Archive of Our Own

Chaos. In a matter of only a day and a half, the entire world became chaos. Ink had a suspicion in only a few days more, the entire multiverse would fall into madness. But they still had a little bit of time before that would happen. The multiverse hadn’t discovered yet, the ripples of insanity had yet to cascade from the center. Ink only wished he could be in the blissful bubble of ignorance too, no matter how briefly it would last. Instead, he was trapped in the study that once gave him great comfort, but was now a den of anarchy as the screaming voices of loved ones and previous enemies were overpowering each other. He curled deeper into the sofa underneath him, clutching the soft yellow blanket with a sun in its center closer to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried in vain to tune the voices out.

“I know this is all a bit strange, but I’m sure if we just- Put aside our differences, we’ll be able to be a team-!”

“Why would we ever want to be a team with you?” Blue’s undying optimism appeared to fall on deaf ears as Dust interrupted him with a snarl.

“Well- I- We were on opposite sides before, but now…”

“We’re only on the ‘same side’ because we were forced to.” Killer snapped.

“Yes, but we can still get along!” Blue clung onto hope despite essentially getting ganged up on, “We’ve even proven some of it already! Right, Horror?”

“I…” Horror’s deep voice trailed off, not confirming or denying Blue’s hopeful question.

“Oh, yeah right.” Dust scoffed. A few loud footsteps indicated that he closed the gap between them. By his sneer, Ink could imagine him jabbing a finger onto Blue’s shoulder, probably making him stumble back from their stark height difference, “Horror wouldn’t want to be ‘pals’ with you pathetic goody two shoes. None of us will. So stop pushing that fucking stupid idea-”

Dust was suddenly cut off as a familiar sound of magical strings entangling a new victim filled the room, immediately being followed by his foul cursing.

“Lay off. He didn’t do anything to you.” Even though Error’s voice was in a low and threatening tone, just the mere fact that he was there was enough to help the storm of overwhelming emotions inside Ink’s chest.

Ink squeezed his eyes tighter, Dust’s infuriated cursing only increasing in severity in the background. A part of him wanted to do something to alleviate the horrible feelings. Error’s presence helped, but… not enough. He was so tired of feeling this way. He longed to feel the way he did before, just a few days prior. With all the hope and carefree joy he could have ever asked for. He longed to feel anything other than the suffocating dark cloud pressing over him, threatening to snuff out all the air before it had a chance to even reach his lungs. 

For the millionth time, Ink’s mind wandered to that tempting yellow vial. Couldn’t he have just a little sip? It would certainly help him feel better, even if it was… induced. He could deal with the horrible mind games taking his vials gave him later. If he just took the vial now, he would definitely be more of a help to his friends and new teammates. Just one little sip, that’s all it took. That would be enough to transform him into an actually helpful ally, much more than he was being now as an useless lump on the couch.

His finger grazed against smooth glass. Ink froze, realizing his hand had moved to gently touch the yellow vial. With a shudder, Ink shoved his hand back down and clutched the yellow blanket even tighter, hooking his fingers into the soft fabric as he subsequently curled into a smaller ball. No, he couldn’t do that. As uncomfortable as the negative emotions were, that had to be his new normal now. The positive emotions were off-limits for the foreseeable future. He couldn’t risk giving any more power to him, even if he wasn’t truly sure if he was capable of giving power to him or not due to his lack of… soul. He just had to keep off the positive emotions, just in case. That’s what he wanted after all.

“Didn’t do anything- Sure he did!” Dust’s voice seemingly rocketed off the walls, “He’s getting on my last fucking nerve!”

Blue’s gasp sounded offended, “T-there’s no need to be so rude-!”

Killer’s voice joined in on the screaming, “Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it, ya boy scout?!”

“I said, lay off! Can’t you guys act civil for once in your miserable lives?”

“You can’t say shit!” Killer turned on Error, “What makes you think we listen to traitors like you?!”

Error snorted, “I’m not a ‘traitor,’ I didn’t betray anything-”

“Yeah, ya did! When you jumped ship and played tea party with the Star Shits for stars knows how long!”

“I was never a part of your stupid team anyway! Honestly, it was a mistake on his part for continuing to invite me to ‘secret meetings’ even though I made it clear I wasn’t affiliated with you guys.” Ink had a suspicion of who Error was referring to, but didn’t want to turn over and see who he most certainly nodded toward.

“You leave Boss’s name out of your fucking mouth! You wish you were just twice the leader he is-!”

“Enough!” Nightmare’s voice finally joined the fray. It was strained, probably in some poor attempt to make it the frightening, distorted roar he had gotten used to relying on to silence people. However, with his sore lack of corruption, his previously effective fear tactics now came across more as pathetic. Noises of a body sliding down smooth wood told Ink that Nightmare had probably slumped down in his chair. He could imagine the steely glare he was giving everyone in the room as he growled, “Maybe I don’t want to be leader anymore. Who says it has to be me?”

If Ink was in a lighter mood, he may have cracked a smile at the mental image. Here Nightmare was; the same old cruel, manipulative, and calculative monster with a barbed tongue. But everything that made him truly scary was gone. No more black sludge covering him from top to bottom, nor the distorted quality to his voice to make him sound less like an actual person and more akin to some demon from the underworld. Gone were his tentacles that moved as if they had life of their own, and gone was his cold, piercing cyan eyelight, now replaced with his original two of an almost comically soothing shade of violet.

In all honesty, it was if he were just a normal, everyday skeleton Ink would encounter in some AU. The most unthreatening, unassuming, and gentlemanly skeleton he would ever meet, that assumption only made stronger with the princely attire he was currently wearing. It was in hilarious contrast to his personality, the same infamous one everyone in the multiverse knew and associated with the King of Darkness.

Ink wanted to let out a little laugh at the thought, but sharply curbed his enthusiasm. As tempting as it was to find humor in such a bleak situation, he couldn’t do it. Not when that’s what he wanted. It was only a matter of time before the multiverse found out. And by then, he would undoubtedly be starved for positive emotions. Even though he didn’t… exactly let his concern show, he had to know what was going to happen. As such, he would cling onto and ravage as much positivity as he could possibly find, all to prepare for the long winter rapidly approaching.

Ink wasn’t going to be the one to give him that… if he even had the potential to give him that. They needed to keep him weak. There would be no chance in hell they’d be able to succeed if he got strong.

“Well, tough luck, buttercup.” Error was making it significantly harder for Ink to keep from snorting, “You were pretty much sworn into the role after everything.”

“Sworn- How was I sworn in?!” Nightmare snapped. Some noises of clothes rustling followed, probably a good indication he was gesturing awkwardly with his hands. He had been left floundering after his dismissive “hand” waves that he’d do with his tentacles were suddenly ripped from him, “Sure, I was the leader of this whole gang of idiots, but now I… You imbeciles said yourself that things had changed! So why am I made the de facto leader now?”

“‘Cus you’ll always be boss, Boss!” Killer’s shout was filled with admiration.

“I-” Nightmare seemed to be at a loss for words.

“We’ll always follow you, Boss,” Horror’s deep voice sounded surprisingly gentle, “no matter… what form you’re in.”

Dust snarled, sounding almost like he was coming from above, “Yeah, and besides; we’d never take orders from these bastards anyway.” He seemed to be directing his voice down to a specific person. Oh, right. Error probably still had him tied up.

“Exactly,” Error grumbled, clearly irritated by the truth in Dust’s statement, “so it only makes sense at this point…”

“But- I-!” Nightmare didn’t seem to be swayed by their words. The slam of two hands hitting a desk made Ink jump and he cautiously shot a look over his shoulder.

Nightmare was glaring at all of them as they stood in the study that previously belonged to his brother. His violet eyes were blazing as he had stood up from behind the desk, the stained glass window gleaming brilliantly behind him, “Get yourself some other leader.” The low snarl that rumbled from Nightmare was the closest he had ever gotten to his old warped voice. His eyes snapped over to Ink, their eyes briefly meeting before Ink abruptly turned back over, staring at the back of the sofa as a chill overtook his body. The golden blanket that smelled of daffodils wasn’t giving him as much comfort as he would have liked, probably due to the pain in his fingers from how horribly tight he was clutching it. He squeezed his eyes shut with a shudder as Nightmare’s low voice came from behind, “Why not him? He’s the god of creation, is he not? Why not have him lead this sorry excuse of a ‘team?’”

Blue’s stammers as he tried to explain why that wouldn’t be a good idea without coming right out and saying it were ignored. Outcry from every previous adversary erupted at once.

“But, Boss! He’s tiny!” Horror bemoaned, Ink narrowing his eyes as apparently his size was the difference between him being a good leader or not.

“Are you kidding me?! Hell no! What’s he got; the brain the size of a fucking pea?! ” Dust’s roar bounced off every hard surface in the room. Ink frowned. These insults were really starting to sting.

“Boss, ya know I’d be willing to follow you anywhere, but him?!” Killer could not have sounded more dumbfounded if he tried. He didn’t have to act so shocked. Ink glared ahead of him as he could just see the butthead waving both arms at him in his mind’s eye, “If we ignore every glaring problem with that, just the fact that he’s been nothing but a useless lump this entire fucking time should tell you that’s a bullshit idea-!”

“Okay, you fucking assholes, enough!” Sounds of more strings exploding outward filled the room, “Leave him alone!”

“Aww, is a glitchy witchy mad?” Killer cooed in a condescending tone, “Did I hurt his wittle boyfriend’s feelings? Oh nooo, is he going to cry? I bet he’s going to cry, oooh, how could I-”

Killer cut off with a pained cry as Error roared, “I hope you enjoyed having two arms, you pathetic piece of-!”

“Error!” Ink shouted. All previous noises of an impending scuffle ceased. Ink sat upright, finally turning and observing the scene in front of him.

