Archive of Our Own

The star burned.

It burned and burned, and he just watched. Watched as it started to grow, and watched as it caved in on itself, watched as it started to explode. But the sight didn't scare him, it didn't scare him at all. No feeling of fright, distress. Well….not yet.

Instead, It gave him a feeling of power. (In reality it hurts)

It takes his attention above anything else. (He can hear their desperate screams.)

It made him feel worthy. (Worthy of rotten honor.)

He must continue. (He must stop.)

He takes the dying star in his grip. The once powerful and grand magic it held, lighting the nearby planets, radiating pure magic, bold and bright. And it's dimming down, faster and faster.

(What are you doing?)

He doesn't feel anything, how it's supposed to be, how it always was. His chest feels dry, it feels void of the feelings he once knew. And then, once he starts to feel, he keeps it down. But he doesn't feel satisfied.

(Why can't he?)

The limb curls, tight, and tighter. Like how He felt his chest grow tighter, but should he care? It wouldn't matter.

(Stop it.)

He can feel it collapsing, the pressure he's giving out, and the gases fusing together. The magic thrashing out against him, the temperature rising higher and higher. His own magic encouraged it.

(Stop.)

He kept going. It felt so small in his grip, so little. and burning so hard. Just like how he felt so small, among these stars, and yet he's capable of destroying each and everyone of them. Once they grow older and as the magic grows chaotic...

(Please.)

They scream, so desperately. They Bent their knees or whatever lower limb they had. they raged at him, they told him to leave, stop, don't do that. But that doesn't matter. Their screams would end soon enough. Either when they stop as they lose what little hope they have left. Or when they die along with the stars that sustain them.

(You're hurting them.)

The star dimmed. They begged him to stop. Parents, children, even distant beggars from the once living inhabitants of those planets.

(No.)

And eventually, it dies.

He remembers how the heat rushed past him, grazing his face and his cloak rushing behind him. The excess energy flowing everywhere, most rushed past while the rest left circling around him. Every inch of His vision is fully covered in blaring lights, surrounding him.

Sometimes the people survive, sometimes they don't.

Sometimes he felt nothing, sometimes it was too much.

What was he doing again?

How long was he going to keep this up? How long was this going to continue?

...How long does he have to partake in this?

He blinks. And the light fades.

What have you done?

"What I've always done."

And the cold embrace of the abyss envelops him.

The darkness captivated him.
.

.

.

.

Where is he?

It's dark. Even the abyss had some semblance of light there. This place has.. None.

And yet, he can still see the ground.

Hold on, ground?

The monster looked down and saw a surface, not like anything he stood upon before.

What color is it? For some reason he doesn't know.

Why is he here, why would he be here? He did what he's supposed to.

He destroyed it, it collapsed right before him, what else was he missing?

What did he do wrong this time, because what else would cause him to end up here.

Was it his mind? Was there something wrong with that?

The subtle statics were all he could hear, it reminded him of the sounds he would hear when he's all alone. Whenever he's…..he.. Isn't...

Forgetting…?

"Remember,"

The monster stilled, and turned quickly to meet the voice. It wasn't there. It wasn't from behind him, or beside him.

It sounded scattered, but it's everywhere.

He knows that voice, he remembers who it is. God,

he wished he didn't know who it was.

His soul's rate picked up and ran faster. His body turned around in all sorts of directions, hoping to find the source of the voice. But he never could, it always came from somewhere else.

It's him.

"My son.."

His eyes widened and he spun to the voice echoing behind him, it wasn't all darkness this time.

A figure, as tall, if not taller than him. Their eyes wide and glowing with a magenta color. Eyes vaguely like his, and yet, so very different.

He remembers how those eyes analyzed him, judged him. He could always feel them staring, no matter where he was, even if he couldn't see it. Cold and calculating.

and now, it's right here in front of him.

He never once thought to feel positive when his fathers eyes were placed on him.

He hears a clack.

The figure steps closer, and the slow static grows louder, furious. As if it's anger is directed towards him, as if he did something wrong.

as if-

He would try to take a step back but see that his movements are locked in place. No matter how much he pleaded his body to move, push him away, get him away from us

He stood still. as his soul grows agitated, his eyes wide, as if frozen by fear.

He feels so cold, so…

He could feel his legs start to freeze in place, kept in place by something. He looked down towards the ground and found that the surface he was on started to melt and climb up his legs.

The figure still walking towards him, the static starts to get deafening.

He tries to pull out his legs but the melted surface just holds on his legs tighter, and tighter, he's surprised his legs haven't broken yet.

He tried to yank his leg out by force, try to command his limbs to get him out, he tried everything and nothing is working.

He looked back towards the front and the slow feeling of dread appeared when he saw the figure was not in front of him anymore.

Star turned all around, desperate to find the figure before they could do anything to him. To make them stop, don't. To make them leave him alone, but to no luck, he could never find that figure in his vision anywhere.

But then.

He could hear the voice behind him, staticky and loud. It made him want to shrink down and collapse but there was nothing he could do.

(Do something.)

'I can't'

"Remember,"

'Remember? No, no, no, i-'

(I don't want to.)

Just leave him be.

He wanted to lash out, he wanted to sprint out of this trap and run for his life. He didn't want to stay here with that. It's terrifying, it hurts him, he's angry. He wants the figure to leave.

"The order…"

'What order?'

'What….'

'no...No,no,nononoNONONO-'

"must be kept in balance."

.
.
.

"I don't want to hurt them anymore."

He woke up with a start.

His chest thrashed with violent emotions, ones that he would normally keep in bounds. But this time, the feeling was so sickening, he felt so nauseous, his chest rising and lowering so fast, he thought he'd break his ribcage when his soul kept pulsing so hard.

So agitated.

So scared.

He wants to scream, he'd felt fear before but not as much as this. It wasn't fear of violence but fear of returning.

Or was it anger? The raging fire felt so bound to the cutting feeling of dread. It felt so different, but to him it feels all the same. And so, he never knew.

The thing is, he doesn't want to know, he doubts he ever will.

His vision was so blurred he could barely make out what was in front of him, it's dark, but not as much as the place he remembered.

He just sat there, cross legged and head held close to his chest, holding himself close. His once hidden eyes cracked wide open, along with many tentacle-like limbs, the way it sways like flowing ribbon, it looks so limp but the thrashing movements make gusts of wind that even knock down..something, on..a desk? He vaguely somewhat remembers these limbs, ones he used to destroy, and what he used to create.

But Star didn't know that.

He just knew it was cold.

It was cold, but he could feel some semblance of warmth. Maybe it was because he wrapped his arms around himself, like some pathetic form of a hug. Trying to keep himself calm before he-

His iris lit up, a violet glow scattered around his environment. He could make out a few things, but he could never be sure if he was right.

Star's eyes darted around the room, in a panic. His breath quickened, faster and faster. He feels as if he lost his breath, He didn't- couldn't figure out how to deal with this place, where is he now?

All he noticed was the dark walls and the dimly lit light near him, blurring in and out of his vision. And there's something- moving around him, some wrapping around him, some lashing everywhere outside of it. But it was- is it- his limbs?

He noticed sounds of creaking, and soft.. Bedding? Under him, distant frantic steps and an opening door-

Wait,

"..doo-…?" the word barely came out. sounding so scratchy and low. His voice sounded so small and so weak. Was he sure it was his? He didn't sound so bold but- so...subtle.

He could see a figure, the bright light behind it giving Star a silhouette of sorts, their features barely lit by the dim room. And yet he could see their figure, so much smaller than the one he remembered. He doesn't want to-

Most of what he's hearing was static, pure panic converted into white noise. It was all he could notice, but the figure's voice somehow broke through. And they sound so recognizable, so still in the chaos he felt, a comforting feeling.

So...familiar..

Star couldn't hear the voice's words. He couldn't move himself, his limbs were off pilot, he couldn't control it.

The figure's movements were erratic, as if they were dodging something, as if they were against something.. Bad? he could feel trembles along the wall and the bedding he sat upon, Was this his doing?-

'But...they're...I- I shouldn't...do this..'

He wasn't paying attention to the figure, as the next time his vision blurred back in, the figure was right in front of him. But the face wasn't shadowed anymore, he could see the… His face.

He recognizes that tired look, the ones he found whenever he sees them working so hard, where it was late at night and they would argue with him, trying to convince him to stay up late.

whenever he sees them gaze at him fondly as he rambles off about his interests, Even though they didn't know what most of them were called. They asked about it anyway.

the dark color under their worried eyes. Ones made out of restless nights and stressful work. Ones that always seemed prominent when they rested.

The ones he deeply wanted to rid of the younger, ones he grew to care about.

And their eyes, ones he often saw solemnly, pale white. Like the stars he often saw nearing its end. Their supply of hydrogen and magic lowered drastically.

And their pale color is what remained.

But now? It glows and the pale color wasn't the one that emanates.

It glows so bright.

Glowing golden, Glowing dimmer.

It's…it... Was Wing... Ding?.

Wingding, it was… Wingding! That was their name.. Right?

"Star!?"

Star? But his name isn't… His name…?

"What-" his now recognizable friend's muffled sounding voice called out, Star couldn't hear it too clearly, his voice muffling over and over. But Wingding was calling out...his name.

He's worried, why does he sound so worried?

Star snapped out of his short daze when he felt a shaky hand start to cradle his face, and another laid firmly on his shoulder. His tendrils were swaying everywhere, trying to find the source of his panic.

