Archive of Our Own

A quick show and tell was the best option here, right? Because no matter how hard Siffrin tried to hide everything, someone would notice something eventually and probably ask about it, especially if things continued to develop as they had been. And this would happen multiple times as each of them noticed and asked at different times. Trying to hide it would be stressful and he’d promised he’d talk more about stuff. It would be hard to argue that this didn’t count. So getting it all out in the open with everyone right now before they started for Bambouche tomorrow morning was the least stressful option. Not that that made it easy, it very much didn’t, but the end outcome was preferable. Also, it was too late to back out now; he’d already gathered everyone in the Clock Tower’s central room. Saying, ‘actually, never mind’ would prompt its own questions and worries. So he was kind of stuck… unless he could undo telling everyone he had something important to share anyway.

Their hand drifted to grip the dagger’s hilt, the motion thankfully hidden by their cloak. That wouldn’t work though… probably. They wouldn’t want it to. The loops were over. They were finally free. That’s what they’d wanted for so, so long. So no, backing out now wasn’t an option and it would be a bad thing if it was.

Taking a deep breath, in and out, he let go of the dagger and looked up at everyone. They were all seated on the couch, watching him with way more patience than he deserved. Even Bonnie who was sitting on the armrest and looking bored as they kicked their legs wasn’t verbally complaining. The conversation would be more difficult with them here but they were just as likely to notice and have questions about it as anyone else and thus they belonged here too.

“Okay,” they finally forced themself to say with a smile as brought their hands together in a small clap. The smile was fake though and this wasn’t a smiling matter. They let it fall. “Okay, so… we’ve established that I was in a time loop for a while. I already told you about how talking to the Head Housemaiden would trigger it.” Their gaze slid off everyone and settled on the wall behind the couch instead. “That’s not the way most of the loops ended though. Most of them ended more uh… violently.”

“The King, right?” Bonnie asked, their hand raised. They were paying full attention now. Probably they were pleased they’d been invited to an adult conversation. “’Cause you redid the House a bunch and so he got you sometimes, right?”

“Yeah, the King killed me a few times.” … And Bonnie once and it was Siffrin’s fault. He’d promised to protect them and he’d failed.

Odile raised her hand next. “Does this include at the end? When you went in to fight him alone?”

“Yeah. He killed me like uh… a dozen or so times there. But I was looping back immediately so I was mostly fine.”

“’Mostly fine’?” Mira interrupted. “You still died a… ‘a dozen or so times’. That’s a lot. And it means if it wasn’t for your time loop powers or whatever you’d be… we’d have arrived too late.”

Siffrin had to force themself not grimace at the look of hurt on her face. All they seemed to be doing lately was making her and everyone else upset. If only they could go one more time and undo all the hurt and do it perfectly. … They’d done it perfectly so many times though. This was the way that had finally gotten them out. Did being so willing to accept it and grateful for it make them selfish? Probably, right? They should’ve been able to do it better so that everyone was happy and the loops still ended.

Isa put a hand on her arm. “Well, if it wasn’t for their time loop powers, they would’ve never gone against the King alone in the first place. Right Sif? You’d never had gone in alone if you hadn’t been going crazy in a time loop.”

Without the loop, Siffrin would’ve merely died under the rock and everyone else would’ve gone on alone and either got stuck or killed by the King, minus Bonnie who would’ve escaped only to ultimately be frozen in time. So in all, the time loop had done far more good than bad. Surely that made it all worth it. All of the really bad parts had been his own fault.

“Right. So it’s fine… sort of. We’re all alive and the country not frozen so… yeah, it’s fine.” He shrugged. They were getting off track. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. The thing I need tell everyone is that um… while I’ve been recovering from the whole being Craft exhausted thing, I’ve uh… I have scars now, from the loops, the ways I died and… stuff. They started showing up like the day after I got out.” He’d noticed them forming and had immediately set to hiding them even while also immediately clocking that he wouldn’t be able to do so forever. “I… don’t know if they’re even done setting in yet but some of them are in places that are hard to keep hidden all the time. So what’s going to happen is, I’m going to show everyone and we’re going to get all our questions out of the way all at once and then never talk about it again, okay?”

Odile got a look on her face that said she was about to voice a protest or perhaps an argument, undoubtedly something contrarian. Siffrin quickly cut back in before she could even begin. “Starting with this!” He pulled off his gloves and held his hands up and out where everyone could see. They all leaned in for a closer look.

