Work Text:
He sobbed for hours.
His friend died.
DIED.
What else would he do?
He denied the thought seconds before he saw the blood.
Sickened, he hopped off the server.
...
A day after the death of Twixxel, he stayed in his room.
It was his fault afterall.
He asked Twixxel for help, but it only resulted in his death.
He tried to reach out to him too but...
Nothing worked.
He was completely ghosted.
Dead.
DEAD.
, , Is he dead? ' '
Mob wondered, now thinking maybe he's just possibly overreacting.
He forced himself to get out of his room, and start driving to Twixxel's house.
Maybe it was just a server disconnection... or he couldn't hop back onto the server?
...
There was no answer from the door.
His house was empty.
Nothing.
He waited the entire day, looking through the windows or knocking at the door.
He's dead, it couldn't be anymore obvious.
...
, , FUCK YOU VERITY ' '
ThatMob screamed, kicking and punching anything in his room that would allow him to calm down and forget about the death.
It only made it hurt more.
The anger made the loss hurt more.
He mourned for days, not coming out of his room.
Sometimes his other friends would check up on him, but Mob wouldn't budge from the bed.
Something sharp caught Mob's eye.
...
It's been almost a month.
His arms and upper thighs feel like they're burning.
Cuts and sliced skin cover them.
It wasn't much longer before he looked at the table and saw the gun.
He was tired.
He should've died, not Twixxel.
It should've never been Twixxel.
Grabbing the firearm on the table, he kneels on the floor and points the gun at his head.
It so stupid, knowing a mod can cause such trauma.
He almost triggered the gun, before thinking of a plan.
Revenge..?
Wouldn't Twixxel want that?
Wouldn't he want Mob to destroy Verity?
...
ThatMob installed a gun mod to the game, and joined back onto the server with Verity.
Twixxel's death won't be in vain.