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“I can be your tool”.
Color never could quite understand what triggered certain responses from Killer.
One moment, everything was going great. They were outside, helping people, making memories, and experiencing things Killer never had a chance to do while stuck in captivity. It was a good day. And then, all of a sudden, Stage One disappeared and Stage Two felt compelled to run damage control. They offered him a casual smile and dished out promises that were as sweet as poison.
He could tell that his friend meant them sincerely as well.
Stage Two was always a tricky one to read, everything they said was measured. If something didn’t serve a purpose then they wouldn’t bring it up. And the only goal that was worth pursuing for them was whatever vague sense of control they could grasp. Sometimes even that was too far out of reach for them to bother with it.
And yet he could see the desperate want in their empty sockets, even if it was buried under several layers of self-imposed apathy. He detected the anticipation in their tone, the way their voice ever-so-slightly wavered on the last word, no matter how nonchalant they tried to act. It was as if they were trying to tempt Color as if they were trying to tie him down with promises someone more cruel and possessive would have considered irresistible. With suggestions they probably had no choice but to make once.
Whenever Killer got in that kind of mood, there was no clear right answer to his pleas.
Rejection had the chance to send him spiraling even further (and Color didn’t want a repeat of that time Killer tried to trick him into absorbing his soul for several days straight, insisting that it was the only way for him to ever be a part of something truly good and that it was worth it if it gave Color even just an ounce more of power. Insisting that it wasn’t what he wanted didn’t work as Killer thought he knew best) and accepting the offer would have been perceived as a betrayal of trust. He couldn’t just ignore his words either, it never worked. Every time Killer would just get more insistent, almost obsessive with it.
Color shifted himself away from Killer.
He wasn’t scared of his friend, not anymore.
There had been a time when he feared certain Stages, mainly Stage Three as he’d been warned about it, although, when he did eventually find out about Stage Four, he’d freaked out about that one as well. He was definitely still not properly equipped to deal with them, but he’d been slowly figuring stuff out. Stage Three rarely paid him any mind anymore, and he discovered at some point that Stage Four was far more willing to listen and not hurt itself or others when Color was wearing Chara’s old golden heart locket. He still didn’t know how to help Four out of the incredibly dehumanizing view it had of itself nor how to entirely stop its self-destructive behaviors, but he was sure they’d get there eventually.
No, his issue wasn’t fear, it was that Killer was yet again trying to sink them both, and he had to put a clear end to it before it could escalate any further.
Physical distance was a good first step, but he couldn’t just abandon his friend while he was teetering on the edge of a spiral. That would only end up confirming their unhealthy worldview that people only kept them around as long as they had a use and they would throw them away as soon as they were no longer needed.
Color needed to get to the bottom of what had triggered Killer this time.
He sat cross-legged in front of them and stared them down. “I want you to tell me what you need right now”. He tried his best not to make his words sound like an order. He’d spent enough time with the other skeleton to know that they wouldn’t say ‘no’ to any demand coming from him no matter how uncomfortable it made them. And he knew that Nightmare and Chara had both taken advantage of that in the past like the despicable individuals that they were. “I know you wouldn’t just propose something like that lightly” he added after a moment of silence.
Killer was looking at him with that usual cocky expression of theirs.
The lazy smile, the relaxed posture, and the knife they were twirling in their hand all painted a picture of calm nonchalance that was probably only mostly true. Stage Two truly wasn’t too emotional. They tried to logic their way out of most things, Color suspected that it was why they always took over when something bothered or confused the others a bit too much. They were the one in charge of keeping their understanding of the world unchallenged and of dealing with all the not-so-fun parting gifts of their abusers (things like the cPTSD they clearly suffered from, the depression that sometimes flared up, and the obsessive need for cleanliness).
