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rainoverthemountains · 5 years

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Twist story chapter 9

Twistfell and everything associated with it belong to @itsladykit

Summary: There’s a cure for LV (probably). It’s completely safe (probably). It’s a highly unpleasant experience (definitely). Twist only cares about that first statement. He probably should have paid a little more attention to the other two. But what does it matter? He’s getting what he wants, and he has the best friends and family in any universe to help along the way.

chapter 1, chapter 8

chapter 9

“shit!” Cash jerks back at Twist’s sudden scream. “twist? what’s wrong?!” Twist just screams again, writhing on the bed like he’s trying to escape pain without a source. Frantically, Cash checks him, but is interrupted by Iggy racing into the room.

“Don’t worry about his stats. He’s fine. The monitor will tell us if there’s a problem.”

“he’s obviously not fine. what’s happening?” Cash snaps, keeping his focus on Twist, who hasn’t stopped screaming and is struggling to pull his arms free.

“I know it looks bad, but everything’s fine. This is a normal part of the treatment. He’s ok!”

“normal? you mean this happens all the time?! tell me right now what the fuck is happening or i swear i’ll-”

“He’s ok! This is supposed to happen! It’s just the medicine reaching an LV node. It comes and goes like this all the time. This was all in my report. I swear he’s fine!

“you have a strange definition of fine,” Cash growls. Reminding himself that Twist is more important than arguing with Iggy, he turns back towards the skeleton he won’t usually admit is his friend, but then stands awkwardly by the bed as he realizes he has no idea how to help. What can he do? What would help, and what would make it worse? He doesn’t know enough about this treatment, and Iggy doesn’t seem to care. Twist continues pulling on his restraints, his cries becoming desperate, yanking at the straps and sobbing when he can’t escape. This is what it looks like when the treatment is working the way it’s supposed to? It looks like Twist is breaking into pieces.

As Cash watches helplessly, Twist becomes more desperate, more terrified, each time he fails to move his arms, to the point that the shifts between pain and terror are visible with each attempt to escape. Finally, Cash has had enough.

“last chance. is there a single reason, relevant to the actual treatment and not you being pissed that he’s not a passive little sweet piece, that he needs to have his arms tied down?”

“Of course there is, or I wouldn’t have done it. He keeps trying to get out of bed and falling on the floor, which is really bad for his joints, and he scratched up his chest and constantly takes out the monitor wires, which could put him in serious danger if his HP drops. I wouldn’t restrain a patient for no reason.”

“what part of that couldn’t be managed if you’d just bothered to keep someone in the room with him?”

“What did you expect, a full-time nurse? Your donations helped, but research is expensive and I��m not going to waste money on something that could be done in a more cost-effective manner.”

“so the only reason is economic?”

“Well sort of, but also basic practicality and common sense, which-”

“shut up.” There’s no reason for this. She turned this whole treatment into fucking torture for no reason at all but to save herself a little effort and a little cost. He’d have given her more money, double, triple, whatever the fuck she needed to avoid doing this to the one person he was trying to help. His working eye socket burns, but he ignores it, because Twist is still screaming, and some of that’s the treatment but some of it is from being shoved back into the same shithole he came from because some self-righteous bitch thought she should be the one to decide what he needed and then went on a power trip. The world is shit and Cash sure isn’t making it any better, but right now Twist needs these fucking straps off his fucking arms.

Cash’s fingers shake as they work at the ties. They’re not that thick. He could probably just tear them, but that would pull on Twist’s wrists and Twist looks like he’ll come apart at the slightest pressure, physical or mental. Nothing is helped by Iggy’s angry protests.

“What are you doing?! Don’t let him loose, I just told you what he’ll do. And besides that, he’ll probably attack you. His go-to response whenever he freaks out is to dig his claws into my arm. You think you’ll do any better? I’ve been taking care of him all week and he treats me like that. You haven’t even been here. Are you even listening to me?”

Cash is not listening to her. In fact, he’s tuning her out. If he doesn’t, he’s going to attack her himself. He almost has one knot free. As it loosens, he prepares for whatever Twist might do. Whatever it is, he’ll deal with it.

Twist does grab Cash’s hand as soon as his own is free to move. For a moment it feels like he might dig in and try to break something, but then Twist’s sockets open wide and he stares at Cash. It’s easy to see the moment recognition sets in, because the claws digging into Cash’s wrist relax, though not enough to let go completely. Now it’s more like he’s clinging, holding onto Cash’s hand for some connection to the world outside of the pain. Almost instinctively, Cash shifts Twist’s grip until Twist’s hand rests in his. Twist whispers, “Thanks, Patches,” before once again being overtaken by pain, and Cash feels like he’s finally helping.

That is, until he feels Iggy’s stare on his back. At that, Cash is struck by how this must look, him gently holding Twist’s hand, letting Twist cling to him for comfort. He feels a blush rising on his cheekbones and yanks his hand away. Twist shrieks at the sudden movement and then whimpers at the loss of contact. Steadfastly ignoring Twist’s distress, Cash unties the other arm.

Twist does not reach for Cash once his other arm is freed, either to claw his arm or to hold his hand. Instead, he struggles to curl himself into a little ball, then lays shivering and whimpering in the middle of the bed. He looks helpless, and utterly miserable, and suddenly Cash doesn’t care about how it might look and takes Twist’s hand again. His glare dares Iggy to comment, but she doesn’t. There’s a strange look on her face as Twist begins to calm again, clasping Cash’s hand with both of his own and bringing it up to press against his face. Heat radiates from Twist, but Cash is not going to pull away again. They stay like that until Twist begins to quiet and still, seeming to drift to sleep. Cash hopes that means this attack is over, but then the monitor blares.

Iggy grabs something from a cabinet and pushes past Cash to get to Twist. “Get out of the way!” Twist weakly snarls as Iggy breaks his grip on Cash’s hand, then his mouth opens in a silent scream as Iggy pushes him onto his back and pulls out his soul. Cash can’t help a shudder of revulsion at the way she yanks the soul out of its place and shoves a needle into it, but he knows what this is for. Oh fuck, he knows the only thing that might be injected into a soul after the treatment starts, and that’s purified magic, which means Twist’s HP dropped dramatically, which means he could have died while Cash held his hand and didn’t do a single thing. Not only did he pay for the project to get far enough along for Twist to get involved, but he almost let Twist dust right in front of him. Why does he try to help? It only ruins everything.

But there’s no time for self-pity, because Twist is convulsing as the new magic tries to integrate in a system that can’t even handle its own magic. The infusion is pure magic, stripped of all the identifying markers that could cause rejection in a compromised system, so he should be fine, no, he’ll definitely be fine. He’s already settling, and with the new magic he seems more alert. How completely idiotic to assume that reacting less meant that Twist was getting better. Cash is clearly not cut out for taking care of anyone. But he’s all Twist has for now, so he’ll have to be good enough.

Twist doesn’t seem to blame him. When the convulsions stop, the hand nearest to Cash continues to move, opening and closing like it’s trying to grasp something. With no hesitation this time, Cash takes Twist’s hand in his own. Iggy just shakes her head and walks off. She’s actually weirdly subdued, but Cash couldn’t begin to care less about her feelings.

After a few minutes, Twist’s sockets open again. His eye-light darts around like it’s searching for something, then stops when it finds Cash. “Patches?” His voice is barely a whisper. He probably needs water after screaming that much, and who knows what that much heat does to anything near his soul.

“iggy!” Cash yells. “bring something he can drink.” Then he returns his attention to Twist, who is still trying to talk.

“Yer still here.” Twist smiles faintly as he says it, but then he starts to cough. It’s a quiet cough, but his face is scrunched in pain and his hands clench around Cash’s. Every inhalation is a struggle, sounding like he’s breathing through a straw and frequently interrupted by coughing. He can’t possibly be getting enough air. Asphyxiation is not one of the reported side effects. Is this normal for him?

“iggy!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Oh shit!” Iggy practically leaps across the room when she sees how poorly he’s breathing. “Help me move him! We need him on his back with his spine at a 45 degree angle. It’ll help him breathe better and make it easier to drink. Cold water reduces the irritation and opens the airway.”

“how were you not prepared for this?”

“I was prepared, I just didn’t have the water right by the bed because of all the commotion today. He doesn’t usually get this bad, but it’s not as bad as it looks, either.” As Twist continues to gasp for air in the new, upright position, body shaking as he strains to cough, Cash doubts that. “He gets this all the time. It’s from the heat and the screaming. Water always fixes it.” He seems more likely to choke on water than drink it, but Cash has no other suggestions so he doesn’t object when Iggy shoves a straw in Twist’s mouth.

“Come on, come on, drink,” she mutters. Twist’s eye-light drifts towards her, and his mouth starts to close around the straw, but he coughs again before he can drink anything and his sockets close. “Oh no you don’t. Drink!” His sockets jerk open and his eye-light locks on her. “That’s it, stay with me. Drink. You can do it.” The tone sounds more threatening than encouraging to Cash, but either way, something must get through, because Twist manages to get a small amount of water into his mouth. For a moment it seems like they’ve made it, but then Twist gags, losing most of the water and choking on the rest, spitting out the straw. “Fuck, I knew that would find some way to come back to bite me,” she says. Is that a hint of self-recrimination in her voice? What’s that about? Something to look into when Twist can breathe.

“twist!” Twist’s eye-light darts towards Cash as he speaks. “you need to drink.” The eye-light goes out. “i need you to drink.” It doesn’t re-light, but his mouth opens, accepting the straw. At the same time, he shies away from Iggy, so Cash takes the drink from her. “let me try it. back off.”

Twist is still struggling to breathe, but he tries to keep the straw in his mouth now that Cash is holding it. Keeping his voice perfectly calm, Cash encourages him again, using the wording that helped a moment ago. “i need you to drink, twist. come on, i need you to drink.” Twist takes another drink in a break between coughs, but loses it when he coughs before he can swallow. His gaze darts to Iggy again.

“ignore her, focus on me. i need you to drink. just try again.” He takes another drink, this time managing to get some of it down. The results are immediate. After one deep, gasping breath, he sucks down the whole cup. The cough doesn’t return.

“More?” Twist rasps. He’s clearly exhausted, but his voice sounds stronger than it did before the coughing fit.

“get him more,” Cash snaps at Iggy.

“Not yet. I don’t know how well he can handle excess water. Let’s see how he does with what he’s had, first.” More arbitrary rules, or something actually important for the treatment? Twist seems better, so maybe he can afford to wait a little while for more water.

“you can have more soon. do you need anything else right now?”

“No? ‘m fine.” He doesn’t seem like he has any idea what he needs.

“are you sure? how’s your breathing? are you still in pain?”

“‘m fine. C’n I have more water? No, sorry, ya said soon, sorry.” Twist brings a hand up to rub his eye sockets, then freezes.

“twist? what’s wrong?”

“I can move. Patches, my hands are free Patches. Patches?”

“what?”

“How’d I get my hands free?”

“i untied them. there was no reason for them to be tied down in the first place.”

“But how c’n you…Patches, sweetheart?”

“what is it?”

“Think ya might be real.”

“of course i’m real.”

“I think… are you real? Cause it seems like ya might be.”

“twist. twisted, look at me. i’m real.”

“Cause if yer real an’ you let me out, tha’ makes sense. I think you’d do that. But if yer not real, she’d never’a let me out. ‘s too much trouble.”

“That’s not why!” Iggy interjects. “You know why I couldn’t let you out. You’d just hurt yourself and me.”

Twist cringes at the reminder of her presence. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll go back, didn’t mean ta get out, sorry, know ‘m s’posed ta keep those on, didn’ mean ta get out, sorry, didn’t mean ta-”

Iggy steps back with her hands raised, taken aback by his building panic. “Hey, don’t freak out. I’m not mad. It’s not your fault he let you out.”

If that was supposed to reassure Twist, it failed. “’s not his fault!” he snarls. “Don’ blame him jus’ cause I’m too fucked up ta let ya help me.” He glares at her, while she just looks baffled.

“I’m not blaming him, I’m just saying he’s barged in here and started dictating your treatment to me without any consideration for the research protocol.”

“Sorry, ‘s my fault, sorry, he jus’ don’ wanna see me hurt but I know it’s important an’ I know I’m too hard ta treat an’ yer doin’ it anyway an’ puttin’ up with me an’ thank you but he don’ know that so don’ take it out on him, please don’t, I’ll tell him ta go away an’ you can do what ya want, jus’ don’ blame him, ‘s my fault I’ll cooperate an’ stop complainin’ so he won’ argue with ya anymore.” And now he’s panicking, and Iggy still doesn’t understand. Cash is starting to get a pretty good picture of the problem here.

“Glad to see you agree with me.” Smugly, she says to Cash, “see, he knows this treatment is too important for anyone to interfere with. Just go home and I’ll keep sending you updates.”

“or you could shut up and look at him for a second,” Cash growls. This has gone on long enough.

Iggy does, and looks taken aback by the fear on Twist’s face. “What’s wrong? Oh no, are you having a flashback?” Now she sounds sympathetic. Is that how she justifies it every time Twist doesn’t like something she does to him? Assume he’s having a flashback that has nothing to do with her? She can’t possibly be that oblivious, but she actually seems confused by his reaction. Well if she needs it spelled out…

“he thinks you’re going to punish him for breaking out. actually, he thinks you’re going to punish me for letting him out, so he’s trying to convince you it’s his fault because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot and for some reason he believes that we’re your prisoners. why do you think that is?” Cash really shouldn’t be surprised. She’s not the first royal scientist to lack even the slightest understanding of how people work. And she’s a Fellverse scientist, so she’s surely used to justifying some pretty terrible things, but this is ridiculous.

“I don’t know! It’s probably a flashback, like I said. He’s very confused and he interprets everything I do to help him in the worst possible light. I never know what’s going to set him off or how he’s going to react. Have you ever tried taking care of him? He’s a very difficult patient.”

“of course he’s difficult, but that’s beside the point. and do you know who’d have a better idea of what could set him off or how he might react? his brother. or me. or several other people who would at least have some idea of where to start and who he’d trust enough to try to explain what was wrong, and who would listen when he did try to explain. do you think just because you’re a royal scientist you can do whatever you want without any consequences whatsoever?”

“Cash!” Twist hisses. “Stop arguin’ with her. ‘m tryna get you outta this an’ yer not helpin’, sweetheart.” There’s that protective anger again. It’s much better than the fear, but still shows a fundamental misunderstanding of the situation that it’s time to correct.

“don’t worry, i’m perfectly safe and can leave anytime i want, and so can you. this royal scientist is just having a little trouble remembering that we’re on the surface and she is expected to treat you like a patient, not a project.” At Twist’s blank look of incomprehension, he continues.

“i’m not sure that either of you remember,” he glares pointedly at iggy, “but this is supposed to be a clinical trial for a treatment to help monsters with high lv. twist, you might not know this, but iggy certainly does know that there are rules about the treatment of research subjects and protocols that exist specifically to prevent medical trials from turning into the complete shit show that this has become. iggy, you know that. i haven’t been involved until now because frankly, i don’t give a shit what you do in your day-to-day work as long as you’re making progress, but when i come in here and find the monster who’s the whole reason i’m paying for this fucking project being treated like shit and losing his fucking mind, you can bet your ass i’m getting involved.”

They both stare at him in stunned silence. Twist is the first to speak, with dawning wonder. “Yer payin’ fer the project? Yer… yer payin’ ta get rid’a my LV? Darlin’… I can’t even…” He chokes on the words.

“yeah, and it’s worked out great for you, hasn’t it.” Everything he does, every fucking thing he does to try to help turns to shit, and now Twist knows that it’s all his fault, and how is he ever going to fix this? Twist is so fucked up now, and there’s no way to go back and undo it, and there’s so far to go before there’s even a chance of making any real difference, and why did he ever think he could fix this? He can’t fix anything that matters, just throws money at it and hopes all his problems go away, what a-

“Thank you.” What? Twist can’t be thanking him. After everything that’s happened? “Patches, Cash, thank you so much. I can’t even believe… can’t believe anyone’d… an’ I know I’m annoyin’ an’ I do stupid shit all the time an’ I drive ya crazy an ‘s all my own fault anyway an’ yer… yer payin’ fer this an’… thank you, darlin’.” Twist’s voice is shaky. It could be something with the treatment, but it looks more like he’d be crying if his LV would let him. Great. He’s made Twist want to cry. Fucking noble self-sacrificing idiot who pretends like he’s fine when he’s getting ready to die, who won’t leave Cash to rot in his own misery, who acts like Cash is worth something but can’t see why Cash would pay to save him because he only sees the good in worthless pieces of shit like Cash but sees himself as nothing but a stupid gutter rat, and now Cash’s eyes are burning again and he will not cry here because Iggy’s staring at them both in incomprehension and he’s not going to explain so he has to get himself under control.

“mind your own fucking business,” he snaps at her, then turns back to Twist before seeing her reaction. “of course i’d pay to get rid of your lv. did you think i’d just let you go crazy and die?”

“I… I dunno. Didn’ think… sweetheart, I don’t… Sorry. Don’ think I c’n really… ‘m kinda…” he rubs at his sockets, “‘m not really up ta havin’ this conversation right now. Sorry, ‘s just… ‘m tryin’, but…”

“it’s alright, we’ll talk later. right now we need to figure out how to fix this treatment.”

“Fix it? Is it broken?” He seems confused, like he can’t quite get his mind around it, but also worried.

“the treatment is fine. it’s just the way it’s being applied that isn’t working.”

“I’m open to suggestions.” Both of their gazes dart to Iggy. “I know it’s turned into kind of a mess. Look, Twist, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you.” She shrinks back a little under Cash’s glare, but continues. “I really am. I’m not saying I’ve done it perfectly. I don’t know enough about you, Twist, and I’ve gotten a little frustrated at times,” Cash suspects it’s been quite a bit more than that, but this is better than complete denial, “but I really am here to help you. So what do you need?”

“Told ya before, an’ ya didn’ listen.” Twist speaks hesitantly, but it’s probably a good sign that he’s arguing at all.

“Well I’m listening now. It’s hard to tell how important something is when you complain the same way about things you don’t like and things that completely freak you out.” Twist looks away, but Cash isn’t putting up with that shit.

“twist doesn’t complain. he’s more likely to smile through something he hates to avoid upsetting someone than he is to complain about some minor annoyance.” What horrifying things have been dismissed as ‘complaining’ while Twist has been here? Cash shudders to think of it.

“Well how was I supposed to know that? I don’t know him.”

“that’s right, you don’t, which is why you should have talked to someone who does, and for that matter, you should have had someone who knows him here the whole time. if you had, i doubt he’d be in this condition and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“That’s completely against protocol and completely impractical.”

“then your protocol is unethical and illegal. surface law requires informed consent for all experimentation on sapient subjects, which can be withdrawn at any time, which means that when a procedure is likely to make a subject incapable of continuing to provide informed consent, the subject, not the researcher, should be allowed to designate someone who can continue to ensure their wishes are respected. you, meanwhile, are simultaneously acting as a researcher and a medical practitioner, which means you are obligated to consistently provide the highest possible standard of care for your patient, which again involves respecting the patient’s choices or the choices of someone given power of attorney by the patient or designated with that power by a legal entity. have you done any of that?”

“Look, I get what you’re saying. It’s just not practical here. Those without a biological and medical background don’t tend to understand the necessity of some of the less pleasant aspects of my work or the inevitability of certain consequences, so they’ll just end up interfering and negatively impacting the outcome.”

“then do you at least consult with someone who does have a biological and medical background?”

“Sometimes, but everyone is very busy with their own projects, and we can’t be bothering each other all the time with every little detail of our own work.” Twist’s sanity is not a little detail! Calm, stay calm. Focus on what Twist needs now, not what could have prevented this whole disaster in the first place, because nothing can be done about that now. She said she’s open to suggestions. Figure out what needs to happen now and make it happen. Remember, Twist still needs her.

“i’m extremely concerned about leaving twist in your care with that attitude, especially given everything that’s happened. i know the treatment can’t be stopped,” he glances at Twist, who is frantically shaking his head, “and twist doesn’t want it to stop. I also know no one else is qualified to provide it. what i need to determine is how to make sure twist can continue to receive the treatment without leaving you in complete control over his life.”

“Cash?”

“what, twist?”

“Don’ make her stop. ‘s worth it. I swear it’s worth it. I don’ care what happens, I need it. Please don’t make her stop.”

“she’s not going to stop the treatment. she can’t, and i wouldn’t let her if she could. she’s just not allowed to hurt you more than necessary while you get it.”

“Don’t care if she hurts me. I need it, sweetheart. I need it so much, an’ I wanna live, an’ I wanna keep my mind, and that’s worth anythin’ that happens, long as it jus’ happens ta me. Please don’ make it stop.”

“just…” Hand rubbing his eyes as he sighs, Cash turns to Iggy again. “how much of what’s happening is actually for his benefit?”

