THE SECOND STANDARDISED PERMUTATION OF ROMAN ANTZ (Jacky and Invisimort)

THIS EXISTS.

Bells

I cried. I admit it. Me, proud me, couldn't hold back tears in front of him. And I screamed for him to stop, and I fought, like a child. I didn't forget the look on his face; he had this smile that was disgusted at me and proud at himself, like I was . . . garbage. I wasn't an Outlander . . . but under that gaze, I became one.

Well . . . my face stung, like Hell. I could feel blood run in thick streaks down my skin, and what remained of my chopped-off hair stuck to my cheeks in red-stained strands. The burning gashes trailed around my jaw, down to my shoulders, curling around my arms . . . forming carvings of eyes and other symbols that I didn't recognise.

I curled over myself, clamping down on my lip to keep myself from sobbing too hard. He hadn't cut anything off, which served as one hope for me: he still loved me. I could go back to him tomorrow, and everything would be fine . . . I'd say I was sorry, and he would love me again, and I could just be beautiful again.

I would have the scars forever.

Another sob whelled in my chest, and I clenched myself tighter, like perhaps I could dissapear.

T.Mor:

So... I was unsure of whether or not she'd be there today... since... since all the ....uhm... I mean, I knew she had trouble cos of... of... Skelet... and... like... it... yeah. I mean... ...I understood completely that she had to keep it all... kinda... not talked about... and... and if he wanted to do something or something, she could not show up at all... and... ...I mean.... that... that would be ok...

...but...uhm... walking into the box...and... and ....seeing... seeing this... I... Oh Internet. Gah. How... how... Part of me wanted to shoot him in the foot... because, I mean... who else could have...

...she... she was bleeding... ...Oh no no no...that... blood... blood was... bad. Like... so... bad...

I went right over there and sat down.... feeling kind of mad... and... and like... like I wanted to help... but also completely useless... because this was... like... I didn't have enough socks.... and... oh Internet...I... this... it... Oh...

"Bells... ... ...are... is... uhm... what...?" Well... that... englished. I moved between staring at her gore... and... and not staring at her at all... like... Part of me wanted to not look at her because it was her... bleeding... but the other part was like.. trying to sort out...how to like... do... fix... and... I just... it... I... "Are... are... what happened? ...Are...are you....ok? " ...stupid question. Completely stupid. ...but...I... it.... gah.

Bells

I flinched at someone's voice. I didn't want to see anyone, not like this, not now. Without Skelet, I had nothing left . . . nothing. He was my security, my home. When his arms wrapped around me, I was perfect. And now . . . ?

Was I okay.

My face burned as I suppressed another sob, one more tear stinging all the way down my cheek. It was stained red by the time it dripped from my chin to my hands. Was I okay? I was completely shattered, thrown out like trash, like I was some Outlander . . . Pft. Was I okay. I almost laughed.

Instead, I curled up tighter. I didn't care who the speaker was, as long as he didn't touch me.

T.Mor:

She... didn't... say... anything. Just... curled up more... ...

I... ...Didn't know... what to do. I... I wanted to help. ...She was all... how she was...and that was bad because Bells was nice and I wanted to help

I silently went about untying my boots so I could get at my socks... It... it wouldn't be enough... ..but....she was nice...and I didn't want...bad things... and... I didn't... she was bleeding and... ...and...

"...can... can I.... ...try... ...to... make it... ... ...less...bad?" I finally asked, having the socks all...not on my feet... and all... like... yeah. '

...I was worried... because... because.... she was all how she was... and also kinda mad... because someone made her...like that... ...and... it... wasn't right and she was like that and...

Bells

Wait a moment. I knew that voice.

I sniffled and wiped at my face, feeling utterly disgusting, and winced when that stung. I turned my head just slightly. Didn't want him seeing too much of my eyes, with that old tattoo, just another reminder among all the angry slashes of where I'd come from. And where I wouldn't be going back.

No, I had to go back . . . I couldn't stay there alone. I had to have Skelet. He was safe, and this . . . but that Outlander. He offered to help. But what could he do?

I snapped my gaze back down when I felt more tears whell in my eyes. "...No...I'm fine." I didn't sound fine.

