Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It didnt surprise you anymore. The aching loneliness you carried on your shoulders, the dissapointment when no one visited. 5 months since they've been gone. Since you've realized them all, and they're living their own human lives. Some of them are still close with you, like Mac and the Hanks, but you feel... like something's missing. Over 100 people– no, objects, you made human, and barely any of them stayed close with you. You knew you had to let it go at some point, yet the feeling didn't go away. At all.

And like you'd always had, you began to spiral. Spiral deep into your thoughts, about how they were just 'loving' you to be human, to escape from your house just so they wouldn't have to deal with you any longer. The oh-so miserable, insufferable you that never matured from your own feelings. It feels almost the same, when you were in highschool and were outcasted. That same desperation, the yearning for connection, anything from someone, anyone at all. It would've been better to have been mean to me, you thought. Yet no matter how long you laid there, sprawled across Bett- no, your bed, the thoughts never faltered. They grew stronger. Like you were drowning, suffocating in a mess you made yourself.

'You were never good enough,' a soft voice whispered in your mind. It sounded like you. It wasn't audible, at least not clearly, but it was easily your own mind making these things. 'Never will be, (Y/N).'

A deep sigh you let out made them silent for just a second, seemingly at peace. And then all the rage, the sorrow, the disappointment, the emptiness of it all came pouring out in racing memories and thoughts. Of all the times you had disappointed a dateable, made them upset, did something that made them hate you. Your own 'relationships' with your beloveds felt like they were crumbling, your occasional chats keeping them only slightly afloat.

Notification after notification unread on Phoenic- your phone. You picked it up, expecting them all, or at least somebody, to finally talk to you. To engage first for once.

It was in the fucking groupchat, presumably an argument between several people. God, you hated how loud they could be sometimes. You didn't even glance at the message, just marking it as read.

Eventually loneliness gets you, one way or another. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for you that evening before you got back into your destructive habits. The same ones you said you swear you'd quit the other night, when you felt the same pain, the same feeling of being left behind. The same exact ones when you felt outcasted back in school. But just when you thought you had reliable people you could hang out with, love, care for, just be there for each other in general, it all went down. And by the same people who've watched you destroy yourself over, and over, and over again.

The bathroom door creaked open, not even bothering to lock it since no one could stop you in your own house anymore, and you grabbed the blade. Your small, sharp razor blade. It was beggining to become dull, but you barely felt like going out. Especially when you looked like that. A pathetic mess, messy hair, eyebags, everything you deemed unattractive. You sat down on the lid of Jean l- of your toilet, blade in hand and cutting with a deep inhale.

You wanted to say it hurt you. But after almost every night, the same routine with your blade in hand to your wrists and thighs, to anywhere on your body you could cut, it felt as if the pain had numbed down to almost nothing. Yeah, it stung, but that didn't give you the same adrenaline you desired to suppress your emotional and mental feelings. You did more, still barely feeling something that you truly craved. So you put some bandages over the larger open wounds and went down to the kitchen.

Beverl- no, stop. Why do you keep thinking of them? Of the ones who abandoned you? Besides that. Those are the exact thoughts you wanted out right now, no time to dwell. Just go, get a drink, anything in there. You looked through each cabinet, trying to find a bottle of wine that wasn't empty. 'Finally, just one. That'll have to do for tonight,' you thought. You knew your cabinets were a bit cluttered, messy, even, and that you weren't going to do anything soon about it. Yet you also knew you wouldn't be able to ignore the utter mess in your kitchen, or rather house, when you woke up past noon.

Coolness hit your lips, the alcoholic beverage not even poured into a glass or cup. Just straight from the bottle. It tasted sweet, just like your feelings for-

For once, you sat the bottle down. The sweetness of your wine made you remember when you had trusted them all. The 'sweetness' of the blooming romances. Your mind races with guilt, but you sure as hell don't feel guilty about anything you've done in the past evening. 'If anything,' your mind raced, 'they should all be the guilty ones for leaving me like this!'

And so you sobbed. Barely anything left for you to drown your emotions in. It all felt so hopeless. You started to believe it truly was. 'Nothing left for a pathetic failure like me, after all.' Your own mind wailed out, ugly tears streaming down your cheeks as your face heated up.

More notifications buzzed from your phone, and you weakly opened the messages with your arm that now felt like it was throbbing- oh right, the bleeding got worse, because it just had to.

Getting up slowly, you got more bandages and did it properly this time. Probably no infections this time, hopefully.

Then there was the messages, and you were so scared to look at them. You wiped some tears away before opening the new unread texts.

