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They were fucking idiots.
How could they have missed something like this?
///
Even with the gloves, Rudo’s hands still burn. The pain is something he’s grown to become used to, something he’s going to live with for his entire life. It’s hard to describe: like a blunt pressure on his hands at all times, an electric shock that travels from the tips of his fingers up to his elbows.
Some days are worse, and some are better. There’s never any with no pain at all.
It’s only been a month since his dad died, and Rudo feels like Regto’s blood has crusted over his soul. Encasing his heart in the lifeblood of the man who’d raised him, forcing his heart to beat shallowly in his chest.
He misses his dad so much he thinks his heart may stop, one day.
Today’s a bad day. Rudo curls himself around his hands, lightning bolts of agony making him grit his teeth against the mind-numbing pain. Tears escape his eyes against his will, and he can’t even lift his hands to wipe them away.
His door is ajar, and the light from the hallway dimly illuminates Rudo’s room.
”Rudo!”
Regto’s voice cuts clean through Rudo’s panic.
Rudo can see his boots, they’re just outside the door. They don’t move, and the light doesn’t shift when it hits them. Rudo’s eyes lift up, and he sees the blood drip to the ground. It pools on the floor, and Regto’s eyes are pained when he meets them.
His dad is dead. There’s no one there. Rudo blinks, and the image disappears.
The other cleaners complain a lot about him leaving his door open all the time. He doesn’t want to explain why it’s so hard to break that particular habit - he desperately wishes it was something he didn’t have to grow out of so soon.
///
”I’m sorry it hurts so much, baby,”
His dad keeps apologising as he wraps Rudo’s hands. First bandages, then warm towels - before finally pulling Rudo’s gloves on for him.
No matter how many times Rudo tries to remember what he’d done before Regto, all he can recall is a fog of pain and dissonance. He remembers nothing, other than agony.
Regto wipes away the tears that trail down Rudo’s face, and he can’t help but lean into the touch.
”Dad-“ his breath hitches, and Rudo is too delirious to realise what he’d said.
Regto holds Rudo closer to himself, threading his fingers through Rudo’s hair. Rudo knows it’d taken Regto too long to notice something was wrong - the door was locked, and Rudo had muffled all his cries against the pillow. He didn’t want to bother his dad over something so seemingly small - the gloves should’ve helped him with the pain, but it seems nothing can make it go away entirely.
”Rudo, from now on, you don’t have to hide away when you’re in pain. I want to help you, I want to be able to be here for you the minute you need me,”
Regto’s voice is steeped in exhaustion, but it’s genuine; sincere in a way that only Regto can achieve. After that, Rudo stops locking his door to hide away. Regto is always there when his hands hurt more than he can handle, always there to take care of Rudo no matter what.
///
Despite the hallway light, it’s pretty late into the night already - Rudo walks to the infirmary in a dazed state, just trying to keep himself afloat alongside the agony that wreaks havoc throughout his body.
Everyone should be asleep right now, so he doesn’t have to worry about waking anyone. There’s no sense of relief that accompanies that thought, instead, the aching loneliness that constricts his heart only becomes stronger.
Time moves through Rudo like molasses, and each step only serves to worsen the pain in his body. Tears drip down his face, and he’s so immeasurably glad that no one has to see him like this.
The infirmary is bright and silent, the walls feel like they’re closing in on Rudo and he can’t help the quiet whimper that escapes his throat.
Blood drips to the ground, and it’s like thunder in his ears.
Rudo is crouching on the floor, his arms lying in front of him. The pain has crescendoed into something that Rudo can’t comprehend, he doesn’t want to take off his gloves for fear the pain grows into a beast he won’t be able to tame. The roll of bandages is lying next to him, and he can’t even remember grabbing them.
He just needs to do this, then he can go to sleep and hope the pain goes away in the morning. So no one thinks he’s weak, so no one can look down on him.
The cry of pain that rips itself from his mouth as he takes his gloves off echoes in the empty room, and the humiliation that follows threatens to burn Rudo alive.
“Rudo?”
“Regto?”
Rudo looks up, but it’s not his dad.
