Rage became an uncomfortably familiar feeling to him in the past two years or so. He's becoming increasingly unstable as time goes by and his triggers grow in number with every week that passes. Tord is incredibly amused, Tom less so.

Originally it's all about Edd. Of course, everything's about Edward Gold's traitorous ass nowadays, isn't it? Leader of the fucking revolution, whoop-dee-doo. The mention of a name in sidelined conversations, a flash of green and brown, and he can feel his bitter anger burning him up from the inside out.

Then Edd shoots out his eye and things... are different. His previous reassurance that the metal prosthetic on his jaw doesn't diminish his worth is gone (it was gifted to him by Edd, with kind eyes and a gentle smile that told him everything was okay and he wasn't any less beautiful for it, of course it's gone). Suddenly the whispers around him gain in volume and grab his attention. The Cyborg Lieutenant, it's said in jest. With a metal jaw and a cybernetic eye, how broken must he be, what shall he break next, what on earth makes him so assured of his own looks.

He's a broken freakshow for everyone to gawk at and it's all Edd's fault, really. Because if he didn't start the revolution or if he was smarter about it maybe his jaw could've been spared, or saved, a few scars instead of a metallic maw. But no, because Edd charges in without thinking and it usually works out for him. Because his harebrained plans get people hurt or killed but at least they succeed, right?! Because Edd started a movement with no resources at his disposal and never cared to fix that.

And now he's ruined Matt's eye as well and the Red Army doesn't do aesthetically pleasing and natural, they do intimidating and weaponized so of course he gets a shiny new laser eye that he absolutely hates. And now he knows what people think because for once he actually listens to those around him and their ugly, poisoned words.

His rage builds and blazes like a raging forest fire. He becomes snappish and moody, more prone to aggression. It builds and builds until it manages to blind him. Sometimes he blacks out for a moment or two and wakes up in a wrecked room (sometimes it's a wrecked person).

The first time he kills someone in a blind rage it's one of the prisoners he's been given by their oh so gracious leader to feed on. Usually he's careful not to take too much. If he can't feed humanely then he can at least take care of his food source (and the blood is so warm so warm so sweet ahhhh it slides smoothly down his throat so fresh). But this prisoner is new, a revolutionary, and catches Matt in a terribly foul mood as he enters the cell to feed. He recognizes him obviously, hard to forget his leader's (third)second-in-command and lover, and he spews vitriol in Matt's face like he was born for it, throwing accusations of betrayal like candy on Halloween, and he takes them with a mere growl because he has to control himself.

And then he says

"I don't know why he took you, when you look like that. Though hey, the new eye's almost an improvement."

And Matt freezes, fangs hovering over a restrained arm.

Something snaps.

He wakes up soaked and sticky and soooooo sweet the whole cell smells delicious and there's barely a body left bone and flesh and splatters and no no no no no no no no

No.

He had no time to lose himself in flashbacks. That wasn't him, he'd gotten better, that wasn't him. His rage was gone, suppressed, faded, replaced with dull bitterness and exhaustion. The anger was tempered, had been for years. The red red red of bloodflames had been replaced with stale gray. He was made of dullness and melancholy now.

stOP

BrEathE

He could feed and not lose control. He could take insults and not lose control. He wasn't made of anger, there was no forest to set ablaze anymore. There was nothing to blind him.

Then what was that before?

Was he going to kill MArk tOo?

WOuld hE aTtaCk edD?

He took a deep breath, cringing slightly at the many unpleasant scents of the city that filtered into his nose.

Wasn't it Edd's fault anyway?

No no no no this Edd was young so young so sweet and so was Mark, asshole or not, they were so young, they had done nothing to-

And Edward?

They'd talked they'd talked there'd been apologies and maybe some forgiveness he was so tired of being angry why cOuldN't he JusT sToP-

He ran like he ran from his problems and his feelings and his fears and his anger that should have been dead long gone and buried

"almost an improvement"

The blazing flames in his veins had been doused, the almost fearful look on younguntaintedEdd's face had been too much. He had to flee had to get away it shouldn't be back but it was and he didn't know where he stood didn't know what he wanted but he didn't want to hurt them never never

"might actually be an improvement"

He didn't know where he was, the most remembered of this city were ruins, he was running blindly, sight blurring at the edges, breath coming in short gasps.

