Title: Behind the Mask
Summary: Pewdie was sick of being the perfect person that he "apparently was." No one ever understood his feelings, not even Marzia or his parents. No one did. He hated the mask he hid himself under. Except maybe him. Maybe Cry did just a little. PEWDIECRY Warnings: Mad!Pewds, depression, slash
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day
You can't choose what stays and what fades away
Words crumbled from Pewdie's lips, like broken glass cracked beyond repair. He couldn't even make it out the own words that spilt from them, sounding more like a bow screeching terribly against the violin's strings. He slowly picked his arm from the soft surface and upward toward his face, so that it was in his line of view, blocking out the thin stream of light hitting his eyes.
Where am I?
Pewdie slowly peeled his eyes open, and felt the sudden urge to scream and cringe back into the darkness. There was too much light, too much pain. He wasn't suppose to be here, that was all he knew. That darkness, the sweet, peaceful darkness, felt right enveloping his body. Even if he only felt coldness prowl its fingers at his spine and leave his body numb and aching, it was so much better. Better than listening to the sounds of something that beat like a band drum slowly simmer down, staring at the wounds on his broken, cracked skin, warm blood pooling underneath his scream worthy pain throbbing at his chest.
"Felix.."
A tremor passed down his spine, and his eyes suddenly shot open, absorbing in all the light. The voice felt so familiar. It felt warm, comforting, even like home possibly. He wanted to envelop his body within the voice, sucking in every breath that gasped from the lips that carry such a sweet sound. Who are you? Who the fuck are you? He pushed himself off slowly, trying to grasp his field of view. His vision was merely a dark shade of grey, with streams of light following more streams of light. The world seemed so bright for a moment. Maybe it was bright. Maybe it was better, than how he left it. If the person who carried such an enchanting voice existed in this world, than it should be alright. There's nothing to worry about.
"D-Don't worry about it.." he managed to sputter from my lips, feeling chapped and dry, as his vocal chords struggled to make grasp of the words. He felt gentle, rain drops hit against his cheek, again and again, in between hitches of breath and shaky words. Pewdie forced a small smile on the corner of his lips, trying to focus on the person, with little success. He wanted to look the person in the eyes and absorb them into his mind, until the day death meets him again with greeting hands. Pewdie heard a brief cough, followed by one hand resting against his shoulder and the other gripping his hand way too tightly.
"I..thought..I lost you..there were no light..no light.." the voice sounded shaky and uncomprehensible, mixed with a bundle of emotions twisted and pulled at, unlike the soft, gentle feeling a second ago when the person spoke. "Your eyes were grey..t-there were no light in your eyes..you looked..so lifeless..so...I took care of her..so don't worry...okay...I.."
Care of who? Pewdie blinked, and finally managed to grasp his surroundings. The room was a pale, white colour, laid on top of him was a white, freshly pressed blanket, and white hospital machines surrounded about him. He trailed his vision slowly toward his hand, now empty and his fingers no longer intertwined with another. Who was the person referring to?
Marzia. My girlfriend, Marzia.
He cringed back at into the headboard of his hospital bed, underneath the thin duvet that raveled around his body. His stomach felt like an empty pit, dangling only a leaf of guilt and distress. Pewdie left Marzia. He left her to watch, as he was pulled into the ambulance and struggled onto the string of hope to live. He was a cruel man. He worried her, distressed her, kept her up at nights with thoughts of him. Him, a useless human being who was worth nothing. Worth not even a moment of thought.
"Wh-Why...am..I..at..the..hospital.." Pewdie felt his fingers clutch tightly at the hem of the duvet, furrowing his eyebrows, his cheeks turning into an angry flash of red. He left the world, and he didn't remember why. All he could see whenever he tried to remember, was blood, blood, blood, and more blood spilt among the floor, on his chair, on his webca-
Time was so slow.
So slow, breathing in every moment.
Hesitating at every inch of movement.
Laughing at the livestocks cry out toward the sky with no reply.
A distant, far look was in Pewdie's eyes, focused on the knife. He looked slightly prideful, as if he was proud for what he was about to do. Then, he took a deep breath, and clenched his empty hand into a brofist, the other busy aiming the knife toward his chest.
"Stay awesome bros. Mwa ha."
The knife pierced into his chest with a quick swish, time suddenly speeding back into its normal pace and blood instantly flew toward the webcam. With one thrust, he was engufled by darkness. Never to see another soul again. Never to see..
Finally you're awake. Good, I was getting quite tired waiting for you to wake up.
No, he couldn't be here. Not after that. He should have killed him, rid him of his existance for good when he let the knife stab through his chest, pierce through his flesh until it unraveled into red, sickly blood. But, Mad, he was part of him. He tightened his grip around his soul, twisting it with dark thoughts and prowled around it like hungry beasts begging for a source of meat. Pewdie's meat was his doubt, the guilt, the pain, the suffocation, the wish of him wanting to be gone from the world entirely. And he was alive to feed the beast what it wanted. Again.
"You should be fucking dead." Pewdie hissed, the words tasting venomous on his tongue, not that he wouldn't admit that he rather enjoyed the viciousness and the cruel taste of it.
