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Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Seawatt can hear the noise from across the bridge as he approaches the little room he’s been staying in with Evbo (unfortunately). Did his water bucket spill or something? Idiot.
Seawatt peers into the room, and he feels like he’s going to throw up.
Evbo’s sitting in the corner, back to Seawatt and a scrap of metal in his hands. He’s wearing his champion boots, which he really shouldn’t be doing. Seawatt watches as he drags the metal across his forearm, splitting it open to his elbow.
Seawatt’s grabbing Evbo’s hand before his brain is processing what’s happening.
“What are you doing?!” Seawatt shouts, more out of fear than anger. His heart is hammering so loud he’s sure Evbo can hear it, rhythmic pounding against his ribs so hard he wonders if they’ll crack. But Evbo doesn’t even look away from his arm, blond bangs hiding any expression he might have, and Seawatt follows his gaze to watch as Evbo’s arm just… heals. There’s a faint mark under the blood, and Evbo wipes that off with his sleeve, clearly already soaked through with blood. There’s a lot of marks, actually.
“What the fuck,” Seawatt whispers, because is he supposed to say?
“Have you ever wondered,” Evbo mumbles, “why you exist?”
“Of course. I– Evbo, what the hell is going on?”
“I don’t think I should.” He blinks at the ground, watching the blood seep between the cracks in the ground. “Exist, I mean. It’s wrong. This is wrong and I have to keep going. I can’t stop.”
“You could,” Seawatt says, half-selfishly. “You can always just stop.”
“And then what? I’m stuck on a layer where everyone hates me. I didn’t do anything to these people. I don’t know them. All I’ve done is try my best. Was it really that selfish of me to want a better life?” Evbo blinks at Seawatt, his green eyes watery. Seawatt’s taken aback— he’s never seen Evbo be anything other than cheery or snarky. This was such a turnaround from anything about Evbo that Seawatt knew.
“I guess you’re right,” Seawatt muses.
“I didn’t want this to happen. I never wanted any of this.” He sniffles. “I wanted to be champion, sure, everyone does— I didn’t want this.”
“I know,” Seawatt says, releasing his grip on Evbo’s arm. He carefully plucks the metal scrap from Evbo’s hand, who surprisingly lets him. “It’s just how things happen sometimes. It doesn’t always go how we want.”
“And I know that. Of course I knew that.” Evbo runs a hand through his hair— he isn’t wearing his headband, Seawatt notices— “But this is too much. I just… I wanted to see what would happen. With the champion boots. It doesn’t work, obviously. But I… I wanted to feel something.” He rubs at his eyes. “God, I’m awful, aren’t I?”
“No, hey– ugh,” Seawatt winces. He’s SO out of his element here. “It… look, man, I… I don’t really know what to tell you.”
“It’s fine.” Evbo leans back against the wall, rolling his sleeve down.
“I mean, it clearly isn’t. I just…” Seawatt leans back as well, staring at the ceiling. “I get it. Kind of. A little. It’s different, but like… kind of the same.”
“What, did you rank up too? Surprised I haven’t heard about that yet.” Evbo’s got some of that snark back, which is good– Seawatt has to keep talking.
“Something like that,” he says, really not wanting to elaborate. “I dunno. I get not feeling like the place you’re at is where you should be. I don’t know if it gets better or easier or anything of the things you want to hear. But I get it.”
“That’s enough, I think.” Evbo pauses. “I don’t know if I like being understood by you.”
“Okay, asshole,” Seawatt snorts before he thinks better of it, but Evbo smiles faintly.
“You’re just so… evil.”
“You’re supposed to find me cool and relatable and less evil now!” Seawatt exclaims, lightly pushing Evbo’s shoulder. His hand lingers a little too long, and as Evbo laughs, he leans into Seawatt’s shoulder.
“Seawatt?” he asks, voice quiet.
“Yeah?” Seawatt replies, trying to process what Evbo’s doing. Why is his head on his shoulder? Why is his heart beating fast again?
“Do you think we’re gonna make it out of here?”
Seawatt feels this weird mixture of rage and guilt. We. He feels sick.
“Yeah, dude. We’ll make it out.”
The sun sets beyond the horizon in silence, and nobody moves.