Unfortunately it locked on the wrong thing.

His eyes were all wide, his lower set darting all across the room, searching for the cause of his erratic feeling, despite it's shaken look. But then it focused on a fast moving object, flung to his right, and sounding a heavy thud.

Star didn't process the situation before it already happened, but then he realized the one he saw was his friend's body flying across the room. In their place around his vision was….his-.....a... Limb?

Did it….did h-..it.. Just..

"I-..no, no no no, don't- i don't want to hurt them anymore, don't hurt him, i didn't mean to, i-" Star pathetically murmured to himself. Even most of those sentences are just shaky breaths, meant to be words.

Star couldn't help but notice his voice sounded so raspy and so subtle, since when was the bold and collected tone he had turned to this?

He turned his eyes towards Wingding's direction, but no matter how much his eyes looked, he couldn't find Wingding. Despite the obvious mark on the wall, he can't see Wingding's body, where? He was flung over the other bed wasn't he? Then where-

He heard a thud and His eyes snapped back towards the door. Specifically near the rim of the door.

He saw a figure trying so hard to avoid...the….limbs, dodging...as if in a battle, their movements seemed so rigid, maybe held back by something. Star saw them trying so hard to reach him but his limbs kept on fighting them off, but he didn't.. How… He can't.. See..

And then in a second he sees the figure charging towards him. He didn't think he was prepared.

Star shut his eyes tightly. Waiting for.. Something. Anything.

And then he felt something flowing, it's not forceful as he first thought it was, but it was flowing around him.

Star was shaking, despite that his eyes opened slightly, and looked downwards slightly and saw a bright piece of magic, his soul. That was...is...his soul..?

He saw how it vibrated, visibly shaken, the magic flowing out in a state of chaos. But it was kept in place by another set of magic. Rather than the pale white his soul was emanating, he saw soft golden magic flowing around his soul. Trying desperately to keep it stable.

He saw Wingding filling half of his vision, in front of him, and slightly to his right. One leg on the bed, and the other supporting him on the floor. He felt both of Wingding's hands on his shoulder, very pressured as if Star was used as a pillar of support for Wingding.

He still had the flowing magic in his vision, Star squinted trying to block out the magic's bright light and what he saw under them was a steady hand, not attached to anything, but it seemed to radiate magic too.

Star felt the bed shift And then he felt arms surrounding his torso, and around his crossed arms. And something...a.. Hand..? Cradling the back of his head. He was feeling himself getting wrapped into a hug, a very warm hug.

So very warm, contrasting the cold he felt just moments before, he doesn't know how to feel about it.

At first he didn't.. Think, he was.. Safe... Safety, was what he felt.

And then his disbelief showed.

Eyes softening, irises like pinpricks, visibly unstable magic displayed by it.

He was thinking of the unfamiliar gesture. Certainly not something Wingding would usually do.

Is this….Wingding's magic? Why would he? Wouldn't it….take a lot out of him..? He doesn't understand why he would..

Star halted that train of thought, eyes softening even further as his irises dilated. Easing into the embrace. The warmth comforting him.

It may be unusual. But he's not opposed to it. He's not opposed to it… At all..

He didn't understand why, but it felt nice. The magic felt so warm, and warmth was what he sought, right?

Star slowly adapted into the magic, his grip around himself slackened, and his limbs swayed slower and slower. He can breathe, he can-.. he…

it doesn't feel cold anymore.

Rather.. It felt.. Warm. It felt so warm compared to that dark space he was in. Like the warmth he thought he would feel when he's happy.

Star's soul vibrates slower, as he takes in slow, shaky breaths. His tentacles swayed slower, as they felt Star's slowing breaths.

He could still hear Wingding's voice.

Muffled, but so loud.

He sounds so worried, it sounds like he's panicking horribly.

Stars, it makes him feel horrible.

He could feel Wingding's grip around him tighten. Star sucked a deep breath, hoping his breathing would slow and calm down.

His irises still darted around now and then. He was still paranoid of threats, apparently. But as he slowly takes in the comfort, he starts to think.

He wanted to know if it was really wingding there, was he imagining this? Was he actually alone? Or is he really there... He doesn't know.

He wants to know.

And so he did.

Star let go of his grip around himself and started to slowly wrap his shaking arms around the body in front of him, wanting to feel the secureness and warmth he received before. That was all.. He just… Wanted to feel..

His head felt so full all of a sudden, and his chest felt tight. His hands gripping desperately on fabric, his body curling into itself.

Star felt his eyes warm up, and then his cheeks. He realized there were streaks of magic flowing down his face.

No.

No,no,nonono-

His throat felt like it's closed shut, and his head hurts, God it hurts, he wants to puke he wants to make it go away. And then his chest starts hurting. It feels like something is sitting on it, like the vacuum of space just decided to appear in his chest. What feels like streaks of heat just pouring down his face. His throat closing up, his arms and legs aching from the emotion.

Everything feels so hot, it burns him, his throat feels so dry and it feels like fire. His eyes closed shut, the magic won't stop pouring out, and it's thrashing, it wants out and it feels so hot. He wants to cry, sob even, he doesn't want to feel like this, he-

a pause.

And Star starts to sob.

At first it sounded so quiet, so subtle.

And then another, slightly louder. And another, and another. And now he's sobbing so much, ringing was all he could hear. His chest feels so full but so empty and he can't keep calm anymore. He just wants to let it out, please, let him breathe, let him-

Star's body shook. His body curving down, and his head pressing against Wingding's chest. His hands curling into fists taking the fabric he gripped along with it. His shoulders felt tense and it ached. So much. Everything aches. Everything hurts.

It hurts, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to speak, he can't think. He just wants it to go away, all of it, please, go away-

And now his breaths are laced with hiccups, and sharp breaths each few seconds. Trying so hard to keep his sobs as quiet as possible.

But then, Star could feel the hold on the back of his head get tense and one wrapping around his torso, he was pulled closer near the body as his head pushed closer against Wingding's chest and their arms wrapping around his body tighter, keeping him in place.

He grew stiff, expecting the sudden feeling to hurt him in some way, any way.

But then, after the few notes of silence. He starts to fall limp at the touch, his hands grip tightly around the thick fabric, desperately trying to keep the warmth near him. He's rarely felt something like this, so comforting, so close to him. Star never thought he'd be worthy of such things.

He could feel his limb's erratic behavior numb down, swaying softly, eventually grew still, and slowly dissipate into magic that circled his soul, along with his lower set of eyes.

His breathing wasn't as fast anymore, but he still hiccupped now and then. His voice strained against his breaths and his breaths pressured against his chest. All he does is pull the body of his friend closer, still scared, scared that Wingding wasn't really there and he's still in that dark place.

He doesn't know yet, but just feeling Wingding's grip on him grow tighter, it makes him feel okay. It's okay, Star can feel his grip, he can-... Feel.. It..

Star can feel Wingding stroking the back of his head, rubbing circles on his back and whispering something he couldn't really understand, but that's okay. At least Star can hear his voice, that tired sounding voice. He could feel Wingding right there, that he's real and not some twisted part of his mind giving him false hopes.

Knowing that, Star's grip around Wingding grew slightly tighter, and it was apparent that the younger noticed, because his own grip around Star became gentler and Star could feel his magic slowly change from flowing around his soul, into guiding his magic into steady magic, allowing his emotions flow along with it as he calms himself from the panic.

Star took a breath, and another, and another. Until he can breathe properly, until he can.. Breathe.

He's fine with this, he truly is. His chest doesn't feel as heavy, his eyes grew heavy but he had no intention of sleeping again. Not after that.

The silence stretched for what felt like hours, although he was certain it was probably only a handful of minutes. Throughout that silence, all he could hear was Wingding's voice, whispering to him. He doesn't bother to understand what Wingding is saying, at least he feels comfort from it.

But then he felt his face be lifted up, albeit only slightly, and Wingding's face filled his vision. He could feel Wingding's thumbs wiping his tear streaks off of his face, the excess magic already wasted on the sheets. But he let his head shift its weight onto Wingding's palm, feeling their magic that was used for stabilizing his own.

"...Star? What…?-" Wingding muttered down to Star's slightly trembling form. His own shadowing Star's hunched over body, his cheek pressed against Wingding's palm.

Star wanted to answer, he really did, but his heaving chest and the fact that his voice felt so restrained, hiccups interrupting his breaths, like if even a mutter came out he would throw up all over.

But he replied with what he had anyway.

"....ah-" A hiccup interrupted his muffled voice, despite that, he didn't want to leave his friend with an empty reply, even if it's just a noise.

"..m-..mhmn..?" Star could hear the noise he made riddled with stutters, it wasn't even a sentence.

Hearing the forced reply, Wingding let his palm fall down to Star's own hands, unwrapped from his figure, and rubbed circles on the back of Star's shaky hands with his thumb, hoping to let Star feel him there.

Star, on the other hand, felt disappointed that the warmth he felt on his cheek was now gone, but he didn't mind the comforting gesture he felt on his hands. His hands felt so cold before, and now it had something dear to hold.

"Hey, hey," Wingding softly mumbled to the older, "Come on now, keep calm, alright? Someone's here, they-..I'm going to help you,"

"You can see me right? I'm right here. We're right here."

Star looked up, hearing Wingding's voice so...soft wasn't what he expected, but he didn't mind it.

"You know that, right?"

