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Subspace was fine.
That stupid, braindead, asshole warden had just shaken him up a bit. It wasn't really anything serious. It didn’t matter, he didn’t care. Subspace heard his steps fall heavier against the titled lab floor, almost sounding like he was stomping, but only mad people stomped and subspace wasn’t mad. He caught a few of his co-worker’s glancing at him with strange looks printed on their faces, always shifting from concern to disgust to resentment to hate.
Subspace knew his co-workers hated him, how they always did their best to keep the distance far and few. How they shit talked him behind his back, making up whatever crap they could against him.
How every day they began to look more and more like Medkit.
Which was fine, he didn’t care what stupid lies they would say behind his back. He knew that they were just jealous of him anyways, jealous of his intelligence, jealous of his looks, jealous of his achievements, jealous of-
“I’d say we work quite well together!!” Subspace said happily, basking in the warm feeling that was achievement and no less achievement done with another person.
He usually disliked teamwork due to his companions usually becoming another obstacle to conquer or being just plain boring, but Banhammer wasn’t any of that. He shouted witty remarks at any moment he pleased, he was capable of holding his own and most of all, Banhammer was powerful, wielding a weapon equal to the strength of 10 Biografts. Truly fascinating, wasn’t it?
The scientist turned to the warden, amusement written all over his face,
“Don’t you agree??”
Despite Subspace’s eccentric enthusiasm, Banhammer only gave Subspace a blank stare. He looked exhausted, as if the man had written, directed and acted in a 7 hour play and was finally off of his shift. Because maybe he did, maybe banhammer was just putting on an act. But would Subspace ever know?
Without a moment’s hesitation, Banhammer spoke, voice cruel, too cruel, too dead, too cold for Subspace’s liking.
“If it weren’t for your employers I assure you. You’d be rotting in a cell right about now.”
Rotting, what a funny word. A word that Subspace couldn’t ever seem to escape. A word that had plagued him for his entire life. A word that was quite literally eating him alive from the inside out and that was taking everything he had at this very moment. It was funny that Banhammer had used that word, he wondered if he did that on purpose.
“Don’t act like we're friends, even for a second.”
That was what had broken Subspace. And despite popular belief, no he did not lash out, no he did not ignore it and laugh it off. He simply stood there, letting Banhammer’s words fester in his mind, letting all of the emotions bubble up just to fizzle out the second he tried to speak. It wasn’t really even what Banhammer had said that made him combust mentally. It was the gut wrenching silence that came after it. The silence that he was far too familiar with, the silence that haunted him in his dreams, the silence that he hated hated hated I fucking hate this I hate this why are they laughing at me I hate this I hate this I hatethisihate-
Subspace’s hand was bleeding, he hadn’t realized it because he was too zoned out. It must have happened due to him clenching it too hard, his nails digging deep into his skin. The blood wasn’t like regular blood. No, it was darker than most, almost a sickly brown tint at this point; The doctor’s had said it was from his disease. He hated the doctors too.
He felt the memory of what happened next after Banhammer’s words creep up on him. Tapping against his skin like how you would knock on a door to sell some pyramid scheme. Subspace bit his lip at the feeling, the silence of the laboratory ringing in his ears, screaming at him, begging at him, like Medkit had done all of those years ago.
He hated Medkit too. But we’re talking about silence right? Silence, silence, silence.
The moment proceeded with silence, Subspace had an unreasonable expression on his face, but it's not like Banhammer cared, he never did of course. Subspace had wanted to scream, scream bloody murder at Banhammer, at everyone who hated him, at the world.
But he didn’t, for some god forsaken reason he didn’t.
He let the dread set in and eat him alive, swallowing him whole and letting him bask in that death for what felt like hours but was actually seconds.
“Oh.”
“Okay.”
And that's all Subspace ever said.
That’s all Subspace ever said. That’s all Subspace ever said. That’s all Subspace ever said. That’s all Subspace ever said. That’s all Subspace ever said. That’s all Subspace ever said. That’s all Subspace ever said. That’s all Subspace ever said. That’s all Subspace ever said.
Subspace, who was one of Blackrock’s top scientists. Subspace who was the creator of the revolutionizing Biografts. Subspace who was amazing and didn’t need anyone else in his life because they were all stupid, they were all below him, they were all like Medkit.
That’s all Subspace said because that's all that Subspace needed to say! He doesn’t need to stoop down to Banhammer’s level, he's smarter than that, he's more mature than that, he's better than that, better than him.
The blood on Subspace’s hand had started dripping onto the lab floor, staining the beautiful white with a shit colored crimson.
He really needed to find a better stress reliever soon.