#and now i can't eat it without my body getting The Shakes and the Paranoia and the Humiliaton | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astracora · 4 months ago

Text

EVER's Tool - Chapter 5

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc, Caleb x gn!mc (MC POV/Rafayel POV)

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Angst, Talk of EVER Experiments and Torture, Violence, Gore, Suicide Ideation, Spoilers for all current story.

Word Count: 10112

Written: 7th March 2025

Notes: Established-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. You know that feeling when you're meant to only write like half of a chapter, and then resume the next day. But then you don't stop, and now it's past midnight, and your eyes are bleary? Yeah, got that feeling.

Now Playing: Heavy is the Crown, by Linkin Park

Masterlist AO3

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You very nearly leave your new problem behind, when you wake up that morning. The ache in your body is so strong, you barely stumble out of bed. Groaning at the agony ripping through your temples.

The one night of peaceful slumber was short lived. You don't remember what haunted your sleeping mind, you just remember it being cold, painful. A familiarity, if nothing else. At least your nightmares are consistent, even if the exact image never comes to mind when you wake.

A note on the side greets you as you roll over to grab at your claw, fumbling with the prosthetic straps as you try to read, hunched over.

Sorry Pipsqueak, the Fleet called me back for a little while, I promise I'll be back soon. Stay safe, make sure you eat. Don't get too lonely without me.

Your hand shakes on the clips of your straps, moving away, so you can turn the note over in your hand. Looking at the back, like it will reveal something else. A joke? A bug? Stupid little paranoias that won't leave you alone.

Someone… left a note for you. To tell you they would be returning. To you. The feeling in your throat hurts, and you can't identify it. Heat behind your eyes, a flutter in your chest. Far more delicate than the pulse of your core. Than the tremble of your weakened heart.

Suddenly you want to talk to him again, like the previous night. Hair brushed back, comforting you in ways you didn't believe possible. Shown what gentle hands can do, instead of scalpel.

It's nauseous, in a way that makes you feel like you're falling, down the side of that building, mist reaching out to grab you. The fall terrifies you, the inevitable landing comforts you. Except this feels like there's no ground to greet. It's horrifying.

You push the note into a draw, nestled amongst underwear, cheeks warm. You don't want anyone else in this cage to find it, to know there's even a little bit of something that doesn't hurt in this world.

Lest they steal it out of your hands, now you finally have seen it.

Even if you still think of cold eyes, and sharp tongue.

Finally finishing changing, you're leaving through the door, before colliding with a chest. You step back, go to whip out your dagger, to place it under chin… before your hand comes back empty.

The cold is back, biting and sore and violent.

Ah…

You lost it. The only thing that was yours.

"Unicorn?" You blink up at your problem, as forest green eyes soften, and a hand extends for a moment, moving from a fist to knock on your door, to extend to your cheek. You step back, avoiding the touch as Zayne flinches, pulling his hand back. "Are you feeling better now?"

There's no response to him that wouldn't be a lie, "Fine." You offer, even if the lie burns on the way out of your mouth.

You're shocked when he laughs, a soft chuckle in the back of his throat, and a finger pointed at your forehead. "You're sti- a terrible liar." You reach up to feel at the furrow in your brow, and sniff, pulling away from him. "Should you not get some more rest? I'm not aware I have anywhere to be."

"I do." He doesn't require pushing past, he seems to be given you plenty of room when you move, perhaps he's wary of your bite.

Or simply doesn't want to be get too close.

You suddenly want to sniff yourself, a weird sense of discomfort that perhaps you smell. It's a stupid thought, why would it matter if your prisoner thinks you smell.

It's fine. It has to be.

"Without me? I was under the impression I wouldn't be let out of your sight." His steps fall into place beside you, easily, unharried and in control. You wonder what it would take to really rattle him. To shake the doctor into disarray. If kidnapping and attack didn't leave him shaking in EVER's walls.

Maybe nothing.

Maybe the head of the red eyed man on his bed.

You shake the image away, unsettled. You do not want more reasons for guilt.

You don't want to have to fight him again. After all, needless bloodshed is dangerous… cruel…

Violence should be used strategically. Thanks for the lesson, crime boss. You're welcome, Kitten. I'd hate you to think me cruel. No. Never cruel, Sy.

You stumble over the ground, arm turning to ice when Zayne catches your elbow. Left arm in his grasp, while you almost shake him off, the nausea builds. Head splitting.

"Darling?"

The crackling on the outer edges, the colours flicking in and out, the ice cold chill and bloodied handprints.

They're a child, they deserve better than this. They barely remember, we're not hurting anyone. We're hurting them, part of them remembers. When they flinch, when they hide from us, their soul remembers, even when they don't. They're barely human, what we learn could-

"Darling!"

Ice around your elbow, a frozen over hand gripping you, the chill grounds. Hurts, hurts but the ground is under your knees.

Your heart pounds and races and thunders. Screaming at you, trying to break out of its cage.

Hand on your cheek, turning your head to careful eyes. You want to pull away from him, push the doctor back. It's not his business, you're the problem, you did this, you're a-

Monster.

Scalpel in chest, electricity coursing through limbs, cold analytical eyes as you scream.

"Ph- Philip." You croak out, forcing it through a closing throat, through the pain in your chest. Desperate. You claw at the ground with the only one of your limbs you can control. It's grotesque carapace scratching into cold rubber ground.

Swirling and falling, sparking heat in your skin, a mess in your head, the yelling of the shadows…

You slip back under.

—------

You're under the ocean. Surrounded by fish, beautiful colours of rainbow.

The sea is pink, a whale sings as it passes you by.

You can breathe, turning carefully to avoid the jellyfish that float beside you, luminous and beautiful. Dancing on a current too small to take your own body. When you extend your right hand to them, silver metal glints back at you. Bubbling around the water.

A blue fish painted into the casing, as you look at it, waiting, you think it twists for a moment, before you're drawn back to the song of the whale.

A voice supplies in your head that it's young, you kick out, following it. Forcing yourself to remember how to swim.

Something EVER never taught you to do.

