Aphmau One-Shots

and it wasn't so (Garroth)

*MCD Garroth, dying during his fight with Zane at the end of season one, switches places with MyStreet Garroth; angst ensues

Maybe Zane trains harder, maybe Garroth falters.

For whatever reason, a sword is shoved through Garroth's abdomen.

Garroth dies, blood and guts spilling out of his stomach.

The last thing he sees is his brother's face. Cruel and leering. Then it all goes dark.

Garroth dies in Irene's dimension.

He doesn't.

///

He wakes up, a scream lodged in his throat.

He bites down on his lips, keeping the screams locked away.

He counts back in his head, focusing on his surroundings. The unfamiliarity snaps him out of his panic. Creeping cold biting at his skin. Terror.

He places a hand over his stomach.

Were they able to get him out?

This is not a room he recognizes, but perhaps longer has passed outside of the realm that inside.

Garroth swings his legs over the edge of his bed, placing his faith in limbs that helped him escape.

Led to his death.

"Garroth!" the voice is sharp, there's annoyance laced with the words. Garroth resists the urge to flinch.

He turns around, meeting his brother's face.

A sword lodged into his stomach. The obsidian teeth of a metal priest. He deserves the fate that befalls him - the path of a traitor is lonely.

He takes a step back.

He is weaponless.

And his brother is merciless.

"Garroth?" Zane's tone is mockingly worried, Garroth's heart seems to beat rapidly in his chest. He wonders if his stomach wound will rip if he decides to sprint. Distantly he notices that the wound is nowhere to be seen.

His skin and body - all feel softer.

Wrong.

"What have you done to me?" his voice, it's unfamiliar, grating to his ears. 

Less like the voice his father forced him to perfect - soothing on the ears like honey. Easier to coerce those around him to do his bidding if he sounded nice.

He takes a step back, falling against the wall.

Zane is dressed in a ridiculous pink shirt, faded pajama pants. From around the corner, Laurence steps out - yawning.

"What's with all of the ruckus?"

They're acting so normally.

'Shadow Knights,' his mind supplies - almost tired.

How could he forget?

The familiar sting of betrayal, it laughs in his ears. Ever cruel, ever tired.

He grins.

"How could you?" he asks, as one does when betrayed, when there's nothing left to say. His voice sounding more and more like the voice that he was before. But he shakes his head, blond curls flopping into his eyes.

Swords cutting into soft flesh, yet to go through puberty. 

'How can one rule with such a grating voice?'