A Guide To Medicine and War

Ten

"Fuck you, Tommy!" Purpled whispers, pushing him back. He's healed, though blood still stains his uniform, and some tests below his eye where he must have wiped a hand. His purple hood is torn slightly, and he looks angry.

Not the angriest he's ever been, but his anger has never been directed at Tommy.

"What did I do? Why are you—what's going on?"

"What did you do?! What do you mean what did you do? What didn't you do?! Prime, Tommy, why do you have to fuck things up?"

"What—Purpled, what's going on?"

"Tommy, you went back out!"

"To save you! You needed that health pot!"

"I was fine!" Purpled yells, and apparently they're yelling now.

"No you weren't! You got shot!"

"You left me!"

"To he—"

"And I couldn't protect you!"

The both of them are silent, standing up and facing each other. Purpled looks up at Tommy, purple eyes shimmering with tears.

"Tommy, I couldn't-what if you got hurt? And I wasn't there? Because that happened once and I don't want it to happen again, it can't happen again, okay? You can't leave me, Tommy, it's my job to protect you."

"Why?"

Purpled collapses onto the cot, looking away from Tommy, meaning he's going to do something with emotions.

"Tommy, I-we protect each other, okay? We stick with each other because you're you and I'm me and nothing is right when we're apart. So-we gotta stick together, please?"

And Tommy realizes that Purpled isn't mad, he isn't angry. Purpled is terrified , and Purpled is never terrified, he is only ever scared. He is not consumed by his fears like Tommy is, and he has always been the one to stand strong in a fight. In Pogtopia, when the days were filled with pain and anger (and they were only ten), Purpled was the one who kept his head up, kept fighting back to get to Tommy. And when roles were reversed, when Tommy was the one running off of his rage, Purpled was never afraid, not like him.

Where Tommy works in spite of his fear, Purpled works with it.

But he's not, not right now.

Tommy can see it in his eyes, the way the fear is consuming him, the way he looks around, begging for an escape. He put himself out there, and he doesn't do that often.

Vulnerable Purpled is breakable Purpled, and his entire life he's been told not to break, not to be breakable, so how can he be vulnerable?

He can't, not without struggling and panic attacks and the need for clear words and an escape route.

Tommy sits down, hands under his legs, in the corner away from the exit, getting ready to talk. "Purpled, we will stick together. I'm sorry for leaving you here, I promise I won't do it again unless I really need to, okay?"

Purpled nods, breath shaky.

"I did what I felt was necessary, and I should have taken a step back and assessed the situation better. I will next time something happens, alright?"

He receives a nod in answer, and they sit like that, Purpled shaking on the cot and Tommy sitting on the ground, for a few hours while the fighting dies down for the night. Eventually, as the owls begin to hoot, Purpled looks at Tommy with bleary eyes, begging for something. Tommy gives him time, because he needs to say what he wants, needs to be sure of it.