spoilers for schpood's pov of decayed and decrepit’s session 6!
tw: cursing, depictions of death, suicide
if chuck wasn't there for jonathan.
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the rain spattered in clear drops onto his face, onto his unbandaged flesh. the wind was blowing so strongly he wondered if it would swipe him off the edge of the building before he even had the chance to jump of his own volition.
he swayed in the harsh breeze, turning over his clamoring thoughts.
he was aware there was no cure. it was merely trading lives, of which they were going to be infected either way. they were all just shooting, stabbing, axing each other. woogie? dead. mike? dead. zora was next, and then god knows who after that.
god. of course he knew, why wouldn't he? the false idol he’d wasted years of his early life praying to, hoping that the holy figure would be benevolent enough to offer a helping hand. he was truly too naive back then—and what did it get him, really? nothing except broken faith. over, and over, and over, and over. god has done nothing. that fraud deserved no respect, deserved no title, deserved no dedication, deserved no fucking anything.
his nails bit into his palm and his teeth bit into his cheek and the wind bit into his skin.
his gaze fell, as soon his body would follow, to the streets below.
he distantly realized, amidst the chaos in his mind, that spidey might find his crumpled corpse lying in a pool of blood and tissue and have no name to put to his grave. even they had learned 4c’s real name after his death, but his own would be lost to time. he had not done enough in his lifetime to warrant a name.
he missed spidey, he did. he usually wouldn't admit that to himself, but he was quite literally on the cusp of death, so he allowed himself some concluding thoughts. it would be better for her to think he abandoned her and went off on his own than to know the simple truth of his cowardice. he just wished his earlier consideration didn't come true, that she didn't find his shattered form when he was done here.
the storm continued pelting around him, and he went forward another pace, closer to the bleak nothingness. the heights almost made him dizzy, and it was the first time in a long while that he was frightened by them again.
he swallowed hard and realized then that he was trembling. he was glad he didn't make that promise to agustus, he wouldn't be able to keep it anyway.
“it was nice while it lasted,” he muttered, his throat constricting.
for his final words, to the one who did deserve a dedication, he whispered to the wind and rain a soft “goodbye, spidey.”
at least he would see her in a moment. seven minutes of memories and all that.
he took his last step, breathed his last breath, and plummeted.
he looked to the pouring sky and knew he was going to hell—if such a place existed.
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im genuinely homosexual