[There’s… a funky smell, which keeps Kel’s mouth shut before he can consciously recognize it. His face scrunches. He moves faster. He—
[Sunny.]
[The noise doesn’t sound like his own. Maybe Kel grabs the phone, dials like a good friend who shows up on time, who recognizes an emergency before the body can rot. Maybe Kel is just fucking stupid.
[Either way, he drops at the bedside. His knees slide on blood and metal; a shaky hand grabs the knife, tosses it across the room.]
Why…? [A choked sound, only barely a word. Kel blinks furiously, unable to keep his sight from blurring over, but no matter how much it does it doesn’t matter because his friend, his neighbor, the boy he used to sneak out at night and read comics with, who never talked much but said everything that mattered with a look, who disappeared in silence four years ago and no one bothered to notice, his friend, his friend, his friend—
[He’s bleeding in a blanket. Kel throws his arms around him and sobs.]
Sunny…
[The phone never picked up. He doesn’t understand. Which body is shaking?]
[Kel's is, perhaps, the last face he expected to see. Sunny can't tell if his own face moves at all, if the hand reaching for Kel ever makes contact. His body doesn't hurt, but he thinks he's breathing wrong. He doesn't know if he can speak. What parts of someone need to get stabbed before they can't speak anymore?
[His fingers feel fine, soft hair between them. Sunny makes a sound, bubbling and bleak. He soothes his hand through Kel's hair, dark eyes glassy, searching for the boy's face. He looks so unfamiliar, crying the way he is.]
[Oh. Oh, God. Kel’s mouth is trying to wrench itself into an upright pull on instinct, before he can even think not to. He grabs for Sunny’s hand, equally thoughtless and trembling violently, not caring one bit for the blood that smears across both their skin.]
H-hey, buddy… [Choked and sinking. It barely sounds like him.] Just— [He can’t breathe. Why…?] Just, hold on, please....
[For what? The ambulance? Fuck, even Hero couldn’t fix this—but he can’t think about Hero right now. Kel’s failed enough already. He needs to be here for Sunny, be present, stop blubbering—
[Hold on to him. He squeezes that pale hand, brushing it through brown hair. Kel’s face is a mess. Sunny reached out anyway.]
[Kel is the last face Sunny expected to see, and now, he'll be the last face Sunny ever sees. Maybe he should have expected. It wasn't as if he never knocked, never called. Sunny killed himself. It's no one's fault but his own. Still. It was so lonely...
[This should have been lonely too. Maybe some awful part of him just wanted blood, didn't think for a second about anyone finding him. Then again, maybe he only wanted it to stop, stop, stop, stop; he barely remembers.
[His hand trembles in Kel's grip, fingers weakly curling, trying to return it.]
Kel...
[He makes a sound, a name. He tries to clear his throat, but he's afraid he'll choke. He has to keep trying.]
[Even as Sunny withers, he’s trying to hold on. He never answered the door, the phone—but then, maybe Kel should’ve crossed the stairs earlier. He could have, couldn’t he? So what if the house was emptier. Kel has always needed to reach out. If he can’t even do that…
[Sunny’s trying to talk to him. Kel wants to shush him, make him feel better, promise it’ll… promise that…
[More promises he can't keep. No, that’s the problem: Kel doesn’t know how to shut up. He's choking; he forces it down, down, down.]
I’m here, Sunny… [He needs this. Kel pulls Sunny closer, tucks heavy head into weary shoulder, cradling gently as he can manage. He can’t look at the blood. He can’t. He shuts his eyes.] I’m…
I hear you.
:) you can decide whether or not kel hears the truth
[Why is he here? (Why wouldn’t he be?) Why is the door open? (Why would it ever be shut?) Why does he have to see this? Why is it happening? Why? Why? Why....
[Does someone scream like an animal, or is that just his imagination?
[What did he hear?
[Whenever Kel pries his eyes to the doorway, he’ll see Basil. Waiting. Watching, as he always has, bearing silent witness. He’ll take it to his grave. He promised he would. And where does that leave him? Someone has… to do something....]
