Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Soreness.

The feeling in his shoulders as he shoves himself off his bed in the morning.

Strain.

The sensation in his leg as he moves around the humble household before breakfast.

Cramps.

The impression of organs in his torso being crushed as he duels with his housemates in the yard after lunch.

Pain.

The stinging spasms in his chest as he joked around with his friends after dinner.

And yet he pushes through, as he always does when it gets bad. After all, there’s no reason to concern his friends over something like this. No matter how bad it hurts.

His hands drift towards his staff for the third day in a row. It’s so tempting to just cast a spell and make the pain go away, but he knows that it only makes it worse once the spell wears off. He draws his hand away from where it was lingering on the staff, cowering away from the pulsing glow of its gem.

Letting out a sigh, he sits up straight, going to push himself off his bed. The moment he tries to however, pain sears through his chest, causing him to flinch hard. He takes a few deep breaths and waits for his heart rate to slow back down. When trying again, he pushes himself up much faster than he did last time.

Almost instantly, his legs strain and his body spasms, and he plummets to the floor with a cry. His vision is blurry and his head rings as he tries to pull himself off the floor. However, his shoulders are much too cramped and sore to help him get to his feet.

Wincing in pain, he curls up on the wooden flooring and waits for the pain to go away.

>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<

“Noooooooooo!”

He cackled upon hearing his housemate’s whining, the latter upset that he had once again lost their card game. It was just another typical day in the Party Crashers household, always ending in someone’s despair. Not his despair of course, he’s way too talented for that.

Glancing at his opponent again, he sees that the other has pulled a pouty face at him as he hugs a pink Kirby plush. It was always entertaining to watch his friend mope after losing, and it brought a devilish grin to his face.

However, his bask in his own glory was cut short by his friend bashing him in the head, giving him a face full of feathers. With a groan, he puts up his hands and starts to pluck the feather out of his hair.

“Vernias! Keep your wings out of my hair, bubby!” He complains, somehow finding even more feathers in his hair. Vern crosses his arms and sticks out his tongue, fluffing his wings. Just as he is about to get his revenge, the glass yard door opens wide, and another one of his housemates comes inside.

“Brent, you’re in the way! I need my revenge on Vern!” However, his beefing only makes Brent laugh. His friend almost doubles over at his whining, finding it oddly hilarious. Nevertheless, it’s pretty typical for Brent to randomly fall into laughing fits, even if nothing funny happens.

Instead of saying anything, he just stares until his friend is regaining his composure and straightening his crown. Brent lets out one last shaky breath before giving his friends an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just that I left you guys for like two minutes and you’re both already at each other's throats!” Brent chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well Nick is, like, cheating or something! Nobody can win that much UNO in a row!” Vernias mutters, glaring at his opponent, Nick. The two of them stare daggers into each other before Nick opens his mouth to argue back.

Before he can say anything, a loud thud sounds from the upper floor, startling everyone out of their thoughts.

“Was that Eevee?” Brent ponders, and a frown replaces his grin. The three each share a glance, ranging from uncomfortable (Nick) to extremely concerned (Vern).

An awkward silence fills the room as they listen for any sign that Eevee is okay, but only hear silence. Somehow Vern gains an even more concerned expression, and Nick honestly thinks it looks like his face is going to shatter. A bright yellow flash blinds him as the winged man summons his healing staff, holding it tightly to his chest.

“I’m… gonna go check on him…” Vern mumbles as he clambers up the stairs. “If you guys wanna come, feel free to.”

Nick and Brent both stare at each other for a horribly elongated second, before following the pink clad angel.

He feels uncomfortable and the penguin wing “webbing” attached to his arms and torso itches. This is wrong.

The walk upstairs is deafeningly quiet, save for the creaks of the rickety steps. Normally, Nick would try to make a joke out of a situation like this, but this was…different. Something about it just feels so incredibly off and wrong that he can’t bring himself to be humorous. As much as he wants to tease, a sick feeling in his gut and the dreadful itch in his “wings” shuts him up.