“All of it!” At his look, she relents. “Well, ok, some of it only benefits him indirectly by improving my understanding of the treatment and helping get it approved for mass production, but he knows that and he wants to participate.”

“what, specifically, does he need in order to successfully complete the treatment, and what is for the research?”

“I don’t see why you really need to know that. You seem to be implying that I should stop doing anything that’s ‘just’ for research, which would invalidate the whole point of the project. He’s not the only monster with LV problems, you know.”

“i’m not telling you to abandon the research. i’m telling you to fix what’s wrong with your methods before i pull all your funding and let someone else take over the project.”

“You can’t do that. They wouldn’t know what they were doing. They’d completely mess it up.”

“then i’ll turn you into the sovereigns or the surface police, whoever will be more efficient in making you turn over the details of your work, so they can learn how to do it correctly. do you think there’s a shortage of scientists willing to take over a project of this significance and get all the credit after you’ve done most of the work? i’m giving you one chance to stay in control of this project. you’d better take it.”

“They’d screw it up! You can’t imagine the complexity involved in getting this treatment to work correctly at this stage. You can’t just hand it over to someone who wasn’t involved from the beginning. There’s as much of an art to it as a science, and you can’t just teach someone how to do that. Maybe when it’s further along, but it’s not there yet. Forget who gets the credit; taking me off this project could jeopardize the whole thing!”

“then work with me so that doesn’t have to happen. i’m not going to tolerate how you’ve treated twist, whether you meant to or not, and i don’t think you understand enough of what went wrong to prevent it from happening again. at this point, i don’t think he should even stay here.”

“I wanna stay!” Twist interjects. “Sweetheart, please, I gotta stay. I can’t lose this cure. She c’n do what she wants, I don’ care. I jus’ can’t leave. Don’ make her stop. Please, darlin. I can’t do it no more. ‘m not gonna make it. This’s the only chance I’ve got. Please.” What he’d give to never hear Twist beg again… He hates this project.

“twist. listen to me. i will not, under any circumstances, take away your cure. do you understand?” Twist nods. “this is important, so tell me what you understand. what did i just say to you?”

“I un’erstand yer not gonna take away my LV cure. But darlin, ya keep sayin’ that, and then ya tell her ta stop it an’ say yer gonna take me away from here. Maybe I’m jus’ not thinkin’ too clearly, ‘cause I know I’m not, but that don’t make no sense. How’s she s’posed ta treat me if she’s not allowed ta do anythin’ ta me?”

“Seriously, how am I supposed to treat him if you’re opposed to every single thing I do to him?” Will she just butt out for a minute? He’s talking to Twist.

“i don’t have a problem with everything you do. i’m perfectly aware that this treatment is difficult and that some suffering is unavoidable, especially given how high his lv is. what isn’t acceptable is everything that could have been avoided if you’d just paid attention to your patient or skipped all of this unnecessary secrecy. that goes for both of you, actually. twist, you can’t possibly have thought anyone would have kept you away from a cure for lv. we might have suggested a little more caution, and your brother might have needed some convincing, but we all know it’s a problem and no one would have kept you away from a solution.”

“What if I didn’t have time ta convince anyone?”

“what do you mean?”

“Look, ‘s too hard ta argue ‘bout right now. This whole… talkin’s hard. ‘m tryin’, ‘cause I know it’s important, but ‘s too hard. ‘n thinkin’… ‘m tryin’, but I can’t… ‘s just… you always think ‘m fine. All ‘a ya do. an’ ‘m not. Try ta be, ‘cause ya don’ need ta worry ‘bout me, an’ I’m not gonna waste time worryin’ ‘bout things I can’t change, but ‘m not fine, an’… ‘s too hard ta argue, sweetheart. Please? ‘m tired, an’ I can’t think.” He does look exhausted, and Cash is surprised he’s staying with the conversation as well as he is, given his level of confusion when Cash first arrived.

“fine, i’lll drop it for now. let’s move this conversation along so you can get some sleep. iggy, explain what you’re doing to twist and why in a way that we’ll both understand. you’ve obviously already given him the injection, and it hasn’t finished working, so what are you doing in the meantime?”

“Mostly basic maintenance work, you know, monitoring his stats, keeping his HP up, managing the side effects, keeping him from hurting himself, that kind of thing. And analyzing the stats readings from the monitor.”

“why do you need a monitor to track his stats? why can’t you just check him?”

“I’m not talking about the stats that you can see through a simple check. Those don’t actually correlate with the treatment’s progression, other than LV, obviously, which can affect the others, but those are all indirect effects that you won’t see until a dose is finished. I’m talking about a different level of stats, which exist primarily at more of a quantum mechanical level. Getting a reading on them is very complicated, but this machine can do it.” She pats the large machine that is the origin of the wires in Twist’s soul.

“why do you need to track those quantum mechanical stats?”

“To confirm that the progression of this level of treatment follows the same pattern as lower levels. It’ll make a stronger case for the review board that we can safely generalize from one high LV trial.”

“do you need that data or does it just help make a stronger case?”

“I guess I don’t technically need it. This dose of the treatment will follow its set progression until it’s finished, whether I know what it’s doing or not, and anything dangerous that might happen on that level can be seen through an HP change before it can do any real harm. Tracking the early stages was essential for comparison purposes, but now that it’s established I could probably get away with weekly data sampling. This dose is obviously going to take a while, so even that would give me decent data, especially if I can track future doses too.”

“so is there any reason he even needs to stay here? all of the ‘maintenance’ you described could be done at home better than you’re doing it here, and we have plenty of people who could teleport him back here once a week.”

“But what about his HP? I’m not just tracking that for the research; that could actually kill him.”

“why couldn’t that be tracked through a simple check?”

“Because how confident are you that whoever’s with him will always think to check him at the right time, especially when they’re distracted by the other effects of a node dissolving? You saw how fast his HP dropped earlier, and it doesn’t always even seem like anything is wrong. You have to have some kind of alarm set to go off at certain thresholds. That’s the main purpose of always having the monitor wires in.”

“so he can’t be taken off this monitor without risking a fatal hp loss? that could be a problem. it doesn’t seem to be transportable, and I assume that it’s custom made and not something that could be ordered from somewhere?”

“Right, I made it myself, and between the size and the delicacy of some of the components, there’s no way it’s leaving this lab.” Well now Cash is stuck. Leaving Twist here is absolutely destroying his mental health, but there’s no point in any of it if he dusts from HP loss as soon as he’s home. That only leaves keeping someone here with him, which is better than leaving him here alone but still gives Iggy way too much power over his daily life, which she’s shown she can’t handle. The last person he expects to solve the problem is Twist.

“But you c’n track my HP without this thing, can’t ya? I remember, you used somethin’ that ya stuck in my soul fer the bath.” Why did that produce a full-body shiver? He’s got to get Twist out of here. “An’ it couldn’t do much but it could tell ya if my HP dropped.” Iggy did mention something about a portable monitor, didn’t she? So much has happened since then that Cash forgot.

“Well, yes, that one’s portable, but it’s not all that accurate. It’s really basic. All it can do is set off an alarm if your HP approaches the threshold I set, but it can’t even tell if you’re actually at the threshold. It doesn’t provide one bit of useful data. Don’t you want something more accurate?”

“does he need something more accurate? if we want to know his exact hp, we can just check him. the point of the monitor would be to let us know if there’s a problem, not provide accurate data. or is that your real objection, that you were hoping to keep him here despite everything i just said because you want better data than you’ll get from him at home?”

“No! I just want what’s best for him and for all the other monsters who will benefit from this treatment. Look, data aside, since you obviously don’t care about how difficult it is to balance conflicting expectations from a review board, it’s harder than you think to take care of him. You need to know how to provide magic infusions, and what to feed him, and how to protect his joints, and all sorts of things. And he’s being pretty cooperative for you right now, but I guarantee it won’t continue. Even if he likes you, he doesn’t have a consistently strong awareness of reality, which causes him to do things that make him a lot harder to take care of. I know you want to be nice to your friend, but he’s given me reason to do everything I’ve done, and if you’re not willing to do that, you’re going to have a lot of trouble with him.”

“i’ll take my chances. what do i need to know?”

“Fine, but don’t come complain to me when it happens exactly like I told you. Ok, well, the most important thing to know is how and when to give the magic infusions. You saw me give one earlier, so the how is pretty straightforward. You just need to keep the calcification off of his soul so there’s a clear path for the injection. I always keep it completely clear to give me plenty of surface to work with and because it delays the re-hardening of the surface, but you can do whatever you want as long as there’s always clear access for a needle. The small monitor Twist was talking about is already set to a safe threshold, so just give him a dose anytime it goes off. His magical system is severely disrupted so it has trouble integrating foreign magic, so even though these infusions are about as pure as they can get they still put a lot of strain on the system, so try to keep his HP high enough with food that he won’t need them often.”

“i know about the magic disruption. you explained it in your earlier reports when you discussed side effects. is it the same for twist as for the earlier subjects?”

“Yes, but to a greater degree, just like with everything else because his LV is so high. It’s nothing remotely approaching the level of disruption that can contribute to melting, but it does affect every aspect of daily life. You’ve seen the confusion, weakness, and the overly active magic in his joints. Watch out for those. Also watch how he’s eating. I have a mixture that contains all of the nutrients he needs and is easy to digest. I’ll give you some if you insist on taking all of this on outside of my supervision. He can’t eat anything that’s even remotely difficult to digest, including solids and mixed textures, again because of the magic disruption, so just stick to these to be safe. He doesn’t like them, but he can eat them. Other than that, keep him in bed, although good luck doing that if you refuse to restrain him.”

“got it. just give me the supplies and he’ll be fine.”

“The infusions can be kept at room temperature, but don’t leave them in the light for longer than necessary. It degrades their purity so they’ll be harder to absorb.”

“got it. anything else i need to know?”

“Only that this is a very stupid thing to do and is completely against medical advice.”

Cash snorts derisively. “i’ll keep that in mind. are you going to put in the new monitor?”

“Yes, just give me a minute.” She pulls Twist’s soul from his ribcage with the same lack of care that she showed earlier. Twist flinches, but otherwise does not react. That’s just not right. A monster should be horrified to have his soul treated that way, but Twist acts like it’s normal. Again, Cash has to press down the seething rage building inside him. Twist is almost out of this lab. But what damage has already been done? Twist winces when Iggy pulls out the wires and sticks in the needle of a small device that rests on the surface of his soul, but still does not react in any other way. How can he hold still through that? It should be instinctive to defend his soul from an untrusted person who just wants to touch it, let alone someone sticking needles into it. Something is wrong with him. Cash already knows something is wrong with Twist, but watching him passively let his soul be manipulated and damaged is just driving it home. Twist isn’t broken. Cash has seen enough will and personality show through since he got here that he’s certain of that. But he’s not okay either. At the very least, he’s hurt, afraid, and very confused, and he needs to get out of here. Cash probably can’t do anything about those first three things, but he can at least get Twist home.

As passive as Twist seemed while Iggy switched the monitors, his body must have held some tension because Cash can see it release as soon as his soul is back in place. With the release of tension, Twist loses the last of his energy, too. Eye-light flickering and sockets blinking to stay open, he gazes at Cash for answers or permission to rest or something that Cash doesn’t know.

“go to sleep, twisted. it’s alright. you’ll be home when you wake up.” And Iggy can go fuck herself if she’s going to judge him for sounding like he’s talking to a babybones. After everything she’s put Twist through, she doesn’t get a say in the matter.

But again, she doesn’t say anything, or even look like she is judging him. He can’t actually tell what that expression she’s wearing is, especially when Twist reaches for his hand again and relaxes into sleep as soon as he lets him take it. Never mind, she can deal with her own problems. His only goal is to get Twist home.

“where are those supplies?”

“I’ll have them in just a second.” She quickly collects some packets from her office and a container of glowing, capped glass syringes from a cabinet, then puts them in a bag that Cash drapes over his shoulder. “This should be more than enough to get you through the week. If you need more, or if there’s a problem, I’m sure you have my contact information.”

“i do.” Not that he’s sure it’ll do any good to use it. What if she uses it as an excuse to justify keeping Twist in the lab for the rest of the treatment time? Of course, that’s still better than dead.

“Look, I know we haven’t exactly had the best first meeting, but we both want this treatment to work so we need to work together to make that happen. You may not like my methods, but please believe that my only goal is to help Twist and all of the other monsters with too much LV get better and live long, happy, sane lives. I’m from the same universe as he is. Do you think I don’t have people I care about who have the same problem? I’m not doing this for the fame and fortune. I want to help people. Don’t mess up his chance for a cure just because you’re having trouble seeing that.”

“i see exactly what you’re doing. i’m sure you have people you care about, and then i’m sure there are people like him, who you’d like to help but who are still just a means to an end for you.”

“He’s not just a means to an end! Maybe back in Twistfell I’d have thought like that, but things are different here on the surface. We can afford to care about more than just a few specific people. You’re obviously from a Fellverse too, so you must have experienced the same thing. Why can’t I care about reaching my goals, helping the people I care about, and helping my patients at the same time?”

“because you don’t appear to be doing that. look, i’ve never claimed to be looking out for anyone’s best interest, but if you’re going to claim that you are, you might want to give some thought as to why you’re still treating the people you claim you’re helping like tools you can use to reach your goals.”

“I’m not! I’ve done everything possible to help every one of them. I can’t make everything easy, and when this project started, I couldn’t guarantee good results, but the progress I’ve made is a testament to how much I care about helping my patients, and I don’t see why you insist on continuously questioning that.”

“because the condition twist is in and what i’ve learned about what’s been happening here shows that you don’t care enough about your patients, who you usually refer to as research subjects, not patients, to put any effort into figuring out what they need or how your actions might affect them. you might mean well, you might not. i don’t really care. what i care about is whether you can be relied on to do what twist needs now that you’re no longer the one deciding what that is.”

“Of course I can. I wouldn’t abandon a patient just because someone comes into my lab to threaten me over him and tries to tell me how to do my job.”

“that’s all i needed to know. we’ll contact you if we need anything. if not, i’ll bring twist here in a week so you can record his other stats. unless there’s anything else, we’re leaving now.”

“Be careful how you move him. Since he’s asleep, he won’t be able to tell you if you’re putting too much strain on his joints.”

“he probably wouldn’t tell me anyway. if you’ve been relying on him to tell you when something’s wrong, it’s no wonder you’ve missed so many problems. we’re leaving now.” Wedging his arms under Twist’s knees and upper spine, Cash lifts Twist out of the bed. The position is somewhat awkward, given Twist’s height, but it only needs to last for a moment as Cash teleports them home.

chapter 10

#twistfell papyrus #swaptwistfell papyrus #twistfell alphys #medical experimentation #soul manipulation #flashbacks #internalized victim-blaming #victim-blaming #gaslighting #hurt/comfort

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rainoverthemountains · 5 years

Text

Twist Story chapter 4

As usual, Twist and all of Twistfell (and Swaptwistfell, which has a hint of relevance here if you know who Iggy’s major donor is) belongs to @itsladykit

chapter 1, chapter 3

Chapter 4

Twist groans as his sockets open and his eyelight lights. The brightness in the room is blinding so he quickly slams both sockets shut and brings an arm up to cover them with his sleeve. This is a lot more work than it should be, and does not produce the expected result. Bare bones are terrible at blocking out light.

“How drunk was I that I thought sleepin’ shirtless in a freezin’ room with no blankets was good idea?” he mutters, trying to lever himself up and out of the bed to search for some clothes. Trying, and failing, as a wave of dizziness washes over him at the movement and his arms won’t hold any weight.

“We’ll, fuck. Not sure this’s a hangover.” The headache that had been faintly pulsing in the back of his skull suddenly intensifies. ‘Er if it is, ‘s a hangover from hell.” He tries covering his eyes again, still to no effect. “C’n someone turn off that damn light?” No one answers.

He tries getting up again, this time by swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Pain flares in his ribcage as soon as he tries. “Shitshitshit, bad idea, fuck!” He ends up curled in a little ball, arms across his ribcage and legs drawn up as tightly as he can manage. He’s not sure how long it is before he manages to move again. He can only guess at what’s wrong.

Not drunk, or not only drunk. Was he in some kind of fight? Shit, was he?! What if he killed someone? What if he gained LV? He can’t have gained LV, he’d know if he had, surely he’d know, he’d feel it. And anyway, it would have healed him, and he’s definitely not healed, and he’s still sane enough to worry about it, so that can’t be what happened, it can’t, but then what did happen?

“‘m I sick?” The pain in his chest has receded enough to let him talk again, but something definitely isn’t right with his voice. It’s raspy and strained, like he was screaming, why does he remember screaming? And it’s dry, and oh stars he’s just realized how thirsty he is, and unless there’s some water right next to this bed, there’s no way he’s getting any. A quick glance through squinted sockets confirms that water is nowhere within reach. He’ll have to put that aside, then, for the probably more pressing problem of what happened and where he is.

His brief glimpse of the room suggests that it might be some kind of doctor’s office. He hasn’t spent much time in places like that, really doesn’t like them and can usually take care of any injury without needing to go to one, but it would make some sense based on whatever is wrong with his ribcage and skull. Which is probably something he should find out more about. His skull’s a little hard to examine by himself, but he should be able to get some idea of what’s happening with his ribcage if he can just get his eyes open long enough.

Bracing himself for the light, he squints his sockets open again. It’s just as bad as last time, but this time he’s prepared, so he manages to keep them open. His neck is stiff, but he gets it to bend enough that he can look at his ribcage. What he sees there is disturbing.

His soul is there, easily seen from the sickly yellow light it’s giving off. It’s missing a lot of the calcification that would normally cover it, which should make it look better but somehow just makes it look damaged. He looks away in disgust. Even without the calcification, it’s still ugly. Which, fine, he should have expected that. If he could fix his soul by peeling it like an orange, he’d have done it a long time ago, but what’s with the color? Last he checked, his magic was gold, not yellow, and definitely not that weird, pale yellow. His head falls back on the pillow before he can take a closer look. Everything aches, but more than that, absolute exhaustion is really getting to him. But he has to figure out what’s going on.

The best lead he has is his soul. Something is wrong with it, and maybe if he can figure out what’s wrong he can figure out what happened, or where he is, or how to get out of there. Sitting up’s not working, bending’s not working, but maybe he can bring his soul to eye level instead. He quickly learns that magic’s not working either, ow, shit, ow, so he reaches in to pull it out by hand, only to get his hand tangled in string.

“What the fuck?” he gasps. “Why’s there-” but he’s cut off by a coughing fit, which does nothing good for the string that’s apparently pulling on his soul. Not string, he realizes as he gets the coughing under control, wires. Wires sticking into his soul, and the other end connected to a machine a few feet away.

“Now this’s gettin’ creepy.” His eyes trail from the machine by his bed to the rest of the room, stopping on various equipment, some of which looks ridiculously modern next to tools that could have come out of some 19th century mad-scientist’s lab, and even what look like some kind medieval torture devices. He shivers at a creepy clamp thing with teeth without really knowing why it’s any worse than the things around it, before suddenly freezing as he realizes what all this means.

“A lab. ‘m in a lab!” Ice fills his marrow as he looks around with renewed awareness, noting the single exit, impossibly far away, the bars beside his bed, perfect for strapping in some unwilling research subject, though he’s not strapped in because why would they bother? It’s not like he’s going anywhere. He can’t even sit up, can’t even get these damn wires out of his soul, oh fuck get them out get them out get them out get them out, shit that hurts, but they’re out, they’re gone, nothing holding him in place anymore, this is his chance he has to leave has to get up has to…

“What is going on in there?” a voice demands from somewhere he can’t see. “You’d better be having a seizure or something because if you took those out on purpose and screwed up my readings I swear I’ll-”

The voice starts far away but ends up right on top of him. Who the fuck thinks she’s got a right to hold him here like this, thinks she can lock him away in a lab somewhere, doesn’t know who’s she’s messing with, a sharp bone right through her chest will take care of her. He starts to manifest one, and the world whites out in agony.

When he comes to, he’s still gasping, soul on fire, mana lines burning. He blinks up at the… lizard monster? standing over him, thinking he should probably know who she is, but not quite able to put together a coherent thought.

“Tried to use your magic, huh? Didn’t really work out the way you expected? I’d have warned you, but you decided to attack me as soon as I came in the room, so I didn’t really get a chance. You’re really not being a very cooperative research subject. The hard part was supposed to be before the injection. You really should be under better control now, so I expect better behavior.”

Research subject? Oh yeah, the lab, he’s in a lab, so she’s probably a scientist, and she’s calling him her research subject and telling him to behave. Only one response to that. “Fuck. You.” The effect is kind of ruined by the coughing fit that follows, though.

“Really? That’s how you’re going to talk to me? I’m curing your LV and putting up with all of your ridiculous behavior in the meantime, and all you have to say is fuck you? You should be thanking me!” Her rant is hard to follow as he struggles to get the coughing under control, but it seems like there might be something important in there.

“Thank? Why… wait. What?”

