(A/N: This fanfiction contains a depiction of an emotional meltdown and heavy self-deprecation, and references to abuse and attempted murder. Reader discretion is advised.

This takes place immediately after the events of Episode 4.

Also if Charlie seems OOC it's because I projected onto him so-)

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  The night air was cold and silent, save for the distant sounds of the crumbling Moon.

  Blue and Pink said nothing; an unusual occurrence for both of them. They simply stared at Charlie, peering at him with their empty, dark purple eyes. They didn't seem angry, in spite of their plans being ruined; rather, they mostly seemed taken aback, which was definitely a first, at least from Charlie's point of view.

  Charlie didn't say anything either. He didn't really have anything he could say. He was still trying to process what in God's name just happened. Averting his gaze from the eyes that made him so uncomfortable, he looked up at the Moon- or, what remained of it, at least.

  It was in complete ruin, having been blown into pieces by the bomb that Blue and Pink had planted. Smoke poured out of every crack and chasm, and the sky was left darker than before.

  And Charlie had almost gone down right with it.

  The realization finally set in, and his stomach twisted until it could no longer contort itself.

  Under most normal circumstances, Charlie would have absolutely had a word or two for his associates. It would be justified, would it not? They'd just attempted to murder him, and destroyed the entire friggin' Moon in the process.

  Somehow, he found that in the moment, he just couldn't say a thing. The words drifted in vague snippets in his head, not forming any kind of fully realized thoughts. Even if they were coherent sentences, though, he wouldn't have been able to get them out of his mouth anyways. He just couldn't.

  Blue looked over at Pink. "So, uh...... see ya in about a week or so, probably..." they mumbled with far less vigor than usual. "Yeah, let's all just... go on home now..." Pink added as both other unicorns began to float off. "Byeeeeee again, Charlieeeeee... sorry you almost dieeeeeeeed......" called Blue awkwardly before they both disappeared.

  Starfish, who was in a bloodied mess on the grass, attempted to pick himself up after seemingly having been flung down to Earth all the way from the Moon. He seemed to be in incredible pain, likely both from the impact and the fact that most of his skin had been burned off. (It would later occur to Charlie, once his head was clearer, how miraculous it was that Starfish hadn't died immediately after... all of that.)

  "My love..." the sea star croaked out, his tired voice cracking. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you on accident?" Charlie took a second to process, and then shook his head "no". Starfish visibly relaxed. "That's a relief," he responded. "I'm terribly sorry that all of this happened... it's dreadful, really, I know," he continued as he finally managed to peel his last two legs off of the ground. Charlie's eyes were fixed on the ground to his right. There was a silence between the two until Starfish eventually spoke again. "...Would you like me to stay for a while, or shall I go?"

  As much as he would never admit it out loud, Charlie normally ached for the company of anyone who didn't wish to hurt him. Right now, though, more than anything, he needed space.

  "....I need to be alone," he mumbled quietly, still rather dissociated. Starfish nodded in understanding. "Very well. Whatever it is you need, Corazón. I'm just happy that you're safe and sound," he assured the unicorn. He then managed to stabilize himself, and began floating off as well. "Take care, Charlie! I love you forever!" he cried distantly. Charlie hummed in acknowledgement.

  A minute or so passed where Charlie just stood in place. He felt so numb. So terribly, painfully numb. His mind was buzzing. His lungs felt like they had stopped working properly. He couldn't move. All he could do was think, and think, he did.

...Really, he thought, he should have seen that coming at some point, right? They had already stolen all of his personal belongings and several of his body parts, so it should have been natural progression. Somehow, though, he never thought they'd go that far. It just seemed so far out of their wheelhouse. They were creepy and violent, but the idea that they genuinely wanted him dead seemed unthinkable for some reason.

  They did care about Charlie on some level, didn't they? They only said so a billion times. Sure, it was likely in jest, but it couldn't be entirely a lie. After all, they were his sort-of-friends. They hurt him and mocked him and made him feel even worse than he usually did, but they were friends at the end of the day.

  They were only people in his life that were really constant, and they were his friends. His annoying, childish friends who dragged him on pointless, nonsensical adventures.  His friends that he wouldn't admit that he cared for. Weren't they?

  ...Of course they weren't. That was obvious. Anyone with eyes could see it.

  They were just terrible people with bad intentions, looking for someone to string along and then eventually throw away. That was made clear enough.

  Charlie knew that. He knew all along. In spite of it, though, he had just held onto this stupid hope; quite possibly the only hope he ever had for anything.

  All because he was lonely.

  He didn't have friends. He didn't have anyone. He was a complete idiot to think otherwise.

  He was just an idiot.

  He muttered it to himself, almost in scolding. 

  "...Idiot." 

  It came off of his tongue and cut into his chest. Everything felt too loud and too quiet all at once.

 He said it again.

  "Idiot."

  He felt like he was being burned from the inside.

  His mind was being cluttered with the word, etched with a bitterness and fury.

  It consumed his every thought. It was the only word he had.

  He said it yet again.

  "Idiot."

  And again.

  "Idiot."

  And again.

  "IDIOT."

  His eyes burned. His body shook.

  He felt like he was about to break down into pieces any second.

  And he said it again.

  "IDIOT!"

   He stopped consciously trying to say it.

  It just all came out, like everything inside of him had been boiling inside and was finally being released.

  "IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT, I D I O T !"

  He rammed one of his hooves into the ground a few times, smashing the grass underneath it.

  Once his tongue could no longer keep up with the word, he paused for only a second, and he just screamed.

  He screamed in pain, in anger, and in sorrow. He screamed loud enough for the whole forest to hear. His voice cracked in breathlessness.

  Then he was quiet.

  His breathing was quick and heavy. Everything ached far worse than usual.

  He collapsed to the ground, falling on his legs and stomach. He remained silent, as though everything he had inside him had just been emptied out.

  Then, after he had caught his breath and calmed his anger, just a bit, he began to cry.

  Charlie didn't cry often. In fact, he often struggled to, even when in pain. However, all of a sudden, he just couldn't stop it.

  He let it out in short, tired sobs. In stark contrast to his previous outburst, it wasn't all too loud. Likely, there wasn't really anyone around anymore, yet he seemed to be making some kind of subconscious effort to keep himself as quiet as possible. More likely than anything, it was a learned response.

  He lied there for quite a while, his grief dripping out of his eyes and seeping into the already wet grass and soil.

  Eventually, after he had cried everything out, he lied there still for at least another half hour before he passed out from exhaustion.

-

 Charlie woke up a few hours later, dreary and blank. His tears had dried to his face, leaving it cold. He lied in place for a minute or two, then sighed heavily and lifted himself up off the ground. Technically, he didn't really have a home, but he might as well make his way back to where he usually hung around, since he felt more secure there. 

  He didn't really have a plan for once he got there. He didn't need to sleep anymore, and it was still too dark out to really do anything. Mostly, he wanted to just move on from what happened, at least for a little while.

  Once more, he looked up at the sky. The remains of the Moon had stopped burning so much, and the sky seemed a bit clearer. It was very dim, lit only by the distant stars. He looked away after a moment; he didn't want to think about Blue and Pink right now.

  Despite that, though, he couldn't help but wonder when they'd show up again. Hopefully not soon, though if Blue's words were accurate, a week sounded about right.

  Not that Charlie could do anything to stop the cycle, anyways.