn’.

They were forced to confront their enemies in rounds of murderous chases. Eight minute rounds, with one killer, and ten survivors. Each survivor knows at least one of the killers, or has a past history with them; Partners, best friends, or in 007n7s case, child.

All the survivors have their own special abilities, and are separated into three groups. Noob and 007n7 are the survivalist type, which mainly have self-serving abilities, but are useful in distracting the killer. 

Sentinels are the second category which includes Two-time, Guest, Shedletsky, and Chance. They are the ones attacking the killer, trying to protect the survivalists and supporting players.

The last category is the support type which includes Builderman, Taph, Elliot, and Dusekkar. Their main abilities are to set up traps and distractions, or to heal the others.

The longer they were stuck in this hell, the more they relied on each other, and used their abilities to the max, being able to hurt the killer by working together.

The next rounds were made much worse when the other survivors glanced at him, but wouldn't come near. He knew he needed to talk to Builderman, but that was made harder when he was always flanked by at least one other survivor. After every failed attempt at reaching the other, he got more and more demotivated.

As a new round started, Shedletsky had pretty much given up trying to meet up with Builderman, and now was more focused on trying to not die.

1x1x1x1 was the killer this round. His creation; His hatred. As the killer closed in, so did the shadows. With every step the killer took towards him, his body took one backwards, eventually hitting a corner, with his back pressed against a wall.

1x’s voice rang out in front of him, his two daemonshank swords dragging through the dirt at his sides. “Looks like you’ve been backed into a wall, Creator. All the survivors are staying clear of you, why is that, Telamon?” He stopped, standing in front of him, sword swinging upwards, slicing through the air to point at his neck. Shedletsky said nothing, eyes defocusing.

1x1x1x1 stood in front of him, but it wasn’t the embodiment of hatred he was now. Pale skin and doe eyes stared at him, scared. The kid was laying on the ground, half in a kneeling position, propped up onto his elbow. His other hand was cradling his face, a red mark in the shape of a hand starting to form. The god towered over the smaller, robes swishing in the wind as he floated, sword held in his left. His right hand was at his side, a slight sting to it.

He smirked deviously, “Hmm. You failed again, what a shame. I was actually starting to have some hope, but I guess not. You’ve disappointed me for the last time.”

“Wait! Creator I can do better, trust me!” The smaller said, moving from his position on the floor and grabbing the wooden sword, holding it in front of him mimicking a battle ready stance.

He sighed before vanishing the metal sword he was wielding. “Too late.” He pressed his hands together, one on top of the other, claws pointing opposite ways, summoning his magic. He opened them and waved them in a circle clockwise, creating a portal below the white haired child. “Enjoy banishment.”

“ANSWER ME” 1x1x1x1 said, getting tired of the blank stare the other had. His eyes slowly came back to focus on the creation in front of him.

Shedletsky opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, a gunshot rang out. His arm was grabbed by the hand holding a flintlock, which must have been the same one that shot at the killer. After getting sufficiently far enough away, he was slammed into a wall.

“What the hell were you doing out there? Are you trying to get yourself killed?! You’re lucky I was there to distract him or you would be sliced into a thousand pieces. Guest is handling him now, but you need to actually try.” Shedletsky just stared at the gambler, turning his head to stare at a rock behind him instead of meeting his eyes.

“Chance, I-” Before any more words came out of his mouth. Chance’s hand smacked him across the face, just hard enough to shut him up.

“Listen. Whatever is happening between you and Builderman needs to be resolved. It’s breaking up the group, and causing you to be reckless.”

“Builderman won’t talk to me. I fucked up, I know.”

“I really don’t know what happened other than a big fight, but I know you hurt him. I can try to convince Builderman to talk, but it’s all up to him. I’d suggest apologising though, because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t his fault.”

Chance thinks it's his fault. Is that what every survivor thinks, that all he’s good for is causing trouble? He wants to argue, say it’s not his fault, but deep down he knows it was. Builderman was just trying to help, and Shedletsky just had to push him away.

“Get back into the fight, Shed. I’ll support you.” Chance gave his shoulder a singular pat before leaving.

Before long, the round was over and the survivors were teleported back to the cabin. Shedletsky spawned next to Builderman, and tried to reach over towards him, but the shorter one slapped his hand away and walked up the stairs before he could say anything. His eyes shifted to Chance, his red suit and glasses standing out amongst the group. The gambler nodded towards him before following the admin up the stairs.

