A/n: *deep breaths and posts* Introducing 'Hellish voice'. Apologies in advance for getting dark wth this lighter story.
Warnings: some darker themes, thoughts, concepts and references to mental issues/disorders. If you are proceeding, please proceed with some caution, and an open mind. This is 'hellish voice', named such for good reasons.
Note: next time i will return to lighter topics including Cherry cuteness and mutual pining.
In pictures I see all that we were and could be
I'll hold onto the breakthroughs
I'm a fool for you
In the mirrors I see demons set out to haunt me
With familiar faces starting to talk like I do
'I cant stand you, I don't get you
I don't want to, never want to, get to know you.'
In the mirrors I see demons set out to haunt me
With familiar faces starting to talk like I do
I can't stand myself
- Circus-P [I Can't Stand You]
Chapter 25: I Can't Stand You
Sousuke watched Gin walk away with a lovely spring in his step, Cherry running off ahead of him. He watched the little fox stop and wait for him to follow, yipping until Gin shooed her on, which made him laugh a little.
He waited until the boy and his fox were out of sight before he went back inside and slipped into the house quietly. Smile still tugging the corners of his lips upwards even as he went into the kitchen and boiled the kettle, ready to settle down with a nice cup of tea to end his perfect days with Gin.
Once the kettle was boiled, he poured himself a pot of tea and grabbed a mug from the cupboard and took them into the living room. He sat on the sofa, feet up on the coffee table and sighed happily. The heat of the mug radiating into his hands. Yes. This was a perfect way to end a perfect morning and the end of a wonderful time with his lovely Gin.
He was just taking the first sip of his tea, wondering if his next date with Gin would be as magical as this one had been, when the dark thoughts returned.
I don't know what you're so happy about. You know he's just trying to play you.
He tried to ignore the thoughts, the doubts plaguing him because of it but it wouldn't stop. Gin wasn't here anymore and there was nothing to take his mind off it.
What did you think? That he was falling for you? HA! He couldn't get away from you fast enough!
Sousuke sat and gripped his mug of tea, trying hard to blot out the voice, by remembering the wonderful night. This morning. The passion. The love. Being happy. All of his pleasant interactions with Gin thus far in the past few weeks. Trying to keep his thoughts buoyant and upbeat.
But it was useless.
It was always useless.
The darkness would always come, always out of nowhere, and blindside him.
He sucked in a breath. His mood was crashing, and it was crashing hard.
He tightened his grip on his mug. Why? Why was it always like this? Why was he feeling so low now when only ten minutes ago he was feeling on top of the world?
Why?
He was happy before. So happy. So incredibly happy.
Why now?
Gods he hated this.
It was like only black and white existed in his world, and he was constantly switching between them. Sometimes he swore his brain hated him, being wired this way. Although he knew the real reason was much more than that. But still. Gods, no wonder Gin couldn't tun away fast enough earlier. He was a fucking mess. A fuckup. And who on earth in their right mind could love a fuckup?
Yes, now you're getting it. You're a fuckup. That's all you do, just fuck things up. Gin's definitely better off without you. You deserve to be alone.
Aizen sat up and carefully set his mug down on the coffee table with shaky hands, as if it might detonate at any moment - or as if he might detonate at any moment, he didn't know which – and held his hands over his ears. Wiling his brain to shut the fuck up. Because Gin liked him. Gin had said so. Gin had said he'd had a lovely time with him and made plans to see him again. And why would he do that if he didn't like him?
But the hellish voice in his head didn't care.
You idiot. He's playing the long game. Just waiting to get what he wants out of you. And when he does he'll stab you in the back. He'll be just like all the others. Selfish and out for himself. He doesn't want you. He wants what you can give him.
Gin doesn't want you. He doesn't love you.
It laughed, and he pressed his hands over his ears harder. Trying to tell himself Gin could love him. That it was possible.
Of course he doesn't love you, you complete waste. The voice said. I don't know why you even try.
He sank further into his chair, trying to fight the darkness within. But it was useless. He'd have better luck trying to stop the tide coming in with his bare hands. Once the darkness infected, there was no stopping it from blotting out every single bit of light and hope in his world.
No stopping it from wrapping itself around his ankles and dragging him down into the abyss to drown.
Alone.
How could anyone love you?
You're pathetic. A waste.
If you think anyone could love you then you're crazy. Stupid. Deluded. Mad. Insane, insane, insane.
You're insane. A failure as a human being.
His breathing was shallow now. Harsher. His whole body shaking with the sheer effort it took to hold himself together. Because from experience he knew it took ten thousand times longer to put yourself back together than it did not to fall apart in the first place. And it was easier to keep it together rather than go through it again. But he was failing at even that. Just like he failed at everything else.
Pathetic. Useless.
Weak.
Who would love you?
He could feel his heart racing. Trying to escape the cage of his ribs with force. Bashing against what felt like the fragile walls of his chest cavity. It was pointless to fight the darkness. It was right. He was everything it said he was. Useless. Pathetic. A complete fucking waste.
No wonder he didn't have any friends. No wonder Gin didn't want to be with him.
The thoughts grew softer, comforting almost. And he could feel the darkness curl around him. Feel it smile and murmur softly in his ear. What you need to do is self destruct...
