What he said had caused me to go numb, shock. Infinite's... this new person's words were like someone explaining to you that in a week they will approach their "deadline". A deadline to off themselves. How? How is Infinite – Why is Infinite...? I can't even finish off my own questions because all this is so bizarre. Or maybe it's the concussion I have, and the fact that not longer than fifteen minutes ago I had briefly left this word.

"Infinite..." I murmured, barely able to speak up, head foggy. I was so tired, I wanted sleep, but I mustn't allow it. I could not wake up, and the desperation to die wasn't plaguing my mind anymore. Not at the moment anyway. "I don't want you to do that." What the hell am I saying?

For a split second, I remember something. Infinite gave me CPR to revive me, that means he... had his lips on mine...

He looks down at me, somewhat confused by this. His mismatched eyes seemed to be searching mine for a reason why those words left my mouth. Those eyes seemed weary, skeptical. Tough, like he has been through several lies before. Infinite wanted to know what I was going to gain by saying these things. He seemed so distrustful.

I can't blame him for thinking that half the shit that spurt out of people's mouths are lies. "You've changed... You're so different than the heartless monster everybody claimed you to be." I remember how people would say that Infinite should burn in hell for his crimes. How he murdered entire platoons and laughed afterwards. But now with the information that Infinite was forced to do these things... Infinite could start over, perhaps. Become a new person. Even bring the doctor who did this to him to justice.

"You were under Eggman's control, right? You... you..." The words were getting caught in my throat. I'm not used to speaking this much, my throat was dry, voice rough. Often, I think my responses through more since I choose silence rather than talking without thought. And then I usually never say what the sentence I carefully planned out in the end. But now, this was just what was happening: talking without fully planning out what I was saying. "You can start over, begin again. Maybe the Resistance would understand you were being manipulated. Maybe they will ask you to help take Eggman down. Maybe... you can help end the war."

Infinite looked displeased. Like this was what he didn't want to hear. A frown was across his face, more so than usual. "That's not what I want," he says. "I don't want to be near this war anymore. You don't understand. I had to watch as I killed all those people, observe from my own eyes as they bled, screamed." Infinite bares his teeth as his eyes move to the ground, remembering. "And I don't want to aid a feeble faction of bottom feeders that has Shadow within their ranks."

Infinite looks back at me, his eyes were angry again. I felt scared edging my heart. I slowly sit up, wincing. I hold a hand to my bleeding head, turning around to watch as Infinite stood up.

He must have seen my fear. Infinite sighed, closing his eyes. "I... apologize," he said. Infinite opens his eyes. "This is what I mean. I fear that there is some part of me that will snap if I'm near conflict. Something that will kill."

I shake my head slowly, pushing a hand on the ground to sit up. "That 'part of you' was Eggman controlling you like a character in a videogame. He made you do whatever he wanted you to do. That wasn't you." Infinite looked at me, silent. He didn't seem convinced.

"I get it... being afraid to 'snap'. I've lashed out at my friends a few times. And being near a warzone makes you..." I look at Infinite, almost unable to say the final word. "Scared."

Infinite looks at me like I've called him the worst possible name. His fists crunch together, he teleports towards me. He grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me toward him, nearly lifting me off the ground. I gasp, eyes widening with my heart pounding out of my chest. Infinite's eyes were angry, wild. His fangs were glistening, teeth gritted together. Were they always that sharp? Or is my fear highlighting danger?

I grab his arm, uncertain what to do. No matter how much I tried to do something to let me go, he wouldn't budge. His grip remained strong no matter how much I squirmed. Infinite had snapped at me so easily, I thought.

"I am not afraid," he glares. "You think that I am scared of battle?" Infinite's eyes became cold, unlike they were only a few moments ago, when they were almost kind. He looked at me like I was his worst enemy. "You think I'm weak?"

He drops me to the ground. My brain bounces around in my skull, my vision goes blurry for a moment. I felt like I could have vomited. After a few blinks to help clear my wits – although I was still in incredible pain – I back away from Infinite. One thought ran through my head: He is going to hurt me.

"You think I'm weak, don't you?" He growls, stepping towards me. My back eventually hits the metal wall behind me. I shake my head, unable to form words to protect my well-being from the person who I thought I created a bond with. But that bond was broken so much quicker than it was formed – like they always are – and I doubt I will live to repair it.

I wish I could take it back. I wish I had never said anything. Why didn't I remain silent?

Infinite crouches in front of me, grabbing my shoulders, looking intensely into my eyes. His sharp nails were digging through my camouflage T-shirt's sleeves. "Just say it!" What was rage was becoming something else... pain.

