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The urge was horrific.
It was strong, potent, and threatened to drag Medkit underneath its waves every few hours. It's not as if something bad was happening to cause it, not in the span of just a few hours within his apartment. Nothing antagonized him physically, it’s not as though the Church had caused any more stress than it typically did. However, even with that said, Medkit’s mind still whirled with thoughts that didn’t sit quite right with anyone else.
The want to dig into his own skin and watch his blood welt up was running rampant. It was an urge that he’d heard criticism from within the Church— although he was never forced to stop the ‘habit.’ The most he heard was a snarky comment from Scythe, something about how ‘he was a doctor, and so he should know that it isn’t a good idea.’ Not that he cared, the remarks of others didn’t matter to him when they were repeating the obvious. Medkit knew what he was doing, definitely better than others who had the same habits. That knowledge was the very reason why he did it, as shocked as others were to find such a thing out. He knew how much pressure to put against his skin to get to a certain depth, how to handle it when the wound appeared yellow or white and white, and the best equipment for healing it.
Perhaps that knowledge was slowly hurting him, opposed to helping him nurture himself and others like it should have.
That seemed obvious, considering he was using his knowledge of skin layers and infection to cause further harm to himself. However, the damage he dealt to himself slowly increased in severity over the course of just months. It had started as mere cuts that didn’t bleed more than a few drops, to a constant risk of infection stuck upon his limbs. He had cared for each wound properly, yes, but…
An idea kept nagging at him.
The idea of letting the risk increase, to for some sick reason, allow each cut to go untreated. Perhaps it was to seek out some sort of thrill, some deep want for attention, or simply recklessness regarding his own physical health. Perhaps even he didn't fully know the reason as to why he jeopardized himself like such. Medkit didn't particularly care to figure it out, despite how alarming it may be…
Not even just that. Perhaps Medkit should have been worried when more and more thoughts of self-sabotaging behaviors sprouted in his mind. More than just cutting, that is. More permanent damage, like the thoughts which plagued his mind as he stared at his revolver, pills, or the bathtub for too long.
It'd be so easy, he told himself. It'd be so simple to just do it tonight.
He didn't know why he kept fighting against that idea. If anything, he allowed himself to indulge in those thoughts more than not. Maybe it was the fact that he needed to head off to work tomorrow, or that he simply didn't want to right now.
Just another thing he didn't know for sure. How annoying.
At least Medkit was certain about one thing. There was an action that he could always take, something that could quench those thoughts within his mind for the time being. Sure, it was a ‘bandaid fix’ as others said… but in all reality, Medkit didn't care whatsoever. He didn't pay any mind to how long the solution lasted. All that mattered to him was whether or not it worked. And, well… watching the blood roll down his skin worked better than most things.
So it was settled.
Hiding it was maybe the most annoying part of this ‘coping mechanism.’ It was horribly nuanced, as Medkit would say… different areas would give him the depth that he desired, but others were easier to keep under wraps. He found the depth he got on his forearms far more desirable, considering the smaller amount of body mass. However, it was much easier to keep his wounds hidden if they were upon his legs.
Now, as much as he wanted to say he had given up on hiding it (considering he knew how… risky it was to slice his own wrists open, in more than just one way), that would be a blatant lie. He kept a hand awkwardly pressed against his sleeve, holding it down against the wound— both to catch any lingering blood, and to prevent his sleeve from riding up and revealing the cut. blood, as well as to prevent the sleeve from riding up and revealing the cut to the world. Albeit, this action only made it more obvious that something was amiss. Medkit realized this, and thus came to a conclusion because of it; he just needed to get out of the bathroom and into his room without being spotted by Boombox.
Easy enough, right? Sure, the apartment wasn’t the biggest thing in the world, and it was really shitty timing to cut himself while his partner was over…
But Medkit’s apathy overtook him once more. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the horror that may spread across Boombox’s face, his emotions visible despite the visor blocking his eyes. All he needed was this right now. He needed to bleed in order to get at least some comfort, no matter what everyone else thought. He’d handle the reaction of his partner later, he’d come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t hide this forever soon enough. Right now, he just wanted to indulge in these tendencies of his.
…
But a voice ripped him from his thoughts, right as he pushed the door to his room open with a gentle creak.
“Medkit!”
He jumped. That didn’t go unnoticed, as much as Medkit would have preferred for it to. He slowly glanced over, any efforts to hide that look on his face not working nearly as well as he hoped.
Medkit didn’t take any further steps into his room. He loosened his grip on the door handle, allowing it to remain awkwardly cracked open. All he could do was stand there, frozen in place… facing the realization that he couldn’t hide a lot sooner than he had expected.
He made no move to cover his wrist, or more accurately, the bloodied sleeve. It’s not as if Boombox had seen the wound itself just yet, but he was sure that the stained fabric already told the other more than enough. It wasn’t worth trying to hide something that had already been seen, not when the perceived consequences would be the same regardless. The same unavoidable lecture, the same scoldings that he would never truly take to heart knowing the reason he cut into his own skin. Everything he was warned of was the very reason he destroyed himself like this, although he could never say that to those so worried about him. For whatever reason they had. He was certain they’d assume he was crazy.
