TW suicide attempt, psychophobia
Kasem and Ijaaz belong to @noa-de-cajou
"You're a dumbass, jeez", Kasem shouted "How could you do this to me?!"
"Calm down, or the nurses are going to throw you out of here", Ijaaz calmly responded. "I'm going to fetch you coffee for the both of you, I think you need some... time to talk together."
I reached for my glasses when I heard the door being shut. I dared not take a look at my husband, whom I felt glaring upon me.
"Why ? Just why, Gaspard?"
"Didn't you read my note?"
"Of course I read it!", they screamt on the verge of tears. "Why are you like this? Why didn't you talk to me? Why?"
"Because that therapist is right. Because everyone is right", I said with a trembling voice. "I am bad for you. I will ruin your life and I will ruin our child's life if we have one. Everyone is right, Kasem. Everyone."
I finally gathered enough courage to lock eyes with him.
"I should've succeeded. And you would've been happy with Ijaaz."
He tried to respond, before giving up and collapsing on the chair of my hospital chamber. He wiped a tear off their cheek.
"You know I can't live without you. And... I have done enough harm around me and-"
"For fuck's sake SHUT UP!" he burst out crying. "Shut your fucking mouth! I've almost lost my husband due to your bullshit, if another word comes out of your..."
They let out a muffled scream. I looked at him in silence, waiting for him to continue.
"I am so sorry not to have seen anything", he finished by saying.
"I don't blame you, I am a good liar. And I had a plan since... forever, I guess. Never thought I would really act on it, I thought that narcissism would shield me from that, but... Here we are."
"Idiot", he mumbled/
"What shame, defeat and self-loathing do to a man", I said while putting out my glasses. I couldn't bear the disapproval in his eyes, in the way his mouth bent.
He rose from the chair, and came to my side. My hand in his, they somewhat forced me to stay in contact, not to retreat in my head, and his touch was comforting. It proved me he was in my corner, after all. I didn't deserve that tenderness, but I am only a man. I closed my eyes and prayed for him to stay.
"Look at me, making it all about me again", I whispered. "What a fool I am."
"Gaspard, this is about you now. You tried to kill yourself. I am just... relieved you're alive. This is a lot to process", he murmured before he kissed me on the forehead. "When you were still asleep, I uh... I talked to the doctors, and we agreed that the soundest thing is that you get hospitalized for a bit. It's up to you, but... you know."
"I just want us to go home, now", I chuckled. "I just want to cook dinner with you, watch a movie and I don't know, just cuddle until we're asleep. I want to go home."
"I'll... see what I can do."
We just stayed silent, wiping each other tears. I snuggled against him, their warmth filling me with comfort and a sense of being loved for who I am even if I am a mess. And it was just so much of a feeling, I just needed him by my side and I couldn't stand living in a world where I am the monster and he was my victim. He deserved so much more, so much better, than I could ever provide. But still, he loved me. And he was the most important person in my entire life.
"Never again. I don't want to see you like that ever again."
"I'm sorry", I couldn't help but wept.
I opened my eyes. They were close enough for me to distinguish their features. His ocean eyes. His long hair. His smooth skin.
"I don't want to hurt you anymore... You're too precious for me."
"I know, Gaspard. I know you do your best, and you don't know how much you do for me. I want you alive. I need you alive."
"Will we go home soon?"
"We will. I promise."
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Dion song associations - lightning round!
"Line Without a Hook" By Ricky Montgomery; water themings and longing vibes made me just kinda latch this song onto Dion for no real reason. it vibes.
"The Kids Aren't Alright" by Fallout Boy; this one vibes so hard actually. I don't have an infodump as to why it's connected I just think the refrain fits Dion pretty well.
"Semi-Automatic" by 21 Pilots. "The family will be better off when YOU'RE out!" Dion you mean little bitch. You mean little asshole I am going to crumple you like a piece of paper. Oughhhh
"Dazed & Confused" by Ruel is such a HUGE Dion/Gisu song to me. Just. Dion grappling with his bigotry and what Gisu's actually like,,, the BRIDGE oh my godddddd this is. You get the vibes right
"Painkiller" by Ruel. idk man something about the vibes. The slow dance feeling of this song. The "Heartbreaks, headaches / the doctor says I'm diagnosed with / shit days, mistakes / but I'll be fine." Do you get my vision do you feel the vibes.