Everyone was currently looking at him. Error had each of Nightmare’s gang tied up in strings, except for Nightmare himself. He sat in that singular chair behind that desk, a chair that didn’t really belong to him, with his arms crossed. Ink imagined he used to have an irritated expression, but was now just staring at him with wide eyes and a straight line for a mouth. Blue was… hovering underneath Horror as he hung suspended in strings, currently blinking at Ink with owlish eyes. He was frozen with his arms outstretched, as if he… intended on catching a skeleton that easily towered above everyone in the room.

Finally, Error, his body half-turned toward Ink as he had a hand raised to his left socket, royal blue strings connecting the two. His open mouth from his interrupted murderous tirade slowly clicked shut as the entire room was silent, obviously waiting for Ink to continue.

Ink sighed and briefly closed his eyes, “Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt any of them, put them down.” He gazed down at the blanket on his lap, tracing a finger on the orange sun, “They’re right. I wouldn’t make for a very good leader.”

Snickers and hisses of ‘I told you so’ reached Ink’s ears, but he paid no attention to them.

“But they-” Error began.

“Let’s not pretend. My… tendencies… wouldn’t be cut out for it anyway.” Ink didn’t elaborate. He knew that Error would know what he meant. He couldn’t really bring himself to look up, keeping his focus on the blanket that was quickly losing its comforting factor as he spoke again, “So, that… really makes you the best one for the job, Nightmare. Especially considering-”

Ink broke off, flashes of memory stealing his ability to speak. 

Blood.

Screams.

A wave of such strong magic, it threw him off his feet.

“E-especially c-con-considering-” Ink stared through the blanket, trying to speak in an understandable manner despite it feeling more like he was tearing the words out by force.

His trembling hand reaching for Blue, lying still on the ground.

His own pleads barely registering in his skull as he begged him to wake up.

A hand on his shoulder.

Error shouting something at him, expression frantic as he clutched his bleeding shoulder.

Pushing away. Racing toward his other friend. He’s still alive, right? Please say he’s still alive.

Pulling a body into his lap. Please be okay. You’ll be okay, you have to be. Please help. There’s too much blood, there’s too much bl-

Wait… 

This isn’t blood.

Then pain. Blinding. Ripping. Pain.

Ink didn’t even realize he was bordering awfully close to hyperventilating as he just stared down at the blanket. His vision was blurry and shaking, the fact that he was neglecting to blink probably contributing to that. He became uncomfortably aware of the bandages upon bandages covering his body as they hid underneath his baggy clothes, something they all decided on since it was unanimously agreed that Nightmare and his gang wouldn’t be able to take them seriously if they met up covered in bandages. Ink couldn’t hide his under his normal clothes like the other two, they were too tight. Besides, the other two weren’t… ripped into like he was.

Ink snapped his eyes shut, focusing on his shaky breathing. In truth, he had only been conscious for the past two hours. He had pushed to have the meeting with Nightmare despite Error, Blue and Cross’s protests. It was only a matter of time before the multiverse found out after all. They had to become allies as soon as possible. He could pretend to be fine for an hour or so. He was sure the others were hurting too. 

Yet here he was, failing at pretending to be fine. He truthfully failed before Nightmare and his brutes even walked through the door, as the sofa proved to be more of a necessity than a preference due to being unable to stay on his feet for longer than a few minutes at a time.

Ink’s words caught in his throat as flashes of dark crimson appeared all over the blanket in his trembling hands. Just like how his dear friend looked before…

“-just kidding about the crying part!” Whatever Killer was saying before that, Ink didn’t catch, “What’s his deal?! Did he even hear what we just asked?!”

“Nah, I think he zoned the complete hell out.” Dust deadpanned.

“He’s-” Ink thought he noticed Error glancing over his shoulder at him, but couldn’t focus on it as he was still staring through the bloody and… not bloody blanket on his lap, “Fine. That’s just not the point! The point was we bring you here so we can come to a consensus, not to be arguing this whole damn time-!”

“Exactly. We, I, was brought here completely against my will because you miserable do-gooders wouldn’t stop pestering me.” Nightmare hissed, “Especially a certain little brush who has conveniently decided to check out of this arranged ambush shortly after it began. I’m ‘arguing’ because I don’t see how this has anything to do with me! Why, pray tell, does it have to be me who’s the leader? How is it, in any way, shape or form, my responsibility-”

“Because it was YOUR fault!” 

The entire study fell silent from Blue’s scream. Ink was finally snapped out of his daze and looked up. Blue was glaring at Nightmare with fury Ink had never seen him with before. A stray tear trickled out of his eye, but he threw up a blue-gloved hand to wipe it away, “It is your responsibility because none of this would have ever happened if it weren’t for you.” 

Everyone was still stunned speechless as Blue turned on his heel and marched for the door. Ink removed a hand from the yellow blanket and reached for him as he stomped to the study’s door beside the sofa, “Blue-” He began, wishing to help his friend.

“No.” Blue snapped with tightly closed eye sockets. Ink’s outstretched hand faltered. Blue’s expression then turned apologetic as he stopped at the door, looking over to Ink from the corners of his eyes, “I just… need to go for a walk right now.”

With that, he left the room, Ink watching after him as the study door slowly closed back shut.

The room remained silent after Blue’s departure. Error had released everyone from his strings, but was holding onto both of his arms rather tightly, tense as if he were ready to string them up again at a moment’s notice. Horror, Dust, and Killer were… the most uncomfortable Ink had seen them this entire meeting, awkwardly shuffling around or rubbing the back of their skulls.

Nightmare was the most rattled. His whole angry demeanor had fizzled out and he looked as if Blue’s words actually shook him. His eyelights were the size of pinpricks as he stared down at the table underneath his splayed hands. He appeared to not have anything to say, despite his verbose and cruel vocabulary, even when his lackeys were quietly questioning him.

Killer’s face screwed up once his concerned question was ignored for the fourth time. He whirled around and appeared to be glaring at both Ink on the sofa and Error as he stood more near the center of the room, although it was really hard to tell with his lack of eyelights, “We don’t give a shit about what you guys think! We wouldn’t be caught dead working with you bunch of pansies and traitors!”

“Killer…” The skeleton with black streaks down his face jolted as Horror’s rumble had a sort of warning tone to it. Horror was glaring at the back of his skull as he and Dust stood on either side of Nightmare, seemingly trying to bring him back down to earth.

“Er- Fine! How ‘bout we’ll think about it? That good enough for you?” Killer snapped, glaring up at Error who had quite a bit of height on him.

“Make it quick. We don’t have much time.” Error growled.

Ink added onto that with a murmur, watching a teleport window appear as Horror, Nightmare, and Dust wobbled toward it, “Preferably no more than a day.”

“If we still don’t hear from you in a day, I’ll come over there and personally drag your asses back over here-”

“Error.” Ink gave his own warning tone to the skeleton in question.

Error looked over his shoulder and mouthed the word ‘what?’ as Ink signaled his disapproval with a shake of his head. The god who was, arguably, quick to anger thankfully missed Killer sticking his tongue out at him as he turned back around and grumbled, “Just… make it quick.”

Killer and Error appeared to be having a glaring contest, although Ink couldn’t tell exactly with Error’s back turned to him. Finally, Killer let out a snarl, “Fine.” He then turned and hurried after the other three as they walked through the teleport window, the window closing after them with that tell-tale whoosh sound.

Error turned and his voice was low with resigned irritation, “Why’d you shush me, you know I could do it.”

Ink just raised an eyebrow, “Against all four of them?”

Error snorted, making a dismissive hand movement as he approached the sofa, “Pssh, easy. Especially since one of them isn’t all corrupted any… uh…” Error trailed off when he came to a stop in front of the sofa, “The joke isn’t as funny outloud.” He mumbled as he attempted to rub the back of his skull. He winced at the action and clutched his shoulder before he could fully complete it.

Ink stood up and gently pulled Error’s coat back to inspect his shoulder, “I was mainly saying you couldn’t do it because of this. Did you bleed through?”

Error lifted his shirt sleeve to reveal still pristine white bandages, “Doesn’t look like it. Did you?”

Ink’s movement was slow as he gingerly pulled up the bottom of his hoodie, peering down at the bulky bandages wrapped around his entire body. Just the act of pulling up the hoodie hurt, but not like before. He could at least breathe now with only mild discomfort, “Nope. I’m okay.”

As Ink slowly made his way around the arm of the sofa, Error didn’t seem convinced as he hovered over Ink’s shoulder. That was made even more apparent when he spoke, “Are you sure? You had trouble standing before. Do you need to be carried again? ‘Cus I can, wherever you want to go-”

Ink stepped out into the hall from the study with a light chuckle. He didn’t miss the worry in Error’s voice. It was kinda cute, even if he didn’t want him to be too worried for him, “Yeah, I’m okay. Lying down on that couch helped a lot.”

“Are you really sure? Because it’s no problem-”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Ink laughed, turning and pulling Error down by his coat’s lapel so he didn’t have to struggle to cup his cheeks, “I’m okay, I think I’m going to…” He trailed off as something caught his gaze.

Further down the hall was the glass door leading out to the balcony. Cross was out there, standing at the railing, his scarf being blown by a gentle breeze as he looked out at the sunset. Ink had no idea how long he had been there. Perhaps the entire meeting. They did basically force the poor guy to sit the meeting out due to how… unstable his emotions had been.

“I’m going to go back to bed after I… check on him.” Ink murmured, head still turned as he gazed at Cross with a melancholy expression.

“Good,” Ink felt Error’s face move between his hands, seemingly content to remain in that leaned down position as Ink cupped his cheeks, “I’ll go check on Blue.”

