Actions

Work Header

poison blood from the pricked hand

Summary:

It hurts. !Cellbit realizing his presence is not welcome in the life of the one who vowed at the altar to keep him in his forever and always. However appearences are not just exactly what they look for.

Notes:

READ WARNINGS
- This is a fictional work about > characters <, the !'s are dropped for aesthetic purposes.
- Insipred by Tolerate it x The Prophecy - Taylor Swift.

Work Text:

It’s all a fragmented blur, blood splashed everywhere, faces of unknown bloody children and familiar faces of friends collaged together in one hellish dream, a nightmare. Night terrors as he remembers the correct term Roier told him when they were freshly wed as the topic of his disturbed sleep came to be. You didn’t need to be a professional to determine that Cellbit has been through trauma, and most likely was suffering from PTSD as a consequence of his years in “war”, as he chose to name his formative years. Ever since said talk, that generated an impromptu very unprofessional therapy session, he hadn’t had night terrors in months, as the mere presence of his lover, peacefully sleeping by his side, became enough to convince his inner self that he was finally safe.
Although, after Purgatory came and went, simply adding to the grand orquestra of traumatic memories his brain obsessively plays and replays, and even more later on, when he “escaped” back to Quesadilla island, said night terrors invited themselves into his now, very cold, lonely bed. In the time he spent back in Egg Island, after the whole “bomb moment” the night terrors were already back, his thoughts eating away at his brain, losing sight of any rationality as too much irrationalities had been perceived through his eyes. And he didn't have Roier to pacify him either, but that, at least, was a pain he chose.

One could argue his decision to stay behind and be separated from his husband was selfish, but it was anything if not selfless. For starters, one does not exactly plan on surviving an atomic bomb, so ultimately there was nothing to gain for him. His choice was made purely as he knows himself painfully well, and knows Roier just as well too. In the weeks building up to purgatory he had reached a personal mental limit, he threw logic out the window as logic showed itself to be obsolete anyways. He’d never considered himself a protagonist, fuck it, he never considered himself a good person to begin with, but he had the haunting realization that, in his most heroic costume he could wear, he had to be the one person to go to any lengths, to give up ANYTHING to finally give them some well deserved peace.
But it turns out with said realization also came the eerie knowledge that this path would lead him nowhere but destruction. His morals, his respect, and his own life being the most likely ending to his choices, still, what more could he lose before they didn’t get to have an ending at all. And as people’s general opinion towards him has never truly mattered if he knew what he was doing was right, only one opinion truly mattered to him. However, Roier wasn’t ever a worry in his mind, he’s far too familiar with how much the younger had suffered and how much he had lost by the hands of the federation. So it comes as no surprise when he shows full support and is immediately on board. It's a sad thought to just know the love of your life is just as broken as you.

And it’s just amidst the repetitive fights and sleepless nights he had in purgatory, that Cellbit knew that, unlike himself, Roier was not broken for good. His eyes ever so often still glimmered with hope for the future, for their future. Even if in moments you had to dig deep down to find said hope desperately holding on, it was still there. That same hope, for Cellbit, had been eradicated, as if it were an illness his system aggressively needed to exterminate, as its appearances had only been proven to bring him pain.

So it wasn’t quick, no, it can never be a quick thing to realize your choices and the path of destruction you know you must follow will bring down your lover to drown in the deep end with you, in full consciousness taking advantage of the fact that he would gladly go down with you. It sounds poetic , but it is not fair

Then after seeing their son brutally be crushed in front of his eyes, as he followed every rule until then to have any chances of getting him back, and knowing it was all a big play designed to make them miserable. He knew there was no hope, they either burned it all to ashes or gave up that so dreamt peace, only he had simply no fight left in him anymore. He had exhausted his own limits, he was too tired of trying, knowing he would fail.

Not telling Roier, that was a conscious choice, he could not give the man that would gladly blow up in his arms the chance to ever do it. In death he’d be bad for him, and so would he be in life. Of course he doesn’t think that little of himself to think his death wouldn't break him, he knows it would. But the pain he was causing was minuscule compared to the pain he could come to cause, it’s a losing game and Cellbit was picking his losses for him. And in an almost sadistic irony, he survived it, by mere chance his mask protected him from the gasses. He had no intentions in coming back, rather Roier presume he is dead, but that changed as his son, who apparently was also alive, came to rescue him.