The tips of his index and middle finger on both hands were stained dark, fading back to normal somewhere past the first knuckle. His right was noticeably worse than the left, going down almost the entirety of his index finger and on the tip of his ring finger too. Presumably he’d used that hand more often.

“Tears,” they explained before anyone could ask. “There were a lot of them floating around the House. I could touch them to freeze myself in time and that would make me loop.”

“Does it hurt?” Bonnie asked.

“No. It doesn’t feel like anything, actually, just completely numb.” Siffrin pulled their hands back and ran their thumb up and down the index finger on their other hand. Passing from the feeling part to unfeeling part was a weird sensation. At the very tip there wasn’t even a hint of pressure. The skin was noticeable colder everywhere the time freeze had left a scar too. “I can’t bend those part of my fingers so it’s weird but… not painful. Freezing myself didn’t hurt either.”

“And um… when you were frozen, what was that like?”

“Kinda like sleeping, I guess. I had dreams sometimes.”

“Good ones?” Their gaze was hopeful. They were thinking about their sister and whoever had told them she’d been having nice dreams while frozen.

As nice as it would be to claim that being frozen in time was entirely pleasant – and at times, the break it offered during combat, had been very pleasant indeed – Siffrin shouldn’t lie. And so they lifted a hand to make a so-so gesture. “Sometimes at first but then… not so much. The whole looping thing probably made it different for me so you should ask someone else.”

With a disappointed sigh, Bonnie nodded and leaned back.

“Can I see your hands for a second?” Mira asked as she stood up and gestured for them.

Siffrin obediently lifted his hands again, holding them towards her. She lifted her own hands to Craft a spell. Lovely Moving Cure. Siffrin would recognize it anywhere. A familiar rush of warmth washed through him, starting from his hands but as it faded, they looked and felt no different. “It was worth a try.”

With a disappointed sigh of her own, Mira sat back down. “I might try again later. Give me some time to think about it.”

Siffrin retrieved his gloves from his pockets and pulled them back on. It was harder now but they’d been dealing with it for a few days already and thus at least didn’t embarrass themself with it. “All right,” they said as they looked back up at everyone. Maybe they could leave it here? Say this was it?

“I assume the next one’s worse,” Odile said as if she knew he was thinking about not showing it.

“You don’t have to show us,” Isa added. “You can just tell us if that makes it more comfortable and then if we ever see it, we can politely pretend we didn’t.”

“No. I have to show you.” Because they couldn’t say it. The mere thought of saying it had their hand itching to reach for their dagger again to take them away from this conversation. Doing that would be worse than merely showing them the scar though, much, much worse because it would be showing them the act instead.

And so, as their now shaky hands reached for their cloak’s clasps, they looked down at the floor. Their numb finger tips made the clasps a bit hard to undo and thus it was several agonizing seconds before they finally got them and could pull the cloak off. Then, closing their eye tight so they wouldn’t have to see anyone’s face, they lifted their head towards the ceiling, bearing their throat and the scars running across it.

Like with their hands, the right side was worse. They held the dagger in the left most of the time after all so starting with the right jugular made sense. Slicing through both jugulars and wind pipe was the fastest way they could inflict death on themself even if it did hurt. Not knowing there’d be a scar, they hadn’t even considered trying it in the same spot and/or angle, resulting in a crisscross mess of scars over their entire throat.

Looking at it in the mirror that morning was what had made them realize there was no way they could keep hiding it, especially once on the road. The collar of the cloak hid it well but wearing it at every single moment someone might see them was a tall ask and well, they didn’t really want to. The cloak was great and special to them but it’d be nice to change up their look occasionally. A scarf was an option but would undoubtedly be noticed as odd and like with the cloak wearing it at all times they might be seen by one of their traveling companions wasn’t viable. Someone would catch them with their throat exposed eventually and then would ask about the scar because who wouldn’t? Showing everyone all at once was the best option as it at least put them in charge of the interaction instead of being surprised into it.

“Did the King do that?” Bonnie asked because everyone else probably at least had some idea on the scars’ origins. The cuts were too clean and tidy for ‘dagger’ to not come to mind, right? Siffrin didn’t dare look down or even open their eye lest he see anyone’s face.

“No.”

“A Sadness then?”

“Also, no.”

“Then… then who or… what?” Bonnie was smart, they were figuring it out.

Siffrin took a deep breath, in and out, and made himself look down at them. Only them though. He didn’t look at anyone else, he’d crumble if he did. “Don’t be like me, okay Bonbon? I’m not a good role model.”

They looked at him in silence for a few seconds before it finally clicked. “You did that to yourself.” A statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To loop.”