Or, well, the several hundreds of texts that spanned an hour or so in the time that you were cutting and drinking.

Every one of them was... concerned? Not annoyed, not angry, not anything that made you feel utterly worthless?

"What has the human been up to? Anyone seen them lately?" Harper sent.
Several replies saying no, how they were so busy, maybe even worried about you.
"I miss them. Wish I could visit more often." Dorian said, in reply.
"Me too... it feels as if my penumbra is shrouded past the darkness in a way." Skips texts.
And so, so many more, all asking if you're there, how you've been doing, if you're okay, etc.

The tears stopped for a moment as you read on, so many texts flooding the chat

"Me and Eddie miss them, too. We're planning to visit soon, though!" From Volt.
"My little wretch needs to come with me on a heist one day. Their mistress must show them how wonderful it is." From Sophia.
"I wanna do sexy dice with you again! After baseball season finishes, of course." From Parker.
"Ī MĮŞ-§ ŦĤƐ ĤŬMÂŊ." From Daemon.
"I've been thinking of featuring some lines from them in a new single!" From Miranda.
"RANGER WE HAVE ANOTHER MISSION. OVER." From Luke.
"My beauty, you have no idea how much I yearn for you every day of my life." From Hector.

All these messages, all those promises to see you
Yeah right, those fucking liars. You felt like they're faking.
You wanted to say something, anything to prove them wrong. To make them actually care instead of them faking it.
Because if they actually cared, you wouldn't be in your kitchen at 12 am with open wounds all over your body and drinking wine.
You wouldn't be in an endless cycle of slight hope, only to be crushed back down to the familiar pain.

"And just how do I know you're all not lying? Just to make me believe you'll see me again? I'm so fucking tired of all of your shit." And you sent it. Numerous people started to type just seconds after you sent that, some tried calling you, but it went to voicemail.

Just like that, your last ties with them were cut, hopefully.

Sleep didn't come easily that night, a feeling in your gut that something was wrong or because you had drank on an empty stomach, maybe both. Eventually your eyes closed, and when you woke up, it was already 1:30 pm and you were hearing loud knocking at the front door.

You put on presentable enough clothing, long sleeves and long pants, and went down, slightly wobbly from pain in your thighs.

When you opened the door, you didn't expect several people outside your house, all gathered. Not just random people, the dateables. The ones you said 'didn't care'. Dorian stood in front, looming over you as stared at the crowd. He gently, yet firmly, gripped your shoulder, looking you in the eyes. "Human, what was up with that message last night?" He asked out of genuine concern, slightly harsh. Farya and Hank 3, along with the other Hanks behind him, pushed past others to see what was going on.
"(Y/n)! Please answer Dorian's question, but I'd also like to ask you some stuff of my own, now." Farya stated, trying to stay calm. Hank 3 stood on the other side of Dorian, "Yeah House Homie! It's not cool if you just leave us hangin' like that, especially with your tendencies-"

"You guys knew?" You said in a soft voice, suddenly feeling very self-conscious for one of the first times in a while since you've realized them all. You wanted to just go into your house and cry, but you couldn't since you're already here and they're also here.

Slow nods come from basically everyone out there, and it feels terribly awkward with the silence. And with you, being you, and also being confronted with your self-destructive habits and other issues, decide to flee this intervention-like meet-up. Great time for fight or flight insticts to kick it, right! Right?
Your front door slammed shut, the heaviness of it hitting against Hank 3's fingers as he tried to block it from shutting. "Fuck... not gnarly, dude..." he muttered. You bolted up the stairs, feeling like there's a mass of eyes growing upon you, watching your every move. Just like when you found out all your objects are sentient. You ran to your upstairs bathroom, locking the door to make sure that even if they do get in, they won't find where you're at.

'Why? Why hide from help? Why do you even do this to yourself? You're just an attention seeking, pathetic bitch. You can't even talk about your own emotions like an actual adult.' The voice grows louder in your mind, it's the only thing you can even properly think of now. And you so desperately want it to shut up, 'because you know I'm right, aren't I?' It pesks at all your little insecurities, piling it all up until you snap. And just like always, you go and reach for you blade again. 'Like you always do... can't go a day without cutting yourself, can you? You'll always be a shitty loser if you keep this up.' No matter how hard you protested against it in your mind, that underlying voice was terribly right.

"(Y/n)?! Please, come out! (Y/N)!!" Someone calls out to you, you think it might be Daisuke. You think, 'no matter who wants me, I'll never learn to accept this. They certainly won't want that side of me either.'

