Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You are Death. You reap souls across the multiverse that haven’t moved on on their own, for one reason or another. Sometimes, you’ll manage to end corruption on the side to protect universes, but most corruption is based on something you can’t affect.

Before you traveled the multiverse, you were one of the Deaths of Pantheontale. You took care of souls that refused to move on, while your brother helped those that didn’t realize they were supposed to move on. These days you spend most of your time away, only coming to rest at your cottage and visit your brother and your only friend, Life. At the start of your friendship you needed to convince her of the necessity of your domain, but since then she’s been one of the most staunch defenders of your and your brother’s honour.

Your brother is liked well enough, even though most other gods still fear you. While gods cannot die, it used to be a source of uncertainty whether the gods of death could kill them nonetheless. Your touch does not kill immortals, but your scythe might. Not that you’ve tried, even if you’ve been in a few fights with the braver gods. You gave the king of gods a dressing down over the avoidance and implored everyone to simply hold all their contempt for you, rather than your brother. When the multiverse opened to your pantheon, you were the only god to venture out. Your brother is capable of taking care of your universe, and you don’t have any loyalty to it. You sensed a need for reaping in the multiverse, as without you the remains of those long dead that aren’t supposed to linger cause instability.

While one might think that a multiverse has more work than one universe, it’s not that much. It’s certainly more than before, especially since you no longer split the work, but most universes are stuck underground, and thus do not have that many people. The additional work isn’t too tough with your ability to split your awareness and be in many places at once.

You were once something less than this, but two decades or so are not much in the face of the years you’ve existed now. You could not have imagined seeing and hearing many things at once like this before, but now it is simply how you are. You retain some of your identity from before, buried deep in your soul, but it’s not something you’d show others. Beyond it sits the yawning emptiness that waits for the day you’ll need to ascend once more. The part of you that marks you as something more than your fellow gods. As you are, you are an equal to your brother and your counterpart. But when you once asked them if they feel as if they could be something more if they needed to be, they did not understand.

You are Death. But you are also The End. You bring an end to the lives of those that wish to continue, and you bring an end to corruption that is simply something more that shouldn’t be. One day, if the multiverse itself corrupts, if the balance tilts too far and cannot be recovered, that emptiness within you must be released, and you will bring an end to the corruption before it can spread to other multiverses. You are afraid of what you will be like, then. If you’ll continue existing, or if you will simply be an event that passes once it has done its work.

You like Destruction. Error, that’s his name. When he destroys, he leaves nothing behind, relieving you of more work. You wish that Ink didn’t stop him prematurely so often, since that does leave you with extra work. You understand that seeing your things destroyed can’t be fun, but it’s not like there aren’t hundreds of universes. You think Error has noticed you watching him sometimes, but hasn’t drawn attention to it. You’ll simply watch from afar, your work isn’t needed when he’s around and you don’t know how you’d talk to him. You memorize the way light does not seem to interact with him, the way he weaves his strings along his colorful fingers. You think this is attraction.

You like Negativity much less than Error. Nightmare leaves corpses in his wake, and the traumatic deaths leave lingering spirits more often than not. You see that the corruption that covers him doesn’t leave much room for compassion and wish that he’ll come to his senses eventually. In the grand scheme of things, reaping multiple times in the same place isn’t that much of a problem, you can just follow him on his rampages and take care of it. The problem comes from the fact that he can notice you too, but isn’t as inclined to let you go as Error.

“Who do you think you are, following me? Do you think staying invisible will spare you from my wrath?”

You consider just leaving and cleaning up once he’s gone, but this really is the most efficient way to go about it. So, with a put upon sigh, you fade into visibility some ways from him. He turns to you the moment he can sense you properly.

“Hello. I am Death. I’m just cleaning up after you, don’t mind me, please.” Your voice is bland and monotone. It only tends to gain life around your brother and, well, Life.

He looks as angry as always, but seems to at least process who you said you are. His tentacles give a few frustrated lashes, before turning once more and portaling away. When you don’t feel any additions to the deaths in his wake within the next few minutes, you figure that he’s done for the day. At least he has enough presence of mind to realize that trying to fight you would likely not end well for him.

Time passes by you like sand through open fingers. The multiverse is interesting enough, but your role makes it difficult to try to build relationships. You just do your job and try to keep an eye on things that Paps and Tori might find interesting when you go visit.

One day, you sense a soul stuck in the moment before death. Thinking that it’s simply a glitch, you go to take care of it. The location it takes you is a save screen, where you see a figure in white and red. Your previous self’s memories give vague information of many beings in the multiverse, and the moment you see him, you recognize him as Geno. You think that you could kill him by simply taking him through a portal somewhere else. But as you’re here, you see that he’s not causing any instability to his universe.

So, when he finally notices you, you simply give one of your rare smiles and introduce yourself.

“Hello. I am Reaper, I came here to take your life, but I can see that that likely won’t be possible. Would you like some company?”

You keep him company, bring him gifts, learn how to talk to someone you haven’t known since you came into existence. He’s funny, even with the undercurrent of sadness and desperation. He doesn’t talk about the plans you’re sure he has. You could probably reap the Chara of this universe and help bring the story to an end, but you’re not sure if you can interfere like that. Not to mention that you’re not sure if Geno would want Frisk back in control yet.

You fall in love. You don’t know if it can last, if he’ll become a normal mortal once this is all over. But you figure that not saying anything would be a source of more regrets, so you’re honest about your feelings. He takes a while to think it over, but wants to love you, too.

When you’re happy, your eyelights will make a rare appearance. Unlike most, you have no control over them. More often than not, your sockets are as empty as the void. They’ll sometimes appear with Paps and Tori, but even with them you’re mostly just comfortable, you don’t feel that sense of belonging that seems to bring out your silvery pupils. Geno calls you Silverbell, because your eyelights look like sleigh bells. The comparison feels so right in that old piece of yourself, you end up crying in happiness over the nickname. You almost want to make that your actual name, but also want it to be something for Geno to call you. It doesn’t really matter, since he’s one of the only people you speak to.

Aftertale comes to a happy end. You gave Geno a pardon from death for long enough that the healing item could safely save him. He asks to talk with you privately.

He breaks your heart. He says that now that you can no longer touch him, you should stop using him. He says that he doesn’t want you to accidentally hurt the people he cares about. Was he really just using you? Tricking death? You should kill him just for the audacity, but you can’t. You tell him off, argue that he was the one using you, manipulating you.

You leave, and spend the next week with Tori. You can’t let your brother see you like this, but she’ll know how to comfort you. She wants to go give Geno some choice words, but settles for the two of you writing a letter each to him. He’ll die one day anyway. It’s not worth the effort.

The next hundred years pass in a haze. Nightmare seems to have recovered mostly, and is leading a merry band of former (for the most part) murderers to cause chaos for him. Error’s the same as always. After Geno, you want even less to do with others. But you can’t just be like this forever, and gods wouldn’t have as much reason to use you. You won’t let them, anyway. You’ll just talk and spend time with them, you won’t fight for them or do favors for them.

You take a seat at a cliff in Outertale. It’s the one that Error frequents. He’s done with work for the day, so it’s likely that he’ll turn up. In fact-

“W-who are y-you and why are you here?” The voice behind you is filled with static and annoyance. You look at him to introduce yourself.

“I’m Reaper. You’ve definitely noticed me around sometimes when you’re destroying universes, I’m just finally introducing myself properly.” You give a weak smile and turn back to the stars.

“So y-you’re Death? Aren’t you mad at me for g-giving you more work-k?” He’s circling around to slowly get closer.

You give a hum. “You’re not, actually. Since you’re removing everything, that means there’s nothing to reap. Ink’s the one I’d be more mad at, if anyone.”

“ So, why are you t-trying to talk t-to me? You’ve been watching me less for th-the last c-century.” He comes to a stop a few paces to your left.

“Maybe I’m just lonely,” you shrug, “I’ve been thinking about getting to know you ever since I first saw you, just didn’t know how. But recently I decided that I’ve been putting it off for too long.”

“And what if I don’t w-want to talk to you?”

“Well, we don’t have to talk. I’m pretty good at just sitting in silence.” You’re doing at least three different things at all times, so it’s nice to just take it easy. Well, not ‘doing different things’, so much as ‘reaping different souls’, which doesn’t really take much bandwidth. Still, with the fact that you’re always doing your job and have lived for centuries, sitting still and quiet for a few hours is the opposite of a problem.

Error takes a while, with only the low buzzing of his presence filling the silence. He sits down where he’s standing, and you end up watching the stars with him until he leaves.

“Y-you’re weird, but I’m n-not gonna try to stop you from coming back. It’d be a waste of t-time and energy,” is his choice of goodbye. You simply give him a wave and a small smile as you watch his retreating form.

You end up following him more again. That old attraction is still there, but you’re not even going to consider anything romantic. Preferably ever. Friendship’s just as good, and it’s not like anything could happen with Error, considering his avoidance of touch. You’re quite the opposite on your opinion on touch, but it killing nearly everything makes you about as avoidant as him. More often than not, his visits to Outertale include you, though you make sure to leave the moment he expresses a want to be alone.

You keep a closer eye on Nightmare’s little gang too. Their exploits are probably one of the more interesting things in the multiverse, though you keep a distance whenever Nightmare actually accompanies them. He might not cause problems for you anymore, but you doubt he has any interest in building a relationship beyond distant respect.

Ink and Dream have started getting more organized with their opposition for their counterparts. Well, mostly just Dream and the folks in the Omega timeline that have taken an increased interest in keeping the multiverse ‘safe’. When they try to contact you, you simply fade away and start avoiding them outside of work. They haven’t shown any respect for the darker sides of their balances, so you doubt they’d hold any true respect for you.

“W-why do you keep coming here? Isn’t it obvio-ous that you’re not going to l-learn anything?”

“What do you mean? I’m just enjoying your company,” you turn to tilt your head at Error. He’s glaring at you.

“You’re just t-trying to spy on m-me, aren’t y-y-you?”

“For who? Ink? Those guys in the OT? I don’t exactly know anyone that’d want to spy on you.”

“I-I don’t know! There’s no way you w-want to be friends with m-me!” He throws his hands up in frustration. Ah.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re one of the few immortals of the multiverse, and you and Nightmare are the only ones of those that might hold any respect for my job. And between you and Nightmare, I think he’d be less pleasant. He gave me a bunch more work in those earlier centuries, and now he’s got mortals with him, so he probably wouldn’t appreciate Death hanging around, you know?”

Error stares at you with a pinched expression. “So it’s f-for convenience? I-I’m your o-only option?”

“Well, I do like you, so that helps. Even if we haven’t spoken properly yet, you seem pretty similar to someone else I got along with,” you wince at the realization. “Except less likely to manipulate and use me, probably,” you tack on. Error does feel similar to Geno, but from what you’ve seen he’s fairly straightforward. And he doesn’t really have any use for you. You come up with a pretty fun line, and look to Error to repeat it.

“I’m probably chasing ghosts outside of work here, haha. Honestly, I’ll try my best to see the differences. It wouldn’t be fair to you to compare you to someone else, especially with my complicated feelings regarding that someone.” Over the years, you’ve come to the conclusion that Geno probably didn’t mean what he said. Or at least as much as he made it seem. You can’t quite imagine why he felt the need to chase you away, but you can’t really look for him, with how he’s disappeared. It’d be pretty ironic if your Geno somehow became Error, but it doesn’t matter either way given how Error himself isn’t going to remember any of it. He’s Geno even less than you’re that someone you used to be.

Error seems to still doubt you, but seems to be more interested in fishing information now.

“What do you think about t-the Omega timeline anyways? Isn’t-t it annoying how some g-glitches hide away when they’re supposed to be d-dead? ” he growls. You suppose it’s grating to leave work unfinished like that for him, but you’re not one to mince words.

“I’m mostly fine with it, as long as it’s not causing any instability. While it’s my job to take care of those that try to stick around beyond their end, I also have a certain respect for those that keep living even when they’ve lost so much. Perhaps they should have perished with their universes, but as long as they don’t cause corruption, it’s not my place to reap those that are still alive. The only problem I really have is with that council of theirs, with their plans to interfere in your and Nightmare’s work. It’s rather arrogant of them to think they know better than gods.”

Error doesn’t seem quite satisfied, but nods. He turns away from you, brings out some needles and starts to knit. You spend the rest of the time in silence.

Error starts to complain about anything he can think of on your meetings. You find yourself rather swept away by his expressiveness. Even though it’s mostly anger, the vibrant emotions are captivating for you, who’s mostly just deadpan (hah). More often than not, you’ll stare at him with a small smile until he notices you and blushes before turning away. His blush is much like the stars you’ve grown fond of over the months.

This time, though, he’s got something to complain about regarding you.

“D-don’t you ever have a-anything to say? You just s-sit there with that dumb face.”

You wonder at him for a moment. “You want to hear me talk?”

“W-well! N-no, you’ll probably b-be as interesting as a c-corpse! But it’s annoying t-that you’re just s-sitting there like that!” he denies, though it’s probably just to save face. You smile at him indulgently, but that just annoys him more. He crosses his arms and turns away from you. Recently he’s been sitting in arm’s reach, not that you’d do or say anything about it.

“Well, if you did want to hear me talk, would you prefer me to share in your habit of complaining, or talk about something that might be interesting?”

“Y-you’ve got complaints?” he turns his head to glance at you, intrigued.

“Well, other than the usual about particularly stubborn souls or presumptuous mortals, you wouldn’t believe the amount of complaining I can do about the gods from my universe. Not counting Paps and Tori, naturally.” Really, even though you haven’t seen the others outside of meeting them in passing in centuries, you’re very good at remembering slights from ages ago. While Error isn’t too well versed in the reclusive gods of Pantheontale, you make sure to include enough drama and rumours in between your retellings of all the ways they’ve annoyed you in order to appeal to the side of him that likes soap operas. For all that he said that he doesn’t want to hear you talk, he barely interrupts beyond asking clarifying questions. It’s the most you’ve talked in decades.

“ Nightmare w-wants some kind of t-truce. Like he’s got anything I’d n-need,” Error complains as soon as he’s seated. It’s only a forearm’s length away, now. While you’ll likely never be able to touch him, his aura brings a comfort.

“He might know about Dream and Ink starting to work with the council. Though has he really not tried working with you before?”

“Y-yeah, but he’s really insistent about it n-now. One stalker’s enough,” he finishes with a meaningful side-eye to you. You just give a grin and a shrug, you know he’d have told you if he had a problem with your habit of keeping an eye on him.

“Why not try? You can just leave him on his own if he tries anything, and I’m sure he knows it.”

With the way he petulantly crosses his arms and looks away, he was likely hoping that you’d agree about staying away from Nightmare. While you’re not too sure about the self proclaimed King of Negativity (you think it’s ridiculous that that’s the honorific he’s chosen), you’d like Error to have more support. You’re not too sure how helpful you can be. Sure, you could help him in fights, but you’re still hesitant to do anything too useful. Not to mention that despite your constant presence, you’re still fairly unknown to the multiverse and would prefer to stay that way.

Still, Error doesn’t seem like he wants anything to do with others, not counting you. You can’t think of many ways to convince him, but there is one that immediately comes to mind. Shared suffering.

“What if I come with you to whatever meeting he wants to set up. I haven’t really interacted with him beyond cleaning up his messes, and I doubt he wants to see me, either. It’ll make sure that everyone involved is uncomfortable.” You give him a grimace, already dreading interacting with people. Nightmare is… kind of cool, but only from a distance. You expect him to be manipulative, so you doubt you could be comfortable around him.

Error gains a contemplative look that forms into smugness. “A-alright, but I won’t tell him y-you’re coming. Wait here until I open a portal.” He gets up to leave.

“Wait, right now?” you ask, wide-eyed.

“Y-yeah, he asked me a bit ago, but he’ll probably still be keeping an eye on the m-meeting spot.” And then he’s gone. You float up to wait for the portal. You fiddle a bit with the clasp on your cloak, and decide that you’ll stop working during the meeting. With Error it’s easy to just be, but for the first time in a long time you’re feeling a bit anxious about social interaction. Not that you really interact with anyone other than your brother and Life. And Error, now. Maybe this is too much too fast, you’ve never really cared about the opinions of others, but with Error there’s similarities that make you desperate to find connection. And even though you’re not too sure about whether you can get along with Nightmare as easily, you still hope that there’s more to him than what you’ve seen.

All three of you are darker sides to the balances of the multiverse. The ones that do a thankless job but keep things running anyways. Nightmare might have some ambitions of gaining power on the side, but you’re not that sure about his motivations.

Much too soon, the portal opens, and you wrap things up with all your other projections to simply focus on the now. You straighten up and float calmly through the crack in reality, finding comfort in the buzz of Error’s magic. On the other side you face a smug Error and a somewhat perturbed Nightmare, though he hides it well. His tentacles lash behind him before they’re forced to stillness.

“Hello, Nightmare. I hope you don’t mind my intrusion, but Error’s comfort is my main priority,” you tilt your head with a bland smile at him. You know that he can sense your anxiety, but he should be able to tell that it’s not out of fear. While you’re floating, you’re still the shortest of the three of you, but you know that Nightmare is the one at a disadvantage even if Error and you weren’t allied.

“Death. What a… pleasant surprise. How long have you and Error been acquainted?”

“A-and what makes you t-think you can ask us q-questions? Just g-get on with your shitty pitch so I can l-leave,” Error waves his question off impatiently.

“Don’t mind me. Though feel free to pitch to me as well. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll at least hear you out.” You don’t really have anything to offer Nightmare, but it’d be nice to feel wanted. He gives you a considering look and you realize that while your emotions have never been particularly loud, you might a bit too obviously desperate for connection. With only the three of you in this empty AU, Nightmare’s free to sense all your emotions. The thought has you cringing and looking away, much to Error’s confusion.

“Reaper? I-is the bastard already d-doing something?” He seems worried about you. Your face heats up and your shoulders hike up a bit in embarrassment.

“No, I just didn’t think about the fact that I was offering myself up to spend time around an empath. It’s kind of impossible to be actually intimidating when the guy I’m trying to intimidate can tell how starved for affection I am,” you explain reluctantly. While you don’t like that you’re sharing this much around Nightmare, it’s not like it’s news to him. He even chuckles a bit at your admission, though covers it up with a cough. When you look back, Error’s glaring at him. You give a small grin at the sight.

“Aww, protecting my honour? How nice of you, Error.” The tease turns the glare to you before he rolls his eyes and turns back to Nightmare.

“Just g-get on with it, already.”

The momentary change in subject seems to have eased Nightmare back to his usual confidence. Maybe the lack of proper interaction with you had left him unsure about how to react, but just a moment in your presence has likely cleared up what your deal is. You’re tempted to summon your scythe to try to regain some respect, but you don’t really care that much. Being feared isn’t something you’ve ever enjoyed.

