Thank you all for the views, favourites, follows and reviews. I absolutely adore reading your comments.

I'm sorry.

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Eridan curled himself into a ball in an attempt to protect his head and chest as best he could. He struggled to tense up enough that the kicks he was trying to endure would hurt slightly less. It was getting harder to prevent the tiny sounds from slipping past his lips, but it was even more difficult to keep a level head and to think straight.

He had been grabbed by the tallest stranger, and he remembered screaming something, then slamming his forehead into their face, trying to buy himself a second to at least try to run away, but it had proven to be a fruitless endeavour. The three other males had leapt straight into action, attacking Eridan without any hesitation, and despite the fact that he had fought them off for a minute or so, there was no way in hell that he would actually be able to win against four people.

There had been a sickening moment, in which Eridan actually believed that he might have had half a hope in beating enough of the group, and that they would all just leave him alone; he swung his fists at his assailants, and most of his punches connected in places that he knew would hurt most. This was all well and good for the first minute or so, but all it took was for one of the men to boot him viciously in the gut, and Eridan dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach and gulping down air.

The moment Eridan was on his knees, the group began their barrage of heavy kicks, their attacks rained down all over his body in a cruel display of brutal maliciousness.

He had been unable to effectively fight off any of them, so the fact that he was lying against the cold tarmac of the pavement was an inevitability. It had been the only real outcome, but this knowledge didn't make it any easier. Eridan's head throbbed, and his vision swam; he had lost his glasses in the scuffle, so he couldn't even make sense of the blurry mess of the world around him. Not that it mattered much, seeing as it was getting harder to keep his eyes open, especially considering the fact that the world kept slipping into a muffled darkness. The way that the voices had begun fading away was almost relaxing, and Eridan thought that it almost felt as if he was melting into the ground.

Unfortunately, every time he felt himself being welcomed into the open-armed embrace of nothingness, the dull thump and blossoming, excruciating pain of a foot being slammed against his body would snatch him up, and wrench him away from the dark tranquility.

The worst thing was that he was completely helpless to stop it.

It felt like an eternity, but eventually Eridan felt his voice give out, and he was suddenly too tired to make any more noise, even though the pain threatened to force the whimpers from his throat. After Eridan had been silent for a minute or so, the attackers rooted through his pockets and pulled out his phone and wallet. As they ran off, there was a sickening moment where one of the men stepped on Eridan's fallen glasses, and Eridan heard a small click before the glasses shattered with a tinkling crunch.

Eridan didn't move. He stared out at the road with blank eyes. It was so tempting to allow that warm darkness to envelope him, as it whispered with words that dripped with honey and sweetness, promises of sleep and comfort. Eridan knew that if he allowed the sleep to overtake him, the pain would go, and he would feel better, it was just so tempting, especially seeing as he was in so much pain that breathing made his lungs feel as if they were filled with broken glass.

Time melted by, and Eridan pressed a hand against the pavement next to his head, pushing with all the strength he had left, in an attempt to get up. His fingers glanced against something warm and wet, but he couldn't register it. With a weariness that seemed to have taken root in his very muscles and bones, Eridan slowly sat up, then pushed himself to his feet; he clung to a wall for support, and he tried to force his feet to go where he actually wanted them to, but he was shaking so much that it was proving to be difficult.

Using the wall as a crutch, Eridan crept along. He could feel his body was trying to shut itself down, but he desperately forced it to keep going where he needed it to go, which at that precise moment, was wherever the hell a phonebox was.

Something wet was running from his nose, and down his chin, and Eridan found himself unable to give two flying fucks. He brought a hand up to his head, and felt that his hair was wet and matted with something sticky. Further prodding just caused him to blanch, and come very close to passing out, as a bolt of white-hot pain tore it's way through his body.

As he stumbled along, Eridan found it harder to focus, and the sounds of his own footsteps seemed to get further away; it echoed and grew fainter, and Eridan was reminded of walking alone through the halls of an quiet museum. Wistful memories tugged gently at Eridan's consciousness, and he found it so difficult to deny himself their sweet and welcoming embrace. His footsteps faltered, and he leant against the wall, surely it would be okay if he stopped for just a minute, just until he got his breath back, it would only be a minute.

Eridan groaned quietly as he wrenched himself away from the wall, and stumbled. He couldn't allow himself to stop, he had to keep going or it would have all been for nothing. He pushed forwards, because even in his confusion and darkness-addled mind, he knew he had to get help. He needed to get to a phone, or a hospital, or Sollux.

Oh God, Sollux. It was Sollux's turn to choose their date, what if he wanted to take him out? Eridan didn't dare look down at himself, he knew that he must look like absolute shit, and he felt so damned ashamed. Eridan began thinking of all the ways he could mask his wounds with makeup, because he didn't want Sollux to see him like this, he didn't want Sollux to see him after having the shit kicked out of him, he didn't want Sollux to feel as ashamed of him as he felt about himself.

There was no way that Sollux would want to dance with him now.

