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If I leave, somebody else will love you

Summary:

"You actually showed up."

 

"Can't say no to a friend can I?"

 

A couple days after Fluixons death Saparata finds himself indulging in a coping mechanism he swore he wouldn't use again.

But what does it matter if the person he stopped for is dead?

Unluckily for him a familiar face decided to stop by.

And.. is he holding a box of cookies?

Notes:

Very heavy SH! Please know your trigger and read at your own risk.

I like projecting onto my favourite characters, I'm simply coping

Wrote this while listening to "If I leave," by mitski, prolly my favourite song in her new album

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

"You actually showed up."

 

"Can't say no to a friend can I?"

 

────୨ৎ────

 

It had been weeks after the encounter, that wretched day. The day people proclaimed Saps as a hero, rather then the villain. But Saps? He himself could not see anything but what he is, a murderer. The image, the blood on his hands, the body turned limp laying in front of him. Beautiful, purple eyes once filled with life, losing that glint it once held. It never left his mind.

 

He had spent hours after the fight, simply washing his hands raw. Scrubbing the blood till after it was long gone, replacing it with new blood, his own. He could still see it whenever he closed his eyes. He had to be physically dragged away from the sink for him to stop. Still he could never deem his hands clean. Not once, probably not ever.

 

He was a murderer. Not a hero, his bestfriend, the person he had known since before he even knew what murder was. Dead, gone, buried, due to his own hands.

 

So here he sat, in this house. Empty, cold, lonely, the one the duo had once built together, the one that had been turned into a death trap. He couldn't call it home, a house sure, but this house was not his home, it only ever felt like home when Fluixon was here not really. Not after he spent all those days running from it. Nonetheless, he found himself sat curled into a corner beside his bed, hyperventilating, eyes blurry, face wet from the tears that dared fall from his own eyes, hands clamped around a small piece of metal. Thats how most days played out since the fight. 

 

He knew he shouldn't, he had once promised Fluixon  he'd never touch it again. But he was gone, and deep down he knew it was what he deserved. He once promised to protect that man, stand by him. Now what? He did neither, he was gone and it was Saparata's fault, and his fault only.

 

He slowly untucked his knees, still hyperventilating, still crying, he doesn't even know if his sobs brought any tears anymore. God he must look stupid. He felt stupid, he was crying over the same man that got hundreds of people to attack him, hate his guts, uproot his entire life for days. But oh how it hurt, how he missed him. His face, his laugh, his stupid fucking voice. He missed it all, every part of a man who seemingly wouldn't of missed him.

 

Still, he took his jumper off, holding out his arm. His arm was a horrible sight, one Fluixon had convinced him wasn't . It was littered with scars, some white and fading, others a raised purple. Some left unhealed, scabbed over from the past week. Truthfully he never had wanted to go back to this habit, not when Fluixon  found out, he had convinced him it wasn't worth it. Now he wasn't sure what was worth it and what wasn't.

 

────୨ৎ────

 

It was years before the events of the war had unfolded. The duo was about 14, dealing with petty high school dramas and family issues. It had all just become to much.

 

So Saparata decided to open up his skin for the first time. The adrenaline was amazing, the pain in his chest lifting, and waves of pain shot through his arms, it blurred the heavy thoughts he carried. He thought it could just be his little secret. Of course it didn't remain a secret for long. His dear friend Fluixon  could tell something was up. Could see it in the way Saparata flinched whenever he grabbed his arm, or never went swimming anymore, a thing the boy had grown to love, or never wore short sleeves, he could go on about how his best friend wasn't acting the same. Little things, most people wouldn't notice, brush off. But not Fluixon  he always noticed, could always tell. He knew the man better then he knew himself.

 

"Saparata," The boy had said, his voice was serious, though he always held a serious tone. Either way Saps knew it wasn't a good thing, simply by the way the man said his name, his voice was off, like something was stuck in his throat. Plus the other never used his full name, opting for the nickname he affectionately gave him, 'Saps'.

