Chapter Text
They were annoying. They were selfish. They were incompetent. Red knew all of these things well. They drilled it into their own brain until it was a memorized list.
They tried to keep to themself during their more emotional moments. It wasn’t really a conscious decision, just more of an… escape mechanism, they supposed. They would try to keep themself afloat with any random video game, just to entertain themself.
They found themself all alone after Green had been defeated. They’d started to make up with purple, or, well, Violet.
They didn’t want to think about all of their failures as a captain, but they haunted them. Their confidence had seeped through their fingers like sand. All those innocent crewmates. All the blood. All the pain.
Some of purple’s words kept circling in their head. “I wish you were dead!” Kept repeating over and over like a broken record. They couldn’t help but think about it. Even if they knew Purple didn’t actually think that way about Red, and that they weee on the road to recovery together.
… it hurt. It hurt a lot.
They tried their best to hide it, but all these little lingering memories stung more than they’d like to admit. Red was just trying their best. Their best wasn’t enough…
Red had always used an overinflated fake ego as a shield against all the negative emotions that stirred deep within them. They didn’t want to address it. So they simply didn’t.
Red would fake delusions of grandeur, thinking that they’re the best captain ever, whatever would get people to talk about their self absorbed behavior instead of noticing the real problems that lie within the actions that no one usually sees.
It was another day. The trip back to Industria was long and grief filled, but worst of all was the boredom and being left to their own devices. Red would usually play their video games when left alone, but it didn’t feel right anymore. Not when neglecting their duties got them into this situation in the first place.
They took a deep breath. Red was all alone for the time being. Nothing to do, no one to talk to, well, except Purple, but there’s… something preventing them from doing so.
Instead, Red wanders out of their room and into the med-bay, where they promptly just… sat on one of the cots. It wasn’t nearly as soft as their own bed, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever.
They took in their surroundings, scanning the perimeter for any threats. It was a small habit that Red had picked up from Purple after the… incident.
After confirming their safety, Red stood up gently. They rummaged through the medical cabinets. Usually if someone wanted to access any material from the medical wing, they would have to relay their needs to Blue, who would hand them whatever they may need, along with a sparkling piece of advice. But not anymore.
Red shuddered as they continued making a ruckus. Eventually, their hands made contact with a small, individually wrapped scalpel. They slip it into their uniform’s pocket and make a swift escape.
Red wanders the halls of the Skeld for a little while longer. Ever since Brown and Yellow died, food became less of a mandated group gathering, and more of a “find something to scarf down and then scram” sort of deal. It worked well for Red, considering they had been eating less. They wanted to watch their figure, and besides, they aren’t that great a cook anyways. Thats why they’re the captain and not the cook!
Red’s not good at either job.
They continue down the halls, eventually reaching their own quarters. It was one of the only places that lacked security cameras (something about “privacy laws” and whatnot). Red just felt much better about being in their own living space than any public area.
They sat down at their desk, their loft bed looming above them. Nothing to do. Nothing to do but sit. Sit on their ass like they’d done time and time again, resulting in more casualties than was necessary.
They spun around in their chair, before pulling out the scalpel. Red took the plastic wrap off of it, tossing it somewhere behind them. They toyed with the scalpel for a moment, running their index finger over the non bladed side.
Red took a deep breath in and unbuttoned their captain’s uniform, pulling down their dress pants to just below the thighs.
Red stared at their body. Littered in scars, some small slashes, and some deep, carved chunks into their body. All healed, as they’d quit after starting their job aboard the Skeld, but with virtually no one left, they felt as though the harm they were going to inflict upon themselves was much less impactful. At the very least, worst case scenario, only one person would find out, not the whole crew.
Red slowly spins the scalpel around in their left hand and places the blade on one of their thighs. They put pressure on it as they slide it from right to left. Red hissed through their teeth at the stinging pain, but they couldn’t help but continue.
It felt so good to cut. To watch them bleed. To release all of this pent up self hatred onto a physical medium, no matter how painful or dangerous it was.
Red sliced more and more into their thighs, and a few thin slashes into their arms, though much higher up so Purple wouldn’t see them if their sleeves were rolled up.
Red couldn’t tell how long it had been since they started. They’d just gotten the bleeding the stop, and the first few injuries to scab over. It burnt. It burnt a lot, but Red couldn’t let Purple know this. If purple found out?
They would probably think they were attention seeking again, just how they always acted among other people. In truth, they didn’t like the center of attention all that much. They just used a fake smile and forced ego to stop people from getting too close and questioning the much more prevalent issues.
They glanced over at their desk, where a frayed rope lie. Red entertained the thought of tying it into a noose and attempting to hang themself once again, but ultimately decided against it. Purple couldn’t make it to Industria on their own. They didn’t know how to pilot the ship!
Red cleaned off the scalpel in their bathroom with soap and water, and rinsed the cuts with a rag. It stung again. They had neglected to grab bandages when they were in med-bay. Oh well. Bandages were never that useful anyways.
They took off their uniform in full, unhooked their shitty bra, and threw on some much softer silk pajamas with rocket ships on them. Childish? Maybe. But stylish? You bet your ass it was!
They walk out to Purple’s room and knock on the door. “Hey, purps?” They say, their voice just below a shout.
“What?” Purple shouts back, clearly annoyed at the very prospect of being interrupted. They open the door.
“…Do you think we could, uhm, for very captainly reasons, have a sleepover?” Red spits out, rather nervous. Why would they do this when they’d just harmed themselves, you may ask, but it made perfect sense to Red. They simply needed company, and Purple was the only person left aboard. Besides, the cuts had stopped bleeding and none of them were visible with their pajamas on.
Purple reluctantly agreed, pushing the door open further so Red could join them. Red walked in and surveyed Purple’s room. It was very standard, except for the LED lights that illuminated the underside of the loft, and the hammock with stuffed animals and blankets right next to their wardrobe.
“You better behave yourself, or you’ll be sent out in a millisecond, got that?” Red nodded enthusiastically, happy to spend time with Purple, even if it meant being subject to their passive aggressive moments about Red.
Red settled in the hammock and quickly passed out, snuggled up with one of Purple’s sweaters, a plush cow, and a fluffy blanket Purple had brought from home.
In the morning, Red arose quietly. Purple was nowhere to be seen. Red figured they must’ve gotten up alrighty to eat. They wriggled their way out of the hammock, falling flat on their face.
They stood up quickly and made their way back to their room. They didn’t feel like getting dressed, but Red did brush their teeth and out on deodorant.
They wandered out to the cafeteria to grab a waffle, and maybe some apple juice if they were lucky.
They scrimmaged around and found a frozen waffle, with red promptly shoved in the toaster. In the meantime, they poured themself a glass of apple juice.
Suddenly, Red bumps into Purple, who was already dressed. “Hey,” they sort of said, sort of groaned.
Red fell to the floor, their head hitting the corner and fainting.
Once they had gained consciousness again, Red noticed that they were all bandaged up. Wait. Wait; wait, wait, WAIT-
Purple was standing over them. Eyes wide.