And suddenly there was a hand around his wrist, thin and freckled, and he flinched and struggled to free himself but it clamped down and he couldn't bring himself to look up into eyes that he knew would be red fading back into blue he wouldn't let go-

"-atthew! Please listen to me, you need to calm down!"

Calm down? Calm down.

Matthew didn't think he could calm down.

He backed himself into- a wall? An alley? When did he get here? Still he didn't look up, eyes shutting tightly instead. Another bout of pleas has him shaking his head, pressing his back further into the bricks behind him.

Then he felt another hand around his other wrist, a different hand, thicker and rougher, but keeping his arm in a gentle hold.

"Matthew, please look at me." said another familiar voice.

He shook his head vehemently once again.

A small sound of frustration and suddenly there was yet another hand on his coldmetalironchin, lifting it up even as he refused to open his eyes.

"Look at me." it was said calmly and assertively, and the sheer nostalgic familiarity of the tone prompted his eyes to open to the sight of two very concerned young men. "There you go." Edd murmured soothingly, the hand on his wrist rising to gently grasp his upper arm even as Matt's hold on him loosened.

"Matthew, breathe." said the ginger, and with a start he realized he'd been holding his breath. He released it in one shaky huff and inhaled deeply.

"Are you in control of yourself?"

All three of them startled at the voice, looking to the side to find Thomas standing a few feet apart from Edward and Tom, reassembled gun in hand and pointed directly at his head (the gun trembled, his hands shook, but he refused to acknowledge it).

Matthew stared numbly into his distressed, electric green scowl, he stared down the crystalline barrel of the gun, and gave a shaky nod. Thomas immediately dropped his arm with a sigh, shoulders drooping in relief.

(His hands still shook, they trembled terribly, but he ignored them still.)

And now that Matthew actually looked at them all, Edd, Tom and Thomas were panting slightly. They... they'd all chased after him?

Edward looked terribly uncertain and at his side Tom just looked as worried as the other two younger men.

"Are you alright?" which brought him back to these two, looking up into his face with seemingly all the concern the world had to offer. Matthew's shoulders sagged.

"...sorry."

Edd frowned, "That's not an answer."

Matthew stayed silent. Matt gave Edd a look, which made him sigh and back up slightly, releasing his arm. A slight tug on his other arm had him walking after Matt in silence, Thomas trailing worriedly close behind him (he'd almost call it hovering if that wouldn't earn him a shot to the leg).

The walk back was awkward and long, the silence between them stilted as both Edd and Matt occasionally shot him worried looks and he could feel the other three staring holes into his back.

But when they got home (and he was careful not to look to the neighbours' house) he was just gently shoved onto the sofa and wrapped in a blanket, two warm bodies taking place beside him as someone shoved some hastily made tea into his hands.

As everyone else settled around the living room in expectant quiet, he stared down into his mug.

"I thought this stopped years ago." Thomas finally pointed out.

"It did." he replied numbly.

Thomas sighed, "So why did you have everyone freaking out about snapping and threatening to suck Mark dry?" he said with all the tact of an elephant. Matthew flinched but didn't answer, busy suppressing memories that were threatening to resurface. Thomas ran a hand through his hair and sighed again, "You didn't hurt anyone, that's what's important." he offered, trying to restore some semblance of calm.

Matthew found it odd that no one else had spoken up, and a subtle look around the room revealed burning questions on all their faces, left unasked for his sake. He took a sip of his scalding tea and basked in the warmth at his sides for as long as he could, because he didn't know if he'd be able to provide answers once they inevitably asked.

AN:

sooooooo i got a lot of not entirely positive shocked reactions to the endingof last chapter, which i can totally understand because it took me by surprise too
here's my brain's overnight attempt to justify and clarify i guess

much like last chapter this chapter feels a bit off. oh well

your comments were pretty helpful yesterday! please keep 'em coming, they give me motivation and inspiration! also talk to me on tumblr! I'm Lunahras over there too