As they reach the room of their purple clad housemate, Vern slowly extends a hand towards the door. He gives it a gentle knock, one meant to be gentle and calm, but Nick can see the worry knit into Vern’s face and knows that he is dreading the worst. He sees his friend get even more panicked when there is no response after several minutes of waiting. Vern shakily lifts his hand back to the doorknob and opens the door.

Nick sees Vern’s wings spread wide in shock and he and Brent scramble to the door only to be met with the unexpected and concerning sight of Eevee curled up on the floor with his face wrenched in pain.

>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<

Even after knocking on his door, Eevee can’t bring himself to say something, or move, or do anything. Even after the door opens, he still does nothing. It hurts.

As his friends meet his gaze, he looks away. He hadn’t meant to concern them. They were never meant to know. Now? Now it's over. They know now.

“Hey Eevee…are you okay?” As much as he wants to deny it, the gentle way Vern speaks calms him down a little. Before he can even think about it, he feels his head shake, a silent no. He hadn’t even done that intentionally, but he thinks he might not regret it.

Eevee spares a glance at his friends, and winces at how obvious their concern is. Vern’s wings are puffed out uncomfortably in worry and he looks as if he saw a puppy die. Nick isn’t smiling or smirking, instead looking unnervingly worried as he fidgets with a dagger, a nervous habit of his. Brent has a clear expression of concern on his face, with his gloves on and his crocodilian features hidden, like he does when he makes himself look less threatening in more serious social matters.

His ears fold back at the sight.

“Do you hurt?” Vern is talking again. Usually the angel can tell when his friends hurt. Why is he asking? It seems like he knows, seeing as he brought his staff. The yellow pulsing gem mixed with the similar red gem in his own staff gives him a headache. Weakly, he nods.

They all step closer, and Brent even crouches down closer to his level, sparing him a smile. A smile filled with dozens of sharp teeth. He doesn’t like this. He feels weak, like prey. His heart skips a beat. Brent moves closer. It's nauseating. A growl escapes his throat and his legs urge to thump the ground.

“Brent, back up.” Nick’s stern but shaky voice breaks through the fog in his brain. Brent looks confused and hurt, but reluctantly obeys. His heart rate slows down from its suddenly fast pace, his legs still, and he goes quiet. Vern soon takes the position that Brent had been in. He feels less vulnerable.

“Can you tell me what hurts?” The angel’s voice is so gentle that it's almost a whisper. He gives his friend a pained look, unsure if he can speak or not. Vern doesn’t seem to get the message, so he figures he might as well try to talk. Everything hurts.

“It-it all hurts…don’t kn-know why…h-hurts…o-only fell after hurtin-ing…have happen be-before..” He surprises himself when he is able to speak, and his hands shake. His friend frowns, and then pulls his staff closer. Eevee flinches and shakes his head. The angel sighs.

“I’m not sure why you didn’t tell anyone, but please know that you are safe here and that none of us want to hurt you. I believe that what you’re dealing with is some form of chronic pain, and I just want to help, but if the spell scares you, I can try something else, okay?” It takes him a minute to comprehend Vern’s words, but once he does, he nods. Maybe having his friends know won’t be so bad afterall.

Chapter Text

After that day, he had distanced himself from his friends. Doing so feels so selfish, but he can’t get away from the horrible sensation of guilt eating him from the inside out. And the idea of eating makes it even worse every time. Even just thinking about eating makes him want to vomit out his insides.

He isn’t even sure if the others have noticed. After all, Nick’s been spending most of his time out of the house as if he can’t breathe inside the humble home anymore, and Vern…Vern’s been taking care of why he wants to gut himself. He knows it wasn't the angel’s nor the rabbit’s fault. It was entirely and wholeheartedly because of him.

And the feeling was awful.

