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Rider couldn't do anything but sit there, staring at the wall.
His scar burned. He hated that it did—wasn't it enough to simply have that ugly teal spotch around his eye from being controlled? Why did it have to burn and sting every hour of every day, too?
Rider's eyes were wide—he found it was difficult to blink. Difficult to breathe normally, too. He tried his best to take deep breaths in and out, but they came out erratic and forced, making him feel lightheaded.
His scar stung even more now.
Was his eye glowing? He felt like he could see a faint teal light on the wall in front of him, but maybe he was just going crazy—
Foolish child.
Rider's erratic breathing suddenly stopped. He found he couldn't breathe at all, all of a sudden.
That was Tartar's voice in his head.
It was only dumb luck that you escaped. That you didn't end up killing them.
Tears were flowing out of Rider's wide eyes, and yet, aside from the way his body shook, he could barely move. He felt trapped in his own body—just like he had been in the metro—
Though, I do like to see you suffer like this. I think I like you better broken.
Rider didn't remember punching a hole through the drywall in front of him. He only realized it had happened at all when he felt the pain in his fist. He pulled it out of the newly made hole—and that's when he finally let a sob wrack his body.
And another. And another. He wrapped his arms around himself as tears streamed down his face.
Pathetic.
That wasn't Tartar's voice this time.
It was his own.
—
Rider simply sat there sobbing and sobbing for what could've been ages. But once he was able to breathe somewhat normally, he finally found it in himself to stand up.
It was difficult to walk, however. Rider had to hold the furniture to support himself as he made his way to the kitchen. He looked around for a few seconds before his eyes darted on the shiny knives.
A glare spread across his tear-stained face.
He knew what he deserved. He was weak and pathetic, not even able to handle the aftermath of being controlled.
He hadn't killed anyone…right? There was no reason for him to feel so guilty. There was no reason for him to be having nightmares every night and horrific flashbacks every day. There was no reason for him to hate that scar so much, for him to scratch at it some days and let the blood flow down his face.
He hadn't even spoken verbally to anyone in days, ever since he had escaped.
Rider pulled out a smaller knife from the block and held it to his arm, because he knew he deserved to feel pain—
Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door. He flinched so hard he almost dropped the knife in his hand.
"Rider?" a faint voice said.
Rider knew that voice, but his foggy mind couldn't match it to a name or a face.
He hadn't seen anyone but his own horrible self in the mirror for days, after all.
"Rider!!"
Another voice. Familiar as well, but less so.
Rider, with shaky hands, set down the knife in his hand.
He didn't answer the door…was it even locked?
Apparently it wasn't—he got this answer when a minute later, it opened, and two people walked in.
Goggles and Hachi. Those were the voices Rider had recognized.
Yes, of course he knew them. Goggles was the idiotic yet cheerful Inkling he had met during CoroCoro Cup, Hachi was the Octoling he had recently met in the Metro.
He had tried to kill both of them while sanitized.
Why were they here? Why did they forgive him?!
"Rider!!" Goggles exclaimed, his eyes falling onto Rider. Rider simply stared at him and Hachi with wide eyes.
"A…are you okay?" Hachi asked, his voice soft.
Rider slowly blinked, briefly glancing at the knife on the counter, the knife he had almost cut himself with.
A few unintelligible sounds escaped his mouth before he realized he had practically forgotten how to talk.
"Rider?" Goggles said. A look of concern was on the Inkling's face as he took a few steps towards Rider—and Rider found himself flinching and backing away.
Rider looked down at his shaky hands, before realizing he had another way to communicate.
Slowly, he signed, "Why are you here?"
Hachi's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Is that…"
"Inklish Sign Language," Goggles said, turning to Hachi. "He's asking us why we're here."
"Oh," Hachi said. "Well…we wanted to check on you. We haven't seen you since we got back, you haven't been answering calls or texts…"
"It's been five days, Rider," Goggles added. "We wanted to make sure you were okay."
Rider sighed. "You should leave."
Goggles told Hachi what Rider had said, before saying to Rider, "Why should we? You don't look well."
"I almost killed you two."
"You were controlled, Rider."
"You shouldn't forgive me."
"But we do forgive you," Goggles said. "Right, Hachi?"
"Of course," Hachi said. "Sanitization does awful things to people's minds. It wasn't your fault, it was Tartar's."
Rider clenched his hands into fists, not knowing what to sign next. He noticed Goggles' eyes fall on the knife on the counter.
"What…what were you using that for?"
Rider hesitated, eyes somehow widening more.
"Nothing."
"Rider…" Hachi said, taking a step towards Rider. "Did you think you had to…punish yourself?"
After a few seconds of silence, Rider slowly nodded, his eyes looking at the floor.
Goggles looked towards Hachi. Both of their expressions held deep worry in them.
"We shouldn't leave him here alone," Hachi muttered. Goggles nodded, and Rider furrowed his eyebrows.
He found it hard to believe that these two actually cared about him.
"Rider," Goggles said, holding out his hand, "can I take you to the couch?"
Rider simply stared at Goggles' hand for a few seconds. He didn't know if he could trust Goggles…but he took his hand anyway.
Goggles gave Rider a small smile as he walked him out of the kitchen. "It's going to be okay, Rider."
Soon, Goggles and Rider were sitting on the couch. Rider realized it was dusty—he hadn't had nearly enough energy to clean the house lately.
"Have you been eating, Rider?" Goggles asked.
Rider blinked. He barely remembered the last time he had eaten—it had been at least a couple days.
He answered Goggles with a shrug.
Goggles nodded, and he got off the couch and walked over to Hachi. He said something to the Octoling, though it was too quiet for Rider to hear well.
"Rider, would you like to eat something?" Hachi asked.
Rider realized that his stomach ached with a deep, deep hunger. He slowly nodded, but he signed, "I don't know if any of my food is good."
Goggles translated this to Hachi. "I'll find a way, don't worry," Hachi then answered.
"Yeah, he's a really good cook!" Goggles said, smiling. "Should I make you some tea, Rider?"
Rider frowned. "Can you be trusted with a stove?"
"Of course! What kind of tea do you want?"
"Green tea. I think I still have some."
Rider then listened to the sounds of the kitchen as Hachi cooked and Goggles put on the kettle for some tea. It was actually somewhat comforting, hearing sounds of life in his apartment, people in here besides himself.
After a few minutes, Goggles placed a steaming mug of green tea on the coffee table, and Hachi placed down a plate with a grilled cheese, cut diagonally. Rider's hands shook as he grasped the handle of the mug, and he felt his muscles relax as he took a sip of the tea.
"Do you like it?" Goggles asked. Rider subtly nodded, taking another sip before setting the mug down.
Rider then took a slice of the grilled cheese and took a bite—cod, it was as delicious as it looked. He made a noise of contentment as he scarfed down the piece in less than a minute.
"Hungry, huh?" Hachi said. Rider nodded as he took the remaining piece of the grilled cheese off the plate. He took another bite, savoring the gooey cheese and the beautifully toasted, buttery bread.
This was the best grilled cheese he had ever tasted.
After a couple minutes, Rider finished the grilled cheese, and he looked up at Goggles and Hachi with a smile.
"Thank you," he signed. "Thank you for caring about me."
"Of course, Rider!" Goggles exclaimed, smiling. "You're our friend, we wanna make sure you're safe!"
"Do you want us to stay here?" Hachi asked. "To make sure you're okay?"
"That would be wonderful," Rider signed, before taking the mug of tea in his hands again.