And since coming to this strange place on the island, he has entered a robotic state, unsure how to live after being so sure he simply couldn’t . His night terrors return once he realized he could not have his lover close to bring him peace here. And it also doesn’t help his once buried hope had not died yet, it’s human nature to want to feel good. But it surely did not feel that way when he realized that, unlike what he had presumed, Roier was doing fine

It’s a ugly feeling to want someone you love to suffer in your absence but it turns out your presence was just the problem. He wonders if the sound of his own heart breaking isn’t audible to the whole island, as for him it’s deafening. He expected angry, he expected sad, but better was not what he expected him to be without him. He wanted him to grow from him, of course, but it seems his absence was not once an issue to begin with. But he understands, he knows his husband is entitled to his own emotions and it’s a good sign he can focus on being better apart from the chaos Cellbit inevitably brings.
It hurts, but at first it doesn’t pose itself as an issue, he can overlook it, Roier coped however he coped and in the end he’d be the one to blame anyways. They were together, finally, taking care of their, now two, beautiful children. His life felt like admiring a crystal ball, so beautiful but just as fragile. There was an unsettling feeling clawing it’s way out of his chest, it felt wrong to be met with such indifference. He tried to keep it locked inside, his upset over the situation not very welcome.
The first crack in the glass came days later, after being explicitly told by Roier that he was a bit sad after he abandoned him but he got over it. It feels wrong that the love of your life, the one who vowed to be by your side forever and always, would move on from you so quickly. A part of you wants to be angry, convinced you deserve nothing less than the undying forgiving love you’ve experienced the past months. But the domineering part of you bids your emotions everlasting silence. It’s your fault, you shouldn’t further ruin this. It’s not like things are bad, everything is just perfect, keep it as it is, picture perfect.

The next stab comes playfully, Roier excuses it as trying a new weapon out. It’s not like you’re weak or anything, it’s just the brutal force used, it does not match the soft gentleness your history promised was to last forever. As if he doesn’t even care. Confronting doesn’t help either, you’re just overthinking it, it’s just playful fun. Maybe you really are overthinking it. It’s hard to keep normalcy when what you feel is anything but normal. Feigned domesticity feels like walking around with cotton-filled ears. Walking a surrealistic painting portraying your self-made downfall. You tell yourself it’s the initial stab clouding your mind, everything is fine.
It’s a beautiful day filled with gray skies, a family outing. You missed those. Everything feels so perfect, so meant to be, you cannot allow yourself to ruin it any more. Putting up your best smiles and your best over saturated colors, you can fix this. It’s the ignoring of your safety that hurts first, but neglecting your children’s, that knocks you out. Maybe time away from you was what it took, what it took to realize you, and everything that comes with it, isn’t worth wasting your uncounted years on. And you just hope you didn’t waste your opportunity to be happy in your own uncounted years to come.
You two barely talk about the time you were gone. You presume it’s a sensitive topic, he never even brings it up. Maybe him not knowing why is for the best. He doesn’t care to ask what you did in that time and you can’t yearn any harder to know what he did in your absence. The information comes from various sources: first it’s from Phil, it’s more of a scolding than anything, but it’s through the reprehension of your own self doubt that you learn small glimpses of what Roier was doing and feeling. He was depressed.; It then comes as your youngest asks to talk to you in private, confessing to something that painfully resembles yourself. Amidst that same talk he says he didn’t trust this with Roier, he was too sad, and said killing was bad. It’s a perfect window to ask, should be wrong using a child’s vulnerability but he seemed okay talking about his dad. He was very depressed, for a long time, he was looking for you and then he disappeared. Further questioning isn’t helpful as the child isn’t much sure how to put into words what happened in the past months either. Disappearing you presumed meant maybe he went somewhere other’s couldn’t find.


