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For all the energy I spent hating you, I’d give anything for a second chance to make it right

Summary:

Subspace is dead? Not surprising. But a new pastel pink inphernal has popped up in crossroads, and Medkit is about to have a meet cute with him, while still mourning the loss of Subspace with no one to share his pain with.

Notes:

This fic is silly. It’s 3am. I’m a grown adult. I could be drinking or doing drugd I guess. So maybe it’s okay that I do these when I feel conflicted feelings or guilt or upset.

Comment/kudos to let me know if you want extra chapters like their dates or their text convos or their previous relationship, I’ll do it if inspired, NO PROMISES, if work comes a calling I get to answering :) but I’d love to write more if Ik someone will read it

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

Work Text:

Subspace Tripmine, revered by many, known across all Inpherno, Blackrock’s greatest, father of all Biografts past, present and future.

 

Is what it would have said, if Subspace had anyone who would care to write a headstone for him. As such, it was written by Subspace himself, of course. On to his new life as disgustingly pastel and cutesie Easter Basket, a carefully planned personality crafted to cause him minimal stress, meant to slow the rot greatly so he could continue to exist and mentor a proper successor. His plan had been to watch Blackrock become the greatest from the shadows, leaving his apprentices notes when he absolutely had to intervene… yet as soon as he stagnated he relaxed, just a little. Still, it wasn’t unproductive! Dying first would mean Medkit would win. He wouldn’t allow that disgrace to his image. Never. So he remained, living in an apartment in Crossroads near Rocket, pretending not to know the kid from dodging his gear in the arena and going about his day as a… reader of books.

Now, Subspace liked reading. Scientific journals mostly, but he also found himself enamoured with stories of grandeur, to his great surprise. That’s how he found himself in a book club, through his silly neighbours who saw him as an older inphernal than themselves. Vinestaff had brought him after watching him stay buried in the epic of Gilgamesh on his balcony, and so there he was. The cafe was lovely enough, clear air and not a lot of foot traffic this time of day. Subspace was wearing a differently shaped respirator and a prosthetic for the rotted side of his face, slipping neatly over the affected area and letting him look almost normal. Almost. Stickers he’d bought on a whim littered his face anyway, distracting from anyone who might recognise his features. So there he sat, politely taking book suggestions and sampling sweets pretending to taste everything they placed in front of him.

 

Medkit meanwhile, was commuting home after work. While he was far too indispensable to get much beyond a scolding, the recent death of one Subspace Tripmine meant he was getting sloppy, moving slower and in a sour mood when he popped into a cafe to try cheer himself up. A pastry, triple strength coffee, and the cute pastel inphernal who had fallen out of a chair at the sight of him. What a weirdo. He crouches to help them up and when they lock eyes (2 total unless you count subspace’s fake) he does a double take.

 

Feelings he hasn’t felt for so many years brought to the surface by this person. They were pretty yes, but not exceptional right? Right? Medkit brushed it aside and walked out, leaving his tie clasp there.

 

Meanwhile in the cafe, the book club is squealing over the implication.

“Awwww! Did you see how he looked at you?! You better return the tie clip yourself, come on.”

 

“It’s not a good idea. At all. How about… you do it, Vine?”

But suddenly Vinestaff had gone to the bathroom while he wasn’t looking. So off he went to return the tie clasp. Medkit was outside waiting for the bus, thankfully.

 

“You left this in the cafe.” Subspace turns around to leave, face carefully angled away, trying to not flinch at the brush of gloved fingers. But when he sneaks a little peek, he finds Medkit absent mindedly holding the clasp over his chest, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Subspace does his best not to break into a run.

“Wait.”

Phuck. He’s been found out. He’s going to be murdered here and now. He didn’t even bring his gear, just a stupid basket and a book bag and—

“I haven’t seen you around before…”

Maybe he could salvage this?