Shedletsky knew where Buildermans room was. The cabin wasn’t too big after all. It was two floors, with a full kitchen and living room on the first, along with a hallway leading to five rooms; Guest, Two-Time, Elliot, Taph, and Dusekkar. The second floor had the other five rooms; Noob, 007n7, Builderman, Shedletsky, and Chance. Shedletsky's room being the furthest away from Buildermans, at the other end of the hall.

The door shut behind Chance with a soft noise, prompting Builderman to glance towards the newcomer. Upon realizing it was the gambler, he sat up from his lying position, and leaned against the headboard. He patted the spot next to him on the bed, inviting him to sit down on the quilt.

After the fight, Chance had been his therapist in a way. He had to tell someone, and Chance had offered him a listening ear. Chance agrees that Shedletsky was not in the right, but then says he kind of antagonised him by calling him by the nickname he said he didn’t like.

Builderman hates to say it, but he kind of agreed with Chance. He should have stopped, but he had called him that name for so long, it came natural; like second nature.

“Hey Chance, what’s up?” He leaned his head on Chance’s shoulder; a friendly gesture.

“Today's round was different from normal.”

“What do you mean? It seemed pretty normal to me?” He shrugged his shoulders. Nothing seemed any different than usual. The killer was 1x1x1x1 so it was obvious they wouldn't see much of him; He really only targeted his creator. Sure some people got caught in the crossfire, but they weren’t killed on purpose. The only difference was Shedletsky didn’t die this round.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, that is a little out of the ordinary. He didn’t care though, Shedletsky was not worth the space in his thoughts anymore.

“Okay, maybe that was the wrong way to start. Let me try again. Shedletsky was acting unusual.” Builderman flinched at the mention of his name. An almost miniscule twitch, but Chance felt it. 

“I really think you two should talk. He-”

“No” He lifted his head off the others shoulder, rubbing his thumb across the scar on his cheek, looking away from Chance.

“Please, Builder. I think he really does feel sorry about it, you just need to talk about it. Maybe clear up some misunderstandings?” He tried, pleading for Builder to just listen to him.

“I told you to drop it Chance.” The gambler sighed before nodding slowly.

Downstairs, Two-Time had seen the small glances between the three, and wondered what was up. They walked up to Shedletsky, hoping to pry for some answers.

They nudged the taller, motioning towards the dining table where they would have a little more privacy compared to the card game being played on the coffee table in the living room with the rest of the survivors huddled around. Shedletsky just nodded before following the cultist into the kitchen.

They hopped up onto the dining table, sitting crisscrossed in the middle, knocking the salt and pepper on the floor to make room for themselves. He just chose a chair close to them at the end of the table.

“I sense a lovers dispute between the Builder, and thou. I must ask, is it to be believed? Many think so.” They looked at him, waiting for an answer. Shedletsky looked away and just shrugged. They couldn’t stand looking into their eyes, knowing it was more than just a dispute, but not wanting to explain. It was easier to deal with it himself, he didn’t need all the survivors in the quarrel. 

“I must assume that means yes. I had a lover too, we had a fight at the very end of our relationship. He didn’t approve of my actions. It, however, was for the greater good.” Shedletsky was afraid of where this was going. The cultist always had weird stories. “I took them out to a picnic on a cliff watching the stars. He had always loved them, and wished that he was one of them. They had given me a nightshade bouquet as a gift, and we took one last picture together.”

Two-Time reached into their pocket and pulled out a picture showing a background of stars and a cliffside with two people in the middle. The one on the left was them, and on the right was who he assumed was their lover. Two-Time was kissing their cheek, while one hand held something reflecting off the flash of the camera.

Two-Times' tail was moving back and forth as he stared at the picture, making a soft ‘swoosh’ sound as it sliced through the air. He looked a little closer at the item in their hand, and realized it was a dagger; The same one sitting in its holster that they use in rounds. His eyes widened in surprise, glancing back up to the other.

“Ahh, yes. I remember that day. A sacrifice was needed, as The Spawn requested. In return, we have both been granted second lives. He, however, has still not forgiven me.”

Shedletsky just blinked in disbelief. He thought they were crazy, but now he knew they were.