“With Ink and my brother enlisting more help, particularly from the Omega Timeline, it would be best for us to join forces. We will both likely be facing even more resistance soon, so it would be prudent to get used to working together as soon as possible. And while I did not plan for it, Reaper’s help would certainly be appreciated as well,” the smile he gives you is almost nice. Seeing him like this has you averting your eyes. You’ve only seen him from a distance after that first meeting, and when he isn’t growling at you his voice has heat rising to your cheeks again, though for different reasons than before. Still…

“I can’t help you. At least not directly. I’m not interested in fighting, but I’m still likely only second to Core Frisk in gaining information.”

“Oh? How so? Because you can be invisible to most people?”

“That, and I can be in a lot of places at once. Really, I’m working at pretty much all times, this is probably the first time in decades that I’m just… here,” you bring your hand to the back of your neck. You know that the information probably makes you come across as some workaholic, but it’s really the best way to minimize the amount of splitting your focus you have to do. Though, maybe if you had actual free time, it’d be easier to work harder…

“W-wait you mean even when w-we..?” Error cuts in.

Ah. You cringe a bit. “It’s… yeah, but it doesn’t take much of my focus anyway. Most of my focus is on you, even if I’m working at the same time,” you assure.

“Have you ever had a v-vacation? Time o-off?” Oh. He’s… worried?

“It’s not like I need a vacation. My work’s mostly just boring, really.”

“Do you have any hobbies? Do you do anything for entertainment?” Oh god even Nightmare’s getting on your case.

“Hey, you don’t even know me, stay out of this,” you point to him with a glare.

“A-answer the q-question, Reaper.”

Oh no. You fiddle with your clasp as you look between them.

“Well I mean… I hang out with Error?”

“Try a-again,” he glares.

“I… don’t really… like anything? Everything’s just… dull,” you admit. Error seems to be trying to puzzle you out, while Nightmare gains a contemplative look.

“Perhaps you would benefit from being around people more, and actually having proper working hours. As long as you behave, I could offer a room in my mansion.”

You look to him incredulously. “As nice as that is, you are aware that my touch kills mortals, right? Like the ones that live in that mansion of yours? One wrong move and you lose an… employee,” you fumble a bit on what those guys of his are. Your touch seems to come as a surprise to him, though perhaps it’s not that odd given that you avoid people like the plague. It seems that it’s news to Error too, even though you’d think that you’ve mentioned it before, even in passing.

“And you can’t control it?”

“Nope. I’ve tried, but either it’s impossible or has some requirement I haven’t fulfilled yet. Probably something unlikely like being consistently happy. Maybe Error could do something with my code, but I’m not too sure about if we’re quite there yet in our relationship,” you finish with a solemn bow of your head. You hear Error stutter next to you, which was your goal.

“Frankly, the risk isn’t too high since I can sense souls, but it’d never be zero.”

Nightmare looks like he might regret the offer, but is too proud to take it back. You, on the other hand, aren’t sure if being around people that would die upon physical contact with you would be better or worse for your mental health. The idea of a bed in a place that isn’t your universe is tempting, though. You haven’t slept in… Oh stars. Nightmare seems to sense your horror.

“What is it?” he asks in a hurried tone. You laugh a bit, it feels like such a stupid thing to panic about.

“I… don’t remember the last time I slept. I mean, I’ve lied down in bed a few times to rest, but even then I’ve usually been working at the same time.”

While it’s hardly a crisis, Error looks horrified nonetheless.

“T-that’s it. You’re g-going to the octopus’ shitty h-house and sleeping. We can t-talk about the deal then,” he looks to Nightmare and then turns back to you with his hands reaching for his sockets.

“Oh, Error, you don’t need to-” You’re wrapped in strings before you can finish. Error orders Nightmare to open a portal to his mansion, who, while he doesn’t seem to like being bossed around, does as instructed. The strings aren’t uncomfortable, but you feel a bit ridiculous floating behind Error like a balloon. The portal leads to a bedroom that’s as fancy as it is impersonal. A guest bedroom, you’d assume. You’re swiftly deposited onto the bed, but rather than dismissing the strings, Error ties them to the bed posts.

“Error, this looks very wrong. I promise to sleep, I’m just as horrified as you are,” you plead with your face likely covered in a blush. The strings are tied very haphazardly, but the mental image is still strong. Error blushes at the realization too, and luckily complies. Still, as he’s following Nightmare out, he points to you.

“Y-you’d better not b-be working for at least a d-day, or I’ll tie you to that bed a-anyway!”

“ooh, kinky,” comes a voice you distantly recognize as Killer. The door closes, but you can still hear Error’s muffled voice rising in annoyance. You get up from bed to strip your outer layers and climb under the covers.

The souls of the multiverse call to you, but they’ll still be there when you wake up. The emptiness deep in your being feels no closer to emerging than it has since you finished cleaning up the worst of the corruption when you first emerged into the multiverse. No matter their immortality, you’ll likely outlive everyone in this multiverse. Maybe you should help even if others are just using you. You wonder what it’d feel like to be a part of something as you fall asleep.

Chapter Text

You wake up slowly, feeling like you’re settling into your body. Only now that you’ve gotten sleep can you feel how bad you were before. Sure, you don’t need sleep, but years without has left you with an exhaustion so deeply ingrained that you didn’t even realize it was there until it was gone. You feel like a person now. You shift in the bed to look around the room, finding it dimly lit with the curtains slightly opened, illuminating the figure sitting in the armchair beside the windows.

Error is sewing. You wonder if he’s been here the whole time you’ve been asleep. Waiting for you to wake up, or looking out for you in untrustworthy territory? Both options bring a warmth to your chest, and the room feels brighter with it. No, it is brighter, you realize, looking at Error. Another thing you didn’t realize until it changed, the colors of the world had been so dull before. He looks so bright now, but you know that the colors must’ve been slowly bled out of your world before.

Those vibrant eyes look up from the doll and settle on you.

“R-Reaper? Your e-eyes..?” Error startles, squinting in confusion.

Your eyes? Surely enough, a slight bit of focus tells you that your magic has pooled into your sockets once more. You laugh in shock, they’re back? A hundred years and a nap is all it takes to make you feel whole again? (You know that it wasn’t just the sleep, but it certainly helped.)

“Don’t worry, it just means I’m happy. How long was I asleep?”

“I don’t k-know. Maybe like half a day?”

“That would be correct,” Nightmare confirms as he emerges from the shadows. Error immediately goes on the defensive, rising from the chair.

“Don’t you k-know how to knock-k?”

“This is my home, and I wished to speak with Reaper as soon as possible,” he’s smirking, giving away his amusement at Error’s annoyance. You get up to throw your dress, cloak and shoes on, feeling a bit annoyed too at having to dress in front of Nightmare, but it’s not like you’re flashing anyone with your undershirt and pants already on.

“What do you need, Nightmare?” you ask when fastening your belt.

“We can speak in my office.” That’s a non-answer if you’ve ever heard one. Error’s not too happy about it either.

“You’re not t-taking him anywhere w-without me, so you m-might as well cough it up.”

“Do you honestly think he needs your protection? I have no intentions of attempting to harm him.”

“ He can speak for himself, and would like to have at least some information before making his decision. You’re both acting ridiculous,” you interrupt, finally pulling your gloves on.

“...Error and I have come to an agreement regarding the alliance, but I still wish to clear things up with you.”

“Well, s-since it’s about our deal, I might as w-well be there, too,” Error steps up next to you, but you float closer to Nightmare and the door.

“Actually, it would probably be best if I go alone. I’ll be fine, we can hang out later,” you object. You’re not too sure how to frame the fact that Error being there would likely just make everything more difficult, as Nightmare would have to accommodate for his temper alongside with whatever needs to be discussed in the first place.

“Yes, you have nothing to worry about, Error. You know that I have Reaper’s best interests in mind,” Nightmare adds smugly, pretty much ruining your chances of letting Error down gently. The second sentence was a bit oddly emphasized, but it didn’t sound threatening, so you’ll let it slide. You turn to placate Error, but find him settling in the armchair again despite looking no less pissed.

“F-fine. But you k-know that if anything happens-” “I am aware, yes,” Nightmare cuts off Error’s increasingly staticky voice, though the static itself remains in the room. After a moment of no more protest from Error, he turns to walk to the door, and you follow him out. You think you feel Nightmare’s tentacles hover around your back, but when you turn to look they’re simply swaying aimlessly.

As much as you want to get along with Nightmare, you can’t make it too easy for him. As a god, you can’t go around lending your power carelessly. In this situation in particular, the moment you make a move too big, you’ll be making your choice in who you can interact with without distrust. Not that anyone would be too quick to trust you regardless.

Still, in this moment, while Nightmare’s been referring to you by your more familiar name since hearing it, you need to be Death, not Reaper. Your eyelights had disappeared at some point after Nightmare appeared, and it’s simple enough to let your face fall into that blank frown. You haven’t had to bring your walls up since you left your universe of origin.

“Are you not bothered by Error’s clear lack of respect? He thinks you to be something he needs to protect, despite your position,” Nightmare breaks the silence after a few moments.

“Not really, it’s nice to be cared about. I guess since you’ve only mortals to look after, it might be different, but friends protect each other regardless of their ability,” you’re not too frosty yet, you’re in too good of a mood to go into full Death mode, but the comment does still annoy you a bit. To his credit, Nightmare does back off.

“I see. So you wish to protect him, as well.” The conversation dies there, as you reach the door to his office. He holds the door for you and gestures you to his desk, where the two of you settle.

“Error and I have agreed to assist each other when our opponents outpower us, but there is no infallible way of informing each other when it is necessary. You would be the fastest and most reliable link, should you be willing to accompany us when needed. It’s the most direct way you can assist us, if you are truly set in not taking part in fights.”

The last sentence feels like a challenge, but you’re fine with the task. You already keep an eye on Error more often than not. If Nightmare’s fine with it you have no issue with watching over him, as well.

“That sounds fine. Feel free to ask me for help with whatever you need, though I can’t make any promises.”

He gives you an unreadable look. His tentacles were retracted when he sat, so you don’t have any help from them either.

“Why is it that you are not interested in fighting? Would you help Error when he needs it?”

You hum. “Is this a simple curiosity, or are you asking something of me?”

“...Curiosity. You understand how difficult it is to believe that Death is a pacifist, do you not?”

“I am not. I’m just not interested in fighting in the battles of others. I don’t trust you enough to lend my strength to you, Nightmare.” You will not help him that directly until you trust him (or until you like him enough to not care if you’re being used). While you’d be willing to help Error by now, he hasn’t really needed you yet and with this alliance likely won’t need you for a while longer.

“ Of course. It would be presumptious of me to expect such, especially since I have yet to offer you anything.”

“Do you have anything you believe I’d need?”

“I do, though it is different from what I have asked for. Do you expect to get by with only Error’s companionship?”

Really? He thinks you need- okay yeah, you want friends, but in this scenario it feels a bit too much like a business transaction.

“I do already have friends besides Error. I visit Respite and Life every few months.”

“Hm. While that’s good, are they really a part of your life? From what I understand, you’re rather separate from the other gods of Pantheontale. They might be there when you seek them out, but can you rely on them for consistent support?”

You want to deny it, but can’t. It’s not his place to make assumptions like that, but you can’t think of any way to argue when it’s true to how you feel. You love Paps and Tori, but you feel as if you’ve drifted away from them ever since you left for the multiverse. You’re not a part of each others’ lives outside of catching up whenever you feel like visiting. Still, it being correct doesn’t mean that you’re not offended. Nightmare sighs.

“I’m not trying to belittle your relationships, I am merely explaining why I believe you would benefit from my help,” he placates.

“And you think you’re a good option?” you raise a brow in performative disbelief.

“Error is a good start, but in there is something that you need that he’s no help in providing.” He lays his hand on the desk between you two, palm up. Your frown twitches.

“I don’t need touch, and it’s hardly a failing on Error’s part that-” “I am not insinuating that it is. And while it is true that you can go without, do you want to?” You take a breath to calm yourself. You’re too on edge, too defensive. You look at his hand. You haven’t touched anyone other than your brother and Life since Geno pushed you away. With Geno, the both of you benefitted from each others’ company, but here the dynamic is different. Still… maybe you do need this.

The hand feels slightly cool through your glove, but only barely. You’re not warm, so it’s likely less noticable to you than it would be to someone else. The tension you hadn’t managed to dispel disappears with the touch. Nightmare changes the hold to slot your fingers together, and you relax further and feel almost lost in the touch.

But- no, something’s not right.

You wrench your hand away and flicker out of existence before appearing again further from the desk, hovering midair with your wings out and extended as far as they can in the room. The temperature plummets and shadows grow longer as your furiously blank stare bores into Nightmare, who gets up as well. His tentacles come out, but only manage an aborted move before being forced into stillness.

“You would dare to use your power on me? Attempt to bend Death to your will? Are you truly so arrogant, Negativity?” Your voice is both oppressively loud and silent. It’s as if when you speak, the world holds its breath and your voice is the only sound left.

“Do you think me a fool? I did not affect your reaction in any way, your feelings were all your own.” Despite the precarious situation, Nightmare’s voice is steady and his face calm. The only reaction he fails to completely suppress is the tremble that briefly passes his tentacles.

“You continue to attempt manipulating me? You might be a skillful liar, but I know that I would not trust you so easily.” You focus on the hand he held. The coolness lingers, a stain of magic that hasn’t completely faded yet. Though it’s difficult to discern from your own: Nightmare’s slick coolness against your own deathly chill.

“Perhaps the trust was a response to our similarity. I cannot prove that I did nothing, but do you truly think I would jeopardize our relationship so soon? Cast aside your paranoia for a moment and think objectively,” his tone turns accusing. His lie holds no cracks, but you’re certain that you’re right. But… did you feel anything off when you relaxed in his grip? You can’t recall, the panic that followed was too overshadowing. And while you suspect that his magic was left on your hand, your escalation has saturated the air with your magic so thoroughly that you can’t really tell. The uncertainty eats at you, either you really are paranoid or Nightmare is a seamless liar. Neither is a great option.

You can’t go back to Error like this, he’d call off the alliance without hesitation. Haltingly, you demanifest your wings and float back to your seat. The cold and dark recede, leaving only the frost on the windows.

“Perhaps we should just discuss what your plans are going forward. Being of help to Error is enough of a compensation for my assistance.” Your voice is as monotone as it was on the day you introduced yourself to him. Nightmare’s posture is stiff, but he complies.

He looks frustrated. You just feel numb.

The less personal topic eases the tension left in the room. You even take some interest in Nightmare’s own work, outside of what he’s willing to do for your friend. The lowered tension also lets you introspect a bit, which leads to a harrowing realization.

Right or wrong about Nightmare’s actions, you overreacted.

Even if you were right (which you’re operating under the assumption of, because doubting your instincts is not something you’re going to entertain) all Nightmare did was absorb some of your negativity, likely to ease your doubts. Ironic that it did the exact opposite.

You’ve been too defensive with him. He’s not one of the gods of Pantheontale, even if he has his own agenda he’s not looking to harm you. Probably. It wouldn’t serve a purpose, at the very least, to drive away one of the only possible allies he has. While you’re wary of being used, that fear comes from the fear of being thrown away once you’re too much trouble, or whatever it is that causes people to leave you behind (or let you go, rather).

Still, whether you’re willing to be of great use to him or not, you should still keep the relationship amicable. Which means apologizing. Keeping your walls up will prevent any trust from being formed either way, even if letting them down is risky. Showing vulnerability means losing respect, which means that you’re more likely to be openly shunned or even attacked, which means- no, that’s not necessary anymore. The multiverse doesn’t have as many risk variables as the home of the gods. Showing vulnerability to one person isn’t likely to impact your image, considering that the person in question isn’t going to inform everyone who ever hated you about it.

All the relevant information has been discussed, all that’s left is your apology. To be sincere, you’ll need to talk more like a person. Of course Nightmare is no stranger to formal speech, but it’s not as natural coming from you, especially since you’d mostly shaken off the monotony over the course of the last twenty minutes or so. It takes a few false starts to get rid of the robotic tone:

“I’d like to apologize for my conduit- I mean, I’d like- I’m sorry about the way I reacted, earlier. I’m used to being wary around other gods, and I was too quick to throw all my walls up over something fairly minor. I know I inserted myself into this alliance unexpectedly, and I do want it to succeed. It was wrong of me to assume malicious intent so soon and with no proof,” you wince a bit at the formality re-entering your vocabulary, but at least it’s not the monotone you started with.

You nervously lace your fingers as you wait for Nightmare to speak. He seems to be surprised by the apology, and you understand. You wouldn’t expect any of the gods you’ve met except for Life and your brother to ever apologize, much less genuinely. It’s not in their nature to humble themselves.

“While you were quick to anger, you still settled down easily. I did not take offence to your actions, but I accept your apology nonetheless. I am honoured to work with you, though I would ask that you do not act so hastily with my subordinates, should they ever offend you.”

“I won’t. I’ll do my best to be careful around them, I don’t have much if any experience around people that can die.” The only time was the time between Geno returning to the land of the living and you leaving his universe for good. Other than that you’ve kept your distance from mortals. You try not to look down on them because you don’t want to be an arrogant god, but… it’s hard to really see them when there’s so many of them and their lives are so fragile.

“That is good to hear, but don’t let them get away with too much. I would prefer if they would just develop some self-preservation already…” His exasperated but fond tone brings a smile to your face, and you let your reservations fall. Your discussion has affirmed that this is the side you’re needed on more for the sake of the multiverse’s balance, but you think you’ll be fine with it.

You reach a hand out. “I’m looking forward to knowing you, Nightmare.”

He blinks before completing the handshake, though you quickly clasp his hand in both you yours. This time you bask in the contact without worrying about whether he’s doing something.

“So, is it fine if I sleep here more often? It’d probably do me some good to have an actual sleep schedule, but I don’t really like sleeping at the cottage.” Or rather the universe it’s located in. Even though you’re perfectly safe with your brother, you don’t ever feel like it. The other gods know when you visit, even if they’d never willingly approach you. The stress of your early years comes back whenever you’re in that world saturated by godly power.

“Naturally. The offer I gave to you still stands. You may have the room you slept in, or any other vacant one if you would like,” he tilts his head, “If you wish to meet the other occupants of the mansion, I will be giving a debriefing about the alliance to them later today. It will be in a few more hours, so you may spend the time between elsewhere as long as you stay aware of the time.”

“Is Error invited to the debriefing?”

“I feel that his patience has already been spread thin enough. The boys are already familiar with him and vice versa, and forcing him to interact with them at this time would likely only do more harm than good,” he explains, as if he isn’t the primary reason for Error’s increased irritability today. Your raised brow at him only gets a slight smirk in return, but you suppose you can’t blame him too much. If you were someone that enjoys riling other people up, Error would be a prime target.

