Work Text:
CT-0000, newly called Zeroes, knew that what he was doing was bad, but if he was really his own vod, allowed to control his own body, to name himself and make himself, then surely he was allowed to decide whether or not it hurt. If ink was allowed, then why not scars.
Zeroes brought the knife down into his wrist and winced a little bit. It hurt, but it was nothing like what the longnecks did, and that was why he needed to do it. Needed to hurt alone in the warm dark with only the thrum of the Venator and the thumping of his heart.
He carefully began to carve zeroes into the soft flesh of his wrists, a reminder of who he was in every movement, every mark.
Zeroes didn’t know how long he stayed there in the darkness, even after he had finished the rings around both of his wrists, relief mixing with the pain. He knew who he was, he would always know who he was. Even if they tried to take Zeroes away, there would always be that reminder in his skin.
Then the door slid open and light flooded into the space.
“There you are.” Threes said, relief in his voice. He looked a little wild around the eyes. “You—what are you doing?”
“Is he okay?” Fours called. He poked his head into the closet and swore. “I’ll get a first aid kit.”
Zeroes let them bandage him up, scolding him all the while for not letting anyone know where he was going, and then he was bundled off to their bunks to be cuddled and he felt nothing but safe, safe, safe.