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It might seem odd to idealize a version of yourself that is, in essence, a complete loser. A version of yourself that is incapable, dependent, and plain stupid. But every time V saw him, an unfamiliar hunger began to stir in his ribs.
Escape takes sacrifice. You have to get rid of the things that bind you: only a foolish animal waits to be saved from a bear trap. A smart one, like him, breaks its own bones to get away. A changeling, he'd shed identity like a second skin. Reborn into a version of himself that had yet to exist: an accomplice, a revolutionary, a leader. A lamb and the wolf in sheep's clothing.
He hungered for a different world, for freedom, so he made escape with teeth and claws and mind. So many faces left behind, so many limbs stuck in traps. So much of him ripped apart in the name of freedom. Because a Morty couldn't do what he'd done. But what has that made him?
Infinity is cruel. You can stare into it, imagine every possibility you can, and know they are all out there. Yet all you see is empty space.
Reaching outside the curve was like walking into an infinite store. There were endless aisles, stretching endlessly in every direction. They had every kind of everything. Right there, on the shelf. Just have to reach out. But V was frozen at the entrance.
He didn't know what he was looking for.
He got exactly what he wanted. But why did he want it? There wasn't a life he imagined outside the curve. He only wanted to escape the pain, to escape him. But where did that leave him?
Alone. With memories of thousands of things he'd left behind.
Playing hide and seek with his sister, goodbye kisses from mom, awkward advice from dad. Going to school, cute girls, crushes. His bed, his table, the old lamp. Tabletop games, breakfast with the family.
The person who enjoyed these things, who could enjoy them, is long gone.
But he isn't.
The him that chose to stay, he's still out there. Still suffering. Still crying, screaming, laughing. He doesn’t feel this numbness in his soul, this disconnect. Like his heart is missing, leaving a hole in its place that is slowly eating him from inside out.
Envy slithers into V's heart without notice, heavy and poisonous. He'd take its fangs and sink them into Prime's neck, feel the stolen warmth swim through his veins.
It's funny. He'd made this obsession for himself. When he gave Prime that choice, he didn't think it mattered. But as their pathways split, one thing followed both ways – regret. No matter how sure he was of his decision, a choice made leaves a mark. And this one still bleeds.
He couldn't go back to that life. He just couldn't. But maybe in it he could find a remedy.