"i-" Star's voice halted, sucking a sharp breath.

"Ye.. Yeah, i- i can, you're... Not fake.."

He could see Wingding's eyes narrow, soften, even. And he felt Wingding's magic slowly dissipate. Even though Star didn't want the feeling to go away, he couldn't help but feel guilty for wanting more of it. He knew Wingding was tired too, possibly even more than he is.

"Star? I-.." Wingding sighed, closing his eyes shut for a few seconds, before groaning. His grip slackened around Star.

"That…" He sighed, "was unexpected, didn't think something like that would happen tonight-," Wingding averted his gaze away from Star, still rubbing circles on his back, reassuring him from the sudden panic.

Star stared up at the younger, and his jaw tightened. seeing how his usual moody eyes look so...worried, and.. Stressed.

It made him feel bad for wanting to see the opposite, even though he knew Wingding had every reason to be upset and worried. He just doesn't like that expression on the younger.

"Before I say anything else though, I wanted to ask" Wingding turned his irises back towards Star, locking eyes with him, his tired eyes analyzing Star's face.

Somehow, Star doesn't like that look.

"What…." He could hear Wingding swallow a lump in his throat, before taking a breath and asking,

"what.. was that?"

With just that, Star grew silent.

That's right, he never told Wingding, had he?

Star immediately lowered his head, his own palms stiff, and Wingding noticed. Star is uncertain if Wingding's question is a good reaction. If Star had told him, what would he think?

Star kept silent, his head kept down. Wingding sat there, locked in his position, looking down on Star while waiting for his response, anything. Star on the other hand, hesitated heavily, contemplating Wingding's reaction.

Will he be cautious of him now? become cold towards him?

And even though Star didn't want to consider it, it was still a possibility,

Avoid.. Him..?

"...Mn.. I-" Star tried to reply.

He restrained himself, he didn't want to answer. Feeling that if he did, Wingding would look at him differently. And Star didn't like the idea

Wingding and him had built such a close friendship, one that Star rarely had, if he ever did. And to ruin all of that? That would really hurt Star.

Wingding noticed the way Star reacted, his own irises darting all over Star, trying to see what was wrong with him. Trying to find something to fix, to make it better.

That's what Wingding is good at, right?

Wingding eventually slackened and muttered down to Star, retracting his arm to take a hold of his shoulder,

"i-...you know.." Wingding rubbed circles against Star's shoulder, reassuring him,

"you don't have to tell."

Star halted, his head slightly lifting, confused and worried eyes staring at Wingding,

"...what-..?"

"You don't have to answer that" Wingding sighed, rubbing his head, like a headache had just surfaced, "I was just-..surprised."

Star...didn't like how that sounded, but he couldn't say anything, he knew he would have to tell Wingding eventually, but...he's...unprepared this time. And.. Uncertain...

Star could feel the bed shift, down to the right of his slackened form, feeling the warmth move away towards there. Wingding adjusted his position, both legs on the floor, head turned away from Star.

Star thought it was an awful reaction, so he just lowered his head, feeling like scolding himself. How could he have lost it like that? Should Star have told Wingding?, he should've-

".. Mmngh.."

Star perked up, and turned his head towards the groan, and saw how Wingding was rubbing his shoulder and neck. Star took a few seconds to assume it was from his….the attack when Wingding was thrown across the room.

"Well," he heard Wingding mutter.

"Whatever that was," Wingding stood up, and turned around towards Star, "It can throw-"

Star blinked, staring at the sheepish and pain-laced expression he was presented with.

"Hard." Wingding chuckled slightly, although Star could see that he was clutching his shoulder pretty hard.

Wingding? trying to lighten the mood? Unusual night.

"You know, I.. think it'll be better if I fix this before I….we, talk."

Star kept silent, his stare pointed towards Wingding.

The person in question stared back, shifting in their place, the silence passing…

Before sighing and stepping towards Star.

Star perked slightly, slightly curious.

And then Wingding patted Star softly, letting his hand stay on Star's head for a few seconds, him wilting underneath the touch, but lifted up again after Wingding pulled his hand away, and took one step towards the door.

"I-...I'll be in the lab, just.. Trying to see if I can.. Make the ache feel better." Wingding sighed, taking another step, this time away from Star, and towards the door.

Star felt his panic rise again, he knew and had told himself it'd be fine, but he doesn't want the only person here to leave, please don't leave-

Wingding heard a rapid creak from the bed, and felt something grasping his arm, tight and scared.

He jolted, the ache running through his left arm, from the shoulders to the base of his palm. Like needles and large gashes of pain running through it. And he yelped, but held in the pain to instead, focus on whatever was grasping his arm, and so tightly.

Wingding turned his head towards Star, who was standing up, his posture looking stiff, and brows furrowed, mouth turning to a thin line. His other arm partially gripping the sheets, eyes wide and worried, but for what? Wingding doesn't know.

"W-.. Wait, hold on, don't-" Star stammered, sucking a breath before forcing out a sentence, "Don't go yet, I-..I don't want to be alone"

He eyed the taller skeleton, his head filled with thoughts, thinking silently to himself.

Usually Star would be okay with being alone for a while, it's not like he's going to leave forever. But this night seemed different, Star isn't.. Like how he usually is? Definitely not the calm and collected Star he usually sees.

Wingding doesn't know the correct word for it, but he knows it's true.

Wingding held his words, scanning Star's expression, uncertain. Before letting out a tired sigh and muttering, "Alright,"

Star's posture straightened slightly, eyeing the shorter skeleton.

"You can come with me, i don't mind," Wingding used his other arm, rubbing Star's shoulder, although his own is aching severely. He can ignore the pain for now, he always does.

"It'd be nice having company at night anyway" he shrugged.

Star stared at Wingding for a while, before slackening his grip on Wingding's arm. Which Wingding is very thankful for, and followed him when he started to walk towards the door, gripping at his own shirt, like a scared toddler, Star didn't think much about it.

He'll remember tomorrow.

Star and Wingding walked beside each other, along the barely lit hallway. Star thought it'd be brighter, as his eyes darted around slowly, along the walls. Barely decorated, plain and pale colors. Not many paintings along it.

His eyes drifted towards a door, the other bedroom. The one where Swap and B slept.

He had thought he saw the room's lighting turn brighter, and second guessed himself when he turned to the hallway, and the light stayed dim. But he guessed that he was only hallucinating that light.

Just like any other light he thought he had found.

Star's surprised that the others haven't woken up to the noise, Wingding said that it was night right? Probably 1-2 am.

Star continued to stare at the walls, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of guilt and and the pang of loneliness right after he felt that slight warmth and Wingding along with it, disappearing from beside him,

Star heard a click and turned his head to the front, an opened door, where Wingding had entered, the lab they worked in.

Star hastily walked towards the door, the light from the room casting onto the dark hallway, a bright silhouette of the door's shape on the floor. His eyes squinted at the bright light, blinking slightly before finally adjusting to the environment. Hearing a skid nearby, he thinks that it was Wingding sitting on a chair.

The room was already lit up by the light on the ceiling, the air conditioner near it, and another, not so close by. Everything in the room is pale, the occasional wooden tables appearing in his vision. The research papers were all scattered, as usual. Though he noticed a few folders with some of the papers tucked messily into it. And many, many random pieces of equipment shoved to one side of the tables.

To his side, a dark colored coat rack, the design looked like tree branches, the trees Wingding often told him about. And what hung on one of those "branches", there was Wingding's lab coat, along with his other, darker one.

Was Wingding not wearing his coat before?

He looked over to the other side, seeing Wingding on the chair, pulling up his sleeve, revealing a crack along his upper arm, branching into cracks at his shoulder. And Wingding's hand hovering over it, subtle magic flowing into the cracks.

Star can see Wingding slightly flinch, each time his magic flows into a branched off crack. Trying to numb the aches and stings from the stress those cracks caused. Star could even see red flowing down, bone marrow seeping out the main areas of those cracks.

Knowing that, Star winces. A pang of slow, heavy guilt, appearing in his chest. He reached his hand out, but halted the action immediately, unsure how to help Wingding.

He felt so many emotions.

But he held the feeling down, since Star doesn't know what to do about it right now.

Instead, Star decided to walk to Wingding's opposite direction, pulling a chair and sitting atop it, the chair making a slight creak when he did.
.
.

His chest was still heavy, but much lighter than when he was overwhelmed and down-right sobbing.

In the middle of the silence and the subtle sound of magic humming, Star lifted up a hand, rubbing off the ache in his eye-sockets. His irises were unstable looking, but he was still able to see, albeit, slightly blurry.

Star leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest, looking downwards, not wanting to face the current situation. But he couldn't help to take a little peek of what Wingding is doing.

Wingding, on the other hand, was still busy lightening the ache and the cracks in his shoulder. Bandaging it.

Star stared at him. Watching how Wingding moved around the scattered papers and lifting rolls of bandages, wrapping it around the cracks. Making sure to not aggravate it as much.

Star could see patches of red start to form through the bandages.

He then watched Wingding slowly stand up, and walk over to the other side of the room, opposite of the door. Taking a cup, half filled with now cold temperature coffee.

Star kept staring, even as Wingding sat down, and took a sip of the cup, momentarily picking up a pen, and seemed to shortly write a single sentence on a piece of paper, suddenly halting, before steadily laying it back down.

