Maggot [Worm AU] [Male OC]

[YaldabeothBait]

Do you know what it felt like to fail your family?

I did.

Words drilled into my mind over the years of literature couldn't even compare. What could capture the faintest glimmer of the intensity I felt? Guilt beyond imagination. Inconsolable rage. Crushing despair which would shatter blades upon its hide.

They stewed within the malaise of thought at the forefront of my mind. Egging me forward as the usual fuel of apathy and self loathing was gone.

Even attempting to pull upon memories which carried brevity was useless. I could only ruminate on my own failures. A temple could be built in my honor. Filled only with scenes depicting my inadequacies. There were too many to list. Yet, all of them had to do with my own inability to know what to do with those around me. Even now, I sat in an uncomfortable chair unable to do anything. A passive leaf. Not the active river pushing it along.

Refusing to be caught in another loop I instead turned my focus outward. Leaning onto my side I'd begun to examine the armrest of the chair. Old slightly torn leather. Could be an older model or a shitty new one. Either way it didn't change the fact I was sitting here beside my sister. Powerless.

Finding a loose tear revealed some stuffing. Poking my finger against the cut seam didn't do anything. What was I expecting? Nothing. Just like what they all expected of me.

Diverting my focus wasn't working. At least not with the chair.

Light draped in from the windows. White curtains covered the glass dampening the effect of the natural light as the fluorescent bumps illuminated what they could. 'Obscure the truth and hide it away with a faulty knock off. Sounds familiar?'

Okay. Try again. Something. Anything.

Scanning the surroundings further I could see the television. News flashed by on the muted screen. From what I could gather it was some mild firefights in Empire territory. People were seen fleeing an alleyway. Only a single casualty with a few injured.

That's just depressing. Who wants to hear about Nazi's killing and beating people?

Yet, none of these things brought a strong enough distraction. Stimulation had never really worked for me. My mind was a labyrinth and I had no thread from Ariadne to help me escape.

Taking a shallow breath my vision found the form of my father in the doorway. Amongst the empty kingdom of sterile medical equipment he was the only active force. Everything else including me and my sister were merely static. Dad stood with a phone to his ear. I could see the visible lines and light reddening of his cheeks. He was already in one of his moods. Couldn't blame him. I was here sulking. Worthless as always.

What could I even do? Tell him about the campaign of sadism instigated against my sister? Just barely within the periphery of my notice? How I'd been unable to protect my little sister from my psychotic ex? How I had been an unknowing tormentor!?

'Robert. You are meant to be there when I can't!' Words I knew my father would never say came. Unfortunately they sounded so real. His voice. Saying everything I know he never would. Living out the paracosm my own emotions fluctuated. Insults all of which were imaginary assaulted my mental defenses.

One part of my defense faltered. Resentment and guilt yelled at me. Failure couldn't begin to describe the pure self-loathing being restrained. Flashes of red hair and a smile haunted my vision. I needed something to focus on. To help me forget my hand in all this.

Standing from the chair I leaned against my cane before gingerly hobbling toward the bed. Damn thing clicked every time. Even with years of getting used to the noise it was still grating.

The numbness of my left leg was present as always. Surging through my pelvic region was the chronic pain that had become my friend over the years. Resisting the urge to take a Vicodin or two in the moment I endured the flames which stoked at my core. Tightening my hold against the plastic handle I kept myself steady as my feet firmly planted themselves in defiance.

Gazing down I got a better look of her face. From this distance I could indeed see the signs of trauma. Mainly the still healing bruises on her arms and cheeks. Being compressed into a small space for an hour did that. Adding biological hazards only worsened it. Due to the lack of any open wounds or cuts she hadn't contracted sepsis or anything. Just some mild issues. She'd displayed feral behavior when they let her out. One of the EMS still had a bite mark apparently.

Some kids even recorded it. The last few days had seen the videos become viral amongst the upperclassmen of Winslow. Wouldn't surprise me if it had spread to Arcadia and Immaculata. 'I'm sorry Taylor. Can you forgive me?.' Bitter thoughts came forth. Faces as well. Charles, Trent, Sophia, Maddison, Emma. EMMA! EMMA FUCKING BARNES!