Ink only let out a weak affirmative noise to let him know that he heard him, focusing most of his attention on turning to meet him as he had leaned in closer. Ink kissed him back with as much gentle affection as he could muster with his little strength, hoping he could convey all the gratitude he had for him in one kiss.

He didn’t have to hope for long since Error’s tender gaze as he leaned back said that he got the message, “Now go. Don’t take too long though, you need your rest.”

Ink rubbed his cheek with a thumb as he let out a small laugh, “You do too, silly.”

“Yep, I’ll see you in a bit.” Error smirked, causing the both of them to break into a small bout of laughter. However, it was cut short as memories of recent events flooded both of their minds. Ink let his head fall as a wave of guilt crashed into him. It wasn’t fair of them to be happy. Not when they had a friend who needed their help. Not when they had multiple friends who needed their help.

“It’ll be okay.” Error murmured, Ink looking up to meet his gaze again. It was dark and sad, making Ink wonder if he felt as guilty as he did, “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Yeah… thank you, Ruru.” Ink pushed through the feeling and gave him a small smile. He leaned in and shared one last quick kiss with him before they parted ways. Ink watched Error leave, waving back as he waved over his shoulder. He waited a moment before he popped back into the study and retrieved the yellow blanket. Stepping back out, he approached the glass door leading out to the balcony. He supposed this little blanket might provide Cross with some comfort, like it did him.

The door was silent as Ink opened it to step out onto the balcony. The breeze was pleasant as it blew against him, reminding him of a fair spring day.

Cross seemed to not hear him, his back turned to him as he still stood there at the railing, gazing off into the rest of the Omega Timeline as it quietly sat far down the hill from them. The lights of the faraway buildings were starting to turn on and become more visible due to the setting sun. From how small and twinkling they looked, they reminded Ink of little fireflies, or perhaps even little fairies, all gathered together in the dark evening grass before they took flight. 

Ink came up to the railing beside him, taking in the pretty scene too. He had plenty of entries in his sketchbook of this exact scene, their little home base overlooking the rest of the Omega Timeline as it sat secluded in its own little garden. He never really got tired of it. The twinkling lights of the city and the soft pinks, oranges, yellows, and lavenders of a setting sun were always fun to try and recreate.

He briefly closed his eyes as those memories hurt much more now. He’d always be so engrossed in his art, he would forget to eat. It was always a certain someone who would come out there to the balcony, tray of tea and treats in golden-gloved hands, a warm smile on his face as his light teasing rang through the air.

They would have that again. They just needed to hold onto hope.

Ink let out a small sigh, “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

Cross jumped and harshly turned to Ink with a startled expression. His eyes flashed with recognition and he deflated with what seemed like relief, “Oh, it’s you.”

Ink couldn’t help his chuckles, looking over at Cross as he turned back to the railing, “I didn’t mean to scare you. But it’s… kinda funny. I thought you’d make a noise when you got scared.”

Cross let out a scoff, “Royal Guards don’t scream.”

“Well, sure they do. When they’re going out into battle.”

Ink let out a weird noise as he attempted to stifle his abrupt laughter at the judgemental look Cross was giving him. Cross gave an exaggerated eye roll and looked away again, “It’s called a battlecry.”

“Still sounds like screaming to me,” Ink winked at Cross as he added, delighting in his resigned and irritated expression, “just angry flavored.” 

Cross let out a long sigh and shook his head, glaring out at the scenery around them. Ink followed his glare, chuckling at the annoyance he could feel radiating off him. His chuckles trailed off as he got lost in his thoughts. He liked their home base and all the memories it had with it.

He just wished they would stop being so painful remembering now.

“So, you’re… done with the meeting?”

Ink was shaken out of his thoughts by Cross’s murmur. He shrugged and answered, “Yeah, it’s done.”

“Did they agree?”

“Not yet. But they will.” Ink just stared down at the city far down the hill from them through lidded eyes. A heavy weight seemed to lie over all of him as he added in a sigh, “They have to.”

Neither spoke for a long moment, just taking in the gentle atmosphere as the sun slowly sunk further and further. The pleasant breeze was becoming colder, making Ink glad he was in a warm hoodie and sweatpants, never mind the dozens of heavy bandages covering him underneath.

Finally, Cross spoke, letting his head fall into his hands as he leaned on the balcony’s railing, “Ink, I… I’m sorry. I should have been there…”

Ink gave him a quizzical look, concern blossoming in his chest over his friend, “Cross, we told you we didn’t want you in the meeting because-”

“No, not that.” Cross quickly snapped, his shoulders becoming tense as he clutched onto his head tighter, eyes squeezed shut.

“Then… what?” Ink made his voice deliberately quiet and gentle. He could feel the stress coming off of Cross and it was really beginning to worry him.

“There!” Cross shouted. He threw his head back and his voice rose in even greater volume, “Back then! It’s- It’s not fair!” He whirled toward Ink, making him slightly stumble back at his erratic movement and slight unhinged look in his eye, “You, Error, Blue-! It’s not fair, it’s- Not right, Ink! How is it right that I’m the only one who walked out of there without a single, fucking scratch on me? How?!”

“It’s because you were helping the civilians.” Ink’s voice was much quieter than Cross. Concern for him increased by the moment. If you asked him, it wasn’t right that Cross couldn’t see the importance of what he did that day the way Ink knew everyone else could, “You were helping all the people get somewhere safe… remember? If it weren’t for you, so many more people would have died.”

“But I should have been there. There’s no excuse.” Cross snarled.

Ink narrowed his eyes as he argued, “Yes, there was. If anyone had an excuse, it was you. You were saving people-”

Cross threw a hand onto Ink’s shoulder, abruptly cutting him off, “But I didn’t save you! And look what happened!”

Flashes of memory shot through Ink and he was frozen stiff, unable to retort back as the unwelcome memories assaulted his mind in rapid succession.

Cross continued on, seemingly unaware of what he did to Ink, “Sure, I saved a bunch of people, but I- I didn’t save all of them. I didn’t save you, I didn’t save Blue, I didn’t save Error, I didn’t-!” His furious eyelights suddenly flashed with a horrible, haunted look, “I didn’t… save…”

His voice didn’t have time to get choked up as he shut himself off. He let his head fall and seemed to be staring through the balcony underneath them. His whole body was trembling, if his shaking hand as it weakly clutched Ink’s shoulder didn’t make that apparent enough.

The assault of memories subsided and Ink was able to focus on the current situation. He carefully reached out and placed his own hand on Cross’s shoulder, “But you saved hundreds, Cross. You helping Core is what allowed us to keep them from progressing further, from killing even more. You’re a hero. I know that…” Ink paused, collecting his breath so his own voice didn’t hitch. Even still, his voice was barely above a whisper as he coaxed Cross to look back up at him, “Dream was so proud of you.”

“But what use is that?” Cross growled, bitter tears pricking the edges of his eyes, “He was ‘proud’ of me. But what good is that? What use is being able to save so many people if I couldn’t save him.”

Ink couldn’t help the small chuckle, “I think we both know what he would say to that.” He put the blanket over his shoulder and carefully pulled Cross closer to him, pressing his forehead against his chest as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He patted him on the back and continued, oblivious to the sort of… awkward, leaned over position Cross was in as he attempted to comfort him, “He would tell you that even just one life saved would have been worth it. So, the fact that you saved way more than that would have made him extremely proud. He would have been gushing over you so much, it would have gotten old.” Ink’s smile turned more melancholy as he added, “Then he’d probably be lecturing you for being so down about it. ‘You don’t mean to tell me that saving those lives wasn’t worth it, do you?’” Ink mimicked the words he could just see his friend saying, sternly waving a golden-gloved finger as he put his other hand on his hip.

Ink’s weak chuckles increased when Cross’s deeper ones joined in, rumbling from underneath his arms as he was still pressed against his chest. He let him go as Cross straightened up, small smile on his face as he murmured, “He probably would have, huh?”

Crossing his arms, Ink snorted, “Oh, I know he would have. He was always ‘keeping things in perspective’ whether you really wanted to or not.”

A bright laugh answered him, “Oh yeah, that’s him alright. Always thinking about the bigger picture.” Cross’s smile faltered and his white eyelights glanced away, “But I don’t think he could have… foreseen this.”

Silence enveloped the two for a brief moment, Cross’s expression painfully hurt and Ink’s forlorn as he gazed down at their feet, their scarves gently being blown by the wind. Eventually, Ink looked back up, putting a gentle hand on Cross’s shoulder once again, “It’ll be okay, you’ll see. We’ll get him back.”

The weary soldier did not look up, just silently staring down in the space between them. Finally, a whisper left his mouth, almost being stolen away by the gentle breeze around them, “How?”

Ink had a bittersweet smile as he repeated the words Error told him, “We’ll figure it out. Together.” He then took the soft yellow blanket off his shoulder, holding it out to Cross as he murmured, “Here. This helped me a little bit in the meeting. I thought it would… help you out too. Probably more than me.”

Cross’s hands shook when he hesitantly took the blanket from Ink. He was speechless for a long moment before he finally managed to choke out a hoarse whisper, “I remember this…”

Ink let the tears more openly gather in his eyes than Cross allowed himself. He smiled as he let out a choked laugh, such sweet and painful memories of Cross, Dream and that blanket floating through his head. How he caught them on numerous occasions, snuggled up under the blanket together, dozing off, thinking they were being so sneaky by hiding in Dream’s study under the pretense of ‘work.’ They weren’t nearly as sneaky as they liked to think they were, “Yeah, I found it. It was under Dream’s pillow.”

Cross’s struggle against keeping tears from forming seemed to increase as he weakly chuckled, “Really? So that’s where it’s been all this time…”

The two of them shared a laugh at the situation. They were both filled with the same emotions; the lighthearted joy at such a sweet discovery, and the deep pain at the knowledge of what they had now. As well as the worry of these sweet discoveries never having the opportunity of happening again.