You rarely spend time together, he seems uninterested in it. You try your best to keep your ice castle glistening, your perfect life shimmering. Routine is good, repetition keeps you grounded that everyday has been just perfect. Talking with your oldest is something you missed, you’re each other's best friend after all. It’s a starless midnight when you bring up Roier’s disappearance, and ask if he was in your Fear Room. He was, until he wasn’t. Richas says “he spent an awfully long amount of time there and in Base Guapita, but when he “came back”, he never went back”. It’s strange, even your strongest denial can’t overlook how unlike him that is. Unlike yourself, Roier isn’t much of an exile person, rather be close even in pain, feeling obliged to help others anyways. You shared every single known location, cleared the whole map together.
It shatters in a perfect evening, you and the whole family are over at your sister’s for dinner. The entire purgatory theme is avoided like the plague, justifiably, but at some point Bagi brings up the time before. Awkwardly apologizing for how she dealt with it, she didn’t fully understand yet the feeling of losing a child. “I think he was acting crazy.” Roier’s “joke” takes even your sister by surprise, clearly taken aback by the statement. “ That’s crazy coming from you Roier, you pulled your sword on me when I even implied he was insane.” 

The general ambiance stays calm and lighthearted, but you’re frozen. Body reacts as if you know someone is stalking you, and you find yourself in a dead end alley. Weird isn’t enough to cut what you feel, this feels wrong. The last conversation you and Roier had before leaving for Purgatory consisted of just that. Pure validation and support, Roier didn’t think you were crazy, he was just as insane as you, they made you that way. You know it, you both know it. He more than anyone, knows why you did it, fuck it he even wanted part in it. Your mistake isn’t enough for him to suddenly dismiss your own mentality, deem you insane for things he once condoned. You ask him, lightly, why he changed his mind. “Was kinda scared you would kill me too, haha”. Enigmas were always your thing and now sitting right next to you sat the most disturbing one you could ever solve, you don’t want to solve it, but the pieces are already connecting. Let me stay in this fairytale for a bit more, I beg.
But begging is no use, knowing is a double edged dagger after all, taking it out only means facing what is on the other end. And almost as if time wanted to stop, mark this moment before it broke to never be recovered, you start to realize. Isn’t it strange how Roier just vanished, you seriously considered before that they could’ve messed with his brain, made him more joyful. But this isn’t something they can change so easily, you know by experience. It’s uncanny really, you don’t understand it, but it doesn’t deny reality: this is not Roier. You have no idea what kind of fucked up experimentation the Federation cooked up this time but the man beside you is just not your husband. You don’t have time to panic though, flight or freeze kicks in and you pretend

Acting as though everything is perfectly okay proves itself to be quite easy, you’ve been doing it for the past weeks after all. The only change was in your mindset, the continuum of reaching for a perfect you would never find in him, turned into calculated moves, something in you in shackles you put it in, just a while more, a beast to be set free when opportunity arises. After leaving the infamous dinner, something in your mind simply flipped. It’s a struggle to keep track of your own trains of thought, they move in anything but cohesion. Thoughts of panic urge you into impulsive actions, thinking about your actual lover, his current unknown state you know nothing about and have no real clues to find out either. There’s the clingy self depreciation, that begs to know who are you to be upset if you didn’t catch on sooner. There’s anger, there’s sadness, there’s purpose. It all held on by a tight leash as you cannot afford losing it, not now, this isn’t about you anymore.
It may have been an unconscious move when you decided to probe around about the past island and the old things. You claimed those things, that life was in the past yet never stopped reaching for it. So maybe the stubbornness of your old ways is what gave you your only glimmer of hope. One of the workers had told you your old lost belongings were at your office. That is a starting place for someone who has no clue on how to navigate this. In an impromptu meeting you ask your boss for the coordinates to the offices, the “wedding rings situation”, that now seems a bit ridiculous, as an excuse. You just need to get your things, that's all. You ask “Roier” to come with, because you just missed spending time with him that much and it truly would be helpful, tasks wise. He agrees eagerly, it’s pathetic how excited he is to spend time with you, really.


