I got some inspiration for another chapter. WOO. I'm sorry it's so short.

I do not own anything.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

He sobbed, gasping, shaking, crying, hating. He thrashed, tearing skin from his arms as he hugged himself, biting back the screams. The pain of being himself. Because he wasn't anybody at all. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he couldn't live—because he hated everybody—I just wanted to be normal, you know? He wanted to see a bright side, a side where—oh, god, dead, dead, dead—he had friends, he had people he could trust.

Nobody. Nobody, brother, there's no one—

What's with that look, Kyntak?

I'M JUST AFRAID—

Please don't leave me, you're all I have—

Whoamiwhoamiwhoamiwhoamiwhoa miwhoami—

Stop.

Just stop.

Everything.

I WANT IT TO STOP.

He did. He really did. Was it so bad to hate that he was alive? Was it so bad to wish he didn't hate himself enough to injure himself every night, thrashing with nightmares and cutting into his own skin with terror at the thought of breathing, of taking anymore air into his lungs?

He screamed, roaring with terror at himself. He had nobody.

Except his brother. His wonderful, amazing brother. Who did nothing but love and protect and give up everything for him. Six groaned, moaning in pain—but it felt good, he was alive now, right?—tears staining the bed. Blood too, bloodbloodbloodbloodbloodblo odblood—

No. No. No. No. He couldn't think about it.

What did his brother see in him? He was cold, unemotional, distant. He couldn't make friends. He couldn't love anybody. He couldn't even protect the people he had an obligation to defend. But that's what this was, wasn't it? An obligation. An obligation to fight. An obligation to defend. An obligation to live. Why did he need to fight so much for these things that made him hurt so god damn much?

Fucksakes, it hurt. It really did. He closed his eyes, panting, crying, scratching, clawing, dying, living, hurting, aching, hating, screaming, sobbing. He hated everything.

But the one person he couldn't hate, his brother, Kyntak, he was always there. Maybe he did love his brother. What did it feel like? He wasn't sure. But his chest ached at the thought of him dying, or even being hurt at all. It lightened just a little bit when he came around, although sometimes his cheeriness was so god damned annoying and he really did, then. He really loved his brother. So much.

"S-S-S-Six?"

He froze, the tears freezing. His brother's voice, in the doorway.

NONO—NOT HIM—NONONONONONONONONONONONONONO NONONONONONONONONONONONONONO NONONONONONONONONO—

There ya go. It's so short :'( but whatevs. Review any ideas for future chapters, please. Or it may never get done.