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The ceiling, just like everything else, melted into one big, dull, grey blob.
It wasn't interesting. It didn't have any particular flare to it that caught Earth's attention. It was just there. Holding up the roof, enclosing Earth inside the cage he built for himself.
He would look away if he could. The sameness of it drove his mind crazy, the side of him that always needed something bouncing off the walls with endless bounds of energy. Hm, yeah he wished he had that. He wished he could move, heave himself off the bed and rejoin everyone else in the other room.
He could hear their voices. The high pitched squeal of Mercury, the low, rumbly groan of Venus, the slam of the door as the two left for something Earth planned. He didn't remember what, but they were leaving so that's good. They should go have fun.
There was also Mars' beautiful laugh. Luna's bright, bubbly giggle. It–just like every other sound–was muted, and the walls blocked out the actual words, turning them into a soup of gibberish.
But the two sounded like they were having fun.
Good for them.
Earth was happy he did something right. Going down here was supposed to be fun, it was supposed to be a break from the chaos and mayhem they were all put through. Earth was so excited, he'd planned out the week, making sure everybody got what they wanted to do. It was going to be amazing.
But now, it was only the second day, and Earth couldn't get out of bed.
Yay.
At least it was still early. Probably. There was a clock somewhere in the room, Earth could hear the ticking of the hands as every second, minute, hour went by, but he couldn't raise his head to look. He wanted to, with every fiber in his being he wanted to get up and stop being such a lazy bum…but he just couldn't.
It was too heavy. Everything.
The thick, fluffy blanket pushed Earth deep into the bed, and he knew it wasn't actually that heavy. He'd bought it in the first place because he couldn't stand weighted blankets. They pressed down on his skin, suffocating him, wrapping around him like it could swallow him whole at any second. Too weak, too exhausted, too little to just take it off.
It was impossible to get out of bed with a weighted blanket.
So it shouldn't be for Earth. Because this isn't a weighted blanket. It's a normal one that's light and fluffy.
And yet, despite his insistent screaming for them to move, his limbs stayed glued to the mattress. He could feel the fitted sheet beneath him, the slightly scratchy texture of it sending the bad energy buzzing in his ears. He could feel the pressure of his own body sinking into the mattress, his tangled, greasy hair falling into his eyes.
He could feel everything, and yet nothing.
There was a…a sense of emptiness aching inside of him. Something he needed–no, wanted–but was taken from him. It was a part of his daily life. He couldn't live without it. Its absence sat like a hole in his heart, dragging down his heart into the pit of despair. Where did it go? Why did it leave? What did Earth do to scare it off?
Why couldn't he just be happy?
He's tried. He's tried so hard. He listened to everything Mercury said, did everything right, felt better than he'd ever had in billions of years. Mercury was proud of him, he'd said, proud of how far he'd come and how successful he was in his recovery. Luna had agreed, adding with that sparkle in his eyes that he's so happy to have his brother back.
But Earth failed.
He failed them all.
What use was he if that's all he could do? Fail over and over and over again, gain their trust, hope, love–and then break it in less than a second. All that work, all the love they gave him, completely wasted because Earth couldn't learn.
Hey, at least with being stuck in this paralysis he couldn't grab a knife and slice himself open.
…shit wait no that's a bad thought. Very, very bad–Mercury said not to listen to those. They were evil and lied and he shouldn't self harm. Even if it's just a thought, it's still bad. He–he shouldn't be–he's sorry.
There's nobody but him in the room, but he's still sorry.
He should've been better. He should've snapped himself out of this when he recognized the early signs, and not have gone to bed hoping it would be fine. Hope didn't get you anywhere. It was useless without actions to back it up. Earth had hoped so many times that this time it would be the last.
Only for it to happen again, and shatter that fragile strand holding everything together.
He needed to be stronger. Better. Enough. What is he doing lying around? He's ruining the day for everyone else. They have their own problems–ones they should've acknowledged but haven't because Earth has been hogging all the attention. Oh–oh wait no–
Something could be wrong with his friends, and they were ignoring their own needs to tend to Earth's.
Stars. Oh shit that's not good. He can't–he can't be the reason someone gets hurt. He knows how bad it can get, he can't let that happen to anyone else. His emotions are his problem, not anyone else's.
