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Cleansing, Lime has done. Constantly, consistently, with upmost precision. Flushing out the temple and soul, being sure not to stray, what more did they have to do ? You can cut off weeds from their stems, but their roots always remain. And Lime could just never pull hard enough to get them out of the ground.
Blue was nothing less than human and nothing more than a god. Wherever they stood on that spectrum ? Lime didn't know. But what was fact was that Blue was pure, precious. Much more than the other jumbos that blabbered and fumbled around on the ship. Corporate bootlickers, they all were. Blue was different -- a breakthrough in the hardened stereotype in Lime's brain. A breakthrough in every layer and gate built and carved in front of their soul's temple. All with fluttering eyelashes and soft coos.
That's what drove Lime away, at first. The sight of everyone drawn into Blue at first glance unnerved them greatly. So much so that they didn't even bother to introduce themselves when Blue first boarded as the 'Skeld's Doctor.' They weren't going to get into any funny business with what was clearly a devil. Gremlin ? Siren ? Incubus ? Whatever it was, Lime wanted nothing to do with it. Lime was hypno-proof, sure. But they didn't want to risk it.
But Blue wasn't the type to keep people hiding. They brought everyone out of their shells, no matter how rough and sturdy they may be. Blue was patient, gentle, charismatic, caring, and 'had a close touch on life and the beauty around it' -- whatever that meant. No matter how stubborn Lime may be, Blue always found a way to let themselves in. Or, get Lime themselves to open the door. The former sounded too forceful. Blue was never forceful. Only persistent.
Maybe that's what planted the first seed.
It was threatening, those sparkles. Blue was so pleasant and tempting that they alone were more of a threat than anyone else on the ship. Everybody had their methods to getting what they want, and Blue hid theirs behind their back. That's what was most disturbing, distrusting. Once again, Lime wanted nothing to do with it. But Blue wanted everything to do with them, apparently.
A held out hand, a call out into the pipes, a dramatic cry and beautiful promises. It tangled Lime into this web of veins that would burst from how aggressively their heart would pump. Blue commented on that, once when Lime had to get kidnapped by the rest of the crew just so Blue could do a simple vitals check. They tilted their head and furrowed their brows, "Well, that's not good," and lectured Lime on the importance of lowering stress and maintaining a healthy diet. It went one ear out the other -- not because of Blue's appearance, nor their smooth voice, nor their gentle tone, ( although those were some factors ), -- but because whatever a doctor had to say wasn't worthy enough to listen to.
But no matter how much Lime painted this picture of Blue, it'd always be proven wrong. They kept true to their promises; when Lime would snoop and find nothing. They were true and honest; even when it put themselves down. Too often. That was definitely something Lime hated about them. Other than everything else. Lime never had the words to reply to Blue's love and affection. Lime never had the ability to take Blue's love and affection. It had to be spoon-fed, as if they couldn't feed themselves.
Lime never feels pathetic. They have in the past, quite a lot, but the measures they took to defend themselves ensured nothing would ever happen again. Blue said that often. Blue's words mended internal wounds that even Lime didn't know existed, and Blue didn't even work in that field. That must be a lie to some degree. Or they were indeed a demon, and they could read into your darkest traumas without you knowing to use as strings to bind you to them and their words. Or maybe Blue just knew what to say. Whatever it was, it made Lime feel pathetic. They don't like that.
Lime had no care for majority, if not all, of the other crew. Their business with them was strictly transactional. Lime makes sure the ship flies smoothly, they leave Lime alone. Most were good at that -- Lime wasn't exactly a dear to be around. Blue was horrible at it. Lime was horrible at pushing them away. It wasn't supposed to be like that, but life is odd in that way. The way its web stretches out and connects in patterns and bonds you wouldn't think were possible, and the way it'd keep you bounded into place, no matter how much you say 'this isn't right.'
Nothing was right, really.
No matter what Lime did, they always ended up weak in the end. And to them, that probably means their life is going to end in some way. Something that'll back them into a corner and something that'll ensure they can't fight back. To Blue, of course, it just meant that they had a softer part of their soul they refused to explore. Cyan mentioned something like that once. They looked at Lime with their curious -- almost pitying gaze that they always handed out to others when they're assuming how the entire trajectory of their life has been.
"You've been bruised," they'd say, "But I think what makes it hurt most is that you refuse to believe you can heal."
Lime scrunched up their face and simply decided that they weren't someone they'd talk to ever again.
They should've done that with Blue, they really should have. It would've made things easier, so much easier. Things would remain normal, things would remain steady, things would remain stagnant, things would remain dull. And to outsiders, that may seem depressing. But it's comfort. Lime rarely got comfort, life was a challenge meant to be pushed through -- and of course comfort wasn't something in the picture. So if dull routine was the closest thing to comfort, they'll take it over anything.