Eridan felt his stomach drop. He froze for a moment, and his eyes welled up. A swarm of hideous thoughts clawed their way into his mind, and he was helpless to stop it; every insecurity and fear he had reared their ugly heads, and screamed about how he already wasn't good enough for Sollux, and that the bruises, blood and swelling he was now covered in would help Sollux realise that for himself. His heart felt as though it was straining, and Eridan wiped a wet hand across his eyes, refusing to allow himself to cry. He just had to keep going. He knew Sollux loved him, and surely that wouldn't change. He just had to keep a level head, and find a fucking phonebooth.

He desperately looked around himself, but he couldn't make sense of anything; the world was dark, and blurry, and Eridan suddenly felt a little scared. This was not the time to fall victim to the fear though, and Eridan swallowed thickly before continuing his shuffling search; there had to be a phonebox around here somewhere, it wasn't like they were completely obsolete, was it?

It was getting harder and harder to move, and Eridan's already unfocused vision was darkening. He shook his head, and tried to make sense of everything, wishing that he hadn't drunk anything, or that he had just stayed home. He realised that he was on the outskirts of the town, and he tried to quicken his pace, afterall he knew there was at least one phonebox around here somewhere.

The closed shops and empty streets made it seem like a ghost town, and Eridan shivered against the cold. He brought his arms around himself in an attempt to warm himself up, but it only served to make him flinch and gasp; everywhere hurt, and just the action of holding himself was shockingly painful. Eridan cursed himself for holding his aesthetics over any kind of practicality, it was yet another way that his own vanity had once again fucked him over.

It appeared almost like a mirage; Eridan squinted at the small booth of light, and it beckoned him like an angel. He grinned with his relief, and tried to ignore how his lips peeled apart after a thick membrane had formed from the viscous liquid that had run down across them from his nose. Salvation was within walking distance, and Eridan felt like things would finally start looking up.

The phonebooth smelled of piss and cigarettes, but none of that meant anything as Eridan lifted the phone, and held it against his head. He needed to do this quickly, as he could feel himself fading already, he was just so tired. He narrowed his eyes at the numbered buttons, trying to see them properly, and lifted a hand.

The buttons were stiff and cold, and Eridan was almost surprised to see the smear of red that his fingertips left on them. He tried to wipe away the blood, but only managed to spread the mess around.

When the voice on the phone asked what Eridan's emergency was, he almost cried with happiness, he was finally going to get help, he was going to be okay, he was-

"Please help me, I..."

The phone slipped from Eridan's hand, and clattered against the booth, dangling from the it's metal extension. Eridan looked down at his own hand, confused, because it didn't make sense that he couldn't move it, and that he couldn't grip the phone.

He sagged against the wall of the booth, and slid down the glass until he landed on his ass. The exhaustion had taken it's toll on him quickly, and he could barely breathe. His head lolled forwards, and when Eridan coughed weakly, his lap was sprayed with maroon; a strand of red hung from Eridan's bottom lip, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't muster up enough energy to wipe it away.

"Please... Please help." Eridan's near-silent whispers dripped from his lips, tinged with blood and desperation. He tried to move himself closer to the dangling phone, but he failed miserably, and only succeeded in falling to the side, and banging his already bruised and battered head against the glass wall. This was it. He couldn't even bring himself to sit up, it was over.

The phonebooth was so cold, and everything was blurry and seemed so alien. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right; Eridan blinked away the tears as he thought about how unfair it was, how could Eridan fucking Ampora meet his end in a phonebooth that stank of piss, having been beaten up by a group of little shits? He had so much he wanted to do, he was so close to finishing college, he had only just started telling Sollux he loved him, he was going to show Sollux his work, he was going to teach Sollux to dance so that the nerd wouldn't just bob awkwardly to his favourite jazz songs, he was fucking happy, so how the fuck could this happen to him? He just wanted to see Sollux again. He just wanted to go home.

It was so quiet. Eridan closed his eyes and blocked out the light that had seemed so beautiful only minutes ago. He was so cold, but his arms hung limply at his sides, and refused to wrap themselves around him.

The cold settled deep in his bones, and made his fingers ache. His whole existence at that moment in time was a mess of pain, exhaustion, cold, darkness, and the stench of copper and piss.

It was almost scary how quiet the world was.

Eridan felt his mind drifting off, but he knew that he should fight the sleep, and that he should try to stay awake, but it was useless. Unconsciousness welcomed him once more with tempting, gentle whispers, and warm touches; it wrapped itself around Eridan, and brought with it a deep darkness that promised to remove the pain and weariness. Eridan knew what else the unconsciousness would bring, and he knew he had to stay awake, he tried to focus on the pain, because even though it was agony, it was also the thing that was going to save him.

He sniffed wetly, and coughed once more, but he knew he couldn't fight it for much longer. This was it, the end.

He was afraid to die.

Eridan tilted his head, and pressed his face against the obviously filthy glass, his breathing had become so shallow that it barely even left a ghostly mist against it. His heartbeat had dissolved into a weak fluttering.

"Please..."

He was so scared, but he was so tired.

So fucking tired.