“I’m not repeating myself. You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, ya said…” he clenches his teeth, trying to hold off another coughing fit. She said something important, and besides, coughing hurts like a vice squeezing his soul, and he’d really rather not do it again. Water would be great, or maybe he should just stop talking. Nah, never gonna happen. “Said… LV.” A single cough escapes before he gets it back under control. “A cure? Ya said…” Any answer she might have given is lost as he loses control of the coughing fit he’s been fighting. It’s… not the worst thing he’s ever experienced, not by far, but pretty high on the scale of things that have happened lately, as his soul screams for air that he’s coughing too hard to take in, and he can’t get enough air to cough, but he has to cough, and his throat is burning and everything is burning and oh thank every fucking star, water, he has water! He gulps greedily, choking as he continues to cough but not caring as the cool peace of it soothes his throat and even his soul. He drinks until it’s gone, and by then the coughing has stopped and he can breathe, but he’s just so tired. He whimpers as the straw, apparently there was a straw, is removed from his mouth, but is too tired for further protest. Sleep, he just wants to sleep, but there’s something important, something he needs to ask about, something…

“LV?” he whispers. “Somethin’, said somethin’ ‘bout LV. What ya said…?” He can’t talk right, can barely form words, let alone put them in order, but he has to know.

“I’ve cured it.” She says it so matter-of-factly, like she’s not talking about changing his whole world.

“Really? An’ I… c’n have it?” It sounds familiar, but he has to know for sure.

“You already have it. This is it. It’s working in your soul right now. Did you forget?” She softens a little at that.

“Forget? Yeah, guess so.” A tiny spark of memory that he shudders away from, but still it grows, memory of his soul melting and parts ripped off and Muffet taking it, probably not Muffet, that was a long time ago, she’s not here, but it all feels like her so he’s not sure, and fading away and coming back, and it’s all rushing back now and he kind of wishes it wouldn’t.

“Do you remember now?” And now she sounds… encouraging? Is she mad at him or not? Can she just make up her mind? He can’t keep track of these shifts.

“‘member,” he agrees, and he does, kind of, but not enough to make sense of anything.

“Hmmm, temporary amnesia and ongoing confusion, pretty typical side effects, especially this early on. Is there anything else you can tell me? You weren’t in any condition to talk after the initial treatment.”

“‘bout what?”

“Your experience of the treatment! That was part of our agreement, remember, I give you the treatment early and you participate in my data collection so I can get this published and accepted for mass production.”

“Sucks.”

“What sucks?”

“Th’ tre’men’. Treat ment.” Too much work to makes the words come out clearly. He just wants to sleep.

“Really? That’s all you have to say about it?”

“‘s true.”

“Obviously, but I really need more detailed information. You wouldn’t believe how picky the review board is about these things. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“Sucks. ‘m tire. Gonna slee’ now.” There. Three, five, six? words. That’s as much as she’s getting.

“Hey, no, you can’t sleep yet! I’ve already let you get away with it once, but I can’t let you do it again. This whole thing is pointless if I can’t get any data out of it. Between not answering questions and not keeping those wires in, you’re being a pretty useless research subject. I need to get those wires back in, anyway, and don’t take them out again!”

“Mhm.” He doesn’t really care what she does. Sleep is calling, and he couldn’t fight it if he tried. He’s vaguely disturbed as he feels her reach into his ribcage, presumably to get his soul, but it’s not enough to keep him from much needed sleep.

***

Iggy is just plugging the last of the data from the monitor into the program that will analyze it and compare it to the data from her other subjects when she hears a crash from the lab. She rushes into the room, only to find Twist collapsed on the floor.

“What happened? Why are you on the floor?” Did he fall out of bed accidentally? She’s still not convinced seizures aren’t a possibility in his case, even if they haven’t been seen in other subjects. The alternative…

“Tryna go home,” he mutters.

The alternative is that he got out of bed on purpose, and, predictably, collapsed.

“Well obviously you can’t do that. How would you get there? You can’t even walk, and I’m not done monitoring the rest of the treatment,” she scolds as he blinks up at her in confusion.

“Rest? There’s more?” He sounds like the idea never occurred to him. At least he remembers that there is a treatment, this time.

“Of course, there’s more. Has your LV decreased? No, obviously not, so the treatment isn’t done, so you’re not going home.”

“Wanna go home. Sans… Blackberry. Blackberry’s waitin’.”

“No, he’s not. You told him you were going on vacation, remember?”

Twist snorts. “Not a v’cation. ‘s not.”

“Obviously not, but that’s what you told him. I sure hope this memory loss thing ends soon. How about we move on to a different side effect? This one’s getting old pretty fast.”

“I c’n pick my side effect? What kinda medicine does tha’? An’ where’s Blackberry?”

“Ugh, no, obviously I was just saying that because I was annoyed. Still, there are a lot of side effects to this and they can change frequently, and so far, memory loss is the most annoying. Now let’s get you off the floor. I’m really glad you’re a skeleton. You weigh, like, nothing for being so tall.” She reaches down to lift him up, only to freeze when he gasps. She quickly pulls back, concerned that she might have hurt him, only to realize that she hasn’t actually touched him. Even if she did, she certainly isn’t touching him now, and he’s still looking at her like some nightmare come to life.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He’s just staring her, sockets hollow, expression still, and she has no idea what caused it. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” This question gets through, though it does nothing for the look of terror.

“Sorry. Sorry. ‘M sorry. ’ll do better. Sorry. Sorrysorrysorry. Sorry.” He doesn’t look particularly contrite, but he does look desperate. For what, she has no clue.

“Enough apologizing. You’ve been a terrible research subject, but you’re not actually doing anything wrong right now. Just let me put you in bed and everything will be fine.” She reaches again to pick him up, which brings the terror back in full force.

“Sorry! Sorrysorrym’sorry ‘m sorry ‘m sorry so sorry didn’ mean ta sorry!” Now he’s sobbing, without tears of course because his LV won’t allow that, and she still doesn’t know why. He’s not actually resisting, so she ultimately just picks him up anyway and puts him back on the bed. He’s shaking so hard that his bones rattle, and he won’t stop apologizing, even after she steps away from him.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m not mad at you. Look, you’re back in bed! I fixed it. Everything’s fine.” Her reassurances have no effect.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.” His body is rigid now, except for the shaking. When she gently touches his arm, he flinches away before freezing again, and that’s when she realizes.

“A hallucination! Something I did triggered a hallucination, maybe with some kind of flashback, and now you’re stuck in it. Combine that with increased emotional instability due to alterations in the substructure of your soul, and of course you’ll have some reactions like this. Ok, that’s not so bad. I’ll just leave you alone to let it fade or play out, and then you’ll be fine. I’ll just be in my office. I’ll check on you in a little while.” Hallucinations are a common side effect, but they always go away on their own. She feels some sympathy for this one, it looks bad, but since there’s nothing she can do to help she might as well get some work done. She reattaches the monitor wires again, which he doesn’t seem to notice, then returns to the office, leaving rattling bones and terrified whimpers behind her.

***

Twist doesn’t know where he is. He thought he knew, and is glad to realize he isn’t there, but other than not there he has no idea. There’s a door somewhere over there, and he can’t see what’s through it but it seems like the best way out. He pulls himself to the edge of the bed with considerable effort, tries to roll to his feet, and collapses to the floor, agony shooting through every joint. For some indefinable amount of time, that’s all there is, but at some point, he hears a voice and feels someone shaking his arm.

“Hey, hey! Can you hear me? What are you doing out of bed?” The source of the voice is a yellow blur.

“Stop yellin’ an’ maybe I’ll answer ya,” he mutters at the blur. He knows that blur, and as the blur resolves into a familiar face he remembers where he is. “Damn, that’s annoyin’.”

“Well I wouldn’t have to yell at you if you hadn’t knocked yourself out by falling on the floor. When I say stay in bed, I mean it. You can’t walk. You also have wires in your soul that are attached to a stationary machine. How hard is that to understand?”

“Yer annoyin’ too, sweetheart, but I meant the forgettin’ what’s happenin’ thing.” He’d like to glare at her, but his eyes have gone from unfocused to over-focused somehow, everything distorted and magnified and too bright, and slightly nauseating.

“What, again? You’re having an unusual quantity of temporary amnesia. That will be inconvenient if it continues.”

“So sorry ta inconvenience ya, darlin’. Here I was havin’ a great time forgettin’ where I was an’ fallin’ on the floor every coupl’a hours, an’ not even realizin’ I was inconveniencin’ ya. I’ll make sure ta be more considerate in the future.”

“The memory loss wouldn’t be such a problem if you would just stay in bed. Why do you want to get up so badly? You have to feel terrible.”

“Ya sayin’ you’d stay put if ya woke up in some lab somewhere with no clue where ya were or why ya were there? Sorry fer not assumin’ whoever put me there has good intentions.”

“Strapping you to the bed would solve that problem.”

He glares. “No.”

“Oh, come on. I know you don’t like it, but how else are you going to stay in bed if you can’t even remember that you’re supposed to? It doesn’t even have to be chains; the way you are right now, we could probably get away with just some strips of cloth. It wouldn’t even be uncomfortable.”

“I said no.” What if she decides to do it anyway? He can’t stop her, can’t use magic, can’t even get to the door. She can do anything she wants to him; he’s helpless. Being helpless never goes well, people take advantage of that, make you helpless then they use you, then they-

“Hey, focus. You don’t need to freak out. I’m not strapping you to the bed. If I was going to then I already would have, with how you’ve been acting every time I try to help you.” Yellow again. Yellow Iggy. Not pink and black and lots of arms. This is Iggy. She’s here because she’s helping him. He chose this, and it’s worth it. It’s not even so bad, just a little pain, a little confusion, a little absolute terror nervousness, all completely worth it to get rid of his LV. He just needs to calm down and do what she tells him.

“That’s better. Are you back with me now? Let’s just get you back in bed.”

A good suggestion, and he’s only just decided to do as he’s told, but he really can’t help himself. He grins. “Ya keep sayin’ yer not in’erested, sweetheart, but then ya keep tryna get me in bed. So which is it?” A weak joke, but somehow he feels infinitely better for making it.

“Will you stop with the innuendo?! Just for that, you can get yourself back in bed,” she huffs.

“Fine, fine, I’ll cut it out an’ get in bed.” He’s still grinning as he struggles to roll over, the effort sending small spikes of pain through his joints but not dimming his mood. That’s as far as he gets, though, as his limbs won’t support him and pressure from trying to lift himself elevates the pain beyond what he can smile through.

“Think I… think ‘m gonna need some help.” He hates to admit it, but he’s not getting up anytime soon. Actually, maintaining this position might be more than he can manage for much longer, so he’s grateful when she sighs but leans down to lift him up. He’s not much help with getting himself in the bed or properly positioned, mostly trying to minimize the impact to joints that seem to have decided they don’t want him to move ever again.

“Wha’s wrong with me? ‘s like there’re spikes in my joints.”

“I don’t know. That’s not a common side effect. Maybe it’s due to the magic disruption and you being a skeleton. No one can use their magic during the treatment, but skeletons use magic to hold their bones together, which mainly occurs at the joints, so the magic in your joints is still present but easily disrupted.”

“Wait, does that mean my joints’ll come apart? If I can’t use magic and magic’s what holds me together, am I just gonna fall apart?”

“No, if that was going to happen, I think it already would have-”

“Ya think it already would’ve? Yer not sure? Don’t ya think that’s a risk I should’ve heard about before starting this?”

“Your magic isn’t gone, just damaged, so it still should be capable of primary survival functions. I didn’t warn you about it because I didn’t know it would happen. You’re the first skeleton subject I’ve had. That’s the risk you take when you participate in clinical trials, you may experience a side effect that hasn’t been discovered yet. This one really isn’t even that bad-”

“Unless my arms ‘n legs fall off.”

“You’ll just have to be careful about moving, and stop interrupting me. Now give me your soul.” While she spoke, she had retrieved the wires from where they’d fallen when they came loose when he fell out of bed, and now holds them in one hand while the other is held out expectantly for his soul. He gives it to her, knowing better than to resist by now, and looks away as she sticks both wires back in.

“Aren’t you glad I got all the calcification off so it’s mostly still clear? Imagine if I had to chip some more away each time you pulled these out. On the other hand, maybe that would motivate you to keep them in.”

“Not exactly pullin’ ‘em out on purpose, darlin’.” He scowls as she returns his soul. He knows this is annoying for her, but he’s not having a great time either, and he’s not sure what she thinks he can do about it.

“Just stop doing it. I’m going back to the office to try to get some work done. Stay. In. Bed. Do NOT remove those wires. If I have to come in here again because you did something stupid, I might reconsider what I said about strapping you to the bed.” And on that horrible note, she leaves him alone.

***

“Hey, Iggy?” She’s busy doing something with some equipment, but she’s always busy when she comes into the lab, so this is as good a time as any to ask.

“What?” That doesn’t mean she’ll be happy to be interrupted, though.

“Any chance I could get somethin’ ta eat? Think I’ve been here awhile, an’ I’m gettin’ kinda hungry.” He’s a lot more than kind of hungry, but sees no reason to let her know how much. At least not unless he has to.

“You’ve been here a day and a half, so I’m not surprised you’re hungry. I’m actually surprised you haven’t said anything before now.”

“Wasn’ hungry then. I am now. Can I have somethin’, please?” There, a little politeness never hurt.

“Sure, just let me finish with this and I’ll get you some food.” Well, that’s better than if he hadn’t asked at all, but you’d think she’d be a little faster about feeding someone at risk for magic depletion who hasn’t eaten in a day and a half.

Iggy finishes whatever it is she was doing and goes into her office. There are some sounds; packages tearing open, water running, utensils clinking, and then she returns with a covered cup with a straw sticking out the top.

“A smoothie?” Twist asks hopefully. He loves smoothies.

“Kind of, but not quite. It’s mostly protein and concentrated calories. You’ll have trouble digesting anything complicated, and you’re probably going to have trouble eating anything that takes a lot of chewing, and if you swallow wrong, you’ll choke on it, so this way you still get all the nutrients you need just from drinking. It’ll help keep your HP up.”

“Protein and calories, huh? Sounds great. Let’s give it a try.” It certainly doesn’t smell great, and it tastes exactly like it smells. He grimaces, but he’s hungry, so he drinks some anyway. “No chance of makin’ this taste any better, is there?”

“I guess I could add some sugar.”

He grimaces. “No thanks. Last thing this needs is ta be sweet on top’a whatever else it is.” There really is no way to describe that taste. It’s just awful.

“Fruit, maybe? You said you liked smoothies.” Well isn’t she just being remarkably helpful today? Looks like cooperating with drinking her nasty smoothie might pay off.

“That’d be great, sweetheart. Don’t know if it’d totally fix the taste, but it’d make it a lot easier ta drink.”

“Ok, give it here. I’ve got a blender in the office, and I think I have some bananas I can mix in. But you drink the whole thing, understand? I’m not going to this much trouble just so you can take a few sips and decide you don’t like it.”

“Got it. You add bananas and I drink it all.” Honestly, he’d probably drink it all without the fruit, nasty as it is. He’s hungry, and talking about food is just making it worse.

She doesn’t take long to return with the modified smoothie. It’s better than it was before, even if nothing can quite cover up that taste. At first, he drinks it vigorously, but drinking is more work than it should be as his magic struggles to dissolve the food. It gets harder to coordinate drinking and breathing as he runs out of energy, so he keeps running out of breath and occasionally choking. He believes Iggy now about solid food being a bad idea. He makes it through the whole cup but he’s exhausted. He holds onto the cup long enough for Iggy to take it from him but passes out as soon as he no longer has a task keeping him awake.

***

They start to develop something like a routine, even though it’s only been a couple of days. Iggy checks his monitor, brings him terrible smoothies, and works in her office. Twist lies in bed, alternately confused, afraid, and bored. He’s very bored, so bored that he briefly considers risking Iggy’s anger by trying to get out of bed again. Not worth it don’t disobey you know what that gets you He really doesn’t feel too bad as long as he doesn’t move, except for all the random flashbacks that get triggered by absolutely everything and the inability to remember where and when he is, so maybe he’s starting to get better. Maybe it’s almost over and he can go home. It’s a little concerning that he hasn’t seen any change in his LV yet, but maybe it takes a while for the change to show up. Maybe that’s what Iggy meant when she said it could take days or weeks. Still, Iggy doesn’t act like it’s almost over. In fact, Iggy acts like whatever she’s reading from his monitor is weird. She keeps watching him like she expects something to happen. She seems irritated that whatever it is keeps not happening.

It’s late in the third day of treatment when Twist finally finds out what Iggy has been waiting for. He’s just finished dinner, and is happily using the little energy he has left to complain about the food. Iggy cooks about as well as he does, if those smoothies are any proof, and he’s happy to tell her so. Iggy is ignoring him, as she tends to do.

When it begins, he thinks he’s just having trouble digesting dinner. It really is getting annoying to have so much trouble with basic things. Then he notices how hot everything feels.

“Why’s it so hot in here?” Iggy ignores this complaint like she has all the others. She’s doing something with the monitor and doesn’t turn away from her work. Twist realizes he’s started sweating. “Seriously, ‘m meltin’, here. Turn the heat down.” This time Iggy turns to look at him.

“It’s not any hotter than it was before. Are you feeling hot?” She sounds kind of excited, which is a weird reaction.

“Really hot. Too hot. Reminds me a when this started, with that first injection.” He doesn’t want to think about that, has been trying hard not to think about it, in fact, but now that he’s thought of it, he can’t stop thinking of it. This really does feel like a lighter version of how that felt. The heat is even centered in his soul like it was then. “‘m hot.” He might have whimpered. He’s not sure. He’s just too hot to care, and something’s happening with his soul. Something that feels a lot like that hellish first treatment, something that’s seeming more and more like it with each passing second, something-

Something in his soul flares white hot, and he screams. It’s like acid, or his soul shattering, and he doesn’t know what’s happening, but then he doesn’t care what’s happening, just wants it to stop, and claws at his ribs, desperate to get to the source of the pain, and he knows that doesn’t help, knows it only adds more pain, and what’s he going to do, rip out his own soul? So he pulls his arms in towards his chest, pulls his legs in too, and now he’s curled up in a tight little ball but it’s so hot, joints are hot and soul is melting, not supposed to melt she said he wouldn’t melt! He doesn’t want to melt, wants to go home! Go home, fight it, fight what?! There’s nothing to fight, just pain and heat and please make it stop. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease and he can’t breathe doesn’t want to breathe breathing hurts everything hurts can’t breathe something on his face can’t breathe! Touching him someone’s touching him hands on his skull moving his skull, air! He gasps in relief as air rushes to his soul, then screams as it reignites the burning. Can’t breathe it hurts, have to breathe. So hot, breathe through it, just keep breathing but why if he’s melting? Doesn’t want to melt, she said he wouldn’t melt! Cold, needs something cold to stop melting, get up, find cold, can’t! She said he wouldn’t melt! Where is she, please make it stop!

“Help.” It might be scream or it might be a whisper. Either way, it rips out of his throat, and now that hurts too, but it gets a response. She’s here!

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. You’ll be ok. This is all perfectly normal. It just means the medicine’s hit a fairly large LV concentration, or maybe even a node, which means it’s finally doing its job. I was wondering when it would. It usually doesn’t take this long. I wonder if it’s proportional to the increase in overall treatment time? That would be useful to know.” It’s mostly a blur of sounds to Twist, but somewhere in there seems to be a reassurance, something about this being normal. Maybe he’s not melting? Then what’s happening? The pain spikes again, and he didn’t know it could get higher, but somehow it has, and then he doesn’t have any more thoughts for a while as it crests and crests again.

This time when the world comes back into focus, he knows where he is and why he’s there, and it doesn’t help at all. He’s shaking. He doesn’t know why he’s shaking, can’t really even feel it, but he hears his bones rattling so he knows he’s shaking. It’s dark, so maybe it’s late, or maybe his eyes are closed, so he tries to open them, and yes, they were closed, and it was better that way because this place is blinding. He closes them again, but not before glimpsing the yellow blur that’s become much too familiar these past few days.

“Hey, are you awake? How are you doing? That looked like a pretty bad one, not as bad as the first one because your HP didn’t drop too much; you’ll probably need to eat something soon but you didn’t even need an infusion, so it wasn’t too bad, although I guess it probably seemed pretty bad to you, so how are you doing now?” She talks a lot. None of it seems helpful. Maybe he should ask.

“Was… at?” That didn’t work, and now his throat hurts again.

“What? You’re not making any sense. Are you thirsty? I’ll get you some water.” She disappears for… a while, he doesn’t really know, and then there’s a straw between his teeth. He drinks it, and apparently he was thirsty because once he starts he can’t stop, and drinks until the cup is dry. He wants more, he thinks he wants more, but he’s tired, so tired. Maybe he’ll sleep, but… Wait, no don’t sleep. What happened? He needs to know what happened. What if it happens again? How can he stop it from happening again? He doesn’t notice his breathing speeding up until he’s hyperventilating, and he didn’t have enough air to begin with so now everything is spinning, and he’s still too hot and fuck is it happening again nonononono.