He can’t bring himself to even look at a picture of Eevee without the impending guilt washing over him again. The fear in the rabbit’s eyes flashes in his mind a thousand times over every second. He had made it worse during one of his friends' worst. The thought is sickening.

Absent-mindedly, he slices his finger as he goes to chop another pepper. Wincing, he brings a cloth to it and stops the blood flow. He almost faints at the sight of it, his brain providing him with unwanted images of him coated in other’s blood, like a mindless monster. His vision goes blurry as he feels his stomach contort. Choking and gagging over the sink, nothing comes out. Unsurprising, as he hadn’t eaten today.

Without thinking, he hurls his shining crown across the kitchen, knocking over dozens of objects. It’s loud. It’s messy. He feels like a monster.

Bringing his now-clawed hands to his face, he begins to rip and tear. He slashes, and he strikes, feeling his blood coat his fingers. Horrid crimson blood. Oozing over his eyes and slipping into his mouth. He’s horrified to find that he likes the taste. His tail begins to sway in anger and disgust.

He’s a monster.

More and more of his blood covers his face and hands, making him feel light-headed. With all his remaining anger and strength, he grabs a large pot and brings it down on his head.

>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<

Humming softly, he turns the coals in the small fireplace. Hanging over them is a soft plush frog with a smile. Any minute now, it would be a pleasant heated temperature, not too hot to burn yet warm enough to soothe Eevee’s pain. He had to be the one to help with it anyway. Nick was off doing who knows what, and Brent had been busying himself close by, yet also far enough to where he was distant. It’s okay, though. Vern doesn’t mind the work; he is an angel. He’s used to always helping out.

When he feels the frog is being warmed over the fire, he gently removes it and carefully pours the water over the flames to extinguish them. Lightly patting the frog to remove any soot, he carries it over to Eevee. For a moment, he pauses, thinking that he heard a crashing noise, but shakes his head. It must’ve been his imagination.

The pained rabbit gives him a weak smile as he takes the frog, likely unused to being cared for on his bad days. It’s okay, though. Vern can manage it even if it’s mostly by himself.

Luckily, Brent silently offers to make meals, and Nick is technically bringing in more supplies, such as food, which makes it more accessible. Though his crocodilian friend is usually done making the food by now, he should grab some for Eevee. As he moves to head down the stairs, his rabbit friend tilts his head.

“I’m just going to get your food. I’ll be back in a minute.” He reassures, trying his best to sound patient. Eevee looks like he is about to protest but meets Vern’s eyes and relaxes his posture. He’s glad, not wanting his friend to accidentally hurt himself.

As he quietly and slowly treads down the stairs, he hums the tune of some song he can’t quite recall the name of. It was about parties and getting ready, but he wasn’t sure. It doesn’t really matter, though. Without his humming, the house would be almost deathly quiet by now, so he’s glad it’s his habit.

Turning the corner of the stairs, he’s met with the second unexpected sight of the week, albeit a more graphic. The kitchen is a big mess, and in the middle of it all is an unconscious Brent, who is covered in blood. He has to hold himself back from screaming to not disturb or worry Eevee.

Quickly as ever, he summons his healing staff, its yellow pulse providing little comfort. Typically, he likes getting permission before doing such major heals, but he feels this is an emergency. Softly trodding towards his friend, he sees the damage, which only seems to be on the face. Still, it’s grossly apparent that it was intentional, as shown by Brent’s sharp, blood-coated claws.

A look of worry creeps onto his face as he starts to heal his friend. He feels ashamed that two of his housemates have been in so much pain, and his wings droop in sorrow. Suddenly, the yard door creaks open, almost startling him out of healing.

“Nick?” He asks, confusion almost overlapping his worry. His housemate’s face goes red at the call out, and he drops the bag within his grasp. “I’m…not even going to ask. Could you maybe help me move Brent? I don’t want to drop him by accident…”

“What-what even happened?” Nick stutters, a nervous grimace on his face as he wanders to the unconscious Brent. Vern shrugs in response, sending his staff away, still very worried. With that, the two awkwardly lift the crocodilian, transferring him to the spare bedroom. Vern decides to wait until he wakes up and requests that his penguin friend stay inside and watch Eevee. Nick agrees, although he seems reluctant to, and leaves with an expression that Vern just can’t quite read.