You decide that the meeting’s dragged on long enough. You can’t exist multiple times too close to yourself, but you can leave the universe to hang out with Error elsewhere while also staying in your new room to wait for the debriefing. When you return to the room Error’s out of the chair he’s claimed as his own in moments, and looks you over before pretending that he wasn’t worried in the slightest.

You’re lucky that your godly domain means that your aura is almost completely unnoticable unless one is looking for it. Because you’re a personification of a lack of something, your power manifests in Absolute Nothingness. When you extend your power, it’s only noticable where you’re doing it. It reaches as far as you want it, and no more. While it is possible to notice the sudden Emptiness from outside, one would need to be very vigilant, and while Error was worried, he has no reason to assume that you flexing your aura wouldn’t cause at least some disturbance.

“T-took you long enough. What did you talk a-about?” he squints at you, though over the time you’ve known him you know that it could really mean just about anything. He does it so often that it doesn’t really equate to any one thing. You’re pretty sure he needs glasses.

“Well, mostly the alliance and my part in it. I’ll be working as the messenger pigeon between you for when help is needed. Or messenger raven, rather. Also I’ll probably be living here full time, if I want to start trying out that ‘free time’ thing,” you give a playful grin to indicate your jokes, but he doesn’t seem too amused, just rolling his eyes. You realize that he’s never seen your wings.

“Can we g-go somewhere else now? I don’t want t-to spend another second in this stuffy place. The c-code’s an eyesore, too.”

You’re fine with spending more time with him, so you agree. You’re starting to feel antsy not doing any work, but hopefully this’ll be enough of a distraction for now. Splitting your focus should help, too. The you that stays in the room takes a sketchbook out of your inventory to spend the time while the you that goes with Error just pays attention to him. You haven’t drawn in a long time, but sitting around with nothing in your hands won’t do.

The page gets filled with familiar faces.

Chapter Text

“Why’d y-you agree to this alliance-e anyway? You didn’t have to be a part of it,” Error asks you once you’re seated at your spot in Outertale. Maybe you can pay more attention to the places you go later to see if you’ll find some other places to hang out, too.

“Of course I do? I wanted you to have more people on your side, so obviously I’d be a part of the alliance too.”

“Why would I n-need people? I just agreed to it for y-you.”

“And now you’re making no sense. You’re the one who’s probably gonna be targeted more, I’m basically a neutral party as far as everyone else is concerned.”

“You won’t be if you’re a part of it-t.”

“Then I’ll deal with that. I won’t be alone for it, and I’m used to being a pariah, even if it’s been a while… So whatever consequeces there are will be worth it to help you.”

Error scowls and rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms and taps his finger for a bit, before turning back to you.

“That wasn’t the o-only reason though, was it-t?”

Maybe it’s just a guess or maybe he can somehow read that off of you, but there isn’t really a reason to withhold information from him… Even if it’s kind of embarrassing. You look away from Error.

“Well… Nightmare was also offering to… help with my touch starvation.”

“W-what-t-t!??” The glitches in his voice multiply, and you glance back at him in worry. He seems… annoyed? Your next words come out quickly to explain.

“Well since my touch kills mortals and there aren’t that many immortals outside of Pantheontale my options have been kind of-” “Hand.” Error interrupts you. He extends one of his hands towards you. What?

“What?”

“Put your hand on mine. Slowly t-though… Or just, hover it over and I’ll- Just put your hand like this and I’ll h-hold it. In a bit.” For all that he practically demanded you initially, he’s getting more nervous by the second. You slowly move your hand to mirror his, and he moves his hand to hover over yours. You feel warmth emanating from it. You look to his face to see his determined yet hesitant look, before he steels himself and grabs your hand. Immediately glitches emanate from the point of contact and he hisses a swear, but when you try to move your hand back he holds on.

“F-fuck, just- give me a second. I’m f-fine, I’m fine,” he sounds kind of like he’s trying to convince himself too, but you won’t pull away if he doesn’t want you to. Now that you’re touching, the heat of his hand is strangely patchy and inconsistent. He feels like static, but you’re not uncomfortable. You wish you’d taken your glove off, but doing so now would require moving your hand and you think Error will likely need at least a few days to be ready to touch again, so you’ll take what you can get. It’s definitely nicer than holding hands with Nightmare, if only because you truly care for Error.

“You don’t need to force yourself, but if you want to do this again sometimes I’ll always welcome it, you know?”

“Y-yeah, because you’re a freak that l-likes this stuff. I-I mean, it’s not t-terrible now I guess, but…” His hand twitches a bit and glitches race up. You consider asking him if he’s in pain, when a question to your other self causes you to freeze.

“so you’re error’s boyfriend, huh?” Killer asks from his spot to the right of the head of the table. You look to him, bewildered.

“What?” You try to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. You should be better than this at suppressing reactions, but you suppose you don’t have much experience with stuff like this.

“Killer...” Nightmare growls as he stalks over to the head of the table.

“what? error was super protective and went to his room after you two got done talking!”

“And you know this because..?”

“because i followed him? duh?”

Nightmare heaves a sigh as he takes his seat and gestures you to sit at the opposite end of it. It leaves you about three chairs away from the nearest mortal, but also makes you feel a bit isolated. You ruffle your wings in the incorporeal plane they remain in a majority of the time.

“Well, Error and I aren’t dating. We’re just good friends.”

“pfft, ‘good friends’, are you hearing this?” Killer directs the question to Dust and Horror who give you a nervous glance, but he’s not exactly being quiet. You elect to ignore him.

“What’s wrong?”

You feel the blush on your face from Killer’s question, but shake it off. It’s not that big of a deal.

“Killer just said something that caught me off guard.”

“What’d he s-say?”

“He called me your boyfriend,” you cringe. It’s so… childish.

“Ugh, how do they keep-p making that mistake… At least it m-makes sense for Killer to say something stupid like that, but Nightmare thought that t-too…” Error mutters.

“He did?”

“Yeah he called you m-my ‘lover’, ugh…” Error scowls but his face is looking a bit flushed too.

If Nightmare thinks that… Does he see something you don’t? You probably still have romantic feelings for Error but assuming that you’re in a relationship implies that Error also… no, Nightmare probably can’t tell between platonic and romantic love. He probably made assumptions from something else.

As Nightmare explains the alliance to his gang, you’re just mostly sitting there without much to say. You do note that while he mentions how you’ll help and that you’ll be staying at the mansion, he doesn’t say anything about the physical contact thing. You won’t be saying anything if he won’t, it’s not like it’s relevant to the others. You’re better off without them knowing about it. The lack of clear compensation for you seems to nag at Killer, though.

“so what’s the shortstack getting out of this?” he tilts his head at you. The casual disrespect has your wings twitching, but nothing shows on your face. You like to think you’re not as arrogant as most gods, but you might have more pride than you should. Still, a jab at your height is nothing compared to the usual “soulless beast, uncontrollable caricature of godhood, etcetera etcerera” of Pantheontale.

“ Killer, cease your disrespect of The God of Death. He is willing to work with us because he wishes to ensure Error’s wellbeing,” Nightmare’s tendrils raise towards Killer, but don’t move further. He glances at you consideringly, likely sensing that you’re not that bothered yet. Killer keeps going, turning to you.

“yeah right. what’s really in it for you?”

“Well, besides the accommodations here, if I’m ever in danger I can rely on Nightmare’s assistance.”

“...just nightmare, huh? not us, the feeble mortals?” He mocks.

“That’s not- I mean, for me to be in danger, it would likely be because of other gods, so-”

“right, not like we fight two of those on the reg, huh?”

And he’s right. You’re used to thinking of mortals as very fragile because of your deadly touch, but you shouldn’t discount them like that.

“Oh… You’re right, I’m sorry for underestimating you. I’ll do my best to avoid doing so again.” You’re tempted to add explanations, but doubt that he’d want to hear them right now. Even without them, he scoffs at your apology.

“ I believe that we’ve discussed the alliance properly now. Are there any further questions?” Nightmare apparently deems that conversation to be over.

Horror—seemingly no longer fearing for his life—decides to speaks up:

“if you’re gonna be livin’ here, will ya be joinin’ us for meals?”

“Oh, probably not… I’ll mostly just be using a room to sleep in, I don’t need to eat.”

“That wouldn’t happen to be yet another thing you have been depriving yourself of, would it?” Nightmare asks, smelling blood in the water. You don’t have a good answer, so you look at the window. He smiles sharply.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Horror. Perhaps Reaper shall join us once a week, to start with?”

“...Alright,” you concede.

“y’got any preferences?”

You try desperately to think of anything of note, but there’s really nothing major. Desserts aren’t relevant for meals, and with savory foods you’ll eat just about anything.

“No..?”

Nightmare sighs.

“You mentioned… that you’re u-used to being a pariah. I g-guess some stuff you’ve said before made it seem like you weren’t l-liked back in Pantheontale but I didn’t think about-t it much before. D-Do you think they’ll be a problem later-r?”

If word gets back to Asgore that you’re working with outsider gods, he might think you’re planning something, but that would require him to actually care about the multiverse. Last you heard, he was perfectly content in his universe, where there are plenty of worshippers and subservient gods. So you answer:

“It’s unlikely. For word to even reach them would be difficult, and they’re not keen on working with outsiders, much less leaving their universe. Since Ink and Dream seem to be working with mortals, they’ll be even less likely to take them seriously.”

“Nightmare said he’d k-keep an eye out for collaboration, so he seemed to think it might h-happen.”

“Nightmare’s never interacted with anyone from Pantheontale, as far as I know. And how does he plan to keep an eye on them, when the universe is closed to outsiders?”

Error shrugs: “He didn’t s-say. Should’ve known he was j-just posturing.”

He pauses, unconsciously drumming his fingers against your hand. You resist the urge to tighten your hold.

“Can you tell me more about what it was l-like, when you lived in Pantheontale? You’ve only ever told anecdotes and s-stuff, but…” he trails off, gazing upwards. There’s nothing but stars there, but you don’t think he’s looking at them.

“What happened with G-Gaster?” The question comes seemingly unprompted, and you startle, looking back at him. He grimaces a bit at your harried face, but doesn’t take back the question.

Gaster is… a complicated matter. There’s the longstanding lie of what happened and then there’s the truth that could destroy your brother’s life if it got out. Error wouldn’t go around telling people about it, but speaking about it at all is risky.

“I- I can’t say much about it… But the uh- the popular belief is that I killed him. Removed science from Pantheontale almost completely by destroying its god, y’know. Maybe ask about something else?” you plead.

Error’s brows furrow, but he looks mostly worried with only a bit of calculation.

“So you can k-kill gods?” It’s not off-topic, but it’s enough into a different direction that you can answer. You can even direct the conversation away, even though it’s not about something you like talking about. Brings back memories.

“Yeah, it’s only happened once though. Wasn’t on purpose. So I’m not too sure about how it happens. Really scared all the gods, though. While I was never really liked, that whole thing kind of kickstarted talks about uh… removing me from the equation,” you cringe the last bit out, seeing Error gain an intense glare. His glitches multiply rapidly.

“W-What-t, they learnt-t that k-killing a god removes t-their d-domain and wa-wanted to d-do it again-in?” he growls out.

“I think the general idea was that since Res is also a god of death getting rid of me wouldn’t have consequences. Probably didn’t help that I kind of went completely expressionless in public at that point. So they thought I was some emotionless killing machine or whatever” you try to act leisurely to prevent Error from getting too upset, but your words don’t seem to help any. He’s already muttering to himself, and you worry that if you don’t get him to calm down at least a little he might decide to test his mettle against a universe full of gods.

“Look, whatever animosity they have for me is kind of irrelevant now since I’m out here. I think they consider this like exile or something, while for me it’s just been a nice change in scenery. They probably don’t even care about the whole ability to kill gods thing anymore.” Okay that last bit was completely just bullshit, but you doubt that they want to send kill squads after you or anything. Considering how you fended off attacks seemingly effortlessly (it wasn’t but you made it a point to make it seem effortless) before they probably wouldn’t even dare to.

Error’s pretty evidently seen through your attempt to calm him down with the flat stare he’s giving you but at least you’re no longer complicit in whatever plans he was making. Maybe.

“Why do you s-say worrying s-shit and then act like it d-doesn’t even matter?” he sighs.

“Because most of it’s like centuries old drama?” you offer.

He plops his forehead on your shoulder for like a second before drawing back with a grimace from the glitches that flare up, and takes his hand back in the same motion.

“C’mon, I’m g-gonna show you how to m-make plushies.”

Once you get out of that meeting, you spread out your awareness to the multiverse and start working again. Your backlog doesn’t seem too horrible.

Chapter Text

Since you’re now a communication system, two of you need to always stay in Error and Nightmare’s vicinities. Following Error around isn’t anything new, but with Nightmare it’s some getting used to. He always asks before initiating physical contact, but it’s still new. You end up mostly staying with him in his office, reading books he recommends you or leaning your chin over his shoulder to look at the files he looks through, each one containing information on different universes and their uses. He plans ways of increasing negativity and helping his claimed universes, looks through his resources and catalogues possible threats and allies. Sometimes he’ll shoo you to the other end of the room—“This is sensitive information, and our truce is still young”—but most of it seems to just be everyday business.

He once asks about your wings and their maintenance. Since you rarely manifest them on the physical plane, your feathers don’t tend to get out order, so you can get by with letting your brother preen your wings once every decade or so. You tell as much to Nightmare, and also mention that it’s only something to do once you’re particularly close. He nods in understanding, but then asks if it’s healthy for you to have your wings demanifested for so long. You explain that they still exist and just aren’t currently corporeal, but that’s not the full truth and he seems to know it, given the sceptical look he gives you. Your wings are a vulnerability, not just in that they show your emotions much easier than your face, but also in that they’re sensitive. Not because they’re weak, but because not having them in the physical plane for a vast majority of time means that they’re even less used to touch than the rest of you.

It’s a bit foolish that you mostly only manifest them in hostile situations as a means to intimidate, but that tends to be more of an instinctual reaction than anything.

Your first meal with the group is… interesting. You look helplessly at the variety of foods on the table, barely recognizing anything. Nightmare has opted to seat you beside him, with his subordinates on the other side of the table, and thus takes it upon himself to put a bit of everything on your plate while explaining what they are. It’s a bit humiliating, grabbing the knife and fork and spending a good ten seconds figuring out how to hold them comfortably, and the looks across the table don’t help when you bring a slice of chicken to your mouth. It’s been a few years since you’ve last eaten, a cake recipe Respite had gotten from an old woman he’d helped across the veil, so you’re uprepared for the taste, as good as it likely is (This happens almost every time you eat. Usually your brother reminds you to eat something plainer first, but he’s not here for this). You unsummon your tongue before you can gag, and chew the rest of the way before looking back at the others. Nightmare seems worried, Horror’s eye has shrunken, Dust has completely focused on his own meal, and Killer…

“wow, it’s like you’ve never eaten before. d’ya need to be fed like a baby bird or something?”

“Killer, your comments are unwanted at this time. Are you alright, Reaper?”

You cough a bit before nodding. You look apologetically at Horror:

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve eaten and… it was a bit much. I should probably start with something like bread to get used to taste again.”

For the rest of the meal you make your way through a slice of bread. Once Dust and Killer have finished and left and Horror’s packing the leftovers in tupperware in the kitchen, you look back at the plate in front of you, food now likely cooled down.

“Would you prefer lighter options for a while?”

“No, I just didn’t want to struggle through this with everyone watching.”

You start with the rice and vegetables, taking your time before moving on to the rest.

“I’ll be going to retrieve Killer now, it seems that he has forgotten his placement in dish duty today. Please tell me should you require anything,” he says before melting to a nearby shadow.

You glare at the chicken. Round 2.

A few weeks into the alliance, it finally becomes necessary. Nightmare’s doing one of his more visible attacks on a universe when Dream, Ink and a swap Sans arrive to stop them. With the local Sans keeping Horror busy with vines and weaponry (gardening tools?), and the universe’s higher concentration of positivity leaving Nightmare at a disadvantage against Dream, Killer and Dust are left with a 2v2 where one opponent is a god. You’re quick to inform Error of the situation, and while he grumbles a bit at having to leave his crocheting project unfinished he tears into the battle and snatches Ink off to a brawl of their own.

“Oh, Error, you’re here too! What a coincidence!” Ink chuckles as he slips out of the strings before they can properly tighten. “Waaait… are you… working with Nightmare? That’s so cool! I thought you were just gonna be a lonely grump forever though, haha,” his eyelights cycle between shapes in his excitement.

“Ughhh… s-stop talking, Squid-d. Let’s just fight n-now,” Error groans, throwing a few red bones that get dodged.

“Okay!! ( ง❛ᴗ❛) ง"

“I’m g-going to make you r-regret your existence-ce ♥.”

Unlike Ink, Dream doesn’t seem as thrilled about the alliance, shouting questions and accusations at Nightmare. Their fight seems more even though, Dream’s worrying about his allies leaving him unfocused. In the end, Nightmare calls for a retreat once he feels that they’ve caused enough chaos in the universe, leaving their opponents to deal with the shattered streets.

Nightmare seems upset, afterwards. He glares at his report on the events of the fight, not writing anything.

“What’s wrong?” you sit at the armrest of his chair. His eye flits to you for a moment.

“Dream has made it a habit to assume the worst of me. It appears that working with The Destroyer has not improved his opinion of me. It is of no matter.” He continues the report, snapped out of his thoughts.

“Do you… want him to think better of you?” you ask tentatively. If you were in a feud with your brother, what would you be willing to give up to end it?

“...Perhaps, but I will not give him ground he has not earned. He would not think higher of me unless I ceased my work entirely, which would only leave the multiverse in chaos. I cannot afford to give his views more weight than my position as The God of Negativity.”

So, the matter is not one that is easily solved. Unless Dream’s mind were changed, the twins’ relationship will stagnate at best. You lean against Nightmare. One of his tentacles wraps around your shoulders. You want to know more.

“What of the rest of the multiverse? Are you fine with being nothing but a villain in the eyes of the masses?”

He scoffs. “Their opinions hold no weight to me. It is nothing new to me, to be villanized. I have been scorned and blamed since my youth.” He speaks of a cruel past, but his tone holds no pain. Only bitterness. You hum.