It’s a really long trip, so beforehand you leave the kids with the person you trust the most on this island, Phil. You’ve learned your lesson from the previous rendez-vous, so you also leave him a note, asking him to read when you’ve already left, explaining the gist of it all alongside the coordinates you were given by the Federation. You can see in his eyes, he knows something is wrong, you don’t stick around long enough to see him be proven right though. It is genuinely a long trip, you intend to be there by midnight, a time you know is less likely to have fewer encounters.
If your sister were to know what you are doing, she’d have a few opinions on it, she would get the general motives of course, but some of your actions are far from necessary, sadistic even. It’s therapeutic if anything, the past months you’ve lived with so much pent up resentment you simply could not let out on who deserved it, the workers were the closest thing but even them didn’t mean that much to your far too rotten heart. It feels like a curse when the first time you felt loved by “Roier” since coming back feels gross. But that simply made you realize, he enjoyed your company, it’s pathetic how eager he was for a trip of just you two. You wonder if he plans on killing you, you just gave him the perfect opportunity. You could’ve been concerned if this were your real husband, but it’s not. A machine raised to kill can easily relearn its ways, and in Purgatory you did, you could kill him and not even lose a drop of sweat.

The way to his  final destination is fairly calm, you talk about past adventures you know mean nothing to him anyways. Indulging him, loving him, serves as motivation and fuel for the rage you so badly want to unleash. You don’t need to wait forever for it to be perfect anymore, this is your last waiting. You give the fairytale life he never graced you with, a secret poison seeping slowly in his veins when he tries to steal a kiss, calmly killing him in a deafening silence. It’s such a shame you know nothing about who this is, you know knowing would make hurting him so much better. You perform love as you’ve performed sane for so long, but he completely misses the lack of the spark in your eyes when you look at him, he never saw it before anyways.

The coordinates lead you to a fairly mundane place, no buildings in sight, not even a trace of anyone anywhere. It doesn’t surprise you as they’ve always been used to poorly hidden, poorly protected underground bases and just so you find a “hidden elevator” behind a “normal tree”. You don’t know why you expected anything grandiose but they haven’t changed much and you thought they would’ve, but this is just one of the offices anyways. It isn’t hard to locate the translucid windows of an office with a bright sign saying “CELLBIT” above its door. At this point you’ve given up on leaving this “job”, not like your want is taken into account and they’ll threaten you inside or outside so who cares? You’d rather have signed a pact with the Devil to leave this island, too late now.
The both of you move towards your office, “Roier” is in awe and you wonder just how many times he has been here before. Your office itself looks fairly boring, as it always was, but you see boxes and boxes labeled as clothes and belongings and you wonder just how they got to them. You genuinely do grab quite a few things, your dagger Rubro fits right where it belonged in your hands. You locate the rings quite easily really but swiftly hide them in a random piece of clothing you then pick up and store in your backpack, you notice a pile of paperwork and say “Maybe there’s a list of all the items, they always were way too perfectionists”, excusing yourself to read, asking “Roier” to keep rummaging. There’s plenty of useless paperwork, some investigative of the murders that brings a smirk out of your tense body. One however strikes your heart like a dagger, chilling your spine.







Project Cambiamentes
UPDATE: 12
DATE: 20231218
AUTHOR: REDACTED

As the presumed death (real status inconclusive; dormant) of the hand responsible for the loss in staff is a beneficiary turn of events, retrieval should be avoided in all ways. Subject Roier has been contained as a safety measure of the bureau, the procedure is advised as a temporary solution. The cambiamentes process, guided by his brother Doied, one of our finest scientists, transferred his mind to an easily manageable animal, while his body rests safely and harmless in a medically induced coma. ( See INP1082 at -23 120000 35000). The procedure was a success and is previewed to have no large effects on the subject.



Project Cambiamentes
UPDATE: 78

DATE: 20240202
AUTHOR: REDACTED

As higher order put in action the retrieval of Cellbit from Egg Island, ordered by the Security Sector, Dr. Doied volunteered to work infiltrated, taking his brother's dormant body to keep a closer eye on Cellbit. His procedure was riskier than his brother’s past one, but he provided the data concluding it was safe enough. His hollow body was induced into coma and shall stay with twice the check ups, as he is a valuable member of our staff ( See INP1082 at -23 120000 35000).