“Sorry to disappoint, kid,” Enjin smiles, but his eyes are clouded with worry.
Yeah, Rudo must look pretty pathetic right now. Kneeling on the ground with his arms splayed out in front of him, and his precious gloves lying next to a roll of bandages that he has yet to even try to apply.
“It’s-“ Rudo’s voice hitches as another bolt of agony shoots through him. “It’s ok. You can go now,”
Enjin’s brain is clearly fried, or he hates listening to people, because he sits down right in front of Rudo. His eyes are fixed on his bandaged arms, and Rudo can’t help but feel a spark of anger rise up in him.
“Stop looking! Fucking- stop it!”
How can he just look at Rudo like that? With no hatred or disgust distorting his face. That’s not how you look at monsters.
“You shouldn’t hide your injuries, you know,” Enjin’s voice is quiet, and with the emptiness of the infirmary Rudo can almost believe that they’re the only two people in the world.
Sweat drips from his brow and a strangled scream brutally tears itself from his mouth, filling the space behind his tongue with the taste of blood.
The bandages that were hiding Rudo’s scars have finally been unwrapped, and he can’t even force himself to see the look on Enjin’s face. He’s too busy trying to reach for a roll of new bandages. His hands shake, the tremors growing worse and worse with each passing second, Rudo can’t seem to move them from their positions in front of him.
“Rudo-“
“Bandages, warm towels, gloves. Bandages, warm towels, gloves. Bandages-“ Rudo runs through his mantra, as if it could get him to move. As if it could make him any less useless.
“Rudo!” Two hands frame his face, and Rudo meets Enjin’s horror-stricken face. His teeth ache with the urge to bite.
“Get away! It’s not an injury - I wasn’t hiding it! My arms are just-“ Rudo’s breathing quickens, and his anger builds. “They’re disgusting! I can deal with them,”
“I can do it for you, I’ll do it for you, ok? Just relax,” Enjin’s voice is soothing, despite the way he looks at Rudo’s hands. Rudo recognises the anger that burns in the man’s eyes, he recognised it in Regto’s as well.
The kind of anger that catches fire when someone you care for is hurt, the kind where the flames lick at your heart - threatening to set it alight. Why would Enjin feel that for Rudo?
“You shouldn’t have to,”
“Kid, you can’t move your arms. I’ll do it, I promise I’ll be gentle, just let me take care of you,”
They fall silent once more, and Rudo is far too focused on breathing through the pain than on anything else at the moment. He’s not focused on the way Enjin wraps his arms like they’re made of porcelain, or the way that his teeth grit together every time a pained whine escapes Rudo’s mouth.
He also doesn’t pay attention to the fact that more people have entered the infirmary.
Enjin gently presses a warm towel onto his arms, and Rudo finally looks up. His eyes meet Zanka’s, and he bares his teeth in a snarl at the sight of his mentor leaning against the wall.
Surprisingly, Zanka doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, his eyes glance down at Rudo’s arms, then back up to Rudo.
“How long have you had those?” Concern colours Zanka’s voice and Rudo rips his gaze away from Zanka.
“As long as I can remember,” he bites out, but the retort is empty of his usual temper.
“Then why don’t you-“ Zanka hesitates, just for a moment. “Why don’t you know how to take care of them?”
“My dad always did it for me, shithead!” Before that, Rudo could never move enough to wrap his arms by himself. He swallows, looks away and tries to lock his anger up, his words are smaller when he speaks next. “I’ll learn how to do it myself, eventually,”
“Your dad,” Enjin’s voice is layered with- fuck! Rudo can’t place it, and the frustration builds on top of the pulsating ache from his hands.
“But that means-“ Riyo’s voice is low, and she moves from her original position to stand behind Enjin. Rudo hadn’t even been able to spot her, but he’d known she was there. She’s always there, just barely out of his peripherals.
“Rudo, you told me the gloves were the only thing you had to remember your dad, but- when did-“
It’s surreal, hearing Enjin sound unsure. Rudo feels like he’s missed a step somewhere, like the world’s shifted a little to the left and he hasn’t been able to right it yet. Enjin, the most confident man he’s ever met, sounds out of his depth.