K-Kel....
[Basil is catatonic. What will he do? Where will he go? Why is he here....]
[The air is humid, the scent of blood clouding the air all around them. Sunny is still warm in Kel's arms, but he isn't moving. His eyes are closed. He could be sleeping.
[Basil is in the doorway.]
No...
[He shouldn't be seeing this. Not Basil. Not any of them. What will Kel tell them? When does Sunny's mom get home? They have to call 911. The phone didn't work.]
Basil...
[Kel's voice is raw, croaking. He stares at his friend, blood-spattered, helpless.]
[Kel's voice is hushed. The room looks like a tunnel, and he can barely hear Basil's voice.
[He must have heard Basil wrong, because there's no way - there's no way - he'd ever think...
[Kel shakes his head.]
H-he's moving so soon...I just wanted to check in, and the door was unlocked. I came up the stairs, and he was...h-he was...
[Kel looks down helplessly at the cooling body in his lap. When does his friend cease to be his friend and start to be a corpse? Sunny feels too heavy in his arms, suddenly. Bile rises up Kel's throat; he chokes it back, but he can't stop the one, solitary sob that bursts through. He runs his fingers softly through bloody, clumping hair.]
[There’s no way out of this, is there? He wouldn’t do that. Basil knows he didn’t do it. But no one else will believe it. No one else will look at red hands and let him go.
[Kel shouldn’t be holding him. Stroking him. Crying his name.
[Something sharp stabs Basil, and his own hand is no longer gentle. He grips Kel’s shoulder. He can’t make himself look down.]
[Kel's head turns to find Basil, but he's looking the other direction. There's a warm hand on his shoulder, a cold hand held in his own. He shakes his head.]
What...?
No, I... W-we can't leave. He needs help-- [Kel chokes on his own words. Sunny is beyond help.]
W-we need to call someone. The phone isn't working. Sunny's mom will be home soon--
[Kel's voice barely makes sound, mouth open. Confusion is rapidly taken over, hopeless as it is, muted by grief. Sunny is still wrapped in his arms. Kel stares at his friend.]
Basil, I'm sorry. Y-you shouldn't have to see this.
[He doesn't want to leave Sunny, but...they have to at some point, don't they? They can't just stay here. Kel cringes, squeezing the boy's body tightly against him. It...feels...like a body.
[He releases, lays it back down in the bed and starts to stand up. His knees knock together.]
I-I just have to go next door...I-I'll call 911.
Basil...
Y-you should come too. [Kel takes a shaking breath. It's shallow.] There's...nothing we can do for him now.
[He’s not his to mourn. Kel leaves him. Everyone leaves him. He gave up, is the problem; the way he just wants to lie down and lie to rest and lie and lie and lie and lie and lie until the rest is a blur, until he can’t wake up again.
[Basil looks at the body. It will be okay. Sunny will understand. He won’t leave him. He wouldn’t do that. Someone else can call. It won’t matter.
[He thinks he could take a blade and plunge it through skin slice veins like tangled roots spill blood onto bed onto carpet onto a floor they used to share dig deeper down the stairs drag the entrails step, step loop around the tree and knot up his gut and watch, watch as it ends, watch as the world sways until it finally stops moving and he—
[What did he say? Why is he still here?
[Basil’s fingers curl and shake. He eyes the nightstand for something sharp. It’s not there. Does Kel have it?
[He doesn’t move. And he listens. He doesn’t have a choice.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pantheraliam) wrote2030-03-12 03:03 pm
no subject
[There’s… a funky smell, which keeps Kel’s mouth shut before he can consciously recognize it. His face scrunches. He moves faster. He—
[Sunny.]
[The noise doesn’t sound like his own. Maybe Kel grabs the phone, dials like a good friend who shows up on time, who recognizes an emergency before the body can rot. Maybe Kel is just fucking stupid.
[Either way, he drops at the bedside. His knees slide on blood and metal; a shaky hand grabs the knife, tosses it across the room.]
