First scene has 813 words, second scene has 1,759 words, third scene has 426 words, and the ending scene has 281 words. Feeling pretty happy with how it turned out, honestly. Be ready to sob. Enjoy! Well. Enjoy sobbing! Probably. You are definitely going to hate Andi even more after this, haha...
Losing Track
Characters; Garvin, Andi, and Rover. Flood, Jinx, Spade, Navis, and Aqua mentioned.
Prompt; Whumpril Day 15 - Mind Games
Word Count; 3,279.
TWs; Ooooh boy, there’s a lot. Swearing, physical abuse, emotional abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, abuse in general, implied sexual assault, mild dissociation, not so mild dissociation, suicidal ideation, implied starvation, almost drowning, implied animal abuse, and probably more? Maybe not though. Who knows. Maybe that’s all. Hopefully that’s all.
Notes; Takes place before the main story. Happens over, uh, like, a month or two? Doesn’t go over everything that happened within the month or two, just four different scenes within them.
*~*~*~*
Out of everything that he could’ve expected, waking up in a soft bed was not one of them. Though, truthfully, he wasn’t in the bed for very long, finding himself on the floor next to it fairly quickly in his confusion. Not that it mattered, given how he didn’t really fall to the ground fully. Instead, something pulling at his wrists stopped him from going down all the way.
-
He let out a quiet groan, whether from the general aching feeling that was sort of just normal at this point or from whatever stupid emotion that was deciding to bother him, he didn’t know. He didn’t really care either, it didn’t change much of anything. He was still cuffed to the headboard of a bed. At least he wasn’t in the basement anymore?
-
Which was a dumbass thought. Considering standing, however… He glanced up the length of his arms towards his hands.
-
Twisting his hands so he could hold onto the bar that the cuffs were wrapped around wasn’t all that difficult. It was figuring out how to go about pulling himself up into a stand afterwards that was, especially with the way his legs didn’t seem to want to listen to him. Which he thought was stupid. He’d been through worse. Hadn’t he? He wasn’t actually too sure… But still. He could manage this.
-
He was willing to say that he almost did manage it too. Before he heard the sound of footsteps from outside the room and stopped trying to stand in favor of deciding whether or not it was worth it to stand. He couldn’t really do much other than just, well, stand if he did. He’d wanted to be able to look around the room a little easier, but he wasn’t sure how much that was actually going to help him out all that much in the long run. He wasn’t sure how many chances he’d get for it to really matter.
-
So he stopped what he was doing and let himself find where he’d been on the ground again. At least he had a good view of the door. Which was opening. And, damn it— He should’ve stood up. He’d rather not have to look up. He’d rather not be here at all, actually.
-
“Oh, you’re awake. That’s a pleasant surprise. Well, good morning then, Garvin.”
-
He was really starting to hate hearing that damn name. Still, the absurdity of the words made it a bit easier to force up a grin and raise an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Wakin’ up cuffed to a bed is a good mornin’ fo’ ya?”
-
Andi definitely looked a bit more annoyed at that, so that was a win. Or, really, he mostly just looked less smug. Still a win. Andi starting to walk over towards him was less of a win, but well. What could one do? Winning everything was apparently not a thing he could do.
-
“Well, I mean, if you prefer the basement then that’s fine. I just thought I’d change it up a bit, Garvin. Seeing as you’ve been here for a year now.”
-
And— Wait. He’d been stuck here for a year? A whole damn year? He felt like he’d been here longer. Or maybe not as long. He wasn’t sure. Keeping track of time had never been something he did all too well. Still, a year didn’t seem right. Maybe that was just because he’d been stuck in a basement for, well, all of it… No wonder it had seemed even colder recently.
-
He realized he’d stopped paying attention when Andi crouched down next to him, that smug smile back and already reaching a hand towards him. He leaned back as far as he was able to, trying not to grimace too much when he wasn’t able to get very far. Probably farther than he could’ve in the basement but still nowhere near as far as he wanted to be. The hand still managed to grab a hold of his chin, after all.