“When did your dad die, Rudo?”
Right. It’s been a month since Regto died.
Rudo still sees him in the smiles of those around him, still hears him. Still waits for him to gather Rudo in his arms and tell him that everything will be alright.
“When I fell,” the words leave him in a whisper, and he can’t bring himself to look at anyone. “He was killed, and then they threw me from the Sphere,”
Blood stains Rudo’s skin, and he won’t ever be able to wash it off. He’ll kill the fucker that murdered Regto, he’ll get those bastards on the Sphere, but then what? In the end, he’s still guilty. Not of the crimes they’d sentenced him for, but of something worse. Something he’d been branded with since birth. A curse he can never outrun, like an axe over his head. He’s a monster, just like they’d all said. Something irredeemable, something subhuman. He hadn’t killed Regto, but something that runs through his veins had sealed Regto’s fate. Had doomed his dad, the one person who’d loved Rudo unconditionally, to suffer.
“That was a month ago,” Zanka’s voice sounds far away, like Rudo’s been submerged in water.
“It’s so stupid. I’m so stupid! I never learnt to take care of my fucking hands, I can’t move because of the pain! I still-“ Rudo’s pulled his arms back towards him, and he watches the towels fall to the ground. He’s backing away from the three people he’d become close to, during his short time on the Ground, growling and snapping at them like a wild animal.
“I still leave my door unlocked, just because he’d asked me to! So he could help me, when my hands hurt at night!”
Something he’d said had finally shattered the tension that had filled the room, and Enjin is the one who surges forward first. He gathers Rudo into his arms, mindful of the way Rudo has gathered his arms to his chest in a pathetic bid to protect them.
“Kid, listen to me, please,”
Zanka and Riyo have also moved closer, but Rudo doesn't feel trapped, or cornered. He feels-
Cared for.
“I didn’t know, we didn’t know. That’s not an excuse, but-“ Enjin’s hold on Rudo grows tighter, and Rudo realises, belatedly, that there’s a hand running through his hair. “You’ve been through so much, you’ve barely had any time to grieve,”
What can Rudo say to that? He’s spent all this time thinking about getting up to the Sphere, but there’ll be no one waiting for him when he finally gets there.
“A month is a short amount of time, and we didn’t help with anything,” Zanka mutters as he picks up Rudo’s gloves, cradling them carefully. “We just made it worse, I think,”
“We made fun of you for keeping your door unlocked,” It’s Riyo’s voice that cuts through the haze of his mind this time, and Rudo curls further into Enjin.
Zanka is the one who slides Rudo’s gloves back on, and the pain finally lessens to something he can manage.
“What did you do on the Sphere to lay someone to rest?” Zanka’s voice is steady, comforting.
Rudo’s first reaction is to yell and scream, to tell Zanka to fuck off. He wants to say that there’s nothing they can do, there’s nothing they have to do. No one needs to be laid to rest, least of all his dad. Why would they consider burying his dad? He’s still alive, he’s on the other side of the door Rudo keeps unlocked.
He doesn’t say that. Regto would be disappointed in him.
“We’d bury them, and have a short ceremony. Share stories, to keep their memory alive,”
Rudo was the only one on the Sphere who truly knew Regto. He’s the only person who can keep his dad alive in his memories, the only person left who could say things about Regto that wouldn’t be dripping with falsehoods.
“‘Kay, tomorrow we’ll have that ceremony then. For now, you need to sleep, buddy,” Enjin lifted Rudo with no hesitation, immediately heading back to Rudo’s room. Riyo and Zanka trailed behind them, quietly bickering about something Rudo couldn’t care less about.
Instead, Rudo hesitantly laid his head to rest on Enjin’s shoulder, holding his breath and bracing himself to get dropped.
“It’s alright to sleep now, Rudo, don’t worry too much on my account,” Enjin’s voice reverberated through his chest, and Rudo felt his eyes slipping closed.
In the morning, they’ll have a small ceremony for Regto. Rudo will try to get through it without crying, and he’ll fail miserably. The others won’t care, though. The pain will still burn his hands, but he’ll have people to help him.
For now, he’ll finally sleep.