"Wrecking Ball" by Mother Mother. Just. Dion making these awful little mistakes that hurt his loved ones because she's an emotionally repressed teenager with Issues. Feeling remorse over how she's not as good an older sibling as she wants to be. hhhhhhh
"Trampoline" by The Front Bottoms. Dion & Frazie reconnecting after the events of the games vibes, after the psychophobia and secrets and adolescent stresses pushed them apart.
"I Like Me Better" by Lauv. Kind of a joke one but like. Dion/Gisu Dion/Gisu Dion/Gisu Dion/Gisu Dion/Gisu. I am a sappy little romantic at heart and I very much love the idea of these two being able to be happy together.
"Turn Off the Lights" by Panic! At the Disco. This is mostly a vibes one but also "Our consciences are always heavier than our egos / I set my expectations high / so nothing ever comes out right" and "So I'm taking every chance I got / like the man I know I'm not" and "I need a little sympathy / disarm my insecurities" LIKE DO YOU SEE IT. DO YOU SEE MY VISION
"Forest" by 21 Pilots. Something about these lyrics just,,,, I might have to do a full infodump on the vibes I get and the animatic I imagine but stuff like "I don't want to be heard / I want to be listened to" and "I took some food for thought / it might be poisoned / the stomach in my brain / throws up onto the page" and like. The whole bridge but especially "Something happened to my imagination / this situation's becoming dire / my treehouse is on fire / and for some reason I smell gas on my hands" and Dion growing up too fast because of her parentification. I just. I just. oughhh
"I/Me/Myself" by Will Wood; GENDERFLUID DION GENDERFLUID DION GENDERFLUID DION
"Be Nice to Me" by The Front Bottoms. This is also a "Raz is babey and tired after the games" song to me but like. It also vibes to Dion so so well, like just "There are certain things you ask of me / and there are certain things I'll lack / the beginning we were winning / now I'm just making up facts" and "I try to write you poems, but the words they don't make sense / The hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are too tense / I try to show emotion, but my eyes won't seem to wet / I'd love to tell you stories, but I can't remember how they went" and then just. "I think you're changing / Don't worry you don't gotta stay the same" and Dion slowly coming around to everything that's happened, to Raz' embracing of his powers. I just. Yeah this is a huge song for the Aquatos in general but Dion brainrot go brrrr
"Glowing Eyes" by 21 Pilots; this is a vibes one but like. Dion having to work through their issues.
"Trapped in the Thought of Free" by Faith Marie. No I have no idea how to explain it but it vibes I swear. Dion would listen to this unironically and also it vibes with his character trust me
"prom queen" by beach bunny. You can't tell me this song doesn't vibe with Dion Aquato I will not hear it. I'm too busy having fun with the knowledge that this song vibes with Dion Aquato and he would unironically listen to this.
"Way Less Sad" by AJR. Yeah it's really easy to make AJR songs vibe but like. This one definitely vibes with Dion. She's getting better but it's slow. It's not an easy process.
"Prom Dress" by Mxmtoon. Do you see my vision. Do you see it. "I keep collections / of masks upon my wall / to keep myself from / revealing it all / upsetting others is the last thing I would do / I keep to myself though I want to break through" and "I'm sitting here / crying in my prom dress / I'd be the prom queen / if crying was a contest / makeup is running down / feelings are all around / how did I get here / I need to know" DO YOU SEE MY VISION. DO YOU SEE THE VIBES
"Demons & Angels" by Marina. Another vibes one but trust me it fits I swear. "Try to change / but I can't get a grip / wondering if I was born like this" and just. the entire fucking song are you getting these vibes
"World's Smallest Violin" by AJR. I think about that ending bit so much. I think about it and my Dion brain ideas so much. And like. Yeah Dion's got issues but so does the whole family!! So Dion feeling like his issues are small and unimportant in comparison to everyone else's but still needing to vent. mm
"MANiCURE" by Lady Gaga. Again this is both vibes and "Dion would listen to this and enjoy it. Dion would sing this to themself under their breath while working" and I am RIGHT.
"Sorry About Your Parents" by Icon For Hire. This is another vibes one, mostly the whole vibe of "yeah shit sucks but you can't just lay around crying about it because that's no way to live" and how that fits Dion in my mind. Also the song is a bop.