T.Mor:

... .. ...She didn't...SOUND fine... ...I mean... she was bleeding and... and it was all bad.

...ok, bleeding isn't a noise. ...But... you know what I mean.

"... ...I... ...I have socks... uhm, If.... I mean... I just... this... isn't... uhm.... fine." I said uncertainly. I wanted to help... but... she didn't seem to like... want it... but... she was bleeding... which was bad... and... she was too nice to be bleeding... and... I just.... it.. I... uhm.

Bells

. . . socks?

I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to die and rot in a ditch and go to hell. Because that's all I had left for me, was hell. That's all I was supposed to want, now. I'd cheated on Skelet, and this was my pay. " . . . Why are you trying t' 'elp me."

I could cover up my scars. Run off with some other guy, and be safe for a while . . .

But I'd be out on the streets as soon as they saw my scars. No man wants to be tied to another man's trash.

T.Mor:

"...because... because you're nice... ...and... and... bleeding... and that... shouldn't be... like... how it is..." I would have thought that that would be kind of... obvious... but... apparently... not.

I just sat there, holding my socks... wanting to..like, do something... but all like... well... how... how I am... and stuff... I mean, I wasn't going to... to force her to get helped... but... I wanted to help...

Bells

I restrained the urge to sniffle again. That's the most pathetic sound that a person can ever make when they don't want anyone's help. Even harder to resist was the urge to scratch at the gashes, as if that would make the pain stop.

. . . Eventually, I had to give in. To the sniffling. My voice sounded much shakier than I would have liked, right down to the jolting little hiccups. "I don't-- need you, 'ere." But then, I felt like I was lying. So I changed it up a bit. "I-- don't want you 'ere. You don't 'ave to, just . . . don't pay attention t' me, a'right?"

I was feeling dizzy from all of this. It was all too fast.

T.Mor:

... ...that... kind of... stung. ...She...she... didn't... want me here...

uhm.

"...but...you're... bleeding... ..." ...I... ...I just... wanted to... to help... but... she was being all... like this. "...it... I... I don't... like... it... when... when... bleeding... happens... ...to.. to people... ..." Especially people I care about...

... But... she... she said she...she didn't... want me here...

I... I didn't know.. what... what to...do. So I kind of just stared... feeling completely... useless... I wanted to help... but... she... she didn't... want me around...

...whatdo.

Bells

But why did he care? What did I matter to him? I never did anything for him. He was just a pet, and now . . . what was he to me? A reminder. Of why I was here, why I was bleeding to death in that hellhole. And he wouldn't leave me be.

But then, he was also, perhaps, the only thing I had left. No one else cared. Why should he? My lips quivered around air, trying to find the right words. When I did find them, they sounded small. " . . . Why? I-- I don't . . . understand, why you . . . why?"

T.Mor:

Her words were all... quiet... and... like... not really how she'd talked before... but that kind of made sense because she was... all... how she was...

I paused for a moment before answering her. "...Because... ... because... you're...nice... and... nice people... ...shouldn't... shouldn't be like... ...like how you are... with all the...like.... ...uhm...blood... and... and... that... and... and friends don't let... friends bleed out... on.. on the floor... and... and..." I felt like I was getting kinda ranty... and kinda not making sense, so I stopped talking after a bit.

I waited...watching her...all... concernedly.

Bells

Why didn't I want him to help me, again?

There were a few reasons, but I'm not sure which one is the most right. Part of me wanted to die. I wanted to die alone. I didn't want to die fighting: I wanted it to be a choice. I didn't want anyone to pity me, and I refused to believe someone would if they had the chance.

Friends? Was he a friend?

You know what? Hell to it all. I didn't care. If he wanted to help, I'd let him come over and help. I'd live with someone or die with someone, and that thought was beautiful. If he ran away . . . Aye. Let the Outlander run. I'd die as planned.

So . . . I waited.

T.Mor:

I sat there for a few more minutes... not sure... like... what to... to do... I mean... She hadn't... said anything...

...I wanted to help.. but... ...I didn't want her mad at me... I mean... I didn't want her to be mad...