As you approach, the pink of the ocean darkens, slipping into red. The whale cries out, its song dipping into a eulogy.

Heartbroken, as it twists, and turns and sinks. Flesh melting away, bones falling through the ocean, further down than you can see into the darkness.

You reach a hand out, the silver darkening, cracks breaking apart the metal and the painted fish. Maybe if you- If you can reach- you can-

Clawing at the space where the bones fall through your grasp, where fish flee, where you watch it sink, your legs turn to lead.

You kick, and you reach, as the water fills your lungs. As it recedes into your body, pulled through your throat as you open it to scream.

As you watch the ocean turn to desert as you drown inside. Sinking into the cage of the whale fall, it's ribs your prison, and its haunted song turning to broken radio static.

What did you do?

There's a dagger in your claw, it drips black ichor over sand and you choke on water.

I have no need for traitors.

—----

You're warm, the chill in your body gone, despite the sore remnants of your broken heart's bloody chill still thrumming under your sternum. Your claw isn't attached, you realise as you try to reach out with it. Residual limb itching.

Instead, you reach out with your left. Hand touching something soft. You blink through the haze, the bleary vision, to see a blanket draped over you. It feels like fur, you think absently. Brushing your fingers through it, something twitches in the back of your mind.

Cats, curled up on laps, purring as gentle hands stroke behind ears.

Don't worry, the doctor will take good care of you.

I will if you stop hogging our patients.

Sharp spike of pain in your temples, you shake your head. The rattling only making your nausea rear its head again.

"You back with us, Unicorn?" A hand steadies your head, you pull away to glare, only to recognise Philip, who sits at your side. Looking over your chart. "Thought we were going to have more problems then, your doctor knows his stuff."

"What are you-" You look over, at the doctor in question, head leaned against the bottom of the surgical bed you're lay on. Pillowed against his crossed arms, glasses pushed up on his head. "I… What…" You tremble inside, and carefully pull your feet up. So you do not accidentally knock him.

You're not sure why. Something tells you he sleeps almost as little as you do.

You don't know why you care.

It shouldn't matter.

"What happened?"

Philip sits back, pulling his goggles back to sit around his neck, and ruffles his greying hair, "Well kid, I was hoping you'd tell me that. Your core spiked, large burst of energy, it almost shut your heart down. We got you in here, gave you some meds, hooked you up to my machine and stabilised you." He extends the tablet so you can read, even if you don't really understand what you're looking at for the most part. Numbers, more numbers, then lines.

An electrocardiogram.

It's rapid, and uneven, then it stops. Flat. Before it picks back up again. Steady. You press your hand to your chest, feeling it. Where the weak beat can barely be touched, a tiny broken little thing, desperately forcing the blood through your body.

"You had what looks like a heart attack, then you went into asystole." A vague feeling, like you've heard the term before, but can't pull the meaning into your mind. You can work it out though. A flat line on the rhythm of your heart, where it turned to silence. "The doctor did CPR, honestly, I- It was close."

You frown, staring at the line. It's long, stretches out across the ecg. Too long. It's too long.

You feel something twitching at the back of your mind, a sickness that won't be forgotten.

It just scurries away when you try to look at it properly. A shade that haunts but will not speak, so you can solve its unresolved issues that keep it tethered.

"I was hoping you could tell me what caused it." He pulls his tablet back out of your hands, turning to his notes.

You want to answer, looking over at the sleeping doctor, stress lining around eyes you know to be kind, even if you think he might be a fool for it. There's nothing to say, though, you're not sure. You… you're not sure. You tell yourself.

Except you do. Seeing ghosts, hearing voices. Your mind might be breaking, and pulling your already useless heart along with it.

A steady hand presses to your knee, and you look up at the scientist who offers you comfort when he can. When no one else would. One you can trust, enough to go to him when you thought you might be dying. One you trusted not to kill your charge.

Even if it was just a little bit, even if it was because you doubt him capable of violence.

Many scientists in this compound, so many capable of horrific acts of violence. Even if their arms were far more fragile, than the claw they attached to you.

You move your knee away from him, twitching away from the feeling of his gloves, and turn your face away. It aches, to be weak.

If you're weak, do they have any use for you here? What becomes of Caleb if you're marked for disposal? The doctor, with no one to protect him?

Aren't you more useful a tool, than whatever you are becoming to ghosts?

"Do your memories haunt you, Philip?"

You don't look at him, staring down at your hand, clenching and unclenching in your lap. Desperate. If only you had your dagger, something to hold. A reminder of who you were.

If you were anyone.

He exhales at your side, and that draws your attention, as he sits back in his chair again. Hand moving to his goggles, toying with the straps, twisting them around a finger. "Haunt me?"

His brow is furrowing as he thinks, you nod, and you worry you've said something crazy. Crazier than normal, you suppose, with the life you're leading. Blood caught under your nails, and in the cracks of your carapace. There is no normal here. "Like you… you turn a corner, and you see things, that aren't there?"

"Are you having hallucinations?"

"No. No… maybe." You feel all the weight on your shoulders when you sigh, aching, so heavy. It's all so much. "It's-" How can you even try to explain it, to put to words how tired you feel. Without bringing EVER down on your head.

You want to be fixed, you do. If the static goes away you'll be you again, right?

Whoever that person is.

You just don't know if you want the agony of what they'd do to fix you.

He leans forwards, and that familiar warm smile comes to his face, the kind that often greets you when you're trembling after an episode. The kind that reminds you he's careful with his tests. The kind that reminds you he keeps as many secrets for you as he can.

Hard to keep them all, with so many eyes around the place. Still, here is as safe as anywhere can be. At least you have no direct eyes on you.

"I hear things, voices I don't recognise. Noise in my head, like crackling." You don't know how else to describe it. The way it feels like you drop out from your body, into a broken image you can't see. The pain that has started to get worse and worse, like you're being punished. Punished for emotions and memories that aren't even yours. That you don't understand.

Like someone else is stuck in your mind. Screaming to claw out.

Alien.