 

"Oooo been full named, how much trouble am I in?" Saparata had joked, poking fun at Fluixon. Though deep down he had this sinking feeling in his gut. 

 

Fluixon  decided to ignore the worry Saparata held in his tone, knowing it was somewhat justified. Taking a deep breath he choose the next words carefully, "I- this is going to sound, strange, but I just- I need to know," Fluixon  had started, the normally much more confident boy who spoke with pride and assurance, stumbling over his words. It was never a good sign.

 

Saparatas playful smile waivered, an uneasy feeling growing in his stomach "Are you okay? What's up man," The boy had began to fidget with his hands, suddenly unsure what to do with them.

 

"Can you," The elder of the two cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly from where he stood, "Can you, lift your sleeve?" The boy offered, it felt easier then outright asking. Although it still felt, intruding to say the least. 

 

The panic spread quickly on the boys face, "What, no why?" He said quickly, backing up and rubbing at the back of his neck. He was trying to play it off, act cool. Hoping he'll drop it.

 

Saparata knew Fluixon  all to well to assume he would simply 'drop it' though. "I just need to know, have you been, hurting yourself, Saparata?" 

 

Again, with the full name.

 

Saps froze his mouth opening and shutting a couple of times, suddenly at a loss for words. No one was ever meant to know, especially not Fluixon, he held that man to high in his head for him to know. Still instead of, denying, coming up with an excuse he simply fell onto the boy. Sobs escaping him before he even knew they were coming. He remembers how Fluixon melted into the hug, holding the trembling boy, muttering things, comforting things like "It'll be okay, we can do this together," while stroking the boys snow white hair.

 

After that day Saps had vowed to try and get better, to stop. If not for himself then for Fluixon. Though there was obvious hiccups, he always had a familiar face to pick him back up.

 

────୨ৎ────

 

That was until his entire world began to fall and crack beneath him, until that face was no longer here to pick him up. So he dragged the blade across his arm, a familiar feeling filled his chest. A warmth, a comfort kicking in, it felt nice. He watched as the beads of blood formed, waiting a moment before dragging it along his skin again. He continued this process for Ish knows how long, time seemed to slow as he watched the beads of blood formed into dark rivers flowing down his pale skin. 

 

After awhile he came to his senses, gasping at the crimson leaking from his skin. Throwing the blade across the room. He didn't know where it ended up, knowing he would spend hours searching for the metal piece later on. He stood up, slinking out of his bedroom to go find his first-aid kit. Part of him was tempted to go sit in the bloodstained corner, wait till the blood loss itself took him but he pushed down that urge.

 

He had found his first aid-kit sitting in one of his kitchen drawers, the drawer having been left opened, Saparata must've forgotten to shut it properly. The contents of the kit quite honestly looked like someone picked it up, flipped it upside down and then placed the kit itself neatly on top of the contents. Saps internally cursed himself for this. He rummaged through the draw, messily chucking a roll of bandage dressing onto the bench in front of him.

 

He told himself he'd clean it later, but he never did.

 

By the time he had finished sloppily cleaning himself up, just barely enough to keep him from bleeding all over his furniture (not like he spent much time anywhere other then his bedroom floor anyways), heavy footsteps could be heard making their way up his stairs. Saparata knew exactly who it was just by the way the man walked, a habit he'd gathered during his days on the run. Saps knew he didn't have enough time to go chuck on his jumper, all he could do was tuck his injured arm behind his back and pray the other didn't notice.

 

"Well hello Saparata!" The voice boomed, finally Schpood had come into view, holding a box of.. cookies? Why did he have cookies?

 

This wasn't the first of the Westhelm rulers visits, after that.. day. He made it a weekly occurrence, actually a multiple time a week occurrence. Saps knew it was all in good faith but he couldn't help but feel like he had been put on suicide watch. After awhile the genuineness of it all died down. Though the Westhelm leader had never seemed to come at such a bad time before, never unknowingly stumbled upon this side of Saparata before.

