Work Text:
He was sitting next to a pond, watching as a frog swam its way between sea weeds.
It was the middle of the night, the moon was high in the sky, carefully placed amongst the stars, comets and galaxies, lighting this pond in the middle of the woods, this pond he was sitting next to, this pond in which a neon green frog swam.
The frog was a bit unusual, and by that he meant bigger than normal frogs ( trust him, he has been sitting there looking at frogs for a while now), and had eyes round like glassy balls.
He liked the frog's company. Since he was always at that pond, he didn't see much people.
( he could move away and explore now but why would he do that who would want to see him who would remember him why bother why why why)
He breathed heavily, trying to calm himelf. Fuck. Panic attacks were a new thing to which he was not used dealing with. His vision was spinning, and it felt like he was dying. At least he knew this sensation, he died twice at this point. Third time's the charm. Maybe this time he'l die for good.
And no one would mourn him, who once was chaos and disaster at a single touch, who-
He felt a slimy texture on his hand, and heard a guttural sound.
He tried to localise it. Maybe it was the thing who grabbed his hand ? He felt the hand (it was small, but with concertation, he felt it was one) making circles on his hand, avoiding the cristals that grew out of it.
When his vision stopped spinning, and his lungs stopped screaming (god, he misses being Solaris), he saw it was the flashy frog from earlier, who seemed to have a look of pain in their eyes.
The frog cared for him.
The frog, one of thousands of others, went out of their way to help him, the shell of a broken god.
And in this world where he didn't exist, in this world that had gone on without him, in this world where he was nothing but a cristallised, shivering hedgehog, holding a neon frog;
Mephiles swore he would kill for that kindness, and the frog who gave it to him.