“We are similar, in that. We, the Deaths of Pantheontale, were feared and avoided from the beginning. At first, the others didn’t understand. If gods can live forever, why can’t their worshippers? And even later, they still hate what we represent: that things must end, and change. I was fine being left on my own once I had spoken to Life and befriended her, but my brother… he’s a social being. While these days he’s happy with his close friends, back then he wanted to be loved by everyone, and the avoidance hurt him as much as being openly scorned would have. So I took it upon myself to debate, to argue, to try to be heard. But it wasn’t enough, and the others only grew tired of my voice. After insulting The God King, one of his more loyal subjects attacked me. And while he lost the fight, I did not kill him, and I suppose that caused the rest to grow bold. At the very least, it lessened the fear, and that was the opening my brother needed. He had never stopped trying to be friendly, and as I was clearly the issue, he had an easier time integrating. But… I doubt they ever really stopped fearing Death. Just forgot that he’s Death, too.” You snap out of your reverie, looking back at Nightmare.

“Oh, sorry for talking so much. And I guess, you probably never argued your way into being hated, so I can’t say we’re the complete same.”

“I do not mind a bit,” he purrs, leaning his head on a hand, “you speak beautifully when spinning a tale. I could bear to listen to you for longer.”

You blink at him, feeling a blush rising. You feel your eyes light up, too.

“Well, um, if you insist-”

Nightmare gets you to retrieve Error for a report on the fight. Error grumbles the whole way through it, giving a bare minimum recount of his interaction with Ink. You cut in to mention that they didn’t exchange many words beyond the start to ease Nightmare’s frustration. Then Nightmare calls in the rest of the group.

The main reason for the meeting was to further plan future encounters with your opponents, whether it’s optimal for Error and Nightmare to focus on their counterparts while leaving the reinforcements to the gang, and how they could maintain an advantageous position even against larger groups. Killer is of the opinion that the three of them can take on at least a dozen people at a time, but Nightmare doesn’t want to rely on that. You suggest that if Killer, Dust and Horror learn to dodge Error’s strings with certain signals, he can use large sweeping attacks to disrupt opponents even when he’s focused on fighting Ink. Error’s not thrilled about the prospect of wasting time training others, but agrees to it anyway.

At the end of the meeting, Nightmare invites Error to accompany you for the dinner.

If he thought you were bad, Error’s on another level. Nightmare gains a thousand yard stare when the silverware starts going. Your look at Error adoringly.

“...And where exactly have you learned to eat?”

“Why would I n-need to learn how to e-eat? It’s easy.”

“I see.”

Error does not get invited to another dinner for a good while.

Utilizing the alliance gets more common than not. Sometimes Error and Nightmare can do their work without interruption, especially when Nightmare sends his boys for more covert missions, but when they do get stopped it’s with a fair bit of resistance. The Stars have a rotating roster of mortals that assist them, with the exception of Blue who tends to appear at nearly every fight. They’ve even split the help into groups with different jobs: fighting, protecting/evacuating and healing. You worry that your help might be needed sooner rather than later, as they start getting wise to Error’s disruptions. After a particularly difficult fight, you’re tearing magical paint off of Error, sitting on your bed at the mansion. You carefully sap away the magical potency of the attack without affecting the person underneath, letting the now gray strips tear off without resistance. You can’t help Nightmare with the arrows stuck in him in the same way, as they’re embedded into him and thus you might cause harm to him by attempting to end the positivity radiating off of them.

“I think the next time it gets this bad, I’ll step in.”

“Unnecessary. You are our trump card, it would be best to save your appearance for when it is truly needed.” He lets out a quiet grunt as he tears an arrow out from his back, scowling at the hole left behind. You look at him sullenly.

“You s-shouldn’t worry about t-this. It’s not e-even that bad.” Error chimes in from beside you. He wraps a few strings loosely around you as if in an embrace.

“I still don’t like seeing you hurt. What’s even so bad about me being acknowledged as your ally?” Their insistence on you not participating actually makes you more willing to help, as it’s clear that they don’t just care for how useful you can be for them.

“The Stars may choose to contact Pantheontale, which would only cause more difficulty. If they gain even one more god on their side, it might give them the advantage against us.”

“That’s depending on if they even figure out how to contact them, and one god definitely won’t be enough. I’ve fought four at a time in the past.” Granted, they weren’t particularly powerful gods, but they weren’t the weakest either.

“But have you fought as of recent? Would you still be able to do so?”

You don’t know. It has been a while.

“Then let me spar with you two. I’ll get used to it again.”

They don’t look thrilled, but agree to try once they’ve recovered.

Your fighting style, in one word, is “simple”. Your one goal is to look unbothered, like the fight’s not even worth your time. You make minimal movements and use only your scythe and gravity magic, and before you would’ve used your aura to unsettle and intimidate to coax your opponent into giving up. However, it’s not exactly optimal for a large scale fight. Out here, your goal should be to help end the fight as soon as possible, and if that isn’t possible, to shield your allies from damage as best you can. And to do that, your best bet is a particular application of death. Magic is a form of life, an extension of its wielder. Once it’s separate, harming it will not harm its user, but you can “kill” it. If an attack touches you, it’ll still harm you, but you can extend the reach of and direct your killing touch, or alternatively use your scythe. When you swat away one of Error’s bone attacks, it shatters into dust in moments.

Admittedly, you are rusty. Your dodges aren’t as refined as they used to be, and while you can direct your scythe as well as ever, you’re not as good at prioritizing targets. Still, the sparring produces results quickly. These movements have been interwoven into your very being.

You’ll admit that maybe Nightmare is right about it being best not show yourself too soon, but you can still help discreetly before it’s necessary. So The Stars start experiencing a problem where sometimes their attacks will fizzle out before making contact with their target. Of course, the feel of death magic will lead them to the correct conclusion sooner or later, but due to the battlefield being saturated by four different gods at the same time, it’s a bit difficult to notice things like that. Or at least so you hope. It seems to go well enough for a few fights, at least, until one day, as you’re evaporating a positivity arrow’s potency before it reaches Nightmare, Dream notes upon it.

"I thought I felt his presence before... Didn't you say you wanted to stay unaffiliated, Death?"

You’re unsure if you want to answer. On one hand, your presence is now going to be known no matter what you do, so you can’t really rely on surprise attacks anymore, but you’re also not interested in this conversation. Your dilemma is solved by a glitchy yelp from the other side of the town square, drawing your gaze to Error who’s just gotten a faceful of corrosive red paint. In a blink you’ve flickered over to intercept another swing of Ink’s brush with your scythe. Now visible, you sweep a hand to send him hurtling into a building before turning to Error to help him wipe the paint off.

You’ve just gotten enough off to clear one of his eyes before the now visible eye widens and he grabs you with his strings to swing you away from the reemerged Ink’s attack.

“Oh, hi Death! So are you a part of the evil teamup too? You definitely fit in with the aesthetics!” Ink… compliments? The tone’s definitely positive.

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome! I do have to beat you up though, since you’re on Error’s team. Sorry in advance ;P” He swings his brush again to send out green projectiles. It’s easy enough to avoid them, and you throw your scythe and control its trajectory to attack back.

You know that Ink can just paint back any limbs he loses, so just as it’s about to impact the brush you make it flicker past to cut at Ink’s elbow. He looks at the missing arm and mutters an “Oh that’s not good” before Error’s strings make an appearance to grab him up. Error side-eyes you

“I didn’t n-need h-help.”

“Yeah, but I was kinda caught anyways. So might as well make the most of it.” You lean on your scythe and survey the area. It’s definitely trashed, but you’re fairly certain that the plan was more wide-scale destruction, waylaid by the interruption of The Stars. The others seem to be handling themselves well enough.

“Wanna go trash the city a bit more?” you suggest.

“Sure,” Error smirks.

“Hey, don’t do that maybe?” comes from the dangling Ink.

His protest goes ignored.

Nightmare turns to you once all of you have emerged in the manor’s lobby.

“Was it necessary to show yourself so soon?”

“Dream clearly recognized me, he would’ve told the others anyway.”

“If you had waited, I may have been able to divert his suspicions.”

“Even if I stopped helping, my emotions would’ve still been noticable. I doubt you could’ve masked my presence.”

Nightmare crosses his arms and closes his eye as his tentacles lash a few times. The loss of a backup plan is frustrating, and perhaps you shouldn’t have been assisting as of recent, but there had always been a chance of discovery no matter what you did because Dream and Ink would have been able to notice you whenever, even though it was unlikely in a chaotic battle.

“It’s not like t-they have a counter to Reaper anyway-y. Since he’s friends with his c-counterpart and all.” Error chimes in.

“i don’t get why reaper hasn’t just been participating since the beginning,” Dust says. He seems to freeze under the focus of all three of you, so you answer quickly.

“I had personal reasons for not wanting to assist you in fights initially, though as of recent the reason’s shifted to benefitting from me being a backup plan. We can get away with being a bit reckless if we know that we have more power than our opponents are prepared for.”

“We will need to capitalize on the coming week, when our enemies are still restructuring their battleplans against us. After that, we will need to be more careful. I will now go prepare plans of action.”

You follow Nightmare as he leaves, likely to go to his office. You hear Error follow behind you. Killer says something about ducklings, and you hear Error do something with his strings but trust that he hasn’t harmed anyone.

“Do you need something?”

“Oh, I was just thinking that I could help. I can give universe suggestions if nothing else. Dunno about Error, though.”

“I was j-just-- nevermind. I guess it would b-be better if we coordinated the t-timing. So that at least one of us can get work d-done without interruptions before going to help the o-other.”

“And if The Stars split their forces to fight us both?”

“Well, I can fight in two different universes at once. It’s a bit harder, but since Dream and Ink would be split up, I wouldn’t have as much to worry about. I’m not too sure about if I should be careful about killing their mortals, though…” It definitely wouldn’t endear you to anyone, but being too careful would impact your effectiveness in combat. It would likely be best to just avoid it where you can while not going out of your way if someone’s foolish enough to get too close. They could still blame you for it, but it would arguably not be your fault.

“I suppose it will be helpful to have multiple perspectives for my plans. Very well, then.”

You end up floating between leaning over Nightmare at his desk and sitting next to Error on the sofa. Eventually Nightmare just brings the needed files to the coffee table so you can sit between them. Error tries leaning on you for a bit, but seems to reach his limit in a few minutes. It’s still more than enough to light up your eyes.

You manage to recount some information about a universe’s fragile political situation from a particularly talkative soul you reaped a few weeks ago. That, at least, will be easy to tip the balance on. You’ve been trying to pay a bit more attention to them, now that you could actually benefit from the information. You gain a headpat for the effort. It’s only a little patronizing.

“Hey Paps, I’m back,” you call to the kitchen where you sense your brother.

“Ah, Perfect timing! I Was Just Finishing My Newest Recipe! It Is Even Light Enough That You Will Likely Not Need Many Preparatory Foods!” your brother calls back.

You step in to watch him pull out another plate from the cabinets before moving to look through food options for you.

“Actually, I don’t need anything like that this time. I’ve been eating a few times a week as of recent,” you proudly announce. Papyrus turns to you with a dazzling smile, completely overshadowing your small quirk of the corners of your mouth.

“Really!? Outstanding, Why Is That?”

“Well, I’ve been spending some time with Nightmare, the god of Negativity, who in turn spends his time with mortals, so he has a habit of eating with them,” you recount fondly.

“Negativity, Huh? I Had Assumed You Would Go For Destruction, With The Way You Have Sung His Praises,” he taps his chin thoughtfully. You blush a bit at the reminder, though he’s definitely exaggerating.

“Well, I am also with Error, was even before Nightmare,” you admit. Your brother blinks at you for a bit, before grasping your shoulders.

“Two Consorts!? Why Am I Only Hearing About This Now!?” he shouts, starting to shake you.

“H-Huh???” Why is he- oh, no, he’s definitely been spending time with Love, he’s completely mixed up! “No! Neither of them are my- my consorts! We are just friends! Allies!”

He stops shaking you. “Really?” he raises a brow.

“Yes, really.” you furrow yours.

“...Then Why Are You Blushing, Dear Brother?” he asks with a sweet voice. Your brother has been replaced with some sort of fiend. If you didn’t want to avoid Pantheontale’s residents at all costs, you would be marching up to Mettaton’s unnecessarily fancy abode.

“Because you made outrageous insinuations about my relationships, oh brother mine,” you respond with a creeping grin. It’s not a nice grin. Papyrus does not get the hint.

“I Believe The Brother I Know Wouldn’t Get So Flustered Over Incorrect Assumptions About His Relationships.”

“Oh I am not flustered. I am merely livid.”

And before he can continue his retorts, you float up quickly to hit your head on his. He stumbles back and you flicker towards the pastries on the counter.

“What Are You-” your brother starts, but you’ve already started licking each and every one of them. Papyrus shrieks and moves to remove you, but you are committed to your task, and slip around in his hold to get the last of them. He releases you in favour of dropping on his knees to the floor, theatrically sobbing. “How Could You, Brother? How Will I Ever Gift These To My Dear Love Now?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh please, you called it your newest recipe when I came in here. You’re not giving your test batch to anyone.” “Foiled Again…” he shakes his fist.

You grab one of the now claimed pastries to eat while sitting at the table. It’s lightly sweet and nutty. Papyrus also grabs one and sits opposite of you.

“But Really Brother, I Know You Have Admired Destruction For Quite Some Time. Why Not Pursue Romance?”

You look away. You’ve never really told Papyrus about the details of you and Geno’s falling out, but he knows enough. “I don’t want to lose it again.”

He tilts his head. “I Do Not See How Changing The Kind Of Relationship Would Weaken It In Any Way.”

“Well it clearly somehow did that with… him. Or maybe- maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much if we’d just stayed as friends.”

“You Know That’s Not True, Reaper. Maybe If You’d Hidden Those Feelings Away, You Wouldn’t Have Been As Close At The End, But It Would Only Have Been Because Of The Lack Of Honesty Between You. And It Still Would Have Hurt, If Only For The Doubts Of What Could Have Been.”

Papyrus gets up to prepare some tea, while you stew in your thoughts. A lack of honesty had saturated your relationship with Geno, even though the version of you he got was likely the most authentic anyone had gotten at that point. And you never really pushed him on anything. Would a mortal not fear a god that kept secrets? Would a god of death who is anxious and a fumbling mess not seem like a laughable charade?

Death is an unknowable unfeeling entity, death at its most cruel.

Reaper is confident and quiet, a calm smile that always has an answer.

Silverbell is just lost. Someone who never learned how to truly speak for himself, who yearns and looks but never dares to reach.

But have you not been Silverbell to Error and Nightmare? Have you not been lost, finding direction in their confidence?

Papyrus places a teacup in front of you. Two silvery eyelights look back at you.

Chapter Text

“Other Than Your Romantic Prospects, What Have You Been Up To?”

“Well, I’m allied with Error and Nightmare against… most of the multiverse, I suppose.”

Papyrus gives you a flat look. “Of Course. Was That Really Necessary, Reaper?”

You give him a look right back. “Obviously. I’m not just gonna stand by, now that I’ve gotten to care about them.”

He sighs sadly. “Yes, I Am Not Saying You Should, But… Just Don’t Take Any More Blame Than You Have To, This Time. You Know It’s One Of My Biggest Regrets.”

“You know telling the truth wouldn’t change anything at this point,” you remind him.

“I Am Now Speaking Of The Future. You Will Not Take Any Unnecessary Falls Anymore, Understand?” he asks, voice now steely. You clutch the cup in your hands.

“I won’t. They probably wouldn’t let me, anyway.”

“Good. If They Did, They Wouldn’t Deserve You. And You WILL Tell Me If One Of Them Upsets You.”

“Ahahah, sure,” you laugh nervously. He narrows his eyes at you.

“...I Do Not Believe You In The Slightest, But It Will Have To Do. So! Have You Been Doing Anything Other Than Joining Battles?”

So, you start recounting getting back sketching and your new pastimes: sewing, crocheting and reading. You’re not terribly invested them on their own, but you certainly enjoy doing them with company.

“I Am Glad You Are Doing Better.”

You hum in affirmation.

The name conversation needs to be either to both of them at the same time and place, or separately at different times, as you’d rather not split your focus too much for it. They’re pretty good at existing in each others’ vicinity without causing strife now, so you’ll trust that it’ll be fine. You opt to bring them to your room for it, since it’s one of the more comfortable places for you now.

“So, I generally go by Reaper, and that is my preferred name in most situations, but I also have this… nickname? I mean it’s longer than Reaper so does it count? Whatever, point is, I would like it if you two, at least sometimes, maybe just in private, would refer to me as Silverbell, or shortenings thereof.” You clasp your hands and keep your mouth shut to stop further explanations for the moment, nervously looking at Error and Nightmare. Nightmare nods once, and Error tilts his head.

“Oh, like your eyes.”

“May I ask what brought this on?”

“Well, I’ve just… been stewing on some old hurts, but even though that name reminds me of them, it’s still… important. It would make me happy, to hear it again.” You give them a sincere smile, only slightly tainted by your remaining nervousness. It must seem pretty odd to them, getting this worked up over a name.

Error seems to be in deep thought, glaring at the ground with crossed arms, glitches getting more jittery.

“Error? Are you alright?”

“I-I just f-feel l-like-- I’ve heard-”

Error freezes. His whole body goes completely still, even his glitches. His eyes turn fully blue with small white text, a dull note rings out, and a pop-up appears: [ERROR: CORRUPTED MEMORY: DATA CANNOT BE ACCESSED], followed by a filling bar appearing over his head.

You don’t know how to help him, so you turn to Nightmare.

“Do you know what’s happening? Is he ok?”

“I don’t… believe I have seen anything like this before,” he admits, seemingly as lost as you. You bat away a tentacle that tries poking Error.

Luckily, it seems like Error’s issue clears up fairly quickly; as soon as the bar is filled up, he blinks his eyes and looks around confusedly.

“W-W-What-- oh-h. I haven’t c-crashed in a w-while. Wh-What happened?”

Well, at least he knows what that was. You’re not too sure about what caused it either, and you don’t want to cause another crash accidentally, but it seems that Error has some other way of figuring out what happened, as he continues:

“L-Lost data-a? What does t-that mean? No I-I know w-what the words mean-n, what do you m-mean I ‘was trying t-to recover lost d-data’?”

“Who are you speaking to, Error?”

Error startles, glitches flaring up. It seems like he forgot about the two other people in the room.

“Uh-- just-just the voices-s. It doesn’t matter-er.”

“That doesn’t-” Nightmare cuts himself off with a sigh, “I suppose it is unimportant, for the moment.”

“So… if thinking about my other name causes you to- to crash, does that mean you can’t use it?”

“H-Huh? Oh, no, I can. I just s-shouldn’t think too hard about why it seems f-familiar.”

That seems like a confirmation of Error’s past, though the timeline of events seems to be a mess considering Geno came to being later than Error. You swallow back the bitter feelings that try to come forth. You’ve accepted this for a long time now, your suspicions being confirmed doesn’t make any difference. Most of your upset is from causing Error discomfort.