He’ll just pretend it’s nothing for now.

>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<

His eyes opened to the sight of a familiar angel pacing the floor. Wings fluffed out, and worry scribbled all over him. Reaching a hand to his own face, he only feels very faint scars. Vern must’ve healed him. No wonder the angel looks so concerned. He pauses to wonder if the other had been waiting for him the whole time.

“Brent! Oh, thank goodness you finally woke up!” Vern scrambles over to the bed that he is apparently on, sputtering that he was tripping over his words. He looks just as concerned as he did the day of the Eevee incident. Brent winces, realizing that Vern left his job helping Eevee to simply wait for him to wake up.

“D-do you want to talk about it orrrr…?” His friend mumbles, talking just as fast as before. “Cause I’ve been told I’m a good listener and all…but if you don’t want to, that’s fine too!”

On one hand, he doesn’t want to tell anybody. He doesn't want them to realize how horrible of a person he really is. He doesn’t want to be a monster. But on the other hand, he knows that Vern and the others can all be very understanding and accepting. Maybe it will be better to just tell him. Perhaps it will ease his worries. Maybe he won’t be a monster anymore.

“I-I think I’m a monster. I’ve been feeling h-horrible ever since the d-day w-you helped Eevee. The way he looked at me, it was fucking horrible…Kept thinking about hurting people, and I didn’t want to…I just h-had to punish myself for thinking so horribly and being so awful…” Before he even knew it, he was spilling everything. It felt so vulnerable but also…so right. The look he gets from Vern, full of understanding and worry, makes him think he can trust. He chokes out a sob and finds himself crying thousands of tears onto the angel’s chest.

For at least an hour, it was still, save for Vern gently rubbing his back, giving quiet reassurances that he wasn’t a monster as he sobbed his heart out. He feels safe, and he feels at home. Every horrible emotion that had been overwhelming him for the past few days was starting to fade away.

Maybe he isn’t a monster after all.

“Hey, buddy?” The angel spoke slightly louder, catching his attention. “Would you feel better if you talked to Eevee for a bit? Since that is kinda the reason all of this is happening?”

He freezes at the mention of their rabbit friend. Would it really help to talk with him? Or would it bring him right back to the same damn position again? However, a part of him reminds him that he can’t hide from his friend forever and will eventually have to do something about it. Maybe it will be easier just to do it now.

Slowly but surely, he makes his way up the stairs and eventually to the top floor. As he gets closer to Eevee’s room, the door opens. And Nick is the one to exit? Startled by the penguin’s sudden appearance, he locks eyes with him. The other silently motions towards the door to ask if Brent is entering it. He nods in return, Nick bows his head in understanding, and they part ways. It was odd; he hadn’t seen Nick in a while.

Maybe it’s nothing.

He raises his hand to the cold doorknob, noticing that his claws are out and quickly slipping them back to being non-visible. As an extra precaution, he slips his gloves on as if he couldn’t claw through them in seconds. It just felt safer. Once again, he reaches out to the doorknob, resting his hand on the brass. Take a deep breath, hold it, and let it out.

He turns his hand, and the door opens.

He first sees that Eevee is up and about, messing with some kind of metal circle. Typical rabbit behavior. At the sound of the door, the rabbit looks up, noticing Brent. He instantly feels himself start to sweat. He feels it would be effortless for him to mess this up.

“Hey Brent! Haven’t seen you in a while!” He’s shocked when Eevee speaks so excitedly and kindly to him, as if nothing happened. It’s nice, but it doesn't make sense. Why isn’t he scared anymore? Wouldn’t he hate Brent right now?