"I don't have many memories left," Philip speaks, he walks over to the side, pouring out some coffee into a cup, and bringing it back to shove into your cold hands. The heat of it is comforting, but it makes the spark of static rip through the back of your eyes. He steadies your hands until it passes, but the scent leaves you with an aching emptiness in your chest.

It always hurts so much.

What were you, before you were this, that it aches so deeply?

"Whatever my life was like before, I don't remember it."

"Nothing?"

"No, I asked them to remove them. Well, I believe I did."

You're stunned at it, to request EVER to remove your memories… You'd heard stories, you'd wondered maybe it could fix whatever was wrong with you. To offer up your brain? It was easier thinking every vile beast here worked off their own backs for the monster that is EVER.

"Why? Why would you-" Lose who you were? Ask to have your place in the world taken away? Be alone. Here…

He fidgets a little, getting comfortable, and his smile is so sad, as he looks at you. It pierces your chest, the tears tremouring in the backs of his eyes. Like they can't break through, no matter how much they want to. "I was raised by EVER, with my twin, we underwent tests. I don't remember much of them, I don't remember much other than we weren't the only ones to go through it. I remember that one test didn't work out. My twin, Philip-" You frown, "didn't make it. They told me he died."

You want to ask, but you don't know how to. It's more than you've ever inquired from anyone already, hesitating on the edge of vulnerability, and hating every second of it. It is only that he responds with his own, that you don't leave the room.

"I took his name, I don't remember my own. We were connected, more than most people are. Felt each other's pains, emotions, everything. When he died, it was too much I think. All of what I had known was taken from me. My brother was gone, and I was all alone. I didn't know what to do, Leon offered me work with him. To keep studying the cores at his side, but I couldn't see past the emptiness."

Emptiness.

Like something is missing. Always missing.

"Leon told me EVER offered me the chance to forget it all, all the pain. That it would help me move forwards, make me capable of working, stopping it from happening to anyone else. So I accepted. Maybe I didn't want to have anyone suffer through what I did, losing the other half of their soul. Their closest friend. Maybe I just wanted it to stop, but I was a coward and couldn't do it myself." He laughs, but it's humourless, and the sound aches to hear, like he finds the very thought pathetic, "Maybe I was just willing to take the first option presented to me, how unlike a scientist.

"I don't remember anything though. My brother, I don't know what he looked like. If we were identical or not. I don't remember who he was as a person. I don't know how we spent our time together, what he sounded like, I don't remember anything. Just his name, because I've made it mine before they took it away. Before I-" He chokes on it, "Gave it away. Sometimes I wake up in agony, like I want to cry, but I can't."

You reach over, very carefully, to touch the top of his hand with your own. Stunned when he smiles at you warmly again, squeezing your fingers before it grows too much and you have to pull back. "Why do you still work for them?"

"Because I'm a foolish old man now, kid. I believed I could help people like me, but little changed, but now I can at least help with that heart of yours. Keep that core stable, maybe that's atonement. Something I owe to him. For forgetting him, for agreeing to forget him, like he didn't matter."

Is helping you really atonement, with all the blood on your hands, and the people you hurt for them? The inescapable prison, of the monster far bigger than you, that keeps you here. That even death can't seem to free you from.

You think about the flat line of your heart, for over two minutes.

"Some memories, Unicorn, might be worth forgetting. Not everyone wants to live with them, and that's your choice. If I can give you any advice though, don't tell them. Don't forget. Whatever is there, lurking at the back, it's precious because it's part of you."

"There's little precious about me, Philip." The name now sticks as you say it, but you remind yourself it's not like Unicorn, or Little Bomb.

It's warmer, a memory.

'Kitten' 'Starlight' 'Darling' 'Cutie' 'Pipsqueak'

Is that how it's supposed to feel?

"Whatever memories I have, maybe they're bad, maybe I'm- I was- I-" It doesn't come.

Monster.

A monster.

Maybe you were a monster.

Always this thing, that kills or hurts. You're good at it. You have to have been good for a long time, surely.

When Leon talks about you, it's with the acknowledgement in his voice that you are dangerous, a weapon.

Were you always sharp, and angry?

Or were you empty, unfeeling, cold?

What kind of person could you be, that you can't even be happy that Caleb is back? Someone who should matter. Was your heart that broken and worthless?

"Kid, the good thing about humans, is we're capable of changing. I don't think you're a bad person, I think you're as capable of good as you are of cruelty. It's your choice what to do with your own hand." He pats your knee again, "A terrible person wouldn't leave me cakes when they pass by my lab late at night."

You feel your cheeks heat up quickly. You were sure he wouldn't notice, or even come to think it was you. Pastries ferreted away on your rare escapes, brought back and left in an empty lab. A thanks for each time the tests didn't hurt. Even if you could never say the words out loud. Torn between anger and hurt, that he had any hand in your tests at all. A mess of feelings you couldn't untangle.

Leaving behind a desire to at least make sure he ate something.

The next scientist would be worse, after all, you assure yourself.

"I need to make sure you eat."

"I eat far more than you do, Unicorn."

You have no argument for that, turning your face away to look down at the doctor who still sleeps, you spot the slightest bruise poking out from his collar.

The broken heart drops.

You'd left a mark, on his skin.

It's not murder, you've done worse, but you want to be sick, at the very idea.

Capable of good, huh?

"Can we get memories back?"

"It's hard to say, some never get their memories back after trauma, others do. There's no sign you've had your mind meddled with, and if they're coming through, there's a chance you're closer to remembering than you'd expect."

You aren't sure if you want to tell him it's getting harder, more frequent.

Painful.

"If the strain of it, is effecting your heart, then perhaps we need to up your suppressants. I'll have a look into it for you, see what we can try to help alleviate the strain on your body. You need to eat more, and get proper sleep. That's not helping strengthen your body. Your protocore syndrome will just get harder to balance and treat."

"So my options are forget, remember and possibly die, or eat vegetables?" You grumble, downing the last of your, now cold, coffee.

His laugh almost makes you smile, but you nod, "I'll… try." You'll try, to eat, through the nausea. Maybe if you have a goal, the food here won't burn on the way down.

