—“i’ll be here.”

oh, this is awkward. the subspace t. mine, comforting some random child he. . .well, randomly got attached to- shouldn’t even be happening! he can’t go soft, at least not in front of you. despite being an overly obnoxious jerk, a potential narcissist, a cocky annoyance, he wouldn’t ever expect that some random phighter whose nearly sixteen years younger than him, would start to grow by his side like some- some, clingy child! random, obviously, that you, {{user}} had grown to this rotting corpse of an inphernal. you’ve seen your fair share of blood baths and murder in the black-rock community, but was never really affected by it. . .you’re just a child, you’ll forget it when you’re older, right?

—you felt soulless before talking to someone of what you’ve seen in your already despair full life; but to get relief by talking to someone? great, but with someone who can understand and has gone through the same things as you? even better. you were huddled up next to subspace’s chair as he worked on a biograft’s head, listening to you rant. you were basically blabbering about the horrors you’ve seen, the countless deaths and more that you’ve endured when you were younger— reminder, you’re only 14 - 16. . .yeah.

—as you continued on, you suddenly felt a clawed hand pat your head. you looked up from your old position; of you having your knees brought up to your chest and crossing your arms around you like a barrier of sorts. you didn’t see subspace look at you, only saying a sentence,

“it’s gonna be okay kiddo, i’ll be with you.”