I've browsed through a lot of post-Dead Space 2 fanfics that usually seem to end with Isaac heading towards a long, happier life… but I've yet to see one bring this sad possibility to light.
- Hemoptysis
I do not own Dead Space or any of its fantastic characters… wish I did, though.
oOo
Fooled
"I'll put a bullet in my head, and I'm gone, gone, gone, gone…"
- Hollywood Undead, "Bullet"
The network of narrow hallways that made up the interior of the seedy little Phobos Motel seemed oddly quiet as Ellie made her way back to the small room that she and Isaac now shared, her right arm wrapped around a bagful of groceries from her latest shopping trip. Two weeks had passed since their escape from the destruction of the Sprawl, and they'd been "living" here ever since - an untidy tangle of a space station situated among the remnants of the long-since-cracked moon of Mars, Phobos, and as far as they could tell appeared to have no affiliation with either EarthGov or the Church of Unitology. What better place for a couple of dangerous, wanted fugitives like themselves to hide out in? At least the station's inhabitants didn't seem interested in asking too many questions… so long as they had their names (fake ones, of course, just in case) and they paid for the room, they were content to just look the other way.
She stopped upon reaching room 14B, the humble second-story abode that she and Isaac had taken to calling "home"... the closest thing they had to a home, anyway. (And likely would have for a good, long while.) After casting a furtive glance around to make sure she was really alone in the corridor, she rapped at the door with her free hand.
"Pssst. Hey, Isaac, it's me. Open up." she hissed, just loud enough that she knew he'd be able to hear her from inside.
She stood there for a full minute, waiting, but there was no response. Her brows furrowed. Huh, that was weird… he always answered the door. She shrugged and started groping around in her back pocket for the card key. He'd probably just fallen asleep or something… which she would find mildly surprising. Sleep never seemed to come easily to the poor man... but considering what he'd been through, it was understandable.
Ellie scanned the key through the lock and the door slid open, making an unpleasant grating sound attesting to the motel's less-than-perfect upkeep. The room was completely dark, something else she found a little odd, but then again, Isaac was probably just napping. She flicked on the light and set the bag of groceries down on the table, taking a quick look around; no Isaac to be seen. The place itself was rather shabby, with not much else besides a tiny kitchen and two small bedrooms, one for her and one for him, and one bathroom that they shared. Definitely no honeymoon suite, but it was certainly better than drifting vacantly through space with nothing to sleep in but the uncomfortable chair of a stolen gunship.
"Hey, Isaac? Where are you? I brought food…" She crept over to his bedroom door and slid it open, squinting her one good eye to make out the dim shape of the bed in the relative darkness. It was empty, the covers undisturbed. She bit her lip thoughtfully. Well… maybe he went out for a while… taking a walk, getting a little thinking time… better than seeing him coop himself up in here all day yet again…
She turned away - and then she noticed something. Something she hadn't before. There, across the room... the bathroom light was on. She could see it illuminating the thin spaces in between the door and the wall. He'd probably been in there the whole time… but still, he should've at least heard her calling him by now…
"Isaac…?" Ellie stood outside the bathroom door, and pressed her ear against it. She could hear the faint hiss of pouring water… ah, that was probably it. He was just showering, that's all. Doubtful he could hear her over the water…
"Isaac? You know I'm back, right…?" She knocked hard on the door, but there was still no response from inside. "Hey, are you in there? Why won't you talk to me? You know I hate being ignored…"
After another few seconds of silence, she sighed irritably and pressed the button next to the doorframe. "Alright, if that's how you wanna play it, then fine, I'll just come in. Better cover yourself up, buddy…"
The door slid open with that same grating sound, revealing the tiny bathroom behind it. And suddenly, Ellie desperately wished she hadn't pressed that button. She desperately, desperately wished she hadn't.
There was Isaac, sprawled out in the dingy bathtub as if he'd fallen asleep there, still fully clothed. The showerhead was spraying water on his chest at full-blast, and looked like it had been for some time. His head - or what was left of it - was propped up against the wall, a fountain of blood spattered across the tiles behind it like somebody had taken a bucketful of red paint mixed in with chunks of brain matter and bits of skull and slung the mixture there like some hideous abstract painting. His arm hung limply over the edge of the tub, and right beneath his hand, his Plasma Cutter. The running water had surely masked the suspicious sound of the Cutter firing nicely…
Ellie just stood there, eye fixed on the ghastly scene before her, a dull roar pounding in her ears. She was hoping beyond hope that she wasn't really seeing this, that this was just some kind of nightmarish hallucination, all in her head… she squeezed her eye shut, opened it again - but it was still there, that vivid red smear, all that was left of a man who'd finally been broken.
A wave of revulsion swept through her, and she couldn't stop herself from turning and vomiting into the bathroom sink, continuing even after her stomach had been emptied. Her insides were on fire, her vision blurring over with barely-suppressed tears.
God, just… oh GOD, why would he…why NOW, after all of this…oh GOD…
She turned and ran from the bathroom, she couldn't bear to face it any longer. The door closed itself behind her, and she pressed her back to its cold, steel surface, trying to still the harsh trembling in her body with little success.
