Isaac held a handful of crumpled up tissues to his left... well, it's certainly not an eye anymore. He guesses it'd be considered just a socket now. But it doesn't matter much, because it's bloody, and it hurts. Isaac truly felt like an idiot. He was supposed to be the smart one, he was always supposed to be the smart one.
But he was also the unhinged one. The one dancing on the edge of a path of no return. He tried to prevent it, but there was just... something about this body of his and this mind of his (that maybe wasn't entirely his own) that made him act different than what was normal. And the crossing of minds results in a sickly satisfied part of him, that made him wonder if maybe this will be the thing that will make Andrew finally see him. As his own person.
Not a ghost of someone who was dead and rotting and should stay that way.
Someone who wasn't him and didn't deserve to be him.
(But what does that really mean, to be "deserving" to be someone else?Is there such a thing? It does exist, Isaac thinks—no, knows.)
But all of these things didn't matter in the moment, because Isaac needed help. He tried to deny it because he wanted to be the one to provide it, but the truth of the matter was that he needed it himself. In more ways than one. But right now, what he needed was Andrew. To help him get out of this. This stupid little decision of his. (Or maybe it'd pay off just to see the look on Andrew's face—what was he thinking now?)
Isaac pulls himself up from off the ground, and shuffles towards the door. His body feels like it's made out of rocks, but he continues. He always continues. Because he must continue. At least he's not a completely lost cause, because before he knows it, he's already in the hallway stumbling his way towards Andrew's door. He's pretty sure he's left behind little trickles of blood as he shambles his way through, but he doesn't really care right now. Andrew. That's his task right now. Find Andrew.
When he finally gets to Andrew's door, he takes a moment to lean against it and let himself breath. He feels like he'll fall if he doesn't lean against something. Isaac wonders, for a moment, if the better choice would be to let himself fall and let Andrew find... whatever's left of him in the morning. But he knows that's the crueler option, the one that would hurt Andrew more, and he doesn't want to do that. So, he takes a breath, gathers his courage, and knocks on the door. When he doesn't get an initial response, his knocking becomes more urgent and desperate.
"A—Andrew, I-I... I need help!" Isaac calls out, and he can already feel the urge to cry. He hears Andrew moving inside, but not towards the door. He forgot about the whole knocking thing. "It's... I'm hurt, you're not in trouble. I-I swear I'm not mad, or anything, I just... it's really bad. It's really, really bad... that's why I'm... the knocking, that's why."
Panic spikes in Isaac, and he wonders if he'll die in front of Andrew's room. Well, no, that's dramatic, isn't it? He'd only pass out... but that's still bad, right? But he doesn't need to wonder. He finally hears Andrew coming closer.
"... Isaac? It's the middle of the night, what are you..." Andrew sleepily opened the door, only to trail off as he immediately woke up at the sight before him. "... Jesus Christ, what happened? Why is your eye…?”
“I-I made a really bad decision. A-And… I need medical help. M-My eye is gone. Please help me.” Isaac whimpered. God, he sounded so pathetic. He could keep finding a thousand different little reasons to hate himself right now. He hated the way that Andrew was looking at him. Like he was crazy. Which he probably was.
“Fuck, Isaac, I… Jesus, alright. Let me grab my jacket and I’ll drive you to the hospital. Just… don’t pass out.” He said with a sigh, retreating back into the room to get his jacket.
“Thank you,” Isaac spoke in a quiet voice, then hesitantly added, “… and I’m sorry.”
“It’s… it’s fine. Just don’t do whatever the hell you were doing to get you to lose your fucking eye again, dude… actually, do you still have it? We might need to bring it, and see if they can like… reattach it.”
“In the bathroom. Sink, probably.” If he weren’t in the state he was in, he would’ve got it himself to save Andrew the trouble of finding the Isaac left behind (and leave him connecting the dots that it was self-caused). But he wasn’t, so Andrew would find out. And Isaac would have to deal with the consequences (again, as he did every time he messed up).
As Andrew left to gather his eye, Isaac slowly sunk to the floor. He couldn’t keep standing to wait, so, the floor would have to make do for a seat. Andrew was taking longer than Isaac expected, so he figured that he was trying to process what happened. And he figured that Andrew figured it out, because when he returned, he looked less than thrilled.
Isaac hesitates, wondering if he should lie or not. But, Andrew did ask him to tell the truth, so he lets it spill out,
“… I thought if—if I got rid of it, then… you’d stop seeing Ivan in me.”
Isaac can see a flurry of different emotions filtering through Andrew’s face, so much so that it’s impossible to tell what he’s actually feeling. Andrew takes a breath, seemingly to steady himself, before looking at Isaac with a stern look.
“… Alright. Okay. Let’s get you to the car, so we can to go the hospital. I’m not going to talk to you about this right now, but we will talk, because clearly we need to.”
“… Okay.” Is all Isaac can say in a small voice.
