Chapter Text
Light. Light more than everything. More light than has ever existed in the known universe. Enough light to not feel the pain (as much)(I still feel it)(it never stopped). Then—
The mind doesn’t operate on just one level. Like listening to music (I can hear music) and focusing on just one instrument. The rest of the song is still there, but you can only really follow one thing at a time. The mind is the same (I’m trying to listen to the music that doesn’t hurt).
Layers, there’s layers. Think about it in terms of layers (the layers overlap they all happen at once).
In one layer, there is color, and sound, and shape, tracing the folds of a brain. Fractals upon fractals of shapes. Music without melody, rhythm, or tune. Colors you can’t normally see. Stygian blues and self-luminous reds shift and blend together. Physical sensation too, a buzzing hum playing along skin and organ and teeth and eyes. This exists below-above the pain. It’s pleasant, even, to focus on this layer.
Above is like the colors-and-shapes layer but made entirely of pain. The only parts of the mind that remain after passing through that layer are left animal and aphasiac.
Below is... memory and thought. Fantasies and delusions. The memories are painful and the thoughts also hurt. Mask talks to mask talks to mask in a spiral. Somewhere there is always there a door boarded and shut and something pounding on the door.
No, focus. Something... Something that is always there is a door—I don’t want to think about the door.
Bickering masks chatter and don’t look behind the doors into memory.
Memory, again and again and again and again. Regret and regret and regret and confusion and hate and hurt and hurting and hating.
(I never said sorry//why would I ever say sorry)
Below and through memory is another layer. Deeper than this is just darkness. Here, there is a streetlight. And me. The rabbit stands beneath a streetlight and stares into the darkness. This is the worst layer to concentrate on, and so we don’t linger. Better to be in color and shape and sound.
Except they’re dimmer now. They were dimmer before the light, and now they’re dimmer again. The music is slower and the buzzing is softer. It makes it easier to pass through the pain-barrier above, but things are still scrambled. The upper layers are senseless sensation, but... less of it is pain. Even easier to stay here.
Every so often, something happens, and—and—and—
Layers, there’s layers. Think about it terms of layers (we did this already).
(How many times have I done this?)
...
You are standing under a lamp-post, staring into a void (second-person perspective doesn’t make it easier, asshole). You’ve been here for quite some time. Sometimes █████ █████ ██ ███ █████ ██ ███. It hurts worse afterwords (███ ████ ███ ██ ████, I ████ ███ ██ ████) so it’s best not to remember it.
Today... is a meaningless concept. Day doesn’t exist here. Neither does night. Darkness, and the lamp, and the darkness below. What will you do?
(There’s nothing to do. It’s over. This is it.)
...
In the void swims something unremembered
"You're not supposed to love me."
"But I do, Jax. I should've said that last time."
"How can you say that after everything— Wait, what do you mean last time?"
"Last time I made it this far. Don't you remember?"
"What are you talking...?"
Jax's breath catches in his throat as realization sets in. He steps backwards, towards the void.
"But... If...? Oh god. How long have I been like this? Do I not even get to die?"
"Jax, wait!"
She doesn't reach him in time. His foot slips on the edge of nothing. His last thought, before the void, rings out.
"I—"
...
(“I” is erased in color and light and sound and sensation and don’t think about the pain don’t think about the hate don’t think about anything at all.)
...
It's there to be forgotten
“I care about you.”
“Why? How? After everything you’ve seen. After everything I’ve done?”
“It isn’t always easy, but it’s a choice. And it’s a choice I want to make.”
“But why? Why would you ever choose to care about me? You know exactly what I am.”
Her arms squeezed tighter around him.
“You’ve done bad things, that’s true, but that’s not what you are.”
She sighs, and presses her head against his back.
“At the start, it was something Kinger said. That the worst thing you can do is make someone think they’re not wanted or loved. I didn’t want to do that to you.”
He stiffened, then began to shake.
“Jax?”
“I did that Pomni. I keep doing that! I do that to everyone! I was trying to do that to you! Don’t you get it?!”
He broke from the hug and backed away.
“You saw me do that to Ribbit, Pomni! I fucking killed her by doing that!”
He could see the fear in her eyes. Had he finally done it?
Had he finally ruined this too?
“Fuck, I shouldn’t, I can’t... I just keep hurting everyone I...”
He ran.
“Jax, don’t! I didn’t mean—!”
But the void was waiting.
...
(Think about everything think about how much of a fuckup I am I could’ve been happy if I’d just let myself be happy none of them wanted to hurt me I’m such a fucking moron why did I do that to them why did I do that to me?)
...
It hurts too much to remember
“Just breathe, Jax.”
“This isn’t the first time we’ve talked, is it?”
“No, it isn’t. Please, it’s ok. I know it’s hard.”
“It’s got to be hurting you, to do this. You shouldn’t do that for me. I’m not worth it.”
She just held him tighter. He couldn’t understand.
“You are worth it. Everyone’s worth it.”
“That’s just something you say. It’s not true.”
“It is true, and I’m sorry that anyone ever made you feel like you’re not worthy of being loved.”
“But... what if that someone is me?”
“I get that. Please believe me when I say that I get that. It’s not easy. In fact, it’s the hardest thing in the world, but... you have to love yourself.”
“I can’t Pomni. There’s... there’s nothing left to love.”
She shifted back, and for a second he was so scared she was pulling away. Instead, she took his hands in hers and stared him in the eyes.
“Then... can you think of a version of yourself that you could love?”
“I...”
“A version of yourself that you want to be, that you feel could be worthy of love. Can you imagine that, even a little?”
And— Panic, fear, pain. Jax couldn’t process it, couldn’t think—
“I don’t...”
“You don’t have to tell me anything, Jax. It’s just for you, and you alone. Please, just try?”
Tears stung Jax’s eyes. Somewhere else, there was a door boarded shut, chained shut, defaced. He thought about the door.
Then, he wept. He pulled Pomni close and just broke, tears flooding down his face as he sobbed into her shoulder. He knew he had to look pathetic, weak, like a failure of a man, but just for now it didn’t matter.
“What do I do with this Pomni? It’s too late for me, for any version of me.”
“Is it? Are you sure? Do you want it to be?”
“No... no I don’t. I don’t want to go, but I don’t think I can come back from this.”
Jax could feel the panic roll through every layer of him. He felt the void yawning wider behind him.
“Then here, right now, while you’re in my arms, try. Try to love that version of you that you want to be. I’ll hold you until the end.”
He did, and a painful warmth blossomed in his chest. It was still there when the void washed over him once more.
...
(How the fuck can anyone ████ me?)
(How the fuck can I ████ me?)
...
...
There is a layer, underneath all of the other layers. It is not the last layer, and the layer below seems to be yawning wider. In this layer, there is a street-light and a rabbit standing under the street light. And a door.
What.
(What?)
████?
The door, even in the soft pink glow of the streetlight, is clearly red. There’s a pictogram of a stick figure in an archway, an arrow, and a word. Exit.
E X I T
Jax (whoa holy shit a name) turns slowly to face it. It continues to be a door.
(I take a step.)
Things are less stable, away from the light. But the door is closer.
If I look away, I might never see it again. The void is behind me, this is in front of me. What’s different, if they end up leading to the same place?
Another step, and another, and another.
(I put my hand on the handle and turn—)
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