And he kept staring, when Wingding turned his chair around to look at Star, who then avoided eye contact. Star could still feel the aftermath of his violent emotions that nagged ever so subtly at his head.

The silence kept growing, Star still refusing eye contact, rather staring at random objects or the floor. Trying to distract himself with random noises.

The Air conditioner, blowing cold air into the room.

Or the papers, rustling because of it.

Honestly, what was he supposed to say? After that.. Unexpected occurrence, he never knew how to break this kind of silence.

Star doesn't like this type of silence.

"Ahem,"

Star heard Wingding clearing his throat, and when he hesitantly turned to face the younger, he saw Wingding's eyes locked on him.

And then the tension starts to appear.

Star tried to keep eye contact with Wingding, trying to brush off the entire breakdown he had. And ultimately failing.

Wingding's irises darted between star and the objects around him, trying to not make Star feel pressured. And ultimately failing also.

Wingding could see Star tense up, leg tapping rapidly on the wooden boards. His shoulders held high, his irises already dimmed, now. dull purple. Wingding wonders if it's somewhat because of...whatever happened back there.

"So," Wingding started, his right hand on the table, a finger tapping the wooden surface, mirroring Star's leg.

Star snapped his stare back at Wingding, leg growing still. His attention was quickly averted elsewhere, particularly distracted by Wingding's left arm laying on his lap. Limp and bandaged.

"Mind..telling me what's bothering you?" Wingding asked, his tone felt nonchalant, but Wingding knew he was just trying to cover up his worry. At the same time, trying to get Star's attention, that said person looked up at him, eyes wide and tired. "Star?"

Star shifted, body leaning forward, putting all his support on his elbows. He sighed subtly, noticing how warm his breaths were, atleast, warmer than usual. He almost thought he was going to cry again, letting out the frustration of his mixed emotions.

Surprising to him, nothing came out.

And so Star starts to try and deflect the question.

"uh," Star struggled out. His words are getting caught up in his throat, but he knew keeping silent isn't going to help his situation, by any means.

It's just going to make him try harder and avoid Wingding's prying eyes.

"I-it.. That was just.." Star stuttered, feeling tears prick his eyes again, just from talking. Thinking of a way to not tell Wingding of his insecurity induced nightmare. "A-...a.. Bad dream."

"... A bad dream?" Wingding's voice deadpanned, raising a brow at Star's answer. a bad dream seems like an understatement.

From Wingding's reaction and sarcastic tone, Star knew he was unsuccessful.

"Star, i don't think.." Wingding sighed, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. "A bad dream is not the right terminology for.. that. or perhaps i'm wrong, i don't know, the severity seems.. off the grounds of 'Bad dream' don't you think?"

Star held his breath, wondering if Wingding was angry at him. The usual crossed arms are there, along with the solemn tone. Star expected Wingding to be angry, he himself would understand why.

"What happened to you, back there..?"

"..."

".....Star," Wingding sighed, shutting his eyes tight for only a few seconds. Before opening them up and staring directly at Star.

"...I-..it," Star hesitantly looked up towards Wingding, being greeted by a stare and a solemn expression.

"It... It was.." Star furrowed his brows, trying to keep himself together. But just like before, it's like trying to hold together broken glass. It's Hard, and it hurts to do so.

Wingding waited patiently, eyes softening at Star's shaken look. Wingding had suspected that this is a sensitive topic for Star, but he couldn't help but to worry. Wingding wants to try and rid Star of the thing that made him panic and attack his surroundings like that, it feels unfair of him not to.

"It was... A dream" Star managed to say, looking down at the floorboards. It made him feel better not to face Wingding head on while telling his problems.

"A... Dream that.." Star tried to find the words to say it, but that dream of his brought back so many emotions he thought he had rid of, any word he thought off doesn't seem quite at point. "That scared me. And, .. And made me panic."

Wingding blinked at Star. And then he sighed, feeling the weight of his eyelids, mocking a tired smirk, Sarcasm seeping in his words. "Obviously, what kind of dream would get even the calm and logical Star to start attacking so brashly?"

Star stared at Wingding, he heard that sarcasm loud and clear, but he couldn't help but feel slightly shameful. He doesn't know why though, the feeling just seeped into his head.

".... Sorry," Star mumbled, fiddling his thumbs, staring at it.

Wingding raised another brow, confused. "Why the apology?"

Wingding halted, another round of guilt seeping in. He chuckled weakly, his shaky breaths apparent from the chuckle, "If anything i should be the one apologizing here,"

"I shouldn't have been sarcastic about a situation like this." Wingding turned his irises to look at Star, who's still fiddling his thumbs. Humming a response to Wingding's words.

"Sorry, Star,"
.
.

Star hummed, after a few seconds, acknowledging his short spoken apology.

Wingding eyed the skeleton once more, before sighing softly and turning his chair, so that only the side of his body was visible to Star, still fidgeting. Except, now staring at Wingding, seeing how tired the younger seemed to be, head turned away from Star, putting all his weight onto his chair.

"You can stay," Wingding muttered, just enough so Star could hear. "If you want, I'll be here all night anyway."

Star blinked at Wingding, whose head is still turned away, hearing the tapping from Wingding's finger, on the wooden table.

Star assumes this is awkward for Wingding too.

Star kept a few notes of silence, thinking up a response while staring at Wingding, who was still tapping on the table. But eventually he just settled on a soft-

"... Alright,"

And the soft taps stopped.

Star immediately put his gaze on Wingding's arm, a split second of that attention noting his left arm, still limply put on his lap. Before continuing to search for the reason for the silence.

Wingding then fully turned his back to Star, picking up the pen he used and continued writing on the paper he discarded before. Leaning his body towards the table, back hunched slightly, and his head dipped slightly lower at said paper.

Star blinked again ―goodness, he was being too aware of his blinking― and lowered his head again. His movements gradually slowed down as he stared at his hands, clasped with each other.

Star couldn't help but feel anxious, horribly anxious. He did something wrong didn't he, was Wingding mad at him? Should Star have told Wingding, it would all be fine right now, right? Yeah, maybe if he just outright told him, Wingding wouldn't be so angry at him. It is his fault isn't it, of course it is, Star could never be perfect, never the perfect thing, and he makes mistakes. And he could never seem to rid himself of that mistake. He could never rid himself of those thoughts. He couldn't.. He should've reacted differently. What's he going to do now? Is Wingding angry at him forever? Maybe Star should've talked. If only he wasn't so stubborn-

"Star?" Wingding solemnly called out.

Star pulled himself back from his thoughts. He noticed just how hard his jaw was clenching, and how tight he was holding his hands. Star could even feel his soul start to pulse again, and the shaken panic slowly creeped up.

But at least this time, Star had the time to try and calm himself.

"Star? Are you alright?"

Star took a slow and shaky breath, unclenching his jaw and releasing his grip on his own hands, his soul slightly slowing, while the slow creeping feeling went back down.

"Mhmn?" Star tried to keep a neutral tone, ignoring the slight shake that his hands held, and his leg slightly bouncing. "..I.. Yeah, why?"

"Oh, I don't know," Wingding might've sounded sarcastic and bland, but Star could hear how hoarse his voice sounded, "The first time i looked back towards you, you were as still as a statue,"

Oh?

Star didn't think that was odd of him to do… was it?

"Also, your irises disappeared" Wingding turned his head slightly, his left eye was the only thing visible on his face, from Star's perspective. And even then, his left eye was closed, Star never knew why, never had the chance to ask.

"Usually that's when I figure out you might be unwell,"

"Why?-"

"Just a feeling," Wingding shrugged, a pause right after, while Star kept blinking confusedly at him. Wingding eventually sighed, turning back towards the half filled paper, messy writing all the way from the top, wrinkled from all the times he gripped it way too hard.

Wingding was just about to continue writing down on the paper, until Star started to mumble something to him,

"Wingding?"

Wingding didn't turn around, but he did put his pen down.

"Hmm?" Wingding hummed, eyes glued at the paper on his desk, just in case Star was still uncomfortable with him.

"C-could-" Star mumbled, then cleared his throat, awkwardly coughing and taking a slow breath, and mumbling louder.

"Could you...maybe, uh, turn aro- Uhm, to me?"

Wingding raised an eyebrow at that, but Star sounded so.. Nervous? Anxious? But he supposes it's justified. Wingding just decided to comply and turned around, maybe Star wanted to ask for a drink or something?

Wingding kept his right arm on the table, and used his legs to push him around towards the.. Now currently sitting up-right, Star.

Star is currently panicking, in a "What the hell am i doing" kind of way. His hands still fidget on his lap, eyes glued to it. But Star figured that, maybe..

Star looked up towards Wingding, silently looking towards him, waiting for Star to say something.

Maybe, he'd feel better if he just told Wingding, rather than torturing himself by overthinking about this the whole time. Besides..

Maybe, if he told Wingding, he'll be okay.

"S-so, uh"

Unfortunately, Star didn't know how to talk when his voice felt restrained after that anxiety filled thought session he had. His throat felt so scratchy and dry, despite the seemingly endless flows of magic-made tears he had just the hour before.

Star heard a skid, and pointed his attention towards Wingding. Who stood up and started to walk around the room, as if searching for something.

Star's eyes were glued tight to Wingding's movements, wondering of what the younger's motivation was. Moving between the messes of the few chairs and the stray papers in his way, eventually stopping at the small table, on the far end of Star's position.

Wingding on the other hand, glided his right hand along the table, wanting to find a specific item. And it's not that hard, considering the table had less width than the other tables used for research and experimenting.