Especially Boombox.
He didn’t want to risk straining their relationship just because Medkit admitted he was some madman, so he simply didn’t. All that he could do was sit and wait for the lecture, and act as if he was oh so willing to accept the help that he had refused in the past. Help that he wasn’t ready to accept, not when it…
…when it felt so good to bleed like this. Like the thrill didn’t send some sick sense of joy from it.
There was no more time to dwell on how this sick addiction made him feel, not when Boombox finally opened his mouth to speak. Medkit just ‘braced for impact,’ one could say.
“...Medkit,” Boombox began, his voice almost too gentle for something like this, “hey…”
The Inphernal in question simply watched as Boombox approached, the latter taking slow steps as if he were trying to approach some wounded animal. All Medkit could do was hope that wasn’t how Boombox saw him. Some vulnerable, pathetic, wounded thing that needed healing. That’s not what he was at all, surely.
Boombox seemed to think about his actions before carrying them out, judging by each little pause before he took another step forward, or slowly folded his hands in front of himself.
“Can I see it?”
Boombox didn't push for an answer. He didn't force or beg, perhaps hoping to not put any more pressure on Medkit than he needed at the moment.
Even if Medkit didn't vocalize it, he appreciated it. Perhaps he didn't need to say it outright, based on how Boombox's expression softened. Boombox was always awfully good at analyzing every little micro-expression, at knowing what to say in serious situations like this.
Medkit wished he could bring himself to speak right now. As much as he wanted to dump all of his gratitude onto Boombox, rather than let himself be all pessimistic and vulnerable around him… he simply couldn't open his mouth and get the words out. They were caught in his throat, as if some tiny insect caught in a web. Of course Medkit trusted Boombox, it wasn't a question as to whether or not he thought it'd be safe to, but…
That didn't make it any easier to allow himself to be vulnerable as such. Even if he was actively fighting against the reactions to stress coming from his body.
Medkit simply nodded. He didn’t want to see Boombox’s expression, not as he rolled up his stained sleeve.
Rationally, he knew oh so well that Boombox wouldn’t hate him for this. He never did, no matter how many times he saw new marks littering Medkit’s arms. Each relapse was met with patience and immense kindness, even if Medkit couldn’t understand why.
There was no reason for him to think so anxiously about his partner. Boombox loved him, and he reminded himself of that over and over and over. But when did emotions ever listen to rationale?
“Medkit…”
The simple use of his name was all he knew about Boombox’s reaction, considering he wasn’t willing to look him in the eyes (well, as much as possible thanks to that visor). He just kept his sleeve pulled up, allowing for Boombox to gently take the injured arm into his gentle hands. It’s not as if he was the doctor, but… obviously that didn’t stop Boombox from being concerned over this. He didn’t have to know the exact terminology for how deep Medkit had stuck his blade into his own flesh, he didn’t have to know the probability for infection that this thing had. Not that any of those were at the forefront of his mind.
Medkit knew that well. Boombox was his complete opposite. He handled things sincerely and with care, as if constantly caring for some tiny wounded animal. A stark contrast to Medkit’s clinical detachment, and how he would never trace his fingers almost reverently across a wound as Boombox did.
“Do you need to talk about anything?” Boombox questioned, lifting his head as if to look into Medkit’s eyes instead of the bloody gash on his arm.
There was no disgust in his words. No sign of wariness or horror that wasn’t out of pure concern for Medkit’s wellbeing. It was known (and rather obvious) that Boombox wasn’t the kind of person to judge a habit like this, and he certainly had never done so in the past. Medkit should have known better than to expect the worst like this, but…
He just couldn’t stop his mind when it began to spiral. Not when he was often so determined to handle things on his own.
Medkit didn’t respond to Boombox at first. Not verbally nor physically, as he took his time deciding what he wanted. His first instinct was to shake his head, to hiss about how he was overreacting and that he could take care of everything on his own. But he needed a moment to allow himself to break past those paranoid, irrational thoughts. He was lucky that Boombox understood that, and didn’t push for some quicker response.
Boombox simply remained with that gentle smile until Medkit was ready. It didn’t falter as Medkit slowly glanced back up at him; if anything, it just grew softer.
Medkit just gave a slow, almost hesitant shake of his head. But that wasn’t all that he responded with, not as he could finally squeeze the words from his shaking lips.
“Please stay with me,” he choked out, his hand trying to intertwine with Boombox’s.
A desperate attempt to ground himself, really. As uncharacteristic as it was, it’s all that he could think of. It’s all that he wanted, in all honesty. Medkit wasn’t one to reach out for this, not in such a pathetic way. But he couldn’t just let himself handle this on his own this time, as much as his instincts screamed at him to shy away and tear his hand out of Boombox’s grasp. What else was he supposed to do? Retreat into the confines of his room, and allow those horrible thoughts and urges to entrap him? Especially when a presence so comforting stood right in front of him.
Medkit didn’t expect Boombox’s expression to change much. Of course, he nodded in acknowledgement, but Boombox hadn’t looked as if he was pitying Medkit or, for whatever reason, viewing him as weak. There was no reason for him to, but… the thought never did fully leave Medkit’s mind.