“And… and that means you died, right? You did… that and you died… every time? You killed yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Did… did it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“But… if you could use the Tears and that didn’t hurt then why would you… I don’t understand.”

Siffrin could explain that it was faster but that wasn’t a good argument and well, that wasn’t the only reason they’d done it. “I hope you never do understand.” Hopefully none of them ever understood. Siffrin would’ve liked to not understand too. It was the fastest way and… they’d wanted it to hurt. They hadn’t been aware of it at the time but looking back, even with it not far in hindsight yet, that was obvious. There’d been times when they’d been standing right next to a Tear and had chosen the dagger instead. The slower and more painful option in that scenario.

“Okay,” Odile said, her voice forcibly flat, “is there anything else they need to know about or is it time to send them out for an adult conversation?”

Of course there would be an adult conversation about this, Siffrin should’ve expected no different. Their hand itched for the dagger but everyone would see that now so instead they gripped their cloak tight in their hands and looked at the floor. “I… I think that’s it. It’s just… hiding it would be hard so…” They trailed off. It would’ve been nice to have not had to say anything, especially to Bonnie.

“All right, Boniface, time for you to…”

“Wait, wait, before I go, can I ask how many loops? Did you count?”

At least it was a topic change, right? “Yeah, I counted. It was um… I might have counted wrong because I kinda forgot like… entire loops sometimes. And what even really counts as a new loop, right? I could loop forward so… was that a new loop or just skipping forward in the same one? Some of the loops weren’t long or… I didn’t spend much time in them before I was looping again. Some stuff came forward with me but not backwards so… ”

“The number Sif.” Isa’s tone was sharper than it usually was. Not by a lot but enough to be noticeable. “What number did you end on?” His tone was softer now and came from directly next to Siffrin; he’d stood up and stepped closer. Siffrin didn’t look up at him. “It doesn’t matter if it’s entirely accurate. Just tell us the number, okay?”

“Five hundred thirty-seven.”

Audible gasps as everyone flinched. Should Siffrin have lied and said a lower number? Would that have accomplished anything?

Mira broke the silence “I’d guessed that the number would be big but… wow, just wow. That’s a lot and… you’re saying for most of those you died?”

“Probably, yeah.” All the loops in which they’d made it to the end, hit the emotional threshold for a loop, or froze themself combined to a good chunk of their loops but there was almost no way it was the majority of them. They’d killed themself often.

“You died literally hundreds of times then?”

They’d already admitted it, she was just asking for clarification, so… “Yes.”

“Oh. And… a lot of those were suicide?”

“Yes.”

“I… see.”

Despite himself, he looked up at her. She’d stood again too and was giving him a look, they all way. It was full of pity and sorrow and made his insides squirm. This was why talking about stuff sucked so bad, it made everyone upset. It was so much easier to not think about things. … Except that didn’t make anything better, did it? This experience proved it just made things worse. If he’d talked to them about it sooner, that number wouldn’t have been so high and he wouldn’t have blown up and hurt them the way he had. So here was was talking about it and squirming but not reaching for his dagger to undo it – not that that would even work – because this was apparently going to make it better somehow eventually. It would be nice of that hurried up though.

Bonnie broke the silence next. “I’d’ve exploded after that many too, probably before. But um… thanks for telling me that and… the other thing too. I still don’t understand but… I don’t know.” Often when they got upset they defaulted to anger but right now they just looked sad and scared. It was a lot, wasn’t it? To know someone you cared about committed suicide and it being undone by the time loop only gave him the opportunity to do it multiple times. They jumped off the couch’s arm rest, their too big boots thudding as they hit the floor. “I’m gonna go make dinner now.” And with that, they were off. The sound of the door opening and closing announced their exit.

Siffrin would have to go and talk to them again later, make sure they were okay. “Should I not have told them?”

“Well,” Isa said, “they’d have seen that scar on your neck eventually, it’s uh… not exactly subtle. And then they would’ve had questions that you would’ve had to answer. You could’ve lied of course but they’re smart, they’d probably at least suspect that you weren’t being truthful and that would’ve done far more harm than good. So it’s probably easier for both of you this way.”

“It’s far better than letting them figure it out by themself.” Odile stood up now too, resulting in them standing in a circle, all facing Siffrin. “Someone should probably talk to them more about it later but for now Siffrin, we’ve established you’ve been through a lot, more than I’d originally thought. Obviously you… killed yourself quite a few times to loop but how likely are you to do it again?”