Or maybe you can take Caleb up on his offer to cook… will that be better?

You can't exactly bring Zayne out of the compound, and you can't leave his side.

"Unicorn, just try, whether you accept it or not, I would miss you if something happened to you." You want to think Caleb would too, that he'd be sad if you were gone, truly. "Doctor Li too."

"What?" You blink at him, then at the doctor.

"He was focused, never seen someone act more like a machine. Then when you were safe, he sat down there, and refused to move."

"I'm his prison guard." No, that's not right. "He's a good doctor."

Darling!

You exhale on a shake, hand twitching to reach out to him, before you raise it to scratch at the back of your neck. A little too rough, the skin stinging under blunt nails.

"Whatever he is, Unicorn, he didn't want you to die."

If you were him… would you have saved your prison guard? No, you wouldn't. You know you wouldn't. You would have let your own heart shatter. Let your body fail you.

You would not have rushed to help.

Zayne Li, a mystery of a man, with too bleeding a heart.

"Philip, I don't suppose you could get me something?"

—------

Rafayel paces the room. Kicking over one of the easels he can't bear to put away. A half finished painting sits on it, a beach view he had shared with you. Sitting watching the colours over the ocean. Candles along the beach, a picnic with rowdy voices. There's part of the sketch of figures, that he can't bring himself to finish.

Even less so now, that yet another of his loved ones has disappeared.

He's still dripping all over the floor, his scales haven't resettled into skin. His agitation and anger not eased at all. He feels the ache in his limbs, legs sore, but he can't stop pacing. Walking around in circles, burning like a roaring flame under his skin.

As if his hatred for EVER could get worse. The image of his people in their tanks, bone white and lifeless.

The worst of humans, cruel, always after what his people have left behind. Sending their dogs into Lemurian ruins. Stealing, destroying, hunting.

The storm outside worsens. Lightning ripping through the sky, as he hears the rain hitting the windows with force.

He needs to be out there, doing something, maybe if he finds Raincoat, he can get answers out of him. Even if it means a new Raincoat rears their head in the place of his corpse.

"Fish?" Rafayel does not turn, he feels like biting, like drowning. He wants to hurt, for all the pains he is feeling. "Come on now fish, talk to me." The hand is placed on his still wet bicep, turning him around. He looks up at Sylus, whose face is steady enough. Too steady.

Why is he always so steady?

"What do you want?"

"To talk to you, fish, you've been avoiding me and the prince."

Of course he had, he can't keep looking at what he could lose right in front of his eyes. Then he gets angry again, angry that he keeps losing things. Everytime it seems to be better, he forgets that loss is just there waiting to grasp at him.

"What do you want me to say Sylus? They're gone."

"It's going to be ok-"

He pushes the hand away, and steps away from Sylus, baring fangs at him as he snarls, "How? How is any of this ok? They're gone, they're gone and EVER could be doing anything to them-"

"Fish- Rafayel, you have to calm dow-"

"I don't want to be calm." He pushes over another easel, staring at the pink sunset painted ocean on the ground. Then chokes on the sob he wants to release but also refuses to, he wants to be angry. He doesn't want to hurt. "How are you so calm? Why aren't you angry? Why aren't you breathing fire all over the place, dragon?"

He throws his paintbrush holder across the room, watches the painted porcelain shatter, wishes he could bring himself to feel anything other than hurt.

"Or don't you feel anything?" He rounds on Sylus, hands in fists, flames flicking over his skin, "Empty dragon with nothing in his heart, so unbothered, so calm." He wishes he didn't see the pain flickering through garnet eyes. He shouldn't be saying this.

He shouldn't be saying this, but he can't stop. It hurts, it hurts, why can't everyone else hurt too, when it hurts him so much. "You're so calm, so much better than us." His voice breaks, the tremor coming out, and he feels pathetic.

Why won't it stop hurting?

"I'm trying to be calm for all of us." The voice is steady, like he's fighting through to keep it there. Sylus watches him, eyes never straying, even when the red dims.

"I don't want you to be calm. You should be angry!" He turns, marching to his studio bed, pushing over another easel as he does. A desert, with an oasis. A memory of opening up for the first time, truly sharing his heart. Why did he share it, just to hurt so much now?

He sits, staring down at his hands, at the trembling fish in his palm. A fish without a master.

Sylus kneels in front of him, looking up into tear filled eyes, brushes back hair so he can look into them. Rafayel cannot help himself leaning into it, the pain eases at the contact, but then comes back. Tearing at his chest, where his bond sits. Unanswered.

"I am angry. I am hurt. I am scared."

It tears the fight out of him, the air out of his lungs. "Oh."

Of course he is, Rafayel knows. Sylus feels so much, he cannot always show it, but he feels it. Deeply. He should have known better. He wants to cry more now, the burn behind his eyes is agony.

"But I have to be here, for you, for Xavier. I have to keep it together, for Zayne, for Kitten. I have to keep moving, Rafayel. I feel it, I promise."

"I know, fuck, Sylus, I'm sorry." He presses his hand to over Sylus' heart, the uneven, unsteady thrum. It's two joined beats. Two hearts he knows better than his own even. A sound he has slept to. A sound he could sing easily. Rafayel can never forget how any of his loved ones' hearts sound.

A lifeline.

"It hurts." He hiccups, hand tightening in Sylus' shirt, and his eyes spill over. The steady flow down his cheeks, the tinkling as they hit the floor, but he can barely be bothered to look as pearly tears scatter.

"I know Rafayel, I know it does." The warm hand over Rafayel's is slightly shaking, but steadies against his skin. Holding tightly. Another lifeline. His feet are back on land, and his heart doesn't want to shatter. Safety, and home.

Things that are worth fighting for. Yet it still aches, a memory of you fleeing him. Coming home to Sylus injured and struggling to move on the ground.

"Will we?"

Can things be alright again? Or will he lose yet another colour in his palette? Again. Over and over.

Is that all he has to accept in his life, to lose, everything, every time he blinks.