“Hey, you’re ok, you’re ok, just calm down. It’s over for now, just relax. You need to relax and recover. You’ll be ok.”

Ok. She said he’ll be ok. She said it’s over, she said it, it’s over. No, she said over for now. For now! That means it’s coming back. It’s not over, not over never over it’s coming back he’ll be here forever, can never go home and he’ll burn until he melts, won’t ever OW.

“Are you listening? Listen I said you’re ok! Calm down. Just breathe, jeez.” She shook him! Fuck that hurts. But it breaks him out of the panic too, and now he can process what she’s saying. Calm down. He needs to calm down. Breathe. Breathe slowly. That’s not slow! That’s faster, that’s worse, he’s not listening not listening too fast can’t breathe can’t see it’s dark can’t breathe can’t- He passes out.

***

It must not be long before he wakes up, because she’s still sitting by his bed. He’s calmer now, almost lethargic, and slowly blinks up at her until she notices that he’s awake.

“Oh good, you’re back. And calmer now, too. I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to calm down. I was seriously considering tranquilizer options if you were still panicking that much when you woke up, but I really want to avoid that because I don’t know whether it could interfere with the treatment. But it’s not necessary because you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Does that require an answer? It seems obvious. He has a better question. “What happened?”

“You passed out after that attack. I’d say that one was definitely a node. Nodes are the worst, so if that wasn’t a node, I’d hate to see what an actual node would look like for you. I can’t totally rule that out, because I really don’t know enough about high LV in mentally intact monsters, so we’ll have to wait and see, but I’d really be surprised if that wasn’t a node.

“Wha’s a node?”

“Hmm? Oh, you know, an LV node.”

“Wha’s a LV node?” Is she going to start making sense at some point? There’s clearly something he needs to know here, but he has no clue what it is.

“Don’t you know how LV works?” She seems genuinely baffled.

“I know where it’s from an’,” he pauses to breathe, “an’ what it does, but,” another pause for breath, “nothin’ else.” What else is he supposed to know about it? If he’d realized he’d have to play twenty questions to find out what happened, he might have waited a while.

“I guess most people don’t actually know much about it. When you study something as much as I’ve studied LV in the past few years, you tend to forget what the general public does and doesn’t know.

“Basically, LV exists as a semi-physical part of the soul, with varying concentrations of each level dispersed throughout loosely interconnected networks. When your soul hurts, that’s the medicine dissolving various parts of the physical and magical components of LV. I’ve made it pretty specific to minimize damage to the surrounding areas, but with everything so connected in there, it’s impossible to avoid it completely. That’s where the side effects come from, including the mental and emotional ones since souls don’t really have any separation between the physical, mental, emotional, and magical. When the pain spikes, that means the medicine has hit a particularly high concentration of LV. When it gets to a node in the network, it actually connects to all the LV of that level in your soul at once, which affects the whole network, causing ‘attacks’ like the one you just experienced. Sorry, I don’t think that’s a great name for them, but it’s the best I’ve come up with so far. I’m open to suggestions. Anyway, what that means is that, as horrible as I’m sure that was, it was actually a really good thing because it means the medicine dissolved a node, which is great progress!”

“How many nodes?”

“Just one, I’m sure. They’re not right next to each other, which is good because can you imagine dissolving several at once? I bet that could break someone’s mind!”

“No, how many nodes are there?” If she could sound a little less enthusiastic about the idea of his mind breaking, that would be great.

“I don’t actually know, sorry. There are no definite patterns, and I think they can even shift a little. There are definitely a lot, especially with high LV like yours. We’ve still got a long way to go. But progress is progress, right?”

“Yeah.” Progress is progress. They’re making progress, small as it is relative to the whole awful thing. He’s not going to think about more of those attack things. He’s not going to think about being here for some indefinite amount of time, pretty much alone, living in dread of when the next one will come. He’s not. Instead, focus on progress.

He’s getting closer to life without LV. His whole life, spent as close as he wants to be to everyone he loves, with time to do everything he ever wished he could do and no reason to be afraid of himself ever again. He can barely imagine it. It’s too much.

It doesn’t seem real, here in a lab with his soul burning, barely able to remember where he is and with old memories always threatening to overtake his mind, but if this works, it will be real. Everything he never let himself wish for will be real. That’s why it’s worth it. Whatever happens, he has to remember it’s worth it. He just wants to go home, but going home without LV is worth waiting for. It is. It doesn’t seem like it now, miserable and terrified of the next attack, but it’ll be worth it. It will be.

***

Twist drifted off into some kind of daydream after Iggy’s more thorough explanation of the LV treatment, so Iggy returns to her office for more data analysis. The monitor wires actually stayed in during the attack, which is a minor miracle given the way he was scratching up his ribs. She really needs to find a way to stop him from messing with them, and to stop him from injuring himself now that the medicine has started reaching nodes. She’s tried to respect his wishes to not be restrained, but it’s getting impractical and he’s not being reasonable about it. No one likes having their movement restricted, but all he’s doing is messing up her data and hurting himself. He really does seem upset whenever she mentions it, though, so she’ll wait a little longer to see how he does. At least he doesn’t seem to be attacking her anymore.

She’s actually pretty pleased with the results so far, despite the gaps in the data and the complete lack of any meaningful subjective report. She certainly has enough to start her weekly report to the major donor who is making all of this work possible. She doesn’t know who they are, but she’s sure they’ll be pleased with her progress.

A subject who meets the criteria set by the review board has been found. Subject is a male skeleton with LV of 17. Subject consented to all treatment and was given the initial injection with minimal complications (i.e. HP loss requiring correction with direct magic infusion, distress). Subject is currently under observation in the lab. Side effects are managed effectively and HP is being monitored. The initial node was reached 56 hours after the initial injection, suggesting an extended treatment time relative to other subjects. Progress will continue to be monitored.

She considers sending the report early, but that seems a little excessive. As exciting as this is, she’ll have better data by the end of the week, so there’s really no reason to jump ahead of herself. It’s so exciting, though. Twist really could be the key to getting the treatment approved for mass distribution. She’s sure the donor will be thrilled.

chapter 5

#twistfell papyrus #twistfell alphys #medical experiments #soul manipulation #temporary amnesia #past trauma #flashbacks #panic attacks

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rainoverthemountains · 5 years

Text

Twist story chapter 12

Twistfell and everything associated with it belong to @itsladykit

These guys really get away from me. We haven’t yet gotten to some of the events that were originally planned for chapter 4. Meanwhile, they insist on having some pretty strong feelings for what’s probably still a gen fic, or at least gen-ish. But eh, why do relationships always have to fit into neat categories, anyway? I doubt any of these guys would be terribly concerned about it.

chapter 1, chapter 11

Chapter 12

Either the pillow wall works or Twist remembers that moving is a bad idea, because he actually manages to stay in bed this time, to Cash’s relief. He smiles when Cash enters the room but doesn’t say anything, also to Cash’s relief. Twist is reasonably content and not saying ridiculous things that hit Cash in all the wrong places, so everything is as good as it’s probably going to get.

“the kitchen’s cleaned up and i got you some more water.” Not that it was a mess in the first place, but at least the dirty water bottle is in the dishwasher. He hands the refilled bottle to Twist, who again smiles at being able to hold it himself.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He takes a sip. “D’licious as always. Could sell this stuff.”

“not that i’m opposed to taking advantage of the gullibility of the general public, but i think it would take more marketing than either of us want to deal with to convince anyone to buy the water from your kitchen sink.”

“I don’ know ‘bout that. I’ve got a great sales pitch; ‘Guaranteed ta make ya feel like yer soul’s not meltin’ fer at least 15 seconds after ya drink it!’ Sales’ll go through the roof!”

“i suspect it needs some work before it’ll appeal to a general audience.”

“Yer probly right. Might only int’rest a specific type a clientele.” He finishes the bottle, so Cash teleports to the kitchen to get more. He’s not going to be caught unprepared with something as easy to keep on hand as water, especially with this new revelation that Twist’s soul apparently always feels like it’s melting and water makes it go away for a few seconds. It’d have been nice to know about that earlier, but far be it from Twist to ask for something he needs.

Twist accepts the fresh water gratefully, but doesn’t drink much, so maybe he’s feeling better now. “Whatcha rushin’ around so much for, anyway? Tha’s not like ya.”

“have to make sure i’m here to rescue your stupid ass the next time you decide to fling yourself to the floor instead of staying in bed and going to sleep like a normal person.”

“Aww, sweetheart, if I’da known you were so attached ta my ass I’da taken better care a’ it.”

“it’s not so much that i’m attached to it as that i’m tired of picking it up off the floor.”

“Oh come on, it was only one time! An’ it’s a great ass! You should be honored ta be the one ta pick it up!” This is ridiculous, but Twist is grinning, and not that vague, confused smile from earlier either.

“anything to do with your ass is an ‘honor’ i could do without. how about you keep it in bed until you can pick it up yourself?”

“But darlin’, that’d-” the breath catches in his throat as his body goes rigid. His face tightens and his eyelight rolls up into his skull as a strangled whine escapes.

“what’s wrong? twist? fuck.” Another attack? They’re probably lucky to have made it this long without one. But then all the tension leaves Twist’s body. “twist?” Twist blinks.

“Wha?”

“what happened? is it over?”

“I… I don’…”

“what was that?” Surely it wasn’t an attack. Nodes don’t dissolve that fast. Do they?

“Dunno… it… I – hnnn!” His back arches and his face twists in agony. Then he collapses again, panting.

“what’s happening? i haven’t seen this before. has it happened before?”

“Dunno… felt… it felt like when… like a node thing, but FUCK!” His claws dig into the blanket underneath him, then relax again. “I think this’s new. Wish it’d stop.” Head dropping limply to the side, he lays panting for a few moments while Cash watches in concern. Maybe it’s nothing to worry about. If it lasted even a little longer, he’d say it was definitely a node. Iggy reported a wide range of variation in node dissolution time. Maybe even a couple of seconds is normal, what does he know? And she clearly never bothered to inform Twist about what to expect, so it’s not surprising that he wouldn’t know either. But three times in a row? That’s not in any report he’s read.

Twist screams, then whines again, hands curling up against his ribs. Ok, this is definitely not normal. He’s almost sure of it. Except how can he be sure about anything? For all that he’s studied the reports and Twist’s personal experience with it, they know next to nothing about this treatment. They need more information.

“Patches, uh, sweetheart, uh, I think… sumthin’s wrong. I don’ think this’s normal. ‘s all kinda a blur, and it’s hard ta tell when one thing stops an’ another starts. But I think it’s s’posed ta last longer ‘n that an’ I don’ think it starts again so fast. But maybe not? I… I don’-” Then the pain comes again. Then it leaves. Then again, and again, as they soon lose count. It’s not a completely regular pattern. Sometimes there are only seconds between bursts of pain, sometimes nearly a minute, but they never stop.

Not knowing when the next one will start is almost as bad as the pain itself. During the first of the longer pauses they both start to relax, thinking it might be over, before a wave of pain hits hard enough to briefly knock Twist unconscious until the next wave drags him back to awareness. Now he’s constantly tense, curled up in anticipation of the next wave even when they pause long enough for him to speak somewhat normally. Neither of them knows what to do.

“Dunno what’s happenin’. I don’… is sumthin’ wrong?” How’s Cash supposed to know? Everything’s wrong, but is this more wrong than normal?

“do you remember anything at all like this happening, or iggy mentioning anything? anything at all?”

“Dunno. Don’ think it’s done this before, don’t know hhhhhhg,” scrabbling at his ribs, one hand finds its way into his ribcage and gropes blindly for his soul. Cash grabs the hand before it does any damage, and Twist clings to him until the pain recedes.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Hate ta think what it’d do if I got ahold a my soul like that. ‘s just what I need shit,” his hand clamps down on Cash’s, claws digging into the joints. Cash yelps but he won’t pull away because he decided back in the lab that he won’t do that to Twist again and he still won’t. And what if Twist goes for his soul again? He’d shred it if he held it like he’s holding Cash’s hand, so Cash can’t pull away, but if it doesn’t stop soon Cash might end up with a few less fingers.

Twist’s eyes blink open then dart to where he’s crushing Cash’s hand, which he drops like a hot iron. “Sorry,” he moans, “so sorry darlin, didn’t mean ta, didn’ even realize.”

“it’s fine. i’m more concerned about you. what can i do to help you?”

“Dunno. Can’t… jus’ don’ touch me cause I can’t…” Is that because he doesn’t want to be touched or because he’s afraid of hurting Cash? And what’s happening? He’s only seen one example of a node dissolving; is this normal or has something gone wrong? Should he call Iggy? Hours after telling her off and taking Twist away to take care of him himself?

Twist’s back arches and he digs his claws into the bed. He falls back to the bed and pants in exhaustion, then tenses again and bangs his skull against the pillow hard enough that the bedframe shakes. Cash grabs his skull to stop him, but lets go when he moans and pulls away.

“stop that. you don’t need brain damage on top of everything else.” The headbanging doesn’t return, but this time Twist doesn’t relax at all as they wait for the next attack.

“Please don’ touch me. Don’ wanna hurt ya, sweetheart.”

“i’m not the one getting hurt here, idiot. just let me help you.”

“How? C’n ya make it stop?” Why does he have to sound so hopeful? Of course Cash can’t make it stop! Cash can’t do anything, and why did he ever think he could help with this? He doesn’t know anything about this treatment, and even if he gets all of Iggy’s reports, how does he know any of it applies in Twist’s case? Fucking idiot, signing himself up for a treatment that’s only been tested on monsters with half his LV. If Cash had to start caring about someone, why couldn’t it have been someone with a halfway-decent sense of self-preservation? And why can’t Twist have someone to look after him who has half a clue what he’s doing? Instead all he has is Cash.

Twist screams again, and then he’s reaching for his soul again, and there’s no way Cash is letting him do himself irreversible damage just because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot who thinks Cash is too fragile to hold his hand. He grabs the hand that’s trying to grab Twist’s soul and grits his teeth at the claws that inevitably find his joints, wiping the expression from his face when Twist’s eyes open so the idiot doesn’t decide he’s breaking Cash’s hand or something.

“So sorry, darlin’. Just please don’ touch me. Please? Don’ know what’s happenin’ an’ I don’ wanna hurt ya.”

“i’m not letting you hurt yourself. the worst you’ve done is scratch me. i think you’re pretty harmless at the moment.”

“But what if ’m not? This thing keeps lettin’ me get better in between so I’m stronger than ‘m s’posed ta be, an’ I keep fergettin’ that I gotta stay in control now, so I don’ know what I could do when I don’ know what I’m doin’.”

“what do you mean, you have to stay in control now?

“Haven’t had ta worry ‘bout it since the medicine fucked me up too bad ta hurt anyone, but when it started I was a mess. ‘s part’a why Iggy had ta tie me up. Every time I got free, I did sumthin’ bad, even though she was jus’ tryna help me. Didn’t mean ta, but I kept doin’ it anyway, an’ I don’ wanna hurt ya, sweetheart.

“are you saying you want to be tied up again?”

“No! Or, or if this keeps goin’ on, maybe?” He shudders, but presses on. “It screws with my head, darlin’, it really… ghhhhhhhh, shit… really, really screws with my head, and I shouldn’t be able ta move by now, but I still can, so I don’ know what I’ll do, an’ the whole point was so I don’ hurt anyone but now I’m so fucked up I might anyway an’ I can’t-”

“are you trying to hurt me?”

“No! Sweetheart, no, I’m tryin’ not ta but I ferget an’-”

“then stop worrying about it. i’m not going to dust from a few accidental scratches. you will dust if you crush your own soul. i don’t know what’s happening to you, but you hurting me is the least of my concerns.”

“Ya don’ know that, darlin’. What if I ferget who ya are? I do that sometimes, an’ what if mmmmm…” he trails off in a moan and tries to pull his hand away from Cash. Tries and fails, of course, because he’s weak as a babybones and about as much of a threat as one, too, whatever he might think.

Cash holds onto Twist through several more short attacks, eventually holding onto both hands as Twist seems determined to get to his soul. The first time Twist regains awareness with both hands restrained, he panics, so Cash lets go. After that, Cash makes sure to keep away from his wrists and Twist stays calm. Having solved the immediate problem of keeping Twist from hurting himself, Cash turns his attention to the bigger problem of what’s happening to Twist. Unfortunately, he’s no closer to an answer, and a glance at the clock shows it’s been going on for nearly half an hour with no sign of ending. What would a sign even be? He doesn’t know enough about this, but he so doesn’t want to consult with Iggy.

Twist looks and sounds completely fried. He never relaxes for fear of the next attack, which come at random intervals and with random intensities. He’s stopped telling Cash not to touch him, and just looks guiltily at any new scratches that appear on his hands. Mostly, though, he stares at the ceiling. He’s done that far too much since the treatment started.

“Wish it’d stop.” That’s an understatement if Cash has ever heard one. He’s rarely felt more helpless.

“maybe i should call iggy.” He hates to even suggest it, especially when the breath catches in Twist’s ribcage and his socket widens in fear, but what if something is really wrong and he doesn’t know how to recognize it, or what if there’s something he should be doing, or-

“Ok.” Shit, Twist sounds so resigned. Why won’t he argue when he doesn’t like something? Is he resigned because he doesn’t want to see Iggy but agrees they need her help, or because he doesn’t want anything to do with her but doesn’t think Cash will listen to him any better than she did?

“i don’t trust her, but she knows more about this treatment than either of us, and this can’t continue.” Twist’s face falls, and he looks away with an expression of… guilt? Wait, why’s he guilty?

“Ok. Sorry.”

“what are you sorry for? you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sorry ya went ta so much trouble ta get me outta there an’ it didn’t work.”

“it didn’t work? seems to me like it worked just fine, considering that this is your bedroom and not a lab.” He’s got to get better at interpreting Twist’s disconnected statements. There’s always something he needs to know in there, but it’s hard to find.

“Yeah but now ya gotta take me back.”

“what!?”

“Sorry, I know ‘m too hard ta take care of, I don’ blame ya an’ it was real nice ta be away from there fer awhile, but I already hurt ya an’ yer too nice ta tie me up an’ my self-control is shit an’ I’m too much trouble ta take care of and now there’s this new thing goin’ on an’ I don’ know what it is either so I know ya gotta take me back an’-”

“shut the fuck up. i’m not taking you back there. after everything she did, you think i’m going to just leave you there again? what kind of an asshole do you think i am?” Twist is stunned into silence.

“she did a terrible job of taking care of you. it was her job and she didn’t even try, and don’t give me that bullshit about it being your fault or it being worth it to get rid of your lv. she should have done better and there’s no excuse, and i will never leave you back in that lab. if i had a problem with anything you’ve done, i’d have said so. do i look like a pushover to you?”

Wide-eyed, Twist whispers, “no, but sweetheart…”

“but what?”

Twist briefly whimpers and shudders in pain, but then pushes through it. “Patches, I…” he clears his throat. “I don’t… but you said…”

“i said we should call her. to ask what’s going on. not to send you back. you’re not going back.”

“Oh.” His sockets close in relief. He actually thought Cash would take him back to that lab and leave him there. Cash honestly can’t decide if that says more about Twist’s non-existent sense of self-worth or his opinion of Cash. He knows he’s an ass, but does he really come off as the kind of person who would do that to his friend? Yeah, they’re friends. Just because he doesn’t advertise it to the whole world doesn’t mean he’s not attached to the idiot, and he thought the idiot knew that. On the other hand, he’s pretty sure Twist doesn’t consider himself to be worth much of anything to anyone, and the way that bitch kept blaming everything on him can’t have helped, so maybe he really did think sending him back there was something a reasonable person would do? What the hell is Cash supposed to do with that? He’s not the one to help someone else with their psychological problems. Even if it is Twist. Fuck he wants to be good enough to help Twist.

The attacks just keep coming. Twist is completely drained, and also terrified. He won’t say it, but he is. He’s constantly shaking, and stopped talking soon after the conversation about calling Iggy. He’s also getting weaker. Whereas at first a bad attack could leave deep scratches on Cash’s hands, now it barely causes Twist to tense. This can’t go on. Cash is calling Iggy.

Twist probably doesn’t have the strength or coordination to hurt himself anymore, so Cash gently lays his hands at his sides to go get his phone. Iggy answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“this is cash. i need information about twist’s treatment.”

“Oh good, I’m glad you called, because you left way too quickly and I didn’t get to tell you more than the bare minimum, which really isn’t enough for the condition he’s in. If you’d just bring him back by the lab I’ll look him over and give you some more thorough instructions for treatment and monitoring-”

“he’s not coming back to the lab except on the schedule we already agreed to. if you need to ‘look him over’ you can come here. right now, i need you to tell me whether what’s happening is a problem, and if it is, i need to know what to do about it.”

“That would be a lot easier in the lab-”

“he’s not going.”