“The Spawn has blessed us. Maybe they can bless you as well? Here, you may take this item to help you on your journey to enlightenment.” They slid the dagger across the table, the handle pointing towards him. He reached for it, and Two-Time’s smile grew more deranged. He immediately pulled his hand towards his chest, and gave a nervously forced smile towards them.

“No thank you, I think we can just talk it out. Thanks for the story.” Two-Time’s smile faded, and they just raised their hands in a surender motion. Shedletsky just got out of the chair he was sitting in and pushed it back before speed walking towards the living room, hoping to get his mind off of the conversation.

Chapter Text

When night came, he just tossed and turned in his bed before giving up and throwing the covers off of him. He slid a hand down his face before getting out of bed and walking towards the window, sitting down in the chair. Moonlight was shining in through the gap of the curtains, highlighting the bags under his eyes.

He knew he was looking rough for wear, even 007n7 noticed, and that man was the most oblivious person he knew. He thought back to the conversation they had earlier that day.

It was right after the conversation with Two-Time, if you could even count it as a conversation; It was more like a conversion to Spawnism.

He had sat down on the couch next to 007n7 after declining an invitation to be dealt into the UNO game going on.

As soon as he sat down, he felt a nudge on his arm, making him turn towards the other.

“Hey, you look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?” Shedletsky felt guilty for making him worry, he already has enough problems.

“Yeah, I’m good Seven. Thanks for checking in though.”

“I’m glad you’re doing alright.” Seven reached over, ruffling his hair, picking out a stray feather that fell from his head wings. 

“I remember when I wasn’t getting enough sleep, and looked like you did. It was right after I first found Coolkid.” 007n7 looked like he was going down memory lane. “It was a really late night, and there was a knock on the front door of my apartment. I opened my CoolGUI just to be safe in case someone decided to attack me.”

He knew Sevens GUI pretty well. It was a hacker panel, or well, it used to be. Now he can only use basic commands to help himself. He mostly uses it to teleport away from the killer, or spawn a clone which makes himself invisible so he can get away easier.

“I opened the door, only to find nothing in front of me. I was confused until I looked down and saw a child. No note, no nothing, just him. I couldn’t just let him freeze to death outside, so I decided to take him in.” Seven smiled as he recalled these memories.”I picked him up out of the basket, and reached a finger towards him. He grabbed it with his cute little red hands, and I just knew I was keeping him no matter what.”

Shedletsky smiled, thinking back to when 1x1x1x1 was just a tiny child, and did the same to him. Back before he made all those choices.

“I was in college and had a roommate at the time. His name was Noli, and he was not stoked to say the least. We were hacker buddies, but he liked calling us partners. Between college, taking care of Coolkid, and hacking at the same time, I just couldn’t do all of them. During that time, my grades in college slipped, I got suspended twice, and I just gave up. I had to give up hacking, and ended up dropping out of college.”

“What did you go to college for?” He was wondering. Seven seemed like the type of guy to be a teacher's pet, too nervous to ever step out of line, but from this story he seemed like a delinquent.

“I went for computer science. I figured it would help me with hacking. I was in my last semester too, I wish I could go back.”

“When we get out of here, I’ll pay for you to go back to college.”

“If we ever get out of here, you mean?”

“Seven, think positive.”

“Yes, birdie!” He put his hand up in a mock salute. Shedletsky just rolled his eyes at the display in front of him.

“Anyways, where was I? Oh, right. As I was saying. I dropped out of college, and gave up hacking. I didn’t have enough money for college, and didn’t have enough time for hacking. All of my effort was focused on Coolkid, he’s like my son. Or a gift from god himself. Noli, as expected, was upset that I gave up hacking. Right before that though, I pressured him to take a really rare item called the Void Star. It was going for a lot of money and we really needed it. I should have read a bit further, but it’s in the past now.” Seven recalled the moment Noli touched the Void Star.

A bright blinding light made him flinch back and close his eyes as tight as he could. When the light disappeared, he opened his eyes, glancing towards his friend. He wasn’t where he was originally, but instead, floating above the ground. The Void Star was noticeably missing from its holder, and was hovering on top of the purple crown Noli was wearing.

He opened and closed his eyes a few times, and even rubbed at them, but every time he looked back, Noli was hovering, just staring at him.

