twisted - muke - the distortion trilogy 1

1.8

A/N: TRIGGER WARNING (self harm, suicide, anorexia(?) and other typical 'gordon related' themes)

LUKE'S P.O.V.

Something is wrong with Michael, and it isn't hard to tell. He's acting distant, and when he isn't acting distant, he's acting way too happy. I don't mean it offensively, of course, but Michael isn't a generally happy person. He's giggly, sure, but I know his life is hard.

It's almost like he isn't himself, and knowing Michael, I guess that is a possibility...

Deciding to take action on this realization, I reach for my phone, sitting on my desk. I am planning to call Michael, to ask him if I can come over. Once I get over there, I will kiss him all over his face and beg him to tell me what's wrong.

I have my phone in my hand, my fingertip hovering over Michael's contact name when my phone begins to ring, the familiar chorus of a song I haven't listened to in ages gracing my ears. I roll my eyes, my thumb headed for the decline button, when my eyes catch a glimpse of the caller ID.

Michael.

-

MICHAEL'S P.O.V.

You can't ignore me forever!

I groan at Michael's nagging. He's not used to being trapped in the back of my mind, but it's about time that he took his turn.

We haven't eaten in days...aren't you hungry?

"No, Michael," I growl, sick of his constant whining. "I am not hungry. Neither are you."

But--

"Neither are you."

We return to a comfortable silence--uncomfortable for Michael, I'm sure--for a few precious moments before he decides to interrupt my peace and quiet again.

I miss Lukey.

"Shut up," I groan.

Please go away again, Gordon, I'll do anything!

I roll my eyes.

I'll...I'll--you know what I'll do.

That catches my attention.

"Willingly?" I raise an eyebrow.

I-I guess so.

That's a first.

"You do realize you can't pull anything, right?" I warn Michael. "You're weak. I can gain control over you whenever I want." I make sure there's enough venom in my voice to let Michael know I'm serious, but it doesn't take much. He's terrified of me.

I know. I'll do it...I promise.

I wince at the familiar pain in my head, blinking back tears so Gordon won't think I'm weak.

"Gordon?" I ask.

I"m right here, idiot.

"And I'm here!"

I can't stop the tears that spring into my eyes this time--they're tears of joy. I've never been trapped like that for more than a day or so. I think I missed three days, this time... I rub my hands down my arms and over my face, just to assure myself that I'm really in control again.

I am.

Fucking idiot, I'm in control. Now, remember what you promised?

My breath hitches in my throat as I jog my memory. "R-right." For a split second I regret making the oath, but only for a split second. I can speak, I can see, I can feel again, and that is worth anything.