 

"Ever heard of calling first?" Sap's deadpanned, it was painfully obvious the state the man had been in before, he had been crying. His eyes were puffy, he was sniffing like mad and his voice held that groggy, shaking tone it does after one finishes crying. His white hair, which was normally well maintained, soft, cut evenly, brushed out into one small plait, was an uneven greasy mess, it was heavily matted, probably from the tugging Saps had done at it moments before when he found himself tucked into the corner.

 

Schpood decided to ignore the fact this was a horrible time, planting himself on the couch, patting the seat next to him aggressively with his hand, a gesture for Saps to join him, "Ah what's the fun in that? I stopped by PinkWinx's bakery, she had cookies!" Schpood exclaimed as he was actively shoving a cookie into his mouth.

 

"Yeah well its kind of a bad time," Saps frowned, his voice more aggressive then he would have liked it to be. This was one of the people who had saved him while he was on the run after all.

 

"Its never a good time with you, c'mon I found this knew show and I need someone to binge it with," The man was already downing his second cookie, "Plus I can't eat all these by myself," He picked up the box of cookies, offering them to Saparata. His eyes then flashed curiously to the arm the man had been hiding, then to the first-aid kit sat sprawled out on the bench. He raised an eyebrow, dropping the cookie box on the empty seat beside him, "What're you hiding you're arm for?" He asked, his confusion was obvious on his face. He tilted his head much like a dog would.

 

Schpood didn't think Saps could get any paler, but here he is. Turning whiter then a ghost at the mention of his arm. "It's nothing, just get out," He said, voice stiff, like he wanted to yell but couldn't manage it. He hated being angry at this man, hated hearing himself yell more then he did other people. He simply pointed to the exit with this good arm. Schpood finished eating what seemed to be his third cookie. A couple heartbeats of silence drifted past.

 

"Schpood please," The man's pleading voice broke the silence. Desperate, raw, Schpood was convinced tears would've fallen if he hadn't cried them all already.

 

Of course Schpood was stubborn he wouldn't leave. It reminded him of the time Fluixon. He stood, moving towards Saps with careful steps, cautious to not step to close "Saparata, mate, I'm only here to help you, so please. Let me help," His voice was gentle, the once loud, somewhat obnoxious Westhelm leader Saps had befriended, was now so calm, so quiet, he honestly seemed scared of what the man was hiding.

 

Saparata sighed, admitting his defeat, he removed his bandaged arm from beside his back. He couldn't help but flinch as Schpoods face went through a mixture of emotions, before it finally set on pure concern, etching itself into his features. "Its nothing, I was tripped and scraped it coming up the stairs," He lied, it probably wasn't a very convincing lie, but the man had been put on the spot, what else was he to do?

 

Before he knew it Schpood was at his side, probably already justifying the lie in his head, he grabbed gently at the others arm, "Dude you bandaged this so shit, let me fix it," For the most part Schpood had seemed to believe the lie. What else was he meant to assume?  The tension seemed to ease, ever so slightly.

 

Before Saps could even get the chance to process what he said, the bandages were undone, and Schpood was look to him with shock, disappointment, anger, confusion? He couldn't put his finger on it. But he knew he didn't like how looked at him. The tension was back in an instant.

 

"Saps-" The man had begun.

 

"No," Saps spat, promptly cutting him off, "No, no you don't get to look at me like that," He said, his voice shaking, his ripped his arm out of the mans grasp, backing away from him. He found himself bumping into a counter he had forgotten was place so close.

 

Schpood just stood there, dumbfounded by the man yelling, crying, pleading. He didn't know what kind of emotion this was, what kind of hurt the boy was finally showing. "I- "

 

"No you don't get to say anything, you don't know what its like Schpood, how it feels to be betrayed by the man you once loved more then yourself. You don't get to look at me like, like-" He couldn't quite place what the words he was trying to spit out were, voice cracking even more with everything he spoke. "Like you know anything about my situation," He settled on, he sounded so broken, so small. He felt the both. All that anger and emotion he had let build up, bubbling to the surface in an ugly fashion.