“Yeah,” Boombox hummed out, “how about we go get this cleaned up, alright?”
Medkit nodded in return, finally keeping his eye on Boombox opposed to the flooring.
The pair of them were currently sat on Boombox’s hammock, his gentle hands carefully wrapping a bandage around the gaping wound on Medkit’s arm. As much as the latter wanted to argue with the treatment, to complain about how excessive it was for something so small by his standards… he kept his mouth shut.
Boombox had since discarded his visor on a nearby nightstand, allowing Medkit to get a better view of the concern spread across his partner's face. It was that very expression that didn’t let Medkit mutter his annoyances with this beneath his breath. That, paired with how he was the one who asked for company… The least he could expect was that Boombox would want to care for him. That was just his nature, was it not? Always so selfless, unwilling to let such a large hole within someone (albeit, physically this time) go without mending. Perhaps even if Medkit did argue, it’d be impossible to ever convince Boombox that it truly ‘wasn’t a big deal.’
As Boombox cautiously coiled the bandage around the cut, his gaze slowly traveled up to Medkit’s face. Not to strike up conversation, such would be inappropriate at this moment… but to assess how Medkit was feeling. Medkit was never the most expressive person, but that look in his eye said more than his words ever could. That emptiness, as if staring into a void instead of the eye of an Inphernal.
Nothing was said between the two, yet it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Not as Boombox continued to smile kindly, or how he began to hum softly to the two of them. It took longer than it should have—bandaging Medkit’s arm—thanks to Boombox being overly cautious with his care. Medkit couldn’t help but scoff. This could have been so much more efficient, but… perhaps that was too much to expect of Boombox. After all, Boombox was almost sickeningly gentle. Too caring, too kind to Medkit. It was somewhat irritating, in all honesty. Not because Boombox was annoying or anything, not enough to outweigh the adoration he had developed over time, but… it was more regarding who Medkit knew himself to be.
Someone actively engaging in the crimes of a cult, regardless of how much he wanted to believe that it was beneficial, and returning some autonomy to him. Boombox knew all of this, and yet, he was so kind. He took the time to carefully wrap a bandage around a self-inflicted wound, instead of allowing him to run and hide and let a possible infection fester. Medkit didn’t think he could ever wrap his head around his partner’s actions, let alone his thought process. Why would Boombox ever care for him, despite knowing every single atrocity that he had committed in his lifetime? Of course he knew that Boombox didn’t condone any of it, such as ripping out an old co-workers eye…
And yet, Boombox still cared for Medkit like this. Both physically and emotionally, no matter how much it confused the latter.
“Medkit,” Boombox spoke gently, rousing the Inphernal in question from his thoughts.
“...You okay? You look a little upset…”
You’d think that with all of the years that Medkit had spent masking his… more extreme emotions, he'd be capable of hiding it from Boombox.
However, nothing escapes Boombox's eyes. He always had a knack for this sort of thing…
“It's nothing I want to talk about,” Medkit spoke bluntly, leaving no room for argument.
Boombox wasn't exactly the kind to argue against something like that, but still—Medkit felt as though he had to let it be known. Perhaps some sort of stupid defense mechanism, one that he didn't even need at this moment. He didn't perceive Boombox as a threat, not one little bit, but it isn't exactly easy to make your knowledge get on the same page as your emotions…
Boombox just nodded. Medkit hadn't expected anything less, much to his relief. Rationally, he didn't need to be so worked up around his own partner, but… as said before, you can't simply wish your feelings and the body's reaction to them away. Regardless of how much Medkit wished that he could.
“How about this,” Boombox began, dragging Medkit out of his pathetic thoughts once more.
“I've been eyeing Thieves Rest lately. Have you seen the new little parfaits they have? Man, those things are so cute!” He began. “They've been advertising them like crazy around Crossroads, but I think it's for good reason,”
Medkit simply shook his head in response, but didn't take his eyes off the Inphernal before him.
“Oh, dude! They put a little ice cream scoop in it, and make it look like a little cat! Pretty cute, huh?” He smiled warmly, lightly patting Medkit's arm as he decided he was finished mending to it. “I'm sure we could just get you that coffee you like either way! In my opinion, I think we deserve something nice like that,”
Medkit couldn't bring himself to speak, as annoying as it was. Flickering between choking his words out, and every syllable getting caught in his throat… but he still did his best to communicate through the use of a nod.
A soft, horribly subtle smile crept onto his own lips as he watched Boombox's expand, a look that bordered on gratitude crossed the latter's face.
“Yes! Thank you, Med!” He chirped, “you know, I really don't think it'd be too busy today. Good for a lot of reasons, if you think about it! Wouldn't be super overwhelming with all of the people, Slingshot probably won't be in a bad mood, you'll actually have time to look at the menu…”
Boombox continued, seemingly with no end to the ramblings in sight. Medkit simply let Boombox continue to prattle on, his eager words filling the otherwise silent room. Maybe this was a better way around it.
This very moment drowned out those thoughts better than a cold, steel blade did.
He'd have to keep that in mind for next time.