“But if you’ll describe his symptoms, I’ll see what I can tell you.” Don’t piss her off. They need her help, so don’t piss her off, however much she pisses him off.

“it’s like some extremely shortened version of that attack i saw in the lab, only a few seconds at a time, but it’s been happening for the past,” he checks his watch, “40 minutes, with pauses between five seconds and one minute.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s definitely good you called me. It sounds like there’s a buildup of corrupted magic somewhere-”

“what?!”

“Oh, it’s not as bad as it sounds, don’t worry, it’s just a byproduct that his soul shouldn’t have any trouble dealing with, even in its current condition, except that it can build up in one area beyond what that part of the soul can deal with and start causing problems. It’s relatively rare, but I should’ve expected it with him because of the amount of LV we’re dealing with. It would normally clear on its own but it might have gotten concentrated enough to disrupt the primary mana flow, which would interfere with the normal repurification process.”

“and that’s what’s causing his symptoms?”

“Yeah, probably, I mean it would be easier to tell if I could see it in person and we won’t know for sure until you examine his soul for the dark spot where it’s built up, but it’s definitely the best explanation for what you’re describing. The concentrated corrupted magic tends to send shocks through the whole system, which probably feel a lot like a node dissolving because they follow the same mana pathways. You really should have called me earlier, that could be really dangerous.”

“how was i supposed to know that when you didn’t tell me?”

“This is why you shouldn’t have taken him out of the lab. You don’t know enough to recognize a problem and his high LV means he’s almost guaranteed to experience some problems that were rare in my other subjects.”

“then tell me what to look for, like you should have done when i told you i was taking him.”

“I’ll work on writing up a list of warning signs and what they might mean, but it’s hard to classify every possible problem, so it’s really best if you just call me whenever anything seems even slightly odd. It would be even better if you’d bring him back here where he’d be safe, but since you won’t do that, at least keep in phone contact.”

“fine, i’ve called you, and you’ve told me what the problem is. now what should i do about it?

“It’s pretty easy to fix as long as that’s what the problem actually is. You’ll just need to take out his soul and find the dark spot. If there isn’t one, you’re going to have to bring him in, because that means something else is wrong that I can’t diagnose over the phone, but if it’s there, you just need to massage the affected area to break up the corrupted magic and get his circulation going again. His soul should take care of the rest. It’ll be oversensitive so you might get a negative reaction. I’d say restrain him but you’d probably get all offended so at least get out of reach of his claws. You might not care about him clawing you but I bet you’ll care if he makes you drop his soul.”

“i’ll handle it.” Stars, she talks about souls like they’re just some random object, like anyone can just pick them up and fuck around with them and not like they’re something that shouldn’t be touched except under specific circumstances in the kind of relationship they do not have. He’s reminded of Twist’s minimal reaction when she switched him to the smaller monitor. It was like he’d been desensitized to having his soul screwed around with, probably because he had. Cash wants to kill her. He wants to kill her so badly, but they need her, and right now he’s wasting time.

“You’d better get on with it,” she echoes his thoughts. “He should be perfectly fine if you fix it soon, but if it goes on too long it will kill him.”

“what?!” That sounds like something she knows from experience, which means this has killed someone before. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. “why didn’t you tell me this could kill him?!”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“how could it be obvious when you were talking about it like some minor scientific curiosity?!”

“I was not! I was just giving you the facts – no, this is stupid. I’m not letting an argument kill my patient.” Now she’s going to act like the one trying to look out for Twist?! Where does she get off – no. She’s right about that, this is stupid, and it’s wasting time.

“so i need to get his soul and look for a dark spot? i’m putting you on speaker phone.”

“Yeah, it should show up pretty clearly against the color of his magic. Tell me when you’ve found it before you do anything; I want to make sure it is what I think it is. Actually, can you text me a picture?”

“sure.” Now he has to take out Twist’s soul. He knew he’d have to do something with it when he took over the treatment, but now that he has to actually take it, it seems horribly invasive. He’s not the kind of monster who would touch another monster’s soul without their permission. That’s just an absolutely disgusting thing to do. It’s different in a fight. That’s using magic against an opponent, not the same thing at all. Not that Twist is going to object to saving his life, but it still seems repugnant, especially with him barely conscious and unresponsive. Stars, if he’s not going to be able to agree to this then it would be easier if he was completely unconscious instead of vaguely staring in Cash’s direction and twitching every few seconds.

“Have you found it yet? Don’t tell me you’re getting squeamish. If you can’t do it, you’d better bring him back here right now because he’s not going to survive living with someone who’s afraid to touch his soul.”

“fuck off.” Twist isn’t going to die because Cash has developed a sudden, inconvenient respect for personal space. He reaches into Twist’s ribcage and forces himself to gently close his hand around Twist’s soul, a task made both easier and harder by the complete lack of a reaction from Twist. Taking care not to bump into any ribs or apply any unnecessary pressure whatsoever, he draws the soul into the open air and then cradles it in both open hands to examine it. Most of the surface is the same as the first time he saw it in the lab, off-colored and raw with pieces scooped out that he now knows are from however she scraped off all of the calcification to make injections easier. He has to turn it over to find what he’s looking for; a darkened area about the size of a penny. He takes a picture and sends it to Iggy, despite reservations that it’s probably not good to send around pictures of someone’s soul.

“if i find that all over the internet tomorrow, i’ll know who’s responsible.”

“Are you seriously implying that I’d post my patient’s medical information on the internet? What kind of doctor do you think I am?”

“a scientist, not a doctor, and it would fit in with the rest of your ethical standards. now what’s the diagnosis? is it what you thought it was?”

“Definitely, and it’s getting pretty bad, but we caught it in time. All you need to do is gently rub the discolored area until the discoloration goes away. It shouldn’t take long. Don’t press too hard because bruising will just make it worse.”

Fantastic. Now not only is he holding Twist’s soul without his permission while Twist stares at him blankly, he has to massage it. Could this get any worse? Well, yes, of course it could, he could stand around whining about it until Twist dies. That would be worse. So stop complaining and do what needs to be done.

“sorry, twisted, i’ll put it back as soon as i can.” Not that Twist seems likely to hear him, but Cash explains his actions just in case he can as he begins to rub the affected area. “i’m sure this feels strange. i’m not sure how much you heard of what iggy said, but the reason i’m doing this is to fix your magic circulation, which will make you feel better.”

“He can’t hear you. He’s got to be too far out of it by now.”

“you have no way of knowing whether that’s true, and i’d rather risk talking to someone who can’t hear me than him being aware enough to know someone is doing something to his soul but not knowing why.” She must not have a counter argument for that because she doesn’t respond. Cash never does see the negative reaction she warned him about, but then, Twist isn’t reacting to anything.

Gradually, the color of the dark patch fades, at first diffusing into the surrounding area and then disappearing completely over the next couple of minutes. “i think the color is gone. i don’t see it anymore.”

“Good. He’s probably fine now. If it’s faded enough to no longer be visible then it’s at a low enough concentration that he should be able to deal with it. Is he conscious?”

“his eyes are open but he’s not reacting.”

“Any signs of more of those mini-attacks?”

“no, but i’m not sure he’d react to one if it happened at this point.”

“Hmm. He’s probably fine, but it’s hard to be sure while he’s unresponsive. Maybe hang on to his soul for a minute or two to keep an eye on the color, and then if nothing’s happened you can put it back. You shouldn’t need me unless something changes so I’m going to get back to work. Call me if the color changes again or if he has another mini-attack, or if anything else happens.”

“ok. when can i expect the more detailed set of care instructions and warning signs?”

“I’ll get it to you as soon as possible. Like I said, it’s hard to write everything out because so much of it is just things I recognize from experience, and he’s going to be different from the other research subjects anyway, but I’ll see what I can come up with. I really need to get back to work now, unless there’s anything else you need?”

“no, just get me that information.”

“As soon as possible, yep. Bye.” She hangs up, leaving Cash with nothing to do but sit staring at Twist’s soul in his hands. It’s not doing anything, but he’d hate to put it back too early and let the whole thing happen all over again. With the urgency gone from the situation, it has become incredibly awkward. He really hopes Twist is too out of it to know what’s happening and that he stays that way for a while longer.

Of course, he can’t have that kind of luck. Twist blinks at him, and then his blank stare turns to one of confusion.

“Hey, uh, watcha doin’, sweetheart?” The hoarse whisper makes heat rise in Cash’s cheekbones. No, no, absolutely not. This is all part of a medical treatment, nothing weird about it at all. Just act normal.

“there was a problem with your magic that disrupted its flow in your soul. i had to break it up manually to get it working again.”

“Oh, tha’s fine, then. Havin’ all sorts’a problems with my magic.” They both stare at each other for a moment. “C’n I have it back now?”

“huh? oh, yeah, here.” Cash returns Twist’s soul perhaps a little more quickly and less carefully than he would like, but Twist doesn’t seem to mind. He seems very relieved.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Yer always… yer so… thanks.” That sounds like more than thanks for ending an awkward situation. Why does he feel like he’s being thanked for giving it back at all? Twist is never going back to that lab. Except his agreement with Iggy was to bring him back once a week, so that’s not really possible. That’s for later, though. For now, focus on what Twist needs now.

“do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah, most’a it, at least. Not really sure what happened towards the end. Sorry ‘bout yer hands.”

“my hands are fine.” Actually, they sting pretty badly, but there’s no way he’s telling Twist that.

“Don’ look fine.”

“it’s just a few scratches, nothing to worry about.”

“If ya say so.” But he looks absolutely miserable about it. Why is he more upset about Cash’s hands than the fact that his own soul can randomly decide to torture him in new and creative ways that may or may not have the potential to kill him, with his only line of defense being Cash, who has no idea what he’s doing?

“i talked to iggy.”

“Kinda remember that. She told ya how ta fix me?”

“how fix this particular problem, at least. it seems there’s a lot she didn’t get around to telling us. she’s supposed to send more information soon.”

“Tha’s good. Be nice ta know wha’s happenin’ ta me sometimes.”

“you should already know what’s happening to you. she should have warned you about everything that could happen.”

“Not like I’da changed my mind, though. Ain’t gonna give up a cure just cuz’a sumthin’ like this.”

“but you could at least have known what to expect so things like this don’t hit you out of nowhere.”

“Probly woulda fergot, anyway. Pretty much had ta accept that I ain’t got a clue what’s happenin’ ta me most’a the time now. Ain’t so bad now I’m home.” He smiles reassuringly at Cash.

“would you stop trying to make me feel better?! you’re the one who’s hurt, not me. and stop justifying everything she does. she treated you terribly and you just keep repeating her excuses!”

“Eh, she’s as Fell as the rest’a us, an’ she never claimed ta be the motherly type. Ain’t none a us with clean hands, an’ I don’ expect ‘er ta make an exception fer me. I’ve got my cure an’ she kept me alive. ‘s ‘bout all I expected.”

“maybe you need higher expectations.”

“Could say the same fer you.” What the fuck is that suppose to mean? “Look, sweetheart, ‘m real tired. I think that kinda fried me. Think I could try ta get some sleep fer a while?” Cash takes a moment to actually look at Twist, and realizes that he looks as bad as he did in the lab. Shit, what’s he doing? He’s arguing with Twist after Twist just spent nearly an hour in agony, and now he’s keeping him awake when he might have a few minutes to actually rest.

“of course you can sleep. you don’t need my permission. just tell me to shut up if i’m keeping you awake.” That gets a weak smile in return. “do you want some water first?” It’s surprising that he’s doing this well without water.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, darlin’.” He needs help holding the bottle, but gulps down the whole thing. Shit, has he been thirsty the whole time Cash was arguing with him? Why didn’t he say something?

“tell me when you’re that thirsty. don’t wait for me to ask or for a good time or whatever it is. it’s not that hard to get you water. you’re not making anything easier by ignoring what you need.”

“k. Jus’… we were busy talkin’.”

“we can talk after you’re not dying of thirst.”

“Wasn’t dying.”

“fine, when you’re not thirsty enough to drink a whole water bottle. and a few minutes ago you were dying, so maybe think about that the next time you decide to ignore what you need because you don’t think it’s important enough to inconvenience someone.”

“That ain’t got nothin’ ta do with bein’ thirsty. Shit like that comes outta nowhere, an’ there’s nothin’ we c’n do ‘bout it so-”

“we don’t know that. we don’t know what causes any of this, and we don’t know what might make the difference between shit that leaves you laughing about it a minute later and shit that leaves you dust. you can brush it off and claim it’s all worth it, but if I considered your death an acceptable outcome i’d have left you on the path you were on before i paid for this fucking project.”

“Aw, Patches. You were really worried, weren’t ya?”

“of course i was worried! there’s an experimental medicine dissolving parts of your soul, and you don’t seem to care! and neither does your doctor! and i’m the only one here to take care of you, and i can’t rely on you to tell me what you need, and i’m trying to figure it out but i don’t know what you need because this isn’t the kind of thing i do. so don’t tell me everything’s fine and don’t ignore what you need.”

“It jus’ don’t seem like that big a deal.”

“none of your problems are ever a big deal, are they? you just keep smiling like nothing’s wrong while secretly planning how to kill yourself when you can’t pretend everything is fine anymore, like you could somehow make it ok for you to just be gone and like you’re the one to decide that you don’t matter enough for anyone to put the slightest effort into keeping you around.”

“I didn’t want to! I jus’ couldn’ see how ta…”

“how to solve the whole problem yourself without letting anyone else realize how bad it was? how there could possibly ever be a solution to a problem that you knew people were already working on solving? what would have happened if i hadn’t found that list? i knew the lv project existed, but i’d never paid much attention to it because as far as i knew, everything was fine on the surface so we had plenty of time for someone else to figure it out. i didn’t know that you, of all people, were giving up.”

“I didn’ give up! Fuck, sweetheart, ya act like I was ‘bout ta off myself tamorrow! Ya think I wasn’ tryin’ ta hang on? I had a pretty good life goin’ fer myself, an’ I wasn’t in no hurry ta leave it. I toldja that. Jus’ didn’ want ta leave ever’thin’ up ta chance an’ risk waitin’ too long an’ doin’ sumthin’ I’d hate myself for. Jus’ wan’ed ta make sure I’d always be me! An’ it don’ matter now anyway, cause you fixed it! Stars, darlin’, ya fixed it, so sorry if I don’ seem too worried if things get a li’l painful er a li’l dang’rous, or even a lot painful an’ dang’rous, cause I’m gettin’ my whole life back an’ I don’ really care what happens in between.”

“but you’re still doing the same thing. you’re still pretending everything is fine when it’s not and ignoring what you need.”

“I’ve asked ya fer plenty’a things!”

“but you’ve also not asked me for plenty of things, and that’s a problem, because i don’t think you take problems seriously enough when they’re your problems. do you really think it causes me more trouble to pause our conversation and get you some water than it causes you to not have water when you’re thirsty enough to drink the whole bottle?”

“No, but, ‘s just… I dunno. Think ‘m too tired fer this, sweetheart. An’ that is sumthin’ I’m askin’ for. C’n I sleep now? Ya said I could.” Fuck. Now he’s kept Twist awake just to yell at him. This is why he shouldn’t try to take care of people. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. How does Twist do it when Cash is too caught up in his own bullshit to function? Not by yelling at him, that’s for sure.

“yes, you can sleep. sorry for keeping you awake.”

“Nah, ‘s fine. I know yer just worried. An’ maybe ya got a point, ‘bout askin fer things. Jus’ don’ wanna be too much trouble.”

“you’re not too much trouble. you’re plenty of trouble, but not because of asking for things, and do you know how much i just paid to keep you around? would i have done that if i thought you were too much trouble? have you ever known me to throw my money away?” That gets a smile. A small one, but it’s there.

“Nah, you never waste money. Can’t say I always see the point in what ya buy, but ya never throw it away.”

“then what does that say about you?”

“That there’s no accountin’ fer taste?” Cash glares. “Yeah, yeah, it means ya wanna keep me around. Ya ain’t gotta worry, sweetheart. I wanna keep me around too. Jus’ still comin’ ‘round ta the idea that that’s sumthin’ I c’n actually do.”

“well it is, and i don’t intend to let my investment go to waste, so i expect you to help out by telling me when you need something.”

“Ok. I really am tired, Patches. C’n I sleep now?”

“yes, go to sleep. are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”

“My blanket, maybe? Startin’ ta get cold.” Cash untangles the blanket from where it’s wrapped itself around Twist’s feet and lightly lays it over him. Twist snuggles up in the blanket, which is absolutely not at all adorable except somehow it is, and falls asleep. Cash brings an armchair over to the bed and settles in to keep watch.

chapter 13

#twistfell papyrus #swaptwistfell papyrus #twistfell alphys #hurt/comfort #soul manipulation #internalized victim-blaming #discussion of suicide #no one meant for that conversation to go that deep #not me and not them #it just kind of happened #medical experimentation

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rainoverthemountains · 5 years

Text

Twist story chapter 8

Twistfell and Swaptwistfell belong to @itsladykit

chapter 1, chapter 7

Chapter 8

A door slamming open startles Iggy out of her chair. For a moment, she thinks it’s Twist, but he couldn’t possibly have gotten out of bed and besides, the sound came from outside the lab. Another door slams, and then it’s her office door slamming open as a skeleton steps through. Well, shit.

“where is he?”

“Who are you?” she counters. He has a lot of nerve, storming into her lab like he has a right to be here!

“i go by cash. where’s twist?” Shit, shit, shit. He knows! Or maybe he’s just guessing somehow. Who is he to barge in here anyway?

“Look, Cash, I don’t know who you are or why you think you can come into my lab without permission like this, but I’d suggest you leave before I have you removed.”

“answer the question. i know twist is here. you have him for the lv project. take me to him, now.”

“You can’t just come in here and demand to see details of my projects. That’s proprietary work and certainly not open to the general public!” It’s at least not available to interfering skeletons who are definitely going to object to certain necessary parts of the experiment.

“you told me about it yesterday. now i want to see twist.” What? She didn’t tell anyone anything yesterday. Except… no. He can’t be. Her luck is not that bad.

“You’re not…” it seems ludicrous to even suggest, but the universes can be very different and he did say his nickname was Cash…

“the person who’s paying for all this? yes. now that we have that out of the way, where’s twist?”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Ok, time for damage control. He must agree with the goals of the project or he wouldn’t be paying for it, so she just needs to make him understand that she has everything under control and it should be fine.

“He’s resting right now. I’m sure you know from the reports that the treatment can be hard on the patients and they need lots of rest. He’s happiest when I just leave him alone to sleep.” He looks skeptical, but he’s listening, so she continues. “I’m so grateful that he volunteered to participate in this study, as I’m sure you are too! He’s just what we need to get past the review board, and it’s great for him too because he gets the treatment early!”

“he volunteered, huh? and how did he know there was something to volunteer for?”

“Oh, word gets around.” Technically. People do know the project exists, and someone might have heard about the problems it’s been having.

“word gets around that the only thing standing between you and full approval of the lv cure was needing a research subject exactly like twist.” Skepticism drips from every word.

“Well ok, not exactly like that, but you have to agree that he’s perfect for what we need, and he jumped right on the idea the second I mentioned it. It’s not like I forced him into it. Once he knew about it, I probably couldn’t have kept him away from it if I tried! He knew it was a win-win situation.”

“and how has this ‘win-win situation’ turned out for him?”

“It’s going great!” Cash raises a browbone. “I mean, he’s not really feeling that great right now, I’ve told you how the side effects are, but he’s hanging in there and I’m taking good care of him. Like I said in my report, I’ve already seen some EXP destabilization, which is pretty good considering just how much of it we’re dealing with. I think he’s getting frustrated by how long it’s taking to get any results, but he was really happy about the destabilization too, and I’ve told him that it could take a while with how high his LV is. Mostly he’s grumpy, and a little uncooperative, but he agrees with my goals and I have everything managed!”

“so you won’t mind if i talk to him myself, then?” Are all skeletons this difficult? Letting this one talk to Twist will be nothing but trouble.

“I don’t think he’s really up to talking right now. He’s pretty tired, and he needs his energy for the treatment, so I don’t want to disturb his rest.” All technically true, just leaving out a few unpleasant details that someone too close to the subject isn’t going to understand. How close is this Cash to Twist, anyway? She doesn’t know anything about him, but the skeletons all seem to flock together, and he obviously at least knows him.

“i won’t wake him up, then, but i am going to see him.”

“There’s really no need for that! He’s fine. He just needs to rest.” This project does not need interfering friends and family. It could derail the whole thing. Especially friends and family who are apparently the source of most of the project’s money.

“the longer we argue, the more suspicious i get. i suggest you quit while you’re already behind. is that your lab?” He gestures towards the door opposite the one he entered. “i’m guessing yes.” Without waiting for any response from Iggy, he heads through the door. Panicked, and hoping Twist is having a relatively good afternoon, Iggy rushes after him, only to have her own door slammed in her face and locked. Damn excessive security measures. This door shouldn’t be so easily lockable.