Infinite's yelling was stirring up memories from my childhood, something from what felt like two lifetimes ago. Being yelled at for seemingly so reason. Feeling like a disappointment, or that I screwed something up. Thinking about how if I didn't say something, an outcome would never happen. Before I realize, my eyes were burning and my lip was starting to tremble.

Infinite stares at me, rage turning to regret. Realizing how his anger had blinded him, Infinite slowly loosens his grip on my shoulders. He pulls me into a hug, I don't wrap my arms around him in return, but a single drop of water falls onto his back from my face. He seemed relaxed, the muscles in his body were not tense anymore like they constantly were. Or maybe he was giving up, finally done, broken from everything. Perhaps that's why Infinite snapped at me, he has collected all these negative emotions for so long, they have become him.

"I'm sorry..." he mutters after a moment of silence. "W-weak is a trigger word for me." Infinite struggles to start his sentence. "All my life, I've tried to prove to everybody, my Squad, my family, my enemies, to myself that I am strong. My dad made me and my brother feel like nothing, every day. And eventually, my brother became like my father; corrupt, cruel. I knew it wouldn't be long before I turned into them, so I left. When I ran from his influence, I became a mercenary, the only thing I could think of. Many of the marks I've killed have done... vile things that makes them more than deserving of their deaths or captures."

Infinite sighs. "I suppose I have never quite shaken the fear of being perceived as weak. And when Shadow had... eradicated my Squad, and didn't even burden himself with finishing me off, it was like saying I was the weakest, most pathetic individual on the face of Mobius."

His words were becoming strained, painful. I close my drying eyes, and wrap my arms around Infinite, pulling him close. This is why Infinite hates Shadow, I think. He killed Infinite's Squad, then left Infinite as a broken man. Causing the already broken pieces of Infinite's pride to crumble to the ground again. Now there was no one to pick him up. Infinite's body starts trembling, though it was subtle, like he tried hiding it. Specific areas on my back became warm, the fabric of my shirt wet. Infinite was crying?

"I-I just heard my father!" Infinite wept, tightening his grip on me. Convulsions took over his body, he was gasping in air, voice trembling.

I open my eyes and stare ahead of me blankly, unable to let go of him. He was so hurt... The world gave him a raw deal. I heard the words that my mother spat at me, things I thought I had buried and forgotten long ago. The specifics were missing, things I forced myself to forget, but they still stung. I knew that when I was there in that moment, and days after, they hurt deeply. When I finally escaped my toxic parents and found a new life elsewhere – with Kasey, it was taken away. Taken by something that could have been easily avoided, alcohol. Beer, whiskey, scotch, and then a handful of sleeping medication.

I close my eyes, more water falling down my left cheek. Infinite and I both have gone through such similar experiences. Not the same lives, but the same situations. An unforgiving household, a restart, a job opportunity, a new squad... loss. An unstable recovery, only to become suicidal along the way of this harsh life.

Infinite kept crying and crying. His hug was crushing, but I didn't complain. I couldn't. It expressed the agony, self-doubt and guilt that collected over years of pain and loss. He was broken. And now he couldn't put on a mask to lock the emotions away. And the best way to recover was to let it all out. Even if it is painful.

Several moments pass, they are long, Infinite was struggling to breathe; each breath was dry and quick. He was dehydrating himself.

"W-why are you doing this?" Infinite manages to stutter through his gasps of air. My shirt continues to soak with water. "Are you giving me your pity?!" He tries to pull away from our hug, but I don't let go of him. Infinite struggles, but he couldn't focus his energy on anything else but his breakdown and is barely able to escape my arms.

Sobs rattle his entire body, Infinite was trembling. "What are you gaining?" he continues to ask questions. He was so distrustful he doesn't understand what anybody with morals would do in this situation?

"I'm letting you express your pain," I say as Infinite slowly gave up on struggling. Kasey once said the same thing to me when I was breaking down about memories from my household. I am doing what Kasey would have done.

"Y-you're acting like you're my ally – my friend! W-we aren't comrades!"

I wonder whether he heard me or not. I couldn't tell.

"W-we never will be! Even if I was worth all this, WHY ME?!" He screams, still weeping, more tears falling onto my back.

A part of me is hurt by his words, but the rest of me says that he doesn't mean this. Infinite has grown so used to being perceived as "worthless" and "pathetic" that he doesn't even believe he deserves help. Infinite's words are just a scream for help when you process them. This cruel world has taken its toll, the trauma has set in and finally risen to the surface. And I'm here to watch Infinite fall. Me, his prisoner. His suicidal prisoner who is trapped by him and by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and the horrible tortures that comes with it.

But isn't he the same?

Infinite wraps his arms back around me, if he wasn't draining all his energy crying, he might have crushed my ribs in his hug. Infinite's breaths were hitched, his chest heaving.

My heart aches, but I don't let him go.

I must let him grieve.