Blue Looks Better on Flowers- Schlatt x Quackity

18~I Didn't Mean To

howdy, I cried while making this, enjoy. If y'all are soft-hearted- go straight to the summary lol.

CW/TW: Blood, Injury, Gore, Angst

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I slowly blink my eyes, a noise alerting me. The noise is a distant mumble, a small cry of sorts. I notice the sunlight leaking through the cracks of the closet, gleaming into my sensitive eyes. I begin to feel a sharp pain, all at once into my leg. Fuck. My attention soon goes to the glistening crimson of my bloodied leg, the sight making me feel queasy. I tried not to squirm too much as I trailed my shaky fingers across my wounded leg. Fuck. Fuck.

"Alex!" I hear someone yell out my name. It sounded like Schlatt was... upset. Not an angry upset, no, a sad upset. A devastating upset. I attempt to open my mouth to speak before a pain goes to my bruised neck, allowing a small noise to come out.

I try to move, the pain moving throughout everywhere hurting too much to do so. I felt dizzy. I felt sick. I felt as if no one cared. I slowly closed my eyes again, the blinding light hurting my head.

I hear faint footsteps nearing the room I was hidden in. Instead of fear, I felt... nothing. I should have been afraid, sad, angry, happy. I just felt nothing. My body was pumping so much adrenaline I couldn't tell what was real and what was my imagination.

The door opens quickly, but lightly, the rest of the sunlight pouring onto my body, me curled in the corner with my hands holding my damaged knees. I just watched weakly, my eyes filling with tears. I finally figured out what emotion I had. I was afraid. The tears began to stream down my face as I hit the wall from backing away from him. He watched in complete betrayal. Betrayal of himself mostly.

He comes towards me, I begin hyperventilating. He slowly wraps his arms around me, picking me up rather easily. There wasn't much I could do. I couldn't talk, I couldn't kick at him, and I sure couldn't punch. So instead, I just gave in. I curled closer in his hold, sobbing quiet sobs as my throat was still in pain from the fight. I hung onto him, my leg becoming limp from the pain. The pain was terrible.

"Help.."

That was the only word I could barely squeak out, from the sobbing to my damaged throat, it was terrible. Schlatt acknowledged the cry for help, taking me towards the bathroom, his distressed expression soothing to more calm and loving. His hold on me was gentle.

"Darling, can you speak?" He sets me down in the bathtub, the blood slowly dripping onto the white shower. I slowly shake my head in response to his question, opening my mouth to attempt.

"Fuck." I barely say, my voice practically being gone. I glance up at the man, a feeling of complete agony shaking my voice and body.

"You stabbed me." I speak quietly, "Yo confie en ti."

"I'm so sorry Mi amor, I'm so so sorry." Schlatt hugs me, my body shivering at the contact. "I'm sorry."

He backs away from the hug, finding a washcloth from the cabinet, handing it to me. "Hold this." He tells me calmly, turning on the facet to a medium warm temperature, a bit above the perfect warm temperature. I sit silently, holding onto the cloth, squeezing it occasionally as I was a bit stressed. The water filled to my legs, covering the damaged one. I couldn't tell if it felt nice or painful. It was a weird mixture of the two. I couldn't tell if it was good or not.

Schlatt takes the washcloth out of my hand, dipping it in the warm water. I watch, wondering what he was doing. He takes the washcloth and slowly brings it up to my face, washing the dried blood off of my tender red face. I wince a bit, trying not to move so it wouldn't hurt more. I let out a quiet groan in pain as he scrubs at it.