Unwanted (Broken!Cry x Pewdiepie) (Part 3)

As the hours progressed, a picture began to emerge. A solitary tree, turning an amber brown from its pure black base, bridging together a bright blue sky, with a black, almost rotting ground, empty except for the tree.

Ryan paused, setting down the pallet, before turning to grab a sheet, draping it over the finished painting. Placing the painting against a wall, Ryan shrieked, jumping back when he noticed Feliks, who jumped up.

‘I’m sorry!’ The Swede apologized, backing away with his hands outstretched.

‘W-W-When did y-y-you get here?’ Ryan asked, motionless as he looked at Feliks. He knew that he would get into his house at some point, but for him to discover his little, condition. He closed his eyes, awaiting the disgusted remarks, and the inevitable pain. Feliks cocked his head to the side, lowering his hands.

‘About two hours ago.’ Feliks answered, stepping forward to gently lay a hand on one of Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan’s head snapped up, revealing his mask, or what was left of it. The part that had covered Ryan’s left eye was gone, jagged edges pushing at the bare skin below a brilliant cerulean eye.

‘Why do they hurt you?’ Feliks murmured, his hand hovering the mask, barely brushing against the porcelain. Ryan shook, looking at Feliks wide-eyed, before pitching forward, straight into the man’s open arms, shaking violently.

It had been so long since Ryan had had contact with another human being; it just overwhelmed the younger man. Feliks stood quiet, encircling his arms around Ryan, rubbing his back gently, waiting as the shakes died down to visible tremors.

‘Are you alright?’ Ryan nodded; ignoring as the jagged edges of his mask pierced his skin, causing blood to run down his mask. Feliks noticed this with a wince, and directed the American to a chair.

‘Can you sit here for a second, while I go get some bandages?’ Ryan nodded, pointing to a door across the hallway. Walking in, Feliks ignored the bile that rose in his throat at catching sight of the sink, grabbing the aid kit, before rushing out. The sink was covered with dried and fresh blood, the colour indicating most of it had been there for a long time, and some of it recently. Perched on the counter was a blood-covered dagger, sitting patiently, as if waiting for someone. Crouching down next to the chair, Feliks got out the supplies he needed.

‘Ryan? I need you to take off your mask, I can-‘Feliks was interrupted by a forceful punch to the face, knocking him onto his arse.

‘We are not taking it off.’ Looking up, Felix stared at Ryan, or rather, his other self.

‘You are not Ryan, are you?’ He questioned, sitting up while rubbing his cheek. ‘Ryan’ grunted, looking at the Swede in disdain, and slight curiosity.

‘You can call me Cry. That is what he calls me.’ Feliks quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing, pointing at the American.

‘Ok, Cry, you need to take off the mask. I can’t clean the wound, and I know you can’t let it get infected.’ Cry glared at the Swede, but knew he was right. Grabbing a nearby sheet, Cry held it close to his face, handing the mask to Feliks.

‘The wound, nothing else.’ He instructed, watching the Swede as he cleansed and bandaged the wound, pulling out little shards of porcelain. Throwing the bloodied bandages away, Feliks studied the mask, noting a file beside him. He filed the edges down to a smooth nub, cleaning the mask before handing it to Cry, who turned and replaced the mask.

‘T-t-thank y-you.’ Feliks opened his eyes, smiling at Ryan, who hesitantly smiled back, touching his now clean mask.