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razzle-zazzle · 3 years

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Whumptober Day 03: Sticks & stones may break my bones but...

Taunting + Insults

1644 Words; Sleeper Skull AU

TW for verbal degradation

Cole didn’t notice anything wrong when he destroyed the skull.

In fact, the very first hint that something was wrong only occurred when the ninja had finally returned to the monastery, with a promise from the newly-coronated Vania to keep in touch.

And it wasn’t much of a hint, either. Just a sharp feeling that something was off followed by a mild headache that lasted the rest of the night.

It became clear what was happening the next morning.

“Good morning.”

Cole jolted upright, looking around his room frantically. Who had said that?

“Not very bright, are we?” The voice chuckled, and it was then that Cole realized the voice was coming from inside his head.

Cole groaned. “Oh, what now?”

Another chuckle, very clear amusement pulsing through Cole’s head from the source. “Surely you recognize me! I’m only what remains of the skull you used all of your power to destroy.”

Cole froze. That… was probably not good. But he’d destroyed the skull with the spinjitzu burst! He was sure of it!

The skull’s amusement pulsed through his head, alongside what felt like satisfaction? Images—no, Cole realized, memories—followed, impressions of a man casting a spell on himself. A longevity spell.

Cole’s eyes narrowed. That sounded a lot like what Yang had tried to do with the Yin Blade.

Another mental chuckle. “Ah, but you see, the man you’re thinking of was trying to live forever. I merely wanted to live on after death through my own remains.”

Okay. So it was another case of some guy doing stupid things to ensure he wasn’t forgotten. Cole could understand the feeling, but that didn’t mean he’d allow his new mental roommate to stick around.

Getting up out of the bed, Cole moved to get dressed. He’d go to Wu first, who would probably know what to do, or at least be willing to research the subject—and then he’d let the others know the skull had stuck around and might become a problem later.

Cole felt another pulse of amusement, this time tinged with condescension. The skull didn’t speak, exactly, but Cole did get the ideas it was conveying loud and clear.

“I’m not stupid enough to believe that.” He muttered, but… he supposed the skull was making some degree of sense. So he wouldn’t bug the whole team with something so insignificant. Whatever.

Cole knew from experience that Wu was exceptionally good at keeping secrets.

But now Cole could feel uncertainty creeping up in the back of his mind. They had only just returned home from Shintaro. Would it really be fair to spring this on them so soon?

And it wasn’t like the skull was actually a problem. Annoying, definitely, but clearly in no position to do anything now.

Cole fiddled with his shirt uncertainly. “Still… I probably should tell them…”

He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or not.

The skull scoffed. “Oh, go right ahead. Tell them all about how you failed to destroy me the first time. I’m sure they won’t mind.” The skull’s tone was arrogant. Cole wanted to punch it.

But… it had a point.

Cole sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to dump his problems on everything else like that. And how would he even approach the issue, anyway? It’s not like he could just go up and tell them “you know that magic skull Vangelis was using to power himself? Yeah, it’s in my head now criticizing the way I dress.” They’d look at him like he’d taken a hit to the head.

It’s not like the skull was a problem. Having someone else in his head wasn't the end of the world.

Cole would just… wait a little bit to tell the others. But he definitely would, once enough time passed.

Yeah.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole realized he’d probably made a mistake once a few weeks had passed.

Too much time had passed. Now it would just be awkward.

But the skull—Marcellus, that was his name—still wasn’t a problem, so Cole just left it alone.

It was fine. Really, it was.

Cole probably should have known better.

+=+=+=+=+

Maercellus’ taunts got worse.

It didn’t matter what Cole was doing or saying or even just thinking; the necromancer had a snide remark for everything. Training (“You call that a kick? What are you, ten?”), playing video games (“Oops! Another life gone! You sure are bad at this, aren’t you?”), painting (“That doesn’t even look like a bird!”), running errands (“You’re going to forget the milk. Again~.”)—Cole couldn’t get a moment’s peace no matter what he was doing.

Benefits of a mental roommate, Cole supposed, bitter taste in his throat. But honestly? He’d faced much worse criticisms before.

He’d practically been raised in the performing arts industry, after all.

So as frustrated as Cole was, he wasn’t any more agitated than when he was at Marty Oppenheimer’s. Therefore, as annoying as they were, Marcellus’ jabs barely qualified as a problem.