They eventually ceased laughing, falling into an understanding quiet. Cross broke it first, reaching outward and pulling Ink into an embrace. Ink could hear his quiet whisper from beside his ear, “Thank you.”

Ink was frozen from the action, facial features twitching as the embrace sent waves of pain flooding through him. The unexpected act of affection awakened the agony he had been poorly keeping at bay again. His bones were splitting apart, the horrid cracks that maimed them growing farther and farther with every miniscule movement. His magic supply constantly drained from him as his ecto-body was forced into a state of constant formation, throbbing and aching as it used all its energy to heal the gaping wound.

Ink slowly and stiffly reached his arms up and returned the embrace, swallowing the agonized sounds he almost let out. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced through the pain ripping the inside of him apart as he rested his head on Cross’s shoulder, “N-no problem.” He managed to wheeze out, tightening his hold in a vain attempt to distract himself from the pulsating waves of pain shooting through him.

Cross was rather quick to pull away. Ink realized he may not have been as subtle as he wanted to be, since Cross’s expression was now twisted with worry and concern, “Oh, shit-! I’m sorry, are you okay?! I didn’t- I’m so sorry, I forgot-”

“I’m okay. I’m fine.” Ink waved a dismissive hand, forcing a smile through the agony still assaulting him in violent waves, “I’m not one to turn down a hug, you know.” His laugh abruptly cut off with coughs as it was getting harder to breathe again. He leaned over on the balcony railing, coughing until he couldn’t anymore. Slowly, he opened his eyes again, his vision swimming as Cross worriedly hovered next to him.

Giving him a weak smile, Ink let out a laugh, although it was more a breathless wheeze, “I need to go back to bed now, so you’ll be okay without me, right?”

Cross was giving him a bewildered look before a stressed smile of disbelief flashed across his face, “Me? What about you?! You’re the one that’s about keeled over-!”

Ink shakily lifted a hand to pat Cross’s shoulder, ignoring that he missed the first few times as he wheezed, “Yeah, but you’re the one that wasn’t doing okay. I have to do my part to check on you.” He pulled away from the railing of the balcony, stepping in the direction that led back inside, “So, if you’ll be okay by yourself, then I’m going to-”

He didn’t get to finish what he was saying. As soon as his hand left the support of the railing, his knees buckled out from under him.

Ink opened his eyes from having squeezed them shut, expecting to meet hard stone balcony floor. However, Cross had caught him and Ink was ‘standing’ there, even if it was Cross doing the most of holding him up as he had one of his arms draped around his shoulders as he steadied him with his hand wrapped around the back of him.

An embarrassed warmth crept on Ink’s cheeks as he blankly stared ahead. Humiliation began to grow inside him as he weakly mumbled, “Oops. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Cross sternly replied. He adjusted his grip on Ink until he was leaning on him for support, “Let’s get you to bed. Do you think you can walk or do you… need me to-”

“No.” Ink cut him off, squeezing his eyes shut in defiance. He would rather take the two hours it would take to crawl and drag himself agonizingly against the floor all the way to bed than make his friend carry him. He knew Cross wouldn’t mind at all, but he sure would. He didn’t want to give himself something that he would cringe at for the next 10 years, even with his horrible memory, “I can walk. I-if… you help me, I guess…”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.” Cross didn’t sound judgemental at all, although that did little to dissipate the ashamed warmth on Ink’s face. Ink winced as Cross took a step forward, weakly hobbling along with him as they made the slow trek to Ink’s bedroom.

******

The yellow satin was difficult to tie into a little bow, but Ink was able to do it. He stood back and observed the little creation sat upon his bed, placing his hands on his hips as he softly smiled to himself. The little teddy bear looked like a charming little gentleman, his dark fur being contrasted against nicely with the cheery gold of his satin bowtie. The bear was seated alongside two other gifts; a binded collection of fairy tales and a gift basket of baked bread from none other than Blue himself. He was getting better at his cooking after all, so it made perfect sense for him to request for Ink to bring them.

Ink’s smile faltered as he remembered his friend handing over the darling gift basket, doing his best to avoid eye contact as his face was downcast with a pitiful frown.

“I thought they would… make him happy. I know, we don’t want to give him positive emotions, but…” Blue had never finished what he was going to say, having trailed off as his bottom lip trembled.

Ink didn’t need to know what else Blue’s statement was going to be, he already knew the sentiment. He had done his best to comfort him; tell him that his gift would most certainly be enjoyed. He just hoped Blue had believed him.

I don’t know why he wouldn’t enjoy them. I think these would be wonderful presents. Ink thought as he mentally prepared himself to make the trip he still didn’t really want to do. The trip he never really enjoyed doing.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ink took a deep breath. It was okay. He just needed to check on him for a little bit, see if he was more negotiable today. Rinse and repeat. He would be one of these days. He would have to, Ink imagined he was starving with the utter lack of positive emotions in the multiverse nowadays. Losing the guardian of positivity to corruption tended to have that effect on everyone. He would come around eventually. It wasn’t like… he had much choice. Although, there was always a chance he could remain defiant until the end of time…

Roughly shaking his head, Ink decided not to dwell on such thoughts. There was no way that would happen. He still believed in their friend. He couldn’t afford to give up on him now! Especially since… he was the only one who was safe enough to be around him.

Ink gingerly lifted up his shirt, peeking at the bandages wrapped around him. He didn’t have to have nearly so many this time, able to wear his normal clothes at long last. He hadn’t bled through, that was good. Certainly better than it was a week ago, that was for sure.

Putting his shirt down, Ink reached for the presents. However, before his fingers even grazed them, the stomps of enraged footsteps thundered down the hall, growing louder with every passing millisecond. Ink recognized them immediately and he could only let out an annoyed sigh as his face twisted into a grimace before the door slammed open. He thought he would have been gone before he had the chance to confront him.

“Ink, again?!” Error shouted as he barged into the room, “Did you seriously think you were going to leave again without fucking telling me?!”

Letting out a long sigh, Ink turned around and glared at Error, “Yes, that was kind of the point.”

Error stood there at the door, a fuming scowl on his face as his shoulders were tense and high, hand twitching as it was splayed across the door. He then whipped his hand down and stomped toward Ink, shaking a finger at him, “Well, no more. You are not going anywhere without me.”

Ink balked, taking a step back from Error as he rapidly approached him, “Wha-?! I am too-!” He broke off with a gasp as Error threw his strings out, them shooting past him and entangling the gifts. Ink whirled around and fumbled for the gifts, but had them ripped out of his grasp, “Hey! Give them back-! Error!”

Error yanked them into his arms and turned his body away from Ink, giving him a pointed look, “No. You decided to play this the hard way, so we’re going to play this the hard way-” He broke off with infuriated cursing as Ink tackled him, straining to snatch the gifts back as Error held them far from his reach due to his damned longer arm span.

Ink struggled, clawed, reached and strained as far as he could before those same blue strings wrapped around his arms and pulled him back. Struggling for a moment, he gave up rather quickly as the spurt of action sparked to life some flickers of pain. Shooting a glare at Error, he snapped, “Error! Give them back right now! I didn’t want to fight!”

Error had an incredulous look as he looked down at Ink and let out a laugh of disbelief, “Oh really now? It sure doesn’t seem like it. This is like, what? The eighth fucking time?” Tossing the gifts into the air, Error suspended them with strings as he snarled, “What you mean is that you didn’t want to fight until later. When you already left and then came back, long after the time I could have done something about it, huh?”

Ink glanced away, anger rapidly building inside him as he couldn’t argue against that, “W-well, maybe?! It’s easier than telling you the same thing over and over again!”

“Oh, ‘easier?’” Error barked out a laugh before shouting, “Easier for who?! ‘Cus it sure as hell isn’t for me, Ink!”

Ink froze, the hurt in Error’s voice hitting him like a bag of bricks.

Error’s mismatched eyes were blazing, a painful mix between anger and hurt. The strings holding Ink back dissipated, but Ink didn’t move, just coming to a standstill as the two stared into each other’s eyes.

Finally, the fury in Error evaporated and he suddenly looked very small, despite the height difference between them. His voice, likewise, was quiet, a whisper full of heavy emotions, “You come home, every time, more beat up and depressed than the last. Easier? It’s not for me. Not when you come home… crying… and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

Ink looked away, down to his hands as he held them to his chest, expression twisting with guilt. He hated that he was essentially right.

“But there is something I can do about it.” 

Ink looked up, a startled gasp leaving his throat when the gifts Error was holding hostage moved. He lunged forward, reaching for the gifts, but Error yanked them further into the air. He stumbled forward but was caught by Error as he wrapped a hand around his wrist. He glared up at him, newfound irritation blossoming in his chest at the look of determination now plastered across Error’s face.

“You’ll have to bring me along now. If you want to give dear ol’ Dream his presents, that is.” Error sneered, clearly thinking he got the upper hand on Ink… solely in the metaphorical sense and not the literal sense.

“Error, you know I can’t do that.” Ink pulled his wrist away, glaring at Error.

“And why not?!”

“You can’t just keep me hostage here by not giving the presents back!”

“Oh, I think I can! Watch!”

“Fine! Then I just won’t give him them this time!” Ink huffed and turned around, crossing his arms.

Error appeared to switch to bargaining now that his blackmail abruptly quit working, “Can’t you just tell me where he is?! Then we can go together! I want to help, Ink, but I can’t do shit if you don’t tell me anything!”

“That’s why!” Ink erupted, whirling around as he glared at him, “I can’t tell you because I know you! As soon as I do, then you won’t stop and you’ll show up all the time-”

“Yes, finally! We come to an understanding!” Error threw his arms into the air.