He wished Gin were here with him now. Just so he wouldn't feel so alone. Just so he could go back to being happy. But gin wasn't here, he was already on his way home. So the closest he could get was looking at the photographs of them together. Actual, physical proof Gin liked him. Evidence he had been happy.
Ladies and gentlemen, exhibit A.
They were sitting on the coffee table and he picked them up. Looking at them carefully. Seeing all the things they were and could be. Happy. Together. Smiling. He would have smiled now if not for the all consuming emptiness inside him.
All the things you aren't and weren't.
He knew somewhere in his mind that he should be happy – why wasn't he happy? He should be ecstatic – but he just didn't know. Was this what Gin did to him? If so, gods only knew how something so enticing could have such awful side effects. And if this was withdrawal then this itching and scratching was its own kind of hell.
Maybe the voice was right. Maybe self destructing was better. After all, he was crazy. And who would love a crazy person?
Yes. Do it. Everyone will be fine without you. Better without you. Especially Gin. In fact, him most of all.
He stood up slowly and made his way into the kitchen again.
I don't know why you even bother. He can't stand you. None of them can. They all just put up with you because they're being nice. They're just too polite to tell you to fuck off. They just feel sorry for you.
They just pretend to care.
He stopped when he caught sight of his reflection in the glass of the cupboard where he kept the wine glasses and other breakables. Saw himself as he was. Empty. Unsmiling. Unsure of whether he'd ever smile again.
Not liking at all who he saw in the mirror.
You should just disappear.
He stared blankly at his reflection for a moment. Just breathing. Though even that was hard now. Feeling himself sinking further and further. Deeper and deeper.
You'll be out of everyone's way then.
He inhaled deeply and sighed. Yes. He was just in the way. A hindrance. After all, who'd want to put up with him? Not even he wanted to and he was the one who inhabited his body. Uncomfortable in his own skin.
A part of him knew he needed help. That he should get help. Because this wasn't normal. Nothing about this was normal. Nobody was either insanely happy or at rock bottom...
But getting help meant psych evaluations. Pills. Crazy candies. Talking. Talking about just how insane he was. Other people talking about how he'd lost the plot and was too weak to handle the pressure of being a person. People questioning his fitness and ability to work.
No, thankyou. He felt crazy enough on his own without that circus. He didn't need any help feeling crazy.
He didn't want to be put in a box and labelled.
And he certainly didn't want pills numbing out the highs, because those were what he lived for. Because those were the days he was on top of his game. Invincible. No-one could run his mood. And he just got so much done. He lived for those days.
Even though it meant he'd be constantly feeling like he were walking on ice, unsure of whether or not his next step would result in him crashing through it into freezing cold, dark water for days, sometimes weeks, until he could drag himself onto the ice again. Ready to do it all again. And again. And again. Living a constant cycle of walking, plunging into icy water, nearly drowning, pulling himself up, walking, shivering, defrosting, running, falling through the ice.
If that didn't make him crazy, he didn't know what did.
He wondered if Gin knew he was messed up. Crazy. If Gin could sense it somehow. If Gin knew he was fucked up and was just too nice to say what he really thought.
I can't stand you. I don't want to ever get to know you. I'd never love you in a million years.
He wouldn't blame Gin for it at all. In fact, he wouldn't want to love him either.
He sighed, shoulders sagging, moving slowly to the cupboard to take a bottle of whiskey he'd been saving. A bottle meant to be savoured, enjoyed. He planned to do neither of those.
Instead, he shuffled back into the living room and sat back down on the sofa. Body hunched forward and forearms resting on his thighs. Hands handing limply between his knees.
He unscrewed the bottle lid.
The darkness curling around him like a familiar friend. But we all have our hellish voices, don't we? He thought as it consumed him.
Nobody loves you. Stop wanting them to. Just stop hoping, stop wishing, stop thinking, stop feeling. Stop. Just stop. It's pointless. Useless. So just stop. Stop.
Stop.
Disappear.
Because nobody here cares.
Nobody would miss you if you were gone.
It laughed, mocking and cold, like the icy water he'd fallen into, and he covered his face with his hand. He tried once more, futilely, to block it out. But it was no good.
The poison was inside, not out.
And it was right.
Nobody cared.
Nobody.
You should end it all now.
Oh. But you won't, will you? Because you're a coward. Because you still hope. You still cling to a foolish dream that someone will love you. That Gin will love you. That things will get better, which obviously isn't going to happen.
It laughed again. Cynical. Dark. Icy cold. You really have a stubborn streak, don't you? An iron will, it sneered. But I guess that's a good thing, because you have a job to do.
And when you do it, it continued, when you do it, everyone will despise you more. Which, let's face it, won't be much of a stretch, as they all loathe you already.
He closed his eyes and the voice laughed again. His own inner saboteur. And the darkness coiling around him quickly drowned out every single last bit of light. Even the light of his Moon.
You're a fool to think anyone would ever love you, it said.
And Sousuke, desperate to blot it out, or diving headfirst into the abyss – who knew? Who cared? It didn't matter anyway - picked up the bottle and drank.
He didn't even taste it. And meanwhile his tea slowly went cold.
