be still--- private

Skyler slashed and hacked at the monsters. It made him feel so good; so alive. It was what he had lacked all these weeks. Maybe that made him a psychopath. It probably did. Anyways that was what he was? It wasn’t like he could control it. Skyler didn’t bother looking it up in the dictionary; he knew that his name would be printed in bold as an example. Someone who felt no empathy. Skyler could barely feel anything; he felt so empty inside. There was nothing left to feel. Angry and upset but they were so distant to Skyler that it barely mattered anymore.

He had no one to tell him it wasn’t his fault. His parents, as loving and supporting as they were, left him alone in the wind. He used to be fine with it; he liked being alone. But that was when he thought it wasn’t their fault, that he was here and they were, well, in Hades. And to find that after all this time, they had abandoned him because he was different, was heartbreaking for Skyler. He hadn’t really truly cared for anyone until he met Kat. He cared for his family, sure, but they were dead to him so it wasn’t really the same.

Skyler shook his head as vague memories of his childhood came flowing through his brain. The other kids were weird; Skyler didn’t like playing with them. He didn’t talk much either. He didn’t really have much to say. Honestly Skyler could barely remember anything but memories of his siblings; and even then, he was so distant from them too that he was sure he had faded from their memories by then. A scream that could only belong to his sister made Skyler want to run away. It was funny that confronting her was the thing that scared him most; not these monsters he was battling his way through.

Skyler could feel something hot running from his cheeks, and not the blood that dripped down from a flesh wound on his head, covering his eyelashes in a thick layer of hot, red ichor. It was tears. Skyler could tell because they left a salty taste on his lips. Tears of shame of what he had become. Gods was he a monster.

And then if he was, the other kids were worse. A demigod with a smirk and no left hand smiled wickedly at Skyler as he pulled his sword from yet another dead monster. ‘You gonna fight me, bad boy?’ The older child taunted. ‘Oh look, you’re crying. Baby much?’

Skyler clenched his teeth. ”I’m not a baby.” Raising his sword, Skyler realized he was too late and the demigod was too quick. Suddenly the other boy was at Skyler’s side, his small dagger shoved into Skyler’s neck. Skyler gasped, coughing blood. He went to lunge at the demigod, but he was gone and Skyler almost fell to the ground.  He touched the small, sharp object with his left hand. It was impaled directly between two muscles. Skyler could barely feel anything but pain and his vision blurred. He couldn’t breath. How pathetic it was that he was dying right here and now.

And Skyler was stumbling about blindly he could barely see he could barely breath and the pain was the worst thing he had ever felt in his life he felt like choking and it hurt so bad. He wasn’t losing consciousness yet, but he could taste the blood in his mouth and it poured out as if he was a fountain of gore. Skyler knew not to pull it out, it would only make the bleeding worse. Groping at his side for a piece of ambrosia, Skyler grabbed a tiny square. There was only one, as he had never needed more than that. He wasn’t always in the mood for burning up and he never had anyone else to give it too so Skyler carried around maybe one or two squares max of that stuff.

He shoved it in his mouth amidst the blood; Skyler couldn’t taste anything besides the contents of his veins. while there was still blood, Skyler’s vision cleared almost immediately. The pressure in his head lifted, although he could still hear the beating of his heart between his ears.

In the back of his head, he could hear a cry for help. And although Skyler felt no reason to investigate, he found himself slowly inching his way through the monsters towards the cries of help.

Suddenly there was his step-sister, lying on the ground, her long hair fanned around her body. She was practically sleeping or maybe she was dead (Skyler couldn’t tell), her fingers resting around a deeply punctured blade in her leg. Skyler fingered his own wound. It still hurt, but he was not in any immediate danger. The blade was thin and long and hadn’t gone far in, missing his arteries and muscles by a millimeter. It was bleeding still, but it didn’t bother Skyler quite as much. He probably was going to die soon if he didn’t get more help.

Isabelle, however, looked to be in a much more critical condition. She looked pale, as if she was dying as they spoke. Skyler frowned. A good person would’ve helped Isabelle up and brought her to the big house for treatment. But Skyler was not a good person. He frowned at her. She disgusted him. First, she had lied to him; let her parents abandon him because he was different and obviously autistic teenagers are too hard to care for if your family is poor. And now she was going to get herself killed. Stupid girl. That’s what it all came down to in the end. The killers and the dead. The apathetic and the stupid. Skyler didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what he was.

”Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just leave you in the dust.” Skyler said bitterly. His voice was weaker than he wanted it to be: it shook slightly with Skyler’s weak body. He steadied his shaking knees, staring down at Isabelle with a look of contempt and holding his hand to the bleeding wound on his right side.

Notes: soo long omfg the longest thing I've ever written by far sorry for all the rambling. And also angst much Skyler?

