Brothers Always Stick Together. || an Inanimate Insanity darkfic

Déjà vu.

Yin was troubled, to say the very least. 

Witnessing the fight between Paintbrush and Lightbulb was just heart-breaking for him, not to mention the fact he had been so excited to show that he was alive. And to hear that they might be breaking up, it was even more of a weight on his chest. He didn't want to trouble them both with his feelings right after they'd been ripped apart already. He really didn't want anything bad to come out of his words when he did tell the two. If anything, he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell them at all. Well, at least, not after what he had watched. He didn't want to add another burden onto their shoulders.

He tossed and turned on his bed, grumbling softly to himself. Going back home was a waste of time. Or, at least he felt like it was. Escaping excruciating agonizing torture just to come back home and experience even more of it just didn't feel all too worth it to him. Or maybe he was just being overdramatic about all of this. His stomach churned and twisted around out of disgust and repulse at the mere thought of what he'd seen, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He was okay, Lightbulb was okay, and Paintbrush was okay. They were all going to be okay.

Yin sighed. 

He was home. Home was supposed to feel relieving and peaceful, at the very least he should feel at least something positive about this. Though, he did feel relief, that much was obvious. The agonizing pain of the open, infected wounds all along the side of his body were finally gone, finally closed and sutured properly by an actual professional. He'd made it out alive, and found someone who was willing to provide comfort, a living coping mechanism just for him, someone he could love. But at what cost?

His brother died to save his life. His own brother, the same brother who rarely showed sympathy for him or others, the same brother who was quite literally always there for everything he had went through, he was dead, just like that. It was funny, almost. Yang would always make jokes about how he'd wished he was dead around him and others, talking about how it would spare him the burden of having to talk to all of the other contestants. He never actually meant it, though. At least he thought Yang didn't. He doubted Yang had bad mental health, his self esteem and confidence made up for anytime he was down. 

No one knew where Mephone had went, either. It was like he had just disappeared. Well, certainly not. The police investigating the crime scene had seen a lot more than just "disappeared". In fact, the police had reported a puddle of oil in the phone's garage, which became a trail leading up to the front door, where the trail continued to lead the officers all the way into the forest, before stopping at a contaminated lake. They searched the lake, but the only thing they could find that was evident to Mephone's appearance was the gallons worth of oil doused in the water. If there was a body, it was nowhere to be found.

That terrified him. If Yang really was dead, and there was no possible way to revive him, what would he do now? He was always by Yang, in literal terms, the two were born as each other, meant to be together, never to be split apart. If Yang was supposed to balance him out, what would he do? He didn't have the confidence and bravery that Yang did. Yang was the only reason they even got close to winning in the first place. Hell, without Yang, he didn't think they would have even participated in the competition at all.

He sat up and stared down at his lap. He had no possible way of dealing with these feelings right now. Everything felt so hopeless now that it was all over. 

Yin perked up suddenly, looking around the dark room. After what had happened, his vision had deteriorated terribly, especially considering the horrible way his eyelid had been stretched out and fooled with by the weird chemicals Cobs had poured onto them both. Though, despite the inconvenience, his other eye could see just fine. 

Yin jumped up from his bed, looking around the pitch black room, his right eye closed so that his good eye could do the work for him, as he looked around the room for that one specific childhood plush he had always kept by his side. He eventually ended up opening one of the boxes that Yang had lazily thrown around on the floor, carefully digging through the bubble wrap and Styrofoam, a soft, smile overcoming his face as he finally found him. He picked up the teddy bear gingerly from the waist, staring down at it and hugging it close to him tightly, a rush of nostalgia seeping through his veins.