"Pieces" by Icon for Hire because yes. This fits Dion so so well oh my godddddd like just. "You can fight just like you've been taught / it won't undo the life you've got / Cause the pieces won't pick up themselves you know" and "You're not running just enough of a wreck / to hold the hurt heart everybody expects" and I'm going to explode this is such a Dion song to me AUGH
"Venom" by Icon for Hire. Yes I know I just put down three Icon songs in a row I'm going in the order of my playlist. Anyway. "Misery, Misery is the venom in my brain" and "Don't meet their eyes, it's hypnotic / make you forget that it's toxic / caught up in all the chaotic / sold you a lie and you bought it" and "I can't tell if it's real though / Don't know if it's lethal / did we drink the poison / or just a placebo?" and "Don't look down / you won't get far / you're only as strong as you think you are" and this is a Dion song. Yes I know I didn't explain it well but you gotta trust me on this.
"Allies or Enemies" by The Crane Wives. This is a Dion & Raz reconciliation song and I will not hear otherwise. "The words I speak are wildfire and weeds / they spread like some awful damn disease / I swear I didn't mean what I said / I swear I didn't mean it" and the way that Dion's so mean to Raz, the flicker of regret on his face after telling Raz the family would be better off without him, augh augh augh. And then "Remember when I could tell you not to smile when you were mad? / And you would always crack / and we'd both be laughing in the end" THEY USED TO BE SO CLOSE BUT "And now you're not so quick to forget" THEY'RE NOT ANYMORE. And then just,,, "I'll admit I've had my doubts / But I want to be let in, not out" and the refrain as Dion and Raz being able to reconcile and try again, ough ough aughhhhh
"Disco in the Panic Room" by Bug Hunter. Definitely a Dion song. Like. Look at this kid. Look at this kid with his struggles and anxieties and tell me that this song doesn't fit him. "If I look cool I'm fooling you / at any point you can assume / my mind's computing every path that screws up what I wanna do" and "I made a promise / now I feel nauseous... I'm honestly exhausted" and "The things that I can't shoulder well / I pass onto my older self / and hope I learn to cope so I don't end up broke or overwhelmed" and I just. this whole song is a bop and it fits Dion so well
"Problems" by Mother Mother. Dion would listen to this. Dion would vibe to this and this song lowkey vibes to him and yeah,,,
"It's Alright" by Mother Mother. DION WOULD VIBE TO THIS SONG AND I AM RIGHT. He would hear this and it would hit his chest and he'd listen to it unironically I am correct. "Oh hey / I had a night I had a day / I did one million stupid things / I said one billion foolish things / I'm not okay" like. That's a Dion line right there.
That's not every song on my playlist bc some are more AU-related or harder to explain, but it's most of them I think.
Omw to youtube music
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Whumptober Day 24: Fight, flight, or freeze
Blood-covered hands + "I don't want to do this anymore"
3041 Words; Ouroboros AU
TW for exploitation, bloodsport, violence, blood, injury, abuse, prejudice
AO3 ver
Dion had grown up having it pounded into his head to never go near the water. Had grown up with his father’s and Nona’s and mother’s warnings that their family is cursed, that they will die if they violate the one rule: stay away from the water.
And Dion believed it. How could he not, when nobody in his family knew how to swim?
(His mother might have, once, before she had met Augustus. But swimming was a skill, and skills take practice to build and maintain. His mother had not gone swimming for nearly two decades.)
How could he not, when he’d grown up seeing fear reflected in his father’s eyes, when his Nona always shied away from storms and streams and cloudy skies?
(He had once believed it to be remnants of the Valermo Dam Incident. Believed that his mother echoed the tales of the curse not because it was real, but because the water was still a very real danger to small children prone to wandering.)
Dion had had the curse pounded into his head, had nearly been claimed by it himself, had watched Raz nearly die to it countless times—
Dion had grown up having it pounded into his head never to go near the water. He had grown up believing in the curse, because he’d seen it in action time and time again.
And if his parents were right about the curse, then chances were they were right about the fortune tellers that cursed them. So Dion had grown up believing his father’s campfire tales of mentalists as tricksters, deceivers, monsters. Had grown up with psychics connected to the curse in his mind, connected to all of the suffering his family had dealt with.
(The fact that Raz always wanted to flaunt his powers grated at Dion. His brother had nearly died to the curse more often than anyone else in the family, the curse that psychics had placed upon them—so why would he want to be like that?
But his little brother kept reading his nerd books and wanting to be a powerful psychic, and—it scared Dion so much. Where had they gone wrong? Why didn’t Raz understand that being a fortune teller wasn’t a good thing—
But Raz wasn’t here now. He was back with the rest of the family, hopefully outgrowing his terrifying dreams of honing his powers.