“I, uh, I’m sorry. Sorry that I scared you so badly the other day, sorry that I didn’t come to see you after, sorry that I kept thinking about hurting you. I really didn’t want to, and I-!” A hand to his face promptly shuts him up. He widens his eyes in surprise.

“Brent, that wasn’t your fault. The only reason I got scared was because everyone was surrounding me. I was hurting really bad, and I just got overwhelmed. I didn’t mean to make you push yourself away, and I’m sorry that I let my instincts take over me like that. I’m not mad at you, and I don’t want you to tear yourself apart because of something like that.” He’s stunned that Eevee not only forgives him but also seems to understand to an extent. It brings a pleasant smile, and he’s glad he came to see his friend.

“Alright, now cut the sob shit ‘cause I’ve decided that I want to throw pillows at you! Better run!” Brent chuckles at the rabbit’s quick subject change, earning himself a pillow right to the face. Immediately, he snatches it and approaches his friend with a chaotic grin.

“Oh, it is on now, Eevee!”

He laughs and smiles, reassured that he isn’t a monster after all.

Chapter Text

Being in the house was suffocating, and the quiet was overwhelming. It had never been this quiet before. No one talked to him anymore, which hadn’t ever happened before. It just doesn’t feel fair, which in itself is entirely unfair. Eevee had needed help after all, and Brent had done something to himself that was also worth concern, but now that’s all that has Vern’s attention.

Meaning that he was left behind in the dust.

He’d never been one for talking things out or doing emotions. It’s always been easier to make jokes and tease when something goes wrong; if it’s awful, he just shuts his mouth. Simple, right?

At least it was simple before. Now? This is the longest he’s ever gone without talking to his friends, save for a few short sentences. Unlike what the others think, He hasn’t been going to get more supplies. Those were just backups he kept in the shed. He hasn’t really gone anywhere. Only place he’s been is the old tree stump near the outskirts of the forest.

His “wings” itch again. Stupid, pathetic excuses for wings always knew how to irritate him. I always urged him to run away and never come back. They were hardly even wings. Just another thing about him that isn’t enough to be worth something.

Tossing a spare dagger at a tree, he glances up lazily to see it missed. Typical. He always misses his target anyway. It doesn’t make sense. What kind of rouge misses most of their attacks anyway? His parents were right; he couldn’t be an excellent rogue. It was ridiculous and childish. He wasn’t even supposed to be in this climate. It was practically freezing here compared to Chile.

Putting his face in his hands, he sighs. How did he ever think he could live this life? Have these friends? Contribute anything? Thinking this deeply into everything is almost as exhausting as dealing with this alone.

Though he supposes he’s not entirely alone, he has weird people in his head, which is unsurprising as they are always there. Are they even real people, or just voices? Or are they just figments of his imagination that he made up to deal with being pushed aside? He doesn’t know anymore.

He isn’t even being pushed aside anymore, so why are the voices still here? His place in this world has been made now, hasn’t it? Why does he still feel alone when he’s made so many good friends? What is he doing wrong?

The flood of questions hurts his head, and his “wings” itch. He’s sick of being so lost and confused all the time.

All of a sudden, he feels an all too familiar sensation. What was going on? This hasn’t happened in at least a month. His world becomes blurry, and everything else starts to fade. A distorted voice tries to speak to him through the feeling, but he can’t make out any of the words. Yet again, the surface cushions him like a soft pillow, and he’s pushed to the back of his mind, only a passenger in his own body.

>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<

After being fixed up by Vern and after talking with Eevee, he tries to make himself more comfortable around them. However, it still doesn’t feel complete. It’s always supposed to be the four of them, so where is Nick? Things don’t feel right without him.

Today, he’s determined to fix that. He's committed to bringing his friends closer again so everything can be as it was. He’s going to find Nick and bring him back.

A few thoughts quickly flood into his mind. What if Nick is in danger? What if Nick wants to avoid coming back? What if-?

He shakes his head to clear his mind. Panicking is not what he needs to do at the moment.

