Make it stop! Make it stop, oh god please, make it stop!
Another scream erupted from Edd's throat. Whatever pain the voice had caused him before was nothing compared to the agony his own friend was putting him through.
He felt his stomach jolt for the fifth time that day as it heaved up a mouthful of oily goop. Tord's nose wrinkled in disgust.
The injections hadn't been working as well as he hoped, they only succeeded in making the brunette vomit up what Tord had concluded as ectoplasm of some kind. The communist sighed, putting down the syringe.
"This isn't working in the slightest." He grumbled, looking up at Edd's vitals. He had been on a steady decline of health since the "exorcism" began, and Tord was getting frustrated. Running a hand through his hair, Tord turned towards the door. He needed a break.
Edd almost cried in relief as the communist left. He was so tired and his body ached all over. Not to mention the increasing pressure that seemed to come from inside his head. He let his limbs go limp and sighed as he slowly let the tension out of his quivering muscles.
The voice hadn't talked to him in days- or was it weeks? Edd couldn't remember. Keeping track of time wasn't even close to his first priority. He begged silently for his disembodied partner to talk to him. He knew it was there, he could feel it.
"Do you not like me anymore?" Edd thought to it. There was no response. Just the sensation of a hammer pounding frantically on his brain.
He squeezed his eyes shut to prevent tears of abandonment and pain from slipping out.
What had he done to deserve this?
Hours later, Edd heard the lab door open once again. Immediately, he started thrashing around, yanking at the restraints. His heart felt like it would thump right out of his chest. Pleads and threats streamed out of his mouth in jumbled sentences.
He winced when a hand came to rest on his forehead.
"Shh..." the person hushed. Whoever it was, they had a high, yet distinctly male voice. And an accent. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Edd let out a pathetic whimper as the man gently thread his fingers through his hair, but relaxed anyway.
"We convinced him to give you a break for a few days." The man said, untying the bonds. He stuck his arm under Edd's back, supporting him as he pulled him into a sitting position. Edd yelped as the sudden motion jarred his head. On the bright side, he could finally see the man's face. He had tannish skin and brown eyes, and he had grimaced when he realized he hurt the Brit.
"You have... chicken wings for hair..." Edd stated deliriously.
The man offered him a smile, bringing a cup of water to his lips. Edd sipped gratefully; his throat was feeling sore.
When the man removed the glass, Edd asked, "What's your name?"
The man's smile widened. "Patryck, but everyone just calls me Pat. And you're Edd, correct?"
Edd nodded before letting his head loll onto Pat's shoulder, groaning.
"'M tired," he mumbled.
"I can see that," Pat chuckled.
"'N' I hurt all over."
Pat's smile faded.
"I know."
The man climbed up behind Edd and let him lean against him. Edd snuggled into Pat's chest. This was much more comfortable than the operating table.
Edd sighed and slumped his entire weight against Pat. At last, he was able to succumb to sleep.
//mama pat TO THE RESCUE!!//