It should’ve been easy to say that he wouldn’t dream of it. If Bonnie were still here, he’d have been obligated to deny the possibility, thus their being sent out. But it should still be a ‘not likely’, right? Even if it wasn’t quite an easy automatic answer. So why was he hesitating?

“Have you thought about it?” Mira asked in a whisper.

Siffrin shouldn’t lie. He’d promised he would do less of that. That he’d talk about stuff. And it would better to get all the questions surrounding the scars out of the way all at once and be done with it. That was the whole point of this entire conversation. So he should be honest and admit the truth. … Nothing came out of his mouth though. It was either lie or stay silent, apparently.

“I’m going to take that as a ‘yes’,” Odile said. “Do you need us to take your dagger from you for a little while?” She extended her hand towards them, asking for it.

With a flinch, he stepped back, away from her hand. “No. I’m not… I thought about it a few times during this conversation as like a ‘it sure would be nice to loop back to before I committed to this conversation so I don’t have to have it,’ kind of thing but that’s it. I wouldn’t do that.” He’d cause them enough trouble and upset already without adding that to it. “I’m not okay yet but I’m also not… suicidal either.” Not actively anyway but did that part really need to be said out loud? “And it was during the loops so did it even really count as suicide? I knew I wasn’t going to die for real.” No need to mention the handful of times they’d done it in hopes of it being real. It was a small handful anyway… probably. That had been when they’d been forgetting a lot of loops.

“All right.” Isa lifted a hand and looked for a moment like he would step towards them but didn’t, letting it fall instead. “But promise you’ll talk to us if you ever do start thinking about it, okay?”

“I’m out of the loops now though so…”

“Promise,” Mira interrupted. “Promise you won’t do it. Promise you’ll talk to us if you ever find yourself thinking about it, especially if it ever feels… tempting, you know? Please promise.”

“Okay, okay. I promise I won’t kill myself. I promise if I start thinking about it a lot or feel like I want to, I’ll talk to you guys about it.” All well and good and Siffrin meant it now but they’d broken important promises before. So how much weight did this promise even really hold?

“Thank you.” Odile sounded relieved. “Now, are there any other ways you died that we should know about? And are there any other loop related things that are going to haunt you if you keep them hidden?”

Hadn’t Siffrin already shared a lot? Why’d she have to ask so many questions? … Because they hadn’t actually shared a lot, had they? There was a lot more that would indeed haunt them. Would sharing really help though? It was supposed to. That’s what everyone said, even insisting that Siffrin should share and talk about stuff.

She frowned at whatever she saw on their face. “You don’t have to answer right now and in fact I probably shouldn’t have asked. You’ve shared quite a bit already. We can return to this topic later.”

Siffrin hadn’t meant to look at her with any kind of expression and they didn’t even know what expression they’d given her. Their ability to keep the mask on was slipping… more like had slipped. When was the last loop they’d spent a significant length of time in that someone, her especially, hadn’t picked up on something being wrong with them? It had been a long while.

“Taking a break is probably a good idea,” Isa agreed. “I know this has probably been a lot for you already and we’re proud of you for being open with us.” He was being patronizing again. Except, no, he wasn’t. He was genuinely proud of Siffrin for talking about their issues the way normal people apparently did because they usually didn’t. They were pathetic like that. Being honest about struggling was something to be proud of them for. But if talking about it would help and was what they were apparently supposed to do, they should keep going, right? They’d started this conversation with the idea of getting all the questions out of the way after all. Continuing later would give them too much time to change their mind about sharing the rest.

They resisted the urge to take another step backwards and away – if they went too far, they’d hit the wall and corner themself – and instead took a deep breath, in and out. “If I don’t say it now, I’ll want to put it off forever.” They rolled their neck, trying to work out some the achy stiffness in it. A vain effort. … It had been stiff and achy a lot lately, indicating perhaps that the scars extended to their insides too which was just fantastic. “So let’s just… get it all out of the way, huh?”

“Are you sure?” Mira asked. “It’s good you want to talk but it doesn’t have to be all at once.”

Siffrin didn’t bother to answer as he strode over to the coffee table. The three of them followed but maintained the distance he’d placed between them. First he folded up the cloak and placed it on the end of the table. Next he took of the gloves again, using his teeth because it was just easier, revealing his messed up hands once more. The full extent of how his numb finger tips was going to affect him going forward was yet to be discovered but it certainly wasn’t going to be nothing. He dropped the gloves on top of the cloak before finally grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. After dropping that atop the pile too, he turned to face three of them again, his arms held slightly up and out so they could all see.

