XIV. Cozy
-—Sloth thinks he would be different if he weren't so tired.
Sloth doesn't remember a time when he wasn't tired.
He thinks that if he weren't so exhausted all the time, he'd be different. Maybe he'd be a ruthless killer, like Pride. Maybe he'd be smart and cruel and cunning, like Lust. Maybe he'd even be rebellious and leave, like Greed.
(He doesn't think about this for too long, though, because thinking is too much of a bother.)
He's been digging for years—for decades, maybe—because that's what his Father ordered him to do. Somewhere, beneath the fatigue and the half-asleep thoughts that don't ever make much sense, he knows he feels some sort of allegiance to his Father. Maybe he's even fond of him. He's not sure though, because Homunculi aren't supposed to feel anything but hatred and he knows kinship is the opposite of that. So he never says anything about it.
He's alone, anyway, most of the time; Pride comes down to make sure his progress is sufficient, but he has seen nobody else in such a long time…
(Maybe they're not real. Maybe he's made them up—which is another thing Homunculi aren't supposed to be able to do: imagine—or maybe they've already failed, and he's working for nothing.)
He doesn't know, so he keeps on digging, because that's all he does anymore and maybe, finally, the circle will be complete.
Maybe, then, Father will finally let him sleep forever.
But years and years and years spent underground, digging a tunnel the size of a country for the Father he's not supposed to love…those years have allowed him rare moments of clarity, when the exhaustion slips away, ever so slowly, bit by bit, and his fogged brain clears just enough for him to think.
He thinks that they might be wrong. He thinks that he doesn't like to die, so maybe others don't as well; maybe they shouldn't be doing this to other creatures that are so clearly alive. He thinks that his brothers can be cruel for no reason, and he thinks that he doesn't want to be like them if he ever wakes up.
(He thinks that maybe this is all a haze induced by his never-ending exhaustion, and maybe everything he knows is a lie because his mind is simply shutting down.)
But before he can ever think about this for very long, before he can bring it up with Pride during his rare visits, another wave of fatigue always sweeps through. He dozes off momentarily before snapping awake, sluggishly returning to work because Father won't be happy if I don't
(but what does it matter, if they're not supposed to have emotions)
and what was I thinking about again? because he can't remember anymore.
He digs and digs and digs and does everything his Father asks, but sometimes in the back of his mind he wonders and he thinks and he forgets but still he isn't sure.
(And in the end, he never finds out.)
