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Such a long journey. And so much more ahead. Too much more.
Elite half wondered if it was even worth it. Surely, everything would be unified into nothing. The ultimate goal, and what he was meant to do. But. That feeling. That pang. Guilt.
What makes it wrong? Why does it feel wrong, now? Of course. It's not the darkness that will cause the end. But.
That feels wrong too now..
The fireplace was warming the cool night Elite and M were under. Elite just tried to stare at the ceiling. The fire was warm but Elite burned under every touch M made. He shouldn't have agreed to letting M bandage him up. Some wrapping around his torso does nothing. He should just stop taking people's help altogether. They're making him weak and dependent. The bandages don't even do anything. The Great One truly left him to rot away.
“HNG!- gah..”
M quickly retreated his hand. His eyes grew wide as he searched for answers and reasons, but most importantly, danger. Elite just breathed heavily.
“Just.. just stop. It's not gonna do anything..”
M debated just leaving it there. Elite seemed to have a short fuse like Twisted. And of course, seeming as powerful as him. For the sake of survival, maybe kissing ass and being kind wasn't how he was going to live. Not with Elite.
But.
He remembers what it felt like. At least Elite has the comfort that someone is there to help. Surely Elite could give the grace to let him just finish up-
“I SAID IT’S NOT GONNA DO ANYTHING!”
As M was wrapping more of the bandage Elite shoved him back. Mustering the strength to stand up and look at him eye to eye.
Elite ripped the bandages off, revealing not blood, but thick black sludge. Almost ink like and staining. He threw it at M. It stuck to M clothes as he cringed and jolted at the contact like one would a bug or unwelcome critter. Quickly prying it off and leaving it on the ground. He looked back at Elite. He was already folding in on himself, not having enough strength to keep himself up, Hunching over and grasping at his sides.
“It's.. agh-... it's.. no use, M… you can't do anything..”
In just an instance Twisted's voice replaced Elites. ‘You can't do ANYTHING!”
As much as fear was M's main emotion for Twisted, rage outweighed it 10 fold.
M didn't mean to. He'd always say it to Twisted. ‘I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!” And he'd cry and he'd cry and he'd cry and then he couldn't cry anymore.
Couldn't say ‘I didn't mean to’ anymore. Couldn't say ‘I'm sorry’ anymore
M slapped Elite.
‘I'm trying to help you!’ Is what M wants to say but his voice is gone. A pained rasp of air comes out instead and brings M to a quiet, painful coughing fit. It only lasts a few seconds but the tears are already running down his face.
“M..”
M doesn't bother to listen, already walking out the door.
“M-M! Wait-”
Elite's strength is not enough. His legs give out just as he tries to follow after and falls to the ground. The thud and pained groan is heard by M, and for a moment he turns to go back. But.
For the sake of survival, maybe kissing ass and being kind wasn't how he was going to live.
It hurt. Felt like walking out on a sick puppy. Maybe it was like that. But if Elite didn't want M, then fine! M quickly corrected his thinking. If- if Elite didn't want M around.. him.. then fine.. .
He'll give him his space..
M ignored the groans and pleas that came from the house, instead walking to a camp set up by some Yellow Steves. Roasting their meat and boiling their water, sharing the delights of their small world in the village. Still rubbing the tears out of his eyes he waved to a Steve. The Steve waves back and comes up to him to offer some food. Putting an apple in his hand as the Steve notices the red glossy eyes of M.
Elite was still on the floor. Writhing in pain. He'd thrown up twice by now. Head laying in the tar of his being. His body was rejecting something. He hoped to God it wasn't himself.
“EEEMM!”
He cried out again. Coughing and gurgling on his vomit. He clutched his sides. Disoriented, he just looked up and around. Using minimal energy to lift his head. The fire in the fireplace was still going. The floor was stained black from his vomit, and the stained bandages were still there. He had to admit it. He hurt M. And for the first time, in a long time.
He didn't mean to.
M was really, all he had left. All his life he could remember the fire that burned from darkness, that red of dancing flames always warmed his dark soul. It's smoke he breathed in delightedly, But it doesn't compare to the scolding burn of tenderness and care M's hand had. His flesh writhing and twitching under the pure essence of life and touch. No one dared touch darkness. Yet M did. Yet he does. Does. M. Not think of him as. Darkness? But as a.
Living being?
That pang came again. Guilt. He hurt M.
He cared. He cares so much now. He has nothing else to care about so why should he care now but to feel the ease of another and to share a tender moment, even if short and meaningless?
He's starting to get it now. Everything.
Elite starts to stand.
He brings himself up right and turns to the bandages. Still stained. Still abandoned.
He picks them up and limps his way out the door.
It's much colder outside. Could he feel such differences before? The moon waning crescent and stars far away singing. He saw in the distance the now growing bonfire and small gathering of Yellow Steves.
Pathetically, he wobbled his way to the gathering. Roasting pork and lamb filled the air. Elite could feel growing wants, and hunger for something. But all he wanted was M.
To help him of course.
Elite found M sitting down, eating some of the lamb slowly. Elite knew what he wanted to say, but. Now in a fairly large gathering. The Yellow Steves could hear him. They've already noticed his presence but decided to leave him be. Given the bundle bandages and ink of Darkness still staining his mouth and chest made it clear. Maybe he shouldn't eat right now.
Elite still let out small groans and coughs as he walked. M already noticing, stopping his chewing and just staring into the fire.
Elite was hesitant for a moment. But he knew M was listening.
“M..”
M sat still.
“ .. I'm..”
A few Yellow Steves turned their heads slightly.
“I'm..”
He just needs to say it.
“I'm sorry..”
M's head jolted up. His body grew tense. Those words had been on his lips. Rolling off of his tongue since he can remember. And Elite is saying it to him?
“I-i need.. you.. M…”
What the hell is this man saying?
“You.. can finish up.. bandaging me. I-i..”
A catch in his throat.
“Chak-! Ugh.. i.. d-don't know how to.. do it..”
He's insane.
“Sigh, myself..”
Absolutely shameful.
Elite was clutching the wrapping insanely tight. His nails were about to dig through the fabric and cut his palms until M turned to look at him. The fire dancing in his eyes. M's hands burned. And M's eyes cut.
“Please..”
One last plea. Elite was side by side with M walking back to the house before he could even notice. The door shut. Finally near warmth again. The couch was softer. His limps ached less. His mind was clearer.
And M's hands felt hotter than ever.