His hands eventually felt something clank against it, high pitched, as the water inside was already mostly empty. He took the glass of water, turned back towards Star, looking curiously at him.

Wingding navigated through the mess, stepping over piled up folders and equipment that was set aside the day before. And he ended up Standing in front of Star. Not too close, but enough.

Said person was about to look up at Wingding, but never had the chance to, since Wingding crouched right before he did.

Due to his...height, he wasn't exactly face to face with Wingding, instead looking down towards the younger. Eyes still full of confusion, blinking curiously.

"... What?" Star muttered subtly, his throat still not in the best condition, so the hazy mutter was all that he could muster at the moment.

Wingding extended his right arm to Star, the one that held a glass of water. His left arm laid carefully between his knees and chest, twitching now and then.

"Here," Wingding mumbled, a slight smile on his face, attempting to comfort the older, "Your voice didn't sound too well, thought you might need some,"

"Ah,"

Star begrudgingly took the glass from Wingding's hand, though he noted the feeling, the after warmth of Wingding's hand. It helped distract him from the cold, atleast.

Wingding watched as Star lightly pressed the cup against his mouth and swallowed the cold water, since it was a small quantity, he drank it down fast.

A small sigh escaped Star's mouth, the water flowing down his throat felt nice. Although it was only a little water, he needed the magic it held anyways.

"Thank you," Star smiled at Wingding, who hummed and continued to walk back towards his chair and sat back on it, leaning less harder than before. Smiling back at him.

Well, he seemed content.

"You know, Star,"

Star blinked at Wingding, giving a small hum to let him know he heard them.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," Wingding muttered slightly softer than before.

"I understand you don't trust me that much,"
.
.

Star blinked, his back straightened, chair creaking from the sudden movement.

"What do you mean Wingding?" Star was really feeling guilty now, Ironic.

He could hear Wingding sigh, although that smile on his face never left. Star is still not used to it, he never saw Wingding smile as much before, and it slightly bothered him.

He doesn't think it's a bad thing, maybe Wingding finally let down his guard for a while, and that's a good thing...right?

"I understand, why you would be... Doubtful.. To tell me, Star,"

Star blinked, he could feel the guilt start to expand, filling in his chest.

No, no, that's not what he meant at all.

"What? No, no! That's-" Star stammered, "That's not what I-"

Wingding stared at him as he heard Star swallow a lump, continuing his cut off sentence.

"Not.. What I meant,"

Star is uncertain what to do, he doesn't know what to do. He never had to talk about his feelings at all, of course he wouldn't know what to do.

Wingding kept his eyes on Star, watching as he struggled to tell Wingding what he meant. But Wingding slackened his shoulders, brows furrowed, opening his mouth to mutter again.

"Star, it's alright," Wingding's voice shouldn't sound so quiet, "you don't have to tell me otherwise, I understand,"

Star is really not knowing what to do, what should he say? It's not going well as far as he knew,

"Wingding, I trust you, I really do-" Star swallowed a lump in his throat, it felt heavier than before, and his irises darted around Wingding's expression, unsure.

"It's just-...I -i didn't know how you would act when i tell you, and-" Star sucked a sharp breath, "A.. And I was.. Scared, you would judge and I-i wasn't ready to lose a friend-"

Wingding didn't respond, the only reply Star had was a short, hoarse, hum and a stare. He couldn't even decipher the emotions in that single stare. Star never thought a silent stare would hurt him so much, considering how he was used to being watched, used to silence.

But that was long ago, wasn't it?

Silence from someone he loves (platonically?) hurts so much more.

Star felt his magic build up again, and his chest feels constricted, so much harsher than before.

If Star was how he usually acted, he would've kept the feeling down so much more easily, and let the feeling die down, buried like all the anger and sadness he used to feel. maybe even keep a steady facade of a calm persona.

But he's not his usual self at the moment.

Sometimes Star wished he was the person he once was back then. Just so he would stop these thoughts and confusing feelings once and for all.

But no matter how much he thought of it, he could never bring himself to go back.

Not when he found someone he cares for.

He had a nightmare, a rarity, not a welcomed one, but it happened regardless. And that already threw him off his track, sure, he managed to keep most of the panic at the minimum, but he's prone to these feelings so much more.

And Star knew that, so he let the magic flow down again, pressing his mouth into a line, his chest felt so heavy, and his magic was so unstable, not in a destructive way, emotionally, maybe.

He tried to turn his head away, was it shame? Another stalking guilt? Or was he just trying to avoid Wingding's eyes?

Star assumes it's the latter.
.
.

Wingding watches as Star shed tears, gripping his shirt and turning his head away.

Wingding tensed slightly, eyes widening slightly. He made the wrong move didn't he? Was it a misunderstanding?

Because Wingding recognized that look, and the way Star acted.

It reminded him of a memory, one that his heart never seemed to properly let down.

When Sans had a similar experience, he refused to tell Wingding what happened. The difference here was that Wingding knew.. Er.. At least had ideas of what Sans's nightmare was about, he almost died, multiple times, in front of Sans, after all.

It was... An emotionally wrecking situation, not essentially good for all the people involved.

Unfortunately that occurrence happened quite frequently. But at least Wingding knew how to get the situation to settle down. Even if just by a slight margin.

Wingding carefully stood up, discarding the document he was writing, and stepped towards Star, stopping right in front of him, looking down at the Skeleton.

Meanwhile, Star flinched when he heard Wingding stand up, hastily eyeing the younger skeleton, nervous. And lifted his head slightly, when Wingding halted right in front of him.

Star was really nervous now, what was Wingding going to do? Scold him? Insult him? There are possibilities that Star didn't particularly like.

Star felt Wingding place a hand around his left cheek, lifting his head higher, while Wingding stepped back and leaned down, eye to eye with Star.

Star felt Wingding's thumb wipe away a stray tear, his left eye closed shut from the gesture.

"Star,"

Star's right eye moved towards Wingding, his expression worried and... Soft, Star wondered if this is how Wingding usually acted back in his world, was he usually like this?

Star hoped that maybe, Wingding had finally opened up, albeit, only a little.

"I'm sorry," Wingding mutters, his right thumb still gingerly rubbing Star's cheek, "I shouldn't have assumed, it wasn't your intention to, wasn't it?"

Star hiccupped, subtle against the cold silence of the room, only slight rustles and creaks heard by the both of them.

"I didn't mean to make you sad, I just wanted to assure you," Wingding pulled Star's head to him, resting his head on his shoulder, despite the slight ache it gave him.

"That even if you didn't tell me, I wouldn't be angry,"

"you can tell me whenever you're ready, you can tell me whenever you feel like it's the right time."

Star's comfort is his priority at the moment, he can worry about the ache later.

"You're my best friend, the first person i opened up to in this place, the one who genuinely cared of what i did, and purposely stayed by my side, even when i was being stubborn as fuck."

Wingding chuckled lightly, tightening his grip, "I'd damn myself if I don't do the same for you."
.
.

Star let out a series of hiccups, so much quieter than his previous outburst, it still held the same emotions. But this time, he felt a sense of relief. He was scared but now he's just tired.

He wants to confide these feelings to someone. Let himself down for once and let another hold him up, only for a while, only for a little while.

He wants to let someone take a hold of him, care for him, rather than him being all alone, doing it himself. Just for once.

Just once.

And he did.

He sat there wrapping his arms around Wingding's torso, pulling Wingding closer. The younger now stood up straight, not overly towering Star, but just enough to be above his head.

Wingding's right arm moved from Star's face to the back of his head, patting his head softly, rubbing it in a way to comfort the emotional Skeleton.

Wingding lifted his left arm too, the sudden spike making him jolt slightly, but he ignored it, wrapping his left arm around Star, rubbing circles on his back.

How familiar, he did this too just an hour before, right?

Wingding heard Star mutter. And even though he didn't make a change in his movements, he put his attention to Star's rambling, some words he recognized, some was a pure jumble of words.

Star hiccupped, interrupting his current ramble, "I-i was scared, there was.. Was no one there and I did everything I remembered I could- b-but-"

Wingding hummed, letting Star's words flow out. Letting whatever plagued Star to leave, and disappear out of his head.

letting the emotions die down.

Wingding doesn't mind this, maybe a little help is what Star needs.

Wingding felt his eyes start to tear up. His own magic, stable but it's building up. Star's radiating magic overflowing, influencing his own.

Wingding felt Star's grip tightened, pressing his face to Wingding's tear stained sweater.

Wingding felt a tear roll down his face, his magic fueling his rising temperature. And the pressured feeling along his throat and chest. And he took a deep shaky breath.

Wingding let his arms grow tight around Star, not to hurt him, just so that he could..feel secure.

Wingding let his eyes close, the emotions fueling both of them.

Maybe.. A little help is what they both need.
.
.

.
.
.

"Feeling better?"

That,

That was the first sentence Star heard, as his vision blur into a room, and he feels his arms tingle like little pin-pricks on the surface, and his legs laid slackened on the soft bedding.

He could feel the bedding pressed against his right side, face smushed into a pillow, arms bent out slightly.

Star groaned again, his mind still quiet and tired. But as soon as his memories came back, he reluctantly rubbed his eyes open. Half lidded and tired.

He was laid on his side, so he pushed himself up with his left arm, groggily blinking the dots out of his vision. His arms feel so.. Weak, Star noted as he propped himself up with his arms.