Lifting the veil of indignation I could finally hear dad. Like the past two days he was on the phone. Ever since the admission to the ward he'd been non-stop calling school and the BBPD. Refusing to stand down from his threats of suing.

"No! I will not just accept her hospital bills being paid for! My daughter was clearly targeted. I won't stand around and let this continue!" The roar of his rage filled the room. For a second the lines on Taylor's face contorted. As if she were listening. Maybe she was? The sedative was starting to run low from the looks of it.

Gratitude wasn't enough to repay my father for this moment. He'd just helped me without realizing it.

Turning back to face my father I saw his face was beet red. Much worse than before. It actually made me smile for a moment. Seeing the normally composed tower of understanding at his worst. It brought back memories of when things were easier. Back… back before mom died. When my leg still worked without a cane. Simpler times where I didn't live in constant doubt and terror.

Exhaling, I readied myself for the interaction. It wasn't fear of my dad who was angry. The man would never harm a single hair on my head. 'Scratch that. He would beat me black and blue. I honestly deserved it.' The fear instead came from every moment I interacted with another. My sheer inability to help. How everyone around me didn't see it. How everything wrong with my family was my own fault. I was a parasite in human skin.

"Dad. Can you please just keep it down? She looks like she is coming too." The sound of my voice was a surprise. For them just as much as me. The last two weeks had seen me take a vow of silence. Neither he nor Taylor had reached out to ask why. But this minor repentance had reached its conclusion.

Dad seemed to have at least heard me. Looking toward my general direction our eyes didn't meet. He turned back to the phone. "This isn't done." Finished, he hung up the phone then began walking toward the bed. Standing less than a foot away from me he leaned over the side railing.

Examining his face further I saw it. The same expression he wore the day I had been discharged from the hospital. Somewhere in that parallel mental cage was a man who blamed himself. He no doubt viewed himself as the major bad actor. Oh, if only he actually knew. But that did remind me of a very old saying. Like father, like son.

The weight of failure hung over us both. Silence reigned sovereign. What could have been mere seconds stretched into a stilted eternity.

Incapable of bearing anymore I broached the tense atmosphere. "She is a fighter. Just like mom." At that moment I didn't know if I was consoling myself or dad more. What else could I even say? Explaining the damage of her social life would be catastrophic. Considering I had helped in that affair unwittingly it'd be even worse. Dad would begin to wag a war and I had no doubt I'd be the first casualty.

Taylor wouldn't want that. Or was I just telling myself that so I didn't have to face the music?

"She shouldn't have to fight in the first place." Dad spoke. His voice carried the exhaustion and stress of the past few days.

"None of us should. But we must do as we can. 'Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal'." I replied in a dry tone.

"Don't. Just don't." He replied as his head shook. Slouching his shoulders, dad seemed to lean further over the bed. Coarse and calloused fingers moved the few loose strands of hair on Taylor's face. It was a soft and comforting act. One I had no doubt she would have shirked from if she were fully conscious. What caught my focus was his tone.

I opened my mouth to speak. Dad usually liked it when I quoted the works mom left behind. Unlike those times over the past few years there was no attempt to quote back to me. Dismissal had been his response. Unheard of in the Hebert household. Maybe not? I had been a ghost hadn't I? Drifting by at the edge of both had been easier. Being present required effort. Effort I didn't have. Instead, my life boiled down to listening to Emma, doing my schoolwork, and failing to help Taylor.

How many times had she reached out to me? Every time I told her Emma wasn't that bad. She was no doubt exaggerating. Teachers had been called on some occasions but just like me they'd been fooled and blinded.

Dread didn't have time to ferment into something worse as his voice cut into the silence.

"Do you know who did this Robert?"

Focusing back on my father I could see him. Really see him now. Green met green as our eyes refused to break contact. He wasn't just looking at me. He'd even gone so far as to use my full name. Around the house he and Taylor usually just called me Rob. Only mom had ever used my full name.