Bandages unravel as you take them off, then immediately start cutting again. It's gruesome, and you swear you feel dizzy and lightheaded, but think nothing of it. You're just over-reacting like you always do. But those wounds aren't overreacting with how much blood you're losing now. Okay, now you start to think this much might be a bit too damn dangerous. As you try to stand up, someone knocks at the door of the bathroom you're in. You grip onto the edge of the sink, but your grip weakens as you manage to unlock the door to frightened Mac.

"Oh- Oh my fucking god!" They open the door, grabbing your hands to pull you up from the ground once you're barely conscious. "Wha... huh? Who.. are you?"

"No time for that right now, (Y/n)! Someone, (Y/n)'s over here! They're almost passed out!"

You barely manage to hear the tail end of their conversation, then see Shelley and Dasha carrying you over somewhere, then you blacked out.

By the time you woke up, it was past 8 pm and a few people stood around you in a hospital room. Namely, Farya and Hank 3 (your doctors here), Skylar, Daisuke, and Daemon. You assume that the others weren't allowed due to capacity limit in visitation.

"(Y/n)! You're up, good. Let me get some more vitals now, and just stay there. And also, PLEASE never do that! You nearly scared me to death when I heard you were im such danger from Daemon, who uh, may or may not have been stalking you throughout your house." She said with a slightly sheepish smile at the end. Daemon just flirtly giggled at this, her glitched voice almost soothing in a way.
"Not exactly the time for giggles." Skylar nudged him with her elbow, going right through the messed-up code. Daisuke spoke up, "(Y/n), I do hope you're doing well, or at least better, now." He said while averting eye contact. You sat in the hospital bed, wearing a light blue gown and of course, the infamous grippy socks at literally any hospital. You listened to the three as they rambled on about whatever was happening in their lives, all while Farya and Hank 3 took vital and bloodwork and such.
It almost brought a smile to your face, seeing how happy they were to be talking with you. But you remembered, because your brain just loves to always keep the negative memories replaying over the positive. Why only now, when you were kinda feeling suicidal, did they come to visit? They could've been here any other time, but only when you're in danger? Are they trying to be some sort of hero or saviour complex, whatever it's called? Whatever. You lay down on the cold, stiff mattress of the hospital 'bed' and try to think of something else, something besides the dateables and how lonely your entire life in general has been.

Chapter Text

"(Y/n)?" Skylar calls out to you in a sweet tone. You lift your head up, tilting it to look at her. "You good?" She asks with a small thumbs up motion, and you nod in reply. Her smile seems to falter for just a second, her doubt showing in her face. But Skylar doesn't want to be too nosy and pry when you didn't want her too.

For the first time in a few weeks- no, maybe months? You felt comfortable in your skin. Not physically, of course, with all the bandages adorning your arms and legs and whatnot, but at least mentally. You sat up more properly, reaching into your pocket to see what time it was. But since there aren't any pockets in the hospital gown you're wearing, your phone wasn't there. Your eyes darted across the room, landing on a clock that said 9:43 pm, so you spaced out for over a whole hour?!

You sigh, slumping down a bit. Looking down at the blanket placed on your lap, it reminds you a lot of the softness of Mateo, except this blanket was thin and almost rough to the touch. Those supplies over there, that reminds you of Penelope but more organized than you kept her in your office. Wherever you go, you just can't seem to let them all go. Not the memories, not their actions, not even the people themselves. Why do you hold onto them with an iron fist? Why are you even like this?

Before you know it, tears start to well up in your eyes again. And there goes that sense of comfort because your mind just loves to do that to you! A nurse knocks at the door, holding a tray of food, places your dinner at the hospital bed's side table. 'Disgusting,' you think, but can't tell if you thought it about the unappetizing meal or yourself. Either way, you just couldn't dare to bring yourself to eat anything. You felt nauseous just looking at it.

Skylar comes closer to you, "Are.. are you sure you're okay? You promise?" She lifts down her glasses, staring you directly into your eyes. "Yeah, just not very hungry right now." You manage to say weakly. When did you start feeling so tired? Back to the hospital bed once more, you lay down. Your eyes shut for just a few moments before the aching pain in your stomach got stronger, and stronger. It just didn't stop.

Hank 3 comes into the room, "Sorry, bros, but visiting time's over.. come back tomorrow at, like, 7 am." He tries to stay calm, but you all hear a crack or two in his voice. Was he... crying? No, he couldn't have.