If I were dead, you'd be a lying, pale corpse buried underneath feet of dirt and bacteria ready to feed on you. Either way, life doesn't sound so pleasant.
"I would rather have that than know that for the rest of my life, you'll be there."
You're such a cocky son of a bitch. I remember when you would listen to every word I said and nod quietly like the pathetic human being you were. Are you that persistent to live?
Pewdie closed his eyes, shaking his head, before shouting loudly, pulling himself to his feet, so that he was standing on his bed.
"I'm not persistent to live. I'm just persistent to win against you." Pewdie sighed, his words slowly trailing off. "I t-thought I would have you ended."
Think for a second Genius Pewds. Isn't that you always say? Genius Pewds strikes again. Just think. You'll get this.
Pewdie bit the inside of his cheek, the answer already swarming inside his mind. He lowered himself back onto the bed, arching his back so his head was leaned against the headboard, staring up at the blank ceiling, except for a fan in the middle of the room. It moved slowly, the wind brushing gently against his cheek. This wasn't how everything was suppose to be. Pewdie should have been dead, just like Mad. With a knife in its chest. With blood everywhere. That was how it was suppose to be. No more listening to Mad, no more hiding himself behind the happy persona he built for himself since long ago, no more crying silently at night. No more of any of it.
I don't want to be here.
I don't want to be in a world with Mad.
Where I have to wear this mask to protect myself.
I think I would just die.
He glanced toward a small, wooden chair, and an electrical cord dangling from the edge of the seat at the corner of the room, sitting mindlessly there. A grin curved on his lips and he pulled himself off his bed with little difficulty toward the objects. Lifting the chair up, he placed it underneath the fan, and after making sure the electrical cord was sturdy enough to be able to carry weight without having the whole ceiling fall with him, he stood up on the chair and tied it around his neck, attempting to nudge away from the bulky part constantly rubbing against his neck and chin. Well, anyway soon enough, it wouldn't matter.
I have a message to you. To him. To the world.
Pewdie's eyes widened, and he involuntairly tied the electrical cord tighter, that it was crushing his neck and he could barely breathe. As long as stood on the chair though, he wouldn't die. The words flashed before him like a dim light within a forest of swallowing, devouring darkness.
I don't really understand you. Your pain, your fears, your sadness, nothing really.
If I did, I would take it all away and let you be free from them.
But I can't. I can't take it away no matter how much I try.
Pewdie glanced down at the electrical cord wrapped around his neck, as the words continued to flash in his mind in silence. These words, they felt so comforting, as if they knew him. It wasn't Mad with his insulting, mocking voice that he was so used to hearing but an honest one with sincerity in his speech.
However, one thing I'll never stop trying.
A selfish thing for me to try.
Don't die.
I won't let you die.
Even if you scream and pull at me and try to jump off the building or tighten the rope.
And if you do jump off that building or tighten that rope, I'll follow you until the end.
So don't die.
Cause I won't let you die.
And give me some time to try.
To try and show you that there is a world worth living for.
After Cry managed to check on Marzia, whose tears were constantly rolling down her cheeks and nose never seemed to cease of sniffling, he went back into Pewdie's hospital room to see if the Swedish gamer was still fast asleep and resting. He looked so lifeless, the way his chest didn't even seem to breathe in the same air he breathed, his voice sounding so lifeless and silent. It had been a long morning to arrive to the United Kingdom, but when he managed to, he was instantly pulled into a taxi by Marzia, and they pushed the taxi driver to speed up toward the hospital Pewds was inhabited in. It had now been days since the event, but still, the first time he looked upon the blood, fresh and vibrant, pooled out of his skin, and his skin so pale like a porcelain doll, he wanted to puke and run out. But he simply watched, rubbing circles on Marzia's back, as she wept into her handkerchief and he attempted to avoid looking at the broken man.
He pressed his ear against the door, once he reached it. He heard the sound of footsteps, and the scraping of the chair against the floor. Was a doctor there..no wait. Could Pewdie possibly be considering..to kill himself again? This time..this time he wouldn't allow for Pewdie to die. Not like this. Not like this.
Not like this!
He opened the door with a swish and stopped quick in his track. Pewdie was sitting with his arms folded across his knees that were closed on his chest. His head was buried within his knees, crying loudly. An electrical cord was left hanging, tied to the fan, but luckily..luckily not with Pewdie's neck wrapped around it, dangling from the ceiling. Cry approached Pewdie carefully, making sure not to scare him into running away from him, and lowered himself so that they met eye to eye. He felt like he was talking to a child in a sense.
"Pewdie.." Cry murmured, placing his hand across Pewdie's hair and brushing it to the side. He repeated his Youtube name softly, "Pewdie.."
Pewdie's face shifted toward Cry's eyes and instantly he backed slightly into his chair, fear written all over. Cry sighed, realizing that the Swedish man had never seen his face. He probably thought he was a stranger, instead of a friend he had gained about a year ago through let's plays. "Pewdie..it's me.." he said, smiling slightly hoping that he would recognize his husky, deep voice. But inside, he was breaking watching his friend fall apart so awfully, so different from the smile that lifted happiness in his videos and in their co ops.
