Rebuild and Rehab - Mentality

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Splortch. Shit.

The second Isaac felt his feet sinking into that familiar goo, he realized that he'd fucked up. The question of "where are the rest of my spirits" was quite present on the boy's mind, and judging by the piercing draconic shriek he figured that he had found the answer. It was a little bit of relief from his lingering curiosity, followed by two heaping spoonfuls of regret. He didn't even want to open his eyes and look at the ruined hellscape that he knew he would currently be standing in.

"I take it back," he muttered, clenching his fists and squeezing his eyes shut even harder. "When I said anywhere, I meant anywhere but here."

Unfortunately, the morass was quite thick, even before considering how tired Isaac was from running in a blind panic through his mind. Running alone wouldn't get him out of here, would it? If he was going to survive the ravages of his own mind, he'd need to think hard and think fast.

Right. Thinking! If it could summon a tennis court, maybe it could summon the way out of his problems. Isaac found himself concentrating very hard on the idea of a door. A door that went literally anywhere but here, to be specific. Would that be too complex, or was his brain capable of pulling it off? Heck, could he even influence his brain from the inside? Whatever the case, all Isaac could do was focus, sticking his hand out as if expecting a doorknob to be there at any moment.

Of course his mind wouldn't help here. Why did Isaac ever expect otherwise? He retracted his hand as soon as Devidramon's corrupted voice slithered closer to him. He didn't want to even risk setting a hand on that thing. Unfortunately, that didn't change that Isaac had walked directly into its parlor. If he wanted to escape now, he'd have to outrun his fastest, strongest form. A fastest, strongest form that had no qualms with impaling an innocent human through the chest. Meanwhile, Isaac was in his absolute lowest state. Impmon may have been tricksy, but Isaac was fairly certain that even in human form he outmuscled the Rookie. Engaging now would be an awful idea.

He couldn't fight. He couldn't run. And he sure as hell didn't want to talk to it. However, in his paralysis of what to do, he had let it approach. Immediately Isaac backed up as he felt his spirit stroke his face, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"After what you've done? Never," Isaac said. "I was close with Devidramon. But you're just some monster wearing his skin. Save your breath, because there's no way in hell I'm even going to listen to a word you've got to say"

Nevertheless, Isaac knew that he couldn't turn his back on his worries forever. Slowly but surely he started to open his eyes, his scowl deepening as he started sneaking a peek of what Devidramon wanted to show him.

Everything was red right now. The horizons of Isaac's mind were nothing but the red oceans of goo associated with the D-Reaper. Devidramon himself was red, fully immersed in the D-Reaper's corruption. The goo that dropped from his claws, looking disconcertingly like blood, was also red.

And Isaac, himself, was seeing red. There was no debating the reality of the situation anymore. He had hurt Mitsuko badly, and now the proof was sitting right in front of him. The D-Reaper clung possessively to her, the poor girl embedded in its gooey body. It seemed pleased by Isaac's rage, the corners of its featureless face turning up as if grinning. Frankly, it left Isaac sickened.

He didn't even know what came over him. One second Isaac was still. The next he had already sprung forward, winding back a fist to smash the D-Reaper across the face. "The start?" Isaac said, voice cracking a little from the rage bubbling beneath it. "You're not ever, ever going to lay a goddamn finger on anyone else, you hear? You're never coming out of here again!

And don't you dare even think about using her as a weapon against me."

Isaac talked a big game, but frankly his voice couldn't stop trembling. The poor boy was terrified, and everything from his stance to his voice showed it. Just what was he trying to prove here?

Isaac couldn't get his eyes off of his arm. The second he felt the rock-hard impact of the Devidramon's jaw he knew he had fucked up, and it didn't take long for D-Reaper ooze to start slipping up his arm. Already he could feel it starting to harden, but that didn't stop him from trying to desperately tug his arm away. He even made sure to plant his feet in the ground, knowing damn well that the second the D-Reaper lifted his head he'd be airborne.

It was funny. This was the exact same situation that lead to him getting into this mess. He lashed out, trying to right an injustice, and now he was just making things worse. At least this time, though, it was worse for himself instead of worse for other people. Maybe that was an improvement. Frankly, Isaac was starting to feel like he deserved it.

Like hell the D-Reaper was going to say that, though. Isaac practically glared a hole into Devidramon as it scratched his chin, blushing furiously from the indignation. "We're nothing alike," he snarled. "But you know what? You're right. I did start it. And if you think I regret that, you've got another thing coming. Because if I didn't step in, who knows what Alicia would've done?

