Candy | MouthWashing Game Curly X OC

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘰𝘥

I listened to Curly's soft spoken words. His sins?

What did that even mean? He looked at the sky and tilted his head slightly, as if he was just thinking on how things were, but seemed pretty bothered. I didn't want to push it, I didn't want to cause him a breakdown.

"J...Jimmy," he said. I looked at him. Jimmy was the one with a self inflicted gun wound. "I tried to help Jjj...Jimmy," he continued, "by offer-ring a job at the P-o-ony express." Curly cleared his throat and pursed his lips a few times. Stuttering was still an issue as recovery continued, but it wouldn't be long before he had his regular pattern back.
"He was down on his luck. Haaard... time here on earth. Helped by getting him r-recruited," he added, "but I let m-my heart get in the woo-w-way of my judgement."

I stayed silent for a moment and looked down at the grass. I didn't quite know what to make of that, but I also didn't really understand what he was meaning. Lucky for me, he kept with his story.
"Anya."

I tilted my head and slowly looked at him.
"Failed her. Failed my team. I let someone danger-dangerous on board," then he added in almost a whisper, "and defended him."

"Defended him from...?" I gently encouraged.
Curly swallowed hard, like he was swallowing a lump in his throat. He turned and looked at me with a pained expression in his icy eye.

"Ever-everything," he looked down at his leg, raising it slightly. It was amputated shorter because there was proof of a butchered job on it. I never asked.
"He did things," Curly whispered, "I should have done something. And the pod... oh Lo-Lord, the pod was so cold. Bu-r-rned. Then he shot himself."
I felt my stomach flip, like it was growing cold itself. Jimmy put him in the pod then shot himself?

"Why would he do that?" I asked.

"I wasn't... present for every death. But ever-r-ry death, injur-oo-injury, was a r...result of Jimmy," he sniffed. I looked at him. His eye was glistening. His tear ducts were indeed damaged but still produced tears because of the surface of his eyeball. The skin graph surgery would help for it to become normal again, but again... things take time.

"You have to tell someone," I said, feeling almost panicked, "especially the cops."
Curly let out a soft groan and leaned back further in his wheelchair.
I watched Tina walk outside with another resident and set them up outside with tea and a snack on a table.

"I guess."

"You're gonna get compensated-"

"Money won't help what I did!" Curly huffed. I looked away, nibbling my bottom lip. It didn't hurt my feelings, although it felt more personal than it should, but it made me feel sad for him. Nobody can help a person forgive themselves but that person. He would only believe I'm trying to make him feel better, when it's true it wasn't all his fault.

"What did you defend Jimmy against?"

Curly glanced at me, "you'd hate me."
I furrowed my eyebrows. Curly looked at me again but held my stare. "You'd hate me."
He repeated but with a more serious tone. I shrugged with confusion and held my hand out, palm up, and said, "you don't know what I'd hate you for. I've heard many stories of people making mistakes."

"I couldn't bear it if you hated me."

I looked away at that and let my hair fall slightly in my face. My cheeks had burned a bit at that comment when that didn't make any sense, but simply embarrassed me.
"I wouldn't hate you. Ever. I'm not asking this to trap you in a confession," I kept my gaze away until the blood drained from my cheeks. I looked back at him. His eye narrowed slightly and I could see him studying me. His personality was becoming more apparent and it felt more personal talking with him.

"Jimmy cr-roo... crossed boundaries with Anya. She couldn't... continue. Pills. Daisuke had accident, no medications left to help him," he explained, "Swa.. Jimmy took... him out."
He looked away. It seemed there was something else that happened but he couldn't talk more about it. I pursed my lips and waited. That was all he wanted to say.
I reached out and gently laid my hand on his bandaged arm. Curly looked at my touch.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, "it wasn't your fault."
He nodded slowly, like he was thinking on my words.

"I got what I deserved. Disfigured," Curly motioned to himself with his other arm.
I curled my lip slightly.

"You don't look disfigured. Just healing. And you're not bad to look at," I shook my head. He thinks he's some crispy bacon, when he's a healing man.

This time it was Curly's turn to look away out of embarrassment and it was then I realized how my words sounded.
"You're healing and you went through a lot," I reworded it to lessen his blushing action, "and you went through something that most people don't survive from. Give yourself some grace."

Curly looked back at me with a content expression and nodded.
It must've felt amazing to get that off his chest.