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The hunger claws at his stomach from the inside, feeling as if someone had just stuck a knife into his abdomen and twisted it slowly. It isn’t agonizing anymore, he’s used to pain, much appreciation to the rot for that! The lack of food makes it growl in discontentment, though the inventor ignores it. He always does, despite his rapidly declining state of good health. If this was what he had to do to obtain that power he oh, so dearly desired deserved… then so be it.
When Subspace practically collapses onto his lab desk that night due to the lack of energy in his system, he won’t decide to fix it. He’s Blackrock’s greatest scientist. He can get through this with no issue.
It becomes an issue when Subspace finds himself leaning on the wall for support after a match, the loud defeat ringing in his ears. It didn’t help that Medkit, that traitor was on his team! Poisonous fumes emit from his gas mask at the mere thought of the other. That’s why he was like this. It was all his fault! Not Subspace’s! …Speaking of that nuisance.
“Subspace.” Her voice rang out, low and uninterested as always. It had a hint of concern, very faint, only noticeable because the inventor knew that voice. He’d heard it firsthand many, many times. Imagined it even more. Subspace looks up from the floor to see the doctor, hissing as pink fumes emit from his gas mask. He isn’t pleased to see the other. “Medkit.”
The doctor takes a step forward, and Subspace stumbles back. A lump of regret and pure fear is forming in his throat, making it hard to swallow. She was the inventor of the Biografts, for the Swords’ sake! She was not going to deal with him today. She growls, “What are you doing? Coming here to- to finish me off?!”
Medkit pauses, eyeing the wall he’s backed the inventor into. It reminds him of a certain incident. The thought makes him hear the blood pumping through his heart for a split second, the screams of his ex-coworker from the past complimenting the sound. She knows it’s all in her head, and she shakes it to get the sounds out. As if it'll help much. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the other. Subspace glares, animalistic growl bubbling in his throat again.
The inventor laughs, “I have nothing ahead of me, Medkit, so go ahead.” He then panics for a moment, adding on in his usual tone of voice to keep up his facade, “I’d like to see you try, after all!!”
She can’t show weakness. She knows this! Hell, she’s lived in Blackrock her whole life. It’s stuck in her head as firm as her own brain is.
Hearing this, the doctor pauses, tail twitching. Go ahead? “I came here to heal you, Subspace. It’s required. I’d expect someone of such high intelligence, as you say, to remember that.” Medkit snarls, fangs showing. The malice is laced neatly into her tone, and as she steps forward to be in front of Subspace she pulls out her revolver, face darkening. She makes sure it is loaded before pushing his shoulders down to make him kneel forcefully, rolling her eyes.
He’s so incompetent, that it almost made her laugh! Key word: almost. Subspace winces, looking up at the other. Medkit was too much of a coward to actually do anything, Subspace knew that, but it was fun to play with him. She giggles to herself, “What, are you going to put a bullet through my skull? I know you’re lying. You’re off the clock, Meddy, for height's sake!”, and her voice is raspy due to what the healer assumes to be the rot. His doing. It makes him crack a faint smile finally, knowing he did this.
However, he pushes that aside for now. He kneels on one knee, cocking his revolver. They don’t miss the way Subspace seems to tense, making Medkit grab his shoulder firmly to keep him in place. “Don’t. Move.”
She swiftly pulls the trigger, and Subspace even flinches. It’s amusing to her. Those were healing bullets, not bullets that would harm him. If she wanted to kill him, which she did, she wouldn’t have done it so sloppily. The bullets unfortunately don't seem to do much, making her scoff. Looks like she'll have to resort to other methods.
Medkit then produces a crystal in his hand, the object floating there idly. Subspace just now notices how bright the two’s own crystals have gotten, and how the doctor seems to hesitate for a moment, pondering about something. If only she could get into his head. His gloved hand sent what felt like electric shocks through the other's body as it moved to take the crystal, holding it against Subspace’s rotting face.
The scientist moves his mouth to say something, but with the glare he receives from the other, she keeps it shut. She feels the pain gradually lessen, a small repressed part of herself grateful that the healer would even consider doing this. She would never say that, though. As time passes, the healer seems to get increasingly dizzy. Tired. The crystal between his horns is simply flickering at this point, and his hand continues to hold the spawned crystal over the rot where his eye used to be. It’s completely numb now, although his painkillers have started to weaken greatly. It's surprising, how much a singular crystal can cause.