Cellbit’s hands tremble ever so slightly, anger making his mind hazy, the paper almost getting torn with how hard he is gripping it. He cannot bear to imagine what his husband went through, because of him. Having the one responsible right by your side, cheerfully singing a spanish song and staying put, not slicing his throat right there and then cost him a self control he forgot he could have in him. He instead grabs another paper, a list of items that actually existed as he presumed, getting up motivated. “Good, let's go. They moved some things from here to a storage facility. It’s the old observation place a was with Felps remember, they turned it into storage. The rings are over there.” He leaves no room for questioning, simply waltzing out straight to the exit.

The observation facility was in fact close to what he presumed is an Inpatient facility. He exclaims he knows the way over there, pocketing his compass. Keeping, who you know now is Doied, always a step ahead, never taking your eyes off of him. This time around the trip is eerily quiet, you wonder if he knows. Knowing won’t save him and if he has figured it out he knows it too. You are in fact going in the direction of the observation facility, but ever so slightly moving your path towards the coordinates ingrained in your mind as if they were your own birthdate. You arrive in a snowy environment, it almost reminds you of that one timer mission.
This time the entrance is way less hidden, you presume it’s on purpose, it’s a health facility after all. You can sense fear dripping from Doied’s body, but you insist “They just changed the entrance, I came here before purgatory.” So you both go down a bunker-esque entrance, mossy walls surround you and so does aggressive silence. You walk the only path you can seem to follow, until the oh-so-familiar white walls start embracing you. The best course of action is of course looking for elevators, you presume the numbers on the file meant floors. The place is rather empty, but so are most of their facilities anyways. You manage to find the elevators, well signalized in the back of what looks like a, very empty, reception. You press the “-10” button, you don’t try to justify it anymore at this point, you both know exactly where you are going.


The majestic *plim* of the elevator stopping at the chosen floor feels like a release to you. You’re met with a long hall, countless numbers of hospital units, extending until room 100.  You both walk quietly, Doied seems to be desperately searching around, looking through foggy windows for a sign of anyone. It wouldn’t save him anyways. You arrive at a door, right side and it reads “Room 82” and unlike the other rooms you’ve passed by, this one has 3 patient names instead of the usual one. “Patients: Doied; Roier; Subject1606”. You ever so gently position yourself behind Doied, pressing your precious dagger on his back and simply whispering “Get in.”. He complies, using his retinal scan to allow you both passage. You then see what you couldn’t through closed curtains, two beds, both taken, one by a small lab test rat, hooked to way too many cables and IV drips. And the other laid an almost identical copy of Roier, the body of the parasite standing at the tip of your blade.


The general machinery is blatantly obvious in one side of the room, both their vitals and symptoms stated in two big screens. In a last attempt of dominance Doied scoffs “You wouldn’t know what to do here anyways, and you know you can’t just kill me.” The presence of a man so pathetic makes the dam break as you start maniacally laughing at what you apparently just heard. “You are definitely the dumbest one, to think I wouldn’t notice and to know so little about me to think this little kids play is anything of a challenge. Don’t try to run away, it won’t work.” You grab the clothes you previously took from the offices, after removing Doied’s body not carefully at all from the cables, memorizing their order. With Rubro prickling Doied’s back, you force him down the empty bed, tying him to the structure of it in strong tight survival knots. As he is down he suddenly begins screaming, it’s futile, you both know all federation rooms are soundproof. You don't entertain him or try to shut him up at all. It’s not even sick how much you enjoy knowing he is suffering.
The machine seems complicated at first glance but it’s weirdly intuitive, almost as if you’ve seen it before. The subjects chosen are “Rat (Roier’s mind) switching with Roier (Doied’s mind)”. Federation be damned for all their perfection, as it made it all so much easier for you, as you press the confirm button and a loading screen appears. You notice Doied’s screaming quiet down, as he easily is knocked out by the sedatives. 

The wait feels like forever, your emotions attempting to dethrone your logic but it isn’t the right time, not yet. The machine makes a small *bling* as a bold capital letter message appears “ CAMBIAMENTES COMPLETE ”. Your next moves feel premeditated, you don’t think of doing them you simply do, the remaining logic in your brain allows you to turn off the coma inducing sedatives from Roier. Time feels like it passes in a second and also in all eternity as you wait for the prophetic moment when he wakes up. Your heart beats the loudest it has in months. It’s a twitch, a small frown in your husband's face, a sign you grew so accustomed to you didn’t realize how much you missed it.