“I’m Easter Basket. I’m… uh… new in town.” He watches Medkit hold his gaze without looking away in disgust for the first time in living memory. When he’s about to just bolt Medkit says,

“Then… you’ll need someone to show you around. To the nicer places. I can do that for you if you like.” Swords when did Medkit get so flirty!? It would be suspicious to refuse right?

 

“Fine— yes— sorry, thank you. I appreciate it.”

 

That’s how he, so called genius of all time, agreed to a date with someone who not only knew him most of anyone (not that that’s saying much ngl) but would kill him on the spot if he was found out. Nice going, Subspace.

 

The cute demon had actually said yes. Medkit had offered out of politeness but now he found he didn’t mind. Looking through local eateries, imagining going with someone who wasn’t related to work or his brother Sword (though he loved Sword) and just enjoying himself. Soon enough he’d realised he never got the man’s number. But he knew Vinestaff, and she had been at the cafe at the time, had walked right past him on his way out. Scrolling through her socials he found exactly what book club she’d gone to, and the members list. It wasn’t stalking, he reasoned, he just needed to make good on an arrangement. So he checked the one with the cute pink profile theme and there he was. One dry text later, he had a date to get ready for.

Stopping outside the restaurant and leaning against the wall to smooth his suit down, he pricked his ears as he heard someone talking from just around the corner.

“You’ll be fine! Knock ‘em dead, Cutie!” That was Slingshot and… Skateboard of all people, hyping someone up. Rounding the corner, in glorious pastels and fluffy leg warmers, just the demon he wanted to see. He racks his brains for a suave opener, he hadn’t even come close to dating since Subspa— best not to think about that… don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. Don’t let him ruin this… you don’t miss him, Medkit. You do(n’t), you’ll never see him again. He died not knowing you never moved on, how pathetic is that? You’ll pine over him the rest of your life—

“Hi. Thanks for inviting me… I’m happy to be here” lured back to reality by that voice… time for that suave opening he’d saved up…

“Cutie huh? Is that your real name?” His flirting could use work, sue him. But this cute guy looks a little like Subspace too…cutie…space..?

So the date goes smoothly and sweetly, so does the next, and the one after. Months go by, the weight of losing Subspace without being able to get closure weigh a little less heavily, and he grows closer to Cutie, now unofficially his to call by that name. But this next one would be the best yet, Medkit reasoned, because he was thinking of asking Cutie out this time. As soon as he went to pick him up he was so nervous he blurted “Will you go out with me?”

To his surprise Cutie flushed and beamed like he’d been given the world, then froze, and seemed to crumple like a crushed can.

“I- I can’t…”

 

Ouch. Medkit didn’t think lightning could strike twice…

 

“I… okay… I understand. Is it okay… if I ask why?” His chest hurt. So badly. More than getting shot, or getting ulted, or-

 

Subspace takes in a big breath, trying to seem cold. It would be so easy for him just a few months ago. But for some reason he knows he can only put up a farce.

“You think you want me. From afar, I’m really easy to want… but you don’t. I know you don’t want me.” Subspace sniffles. Like Hellfire, it hurt. He was falling steadily for the first person who had showed him kindness and expected nothing in return, the one who always had, coldly but always giving. And just what he had given, or rather taken, in return? His eye. The twin mirror of that pretty ocean eye, all because he couldn’t control his emotions. But all Medkit says is,

“You can’t know that… I wouldn’t ask you that question if I didn’t want you.”,

 

The hardest thing Subspace has ever done… harder even than reconciling with what he’d done to Medkit before WAS rejecting him, breaking his heart a second time. “I… I do know. Trust me. Please… I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again.” Subspace rubbed at his horn, an anxious tick, and pastel pink began to slough off in his hand. He pushed harder, until the first layer on his horn flaked and peeled away. When he realised, it was too late.

 

… “Wait…. Subspace…?”