***

Cash doesn’t know what he was expecting to see upon entering the lab, but Twist lying naked on a bed in the middle of the room wasn’t it. He approaches the bed cautiously.

Twist looks terrible. He’s sleeping on his back with both arms tied to the bed. She fucking didn’t! He’ll kill her. Wires trail out of his ribcage, the ends buried in a soul that glows a pale, sickly yellow, the surface raw and somehow rough looking, like pieces have been scooped out. The rest of his magic is the same color as his soul, glowing around each joint like it never should in a healthy sleeping skeleton. Partially healed scratches cover his ribs, and inside his ribcage are what look like scorch marks. Scorch marks?! His breathing is shallow, and he’s twitching in his sleep. Honestly, he looks like he’s about to dust. A quick check reveals that his HP is fine, but it’s hard to discount the sight in front of him. Nausea and rage rise simultaneously, but he forces them both down to deal with the situation in front of him. Figure out what’s going on first. Don’t do anything that might screw up the treatment.

Trying to convince himself that Twist isn’t about to shatter any second now, Cash reaches out to touch his arm. The response is immediate. Twist startles awake and stares at him through frightened, hollow sockets. Then he blinks, and recognition sets in.

“Patches?” Cash never thought he’d be so glad to hear that ridiculous nickname, even in a voice that sounds like sandpaper. “Patches!” A grin lights up Twist’s face, bringing life back into his whole demeanor. He starts to reach for Cash, only to have the movement stopped by the straps around his arms. He deflates, looking as bad as he did when Cash first entered the room. Oh, right, someone strapped him to the bed. There better be a damn good explanation for that, but Cash isn’t feeling optimistic.

“what are those for?” He gestures to the straps.

“Dunno. Pissed her off, maybe.” Twist’s voice is flat, like he doesn’t have any strong opinions about it. Or like he won’t let himself have an opinion.

“she strapped you to the bed because you maybe pissed her off?”

“Dunno.”

“did she at least tell you why she was strapping you to the bed?”

“Maybe. Dunno.” Twist pauses to catch his breath. “Don’ think ’m thinkin’ real good right now, Patches.” His voice is getting stronger with use, but doesn’t lose its raspy quality.

“because you��re normally known for your clear thinking.” The jab gets a faint grin.

“Good ta see ya too, Patches. Patches.” His smile widens.

“yeah, that’s the name you, and only you, like to call me. glad you’re enjoying it.” All sarcasm aside, Twist seems incredibly happy to see him. Not that Twist is ever lacking in enthusiasm, but something seems off about it, especially when combined with everything else about his current state.

“So good ta see ya, darlin. Can’t even tell ya. ‘s great. Patches. Patches!”

“no need to yell. i’m right here. not that that usually stops you.”

“Jus’ haven’ seen ya in so long, Patches. ‘s nice ta see ya again.”

“twist, it’s been a week, maybe a little longer. that’s not that long.”

Twist’s browbones furrow in confusion. “That can’t be right, sweetheart. Been here a lot longer ‘n that.”

“you’ve been here six days.”

“Nah, couldn’ta been six days. Cause I remember… Lots’a stuff.” He shakes his head. “Not sure, ‘s all kinda a mess, but she’s had me a lot longer ‘n six days.”

“twist. i have access to your treatment report. you’ve been here six days. you were bothering me at home eight days ago.”

“Nah, can’t be right. Too many things’ve happened, an’ some’a them couldn’ta happened in six days. I remember ‘em.” He sounds certain, but Cash definitely saw him eight days ago. It’s hard to forget a tall, loud skeleton showing up on your couch and refusing to leave until you watch some stupid sort of entertaining show with him.

Twist must sense his disbelief. “‘m tellin’ ya, darlin, I’ve been here awhile. Don’ really wanna talk ‘bout it, but jus’ believe me. Wait!” Twist’s sockets widen. “Why’re you here? Ya shouldn’t be here. ‘s not safe. She’ll get you too!” This is clearly a horrifying thought from Twist’s perspective, but Cash has no idea what he’s talking about.

“who’ll get me? Iggy?” Twist nods, then shakes his head, then starts to nod again, then shrugs.

“Dunno. Just… ‘s not good. Ya don’ wanna be here, darlin’. Go home.” Twist’s expression darkens as he speaks. So does Cash’s. The things Twist is saying don’t paint a positive picture of his time here. Cash knows about the side effects of the treatment. Iggy detailed them extensively with some of the earlier research subjects, and her report mentioned that Twist was experiencing some of them. But how he’s acting combined with his physical condition, combined with the restraints around his arms, and then Iggy’s attempts to keep Cash from seeing Twist… He doesn’t like how it’s all coming together.

“why don’t I want to be here?” Twist just shakes his head.

“twisted. answer me. why don’t i want to be here? do you want to be here?”

“Dunno. No, that’s… Yes! Darlin’, do ya know what she’s doin’? She’s curin’ LV!”

“i know, and that’s great, but-”

“Doncha un’erstand, sweetheart? My LV’ll be gone! Er, prob’ly. Might not work, ‘m not really sure, but ‘s doing somethin’, so I wanna stay, ‘cause it don’ matter what else happens if it works, an’ it’s workin! Prob’ly. I think. But I dunno. Think tha’s it, but it don’t really make sense, an’ I don’ know why she’d do that ‘cause she don’ do things like that, but she is so I thought maybe it wasn’ her, but they’re kinda the same but she’s helpin’ me so I jus’ need ta go along wit’ it an’ cooperate, ‘cause she said do that, but now yer here an’ I don’ think you should be around her ‘cause I’m stuck but you don’ gotta be here so I wish you’d go home an’ be safe, darlin.”

“um. what?” Twist looks very serious, like he’s just conveyed some important information, but Cash is lost.

“Go home, darlin. ‘s not good ta be here. Fer you. Uh… go home.” Well that clarifies nothing. Twist might not be the best source of information at the moment. The problem is, Iggy isn’t either, and any reports she might give him access to probably aren’t any better.

“i’m not leaving until i know what’s going on here. why are you in this condition?”

“Sweetheart, Patches, um, Cash… uh… It’s a cure! Didn’ I tell ya? Thought I did. Could be wrong. ‘m not thinkin’ that great.”

“i know it’s a cure for lv. what i don’t understand is how curing lv involves you being strapped to a hospital bed, naked, alone, with a medicine that’s dissolving parts of your soul, causes sudden HP drops, and is apparently scorching your ribs. and now you want me to leave you here.”

“‘s ok. See, ‘ve got…” he gestures vaguely towards the monitor, “that thing. ‘an I had another one when I had a bath so we wouldn’t haveta drag that thing in the water an break it, an’ it says my HP all the time so Iggy knows if it drops so she c’n gimme more.” Cash mentally notes the existence of something less cumbersome than the giant monitor that Twist is plugged into, but avoids interrupting the most useful information he’s gotten out of Twist. “She always fixes anythin’ that goes wrong. See, ’m doin’ fine.” By what definition of fine? He’s alive and speaking, but that’s about it. “I don’ mind, really. ‘s nice ta be left alone. Relaxin’.” Now that just doesn’t fit with anything he’s ever known about the other skeleton.

“twist. you love being around people. when you aren’t around people, you find people to be around, even if they’re just trying to have a peaceful afternoon at home and didn’t really want someone breaking into their living room to take over their couch and make them watch tv with you. you can’t expect me to believe that you’ve suddenly started enjoying quiet solitary reflection.”

“Eh, it’s fine. ‘sa nice break.”

“a break from what?”

“Ya know, treatment stuff. Not really a nice treatment, an’ Iggy’s kinda-” his jaw slams shut.

“iggy’s kind of what?” What has she been doing?! He paid for this shit, and now she’s using it to hurt one of the few people in the whole fucking multiverse he cares about? Stop. Calm down. Twist doesn’t need this, and he hasn’t actually said anything specific, or at least not anything coherent.

“It’s fine. She don’ gotta be nice. Not her job. She’s helpin’ me an’ I don’ need her ta be nice about it.” She fucking made it her job when she – Stop. First figure out what’s going on, then help Twist, then deal with Iggy. Not the other way around.

“what ‘not nice’ things has she done?” Something, anything, specific would be helpful.

“Look, sweetheart, I don’ even know. Most’a the time I’m so caught up in the shit in my own head that I don’ even know what’s happenin’. Fer all I know, I could jus’ be imaginin’ talkin’ ta you an’ really be ramblin’ at the ceiling. ‘s real nice ta see ya either way, though.” So Twist isn’t always aware of reality but is aware that he isn’t always aware of it. That probably means something, but Cash is no psychologist, or doctor, or whatever else Twist needs. Cash probably isn’t anything that Twist needs, but he’s what they’ve got at the moment so he’ll try to do something helpful.

“twist. listen to me. i know about the lv treatment. i have a general idea of how it’s supposed to work. none of what i know explains the situation i found you in, or why no one knows you’re here, for that matter. you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothin’s goin’ on. It’s jus’ the treatment. I got my LV too high so it’s harder ta make it work on me, an’ Iggy’s makin’ it work but it don’ feel good, tha’s all. Sometimes I think she’s doin’ somethin’ but then she’s not, an’ she doesn’ know if somethin’s botherin’ me cause I’m usually too messed up ta tell her, but tha’s not her fault, s’just the shit in my own fucked up skull.”

“for someone tied to a bed who can’t tell whether i’m actually here or not, you seem to be taking the blame for a lot of things. it looks more like-” he’s interrupted by the door slamming open and a voice he’s not in the mood to hear.

“Finally! That door drives me crazy. I should have replaced it a long time ago. Now as I was saying, everything is under control and there’s no reason for you to be back here disturbing my patient-”

“Leave him alone.” Startled, Cash turns back to Twist. Gone is the confused monster smiling at seeing a friend and defending the person who’s obviously been doing something to him for the past week. This is the monster who earned every bit of that 17 LV. For the first time, Cash can see a slight justification for keeping him tied up. But no, there’s a reason he’s acting like this, and Cash doubts it’s just from the LV.

Iggy, meanwhile, seems oblivious. She walks right up to both of them, fully focused on Cash. A small, sharpened bone appears at her throat, but dissolves before she notices. Twist winces, but refocuses with a shake of his head and locks his furious gaze back on Iggy. Iggy just keeps talking.

“It’s great to have such a wonderful financial supporter taking such an interest in the project, but it would really be best if you would leave the scientific work to the scientists. Just come on back to my office and I’ll explain anything you want to know, and we can let the patient rest. He’s a little confused, and having someone new around will just confuse him more.” She reaches a hand towards Cash’s arm, presumably to lead him out of the lab, but stops at his forbidding expression.

Twist lunges at her, snarling. “Don’ touch him!” He’s stopped by the straps on his arms and collapses back on the bed, but continues to glare, good eyelight intent and magic building in the broken socket. Holy fucking stars, how does he even have the magic to attack with? He sure has the intent to put behind it. Iggy steps back, finally noticing the problem.

“C’n have me but ya can’t have him.” Magic leaks from Twist’s broken socket. Shit, he can’t just-! That half of his face crinkles up in a wince, and he makes an aborted effort to bring his hand to his face, blocked by the strap on his arm.

“twisted, stop, you shouldn’t be using your magic-”

“What did I say about threatening me?” Iggy demands. Twist shrinks back, but continues to glare. Cash turns to Iggy, furious.

“what did you say about him threatening you?”

“Oh come on, nothing that bad! Did you see what he just tried to do? Look, back before the treatment started and right after it was administered he was very aggressive. He almost killed me when I first started preparing his soul for the injection! He’s mostly behaved since then, but his self-control is terrible and I never know what’s going to set him off.” This gets a raised browbone from Cash.

“i’m sure he’s very dangerous.” What with being tied to the bed, still wincing from accidentally using his magic, and looking back and forth between the two of them in complete confusion as the protective anger is replaced by bewilderment.

“You should have seen what he did to my arm this morning just because I gave him a bath. Completely unprovoked, too! I’m sure some of it has to do with side effects of the treatment, but that doesn’t mean I have to just let him tear my arms apart! He’s way too aggressive, and doesn’t cooperate with anything I need to do, and I’m trying to make this treatment work out but he’s doing everything he can to make my job difficult.” Twist, being difficult? Who’d have thought. But the way she’s describing it…

“did you ever make any effort to figure out why he was being so ‘uncooperative’ and ‘aggressive’? he seems to think he needs to protect me from you. if you want me to believe that he’s here voluntarily, i’d think you’d have made some effort to figure out why he’s acting like he’s not.”

“Patches?” Twist sounds hesitant. Twist, one of the loudest, boldest, most impulsive, most overenthusiastic, least hesitant people Cash has ever met, sounds like he’s afraid to fucking speak. Cash doesn’t even know what to do with that.

He makes an effort to gentle his voice. Being gentle with Twist, of all people. “what is it?” So he sucks at being gentle. Sue him.

“Don’ argue with her. ‘s jus’… ‘s better not to.” Do not murder the only monster who can keep Twist from losing his mind. Do not. Even if she seems to have made a damn good effort to fuck up that mind, they still need her. Focus on Twist, what Twist needs. What does Twist need? He turns to Iggy.

“you. get out.”

“What? You can’t kick me out of my own lab! You’re not-”

“out. i want to talk to twist.”

“You can talk to him with me here.”

“out.” Something in his expression must reflect how he’s feeling, because Iggy shuts her mouth and walks through the door, muttering something under her breath about the whole group of them being psychotic. Cash tunes her out.

“there, she’s gone. now what has been going on here?”

“Sure listens ta you better’n she does ta me.” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice, which Cash is relieved to hear. Twist being timid isn’t something he can deal with.

“what doesn’t she listen about?” Asking again and again isn’t the best strategy he’s ever come up with, but Twist is so disoriented that he might let a little more information slip. Assuming he even knows it.

“Lotsa things. Don’t matter, though. She’s jus’ doin’ what’s necessary, an’ I ain’t gonna complain if it gets me a cure. Doncha see, darlin’? ‘s worth it. Nothin’s so bad that it’s not worth getting’ rid a’ LV. ‘s not even that bad.”

“Which is why you’re scared of her and don’t want her anywhere near me.”

“No… jus’… I’m jus’ bein’ stupid.” He pauses to catch his breath. “Swear ‘m fine, sweetheart.” He gasps, but keeps talking like nothing happened. “Jus’ stupid shit in my head, jus’...” There are little sweat drops on his face. They’re on his ribs too, and the sickly glow in his soul and joints has intensified.

“twist? what’s going on?”

“Hot. ‘s hot,” he whimpers.

“it’s not hot in here. If anything, it’s cold, and you’re not wearing anything, which is another point against-”

Twist’s spine arches off the bed, and he screams.

chapter 9

#twistfell papyrus #swaptwistfell papyrus #twistfell alphys #internalized victim-blaming #some actual comfort in this hurt/comfort story?#at least he's trying

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rainoverthemountains · 5 years

Text

More Twist Story-chapter 3

As usual, Twist and all of Twistfell belongs to @itsladykit

Things get rather bad for Twist in this chapter.

As a side note, I'm assuming that even though they usually refer to each other by their nicknames, when under major stress or not thinking clearly the monsters tend to slip and refer to monsters they’ve known their whole lives by the names they grew up calling them. On that note, when Twist refers to Sans, he’s talking about Blackberry, not Undertale Sans, in case that’s not clear.

chapter 1, chapter 2

Chapter 3

Twist obligingly climbs back into bed, forcing down every aggressive, or even defensive, thought that enters his mind. This is not the time to freak out.

“So what ‘xactly are ya gonna do, sweetheart? Maybe try a little warnin’ this time.”

Iggy takes his soul back over to the desk with the rather terrifying clamp, more carefully this time. “I told you, I need to break off some of this calcification so I can get the monitor wires in, and the needle for the injection.”

“And ya need that,” he grimaces as he points to the clamp, “ta do that? Don’ really seem necessary. Could prob’ly break some off myself by hand if you don’ wanna do it, darlin’.”

“No, no, this is much better for distributing the force and avoiding bruising, and we’d need some serious force to break through all of that. This way the blades slice in and take off most of it with very little pressure. Don’t worry, I’ve already optimized the procedure on other high-LV subjects-”

“And what’d they have ta say ‘bout it?”

“-and this way is by far the best for avoiding complications from excessive calcification,” she finishes with a glare for the interruption.

“Fine, fine, jus’… jus’ get it over with, then.” He lays down on his side, facing her so he can see, then clenches his sockets shut, then realizes that’s worse than watching, so he opens them again.

He jolts when she sets his soul in the clamp. Sensations are dull through the calcification, but he can still feel little razor sharp teeth digging into the surface. He rolls onto his back to grip the bars on both sides of the bed. No need to freak out. He’s had worse before. This is nothing compared to what will happen if he keeps going the way he is. It’s worth it. A cure is worth anything. Absolutely anything. There’s nothing she could do that wouldn’t be worth-

“Fuck!” he shouts as the clamp closes and twists, tiny razor blades digging in and slicing, hooking in somehow and tearing the hardened outer layer off of his soul. It’s over in a second that feels like an eternity, and then there are hands on it, pulling it off the fucking spikes, and he convulses as they shift and pinch, pulling off little chips and pieces that were left behind. It’s excruciating, and violating, and as soon as he gets control of his limbs he lunges, not stopping for an instant when he falls to the floor, crawling when he can’t gather the coordination to walk, furious, desperate to get it back, take it away from her, how is this happening? That part of his life is done, he doesn’t have to lie here and take this, he won’t take this, he’ll fucking kill her, doesn’t have to take this again, he’ll show her he’ll pay her back for everything she ever did, he’ll-

“Stop right there!” a voice that isn’t hers commands, and the surprise of it is enough to jolt him partway out of his rage. “Move one more inch towards me, and I’ll rip your soul right in half!” She, Iggy, not Muffet, not any of the Muffets, there are no Muffets here, holds his soul out as if to demonstrate. He freezes, and remembers why he’s here. She had… she’d needed to get the calcification off, so she could get a needle in, so he could get the LV treatment he clearly needed, but…

“Why… what? Why did…?” With the adrenaline fading, shock sets in. He stares up at his exposed soul, its surface raw and bare looking, and can’t imagine what possible purpose there could be for that. He hates how it normally looks, but this is just wrong. She shouldn’t be touching it like this, she shouldn’t be touching it at all! She shouldn’t, he’ll make her stop, he’ll – No! Listen, she’s talking, maybe she’ll say why…

“I know it seems a little extreme, but it’ll be so much easier this way. It looks like a lot of damage, but it’s actually all on the surface, with no deep bruising at the core, which is what we really need to worry about because that’s where the medicine will work. I could have just taken off a little piece, but it’s just as easy to get it all off this way, and now it’ll take a lot longer to re-calcify so we’ll have more surface area to work with for longer, so we won’t have to do this again while the medicine is working, which would be a lot harder to do.”

That makes sense, except, “couldn’ta asked what I wanted? Or at leas’ warned me?”

“Would you have cooperated? You barely cooperated as it is. Now, are you done trying to kill me? If so, we should get you back in bed so we can get on with the treatment.” She holds his soul in one hand as she reaches the other down to help him up.

“Be careful with that!” he snarls, patience gone. “Ya keep threatenin’ me with it, but at this rate, yer gonna drop it an’ dust me by accident.” Steadying himself on the lab bench, he pulls himself up and staggers back to the bed.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worked with a lot of souls over the past few years and I’ve never dropped one.”

Twist snorts. “Whatever. Got any more plans ta make me try‘n kill ya, or are we ‘bout ready ta get on with it? Not sure how many more times that ‘I’ll break yer soul’ shit’s gonna work if ya keep breakin’ it anyway.”

“It’s not broken, just a little more exposed than you’re used to. But you’re right, we should get on with this. Just let me get the monitor wires in and then I’ll give you the injection.”

After the removal of the calcification, the wires are surprisingly painless. Just a small twinge, and then he’s treated to the disturbing sight of his soul with wires sticking out of it. Looking at it too long makes him slightly nauseous, but he isn’t looking away after all that.

“What’d’ya need ta monitor, anyway?” Do monsters have vital signs to keep track of? He realizes he doesn’t actually know.

“HP, mostly, and I’ll be tracking some stats that won’t mean anything yet, but will help me map the course of the treatment once I correlate them with my other data. That part’s not anything you need to worry about, just know that I’ll be tracking your HP and I have plenty of doses for direct magic infusions when it gets low. Of course, it’s best to keep it high enough with food that you won’t need any infusions, but it’s important to have them there as a backup.”

“Can’t ya just check me like normal?”

“I could, but this way provides more up-to-the-minute information, and since I’ll already be taking data on the treatment progression I might as well monitor HP at the same time. Like I said, I’ve already optimized this procedure, and this is what works best. Now, unless you have any more questions, let’s get started.”

“Fine, great, what’d’ya want me ta do?”

“Nothing, just lie there, and stay in bed this time, while I inject the medicine. Once it’s in your soul, it’ll run its course on its own, so your soul will be able to stay in your ribcage unless you need a magic infusion or you mess with the monitor wires.”

