Hector didn't get in trouble for hurting Kara. He thought he should be relieved that he wasn't being kicked out, and that his friends were working so hard to defend him, but he didn't. He didn't really feel anything.
Hector had thought that he'd been going through the motions before, but it was so much worse now. He didn't even feel real, or alive. He was just there. For the first time since being saved from his father, Hector found himself wondering if he actually was human the way that Quirin promised he was.
His friends assured him that his tendency to lash out didn't make him any less human, but that wasn't the problem. Hector just didn't feel normal. He was numb, and tired, and a little bit of him longed to be back home with his dad, just because things made more sense there. He'd been in pain, but at least he'd felt something, instead of constantly thinking about how he should be feeling and wondering why he wasn't.
It would make more sense if he was a spirit. Maybe not a dog, but something more like the changeling fae that he'd heard Adira mention once or twice in her stories. Something that looked human, but definitely wasn't. It was the only thing that made sense to him right now.
He had tried to say something to Quirin, but his words got all tangled up. His friend hadn't completely understood. He'd just hugged Hector tightly and told him that he shouldn't take what Kara and the other guards had to say to heart. He was human. He mattered. Being scared didn't make that any less true.
But Hector wasn't scared anymore. He hadn't even been truly scared when he'd lashed out at Kara. He'd just been overwhelmed and cornered. That wasn't the same thing, but Hector didn't understand the difference enough to try to explain it.
Hector didn't go to Brotherhood training. The captain and Quirin's mother said that he wasn't in trouble, but for everybody's safety they thought that it would be for the best if he trained with Edmund, Quirin, and Adira, rather than with the whole group. He wasn't disappointed or excited about this change. Hector didn't feel anything at all.
Hector sighed and looked out the window, out towards the trees he could see in the distance. He wondered if running could make him feel alive again, just like that first time, but he was reluctant to try. When he and Quirin had gone out it had helped a little bit, but not nearly as much as it had the first time. Hector didn't want to drag his friend out for something that probably wouldn't even work. The disappointment would just make the numbness worse, and he didn't want that.
Hector ran his hand over the fur along the top of his cloak. It was soft, and reminded him of the poor lynx. He could still hear its pained cries echoing in his ears. He could swear that he could feel its blood on his hands, no matter how many times he washed them.
And he remembered the sound of the last breath as the lynx slipped away, finally released from its pain. It had still sounded hurt, but there had also been a layer of relief there.
Hector was starting to feel like he would do anything for relief. Anything to make this numbing hollowness end.
Hector tried not to just wallow. He tried to make the numbness go away. He tried to do things that made him happy, but he already knew that running didn't work. Snuggling with his new fur just made him think about the lynx, and if he borrowed Quirin's fur to snuggle with instead he would feel guilty for avoiding thinking about the lynx, when the poor creature deserved to be remembered.
He went down to see his animal friends, but he couldn't find the energy to play with them. He just cuddled with them, and then felt guilty about it because he knew that they were confused, concerned, and wanted to play. He liked their company, but they didn't make him feel better. They just didn't make him feel worse.
Hector tried to do the things that Quirin, Adira, and Edmund did to relax and feel happy. He dove into learning how to read from Quirin, or listening to him talk about constellations, but it didn't help. Meditation did nothing for him, and neither did sparring. As more and more things failed to do anything for him Hector started to feel frustrated and desperate.
Hector had been numbly walking around the castle, just looking for something to get through to him, and he walked past some knights who were friends with Kara. They were mad and clearly didn't like him. One of them pushed harshly against his shoulder as they passed, making Hector stumble.
He knew that he should walk away, but he was so tired of trying to be everything that everybody wanted from him when he was clearly not capable of it. Hector growled and pounced at them, attacking them back.
He felt mad, and it was thrilling. He wasn't as furious as he was used to, but it was something, and Hector was going to hold onto that.
The fight didn't last long. The captain came by and put an end to it. The knights got extra training, and Hector was sent to his room.
Quirin tried to talk to him about what was going on. He asked what Hector had been thinking, and why he had started a fight, but he didn't answer. What was he supposed to say? He had done it because he wanted to be angry? Quirin wouldn't understand. Hector didn't understand himself.
The anger gave him something, but it wasn't enough. While Quirin was treating the small cuts and scrapes he'd gotten during the scuffle, Hector felt something from the pain. Something that wasn't just physical. He couldn't really describe it, but Hector liked the fact that he could feel something.