Ink shook his head and threw it back with a desperate yell, “Stars, Error, no! You can’t help!”

The room fell into silence. Ink breathed heavily, shaking as Error silently looked at him. All the effort and shouting took a heavier toll on Ink than he realized, his legs beginning to grow very shaky. With a frustrated sigh, he sat down on the bed, glaring at the floor in anger from having to take a rest from comparatively so little activity. He was angry with Error, but was surprisingly comforted when the taller skeleton quietly sat down beside him.

Neither spoke for a long moment, Ink focusing on calming down as Error sat still beside him. He wasn’t aware of how long passed before Error broke the silence, but with a quiet murmur.

“Am I really not helping?”

Ink jolted and looked up. Error was looking away, red eyebrows lowered in a hurt expression. His voice was laden with what sounded like heavy guilt as he continued, “I’ve been trying. With dealing with the others so you don’t have to, helping you when you come home… I thought I was helping, but…”

Guilt flashed through Ink and he intertwined his fingers with Error’s, wincing as he realized too late that he forgot to warn Error of the abrupt touch, the action sending a flurry of flickers through him. His touch was familiar enough that it didn’t warrant a crash, but it only fueled the apologetic tone in Ink’s voice, “No, no, I’m so sorry, Error. That’s- That’s not what I meant at all.”

Scooting closer to him, Ink rested his head on his shoulder as he briefly closed his eyes, “I’m sorry, you are helping. You’re helping so, so much. I just… What I meant was… You can’t help with… this.”

“But… how do you know? I could… I think. You wouldn’t have to be facing him alone if you let me come. If you tell me where he even is.”

“Error, I…” Ink weakly pulled away, sighing as his meaning once again appeared to be lost to him.

Error didn’t let him pull away far, clasping his hands in his as he urged him to turn back toward him. His voice now had sort of a pleading tone to it, “That’s what the problem is, isn’t it? He has a way of really getting into your head and making you feel awful, right? Well, if I’m there, then- You’d have backup! You’d have me there and I wouldn’t fall for his shit-”

“Error, no, no, that’s not- It’s not a matter of falling for him or not!” Ink roughly shook his head, “You can’t come because you already lost!”

Error opened his mouth, obviously about to argue, but Ink interrupted him before he could, “You already lost… because of this.” He reached forward and gently placed his hand on Error’s chest, where his soul would be. He sadly looked down at where he touched him before slowly meeting his gaze again, “You can’t come because there is no way for you to trick him. He sees through anyone with a soul. It’s not a matter of falling for his words or not. You can’t win against him. Not when you have a soul.”

Error looked back down at Ink’s hand. His eyebrows furrowed and his expression hardened. He looked as if he wanted to argue or come up with some kind of protest, but couldn’t. Instead, his mouth twisted into a straight line and he glared off to the side, expression in a conflicted sort of defeat.

Ink gave him a bittersweet smile, letting his gaze fall, “You can’t help, Error. He reads anyone with a soul like an open book and…” A small shudder overtook his body from only imagining the scenario, “he’ll use it against you. He knows whatever you’re feeling, so you can’t. No one can.”

Error’s face contorted into anger and he brought up a hand to rest against Ink’s still on his chest, “Except you.”

Ink’s smile became more strained, “Yeah… except me.”

Error’s grip tightened against Ink’s hand, “It’s not fucking fair.”

Ink didn’t even convince himself with his ‘unbothered’ shrug, “Yeah, but… since when has life been fair?”

“Well, sure, but who says we have to play by its stupid rules-!”

“They’re not stupid if they keep you safe!”

The two fell into an abrupt silence, the weight of that realization weighing heavy on both of them. Ink let his hand sink down Error’s chest until it was resting in the little space between them on the bed. He didn’t pull it away from Error’s grasp, simply letting Error’s hands follow it down as he forced a small smile, “I’d really prefer to have it this way. It’s… hard, but… If I just play it good enough, then… he can’t read me. He can’t use anything against me if I just keep up the act for long enough. That’s our best shot at getting him back.”

Error let out a long sigh, “I know, but… I just wish I could help more.”

Ink moved closer until he was pressed against him. He let his head fall on his shoulder and briefly closed his eyes, feeling a skull rest against his as he murmured, “You are… you just can’t in this way.”

Neither spoke for a long moment, just sitting there, close together in the comforting stillness of the bedroom. They let their actions speak louder than any words they could think to say. Sharing the silent comfort of warm touch let their concern for each other say much more than a bunch of words anyway. Finally, Error broke the silence with a low grumble, “I’m still not happy about it.”

Ink didn’t open his eyes, just snuggling deeper as he whispered, “I know… I’m not happy about it either.”

Again, another silence. Minutes seemed to pass, but Ink didn’t move. A part of him urged him that he had to get going, but he didn’t want to leave Error’s side either. He felt so loved and cared for here. Something he… didn’t feel nearly as much of where he was going.

Ink squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. It wasn’t Dream’s fault. He knew his dear friend. He never would have asked for this. And that was why Ink was doing this. To get him back. To bring him back to the same, wonderful, loving skeleton they all knew. Yes, it was hard in the meantime, but once they succeeded, it all would have been worth it.

Even still, Ink couldn’t help the feeling of guilt weighing heavy inside of him. As much as Error’s comfort helped him whenever he returned from these… visits, he hadn’t realized how hard they were affecting him. Burying his face into Error’s shoulder even more, he broke the silence, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For… I didn’t know that me coming home all… bad was hard for you. I’ll try to be, I don’t know, stronger, I guess.”

Error’s skull nuzzled down on top of Ink’s, “Nah, you’re already being strong enough. Just… doing all this in the first place. I just wish… I don’t know.”

He didn’t need to actually admit his true feelings, Ink already knew, “Me too.”

They sat like that for a while longer before Error pulled away, rolling his eyes with a huff, “Well, I guess I’ll let you go.”

Ink reached for the gifts that Error finally relinquished from his strings, but gave him a sly look out of the corner of his eye as he couldn’t help his chuckle, “You don’t get to let me do anything. I would have been out of here on my own eventually whether you agreed or not.”

Error raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching upward into a challenging smirk, “Oh really now?”

“Mmhmm.” Ink purred, letting the gifts rest in his lap as he gave Error a lazy smile, “I know all the right things to say and do. Just say a few little words here, bat my eyes a few times there-” Creeping up two fingers on Error’s chest, Ink came to a triumphant stop as he playfully flicked him on the chin, “Then I’d have you wrapped around my finger so I could do whatever I want without any opposition.”

Error snorted, “Is that so? ‘Wrapped around your finger?’”

“Yep.” Ink softly giggled, letting himself get lost in that mesmerizing gaze with the charming, amused twinkle dazzling within it, “It’s okay to be confused, since you don’t have that power and all.”

A low chuckle rumbled out of Error, managing to send a pleasant spark through Ink’s body. He leaned ever closer, his breath warm against Ink’s already blushing cheeks, “You sure about that?” his murmur could be felt against his mouth from the barely present gap between them, “Because if I recall, all I have to do is lower my voice a little…” Ink couldn’t even be embarrassed at how his cheeks burned when Error’s voice deepened at the end, just closing his eyes and accepting that he was absolutely right as Error’s murmur was more akin to a deep rumble, “...and you’re like putty in mine.”

Ink gladly let Error close the space between them. He brought up a hand to cup Error’s cheek, it pleasantly warm underneath his palm. He felt an arm wrap around him, bringing him even closer to deepen the kiss. Ink didn’t fight back, rather the action giving him an excuse to wrap his own arms around his shoulders. Unfortunately, he was only able to bask in the lovely feelings that gave him as it brought Error even closer to him for a few brief moments before a sharp pain ripped through his chest.

Pulling abruptly away with a gasp, Ink looked down in disdain to see Blue’s gift basket full of bread still sitting on his lap, its handle perfectly shoving against the still healing wound on Ink’s body. Oh. Perhaps putting the gifts to the side would have been a good idea to do beforehand.

“Are you okay?” Error asked with quiet concern.

Ink’s face twisted into a grimace and he let out a bitter sigh, disappointed that the moment was so quickly ruined, “Yeah, just… Sorry.”

His frown twitched upward as Error pressed a soft kiss to the side of his skull, “Don’t worry about it, we can always finish where we left off later.” He flicked a tri-colored finger against the bread basket’s handle as he added, “Preferably without these.”

Ink let out a laugh, “Oh yeah, definitely without these.” His laugh faltered and his smile fell as he gazed at the gifts that he hoped would be received well, “Speaking of, I… I really need to get going.”

They both fell into another silence, neither wanting to leave for different reasons, yet very similar reasons at the same time. Eventually, Ink spoke again, voice with a slightly hopeful tone to it, “And while I’m gone, you’ll… see if Nightmare’s done with his report yet? He was supposed to report today, right?”

Error’s eyes flashed with realization before darkening with his characteristic grumpiness. He turned his head and glared away, glowering in irritation, “Oh, joy. Wrangling in a bunch of stubborn bastards, my favorite activity, truly.”

Not able to help his amused chuckles, Ink leaned up and pecked a gentle kiss on his cheek, hoping that would help to motivate him, “Thank you! I really appreciate it.”

An annoyed, abrupt sigh was his only answer, but Ink was encouraged when Error didn’t pull away, even more so when the grumpy skeleton’s face had a sunny hue all over it. However, the humor didn’t last long, the heavy atmosphere of what they had to do once again looming over them. Even though both would have been happy to do so, they couldn’t hide in their bedroom forever.

Finally, Error stood up from the bed. Their intertwined hands were the last to separate, until eventually, they too parted and left both of them alone. Ink reluctantly let his hand fall to his lap, it already beginning to feel cold as he watched Error slowly leave the bedroom. He gave him a small smile as the other god paused at the doorway to look over his shoulder. His smile earned him a smile in return, even if it seemed… much more sad than he would have liked. Finally, Error left, closing the door behind him until it shut with a soft click.

