-x-
The shelter. How come it sound like something safe when it was completely the opposite?
Day in and day out. They all blurred into something that's hard to swallow. Months? Years? They didn't know. Did it matter?
They had to count.
Whenever a new owner comes to purchase them, a countdown will happen— at least, to Sun and Moon. A week till the new owner could take full responsibility for them.
One week left; seven days.
Then four.
Then two.
Then, the owner might cancel, or reschedule their arrival. So, it rewinds to a week again.
Seven days.
Five.
Then four.
They keep counting. But counting doesn't make it better— no, it makes it worst. Who counts for the day they'll be taking away? A day that isn't gonna be pretty? It's a hazard of emotions to have whenever they scratch a new day off, waiting and anticipating everything.
How bad will their new owner be?
Like the one before? Worst than it? Better?
No, it can never be better. They lost the hope for that. It repeats and Sun and Moon started to hate change.
Were they too dramatic for not being able to handle it? Did the other slaves think the same? Was it fair at all to want help?
They don't think they can handle this...
-x-
Mrs. Anderson wouldn't leave them be.
"Why are you walking behind me? Come here." She says— ordered. It isn't like she wanted them to walk beside her, she just wanted her friends and coworkers to see her as someone different— special. That she is so kind to those pitiful creatures. It made Moon sneer, but who is he to say anything at all? He'd risk harming himself and his counterpart too...
What a shame.
They don't listen, they just keep walking behind her as she led them to the room where they'd take a shower and be put into a new gown— to be ready for their owner. Their shorter legs weren't as fast as hers, especially with how hungry they felt. So weak and hopeless, following her to their torment like a love-sick puppy.
The flooring is cold against their feet.
The washing rooms were colder— the water was freezing. They'd have a few minutes to rinse themselves— a luxury after having their hair so greasy like that. But it was too cold they didn't want it anymore— it was so cold they barely got under the dripping water. And with their new clothes, a gown that barely keeps them warm, they were ready to go.
It felt... like a joke, how they have to clean up like so for someone who wouldn't be kind to them...
Perhaps they were a joke.
Moon wanted to snicker, but cut himself off before it turned into an ugly sob.
They were so, so tired. And, for the hundredth time this day, they wondered how bad their new owner will be.
Letting their legs carry them, Sun and Moon didn't dare hope for the best.
-x-
You sit the-now-clean Sun on the edge of the bed and put the extra towel over their head, preventing water from dripping on their face.
"I'll go kill the candles, give me a second—" You start but Sun cuts you off.
"Kill 'em?" He looks petrified. "Why would you kill the candles?"
You pause, searching his face if this was another pun, but the confusion was clear. "I meant blowing them off, Sunny. They're a safety hazard if they were left like that," You give a smile, tilting your head. "We can use the candles again if you really like them?"
This seems to do the trick and he brightens, if just slightly. Sun nods, wet locks of hair smacking him on the face.
"Alright. Here, I've got you some clothes until I get better ones. Wear the shorts only for now, I have to do something before you wear the sweater, okay? I'll be back in a bit." Sun looks at the folded clothes before giving you a hesitant nod. You take this as your leave, closing your bedroom door behind you.
To the bathroom you went, turn on the lights, and blew off the candles. You tidied up a little and threw the hospital gown in the laundry. With those out of the way, you make it downstairs to get the medication Freddy had written for them.
It was noon by now, around three o'clock, so they should take the medicine and apply the creams.
Snatching the bag, and counting that you have all medical boxes inside— Two creams (one for the burns and one for the bruises) and two oral pill boxes (antibiotics and slow-k), four in total. You walk back upstairs and knock on the door. A muffled and low "Come in," is heard and you open the door.
