Insincere - Sequel to "Heartfelt" (Bunnymund x Reader)

Chapter 11

You stood quickly. "Bunny? Why?" 

"He's hurting. He's hurting terribly." 

"What happened to him?" 

Ombric shook his head. "I can't say." 

You turned to Aiden. "I'll be back." 

He stood. "Don't worry about me. Make sure he's okay." 

"I will come back, Aiden." 

He smiled lightly. "I know." 

You hurried out the door and into the road, where you formed a pillar of light. Pitch was hurrying over. He stopped next to you as you prepared to step into the pillar. 

"Are you coming?" you asked him. 

"I think you'd better do this alone." 

You nodded and got into the pillar, immediately feeling yourself disappear from the place. Your head was racing, your mind shocked into relative stillness. You couldn't even begin to imagine what might be so urgent that Ombric had told you to go back. You felt weak, overwhelmed, but Bunny needed you. And you probably needed him. 

His home inside the Warren was thrashed. The furniture was moved around recklessly, the decor thrown about carelessly. Water from a vase was spilled across the floor, flowers scattered about. Small ornaments were shattered, thrown about the place with abandon. Paintings that once lined the walls were thrown down, even torn. The kitchen was worse: Everything was out of drawers and cupboards, all on the counter or floor. 

"Bunny?" 

It was silent. 

"Bunny!" 

Your throat was tight. Tears were stinging your eyes and your chest was thumping. You felt that you could scream. What had happened to his place? Where was he? 

You hurried into his room. You gasped and covered your mouth. You felt your heart stop. 

His human form was leaning against the wall, bruised and bloody. His hair was ragged, his eyes dull beyond what you thought they could be. They were wide and tinged with red, the results of sleepless nights. His hands were trembling violently, drawn close to his chest in a tearful manner. You could see his ribs through his shirt. He looked like he might very well fall over with even the slightest breeze. 

"Bunny." 

"Stop," he mumbled, turning his head. "Don't do this anymore." 

"Bunny..." 

"Phaedrus!" He groaned and doubled over. "Stop..." 

You walked over to him and put your hands on his shoulders. "Bunny, hey. It's me." 

"I'm done with you!" he screeched. His fingers dug into the skin on his own arms, drawing blood in multiple places. He was swaying on his own feet. "Stop hurting me like this!" 

"It's okay, Bunny, Phaedrus isn't here. Look at me, Bunny." 

His head whipped up, his eyes blazing. "He's always here," he growled fiercely, baring his teeth. You flinched away. "He's always here! You're here! He's here!" 

"Bunny - " 

"Get out!" he screamed. "I don't want you here!" 

"What did he do to you...?" 

"What did he do? What did you do! What did you do! Look what you've done!" 

His screaming was hysterical, nothing like his voice. The only thing that portrayed him as Bunnymund was the accent. Your heart was ravaging your chest, but you wouldn't leave. He'd been traumatized, and you needed to know why, how.