He didn't want to be hurt, but he wondered if pain could help. He didn't really know how he could feel pain without being hurt, but he longed for a solution. Eventually, he found one. He heard some of the maids talking, and one of them was talking about her new earrings. She'd just had her ears pierced, and it had hurt, but she was happy with it.
That was what Hector wanted. Pain that he was happy with. He brought up the idea to Adira, who had earrings herself. He didn't say why he wanted his ears pierced, but she was eager to agree.
Adira spent the night in his room. First they talked about what he wanted from an earring. Something small? Something big? One ear? Both ears? Somewhere else? Multiple piercings on an ear?
It was a lot more than Hector had considered. He hadn't really thought too deeply about it, he just wanted the pain. As he talked to Adira and thought about what he wanted, he realized that this was something that he really did want. Hector had seen some people with fang earrings, and he kinda wanted that.
Hector had kept the Lynx' fangs. He hadn't really understood why, but he was glad that he had. Adira took the large fangs and made earrings out of them, talking about how her skills could rival the best jewelers in the kingdom. Hector was used to her bragging, and it usually drove him nuts, but he didn't mind it now.
When Adira eventually pierced his ear it stung sharply for a very brief moment, and then it was over. Hector had expected so much worse. He was far more confused than in pain. He frowned slightly and fingered his new fang earring. He did like it, and he didn't really feel terrible anymore, though he didn't know if it was because of the brief pain, the new earring, or just spending time with Adira.
The numbness was a little lighter for a bit after that, but a few days later when he woke up it came back with a vengeance. It felt almost suffocating, and it was frightening.
Was this just going to be his normal life now? Eternal emptiness, with only brief moments of happiness before the numb returned? Was that all life was, at least for Hector? Was he constantly going to be searching and waiting for the new way for him to be happy? It sounded exhausting, and he didn't know if that would actually be worth it.
Hector stopped really paying attention to the passing of time. Days. Weeks. It was all the same. Hector woke up, took half an hour just to convince himself to just sit up, and then a long time after that to just swing his feet off the bed, though he still didn't really get up. Sometimes he would sit up, only to lay back down again to stare at the wall and look for the will to move.
There were some days where he didn't leave his room at all. He would stay in bed, sit next to the window, or, if things were even more overwhelming, he would crawl under the bed and just lay there. It reminded him of the cupboard that he slept in back home. It shouldn't be comforting, but in a way it kinda was. It made him feel like if he closed his eyes, when he opened them up again he would find that this was all just a bad dream, and his dad was going to wake him up.
Hector knew he shouldn't almost want that, but he did. Maybe this numb feeling was just because he was dreaming, because dreams were weird like that. When Hector woke up, he would probably be hurt again, but he would fight back this time. Dream or not, Hector now knew that he was stronger than the submissive, scared little pup that he was around his dad. He always had been. Hector could fight back just enough to be able to run away, and then he could make a new life in the woods.
Or maybe he'd die trying, but one way or another, the pain would be over.
But Hector never woke up from his nightmare, because he wasn't dreaming. He was here. He really was feeling numb, and he couldn't make it stop.
Quirin tried to get Hector to leave his room, and sometimes he would let his friend drag him out, but usually he didn't. On his bad days where he couldn't even get himself to move, Quirin would come to his room, give him food, and lay there on the bed with him. Hector liked the company, but it also made him feel bad. Quirin had responsibilities. He had a family. He had other friends. He shouldn't have to burden himself with a broken kid like Hector.
Hector didn't know what was going on. He wasn't hurt. He wasn't in trouble. He should be fine, but he really wasn't. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He just knew that he couldn't get better.
Sometimes Hector wanted to be with people. Sometimes he didn't want to even see another soul. Quirin was usually the exception, but one day when Hector woke up he felt like he had a pressure on his chest, like there was something inside that wanted to come out.
For the first time in he didn't even know how long Hector got out of bed quickly. He couldn't stand it there, and he didn't even know why. Hector jumped to his feet and started stomping his feet as he rapidly ran his hands across the fur of his cloak. He couldn't stand still. His body was both too tense, and way too full of energy that he couldn't get out.
He stomped his feet and kicked his heels against the wall as hard as he could, as though he could force the tenseness right out. It wasn't a conscious decision. He felt like he couldn't control his own body. And he didn't think this was a normal human thing, because if it was then surely people would be talking about it, right?
