Chapter Text
-Do what you think is right, Mob.
Verity was almost crying as he looked at the gun, the barrel pointed right at him. But he knew that Mob would make the best decision for this situation. He knew what Verity was like, he knew what a mess he had made, he knew everything about him. Mob was trembling, looking between the gun and the ball, his thoughts racing much faster than before. Maybe he should have shot, but what was the chance of getting killed?
Wouldn't it be better to shoot himself?
He'll leave Verity alone. He'll give him the opportunity to go to other worlds, he'll give him...Freedom. What Verity was missing. Is that what he wanted? But the thought of death made him feel hot, and pulled him out of the coldest cold. What did Twixel feel when that thing killed him? Is that it?
Would Twixxel want Mob to die?
-Verity. Let's go. Home.
Mob said in a whisper. He lowered the gun and put it back in his inventory, in the farthest corner. The ball looked at him with both disbelief and love.
He put Verity in that corner when he was upset with him. Swallowing, he crouched down and reached for Verity.
-...
He picked Verity up and went home. He didn't look at Verity, and...He didn't run, but he still stopped often, turned around, and thought for a few minutes. Should he let the ball live? There were no cows, sheep, or even chickens around. Had the creature eaten them all? Would it eat him when he returned home? Verity remained silent. Mob often stumbled, often slipped, and often fell. However, he never made a sound.
-...
Why is Verity silent? Even in his "real home," even when Mob pointed a gun at him, he was talking. Why is he silent now? Is he afraid of dying?
Is he afraid of dying like Mob?
-...
Do they really have so much in common?
-...
Are they that close?
-...
Does it matter?
-...
Or is he just afraid of Mob? Can he be afraid of him? Because of his appearance? He's an Enderman.
No. Verity looks scary.
They have something in common.
A lot of people are afraid of them.
Can he just teleport home?
Can Verity help him learn to teleport?
Can he even do that?
Who is he, anyway?
-FUCK-
He tripped over a block of dirt and fell face-first into a flower. It was humiliating, especially when he remembered how his fellow Endermen had taken the block of earth. They were better than he was in many ways. Even in height. Even in restraint. Even in intelligence. And now, lying in the clearing, pinning down the talking ball that had turned his life into a piece of shit, he had given in. He was crying. Had his family ever cried? No.
Maybe he should have shot himself after all?
Yes.
He should have.
He would have been saved.
From the shame.
Verity was silent, what use was there in moving on if-
-It's going to rain soon. Go home now if you don't want to get unnecessary burns.
That was the push. He stood up and went home.
He decided to hurry, even though he didn't want to go home. He already knew he was going to die. He wanted to die, but now? He's going to go home, alive. He's a traitor to his own home. Mob walked around the stone fence. But he stopped at a hole in it. It was a passage for Twixxel's house. To make it more convenient for him. Twixxel.
Twixxel?
-Mob, please don't die. Kill him, he deserves to die, Mob. For my sake, please. I'll stay here for your sake. Don't do anything stupid.
Twixel was standing in the doorway. He was smiling and crying. Was he alive? Why did Verity lie to him? Was it a joke? Was it a conspiracy? Did they conspire to play a prank on him?
-It's a bad joke, Twixxel...
Sobbing said Mob, almost dropping Verity. The ball didn't understand anything, looking at Mob worriedly, but he couldn't say anything. Was he in pain? Were the memories coming back? Verity felt bad for doing it. Maybe Mob would have loved him then. For real.
Twixxel came closer, crossing his arms. He was demanding something he couldn't give. He had already made his choice. I've already figured out what's going to happen. Does Twixxel want him to suffer more? Is this revenge?
-Please leave. Please, for my sake and for your own.
No. He couldn't. There's no one else, no one who would accept him the way Twixxel did. There's no one who would understand him the way Twixxel did. He died because of Mob. He died because he wanted to help his friend. It's so... It's so unfair. He didn't deserve it. Mob did, but Twixxel didn't.
-Mob, don't do anything stupid.
He looked down. The rain started dripping on his armor. He didn't care, honestly. He remembered how Twixxel used to bandage his burns when they came home from a rainstorm.
He was crying. He threw the ball into the fence with all his might and fell to his knees. I don't care about anything, Verity doesn't say anything anyway. And the Twixxel..He spoke.
- Mob, please. Go away. You need to leave. I know it hurts, but please, go away. You can leave this world for another, please, Mob...
-He'll be there, he'll be everywhere, Twixxel. He's everywhere. Even in my brain.
Looking up at Twixxel from below, his vision was disrupted, and he seemed to glow. Twixxel seemed to have descended from the other world to help him. As if he were a god.
Mob tried to wrap his arms around Twixxel's knees and...He was able to do it. Could.
He could almost feel the fabric of his pants as...
-Mob, you've burned your face and hands all over. Maybe we should go home? Are you feeling okay?
Verity raised her voice at that divine moment?
-No, Verity. I am completely...Fine. Verity.
He was crying and smiling, hugging Twixel. He could feel Twixel's arms around his head, stroking him.
-Mob, Mob, you know I'm not lying. I've done everything I can to help you, don't make everything I've done useless. For my sake.
He spoke in a soft voice, the kind of voice no one had ever spoken to him in.
-Mob, what's wrong with you? Mob, please, you only have four hearts left. Come home...
He hugged Twixel tighter. Maybe he was trying to become one with him. Maybe that would save his friend. Maybe that would keep him alive.
-Mob, three hearts.
But he was warm. Warm for the last time. He didn't need anything else. He had already made up his mind. Like Twixel, who held him in his arms.
He was warm.