A sudden disruption takes away from rather than eases out of. Lime wasn't ready for that.
They really could blame Blue all they want, point their fingers at the doctor who tears up thinking of the possibilities of their lovely comrades getting hurt. Blue, who pours their heart and soul out until their's less than nothing left and will still find more to give. Their Blue, who will wait patiently until the other calls out from below and asks for a moment. They could blame Blue all they want, Blue would take it anyways.
But Lime wasn't cruel.
They were the aftereffects of cruelty.
Blue was too, in their own way.
Everyone was.
Lime didn't have much to do during their freetime. Lime never had much to do outside of work. Lime never had much. Something could happen in the vents, they could get trapped -- cut up -- left to rot. And no one would notice until the ship started failing and no one would notice until the smell came through the AC. No one would notice until it became an inconvenience. Lime was an inconvenience, hence why their distance was never pushed nor questioned.
But nothing was an inconvenience to Blue except for Blue themselves. Blue felt nothing but adoration, appreciation, and love for their Lime. And Lime didn't know what to feel. Whatever they could view Blue was -- a god, a devil, a scapegoat, or a lover, it brought them conflict with each one. And they can't just view Blue as nothing at all. Blue couldn't be brushed off, as easy that should've been. Blue could never be brushed off. Maybe that burdened them both in their own ways.
Maybe they weren't so different, now that Lime thought about it.
Blue was a flower burrowed deep into Lime's heart, their roots spreading in deeper than flesh. Their roots planting themselves into a dim light that Lime's temple was supposed to protect. A temple Lime's walls were supposed to protect. Blue was a flower that would keep growing no matter how many times they'd be picked, admired, then set back down as if that would connect them back to their roots. Or tossed, if people have decided they've looked too close.
Lime's caution prevented them from ripping Blue from their roots. Blue's gentleness prevented them from ripping into Lime's roots. They foiled each other's issues and yet Lime couldn't have that. The devil always made the worst temptations hardest to resist. The devil often made their kind beautiful and charismatic. But Blue's words were never laced with venom. This whole thing was one big thing fighting against Lime's logic and wants. Needs, maybe.
"You always act like a good day means punishment, why is that ? I can assure you that is not the case."
Blue mentioned that once during one of Lime's visits. Lime never sat still. They were tense, they paced, they fidgeted, tinkered with. A jitteriness that remains in their bones despite the stagnant present that is their current life. Lime didn't give a proper answer. Just a weird side glance and a "What're you talking about this time ?" And Blue would sigh and go, "Oh, nothing. I'm just worried is all." They're always worried. Even when it got on Lime's nerves. Even when it makes Blue's go haywire. And Blue of course wasn't wrong, that's why Lime couldn't give a proper answer. Whether it was because Lime didn't know or they didn't want to know. It didn't really matter.
Lime kept Blue in this constant yet inconsistent push-pull since the day Blue first was able to catch and approach them. Inside and out they grabbed onto Blue like they were a light that'd fade if not contained within Lime's palms. Inside and out they threw whatever they could, spewed profanities, and retreated into the darkness to avoid being blinded. Blue would be saddened, yet never angry. That hurt. If Blue got angry, that would give Lime a reason for their distrust. But Blue was never angry, only sad. It made Lime feel as if they were cruel.
But, to hell with it. Blue would get over it. Blue had other things to worry about, other people who would accept their love with open arms and starry eyes. Maybe it did make Lime cruel, but you had to be cruel to survive. Blue was never going to survive.
"But this isn't about survival," They would say, "You can sit down for a moment, you realize."
"Sit down, and look around you."
"You're safe with me, please believe me when I say this."
Lime never would, they'd say. But they knew they'd settle down eventually, and it scared them more than anything. Because really, no matter hard they pulled, they could never get the roots out from their light. The roots Blue has planted. Not a weed, Blue wasn't a weed. Blue was a flower, gorgeous and fully blossomed, a flower that chose to be rooted into Lime for whatever reason. Could Lime really be so cruel ? Whatever they experienced, it didn't give them a right to reflect it onto others. Especially not Blue.
But it was Blue's fault for constantly prying. Blue's fault for not leaving them be like the others, despite what they'd say about them. Lime hears it all.
Maybe it was their own fault, for letting it get to this point before finally bringing themselves to dismiss them. Maybe it was their own fault for giving into temptation. Maybe it was their own fault for not grasping and tugging hard enough.
Whoever's fault it was, it didn't change the fact that Lime was bound once again.
Bound into something that they didn't know how to get themselves out of this time.
If they managed to rip themselves free, wouldn't Blue wilt ? Could they bring themselves to rip free knowing that ?
They didn't know.
"How could I ?" Lime would reply, as always, "What do you know ?"
They'd settle down anyways.
It'll dawn on them later, resistance has nothing against the inevitable, especially when it has planted itself so deep.