Work Text:
'I will always be here for you angel, never say sorry’
A late prescription being filled out started as a tiny snowflake, minor inconveniences in your day to day life, something at the corner of your eye, the light playing tricks on you, but that's how it always starts, isn't it?
it was the mid summer, and the pharmacy y/n commutes to had been overrun by some new strain of flu, making everyone rush to get prescriptions to ease the godawful symptoms, he said he would come back later, check another day when he wasn't busy, of course. but as the meds started to wear off, he progressively believed more and more that he didn't need the meds. who would want them? i mean, he felt fantastic the voices in his head that were growing louder believed so too, and he wholeheartedly believed them, slowly going about his day with them convincing him to do one thing or the other, not anything malicious, just odd, 'tear that up' they would chime, when he had anything paper in his hands, and he did. 'eat it all' they would scream, if he saw any food, and he did. within a couple of weeks it got worse, they started telling him to do things, progressively worse, to stop the rot from leaking in.
late one evening, after work was finished y/n was sat in his bed, parousing through AO3, when he noticed a twitching out of the corner of his eye, he turned to see rot, and faces moving about in it, a physical manifestation of the voices in his head, lurking and staring at him. the eyes felt like they were boring into his skull, so he quickly got up to remove it, somehow, dragging himself to the kitchen to grab a cloth and some heavy duty cleaning spray, as he moved himself back he grabbed a chair, lugging it to the corner in which the rot was located, standing on top and scrubbing it, hard, but as he did so the rot just creeped onto him and the cloth, as he noticed he quickly dropped the cloth, watching it get consumed, along with his door.
he stepped back warily, looking down at his hand which was covered in the squirming substance, two eyes looking up at him, he moved himself to the kitchen again, grabbing bleach and a scrubber, pouring it all over his hand and scrubbing it hard, even as it stung in pain, he re applied, whincing but determined, but it didn't work, he sat on the floor, holding his wrist tight, and knees close to his chest and four voices echoed around him 'you cant get rid of us? you think its that easy?' y/n scrambled up, leaning against the counter, unspoken, heart racing.. a few minutes went by before he spoke 'how then...' but the voices only responded in distorted, malicious laughs, y/n lugged himself back to his bed, knowing he wouldn't get an answer, as he watched the rot slowly spread through his room, and slower up his hand and arm.
A couple hours went by, y/n curled up in bed, muttering to himself trying to figure out how to get the rot out of his house when a notification popped up on his pc, he looked up to see it was Micah calling, his eyes widened for a second, but he ignored it, a pang of guilt shooting through him, but it was necessary in his mind, Micah couldn't see his room like this? no, he would hate it, what if miach left him once his saw him in such a pathetic state, but the notification appeared, y/n reached for his phone, his hand feeling unbearably heavy as he did so, he downloaded the server there as well so he just declined the call, ignoring Micah's messages as he did so, dropping his phone and hand, to relive the weight.
A few minutes went by before the notification appeared again, but it went to videocall 'goddamnit' y/n muttered under his breath, pulling himself up, his body feeling as if it weighed 10 tonnes, he dragged himself to the seat in front of his pc lazily, hiding the infected hand
'hey micah...' he muttered, not looking up from the floor
'hey angelllll, you wound me angel,what you ignoring my calls for?...' Micah said, in an almost singsong voice, before noticing how y/n looked 'y/n? hey, look up at me' he said, y/n looked up at him, tired eyes meeting Micahs 'what's the matter angel? you look... drained' Micah's entire body language changed in an instant, as he saw y/n's dishevelled state, he suddenly became more observant, worried, he noticed the state of y/n's room and the twitchyness of y/n
'its nothing. im fine just... tired you know' y/n snapped back, a reflex he had gained from being so worn down so much
‘Yeah,you look fine’ Micah muttered under his breath, inaudible to y/n ‘sooo something is wrong, has your coffee ran out?’ he said teasing y/n lightly
‘No.’
‘Hm, is your fridge running?’ micah was leant on his hand watching y/ns reaction to each question closely
‘Yes? What of course it is’ y/n looked at micah confused
‘That's it! Do you want me to help come catch it? I can get my running shoes on’ y/n giggled quietly, ‘haha, i dont know how i didnt see that coming, stupid dad joke’ he said in response, unenthusiastic but it was something at least.