Sun still sat where you left him, towel around his shoulders to help from the cold, and black shorts peeking out from under the gray towel. At least, it seems to fit. You sit next to them on the bed and put all the medications on the sheets. "Those," You show them off. "Are what the doctor had instructed. Two creams which you'll have to use, the blue one two times a day and the other once a day, and two pills you'll have to take twice a day too." Sun doesn't seem like he enjoys the concept of it, but slowly nods regardless. "I'll help you remember them." Getting the blue and white cream first, you start to open it. "This is for the bruises, it helps soothe it so it wouldn't hurt. It's mostly for your back, since the bruises there are bigger."
Sun seems to take the hint and hesitatingly sheds away the towel to show their back to you. Now clean from mud and blood, you could see how vibrant yet bruised their body was. The yellow and cream colors more clear, making the brownish freckles more pronounced. Though, with that came how mad the bruises were— it seemed some were already healing, but another one was new. The bruises and scratches on their arms and legs were smaller compared to the foot-sized ones on the back.
Actually— you don't think you want to know how they got them.
Or maybe you do, if just to spark the anger in you even more. That man isn't going to hide from you.
Spreading some of the cream on the tips of your fingers, you pause. "I'll spread this on your back. It wouldn't hurt, but if it did, tell me, okay?"
Sun just hums and seems to tense up as you apply the white cream on their back where bruises were. The process is slow but they began to loosen the tension a little bit. A few flinches here and there, but they say they were fine. Those bruises must hurt, even if your touch is featherlight. Finishing their back, you start with the arms, which didn't have as much. Their legs only had one under their left knee, a nasty one, and under their feet, but it seems like it was healing.
Closing the cream, you open the other one, smaller in size. "This is for the burns on your neck," You lean in. "It will help it stop itching." You eye the metallic collar, feeling almost suffocated just looking at it. "I'll have to find a way to remove this thing too..." You mumble, though, your words are heard and Sun suddenly jerks away from you.
"No!" They shake their head, the towel falling down. A look of desperation crosses their face.
You freeze. "What? Why?"
"No no no! It'll shock us if y-you tried. It needs a specific USB to be opened." They stutter, eyes on your hands. Their lips twitched, as if trying to smile, but that doesn't happen. Red eyes linger on yours the longest they've had.
Your expressions blank out and you try not to overthink the fact they knew it will shock them— have they tried to remove it before? Did they see someone else try and pay the price? You try not to squeeze the cream in your hands, but your teeth still grit in anger. You really have to stop this habit— your jaws were starting to hurt.
Heaving a sigh from your nose, you speak, keeping your tone leveled. "I won't let it harm you. I'll find a way to disable it, don't worry, sweetheart." Sun doesn't look convinced, and you swore you saw the glimmer of tears in those big eyes. You hum. "How about you apply the cream and I'll go get the hairdryer. Sounds fair?" You hand the cream to them as Sun nods, at least content with the deal. Using some tissues, you clean your hands from the cream, which smelled like copper, and went searching in your drawers.
"Oh! Mrs. Lawrence used to have one like that," Sun suddenly says and you look at him, trying to ignore the sudden shift in mood.
"The hairdryer?" They nod, almost done with their applying to their neck. "Well, hopefully you like them. It's not great to walk around with wet hair, might get you sick." You walk to the bed and plug the dryer in the outlet, sitting it on a low level.
"Really?" They frown when their fingers brush over a tender spot, but they keep going until almost all the area is covered with the burns cream.
"Really." You nod. "Are you done?"
"I... think?" They show you their work and you smile.
"Yes, great work." You praise, handing them a tissue to clean their hand with. Sun looks away, bashful, and you wonder for a second if he had never gotten praise for a work. And, yet again, more sudden shift in mood. You don't let the thought linger and with a click, the hairdryer is turned on.
Sun, surprisingly, doesn't flinch at the sudden noise. A look of wonder crosses their face, though, and as you move the device towards their hair, they squeal.
You pause, leaning to look at their face. When they say nothing, you continue, combing your fingers through their hair to dry it out.
"Oh! I see why Mrs. Lawrence likes it so much!" They speak above the sound, making you realize how loud their voice could be. A small smile was on their face, excited you'd say, the sharp teeth barely poking out. "She uses it to style her hair sometimes, too."
