Work Text:
Candy Apple sat in the washroom, huddled next to the bathtub. The warm water ran in a steady rhythm, the patter splashing onto the tile. The heat fogs up the mirror, yet she has no desire to enter the shower. She knew better than to waste so much water for no reason, but she needed an excuse to loiter in the bathroom.
She twirled a small blade, a pocket knife Black Sapphire had gifted her. It was likely given in case of emergencies. He’d be horrified to see what she uses it for instead. The shiny steel gleams despite the crusted jam on the blade, a reminder of all the hurt she has caused herself in the past.
Gently, she lowers her striped stocking to her ankle, unveiling her myriad of scars. It’s a sickening sight compared to her unscathed left leg. She grimaces at the sight; sometimes, her scarring looks too grotesque for her to handle. Her eyes linger on her thigh, fingers softly brushing against the older markings, feeling every little bump.
She locates a part on her leg with minimal scars, nothing but faded, white marks on that part of her dough. She raises her blade with just a hint of hesitance. Part of her knows that it’s wrong, that it’s strange and shameful of her to do. It’s cookie nature to avoid being hurt, so how can she stand to harm herself constantly? Nonetheless, she quiets her thoughts with a slash to her thigh.
She winces in pain, relishing in the sweet, instantaneous relief she felt. She watches jam begin to pool in the wound, small crumbs falling from her dough. The deep, red jam drips down her leg as she continues her self injury. Gashes, both shallow and deep, begin to decorate her body, jam threatening to stain every surface it touches. Her mind feels numb, feeling nothing but the pain of the slits. She loves it.
Cutting herself is one of the only ways to silence the chaos that is her head. Without the pain, she has to think of her own mental anguish. The hurt grounds her, keeping her from spiraling further. She knows that the solace she feels is quick to diminish afterwards, but it feels too good to quit. The comfort she feels from it, the sense of control she gains while she cuts, how can she choose to recover when it makes her feel so euphoric? The only issue is hiding her unsavory habit from the rest of the spire.
Part of her wishes that she didn’t have to hide it. Part of her wants for her fresh, bloody wounds to be displayed publicly, for everyone to notice them, to notice her . Despite the misconception of self harm purely being a form of attention seeking, she feels that it truly does apply to her. She wants someone to see her cuts, to see that she isn’t okay.
She wants her Shadow Milk to see them, to attempt to heal them for her, to acknowledge her anguish and comfort her the way she always yearned for.
After a couple of cuts, she feels that the stinging is too much. She closes her blade and scrambles for a piece of toilet paper to wipe away some of the jam. It isn’t ideal, but she has never been one for excessive aftercare. After making sure none of the jam would be able to spill onto the white, tiled floor, she takes off her stocking and stands up. The dizziness hits her almost immediately. She held onto the shower curtain, worried she may collapse.
As soon as the dizziness began to decline, she throws her sock behind her and turns to shut the shower off, turning into a gentle stream of water from the faucet instead. She sits on her knees in the bath, careful to avoid her dress from becoming damp. She watches the jam run in the water, turning the liquid into a light red. Oddly, it delighted her to witness just how much damage she had done. She needs to feel like she’s done enough to warrant her sorrow.
Soon after, she completely turns off the shower and reaches for her towel. She can’t bring herself to care much about the blood stains. She’s been injured so often on missions, she doubts both Black Sapphire or Shadow Milk will think anything unusual about it.
Despite cleaning the cuts, the jam still pools in the fresh wounds. She knows that she could search for some bandages in the washroom, but part of her still desires the attention she’s yet to receive. It’s illogical and a terrible idea, but Candy Apple has always been an impulsive cookie.
Without a thought, she lets the jam flow and simply puts her sock back on.
She ignores the dizziness and the ache in her leg once she walks, clinging onto the wall to balance her, she reaches for the door knob. She checks quickly to see if anyone is nearby, before dashing to her bedroom. She can’t have anyone finding out she lied about showering, after all.
Candy Apple’s day goes by as usual, the same monotonous routine she always does. She just adores the regularity, but she can’t ignore the pain in her leg. Had she gone too deep this time? Either way, she knows that she can’t look like she’s slacking on her duties as a cookie of deceit, so she keeps going despite the ache.
Black Sapphire watches her closely, eyeing her every movement. He had noticed something was off about her today. Her typical cheerful, energetic nature had fallen flat suddenly, her shrill voice becoming dull and bland, a far cry from the sweetness she aims to achieve. Every step seems laboring for her, she limps and groans softly as she walks instead of her usual, aimless wandering around the spire.
It worried him.
He leans on his microphone, his gaze turning towards it, as if seeking its advice. Its sentience would be eerie to any other cookie, but Black Sapphire had grown to view it as family, more than just a comfort item. It lets out a high pitched whine; a sound that signifies distaste in something, he had long since figured out what everything the microphone says, even if it's nothing more than audio feedback.
Black Sapphire looks at it curiously, intrigued as to what could have caught its attention. Its eye glances at him, before looking to Candy Apple. The grape flavored cookie follows its gaze. It lands on her face, then down to her legs. His eyecings suddenly widen in shock.
Was that jam on her stocking?
Candy Apple notices her brother and his beloved staff staring at her. She tilts her head, confused. She walks over to them, attempting to hide her limp.
“What are you looking at, Sapphy? Is there something on my face?” She asks innocently, to which Black Sapphire hesitates.