 

"You're right, I don't," Schpood said quickly, in fear the other might cut him off again. "But I know this isn't, well it isn't healthy, its not good for you," He gestured at the mans arm.

 

"Who cares!?" He yelled, "The only man that I truly, and I mean truly cared about is gone, so what's the point, why get better if the only man I wanted to get better for is gone, dead?"

 

"Saps, I care! Cass cares, Micro cares, fucking A4horse cares! I'm sure as hell Jophiel would want you to care more then this," Schpood matched the others tone, leading Saps to recoil, wincing at the mention of his since deceased sibling. Schpood took a deep breath, taking a moment to regulate before he spoke his next words. They where nearly whispered, a gentle voice, it somewhat grounded Saps, "The same man you're putting on a pedestal is the same one who framed you, left you for dead, made hundreds of people hate you," He said, maybe he should've left those unsaid, seeing the man shatter as he spoke.

 

"But I loved him Schpood!" He coughed out, his legs gave way, collapsing to the ground, he was shaking so bad at this point, he did nothing more then curl in on himself head dug into his knees, cutting himself off from the harsh reality. He would've been sobbing if it hadn't been for the fact he had no tears left to cry, at this point he was just dry heaving. He felt oh so weak.

 

After a couple moments he felt a presence sit beside him. Not daring to touch him, not even saying a word for a couple of heartbeats. They just sat there, and existed while Saparata regulated his breathing.

 

"Look, we don't have to keep talking about him but just, we don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to just, let me properly fix you up yeah?" He asked, breaking the silence once he deemed Saparata coherent enough to talk to. He waited anxiously for the others response.

 

Saps lifted his head, looking to Schpood with sad, puffy eyes. He merely nodded. 

 

Schpood jumped up at that. Reaching his hand out for the other. Saps took it thankfully, making his way to a bench stool. The first aid kit had still been sprawled out from when Saparata had messily fixed himself up the first time.

 

The duo sat in slightly uncomfortable silence as Schpood cleaned him up. Saps refused to make eye contact, wincings at every touch Schpood made to his wounds. He also had  refused to keep his gaze on his arm either. He ended up looking to the floor sheepishly. It took about 5 minutes for Schpood to actually finish. Wrapping his arm up with practice gentleness, "You're good at this huh?" Saparata broke the silence. Mildly impressed.


"Yea well you have to be good at this, island 1 isn't exactly the safest place," He responded simply, shrugging at the statement. He freed Saps from his grasp, he quickly retreated his arm, hiding it.

 

"I'm gonna, go get my jumper," He was about to stand, halfway off the stool before Schpood stopped him, "You know you don't have to hide it, it's only me."

 

"What if someone else comes in uninvited," Saps said sarcastically, gesturing at the man stood on the other side of the counter, "Saparata, I know at least five people with scars like yours, and even more with scars from other things, we all fight our own battles. No ones going to judge you for fighting yours." He stated matter of factly.

 

The man stood there, thinking. Something clicked in his brain, "I-" He said, unsure of what to say after that, "It's fucking hot anyways," he settled on suddenly changing his direction, heading for the couch, "So, uh what was that show you wanted to watch?" 

 

Schpoods face lit up, whether it was from the fact Saps didn't feel the need to hide, or the fact he got to watch a new show the man was unsure of. Schpood instantly began to ramble, heading for the couch. He jumped over the top of it, landing beside Saparata with a thud. Saps grabbed the box cookies, "Dude you ate like half the box," he counted the number of cookies that had been 'so graciously' left for him.

 

Schpood rolled his eyes, punching Saps shoulder, "They're really good!" He exclaimed. Fiddling with the buttons of the remote.

 

Saparata smiled, watching Schpood carefully, the sound of the show and Schpoods talking melting into the background. Just taking in the sight, of another human being, of another living thing being so understanding. It reminded him of Fluixon, and maybe, just maybe, he decided it might as well be worth it to get better. 

 

Notes:

I really like Schpood and Saps friendship. (NOT shipping the 2)

Jophiel, Saps and Micro are siblings in this because I said so.