Noli opened his hand, and the star teleported from its place above the crown, into his palm. He tossed the star at the wall opposite them, and the wall exploded. A wide grin spread across his friend's face before he glided over to him. 007n7 stood starstruck. Noli shook his shoulders.

“Seven! Do you understand how much we could do with this power?!? Forget selling it, let's have some fun!” His friend said, and dragged him into town. It was fun for about a week until later, when Noli began going through some changes.

He walked into the bathroom, where his friend was pulling on his hair. Tons of discarded hair was lying on the ground, with some of it still in the sink.

“Noli? What’s happening?” He panicked.

“I have no idea, this just started happening. I noticed a few strands in the shower, but this is way worse!” 007n7’s eyes flew up to the star atop Nolis head.

“Stay put, I’ll be right back!” He rushed out of the bathroom, immediately opened the computer on his desk. He pulled the article about the Void Star, and read further.

“Oh shit” he muttered to himself, slamming the top closed.

Seven shook his head, getting rid of the images before continuing. “Long story short, the Void Star was very valuable, but also very deadly. Me and Noli had a big fight after finding that out, and he left, taking all his belongings, and slamming the door behind him.” Shedletsky reached out a hand, and took sevens, squeezing it for reassurance. He didn’t know why the man was telling him all this, but he wasn’t going to interrupt to ask why.

“After Noli left, I fell into depression, and tried to raise Coolkid all by myself with whatever money I could scrape together working two jobs. A couple years later, when he was ten, me and Coolkid got into a small dispute and he slammed the door to his room. I waited to see if he would calm down, but he didn’t come back after an hour. I knocked on his door, but there wasn’t an answer. I figured he was sleeping, so I cracked the door open to check on him. He wasn’t in there though, and the window was cracked open.” He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and unfolded it. It was a missing poster, with a young picture of his son, Coolkid, in the middle.

“He never came back. Maybe him becoming a killer was my fault. Maybe it’s karma for Noli, I’ll never know. I can’t even remember what I yelled at him about, maybe it was about him eating his vegetables, maybe picking up his toys. After he went missing, I fell into a pit. I was irrational in that mindset, but the gun looked so tempting. I thought that maybe I could try again in my next life. There was nothing holding me together, so I just… Cracked.” He let go of Shedletsky's hand, instead raising it to brush back his light brown bangs. In doing so, it exposed a blast scar, right at his temple.

Shedletsky could guess what happened, even if Seven was vague with the details. His hand fell, bangs covering the scar back up. He folded the paper back up with shaky hands, placing it carefully back in his pocket before standing up.

“Enough with that, let's go get some pizza. I think Elliot’s done cooking.” He nodded, and allowed himself to be dragged towards the kitchen where everyone else was already sitting.

Chapter Text

The kitchen smelt of baked pizza, fresh out the oven. No one but Elliot knew how to cook, so they basically had pizza every meal. Not that he was complaining, Guest was the only one who tried to cook, but that went about as well as expected. It ended up with him, Dusekkar, and Taph waving towels over the fire alarm so it turned off, with Guest sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. When everyone met for dinner that night, they were met with burnt pancakes and bacon.

Elliot deeply sighed before summoning a pizza using his ability and placing it upon the table.

“Thanks Elliot, I wanted to try my hand and see if I remembered anything, but my wife was normally the one cooking for me and my daughter.”

“Go sit down with the rest. I appreciate the offer to cook tonight, but you’re being banned from the kitchen.” 

“That’s fair,” Guest replied, before walking out of the kitchen and sitting down next to the quietest one; Taph. Elliot rolled his eyes before taking his seat at the head of the table.

He snapped out of the flashback when a ray of sun hit his eyes, momentarily blinding him. It was morning already, and he hadn’t slept one bit. That had honestly been the routine for Shedletsky the last couple nights. Sometimes he would manage an hour or two, but not much.

He turned towards the small makeup mirror on the desk, picking it up to look at his face. His eyebags have grown, this whole thing with Builderman has taken a toll on him and it hasn’t even been a week yet.

A familiar face popped up in the mirror. Startled, he threw the mirror across the room. It landed in a pile of clothes, unharmed.

“Aww, Shed. Is that how you greet me after smashing the last mirror? It hurts you know!” The voice he knows too well echoes out of the mirror, even from across the room.

