What Is Going On? [Paperhat Soulmate AU]

keep it on the downlow

Dr. Flug had never been stupid. He has never been the type for something to go completely over his head.

So why does he have absolutely no idea why Black Hat is acting so strangely?

It happened somewhat out of the blue, it seemed for Dr. Flug. One day, he was the Black Hat that everyone knew (and hated). The next, he was acting strange.

He spaced out all of the time, even when they were doing something important like filming a video. He got startled by the tiniest things, though he would never admit it and would have your head if you tried to bring it up. And, maybe one of the strangest one of his symptoms, he didn't blame anything on you anymore. In fact, he didn't seem to want anything to do with you.

When you were eating dinner, he would either keep to himself or try and talk to Dementia, which is weird because he hates her. When he has a new project for you, which are now becoming fewer and fewer, he'll either get 5.0.5. or Dementia to do it, or slip a note under your door. When you finish a project (and immediately sell out, as usual,) he'll sputter out what he might say are compliments.

'You do good sometimes.'

'Keep it up. You can be smart when you're not busy being an idiot.'

'You're my sou- scientist, I expect a lot from you. Good job."

Dr. Flug groans, fighting the urge to slam his bagged head down on the table. Focus, he thinks to himself, rubbing his temples in a futile struggle to fight back a migraine. Black Hat expects this done in two days.

Which is ridiculous, if you ask him, but it's better than what he used to make you do. Now you have two solid weeks to do each project, instead of a week and (maybe) a couple days.

Slow down, Flug. Think about your options. You could, one, go get some medication and wait for it to kick in before going back to work. You could keep working through the headache. Or... You could ask Black Hat for an extension on your project and get some well deserved rest. Ha, like that would go over well. 'Black Hat, I know I've had even more time than ever to finish my projects, but I need a little more time because I have a horrible headache.' Yeah, like THAT would go over well. Work through the headache it is.

Returning to his work, Dr. Flug let out a groan of displeasure when the world went dark and splotchy for a second. Nope, get something to eat and THEN go back to work.

After strolling through the seemingly endless halls of the Black Hat mansion that he had, by now, memorized, Dr. Flug arrived at the communal kitchen. Looking through the fridge for anything he would deem edible in the slightest, he passed over the spiders and rotting lasagna and settled on a green apple. While he was rinsing off the apple, Dr. Flug heard a soft humming from the dining room.

He raised an eyebrow, but all in all, didn't question it. It was probably 5.0.5., since the only other male in the house never indulged in such a trivial thing as humming. The tune sounded suspiciously familiar, though. He made his way to the dining room, quite in the mood for some company.

To Dr. Flug's surprise, it actually wasn't 5.0.5.. It was Black Hat who was humming the eerie tune. He was sitting at the long dining table only ever used for the four people (?) who lived here. The expression on his face was strange and foreign splayed across his features because it could only be described as a look of longing and sadness. He was hunched in on himself, his shoulders drawn in and his arms-

Oh my god.

In a rare show of vulnerability, Black Hat was clad in only a t-shirt and shorts. He didn't look very good, either. His face was flushed and his eyes watery. His arms, though, are what really caught your attention.

Scars. Scars were littered across his arms, big and little ones, most of which looked like they were self inflicted.

"J-Jefecito?" Dr. Flug stuttered out, raising his hand in a weak motion of greeting.

Black Hat's reaction was immediate. The scars littering his arms disappeared as he sprung out of his chair, the royally colored chair toppling to the floor behind him. His eyes swung to Flug's, and upon meeting them, immediately halted.

"Dr. Flug. Why aren't you working?" Black Hat said, his eyes pouring into Flug's, making him nervous even though he didn't technically do anything wrong.

"I w-was g-getting something to eat." Dr. Flug said, holding up his apple as if it were a piece of evidence for his case. He school his head. "N-nevermind me, sir. D-do you... c-cut yourself?"

Upon hearing the question, Black Hat got an undecipherable expression on his face. Somewhere between relief and sadness. Still, both buried beneath the ever present cover of anger.

"No. Why would you ever think that, Flug? And since when is it in the perimeters of your career to ask?" Black Hat sneered, turning away from the doctor. "Back to your station, or else I'll cut your legs off and you'll have to crawl back to your post. I'm not paying you to "go to hospitals"."

"I saw them." Dr. Flug said, halting Black Hat where he stood. "I saw the s-scars. Why?"

Black Hat let the question float in the air between the two for a while, contemplating the answer. What should I tell him? That they're actually Flug's own scars? Yeah, like that would go over well. He'd be down one scientist if he let the truth out, he's sure.

"They're... Not mine." The business man settles for, before leaving the room, leaving Flug feeling like he pried. He brought up Black Hat's suicidal soulmate? How insensitive can you get! Remembering he still had work to do, though, Flug returned to his station, apple in hand, and new information in his heart.