Character Selected: Baseball
I got to make a choice on who to talk to this time. A choice that wasn't brought on by in the moment mumbo-jumbo. The issue I faced, was that I didn't know where this individual had gone to. I hadn't seen him yet today...
I thought to check his room, but as I put my hand on the doorknob, someone walked past me, saying a quick "he's in the medical thing." I turned to look and see who it was, but they'd already gone. It didn't sound like Fan, though.
I went upstairs to the nurse's station, and opened up the door to see Baseball lying in the bed there, his eyes almost gray and lifeless as he stared at the ceiling. I knocked a few times to reiterate my presence, but he didn't move a muscle.
"Baseball?" I kept my voice low, and spoke slower than usual to make him a little less overwhelmed. As soon as I closed the door behind me, his head turned over to me, gesturing to his stomach. It still was completely wrapped with bandages, but they looked newer and clean. His voice was hoarse as he mumbled to me.
"I thought I wanted to live."
"B-Baseball- don't say that." I took a quick look around the room and found a chair; I pulled it toward the bed so I could sit next to him. "You do want to live. You deserve to live."
"I let him die." I could feel my skin getting cold and tingly each time he spoke in the same monotone dialect. He still didn't move much, only once to turn back toward the ceiling. "I watched him die. I heard his screams, I heard Balloon telling me... if I had just..." He trailed off. I reached over, pulling a couple tufts of hair away from his face.
"Just what? You can tell me." All the anger, anxiety, and tension from earlier this morning fell away from me as I tried to keep Baseball talking. The thought of him shutting down, not getting that chance to let out what horrors he'd been keeping...
He thankfully began to talk again. "If I had just been a better friend to him. I wrote Balloon a letter- telling him to meet me in the meeting room that night. When he showed up, I tried to tell him that I was sorry for how I'd treated him. I was sorry for how I let Nickel treat him. I was supposed to be a team captain, but I led my team to nothing but disaster."
"...Why did he try to kill you over that?"
"The motive." His lip began to quiver, and a long, trembling sigh escaped him. "He heard voices, wishing he were dead. They mocked him, belittled him, and I had no idea just how unstable he'd become. He said I was the one speaking, he started to argue with me... then... he began to scream for me to shut up. He got louder and louder, until he got the knife he'd tucked into his belt..."
"And he stabbed you?"
"He must've thought I brought him there to kill him." His voice softened, the last few words crackling into small squeaks as his eyes turned glassy, and a few stray tears dribbled onto the pillow beneath him. My stomach grew uneasy at the sight of him crying yet again, but I didn't want to touch him either. I hated having open ended ways to respond to other people- that sort of thing always caught me off guard and made me think harder than I needed to- but I found something to say eventually.
"The more you blame yourself, the harder the grief will become. I told Knife the same thing-"
"God! Of course- he was trying to mentally heal, and I let him waste away!" I had almost reached over toward him, but flinched when he began to sob, and he turned his body away from me. His body had curled up into an almost fetal position as he covered his face with his hands, mumbling more about Knife.
"That's not- Baseball, do you REALLY think Knife wants you to be laying here, crying over him and Balloon? You have so many things to do yet! I- I saw you save Trophy's life the other day, remember? Does that not matter to you at all?"
"I didn't do shit!" His tone suddenly had turned to a violent shout, though he still choked back loud, ugly sobs and hiccups between his words. "Test Tube said that nothing I do is gonna fix anything- who the hell cares about what I did for Trophy?! He's strong- he could've done it by himself!"
I took a second to wait for him to finish getting all his frustration out, and to take a breath. I didn't want to lash out again, and being yelled at only made me eager to yell back. I said nothing, but once Baseball had turned back to me, his teeth grit together, and he looked just about ready to rip me to shreds, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a blip of my own glare from this morning. I helped him sit up, not even thinking as I made sure he looked right at me the entire time I talked.
"Listen to me, Baseball. I've given up. This whole 'we can move on just fine' mindset... I can't say that anymore- I can't keep lying! This sucks. All of this is terrible, and I don't know what to do. But- I can't sit here and watch you suffer either. I want you to be happy- I want you to fully know this wasn't your fault." I felt warmth on my own face, and my vision grew blurry as I squinted to see his face as clearly as I could. "None of this was your fault- and I know you're gonna keep saying that... but- if you... if you hurt yourself..." I trailed off, letting go of him entirely as I struggled to contain the fear spilling out of me. "I want you to feel like you matter. I'm here for you. I'll always be here- just text me and- and I'll be right there. Please- please don't let the guilt ruin what you have."
His eyes were wide as he looked back at me, and he began to fumble on his words as well. I had closed my eyes to keep my emotions held back, but I felt his hand on my cheek as his thumb wiped off my tears. "I'm... I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be sorry. I'm just overwhelmed. I don't know what I'm doing- and I feel like they need me. Why would they need me?" Baseball pulled me in, holding me in a warm embrace as he had a stiff laugh.
"Well- you know what to do if people get stabbed, right?" I didn't laugh, and he stayed quiet. The silence always made me uncomfortable around here, but for once, it felt as comforting as the hug did. I wasn't supposed to be the one being held like this... I made it all about me, but I knew I needed it. Maybe in some weird way- Baseball needed someone else to console after Microphone.
Maybe this was his best way to thank me for the other day, though I hardly helped him before Fan came in. Did I really deserve the credit for saving his life?
Baseball's hug loosened up, and when I moved back, I'd realized my tears stopped, and he looked off to the side. "Could you visit me later today? Before I go to bed or something, maybe? I heard there's a party, but I'm not 'strong enough' to go."
I raised a brow. "I don't even know if I'm gonna stay at the party very long myself. I'll definitely come see you tonight, just to check in and bring you something to eat, ok?"
"Yeah. Uhm- are you gonna leave soon?"
"Do you want me to stay?"
"...I think I need time to myself, just to think and sulk, but- I'm sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn't be taking my own problems out on others."
"I had the same thing happen with me like- thirty minutes ago. I'm just glad that you're not as upset anymore. Do you need someone to stay with you, just in case you end up feeling unsafe with yourself?"
"...I'll be fine." He pulled the blanket up a little bit to cover up his chest, and he laid back down with a soft groan. "Maybe instead of sulking, I'll nap. That usually fixes things for a while."
"Isn't that against the rules...?"
"Fan told me I'm allowed, since nobody's gonna let me go to my room. It's cool."
That didn't reassure me in the slightest, but I nodded anyway and waited for him to fall asleep before I left. He turned away from me, but after a couple minutes of waiting, my foot tapping on the floor rapidly, I heard him take a deep breath, or more of a snore, and I knew he was out.
I didn't know if leaving him would end up badly, but I didn't want to linger and watch him sleep. That's weird. So I got up to go to my room. Maybe a nap would help me, too.
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Despair's Insanity - an II x DR fic
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