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Despite what most of the inhabitants of the Omega Timeline seemed to think, getting Nightmare’s henchmen to ‘behave’ wasn’t the hardest part of the rehabilitation process.
Cross and Killer had always been worryingly obedient (Killer was a bit more willing to test limits and boundaries with Epic and Delta at least, but Color was still trying to figure out how to get him to understand that he didn’t need to earn a place by his side). Dust had never been violent for the sake of it, he rather despised hurting others and wouldn’t do it unless he was cornered into it. And Horror was incredibly easy to bribe with food (filling stuff like potatoes, rice, and noodles were his favorite). That in itself was cause for concern considering his past, but the Epic Sanses decided to leave it be for the time being as they had more urgent issues to tackle first.
No, the biggest hurdle Color and his friends had encountered a few weeks in had been getting them to relax.
Cross kept overworking himself to exhaustion. He often trained until either his bones started splintering and cracking from the effort, or his body gave out and he fainted. Sometimes, his bones breaking wasn’t enough to stop him.
Killer had taken to studying each member of the household and their needs. He moved silently, but if one observed him carefully they would have noticed that he was never still. He was constantly tending to other people's needs. Cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, etc. He only ever stopped to play small pranks on Delta (things like washing all of his white shirts with Epic’s purple hoodie so they would come out a different color or conveniently forgetting that he couldn’t stand spicy food when cooking. Things of that nature).
Dust had pretty much shut off entirely. He spent most of his time in one corner of his, Cross’, and Horror’s shared bedroom, rocking back and forth and mumbling to himself. And, sure, he wasn’t being active, but also he hadn’t properly been able to rest once since he got there. Color noticed that every time he managed to doze off it was as if something was waking him up again.
Horror was the most well-adjusted of them, and yet it was obvious that he was feeling caged in. He lashed out at the slightest provocation. Often doing so violently. He also refused to take any painkillers they’d offered him to help with his constant headaches and toothaches as he insisted he had no way to tell whether it was safe or poisonous since he hadn’t watched the pills getting made. Perhaps creating the medicine in front of him would have been an easy fix, but that wasn’t the field of science any of the Epic Sanses had specialized in.
They’d tried some of the more common activities like doing a movie night and then, a few days later, a game night, but they didn’t help much.
Killer and Horror struggled to pay attention for the whole length of the movie. And Cross got frustrated with any game he couldn’t master quickly as apparently, they all felt like going into battle unprepared to him.
They hadn’t managed to coax Dust out of his room for either.
With those ideas discarded, they found themselves stumped. They were doing their best to brainstorm some different ideas together, but, for a while, that got them nowhere.
“We could try video games?” Epic proposed uncertainly.
Delta shook his head. “It wouldn’t go over with Cross any better than the board games did”.
“What about cooking together?” Epic tried again.
“You know food is a major trigger for Horror. I think for now it’d be better not to risk it. Besides, I already don’t trust Killer around my food, it’s not like I’d trust anyone of the others any better” Delta shot it down yet again.
Epic groaned. “Bruh… I’m out of ideas”.
Silence fell between them.
Minutes ticked by with nothing but a cough from Color here and there when marrow started clogging his throat.
But then, finally, inspiration struck. “Wait… Horror does like agriculture and foraging though. He borrowed a couple of books from me about it not too long ago” Color pointed out. His friends gave him some curious looks which prompted him to continue. “What if we bring them out for a mushroom gathering trip? Foraging covers Horror’s interests and it’ll help him feel less cooped up. Cross can get some of his energy out in a less self-destructive way by running around in the woods. Killer can get something to satisfy his endless curiosity and maybe distract him from all the people pleasing he’s been doing”. Delta tried to intervene, probably to say that he was not, in fact, pleased with Killer’s behavior at all, but Color shushed him with a pointed look. “And Dust maybe will finally be able to get some proper rest, ‘cause it’s said that natural sounds help with that”.
Epic was quick to agree. He was up to trying pretty much anything by that point as long as it got Cross to start feeling better.
Delta, meanwhile, considered the idea carefully for a few moments. Eventually, though, he shrugged and nodded, not finding any reasonable objections to it.
With that, they were set.
---
It took around a week to organize the outing.
Color went out in search of the ideal mushroom-picking woods, while Delta and Epic procured some wooden baskets, some books to help them identify what they’d find, and one of those mushroom knives with a brush at the bottom of the hilt for each of them.
When the day finally arrived, Cross, Horror, and Killer had been easy enough to convince. Dust had categorically refused, only curling up tighter on himself when asked. Thankfully, Horror wasn’t having it that day. He picked Dust up and carried him toward the portal Color opened up for them ignoring his unhappy grumbling.
Usually, Color was firmly against forcing others into doing things against their will, but Dust’s lethargy had gotten to an alarming level weeks prior and he could accept that, in a case like that, force was necessary.
