Archive of Our Own ^beta

It had to have been hours by now- days, weeks, YEARS?? Protag didn't know, but it felt like one of those things. Much too long for his own liking, that's for sure. He'd been killed over, and over, and…over. He'd even killed someone else. His Coworker, that was. His stupid smile and his absolutely irksome voice- he had it coming…even if the guilt still weighed him down.

His Coworker probably couldn't even remember it. Or, maybe he was just too clueless to understand. Nevertheless, it didn't matter anymore. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. I mean, what was one supposed to do after killing someone? How do you get rid of the guilt? How does it not haunt you forever?

Whatever. Doesn't matter. He doesn't have time for this.

He needs this job. And to get it, he needs to be on time to this interview.

Still...the elevator taunts him, tortures him, even. No matter what he did, he would keep dying. His hand hovered in the air, right in front of the button labeled, ‘8’. Maybe he should just-

“-Newbie. You good?” His Coworker looked at him with an eyebrow raised, an almost concerned look on his face. The intern didn't reply, continuing to stare at the panel of buttons in silence. He couldn't keep doing this.

“...helloo??” The taller blond leaned in, about to tap on the shorter man's head; before deciding against it, for whatever reason. He looked to Protag from the side, eyeing him rather closely.

“Anyone home up there??”

No response. To put it simply, the intern was tired. Tired of- everything, really. There was so much he was particularly tired of, he could barely pinpoint them himself. Though, the soreness in his hand from pressing the elevator buttons and the lingering migraine from his many deaths were definitely…noticeable. He didn't even know how long they'd been in here.

.

Wait.

.

“Your watch.” Protags eyes flitted to his peripheral, meeting his Coworkers gaze.

“Whuzzat?”

The shorter man scoffed, grabbing the Blonds wrist impatiently. He viewed the small (definitely expensive) mechanism attentively. It was…just about the same as the time when he first arrived in this god-forsaken elevator; give or take a few minutes. Of course. What was he thinking? This was a time loop. How stupid of him to even begin to think this watch could at least give him a miniscule idea on how long he'd been here.

His Coworker pulled away with a distasteful look on his face. “Watch it, newbie- This thing is brand new! Exclusive, too. Y’know, it was actually the only one left once I got to the store. It was SUCH a struggle to get through all that traffic on Sunday, especially with so many people honking at me! I…” -and just like that, Protag had tuned him out again.

He had to keep going. But maybe…he could wait it out? No, no- he'd miss the interview and then he'd have to die and start all over again. Between the dying, the strange copies of him and his coworker, his childhood room, the killing, the migraines, and just about everything else- what could he really do except keep trying?- Over, and over, and over, and-

His mind barely registered how much his breath had picked up before he was suddenly on his knees, a soft thud sounding as his legs touched the floor. He crumpled- staring down at the scuffed ground with intensity, tears starting to form in his eyes. The world around him was spinning- it was too loud- or too quiet? He couldn't tell. He couldn't think. He would never get out of here, would he?

.

The blond's voice quieted as he looked down at him with an expression that was difficult to describe. Worried, but his face was scrunched up like he was weirded out a little at the sudden reaction.

Not like the intern could see anyway.

He crouched down a bit and reached out, (albeit hesitantly), placing a warm hand on Protags back, beginning to rub along it. It was just about his greatest attempt at being ‘soothing’.

“...uh- try to…slow your breathing.”

That's what people said to do, right?

“...In for..4 seconds- Out for the same…?"

He almost made it sound like a question. Maybe he should've listened better when he overheard these instructions in passerby instead of talking so damn much…

They sat like that for a few minutes or so as the intern regained his bearings. It took a while for his breathing and his mind to slow down, but eventually he was able to return to his normal state. The elevator was quiet for once, the only sound the quiet buzz of the fluorescent lights. Of course, the two had already tuned them out for the most part by now. It was peaceful. So peaceful, in fact, that Protag found himself wondering when it would be rui-

“You're lucky I overheard some folks talking about these techniques ‘n all that. Don't worry though Newbie, you don't hafta thank me.”

After pausing for a second (as if actually expecting some sort of thank you anyways), he continued his ramblings. Something about how dirty the floor was, or how long the two had been in the elevator for…

Protag half-listened for a while, even if he didn't really care for much of what he was talking about. He let out a soft exhale, the side of his head coming into contact with the blond's shoulder. Exhaustion was quickly starting to overpower him.

Coworker almost spoke up about it, tempted to shove him off- but he decided to give the newbie the benefit of the doubt here. He continued to ramble, even though he knew the other wasn't listening. It wasn't much of a difference from how things usually were since Protag would only really nod or hum sometimes in response- But still, Coworker found himself almost missing the effortless replies.

After a while, he yawned, his voice quieting down a bit. His own eyelids were drooping now, his sleepiness finally catching up to him. Eventually both men dozed off, leaning against each other and the wall of the elevator.

Coworker fell asleep thinking of how dirty his clothes were probably getting.

Protag fell asleep relaxed, even knowing in the back of his mind that when he wakes up he'll have to die, and start all over again.