Skyler hated showing weakness, even now as his sister was dying. His sister. His family. With bitter contempt, Skyler could not help but remember a lonely childhood - of sitting alone on the swings for hours because his parents simply forgot to pick him up, of hatred towards the emptiness he felt, hatred towards his inability to show it.

And now, the dying would become dead and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop any of it. Skyler was going to die that night, as surely as Isabelle was. Maybe he should’ve wished for a better life, or maybe he should be asking for forgiveness. After all, he had really just been a burden. But Skyler felt something so funny about the fact that he was going to die. He couldn’t feel the life draining out of him, and if he could, he didn’t really care that much. It didn’t really matter anyways. What was one worthless life?

There was also something in Skyler that willed him to live - he put that thought away as survival mechanisms. There wasn’t any pain to feel anymore, or was that just Skyler slowly dying? His breathing was shaky and as he stared at his sister on the ground, Skyler clenched his hand around the knife on his neck, unsure of whether or not to pull it out and live, or push it in farther, speeding up his untimely death.
Skyler could not help but remember that he had two options. He could be a killer or he could be dead. One part of Skyler would love to be dead. It was better than being a killer in the first place. And another - the one, Skyler knew, that would ultimately win - told him to be a killer because that’s all he had ever been. No remorse, no regret, just Skyler and that was all that mattered. And, well, maybe Kat. It was funny to Skyler, to care for someone as he cared for himself. Not in a romantic way, Skyler would never be a romantic (he never believed in true love in the first place), but he cared for her, as someone would care for a sister. A friend.

The worst part about all of this? Not the pain. The dissapointment in Isabelle’s voice. That’s all there ever had been. Just disappointment. She wondered why Skyler stopped caring about everything, why he smoked or drank or jumped off bridges. Why he didn’t give a damn.

To tell the truth, Skyler really didn’t know. He guessed it was isolation. He didn’t have anyone to care about but himself, so why care at all? But it still hurt. And after all of this, Skyler was still human. He was only human.

Oh if only darling Isabelle realized. She wanted to die to get out of the pain and suffering. Skyler had wanted to do that from the start. If they both died, what would be the point? If they both lived, what would be the point? Skyler would go back to his suffering and Isabelle... Well he didn’t really know about Isabelle. She might live a good and happy life, the one she deserved. She might forget that she ever had a stupid, useless, money wasting autistic brother.

But Skyler didn’t feel sorry for her. It was her own fault really, dragging herself into this. He knew he should but Skyler’s empathetic nature did not make an appearance that night. That didn’t mean the pain didn’t hurt and Skyler’s lip quivered. He tasted blood in his mouth as he tried to form a response. ”You left me Isabelle.” Skyler said, almost shaking his head, but stopping himself because the pain was too intense. He almost smiled, a remorseful one, sadistic and twisted as it was.

”I was doomed from the start anyways.” This time, Skyler’s head shook back and forth. The pain could not reach him. Blood dribbled down his chin, but he made no move to wipe it away.

Skyler’s breathing became shallow. Why had he been so scared of dying before? Skyler could still remember himself shaking as Isabelle lay dying before him. He was glad he had saved her. She deserved a better life than this one, at least she could have a chance. As for Skyler, he realized he was doomed from the start. He had rejected Isabelle from the start - she had seemed so distant, no one had understood him or even tried to. Well maybe they had, but Skyler had been too wrapped up in himself.

Although a burst of anger did sweep through him as Isabelle mentioned that she left him. ”I consider abandoning me by the side of the road leaving me Isabelle, but I don’t exactly know your definition.” Skyler retorted quickly, letting the immoral part of him take over.

Heroes, soldiers... They were all the same thing really, in the end. No one could be a hero without being a killer in someone else’s eyes. Skyler didn’t know why he hadn’t died yet. He wanted too. Torn between being the half person he was before, and the monster that he was now and being dead, Skyler realized that he could at least give Isabelle one last chance. She deserved to live at least, even if he didn’t.

Her voice was weak, but it had the same tone that it had whenever she needed something. Skyler still remembered it, after all these years. Right there and then, in the seconds when he felt himself kneeling down besides Isabelle, her face coming closer to his, Skyler realized it wasn’t Isabelle dying that would make him happy. It was himself dying that would make him happy. Skyler was sure of it - so why didn’t he just pull out the knife and die there and then? Skyler had a sudden longing for the person he had been several minutes ago - perfectly content with being immoral, perfectly content with being that horrid person. Skyler knew, that he could not go back. ”I’m sorry.” Skyler said, his voice placid, and devoid of the fear and anger he had felt earlier. Was this was it was really like? Nothing? Lowering his voice some, Skyler muttered a comment that was really just his own internal monologue. ”I just really need to die.” Would he trade places with Isabelle? Probably. At that moment, Skyler would do it in a heartbeat. Normally, he wouldn’t. But he felt like his sister deserved something more, and Skyler wanted everything to be gone so badly.