“Jus’ get on with it, then,” Twist sighs. This is going to suck. Definitely not the worst thing he’s ever been through, there’s a lot of competition for that, but it’s going to suck.

“Fine then. You might want to brace yourself. If you attack me while I’ve got a needle in your soul, you’ll probably end up with a whole syringe in your soul instead.”

“Yeah, yeah, not gonna attack ya. This’s the part I signed up for, ain’t it?” Nevertheless, he tightens his grip on the bars. He turns his head away as she picks up the syringe, but finds once again that he can’t stand not knowing when the needle is coming. He turns back to look just in time to cringe as the needle reaches the surface of his soul. He tenses in dread as the needle breaks the surface, only to feel… almost nothing. Like the wires, the needle feels wrong but is too small to be painful. Twist sighs in relief. Maybe this won’t be so bad. He can take this. This is nothing. He’s had so much worse… And then the world dissolves into agony.

Heat floods his soul, like someone lit it on fire. Bubbling, boiling fire, like boiling in acid, is it acid? Did she put acid in his soul?! Distantly, he hears himself screaming. He knows it’s him because he feels the screams ripping from his throat, but that’s all he knows as the world condenses around that single point of pain. Vision goes black, hearing goes silent, he no longer feels the bed under his back, just the frantic thrashing of his own limbs and the wrongwrongWRONG feeling of foreign hands around his melting soul. Something brushes his ribs, Don’t touch me! and then blessed relief from the wrongness as his soul settles back into place. Relief from the wrongness, but not from the pain. The pain won’t end. The pain will never end, not until he melts away, melt away the broken, corrupted, ugly soul burnitburnitBURNIT it burns please it burns it hurts please stop please someone help make it stop.

This is eternity. It lasts an eternity and it will continue for many more eternities until he melts away, and slowly he’s fading. Fading away and the pain isn’t leaving but he is, drifting away like dust on the wind like drowning in the river, fighting at first but slowly losing strength and giving up the fight. Drown, he could drown, just sink beneath the surface and the burning will stop. No more pain, no more him. No more him, no that’s not… Don’t want that. That’s not… but the thought won’t hold together, too much pain and too little strength to hold anything together. Then suddenly more wrongness. Wrongwrongwrong what’s wrong… why… what’s happening? Hands on his soul, taking it! No, give it back give it back give… it… too hard to fight. Too hard, too tired… need… can’t… His soul fills with crackling energy and suddenly he’s awake, wide awake, no please no more don’t want to be awake but don’t want to… die. All his shattered thoughts crystalize around that one idea, he almost died, he doesn’t want to die. This could kill him. Is this killing him? Nonono don’t let it kill him he wants to live. Live with the pain and the wrongness and the melting and the dark? It’s so dark and he’s alone and it hurts. No that’s not the world it’s not he’s been here before not quite here but like this before. It’s been like this and he got out! He got out and he won and he got Sans back and… Sans! Where’s Sans? Sans needs him. Sans would want him back even if he’s melting even if he’s already melted, even if he’s melted away to nothing and there’s nothing left. But it hurts and it’s WRONG something wrong on his soul someone’s holding his soul where is his soul? Right there! It’s right there above him, someone’s standing over him holding it. It’s her she wants it she took it she can’t have it she can’t take anything else from him give it back!

“Gif ba’. G’ba’k.” He tries to shout, but his voice is too hoarse for more than a whisper and he can’t form the shape of the words.

She might say something as she approaches but he can’t hear it. All he sees is a hand reaching out to grab him, the same hand that’s hurting him and touching his soul, let go please let go. He grabs the hand that’s reaching for him and digs his claws in with all his strength. She yelps, oh fuck he’s in for it now, and withdraws her hand, but not before giving back his soul. The relief of its return momentarily blocks out the pain, enough that he can realize the pain has receded enough that there are things in the world that aren’t pain. He waits for the melting to return, but no, if anything his soul is cooling, now more like metal in the hot sun than battery acid at the sun’s core. The same can’t be said of the rest of him. His ribs are radiating enough heat that his arm hurts where it’s resting against his lower ribs. He tries to move it away but it won’t obey him. The bed under his back may as well be an oven. He tries to roll to a cooler spot but can’t move any part of his body. His throat is the worst, like someone has scraped it with sandpaper. The more the pain fades, the more he realizes how thirsty he is. Water, he needs water, but he can’t even whisper to ask for it and now he’s alone.

***

Iggy finishes wrapping her arm in her office and then goes back to check on her research subject. He’s stopped twitching, so he might have passed out. He seems harmless, but he’d seemed pretty harmless before he clawed her arm down to the bone, so she stays well out of reach as she checks his stats on the monitor. He’s back up to half his full HP with the compound fully integrated into his soul. The start is bad for every subject, but she hasn’t come so close to losing one since before she perfected the formula. The difference between an LV of 9 and 17 might have more of an effect than she’d thought. Or maybe this is a subject-specific problem. No way to know for sure without more data.

She’s downloading the data from the monitor to a flash drive for transfer and further analysis when she notices Twist staring at her. He’s not doing anything, just staring. His jawbone moves as if to say something, but no sound comes out and he just keeps staring. It’s disturbing.

“Hello, do you need something?” She tentatively asks. His browbone furrows in… some sort of expression. She can’t really tell what it is.

“Are you ready to answer some questions about your experience?” This gets no response, so she steps closer.

“Some of this data looks a little patchy. I’m going to take a look at the wires to make sure they’re all in there correctly. I’m not sure how well I reconnected them when you pulled them loose earlier. I was more concerned with getting some magic into you when your HP dropped. I had to pull your soul out to inject it directly, and then when I tried to put it back you attacked me,” she babbles as she reaches into his ribcage to pull out his soul again. Twist snarls and tries to grab her. Iggy leaps backwards. Well, she was right about being careful.

“Is that really necessary?” she snaps. “I’m trying to help you! Do you want to dust because no one knows your HP is dropping? I’m not checking you 24 hours a day, so you need that monitor to be working.” Twist cringes at her anger and plasters his arms flat against the bed. “That’s better. Keep them there. Now let’s see what’s going on here.” She reaches for his soul as he watches with widened sockets. When she touches it he gasps and his whole body jerks.

“Hmmm. Overly sensitive now, it seems. I’ll have to keep that in mind. All of the wires are in place, so what’s causing… oh, there! One of the tips is sticking out the other side. That explains it. I’ll just pull it back in… what’s it stuck on? Oh, that’s fascinating. The outer layers are already re-calcifying around it! I should have expected it, but if it’s this fast then why didn’t it happen sooner? I had no trouble moving the wires a few minutes ago… Something about the treatment must temporarily reduce calcification. I wonder if it’s just the heat? No, it can’t be that hot. I must not have noticed with the other subjects because their natural re-calcification wasn’t this fast. It’s not happening anywhere else, so the wires must provide a surface for the molecules to organize around, like some kind of seed crystal. This could be helpful. If we can keep the wires in place long enough for calcification to form around them, it should keep them from coming out again. Here, I’ll just break up the part that’s holding the wire in the wrong place and pull it back in. It’s thin enough that I should be able to do it manually.” She glances at Twist’s face for confirmation and sees his teeth gritted and head turned away, face half-buried in the pillow. His body is shaking and hands are clenched, but still obediently held at his sides.

“Oh, sorry, does it still hurt for me to touch it? Here, I’ll finish up quickly and put it back.” He moans when she breaks off the calcification near the misplaced wire, but otherwise does not react. He relaxes slightly when she sets his soul back inside his ribcage, but still doesn’t move.

“There, now we can leave it alone for a while. Once the wires are locked in place I shouldn’t have to do anything else with it unless your HP drops to critical levels again. I don’t really expect that to happen; this first part is the most damaging, HP-wise. If it becomes a regular thing I might need to put in some kind of a port for easy access, but we won’t resort to that unless we have to. You seem more responsive now, so do you think you could answer some of my questions? We can just stick to yes or no for now if you don’t feel up to talking.”

Twist’s shoulders twitch, which Iggy decides to interpret as agreement, so she pulls out her list of questions. Twist answers some of them with nods or head shakes, although it isn’t really clear if he understands all of what she’s saying or if he’s actually even intentionally answering. After several questions in a row go unanswered she gives up.

“That’s alright, we’ll try again later. Just get some sleep for now,” she suggests as she gathers her materials. As she stands to leave, she hears a small sound.

***

“Mmmmm. W…” Twist breaks into coughing, but tries again. “Wah…” He winces as the sound strains his throat.

“What is it? Do you need something?” Iggy asks impatiently. Twist flinches at her tone but tries again.

“Wah… da. Wa er. C’n… pls?” It’s too much to say at once, too many sounds, too little breath. But he’s so thirsty.

“Wa da? Oh, water, of course! Sure, you can have some water. I probably have a water bottle around here somewhere. That shouldn’t be too hard to drink from.” Iggy goes off in search of a water bottle while Twist struggles to stay conscious. He’s so, so tired, the room around him fading in and out of focus and spinning. He’s so grateful when Iggy returns and puts the tip of a water bottle in his mouth, even when it comes out too fast and most of it runs down his jawbone. Even that is wonderful as the water cools his overheated bones. He wants to ask for more on his ribs but can’t find the words. After far too short a time Iggy pulls the bottle away and wipes off the water dripping down his chin. He tries to protest but his protest goes unheard.

“There, is that better?” she asks without giving him time to answer. “We should probably try a straw next time. I have a lot of work to do now, so you just get some sleep. The monitor will tell me if anything changes.” Then she picks up her materials and leaves. Twist drifts for a while, trying to remind himself why he’s doing this, and what this even is, and avoid other memories that it’s bringing to mind. Eventually he drifts into a restless sleep.

chapter 4

#twistfell papyrus #twistfell alphys #hurt/comfort #Iggy is bad at comforting #LV problems #LV cure #medical procedures #medical experiments #soul damage #references to past trauma #careless treatment of research participants #panic attacks #open to tagging suggestions

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rainoverthemountains · 5 years

Text

More of the Twist Story

Here’s more of my story about Twist from @itsladykit ‘s Twistfell AU. It should probably have an actual title, but title writing is a writerly skill that I haven’t yet developed, so it gets the same title that it has on my computer.

chapter 1

Chapter 2

It doesn’t take long to finish the car, sign out of work, and head to the lab. Iggy hands Twist a pile of paperwork on a clipboard as soon as they arrive. “Here, just sign these and we can get started. I’ve already filled in all the subject-specific information for you, so you just need to sign where I highlighted and-”

“Now wait just a minute, sweetheart.” Twist frowns. “’M not just gonna sign a bunch of papers with no clue what I’m signin’. Gimme a sec’ ta look through ‘em first.” He turns to the first page and scowls at all the medical and legal jargon. “Not ‘xactly user-friendly, huh? You’d almost think someone was tryin’ ta hide somethin’ in here.”

“Oh don’t be silly.” Iggy waves him off. “That’s just how these are always written, just a bunch of legal requirements to make sure everything is written out precisely for the review board. Most of it is nothing you need to worry about.”

Twist snorts at that suggestion. “Think I’ll decide that fer myself, darlin’.”

“Fine, suit yourself, but I doubt you’ll get much out of it.” Sighing, she crosses the room to check on another project. This could take a while.

Twist resumes reading, frowning in concentration. The frown worsens as he re-reads the same page several times, finally stopping to rub his sockets in frustration. Iggy glances back towards where he’s standing.

“Are you really trying to read the whole thing?”

“Yep.” He already sounds defeated, though.

“Do you read every word of everything you sign?”

“Nah, but the meltin’ thing makes me think I should look a little more closely at this one.”

“Ok, I mean, that makes sense, it really does, and normally I’d say that’s a really smart thing to do, but it doesn’t seem like the best idea right now.”

“Ya seem pretty insistent on that, sweetheart. Sure there’s not somethin’ in here ya don’ want me ta see?”

“No, no, no, nothing like that, it’s just… I mean… can you actually read it? I mean not that I don’t think you can read! It just seems like it’s taking a while, and it’s got a lot of technical terms, and how long are you really wanting to wait for the treatment? I mean you could take it home and spend however long you need to read it all, but wouldn’t you rather go ahead and get started and avoid taking that risk? What if something happened before we could get started?”

“Could get someone else ta look at it. I’ve got some friends who could prob’ly figure it out.”

“And what would those friends say about you being here? What if they don’t approve? Then they’ll either talk you out of it or you’ll get in an argument, and is that really what you want?”

“Yer awfully determined ta keep this a secret. Sure this is somethin’ yer really s’posed ta be doin’?” His sockets narrow. Blackberry would throw a fit if this is half as dangerous as it seems like it might be, but Edge would be more reasonable, or Cash. Papyrus might be able to figure it out too, but he might be a little too worried about the ‘dangerous’ part. “It doesn’t seem like the kinda thing that needs ta be done in secret, unless there’s somethin’ goin’ on that yer not tellin’ me.”

“It’s not a secret! It’s just easier if no one’s around to argue about it.”

“Who’s gonna argue? Not like curin’ LV’s a controversial issue.”

“No, but the treatment is unpleasant, and still a little experimental, and family members tend to complain about that kind of thing, even when it’s in the subject’s, er, patient’s, best interest. It’s way too easy for someone to get upset about something and interfere with the protocol, which can interfere with the results. Everything runs more smoothly with no one around with any emotional investment.” Is that supposed to reassure him? It really, really doesn’t.

“So what’d’ya suggest? Signin’ off on somethin’ that could be donatin’ my body ta science, fer all I know?” Everything about the whole setup seems like a bad idea. On the other hand, it’s a cure for LV. What choice does he have? It’s not like he has ten years to wait around for another one.

“What about a compromise? I’ll tell you the highlights of each page, and you can look at the page while I’m talking so you can see I’m not making anything up, and then you sign it?”

“Pretty easy ta brush over anything ya want me ta ignore when it’s all written like that, darlin’.” His resistance is fading, though. What if it works? The lure of an impossible future is calling, and really, what else is he going to do?

“It’s the best you’re going to get,” she echoes his thoughts.

Now he’s the one who sighs. “Fine, fine, start with this overview section. Seems like there’s stuff I need ta know in there, but it’s mostly nonsense.”

“Sure, just let me pick out the key points.” She scans through the section. “Ok, here’s what you need to know.”

“A newly developed drug containing a compound specifically formulated to dissolve LV will be injected directly into your soul. The compound will gradually diffuse throughout your soul, dissolving concentrations of LV while theoretically leaving the rest of your soul untouched. Your treatment has been calibrated to specifically target LV 17 to minimize its effects on the rest of your soul, so when your LV drops below 17 the treatment will stop until I administer a new dose. Once the drug has been administered it can’t be stopped until your LV decreases, at which point you will be given the option to have the drug re-administered or discontinue treatment. Known side effects include pain, fever, weakness, confusion, disorientation, hallucinations, delusions, emotional instability, and possible significant HP loss which can be corrected with magic infusions. All side effects are temporary, and LV reduction is stable over time. All you have to do is let me administer the treatment, let yourself be monitored throughout the treatment, and answer occasional questions regarding your subjective experience. Signing here indicates that you’ve been given this information and you understand it.”

“Well that sounds fun.” Twist signs in the highlighted section. “Got it so far. Why’d that take three pages ta write? Never mind, keep goin’ so we can get started.” Not like there’s any point in looking for anything she might have skipped. He’s going to agree. What else can he do?

They go through each section in the same way, a bunch of legal jargon that Twist has trouble following even in summary form, until finally they reach the end.

“Signing here means you consent to the treatment and to being part of the research study.”

Twist barely hesitates before signing. “Let’s get going, sweetheart!” His grin is a little strained, but still genuine. Getting rid of his LV will be worth whatever shit he has to go through to do it.

“Great, then let’s get started.”

***

“Take off your clothes, then lie down. Get in bed, get comfortable; you’re going to be here a while.”

“Didn’ know ya felt that way ‘bout me, sweetheart. If ya wanted ta get me in bed all ya had ta do was ask! No need ta wait for an excuse! I’m up fer anythin’.” Twist grins while complying, not looking too closely at any strange equipment scattered around the lab.

Clearly determined not to let Twist’s nonsense interrupt her work, Iggy maintains a strictly professional tone. “Good, now manifest your soul.”

“Now wait a minute, don’t ya think this’s movin’ a little fast fer a first date?” Twist jokes nervously.

“I need access to your soul to administer the treatment. Please manifest your soul so we can get started.”

“Ok, ok, no need ta be so pushy.” Twist manifests his soul inside his ribcage.

“How am I supposed to work with that? Do you want me working inside your chest?”

“Darlin’, you can work inside any part a me…”

“Stop.” She glares. “We aren’t here to flirt, we’re here to get rid of your LV. Do you want this cure or not? I can find some other experimental subject if you aren’t willing to cooperate and you can wait around until this is approved for mass production. That is, assuming you can even last that long. You wouldn’t have agreed to this if you were confident in your own self-control.”

“Ok! I get yer point. Fine, have it.” He re-manifests his soul outside of his ribcage. “Don’t usually show it ta anyone. ‘S kinda a mess.” He suddenly feels very vulnerable and exposed in a way that he hadn’t from getting undressed. He can’t even count the number of people who have seen him naked, and plenty of those are associated with good times. The same can’t be said for exposing his soul.

It’s worth it, he reminds himself. Anything that happens will be worth it. It’s not a big deal. Just like going to the doctor. This whole thing is a medical procedure. Just let her have it. Before he can, though, she reaches out and takes it. He’s heard some monsters say letting someone they love touch their soul is one of the most intimate things they’ve ever experienced. This just feels like a violation. Nothing new, he’s dealt with worse before. There’s nothing he can do about it. She has it now and he won’t back out for anything, so he just needs to stay calm, just detach from the situation.

Detaching gets a lot harder once Iggy starts poking around for a crack or weak point in the calcification to get the monitor wires into his soul. “This is some of the thickest calcification I’ve ever seen, at least on a soul that’s still functioning correctly!”

“That’d be the 17 LV for ya. Not a pretty sight.” He grins darkly, more embarrassed than amused, but it is funny to see how surprised such a self-proclaimed expert on LV can be at seeing that LV as high as his affects a monster’s soul.

“How are you even able to function? This much calcification should affect emotional range, self-regulation, reasoning capacity, everything! The whole body-soul interface should be disrupted!”

“Why d’ya think I’m here, darlin’?”

“Right, right, I know. I’m just surprised. I shouldn’t be. It’s just… The amount of effort it must take to function in any way remotely resembling normal!” She shakes her head, actually seeming somewhat impressed. “But enough of that. That’s what we’re here to fix, so let’s get on with it.”

“Sure thing, Sweetheart. An’ if ya could stop squeezin’ my soul while we’re at it, I’d ‘preciate it.”

“What? Oh, sorry. Unfortunately, I’m actually going to have to squeeze it some more for the next part. There’s no way I’m getting wires or a needle through all this so I’m going to have to break it up and remove it.”

“Shit. Well, ok, if that’s what ya gotta do.” No one said this would be easy. Worth it, though. It has to be worth it.

“Will you be able to control yourself well enough to let me do it or will you need to be restrained?”

“No! I mean, I can control m’self. I’ll be fine. No need fer any restraints. None.” He glares at her. “Wasn’t in the agreement. I don’t agree ta that.” Well, it probably wasn’t in the agreement. Not like he has any way of knowing for sure, but surely she would have mentioned that part.

He searches for something to brace himself against and finds low metal bars along both sides of the bed. They look strong enough to at least take some effort to break. Why’re there bars on a hospital bed maybe he should be concerned. Laying back against the thin pillow, he grips the bars tightly and holds back his protest as Iggy carries his soul over to a lab bench. His eyes remain locked on his soul as she holds it in one hand to open a drawer with the other. If she drops it… If she drops it, he’ll be fine. There won’t be any intent behind it, and he can handle a little soul damage. It’ll be worth it. No doubt about it. A cure for LV is worth anything anyone can do to him. Anything. Even…

He cringes as she sits his soul down on the countertop to free up both hands for digging through the drawers. That… you don’t do that with souls! The cold seeping in from the counter makes him shiver. In that moment he’s almost grateful for the protection of the calcification. The feeling of the countertop against his bare soul would be disgusting. Worth it, though. Still worth it. Whatever she needs to do is worth it and how exactly is leaving his soul laying around on a countertop necessary to cure his LV?

“Hey, uh, if ya don’ need that right now I can hold onto it fer a while. I’d rather ya not…” He struggles to keep his voice steady. She’s helping him. He never expected her to be considerate about it.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll need it in a minute. Just as soon as I find that clamp. I could’ve sworn it was in the center drawer.” His soul scrapes against the bench top as she pushes it aside to make room for the contents of the drawer she’s emptying. That… is not a good feeling. His grip on the bars tightens. Where does she get off treating his soul like some fucking paperweight? He doesn’t have to put up with this. Who does she think she’s fucking with here? He could just…

No. Absolutely not. She’s not an enemy and she’s not attacking him. It doesn’t matter what she does to his soul. He can take a little discomfort. Monsters don’t dust through carelessness. There is no intent. There can’t possibly be any intent. She’s trying to help him. He agreed to this. It’s worth it.