She was getting tired of this! She had Biografts to work on, higher-ups to please, and ‘assignments’ to give Hyperlaser! Ooh, and she still had to ask him why he was talking with Katana at that bar recently! That’d be fun. The scientist then growls, “Meddy, I think I’m fi-”
He’s cut off by the doctor's body quite literally collapsing onto his, her breathing uneven. The scientist inhales sharply, almost gasping, rotting shoulder and exposed bone crashing against the wall. If not for the faint pang of concern he felt for the other, he would've yelled at the healer. Though, today felt different. Or maybe he was different. “...Meddy?” Subspace’s eyes widen, and she accidentally smacks her crystal into his while he attempts to move him off of her. They seemed to gravitate towards each other, those crystals. He should've known.
The both of them immediately yell out an expletive, Medkit’s slight Lost Templan accent contradicting the other's Blackrockian accent. The doctor also leans back in the process, gripping their head. That… didn’t hurt? It was only weirdly pleasant if anything... wait. What was she thinking? Medkit lets out a breath, and it comes out shaky.
Now that Subspace thinks about it, they've both been speaking in Blackrock’s language this whole time, why was he suddenly switching to...
That cult. He glares immediately, face darkening. They’ve made him southern! Oh, she’ll… Subspace will save that thought for later. Much, much later. For now, he grabs Medkit’s deer ear, intending to pull him up harshly. The doe stills immediately, attention focused on Subspace. This makes him stop fully, both of their singular eyes only staring. Though he tries, Medkit fails to get up, his body exhausted from pouring his energy into healing. It always took so much out of him, but especially now. He just had a feeling, a strong feeling that something would’ve happened if he hadn’t intervened. Though he wanted Subspace dead, body rotting in the dirt, she helped. It was just required, after all. That's why she did it. That's what she'll tell herself.
The scientist stands, groaning, exaggerating it just to annoy Medkit. He knew it would. She closes her eyes, getting ready to make fun of him a bit. Just for her entertainment! “Get up, why don’t you?! It’s not my fault that you-”
They’re cut off by Medkit’s boot slamming into his own, and it makes Subspace fall right back onto the ground. A loud yelp comes from the scientist's mouth, and he clutches his shoulder. What an asshole! Though, this makes the healer laugh, actually laugh for once. Like he used to. The scientist pushes that thought out of his head, crawling over to her to yell at her. She places her rotting arm around the others neck, and they only smile. What a freak!
“I could kill you right here! Snap your neck, and you’d be gone!”, They smile, the same one that is produced when they’re experimenting on… totally willing civilians! Medkit, ignoring Subspace’s rambles, grabs her long hair. He yanks the hairbow out of his hair, making her gaze snap down to him. Though, this doesn’t stop Subspace from crying out. “Wha- HEY!!” The inventor reaches for the hair tie before the healer takes it in his teeth, blocking the others hands.
Subspace stills as the other pulls their hair in the back together, tying it up in a ponytail. What was Meddy on today?! He never would've done this any other day. Maybe the circumstances were different? They go to speak, opening their mouth before a harsh glare meets his eyes. “What?! Why are you looking at me like that, Meddy?”
Medkit can't keep up the facade and laughs, doubling over. Subspace just can’t help but start to defend themselves! “You’re making fun of Blackrock’s smartest, I’ll have you know!!”, she whines, and Medkit lightly punches the other in the shoulder. His good shoulder. It makes them recoil, but not because he's hurt. Subspace is surprised. That cult must’ve screwed up how his brain functions, definitely. She leans into the scientist’s chest, still laughing faintly. A memory of how they formerly did things like this when things got stressful at Blackrock. It makes the strong feeling of sheer regret fill her heart. An organ she thought had been blown to smithereens years ago. Eventually, it dies down into uncontrollable sobs, and she moves forward to snake her arms around the other. Not caring for his reaction at all, even if it meant death. At least she'd die in the arms of someone she once knew.
The doctor was exhausted constantly from altering gears of demons, plus having his clothes splattered in blood from Scythe and the Broker's escapades. Those two never knew when to quit, but Medkit had a feeling that Scythe just enjoyed causing that warden rage. It was weird. ...That blood was never, ever his. Height's forbid that he missed a deadline by only a few minutes, as after she was 'scolded' she'd get to her apartment smelling strongly of blood that again, was never hers. The simple thought of that happening to him again, to choke and near drown in blood that wasn't her own, unsettled him greatly.
No person of any belief, no matter how strong, could go through that and not feel a sense of hesitance when they go to pray to their god again the next day. No person could possibly not feel a sense of hesitance in continuing to believe in their god, right?
...He hoped the Father could forgive him for his unfaithful thoughts. Give him mercy for once in his pitiful, pitiful life.
Medkit grips the scientist’s sweater, surprising Subspace. It was like he zoned out for a moment. Not to mention that it'd happened so fast. Though, it wasn't an unwelcome change, per se. She only hesitates before moving to rest her head on Medkit’s shoulder, like they used to. It feels normal, like nothing's wrong. “I hate you, Sub,”, Medkit muffled his sobs in Subspaces sweater, “But I loved you, too.”