 

All he can do is beg for forgiveness. For everything. Not that Medkit will know it. Medkit will think he’s just out to save his own ass, as always. And who could blame him? That’s what he had done when it mattered, attack, lash out, and run away and avoid the issue.

“Wait, I can explain! Please don’t shoot me… I…” he trails off— Medkit is cradling his broken side, finger sliding under the prosthetic, loosening the adhesive gently, and off it goes. Gone—just like that— exposing the rot back to the world.

 

“Subspace… you were dead. I mourned you! You asshole! I mourned you!” Medkit is pushing at his chest weakly, resolutely broken, beyond tears, but hallowed by a deep seated, lifelong longing for his destined other half. Subspace waits, half out of obligation and half because he doesn’t know what to do himself. Weakened, Medkit soon slumps into Sub’s arms, and not knowing what else to do, Subspace takes a leaf from Vinestaff’s book and guides them inside, pours some expensive tea, and they talk for hours… lost between every emotion possible, caught up in a heartbreak and enduring love only they can ever fully understand. Animosity, infatuation, obsession, attraction, jealousy… a tangled mess, finally unraveling after all those years of gaining weight.

 

“Are you mad at me?” Subspace mumbles.

“I am. But… I’m always mad when it comes to you. In every way, to be quite honest.”

“Hey. I’m the mad scientist between us, Meddy!”

“Sorry. I just missed you… a lot. Swords I… hit me. I never thought I’d say that aloud.”

“Awww! You really did never get over me~ how could you have… who could understand you anywhere near how I do?!”

“…no one. I’m glad you’re alive, Subspace…”

“I’m glad too… because now I get to do this…”

“Properly?”

“… you’ve waited 8 years on a dream that I’d do it properly, Meddy… I can try. But you’ll let me do it unconventionally too right?”

“As long as it’s you. I… yeah. Anything.”

“Aww. I love you too, I mean it you know… seeing you every week and eating and holding your hand made me miss you so much. I… I’m sorry. For everything.”

“It wasn’t solely your fault.”

“Even then, I shouldn’t have let Blackrock blind me. I’m better than that, you know it. You were right to leave…”

“I didn’t want to leave you, Subspace.”

“I know. So I made you…”

 

“You made— you meant to push me away? That night? I… okay… let’s… let’s talk about that another time please? I’m tired…”

 

“Tired? Okay… I won’t tease… just come here. I don’t bite.”

 

“Subspace? Since when do you do hugs?”

 

“Since… now. Since Cutie…space. Do you like it? The pastel pink… you said you hated neon pinks when we met and—“

 

“You didn’t have to change for me to like you. I always did. In a way. Even when we fought I liked a little part of you.”

 

“Could’ve fooled me, Meddy. Kidding, kidding!”

 

“Hey… ‘Space? Do you remember the first time we kissed? I was holding you just like this… and you made that stupid joke about the—“

 

“The control test right? I remember that. I was such a dolt. I said “What’s our variable going to be?’ Like a dumbass.”

 

“Shut the fuck UP and let me kiss you.”

 

“Yeah, you said that then too, Meddypoo-“

 

“… Hush. I’m serious. Cmon. Kiss me, ‘space…”

 

[REDACTED FOR YOUR IMAGINATION PURPOSES]

 

But when it’s all over and they fall quiet it’s because they’re cuddled together, fast asleep in Subspace’s tiny twin bed, pressed flush together and finally at rest, both wearing a smile 8 years in the making.

 

Fin. <3

Notes:

If ever you find this, Jaz, you didn’t give me closure and for that I resent you greatly. I can move on in every conceivable way, except that you did everything but tell me you didn’t want me anymore. Why should it be up to someone else to reassure me about that? You besmirch my beautiful new love because you wouldn’t say goodbye.

And if you are not jaz, please, never be a jaz. Don’t hurt someone like that. Let people move on. Let yourself move on. And for the love of god don’t tell them you might still want them constantly, get pissed when they get close to someone else, but never date them, then ghost them.