The woods Color had picked had a mix of vegetation. It was mid-autumn, so he knew that outside of them the weather must have been frigid, but under the trees, the temperature was pleasant enough. Maybe even a bit too warm. The ground was humid enough for mushrooms to prosper, but it wasn’t so wet that they’d be slipping on mud every other step. And, as far as he could tell, there were no excessively dangerous animals inhabiting it.
It was perfect.
Cross, Horror, Killer, and Dust were all handed a knife and a basket and told to copy what Delta, Epic, and Color did. Mostly Color, as he was the only one in the group with any prior experience whatsoever.
Color quickly found a long and relatively straight stick and started moving around the fallen leaves covering the ground. Mushrooms were tricky little buggers, they often hid from view. That was one of the reasons why he’d brought up that activity. It wasn’t something those four could rush if they wanted to do it well. It was something that required patience, observation, and a good deal of trial and error. The other reason was that he just liked being outside and found the feeling of dirt on his phalanges one of the most rewarding, but the others didn’t need to know that.
At first, they all stuck together, slowly gathering a few of their different finds. (Epic kept yelling ‘Boob!’ any time he saw a mushroom all because the first they spotted had been a macrolepiota mastoidea. It never failed to get both Cross and Killer giggling like idiots. It was a nice sight. It filled Color with fondness).
As the baskets started getting filled, Epic, Dust, and Horror split off from the rest of the group, and went to sit down in a nice grassy area to rest. Color had been elated when Epic messaged him that Dust was sound asleep for once, and Horror looked content.
His plan was working.
Cross had quickly become good at picking out certain mushrooms (mostly porcini, girolles, and Caesar’s mushrooms as they were the most distinctive in look) and had taken on the baskets of those who were resting determined to fill them all by the end of the day. Color was just happy to see his bones free of cracks. And he couldn’t wait to create some delicious platters with his finds. Porcini and Caesar’s mushrooms especially would have made for a great salad to start their evening with a bang.
Killer meanwhile, had adopted a more methodical approach. He studied every single mushroom he found with the help of one of the manuals they’d brought with them, often consulting Color if he was unsure about his deductions.
He was so focused on exploring and trying out as much stuff as he could that he didn’t even try to annoy Delta. And it wouldn’t have been difficult considering the fact that Delta had stuck with them and was also picking up whatever he already knew. (He wasn’t quite as fascinated by the non-edible mushrooms as Color and Killer were. Even the prettiest ones only got a ‘Huh’ out of him. But at least he was putting in an effort to offer them some company, and Color did appreciate that. He knew it wasn’t easy for him to hang around Killer, no matter how polite he was being that day).
They walked side by side, examining everything they found. Color even heard Killer muttering at some points, wondering quietly if one of those mushrooms or one of the many herbs they came across could help Horror.
He didn’t show it much (attachments were a vulnerability that Stage Two couldn’t afford, and they were a comfort that Stage One didn’t think he deserved), but he deeply cared for his three teammates. He wouldn’t be caught dead expressing as much verbally, but he showed it in his own little ways: by bringing food to Dust in his room and forcing him to eat so he wouldn’t dust away in his corner with nobody noticing, by bandaging Cross’ wounds after his training, and now, by trying to find something he could use as a pain killer that Horror could observe and trust.
Delta was quite taken aback by that revelation.
Maybe that’s why when they found a russola that they couldn’t determine without tasting, Delta trusted Killer when he said that it didn’t feel spicy to him. He mindlessly tore off a small chunk of the flesh of the mushroom and popped it into his mouth to try it and immediately regretted it.
Killer insisted that he truly couldn’t feel the spice, but his giggling made Color think otherwise. He knew what he was doing, and he was being a menace on purpose.
Mandatory prank aside, the trip ended up being quite a nice outing.
Color had been afraid that their house guests wouldn’t have seen any point in it, but that evening they all ate together for the first time since they arrived. Everyone looked happy. Everyone but Delta who kept looking at his food with great suspicion (Color had to switch plates with him, despite Killer’s loud protests, because Delta couldn’t otherwise be convinced that Killer hadn’t tampered with his food and his food only. He hadn’t. Delta’s food had been fine. But that was a problem for another day).
Dust even asked if they could go out again. He’d had the best nap of his life that day and he was eager for a repeat.
And Cross couldn’t stop bragging about being the best mushroom picker, to Delta’s and Killer’s dismay. Both of them had been hoping to impress Color, but they’d been so focused on challenging each other that they hadn’t noticed how far ahead Cross was with quantities compared to them. Color was almost hoping that would be enough for a momentary truce between them because he didn’t want to have to intervene, but he was starting to think that he would have no other choice.
All in all, it had been a successful first day of relaxation.