Dion could only hope.)
Fortune tellers had always seemed like more than human, had always seemed just as unknowable and dangerous as the water their family was cursed to die in.
Dion was beginning to learn that there were worse things than fortune tellers.
Creed was more than a mere man; he was the insurmountable shadow, the undefeatable monster at the peak of the labyrinth. He oozed power and malice, brutal authority leaching out of him in every context. Everyone in Ouroboros lived by his rules, because Ouroboros was his domain to control. There was no winning against Creed. No method of survival beyond what he approved of. No third option—either submit, or perish.
It reminded Dion of his father’s tales and warnings. Reminded him of the creeping fear that grasped his chest at night, when all the shadows seemed to morph into monsters threatening the family. Like the Galochios that cursed them, Creed’s name brought only hate and terror. Like the Galochios that cursed them, Creed was a monster, a curse—something to fear and avoid.
But Creed wasn’t psychic. At all.
He didn’t need to be, to terrify Dion more than the curse. He didn’t need to be, to be a monster who turned other people into monsters—
(Dion was turning into a monster. Every time he stepped into that damn arena, every life he took just so he could live for another day—
The violence didn’t bother him, anymore. The blood on his hands no longer nauseated him. He didn’t hesitate, anymore.
That knowledge haunted him more than any corpse.)
Creed didn’t need to be a fortune teller to dig into a person’s flaws, to tear them apart with careful words and subtle manipulations.
Dion feared fortune tellers for what they had done to his family. For what they could do.
He’d quickly learned that Creed was somehow worse.
+=+=+=+=+
The first time Tammy had used her powers in front of Dion, he’d almost missed it. It was a small thing—a flick of her wrist to bring a pen to her hand—small enough that Dion might have missed it.
But he’d seen Raz attempt the same trick so many times before, had caught him trying to pick up and read through his nerd books without ever touching the pages. Had trained himself to recognize the gestures in other people, to better identify threats to the family—
It didn’t make sense. Tammy was—Dion couldn’t not respect her, couldn’t not see aspects of both of his parents in her, couldn’t not view her as an ally. Creed was the monster, Creed was the basis of new recurring nightmares, Creed was the one that Dion couldn’t not fear.
But Creed wasn’t psychic, and Tammy was.
Dion didn’t know how to reconcile it. He’d grown up knowing psychics as monsters, as unnatural. Had grown up separating them into their own little box, different from regular people.
But Tammy wasn’t a monster. Dion knew what monsters looked like, and Tammy wasn’t one.
(Raz wasn’t a monster, either. Obnoxious, and sometimes the worst brat Dion had ever dealt with, but he—Dion’s brother was not a monster.
Dion remembered the first time he’d caught his brother using his powers. Remembered the horror crushing his windpipe. It had taken him weeks to reconcile it, to figure out that Raz didn’t belong in that box in his head where he kept his fears, that he was still family. To figure out that Raz was an exception to the rule.)
Whether Tammy noticed Dion’s sudden inner turmoil, she didn’t comment. Whether she noticed him shying away from her, receding into himself in her presence while fear trickled down his spine like the water his family was cursed to die in—
She gave him a peculiar look, every so often, but let the matter lie. If she was reading his mind, if she was prying into the worst parts of him or dredging up his deepest secrets, she never commented on it.
Tammy was psychic, but she didn’t act like it. Didn’t act like the monsters that Dion had always known fortune tellers to be.
(“Hold onto whatever kindness you can, however small.” Tammy had told him, once, whispered into the silence like an omen. “Every kindness is a rebellion against him—don’t forget that.”
It had reminded Dion of Mirtala, hurt and hope sharp in his chest. If he let himself become a monster, she would never forgive him—he had to hold onto that. Had to remember her to keep from forgetting himself.
Everything he did—every bit of blood he sullied his hands with—it was for her sake. She was his responsibility, she was the reason he needed to exit that arena alive—Mirtala was his priority.
Dion was losing himself, he knew. He didn’t enjoy any of it, but it no longer bothered him as much as it did.
But Tammy was proof that Dion could avoid losing himself entirely. Mirtala was proof that there was still good in the world, and Dion would hold onto that reminder with everything he had.)
Tammy had experience. She had know-how of Ouroboros and how to survive in it. Dion likely wouldn’t even be alive were it not for her teachings and advice.
Tammy was psychic. But she wasn’t like other psychics. She wasn’t a monster. She was another exception to the rule, like Raz.