Nightmare looks between the two of you searchingly, brow furrowing. He seems to blink the expression away when you glance at him.

“Do we have to worry about this ‘crashing’ in the midst of battle?”

Error scowls at him, blushing a bit in embarrassment. “N-No. Probably. It doesn’t-t happen that much, a-and it’s never happened in a f-fight. I t-think.”

“You think?”

“Don’t act l-like you remember every fight you’ve e-ever been in.”

Before Nightmare can retort, you cut in:

“It’s fine, even in the unlikely event it happens, it doesn’t seem to last that long. We can hold our own for those five or so seconds he’s out.”

“If it even happens. Which it w-won’t.”

Nightmare rolls is eye, but lets the matter go.

“Alright. Well, I suppose since we are already gathered, I might as well share some good news.”

“Oh? Let’s hear it, then.”

“I recently took stock of the emotional balance of the multiverse, and it has tipped ever so slightly in our favour. We may now slightly reduce our work, perhaps focus more on long-term plans.”

“Huh. The situation w-with the multiverse’s c-crowding is pretty good too. I t-think with Ink running around f-fighting us and working t-together with others, he has less time f-for making back-ups.”

You grin at them, eyes bright.

“That’s great! Since you’re not playing catchup, you’ll have more free time now, right?”

“That is correct.”

“Yeah.”

“We should all go on a date!”

…

You didn’t mean to say it like that.

Oh gods you didn’t mean to say it like that, you wanted to say like, a hangout? No that’s too childish, outing? But what’s it matter what you were going to say, you already said date and now Error and Nightmare are looking at you and not saying anything and you feel like your face is on fire, and you haven’t even talked about your feelings to them yet and you wanted to do it some time later than the Silverbell thing, and not just by dropping it on them! At the same time, even! You raise your hands to cover your face, but both of them get grabbed and held by Nightmare.

“Silverbell,” he starts, and the name coming from him gets you to blush even more, “while we should perhaps speak on this a bit more, I for one would love to go on a date with you.”

“I would-- I would t-too?” Error blurts, but seems to get confused partway through. You giggle a bit, to his embarrassment. “I d-don’t know if-- romantically? A romantic date? All t-three of us?”

“I mean, it’s- I hoped to bring it up a bit more… elegantly, I guess, and probably talk about it with the two of you individually, but... I like both of you- love, both of you, and our relationship doesn’t need to be romantic even if my feelings are. But if possible, I’d like both of you to be my partners.”

Nightmare seems to have gained a fond little quirk to his grin, while Error’s started to pace with his hand on his mouth in thought. He seems about as nervous as you feel, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse. He’s started muttering under his breath, and you hear “--h-have I been- -all this time--” but not much more.

“While our dear companion is figuring himself out,” Nightmare starts, drawing your attention back to him, “perhaps we should work out details for our coming date.” he just about purrs out the word, and you shiver a bit. He moves to an armchair, dragging you with him with your hands still intertwined, and takes a seat, dragging you with him to his lap. You shift a bit to get comfortable, and try to calm your racing soul.

“Didn’t you um, say we should talk about- about this more?” you stutter out.

“I am sure we can save a majority of the details for later. Would you be interested in a luxurious restaurant? No, that would likely be a tad stressful for you, not to mention Error’s… lack of etiquette. And the two of you stargaze rather often, so that wouldn’t be anything new. The theater, perhaps?”

“Why don’t we show each other interesting things we’ve seen around the multiverse? Like one or two locations each?”

“Interesting things?”

“Like something pretty, or weird, or new.”

“I can t-think of something like that,” Error says, seemingly done with his thinking.

“We can do something more civilized some other time, but I’m not really looking to go to any public spaces right now, even if we went somewhere we wouldn’t get recognized.”

“Hmm. I suppose I can think of something, and this will allow all of us to contribute.”

Nightmare strokes a hand across your back, and you resist manifesting your wings. You feel comfortable, but it would be too much. You’ve already given away two vulnerabilities in quick succession. You realize you’ve been awake for a while again, when your eyes start to close at the soothing motion. You hear Error’s strings, and crack an eye open to see that he has created a hammock in a corner of the room. A lone string moves through the air and ties itself around your ankle. You close your eyes again and bury your face in Nightmare’s chest. A few tentacles wrap around you, and you nod off.

“Right, so… who’s going first?” You lace your fingers together and look at the other two.

“I suppose I may start us off.”

Nightmare opens a portal, the dark watery surface shining with glints of cyan and purple. You step through to a Waterfall, though the colors are more purple and there’s a strange feeling in the air. It feels like the world around you is filled with melancholy and yearning with glimpses of hope. You follow Nightmare silently as he directs you to a patch of this world’s echo flowers, taking a seat near them but not quite touching.

“These are emotecho flowers. They share the usual quality of echoing, but rather than voices they echo emotions. Whoever touches one will have their emotions echoed to the next person who does, however if more than one person holds a flower, they will all feel each others’ emotions. While I am always capable of empathy, these would allow you to experience a version of it as well.”

He picks one of the flowers from the patch, and extends it to the middle of you three. You move your own hand to hold it, but just as you brush up against it, it withers. You look on as the vibrant purple fades into gray and the flower falls limp in Nightmare’s hold.

“Oh. Right. I guess that wouldn’t work.”

“Pfft, nice going, o-octopus. You forgot a pretty big i-issue, huh?” Error jeers.

“It’s fine! It was a nice thought, don’t worry,” you give a small smile, but it falls a bit short. You can’t believe you forgot about your own deathly touch like that.

Nightmare seems a bit frustrated with himself, but draws in a breath and shakes it off.

“My apologies. I had hoped to… be more open to you, and to share my own feelings without giving room for doubt that I was falsifying them. If you wish, I can share a limited empathy with you still, but you will have to trust me. Error and I may share a flower, should he wish it.”

You look at him in bafflement. He seems… almost insecure. You had almost believed he was incapable on being anything but confident in himself. You reach out and grab his hand.

“Well, that sounds good to me. Error?” You look to Error and his mocking smile twists a bit, before he rolls his eyes and grabs another flower, if a bit rougher than Nightmare had. You smile at them as he extends the flower to Nightmare.

“Just d-don’t touch me, ok?”

“Understood.”

When Nightmare establishes whatever connection that allows him to share his and Error’s emotions to you, you feel relief and a bit of embarrassment from him, and from Error… it’s a bit difficult to tell, overlayed with a mess of glitchy, conflicting emotions. You think maybe frustration and fondness. You watch them as you try your best to bring your love to the front. Error’s face flushes that lovely dark blue with yellow specks, and while Nightmare doesn’t blush, his tentacles curl pleasedly.

The care they send back is enough to paint your whole face silvery blue.

“Right, so this looks like a pretty normal Mertale, right? Well, it is for the most part, but one thing’s funny.” You point to the ocean. “The water’s magical. For some reason, when monsters enter the water here, it turns them into a mer form, and you might think that it’s something about the monsters that does that, but it’s actually the water. And that means that it can also work on monsters from outside of the universe. Of course, we’re strong enough that it’s more of a suggestion than a rule, but if you want to try being a mer for a bit and look around the nice reef that’s next to this island, we can!” You clap your hands at the end of your explanation, beaming at the other two. You came to this universe once to reap a soul lost in the sea, and found out quickly that the water was weird. You didn’t let it work its magic that first time, but came back another time in a fit of boredom to see what happened, and found yourself with a weird new lower half.

Nightmare’s looking at the ocean dubiously while Error’s grimacing a bit. You jump to reassure them.

“We can also not do that! I mean, I mostly just found it kind of interesting, but I’m not actually super attached to it or anything. We can just hang out on the beach, or move onto the next place.”

Nightmare at least should be able to tell you’re being genuine, and Error’s probably not going to go along with something he outright dislikes just for you, at least without arguing about it first.

“I kind of w-want to take a look at this p-place’s code, but let’s maybe h-hold off on the swimming.”

“Perhaps we can take the boys for a trip here, once Error looks through the code to learn whether it is safe.”

“I didn’t s-say that was what I was doing.”

“Surely it is not that difficult?”

“I also didn’t-t say I couldn’t do it-”

The next place you go to is Error’s suggestion. The glitchy portal takes you to the entrance of Ruins, the sun falling on a bed of crystalline flowers. You hesitantly grab one, and look at it as it stays unwilting in your hand. You place it in your inventory.

Error starts moving, and you follow him through The Ruins, looking at crystal grass and vines. The dead leaves on the ground don’t seem to be made of crystal, though. Soon, you find the first monster. Or what may have been a monster once, but now is only a crystal statue of a froggit. You can feel that it used to have life.

“What’s with this place?” you ask, as Error opens another portal that leads to the forests of Snowdin. The crystal trees tower over you, casting refracted light on the snow.

“It used to j-just be a regular Undertale copy, until it g-got corrupted. It was some kind of virus, creeping through the c-code and infecting everything living, b-but it was pretty slow and I was busy back t-then, so I kind of just kept an eye on it. Then one day, there was a burst of e-energy, and I came back to see… this. I think The Core wasn’t g-getting ice or maintenance because the virus made monsters a-act a bit erratic, and it overheated. And then that e-explosion crystallized the virus, and everything that was infected with it, no matter how f-far they were from the actual explosion. So now it’s like the place is full of crystal s-statues.”

The three of you move to Waterfall, and you add another flower to your new collection. Most of the area is darker than usual, because all the bioluminescent plantlife is dead, so there’s no light to refract. You suspect that the main highlights of this universe are the forest and the king’s garden. The monsters are a bit sad to look at. They aren’t alive anymore, but they didn’t really die, either. When you cleave a statue in half with your scythe, it shatters and falls into crystal dust on the floor, but you can feel that its state of being hasn’t really changed.

You’re keeping the flowers, though.

While you didn’t think it was interesting enough to be an attraction of its own, you bring your group to a place you find nice to look at after you’re done.

The three of you get seated on a blanket you brought, looking at the glittering water. The sea made of starlight peacefully laps at the black sand of the beach, leaving streaks of color in its wake.

“Well, there were some ups and downs, but I think that was nice overall.”

“My place was great though, wasn’t i-it?” Error asks eagerly, leaning over to look you in the eyes.

“Yeah… the flowers were great, but seeing monsters that were denied death like that was kinda depressing.”

“Good gods, Error, it’s like you cannot even tell how our dear Silverbell is feeling,” Nightmare mocks from your other side.

“Well at least I d-didn’t forget he can’t t-touch living things,” Error rebutes.

“Both of your ideas were good, just because there were shortfalls doesn’t mean it wasn’t nice. So! Maybe we should uh… talk. About the relationship.” You clear your throat and try to cast aside your nervousness.

“So, it’s fine that I want to court both of you, right? But is it just going to be me dating you two separately, or are we gonna keep doing this,” you gesture between the three of you, “or will you two… also..?” you trail off a bit, but they seem to have gotten the idea. They look at each other and seem to come to a similar conclusion.

“No w-way.” “Perhaps not quite yet.”

Error blinks at Nightmare disbelievingly.

“The relationship is still young,” Nightmare declares, tilting his head. Error scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we do not need to have every outing be with all of us. As long as we keep each other updated it would be good to spend some time separately.”

“We’re still g-gonna hang out in Outertale right? And I’m n-not gonna teach the octopus h-how to crochet.”

“Okay, so it’s gonna be pretty similar to how it’s been, just with more… romance stuff.”

Admittedly you have fairly limited experience with said romance stuff, but you figure the other two probably don’t have much either. Nightmare’s probably read some books about it, but that’s not really experience. You turn to Error.

“Hey, is it fine if I kiss Nightmare at some point, or do you want to get more acclimated to touch first so that we can do it too?”

Error’s voice turns into glitching stutters while Nightmare stifles a snort.

Chapter Text

Admittedly, the change in your relationships doesn’t change much. You’re just more open about your attraction, giving compliments where you can. Error joins in on praising himself confidently, but his face heats up so much he might combust. Nightmare listens to you with a silent grin, but curls his tentacles closer to you, or tightens his hold when holding you. You’ve noticed his eyelight’s shape wavering once or twice, as if it was attempting to change shape. They’ve learned that complimenting you back is a quick way to shut you up, so they’ll often hold off on it for a bit.

While you gained a tentative okay—you had to reassure Error for a while that your relationship with him is not in any way lesser just because you can’t make out with him sloppy style (okay well you didn’t say it like that)—for kissing Nightmare, you haven’t actually gone through with it yet, though the way your gaze has sometimes lingered consideringly on his mouth definitely hasn’t been subtle. You’re pretty sure he’s making a game out of making you ask first, since his smirk tends to slowly widen the longer you stare. Once, he licked his teeth to provoke you. In order to prove you’re not a coward, you clicked your teeth on his chin, and then promptly buried your blushing face in his hoodie. Your blushing was not at all helped by the rumbling chuckle that followed. You manifested your wings for just long enough to smack him lightly on the face.

Possibly related to the inevitable kissing, Error has been trying to expedite his attempts at getting used to touch.

On the front of fighting for The Balance, things have been going exceptionally well since you joined in on the battles. You’ve noticed that Dream seems to be getting increasingly stressed, though. Strange, given how Nightmare’s been reducing the amount of attacks he does. Though maybe it’s more stressful on the other side, since they have to always be ready to respond.

You’ve been getting good at corralling mortal opponents with your gravity magic, since you can’t really touch them with much else without killing them immediately. Most of the time you leave Ink and Dream to their counterparts, only stepping in if they gain the upper hand.

You’re about to follow your allies out of the broken city, when Dream’s voice stops you.

“Death, please. Why are you doing this? This isn’t your job, why would you choose to bring more misery into the world?” He sounds defeated and exhausted. He likely is, given the recent battle. You turn to him, looking at him standing still as his allies rush about, trying their best to mitigate the damage that has already been done.

“It’s not about the misery. It’s about The Balance. My position gives me an innate knowledge of where it’s tipping, and I knew that you would not stop before it went too far. For every universe you ‘help’, your brother has to hurt another. The pain of a few universes is of little matter to me when the safety of the whole is in question,” you speak, voice soft but unfeeling. You’re not as harsh as you could be, but you will show no doubt about your actions. You disappear from the universe before he can respond.

Truthfully, while The Balance had been in Positivity’s favour, it was not nearly enough to really warrant your interference. Still, you’d rather not admit that your choice is almost entirely based on emotional attachment.

“Hey, Mr. Reaper, Sir!” Comes a yell from Blue, from the area you’ve cornered most of the mortals. You’ve slashed lines across the ground that exude Death energy. It’s not fully lethal, but just harmful enough that they can’t tell the difference without trying their luck. The area is large enough that most of them are a fair distance away from you, with Blue being the only one foolish enough to come near you.

“It’s Death, to you,” you respond plainly.

“Mr. Death, Then. I’d Like To Clear Up A Misunderstanding! It Seems That You’ve Said Something To My Friend Dream That Upset Him Quite A Bit. I’m Sure You Didn’t Really Mean To Hurt His Feelings, So I’d Like To Hear From You What You Talked About To Clear Things Up!”

“I don’t really think we spoke enough for there to be misunderstandings. I simply told him that his work to help people only serves to destabilize the multiverse, forcing his brother to increase Negativity, in turn. Or that was the point I was making, anyhow.”

He stares at you nervously.

“Oh! So You… Implied That He’s Responsible For Nightmare’s Attacks?”

“I suppose I did do that.”

There’s a pause, as he seemingly waits for you to continue somehow. His grin tightens a bit.

“...Aren’t You Going To Take It Back?”

You stare at him impassively.

“No.”

Blue blinks up at you, then seemingly recovers from his nervousness as he snaps his fingers and chuckles a bit.

“Aha, I Get It. You Probably Feel Like You Have To Be Mean Because You’re On A Team With The Bad Guys! Well No Need, I See Right Through You! After All, You Haven’t Killed Any Of Us, _{Even Though It Would Probably Be Really Easy For You}, I Know There’s Good In You! You Don’t Have To Pretend To Be Bad!”

You continue staring at him silently, now mostly incredulously (though there isn’t really a change in how it looks). You decide to deliberately misinterpret his ridiculous words.

“At killing you guys?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t have to pretend to be bad at killing you?”

He startles, and starts shaking his head and waving his arms.

“Oh, No No No! You Don’t Have To Pretend To Be Evil! Heck, You Could Just- Just Come To Our Side! After Clearing Things Up With Dream, Of Course.”

You heave a sigh, and float a bit closer to him.

“Ok, look. I’m not pretending at anything. I’m just doing my job, and helping my allies do their jobs. What I said to Dream is the truth. You’re making presumptions on our morality, but our actions are vital to the wellbeing of the multiverse, whether you like it or not. Just because it’s not nice and all sunshine and rainbows doesn’t make it less necessary.”

You then swing your scythe, bringing it down just next to him, and look down at him from beneath the shadow of your hood.

“And the reason I haven’t killed anyone is just that it’d make things more difficult for us.”

Another corrupted universe. This one must’ve been around for a while, since the Balances are currently even enough that something like this shouldn’t happen, at least very fast. This universe is far enough into the outskirts—the area where the multiverse is slowly expanding—that it took a while to notice it, especially since the world is still stuck in Resets and thus you’re not being called by any lost souls.

This universe isn’t something you can fix. The Virus has integrated itself into the residents, and you would not be able to remove it without killing them as well. The human included. There’s no guarantee that a Reset occurring wouldn’t bring back some fragment of the Virus even if they could do so afterwards, so your best option really is the destruction of this universe. You don’t think you need to bother Error with it, though. You just need to tap into your core. Before now, you’ve mostly only dealt with corruption when you could stop it without permanent damage to the universe, but this one would have to be removed either way. You might at well try something out.

You wait until you can cease all your other projections, so that you can focus your power. Then you pull from that emptiness in your chest, the source of your power. You’ve found that while the majority of that power is inactive, your own magic siphons from it regularly. You just need to utilize more than usual. You reach, brushing up against your past self for a moment (you remember how to operate an air fryer. okay), before drawing the power of The End out. Your wings flicker into the material plane, and you push power into your scythe. An ominous black haze covers your surroundings, the temperature dropping to near absolute zero.

Finally, you strike the ground, a burst of silence emanating from the action, and force the universe around you—and only that universe—to End.

The world splits, then collapses into nothing. You are left floating in The Void before you portal away. You need to take a breather before you continue your rounds.

Error opted out of joining Nightmare on his latest attack, and you can hold your own against Ink well enough that you don’t need to bother him with it yet.

“Hey, Reaps!”

“What? Why are you calling me that?”

“Well, I heard Error calling you Reaper and I thought it was nicer to call you that than Death! So, I have a question, did you destroy a universe-” he checks his scarf “-three days ago? ‘Cuz it wasn’t Error, and honestly it didn’t really feel like anything at all, but then I was like: Oh yeah! Reaper’s magic feels like Nothing! So maybe it was him! So, was that you?”