So you're left alone, once more, in this monochrome room, with the lights now turned off. All you hear is faint beeping and talking from nightshift nurses. You can barely see anything, only the monitor faintly glowing beside the bed, opposite to the table where the food has now grown cold. Doesn't matter, you couldn't even eat it regardless. At least with how you were feeling right now.

'They all think you're wasting their time.' Your voice says in your mind. It's not you– never will be, but you just hate how you believe it so much.

Cold sweat drips down your entire body as you wake up. You sat up straight immediately, heart racing. 'What the hell happened? Why am I here?' You thought at first, then it all came pouring back. Your text, the cuts, the drinking, any and all of your memories. The one thing you couldn't ever fucking let go of. You loathed that part of you.

But when you start to look around, it's dark in your hospital room. Too dark, like if shadows were enveloping it fully. You start thinking it's Skips' doing but you don't see him anywhere near. It feels like a void, the only thing keeping it from being a pure black empty mess was you and some of the hospital things still in there.

You look to your right, seeing the food from earlier but it has a putrid stench. You slowly open the container, and it's some sort of rotten, moldy, amalgamated mess- holy shit, is that an eyeball?! You try your best not to be sick, but alas you threw up the nothingness from your stomach back into the nothingness of this void. For some reason, you keep staring at it, despite your continued dry heaving every few seconds.

It looks like you.

The lid then closed itself, making you jump in surprise at the sudden loud noise of it. You start noticing the noise in here, or rather, lack of it. It's so... quiet. You turn around to face the left, looking at the monitor showing your data and other medical stuff you can barely recognize right now in such a daze. The one thing you do notice is that it's flat. 'Aren't hearts supposed to be beating? What is even going on...' you thought.

Trying to get up, your body feels so weak, almost as if it was chained down to something. You look down at your wrists, then your ankles. Of course they had to be. What else would this damn void be about than 'the worst of whatever you're thinking'? You sighed, a long exhale seeming visible in the frigid chilliness of this place. Strange, you didn't notice the temperature at all. It was cool, yes, but not freezing.

A light walking pattern took you out of your thoughts. Someone else was here? You tried turning around to see if anyone was there, but you couldn't see past the darkness.

"Hey dork." A voice, presumably the same one who made those footsteps, said in front of the bed. 'Was that Doug?' You thought, now looking at the front(?) of this void and seeing the grey man.

"Why- how... What are you doing here? Why am I here? What is this place?" You asked him rapidly, barely slowing down. He almost looked taken aback by your sudden gain of energy from the past few days, if not for his unmoving face, but it's honestly just from your sudden curiosity to what's going on around you.

"Calm down. This is just your mind, no need to act like that. This is just all stuff your thinking subconsciously." He said monotonely, you then see he's wearing only shorts and crocs. It's fitting since it's summer, but he couldn't have chosen something more... presentable?

"How are you in my mind? I know I realized you. You're... a human, you can't be here." You stated. And of course he does that little smirk. What else does he do besides shit-eating grins and bullying you? "That the thing dorkus, you'll forever have existential dread even if you realized me. I'm more of a haunting presence now than an actual being. Is your skull still too thick to get that through?" He said, going on his phone mid-sentence, probably doomscrolling.

You both stay silent for what felt like hours, and it honestly could've been. Your eyes shut for a few seconds, (or was it minutes?) and then there was a voice. Not yours this time, surprisingly.

It was faint, and the voice sounded like it belonged to one of the dateables. You opened your eyes, noticing nothing new besides that Doug wasn't there anymore. The same voice got louder, but you still couldn't place a face behind it. Was it Nightmare, maybe? She could've done something like this. But she couldn't make that many voices, not as many as you were hearing right now, all at once. You're still in your mind, of course, and they just kept on growing louder and sounding like there was more.

You tried to make out some of them, only to be met with what you perceived as your worst fear ever, everyone was lying. Only now did they show their true colors.

You see Fantina in her cheerleading outfit, all happy-go-lucky until she spots you on your hospital bed. "Oh, now you're pulling shit like this? You're so gullible to really believe you of all people would have a fan, especially not with how you act and look!" She says, her hands on her hips. Then in just a few seconds, she seemingly falls into dust and disappears in the void. You're shocked at this, mouth slightly open at the fact you'd just witnessed someone you loved and cared deeply for basically die right in front of you. But you aren't given nearly enough time to process what had happened as someone else appears besides where Fantina stood.