Stabbing themself through the heart was technically faster than through the throat but took quite a bit more physical effort to force the knife through their rib cage. As a result they hadn’t done it particularly often but the scars left behind now still probably gave it away. They’d stabbed themself in the lungs a few times too and they’d gutted themself exactly once and regretted it. There were still scars though, faint – the ways they used the most often seemed to be leaving stronger scars – but still there enough to see. Which all overlapped with the scars the King had left them with. They were large, turning their torso into a tapestry of scar tissue.

He fixed his gaze on the wall behind everyone and forced on a smile that they all probably knew was false but it was the only way he could get himself to speak. “Suicide was my primary method of looping. I would intentionally slip on a banana peel in Dormont to break my neck or bash my head open, depending on how I fell. Or I would drown myself in the river for some variety. I jumped off the top of the House a few times and went splat at the bottom. When I first started using my dagger, I was just slitting my throat to save time but sometimes, to change things up, I would stab myself somewhere else so I would die a little bit slower so that I could enjoy being held while I died. I already told you I’m allergic to pineapple. I would eat it on purpose sometimes because I was on the second floor anyway, might as well finish it and then loop. Or occasionally just because it tasted good and I wanted to eat something different and didn’t care it if killed me. The rock in the Death Corridor was my first death. Yeah, I know, pathetic, right? I forgot about it a few times so it killed me more than once. I got sloppy occasionally early on and died to Sadnesses a couple times too. The times the King killed me hurt the most but I always made sure I died first so no one else had to. He was very accommodating when I asked him to kill me first. I saw a weird shade with him once when we persisted in trying to say our country’s name until it killed me. That one hurt a lot too. If the scar for that one comes in later, I might go mute, won’t that be fun?”

“Sif,” Isa tried to cut in but they weren’t done yet. They had to keep going until sharing helped and made them feel better because it was supposed to, right? The script was dead and gone, the perfect run to save the country and make everyone happy ruined forever but sharing would help them feel better. They were tired of feeling miserable all the time and if this was how to make that finally, finally stop then they were doing it.

“We got stuck sometimes too because I missed a key or went the wrong way with a single use crest. Oops, turns out I’m super unreliable, you guys shouldn’t have trusted me so much. Speaking of that my biggest goal was to never let anyone else die because it hurts and I could prevent it. I failed. I stayed with Loop for a loop and you guys all went in without me. You reached the King without me too, more proof that I’m just dead weight, huh? He killed you. I tried to make peace with him once and you guys all went along with me for some reason. He killed Bonnie to punish me. I promised to protect them but I failed. I failed. I failed. I failed. I knew how to do it all perfectly. I could make everything work out and everyone would be happy at the end but I kept failing anyway. I was never good enough. I killed myself so much because I wanted it to hurt. A few times I did it, hoping it would stick. It never did. I always woke up. I forgot everyone’s name once, Loop had to remind me. I’m that awful.

“And, and instead of asking for help or even telling any of you what was going on, I decided I was going to kill the King. It was always Mira who landed the final blow. So I decided, if it was me, somehow that would be the thing that finally ended the loops even though that doesn’t make any blinding sense. We were all stronger as a family too so I decided I was going to rush us getting there because I just wanted it to be over so, so bad. But I messed that up too and instead just said awful things to everyone and ran off by myself, forcing everyone to come save me because as soon as the King figured out what I was doing he slowed, slowed, slowed me until I couldn’t do anything. I… I guess it was dream. I was wandering around in a dark void for what felt like hours and hours and then something with my face showed up. It spoke in all your voices. I was starting to believe what it was saying too even though you guys would never say that kind of stuff. You’re too nice to hate me even when I deserve it.”

At the start of their tirade they’d had a cheery tone that was probably forced enough to be obvious but they’d still managed it. Now though, their voice shook and wavered as they struggled to breathe. They kept their gaze set firmly on the ceiling, not daring to look down at their family and what horrid disgusted expressions they must be making. “And that’s when you guys showed up and you know the rest. So that’s… that’s it. The full story… basically. A quick version of it.”

“Okay, that’s… a lot,” Mira said. “We might need to more thoroughly unpack some of that later. But um, for now does… getting it all out make you feel better?”

