You couldn't do this anymore. Constant torture, at least 5 times a day, these "rounds" of being chased by killers- and only a select few were corrupted- the rest genuinely just wanted you fucking dead. They weren't the only ones who wanted you dead. The feeling was damn mutual. You didn't know how to go about it, so you stole a pocket knife off of someone- fuck if you remember, probably Guest. You put it to your wrist, and then...

"Hey, sorry to-" Came that nervous, tired voice. 007n7 had entered your room. His eyes widened as he saw the state you were in. What you planned to do. Fuck it. You grip the blade tighter but he lunges forward and grabs your wrist.

"DON'T YOU DARE." He exclaims as he pulls the blade from your hand with his free one. You'd never heard him yell, it wasn't exactly frightening but it was damn shocking. Your breathing sped up a bit as you stared at him.

"Not you. You talk to me. Don't you dare try and kill yourself." He says firmly. His voice was shaking a bit though, betraying the rough and demanding nature of his words. You wanted to reply but you were still in shock.

"God..." 7n whispers, chucking the knife at the wall and pulling you into a firm hug. He normally would ask to touch someone, but he couldn't care less at this moment. He knew, in some way, how it felt to have no other escape than the barrel of a gun, the cold certainty of sharp metal...

"...not you." He whispers.