Unless, of course, this was normal and Hector was just making a big deal about absolutely nothing. Was this a spirit or fae thing, and his body was just doing this because his soul didn't belong in this form? He really wished he knew.
Hector whined to himself and started rubbing his arm. It was just a little bit at first, a gentle rubbing, but then he started going faster and faster, curling his fingers up until he was scratching at himself. The more he did the more he felt like he needed, and the faster he went. His limbs were so tense that it almost itched, in a way. He had to clutch at , scratch, and shake his arms and legs.
His head was telling him that if he did this, everything would be fine. If he shook things out just right, his body would feel fine, and then his head would follow. He didn't get any relief, but if he didn't move the way that his body wanted him to then the tightness in his chest would get stronger and everything would be far worse.
Hector started by pacing around his room, and then he tried running or crawling, anything to move, but then he started curling in on himself and his legs grew so tense that he couldn't move them at all anymore. He curled up in the corner, pulling his knees so close to his chest that it hurt.
His legs weren't sore anymore, but the twitchiness in his arms got way worse. No scratching, shaking, or grabbing could make it better. Hector whimpered and slammed one hand against the floor so hard that it made his palm tingle. He threw his other arm back, slamming it against the wall. It didn't help. Hector tried again, and again, and then again.
Tears were starting to fall from Hector's eyes. His palm was numb, and he was so tired of not feeling anything. His elbow hurt. His shoulder was sore. But his arm still felt far too full or energy or something, and he couldn't get it out.
Hector let out a sound like a roar as he tightly gripped at his hair. He felt like he needed to throw something, but there was nothing within reach, and he couldn't bring himself to move out of his corner. Because he couldn't do what his body wanted, the feeling in his chest got stronger, and it was too much.
Hector screamed and knocked his head harshly to the side, banging it against the wall. Before he even registered the pain he swung his head to the other side and hit the other wall in the corner. Back and forth. Over and over again. It made his head hurt, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.
He just wanted things to stop. Was that really so much to ask?
Hector squeezed his hands even tighter into his hair as he whipped his head to the side, only to freeze and grimace when he felt a sharp scratch across the back of his hand. He frowned and pulled his hand back to look at it. There was a small cut on his hand. His earring. The fang had scratched into him.
Adira had warned him to be careful with the fang. He'd forgotten that warning, and now he was disregarding it on purpose. He took in a shaky breath and brought his hurt hand to the earring. He fingered at it, gently pressing the tip of his finger against the sharp fang.
Hector touched the fang and messed around with it for several minutes before he clenched his hand around it and squeezed it slightly. The fang cut into his palm. Hector hissed in pain, and then laughed and tightened his grip. This was what he had been looking for from getting the piercing in the first place. The pain was enough to cut through the nothingness that he was so tired of.
Hector got this fang from the poor lynx. He had helped to end the animal's pain. Maybe now the lynx could help him to do the same thing for himself.
Hector clenched his teeth and squeezed the fang tighter. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and gave it a sharp yank, pulling it completely out of his ear. Hector let out a piercing scream as his skin was torn. It hurt, and unlike the pain from the original piercing it didn't stop hurting immediately. It kept going, and going, and instead of getting better it almost felt like it was getting worse.
Hector screamed and shouted as he curled in on himself and instinctively tightened his grip on the fang, digging it deeper into his palm. His tears were now from pain as opposed to desperation and numbness.
His mind was consumed by pain, and even the need to shake and move was better. He was still shaking, but it was closer to shivering, and he felt like physically he couldn't stop it if he wanted to. It was better than before.
Hector's screams tapered off, only to be replaced by breathless gasps that were just shy of being chuckles or laughter. It was weird. He didn't know why he was laughing. He wasn't happy. He wasn't ticklish. He was…he didn't even know, but nothing that should make him laugh like this.
Maybe this was just another way that he was either broken or just not human.
Hector buried his head in his knees as he just cried, laughed, and clutched the fang like it was a lifeline, or maybe the only thing that could sever the lifeline that was keeping him here.
He heard the door open, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He wasn't relieved that somebody was here to help him, or upset that somebody was going to make this break from the numbness stop. He wasn't scared that somebody might be here to hurt him. He felt nothing.
"...Hector?" Quirin's voice came through. He sounded scared and sad enough for the both of them. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know." Hector muttered into his knees. He didn't even know if he knew what it meant to be okay. He wasn't bad. He wasn't good. He really didn't know what he was. That was the problem.
"I-is that blood?" Quirin sounded terrified now.