Ink sat there on the bed and weakly held onto the gifts. The stillness of the bedroom now felt more suffocating than comforting, like it had mere moments before. It took a long time of urging himself to move before Ink finally did, dragging himself off the bed until he was standing upright.

His mind felt thick. Full of such a deep fog, every thought had to push itself through to even make its presence known. Most failed, leaving Ink to feel a familiar hollowness inside of him. An unwelcome hollowness. The very feeling he tried to keep at bay with every waking moment.

Ink closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. It was going to be okay. All he had to do was bring the gifts and see if he was more negotiable today. If he wasn’t, then he’d keep up the smile, no matter how hard, promise to see him the next day, ignore him and don’t let him get inside his head, then finally return home. Rest, then repeat the horrible cycle the next day. It didn’t have to be long. Maybe half an hour at the most.

What happens if he is negotiable? Ink paused at that thought, a muted sort of concern blossoming inside him that this possibility wasn’t even an option in his mind at first. Roughly shaking his head, Ink mentally scolded himself, You can’t afford to give up on him now! You have to remain hopeful, so actually think of that option next time. 

Gathering the gifts in his arms, Ink went around to his side of the bed and retrieved Broomie, resting against his nightstand. A brief feeling of amusement flickered inside of him at imagining the irritation the paintbrush must have felt, being forced to witness their displays of affection. However, the feeling just as quickly faded as the lighthearted mood evaporated as soon as it manifested. Maybe if he was in a lighter mood, he would have played around. It was just… he didn’t feel much like it at the moment.

Glancing over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door, Ink refrained from audibly mumbling the AU’s coordinates as he made the teleport puddle. Even if he usually mumbled or talked to himself when creating or making teleport puddles, he didn’t want to risk a certain someone overhearing in case he decided to sneakily stand right outside the door. The dark puddle sat motionless underneath him, Ink gazing down into it as a wave of nausea slowly began to build inside him. His teleport puddles weren’t as appealing as they used to be. Not after they started being used for this singular location for the past three weeks.

Sucking in a breath, Ink stepped into the teleport puddle. The comforting emptiness of the lukewarm liquid only lasted a moment before Ink popped out into the correct AU, a dark forest blanketed with the quietness of night.

Or, as close to quiet as it could get. Ink noted the dozens of chirps of midnight insects as they sang into the night, as well as a faraway hooting of a lonely owl. He smoothed the wrinkles in his clothes and glanced up at the sky between the long, silky branches of the many pine trees. The full moon gleamed brilliantly and cast a blue glow onto everything, making what wasn’t obscured by the trees easily visible. 

For a moment, Ink stood there, silently appreciating the still scene and the symphony of nighttime noises. In any other AU, this might have been nice. However, Ink chose this AU specifically because it was deserted. No living soul around for miles. Well, monster or human soul that was. The murderous Frisk in this AU didn’t seem to concern themself with nature for the time being, hence the false tranquility of a pleasant night experience.

That and… this AU was inherently devoid of positive emotions from its very conception, despite what the peaceful nighttime noises would have you believe. It was perfect for the newfound purpose Ink had for it.

To contain a corrupted guardian of positivity.

Well, no more wasting time. Time to go see him. Ink forced a smile onto his face and took the first couple of steps to where his dear friend was being kept in these dark woods. He hoped he would like these gifts: the bread from Blue, the bear chosen by Cross, and the book of fairy tales that he chose himself. It had been a while since his last actual “presents,” Ink had only been bringing by food for the past few days, so perhaps these would help lift his spirits-

Ink paused, face contorting. Not that they wanted to help him grow more powerful, no. Just… help him out a little bit. He was starving, and no amount of food Ink brought him would help. So, maybe despite all their better judgement, they decided perhaps giving him just a little spark of positivity would be enough. Help him out a little. It was just… too difficult to ignore a friend in distress.

A warped, distorted scream shook the forest, shooting out from deep within like a shockwave. Ink immediately froze in his tracks, clutching the gifts close to his chest as his heart dropped to his feet. He was frozen stiff for a few solid moments, until the abruptly silenced sounds of the night cautiously returned. It took that long for his terrified mind to catch back up, and when it finally did, Ink was sprinting as fast as he could to the source of the scream. Even though the scream was filled with such unbridled fury and shook him to his core, Ink couldn’t shake the worry. The concern. He knew who that scream belonged to, and even though things may have irreparably changed between them, Ink would never stop caring for him.

Ink broke out of the undergrowth into the secluded clearing, skidding to a halt as he was confronted with the large confinement containing the lost guardian.

The glass of the large, bolted box gleamed from the moon overhead, casting a silvery sheen on everything trapped within its transparent walls. Ink couldn’t help but stare in terrified shock at the guardian inside, his breath coming out in short, shaky spurts as his eyes darted around the torn apart remains inside.

There he stood, in that giant, glass prison, back turned to him with high, tense shoulders, all as those four, sickly golden tendrils writhed on his back. They were all sharpened into a nauseating familiar spike, sending waves of unwelcome memories shooting through Ink’s skull. Waves of the remembered agony crashed into Ink and he desperately clutched at the wound as he tried in vain to calm his panicked breathing.

He didn’t appear to notice him, back turned as he heaved, taking large, deep, infuriated breaths that Ink could hear despite the sizable distance between them. His hands were balled fists, clutched at his sides as he glared at the wreckage around him in his closed off confinement. 

The beanbag that Ink and Error spent so much time selecting especially for him. The soft pillows and stuffed toys that Cross chose, remembering how much the guardian used to love such things. The baskets of treats that Blue painstakingly took the time to tie a bow the color of his namesake on. Even the novels that Nightmare picked from his personal library himself, trying to poorly mask his care with a huffed groan of only doing it so he didn’t die of boredom.

They were all torn apart. Ripped to shreds. Ink clutched the still intact gifts in his arms, bringing a hand to cover his mouth in horror at the destruction. In all honesty, he wouldn’t have even known what he was looking at if he didn’t know how the precious gifts looked before they were destroyed. Dark gold fabric, white pellets, stuffing and soft material, ripped ribbons, strands of woven wood, and thousands of papers as they still floated down from a rampage that seemed to have only just ended was all that remained.

Ink couldn’t help the sharp, choked gasp, trying in a fool’s attempt to reclaim all the lost air. 

The guardian immediately stiffened, his heavy breathing momentarily freezing. His golden head ornament caught the light of the moon as he slowly looked over his right shoulder. The glow of his golden eyelight as it sat in the dark abyss of the rest of his face sent a stark shiver down Ink’s spine. It was so hauntingly familiar, yet so strangely foreign from the warm glow of the gold eyes that Ink remembered.

All at once, his tense and standoffish demeanor immediately evaporated. His tendrils softened out into silky curls, twirling almost elegantly on his back as if they weren’t made out of sickening sludge. He whirled around on his heel and extended his arms outward, as if reaching for a hug as a warm, brilliant smile lightened up his entire face, “Oh, Ink! You startled me, but how lovely it is to see you again! How have you been doing?”

Ink remained in his frozen state, the horror of what he just witnessed having yet to subside. His voice still wasn’t right. It sounded just like him but… not. It was distorted. Warped. All the friendly inflections it used to have, but twisted in a way that Ink did not recognize.

Quickly swallowing, Ink forced a smile and spoke with the unwavering calmness he had trained his voice to adopt, “Oh, Dream. I was… going to give you these but…” He had to force himself to approach the sealed glass box. He came to a stop in front of it, gazing down sadly at the gifts in his arms as he desperately tried to ignore the shredded remains of the previous gifts of love just mere centimeters in front of his feet, “I don’t think that will be a great idea now.”

Ink was aware of the relentless golden eyelight as it followed his every move. He set the gifts on the ground outside the box, giving them a sad look before turning to look over his shoulder with what he hoped was a pleasant smile, “We want to give you nice things, Dreamy! But… we can’t if this is what you do to them.”

‘Dream’ just stared at the gifts, expression scarily blank as his hands slightly twitched at his sides. It only lasted a second before he snapped back to that terrifying cheeriness, tilting his head with a laugh that was uncannily similar to the melodious sound that Ink remembered it being, “Of course you can give me nice things! I just…” He trailed off, taking a look at the destruction around him. With a small shrug, he rested his head in a lazy hand as he gave Ink a sly, amused smile, like a mother would give to her silly child, “I’ve just been a little stressed out lately, I’m sure you know how it is.”

Ink felt his eye twitch before he quickly glanced away, cringing at how his chuckle was more nervous than carefree like how he intended it to be, “Uh, yeah, I guess-”

He flinched and stumbled back since, as soon as he glanced back, there Dream was, standing right in front of him as he beamed at him with the same radiant smile, even if it was surrounded by corruption instead of ivory bone.

“You had taken me by surprise, you silly goose!” Dream laughed, not noticing that he had scared Ink just now, “I hadn’t had time to clean up before you had arrived. I didn’t know you were coming so soon! If I did, I may have tidied up a bit before-”

Ink finished collecting his breath, slowly letting down the protective hands as they covered his chest. He finally noticed Dream had abruptly paused his statement and he looked up to meet his gaze.

His expression seemed to be surprised, as if he just realized Ink’s frightened stance. After a moment, his smile returned, “Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you! I suppose after everything that’s… happened… you would be a little more jumpy than normal, hmm?”

Ink brushed himself off in a poor attempt to regain his composure, face twisting with flustered emotions as he repeated the mantra that he was okay in his head. There was a wall between them. There was nothing he could do to get through. Which was, in hindsight, probably the reason why he had been so “stressed.”