(It was the most that Dion could concede.)
+=+=+=+=+
Dion had never actually seen Tammy in her arena outfit before.
She looked so different, with the mask, fake feathers like a crown. She looked so different, so unlike the woman Dion was used to seeing, that he almost didn’t recognize her, almost thought her a spirit. But the way she held herself, experience written into her bones and fight in her posture, was unmistakable
This wasn’t a Death Pit. This was a regular ring, a four-way brawl between the Badger, the Coyote, the Secretarybird, and the Lion. It had drawn an audience almost as big as the Death Pit—the Secretarybird had a reputation, and it was rare that she was brought back into the ring. Rare enough to make it near impossible to not come and see her in action.
(Dion was building a reputation himself, as the Lion.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.)
Well, it was supposed to be a four-way brawl, but the Badger and Coyote were working together like they always did, and Dion found himself working in tandem with the Secretarybird to fight them.
Just like Dion had never seen Tammy in her arena outfit, he had never seen her in action. Sure, he had seen shades of it, had seen her demonstrate techniques for him to learn, had seen the experience written into her very being—but he had never seen her like this.
Her reputation was well-earned. Dion could flip around the arena and toss his opponents over him all he liked, but he was nothing compared to the ferocity and ease with which Tammy fended off her opponents. The way she danced around the arena, the way she kicked and disarmed and kept her opponents at arm’s reach, the way she could probably win this fight in an instant were it not for the audience demanding entertainment—
Dion had picked up various bits of animal trivia, in his time here. Had learned little facts about them in the books that Mirtala was gifted. Creed was many things, but he was not a careless man—he did not assign the masks and outfits randomly.
The Wolves in Ouroboros were never alone. The Rhino loved to charge her opponents and throw them into the air. The Tigress specialized in turning invisible and ambushing their opponents. The Badger and Coyote worked together well, despite everyone else hating the Coyote. The Owl always knew more than they let on. The Ravens often worked with the Wolves. The Rabbit was near impossible to catch. The Eagle had knives.
And the Secretarybird fought with stunningly strong kicks.
(Dion had never even heard of secretary birds before ending up in Ouroboros. But then one of the Hens had given Mirtala a book on birds, and she’d asked Dion to read it with her.
He’d also learned that secretary birds murdered snakes with prejudice. He wondered what that said about Tammy’s relationship with Creed.)
While Dion’s style was shaping to include his background as an acrobat, Tammy’s style was brutal, her legs converted into weapons, her body a whirl of feathers and muscle and dexterity.
(It was little mystery who was going to win this fight. Dion at least hoped he’d make a good enough show before he went down.)
The Coyote went down with a sharp kick to the chest, gasping around ribs that might have been fractured. Of course, this was a four-way brawl, so the fight wasn’t over yet.
The Badger knocked Dion to the floor, pinning him down with one hand and raising the other to strike—
Panic blanked Dion’s mind. Terror and arenaline moved his body.
He shoved the Badger off of him and flipped her, her body slamming into the dirt with a small wheeze. Dion immediately moved on muscle memory to lift her back up and snap her neck—
The Secretarybird’s boot slammed into his side, knocking him to the floor. He rolled with the impact, springing to his feet and whirling around—
The Badger was sprawled on the ground, hands held up in surrender, the Secretarybird looming over her.
The only thing that registered was that she was still alive and the audience was cheering for blood and Dion needed to fight, needed to win so he could live—
The Secretarybird grunted as she pinned Dion down in the dirt. “It’s over, little lion.” She urged. “This isn’t the Death Pit.”
The cage bars casted shadows across them both. Dion’s mask pressed into his face.
Dion struggled, heart threatening to jackhammer straight through his chest. No, no, he couldn’t—he had to—he had to keep going, keep pushing, keep fighting—keep fighting until there was nobody left to fight. Until he could safely flee. He had to fight. He had to.
The Secretarybird tightened her grip on his arms, pushing him back down almost gently. “Calm down.” She ordered, but Dion couldn’t parse the words through the dull haze of cornered caged TRAPPED panic panic fight fight FIGHT—
The Secretarybird was an experienced fighter. Had made a name for herself decades ago, a name that persisted even now, her reputation a legend that Dion could never hope to compare to.
But Dion was always at his most brutal when he was cornered. Had made a habit out of turning the tables when the chips were down.
Panic blanked Dion’s mind. Terror and adrenaline moved his body.
Dion won.
It wasn’t pretty.
