Hyde and Seek

Chapter Sixxxteen

Days, then weeks fly by in a blur.

You're constantly on the run, feeling like you're tracking down a long list of things to do that you've been putting off. You're confused whenever you can smother the other side of yourself, but it doesn't last long enough to do anything substantial. You're at the mercy of your hyde and there's little you can do about it.

You're trapped inside yourself, sometimes forced to watch what they do, but most of the time, you're in the dark, made to just swim in your own guilt and regret.

You can feel its frustration – it's looking for something and getting tired of turning up with nothing. You can't figure out what it is, even with rifling through its – your – mind, but you know it's not a person, it's something of value and it wants it so bad, it's willing to kill whoever stands in the way. Even if it's like they're only kind of in the way. Like, if they don't talk fast enough? It has no patience. Like, if it had virtues, patience wouldn't be on the docket. Nonexistent stuff.

Deep down, you know it must be something you want as well, but you can't decipher it. You've wanted such surface level things like a life all your own where you could be at peace with someone to love, not something you could hold in your hands that clearly held some type of power. There's got to be a twisted Endgame™ to all this.

The confusion continues to cloud your mind though and it's hard to see through it most days.

Sometimes, on occasion, it talks to you, but you've stopped fighting entirely. You've given in and you stay silent – you can't trust your own mind and you've been beaten and tricked one too many times. You lost the game and it's time to pack it up, pick up what's left of your pride, walk away and do your best to see another day where the sun shines on your face. There's a spark of hope in your heart, but it's not being stoked to a full flame any time soon and the light at the end of the tunnel has vanished. You don't hold the wheel anymore, you're hardly even in the vehicle.

"Lady Y/n."

"Thunder thighs."

You can't help but to internally perk up at that, the spark of hope burning a bit brighter, but then you're fighting him instead and you sort of just...deflate. Wait to be killed by the mighty god himself or whatever. Because there's no way in hell, even after everything you've done, that you'd actually be able to kill Thor Odinson. Come on, don't be naïve and heartless, little mice person.

"Loki, I believe it's time to step in now," His voice is strained, and you cringe, knowing you're hurting him somehow, but then, "Brother! Hurry up!"

Then there's a bolt of pain shooting through your body, your whole side burning with pain – you fell from the sky, apparently – and your head is pounding fiercely like your heart and brain switched spots. You cry out as you feel like your entire being is set on fire and then it's suddenly silent. It's so quiet you feel like you could hear a butterfly flap its wings from a mile away. It feels empty, so empty, and for the first time, you're scared shitless of what this means.

Oh, you've probably died.

Slay.

'Hello?' You call out uselessly, half expecting Lucifer to show her face – yes, you're picturing yourself in that one fic. She was cool in the first one, we can't pretend otherwise.

'Why, hello there.'

You feel yourself frown, '...General Kenobi...?'

'Don't be daft. Now hold still, this part tends to be painful.'

Before you can ask what this stranger digging around in your dome nugget could possibly mean, a white, searing hot pain strikes you and it feels like getting shot in the head might feel like if anyone lived to tell the tale. But it feels like that hot metal of a bullet is resting in there, maybe shifting underneath your skull and it's a pain you've never experienced before. That hypothetical bullet in your skull is getting comfy. Making itself right at home, kicking its feet up and everything.