You probably shouldn’t tell him the truth. Doing that was likely acting outside of your apparent purview, given that you’re just supposed to be a god of death.

“Nah. Maybe it just got too unstable and collapsed into the void. Lucky that it didn’t take any other universes with it, though,” you muse calmly. Ink stares at you for a bit, but eventually nods.

“Yeah, that makes sense. You shouldn’t have that kind of power anyway. Well, let’s get back to it!”

You fail to dodge the entirety of the wave of paint and get half of your face covered in pink.

“The Star Guards seem to have taken an interest in you recently.”

You look up from your book, lounging on the couch in Nightmare’s office.

“I guess they’re interested in the new variable.”

“All three of their major actors have spoken to you.”

“Well, Dream was wondering why I was taking part in this all, Blue was trying to get something that’d make Dream feel better, and Ink was trying to figure out if I was responsible for the recent end of a universe.”

Nightmare nods, then narrows his eye in thought.

“End, and not destruction?” he asks, tentacles flicking behind him in curiosity.

You hum, then mark your place on the book and close it. You’d like to trust him, but this is something you haven’t told anyone before. As far as everyone knows, you’re just a god of death. You look at your hands. You’ve been forgoing your gloves at the manor (and with Error) as of recent, wishing for more contact, and in doing so you’ve revealed the blackened tips of your fingers. Just another thing to set you apart from your brother.

“Silverbell?” Nightmare prompts, startling you out of your thoughts. You look at him.

“I can tell you, but you’ll have to keep a secret.”

He leans forward in his seat eagerly.

“Oh, I am more than capable.”

You suppose you should tell Error as well.

“So, you know how I’m Death? Well, it might be more accurate to call me End. Functionally, it’s nearly the same, but there is a difference in potential. A god of death would have limits, but The End… as long as I draw enough power, I can remove anything from existence. Killing a universe would be a huge task for Death, but to End it… it takes more effort to ensure that only that universe gets ended.”

“Wait, you d-destroyed a universe? Why?”

“Oh, it was corrupted to hell and I didn’t want to bother you about it.”

“Furthermore, Death often begets change. It is a transition from one state to the next. The End is not so kind, nothing remains of something I bring to its end. When I act as Death, I use the magic associated with the position. But otherwise, I use the power of The End. That universe I Ended… its code will not persist in any form, and the virus I eradicated with it is entirely gone.”

“Why haven’t y-you been doing that before?”

“My position as End is… not something I like to flaunt. I haven’t even told Respite or Life about it, beyond possibly hinting at it unintentionally. And it’s… it hasn’t been particularly necessary, so I haven’t felt like inviting more work upon myself.”

“Your touch. Is is an attribute of Death or of End?”

“I’m… not sure. My brother doesn’t spend much time with mortals, and our touch doesn’t affect plants in the godly realm. I’ve never asked him if he shares my problem.”

“So your brother is only Death?”

“Yep. I’m just the weird one. I can’t tell from just my experience which it is, because the two are basically intertwined. And killing something deliberately won’t give me answers since I’ll be choosing which one I use.”

Nightmare nods in understanding. He rests his head on a hand, and stares at you with a pleased smile. You tilt your head at him in question.

“I am glad that you were willing to disclose this to me. You are quite the fascinating individual.”

It sounds like it’s supposed to be a compliment, so you smile at him in return.

“Are you g-gonna be ending more universes n-now that you’ve done it once?”

Error sounds a bit eager, though he’s trying to hide it. You look up from the cat’s cradle in your hands to meet his eyes.

“Would you like me to?”

He makes several garbled noises, moving his gaze away from you. You wait patiently, swinging your legs idly.

“M-M-Maybe. I don’t n-need help but-- I guess it could b-be-- I mean the whole alliance thing h-has just meant d-distractions and stuff, it hasn’t exactly… helped. Me. With my job.” He tugs at the tangled mess the string in his hands had become during his flustering, refusing to look at you.

“Hey, I don’t mind. It’s not like my work’s particularly exciting on its own, I could use a side gig. Well, besides the one we already have.”

Error stays silent for a bit, sorting out his thread. Then he lightly nudges your foot with his.

“Just don’t w-work yourself to death,” he snickers.

“How could I, with such a beautiful wife?” you flirt, then float up a bit to lightly lean your head on his shoulder.

Error promptly heats up and his voice glitches as he flusters:

“W-W-WHa- WifE-E?!?? Y-Y-yoU-- I’m n-NOt--”

“Pretty bride,” you continue, face heating up too.

Error twitches, and you worry for a bit. Then he grabs your chin and tilts your head up, and then shoves his mouth into yours. And then-

He opens his mouth. And licks your teeth. With several tongues.

And as you’re experiencing a crash of your own, he lets go of you and portals out of the universe.

Leaving you alone on the cliff with a fully flushed face and saliva stained teeth. Frozen in place.

It tastes a bit like chocolate.

Chapter Text

Your peaceful slumber is interrupted as you snap awake, and instantly identify what woke you up: Nightmare’s aura just became near suffocatingly potent, clearly enraged and territorial in intent. It’s as you’re throwing on your clothes as you realize what is likely the cause for Nightmare’s rage: you feel Respite and Life within the realm this mansion resides in. While it’s near-impossible to find without Nightmare leading you to it, Respite could likely pinpoint your location through your connection as the two Deaths, and came here following that. What they were thinking showing up to another god’s domain uninvited, you don’t know.

You flicker across the manor towards the commotion, noting the trio of mortals looking out of the windows as you pass them by to move outside, finally taking in the situation. It hasn’t escalated into a battle, luckily, Nightmare likely recognizing both that the two gods before him are your family and that they outrank him. Still, he’s monstrous in appearance, looming over them and draped in shadows with only the pinprick of teal lighting the viscous ooze covering him, tentacles slithering around the two.

“What are you two doing here?” you question. You come to a stop at Nightmare’s side, showing him your support to hopefully soothe him. One of the massive tentacles drags across the ground to make a loose loop around your feet. Papyrus raises a brow at the display, and you give him a sheepish grin.

“Ah, yes. As we were attempting to explain to your ally, we are sorry for intruding like this, but we had no other way of contacting you. I’ll be brief: we have had to flee from Pantheontale, and have come to warn you as well.” Toriel answers, voice grave.

"Warn us of what?” Nightmare growls, his voice shaking the air around him. While he isn’t as powerful as you, this is still his domain, so it’s rather overpowering. And maybe a bit attractive.

“They want to erase Reaper.”

“WHAT?!” Nightmare roars, now shaking the ground and perhaps the very world around you. You clench your fists, trying to feel something other than resignation. You wouldn’t allow it to happen, of course, but you can’t feel surprised that it’s come to this.

“We tried to argue with The King’s idiocy, of course, but when he has made up his mind, there’s little we can do. Papyrus even…”

“I Told Them That I Was The One To Kill Science. I Don’t Know If They Didn’t Believe Me, Or If They No Longer Care, But… It Didn’t Work. Maybe It Just Made Them More Willing To Punish Us For Our Opposition.”

You suspect that Papyrus’ confession was likely taken as mockery, or as a desperate attempt to save you. You decide to focus more on the danger Tori and Paps must’ve been in than on the decision to attempt getting rid of you. It’s easier to get upset over it. You look over at Nightmare, who seems to be trying to calm himself down. One tentacle rises up, then slams into the nearby forest and crushes a few trees under it. Toriel winces a bit at the disrespect to plantlife, but doesn’t comment.

“So, did you only come here to inform us of this? Or do you wish to reside here, now that you cannot return to your universe?” He sound none too happy about the prospect.

The two wince and look at each other.

“While We Would Like Not To Impose, We Don’t Exactly Have Anywhere Else To Go For Now. But I Promise, We Will Help You In Any Way We Can In Return! I, For One, Am More Than Willing To Help With Food And Cleaning As A Guest!” Papyrus assures.

“I am willing to help where-ever I can, as well. If you have a garden, I can assist with that as well, along with…” she glances at the broken trees “fixing that.”

At his current size, Nightmare’s sigh of annoyance is likely audible all the way to inside the house. You can’t help but feel guilty for the situation. The reason for The King’s sudden focus on you is likely because…

“Did Dream ask Pantheontale’s gods for help against us?”

Toriel nods, confirming your suspicions.

“Yes, I suppose even a locked universe can be accessed by Ink, who was accompanying him. They first asked me for my help against you, but soon gained The King’s attention simply by being there. I hadn’t managed to convince them to reconsider before they met with him. What they told him… It was also enough to sway a majority of the other gods to support this.”

You grab at your skirt and look to the side. If you hadn’t been so overt, this wouldn’t have happened. All you’ve done is create issues, even when you tried to be careful and not kill anyone. Maybe you could’ve been kinder, or not lied about the ended universe and just explained yourself, or-

“Silverbell.”

Nightmare, now nearly his usual size, steps closer to you. He glances at your audience, both the two before you and the three looking through the window, then continues:

“I can feel your guilt. This isn’t your fault, no matter what. It was likely inevitable that something like this would happen sooner or later, ever since this alliance began. And that was my doing.” He glances at the other gods. “I can bear to accommodate Life and Respite, despite my... discontent. You have been an invaluable help to me, so it is no issue to repay that.”

The alliance was at least partially because of you as well. You guess that the part about you helping him is true, but you still don’t like that he has to deal with something that’s clearly making him uncomfortable.

Nightmare sighs and mutters something, before taking a hold of your hands and leaning down to look you in the face.

“Silverbell. It is fine. Please, believe me on that.”

You tighten your hold on his hands, and then hesitantly nod. He smiles at you, still a bit strained, but it’s enough to have you smiling back lightly.

“They should probably stay in one of the unused wings though, to give you space?” you suggest.

“Yes, that would be for the best.”

Toriel and Papyrus agree as well, it would be for the best to not upset their host any more. There’ll be a bit of cleaning to do, though.

“Oh, by the way,” Toriel mentions, “I have thought of a nickname for myself. I understand that you need to refer to me as Life outside of our universe for clarity, but I don’t want you to have to be so impersonal in-person. I think it rather matches your name, too."

"Matching Reaper? What, like Sower?" you ask.

"I'm not talking about that name, but rather the other one. I was thinking of going by Everbloom."

“Huh. Ok then, Evy.”

Everbloom snorts a bit. “Really, not even one full use?”

“Nah. Too much work,” you explain. You can have one (1) standard Sans trait.

“are we just the hotel for wayward gods now or somethin’?” Killer complains as you get back inside the manor.

You shrug. “Guess so. My bad for setting precedent.”

Dust is staring, and you follow his gaze to you and Nightmare’s still intertwined hands.

“when’d that happen?” he asks, probably not meaning when you started holding hands.

Nightmare sighs, but as your entourage of gods passes the trio, he mutters:

“Seven weeks ago. Do not ask more.”

You hear Killer’s despondent groan as the four of you move towards the unused wing of the manor.

“What a charming bunch,” Everbloom comments.

“I Suppose They Are Inadvertently Responsible For Reaper’s Recent Wellbeing. I’ll Be Sure To Show My Gratitude!”

“I hope you’ll be alright with cleaning the areas you wish to use on your own. There is also a secondary kitchen in this wing, though I suppose you’re also… welcome to dine with the rest of us. You will have to ask Horror about helping with the kitchen or the garden,” Nightmare narrows his eye, “Respect his wishes.”

“Of Course!” Respite guarantees.

“We do not intend to take anything we are not given. Now, where would we find the cleaning supplies?”

After giving them the necessary supplies, Nightmare pulls you aside. You move just far enough that you can’t hear Respite giving Everbloom a crash course on cleaning (yet another thing he’s learned from the souls of the recently deceased. Though you’re unsure if he’s ever applied whatever he’s learned…).

“I should go inform the others of the details of this… situation. Do you believe Life and Respite will behave acceptably?”

“Yeah. You don’t have to worry about that, at least. Maybe tell the boys to keep a distance from Respite until we figure out if he has a killing touch too, though.”

“Oh, you did not notice?”

You tilt your head.

“Respite was standing on the grass outside. It did not wilt under him. So it seems that it is not an issue, for him.”

That’s… good. You focus on the relief that he won’t have to walk on eggshells around mortals to bury your envy.

“Do you think we should see about making another place like this for them, in case they need to stay away from Pantheontale for longer? I can’t imagine sharing your domain with this many gods at once will be good for you.” Even though they’re now tentatively allowed, they’re still not welcomed.

“That would be ideal. Perhaps it’ll be easier than getting this slice of universe was, if Error is willing to cooperate. It can wait a few days, though.”

You float closer to Nightmare with your head level to his and hesitantly reach out your hands to hold his cheeks and caress under his eye with your thumb, before pressing your foreheads together. You feel his hands settle on your waist.

“Tell me if you need anything. I know you said that this was like a repayment for the help I’ve already given, but… it’d make me feel better, to help you however I can. Okay?”

He pulls you closer, and your hands slip off his face so that you can drape your arms over his shoulders instead. The movement also moves your face closer to his, and he tilts his head up to click your teeth together with his.

“Would you… like to go further?” he mutters, also hesitating.

You would, but you feel like maybe this isn’t the time. You still need to talk with Res and Evy about the details of what happened, and Nightmare needs to talk to-

“what is this, you guys’ first kiss? it’s so boring,” heckles Killer from across the hall. Of course they followed you. Or maybe they just got bored of waiting.

“hey, maybe this is what they’re into. they’re old, remember?” Dust argues, sounding like he’s trying to defend you two if you ignore what he’s actually saying.

Nightmare turns to glare at the interlopers, only getting a “sorry boss” from Horror, who didn’t even say anything in the first place. Killer only grins wider, while Dust gives an unapologetic shrug.

“I’ll go over to Res and Evy for a bit while you go talk to those three. I might as well get as many details about the situation as I can,” you say, separating from Nightmare, one of your hands lingering on his shoulder for a bit before you move too far away from him to keep it there.

“Right,” Nightmare grumbles before trudging over to his idiots.

You float into the room see Respite and Evergreen hunched over the vacuum cleaner. Respite turns to you as soon as you enter.

“Ah, Reaper! You Wouldn’t Happen To Know How To Operate This… Item?”

“Uh…” you give it a once-over to make sure you remember everything, “Well, the cord has to be attacked to the outlet,” you start. While the explanation is a bit clunky as you need to expand on some subjects, you manage to impart the general idea, though some technique might be lost on you.

They manage to rope you into the cleaning. You opt to just lift every piece of furniture into the air as you halfheartedly sweep the floor. While it’s great that Res got a hang of the vacuum and everything, you can’t really talk over the noise. When he moves over to another room, you can finally ask Everbloom:

“So, what exactly did Dream and Ink tell the pantheon that got them that worked up?”

She looks at you from where she’s wiping the windows, before turning back to her work.

“That you’ve allied yourself with two gods who seek to bring destruction and misery to as many worlds as possible, that those gods have convinced you to do so as well. And that you destroyed a universe, yourself. I believe that was what made The King most afraid: that you might choose to turn your scythe toward Pantheontale to erase it. We tried to convince the other gods that you would not do such a thing, but even the possibility was too much for them,” she bitterly explains.

“Do you know how they’re planning to do it?”

“No, I am afraid not. Truthfully, I think they’re on a fool’s errand. It is unlikely that anyone other than you and Respite can kill a god. But I suppose it’s good to be careful.”

You hum in thought.

“What was The King threatening you with, anyway?”

“He swore to seal our magic away for decades.”

“What? But that’d be-”

“Disasterous, yes. I am also unsure of what he was thinking, but he seemed set on it. So, we left.”

You mull over the situation. There’s still one thing that you want to know, for your brother’s sake.

“What was Love’s stance? Was he on you and Respite’s side?”

“I believe he skipped the meeting entirely. You know he tends to come and go as he pleases. I only hope that he won’t get a skewed idea of what happened, whoever he hears it from.”

Right. Ideally, it’ll be Knowledge telling him. She’s not as opposed to you as most gods, and tends to be fairly impartial when explaining things. Not counting that one play she’s obsessed with. Maybe he’ll make enough of a nuisance of himself that The King reconsiders his stance on punishing Respite and Everbloom, though you wouldn’t hold your breath.

You find Nightmare in the library, trying to read but clearly too in his thoughts to get anywhere. He looks up as soon as you enter.

“Hey. Could we go to your room?”

“What for?”

You float over to him, drape an arm across his shoulders, and look at him with half lidded eyes, though despite your confident movements a blush is already forming on your face.

“I just think we’ll be pretty unlikely to get interrupted there.”

His eyelight wavers, and he quickly but carefully puts the book away before rising from the armchair. He wraps an arm around your waist, then drags you with him through the shadows. The two of you end up in a dark room, seated on a bed with a dark purple bedspread.

You move from next to him to sit on his lap with your legs on either side of his, his arm still staying around your waist. He chuckles lightly.

“Not so shy anymore?”

“Well, didn’t you want to do more?” you ask, only half rhetorically. He grabs your face and brings it towards him.

“I certainly did.”

His eyelight does change shape this time, forming a heart.

Once you’re done sucking face and groping each other for half an hour and are instead in the cuddling phase, you also go off to find Error.

“Hey. Did y-you sleep for that long?”

“No, it was just a busy morning.”

Chapter Text

With manouvering around the new living situation and making plans of action taking forefront, Nightmare decides to take a break from attacking universes. Error still destroys a few universes that are getting a bit too close to others, but manages to fly under the radar too. 

Living with Res and Evy so close by is a bit strange after all these years of distance. Even after Error and Nightmare help them grab nice cottages for themselves, you end up seeing them every few days, now that you no longer have to worry about the stress of going near Pantheontale.

These frequent visits mean that you notice it as soon as it becomes evident. They are weakening. Being away from Pantheontale, either the universe itself or their worshippers, is causing them to become fatigued. Sleeping and eating seems to help, but only marginally. Their magic stores are much larger than any normal food could fill, after all. (“I bet you guys would absolutely shred any competition in an eating contest,” Killer commented once.)

They’re trying their best to not show it, but you can tell they’re afraid. This is uncharted territory, you’re the only god from Pantheontale that’s left it for extended periods of time, and you’ve never experienced anything like this. Perhaps it’s because you never really became an established god to the mortals, at least not one that was worshipped. Only a hushed tale about the sound of chiming bells coming for wicked souls. Most likely the reason has something to do with The End, though.

You hate the idea of going back there, especially with the gods’ hatred for you being recently rekindled, but you need to clean up your own mess. You can’t let your loved ones suffer just because you couldn’t stay in your lane.

You’re going to see The King.

You appear in The King’s throne room, barely acknowledging the other gods as you stare him down. You plant the end of your scythe on the floor and rest your arms atop it lazily, and your head on your arms.