+=+=+=+=+
Dion kneeled on the floor of Creed’s office, his head spinning. Blood trickled from his nose, warm against his upper lip.
He’d been standing just seconds before. Had been standing, still unable to look the man before him in the eye—
Creed had never backhanded Dion before. He’d grip Dion’s shoulders and arms a little roughly, hook a finger under Dion’s chin to force him to meet his eyes—but he had never hit Dion.
(He had underlings for that.)
Pain erupted across Dion’s face as Creed’s shoe slammed into it, Dion sprawling further backwards. He got barely a moment to breathe before the following kick to his chest landed with just as much brutality, his ribs throbbing.
“Do you understand,” Creed began, his voice as smooth as silk, “How much your little stunt cost me?” There was a threat dripping off of every word, matching the throbbing pain in Dion’s face, the protesting of his ribs.
Dion dug his fingers into the rug and pushed himself up into a kneeling position, his gaze locked on Creed’s shoes. Terror and anxiety danced a skin-prickling duet in his stomach, his heart pounding in his chest. He waited for another kick.
Creed kneeled down, threading his fingers around and through Dion’s ponytail. “Look me in the eyes.” He demanded, yanking sharply enough to hurt. Dion yelped.
Creed’s eyes were a lot like dark soil, Dion reflected, terror keeping his gaze locked on Creed’s. The kind of soil that one saw from a coffin, dark and dreary and suffocating. The hair on the back of his neck somehow managed to stand up even straighter than it already was.
“You,” Creed’s jaw was set firm, almost clenched, “Are very lucky.” He rumbled. “I am showing you mercy by letting you live—do you understand that?”
It sounded like a promise. It sounded like a threat.
Despite the grip on his hair and the terror petrifying him, Dion nodded.
Creed stood, still holding Dion by his ponytail. Dion stood with him out of necessity rather than choice, stumbling slightly at being forced to stand on someone else’s terms. His ribs protested the movement.
Creed let go, regarding Dion disdainfully, contemptuously.
Dion felt like he was being eaten alive. Every part of him was screaming to run, to get away from this place and this man whose very gaze was tearing him to pieces—
He stood frozen in place.
“Get out of my sight.” Creed snarled.
Dion wasted no time in obeying.
+=+=+=+=+
His and Mirtala’s room was smaller, when he was finally brought back to it, fresh bruises on his face and knuckles, anxiety still pounding his guts like drums.
Mirtala stared at him with wide eyes when he entered, something like fear and something somber in them. She didn’t say anything, just sat there, nameless unicorn plushie clutched to her chest.
Dion stumbled over to his bedroll and lied down. He didn’t wrap his arms around Mirtala, didn’t match his breathing to hers until he felt like a person again. He just laid there, staring at the ceiling, his own body turned against him.
(Mirtala eventually came over and laid down next to him, pressing herself against his side.
Dion was thankful for the contact. He just wasn’t sure he deserved it.)
+=+=+=+=+
Dion was called to Tammy’s office the next day.
Part of him screamed not to go—whether from guilt or fear, Dion didn’t know. But he went anyway, partially out of guilt and partially out of respect.
Her ankle had been braced in a cast. There was a bandage on her cheek.
(There weren’t any other injuries. Dion was a competent brawler, but he wasn’t that good. The Wolves had stopped him before he could do anything more than shattering her ankle.)
Apparently, “taking it easy” wasn’t a thing in Ouroboros, because for all that she couldn’t walk, Tammy was still doing paperwork, relying on her telekinesis to open cabinets and sort through folders.
“Sit.” Her voice was even, betraying none of her underlying thoughts and feelings.
Dion wasted no time in following her orders. Guilt attacked his guts with a hand mixer, his whole chest feeling like it was on the verge of caving in.
“You’re being taken out of the regular ring.” Tammy announced, her eyes never leaving the forms in front of her. “You’ll be put back in the Death Pit after the next.”
Yeah, Dion figured.
(Hoped, when he realized just how far his and Mirtala’s room had been downgraded. Some part of him needed to make up for it, to get back in the ring and prove himself so he could fix it—)
Tammy met Dion’s gaze. Her eyes softened, in a way that Dion had never seen them do before.
“I’m sorry.” She said, “You’re just a kid.” There was a lot of meaning packed into that statement, but most of it flew right over Dion, who felt both too small and too old all at once.
(Tammy was psychic, but she wasn’t a monster.
Dion wasn’t psychic, but he was becoming a monster all the same.)
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