Besides, Cole was a ninja. He had bigger problems to worry about. He wasn’t about to be humbled by something so insignificant.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole awoke to tears streaming down his face.

That… had not been a pleasant dream.

Sitting up, Cole wiped at his eyes with his arm, trying to forget the nightmare.

Marcellus, the little bitch he was proving to be, responded to this by replaying bits of the nightmare like a highlight reel, vague interest and amusement flickering through Cole’s mind.

“What an interesting dream.” Marcellus replayed the bit where Cole fell, and Cole curled in on himself at the memory of it. “You really do have a history with falling. And nobody ever bothers to try and catch you, either.”

“They—” Cole started, swallowing. “It’s not like—” He snorted. “It’s not like they could have caught me. Besides,” he added, before Marcellus could get a snide remark in, “I can handle myself. I’ve done plenty of rock climbing. A fall isn’t going to take me out.”

Some small part of Cole disagreed with that statement, but he ignored that part.

“Ah, but you don’t actually believe any of that, do you?” Marcellus taunted, self-satisfied with his little deduction.

Cole cringed. “Of course I do.” He said, voice softer than he intended. “I can handle myself.”

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

Marcellus snorted. “Are you really that unsure of yourself? And to think, you defeated Vangelis. I guess that says more about how weak that man truly was.” There was a bitter edge to the sorcerer’s words, disgust and condescension all wrapped into a pretty little mental package.

Cole huffed, flopping back down onto the bed. “Oh, shut up”.

“Why? I’m just stating the truth. It’s not my fault if you’re pathetic enough to feel threatened by it.”

“Just stop, okay?” Cole sighed, brushing his hand through his hair. “I don’t need your bitching on top of everything else happening right now.”

Marcellus hmmed. “Sounds boring.”

Cole groaned, rolling over onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillow. He just wanted some rest, dammit.

Despite his efforts, sleep didn’t come.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole could really do without Marcellus’ snark in the middle of a battle. But he wasn’t that lucky, so he just did his best to ignore the necromancer’s jabs.

But then he slipped up and gave his opponent an opening—Marcellus hadn’t been distracting him that time. That mistake was all him.

The sorcerer laughed, schadenfreude filling his words. “Oh, look at that. Another Cole Mistake.”

Cole flinched, the movement allowing his opponent to get a solid hit in. That stung a lot more than it should have.

He still hadn’t quite recovered by that point, so his opponent took the opportunity to kick Cole while he was down.

Cole gasped at the pain. Oh, that was definitely going to bruise.

Before he could recover and counterattack, though, Kai intervened, saving Cole from making anymore stupid mistakes.

“Dude, is something wrong?” Kai asked, as Cole finally recovered enough to engage another opponent. “It’s not like you to be so unsteady.”

Unsteady. Cole bristled, then clamped down on his first reaction. “I’m fine.” He punched his current opponent harder than he needed to. “Just distracted.” His jaw was set, shoulders tensed, which did not make fighting any easier.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cole saw Kai give him a look. “Then undistract yourself.” Kai snapped, deflecting what would have been a nasty hit. “Save it for after the battle.”

Cole nodded, not trusting himself to say anything more.

Marcellus remained quiet for the rest of the battle.

Cole didn’t fuck up again.

He didn’t do very well, either.

+=+=+=+=+

They got back to the monastery later that night.

Cole slipped away into his room with a half-mumbled “‘m tired” before any of them could question his performance.

Jay had come by his door earlier, trying to convince Cole to open it, or at least open up and talk about whatever was bothering him. But Cole had pretended to be asleep, and eventually, Jay gave up and retired to his own bed for the night.

Cole was laying on his bed, lights off, staring up at the ceiling. It felt like his head was full of static. His throat felt tight. His eyes were dry.

Marcellus was quiet, leaving Cole to his thoughts.

Not that Cole needed Marcellus to criticize him when he could pick himself apart just fine.

It was stupid. Cole was being stupid. He was better than this, dammit, so why did it feel like he was falling apart?

He was stronger than this. It was just a rough patch. He had to be better than this, and he would be.

Right?

Cole grumbled, covering his face with his hands.

Marcellus was right.

“I am pathetic.”

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