"Is that so?" You tilt your head, a sly grin on your lips. "So you like the hairdryer now too?" You move it near their forehead, making them close their eyes.
"I think it's fun." They say, a little more timidly, their smile doesn't change, but it still melts by the edges.
You shrug. "I think it's fun too."
"Really?"
"Really." You chuckle. "I think it's warm, especially after taking a shower in winter, like now." You encourage him by telling your opinion, your hand still combing through blond hair— it was almost glittering now that no mud or dirt was in it, blond locks almost golden. And with the fact that it loses tension and changes color makes it even more eye-catching.
The locks began to completely dry in your hands, flying behind and over Sun's face to his delight. Perhaps you could take them to visit those flower fields, the breeze there is so refreshing, maybe they will like it.
Well, they were having the time of their life just with the hairdryer, leaning into its warm air with closed eyes.
Yeah, you'll probably arrange that. As soon as everything is okay.
You click the hairdryer off, holding a chuckle at the pout on Sun's face. "Let's get you clothed up, Sunshine, then perhaps we can watch something after you take your medicine? Or maybe play a game of sorts?"
"Game?" He quickly asks, not bothering to hide the excitement it got him.
"If you'd like. I have some board games, unless you know a game you like? It's been a while since little ol' me played anything." You wave a hand.
Sun opens their mouth then closes it, a thoughtful look crosses their face. "...I— Does your back hurt?"
That was... out of context.
"You mean when that fucker hit me with his car? Nah. It'll take more than that to put me down." You shrug and hold a wince when your shoulder blade sarcastically sent a buzz of pain to you. Sun mumbles something, looking down. They tug on their hands, digging their claws into their wrist but not enough to break skin. "Huh?" You ask, leaning close after sitting the hairdryer aside.
"We're sorry." The silence that follows was a little heavy, at least, on their part. They weren't sure what to expect, but they had to apologize for the trouble they had put you through.
It was selfish not to apologize. You had been running around nonstop yesterday because of them, they had to repay you somehow.
"It was our fault he hurt you. Perhaps you shouldn't have helped us, it would've been better. But! But we're glad for that! We're both so so so thankful for your help and we promise to— I don't. I-I promise to do something for you in turn!" Sun's forced smile twitched at how many times Moon interrupted him— it was rude!
Moon was against the idea, apparently, even if his thoughts weren't any better than Sun's. He wanted to say that you brought it upon yourself, but he knew he, at least, appreciated the concern. He didn't want to be a liar, but he didn't want to tell the truth either.
And, besides, what could they do to repay you? There really was nothing in their hands to do anything. They'd offer to help clean stuff, but with how their leg is, they wouldn't do much.
So very useless. They can't even offer anything as a thank you.
"I know we can do something for you! Do you? I do! It isn't gonna be difficult! Promise promise! Promises aren't something to play with. Exactly!" They continued, ignoring Moon's words over theirs. It was becoming too loud.
Sun swallowed the thick emotions that threatened to surface. They had cried enough as is! How pathetic could it be if they kept on doing so? Would you grow tired of their whines? They wouldn't fault you if you did. You didn't know them— they weren't your friends nor family, you wouldn't want the trouble even if you claimed otherwise. It's just so much to shoulder, it wasn't your place or your problem to pick their pieces, no matter how much either of them wanted a shoulder to lean on. It wouldn't be fair to you, and after everything you had done, Sun doesn't want to bother you any further, especially since they didn't have anything to repay you with.
What a shame, really, you seemed like a nice person...
But they didn't want to go back to that man— after what happened, he'll have their head! Perhaps literally. Just the thought of returning made their body tremble. Neither of them wanted to go back, but they couldn't stay here and bother you! That would be so very selfish! Was it better to be selfish than be hurt? What is it your fault if they took your kindness for granted? They can't say, but they didn't want to go back, but they didn't want to bother you, but— oh, heart, it started hurting. Would the world smile upon them if they were selfless? After everything that happened, would the end of the tunnel finally come into view?