Carefully, he peels his gloves off his hands. It will be best to have his claws easy to access in case Nick is in danger. That’s one thing he can prepare for. He just has to pray that Nick will want to come back because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t.

Opening the screen door, he feels a light breeze wash over him. It’s a suitable temperature, not too warm or too cold for his crocodilian self. However, he quickly realizes that it is probably quite chilly for Nick because, despite the Arctic penguin jokes, his friend is from Chile. Hopefully, the penguin hasn’t frozen over yet.

Carefully treading through the yard, he looks around for his friend in worry. Through the trees, he sees a flash of orange. He blinks and it’s gone. Before he even knows it, he’s running to where the orange had been.

When he reaches Nick, the penguin is sitting calmly on the forest floor, twisting together some flowers. He’s thankful to see that his friend isn’t in physical pain for once, but it’s concerning that he’s acting like this. It’s not normal.

“Hey, Brent!” A soft voice startles him out of his staring. It’s Nick’s voice, but it just sounds wrong. Nick never speaks that softly. This is weird.

The other must sense his confusion, because he sighs and ties up the last of the flowers. Gently, Nick trodds over to him, placing the flower crown onto his head,

“This will probably sound weird and confusing, but I’m not precisely Nick. I’m kind of in control right now because he was really stressed out, " the person explains. Nick's head is still fuzzy and lost, but if he has been living with this for years, he might as well adapt now.

“Oh, sorry but I forgot to mention that I’m Daisy, and am notably a woman, not a man.” How about we just go back inside the house?”

He nods, and follows her into the house, a million questions running through his mind, but that doesn’t matter now. He just needs to be there for people, whether it’s Nick or Daisy.

>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<

The first thing he does when he wakes from his state of half consciousness is scream. Immediately a hand is rubbing circles around his back and a cup is thrust into his hand. Blinking warily a few times, he gets the blur out of his eyes, and spots his friends sitting around him. He can’t remember what happened before.

Opening his mouth to ask what had happened, he’s immediately cut off by Brent, who tells him something along the lines of ‘There’s this other person that lives in your head named Daisy and she took over to give you a break’. He’s not exactly sure if that’s what was actually said though. His brain is still foggy.

Normally, he’d freak out over news like that, but he surprisingly feels calmer after hearing it. Knowing that someone helped him get a much needed break was really heartwarming, and was honestly something they all needed.

For the first time in a while, he felt himself lean into Vern’s bone crushing hugs more, pay attention to Eevee’s ridiculous rants more, and appreciate Brent’s protective looming presence more. Nick realizes he doesn’t need to run away to find a home, when his home has been in front of him the whole time.

Chapter Text

ok so, i have obviously not updated this in a LONG time (and honestly i kinda forgot about it)

this is because i’ve been really busy, and in recent times i’ve been stressed out as well. this just kind of made me forget to work on this story.

but don’t worry! this isn’t going to be a work i leave unfinished, since the fic literally almost done and it would be annoying to just leave off the last chapter. i will be trying to work on this fic over a break that i’m about to have, and will hopefully get it done soon!

in addition to this, i’ve also been considering writing another fic, but am a little undecided on what it should be. here are some of my current ideas if you’d like to give any opinions, requests, or recommendations!:
-super hero/villain story (nick, eevee, and brent try to convert vernias to villainy)
-crime story (this one is a bit complicated coz i’ve been thinking on it for a while. so editors under their boss magicthenoah make eevee in a lab, but they made a mistake in his creation by using one of many shattered pieces of a red gem and eevee creates a lot of chaos, and then escapes to create even more chaos and find more of the gems. the lab workers realize they need to catch eevee before people find out so they don’t get sued. cue mercenary vernias and assassin nick. both of them really dislike each other, and absolutely hate to work together. however, noah doesn’t really care that they hate each other and sets them up to both work on getting eevee back. once they find out, they’re both really mad, but work on the job anyways. shenanigans ensue. meanwhile, brent is the leader of a crime empire, but he needs to do or get something big and grand so he can get his name out there. once he hears about the red gems, he’s after them as well.)
-universe breaking story (eevee gets fed up with his bad luck and loosing and tries to do something about it. i have multiple ideas for this and one of them is rlly dark but idk abt that version)
-party crashers: cat edition (nick, brent, and eevee are werecats and accidentally are adopted by vern. thats literally it)
-party animals (they are all cursed into animals and want to become humans again, so they go on a quest)

