areazel: (Default)
Author: Areazel
Series: DOGs: Bullets and Carnage
Rating: K
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Summery: Just a story I had to write, didn't re-read. Just wrote it in fifteen minutes or so, I am stressed. Just heine and nill bein' cute. 

It was overwhelming sometimes, and he didn’t know if it was because he didn’t understand what emotions were, or if it was because he really did struggle that much in his life. He sat on the church pew, slumped against the hard back of it as he stared blankly at head of him at the stained glass. There were many reasons for him to hate Angelika Einstürzen‎, Mother. But of the less obvious ones it was the fact she hadn’t taken into account the fact that if they were modeled after humans they would have the brains of humans, they were able to feel what humans felt, feel the pain, and the loss. But they didn’t know how to deal with it, it just existed like they just existed. They were expected to handle it, but there was no way to know how. He had watched humans mourn, and he didn’t understand it. He had tried (maybe he had too much grief). He watched how someone was comforted by an arm around their shoulders, or softly spoken words (whispers that were lies). Overused words, ‘it will be alright’, ‘they are in a better place now’, ‘you’re not alone’. None of them were applicable to him, it wasn’t alright. And it never would be, and everyone around him knew it (maybe that was why no one ever comforted him, except Nill. Nill tried). He didn’t even try to think of going to a better place (maybe that was where humans went, but he wouldn’t go there. He didn’t deserve it, not after what he’d done). And he was very much alone, he lived alone, he fought alone, and he a freak. No one was like him, and everyone knew it. People avoided him, people whispered behind his back, and the cold metal fused to his skin taunted him.

Maybe that was why it overwhelmed him, he wasn’t made to process the human world, human emotions, human anything. He could try as hard as he wanted to humanize, but it was too late. Too late for him, he just had to get used to the dull ache in his stomach, and the sickening twinge of jealousy he felt when he saw someone be comforted (he would never admit that there was a small part of him that longed to be held and soothed and lied to because a lie was always better than reality). He supposed that was why Nill helped him, or she tried to, and she did help him. Her small gentle hands cupping his face, silently telling him that he wasn’t alone, not completely. The look in her eyes the spoke the words she couldn’t, the trust she put in him. The gentle flutter of her wings when he got the energy up to look at her, and it made him feel better, if just a bit. It numbed some of the pain, they both knew he would never be fixed. He would never be normal. He would never be in a better place, this was the best he would get. But Nill made this hell just a bit more tolerable, just a little less painful.


areazel: (Default)

January 2012

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