They're still talking? Was Sun still ranting like he always does? Words became blurry.
The feeling of tears welling in their eyes made them jolt— no! They can't cry! They didn't want to cry! Something heavy seemed to settle in the pit of their stomach— nausea twisting deeper but closer to the back of their throat, the late breakfast they had seeming heavier than it should. Sun swallowed again, trying to keep his breakfast down— he shouldn't have eaten anything—
Have you said something? They think they've heard you speak, but your voice was so muffled. They think they've seen your lips move, eyebrows furrowed in worry— so much worry and they can't repay it. Their hands were on their mouth now, pressing tightly over it, and for what?
Were they breathing? Has Moon asked this? No— they tried sucking on a breath but it was harder than it should, no air would reach their lungs and their panic leveled tenfold.
They were suddenly on the ground, had they fallen again? They didn't want to fall! Would they break their other leg? Become completely incapable against that man? Would they break their arm instead? Was it any better?
Maybe they'll break their neck this time—
Their stomach heaved, sweat gathering at their neck and forehead. The sounds around them buzzing and loud yet too faint and hard to understand, it hurt their rays, and the vibrations felt heavy as if something was pressing harshly against them. Their body was suddenly numb, everything felt like they were spinning around.
Sourness filled their mouth and their effort to keep the food at bay proved fruitless. They felt something press close to their body but they couldn't comprehend what it was— plastic, maybe?
Their throat burned with stomach acid, tears freely running down their cheeks— this wasn't supposed to happen! They were trying to hold all of that in why would it deny them?! Why make a fool of themselves just because they couldn't keep those emotions pressed in? It was so shameful! Those thoughts made an ugly sob breakthrough between their heaves, and when their lungs got a taste of air, it suddenly wanted more, urging them to take more despite their inability.
Their body trembled heavily and Sun despised the gross feeling on their face— they hated throwing up! It was why they prefer not to eat a lot. Not much food means not many things to throw up. It wasn't the food— the food was good and they wanted more, but nausea wouldn't let them out of its jaws. Moon doesn't listen, he eats even when Sun tells him not to— it was for their sake, especially since that Sun is the one to feel nauseous more than Moon because of their anxiety.
It wasn't fair. Neither to them.
Not fair that Moon wouldn't listen nor was it fair that Sun wanted him to.
So conflicting— everything was so conflicting.
When nothing came out anymore other than gasps for air and strangled sobs and hiccups, Sun became aware of the hand holding his hair from his face, and the other that rubbed over his back. It sent goosebumps all over him, what's with how warm the hand is. Its touch is featherlight, almost ticklish on their feverish skin.
The tears made their sight blurry, but they could see the basket that was placed under them, and Sun immediately closed his eyes than to stare at his half-digested food, now laying inside. Swallowing proved to be a mistake and they gagged at the taste, sniffling shakily. It felt so hot yet so cold around him, burning yet freezing. All the energy they had was drained leaving them completely dry and exhausted.
His limbs were weak and Sun wasn't sure what was holding him from falling over.
A tissue came in his line of vision, he hadn't even realized he opened his eyes— not that he could see much. A slightly familiar hand came with it, drying the tears and then wiping away over his mouth. It cleaned their face tenderly and slowly. Their hair was suddenly on their face— had their tie fallen? Sun really should tie it tighter...
An arm came around their middle and they felt themselves move, leaning over something. It supported their back on it, so comfy they felt their eyelids close. Their head was so very heavy and their body lost all its tension— why were they tense anyway? Their hammering heart felt so distant and so did the noises around them— was someone talking? Was the TV on? Were they having one of those funny vivid dreams? Those always left them so restless.
All the feelings in their limbs disappeared, not even the heavyweight of their right leg stayed. Their breath suddenly felt even and the darkness was inviting, so, they gave in to it.
What was better than giving in anyway?