Why…? [A choked sound, only barely a word. Kel blinks furiously, unable to keep his sight from blurring over, but no matter how much it does it doesn’t matter because his friend, his neighbor, the boy he used to sneak out at night and read comics with, who never talked much but said everything that mattered with a look, who disappeared in silence four years ago and no one bothered to notice, his friend, his friend, his friend—
[He’s bleeding in a blanket. Kel throws his arms around him and sobs.]
Sunny…
[The phone never picked up. He doesn’t understand. Which body is shaking?]
Sunny.
no subject
[His fingers feel fine, soft hair between them. Sunny makes a sound, bubbling and bleak. He soothes his hand through Kel's hair, dark eyes glassy, searching for the boy's face. He looks so unfamiliar, crying the way he is.]
no subject
[He’s…?
[Oh. Oh, God. Kel’s mouth is trying to wrench itself into an upright pull on instinct, before he can even think not to. He grabs for Sunny’s hand, equally thoughtless and trembling violently, not caring one bit for the blood that smears across both their skin.]
H-hey, buddy… [Choked and sinking. It barely sounds like him.] Just— [He can’t breathe. Why…?] Just, hold on, please....
[For what? The ambulance? Fuck, even Hero couldn’t fix this—but he can’t think about Hero right now. Kel’s failed enough already. He needs to be here for Sunny, be present, stop blubbering—
[Hold on to him. He squeezes that pale hand, brushing it through brown hair. Kel’s face is a mess. Sunny reached out anyway.]
I got you....
GOD THIS IS AWFUL WHY DID WE DO THIS
[This should have been lonely too. Maybe some awful part of him just wanted blood, didn't think for a second about anyone finding him. Then again, maybe he only wanted it to stop, stop, stop, stop; he barely remembers.
[His hand trembles in Kel's grip, fingers weakly curling, trying to return it.]
Kel...
[He makes a sound, a name. He tries to clear his throat, but he's afraid he'll choke. He has to keep trying.]
I have...to tell you...
opens tab and immediately takes poison damage
[Even as Sunny withers, he’s trying to hold on. He never answered the door, the phone—but then, maybe Kel should’ve crossed the stairs earlier. He could have, couldn’t he? So what if the house was emptier. Kel has always needed to reach out. If he can’t even do that…
[Sunny’s trying to talk to him. Kel wants to shush him, make him feel better, promise it’ll… promise that…
[More promises he can't keep. No, that’s the problem: Kel doesn’t know how to shut up. He's choking; he forces it down, down, down.]
I’m here, Sunny… [He needs this. Kel pulls Sunny closer, tucks heavy head into weary shoulder, cradling gently as he can manage. He can’t look at the blood. He can’t. He shuts his eyes.] I’m…
I hear you.
:) you can decide whether or not kel hears the truth
[Wasn't their secret meant for the grave? Why now, then, in the arms of a friend, vision blurring on a familiar face?
[Why now? Is it better to know she'd never meant it, or better never to realize that the friend he cradles now is a murderer?
[Why now? He thinks he whispers it. Black edges bleed together until his vision is flooded with nothing but perfect, blank, white space.
[That's all. Game over.]
[sobbign] no u
[Something is different today.
[Why is he here? (Why wouldn’t he be?) Why is the door open? (Why would it ever be shut?) Why does he have to see this? Why is it happening? Why? Why? Why....
[Does someone scream like an animal, or is that just his imagination?
[What did he hear?
[Whenever Kel pries his eyes to the doorway, he’ll see Basil. Waiting. Watching, as he always has, bearing silent witness. He’ll take it to his grave. He promised he would. And where does that leave him? Someone has… to do something....]
K-Kel....
[Basil is catatonic. What will he do? Where will he go? Why is he here....]
no subject
[No.
[The air is humid, the scent of blood clouding the air all around them. Sunny is still warm in Kel's arms, but he isn't moving. His eyes are closed. He could be sleeping.
[Basil is in the doorway.]
No...
[He shouldn't be seeing this. Not Basil. Not any of them. What will Kel tell them? When does Sunny's mom get home? They have to call 911. The phone didn't work.]
Basil...
