Despair's Insanity - an II x DR fic

KEC - FTE 1

As I tried to step back to move out of the lobby, walk away and ignore what had happened, my feet suddenly felt glued to the floor. I still couldn't quite wrap my head around it all, but I heard Oj and Bomb walking away with awkward shuffling and tripping, so I took Pickle's picture frame off the wall to look at it. He seemed so... odd. Of all people to be brutally murdered, I couldn't see what he did to deserve a fate like that. What confused me even more, was how I only knew four people who seemed to care to mention him in the situation. With any thought beyond him being the victim, anyway.

Everyone was so worried for Soap, but she did kill him. Oj wasn't exactly the nicest person ever, but they had to realize he was right... right?

I put the frame back on the wall and turned to walk around, but I saw Knife walking over toward me with a little doll in his hand. It had been a long time since I saw the show, but I recognized it almost instantly as Knife's precious Dora doll! He loved that thing a lot, but to see him with it in person definitely felt a little off. He must've noticed, because he set the doll down onto the sofa a few feet away.

"Hey. What are you doing here? The funeral ended a while ago." Knife tried to seem casual and nonchalant about everything, even with the pretty convincing smile he wore.

"Eh. I... I didn't wake up in time," I mumbled as he stood beside me, "but you can stop pretending you're happy. I'm not gonna judge you." His smile weakened a bit to more of an awkward position.

"Just- wanted to liven some spirits up a little, y'know? Nobody really liked Pickle besides me, Bomb, and maybe Paper's...self, but then the others started grieving like he mattered to half of them before he died. At first, I was kinda pissed, but I figured I'd let them all have their own little moment... At least Oj isn't fake."

"You think Oj's being genuine?"

Knife paused for a moment. "Ok, he's the fakest one here- but at least he's not fake in the way of making death all about himself, if that makes sense. I think he's just in his own weird bubble. But I don't really care about him right now." I nodded and turned back to the pictures on the wall, unsure of what I should say or even ask about. Maybe Knife could help me understand what everyone else is going through? The more I thought about that, the less likely it seemed.

"...well," I started, "could you tell me a little about Pickle? Like- maybe why he wore a tuxedo?" Knife laughed at my last question, despite the look of misery on his face.

"Ah, he always wore that because he thought it would make people curious, and try to talk to him! You know what happened in season one, right?" I nodded, though I barely had a grasp on that situation. "Taco kind of... was his only social life for a while. And when she left him so dramatically, everyone kind of didn't want to associate with him either because he was so insistent on protecting her throughout the show. We all thought it was karma, I guess."

"Karma? For being fooled??" How was doing the right thing meant to be considered karma? Should he have known the whole time she was evil? Nobody did! I didn't think that was the case, at least. Knife just shrugged.

"I guess. I wasn't any better, but he tried to be social. He tried to talk to everyone and invite them to play games, but it never worked. He put in so much time and effort and got nothing out of it... and it didn't help that Taco was writing apology letters. He had to choose between someone who betrayed him, but might take him back, and a hotel that didn't really want him. And then... he talked to me one day."

He stopped talking for a moment or so to take a deep breath. Once he went on, his voice had become shaky. "He didn't know me that well, but he said that if I wanted to talk to someone- he would want to talk to someone too. We could be less alone together. If he hadn't said that to me, I..." He trailed off as he sniffled and wiped off his face. "I- I probably would've been the same angry person I always had been. I had burnt my one bridge with Paper, and I've never even rebuilt it today. Pickle doesn't realize how much he meant to some people... how much he meant to me. And I'm probably going to blame myself for not spending more time with him forever, but that's just how things are now!"