Chapter Text

Pale moonlight is shining in through the plaid curtains, illuminating the small living room. With a sigh, he collapses onto the couch, catching a small wood figure before it falls and makes a loud noise. His housemates are all asleep, and he’s finally taking time to be by himself.

Setting the woodwork where it belongs, he takes a moment to just breathe. He feels like he needs it after everything that has happened. Then, he thinks about what has been happening and…

…This week has been absolute hell. Sure, there’s been some nice moments, but so much has happened that he has barely gotten a wink of sleep. Barely got any time to himself either and-

No, no, no, no, no! He smacks himself in order to immediately shut out that train of thought. That was selfish thinking and he’s an angel after all! One of his vows is to care for others selflessly, making his previous train of thought a big no!

Perhaps he should just sleep now. Since it is late at night and he finally is able to rest. But what if something happens and they need someone to be awake? What if they need someone to keep watch? Maybe he just needs to be awake a little while longer. After all, someone needs to get the stains off the kitchen rug from the incident a few days ago.

That incident is still putting him on edge after all this time. The fact that he wasn’t able to prevent it gives him chills. What kind of protector fails to keep their friends safe? He really is messing up all his angelic vows.

Softly, he treads over to the kitchen, looking down at the scene with unease. Biting his tongue, he urges himself not to think about it. ‘It’s in the past,’ he assures himself.

Yet the dread still crawls under his skin, ripping at his veins and taking out his very own blood. His sweat mixes with the rug as he scrubs it violently. He ignores it and keeps going.

With a woozy brain, his scrubs get less and less frequent. Vision wavering, he struggles to find the stain that he means to be cleaning. It feels as though he’s traveling through dimensions and time. Feels like falling slow, yet fast. As if lungs were breathing, and also not. Like being awake, but also asleep.

He’s alive, but yet he’s also as dead as a corpse can be.

Then, he’s laid to rest in his very own hellish mind of a graveyard.

>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<

At random, he’s jerked out of sleep. Which honestly sucks because the flying animals that has been surrounding him were awesome as fuck. However, as much as he wants to curl up and go back to bed, he is kind of hungry. He could go back to bed normally, or he could go back to bed with a yummy snack. The second option is definitely better.

Stretching out his arms, he almost reaches for his hat, but remembers that he’s with friends and that he doesn’t need it. Having his ears out will probably help him anyways.

Pushing himself off the bed, he shakes his legs to try them out. If they aren’t gonna cooperate with him then he’s gonna have a lot of problems getting snacks. Luckily, today seems to just be a fatigue day, with his shoulders super achey, but no sharp pains. Good.

Thankfully, he’s skilled at walking very quietly, so he knows he can make it down the stairs without waking anyone. As he makes it to the last couple steps, there’s some light creaking that causes him to freeze in his steps. If anyone finds out that he’s awake they’ll just fuss over him really dramatically. He knows that they care for him, and he’s thankful for it, but sometimes they’re a little much.

Once he’s on the ground floor, he realizes that it’s pitch black downstairs. He curses under his breath for not bringing his staff with him for a light. Rabbits can’t see that well in the dark after all!

Anyways, he then uses his amazing sneaking skills to creep into the land of the kitchen. He’s about to grin, but then his nose twitches, and something smells…wrong. Again. As much as he hopes it’s left over from the incident a few days ago, he knows it's new. And even worse than that, he knows it’s Vern.

