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Ten gazed into the mirror. His injuries from Fourteen had healed up recently, which was great and all. Except... His eyes focused on the scars all over his body. The horrible scars. The revolting scars. The disgusting scars. All they did was remind Ten of the incident. And the pain from it. Just remembering it made him feel sick to his stomach. His life was perfect. Healthy and fit. Smart. Strong. Helpful. He was none of that now. And Fourteen was to blame for it all. Oh how he hated that integer. The vivid memories of Fourteen ripping his skin off from his body and devouring it in front of his own eyes haunted him still.
Ten balled up his fists and punched the mirror with his bare hands as hard as he could. Glass shattered and fell to the floor, with a few shards landing in Ten's fists. He didn't care. He didn't care. He didn't fucking care. As quickly as his outburst came, it went. The orange integer dropped to the ground in his home, sobbing. The crying hurt so much. Ten couldn't remember the last time he ever wailed and cried this much and this hard. The tears rolling down his face practically felt like acid pouring down his skin. Skin. Fourteen. Oh math no. No. No. No. Don't think about him or the incident don't don't don't don't don't.
Ten was broken down and crying so much that he didn't even realize someone opened the door to his house. But once he realized and heard footsteps, he froze. He was back, wasn't he. He was back to eat his blood and guts now. He was frozen in place, on edge and still crying. His bedroom door began to open. Without thinking straight, Ten grabbed the closest thing he could find to a weapon and screamed, throwing it as hard as he could at the person entering. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY!!!" Soon after, he realized the person wasn't Fourteen. It was Five. And he nearly killed them. Ten began to sob again, rushing over to Five, who now had a fresh bleeding wound on their shoulder.
"O-Oh my math, I'm so. I'm so sorry! I thought it wa-was Fourteen and-" Five hushed him. "No, this is on me. I probably should have announced to you I was coming in to check on you, " they sighed. Ten looked away, ashamed of himself. Five grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet in the bathroom and began treating their new injury. Ten, wiping away his tears as best as he could manage, shakily went over to Five. "....Can.. Can I." Five handed the gauze over to Ten. "Knock yourself out." The next few minutes was an awkward silence as Ten treated the wound he gave to Five, who was bothered by the injury but not really mad at him. They understood why Ten reacted the way he did.
Five decided to break the tension. "So... how are you doing?" Ten glanced at the floor. "I'm doing. Doing something I guess." Five looked over at Ten's hands, which still had glass shards in them. "Oh math, what the hell happened to your hands!?", he gasped. Ten sighed. "...I didn't like what I saw in the mirror, okay?" Ten brought his hands over to the scars that covered his body. "I hate these damn scars. Fourteen... they're the reason why I'm so hideous now...", he hissed. It hurt saying Fourteen's name. It really hurt. Five wrapped their arms around him cautiously. "Hey, listen. The scars don't make you look bad. Not at all." Ten practically melted into their arms. He could almost feel all of his troubles fading away. Almost...
He looked over at Five. Five was probably the only person Ten felt like he could truly be safe around. Right now at least. Fourteen definitely wouldn't be coming back anytime soon since they got chained up and stuck near the whiteboard, but Ten still couldn't help but be paranoid that they'd break loose somehow. He held onto Five tighter. His eyes began to droop down and his grip on Five started to relax as he soon fell asleep in their embrace. He was safe. He was safe.
He was safe.