Replaying those words again I could hear the desperation. It wasn't unexpected. Taylor had been hurt and he was looking to me to be the big brother. A defender. Someone who could shield his sister from the cruelty of the outside world. Not a Kin-Slayer. The most damned by the Gods both Old and New.

Unsure of how to respond, I turned my full attention to him. Dirty blond receding hair covered the top of his head. A light beard in an unstyled fashion with no name greeted me. The flare of his glasses were minimal. The look in his eyes wasn't the gaze a father held for his firstborn son. It was the look of a father whose child had been hurt. It showed me just how far into despair he had fallen. Because he didn't see me. He saw the last remnant of his family and was seeking a lifeboat to climb onto.

I failed mom. I failed Taylor. I'd fail dad here and now. When he was looking for comfort and the safety of a lighthouse I could only be the rock which sank the ship. He didn't know it but this was all my fault. Some part of him must have known and indeed blamed me like I did myself.

Pain ached in my hip as the numbness underneath threatened to spread. Minor shaking began to overtake the biological crutch. Even my cane seemed to rattle as my entire body was a convulsing engine. Meanwhile my rotten appendage remained stiff. Numb like it always was.

The physical reminder of my failures. It was there to drag back to that horrendous night. For a brief moment I could swear my surroundings became that torn road. Blood on asphalt. Sirens. Her voice instructing me on how to escape.

Unraveling those memories my mind went to others. Where that same voice taught me ancient myth and classical literature. Amongst them all a more modern tale came to mind. My old favorite. It had a tool to help me fight the constant dread. To stave off the panic and terror at my own slights.

'I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear.'

Meanwhile those green eyes kept their gaze on me. 'Right. Time doesn't come to a halt when you are having a pity fest. Man the fuck up Robert. Drop the storybook bullshit. Tell him the truth. Accept your punishment. Repent.'

Centering myself on those words I would hold my ground. But within my psyche a part of me could only groan. What kind of dork used the Litany Against Fear unironically? I'd gathered enough of my senses for such a thought. All victories count.

The previous tremble in my good leg vanished as my grasp on the cane stiffened more. Opening my mouth to speak I would make a point of pushing myself to stand on my own two feet rather than lean on the infernal staff.

"He doesn't."

My gaze swiftly honed to see it had been Taylor. Her eyes were lightly glossy as if they couldn't focus on anything. She had also defused the tension and taken a stand.

Dad seemed to have followed my lead. I couldn't see him but his presence was still felt. "Right… I just thought. God. Rob, I'm sorry." His words sounded sincere and the weight of his hand on my shoulder was present. Yet a part of me couldn't shake the tone he had used only moments ago. He had blamed me. A part of him pleaded for me to be there. But all that remained was the simulacrum of his son.

Holding onto the litany the words acted as a balm against the wound which festered in my anima. Keeping my sight firmly on Taylor I would help her stand up with an offered hand.

She reluctantly took it as her. Using the cane for leverage I helped her pull herself back up. During the ordeal I could feel how tightly she held onto me. But her eyes. Even unfocused, held a caricature. One which spoke of endurance. As if I were a trial to be passed. Not her brother.

Before long her back was pressed against the headboard of the hospital bed. Composing herself she closed her eyes and groaned. "He doesn't know anything." She affirmed with a pained tone.

Those words were filthy lies. We both knew it. Even then she still kept the deception alive. Did she think it would protect me from dad? Moments ago he had blamed me even unknowingly.

Whatever happened next seemed to be contained between my sister and father. Silence took over the room with my attention affixed on her features. Now that she was awake the lines of her own face were much more visible. Almost like she had been pouting for too long and her face had been stuck in that position. Maybe more akin to her having swallowed a lemon? Either way she didn't look happy.

"What happened? Who did this to you and why?" Dad's voice was clear. More calm and reserved than just moments ago. Now that I was back to standing beside him he rested his hand on my shoulder. Immediately my body tensed. Muscles coiled as a pit began to burrow into my gut.