His head is tilted up, from his lap, to be held by red. Blazing and bright, full of righteous anger. A dragon who has been stolen from. "Fish. I travelled planets for them. Xavier travelled through time. You travelled the world. Are you so ready to give up now? Is that how little your bond means?"

"Of course not!" He snaps, and then breathes. No. His bond means the world. A lemurian's greatest strength and greatest weakness lies in their love. His bond marks him, brings his heart to life. Without it, colours lose meaning. His strength will not waver, while any chance exists. "Of course not." Said softer, steady, buoyed by the fiend at his feet.

"Then we'll find them."

"I just-" He exhales, "It was finally right, Sylus. It was perfect." Every day was warm, his home was something he was excited to return to. Every day he spent with someone he cared for, he loved. He could call, and text and always stay connected. To those who gave colours meaning.

Sylus' answering laugh is very soft, and very small. There's a quirk to his lips, eyes molten, "I know, Rafayel."

"I was happy."

"I know."

"I'm scared to lose it."

"I know, Rafayel. I really do." He reaches forwards, arms around Sylus' neck, buying his face in his skin. The man stands, lifting him, so that he can sit on the bed, and hold him. "We'll get them both back. I promise, Rafayel."

His voice is wet when he finally manages to respond, trembling around the edges, and he doesn't want to be seen, so he stays stuck to Sylus, "Raffy."

"Mhm?"

"Just for once, you get to use it."

The chuckle rumbles through him, and the warmth of a kiss is pressed to the top of his head, "It will be ok, Raffy."

It will, because it has to be. He can't lose anyone again. None of them can.

—---

Rafayel watches as Xavier cooks. He has little energy to do much besides keep an eye on any fire risks. Sylus had long gone, seeking out some information about the tracker he had planted on Zayne.

While he waits, hungry for a lot of things, Rafayel thinks, he stares at Xavier.

There's a coldness to him, like he's pulling away, and Rafayel isn't sure he can blame him. Living as long as any of them had, except for Zayne, he supposes, leaves you tired of grief. He knows Xavier blames himself. Not being there, on the mission you vanished on. Not being able to stop you, coming away with that deep gash in his chest.

Sometimes he looks like he's waiting for Rafayel to blame him. Anyone really. Waiting for them to call him a failure.

A worthless knight.

He has hurt too many people already, Rafayel thinks. Remembering the agony in Sylus' eyes as he'd thrown hurtful word after hurtful word. "Xavier."

The man doesn't speak, half nodding as he resumes working, busy hands chopping away. "It's not your fault."

Rafayel could spout poetry, speak around the issue, but he doesn't want them hurting. He doesn't want the knight's heart to shatter like a damaged sword.

He doesn't respond, but his hand trembles, the knife missing its target.

"If it's your fault, then it's all of our faults. We all failed."

"You didn't-"

"Stop them? Grab them in that cafe? I could have chained them up, dragged them back. I didn't."

He should have, but he'd been shocked, and shaken into inaction. His hands had frozen and so had his mind and heart. He was a capable fighter, an assassin. He'd plotted and killed many a man, all under your nose, all behind your back. He was not a fool, he was not useless. While he had hired you as a bodyguard, the truth always remained that he had no use for one.

His bounty had not been earned for nothing.

For all his secrets, for all the blood on his hands, he'd never wanted you to see that side. Even if he knew you wanted to. When you got back, he would. Finally, stop running, stop hiding. If almost losing you hurt this much, left him with regrets that could fill the ocean, he would change it.

"I never should have let them take that mission alone."

"Did you know EVER would grab them?"

Xavier's eyes narrow, turning on him, "How could you-"

"You didn't, because if you did, you would have been there. Not all of us can turn back time, and even you have limitations for it, star." There are few second chances, if they could, they would all go back. He has often wanted to redo bad choices. Change the past. If he could, he would do it in moments.

The present is all he has, all Xavier has.

"What good a partner am I?" It's quiet, but bitter. He rarely shares all the agony in his heart. Insular, before he opened up to you and to them. He has even now, only just started sharing his secrets. "I couldn't protect them. Any time they need me." The last part is almost too quiet, and Rafayel is relieved for his non-human hearing.

Regrets ran deep in his home, he supposed. In you, though you refused to share them and kept marching ahead even when you were bleeding and drowning. In Sylus, though he took them a challenge, bloodied hands still reaching forwards. In Zayne, using them as a way to get stronger, to create stronger walls. In Xavier, a sharpening stone for his blade, and a reminder of what motivated him. In himself, chains that kept him tethered… an ache under scales.

"I don't know why you don't blame me." Xavier speaks again, stirring a pot, pointedly looking down at it.

He can't blame Xavier, because there's no blame to be found. "If I'm blaming anyone, it's EVER."

The star's shoulders flinch. Jumping up, and his spoon clatters against the side of the pot. A sigh, careful hand takes it up, and resumes. "Right. It's EVER's fault."

He finally stands, rounding the corner of the kitchen counter, turning the heat of the stove off, and nudging Xavier into the seat. "Sit."

Xavier frowns, looking ready to argue, so Rafayel walks off, collects bunbun from the pile of plushies, and shoves him into Xavier's hands. "Your rabbit is sad, he needs some company."

"Rafayel-"

"No arguing, I can cook just fine." He picks back up where Xavier left off, watches as the prince places his chin on the top of the giant plushie. "You can get some sleep if you want?"

"Can't."

"What?" Of all the things he's heard, the prince not being able to sleep is not one of them. Though, when he thinks. He realises that in all his grief, the noise of it, that Xavier had not once lay down and gotten any rest. Drifting around from mission to mission, when he was not, he was investigating.

The bags under his eyes were now crystal clear.

"I just see them. Standing there." He buries his face into bunbun's head. Voice muffled, just barely picked up, "They don't recognise me, and they're so angry. Struggling in Sylus' arms. I see what EVER did to them, and I hear it in my head. That it's my fault."

Rafayel switches the hob off again, putting the pot in the cold oven, if he comes back to it, he comes back to it. There are more important things to worry about.