“Candy… What in Witches name happened to your leg?”
Candy Apple feels her face turn pale.
Candy Apple loved attention. She relished in the feeling of all eyes being on her, she wants to be recognized and validated.
But for once, she wishes she were invisible.
She knows that the choice to let her wounds bleed freely was a conscious decision; she wanted the attention that may come with her self-harm, but she never knew just how petrifying it could be to actually get caught.
She wanted her beloved Shadow Milk to find out, not her brother! This was awful for her, surely he’ll force her to give up her precious blades and to recover for good! She doesn’t know how she could possibly manage a life without her favorite coping mechanism.
Part of her knows that her master wouldn’t have bothered to get her to quit.
That thought was comforting despite its implications.
“It’s nothing, Black Sapphire. I just tripped and got hurt, so I should probably go to my room and change into a different sock, okay? Bye!” Candy Apple says, before being cut off by a yank to her wrists. She looks back at Black Sapphire, staring at the deeply etched concern on his face. It makes her feel sick.
“Yeah, as if. I thought living here would make you a semi-decent liar at the very least… Now, tell me what really happened.” He states, stern yet worrisome.
Candy Apple stammers, trying to figure out what to say. She doesn’t want to admit to him that she mutilates herself, not only is it concerning – It’s embarrassing! How could she dare to tell her coworker, her brother about such a heavy topic?
The grip on her arm gently turns into a soft hand hold, Black Sapphire’s usual sharp features, contorting into a look of tenderness. Candy Apple isn’t used to it/
“Can you at least show me what happened? I doubt you properly bandaged anything…” He sighs, bringing her to the couch in the common room.
Reluctantly, she takes off her stocking.
Black Sapphire sighs, the gory mess of his sister’s leg staring at him. Candy Apple looks away, ashamed of herself, ashamed of looking so weak in front of him.
“I’ll get a first aid kit, just wait a moment.” He says, leaving his staff to watch her.
In the short time he's gone, Candy Apple’s mind races through too many thoughts.
Her heart pounds with anxiety and stress, feeling too vulnerable for comfort. As much as she loves and trusts Black Sapphire, him seeing this part of her is only a reality in her deepest nightmares. Her soft hands become wet with sweat and her unharmed leg bounces from fear.
She refuses to make eye contact with his staff.
It feels like it's judging her.
She knows they both are.
Black Sapphire returns soon after and begins to get to work, holding Candy Apple’s hand tightly as he cleans the wounds with antiseptic. She winces in pain, whimpering at the stinging ache from the disinfectant. After cleaning, he carefully wraps a roll of soft, sterile bandages around her cuts, mindful of accidentally making it too loose or too tight for her.
After the cleaning process, he puts the equipment away and sits next to her.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asks. “I promise, on my microphone itself, everything you tell me will stay between us only.”
“Yeah, of course it would…” Candy Apple says, rolling her eyes. Despite her faith in him, she doubts that he can keep himself from blabbering to Shadow Milk about it afterwards. From the way he witnessed her, she knows that if he told him, their master would see her as a fragile burden rather than a cookie truly deserving of his attention.
“I’m serious. I want you to talk to me.”
“I don’t want to, Sapphy!”
He rolls his eyes, her behavior, although annoying, just saddened him further.
"You're using the dagger I gave you, aren't you? I'll take it from your room once we finish here."
"That's none of your business!" She whines, a wave of fear flashing in her eyes when he mentions taking away her blade of choice. "And you don't have to take it... I mean, what if I have some sort of crazy emergency on a mission?"
"Do any emergencies involve you harming yourself instead of others?"
Candy Apple quickly goes silent.
“Can you at least tell me why you do it?”
“No! Now stop being so nosey! It’s so annoying! You wouldn’t get it anyways!”
He sighs, giving up on attempting to get her to open up. His heart pangs with sadness as he sees his sister suffering so terribly. He wants her to know that he can get it, that he will as long as she allows herself to talk to him.
“And why is that?”
“Because, I don’t know! You've never done it before, so I’d just look like a total dough-brain if I tried to explain.”
“Have I now?” He inquires, to which Candy Apple furrows her brows in confusion.
“Huh?”
Black Sapphire nods and slowly lifts up his heavy, delicate sleeves.
His own arm is covered in a myriad of the same scars.
Candy Apple gasps in shock. She expected him to mock her, or to possibly care for her, or even force her into recovery.
But to see him suffering the same way she is?
His scars seem older, as if they were done several years ago. They’re very orderly, not a single cut out of line. They look to be at the same depth as Candy Apple’s.
It shook her to the core.
“I… I’m sorry, Sapphy.” She mumbles, her high voice losing all volume.
“Don’t be.” He hums. “I quit a long time ago. I just want you to know that, as cheesy as it is, you’re not alone, Candy. The one thing I can not lie about is that you’re my sister, my own dough and jam. I can’t bear to see you suffering, you know that, don’t you?”
Candy Apple nods her head, her bright-red eyes starting to fill up with warm, salty tears that threaten to drip down her naturally-rosey cheeks.
“I know… Thank you, Sapphy.” She sobs, before throwing herself on him, ignoring the pain in her leg. Her dive into his arms startles him, before he warms up to her touch. “I love you…”
He sighs, though not a single hint of malice is evident in his voice, one of his hands patting her back as the other wraps around her. “I love you too, Candy, don’t ever forget that."