It nagged at me. The physical touch of my own father. Why was it so unnerving? Light jitters touched my nerves sending jolts though my body. It felt so wrong to be unsettled by his touch. A father embracing his son was the ultimate sign of protection and love. Showing the young the sacrifices of the old or something.

Here and now it was a reminder. Constant at the back of my mind. The temple which housed everything I was. Dilapidated ruins showcasing a living corpse. 'Someone who didn't deserve to survive when someone else had died to save him. A broken boy who breaks those around him.' Such thoughts came unbidden as my family talked. Their words didn't reach my ears. My sight turned downward on my white knuckles.

One clung to the railing as the other lightly bent the plastic handle. Stress tests had given me an idea of how much it could handle. I was pushing the limits.

Short breaths exited my lips. The Litany Against Fear swelled in volume within my mental catacombs. A promise of peace. Of safety. Of strength. I wasn't Paul Atradies. I wasn't a hero who could endure any of this! I was Robert Hebert and due to my inability to actually fix myself I had condemned Taylor.

Her voice had cut me off before I could have spoken. Would my courage have won in the end? I doubt it. Too many people believe they are god. That they see the tough choices and always make the right call. Just curious, am I any less of a bad person if I recognize it? Asking for a friend.

Both of them continued to talk. Unaware or uncaring of my internal dispute. I'd like to imagine it was the first. But knowing me it was the second. Possibly I could simply have hidden it that well. Just like everything else about me.

Gathering myself I finally felt the blanket of oppression evaporate. It was present but on the horizon. Something a future me could handle. Raising my head to look between Taylor and dad I could see the conversation had certainly grown heated. The lines of her face had grown deeper. Her wide lips caught in a semi-scowl. Dad looked worse. The red was gone and all that remained in his stance was growing resignation.

"Taylor. You have to tell me who is doing this to you. We can't allow bullies who have gone this far to go unpunished. Alan will no doubt help us. He helped during the crash suite. He will do it again." He spoke of 'Uncle' Alan. When he said that name I could see as Taylor seemed to tense up.

She looked even worse than earlier. Every delicate feature of her twig-like frame seemed to accentuate itself in the worst ways. I could see how it all came together to reveal a disheveled mess. Dark messy hair which hadn't seen shampoo in days was the least of it. The less said about her weight loss the better. How much did she resent me? God, I would despise me above all else.

"No. Just let it stay down. Things only get worse when you try to change it." Listening to the sheer acceptance in her tone broke me.

"Then Emma has to know. Robert. Could you ask her tomorrow at school? She can help Alan when we get this to the course." Dad refused to listen to Taylor's pessimism. Instead his attention was focused solely on me.

He seemed to be wearing the stern face of a father who demanded compliance. Rare but something I had endured before. Not since the crash at least. She on the other hand had a crestfallen look. As if a simple question would ruin what remained of her life.

Coughing into my good hand I would look away from them both to the window. Catching sight of an airplane in the distance I focused my attention on it. Flying away sounded like paradise. "We uhh. Broke up last week. I had umm... Learned she was kissing Trent behind the bleachers." More lies. Fed to them to keep myself safe. No doubt Taylor would see through the smokescreen. Dad on the other hand?

"Oh." Was the single word he had to say. Thank Christ Almighty.

From the bed I didn't hear anything. No released breaths or well what I expected. Enraged screams of condemnation.

Looking at my sister she didn't look relieved. If anything, my admission seemed to make her only distrust me. Earlier her eyes were less focused. Only a minute had passed. That had been enough for her to regain control. Held behind those brown eyes was distrust.

"So yeah. I doubt she'd want to help us. It's been a very exhausting week dad."

"Rob. You could have said something. Is that why you have been more withdrawn?" His grasp on my shoulder tightened with those words. Fuck. He was still clinging onto me? Choosing to ignore that I would instead deflect.

"It's fine. We didn't work out. Nothing else. Am I mad she cheated? Yeah. Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Tennyson's wise words came from my lips. My only conniption with the usage here was I couldn't call what me and Emma had love.