Each of his hands beside his body, keeping him still as he tried to figure out his blurry vision. The fatigue hit him hard, his body feels exhausted, although he's sure he hadn't done any energy depriving activity the night before.

Except for..

Star shook that out of his mind, it's better if he doesn't think about it right now. He's finally feeling something of calmness, he wouldn't want to ruin it right away.

"Star, did you hear what I said?"

Star blinked, as his vision finally cleared, and he saw a figure. sitting on the other bed, ankles crossed and their left arm laid on their lap.

"Mhmn? Yeah...what-" Star choked, and coughed out his next words, "Time, what time is it?-"

"The void has no time," Wingding retorted, before snorting and clearing his throat, answering again, "But if we're going by the clocks in this house, it's 11 AM,"

Their right hand held up, gripping a cup of...was that the scent of coffee Star noticed?

Yes, a steaming cup of coffee.

Star stared at Wingding, his eyes moving between the cup of coffee and Wingding's face, amused and tired, how Wingding usually is.

"Hmn," Star hummed, before giving a pointed look towards Wingding, his mouth parting open, giving a hoarse, "Coffee?"

"What?" Wingding gave a slight chuckle, "I need my morning coffee, Star,"

"Morning?"

"I'd figure you'd be the least bothered by this, considering you've seen me do this atleast," Wingding moved his cup, mocking a counting gesture, "more than a few times."

Star ignored his neck hurting, the ache slightly dimmed when he tilted his neck to the side, giving a satisfying crack.

"Yes, well," Star muttered, clearing his throat of the lump from last night's situation, "I'd figure you to drink water than coffee, just this "morning" at least,"

Star gave a short glance at Wingding's bandaged arm, visible under the T-shirt Wingding changed into, a plain, white T-shirt. Seems like Wingding.

Star noted that Wingding had changed the bandages, he could see a leftover roll of bandages on the desk, and the way it was wrapped seemed a lot more neat.

Wingding noticed where Star's attention was placed on, and gave a mutter "Swap scolded me for the previous way i bandaged my arm," Wingding huffed,

"Swap then proceeded to frantically bandage my arm, The proper way, he said."

Star averted his eyes from the wound, still feeling the prickling guilt in his chest. Just seeing the accidental wound really made him feel like an awful friend. And prompted a hum when Wingding muttered,

"You know, about the water thing,"

Star turned his irises towards Wingding, curious of what Wingding is about to say.

"Fell did throw water at me around an hour after you slept."

Star blinked at the statement, his mind halted for a few seconds, processing what Wingding just told him.

"Wai- W-what?"

Wingding snorted, gently setting the cup of coffee down on the desk, the lamp it's usually decorated by disappeared.

"You fell asleep, after around 40 minutes of me hugging you,"

Star coughed, a slight flush of purple flashing on his cheeks, embarrassed by the now known fact.

"And I carried you back-" Star's eyes held a flicker of confusion, but was soon replaced by slight curiosity as Wingding continued, "-With a giant summoned hand, I wouldn't carry you by myself with my...petite stature."

Wingding muttered out, an expression Star often saw as.. Embarrassed. But then gained a much more relaxed expression, waving a hand in nonchalance.

"although it took a slight toll on my reserves, it didn't bother me much"

Star stared at Wingding, nodding, urging him to continue.

"Well, as soon as I put you to bed, I walked out the door and Fell was standing right in front of me."

Even though Star knew how the story ended― Wingding literally said it to him ―he still couldn't help but shoot a curious look towards Wingding.

"It turns out," Wingding chuckled, "He was awake right after we stepped in the lab, and so he was downstairs when the whole ordeal happened"

Star's eyes widened slightly, tightening his jaw and shifting in his place, not knowing what to think of that. the possibility that Fell might've heard his rambles, is a whole other dreading feeling.

But Star can wait to confront that.

"He, apparently, was stirred by the ruckus and woke up a few minutes after." Wingding hummed, "Like the big softie he is-"

Wingding's voice gained a playful tone, Star smiled slightly, he liked seeing that, he didn't like Wingding to be overly stressed like last night.

"-Came to check up on us upstairs and saw me carrying you back, and stood in front of the door, almost opening it, but-" Wingding halted, out of breath, and then continuing.

"You know,"

Star blinked, and asked Wingding, confusedly "Where was the water throwing part?"

"Ah," Wingding snorted, "Well,"

"He told me that we needed to talk downstairs and so we did, we talked for a while,"

"He saw my wounded arm and immediately became ansty," Wingding smirked, amused at the memory.

"And he walked into the kitchen to grab water and walked out, proceeded to throw that glass of water at me when i asked for coffee"

"Oh,"

Wingding gave a short laugh, eyes closed and a slight yellow on his cheeks. "Yeah, he told me I was an idiot and everything, fortunately didn't hit my left arm, just my right side."

"He did begrudgingly make coffee though, after he pestered me to hydrate myself." Wingding hummed, the corners of his mouth tugged up into a reluctant smile.

Star stared at the sight. And gave a small smile himself, he liked seeing this side of Wingding's personality.

Maybe he'll get to see it more often.

"Fortunately,"

Star snapped his attention towards Wingding. letting his hand lay on his lap.

"He was mostly half awake at that time, so he couldn't have heard your outburst, and crippling fears" Wingding chuckled, giving a small smile towards the worried skeleton.

"Don't worry, your nightly rambles are safe with me,"

Star held his breath for that whole sentence, and then let out a breath, feeling the pressure be let off his chest. It was truly a relief.

"I-..Thanks, Wingding," Star mumbled, mouth tugged up into a tired smile, eyes pointed towards Wingding, giving a grateful look, "I..really appreciate it."

"Sure thing," Wingding smiled, arching his back, sounding a few cracks from the action. Before yawning softly, partially covering his mouth with his hand.

"Although, I really have to note what I have to do when these kinds of things happen," Wingding breathed a soft chuckle, taking a breath right after.

"Ah, right,"

"That way," Wingding lazily pointed his finger at Star, playfully jabbing at him, "I would know how to deal with a battle royale, nightmare edition with you,"

Star snorted at the horrible description, Laughing lightly. Although he did feel slightly bad from the jab. He knows Wingding didn't mean that.

Star moved his irises towards Wingding, who suddenly stood up and walked to him, holding out a hand towards Star.

"Swap has your food, you know, I thought you might want it."

Star smiled at the gesture, taking Wingding's hand and helping himself up, standing beside Wingding. Star could feel Wingding's hand, less warmer than last night, but maybe that's because he doesn't feel cold anymore.

"Come on Star, they're right downstairs,"

"Mhmn."

.

.

They were at the top of the stairs, right about to step down. But Star didn't see Wingding move from his place on top of the stairs, left hand laid on the railing.

"Wingding?"

Wingding didn't seem to want to break the silence. At least, before he mumbled, and called out to Star.

"You know, Star,"

Star hummed at Wingding, making eye-contact with him. Wingding's face holds a soft smile, tired, but content.

"I've decided, I'll make a way for us to keep in contact,"

Star blinked.

"All of us." Wingding's smiled softly, "I... i think it'd be nice to meet you all again, someday."

A pause, not a necessarily bad one.

Then, Star felt a chuckle rising up his throat, and a burst of...positivity? It filled his chest. His irises dilated, sparkling with flowing magic.

Star began to smile, crossing his arms across his chest, he felt like if he didn't, it'd burst open with how touched he felt. Proud? Maybe, Wingding finally let down his guard? Not all, perhaps, but this is an improvement.

Oh, how different it was from last night. He feels much happier.

"That-" Star coughed, "That'd be nice, really-"

"Yeah, we would all have interesting things to show huh?"

"mm-"

"I could even take you stargazing in my world," Wingding stammers, "You- all of you. The views up from the mountains were my favorites as a child."

Star halted, and kept silent. Shooting a confused look at Wingding.

Star kept staring at Wingding, who's currently smiling at him, amused. Tapping the railing and taking one step down.

Eventually, Star gave a small chuckle, his own expression mirroring Wingding. Letting his hand grip the railing taking one step down, his gaze set on the other, three talking Skeletons on the couch.

"My friend, i don't think stargazing would give me any new experiences,"

"Oh?"

"Yes," Star gave Wingding a playful look, closing his eyes, smiling, "I've been surrounded by stars my whole life,"

Wingding raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"I don't think another set of lights will do it any better,"

Wingding hummed, closing his eyes, mocking a thoughtful look. And then he cracked open his left eye, glowing with a playful golden color. Stepping down the railing, onto the step behind Star, looking directly at him.

"I'll take you to see the sunset, then"

Star halted, tilting his head at Wingding, partially turning it to the side. Another chuckle rising to his mouth, "The sunset?"

"I know, I know it might SEEM mundane," Wingding waved around his right hand, gesturing to nothing. While stepping past Star, and to the step in front of him, turning around.

"But trust me, it was my favorite sight, long ago, it'll be a different experience."

"How, exactly?" Star gave an amused look to Wingding, Following Wingding downstairs.

Wingding gave Star a closed eyed smile, softly huffing out a breath. Finally stepping that last Step, Pointing a look towards the other three, before looking back at Star.

Somehow Wingding's voice sounded so much more scattered,

"Because we'll all be right there with you."

Somehow Wingding's voice seemed so much more distant.

"Because I'll be right there beside you."

Eventually, Star can't hear Wingding's voice anymore.