Hector his lip so sharply that he tasted iron. He nodded. He heard Quirin sigh and come closer. "Can I see?" Hector didn't want to, because he knew that Quirin would just be disappointed and worried, and then he would take the fang out and fix Hector's hand up. He was going to make this pain go away, and then Hector would have to find a new way to break through this nothingness that he felt like he was drowning in, and he was way too tired to do that.
Still, Hector held his hand out to Quirin. His friend made a wounded sound as he took Hector's hand in his own. Quirin was quiet for a long moment.
"H-Hector, was this an accident, or did you do this on purpose?" Quirin asked shakily.
"Purpose." Hector said. "Ear too."
"Your ear?" Quirin moved to see Hector's ears. He gently touched the wound. "What…why did you do this?"
"Wanted to feel something." Hector said. "Thought the lynx could do for me what we did for it." He hadn't really meant to say that. He wanted Quirin to understand though. He didn't know why, but he needed it.
Quirin made a sound that was almost like a sob. He let go of Hector's hands. He thought that his friend was going to leave or go get someone else. Hector didn't want to see anybody else. He wanted to reach for Quirin and hold him back, but he didn't want it enough to convince himself to move.
"Quirin?" He heard Adira's voice outside the door. There went his wishes to be left alone. "What's going on?"
"I'll take care of it." Quirin said, which really wasn't an answer.
"Take care of what?" Adira didn't sound impressed. "I can help, and you know it."
"I said I'd take care of it!" Quirin shouted. Hector instinctively stiffened. It made his sore muscles ache and his injuries burn. He didn't think he'd ever heard Quirin yell before. At least not like this, and not at Adira.
The door was slammed shut and locked. Quirin took a deep breath before there were the shuffling noises of him walking through the room. There was some rustling of fabric, and soon after that Hector felt a blanket being draped over his head and wrapped around his shoulder.
"I'm going to pick you up now, okay?" Quirin said. Hector shrugged. He didn't long for contact, but he wasn't terrified of it right now either. He just didn't care.
Quirin put an arm under Hector's legs, and the other around his back. He lifted Hector up and carried him to the bed, setting him down in the middle. Hector watched blankly as his friend pulled the blankets and pillows around him, making something that resembled a nest. Quirin pulled his shirt off and ripped it into strips. He reached for the pitcher of water that was kept on the nightstand in the room. He dipped one of the strips in the water, wrung it out, and started gently dabbing at the area around the fang.
Quirin got rid of as much of the blood as he could. He then grabbed the fang and very slowly started to pull it out. It hurt, but in a minute or two it was over. Quirin wrapped the fang up in the strip he'd been using and set it aside. He grabbed another strip, wet it, and started wiping away blood again. Hector just stared blankly ahead as he worked.
"Why?" Quirin asked. "Are you just having a bad day?"
"Bad day. Bad week. Bad year." Hector let out a humorless laugh. "Bad life." He started laughing, but then it turned into sobs that he couldn't stop. "I'm broken."
"You're not broken." Quirin assured him.
"Yes, I am." Hector said. "My feelings are broken. They don't work."
Quirin looked equally concerned and panicked. "What do you mean they don't work?"
"They don't work." Hector repeated. He didn't know how else to say it. "I don't feel happy when running, or playing with the bearcats. I don't feel scared of the Brotherhood, or being kicked out. I don't feel anything I'm supposed to. I'm broken."
There was a look of understanding in Quirin's eyes, and the sad look deepened. "I noticed you were sad a lot lately. Are you saying you're not sad, but apathetic?"
Hector frowned slightly in confusion. "What?"
"Apathy." Quirin said. "It means a lack of feeling or interest." Hector nodded. That sounded right. "How long have you been feeling this?"
"I don't know." Hector said honestly. "Time is hard."
Quirin sighed and balled the fabric strip up before pushing it firmly against the wound. "You hurt yourself so you could feel something?" Hector nodded. "So it's not because you were trying to kill yourself?" Hector hesitated. Quirin took his unhurt hand and gave it a small squeeze. "Hector?"
"I thought about it." Hector said honestly. Quirin's breath hitched and Hector soon found his friend pulling him into a tight embrace. He didn't return it, but he didn't pull away either. "I don't want to be dead. Not really. But I don't want to be alive either."
"And doing things you like doesn't make it better?" Quirin asked.
"Makes it worse." Hector said. "I don't think I can be better."