“You shouldn't be here Telamon.” he said, sternly.

“Pick me up. Are you too much of a coward to face me? Figures.” At the taunt, he stomps over to the mirror, setting it back up on the desk.

“Better?”

“Snarky today, are we? Wow those eye bags are harsh, maybe I shouldn’t have asked to see you. You really have fallen from grace. I’m ashamed.” He knew the other was just trying to get under his skin, but it was working, and he hated it.

“Shut up.”

“Is that all you can come up with? Your insults wound me so.” His reflection clutched at his chest in mock hurt.

Shedletsky moved closer, glaring at the other through the mirror, trying to figure out what he was up to. Telamon's grin stretched more the closer he got. He had no time to react before the golden eyed avian reached out from the mirror, claws bared.

He pulled away before he could grab on to his neck and choke him, but he still scratched the side of his neck pretty hard. Telamon's grin was replaced by a frown as he realized he was still in the mirror. 

“Seems I missed this time. Until we meet again, Shedletsky.” With those final parting words, the mirror showed his reflection, blood running down his neck from where his claws had dug in.

He wasn’t supposed to be able to leave that mirror. There should be no possible way, but the gash was real; The pain was real. He’s getting stronger.

He stared at the claw marks running up the side of his neck and ending at his jaw. Shedletsky could tell he was bleeding, but he couldn’t really feel it. His mind isn’t quite catching up with reality, the shock drowning out his pain receptors. Warm gold liquid oozed slowly from the wound, not enough for blood loss, but just enough for it to be annoying. It runs down his neck, staining the top of the t-shirt he was wearing.

He felt like if he hadn’t been looking in the mirror, he wouldn’t know what had happened. The wetness of the liquid was more noticeable than anything else. He just sat there feeling the constant dripping, golden blood oozing down his neck as the air seemed to get colder on his skin. At the first shiver, he placed a hand over the injury, hoping to at least slow it, if not stop it completely.

He doesn’t know how Telamon was able to phase through the mirror, but he knows he cannot let anyone find out. 

He picked up the medkit, which was still on the floor from the fight. He hadn’t bothered to pick it up, just picking the glass out of his knuckles with his nails. Opening it, he was surprised to see it fully stocked, with plenty of bandages and even burn cream. Maybe there was some form of hope in this hellscape, he just needs to count his blessings.

Once the bleeding had subsided, he picked up the antibiotic cream, twisting the cap off, and squeezing some onto his finger. He took a deep breath, and started rubbing it all over the claw marks, being extra careful where the gashes were the deepest. He hissed and recoiled at the sting, but knew he didn’t want it getting infected. He picked up a couple bandaids, haphazardly slapping them on his neck. He knew it was a little suspicious looking, but he just had to hope the survivors weren’t trying to be nosy.

He looked down at the t-shirt, now stained with the ichor from his veins. Annoyed at the now ruined shirt, he slipped it off his body, and chucked it into the trash. He walked over to the closet, sliding open the door, and sliding hanger after hanger towards the other side in hopes of finding something similar to what he was wearing earlier. He slid through a couple of options, but his eyes caught a black robe hanging, complete with a belt, and golden orange accents sewn in. It was Shedletsky's old outfit – before he shed his godhood – but one he associated with Telamon more than himself.

Honestly, there was no good explanation for it to be hanging in his closet except for the Specter trying to remind him of his horrible past. It felt like he could never escape his alter, even a whole dimension away. The Specter was an unforgiving entity, it was the thing that trapped them in this dimension in the first place. Shedletsky had never encountered it in person, or even talked with it, but it somehow knew how to get under everyone's skin, himself included.

After a couple seconds of looking, he eventually ended up at a plain white shirt, taking it off the hanger, and shoving it on before heading towards the door. His hand touched the brass doorknob, and turned the lock, opening it towards himself while taking a deep breath.

He walked out of his room, heading to breakfast, when he was stopped by Noob who appeared to have just come from the restroom. He casually waved, hoping to appear as normal as possible, and Noob replied with a friendly smile.

“Hey Shed, heading to breakfast?”

“Yeah, are you heading there too?.” He asked, hoping that they could just walk down and be done with this conversation.

“I was, but I have to ask… What’s up with your neck?” Just his luck he supposed. The one person who’s known for minding their own business was feeling curious today. 