-
“Good to see you didn’t even know, Garvin. Don’t worry, I obviously won’t be getting rid of you yet. If you’re good for me though, maybe I’ll let you stay up here more often. Shouldn’t be too hard for you, right, Garvin? You already refuse to scream or beg like I want you to. Now you just have to make sure that when you do, you’ll be in the basement instead. Well, that and a few other rules. Those can wait for later though. No need to worry about them just yet, Garvin.”
-
He tried to ignore the way he said when instead of if. Tried to ignore Andi getting closer, the hand holding his chin pulling him away from how he’d leaned back and into a kiss he didn’t want. And he tried not to pay attention to anything that happened after that.
---
As much as he hated to admit it, he definitely preferred upstairs to the basement. Too late now, probably. He doubted he’d be going back up there anytime soon. Unless he had the chance to get out soon, since he had managed to grab a few paper clips at least. Though, that was also why he was back down in the basement anyways. So keeping them was more of an issue than he’d like to admit.
-
He hadn’t been questioned about them yet though. Andi hadn’t even been down here since he’d brought him down here either. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what to think about that. Maybe he’d just gotten fed up with him and was going to kill him like this now. Maybe it was just as bad to get caught grabbing paper clips as it were to scream or beg or whatever else made him decide it was time to kill someone. He didn’t know. How would he know?
-
His wrists hurt. A lot more than that hurt, actually, but it was easiest to focus on the pain at his wrists. He was tired. He was so damn tired. And hungry. And cold. He’d rather just be shot or stabbed or something. Not this, not waiting for death to come and get him slowly. He almost wanted the door to open. He didn’t care. He was over this, all of this. He’d prefer anything to the slow death that seemed more and more likely by the second, or however time worked here, to be what was happening. He didn’t want to die like this. Trapped in some guy’s basement after a whole year spent surviving that same damn guy. By starving. As if it didn’t matter where he was, that fate was just what was going to happen. He didn’t want that. He’d be fine with any other way to go but that.
-
The door opened soon after, or maybe not soon after, he didn’t know, time didn’t really seem to matter much at this point here. But regardless, the door opening at some point after that didn’t really make him rethink any of it. If anything, the only idea he reconsidered was that maybe, just maybe, Andi had been waiting to do… Whatever it was he was going to do. As if he knew what that was. He was tired, he was hungry, he was cold, he was sore and— Damn it, he had a headache. Which, okay, maybe that one didn’t seem like much. But it was annoying and just made everything else more difficult to deal with and, shit, he should probably be focusing on what Andi was doing. Right? That would probably make sense. Except his eyes wouldn’t focus and everything felt foggy and he’d honestly rather just go to sleep and—
-
Oh, wait, Andi’s mouth was moving. More than that, when had he even gotten down all the stairs? Wasn’t there usually more time than that? Or… How long had it even been?
-
Being forced to look up by his hair wasn’t pleasant (when had he looked down?) but he was almost used to it. Maybe. Still, he blinked his eyes and tried to figure out just what was happening and— Oh, well, Andi definitely didn’t look happy.
-
It took him a few seconds, or he at least thought it was seconds, to realize he’d laughed at that. Which explained why Andi looked even less happy. Still, it was probably worth it. Maybe it’d make him kill him quicker. Who knew… Not him. Definitely not him.
-
His hair was pulled on again, and he realized he’d started looking down again. Andi was saying something. Did it matter what? The prick only ever did the same things anyways. He didn’t really want to hear it right now. He’d rather him just get on with whatever it was he was going to do this time. Apparently he didn’t get to not hear everything though, since the next time his hair was yanked, he ended up hearing what was being said to him.
-
“I know you have more of them! Where the fuck are they, Garvin?!”