Stars above…has he been taking advantage of his friends?!
Oh my god–no, no he's–please no. He never meant to–they're always there for him!
But where is he when they need help?
No–no wait. He isn't. He's never there. He'd left Mercury to deal with Venus and Mars when they got beat up by the moons because of the Earth! He constantly bullied and neglected Luna for billions of years because Earth was too stuck up his own ass about his Earthlings. He–stars Venus said it to their face that he hates himself!
Why didn't Earth do anything?
His friends support him so much, but when they need the same love, Earth abandoned them.
What kind of a person does that? They all talked about their insecurities and feelings, and yet it was never brought up again. And Earth didn't question it. He just kept taking and taking and taking and not wondering whether they needed help too.
Just imagining Venus in the same position Earth was in, but alone and isolated with nobody to lean back on, sent vines viciously tightening around Earth's heart.
He–stars, he did this. He caused them not to be able to get help. It was always "oh Earth is struggling, let's go help him!" or "Earth feels down, let's cheer him up!" but never, ever what the other Rockies were feeling. Or Luna–
Luna.
Pressure built up behind his eyes, choking his breaths with a hitched whimper. No. No no no no–did Luna ever…did he–
Luna never talked about his problems.
Luna never reached out.
It was always Earth. Earth needs help, Earth needs support, Earth needs Luna to stabilize his axis and protect him from asteroids and stop Earth from killing himself.
Having to do that would traumatize anyone.
Earth traumatized Luna.
Oh stars–oh oh okay then. Uhm well. Hm. Does he–what does he…he can't. He can't make it up. He can't fix what he broke.
It's all his fault.
No no no, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm–
The pillow he laid upon darkened, tears staining the silky fabric. The already cracking dam finally burst, his vision blurring with the wet, sticky tears streaking down his cheeks, and yet there was nothing to see in the room except for darkness. Good. Good–darkness was good. He was alone. Nobody could see him cry. Nobody could sacrifice themselves just to help him get over his silly little feelings.
His eyes burned, the pressure behind them rising and expanding and pushing out more sobs. Ugly, pathetic whimpers slipped from his lips–no no no no he can't let them hear. He–he can't. If they hear him they'll help. And he can't let them do that.
They've done so much for him already, but what has Earth done in return?
Nothing.
Tears flowed more strongly now, spilling out from that little place where Earth kept everything under control, falling down like waterfalls and carving paths in the greasy, dirty skin. His breaths hitched, throat choking with every new, overwhelming sob that ripped through his body.
He–he stars–he can't do this anymore. He can't be the problem. He can't be the reason–
The reason…the reason that…
Someone hurts themselves.
Luna–or, or Mercury or Venus or Mars–he's been a burden on all of them. Earth gave them his problems and never did anything to make sure they were okay after.
When–when was the last time he actually thanked them?
A horrified, choking sound split from his throat when he realized he hasn't. It's just–how, how did he brush over it? How did he think it was going to be a given? It was–was it just something normal that they dealt with every day? Is that what he thought? That the–stars how was he so naive?
How did he not think about them? How–how did he not think what they were going through? Was he really so self absorbed? Again?
He–no no please it always happens. His ego got too big again. He ruined everything. No wonder they're all leaving him alone. Good. That's good. Leave him alone so they can take care of themselves.
Stars, they shouldn't be here.
Not…not when Earth, stars he was hurting them! Every single day, with burdening–burdening them. Shoving his problems in their face and just expecting they fix it.
He hurt his friends on the daily.
And they just let him.
No. No he–stars he can't do that to them. He already hurt them once–it please–it can't happen again. Venus and Mars got injured. Because of the moons. The moons that Earth pissed off. How did he–how did they even want to be around him anymore?!
He'd manipulated them. He must've. He–oh stars no he used them. And for what? To gain attention? Have the spotlight?
He'd never changed.
Earth was–everything was for nothing. All that love and care and work put into getting him better, and he was still the same old, arrogant, self-centered jerk.
He should just die.
It would be easier for everyone if he did. No advice Mercury could give him, nothing said so sweet and soft from Luna could fix it this time. Look at him. Just good ol' Earth. Returning back like nothing ever happened. Completely ignoring and destroying all the work put in to make him better. He had the spotlight again, all eyes never leaving him.