“I’m not ‘jumpy,’ I’m just…” Ink struggled coming up with an excuse, “You startled me just now, like I did with you.”

“Well, I suppose that makes sense.” Dream murmured. Neither of them broke the brief silence that overcame them for about a minute. Although, eventually, Dream did, his unsettlingly off, cheerful voice beaming, “Why don’t you give me these new presents? They look very interesting! That bread, I think I can recognize it… Blue’s handiwork, is it not? He’s doing such a good job, I can taste the improvement.”

Ink glanced over at the pristine gifts before back at Dream, standing there with hands clasped behind his back in some faux innocent pose as he pretended to not be aware of the destroyed remains completely surrounding him. Forcing what he knew was a convincing smile, Ink answered, “Like I said before, I don’t think that’ll be a good idea.”

Dream’s smile momentarily faltered, “Is it because of this?” He scooped up what Ink could only assume used to be a teddy bear’s body with a tentacle and dropped it into his hand. He attempted sticking the half of the teddy bear head that still remained onto the fuzzy brown scrap of material before finally shrugging with the two sad, torn pieces, “I promise I won’t do this every time! Besides, this was a first, was it not? Sometimes… the stress just gets the better of me.”

Ink just stared at the torn teddy bear, the stuffing spilling out of its ripped head reminding him more of veins and gore instead of the fluffy white it really was. He kept the pleasant smile, ignoring the sick feeling growing inside of him as he maintained the act, “All the more reason to wait and see, no? If it truly was a fluke and you don’t, uh, do anything worse, then I can give you the presents without the worry that they won’t last long. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Ink stiffened as Dream’s happy demeanor fell. His singular eyelight was cold as it glared at him from a lidded socket, mouth pressed in a thin line. His peacefully curling tendrils had locked still behind him, as if someone had taken a picture and he was frozen in time. Ink could feel a few beads of sweat on his forehead as nerves threatened to break his composure, Dream’s silent, furious stare making him want to shrink into a ball.

Finally, Dream’s golden eyelight snapped away, flickering downward from Ink’s face. His face dissolved into a different emotion and Ink was then taken off-guard by a very different feeling as he looked back up. Concern. A gentle worry, written clear as day over his face.

He reached out and gently touched the glass, angling his gloved hand covered in dark sludge as if he were cupping Ink’s cheek, “Oh, Ink…” the concern in his warped voice rapidly stole any sense of calmness Ink once had, “I’m so sorry. It still hurts, doesn’t it?”

Ink balked, taking a step back in aghast horror, “W-wha-?! What are you talking about-” He broke off suddenly when he thought to look down where Dream had looked before. A large, crimson spot was on his shirt, painfully noticeable against its white material. Ink couldn’t speak as he shakily touched the spot with a finger, confirming it was fresh as he brought it away to have it smeared with scarlet.

“You poor, poor thing.” Dream murmured. 

Ink couldn’t meet his gaze, just staring down at the dark spot as he desperately fought the resurgence of tainted memories from attacking him once again.

“I didn’t know you were still healing,” Dream continued, “I mean, I suppose it makes sense, with a wound of that size-”

Ink abruptly turned around, covering his mouth with his hands as a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. Flashes of memory shot through his brain in one assault after the next before he couldn’t take it anymore. He lurched forward and vomited, collapsing to his knees as he violently heaved. His chest, stomach, entire ribcage, hell, probably the entire front half of his body screamed in pain from Ink’s harsh, contorted movements as he roughly vomited everything in his system. Finally, he sat back, trembling with throbbing waves of pain shooting through him. He gazed down at the dark puddle underneath him, an unpleasant smell of stomach contents and heavy iron wafting from it.

Bringing up a shaky hand, Ink wiped away the trickle from his mouth. His mind began to spin as a discolored smear of black and bright scarlet stained his art glove from the moon overhead.

“You’re still bleeding this much? After all this time too…” Dream’s voice came from behind, a sickeningly gentle tone to his voice.

Ink fought. He fought and he fought. He didn’t want to remember the memories. Not right now.

“Oh, I feel awful. I’m so sorry, Ink.” Dream’s voice continued, so full of such convincing concern, it made Ink’s head spin, “Please, believe me when I say I didn’t mean it. My emotions, they… just came over me. I didn’t know what I was doing. If I had known it was you, I promise I wouldn’t have lashed out like I did-”

The memories attacked Ink over and over again, making it so he couldn’t turn around and face Dream. It turns out, he had been wrong that horrible day. There was so much blood. Covering his hands, staining the grass under them, coating his clothes and his lap.

It just wasn’t Dream’s blood.

Ink trembled as he stared out into the dark forest, eyes wide and unblinking. The small trickle he just wiped from his mouth reminded him much of how it felt back then, only that ‘trickle’ was much larger as it had continuously dripped from his chin.

The pain currently radiating in his chest was only a fraction of the agony he had felt. Ink remembered it. He couldn’t even scream, just staring down at the black spike through what used to be his chest. He could only twitch and let out mangled coughs. The blood as it splurted from his mouth with every cough still stuck out in his mind as it had felt like searing lava wherever it had the fortune of landing on his bones.

Then, the blinding pain as Dream ripped himself right back out.

Landing on the ground as he just stared up at the smoky sky in shock.

His vision slowly fading as just the act of breathing was too much to bear.

Screams.

So much blood.

His blood.

Error yelling at him. Telling him to keep his eyes open. His words contrasting with his teary eyes.

Core’s back. Core to the rescue. Oh, they brought friends. Smartest scientists in the timeline, you say?

Screams. They got him. They got him.

Ink using the last of his strength, slashing Broomie. Sending that giant glass box to the first suitable AU he could think of.

Then, black. Sweet, comforting, endless black. With no agony. No tears. And no destroyed hearts, broken by friendships torn apart.

“Ink? Ink~?”  

The sing-songy voice shook Ink out of the assault of memories. He shakily glanced over his shoulder, too terrified to fully turn around yet.

Dream had his hands on the glass with such a warm smile on his face. His voice was laced with such genuine concern, but Ink couldn’t let himself believe it. It wasn’t true, “You know I didn’t mean it, right? I would never hurt you on purpose. Ink… you’re my dearest friend, you believe me, right?”

Ink turned back around, staring into the woods as unwelcome tears tumbled down his cheeks. He vainly tried to stifle his crying, sniffling as he attempted to wipe away the tears. He shook and broke down even more when Dream’s sweet, warped cooing came from behind, “Oh, Ink… Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, I know. I know you didn’t mean to-” Ink managed to choke out, trying in vain to quiet the sob in his voice. He wrapped his arms around himself as the pain only grew, undoubtedly from all his rough and violent movement. Despite willing for it not to, his voice fully broke, “But you did. It still hurts. It hurts s-so much.”

“And I’m so, so sorry for that. I feel terrible. You have to believe me when I tell you that I didn’t know. I never would have hurt you had I known.”

Ink didn’t respond, just kept faced away from Dream while he wiped away the tears. He was trying his best to be quiet, but his sniffles were still painfully audible. It took a long moment before Dream finally spoke again, but when he did, it managed to make Ink freeze, the quiet murmur forming a pit inside of him.

“There’s a way for me to help, you know.”

Looking over his shoulder, Dream’s singular eye was locked onto Ink. He had a warm, twisted smile with knowing, half-lidded eyes that only managed to make Ink tremble more rather than give him the comfort Dream probably thought it would give him, “My healing magic was never as advanced as say, someone like Blue. But it’s better than nothing, hmm? So, Ink… Dear, sweet Ink… Why don’t you let me out of here so I can help you?”

His eye seemed to glow with an unnerving light, the golden color shooting the coldest spark of fear through Ink rather than the warm feelings such a hue usually gave. His tendrils curled and twisted on his back, making him seem far bigger than he truly was. Ink, in consequence, suddenly felt extremely small, huddled down on the ground with protective arms wrapped around his abdomen. He narrowed his eyes in confusion and concentration as he felt the faintest pulse of radiating magic. If he wasn’t paying attention, he may not have even noticed it at all. However, finally, he came to recognize what the magic was; having trained himself over the years to recognize it due to his sore lack of being able to feel it normally.

Dream was attempting to use his positive aura.

Wiping away another tear as it tumbled down his cheek, Ink cracked a small smile. He would have almost felt bad for Dream if he didn’t know. Alas, just the act that he was trying was ridiculous enough, it made him start to laugh, “Are you really trying to influence me?”

A blank look crossed Dream’s face and his curling tendrils jolted. If Ink didn’t know better, he’d say he was embarrassed. However, if he did blush, that awful sludge masked it and Dream simply shrugged, “I apologize, force of habit.” He trailed a hand on the glass as he gazed lovingly at Ink, chasing away the momentary bright feelings Ink felt, “But I can help you feel better. Maybe help stop all that bleeding, wouldn’t that be nice? You are getting it everywhere.”

Snapping his eyes down at his arms wrapped around himself, Ink finally noted that they were positioned right over that gradually growing, crimson spot. He caught a glimpse of smears tainting his shirt sleeves now, but he forcibly looked back up at Dream to avoid focusing on it.

Dream’s off-putting, caring smile only grew in intensity once their eyes met again, “You trust me, don’t you? So… why don’t you let me out of here?”

Ink sucked in a breath, momentarily closing his eyes. He then plastered a smile on his face, perfectly mimicking all the genuineness he knew it needed to have, despite his still teary eyes probably damaging the act that he wanted to portray, “You know that I can’t do that, Dreamboat.”

Dream’s shoulders fell and his face dissolved into a bubbling anger. Ink flinched when the sound of Dream’s forehead as he slammed it into the glass reverberated through the forest. His tentacles writhed and he slowly shook his head against the glass, his low grumbles reaching Ink even from where he sat, although he couldn’t make out any of the words. It continued on long enough, Ink began to grow concerned. His gaze darted around and his laugh was filled with more nerves than he would have liked, “Uh, Dream? Are you okay-”

“Ink.”