I hesitantly reached out for her hand... trying to like... like... ignore the blood... ignore... her blood... she was bleeding... and.. and started with the first sock...

... It wasn't going to be enough socks... I didn't think... ...

Bells

I winced, but didn't draw my hand away. Clenched my jaw, cried some more. I never gave him any way to know if I wanted him to continue or not, because I didn't know the answer. Maybe I would die. I kind of wanted to.

T.Mor:

...I... I kept... going uncertainly... I mean... she was kind of... in... pain.. I mean... you could... see it... in her face...

I didn't know... what to do...

"uhm... ... am... am I hurting you...? I... I'm sorry... uhm... but... ...I... you... ...this... bleeding isn't... ...isn't good..." I kind of continued going at the whole... sock thing... because... I didn't want to like...have her be...all... dead...

Don't think about that don't think about that don't think about that don't think about that...

Bells

I shook my head, though every gash bit with the lightest touch. And I just let him. What did it matter?

T.Mor:

...she shook her head...so... so I kept going... and...and then... and then I was out of socks...

...but... there... there was still so much... blood... everywhere... agh...

"...I'm... I'm out of... of socks... so... uhm... if... if I go... go get.... ...more... ...will... will you.... stay... here...and... and... uhm...not... ...not die...?" I asked.... nervously.

Bells

. . .

How would I even answer that? If he left . . . how could I promise not to die? I had no idea if I even wanted him to leave. Which is worse: the sting of dying alone, or the literal sting of being touched by some kid-that-started-it-all trying to help, knowing that no one else in the world cares if you're dead or alive?

"I-- I don't know."

T.Mor:

...well... Now.... Now I was... was having a confliction... and... and... Like... I didn't want to leave her here... but... at the same time... I didn't want to sit here with her while she... while she... bled out... ...

"... uhm... ...ok then..." I said quietly, and just kind of sat there.

...I wondered if I could like...put an arm around her or something... because I mean... hugging is kind of... like... sorta what happens when bad things happen... ...but she had just said that she didn't want me here... but... she didn't seem mad at me now... I don't think... but... I didn't want to hurt her...

I kind of scooted over so I was sitting next to her instead of in front of her.

Bells

Well. Apparently, I was living.

Perhaps.

And just like that, the fight was over. I let myself crumble into him, burying my head in a bony chest.

T.Mor:

And then... suddenly... her head... was...was... on me. ...her head. On... on me. Which... also meant she was bleeding on me... which was kind of sticky... ...but that was ok... because... I mean really... where I work... it kind of...gets... yeah... and... and... I mean it was her blood instead of some... ...random... guy's... ...blood.

...I... I guess... that that this meant... that... that she did... want me... here... which was... really... nice... like... I mean... I... I... she wanted me here...

... ...I think.

I put my hand on her shoulder... ...but I felt like I had to be really careful...because I mean... she was all... a mess and all... and I really wanted to go get her... more socks... but... but I said I'd stay... ...kind of... and... like... she was all... how she was... and... like... it was... yeah...

So I kind of just sat there... with her... and she bled all over me... and... it wasn't good... but... like... maybe... just... slightly... less... bad?

Bells

Something stung me, just lightly, on my shoulder. I didn't care. I didn't care at all about anything, not even the fact that I was sobbing, which also stung, or that I was getting dizzy, which took the edge off of it. He wasn't very warm or very big or very sheltering, but why not? He would let me cry into him. I didn't care. I would let myself.

T.Mor:

... ...What am I suppoused to do...? ... I mean... ... I... it... She was all... crying and like... I couldn't do anything... and... and... it... ...I didn't want her to die... ...but... I couldn't like... leave her here.... ...but... I mean... like...

I kinda just... held her...and... and like... I didn't know what to do... and... gah... this... this was so...

"... ...Sorry... ..." I mumbled...because... I don't know. I was sorry I was hurting her...? I was sorry... for... for like... being the person who got her in a place where this... this... yeah? ... Sorry for... for not having more socks... ...I... it... Sorry for... for... existing...? If... If that was... I mean... I.. I don't know... I just wanted everything to be less bad and... like... not... bleeding and... and... yeah...