And static overtakes.
.
.

.

.

Star cracked his eyes open, groggily shifting in his place, from the tree behind him. His cloak, draped around him, held in place by the few chains embedded on each side of the cape, in front view.

At first, he heard nothing.

Nothing, as in, Winds whistling through tree branches, leaves above him, rustling and falling down to the ground, their amber color. His vision catches shades of orange cascading down.

It certainly sounds empty to him. The voice of his dear friend he used to remember had long been buried in memories he refused to forget.

The steps of the few forest animals, hiding behind trees, perched atop them, sneaking through the creaks and rustles of the forest. Prying eyes curiously pointed at him, Skittish of noise and movements.

The whistling wind grew still and distant, those eyes peering from the shadows closed. Now everything is quiet again.

His vision grows clearer.

The ledge far in front of him, the end point of the ledge, far to his right, and there grew few flowers, tainted gold, swaying softly by the slightest hint of wind.

Their color dims in front of the bright orange light.

Star didn't think much of it. Not now, at least.

Star didn't straighten from his position, leaning on the tree's trunk, Slack. His whole body aches, he didn't know why, he felt so fatigued and tired.

He felt so alone.

His eyes moved to the sinking sun.

The glow orange and bright rays of light burst through the trees and danced around the grass. Lighting hidden movements, and radiating warmth across this clearing.

It was supposed to feel warm.

And yet,

He couldn't feel any more cold.

These warm colors and light felt so empty, it held no meaning to him, he still felt cold regardless. A creeping tingle ran up his spine. The way his chest felt so hollow, it made him want to fill it with something.

Someone.

But that someone is gone now.

Star's breath hitched, reminded of the fact.

He closed his eyes shut, trying to avoid the light's domain, despite being cautious of the shadows behind. The shadows he used to be so terrified of.

Star pulled away, far from it's grasp. He leaned farther into the tree, but he couldn't move any further, the hard surface keeping him from sinking into the tree.

The warm temperature reminded him of them, the colors all around him does. But no matter how much he tried to imagine, tried to take it in his embrace, tried to feel it the same way.

He never felt the same effect.

He still felt cold.

He feels blinded by the light, he feels devoid of comfort. He feels robbed of...something.

And he knows why.

He wished he didn't know why.

He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the void in his chest start to collapse. The feeling starts to feel heavy, something he can't carry, no matter how much he pushes himself to. It feels unbearable, it hurts, it feels like he's being ripped open.

It feels like heartbreak.

Almost as if it's pulling in all that he had. And spitting out missing pieces.

As Star starts to open his eyes, his breath quickened. But that's fine.

He swallowed a heavy lump. And felt his eyes grow hot. He felt his body's aches grow, but despite that, he laid a palm on the tree and propped himself up, standing.

He could feel the grief weighing him down, as if forcing him to fall, forcing him to give in.

But he can't. Not yet.

Not after that.

Where was his skill in numbing down? How did he force himself not to feel, all those years ago? How, he wished he knew.

He felt he didn't need it.

He already felt numb enough.

At least that way, he wouldn't have to feel how still everything is. Like time has lost energy, like how as it passes, he felt the same.

Stuck in a state of denial and reminiscence. Where he wanted to believe….no, refused to believe the reality he saw.

Star gave a vacant stare as he blinked in his surroundings. Finally getting a clear sense of where he is, his hazy stupor leads him near the ledge. Looking down at the foot of the mountain below, and the dimming light in the sky.

He was standing beside the flowers, near the ledge.

Star didn't care for the flower.

Star didn't want the flower.

And yet, as he let out a soft sigh, he sat down beside it, cradling a single petal in his fingers.

He remembers how he used to love this color. The first he ever saw to be as bright as the stars themselves.

Brighter, as he saw it to be.

He can feel his pulse. His soul, tired and longing for something, so slow and still. Tired, the light so far from it's glory.

But Star would eventually forget about it, right?

…

What was he thinking?

.

.

"WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!?"

Star's voice called, angry, defeated.

Scared.

His breathing ragged, everything ached and his vision blurred. From the tears in his eyes, the thrashing, overwhelming sadness, overflowing his chest.

He was there, only conscious out of pure magic, he knew that. He didn't care for that.

He could feel his arm slack, the wound gashing down from his shoulder, his "blood" dripping down, the sting makes him want to scream but he didn't, too distracted by emotion, simultaneously numbing the pain.

His clothes have all been torn, soaked in blood and dust, dust of the people he fought beside, ones who wanted a way out. Ones desperate for it. ones he barely knew, but still remembered.

They were just like their own group.

"Star...please, you have to understand-" Wingding choked out, his mouth spitting black liquid, one made of his own body. A previous wound being the cause, "Go with the others, the portal will close soon-"

"UNDERSTAND!?"

Star never liked feeling so angry, enraged. But when he knew what Wingding was about to do, he couldn't help but be desperate himself. Please, don't leave, he needs them here, please, don't disappear-

Star could feel his throat close, and his stomach churn, either from the fact he hasn't ate, or the feeling of dread and devastation thrashing in his chest. Voiding him of rationality.

"HOW?" He gritted out, his own two hands firmly grasping the fabric of Wingding's coat, Scared and tight, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to go.

"How-" Star's breath hitched, his magic flowing down, his vision blurred, irises unstable, magic scattered his vision. "How can I understand why you have to be left behind?"

Wingding stood in front of him, equally worn and wounded, his once pale white coat now grey and ashen, the fabric torn and tainted. His sweater had a gaping hole. Laced with unfamiliar magic and where his soul used to reside.

his once pale eyes had dimmed, turning into a dull grey, left eye fully shut, black liquid dripping down his shattered cheek. The usual golden specks his irises had held also disappeared, along with his smile.

His soul, levitating behind him. Horribly cracked, shattered looking. Holding itself together with pure will and determination. The very essence of Wingding's research. What's left of the gold magic tied to it, ones circling around the portal.

Sacrificing itself for a way out.

Wingding turned his eyes behind Star, locking his stare onto the unstable portal, barely held together. As he saw the portal's frame falter, he felt another gash of pain slash across his chest.

His soul gained another crack, now, almost fully shattered. It's own will faltering, along with the host it takes from.

Wingding gave a shocked, painful gasp, halting his scream And he grasped his chest, his stance faltering, barely standing up.

Star scrambled to keep him standing, his own arms prompted as support. His four eyes darted around Wingding trying to see what was wrong. His own magic grows unstable around them, limbs taking a defensive form.

He tried to take Wingding in his arms, see what's happening, why is he hurt? What can he do?

Star tried to keep his hiccups at bay, but it was useless. More and more just kept coming as he tried to keep his friend close, pressing his face to their chest, trying to reassure both of them.

And Wingding coughed, another splatter of blood came. He put a hand to his mouth, biting into the side of it, trying so hard not to yell out. Star is still here, he doesn't want to collapse, give up, until all of them leave.

Until all of them are safe.

Wingding heard static, far behind him. Solemn and deafening, aiming straight for him. The very version of him, coming to seal his fate. Already written in time.

Wingding supposed he could've survived. But would it be worth it?

Wingding then stared down, at Star, bent down and pressing his head into Wingding's chest. Crying and shaking. As Star tries to wrap around the situation, mind running miles a minute, but he can't think of a rational solution.

Atleast, without putting the time space continuum's integrity at risk.

Wingding doesn't want this, but what choice did he have? He never did get a choice in the first place. And he knew that, he begged and screamed and cursed the very beings that saw this as fair. But those attempts were futile.

He was set to die, long before he lived.

Just like many other variants of him. Set for a fate they were reluctant to accept.

"Please- Wingding don't-..don't do this-" Star could hear his own voice shake, the trembling ran through his whole body, desperation started to creep up his chest. His breath felt so hot, and his throat felt like it's closed shut, as Star desperately sucks in quick breaths.

"Star.. I have to,"

"NO, NO YOU DON'T"

Star lifted his head and pulled Wingding's body by the fabric of his shirt, face inches away from each other, the tears hot against his face and his breath grew hot and heavy. His pulse quickened.

Wingding didn't give a reaction, instead, softening his eyes at the crying Skeleton in front of him.

"You can't die, you-u shouldn't please, let me do it, let me die instead of you, let me die with you. We- I can help you, we both can leave this place alive, just please-"

Star opened his mouth, screaming, desperate for another way, another path, another chance, anything, anything but this, please.

Anyone but him.

Wingding reached out and solemnly pulled Star's head to his shoulders, a simple, tired smile on his face. He had known for a while how his journey would end.

And he doesn't mind,

At Least his friends would have a chance,

Even if it meant he was to die.

"Star,"

Wingding could hear the static growing nearer and closer.

"Please, let me do this,"

Star's breath hitched once more, his throat dry and hoarse. Hurting his voice. His eyes closed shut as he desperately threw his arms around the younger, keeping them close to him, keeping them with him.

Star didn't want to listen, he refused to. Please, not this, we can figure out another way, please don't do this.

He can't lose Wingding too, he had lost people, but then he didn't care, he did now, and he wants them to stay, please. Be the one that stays.

"My book has long since ended, and my ink has dried." Wingding's voice grew so tired, and soft but at the same time so empty and hollow.

"I've known for a while now how my line will be cut."

Star shook his head, his tears left stains on Wingding's coat. He could feel the younger's arms rub his back gently.