-
And— Okay. What was he even talking about? Was it… Oh. Wait. Was it the paper clips? Was that what he was talking about? No way was he telling Andi about those. Nope. He forced a grin instead and lied through his teeth, as best as he could. “No clue wha’ ya talkin’ ‘bout.”
-
He felt the punch a few seconds after it had happened and tried not to cough at the way it seemed to tickle his lungs. Or maybe that was something else. He wasn’t sure.
-
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Garvin! I know you have them! Where the fuck did you put them?!”
-
And, yeah, Andi was definitely pissed. Which would’ve been funny, if he were anywhere else but here. Really sucked that he was here. Damn it, he really hated hearing that name. Thanks a lot. Sarcasm. Definitely sarcasm. He didn’t bother saying anything this time, it took way too much effort for something he was just going to lie about anyways.
-
At least he wasn’t too surprised when one cuff was undone so he could be dragged. He wasn’t that surprised at all, the guy had always been quick to throw a fit. Wished he wasn’t who had to deal with it though. He didn’t know who he’d rather have in his place. No one, probably. Better that it was him, even if he wished it wasn’t. Which he definitely wished it wasn’t. Even more when the sound of running water reached his ears. He was so, so going to avoid water for a good while if he ever got out of here. He hated that it was an if. Hated that he couldn’t keep up with lying to himself that it was a when as much anymore.
-
He tried not to panic when he found his head in the water, tried to be smart and hold his breath and not do anything that would mean breathing in the water sooner rather than later. He’d always been bad at it though, always been quick to try and breathe in when he couldn’t. And he’d really, really rather not drown to death. It was painful, it was always painful. He didn’t want to drown. Not again.
-
He’d ended up fighting against the hand holding his head under the water again. It wasn’t a good idea, he knew that, but he— He didn’t want to drown. He didn’t. He’d drowned a lot of times in his life and it was always terrible. He hated it. Hated the way the water burned his insides when he breathed it in. He wished he was like Aqua, able to breathe underwater and not have to worry about drowning in the first place. He missed Aqua. Missed Flood and Jinx and Spade and Navis— And he just missed all of them.
-
He breathed in the water just as accidentally as he always did, still wishing he was back on Flood’s ship instead of locked down in some old guy’s basement. He didn’t want to die, not down here, not to whoever this guy was. He wanted out, wanted to learn to read someone’s face with Spade, to play the banjo with Nav, to listen to Jinx’s stories— He didn’t want to drown. He didn’t. He really, really didn’t.
-
He was pulled out from under the water just as his vision started to get darker, spottier. He stayed where he’d been thrown onto the ground, coughing and trying to get the water out of his lungs, still not fully believing he’d actually been pulled out. With his mind still reeling though, he almost expected Flood or Navy or even Aqua to help him. Haul him up or pat his back or- Or something. It took him a second to remember that he missed them because they weren’t there. Took him even longer to remember that they hadn’t been there, or really that he hadn’t been there with them, for… A long time. He missed them. Missed all of them. Missed traveling with them, talking to them, learning from them or about them— He missed being with them, being part of their family. He missed having anyone he could call family. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. Flood had told him that before too. That it wasn’t fair.
-
Something connected with his stomach, and then his back connected with something metal. It took him a moment to realize he’d been kicked. He was still coughing, the kick probably hadn’t helped. He didn’t know. He felt like he should be crying, he wasn’t sure if he was though. Trying to push himself, a voice finally managed to reach him.
-
“Where the fuck are the clips, Garvin!? You fucking piece of trash! Stop fucking ignoring me!”
-
He coughed, and tried not to whine, even before he was kicked again. Flood had never called him Garvin. Navis, Spade, and Jinx had never called him Garvin. Phlox had never called him Garvin. They’d always called him Chips. He missed being called Chips. He was kicked again though, and coughed some more, wishing that whoever was yelling at him would at least give him some time to get the water out of his lungs.
