@aniillusion
How long had he been screaming for help? He doesn’t know. Why didn’t Mr. Robot save him? He thought they had an agreement. He hears the voice, familiar. You filed the name down there somewhere. Among the pain and the bruises. The feeling of his fingers being broken. Only a few, he probably DESERVED this. He’d fucked with the wrong people. MIKE. The name crawls out of the darkness, he’d helped him right? Helped him ERASE the demons. He can’t erase his own. It didn’t help him. Did he help Mike? “Mike?”
It hurts to speak. To breathe. To be alive. Mr. Robot had taken the beatings away, he only remembers DARKNESS. He can’t take the pain away. Was Mike just another illusion? “Are you real?”
[He’d had his suspicions for a while, though hadn’t had any plausible cause to investigate. However, after he’d seen the familiar phone of his friend (?), MIKE had known that he’d been taken there. Secluded, tightly packed... at least the location was appropriate for the crime-- and here he is thinking too much again.]
[Elliot is in a pitiful state to say the least, knees immediately bending to bring his body in closer. HARMON knows how the other feels about touch, but now is hardly his time to be picky;hands move to his broad shoulders, fingers flattening against the bulk of his back as he hauls the beaten man onto his feet, hosting the majority of his body weight by letting him lean against him.]
“Yes-- ooor we’re both fake. Either way, we’re the same, friend.”
[With an uncertain glance at the man, he opts to speak up once more.]
“We have to get you to a hospital, Elliot... you’re pretty fucked up.”
[What MIKE fails to mention is his crippling phobia of them.]
