Burnout - An Inanimate Insanity Fanfic

5 - Numb

**[WARNING!]**

**[THIS STORY CONTAINS: ABUSE, SELF HARM, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, AND GENERAL VIOLENCE]**

***[ MOLD WARNING ]***

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{ Nickel POV }

Ever since the kids came home, things have been weirdly tense between OJ and Balloon. Paper mentioned to everyone that OJ was swamping himself in his work. Bills, complaints... Whatever you do as a hotel manager. I'm kind of in a similar situation myself.

I turn to look over at Balloon, who's moping in bed. "Dude. Dinner's gonna be in a minute." I tell him.

He just groans, shifting his rubbery face to look up at me. I narrow my eyes at him. "You need to eat something, ya know."

Again, Balloon just shifts away, groaning. "Mmn......"

"I'm serious, dude." I find myself hopping from my own bed, trotting over. "It's been weeks since you've left your room."

"I'm not hungry." I know damn well that's a lie. I could hear his stomach growl from a mile away. I continue to try and convince him to leave his room.

"Just come downstairs and grab food. I'm not even gonna force ya to eat it."

"Mmnnn........." I watch as Balloon slides himself out of bed, onto the floor. Finally able to fully see his face, he looks like a fucking mess. His eyes are almost hooded with the bags drooping from his face. He smelled like wet socks. Mold was growing out of his head.

I stare at Balloon in shock. "Geez, dude!" My mouth stands agape for a minute. "You should get that checked out."

"Oh? This?" Balloon motions to the mushrooms growing out of his head. "It's fine. It should come out with some bleach and vinegar."

"Uh, yeah. You do that." I turn to leave the room. "I'll be waiting for ya downstairs."

I watch as he slowly nods. My throat instinctively makes a low, gruffly noise in response. Simply put: I leave the room.

Walking down the steps, I can see Paper waiting for me. We've been exchanging information on OJ and Balloon when we realized something was up.

"Nickel! Great news! I managed to convince OJ to leave his desk!" Paper grinned happily.

I frown. "Uh, yeah, I good news for ya too."

Paper tilts his head curiously. "Oh?"

"Yeah... I also managed to convince Balloon to get out of bed." I laugh awkwardly with uncertainty.

"Oh dear..."

We both know what this entails, and neither of us are excited for it.

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{ Soap POV }

Dinner was awfully tense today. OJ and Balloon had finally come out of their rooms to eat with us, but the tension between the two was so heavy, it felt suffocating. Nobody spoke a word. Just the silent clinks of the dishes we ate from.

I look down at the food in front of me. It tasted spice-less; bland, if you will. In all fairness, Paper wasn't the best cook. But at least he cared enough to stick by everyone. What I'm trying to say is. he did his best. Between caring for OJ and managing the hotel in his stead, Paper's been doing well. I don't really have the right to complain.

I didn't really enjoy all of this right now. I just hoped and prayed that somebody would speak up. In that moment, Knife stood from his chair.

"Alright. Enough's enough. I'm not sure what the FUCK happened between you two, but suck it up." He pointed between Balloon and the tangy juice, who watched with scowls on their faces. OJ was the next to stand, not a word as he cleared his plate. Paper rushed to follow after him. Balloon would eventually follow suit.

I watched as Knife sat back down, sighing in frustration. Pickle gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You did what you could."

"I know. I just wish I knew what was wrong."

"We all do." Salt said with snark. Trophy nodded and Knife scoffed.

"Surprised you two care."

"Please. We're not heartless."

The dull blade rolled his eyes. By the time I spoke up, it was just Salt, Trophy, Pickle, Knife, and me.

"We could ask around. Maybe somebody knows what's happening?"

Pickle and Knife were the first in agreement. Salt shrugged. "I've got nothing else to do anyways."

We all turned to Trophy, who stared back less-than-enthusiastically. He scoffed. "Fine."

Pickle pumped his fist. "Yes! We'll be such a great detective squad!"

Knife snorted and I laughed. "Detective squad?"

Salt checked her nails. "We are NOT calling ourselves a detective squad."

We all thought for a moment for a better group name. Trophy blinked.

"What about Quintet?"

"'Quintet'?" Pickle echoed.

He nods. "It's a group of five people playing music or singing together."

I smiled. "That sounds nice."

Knife scoffed. "Not gonna question how you know what that is."

"Sounds fancy. I'll be down." A small smile forms on Salt's face.

Pickle stands in excitement, raising his finger to the sky. "Alright, then! The Quintet's coming for you OJ and Balloon! We'll figure out what you two are hiding, and win!"

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