Micah smiled softly, ‘Seriously, what's wrong angel? i will do everything in my power to vanquish the vile beast that is haunting you!!!’ he said, in an overdramatic voice, trying to mimic a knight.
‘Nothings wrong, just… tired, i need to sleep.’ y/n responded, getting fidgety as turned his attention back to his hand, watching the writhing, rot that clung to it
‘Ok darling, well if you want to sleep im not stopping you, just message me when your awake?’ he said his voice soft.he could tell y/n was in a fragile state, his eyes darting between his keys and y/n as he pondered something
‘Yeah, bye.’ y/n hung up the call and trudged his way back to the bed, falling onto it and stared at the ceiling before he closed his eyes, dozing off.
‘He hates you’ the loud voices interrupted him, jolting him back into full consciousness
‘No, he loves me.’ y/n retorted
‘No he hates you, did you see the look in his eyes? He might as well have sung it from his window, your delusional speaking to him as if you mean something to each other’ their voices grew louder as they spoke, each speaking in unison in creepy and distorted voices
‘Shut Up you dont know what your saying’ y/n shouted, they were getting increasingly louder with each word they said, it was deafening and uncomfortable, he just wanted them to shut up, for one second shut up he moved himself to the kitchen, to at least avoid the visual reminder of them but the volume of their voices never changed
‘You think you can get away from us? We are you, you know what we are saying is true just accept it’ they belted, y/n noticed the rot spreading in his room now, fast.. Too fast, he slammed the bathroom door shut, putting towels at the bottom to avoid them getting in, completely forgetting about the rot on his hand.
He quickly fumbled through his medicine cabinet, trying to find something that may deafen the voices, he threw an empty bottle of meds he should have filled out over a month to go to the side, antibiotics, pain pills, the entire contents and his hand slipped against something inside, he winced, looking at his hand as the rot retreated from it, a blade crimson blood dripped onto the floor and the rot on his hand completely avoided it, he quickly scrambled for the blade, sitting on the floor and pulling off his shirt, knees to his chest.
He gripped it tightly as he winced at what he was going to do, but it was the only solution, the voices echoed around him as he brought the blade to skin pathetic they chanted, ‘worthless’ ‘disgusting’
And cut he dug the blade in, deep watching the blood seep out and the rot react as he did so, pulling away and squirming like a swarm of flys.
shut UP’ he said, his hands shaking with the blade deep in his arm, shaking head as if those tormenting voices would fall out ‘shut up. Shut up. Shut up’
But the voices persisted, ‘what? You think this is going to fix everything, your broken, rotten noone can love you accept that’
The voices wouldnt stop, out of control but at least he could get rid of this rot on him, he dug in again, and again, deep and with quick succession throughout the whole length of his arm and shoulder the blood pouring down his arm and trickling to the floor till the rot was fully disappeared, he stood up groggily, turning on the tap and washing off the blood as he winced in pain, watching it dilute and run down the drain.
He patted his arms down with a bit of tissue and dropped it onto the floor, along with himself as he pushed himself into a corner, pushing his knees up to his face and crying into them, he slowly dozed off, tired from the loss of blood…
A couple hours later he woke back up in his room, the rot fully consumed, making the room squirm, deep and black, but one spot there wasnt, micah, micah was there, micah saw him like this. y/n stared at him for a few minutes, unsure of what to say, what to do, he looked down at his arm that was fully bandaged, tears welling in his eyes.
Micah looked in the direction of his gaze and back up at y/n ‘oh angel…’ he said, his soft voice breaking the silence ‘How could i let you get like this… you could have told me, you know?’
y/n pulled back a little, ashamed and unspoken his eyes wide as he watched the squirming black mass, and micah leaned to where there should be a table, picking up a tiny shot glass and some water
‘You dont have to speak… but take this, have a sleep and we can talk later, if you want to ofcourse’ y/n nodded, picking the glass shakily, and swallowing dry, before taking a bit of water
Micah moved closer, his movements slow and gentle as he pulled y/n in for a cuddle, and he melted in as micah moved both of them, him leant against the headboard as he stroked y/ns hair gently watching him doze off ‘im sorry..’
‘I will always be here for you angel, don' t be sorry’ he said before y/n closed his eyes.