Was he happy? He got what he wanted, didn't he?
And yet the tears just kept on flowing.
Stupid, ungrateful Earth.
He had everything, and yet he wanted nothing.
How many people can say that? How many people can say they have wonderful friends–family that helps and supports him at his lowest? He–wow uhm okay he has it all, doesn't he? He has therapy, love, meds that lessen the chaos of his mind, and feels safe.
There are so many people who don't have that.
Earth knew–oh boy he knew just how horrible some people's lives are. For his Earthlings, but also the celestials in his very own Solar System! For peet's sake, from the little bit he knows about the planet, Neptune is in a much worse state than Earth is.
And yet he doesn't get the same treatment as Earth. He needs more and…and he should have that! Everyone should! If they're suffering, they should get help
But for some twisted reason, it seemed like Earth was the only one who got it.
And he didn't even deserve it.
He didn't deserve any of this. There are people out there who need love and help far more than he could ever imagine.
His Earthlings, for one.
Just the reminder of his beloved life forms suffering so much on a day to day basis tore through his mind like wildfire, spreading and raging and igniting every thought into flames. He tasted blood, and yet Earth didn't stop biting down on his lip, keeping all the chaos and overwhelm and sadness inside.
Keep it inside this room, and nobody will know.
…but just–just why? Why did Earth get that special treatment? What was so special about him that he got what so many others didn't?
Every day–every single stars-damned day, Earth felt everything that happened on his surface. Every insult thrown, every act of abuse, neglect, hate–all of it. He, oh god he'd seen things he never wanted to see. Messed up, horrible, brutal things, all because someone was different.
Why was he the outlier? He was queer and neurodivergent and disabled just like some of his humans–why couldn't they have it good like he does? And like, stars he's not even that bad! He was accepted without a second thought, something that is so foreign to some people. His Earthlings have it way worse than him. They're struggling and hurting so so much because they just can't get the help or support or just some goddamn love.
When so many others never got the chance, why was Earth the one to get it?
He didn't want to be better. There were people out there who deserve it so much more than him. Children–oh stars, the children. They were just kids, innocent and sweet, and yet they were born into a world of hate–they should be the ones getting what he has. Not constantly being mistreated and abused, problems ignored because they don't have people who care or will listen to them.
Earth didn't want to be one of the lucky ones.
Guilt and shame crawled up his throat, burning like fire in his chest. Why? Why–why couldn't he just have died? Mercury and Venus and Mars and Luna–they shouldn't have cared. Earth was mean and–and yeah, he deserved everything. Every scar, every drop of blood spilt–stars, wait no, bad thought–
But it was true.
He deserved to feel horrible. Everyone else deserved to have the love and care he selfishly hoarded.
A shudder ran through his body, eyes achy and still wet, his face all sticky and ew and disgusting–oh he must look awful. Eh, oh well. No surprise there. He's just rotten inside and out. Better to recognize it now than continue ignoring the truth.
Earth sucked.
His eyes fluttered back up to the ceiling, blinking against the wave of tears threatening to spill over, the misery settling in his chest like a heavy anchor. A shaky, broken inhale sucked air back into his lungs, exhaustion pushing Earth down, down, down and making everything feel a thousand times more heavy than before.
Except he wasn't done.
He wasn't falling asleep now. No matter how much his eyes ached and begged for some rest, he refused to let himself indulge in that niceness. Because of course he would do this! As if crying uncontrollably wasn't enough, he had to punish himself even more. Mmm wait no, that's fine. Go ahead. He needed this. He needed to be put in his place.
Nobody else is going to do it.
No rest for the wicked.
Stubbornness flared up in his mind, angry and determined to do it right this time. He had to learn. He couldn't keep making the same mistakes over and over and over again. No–stars above just no. He needed to change. Be better. Stronger. Enough.
The kindness route didn't work. They tried that, did it so many times over, and yet it failed every time. Earth just went back to square one, depressed, frustrated, and as miserable as ever.
So…it was time for a change of pace.
He'll–he'll just take matters into his own hands. Yeah, yeah! See, that'll work just fine. He managed for billions of years without anyone having to worry about him, why not just…go back to doing that?
Go back to punishing himself for every slip up.