-
He ended up on his back, still coughing and staring up at the ceiling of this old guy’s basement. He felt a pressure on his chest, and tried to clear his eyes enough to figure out what was going on. It was hard. Everything was foggy, everything was dark and cold and painful and he just wanted to be back on the ship again. He didn’t care, at least when he’d almost drowned to death there people cared.
-
The pressure at his chest grew, and kept growing. It was hard to breathe and he couldn’t even cough with the pressure on him and he could hear someone’s voice but he didn’t know whose it was and he wasn’t sure if he was trying to fight or not and— The next sound he truly, fully heard was a loud cracking noise from the same place that the pressure was coming from. And maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t quite breathe because he probably would’ve screamed if he had been able to. Still, the pressure left then and he tried- He tried to keep up with what was happening after that, but everything was cold and tired and pained and he really just couldn’t.
---
He’d woken up in the basement again, and really- He was almost surprised with how often he was moving back and forth between upstairs and the basement. Almost. But he also felt like he kind of knew a bit about how Andi was at this point. The asshat flipped on a dime, really. It was no surprise he’d been able to keep the paper clips hidden.
-
What was nice about waking up in the basement this time was that one of his hands wasn't cuffed to the pipe his other one was. Which, while it did mean that he hadn’t fought back or struggled or annoyed Andi as much as he wished he would’ve, it did mean that there was probably food for him. And that Rove was down here too. Which was honestly always nice. That always meant the day was a better one. Always meant he wouldn’t have to worry about seeing Andi for a little while. Always meant that when he did, he’d probably be out of it enough that he wouldn’t have to remember any of it. That’d be a nice change of pace.
-
He rolled his eyes around the area, looking for either food or Rove. And, ding ding, sound the dumb winner bell or whatever sound it was those stupid ass shows had in them— Because there was food and Rove curled up right next to him. He wasn’t too sure how he hadn’t noticed the fluffball sooner, but maybe it was the same way he was able to ignore the pain he was in. Still, it was nice to see the sheepdog, especially given how upset Andi had seemed towards him last.
-
So, using his hand that wasn’t cuffed to a pipe behind him, he reached over and pet the poor thing. Rove’s head shot up quickly, looking a lot more alert than he himself felt. The dog relaxed fairly quickly after seeming to realize it was just him and he was able to keep petting him though, so he counted it as a win… He’d eat the food down here later. He had time. He probably had a lot of time, luckily. He’d rather not eat it too soon anyways. Right now, he was busy giving a dog some much needed love and attention. If there was anything he hated about Andi, it was definitely how he treated Rove. He could ignore everything else, but damn it, he’d had a dog follow him around before and he couldn’t imagine how anyone managed to treat them like Andi did.
---
He was tired. He wasn’t too sure when the last time the door had opened. He almost wished that the door would just open again, that whatever was going to happen would just happen already. He almost felt like he was getting used to it. He almost wished that he wasn’t.
-
Apparently, if there was something out there, it had heard his half wishing because he heard the door opening not much long after. He almost felt like laughing at what they chose to hear, but it got caught in his throat instead. Which was probably for the best, if he were being honest. The sound of Andi’s footsteps going down the stairs was just the same as they always were when it was bound to be a worse day. Or night. Or whatever time it was whenever this shit was happening to him.
-
He shifted, trying to ignore how sore he was, trying to ignore how cold it was down here. He tried to grin when Andi’s feet came into view. Tried to, but for once, he doubted he’d managed one at all. He was tired. So damn tired. Of all of it. He closed his eyes, just for a moment. Just to try and get rid of the pressure behind them.
-
Was it even worth fighting? It didn’t do anything. Didn’t change anything. He was still stuck down here. And he was tired. Tired of being here, tired of trying, tired of everything. He’d try again next time. Start fighting again next time. But he was tired and giving in to him just this once wasn’t going to matter.
-
…The days started to blend together even more after that.
Spring 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
