A/N: Another attempt at writing Cry and others. I'm still not quite used to writing them, so if they're acting OOC (out of character) then I'm sorry. I'm still learning and pretty rusty in terms of writing fics and stuff.
Rating: PG 13+(Better safe than sorry)
Enjoy and let me know what you think of it.
The soft tapping of rapid finger movement on a keyboard sounded loud in the silence of the room full of equipment. It held several computer stations, a fridge, basic living utilities and a few cots scattered at one corner. But the most unusual piece of the room was the lone chair that sat by a wall of monitors; the chair itself resembled of one from a dentist's office and next to that was some hospital equipment. If nothing else, the room looked as if it belonged in a bunker or underground command center of some sci-fi movie. A group of people milled about that room as well, but kept silent as the typing continued to pound out a rhythm of irritation and suppressed fear, feelings the group knew all too well; yet didn't speak to the one at an active computer. They feared in saying the wrong thing would eventually shatter the person's fragile calm, if they could call his silent fuming a calm.
Except one that finally decided to brave a question.
"Are you sure about this?" Russ asked his friend, well aware that everyone else went still when the soft tapping stopped and a sigh hissed out the figure's teeth. "Look Cry, I understand the fact you want them gone but is - ?"
"No, you don't Russ." Cry growled softly in warning, cutting the question short. "You don't
"I'm tired of it!" he hissed, slamming a fist against the desk and causing his friends around him to jump at the sound. "I'm sick and tired of this shit happening to me. You do have any
idea of what it does to me?! To always be afraid to go to sleep? That the second I close my eyes to rest, I'll wake up again at some random little girl's house to see her and her parents filleted open like fish?!"
He looked at each of his friends, The Late Night Crew, in the eyes, and watched their faces take on faint shades of green at the description. Snake narrowed his eyes while grimacing; Scott flinched and looked faintly sick as he shook his head in hopes of ridding the image from his mind's eye. Red winced and looked away in disgust of the scene which earned the masked gamer a warning glare from Russ. Even though the man himself wanted to take bottle of bleach and scrub the image from his mind.
Cry sighed softly, rubbing his face under his mask. He shouldn't have done that, he knew but nerves and being tired made him more easily irritated. "I'm sorry, but I'm being serious. I see them... the victims' faces, hear their screams when I try to sleep... You know Mad loves tormenting me that way. His way of teasing me and showing me how helpless I am when he has control." he whispered faintly, "And that's true unless I do something about it."
"We understand that, Cry. We always have that fear of when and where Mad will take over and we can't help." Scott replied, rubbing his head, "But this idea of yours? Don't you know this is just what he wants?"
"What about Virus?" Snake asked, sitting on a counter top behind the group. His question more or less directed to Scott than to Cry.
"Oh, yeah him. Isn't this what they
want from you anyway?"
"Don't get me started on him..." the YouTuber groaned, causing the computer chair to creak as he leaned back against it, "That viral asshole is going to be the death of my YouTube career if he doesn't stop his bullshit. You guys know he's there, lurking and waiting for me to get online so he can mind fuck me more. I'm terrified to be at my own damn computer and that's a problem since you guys know I am not a social person." He let his arms drop to his sides, fingertips barely touching the floor as he slouched in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. "And that's if he not busy fucking around online, frying someone's computer. At those times I'm grateful and I shouldn't feel that way of seeing someone suffer because I screwed up Virus' programming!"
"Cry, you can't blame yourself on that anymore. Virus knows the truth now, he just doesn't want to forgive you and let it go." Red murmured, touching his shoulder then jerking her hand back as he growled.
"That's because it WAS my fault he feels this way, but even then I'm not allowing him to take me over either. Right now, we're both beyond forgiveness and I want my life back, even it means deleting him. This is the only way I've thought of to settle this."
"So offering your mind and body as a prize of a three way rumble is your solution this problem?" Russ asked incredulously, placing a hand on his head in agitation. This was completely wrong, why are they allowing their friend to do this to himself? There's a high chance that they could lose him in this fight. Why are they letting him?
"Yes..." Cry sighed, "I don't have anything else worth gambling that would interest them anyway."
Russ growled at the near sound of defeat coming from his friend's mouth before grabbing the chair Cry sat on and spun it quickly to get him to face him directly. The sudden action he took and the motion of the chair startled the masked gamer, making him jolt in surprise. "Goddamnit, Cry we could lose you to those two! You know they can double team you!"
"We're going to lose me anyway if I don't do this."
"So you called us all here to watch you die on this suicide mission?!"
I called you all here to watch over me. I called you here because I trust you all with my life. To cheer me on, give me motivation and a goal to come out on top of this." Cry growled in warning, leveling an equal glare to Russ' disapproving scowl. "But if you don't like it or want to, then you can all go and I'll do this alone."
Both friends stared at each other, neither one looked away from the other. Even from behind the poker faced mask, Russ knew Cry's eyes didn't stray nor lose focus. Even if he couldn't see them, he knew those were the eyes of a man with really nothing to lose. And that was why they were letting him go on this crazy plan, he trusted them wholeheartedly to watch over his soon-to-be useless body. To watch him be in danger even though he knew clearly that they weren't going to enjoy it. He had no one else to turn to for this, no one beyond his small circle of friends knew of this or the problems he had.
This was his most desperate hour and he needed his friends but was willing to do it alone if he had to.
Russ sighed and straightened up as he let go of the chair. "We're not abandoning you to do this, but we're not going to enjoy it."
Cry smiled gratefully behind his mask as he stood from the swivel chair and clamped his hand over Russ' and squeezed it in the manner of male equivalent of a hug but of respect and friendship. "I know, I'm not going to enjoy it either, but I'm glad to know I won't have to face this alone entirely."
"Oi! You're never alone in anything you know!" Minx declared as she hugged him with Red joining in, causing Russ to laugh at Cry's tense and yet embarrassed pose from being hugged by the two women. "Just do me a favor and hit them hard for me!"
Red hugged him tightly, scared that this could very well be the last time she'll get to see her friend as he is now. "Just come back to us, okay? Late Nights with Russ, hell our lives won't be the same without you."
"Damn straight." the British gamer quipped, "You've promised to play Prop Hunt with me, Ohm, D-Live and Necro next week!" Her own way of telling him to win or she'll be upset at the loss of a good friend. "Plus Pewds and Ken would drag your masked ass back from hell. You know they'll do it."
Cry chuckled, his famous charming voice echoing in the room as he returned the hugs. "I'll try." His smile went slightly somber behind his mask at that fact. It was all he could really promise them, he was only human. He's was going up against his darker side and a virus he created, both very strong and determined to take his place by any means possible. The chances of him winning were slim, but he had to try. To be free and be somewhat normal again, to no longer fear himself or placing his friends in danger again, he had to win. He sighed, "Either I win, or one of them does. One way or another, this is going to be settled."