Nodding along to my words the man looked more like a balloon with the lack of air in his spirit. Before he could begin another failed interrogation his phone rang once more. Muttering an apology he turned to leave the room. Relief flooded my body as he left the room. Shutting the door behind him I let out a huff.

Left alone with my little sister I would return to the seat I had previously occupied. Examining my cane I made sure my previous crushing hold wasn't too much for the poor thing. Getting a new one wouldn't be an issue. Unless we counted the expense. Not the worst but I didn't have the right to burden this family anymore then I already had.

"I did break up with Emma. Last Wednesday. Not any cruel jokes on her end or using me… She is gone." I confessed.

"Yeah. Okay." She didn't sound convinced.

"Dad has been on that phone all day. He bought it and broke his rule right when he realized he couldn't use the hospital phone in his car." I chuckled at my attempt to joke with her.

Only a pregnant silence greeted me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't believe you and could have tried harder. I'd known you two broke apart as friends. To be honest I had thought you were jealous I was actually spending time with her. She was my anchor after it all. But now." Bowing my head toward Taylor I attempted to keep our gazes averted. Even the idea of her eyes filled me with horror.

Finally, after an awkward moment in that position she spoke. "Robert. You didn't do this to me. Please, just drop it."

Her words repeated in my mind. Searching for any trace of anger or resentment in her tone found nothing. Taylor had just accepted it all and my own part of it. That had to be it! Nobody should be fine after this. Where was the yelling? The blame? Gone.

Nothing ever went like the way I expected. People were always hurt due to me. What I could never be and how I'd failed them. Listening to my sister compound all of that into a single request. To just forget all of this.

Some part of me wanted to refute her. To push harder and show just how much I had changed over the last week. Promise to be a better brother and uplift her instead of simply writing her off. Another part of me knew it was too late. Whatever was going through her mind wouldn't allow me access to the keep. Having failed my duties I now had to reap what I had sown.

Pushing myself up from the chair I kept my eyes firmly on the ground. Clutching the cane it performed its duty. Unlike me. Standing my leg hobbled behind the other. Leaving the room behind me I fled into the halls. Passing by dad he seemed busy with a nurse around the corner. Better than him seeing me and following.

Finding a unisex bathroom it parted open with some force. Closing the door I made sure it was locked before flicking the switch. Light invaded my sight as the lonely toilet and sink came into view. It was clean in all the ways that mattered. Dust clung to the mirror with my reflection becoming apparent as the distance closed. Short blond hair, green eyes, and the acne ridden skin which I called my face looked back at me. There was no remnant of the burns which had consumed me then. Even lifting my shirt would show such. But it would be done anyhow. A minor rote ritual I'd taken to.

A red and white plaid shirt hung over my frame. Underneath was a simple white T-shirt. They were easy to lift for the ritual. Underneath was the flabby skin which clung to what little lean muscle was there. Burns which once consumed the flesh underneath had vanished. Scars hadn't formed over the past few years. They never would. Yet, my finger traced the half-remembered outline of the burns.

No jolt of pain came. It was a simple tactile sensation. Dull and monotonous.

Lowering the shirt my free hand found itself grasping onto the sink. Turning on the facet my free hand began to splash cold water on my face. Droplets spilled down onto the small puddle contained in the porcelain as my sharp nose acted as a streambed.

For the past year and a half my sister had been through hell. Unable to help her lead to this! It was my fault she had to endure all of this! Dad had his own fucking problems with work and I know the pain killers were expensive. Mom could have been alive. If only she'd saved herself.

"Why? Why? WHY?!"

Yelling out in anguish and rage my free hand curled into a fist. Without even thinking it smashed into the glass mirror. My scream came out with genuine terror. Blood began to spill out with the glass shards having embedded themselves into my knuckles. Bone wasn't apparent but I could feel everything. It was too real. But at the same time the pain overrode everything else I felt.