“Death,” he sneers.

“Magic,” you respond. It’s more disrespectful than calling him King, but not familiar like Asgore.

Sure enough, he huffs in anger, air turning multicolored under his nostrils.

“How bold of you to show your face here, now of all times.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever cared much what your opinion of me is on any given day.” Maybe you should stop antagonizing him already, but you can’t really help yourself. You’re not about to grovel at his feet, at any rate.

He rises from his throne.

“Do you have reason to be here beyond bothering me with your lack of manners?”

“Certainly. I heard that you got quite upset about my brother and my counterpart disagreeing with your decision to erase me. You do realize that sealing away the magic of both Life and Death would send the universe, if not the multiverse, into stasis?” you question him allowing your incredulity to show.

“It would send the Mortal Realm into stasis. Us gods would remain unaffected.”

Your wings twitch. Is this guy for real? You knew that he was unreasonable, but you didn’t think he was this far gone. Did he get stupider over the centuries?

But focusing on him, you notice it. You may not have been around Magic for a long time, but you do know corruption. And you can recognize that something about him is off.

He’s corrupted. Sometime after you left, a Virus must’ve snuck into Pantheontale. Or maybe it had been here for longer, and just kept itself hidden away while you were still there. Either way, this is dangerous. You sweep your awareness over the room, and sure enough, all the gods here have at least a slight trace of corruption, though none as potent as Magic.

You’re unsure if you can negotiate with him now, but you’ll at least try.

“Asgore. Gods are tied to the mortal realm. If it goes into stasis, all the gods will wither. You will be cutting yourselves off from your domain.”

“You cannot trick me, foul thing. This is our domain, the mortals are merely leeches upon our generosity. Life and Death are completely worthless, when we are beings without neither,” he steps closer to you. “They will be the ones to wither outside of their domains, just as you should have ages ago.”

You grit your teeth as your aura flares and your wings manifest, sending a burst of silence across the room.

“You are a foolish ruler, living in nothing but lies made from your own delusions. Are you truly so far gone that you cannot see-”

A painful pull on your wings causes you to flinch, and in that moment Magic surges forward and closes something around your neck. A click rings out, and immediately you feel trapped. Your aura compresses inside you, and your other selves vanish from existence as you’re locked into your own body. The collar feels like searing heat around your throat, your vision starts to fade and all you hear is ringing. You’ve collapsed onto the ground. When you feel a large hand grab your head, you use the last of your strength to mutter a curse at Magic. Then another hand grabs your left wing, and you soon pass out from the burst of pain that radiates from there.

When you wake up, it’s a bit hard to appreciate that at least you’re still alive what with the collar around your neck feeling like it’s burning through bone. Furthermore, the pain of a broken wing also breaks through the haze of your fatigue. You’re on a vaguely soft surface, but beyond that you can’t tell where you are until you can wrestle your eyes open. For the first time in this life, the light in the room hurts to look at, so apparently your magic was protecting you from small stuff like that, too. Great.

Once you can squint your eyes open, it doesn’t really help with identifying your current location. Well, that’s untrue. You can tell that you’re definitely not in Pantheontale anymore because the room you’re in is pretty much just a grey box. No furniture as far as the eye can see, other than the bed you’re presumably on. The door on the other end of the room is thick metal, as if you had the ability to even get up in your current state.

You try to curl up and sleep.

The next time you wake up, the heat isn’t as unbearable. You’re still so tired that you can barely move your hand, but at least you’re in less pain.

Sleeping clearly isn’t helping with your fatigue, so you might as well stay awake, uncomfortable as it is. While your surroundings don’t give you many clues, there aren’t really many places you could be that Nightmare and Error wouldn’t have found you already, and you doubt that they’d take you to the Doodlesphere, much less that there would be a place like this there. So logically, you’re most likely in The Omega Timeline.

You wish you’d told the others about its location before. You just didn’t think something like this could happen, much less that you’d be the one getting nabbed. You just hadn’t wanted to take the risk of making such a huge change to the status quo.

You wonder how long it’ll take them to find you, much less reach you. Though you’d like to think they have enough power to get to you, even with Respite and Everbloom’s diminished states. That they haven’t found you yet likely means that the collar interferes with your connection to your brother.

A knock on the door catches your attention, and you look at it to see Dream entering.

“Hello, Death,” he greets, smiling weakly.

“Positivity,” you acknowledge, voice weak. He seems to grimace at the title.

“I came to talk to you, and to apologize,” he looks at your broken wing, “I didn’t ask them to break your wing. Honestly. I splinted it once we noticed, but I couldn’t heal it. It just… didn’t work. So, I’m very sorry about that.”

You know. One time early on in your fights you’d gotten a fracture on your wing and nothing Tori tried worked on it. Luckily you heal quickly.

Or you would, if your magic wasn’t suppressed.

All Dream gets in response to the apology is your continued silence, so he seems to decide to continue the conversation himself.

“I just don’t understand why you’ve sided with Nightmare, so I was hoping we could talk about what he’s told you that’s made you so willing to fight with him, and to think that there needs to be so much negativity in the multiverse. It’s completely okay if he’s manipulated you, it can happen to anyone! We can figure this out!”

You stare at him impassively for a long moment before responding.

“Manipulation, huh?” you huff out an exhausted laugh, “Look, I refused to join your club even before I’d had a conversation longer than one sentence with Nightmare. We’ve been opposed since the beginning.”

“But why?”

“Don’t you know about The Balance?”

“Of course I do! But… I just don’t see why it needs to be completely even. I know that there will always be negativity, but that’s not any reason for Nightmare to go around making people miserable on purpose.”

“Where did you even learn about The Balance to not think it needs to be even?”

“Well, Mother didn’t ever explain it too much, and Ink’s been pretty blasé about it, so it’s clearly not that exact. Where did you learn about it, then?”

You don’t have a particularly good answer to that. Telling him about The End isn’t an option.

“...I just know it.”

He raises a brow.

“Uhuh. Well, I guess we’re not getting anywhere with this conversation. I wanted to ask what Nightmare’s been planning, but I guess if you’re not gonna work with me here, I’d just be wasting my time.”

“Maybe I’d be more willing to work with you if you didn’t do… this,” you grumble, and your wings shiver. A twinge of pain goes through the injured one.

“Maybe I can get you something with more color here…” he looks around the drab cell, then turns to walk to the door.

“I’m still busy, but I’ll try to visit, even if you’re my enemy.”

You have another visitor, though this one’s an even less welcome sight than Dream was.

You never spent much time around Science. His stare unnerved you, looking through you like he was trying to dissect you with his eyes. Knowing what he tried to do to your brother, you suppose he was. But you can recognize a god, even greatly diminished. And the monster in front of you isn’t just a normal, curious Gaster.

His stare pierces into you familiarly. Your wings twitch, the uninjured one flaps once and remains slightly extended.

“Greetings, Death.”

“I’d say it’s good to see you alive and well, but that would be an outrageous lie, Science.”

He huffs out a frustrated breath.

“Oh please, while I truly appreciate the deference, we both know I no longer hold that title. My life may have begun anew, but your pathetic brother still stripped me of my godhood by slaying me.”

“Do not disrespect him,” you growl with your True voice, but fall into coughs as the collar around your neck flares up.

“I don’t believe you are in a position to make demands.”

You resist a flinch as he advances towards you. You’re too weak to move away.

“Why are you here, Gaster?” you rasp.

“Oh, the Omega Timeline is quite accommodating to scientists who are willing to help them with their recent… problem. They were perfectly content giving me a few moments to study you. Under surveillance, of course, but I am sure that they won’t mind if I am a bit rougher than usual. My home was lost to The Destroyer, after all.”

The grin he gives you has your wings shivering despite trying to stamp down any reactions.

“You know, I am surprised at how well that collar is holding you,” he continues, “by all means, it should struggle to hold a god of your position. I suppose I made a mistake in my past life, buying into all of your posturing.”

He reaches for your injured wing, and roughly yanks out a feather. You choke down on the noise that tries to release.

“You’re just a helpless little blackbird, aren’t you?”

He studies the feather, holding it up to the light. You blink at how it catches the light. Usually, your wings are vantablack, but now it’s reflecting light like normal feathers.

“Oh, and before I forget,” Gaster mutters, and you curl slightly into yourself as his attention returns to you.

He reaches a hand into his lab coat, and draws out… a flower. He then leans forward to touch your face with it, before moving the still living plant back to his pocket. Thinking of it, he grabbed you rather recklessly despite his mortality, and yet remained completely healthy. Perhaps the flower was to test whether your touch was still even the slightest bit harmful. And it seems that the answer to that is a resounding no.

“I couldn’t bring anything for blood draws today, but we’ll see about that next time. It’s rather disappointing that all of your magic needs to be suppressed, but I should be able to gain something of note, even with you like this.”

Then he leaves, just as abruptly as he arrived. Your wings shiver.

You suppose you could tell Dream about Gaster, and maybe he’d be opposed to you being hurt further while in captivity. But you’re already in an incredibly vulnerable position here, you’re not going to give these bastards more to work with. Anyone would be hurt if their injured wing got pulled at, but you’re not going to tell anyone that you’re-

That you’re scared.

As tired as you are, at least this time you can sit up when Dream comes in. He brought a chair with him this time.

“Are your eyesockets lighter than before?” he asks.

“What does that mean?” you ask back.

“Well, they were pitch black before, like no light ever got in them. But now they look more normal.”

Probably another effect of your connection to The End getting cut off. Like your wings. You glance at your hands, but don’t take your gloves off to check your fingers.

Dream squints at you.

“I can tell that you know what it’s about, aren’t you going to tell me? It can’t be that important, right?”

“Nah,” you say, and nothing more. He sighs.

“Okay. So, what’s your relationship with Nightmare and Error anyway? I mean I could tell that you were more than just allies before, but now…” he winces a bit, “they’re… not taking your disappearance well.”

You lean towards him a bit, eager for information on what’s happening outside.

“That got your attention, huh? Well, I’m not telling you any more unless you tell me about what your relationship with them is,” he crosses his arms with a slight smirk. It’s pretty similar to the one Nightmare wears at almost all times. Your heart aches. Dream’s expression twitches a bit, but he doesn’t back off.

You suppose there isn’t really any tactical advantage to keeping this information to yourself. You’re gonna go crazy if you can’t get at least some idea of what’s going on.

“We’re dating.”

“Oh. You and..?”

“Both of them. Now, what’s been happening?” you demand. If he backs out now, you’re not going to give him anything more.

Dream blinks in surprise, then looks a bit annoyed at the lack of elaboration, but finally concedes.

“Nightmare’s been demanding answers from me, and focusing more on fighting us than just making things worse for universes. Error’s been attacking universes more frequently, but hasn’t actually been destroying too many of them. They’re still ruined, but… it seems like he’s more set on drawing us out to fight him. We’ve lost some people.”

“Tragic, I’m sure,” you drawl, not feeling at all sympathetic. This whole situation was something you’d been hoping to avoid by not killing and making yourself into too much of a threat.

“Do you really not feel anything about people losing their lives over this?”

“Not really, no. People lose their lives every day over less significant things. At least those that are fighting chose to die.”

“Chose to- really? Ugh, I guess you really are made for them. I was stupid for thinking that you weren’t as bad just because you only started causing problems recently.”

He gets up and leaves. At least the folding chair adds something to the room.

Chapter Text

The door opens, and you rise up laboriously.

Gaster’s here again. At least you’re not going to get bored if someone visits you every day. Though you would probably prefer the silence to him. He’s carrying a clipboard this time.

“Today, I was planning on asking you some questions. Of course, I do not expect you to answer them, but perhaps if you do, I might decide to be… gentler. First, are you aware of why there are two Deaths?”

You’re unsure, but figure it has to do with your second position. That, however, is not something you would tell Gaster, no matter what he’s threatening. Making yourself more interesting would be counterproductive.

“I see,” he sighs, “I suppose it was foolish to believe you would even give me this much. Perhaps you will be more willing another time.” He glances at a corner of the room. Likely a camera. “Well, onto other matters.” The clipboard returns to his inventory, and instead he draws out a syringe. He moves towards you swiftly, and grabs your arm as you’re leaning back. He passes the needle to summoned hands as he pulls off your glove. You weakly flap your uninjured wing, hitting him, but he barely moves from it and all you accomplish is getting that wing pulled away by another summoned hand.

Gaster gives a curious hum at your black stained fingers, then rolls up your sleeve until your elbow is visible. You nervously look at the needle. It has to be strong enough to pierce through bone, but it’s still thin. Maybe you could break it. But with Gaster holding your wrist in a tight grip, you won’t be able to move your arm. But you can still move your body. The hand restraining your wing will likely pull on your feathers, but as long as you fall in its direction, the pull won’t be too severe.

You grit your teeth as the needle slides into your mana line. Before Gaster can pull back the piston you fall to the side, twisting your arm and snapping the needle. Gaster narrows his eyes and tsks in frustration.

“Must you be so difficult? It’s not as if you’re really accomplishing anything with this,” he says, pulling the needle tip out of your arm roughly and taking out another syringe. More summoned hands appear, this time restraining your whole body and pinning you to the bed. The contact is suffocating. This time, you’re unable to stop him as the chamber fills with dull greyish blue magic.

Gaster looks down at you.

“Really, you should be grateful to me.”

“Why?” you rasp, fighting to speak as clearly as you can.

“If I hadn’t spoken to The King, he would have killed you himself as soon as that collar clicked into place. Those idealistic fools do not know how to reason with him, but I knew how to convince him it was for the best to give you up.”

“And how was that?”

“Guaranteeing that you would suffer before your end. Reminding him of the enemies he would be making if you perished at his hand. It was not so difficult, but not methods one that prides himself on his ‘kindness’ would ever use.”

He studies the contents of the syringe before putting it away.

“I do wonder… From what I have seen, your magic takes a much darker color than this. Of course, it is currently suppressed, but that should not change its color beyond perhaps lowering its vibrancy. Unless… the power you use is not your magic. Tell me…” he twists the summoned hand that’s holding your wing, making you hiss. “Where does it come from, then? Surely you at least know that?”

It hurts, sure, but you know that he probably can’t seriously hurt you. He’s just posturing. So, you try your best to twist your expression into something smug, as you tell him:

“I don’t think that a mortal mind could understand.”

The pull on your wing is worth the enraged look on his face. Sadly, he regains his composure quickly, but at least he leaves after.

It’s hard to tell the days here, but it’s a while before you gain another visit. Your wing isn’t healing. Not like it should. It’s been days, the breaks should barely even be fractures anymore.

You try to set the feathers of the wing that Gaster grabbed last time back into place, but you can’t reach all of them. Your injured wing also feels like it’ll need to be preened as soon as the splint is off, though the pain from the breaks makes it difficult to notice the discomfort of feathers being out of place.

You hide your face in your arms to hide your blush as you imagine Error and Nightmare dragging their fingers through your feathers.

It’s been eight days since Silverbell just abruptly disappeared and Nightmare is already feeling like he’s nearing the end of his rope. Error has started destroying again, deciding that speaking is pointless and that making a point is more important. At least he delivered a good piece of leverage yesterday. Dream didn’t initially tell them anything, but his reactions to the accusations Nightmare threw out told enough. At least Silverbell isn’t gone.

Dream claims that if they stop fighting and surrender, Silverbell will be safe. As if. Their opponents would never let them go free. As much as Nightmare’s soul aches, he cannot take the easy way out. Silverbell’s freedom must be guaranteed.

Even weakened as she is, Everbloom is quite ferocious in battle. She leaves cities overrun with plants. He’d initially had doubts about whether she would fare well among death and destruction, but she’s been willing to cause a fair bit, herself. Most living beings harm or kill other living things to continue their existence, after all. Her healing has also been a welcome addition.

Respite has not found The Omega Timeline yet, and with his recent weakness limiting ability to split his presence, it is unclear whether he’ll be fast enough. And thus Nightmare has gone about gaining information and applying pressure another way.

But if intimidation tactics don’t start getting results soon, he might just join Error in bringing about the destruction of the multiverse.

You stop yourself from hunching down as Gaster strides in again. You’re already not in a great mood, having spent days with nothing but your own thoughts. You can’t stop your wings from moving down, though.

“Wonderful news, Death,” he smirks, “I have about twenty minutes without surveillance.”

You feel faint. You should talk, maybe it’ll stall him out. “That’s… great. How’d you uh- do that?”

“Well, I doubt you would understand the intricacies, but I have looped the camera. It is so helpful of you to spend most of your time lying in bed.” It’s not like you have anything else you can do. You kicked the folding chair once and just about fell over from exhaustion. Feeling around the collar also didn’t produce results.

“I guess I can… answer those questions of yours, this time,” you offer.

“Oh, you will. So, where does that power of yours come from?” He looms over you.

“It’s… um…” you hesitate, partly because you don’t really want to answer, and partly just to stall. It does however seem that Gaster is also keenly aware of his time limit, as he grabs your right wrist in a bruising grip.

“Well? I can always just start my other plans.”

“I draw power from… an outside source. I just have a connection to it.”

“And does the other Death also have this connection?”

As much as you’d like to give false information, you can’t make your brother a target. “No.”

“And what exactly is this outside source? Have you had it since your creation?”

You… suppose that The End isn’t that different from Death. It’s not like giving it a name will make him any more aware of what it is.

“It’s The End. And uh… yes.”

“How do you draw on it?”

“Just… with my magic.”

“But how?” He pulls your hand closer to him, and takes your glove off. You’d rather not find out what he has planned, but you can’t tell him. You don’t know the specifics, but it has something to do with your soul. There’s no telling what he’d do with you if he knew.

He can see you shutting down. “I see,” he says. He summons more hands to hold you still, then draws out a small knife.

“Oh, uh, what’s with the knife?” you ask nervously.

“Acquiring research material.”

Your attempts at moving away prove fruitless as he grabs your pinky, then brings the knife up to its lower joint.

“Won’t you like, get in trouble for this? I mean, even messing with the camera has got to be some sort of violation but dismembering a prisoner seems a bit much to just let you go on-” you cut off with a shriek as the blade cuts off half of your finger. You can’t move as Gaster keeps you still to wrap the wound, but you try to silence your sobs.

“No need to be dramatic. I am sure it will grow back if you ever regain your magic. And if you really do perish in that collar, it will hardly matter anyway. And as for trouble, who would you tell? Do you really know that they would not simply follow my example and do worse? You’re not particularly well liked, after all.”

He slips your glove back on and finally lets you go, and you bring your hand to your chest and push yourself as far from him as you can without crushing your wings against the wall. You stay silent.

“Really, there is only so much I can learn like this. I suppose the next course of action would be…” He looks at your chest consideringly, and it seems like your soul is in danger anyway.