Why the fuck… why the fuck would he DO THIS? her mind cried out. Right NOW, when things were finally starting to look up for the two of us… after all he'd come through and survived… every goddamn one of those awful creatures he'd torn apart…and THIS is how he dies? By his OWN FUCKING HAND?
Ellie buried her face in her hands, reflecting back on the past two weeks, trying hard to discern where, where and what had gone so horribly wrong, what she might've been able to change, just to keep him alive…
He'd… he'd seemed happy… at least, somewhat. It had taken a couple of days, but he'd finally begun to lower the mental walls he'd built around himself, had actually begun to smile, even laugh a little again… of course, the attempts at conversation aboard the gunship awkward at best but at least better than the heavy silence. There'd been a lot he'd been reluctant to tell her about, at first… it had taken a lot of careful coaxing for him to finally open up about Nicole. She could hardly believe the awful things he'd told her… could hardly imagine the pain he must've been in. But he'd seemed so much like he was starting to move on with his life, putting the terrible events of his past as far behind him as he could manage… had all the little smiles, the laughter and the joking around, just been lies? False happiness thrown up to mask the inner turmoil and the growing depression, so she wouldn't worry about him?
Then again… Ellie recalled the occasions since the Sprawl incident when the cracks in Isaac's fragile psyche had shown through… the times he'd stared sadly, almost longingly out the window when he'd thought she wasn't looking. The aura of despondency that seemed to constantly hang like a poisonous cloud around him, even when he'd act cheerful… the few nights she'd laid awake in bed, listening to him wake screaming from yet another dementia-induced nightmare, screaming for Nicole… she was sure he didn't know she knew about those…
She couldn't believe how damn foolish she was. How easily she'd let Isaac delude her into thinking that everything would be okay, even though she'd seen the hurt still in his eyes… made her think that he was getting better, that he'd make it through, though the physical wounds would be by far the quickest in healing… he'd played her so damn easily. She hadn't suspected a thing... and now, he was gone. Her only friend. In one shot. Just like that. And never coming back.
Hot tears flowed down Ellie's cheek from her one remaining eye, sadness and anguish running rampant throughout her body to mingle with a rising sense of anger. Everything they'd been through… every seemingly insurmountable situation they'd survived, against all odds… even when he'd sent her away on the gunship, begged her to save herself… she'd refused to leave him to die… she'd rescued him from certain death, given them both a second chance at life… and this is how he repaid her? By throwing that chance away, splattering it all over the goddamned bathroom walls without even so much as a thought in the world as to how she would be affected?
Her hands balled themselves into fists at the senselessness of it all. "Isaac, y-you… you selfish BASTARD…"
She stormed around their shabby little motel room, struggling to see through the blur of angry tears, overturning anything her hands came into contact with. She wasn't too sure what exactly she was looking for; most likely an audio recording, a text log, ANYTHING that may contain a reason why, WHY he would do such a thing, WHY he would just leave her like this, but she found nothing. Of course. Typical fucking Isaac, always acting first, thinking later… "full of bad ideas", as he would've said... would never say again...
She took a step, and something crinkled under her shoe. She froze, looking downward; a crumpled corner of a scrap of paper poked out from underneath it. She must've swept it off the counter in her frenzied search a minute ago and hadn't noticed.
Ellie knelt and picked the little scrap up with trembling fingers, smoothing it out and staring blankly down at it. A simple, hand-written note. Ten short words, hastily scrawled in black pen with a shaking hand. The paper was dotted with small spots of dried liquid… tears. His tears, she knew.
NICOLE, I'M COMING.
ELLIE… HAVE A GOOD LIFE. I'M SORRY.
New flecks of wetness were dripping onto the little note now. Her own tears. She crumpled it in her fist, dropping weakly into a chair at the kitchen table. She should've known. She should've fucking known. He was with Nicole again now… that's all he'd wanted, all along. She stared dully at the bathroom door, momentarily lost in her dismal thoughts. She still felt nauseated, could still taste the acrid traces of vomit in her mouth. Funny how she could easily stomach slicing the limbs off of swarms of those "necromorph" monstrosities, but show her a friend's self-shattered skull and she just fell to pieces.
...The running shower was still hauntingly audible, even from here… She'd have to call somebody to mop his damn brains off the tiles soon…
The very thought of that was enough to finally force a strangled sob to break from her, sounding so strange and foreign to her own ears that she surprised herself. She couldn't stop, just couldn't stop sobbing... it was as if a dam that had been building up inside her ever since she'd lost her crewmembers to the Sprawl outbreak those two long weeks ago had finally burst. She hated crying, always had, always hated showing this kind of weakness… but right now, she didn't really care.
She rested her forehead against the cool, metallic surface of the table and allowed the tears to fall.
oOo
Honestly, as a big-time Isaac fangirl, this broke my heart to write, but… you have an idea, you run with it, I guess. Not gonna lie, this was probably partially inspired by the song "Bullet" by Hollywood Undead. Great song, worth a listen… it's not at all what you'd expect a song about suicide to sound like. Reviews would be loved!
Also, feel free to warn me if you think I should up the rating on this… dunno if it could be considered "bad" enough to be rated maturely... I don't think so, but, you know… not so good at judging those types of things. And I know some people can be touchy on the subject of suicide, so...