“Shit, shit, shit! What did you do, Vern? What the fuck!” He hisses, his anxiety levels pumping to the max. Squinting, he tries to see his housemate friend, but can only make out the vague shape.

As he gets closer, the smell of blood fills his nostrils, startling him before he realizes that it’s old. That’s good. At least Vern isn’t bleeding.

Carefully, he pushes against the shape of the angel in the dark, debating what he should even do in this circumstance. He should probably move the guy to the couch. That sounds like a good course of action.

Clasping onto an appendage so he can pull Vern, he jumps when he realizes that it’s a wing. Definitely should not pull there, he's pretty sure wings are fragile. He maneuvers his hands over to a leg and begins to pull. Unfortunately, it seems that Vern is most definitely heavier than him and he struggles to pull the angel towards the couch.

Once more, he tries to pull the body towards himself, but it instead results in him knocking himself backwards with a loud thud. He groans, realizing that he probably just awoke his other two housemates friends.

In just a few minutes, he’s proven correct as he senses a tired penguin and an exhausted crocodile, along with his and Vernias’ staffs. The glow of the staffs illuminate their disgruntled faces.

“Eevee? Vern? You guys alright?” He hears Nick call out to him, but ignores it in favor of summoning his staff from Brent’s hand. Reaching out his open hand, the staff with the red gem is ripped from the crocodile’s hand, startling him into stumbling.

Silently, he turns on the lights with his staff’s magic.

All of the sudden, everyone is looking at Vern. Now that he can see him, the poor angel is passed out on the floor with a damp rag and the dirty rug. He must’ve been trying to clean it. Weird, he should’ve been sleeping.

He blinks and sees Brent carrying their friend over to the couch and setting him down. Making his way over there, he watches as Nick brushes the hair off of Vern’s face, before going over to the wings to make him more comfortable.

His crocodile friend returns (he hadn't even noticed him leave) with an arm full of blankets and pillows. Together, they start to set them down to cushion the floor, before flopping down on them.

Right before fading off into sleep, he thinks about how Vern didn’t have to work this hard for all of them. They truly didn’t deserve the angel.

Then, he dozes off into a calming rest, with loved ones near him.

>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*<

When he opens his eyes, the light is blinding and he immediately throws an arm over his face. As soon as he does so, he realizes it’s not his own arm and shrieks. In response he only hears light laughter, and peers up to see a familiar rabbit.

“Morning sleepyhead! You kinda like, passed out last night, which was super concerning by the way, but that’s besides the point! We realized you haven’t been taking care of yourself, so we helped you out by getting you some much needed rest! It’s around late afternoon now, so we’ve just been taking turns watching you in the least creepy way possible.” Eevee then begins to ramble about something else, probably relating to something dumb Nick did earlier. It’s hard to focus on anything since him passing out last night.

He isn’t really sure what to say, since he wasn’t really expecting anyone to help take care of him. He’s the one who should be taking care of everyone else! That’s practically his job!

“-and it was honestly so hilarious and oh! Wait! Nick and Brent said that I’m supposed to tell you that just because you take care of us doesn’t mean you have to always do it! You can definitely take breaks and take care of yourself! Plus, you work wayyyy too hard anyways, and it’s becoming a problem for you. But yeah, please take care of yourself. As your patient, I demand you take care of yourself!”

He hesitates, unsure of what to say again, but is once again interrupted by an outside force. Looking over, he sees Brent and Nick enter the home, seemingly having restocked their food. They turn to look over at the couch and their jaws drop as they see him awake.

A smile finds its way onto his face as they quickly shove the food away before running to him. Being surrounded by all of his friends creates a warm and fuzzy feeling within him.

They begin to talk, and laugh, and joke, and smile, the sensation of peace seemingly tying them up in a bow. That’s when he realizes that when everyone takes care of each other, they’re close knit, like a blanket. This is how he wants it to always be.

All of them, wrapped within the living, breathing, loving embrace of each other for all their days.