…even if it was something Mercury would highly advise against–but it worked, didn't it? He stayed alive and sane enough to foster life and keep up the mask that everything was okay! It might just be a little bit harder now, with everything being revealed (curse you past-Earth and your moment of weakness. If you'd just continued, not looked back, not stopped when you saw the absolute panic and desperation in Luna's eyes, we wouldn't have this problem in the first place), but Earth was sure he could spin some tale to get them to go away.
He was–after all–a liar, a cheat, and a stars-damned fraud.
With another deep breath, his thoughts sharpened around the edges–sharpened like knives. An image popped into his head, of the kitchen and the little drawer that held the sharp knives, sharp enough to–
"Earth?"
Wha…
Oh no.
Oh no no no no no no please don't be–go away. See, look, he's very obviously sleeping so leave him alone. Let him rest. Turn a blind eye and go back to having fun. If they–stars if they see him they'll…
It'll be baz.
He hasn't done anything–hasn't even moved from his spot straight on his back, staring up at the ceiling with his dead eyed gaze–but they'll know. He'd been crying, there was no way to hide that. They'll suspect something is wrong and drop everything just to help Earth.
Just like always.
The door cracked open, more harsh, too-bright light pooling into the room, the sudden movement catching Earth by surprise. He winced, the sharp glare stabbing his eyes and sparking up the headache pounding in his ears. No. No they can't please. It's for their own good. They–they have to leave him. He's good for nothing, will only hurt them more, use them, lie, break promises, do bad stuff over and over and–
A shadow blocked out the light, darkness shrouding their face so even if Earth did have the energy to tilt his head, he couldn't see their face.
He didn't know what they would do.
I'm sorry, he internally screamed, the seconds seemingly stretching on for hours, his quick, labored breathing the only sound breaking the silence. I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for getting worse, I'm sorry for failing.
But please, just leave him alone so he can suffer in solitude.
The shadowy figure shifted, raising a hand–and Earth flinched.
But, instead of the angry, fiery slap Earth had suddenly expected (really? Really? Why did he think that would happen? His friends aren't like that. They wouldn't dare, is he really that dumb to think they would?), soft, oh-so gentle, feathery-light touch brushed his greasy hair aside, unveiling the curtain that hid his visage.
The figure stopped, stilling with one hand still tangled within his disgusting mop of hair, obviously seeing Earth's bloodshot, puffy eyes, the tear tracks running down his cheeks. No–no he can still salvage this. Stars please he can't…he can't put them through it all over again just because Earth failed. They were incredible and amazing and so, so, so wonderful, they shouldn't have to deal with Earth and his miserableness.
"Oh Earth…" No. Oh boy wow okay, please, do not talk to him that way. It–stars no he can't. It's too much. Far, far too much for him–why do they still love him?! Why, why, why? After everything that he's done, what did he do to deserve being talked to in that way.
Soft, wonderful, kind, patient.
He didn't. They shouldn't be doing this. Earth shouldn't be here.
Movement flashed above him, and for a split second–one, sweet glorious moment–Earth thought they were leaving. Hope, a twisted version of it that begged to be alone, to suffer in silence and relieve those around him of the burden he'd become, wormed its way into his mind.
Only for it to die as Mars crouched down beside the bed, thumb rubbing back and forth on the bigger's cheeks, gently using that to tilt Earth's head to the side. Nope. Nuh uh. He's not looking. He refuses to. Earth will not give in. It's–it's a trick! His mind is playing games on him, and if he opens his eyes he'll lose.
He'll start crying all over again if he sees how much love is shining in Mars' gaze.
A strand of his hair fell into his face as he shifted, trying to turn away, trying to bury his face into the pillow, trying to do anything to avoid this. Avoid what, you ask? Avoid the consequences of his actions of course! Stupid, stupid, selfish Earth. The moons were right. They should've killed him when they had the chance–
A cool hand cupped his cheek, rough and slightly calloused but still so soft it short-circuited his mind, Mars' voice too quiet, too soft, not enough–where was the chill, fun-loving, asteroid-dodgeball playing planet he knew? Gone. It was gone all because of Earth and his stupid need to make everyone pity him–murmered quietly, the sound too loud in the sudden expanding quietness, "Earth…come on dude. Look at me."
No.
