Only Dark- Epilogue

lostcybertronian:

I really enjoyed this series. I hope you did too! Thank you to everyone who helped and supported me along the way! Also, sorry this took so long omg.

Masterpost is here

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The sterile, chemical smell of the clinic was far too familiar now. And if he had eyes to open, the Host wouldn’t doubt that he would open them to see white ceiling, white walls, medical equipment, rows of beds. Beds that weren’t empty.

    Heartbeats hammered in his ears: some were weak and fluttery, others steady. He could hear his doctor’s heartbeat, stable and strong despite his frazzled, exhausted mind, could hear his voice as he spoke softly to his patients.

    He could hear everything: heartbeats and voices and the machines that monitored them.

    And, of course, he could hear the deafening silence of the only ego who didn’t need one.

    The Host tensed, tiny shoots of pain spreading along his jaw as he clenched it, but no words curled into his mind, threatening to steal away his autonomy or his life. No blackness festered at the edges of his mind.

    So he forced himself to relax, forced his fists to unclench, forced his fingers to spread out, smoothing over the cool, clean blankets instead of gripping them.

    Seemed the dark had been tamed for now.

    “There is only one ego who can be laid near Dark and still be considered safe.” The words slipped out of him, jagged and laced with pain and the drugs he’d been given to suppress that pain, just as he registered the solid, heavy presence in the bed immediately next to Dark’s.

    “Wilford Warfstache cannot breathe on his own. He is hooked up to many machines.” His narrations were a relief. A relief that he- that Dr. Iplier, that Wilford, that the others, that even Dark- was still alive. Alive, despite the dull ache of his chest as he breathed and his jaw as he spoke. “His hand dangles off the bed, inches away from Dark’s-”

    “Host.” Dr. Iplier sounded relieved, then alarmed as he came over, reaching to prod at the Host’s jaw with gentle, worried fingers. “Don’t speak. It’ll only aggravate your injuries.”

    After a moment his hands retreated, only to take one of the Host’s own and squeeze it tightly. “I was worried you weren’t going to make it.”

    The Host is okay, he wanted to say, the Host would never leave his doctor alone.

    But he remained silent, like Dr. Iplier had asked, and chose instead to focus on the doctor’s touch, to focus on the fact that there was now light in his mind in place of the red-blue dark.