[Redacted]tale.

entry #2.

warning: panic attacks and breakdowns.

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         Fail jolted awake. Such a comfortable mattress, well stuffed pillow, cold room. It's like his own room. His own room? And he just woke up? Oh no. There it is. Another one. Another day. Another timeline.
"no.. no. no no no.. no! no!!.."
It is April 24th. Fail's hands took a firm grasp onto his head, fingers dug in his hair and tightly pulling it to the point of pain. His chest deflated and inflated in a rapid way where it was uneasy to exhale. A faded white rhombus trembled in his empty eye sockets. His brother will come wake him up. He will have to act it fine all over again. He will have to see his brother die again. again. again again againagainagain-
"oi. ease up, stupid."
Fail's faded iris followed the voice. He raised his head only slightly, eyesight meeting up with a hooded figure where the face was eaten by shadows.
"you're triggering a panic attack and ion' know shit about first aid. so jus'.. calm down, aight?" The hooded male spoke again. Fail stared in both panic and confusion.
"have you eaten yet?"
"..wh- what..."
"Ccino made food."
"Ccino.. wh- who's Ccino..? and who are you?.."
"your ally. you have pretty freckles, if anything."
". . ."
"it's really cold outside."
They both fell in a radio silence. The anonymous male chuckled behind his face's shadow.
"see. it aint hard." He added.
"huh..?" Fail was now just trying to process everything at the moment.
"i calmed your panic attack by asking idiotic questions for distraction. awesome, arent i?"
Fail frowned a little. He rested his palm on his chest and took various deep breaths. He eyed the other again, swallowing the pain in his throat. That pain traveled all the way, surprisingly, to his nose. Then his eyes. And he teared up.
"what.. wh- what date.. what's today's date..?" He needed to make sure.
"April-" Fail felt his body shatter for a split second. "-25th."
.......
Oh.
Tears of relief dropped down his poorly rested face. He let out a suspire he didn't know he kept in for that long, and the palm on his chest loosened the grip that caused folds on his shirt. He covered his face with his hands and kept up the same shaky pace of inhales and exhales.
"oh- dear. uh, yes, yes. it happens a lot for us to have meltdowns. dont be ashamed."
Then Fail felt a touch on his shoulder. A soft touch. One that made him feel safe, one that made him feel welcomed, like he wasn't alone, and he wasn't the only one in pain in this place, and-
"Murder."
"..excuse me...?" He muttered after his thoughts got cut.
"the name's Murder. you're Fail, correct?"
"correct..."
..
. N o nO N O T R u s.  T
T Ru s t n O - O N e. . . . .  eve ry on. e ... is dangerOUS.
....
"sick. we will be waiting for you downst—"
"wait. dont go."
. . . Murder stayed still. He lowered his head and looked at the hand that gripped onto his own as if Fail's life depended on it.
"why's that?"
"i dont want to be alone."
"you're not alone. i said we're downstairs."
"please." The grip on Murder's wrist got a bit tighter.
"Fail,"
"please!!..." Fail's voice cried. Fear and paranoia dripped from his tone. Murder sighed; he sat in front of Fail and opened his arms.
"come. it's alright. you'll handle the change." His voice meant comfort. And it worked. Fail did not miss the opportunity and jumped in Murder's arms, grabbing so tight onto him as if Murder had saved him from falling off a tall, tall edge.
"i-it feels so.. painful!!.." Fail ranted while burying his face on Murder's shoulder.
"what does?" Murder replied, rubbing circles on the other's back.
"everything..! everything about this feels wrong..!! i feel.. i feel so—"
"dont follow feelings." The hooded male interrupted. Much to Fail's surprise, he stopped talking too.
"feelings are a distraction." He added, which made Fail even more concerned on what he'll say next.
"feelings are a reaction... just a reaction to a previous and perceived wound that has never been healed. you can control feelings. they're all just choices, really."
Fail tiredly exhaled and frowned sadly, squeezing his eyes shut as the migraine hit. His head hurts. It hurts so much. He needs his pills. It's like someone is repeatedly stabbing his forehead or smashing his face on the wall. And did he feel extremely ungrateful and needy if he asked for the pills. He leans away from the hug, two tears descended slowly from the corners of his eyes to the corners of his mouth. He stuttered: "am i safe here..?"
Murder seemed unbothered by the question.
"you aint be havin' too much to do other than obey the superior, really."
"well.. Nightmare said—"
"boss." Murder interrupted again. "it's boss, Fail. dont call him by his name."
Such a strict rule, but he can live with it.
"right, then.. boss said that i sh—"
God damn did he just get interrupted again by an individual walking in. Murder stood up, and Fail felt the need to do so, too. He stumbled with nothing, yet held himself back up and grabbed onto the side of his head with his left hand.
"Training has started seventeen minutes ago. Are you two willing to take more time?"
A deep, relaxed, yet rigid voice spoke.
"ye no, we're sorry, boss. the lil' guy here was not taking his arrival so well. had to help."
Fail nodded in confirmation.
"Then start moving. The 'lil guy' needs to take basics too, dont distract him."
"sure." Then it fell silent. Murder led Fail to training, which was hosted by Killer, since he had suggested it, then Nightmare walked back to his office.