Luckily for you, the door burst open as guards come in to take Gaster away. He goes with them calmly, only giving you once last glance before the door closes. You take an unneeded breath, and it doesn’t even make you feel better.

Error is g-going to tear t-this whole multiverse-e to sh-sh-shred-ds, Balance be damned-d.

A single knock precedes Dream bursting into your cell, looking haggard. He’s limping. At least you’re not the only one suffering.

“You- You’re all about The Balance, right? How do we stop Error and Nightmare? They’re just- they’re tearing every universe they step into to shreds!”

You blink lazily at him. Cut off from The End as you are, for once matters of The Balance don’t seem as important. You’ll probably feel differently as soon as you have your strength back, but for now you’ll enjoy the lack of worry on that front. “So now you care about balance. Well, I have an idea: let me go.”

“We can’t do that. If we did, everything we did would’ve been for nothing, and nothing would be holding them back. I promise, if we caught them, we wouldn’t do anything bad to them. Do you want the multiverse to end up in shambles?”

You gesture to your injured wing. “Yeah, I totally believe you there.”

“We didn’t do that! Just- please. They took Blue. I don’t- Ink’s not taking it seriously, but Nightmare’s been bragging about how they’ve been hurting him. You can’t be okay with that, can you?”

You blink at him, lounging languidly on your uncomfortable bed. Your partner is most likely bluffing, and Dream’s buying right into it. Good. His expression is falling further into despair, likely sensing your mild satisfaction, taking it to mean that you find the idea of Blue’s suffering amusing. You can either say nothing, or play into it. Anything else will either seem like a blatant lie or give away the game. Well, while it likely won’t help your situation any, you’ve been starved for any kind of enrichment here. Being in one place, trapped in a small cube while injured and weakened, it’s been barely short of torture. You twist your mouth into a satisfied smirk.

“It seems like keeping me away from them is doing nothing more than hurting you and everything you care about. The only advice I can give you is to just give up. Let me go, and maybe you’ll still be able to get your friend back in one piece. I promise I’ll do my best to get him home safely, even after your less than hospitable treatment of me.”

Dream puts his head in his hands.

“I can’t- it’s one life against countless-” “Not really. Given what you said about them tearing the multiverse to shreds, it sounds like my imprisonment is causing a lot more deaths than just Blue’s.”

He looks back up at you.

“So you understand that they’re causing disproportionate amounts of damage, right?”

“Right, because it’s not like my death has been called for. So they can certainly believe that I’m safe, huh? The longer this goes on, the less sure they can be that I’m even alive. They have no reason to trust you.”

“Just, why do you have to be so difficult!?” he yells, his aura crashing into you. Weakened as you are, it causes a wave of nausea and lightheadedness, making you slump sideways. You try to catch yourself, but your arms fail to carry you.

“I- I-” Dream stutters, and you look up at him backing off with his hands over his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-” “Just leave,” you interrupt, “If you really cared about hurting me, you’d let me go. So, I’d rather you didn’t lie to my face.”

Dream looks at you miserably, clenching his fist. He says nothing as he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

You bury your face into your arms, and try to imagine being anywhere but here.

Dream doesn’t think this was a good idea. Maybe he should just focus on stopping his counterpart, like Ink’s doing. But maybe if they just let Death go, things would go back to the way they were. Still bad, but at least it wouldn’t be catastrophic like it is now.

Death seemed genuine with his promise to help get Blue home safely.

Chapter Text

It seems that at least someone has had the realization that keeping you confined with absolutely no enrichment is harmful to you. Though the “How to draw anime” book accompanying the notebook and pencil is… a choice. You suppose if they’re letting Gaster get in here there’s probably other scientists with access as well.

Well, when in solitary confinement. Draw anime. And maybe doodle your boyfriends in the margins. At least the missing pinky isn’t messing with you too much, thought the pain certainly is.

You’ve also been feeling a dull pain recently, one that radiates across your whole body but centers around your soul. You think it’s hunger. Without being able to draw from The End, your magic has had nowhere to replenish itself from. You hope your time limit isn’t too soon, you’d rather not have to ask for food. It’d be embarrassing.

The page crinkles as you’re erasing. You clench your teeth to stop frustrated tears from building up. You’ve been starting to realize that the main reason you’ve ever been able to hide your expressions has been because you’ve never quite lost control. Nothing has really been a danger, and nothing has really mattered. Of course, that’s been changing lately, but it’s been positive. With Error and Nightmare around, you don’t have to have everything under control, even if you could. Social interactions are harder to engineer when you can’t just brute force it with pure intimidation, but it’s been alright because it turned out nicely anyway.

But now, nothing’s under control. Anything could be done to you, and you’d just have to take it. Anything could happen to those you care about, and you wouldn’t even know unless someone told you. And so here you are, trying not to cry over a wrinkled sketch.

How pathetic.

Killer’s having the time of his life! Totally! The boss has really been letting him cut loose, and by loose he means countless probably innocent people. Before, he was making sure that he “didn’t overdo it” and “left enough witnesses” but these last two weeks? Whoo, it has been a bloodbath! Or dustbath (Dust taking a bath? If only), Killer doesn’t discriminate. He kills all living beings without prejudice. Dust and Horror have been a bit weird around him lately, but really, what’s new? They just don’t get it. (No-one does. Even Killer’s not completely sure what’s wrong with him.) He hasn’t even gotten to see the hostage, which is so unfair.

Honestly though, why doesn’t anything nice ever last? Killer was expecting the “alliance” to fall through since day one, but not like this. He’d been more expecting Reaper to get cold feet or just straight up backstab them and then Error’d… he doesn’t know, laugh? Backstab them harder? They would deserve it, for falling for that bullshit, except it wasn’t bullshit and now everything’s shit for different reasons. Shit. At least if the truce had fallen through Killer would’ve gotten to give the boss a real smug “i told you so”, but now it’s just real sad boy hours featuring old King Tantrum. Nightmare’s been trying to keep himself together, but it’s kind of obvious that he’s not all there with how there’s barely any plan in his “scorched earth” approach to establishing how royally pissed off he is.

Killer might be making it worse, honestly. On top of trying to get their enemies to surrender and having to pull him and the others out of any universe that Error decides is dead meat, Nightmare’s also had to get him out of Stage 4 a few times. Nevermind that it’s kind of on him for occasionally allowing Stage 3, which, not a good sign. Pretty big red flag, actually. A red flag the shape of a glowing, wavering target.

So basically everything’s went to shit ever since that ditzy death vanished on them. Kind of an unexpected move from the captain of the cheer squad to take him, not to mention that Killer doesn’t even know how you can just. Kidnap the embodiment of death. But really, he’s not the expert on this stuff. He’s just the guy that stabs people with knives.

He kicks a pile of dust and chuckles, ignoring the way his friends teammates look at him. He’s fine.

The sketchbook is filled faster than you expect. It turns out that when you have literally nothing else to do, it only takes a few days to fill sixty pages with doodles. The fact that you’re pretty limited with only a pencil doesn’t help. The pages of the anime book are now looking pretty vandalisable.

The click of the lock causes you to tense up, shoving both books under the thin pillow. You didn’t think Dream would want to see you again, but then again doesn’t he usually knock-

That’s not Dream.

A grey cloak covers most of their body, but what you can see is mechanical. They advance towards you, and you move to get off the bed and maybe be able to evade them. A chuckle sounds from the machine, modulated but still recognizable as Gaster. You must’ve made a face, because the next chuckle is accompanied by words.

“My, what a terrified face. Does it really take so little to make Death afraid? You really are nothing without your magic. Without The End.”

You loath to make yourself more pathetic, but in this instance, you might have to yell for help. Unfortunately, Gaster must notice your intentions as a hand manifests right in front of you and grabs you by the mouth. More hands appear to roughly drag you out of the bed to Gaster’s feet, and you feel him grabbing at your wings and twisting rope around them, forcing them to fold together tightly. Try as you might, you cannot fight against him. It’s humiliating. It’s infuriating. Tears fall from your eyes, either from frustration or fear. For these last weeks you’ve been grasping at straws trying to make yourself seem unaffected, but your composure is now fully gone.

“Ah, the joys of technology. It would be much too risky to come back here, even secretly. But I do need to study you further. So, you’ll be coming with me to your new home.”

He hoists you over your shoulder, and you can’t twist out of the unyielding hold of the machine.

You need help. You want help.

And the door bursts open, Dream coming in with his bow. He doesn’t look like he’s doing great, but he quickly aims at your captor.

“Ah, right. The empath.”

“Let him go. You’re coming with me,” Dream orders, aim unwavering.

“Even if I were afraid of you harming this body, would you really shoot, knowing you might hit him?”

Dream hesitates, but narrows his eyes as he answers:

“Yes.”

Gaster doesn’t seem to buy it, as he takes a step forward.

Many things happen in quick succession.

First, Dream lets the arrow fly, aiming for the machine’s shoulder opposite of the arm holding you. At the same time, Gaster turns so that you are in the arrow’s path instead. Then, the arrow hits not you, but the collar, which tears open and deactivates with a shower of sparks. Last, in a moment where you have yet to leash the power that once again flows through you, everything in your general vicinity experiences an abrupt end. The very air around you is turned into Nothing, and suffice to say, the robot is completely obliterated. Once you can gather the power back into yourself, the cocoon of emptiness around you dissipates and creates and implosion, drawing everything in the room towards you. You are bowled over by Dream and the remains of the folding chair, though thankfully the bed was attached to the floor.

On the floor, you experience a miserable sort of clarity as the state of the multiverse becomes apparent to you.

It is absolutely Fucked.

High Negativity causing corruption and a lower density of universes than there should be means that there’s a pretty high ratio of corrupted universes. It’s nowhere near imminent End levels of bad, but you can feel that the energy you usually have to carefully coax out is almost eager for use.

Dream gets up from on top of you.

“Are you… alright?” He looks nervously at your neck. You grab at the remains of the collar and throw it at the wall. It’s a pretty weak throw, given that you’re still feeling drained, but it shatters nonetheless.

“Peachy.”

“REAPER!!” comes the sound of your brother, followed by a grunt of pain from Dream as he’s shoved into the wall. Respite holds him still with his scythe at his throat.

“Hey, ok, no need for that,” you intervene. “He helped me,” kind of unintentionally, “it’s fine. Let him go.”

Respite gives Dream a suspicious look, but as soon as he looks at you, he’s moving towards you and fretting over you. The bindings on your wings get torn off and he lifts your chin up to look at your neck, which is probably sporting some sort of wound from the collar, if not cuts from its destruction. Finally, he lifts you up effortlessly, making sure to mind your wings.

“I Will Be Taking My Brother Home. You Will Not Attempt To Stop Me, Or You Will Face Consequences.” Respite glares at Dream, and the temperature of the room lowers considerably. Dream lifts his hands in surrender.

“Right, right. Just um… Can you please… let Blue go? Safely?”

You smile at him lazily. “I kind of doubt he was in any real danger.”

“Indeed! We Have Been Very Good Hosts. Unlike Some People,” your brother adds, not letting up on his glaring.

“But Nightmare said…”

“Oh wow, he lied to you to get you to give me back to him. What a surprise. I would wager that he was probably planning on holding it over you that he’s better to his hostages, too.”

He winces in realization.

“Right. And can you call off the attacks..?”

“Well by this point The Balance is… not in a great spot. And the chaos was just to get me back, so… They’ll probably be taking a nice long break after this. And if they don’t, I’ll have to make them. Because again, wow The Balance is… not doing great. We might have to like, work with you guys or something. Though you’ll definitely need to listen to us for once, if we want that to work. First off, you should probably look for that Gaster and take him in.”

“That was a Gaster..? And isn’t he…”

“That wasn’t actually him, just some robot body he was puppeteering. He’s the only other person that’s been visiting me here. I um… don’t actually know what he’s called, or what universe he’s from, but he talked with The God King before my capture.”

“Oh, then I guess that would make him Exper. He was the main developer for…” he glances at the remains of the collar, “that. We figured that it would be fine for him to get whatever he needed from the gods, to make sure it worked.”

“You know, if he wasn’t the god of Science in a previous life, he would probably have been kicked out immediately, if not killed.”

Your brother startles and looks at you worriedly.

“Science Was Here? And He… ‘Visited’ You?” 

“We can… talk about that later. We should get going,” you tell Respite, childishly grabbing at his robe.

“If I see another one of those collars ever again, I’m Ending the Omega Timeline. You have been warned,” are your parting words, before Res steps through the portal he came in from.

The first thing Respite did as he stepped through the portal with you was hoist you up over his head and yell:

“I HAVE RETURNED WITH SILVERBELL!”

The second thing he did was cart you off to the medical room and plant you on a bed (Much more comfortable than the one you had in the box. Wait, you forgot your sketchbook there. Fuck.) to be looked over by Literally Everyone. Well, except Error, who wasn’t there yet. Nightmare, once made aware of your “can’t be healed by conventional means” thing, manages to chase everyone off, though they’re probably skulking in a nearby room. You plan on hiding the whole missing pinky situation until it heals back, but Nightmare immediately recognizes that you’re hiding something. He’s probably hyper-aware of your emotions right now, especially with him keeping some sort of physical contact with you at all times. Wonderful.

“Ok, so before I show you, I’m going to tell you that it’s not that bad. It’ll grow back, and it sucked when it happened but we’re definitely gonna get the guy back for it and you don’t need to worry about revenge just yet-” “Just get on with it.”

You reluctantly take off your glove to show your missing finger. Nightmare initially rears up in rage, but takes a deep breath and closes his eye to calm down. His tentacles tighten around you, and you try not to feel trapped. They loosen just as quickly.

“It’s… not that bad. It will heal,” he assures himself. 

“It should, yeah. Not like it’d be career ending even if it didn’t. The wing’s honestly worse.”

Reminding yourself of your wings, you wonder…

Error bursts into the room, flooding it with static.

“S-Sil-Silverb-be-ell?!” he shouts, voice reaching several unpleasant pitches.

“Present,” you answer.

He surges forward, pushing an irate Nightmare out of the way to stand in front of you to look you over.

“I was just taking care of him,” Nightmare complains.

“T-Then why i-i-is he still i-injured-d?”

“Because he can’t be healed. It will heal on its own in a few days.”

Error zeroes in on your missing pinky, and a screech of static pierces through the room.

“That’ll heal too, I’m fine.” You probably shouldn’t have added that last bit with how both of them look at you disbelievingly. Error opens a bar of chocolate and holds it in front of your face.

“Even i-if you c-can’t heal-l from it-it, you sh-hould eat-t.”

“Like, with you feeding me or do I-” He shoves the chocolate towards you and you quickly open your mouth so that it doesn’t just hit your teeth. Bit by bit, he feeds you the whole bar, eyes never wavering from you or blinking the whole time. Nightmare pinches his brow.

Once the chocolate is finished and Error has thrown the wrapper to places unknown you decide to just ask.

“Would you two… help preen my wing? And when the wrappings can be taken off the broken one, you could help with that one, too.” Getting your wings tied up had only made things worse, and you need your feathers sorted out now. And it would also just be nice.

“Yes. H-How can I-- What do y-you want me to--”

“I’ve read some books on the matter.”

You look at Nightmare questioningly.

“A lot of books,” he admits, looking to the side. Not what you were wondering, but ok.

Together, you teach Error. It helps that Nightmare also knows what to do, since you can’t see what they’re doing when they’re behind you. Because of how uniform your wings look thanks to the lack of shine, they need to spend nearly every moment touching your wing to tell where individual feathers are, and how they’re positioned. At first, you’re a bit tense with hands on your wing, but little by little you relax, until you’re only kept awake by the occasional need to pull out ruined feathers and sheer will. You’re not falling asleep now. You’ve been doing next to nothing but sleeping for the last three-ish weeks, you’re all sleeped out.

You hear Nightmare hum, and Error’s static match the hum’s pitch. You try to hum back, but instead you chirp. You blush and your wings fluff up, forcing them to pause.

“Ignore that.”

“And why would we do that, songbird?”

“It w-was cute.”

You put your head in your hands, even though they can’t see your blush from behind you.

“Get back to work,” you order.

“Bossy…”

“I apologise, but I must ask… How did you get captured?”

You cringe and feel shame well up. You can’t just not talk about it, but… yeah, it’s bad.

You haltingly explain how you went to Pantheontale, and that The King had apparently put aside his biases just enough to use a mortal-made device to seal away your powers (though a part of his willingness was likely some remaining goodwill for the former god of science) and hand you off to The Star Guards. You also mention the corruption, and that you will likely need to work with Dream and Ink to deal with that at some point, much to their dismay. You do your best to play off how helpless your imprisonment made you feel, though it’s probably not well enough.

As they stay silent behind you, your wings fold inwards bit by bit.

“I know that… it was my own fault. I was foolish, a-and arrogant, and just… didn’t even think that I was gonna actually be in danger. So…”

“That’s s-stupid. Who cares if you w-were arrogant, how were you supposed to k-know some shitty collar was gonna be able-e to take away your m-magic. You’re the god of D-Death. And The E-End.”

“On the contrary, it is important to recognize your shortcomings and past mistakes. From now on, you will not do something like this again. Whenever facing hostiles, you will have someone accompanying you.”

That seems like a bit much, but you can deal with it, for at least a good while. He’ll probably calm down about it eventually. Your wings slowly relax. Then there’s a knock on the door, and it opens to show Dust standing nervously in the doorway.

“uh, boss… killer’s unstable again. respite’s got him in air jail, but it’s still not great.”

Nightmare sighs and gets up from the bed reluctantly. He glances back at you.

“I’ll stay h-here. You go wrangle your f-feral cat.”

“Right. I will be back as soon as possible.”

Error gets back to brushing his fingers through your feathers. At this point, they’re just about all in alignment, but you’re not going to stop him.

“Why didn’t you a-ask us for help? Ask me f-for help?”

“I just… didn’t think I’d need any. Before I reached Pantheontale, I’d somehow fooled myself into thinking I could negotiate with them. Bringing outsiders into it would have made that harder. Though I suppose I really should have just brought you and intimidated them into backing down. You probably would’ve noticed the corruption sooner, too. And the collar wouldn’t have worked on you. But that’s all hindsight. So all I can really do is… say I’m sorry. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Error moves off the bed to circle around and sit next to you. You fold your wing closer to him. He takes a hold of your injured hand.

“It’s a small injury, compared to the kind of stuff you deal with all the time.”

“But it’s-- d-different. You w-weren’t fighting. It’s too c-clean for that-t.”

“No, I wasn’t. Still, I know that Gaster- Exper, I guess, isn’t gonna get away with it. We’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t have any more tricks up his sleeves.”

He curls his hand around yours, gentler than he’s ever been.

“And y-you’ll stay safe.”

“And I’ll stay safe.”