Did he feel better? He was supposed to, right? That’s what everyone said. ‘Talk to people about your problems, you’ll feel better’. He’d doubted it for so long but keeping it all in had made everything worse so obviously everyone else had to be right. And following the reveal of the loops, everyone had insisted he needed to talk about his problems more. But… but… “No.” He felt like he might be about to throw up and his neck hurt from tilting it up towards the ceiling. Which had the bonus side effect of bearing that particular suicide scar to everyone. Not that it mattered much when they were all on display. He was half naked! The air was sharp and awful against his bare skin like ice cold needles all over.

With a whimper, they flinched and turned away. “Why don’t I feel better?” Their voice sounded pathetic even to themself. “I’m supposed to, right? That’s what everyone says.” They grabbed their shirt and struggled with it a bit before managing to pull it on. Better, less exposed but still not good. Why not? Everyone said they would feel better if they talked about stuff.

“Well,” Isa said, “you don’t just magically start feeling better after spilling your guts once. It’s usually more of a slow process kind of thing.”

“That’s stupid.” They grabbed the gloves next. Pulling them on was far harder than it should’ve been because they were shaking and the stupid blinding Tear scars were annoying. “I feel lied to.” And it wasn’t fair. Everyone said talking would make them feel better. Or maybe they were just that broken. Nothing would help.

“It sounds like a lie to me too sometimes too,” Odile said, “but it’s not. You just need some time and probably all of that at once was a bit too much. I’m sorry I pressed for more. I shouldn’t have.”

“A break before sharing the rest probably would’ve been better,” Mira said. “But I guess we all now know the basics of what happened so we at least don’t have to wonder as much.”

Gloves finally on once more and blessedly shielding their hands from the wretched air, the cloak was next. They pulled it back on over their head. With it, they were even less exposed, less vulnerable. … They couldn’t get the clasps to close the collar properly though. Their hands were too shaky, their numb finger tips too awkward. After revealing all that, the thing that was going to make them break down and start crying was their blinding cloak. They just wanted it closed but they couldn’t even do that. They were a stupid, useless…

“Need help?” Isa had walked over stand next to them, meaning he could see them struggling.

With a shaky breath, they turned to face him properly and let their hands drop. “Yes, please.” Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. They needed help just dressing themself now apparently.

He leaned in and did it for them. It took him mere seconds to do before he was pulling back. “I can look at that later and try to alter it a little so it’s easier for you to manage.”

“I… I just need to get used to it.” He wanted to be a clothing designer though so… “Or uh… if you really want to, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

That earned a slight smile from him. “All right, I’ll look at it later tonight then or whenever you’re ready, okay?”

Siffrin nodded. All the times he’d gotten a look at the cloak had been undone. Maybe if he got a really good look at it when working on the clasps, he’d have more insight to share about it and how it was made. That would be nice.

Mira stepped up next to Isa. “Would you like a hug now or… do you want some space? That was… a lot. So, so much. I don’t even… What do you need from us?”

Fully clothed again, the anger bubbling up and threatening to make him explode at them again had shimmered down. It had become just a heavy dense weight in his chest, making it hard to breath. He wanted to cry. During the loops when he’d needed to the most, he hadn’t been able to. Would that still be the case now or was he too broken to cry? Too broken to be fixed, too broken to cry, too broken to be anything other than broken. A thing that should’ve been thrown out a long time ago.

He whimpered and flexed his hands as much as he could, not reaching for the dagger. Everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to answer Mira. They were worried and looked so sad and upset and it was his fault. All sharing had done was make them feel bad and him even worse. And he needed to answer. “A… a hug.” Asking to be touched was embarrassing and shameful. Normal people didn’t need to ask, right? They just did. All the casual friendly touches everyone else exchanged with each other that he could never have because no one wanted to touch him.

Mira stepped forward and wrapped her arms around them, pulling them close. She was warm and smelled pleasantly of a plume scented perfume. Not currently wearing their heeled shoes, they were shorter than her, making resting their face against her shoulder feel almost natural as they returned her embrace. And then Isa was wrapping his arms around both of them, warm, strong and wonderful. Then Odile was there too, not quite part of the hug because she wasn’t a big huger but close enough to put an only somewhat awkward hand on his shoulder. It was nice.

“Can I cry too?” Because he still wanted to but it would be weird to cry on Mira. Weird and gross and crossing a line. And so instead he was asking permission like the weird pathetic emotionally stunted freak that he was.

She squeezed him a little bit tighter. “Of course you can.”

“Cry as much as you need to,” Isa added.

He still shouldn’t though, right? What right did he have to burden them with his tears? … But it was too late. His chest was already heaving with a sob as a sound he wouldn’t have he could make escaped him. Maybe he could have this for just a little bit. He was tired of feeling bad.