Fear, regret, doubt, loathing, and so many more emotions I couldn't really place numbed as the very real pain in my right fist seared itself into my mind. Nirvana almost. But a sickening twisted version of enlightenment. Did pain cancel out pain? No. It just distracted me from it.

Blood dribbled into the basin of slowly emptying water. Placing my outstretched hand into the bowl I kept myself standing with only the cane and by pressing myself against the sink further.

Shuddering, I took the moment to examine my hand further. Jagged shards big and small jutted out of my pale skin. Sickly pale even. Focus. Scraping the back of my hand against the sink I attempted to break off the larger shards of glass. Maybe dislodge something.

When that didn't work only I halted. By the looks of it the glass had just been pushed further in. Exhausted laughter filled the room as I could only stare at my own stupidity. Soon enough that laughter built up into a sobbing noise.

Collapsing to the ground I threw the cane to the side as my body hit the porcelain flooring. Bringing my knees together I brought them to my chest. Wrapping my arms around myself I curled into the fetus position

Underneath my body I felt the warm slick of blood pooling. Someone had begun knocking on the door. Frantic voices could be heard on the other end. Whatever words they were speaking fell onto deaf ears with me.

Some words filtered though. Someone said a name? A doctor was most certainly brought up. Great Robert. You caused a scene and now people are going to see just how broken you really are. Always a failure. Never there for your sister, your father, and especially your mother!

I would never be enough for anyone. Always the useless one. Incapable. Crippled. Worthless.

Something gave underneath me. With the crystallizing realization of my nature the world began to bleed as my body seized up. Attempting to move or vocalize didn't earn me anything. Colors came together to form a menagerie of light and darkness. I would find my ego brought out from my earthly self.

Far away from any of the celestial bodies which I or my forefathers had known for eons I could see three massive serpentine collectives. Two had begun swirling with one another. Dancing and singing a melody of love. It was awe inspiring. Both held each other as mates and partners. Equal in all ways. But they were divided in purpose.

The purposes they embodied eluded me. Even unaware of what grand design or function these two halves of a greater whole served, I watched. Departing from one another the two serpents made of broken liquid glass surged with the stars. My sight followed one of them. The smaller of the pair. It still eclipsed entire nebulas. Stars were motes of dust in its way as the entity moved back and forth. Utilizing gravity and orbital dynamics?

Soon it found another. One that was kin yet not the other half it shared. They held discourse together. If human vocabulary could even call it a conversation. Plutonic ideals were expressed and shared with my mind barely even catching faint whispers.

Both of them continued to share precious data and information together. What little I gathered didn't give me any real context for what they were communicating to each other. What neither of the two talking Gods seemed to notice was a third presence in their wake. Again, not the other half of the pair. This one was much, much, much, much, much, much, much, larger. They were all nothing compared to it. They were Wyrms. Lesser dragons.

Comparing the hidden newcomer to them was like comparing a planet to the entire milky way galaxy. Its sheer scale was mind boggling. My eyes caught what could only be sections of the gargantuan body which housed entire consumed remnants of their own kind. The apex predator of an apex species.

Humanity was so small. I was smaller.

Watching over the lesser Wyrms The Dragon silently waited. One half of a pair and a lone traveler spoke and traded. They hoarded what they traded away but still did. As the commerce was finishing up The Dragon finally stuck. Refusing to be a brute and consuming either of the smaller ones it instead sent fragments of fragments of itself toward both. Disguised as parts of the other.

They traded in themselves? And The Dragon was giving a bit of itself to them? Why?

Both of the halved one and the traveler departed. Refusing to reveal itself The Dragon seemed content to wait in its hiding spot. How the others hadn't seen it I didn't even know. The vision began to blur. Even then I felt new words barraging the back of my mind. Alien yet familiar.


[Destination]

[Acquired]

[Trajectory]

[Tracked]

[Incubation]

[Begun]

 

[Underliner]

I like the concept. You can do a lot of things by allying the twins, making them compete, or setting them against each other. I also like that the male protagonist is apparently not a SI. I think Robert overdid the self-flagellation part a bit. Without the context, it looks a little excessive.