RANDOM STUFF THAT IM POSTING

He didn't know what came over him.

Berwald looked at the destroyed island. From the very top he watched it burn. The weight of the situation finally fell onto him. He was a murderer. He... no. He wasn't. This was Stitches' fault. It's Stitches' fault he killed Mathias. It's Stitches' fault he killed so many people while the island burned. It's Stitches' fault Tino was dead.

Tino.

Tino noticed something was off the moment he walked back in through the door.

"He wanted to stay out longer."

Right. Tino could taste lies.

Emil could too. The younger Icelandic boy stared him down at the funeral. He was onto him, that was something the Swede was awear of. Berwald tried to avoid him, but that only gave Emil more to work with.

Once Cam announced that they found his glasses near where they and Meg found Mathias, he knew he had no chance of pushing this under the rug.

He remembered the way Lukas jumped at him. He remembered Emil's angered yelling. He remembered how Meg ran inside and showed everyone what they found. He remembered...

Tino.

"Ha... no. Berwald wouldn't! He... he wouldn't hurt a fly!"
"Maybe it was someone else's glasses?"
"Maybe... it... fell out of Mathias'... pocket. Yeah..."

Tino was always sweet to him. He knew Tino wouldn't forgive him now after everything he's done. He's caused too much pain, too much suffering. He doubted Tino would ever come to terms with the fact that his childhood friend and husband killed him in the flames of Kofuku. He didn't dare to try and spot the lifeless body.

"Thank you for your help, Berwald."

Berwald wanted to rip the stuffing out of that bear, but he couldn't get himself to move.

"I'll repay you. Somehow."

And with that, he left. Berwald didn't care to ask where he was going. The warmth of the fire was comforting in some weird, twisted way. It reminded him of campfires, and all those times he and Tino would go camping together with Peter. He liked those memories. He didn't like thinking about the more recent times.

Though, someone took him out of his false sense of comfort.

"Thought I would find you here."

The Norwegian accent was one that used to calm Berwald down, but now all it does is fill him with panic and guilt. Lukas sat right beside him and pushed the glasses Berwald had sat there onto the far ground below them, shattering them.

"You really fucked up."

Berwald nodded. He knew he had. There was no point in fighting the truth.

"I really hate you; you know?"

Berwald once again nodded.

He noticed some tears filling Lukas' eyes. He wanted to hug him, to tell him everything would end up ok. But he knew those were only lies. Plus, Berwald was most definitely the last person Lukas would ever want a hug from now.

"After all the memories we all made here, you chose to do this?"

Lukas turned his head towards him with a face filled with betrayal.

"I hope you suffer a terrible death, Berwald."

Lukas stood up and left him all alone.

Lukas' words replayed in his mind like a broken record. He wanted to cry, he wanted someone to hold him, he wanted comfort, but he knew he didn't deserve it.