"Come on, food later. Sleep now." He makes his way to Xavier, hand gently easing the man out of the chair. Who blearily stumbles, like it's caught up to him. Like speaking the words has reminded him how tired he is.

Rafayel can't say he doesn't understand it. The exhaustion that sets in after the emotions. He feels it after his bath, after singing as loudly as he can, to air out all the agony in his heart. He never sung enough for you. The idea of losing that now…

The bedroom is tidy, but clearly not slept in. The longer time has gone, between Xavier not sleeping at all, Rafayel wondered if Sylus had even tried either. He had fallen asleep in the bath a few times, but that had not been for long. Lying down, he pulled Xavier into his arms, tucking his head under his chin, placing bunbun to the side. "If you can't sleep, at least lie down." Rafayel spoke, tucking them both in.

"Bossy." Xavier laughs, but it's so drained, and so broken, it sounds more like a choke.

He can't do much else, Rafayel thinks, never particularly sure how to ease the prince, who keeps everything so close to his chest. So he wraps his arms around him, carefully drawing patterns against his back, just behind his neck, and listens for the evening of his breath.

"You've never given up before, starry prince." He speaks, absently, staring up at the ceiling, as he watches fluttering eyelids. "I doubt you have it in you to start now."

"No. I won't." Said on a sigh, against his collarbone. "Not now. Not ever."

Regrets and commitment ran strong in his home, Rafayel mused. Bloody and broken, but crawling onwards.

It would make for a beautiful painting.

—--------

"What is this?"

"It's a tracker."

Zayne turns it in his hand, then looks at you with a brow raised. There's amusement in his eyes, but you choose to ignore it. "If you're in danger, you press that button, just in case you're not next to me. I'll be able to find you then."

"Ah, work smarter, and not harder?"

You snort, walking ahead of him, as you head down the hallway towards Leon's lab. "You can always throw it away, take the risk, see if anyone crawls out of the woodworks for your head."

"What a welcoming place this is, one part prison, one part venomous snake pit."

"EVER enjoy making people feel welcome." You're not ready for the words to come out with quite so much venom. Something uncomfortable in your stomach.

"So what else is that in your hand?"

You move the bag you're carrying behind your back, huffing, "You're very nosy for a man in danger, Doctor Li."

"Really now, have I gone back to Doctor?"

"Zayne."

"Much better."

You're not sure why that makes your stomach flip, you're willing to blame it on the soft look in his eyes as he looks at you. It unnerves you, as much as it warms. Perhaps he wasn't calm and in control, and he'd simply broken somewhere along the way.

"I believed I was under your protection anyway?" You look at him, only to find him purposefully looking away from you. You don't miss the quirk to his lips, "What safer place is there to be in this maze of white?"

"Has anyone ever told you, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?"

"Ah, but isn't it still a form of wit?"

You refuse to laugh. Pushing the door open to Leon's lab, to find him poring over documents. You put some extra force into it, slamming the door back against the wall. You hear something rattle and fall, and ignore the dirty look you receive, heading over to the coffee pot.

"Little Bomb, is it so hard to learn manners?"

"Where would I have learned them Leon? You? Do mad scientists have a good basis for manners? What about glee filled torturers?" You pour a cup, looking back to Zayne, "Want a hot chocolate?"

He nods, glancing between the two of you, as though trying to puzzle it out, "Please."

"Helping yourself to my cupboard again, Little Bomb?"

"What's yours is mine, right Leon? After all, you're my keeper." You spit the words, stirring Zayne's cup far more carefully than you stir your own. Unsure why, as you carry it over to him. "Here."

"Thank you."

"Any updates?" You aim at Leon, spilling more coffee as you lift the mug up. He stares at you, then looks down at the side. With very slow movements, you reach over for a tissue, wipe up some of it, then throw the tissue into the sink. "There we go."

You watch the tick in his jaw twitch. Irritation in his eyes.

Good.

"No new jobs, your job is to protect Doctor Li. If you want to be useful, then convince him-" Leon aims his sickening smile at Zayne then, who does not bother to respond or even look at him, sipping comfortably from his cup, "to work for us."

Us…

"Not in my job description. I do what tasks are handed to me by people higher than you, Leon."

"Then you'll be guarding him for a while longer."

You bare fangs at Leon, glinting and sharp, and speak at Zayne, without turning your focus away, "Hear that Doctor, you're stuck with me for longer."

"Ah, the disaster." He deadpans, "My prison experience has further deteriorated."

Leon rubs at the bridge of his nose, "If you wish to be a pain to someone else, I believe Raincoat was looking for you."

You can feel forest eyes on you, as you flinch. Another issue on top of your current ones. Nothing Raincoat wanted was good. He either wanted help, wanted to be a nuisance, wanted to boast, or simply wanted to test patience.

"I'm sure he'll find me at some point." You sit down on a table, near the doctor, watching him. He looks at you, head slightly tilted. You'd laugh if you weren't more careful, it's almost cute. "If you never meet Raincoat, count yourself lucky."

"My luck has landed me in the lap of EVER. I do not fancy my chances."

"Fair enough."

Leon scoffs, scribbling down on his paper, "Raincoat is just like you Little Bomb, a very handy weapon, when it works."

It's hard to stop yourself reaching over to wrap your claw around his throat. You would daydream about his face turning blue as he chokes without oxygen. Silencing him once and for all. Even if what he says is true, it still makes flames lick at your skin. You are nothing like Raincoat, not really.

He takes money. Kills for satisfaction and greed.

He never had to be here.

It aches in your residual limb, a pain you can't pinpoint. Maybe if you had any kind of memory, you would know why each part hurts, why you feel things you can't control.

You still haven't decided if you want to remember, but Philip's words have been playing in your head. The pain in his eyes.

Before you'd woken up the sleeping doctor, you think about him patting your shoulder, as you refit your claw.

Try to trust yourself, kid. Keep your eyes open.

You're still not sure what he meant, even though you've played it over and over. Trusting yourself seemed an unlikely occurrence. You trusted your ability to fight, to kill, to fulfill your jobs.