[Kel's voice is raw, croaking. He stares at his friend, blood-spattered, helpless.]
no subject
[He’s covered.]
It’s… i-it’s okay....
[Step. Something moves towards him. Step.]
It’s okay....
[Body in his arms. He can’t let go.]
You… c- [He wants to choke.] couldn’t have done it....
[Step. He reaches out; Basil’s hand, Kel’s blood-smeared shoulder.]
no subject
[Couldn't have...?]
...What?
[Kel's voice is hushed. The room looks like a tunnel, and he can barely hear Basil's voice.
[He must have heard Basil wrong, because there's no way - there's no way - he'd ever think...
[Kel shakes his head.]
H-he's moving so soon...I just wanted to check in, and the door was unlocked. I came up the stairs, and he was...h-he was...
[Kel looks down helplessly at the cooling body in his lap. When does his friend cease to be his friend and start to be a corpse? Sunny feels too heavy in his arms, suddenly. Bile rises up Kel's throat; he chokes it back, but he can't stop the one, solitary sob that bursts through. He runs his fingers softly through bloody, clumping hair.]
Sunny...Sunny...
no subject
[There’s no way out of this, is there? He wouldn’t do that. Basil knows he didn’t do it. But no one else will believe it. No one else will look at red hands and let him go.
[Kel shouldn’t be holding him. Stroking him. Crying his name.
[Something sharp stabs Basil, and his own hand is no longer gentle. He grips Kel’s shoulder. He can’t make himself look down.]
You need to go.
no subject
[Kel's head turns to find Basil, but he's looking the other direction. There's a warm hand on his shoulder, a cold hand held in his own. He shakes his head.]
What...?
No, I... W-we can't leave. He needs help-- [Kel chokes on his own words. Sunny is beyond help.]
W-we need to call someone. The phone isn't working. Sunny's mom will be home soon--
Oh, God...
no subject
[He needs help. He’s never wanted help. He’d take it from his best friend. Kel’s not his best friend. He needs help. He’s never wanted…
[They won’t be alone long. Kel says we, like there’s ever been a "we," but she’ll find out and—
[Sunny will understand.
[He promised.]
Kel. [Shivering. Insistent. Everything will be okay.] Help.
Go away.
[Something sharp is still in the room.]
LIKE I'M AFRAID
Basil...
[Kel's voice barely makes sound, mouth open. Confusion is rapidly taken over, hopeless as it is, muted by grief. Sunny is still wrapped in his arms. Kel stares at his friend.]
Basil, I'm sorry. Y-you shouldn't have to see this.
[He doesn't want to leave Sunny, but...they have to at some point, don't they? They can't just stay here. Kel cringes, squeezing the boy's body tightly against him. It...feels...like a body.
[He releases, lays it back down in the bed and starts to stand up. His knees knock together.]
I-I just have to go next door...I-I'll call 911.
Basil...
Y-you should come too. [Kel takes a shaking breath. It's shallow.] There's...nothing we can do for him now.
HE’S JUST BEIN’ A PAL (cw: gory/graphic thoughts)
[He’s not his to mourn. Kel leaves him. Everyone leaves him. He gave up, is the problem; the way he just wants to lie down and lie to rest and lie and lie and lie and lie and lie until the rest is a blur, until he can’t wake up again.
[Basil looks at the body. It will be okay. Sunny will understand. He won’t leave him. He wouldn’t do that. Someone else can call. It won’t matter.
[He thinks he could take a blade and plunge it through skin slice veins like tangled roots spill blood onto bed onto carpet onto a floor they used to share dig deeper down the stairs drag the entrails step, step loop around the tree and knot up his gut and watch, watch as it ends, watch as the world sways until it finally stops moving and he—
[What did he say? Why is he still here?
[Basil’s fingers curl and shake. He eyes the nightstand for something sharp. It’s not there. Does Kel have it?
[He doesn’t move. And he listens. He doesn’t have a choice.]
no subject
[Basil doesn't move. Basil doesn't speak. The knife is still on the floor.]
Ba...sil?
C...c'mon...