What I regret is even giving you the time of day for a goddamn second. I don't care how much you're tangled up in my brain. I'm not feeding you. I'm not listening to you. And I'm gonna be damned if I ever let you break me. It's gonna be a cold day in hell before I ever give into you."

Even as he said this, though, Isaac kept stealing nervous glances at Mitsuko. There was resolve in his voice, but every time he eyed her it quivered. He did the best he could . . . but was his best even close to enough?

Isaac clawed furiously at the red goo as it continued crawling up his body, like a man desperately trying to pull himself out of quicksand. Unfortunately, much like quicksand, this was only making it worse. His fingers slipped through like a sieve as his actual body continued to be entombed, which only made Isaac's grasping all the more frantic. Even as panic set in his voice, however, he continued to sputter defiantly. "I'll never need you," he hissed, even as his voice trembled. "You're nothing to me. You hear that? Nothing!" His protests only got louder and more desperate as red goo dripped on him, drop by drop. It slowly started to run over his eyes, leaving him blinded. It slowly started to congeal over his mouth, leaving him helpless to do anything but furiously sputter at the D-Reaper.

And then, all was dark.

Isaac's eyes shot open, the Impmon screaming a primal cry as he awoke. In his fury he had practically kicked the sheets off of the bed, then immediately started clawing at himself. He needed to get it off. He needed to get it all off. Only when he found his hands running over skin instead of slime did he finally start to calm down, eyes wide with panic and breaths painfully rapid. His chest was practically rising and falling from the desperate pulsing of his core. Most alarming, however, were the physical changes. His eyes were once again the piercing violet pink from when he had first awoken, and red drops seemed to be running down his body like sweat. If Isaac hadn't already puked his guts out, he would have probably scrambled off of the bed to do so.

Instead, he looked around, waiting to see who was watching. Mikemon? Iko? The void?

Twelve hours? Frankly, that was twelve more than Isaac had expected. Since being stuck in the Reaper's clutches, everything went by in a horrifying red blur. His chest's heaving started to slow as Isaac moved his hands away from his chest, clutching the bedsheets tightly as he tried to calm down. "Okay," he said, voice half-doubled over into a yawn from his grogginess. With Impmon's voice already kind of high pitched, it almost sounded like a hiccup. "Okay. I'm good. I'm alive. I'm here. Just me. I can do this." He grit his teeth tightly, gripping the sheets so hard that they twisted. Then he closed his eyes, sighing deeply before letting go. Was he feeling better? A little. Did he find his center? Not even close. But hey, it was something, right?

He took the hand towel, wiping off the red sweat that seemed to be coming up from his body. There was a slight sizzling sound, and when Isaac held the towel up he noticed tiny holes with red edges now dotted the poor thing. It seemed that wasn't sweat Isaac had been producing. Was he losing control in his sleep? Isaac cringed, flinging the towel away from himself gently, then took the water instead. Wordlessly, almost breathlessly, he turned it up to start guzzling it down. The drink seemed to disappear in seconds, making it clear just how parched the poor boy was. This he set down far more gently, letting out a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I needed that," he said.

He also needed to talk. But he really, really didn't want to. Instead, he turned to Iko, worry shining in his eyes. "Do you think I can see Alicia soon?" he asked, somewhat nervous. "I . . . I need to clear some stuff up with her, I think. And something tells me she understands what I've been going through.

'Cause you're right. I didn't have a good sleep, and the D-Reaper's only half of why."

Isaac huffed a little in embarrassment upon seeing the towel reduced to little more than clothy swiss cheese. "I didn't mean to," he said, as if that changed anything. "Can't tell if that's the Reaper, the pills, or both doing that to me. But, hell, it's got me sure as hell that I never want a close call like that ever again . . ." And yet, Isaac still had both pills burning a hole in his bandanna, didn't he? He knew that, while he'd be far more careful with his usage of them, sooner or later he'd have to throw himself back into the thick of things again. It was in his nature, and it just didn't sit well with him to be on the sidelines while trouble was going on.

Maybe he was wrong, all those times he insisted he wasn't a hero.

Isaac looked at the time, then shuddered. "Sheesh, can't even tell if I woke up too late or too early," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes groggily to try and figure it out. "That mean I was out like a light this afternoon? I know I'm a heavy sleeper, but . . ." The poor former-boy, now-imp just seemed so puzzled by the circumstances. Maybe it was a weird thing to get hung up on, but it was a little island of normalcy in all of the pressure that he had been put through. Was it any wonder that Isaac clung to it?

He eyed the door nervously, as if hoping Alicia would just come walking in. "Did you check on them?" he asked, nervously thumbing the back of his left glove with his right hand. ". . . Wait. You weren't here all night, were you?"