Well, trust in terms of desperation. You didn't want to be strapped down again, carved up and out. Watching them twist and pry your core. There were times you vaguely remember them pulling it out, but that was all you could recall. The gleaming red, flickering as a hand tightened around it, before you woke back up, stitched back together and healing up.

When you worked hard, they left you be for longer. Satisfied you were performing well. Not needing to punish you.

Keeping your eyes open was easy. No one in the compound could be truly trusted, you're not even sure how much you can rely on Philip, despite him being the kindest one you know.

There is a part of you that separates him out. Puts him on a pile of other, not like the other scientists. You truly just hope you aren't proven wrong, or right, depending on how much of a wounded animal you feel like.

"So who is Rainco-"

"Now Unicorn, ain't you introduced your new friend to me?" You exhale, moving closer to Zayne's side, so that you can keep an eye on him and Raincoat. Two killers in a room with the nicest doctor you've ever met. You'd laugh at the joke, but the punchline doesn't feel funny.

"You're not a friend, and neither is he. Reluctant colleague, unlucky charge. There. Introductions done."

"Those people skills still need work, huh?" He strolls in, hands in his pockets, "One day you'll get good at it, Unicorn, don't worry about it."

"What is it with EVER and codenames?" Zayne speaks softly near you, raising a brow.

It is not missed by your new headache, who laughs, "Some of us don't have names, Doctor Li. Our codenames are all we have left."

You flinch inwardly. As he looks at you, glint in his eye. The violent urge to attack him, claw in his chest, rears its head. You force it down. Nauseous. All you have left, huh? Two names that make you sick to your stomach, and remind you of chains.

If you remember, and it's still all you have. If it's all you've ever had? Is that… is that better?

It can't be, surely.

There has to be more, there has to be.

"You also have your snide attitude left, Raincoat. How lucky for you." Zayne speaks out next to you, his even smile never leaving his face, but you do not miss the careful way he moves forwards.

In front of you, just a little. Like you're the one who needs guarding.

Foolish, softhearted, idiot Doctor.

"What do you want, Raincoat? To spout more foolishness, or are you here for something important?"

"Can't I want to chat to a friend?"

"Like I've said before-"

"We're not friends, yes, yes. I can't believe you're in charge of guarding a doctor." His smile is wide, empty eyes and wide smile. Like a horrifying caricature of a person. You don't let him see the way your spine bristles, "They've put a prong collar on their favourite dog now, I see. What's next? FIling your fangs?"

If they ever try to file them, you promise to yourself your last moment with sharpened teeth will be tearing his throat out. When you crunch his larynx between your jaws, you cannot imagine a better service to the world, than taking out at least one Raincoat. Maybe the next one will be less unbearable.

"At least I do my work, and don't spend my time talking, Raincoat. Are you still disappointing your superiors? All those important jobs, taken out of your hands."

You watch his smile twitch, the emptiness in his eyes spark with irritation, but it's short lived. If nothing else, the man controls himself.

Shame, you would love to see him crack and fissure.

"I suppose you're right, we're the furthest from friends, I'd pick mine far better than some feral dog."

"Do you even have any? I'm sure-"

"Are you two going to keep arguing like children in my lab? If so, I'm going to go to a meeting. Leave it in one piece when you're done." Leon stands, pushing his chair back in, picking up his papers and walking off. You barely glance at him, keeping a careful eye on the only real threat in the room.

A man who exaggeratedly waves at Leon as he walks past, "Bye bye, Doctor Leon."

Then he turns back to you, "Come on now, Unicorn, I'm not here to kill your charge, you can settle down a little bit. I was just curious. Can't imagine you being kept in a cage."

Is this whole thing not a cage? Every hallway, every room, every day spent here. He can leave freely, wander around. You're both dogs, he's just better at lying.

Perhaps if you'd ever been good at it, you'd be better off.

You can't lie at all, Starlight, you should leave the talking to me. I can do the mission! I know you can, but you'll start fidgeting and laughing if you try to lie. You've never been good at lying. It's cute.

You reach a hand out, steadying against the table to keep yourself from falling over. Raincoat's eyes go to your hand, then back up to you. It takes too long to right yourself. To breathe steadily again. You can feel him studying you, making notes. Weakness, presented to him. It's a chilling feeling, on top of the pain spiking through your head.

A reminder that just like you watch him for the day you have to kill him, that he does the same to you. That either one of you will end up on the list one day, and whoever is left will have to be the hunter. EVER's favoured dog.

If you're the one on the list, you will take him with you, no matter if it finally kills you.

A warmer hand settles you into a chair, and offers you water, which you down quickly. Feeling the icy chill of it, pulling you out of the world of static and broken images. "You should eat."

It's warmer than you deserve, you think, but indicate the bag you'd carried in.

"You bought cake? Oh Unicorn, you shouldn't have." Raincoat peeks over, looking in as Zayne takes things out. He purposefully pulls it away from the man, placing things in front of you, and then keeping close. "Really now, you're just as bad, Doctor Li, and I thought you enjoyed sharing. With cats, children, Onychinus' leader."

You flinch at the name, a caw in the back of your mind. The vision of a black raven streaking across the sky. An Arbiterwing, screeching an angry song as it swoops down.

He does not pay any attention to Raincoat, of which you're glad. The man presses buttons to test people's breaking points. The only reason he studies his targets is to torment them, break them down. You know his methods, you do not like that they are aimed at your charge. It's just… hard to see through the wavering in your eyes.

A macaron is placed in front of you, and the warm voice sounds nearby, "You got these from Destiny Cafe?"

You force a nod, "Philip-" It hurts, but as you shove it into your mouth, you're relieved that the familiar taste isn't ruined. Doesn't turn to ash in your mouth. Doesn't make you throw it back up. "Grabbed them for me." You say through a full mouth, "Strawberry macarons, like you said."

"How cute, you really have become friends."

The static eases back, and you finally find your strength, through the dull ache in your temples. Glaring, baring fangs at Raincoat, "If you want to annoy someone, do it elsewhere."

"Shame you might have to kill him at any point right? When he never agrees to help them."