"W-Who are you?" Pewdie asked, tears still streaming down his face, though he looked slightly calmer. He was clutching to his knees, watching Cry with widened, teary eyes.
"My name..well you know who I am Pewds. I was the one..the one who gave you that nickname, remember? Pewds..cause it rhymes with pubes.." Cry couldn't help but laugh, remembering the responses he got after tweeting about how he created Pewdie's nickname, which even Pewds refer to himself as at times. Even if they didn't talk much at times with their own videos, he felt like that was the small, non breaking connection they had.
"C-Cry...?!" Pewdie's face uplifted, and he instantly wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his head within his shoulder, as he let out a short sob. Cry slightly winced from the sudden affectionate gesture, but made no effort to push back the Swedish gamer. He was just glad that he wasn't dangling from a cord in the air. He hugged Pewdie back, and rubbed small circles on his back, feeling his own tears swarm at his eyes.
"Th-thank you for..staying alive..."
Pewdie sniffled, his tears slowly decreasing, and he lifted his face away from Cry's shoulder and weakly smiled with as much sincerity as possible. "T-Thank you for being here.." the words felt weak in his throat, but he meant it. For it was Cry who came and protected him and let him cry on his shoulder in the end.
"I-It's nothing.." Cry said, his own weak smile hidden from the tears pooling from his eyes. "If you ever need me..just ask Pewds. You trust me, right?"
...
"Why don't you do the intro Cry?" Pewdie suggested, his eyes lit up, as he stared at the two characters, standing idly, waiting for the other player to speak. He didn't get to play with Cry for such a long time, and just the thought of hearing the other's voice again made his heart swell with happiness. He moved his character impatiently, pressing the annoyed emote button, to urge the other player. "Come on Cry."
"U-Um..I'll try." Cry coughed into the microphone, echoing a little too harshly. "How's it going bros? My name is PewdieCry. Welcome to..whatever the fuck this game is called. Screw names. Let's go play!" Pewdie laughed at the excitement built within the player's voice, unlike his gentle, husky voice that whispered against the microphone during his Cry Reads and normal playthroughs. He enjoyed the sound of it, making himself feel relaxed, immersed even. He enjoyed Co-Ops, especially with Cry, cause then, he didn't have to drift off into his thoughts like he did in his playthroughs. He could concentrate on Cry's voice and absorb in his words.
They scavanged around the world for a while, making a few remarks at the crappy graphics they traveled in, and chatting endlessly about the new game, The Last of Us, and their excitement to make a playthrough for it. He took constant sips of his Monster energy drink, laughing his ass off more than usual, letting his feet curl against the desk for a few moment, giving his webcam an odd appearance to stare at. He probably would get many comments replying on his odd position, but he was happy, enjoying himself in a world just with him and Cry. It was perfect. Perfect bliss where time seemed to speed at a crazy pace, running past the thoughts and memories. His voice..
"Hey Pewds, thanks for being a good friend. I thought I should say that.." Pewdie's eyes widened, diverting directly to the webcam and away from his Monster energy can. He smiled slightly toward the webcam, a blush slowly rising on his cheeks,
"Y-You too Cry. I'm glad we're friends."
"So if you ever need me, just ask. Alright friend? You trust me, right?"
Like that, time stopped short and each movement of his felt like a slug. He nodded slowly, biting his lower lip nervously. Sweat was dripping down his forehead, spilling from the bridge of his nose. He cracked a smile, the same one he used to greet the webcam, used in the direction of Marzia and his parents. The one that hid his emotions, thoughts, and feelings completely. A mask. It only took him a mere second to place the facade over his face, so used to the feeling of it being worn on him, but to him, it felt like an hour of preparation of having to know that he was yet again hiding behind his shell, and that with this, no one would ever understand him. Just like he wanted. At least, that was what he believed.
"I trust you. Of course. I'll r-remember your words."
What he thought sounded a bit like a nod, was followed by a "Great" and just like that, in the slowest minute he ever experienced, time raced back to its normal course, and they were playing and laughing again. But his feet was no longer perched against the desk in an awkward, yet comfortable position. It was rigid, standing underneath the desk, toes trembling, as he continued to wear the mask. Pewdie knew that no matter how comfortable he could get around someone, no matter how much he was in peace talking to them, in the end, he would always wear his mask.
With a nod, Pewdie pulled the mask up to his face and smiled and nodded, laughing mockingly to the world. "I'm so sorry Cry.." he murmured quietly to himself, underneath his breath and low enough to not be detected by the other gamer.
And everything that he was, is, and forever will be, will be hidden beneath the mask.
( Sorry for late update. I wrote the ending of this chapter but it got erased because my Dad's laptop is stupid, so I had to rewrite it. Plus, I revised a bit of the beginning part, but that too got..unrevised. So yeah, hardships. But I hope you enjoy. Happy Birthday Pewdie and Marzia by the way! /thisistheworsthappybirthdaytothemomfg but I did draw some fan art for them or I'm DRAWING them for a belated gift...Anyway...please review, favourite, and follow! Motivates me! )