A/N: This little thing here is based off of feralfoxwolf's comic on tumblr. Go look at it
Damn it…
God fucking damn it!
He couldn't stand this feeling of being so weak and useless.
Feeling the dirty brown tears sliding down his cheeks.
Feeling her blood all over his body…
It was starting to dry now and harden into a flakey shell, but there were still areas where it was liquid and it squelched sickeningly with his movements causing his stomach to turn.
He couldn't do it; couldn't bring himself to make her ending easier.
Couldn't stay and watch as he caused her to suffer, it was his fault she was hurting now, his fault because he couldn't do something simple like killing. The lance would have slid through the body easily, would have ended the pain she was feeling. He shivered in guilt and horror. He was a troll for fuck's sake! That kind of thing shouldn't cause these feelings! He couldn't imagine the way it must feel to have your blood expel itself from the body until there was none left to keep the heart pumping.
He knew vaguely where he was running away to. His first choice would have been going to Aradia, but for obvious reasons she was ruled out. There was only one other person he felt even remotely close to, and even if their last conversation had ended on an awkward note it paled in importance to what was happening now.
He just needed someone to talk to face-to-face. His hands were shaking too hard to type anything out. He was barely able to keep the rocket chair on track.
He didn't remember most of the journey when he finally arrived; even if he had it would have been shoved out almost immediately at the sight before him.
He choked back a sob and covered his mouth, hot brown tears returning with vengeance, his cheeks still slightly stained from the last round of crying and some lingering blue stains. He moved the car closer to the blood soaked body and lightly shook his friend's shoulder, his soul begging whatever god there was that he was just stuck in a horrorterror.
The other showed no reaction to the touch or forced movement.
He didn't bother trying to keep the next anguished cry in. He couldn't do this. He couldn't lose this one too. Clambering out of the rocket chair he fell beside the troll bathed in his own purple blood. Sobbing the brown blood reached out and wrapped an arm around the lanky boy and with much struggling – and quiet pleadings with omnipotent beings that may or may not exist that he could still do something – was able to pull them both back onto the chair.
He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw in determination, it was obvious now that the highblood was too near death to stop it, but maybe he could be revived. Revving the engine the mohawked troll set the chair on course to circle this planet until he could locate the Quest Bed.
He ignored the fact that his clothing was once again soaked through with the blood of another, more pressing matters were at hand. He ignored the aching of his heart and pushed onwards towards the pillars and the slab of stone that represented the only hope he had left to save his dearest friend.
He set the body down gently on the bed and folded the other's hands, brushing the curly bangs from his forehead finding some solace in the peaceful expression on the clown boy's face. He couldn't stop the hysterical tear strained laugh that escaped his throat. If he didn't know any better he'd say he was the one dying, feeling his blood pusher being ripped into shreds at the very sight, not the serene boy in front of him.
He stared at the face of the other boy and hesitantly placed a kiss on the painted forehead. He swallowed again and clambered back into the chair, he didn't want to be around for when the purple blood finished his transition into god-tier. It would almost feel like he was intruding on something and honestly, he didn't want to be in any ones presence right now. The bull horned troll turned the rocket powered vehicle away from the Quest Bed and left. He had no idea where he was going to go next…
He now carried the pain of the death of the three closest to him. It didn't matter to him that they may still be around. She was just a shell of what she once was (literally.) The other two almost felt like they were fakes, all he could see were their blood soaked bodies, it made him feel uncomfortable to be in their company. The blue blood would surely make him feel worse were they to speak, and the purple blood had no idea that his shy friend had anything to do with the new found powers he possessed and there was no way he would ever know if adiosToreador had any say in it.
But he didn't want to have to think of these things, didn't want to be continually reminded how useless he was because he couldn't protect his friends in anyway. He only wanted to sleep now and find happiness in the only place he could; his dreams.