𝑶𝒉, 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆…(𝑺𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒛𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆.)
DISCLAIMER: none of this is supposed to be related to canon, its just an au/what-if situation!
rocketfollower angst fic cuz i got bored at 1am cliffhanger warning! ill possibly try writing one of these every week or other, not too sure you get uuuh a hug if you guess the song right
His memories and visions hazed. Like tiny explosions in his mind that set off at the tiniest trigger. He wasn’t sure if he was forgetting them or just… storing them away.
Rocket trembled at the foot of his door. Down on his knees, as though praying for SFOTH to let his dearest go. It was so unfair, he thought. He didn’t deserve this. The little boy he ran around and bullied, way back when. Only to become the bestest of friends shortly after.
He didn’t deserve this. Rocket did. He should’ve stayed dead, if it meant Sword got to live a normal life.
At least Sword wasn’t dead. But… this… just felt so much worse. Torturous, even. What kind of sick and twisted deity puts forces the nephew to become a mindless zombie?
Rocket felt sick at the thought. That ‘follower’ was not his Sword. Anything but him. He wanted to rip something, someone apart. This wasn’t fair. None of it was. He should stop whining about it and go DO SOMETHING. If Sword wasn’t giving up on bringing Rocket back, then neither was Rocket.
The dagger in his hand shook with the vibrations of movement in his body. He needed something better than just deep cuts and words to get him back. But how? He couldn’t just, go up to Illumina and stab him. He’d go blind before then.
Maybe a more… calm approach. Rocket doubted he’d be able to stay composed enough to do something like that, but it was worth a try. He knew that Sword patrolled around the center streets of Crossroads… which is below where Illumina’s new ‘palace’ had appeared. (Gods, that entitled bitch. Someone has to put that motherfucker in his place.) Medkit had gone out at night before to deliver ‘Follower’ a gift. Which was a tracker he had cleverly constructed… it surprised Rocket, to see the doctor so passionate about something after so long.
Maybe, if Rocket got to him at a late enough time, he could talk to ‘Follower’ and get some info. Maybe. It was worth a try.
♡
3. Fucking. Weeks. Of trying.
Rocket was getting tired. Every time he’d try and talk to ‘Follower’ he was brutally pushed and shoved away by other follower inphernals. Rarely he’d get out of the place unscathed and untouched. He killed a few of them too. Did he care? No. Would Sword have cared? Yeah. He would’ve yelled at Rocket to stop all of this at one point. Scolded the rocketeer and told him to stop being so reckless, and that he was okay.
But he wasn’t there to stop Rocket. No one was.
No matter fucking what. He’d get Sword back. If he didn’t? Well… Sword’s efforts would most likely go down in vain. But there wasnt a single day where Rocket would let that happen in his life. Not while he was alive.
This time will be it, he always thought. The day I’ll finally get through to him. Like some twisted fantasy fairytale, maybe I’ll be able to see Sword again.
Shoving past crowds, hoards of inphernals, he rammed into a particularly tall and sturdy one. One that stared down and glared at him. With empty, white, gleaming eyes that pierced his eyes and soul. He froze like a deer in headlights. Blinking to regain his sight, looking up and down the form in front of him.
Follower. Follower Sword. Sword…
Nothing about him was the same. His face was pale and purple, white marks below his voided eyes embedded into his skin like vines. Lavender spikes grew out of his once pristine, crimson horns. Sharp, but organized, like a… mace? No. More like how Rocket’s horns used to be. Spikes along the bottom side, it reminded him of…
Follower yanked at Rocket’s horn, harshly tugging him to the side, and into an alley.
”What is thy’s business here?”
His voice was cold and snappy. And sounded like he could break into a growl at any moment.
“Sword! You, you’re—“ Rocket started, only to have his head slammed into the brick wall behind him. His horn was chipped and cracked.
”Never speak to me that name. I hast put that past behind me now. For I am better with thine lord by mine side.” His grip on Rocket’s horn stilled unwavering, causing the boy to tear up and sob in pain from the injury.
”WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH YOU?!” Rocket desperately struggled, finally realizing he needed to keep his distance. His hands wrapped around Follower’s forearm, trying to pull him off.
”Thou hast to understand, Dear Rocket. Mine Lord Illumina forbid thou from visiting me. Lord’s choice is most wise, and I entrust him with mine life.” The follower’s hand shifted down to Rocket’s cheek, his touch turning into something more eerie, more enticing. As if trying to drag Rocket into this dark pit along with him. But the rocketeer wasn’t falling for it.
”Trust. TRUST?! HAH, YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT TRUST? AND DON’T YOU EVEN CALL ME THAT. YOU DON’T DESERVE TO. YOU’RE NOT SWORD.” His hand tightened around the other’s arm. It didn’t see to do much except get Follower to readjust him hand.
”Is it very him you desire? I’m afeard he doth not own the power to control this body. Though, he still doth exist.” The freezing cold hands dropped from Rocket’s face, going to scratch at Follower’s chin.
”He… He’s still there, is what you’re saying? You’re- you’re just some disgusting replacement to keep him away from him. Bring him back. I’ll do anything.”
”Anything, thoust say?”