He squints at the bright lights reflected in the white walls, as he looks in your direction he stays still, expression confused, you can’t tell if he’s unsure if you’re real or if he can barely make out who you are. “Guapito? Do you feel okay? I’m here honey, I’m here”. His expression lightens as his lips start quivering, eyes filling up in months awaited tears. He panicked and started ripping IV’s out, removing cables, as if he needs to be quick to not lose you again. You have no time to even formulate any sort of scolding as he weakly runs up to you, hugging you so weakly but so firmly, as he cries harder onto your shoulder. “Are you real?” is all his broken voice can utter. “Is this real enough?” you say just before gently holding his face and locking your lips and this is the only perfect you could ever look for. “Your breath smells” you say, feigning disgust, as you separate “And you definitely missed too many Saturdays”, that earns you a light punch on your shoulder, that moves you a bit to the side making Doied’s body evident, sitting on the floor, passed out, still breathing.
You could just leave him be, as a rat, that would be punishment enough, but the line has been crossed in your mind and you need to feel his blood on your hands. So you sit Roier down on the machine’s chair, giving him a snack you prepped for the trip. Doied’s body lifted back into the bed, hooked up to the cables as you memorized it. Same procedure, only in reverse, giving Doied his mind and conscience back. Although now waiting feels like hunting, defenseless little prey that doesn’t know you’re just waiting for the right time to attack. As soon as the procedure is done you follow up with removing the sedatives, you are viciously excited for what’s to come. You twirl the dagger in your hand leaning at the door, waiting for him to get up in panic, you don’t like an easy kill.


Unlike Roier, Doied wakes up almost as if from a nightmare, eyes wide, hand to his chest. If only his nightmare wasn’t better than reality. “I won’t take much of the time you have left, I’m sure you won’t answer my questions anyways, I’ll have Roier do that instead”, he makes no move to get up from his bed, body likely also exhausted. “I just want to know why. That’s all” Roier’s voice is small but not weak, he is fully aware of how much power he holds here. Doied gets up in irritation walking towards Roier to signs you to stay put. “You’re just a stupid failed experiment. It’s unacceptable that you managed to be so much more perfect… You’re discarded trash, yet you have it all”. Doied’s lisp grow stronger as his emotions rise. “Well then that’s not my fault now, is it Doied? Don’t you ever think of messing with my family ever again. “. Roier stands tall, likely Doied’s height but his posture makes him tower over him. Doied’s eyes betray him as he glances to the door’s panel, that is his last in a long line of mistakes.


“Can I guapito?” You ask, and receive simply a curt nod as Roier sits back down. Your eyes turn dark, pent up everything flowing down your veins like venom, tunnel vision kicks in and all you see is your target. The first strike is at his waist, a deep slice making scarlet blood gush onto your blade. Next comes a stab on his back, a literal one to match his metaphors. Then a stab on his right thigh, twisting the blade, brain frenzied to hear him yelp in agony. You don’t kill him yet, he falls to the floor, your mind is simply curious what he will do. As unpredictable as your thinking, Doied starts to beg, stating he can help. You find it amusing. Roier gets close enough, staring at his brother lying helpless on the floor, in thought. He asks, but does not whisper “Do you want to eat him?”, it takes you by surprise but your heart has never pounded this hard. “I know you like it, I don’t really give a shit, if it makes you happy.”, he completes.


Opening Doied’s chest staring into his dying eyes feels surreal, taking out his heart as a gift, it’ll serve for one good thing for one time. You can honor his lack of honor, and reclaim your own once flat-lined heart. You wrap it in some sterilized material you find, storing it in your backpack. Doied lies lifeless on the floor, he tried to take over Roier’s life and earned himself the end of his own. Getting out of here would be a challenge as Roier is too weak to walk, too slow to run. You check his teleporter that was amongst his things, the closest locations nearby. You grin, it’s very ironic, as the closest place to both of you is the place you fell in love, Base Guapita. “No better place to start fresh than where it all started, right? I’ll meet you there once again, Guapito.” You land him a chaste kiss, as you both teleport back to where your heart started beating, on its way to restart, once again.