Star wished he could gather comfort from that, but all he felt was guilt, and fear, this isn't how he wants to say goodbye, he wants to say goodbye in a way where he'll see Wingding again.

Not like this.

Please, gods, not like this.

But the gods wouldn't care about his pleads, now, would they?

"I've come to accept that, I won't survive this void."

Wingding knew the static had grown so close. He could just see the image of the man, black and white, dripping with intent, the void consumed him.

And now? It was his turn to leave.

"Your book still bears pages, and your ink still full," Wingding let himself bear a small smile, "The ink i gave you, and your book i extended. Surely you'll be happier,"

"You promised me.." Star weakly cried out, so nimble and quiet, he didn't even know if Wingding heard him.

Star didn't even want to mutter his name, even when he has called it so many times. The name left an uncomfortable taste in his mouth, like an ashen version of the one he used to fondly say.

"My memory is starting to grow hazy, so blurred and distant."

Star sobbed, his grip around Wingding growing tighter and tighter, pleading to him, begging him, please, don't he can't do this, please.

"Soon enough,"

How ironic. He used to hear those same pleads from different people.

"I won't remember you, Star"

How could Wingding sound so calm, how could he be okay with this? How could he be okay leaving them behind, how could he bear leaving him behind?

"What is the worth of remembering someone who has already died?"

"No.."

"I'm sure I'll disappear from your memory soon enough, you'll move on."

"Please"

Anything, please, don't leave us behind, don't leave him behind.

"Star,"

Star could feel his face being lifted up, the blurred sight of Wingding was all he could see, their dulled irises and their slack posture.

Star would always see this look on Wingding, either when he worked himself to exhaustion, or when he felt reluctant to continue forward.

But there's a difference between these two expressions.

Before he seemed determined, thoughtful and sure.

Now?

He seemed like he had given up.

Star sobbed heavier as he felt a palm on his face, closing his eyes to reminisce the warmth. But that warmth was long gone, lost in the now cold body of his friend.

"I'm sorry you had to know,"

Star could hear Wingding take a sharp breath and he squinted open his eyes, tears still streaming down his face, his magic growing unsteadier. The trembles he could feel as his limbs thrashed against the ground, starting to sense the static growing nearer.

His own body trembled along with it.

"But thank you," Wingding pressed his forehead against Star's, a sad smile on his face, tired details all across his face.

Star didn't like this. He wanted a different outcome, but what wish would be strong enough to defy fate?

"Thank you, for caring about me, thank you for loving someone as flawed and mistaken as me"

How could Wingding say that so softly? So quiet and so tired? When he'd usually say these kinds of words with such warmth and fondness.

"Thank you for sticking with me. Even when I wasn't the best person you could've asked for. I couldn't show you as much love and care as I would have wanted to."

Star gritted his teeth, and kept his eyes open, memorizing what would be his last image of his friend. He tried to keep the sobs quiet, taking in his friend's voice. As if it was a subtle melody he would play. But it wouldn't be a soft memory.

He tried to beg once again, not knowing any other plead, any other prayer, repeating over and over again. No, no please, don't, Wingding promised him. Please, please be the one that stays, please.

"Thank you, for being my best friend"

Star let his eyes closed shut, trying to take a breath, before being cut off and then-

A pause.

"Love you, Star,"
.
.

No,
.
.

As he felt his soul being forced back, the dim golden magic around his soul. His vision caught a last glimpse, a clue, a single piece, to know what might've happened after he passes out.

As Star saw white all around,

The one he focuses on is his best friend.

A figure of his best friend.

And another looming behind him.

The last expression he saw, dull eyes and tired smiles. Tear stricken face and a wounded chest. Arms reached out as if to take his hand, but rather than that, pushing him away instead.

Behind it, a dark figure, smiling widely, one of the void. One of their own. Their own shadow-like tendrils swirling around Wingding,

as if to trap him,

to make him stay.

Star's eyes widened, an arm reached out desperately to Wingding, to reach for him, a last attempt to reach for his best friend.

A last cry. A last goodbye.

Star yelled out,

"WINGDING-"

And his vision grew white.
.

.

Was it so wrong for him to love them? When he's just as flawed?

Is it so wrong that they had to be taken away?

"Star,"

Star opened his eyes, irises gone. Legs folded on the ledge, clutching a single golden flower as the light from the sunset died down. Leaving a purple coloured sky, soon turning into navy waves of clouds.

As the birds flew by, and the ashen clouds rolled ahead. Star let himself breathe out.

Star let himself breath.

Star lowered his head, his right hand holding the stem of the flower, twirling it around solemnly in his grip. The once bright golden petals have now simmered down into a pale yellow.

Bright eyes turned into a dull grey.

The wind blew from behind him, amber leaves and dandelions flew by, carried by wind along with his cloak.

As he reminded himself of the voice that called out to him, firm and asserting. Yet so tired and unsure.

Star knew who that voice belonged to.

"Yes, Fell?"

He heard the man grunt, huffing in annoyance. But Star could hear the laced worry in his tone.

Star could hear the portal's swirling static behind him, previously opened a few seconds before. As the particles blew past him, giving him visions of white specks near the purple bordered sky.

Acting as specks of light.

Fake stars he could wish on. And that wish would be a type of lie he could immerse himself in.

Firm steps contrast the subtle winds he heard running by, the steps growing closer, eventually stopping to his left.

The sounds of the animals scattering off as Fell appeared. Stature high and firm. Yet something seemed off about him, in a state of loss, lacking the boldness his stance used to hold.

Star's irises appeared for a moment, peering up at the brown coated skeleton, standing beside him. Still biting on a toothpick, their hands pocketed into their coat, blowing along as his own cloak did.

Star couldn't see their expression well, but he assumes it's how it usually is.

Except,

When they turned their head towards him, all he saw was exhaustion and worry. All the rage he usually saw settling on the skeleton's face had faded, leaving a tired and somber husk of his friend.

"I know," Fell sighed, turning his head away once again, facing the trees to his left instead, "That you're upset, right now,"

"And grieving."

Star hummed, his irises turned back to the now- navy clouded sky, barely any purple left.

"We all are." Fell muttered, "But.."

They both kept a few notes of silence. Letting the wind turn cold as more and more leaves flew by. Their own expressions are cold and tired.

Letting themselves bask in the silence, not wanting to confront the loss. The lack of someone in their life.

"We...we have other things.. To worry about right now." Fell muttered, still refusing eye contact with Star.

Who is currently staring at the sinking sky. The dark sky doesn't bother him anymore. The lack of stars in the sky seemed fitting.

The lack of noise seemed fitting too.

"And that's what we need to work at...currently." Fell turned around, stepping a few paces but halted, back still turned to Star.

There was only a short distance between them, but they all felt so far from each other. One of them lost, and now all is far.

Star kept silent. The only noise he made is the occasional sharp breaths he took.

"...Don't dwell so much, Star,"

Star kept staring ahead, didn't even pay mind to Fell's Words. His chest felt so hollow and his head felt so heavy, aching so badly. He didn't move.

"I'm sure it's what ding-"

Star could hear Fell choke up. His words cut off, as he takes in a deep, shaky breath. How often Fell had used that nickname for them, Star knew it had become a fondness of some sort between the two of them.

A sort of way, to show care for each other.

And now, it was a reminder for Fell.

"Wingding. It's...it was what Wingding would've wanted."

Ah,

Fell was also reminiscing.

After a few minutes passed, only the winds between them, the trees swaying and the sky fully dark. Star hummed shortly, placing the golden flower to lay peacefully on the ledge grass. Softly patting the surrounding area of the flower, before prompting himself up.

Fell continued to pace into the portal, muttering, "Swap is worried, he's taking care of B while he's still passed out. You should head back soon."
.
.

Star heard the steps disappear, only the soft whirling of the portal is left. Everything else seemed so still.

Everything else seemed so dull.

Everything but the single petal he clutched, still golden, still dim. Star eventually he let go of the petal, leaving it to stray away, in the winds above him.

His legs felt glued to the ground, but with all he had left, he stepped around, cloak blowing behind him.

He stepped towards the swirling portal, his vision blurring white as the environment started to churn around him. And another start to clear on the other side.

But he halted.

Star turned around and stared up at the sky. The sky barely lit. The stars have dimmed as the sunset disappeared.

Star remembered what Wingding had said. Reminiscing of it, giving his own response.

"The sunset would be beautiful wasn't that what you said?"

No answer.

Only the winds seemed to hear his words.

"..It didn't seem so special.. Now that you're gone."

As he turned back to enter the portal, he felt something cradle his soul. As he gave a glance to the portal's rim, he saw a flicker of that golden magic. A flicker of his long gone friend.

His first.

Star stared at the sight, before giving a reluctant smile.

"You know why?" Star gave a weak chuckle, laced with breaths as a single glance he gave to the flower he laid down. The golden petals blowing off to him, past his face and grazing his cheek.

Giving a last smile, an offering, a last goodbye. Before he turned back, to let himself walk past into the portal.

"You weren't there beside me."

And the winds howled,

And the winds grew still.
.
.

A smile, as he saw Star's retreating form, the portal closing and the particles scattering.

As the wind blew the golden petal softly to his hand, the figure lifted the petal to his mouth, giving the petal a comforting peck.

His body emanating soft light, barely visible, the last sentence he would mutter. Before the wind carried him along the very petals that blew around the clearing atop this mount.

A whisper.

A smile.

"The sunset is beautiful isn't it?"