41: Empthy Does not Equivilate to Compassion

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"It's not your fault," I told him. Charlie just looked at me before turning away. I look down at my form arms, the burns on both of them a haunting painting, a letter to his guilt.

I pull my sleeves down, no need to make him feel like shit for something he will never forgive himself for. We walked off, I looked over to see the others standing together, they gave me this weird look. I turn to them, staring at them.

"You're being hostile," Charlie said.

"Am I?"

"That looks hostile."

"Literally can't exist without everything I do being overanalyzed." Charlie gives me a sad smile and continues to the plane.

"You did leave a sourness in their mouth."

"I did?"

"The empathy part—"

"What? The I can't feel what other feels? Or the part where it makes me inhuman?" I ask Charlie, "They Equivalate feeling "empathy" to feeling sorry for the homeless person on the street, to the stray animals, to the wounded veterans left to rot by their government." I storm past him.

"They equivalate Empathy to Compassion to consideration, to kindness. It is not!" I groan I hate this conversation, "Neurotypical people need to feel something to care, it needs to disturb them enough to do something. I swear they don't have morals or a sense of justice."

"Is that really how you see us?" I look over to see a pretty upset Gaz.

"Yes," I walk down to him, "If you're not paid to care you don't, you wouldn't give a dog's ass if someone has a fake service dog, or faking cancer, you wouldn't care if a child dies from cholera in Africa!"

"And you do?"

"Unfortunately, I have a strong sense of justice, so yes, yes I do!" I push my hair away from my face. They look a little shocked.

"That sounds like empathy."

"It is not that is called compassion!" I correct with passion. I hate this comparison; I hate it with every fiber of my being.

"Let me ask you, do you need to feel sexual desire to love someone?" I ask all of them. They all nod.

"Ya don't!" I snap at them, "What you need, is love! Romantic intent, not sex, not lust! You don't need that, of course, you want it, but you don't need it for a healthy relationship." I correct.

"If you all truthfully think, empathy, sexual desire, romantic desire, or fear, that makes you human you are sorely mistaken! There are hundreds of normal people out there lacking one or more of these traits. Stop dehumanizing me because I don't fit your little mold of normality. You don't need to pity me, I'm not a fucking child!" I snap before storming inside anger boiling in my chest.

I wanted to punch one of them, to hit them as hard as I could. I wanted to beat them to a bloody pulp. I let out a long sigh and let my shoulder sag, I closed my eyes and sat down. Sometimes I wish I was born back in the 1800s as a man so I could beat people up all I want. This crippling anger the one I spent years trying to hold back would not go away. I sat done and pulled out my headphones trying to drown out the monster I drowned.

ᔕᔕᔕ≼∴≽ᔕᔕᔕ

"Geez," Soap mumbles watching her figure leaves. Her eyes held contentment, anger, unjust really. "What a bitch."

"We were just making sure she was okay," Gaz groans, the others nod.

"She doesn't like being perceived."

"What the hell does that mean?" Price asks.

"Autism thing, but she likes it when people don't have an opinion of her or an opinionless view of her. She likes to flow through life being forgettable and with little attention." They all stared at him dumbly before looking back at where she walked off to.

"You do realize she's like a really beautiful person? Right?" Soap states.

"I do but she's kind of face blind."

"Kind of?" Ghost repeats.

"She knows if you're looking at her sexually or not," Charlie mutters.

"She does?" A cold chill ran down their spine.

"Yeah, she can recognize flirting."

"I thought those with autism can't really recognize emotions?" Gaz mutter.

"It's a spectrum man, 9/10 she knows the emotion or at least cognitively; however, 2/10 she can react to it appropriately." The others nodded, but it was still shocking information.

"So, if I say flirt with her, she will pick it up?"

"No, you have to repeatedly flirt with her, establish a pattern she can pick up." The others nod.

"Why is she so... angry?"

"Well, besides not being on medication, her lack of sleep is making her meaner." The others nod.

"Brat behavior." Ghost mumbles mostly to himself.

"Don't let your tired ass hear you, she will absolutely bitch your ears off." Charlie tease.

ᔕᔕᔕ≼∴≽ᔕᔕᔕ

That sounded like an actual nightmare to Simon. Like an absolute nightmare. She had a nice voice, but sometimes it came off as whiny, bratty really. She sat there silently a little away from everyone else, a sphere of space around her. Ghost on and off looked at her. Occasionally she walks around phone in hand, maybe talking with others before vanishing back to her little world.

König watched her. She was tapping away, head slightly nodding, eyes glued to her phone. From the way she's staring clearly reading something. From her reaction, she must be bored. She's truly beautiful, for someone who's gonna look like she's going to pass out at any moment. She looked so tired, a little crazy... She looks kind of hot...

One by one almost everyone fell asleep. Soap was the first to fall asleep, Then Roach, and finally Gaz and Charlie. Soap fell asleep against Charlie's right shoulder. Roach lay in his lap, and Gaz leaned against Soap.

ᔕᔕᔕ≼∴≽ᔕᔕᔕ

The smut was... Descent. It was one of those stories my mentally ill girlies said I should read. I prefer fanfic smut, those are toe-curling. I didn't care for the characters. I turn off my phone, eyes blurry too much to read. I look over...

"Cozy," I mumble. I walked over to them and took a few photos.

"What are you doing?" Price grunts.

"Future blackmail material." His brow arches his brow. "They look so cute."

"Their soldiers."

"They're going to be pookiefied soon," I tell him.

"What?" All three of them said at once.

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