Friar Errol stands before you now, manual in one hand and his free hand pointing at you. "You have committed too many sins, so much gluttony! No one would ever forgive you for the amount of oily, filthy food you've consumed." He stares at you in disgust, as if you're a demon. You think that you might be one in his eyes. And just like Fantina, he starts to fade away into nothing. You're just as hurt as the first time, since you never expected them to act so... harsh? Blunt? Towards you. But you're just a little less shocked when he went away. You know this is all just a dream, but what if what they're saying is true about you? What if they're just lying and truly despise you?

Telly's voice interrupts your deep thoughts, loud like they usually are. "Not even I would watch your life if it was a show or movie! You'd certainly be an antagonist, and for you that's not groovy!" He said, borderline shouting with wacky hand movements you couldn't keep up with. "You're just faking, and everyone's now wakin'!" Mid movement, they start to disappear just like the other two. And now, you're just left with your own thoughts. No one to tell you that you're terrible, just left there confused and wondering what your friends and lovers all actually think of you. It feels agonizingly long before you wake up, and even then, are you sure you're awake?

Fluttering open, the first thing your eyes see is a small teddy bear placed neatly next to you on the bed. You obviously don't remember it being there before you fell asleep last night. Upon closer inspection, it has a small note placed in between its small, fuzzy arms.

Your arms move to grab it, wincing in pain as you feel your cuts hurting once more. Someone in the room must've noticed you're awake because you hear footsteps come closer before you even started to read the note. "(Y/n)! You're finally awake, hello!" Prissy enthusiastically states. A few feet behind her stands Kopi and Amir, each holding something. Kopi is holding two drinks in a tray, each distinct by its unique packaging. One is your favorite kind of coffee, made by her, and the other is a new drink from Beverley. Amir is holding a bag, presumably with designer or upscale clothing in it, judging by the logo on the sleek bag.

Prissy Plastique practically jumps onto you, giving you a tight squeeze before the nurse on duty has to tell her to "get off the patient". She starts to talk, and you listen to her ramble on and on. "Anyways, I've just gotten a new position as MCR! Do you wanna try shrooms with me? Someone told me about their psychedelic effects, and I want to get more.. research, in!" Those few sentences caught your, Kopi and Amir's attention fairly quickly. "Prissy, you do know what just happened to them, right?" Kopi tries to sound nice and calm, but there's a hint of irritation in her voice.

"Of course I do! They got hospitalized. That's why they're in the hospital..?" Prissy replied to her. The other two shared a collective sigh. "Do you know WHY they were? And also, you shouldn't mention shrooms in a hospital setting!" Amir shouted. Everybody stays silent for a few seconds, Kopi and Amir waiting for Prissy to answer. He takes it as a no and sighs once more, even more dramatic flair to it this time.

"Azizam is here because they self-harmed multiple times and the doctors said they found them intoxicated as well. It's not the best idea to go onto another substance, especially after they self-sabotaged like that!" Amir spoke in almost a hushed tone, and Prissy nodded along with every word he said.

She starts to apologize for her ignorance. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)-"

"Did any of you guys even care?" You cut her off. "Why's it only now when I'm a danger to myself did you all decide to visit? Why couldn't any of you see me when I'm just me and not a threat?"

Your words must've stung deep inside them, because what followed was silemce that felt like forever. You avoided looking up at any of them, barely even noticing that they left.

After a few more hours of mental evaluation and continuing to help heal up your cuts, you're (begrudgingly) discharged and not sent away to a grippy sock vacayᵀᵐ.

Someone's already out in the parking lot, waiting for you to drive you back. Walking over, you see it's Florence and beside her is Celia. Florence waves at you, beckoning for you to come over.

You walk over to them and their car, sitting in the back as Florence drives and Celia sits in the passenger seat. "Hey! Uh, long time no see, huh? How are you, (Y/N)?" Florence says, making small talk. You mumble out, "I've been okay." To both of them.

"Please don't lie straight to our faces, (Y/N). How are you really feeling?" Celia spoke more eloquently, yet you replied the exact same way. You three sat in silence for the rest of the ride, besides the typical noises one expects from traffic. They managed to get you back surprisingly quick, and you say thanks to Florence as you exit her car to go inside.

As you fumble with your keys to your front door, you somehow get it open and see at least 10 people already in your house, waiting for you and preparing your house for your arrival. Which is now, and they all were a bit surprised. You stare at them all in disbelief, looking around to see who was in here. Your mind was honestly debating calling the police for trespassing or breaking and entering but you were just so... stunned that they'd do this in general.

All you were able to do was close your door, take off your shoes, and just lay down on your bed. The hell are they all doing here? How do you even confront them to leave? What are they all planning? You sure don’t want to see what any of them are up to.