This time she picks up his soul to set it behind the growing pile on the counter to move on to the next drawer. Out of sight, the unfamiliar sensations seem even more threatening to his increasingly agitated mind. He grits his teeth until they creak as his focus narrows onto the hands that keep touching him, keep pushing him around like they’re in charge, like he’s theirs to do whatever the fuck they want with, like he’s helpless like he’s already been defeated he’ll show her who’s helpless he’ll-

No. No. There are no enemies here. Iggy isn’t the enemy. She’s helping him. She’s curing him. She’s like a doctor. He isn’t so far gone that he’ll attack his doctor. He knows why he’s here. It’s his choice. It’s worth it. Still, his eyelight remains locked on his captor doctor.

“Ah hah! Found it!” Her voice is grating as she pulls something metallic from one of the drawers. “This will help me break through the calcification without doing much damage to the interior. It’s much better to do it this way than manually because it’s easier to control the amount of force applied, and the treatment itself does enough damage to the soul without starting out with any unnecessary bruising or deep lacerations.” She sets something on the counter that looks like a clamp with hundreds of little curved teeth. His soul is not going anywhere near that thing.

“Give. It. Back.” His voice grates harshly.

***

“Just a minute. I just need to break up the calcification so I can peel if off, then I can put in the wires and give you the injection, and then I’ll put it right back where I found it, promise.” She turns back to give him a reassuring smile, only to freeze at the sharpened bones inches from her chest.

“Give. It. Back. Now.” He’s out of the bed, tensed for an attack, eyelight shrunken to a pinprick and broken socket leaking magic. It looks like the situation is a little more critical than she’d thought. Not totally out of control; she’s been working with monsters who’ve lost themselves for years, but most of them don’t start off calmly chatting while unrestrained in the same room as her. Why didn’t she involve Undyne in this one? She should know better. She feels panic welling up, but forces it back down.

Too late to get Undyne now; she’ll have to save herself. Fighting a monster with his stats does not have a high probability of success. Is he still capable of reasoning? He was a few minutes ago, but how long ago did it start going downhill? She has to admit she wasn’t really paying attention. He hasn’t actually attacked yet, so it’s worth a try.

“You know attacking me won’t get you want you want. Do you remember why you’re here?” He doesn’t respond, but doesn’t attack either, so she continues. “You’re here so I can cure your LV. So you don’t have to deal with problems like this anymore. Remember? I’m trying to help you.”

“Don’ see much help happenin’ ‘ere. Mostly see some bitch thinkin’ she c’n play aroun’ with my soul.” The bones inch closer. Iggy flinches back and raises Twist’s soul as protection against an attack, hoping he’s still close enough to in control to care about self-preservation. He glares, but the bones stop moving forward, suggesting that he is.

“If you attack me, you’re never going to get the LV cure. Or I’ll lock you up like the other monsters who lost themselves and you can go through the treatment in a cell.”

“Jus’ try it.” His eyelight flares but he still doesn’t move.

“I don’t have to try anything. I’m holding your soul. I can lock you up. I’m also the only one with the treatment. I can refuse to give it to you. If you kill me, the treatment will die with me and you’ll still never have it.” Twist snarls, but the bone attack doesn’t move any closer, so she continues.

“You have three choices. Try to kill me, and get locked up with or without the treatment. Back out of the study, and get no treatment. Or put those bones away and cooperate, and never be affected by LV again. Is that worth the effort to get control of yourself?”

“Worth-?” Twist gives a full body shudder and the bones back off a few inches. “Worth it? Shit,” he gasps. He puts his face in his hands. “I…” Iggy lets herself relax slightly, and he shoots to attention at the sound of her shifting. “Don’t. Move.” he bites out. Iggy stills instantly. “Unless ya still wanna fight.” A manic grin splits his face.

“I never wanted to fight in the first place. I’m trying to help you. You were trying to get yourself under control for the LV treatment, remember?” If she can just get him to release the bone attacks she can get out of there.

“Right,” he sighs, hands returning to his face. “Right. ‘m tryn’a calm down.” Claws digging into his skull, he focuses on breathing, but it only reminds him that his soul isn’t in the right place to feed the increased oxygen into his magic.

“Not very good at calmin’ down,” he admits.

“I can see that. Maybe try letting these bones go?” Iggy suggests nervously.

“Huh? Oh, those. Sure. Don’ try anythin’.” He abruptly glares at her while releasing the bones.

“What would I try? I’m not attacking you. I never was.” Maybe it would be best not to argue with him, but it seems like an important point to keep making.

“Well don’t.” His hands return to his face, rubbing what may have meant to be soothing circles on the sides of his skull but seem more likely to cut his face open.

“Would it help if I gave your soul back?” she asks tentatively.

“What? Give me that!” he demands, already reaching to put it back in his chest.

Having his soul in place does seem to calm him. Iggy takes the chance to start backing out of the room, but Twist notices.

“Wait!” She freezes at his shout. “Wait. Don’t ya need this?” He re-manifests his soul and holds it out to her.

She shakes her head. “Um… you keep it for now.”

“But it’s not ready for the treatment. Don’ ya need ta get it ready?” His hostility has been almost entirely replaced with confusion and a hint of desperation.

“I think we should wait a little while. Don’t you want to calm down first?” she suggests, reluctant to do anything that might produce that reaction again.

“No!” he gasps, horrified. “Ya can’t… please don’ make me wait! I need it! Can’t ya see I need it?”

“And you’ll get it!” she reassures. “Just not right now. I really think we should wait for a little while, give you a chance to calm down and me a chance to come up with a better plan.”

“No, please, I need it. I can’ believe how fast tha’ came on. I wasn’ even mad, jus’ kinda freakin’ out, an’ then ’m tryna kill ya? What if I was home with my bro? I can… I can avoid fights, but I can’t avoid every single thing that might bother me. Please. I don’ care what it takes. Even… even lock me up if ya haveta.” He shudders. “I won’ blame ya. Jus’… do what ya need ta do. I won’ fight it. I need this. Ya know I need this.” Iggy certainly hadn’t expected to ever hear him beg. She can feel a small amount of compassion welling up for him. Only a little, he did just try to kill her, after all, but isn’t this the whole point of her project?

“Ok, ok, we’ll do it now. You won’t even be dangerous once the drug starts to work. We just need to get through the administration phase. Now about locking you up, would that even help? Locking you in a cell would be too much separation between you and your soul. I don’t want to risk any unnecessary damage on a mostly intact soul, and I’m really not set up to work in that part of the lab right now. Our other option is chaining you to the bed,” Twist’s fists clench but he otherwise doesn’t react, “but you refused that earlier and it wouldn’t do anything to prevent bone attacks.”

“Might even make ‘em worse,” Twist agrees. “Don’ really react well ta bein’ tied down.”

“Well, then, that just leaves us with you controlling yourself until I can get the injection in. Can you do that? It didn’t work so well before.”

“Yeah. I can do it. Jus’ don’ spend so much time messin’ around this time. That’s when I started ta lose it. I c’n hold on fer a little while.”

“I wasn’t messing around! I was looking for equipment that I didn’t know I’d need. Would you rather I’d tried to break it open by hand? You wouldn’t be in good shape by now.”

“Jus’ sayin’ ya could stand ta be a little more organized.”

“You’re awfully critical for someone who needs my help. I didn’t realize your soul would be such a mess or I’d have already had it prepared. “

“Really? Thought ya’d been workin’ with high-LV monsters fer years. Ya really didn’t realize my soul’d be messed up?” he scoffs.

“Not that badly. Every other soul I’ve seen in that condition belonged to a monster who’d already lost their mind, and I didn’t need to be so careful about avoiding damage.”

“‘Cause you were jus’ plannin’ ta melt them anyway, right?”

“I didn’t plan to melt anyone. It was an unfortunate side effect of the early forms of the treatment which I resolved as soon as I could. If you have such a problem with it, you can just go home and-”

“No!” Twist interrupts, panicked. “Sorry, no, sorry, didn’t mean ta argue with ya. LV must still be actin’ up. Makes me wanna pick fights over stupid shit. I want the treatment. Don’ wanna go home. Please, I’ll shut my mouth an’ you can do what ya want.”

“That’ll be the day. But fine.” She sighs. “You can have the treatment if you can keep yourself under control long enough for me to give it to you. Don’t attack me, and don’t pick fights. And tell me if you feel like you’re losing control. We can find another way to do this if we have to and I’m not going to stop treating you just because you give me a heads up that you’re starting to feel like killing me.”

“Could try not tossin’ my soul around like a paperweight,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Nothin’, nothin’, jus’ get on with it.”

“Well hand it over, then.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Never thought ya’d ask.” He gets an eye-roll in response.

“I still need to get the calcification off. Get back in the bed and brace yourself; it’s not going to be any more fun than it would have been last time we tried this.”

chapter 3

#twistfell papyrus #Twistfell Alphys #more skeletons but they aren't here yet #hurt/comfort #LV problems #LV cure #medical treatment #careless treatment of research participants causing unintentional harm #Those ethical rules and guidelines exist for a reason Iggy #I still don't know what to tag #soul damage #altered states of mind #remembered trauma #brief mention of suicidal thoughts #it's not my fault; Lady Kit got her boy into this situation and he needs rescuing #well actually I got him into this specific situation but I didn't create his problems #this is a terrible way to rescue someone #unfortunately he's very whumpable #and also very badass #but also very wonderful and deserves all good things #honestly most of this story is Twist being surprisingly ok with a shitty situation and his friends and family taking care of him #my version of fluff #except we haven't quite gotten to the fluff part yet

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rainoverthemountains · 5 years

Text

So I wrote a Twist-story

I absolutely adore @itsladykit ‘s boy Twist from her Twistfell AU. Actually, I adore all of her boys from all of her AUs, so much so that I wanted to write a story about them. Unfortunately, the more I love a tough and cool character, the more I love hurt/comfort involving that character. Fortunately, Lady Kit is fantastic at providing that. Unfortunately, I wanted even more, and I was also sad that Twist is so hopeless about his LV problem, so this story came to mind. It sprang from Lady Kit’s story Bucket List (the AO3 version), so it makes more sense if you read that first (although if you’re considering reading this and haven’t already read Lady Kit’s stuff, what are you doing here? Go read her stories, she’s incredibly awesome).

I’m hesitant to write it because it seems strange to write hurt/comfort with someone else’s characters (ignoring the fact that all fanfiction uses someone else’s characters) but Lady Kit does like hurt/comfort and has stated that people are free to write in her worlds, and it doesn’t get into any subject that she has stated she wants to avoid, so I decided to give it a try. I also don’t know what I’m doing with writing a story and posting it to the internet, but we’ll see how it goes. Lady Kit please don’t hate me if you see this and don’t like it. I’ll take it down or change it if you want. I’m sorry I’m awkward.

So now I will post this and go hide.

Chapter 1

“Gah! What the hell is their problem? Don’t they realize what I have here?” Iggy snarls at the review panel’s response to her official report, slamming her bowl of ramen on the desk before sheepishly wiping up the noodles that spill over the side. After the sudden increase in funding from an anonymous donor, the LV reduction project has progressed beyond her wildest dreams. She’d honestly been losing hope just a few months ago, but access to any resources she can imagine has changed things. Well, access to resources and a little creative bending of surface laws on ethical treatment of research subjects.

“Those damn laws,” she growls. She’d looked into them at the urging of her Taleverse counterparts, and, fine, maybe some of her methods are just a little bit illegal here. But those laws just don’t take into account the importance of her work! Following all of the required procedures could delay the project for years, maybe decades. Monsters don’t want to wait decades to get rid of LV, and that includes her research subjects. A few might have melted in the process, but that was only in the beginning and those monsters were too far gone into their LV to care anyway. Besides, that problem is long since solved. While her more recent subjects didn’t particularly enjoy the treatment, they all came out of it alive and with lower LV. They got what they wanted, however much they might have complained along the way. The point is, she’d created the impossible, a drug that can dissolve LV without dissolving the rest of the monster.

“It doesn’t even do any permanent damage to the subject’s soul anymore! What can they possibly have to complain about now?” she mutters, reading further into the report.

“‘Promising, but requires further testing,’ my ass.” She’s done the testing. She’s shown that it works. The subject pool is a little limited, but the trends are consistent and easily extrapolated. Of course, ‘Extrapolation outside the range of available data is not sufficiently reliable to support approval for mass production,’ according to several reviewers.

“Well, maybe they have a point there,” she allows. “A slight one.” Extrapolating from an LV of 9, the highest of her successful test subjects so far, to the full range of monsters who need the treatment might be going a little too far.

“Well what am I supposed to do about it?” She throws up her hands in exasperation. They want all research participation to be voluntary, but they also want the treatment tested on high LV monsters. “Have they ever met a monster with high LV!?” Not exactly the most cooperative research subjects. Some of them might say they want to get rid of their LV, but just try sticking a needle in their soul and see how long they keep cooperating. An uncooperative high LV monster can cause a lot of trouble. She shudders. There’s no way she’s dealing with that again. Then there’s the subjective data. Monsters on the edge of losing their minds are terrible at answering questions about the experience during treatment, and the panel refuses to accept her results without some form of patient report.

Ugh. Those self-righteous assholes want to deny her brilliant, revolutionary cure to all of monster-kind on the basis of a few technicalities. She taps her claws against the desk, fuming. “There has to be a way around this.” If she can just find someone, anyone, with high LV who is reasonably sane and would be motivated enough or have little enough sense of self-preservation to be a cooperative research subject…

Oh. Well of course there’s Papyrus. Well, a Papyrus, the one from her universe. The crazy one who goes by Twist now. That bastard has been on the edge of losing it for years but has never quite tipped over the edge. She nearly had him a few years ago, back when she first started her work underground, but his brother talked him out of it. Undyne kept trying to convince the little fluff ball for her, but eventually they’d given up. But now… Things are different now. Not with the fluff ball, but if she can just go around the fluff ball…

Twist is losing his mind. Anyone even tangentially acquainted with that multi-universal pack of skeletons knows that. Anyone with any basic understanding of LV should know that. The fact that he’s kept it mostly together this long suggests a level of determination or attachment or stubbornness or something that most monsters don’t have. Maybe enough of it to actually go through with the treatment? And based on some of the stunts she’s heard of, a high sense of self-preservation won’t be a problem. So, highly motivated, unlikely to be scared away by any necessary unpleasantness, really not much to lose given the deadline he has to know he’s living under, and LV high enough that no one can say she’s extrapolating outside the range of her data. He’s perfect. Now she just has to get to him where no one else will have a chance to talk him out of it, at least until it’s too late to change his mind.

***

All that being said, it seems best to approach Twist at work, away from all the others. Undyne still keeps track of all possible troublemakers from their universe so it’s easy to find out where he works. That’s how she finds herself greeting a pair of skeletal legs sticking out from underneath a car.

“Twist? Is that you under the car?” she calls.

“Yep, I’m the only skeleton workin’ here so if yer talkin’ to a skeleton under a car it’s prob’ly me.” He rolls out from under the car and waves. “Hey, Iggy. Whatcha doin’ ‘round here? Havin’ car trouble? We’ll getcha fixed up in no time.”

“No, no car trouble. Actually, I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” Twist teases with raised browbones, “well now ya got my interest. Does yer girl know ‘bout this proposal? I’m up fer anythin’, but I’m not so sure she is.”

“Not that kind of proposal!” Fellverse monsters shouldn’t blush this easily.

“What kind of proposal it is, then? Does everyone have ta be dressed, or is that negotiable?”

“It’s not that kind of proposal! Forget that I said the word proposal. It has nothing to do with a proposal. Can you please try to be serious for one minute?”

“Proposals can be very serious.” Iggy glares and Twist grins. “Fine, fine, what’s this not-proposal ya got fer me?”

“You know what I’ve been working on since Asriel’s coronation, don’t you?” Twist abruptly loses his teasing air.

“I do. Think I’ve told ya before that I’m not really in’erested in meltin’, though.”

“Oh, no, the research is way past that point. No one’s melted in months, well, I mean a little bit, but not melted, melted, and I’ve got that part worked out too. Actually, that’s what I came here to tell you. I’ve found a cure!” Twist’s jaw drops.

“What? Ya found… what?”

“A cure for LV! Money from a new major donor gave me access to equipment and materials that I never dreamed of, which let me break through a few major obstacles that had stumped me for years, and now the treatment is already in clinical trials and it works! It really works!” Twist stumbles against the car and decides to sit down before he falls down as his legs give out in shock.

“Are, are ya serious?” Iggy nods enthusiastically. “Yer not exaggeratin’, or brushin’ over some technicalities, or playin’ some sick practical joke ‘cause I swear if you are ya won’ leave this place alive, or…”

“No, no, no, none of that. It’s not an easy cure like ‘take a pill, then get all better right away’ easy, and like I said, it’s still in clinical trials so it’s not approved for the mass market yet, but it’s real and it works.”

“When can I have it?”

“Once it makes it through clinical trials it will have to be approved by a review board and the sovereigns, so whenever all that is done is when it will be available to the general public.” She’s got him. She’s definitely got him. Now is the time to reel him in.

“An’ when’ll that be?

“I don’t know. The real holdup is the clinical trials. I need to show that it’s safe and effective in monsters across the whole range of possible LV, and volunteers with high LV are hard to find. The highest I’ve had so far is 9.” Twist’s sockets narrow. He’s clearly caught on to what she’s doing.

“An’ I suppose ya came here today hopin’ ta find a volunteer.”

“Well, yes. I didn’t think you’d mind. It would give you access to the treatment months or even years earlier than you’d have it otherwise and I know LV is a particularly time-sensitive issue for you.”

“Mhmm. Can’t deny ya’ve got a point there. An’ can ya guarantee I won’t melt?”

“Absolutely no melting. I’m not saying the treatment will be fun. It’s actually pretty painful and can go on for days, even weeks to get rid of as much LV as you have. You’ll probably want to come up with something to tell your friends and family unless you want them worrying about you the whole time. But won’t it be worth it to come home free of LV and having paved the way for everyone else to be free of LV too?”

“So that’s the whole story, huh? I come with you, get this ‘treatment,’ be miserable for a few weeks an’ then I‘m cured? Why do I suspect yer leavin’ somethin’ out?”

“I’m really not. I mean, I haven’t explained every detail, but I will if you come back to the lab with me. I’ll explain the whole process and you can back out at any time before we start, but I know you’re not going to want to because I know you want this. Come on, do you really want to wait around until you hurt someone or lose your mind? I’ve worked with plenty of monsters who lost themselves to their LV-”

“An’ melted quite a few of ‘em.”

“-and that’s not something you want to go through, or put your little brother through. I know you two are close. Just imagine what it would be like for him if one day you attack him, or if he finds out you just went crazy one day and you’re never coming back, or if you kill yourself to keep that from happening.”

“Ok, yes, I get it! I don’ need ta hear it, I already know all that shit!”

“Now imagine coming home to him and telling him truthfully that none of that is ever going to happen, that all of your LV is gone and you can live the rest of your lives without ever worrying about it again. Imagine the same for your friends, each of them losing the LV that’s been weighing on them or their loved ones for years. Imagine what it’ll do for monster-human relations when humans can no longer point to high LV monsters to prove that all monsters are dangerous and shouldn’t have any rights. Imagine-”

“That’s enough! Ya think I don’ know what gettin’ rid of LV would mean? Think I don’ think about it every fuckin’ day?”

“I know you do. That’s why I know you want this. If you want to eliminate LV, and I know you do, then come help me get rid of it. We have the power to do something completely, unequivocally good, here. Just come to my lab and we can do it. We can do it today!”

“Ok.”

“You know you want to-”

“I said ok!” Twist snaps. “You can stop yer grand speech. ‘M convinced. Let’s go cure LV. Jus’ lemme finish with this car an’ I’ll go take off work an’ tell my bro that ‘m going on vacation fer awhile. He’ll be annoyed I didn’t warn him but he won’ be that surprised that I went off on some random trip.”

chapter 2

#Twistfell Papyrus #Twistfell Alphys #more skeletons but they aren't here yet #hurt/comfort #LV problems #LV cure #medical treatment #careless treatment of research participants causing unintentional harm #Those ethical rules and guidelines exist for a reason Iggy #i have no idea what to even tag #and only a vague idea of how tagging works #soul damage #altered states of mind #remembered trauma #brief mention of suicidal thoughts #it's not my fault; Lady Kit got her boy into this situation and he needs rescuing #well actually I got him into this specific situation but I didn't create his problems #this is a terrible way to rescue someone #unfortunately he's very whumpable #and also very badass #but also very wonderful and deserves all good things #honestly most of this story is Twist being surprisingly ok with a shitty situation and his friends and family taking care of him #my version of fluff

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