“Uhh, nothing!” His head wing slapped against the exposed cut on his jaw. Great, that only seemed to make him more suspicious. Noob narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the facade the older man was putting up. He smiled nervously, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

After a couple seconds of tense silence, Noob dropped it and shrugged his shoulders.

“If you say so, Shedletsky. I’m sure we’re having pizza again.”

He just laughed, and messed up Noobs hair playfully. The younger swatted the hand away, and giggled out, “Hands off!”. Noob energetically skipped down the hallway, and flew down the stairs, while the older one just followed behind.

Breakfast was nothing spectacular, pretty tense actually. Builderman was at one end, Shedletsky at the other. In the middle of the table was a box of pizza, half eaten.

Shedletsky reached for the box at the same time Builderman did, their hands slightly brushing against each other. Builderman flinched like he’d been burned by the touch alone. He glared into his soul, warning him to try something like that again. In response, Shedletsky just tried to look as uninterested as possible, resting the uninjured side of his jaw on the palm of his hand.

In doing so, he exposed the claw mark on the side of his jaw. Builderman’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, before returning to normal. Shedletsky noticed, because of course he did. He spent extremely long around him when they were both head admins, so why wouldn’t he notice. He had all the time in the world to study every facial feature on his face, able to identify every unusual twitch.

At first, he wondered what had caught his eye, but Buildermans eyes had shifted towards his jaw, and he knew. Immediately, he straightened back up, and excused himself from the table, mumbling a half hearted excuse of forgetting something upstairs. 

007n7 cast him a concerned look as he stood, but he gave a small thumbs up in hopes that would dismiss the concern.

Builderman saw the marks on his neck, why wouldn’t he? It's not like his friend was very subtle about covering it up. Something had been up with Shedletsky the last couple of days, but he doesn’t know what it was. It started the other day with the mirror, then the fight, but now he’s zoning out during rounds, and is ending up with scratch marks across his neck.

He wanted to talk to Shedletsky and figure out what was wrong, but he was trying to hold steadfast to his idea that the other male needed to apologise first. Maybe he needs to make it easier? He had been kind of harsh in the way he went about ignoring him. Of course the scar will stay there forever, but maybe Chance was right about it being an accident.

He made up his mind, and said “fuck the plan.” He was going to go talk to Shedletsky, and maybe make things right between the two. He really wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was happening to the man, and that meant they needed to talk, whether or not he truly wanted to. He didn’t know why he had waited so long. Maybe to make sure it stuck? Maybe he just wanted to be petty. Either way, he was going to make amends, even if it killed him to do so.

Shedletsky almost slammed his room door in a panic, trying hard not to break down in tears. Builderman saw; He knows. He shouldn’t have even gone downstairs, in a way, he was just begging for attention. How stupid could he be, making it more obvious by slapping some bandaids on haphazardly. Of course people would notice, they stood out against his paler skin. Why couldn’t he have just left them be? He could have just locked himself in his room until the next round started. At least then people would have been too worried with saving their own lives to care about whatever was up with him.

In his frenzy, he reached up to his neck, and scratched at the bandaids, peeling them off his skin and exposing the marks to the air. He knew he needed to calm down, but all rational thoughts had seemingly gotten lost on their way to his brain. He walked over to the desk, slamming his hands down onto the wood, and staring deeply into the mirror. He didn’t know why he was like this, why he was freaked out over Builderman knowing. Maybe it was the irrational side of his brain talking, or maybe the lack of air was getting to him.

Speaking of air, why couldn’t he breathe? He should be, but he couldn’t grasp any. He gripped his neck, his own claws digging in, trying to capture any spare oxygen he could try to push into his lungs.

Golden liquid seeped from the self-inflicted wounds, traveling down his neck and arms, dripping onto the desk, and staining the wood. He knows that he’s just making it worse, but there wasn’t much else he could do, air becoming a foreign concept, his lungs failing to work at this point. His eyes became foggy, eyelids drooping, and body slowly shutting down. His knees buckled, not able to support his own weight anymore, and he dropped to his knees, knocking the mirror off of the desk.

He heard giggles coming from somewhere in the room, but maybe he was just hallucinating. How wrong he was.

“Goodnight Shedletsky. Forever.”

And with those words, he passed out, familiar claws dragging him towards the mirror.