Quirin was quiet for a long time before he pulled back from Hector to go back to treating his hand. "Did you ever feel like this with your dad?"
Hector thought back. He didn't like thinking about his time with his dad, but it was always in the back of his mind. "I don't think so." All he'd ever felt was hurt, fear, and occasional relief. Hector tried to think about it though, and he found his mind going to something. He hadn't felt this before, but he thought he'd seen it.
Years ago, when he was just a little kid. His mom had just died, and sometimes Hector wondered if his dad would soon do the same. There had been weeks where the man would barely get out of bed. He would barely eat, even when Hector brought the food right to him. When he did eventually start getting out of bed his dad would walk aimlessly around town, picking fights with anybody that so much as looked at him. When he came home he would just sit at the table and look at the wall. Not eating. Not talking. He didn't even take care of his injuries.
Hector hadn't understood it, and when his dad started to turn on him he'd almost forgotten about that first month or two completely. Hector shuddered as he started crying again. He was still feeling numb, but at the same time he felt an overwhelming fear. How could he feel both at the same time?
Was this what his dad had felt like? Endless nothingness that he would do anything to change? Is that why he had started picking fights in town? Is that why he had started hurting Hector in the first place? What if Hector ended up like that himself? What if he started treating somebody else like that?
Hector screamed and clung to Quirin, who seemed taken aback, but held him close rubbing his back.
"I-I don't want to be like him." Hector whimpered. "I don't want to be like this anymore, but I can't make it stop."
"Be like who?" Quirin asked?
"Dad." Hector said quietly. "I wasn't like this at home, but he was. What if it's in my blood?" Hector looked at his bloody palm like he was expecting it to attack him.
"You're nothing like your dad." Quirin said sternly. Hector usually trusted his words, because Quirin knew so much more than he did, but not this time. Quirin had never even met his dad before. He didn't know what he was like. How could he know that Hector wasn't just like him?
Hector shuddered. He didn't want to become angry and cruel like his dad, but he didn't want to be stuck in this numb nothingness for the rest of his life. "I just want it to stop."
Quirin rubbed Hector's arms. They just sat there for several long minutes in silence. Finally Quirin took the cloth away from Hector's palm to look at it, frowning when it bled just as much as before.
"You're probably going to need stitches." Quirin said. Hector didn't know exactly what that meant, but he knew that it involved seeing the doctor again. He didn't want that.
"Can't you just do it?" Hector asked.
"Not this time." Quirin said gently. I can bring the doctor here, if you want. You don't have to see anybody else."
"I don't want him here." Hector pouted. Quirin grimaced.
"The doctor has some medicine that puts you to sleep." Quirin said. "It would make the pain, and numbness stop."
Hector frowned. "But it will come back."
"Yes, it won't last." Quirin said. "But it's better than nothing, right?"
"I guess so." Hector said. Quirin ruffled his hair.
"I'll be right here with you when you wake up." Quirin said. "We can talk about this whole thing and figure something out, okay? You're going to be just fine, I promise."
Even if Quirin was right, Hector wondered how long it would last for. Would this apathy whatever thing just come back over and over again? Even when he was okay he would just be worried about when his feelings would break again.
Quirin got up from the bed and walked towards the door, though he kept on looking towards Hector, making sure he didn't do anything. Hector just curled up on the bed, burying himself in the blanket, not caring at all when he agitated his ear or hand.
Quirin opened the door to find Adira still waiting right outside. Hector ducked his head to hide from her attention.
"Adira, go get the doctor." Quirin said.
"Why?" Adira asked. "What's wrong with Hector?"
"I don't have time for this." Quirin said tensely. "Get me the doctor, and give me space."
"He's not just your friend." Adira snapped. "I care about Hector too."
"If you care about him then you'll go get the doctor." Quirin said. They were quiet for a bit before Adira huffed irritably and stormed off. Quirin sighed and returned to the bed. He sat down and pulled Hector to lay against him. He stroked his hair.
"What if I do end up like my dad?" Hector asked quietly. What if it was just a matter of time?
"I won't let that happen." Quirin said.
Hector closed his eyes. Quirin wasn't listening to him. "But what if I do? Will you stop me?"
"...Yeah, I'd stop you." Quirin said.
"No matter what?" Hector asked. He felt how tense his friend got. Hector rolled over to look at him. "Quirin?"
"Of course." Quirin gave him a small smile, and Hector relaxed. "No matter what." And Hector believed him, because his friend, his brother, wasn't a liar.