It took a while for them to choose whether they were willing to share the truth or not, but Color didn’t mind waiting. Finally, Killer decided to speak. They roughly grabbed their own soul and shoved it closer to Color. The carelessness they handled themselves with had been a cause of concern for him for a while. He just wished they could be a bit kinder to themselves, but he knew there was still a long way to go and a lot of hard work to do for that to start happening.
“Chara left me with this. Nightmare marked me too, plenty of times. You haven’t yet. There is nothing tying me to you”. Color was about to reassure them that, just because he could, it didn’t mean that he would leave or even that he wanted to, but Killer surprised him by saying: “I could leave. You always go on about me being my own person, so I could leave. I could choose to wander off one day and never come back. It would be easy since I’m not your weapon, your possession, your pet, or whatever else I could be that isn’t just a ‘friend’. But it doesn’t have to be. I can be your tool”. Their voice was firm, their determination was audible in it. Color could almost see a hint of a white eye light shining in their left eye socket, the one that once would have been their magical eye.
The words remained hanging in the air for a few moments.
Color needed time to properly process them. He’d never been the best at reading between the lines and, while Killer was basically an open book for him, they were still a great actor and an even greater liar. What they said was hardly ever what they meant. Stage One was usually a bit more honest, but even he sometimes talked in circles if whatever he wanted to say was a bit too vulnerable for their comfort.
It was also the first time he’d ever heard any of the Stages mention the idea that they had the choice to leave or acknowledge that they were their own person. He never thought that the first to reach that conclusion would be Two, but it was a welcome surprise.
It was so good to finally hear them call themselves a person, even if it was just to mock Color and his constant insistence on that.
However, after a few moments of reflection, Color understood that what he considered a step in the right direction was also what was stressing Killer out so badly. This time, their issue wasn’t that they though he’d be the one leaving, it was that they finally accepted they themselves got a choice on the matter and they didn’t like it. They enjoyed feeling in control, but this must not have felt right to them. Maybe it was a step too far too soon, or maybe having the temptation there hanging in the air made them feel like one day they’d inevitably give in, whether they wanted to or not. Just like they did every other time in the past, they could see a way to ‘win the game’ they thought they were playing, but, for once, they didn’t want things to end and they didn’t know what to do about it.
They wouldn’t be able to choose for themselves if they were Color’s tool. They could just resign themselves to their fate, go back to scheming behind his back, and maybe figure out another exit at some point down the line. They probably would have been willing to put up with the hurt they’d feel if he accepted their offer and became nothing more than yet another owner in an already too-long list.
That wasn’t how Color worked, however.
It would never be.
From the very start, he’d set out to make sure that Killer could have what he wanted. Not what the players wanted, or what Chara whined about, or what Nightmare took by force. Only what he chose for himself, no matter what that was or how Color felt about it.
“I enjoy your company and I’d like it if you stuck around” he started. He noticed the way Killer’s smile twitched and the way he insistently ran one of his phalanges along the blade of his knife without pressing down on it hard enough to cut himself, but definitely getting a bit closer to it each time. His friend was tensing up, preparing for the worst-case scenario, Color had no idea whether in their mind that would be an agreement or a refusal. “But it should be easy for you to leave. You shouldn’t feel or be trapped by me. If you decide to stay, I’ll be happy. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. And if you want to come and go, I’ll always welcome you back with open arms. You will never be my tool, but you will always be my friend”.
Killer huffed, turning away from him.
“Everything you say is always so corny…” they mumbled. Despite their grumpy act, their shoulders untensed and their smile became a bit more genuine and a bit less manic.
Color chuckled. “You gave a whole speech offering yourself to me, and you call me the corny one?” he shot back teasingly.
Killer pushed him away, fake-pouting even more.
It wasn't the first time and it wouldn’t be the last that they had that kind of conversation, Color knew that. But he’d deal with whatever the future decided to bring them one step at a time. After all, the path to healing wasn’t linear and Color wasn’t an expert, he kinda had to make shit up as he went sometimes.
He was just happy that it usually worked with Killer.