Uhm, okay well, he'll fall asleep instead! How 'bout that? He may be avoiding talking about his problems, but who cares about that. Mars certainly shouldn't. Nobody should. He's the Earth, he'll be fine.
It's fine. It's fine. It's fine he has everything under control now. Oh–oh wait, yeah, actually it is fine! He's just overreacting over something stupid. It's okay now. He's over it.
He doesn't even remember what he was upset about. He's feeling better already! Great job Earth!
The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, and before Earth could gather enough energy and will power to push Mars away…the door creaked open again.
And oh, what a sight it must've been to walk in on this.
"E–Earth?" The shaky, startled gasp from the doorway punched Earth in the gut, the guilt burrowing deep in his chest as a whole new wave of tears threatened to burst. No. No please not him. Anyone but him. He, uhm no. No, get Earth out of here now. He's not hurting anyone else. Don't let him. He–he needs to–where? Where does he go?
There was nowhere left to hide.
Luna crossed the room in three rapid steps, using the fourth to–
Earth's eyes snapped open with a startled gasp, the bed dipping as Luna dropped onto the bed, crawling underneath the covers and tightly wrapping his arms around Earth. He–no no please, well uhm he can't. This is Earth's bed. This is Earth's problem. All Earth's, shouldn't be unloaded upon Luna. Selfish, greedy Earth needs to learn to stop.
Go away. Please.
Panic tainted his every breath, and yet his body remained a heavy, exhausted ball of trash–he can't move. He can't–but he needs to. Luna shouldn't be here, Mars should be with the others, they should both be happy. Earth being miserable shouldn't take that away from them. Earth shouldn't be the reason they can't have fun.
But he is.
A fresh batch of tears rolled down his cheeks, escaping before Earth could control them like he tried to control everything else. Neither of the two said anything, Mars just hummed and continued to run his hand through his hair, wiping away the new tears and the icky snot sticking to Earth's face. Clinging to him, Luna's hold only tightened, burying his face deeper into the bigger's chest. Since they were so close together, Earth felt the rapid tha-dump tha-dump tha-dump of Luna's heart pounding in his chest.
He did that. He made Luna worry. He made Luna sad.
How dare he.
Stupid Earth.
Someone should kill him.
Oh wait. He already tried. And failed.
Oh well then.
Weak.
Yup, he is.
Pathetic.
Not fighting against that. It's true.
Coward.
Wow. The voices in his head were spitting facts today. Thanks. He knows, don't worry. He's too afraid to die anyways. Not because of what would happen to him, but how everyone else would react. He doesn't want them dealing with that. They should never have to deal with him doing that.
They should never have to deal with him at all.
But they are. Despite everything, despite how hard he tried to push them away, they're still here. Comforting him. Giving him love and safety and a place to just cry and cry and cry until his eyes ache and his lungs scream for air.
They're not giving up on him, even if he's long since given up on himself.
Stars, he would have to face Mercury and the barrage of questions that followed. The way he talked to him, too soft and too quiet like Earth was a child or a pet, not his fellow planet. Venus probably wouldn't say anything. Hopefully. They never talk about these types of things with each other anyways. Mercury plays the therapist role to make Earth better.
Eugh, okay well nobody else got this kind of treatment even if they really, really needed it, so he should be grateful for what he has. He hates it–he hates it so much but this is his life now after messing up. Just one depressive episode, a period of time where he's relatively fine, and then another depressive spiral.
Rinse and repeat.
And so, even if he was really, really grateful for his friends coming to his aid, he wasn't ready to think about that. He was still in denial. Frustratingly insistent denial that he didn't need their love, didn't deserve it, didn't want to know someone actually cared about him. Through thick and thin, they never wanted to leave.
Shocking.
Anyways, Earth didn't sleep. Even if Luna's breaths eventually evened out, deep sighs breathing in and out as he fell asleep in his planet's arms–even if Mars encouraged it and his eyes drooped down, fatigue clinging to them after the exhausting day (even though he did absolutely nothing except drown in his own thoughts)–Earth didn't dare indulge in sleeping.
Because that would be something nice.
And the dark, angry fog clouding his mind told him he didn't deserve nice things.
So instead of sleeping, Earth retreated back into his mind, letting the fog smother everything in its choking grasp as he dissociated the pain away.
After all, it didn't hurt if nothing felt real.