Zayne's jaw ticks then, shoving a macaron into his own mouth. The temperature drops, and you feel the cold around you.

"Or hey, maybe they'll put a chip in his head too-"

Too?

"You talk far too much, I see no one ever taught you the lessons of humility and the value of silence." Zayne delivers, chilly tone and cold eyes.

Raincoat laughs, shrugging his shoulders and pulling away finally, grinning, "I guess not. I'll leave you be to your snacks then, Unicorn, and your new, and only, friend." He almost pats your shoulder, but you're aware enough to pull away from him. His hand passes through air and he smirks, "So antsy. Don't worry doggy."

You think about clamping your fangs around his hand and biting through the muscle. Reaching with your claw to tear his sternum out. He would taste like rot, you think, but maybe it would be worth it to finally quieten him.

You're sure everyone tied to EVER would taste like rot. You, Caleb, even Philip. He'd talked of atonement. Was that even possible?

You watch as Raincoat goes to leave, before the door swings open, and two figures, far smaller, barrel in and through him. Barely keeping himself on his own feet.

Two kids, you wouldn't be able to guess their ages from a look, but they only come up to Raincoat's mid-thigh.

"Where are they?"

"In here right? Everyone said they spend time in Mr Leon's lab."

"You?" One of them points at Raincoat, "Are you a Unicorn?"

"Excuse me?"

"No, Mori! He stinks, plus he doesn't have a cool arm."

"Morgie, look look!"

You feel a sense of foreboding, that tends to come when you've been spotted by someone with any level of combat skill. The kind that makes you turn in time to catch a dagger to the back. The kind that alerts you to wanderers as they appear behind you.

Except this is for two children, who barrel right through and up to you. Nigh-identical faces peering up at you, and then looking at the macarons the doctor was part way through devouring.

"What in the-" Raincoat exhales, walking further into the room as he watches.

"Can we try one?"

"What?"

"Or are they just for the man with the glasses?"

Zayne blinks, "There are children here?"

"Hey! We're eight!"

You want the static headache back, that one is familiar now, a feeling you're getting somewhat used to, despite the agony of it. This new headache, is loud. Hands reach out for the treats, before you finally snap out of it, "Hey, no. Who are you?"

They freeze, stepping back, and both bow in unison. Bending at the waist like dolls on string. When they stand back up, they're both wearing big grins, crooked teeth and curly black hair. One's eyes are dark blue, the other bears silver. One has their hair in a long side braid, the other has it free.

"Why are there children in EVER's compound?"

"You want the honest answer, Doctor Li?"

His jaw ticks, looking over at the twins who are watching the three of you, curious and amused, but still glancing down at the treats. Zayne exhales, pushing two over to the two, then begins to rub his head. Exhaustion coming back into his freshly rested body, you figure, as his shoulders slump.

"I'm Morrigan!" The one with the braid grins, their hands grubby as they shovel crumbs into their mouth.

The other one is neater, carefully nibbling the edges, "I'm Morgana."

"You should be with your handler, kids." Raincoat speaks out, looking out of his depth for the first time since you'd met him.

You'd laugh, if you didn't also feel at odds. Twins… your thoughts go to Philip. The initiative to test twins had never stopped, you'd heard it talked about. Whenever you had, you thought of twin baby crows for some reason. Hopping about and eating crumbs. Seeking out the shadow of a bigger one.

It was a small fleeting piece of static. It did not hurt as much, you thought, just… made you feel like you were missing something.

"Shouldn't you two have masks?" Escapes you, on an exhale, through the dull pain.

"What?"

"No… nevermind, it's nothing." You have to get it together, Raincoat would easily take any excuse to drag you in front of those higher up than Leon, if you begin fraying at the edges. Anymore than you already are.

They look at you, and shake their heads, but don't seem bothered by the question, too busy looking at the macarons, then back at you.

"We're looking for a Unicorn, they're going to train us!"

"Excuse me? I think-"

Raincoat laughs, actually laughs, looking at you like he cannot imagine anything funnier. You frown at him, resisting the urge to show the kids their first 'lesson'. How to rip a man's arms off, and beat him to death with them.

"You've got the wrong person, kids. This one has the social skills of a plank of wood."

"You're a Unicorn?"

"Unicorn, just Unicorn, not 'a' unicorn." You sigh, not sure why you're even bothering to argue with them. It's not as though you want the title. You just don't really like being compared to Raincoat. A title that passes down.

When you're gone, you hope that's it. No more beasts, with heads prepped for the sword to be plunged through. A macabre reminder of what EVER will do, even to things that are supposed to be unique.

"Hey mister, can we have another one?" You watch as their attention is taken from you, pointing at the bag. He acquiesces easily, offering them more. Even though his smile does not grow wider, you can't help the odd heat in your chest at the warmth in his eyes. You remember Raincoat's words. Offering sweets to children. It becomes easier to understand the way he is a good doctor, as you watch him.

The guilt settles heavier in your stomach. He shouldn't be here. He should be out there, doing something better. Not being tarred and sullied by EVER, and their cruelty.

They eat gleefully, and you watch them as they do.

Caleb, I want one of those! One day, pipsqueak. Will we have all kinds of sweets? Like them? We sure will, whenever you want, yeah? I'll get it. One day. Whatever you want. Promise? Promise, Pipsqueak. Always.

"This one is the Unicorn, you're looking for." Raincoat laughs, pointing at you.

You flinch as they round on you, with grubby hands and excited eyes, "You're real!"

"We thought they were teasing us."

"'Go find Unicorn, and get them to train you.'"

"'Then you can stick around, and we won't send you off.'"

"So we came to find you!"

The two are right in front of you, staring up at you with sparkling eyes, before you can even hope to prepare for it. You flinch back, and hear the soft laugh to your side, from a man who is having far too much fun, in his own prison.

The twins smile, you can tell they're trying their hardest to look as endearing as possible, as one of them tries to grab for your hand. Which you pull out of their reach quickly.

Avoiding being smeared with crumbs, and macaron filling. The idea appealing even less than the two kids clinging to you.

"Please train us!"

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