Ink clicked his jaw shut, snapping his eyes back onto Dream as a cold feeling of fear washed over him.

Dream’s forehead was pressed against the glass, eyes tightly closed. His tentacles were abnormally still and his hands as they rested on the glass appeared to be twitching. Finally, his eye snapped open, flickering up to lock onto Ink, “I let the first few times slide, but I’m afraid this is getting really, really old.”

Ink didn’t respond, just sat there and stared back at Dream. Any idea of what he should say felt wrong, and the longer time went on without responding, the worse any sort of response felt. So, he just sat there and waited for him to continue, trying not to squirm under the harsh glare the guardian was giving him.

“I know, you’re forgetful. And I try to be understanding of that. Stars, you know I do.” Dream grumbled, once again resuming his disappointed head shaking. His expression was a dark annoyance once he continued, glaring at Ink as he snarled, “But I implore you to remember… Find some way to keep it inside of your brain. My name. Is not. Dream. It is Shattered. Please remember that this time.”

A sharp pain ripped through Ink, but it was hard to tell if it was through his injury or through his heart, if not both. He glanced away, relieved Dream couldn’t feel what emotions he was feeling at the moment. They were heavy and sad, once again slamming into him with the fact that things had changed. Closing his eyes, he gave his friend the most innocent smile he could, even though it was completely forced, “I’m sorry! I forgot. I… hehe… Like you say, force of habit.”

Struggling to his feet, Ink kept his face downcast to hide his winces of pain. Once he was sure he could hide it well enough, he looked back up. His smile actually turned genuine as he earnestly meant every word he said, his voice having the slightest hint of sadness to it, “I’ll try to remember for next time, but I can’t promise anything. I don’t know, you’ll always be ‘Dream’ to me. No matter what happens.”

Dream just glared at him with annoyance before letting out a great sigh and letting his head fall on the glass again. He appeared to have given up.

Ink gave a small laugh but it roughly devolved into coughing. He leaned over as he coughed and coughed, before finally, it was over. He shakily straightened back up and wiped a hand on his mouth, all as Dream’s eye never left him.

Dream’s face was a quiet contemplation as he appeared to be deep in thought. Eventually, he murmured, “Let me out of here, Ink. I can help you.”

A dull ache went through Ink’s heart. He glanced away as he mumbled, “Healing magic can’t heal everything.”

“I know that, but… there are so many different ways I can help. We haven’t even scratched the surface yet.” Dream’s sly smile grew when Ink made reluctant eye contact, “It’s not just healing magic that I can provide you. I’m the guardian of positivity, remember? I may not be able to influence you… but I can influence others.”

A pit of apprehension began to grow in Ink. His body stiffened and he couldn’t mask the cautious tone in his voice, “W-what… are you getting at?”

“I can make others feel positive emotions. Any positive emotion they want, I can make them feel. I can… give a sense of tranquility. Peace. Acceptance.” Dream tilted his head, silky chuckles rumbling out of his throat as he purred, “Wouldn’t that be so nice? You and Error… You can be free. Think about it; you wouldn’t have to work so hard to convince people anymore. You wouldn’t have to deal with people hating and doubting the decisions that make you happy. I know… He makes you so very happy, doesn’t he? Well… what’s the harm of finally getting the entire multiverse to see… and accept that?”

A storm of emotions crashed into Ink. It was so overwhelming, it made him want to be sick again. However, he swallowed hard and forced the feelings of nausea down. He didn’t want to contribute to splitting his insides apart again, “No. Dream, I- You know we can’t do that. You never wanted to force people to feel things that they didn’t actually feel. That goes against everything that you said before; about free will, about feeling the truest emotions you can possibly feel… This isn’t you, to go against everything-”

“I was so stingy before.” Dream scoffed, making a dismissive motion with a tendril. Ink stumbled back when Dream pressed himself even closer to the glass, beaming at Ink with a smile that spread across the majority of his face, “But now, I understand. People don’t know what the hell they want most of the time anyway. I see now, it’s helping you that matters. That’s what friends are for, are they not?”

Ink clutched his sides, his composure falling. He thanked the heavens that Error was not here. He knew what Dream was suggesting was out of the question, but… it was tempting. And that’s what scared him. He didn’t even want to imagine how it would affect Error, someone with a soul that Dream could pick apart and say exactly whatever he needed to say in order to get him to do whatever he wanted.

Closing his eyes, Ink remained defiant, “It will be unsustainable. You’ll have to be by them all the time… Influence them over and over again…”

Dream purred, “They’ll come around eventually.”

“You don’t know that.”

“One can hope. What’s a little hardship for dear friends?”

Ink turned away, shaking his head to signal his final refusal, “No. We can’t do that.”

Dream relented, giving a lighthearted sigh, “Very well. Just remember… That is still an option in the future,” Ink glanced over to see his knowing smile, “if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Never say never.”

Glaring away, Ink let out a harsh sigh. He had enough of these games. It was apparent that today wasn’t going to be the day. Taking a moment to gather his composure, Ink then turned toward Dream and gave him a warm smile, “Well, it was nice seeing you, Drea- Uh, sorry. I mean, it was nice seeing you, but I’ve got to get going now. Things to do, you know?”

He walked toward the presents he sat beside the glass box and gathered them in his arms, wincing as he did so. He bit his bottom lip as he hoped the smears on his arms had dried enough that he wouldn’t bloody the gifts, making sure to hold them away from the damp spot on his chest. He ignored Dream as he followed him from inside his confinement, his movements becoming more erratic as he finally resorted to banging on the glass and calling out to get his attention. Ink paid him no mind, just turning around as he prepared to go back home. He was used to this game too. It was easier not to indulge in his convincing displays of desperation. Every time he did, he… would find some new way to snake his way inside his head.

“Bye! I’ll be sure to come see you tomorrow! Blue said he was making tacos again. I know, your favorite-” Ink talked over his shoulder before freezing as a roar shot through the moonlit forest.

“Ink!”

Slowly, Ink turned. He was mutely aware of his blank facial expression, despite the sickening terror currently clutching his heart.

Dream was glaring at him, his tentacles spikes as they attempted to pierce the glass, but thankfully failed. His singular eye was like a raging fire, flickering within his empty void of an eye socket as his fingers clawed into the glass. His face was a distorted imitation as his voice was a low, warped, demonic growl full of malice, “You can’t keep me here.”

Ink just gazed at him with a sad smile, “I know.”

“I will get out of here. One of these days.”

“I know.”

Dream’s fury seemed to dissolve into confusion and he straightened, leaning back from the glass with a curious head tilt, “Why… are you smiling? Aren’t you afraid?”

Ink was. He was afraid. He was still kept up every night by the horrors of that day. Remembering getting ripped into. Getting torn apart. Day after day after day. He was terrified of the possibility of, not even that happening again, but of Dream selecting a new target. His friends. His family. His love. The truth was, Ink had forgotten what it had felt like to live a life absent of fear and terror, of worry tainting every waking moment. 

But that was why. He had the power that none of the people he loved had. He could fool the untrickable. He could simply play the act no one else could, his true motives and feelings hidden behind a mask that Dream could never hope to read like the vulnerable souls of every other living being.

So, Ink just played his part and flashed Dream a smile worthy of a stunning performance as he lied through his teeth, “No, I’m not. You’re my friend. I believe you… That you’d never hurt me.”

Dream just stared at Ink with an expression of utter disbelief. Finally, it switched, his twitching, gaped open mouth slowly upturning into a smile until he was leaning back, his twinkling, warped laugh ringing out into the quiet night, “Oh, Inky…” He trailed off as he wheezed, wiping away a stray tear with a tentacle, “How you make me laugh. You can see straight through me, can you?”

Ink chuckled and ignored how hollow his heart felt, how his mind was swamped with hurt and confusion. He wished with all his heart that he could tell for sure that he was right; that Dream would never hurt him. But the truth was, he honestly didn’t know, “I learned from the best.”

Dream broke into another fit of laughter, carrying on behind Ink as he turned to begin his trek back to the teleport puddle. He paused when Dream’s voice called out for him, looking over his shoulder to meet his chilling gaze for the final time.

“I stand by what I said. You can’t keep me here forever, Ink.” Dream’s voice was smooth and unbothered. Smile knowing as he gazed at Ink through infuriating, half-lidded eyes, his entire demeanor screaming of a condescending parent talking to their clueless child, “I’m a guardian. I can live indefinitely. Go ahead and leave, I don’t mind. You’ll be back.” His dark chuckle rumbled through the quiet midnight air, his eye glowing despite the bright moon above, “I can wait. I have all the time in the world.”

Despite knowing that was meant to intimidate him, remind him of the cruel possibility that he might never change, Ink wasn’t frightened. His words only brought a great feeling of pity, of grief for the realization that Dream had yet to notice. For a brief moment, Ink let the mask fall. He quit pretending to be unbothered, to be oblivious and cheerful to whatever Dream threw at him. Ink let his true emotions show, his heart heavy as he gazed at Dream. He gave him a sad smile and murmured only three words, “I do too.”

Dream’s face fell, at first with shock, but then with the gradually growing horror of realization. Ink didn’t stay to witness his entire reaction, turning and continuing on his trek back to the teleport puddle. He still sadly smiled to himself, such a pervasive feeling of melancholy hanging over him as Dream’s enraged screams and malice-filled curses became muffled noise in the background.

It was okay. Ink would be back tomorrow. Then the day after that. Then the day after that. He could keep playing this game, keep up the act no matter how hard. It didn’t matter how long it took. Ink had the rest of eternity to get his friend back.