Plato Alternate Ending

"I'll love you forever," he smiled, laughing along with his brother as he pressed down on the hole in his stomach. It was so easy to just be swept up in this, to think of Amaimon, let his love get him through the pain. The hurt would fade, his love would not, so he clung tightly to it. Amaimon seemed to inspect his injury as he spoke lowly, checking it over. Mephisto followed his gaze and was more than happy to see that his injury was already beginning to heal up nicely. Yes, with the earth king's help he'd be fine in two or three days. "Tomorrow will be better, he agreed quietly, looking at the hole again and pressing down, finding that the bloodied wound didn't hurt quite as much anymore. He tried to talk once he had realized his mistake,
For the first time in a very long time , he didn't want to talk to Amaimon. He didn't want to interact with him. Not because he would hurt the earth King, but because he was upset at him, mad at him. It was such an odd feeling, being mad at Amaimon. But there was no denying the emotion now, he was angry. Angry because the younger had just stood and left...twice now. Had kept him from speaking, twice now. It made him feel stupid and useless and wrong. "Good," He whispered, voice betraying none of his emotions, the same as his mate's hadn't. His tears had stopped, so had his trembling. His body had seemed to settle into an eerie quiet. A calm before a storm that he wasn't sure when would come. "Fix your arms too," he commanded, not offering to do Amaimon's arms himself despite the fact that he knew it was his fault his husband was hurt "we'll sleep soon," God, did he even want to sleep in the same bed as the earth King? Right now sleeping on the couch honestly sounded better, hell even sleeping in here sounded better. He didn't care. He didn't care. He hoped Amaimon wouldn't speak to him, wouldn't say soft words, sickly sweet, fake, lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. How he hated them. He didn't want to hear Amaimon, didn't want to sleep next to him, didn't want him to even touch him,
Never ever... towards him. Not this rising heat in his stomach, not his terrible anger, this vicious, unnatural disposition. It felt wrong, and deep down he knew that, but he still grit his teeth and furrowed his brow, brooding over his mate's actions. Yet....as Amaimon shuffled through his drawers, his mind wandered....wandered back to the other him. To his fear, his panic...all those terrified emotions. But for some reason his mind seemed to linger not on his emotions during those moments, or even Amaimon's, but on the other him's. He was angry...he spat venomous words of hate. Looked at the earth King with disgust...insulted him to his face. Made their relationship out to be wrong, insinuating that they were stupid, but that the earth King was even stupider than him......Mephisto continued to stare at the wall...though now his gaze softened a touch...if he stayed this way...consumed by sudden, foolish anger...then would he become like that imposter? Would he look at the earth King with disgust....right now....the answer was most likely yes....that unsettled him...he didn't want to be like that him. The time king wanted to love and be happy...be happy with Amaimon. He didn't want to yell words of hate, didn't want to say their relationship was wrong, call Amaimon stupid. No...he didn't want any of those things, if fact he wanted quite the