Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

To say that Error was tired would be an understatement. He had so many AUs that he needed to destroy! It seemed like more and more fell to corruption all across the multiverse. Keeping track of them was giving him a headache.

But something that always made him feel better was a distraction from his work. It always seemed like Nightmare’s gang was up to something, so that’s where he went. He hadn’t started out being friends with them, more like begrudging associates, but they’d won him over. Not that he’d say that out loud.

“The fuck are you guys doing?” Error asked.

“Watching Yugioh.” Killer responded. Error stared at the screen for a moment, utterly confused. “It’s an anime about a card game and Egyptian human magic.”

“Uh… right.” Error said. “I am going to pretend like I understood what you just said.”

“Don’t worry, I am still figuring that out too,” Cross said. “Do you want to join us?”

“I guess.” Error said.

Killer and Cross scooted over to give enough room for Error to sit down. The glitch did so, leaning back and covering his eye sockets. God, his head hurt so bad.

“Rough day?” Killer asked.

“You have no idea.” Error said. “Four different areas are starting to show signs of corruption.”

“Oh shit… Well… How about you just take out a whole bunch of AUs in the infected area?” It was impossible to tell where the infection spread, or even if the infected AU had time to leak into other AUs before Error got rid of it. So in theory, destroying the whole group would work, but…

“If I had to do that, it would take me hours and completely wear me out. If I survive that, I will be down for days, but most likely, Ink will think I’m trying to destroy the whole multiverse or something and try to kill me.” Error said. His voice glitched from the stress.

“This is a serious issue,” Cross said. “What if the infection spreads out of control? What if it hits the original timeline?”

“If it hits the original timeline, our whole existence will cease to be.” Error said calmly. He’d already come to accept that fact, but based on the horrified look Cross gave him, he hadn’t even considered it a possibility. Killer also looked a little disturbed. Which was understandable in hindsight.

Cross’s jaw was practically on the floor. “And Ink is just ok with this? Why isn’t he doing anything?”

Error shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s some crazy plan he has or something. Honestly, though, that’s giving him too much credit, he probably just forgot or something.” He said.

Ink must know about AUs randomly glitching out, eventually collapsing into the void, but not before infecting nearby ones. I mean, he’s the goddamn creator. Or he just works for the creators? Or he is the protector or something? Error never paid attention to what Ink called himself. Regardless, he’d been messing with AUs since before Error’s creation. How could he not know?

“Fuck… And we just… can’t do anything?” Cross asked. They tried before to help Error destroy AUs and they almost didn’t get out in time. After that, Nightmare banned them from tagging along with Error’s job.

“Not really.” Error sighed. “I just… need to stay on top of it. Keep watching the AUs.”

Killer finally sat up. “We can still do something.” He said. Error gave him a confused look. “We can keep your self-destructive ass from working yourself to death.”

“I am not self-destructive.” Error said, pouting. Killer gave him an incredulous look.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“You were there! Last night. Remember?” Error scoffed.

“See!” Killer shouted. “You haven’t eaten all day!”

“And?”

“People usually eat three times per day,” Cross explained. Error blinked slowly in confusion.

“Oh.”

Damn, these people and their rules and shit. How was Error supposed to know he was expected to eat three times per day? He pouted the entire time Killer was getting him food.

He was sitting at the table with Cross sitting next to him as Killer cooked. “You’d better not let Horror hear that you don’t eat three meals a day,” Killer warned. “You’ll be bombarded daily if he ever found out.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Error grumbled. He sighed. “When am I even going to find that time to eat that much?”

“That’s what friends are for,” Killer said. “We’ll remind you any time you are free enough to come see us.”

Error sighed and dropped his forehead against the table. Self-care sounded exhausting. What next were they going to demand of Error?

“When was the last time you showered? Or cleaned those clothes? Or… slept?” Cross asked.

“Fuck me!” Error shouted, throwing his arms in the air before slumping against the chair.

“I mean, if you insist,” Killer said. Error glared at him which made Killer laugh. “Kidding! Unless?”

“Pay attention to the fucking stove.”

Despite what Error says, he loved these guys. While self-care sounded miserable and time-consuming, Error appreciated the fact they cared so much about his wellbeing. Killer called him a friend. A friend! Error was over the moon with joy. Internally.

Killer wasn’t the most skilled cook in the world, but Error wasn’t complaining. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he took a bite. After that, he basically demolished his food.

“When you are done, you should take a shower,” Cross said. “You can borrow some of my clothes if you want while your clothes get cleaned.”

“Oh yeah, because you are both freakishly tall,” Killer said. Cross laughed.

“Sounds to me like someone is mad they are four foot nothing.” Cross teased.

“I am NOT four foot nothing. And technically, I am the average height for a Sans so you two are the problem here.” Killer said.

“Hmm… Sounds like someone is coping to me.” Error said. Cross laughed with him.

“This is bullying,” Killer said, unseriously.

“You know we love you,” Cross said, smiling. “We are only teasing.”

“Of course, I know that.” Killer huffed, his face went warm in embarrassment from Cross’s first statement. He looked over at Error. “Are you done eating?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Error said. Killer pointed to a door at the far side of the kitchen.

“That’s the bathroom. Just throw your clothes out the door and I’ll get them clean.” Killer said.

Error nodded. He went into the bathroom, barely knowing what to even expect, and was met with a pretty nice bathroom. The walls and floor were nice beige tiles, the curtains were a pretty gray color. The whole mansion had the vibe of an old haunted hotel, so he expected as much. But the rug was blue and stripped, the shower curtains were white with pretty blue roses, and there was a brown wicker towel rack sporting towels of multiple colors. A crack in the tile peeked out from under the rug.

This mansion was really old, Error knew that the others tried to hide cracks and scratches in the floor and peeling wallpaper with rugs and paintings. That’s why sometimes the house felt mismatched, with creepy wallpaper and an abandoned hotel vibe with bright rugs and modern paintings.

A little awkwardly, Error undressed. He glanced at the curtains to make sure they covered the windows, despite the fact it truly didn’t matter because no one else lived in this AU, and gathered his clothes in his arms. He opened the door just a crack and tossed them out.

How long had it been since he took a bath? Error wasn’t even sure. He never had time for that. He didn’t even have time now! Error shouldn’t be here, he should be out working, but he didn’t think he’d be able to without Killer and Cross getting upset.

With a sigh, he got into the bathtub. After struggling for a few minutes to figure out how the water started, he got warm water to pour from the tap. He just tried to enjoy the bath and not think about all the work he could be missing out on.

When he first started destroying, it was because he was angry. The world was forced to take his anger and destruction to make himself feel better. But after several long centuries of destruction, Error realized that he couldn’t remember what upset him in the first place. That thought was horrifying, it made him sick to the stomach. He spent every second of every day obsessing over the thing that made him upset, but now he didn’t remember what it was. He tried for months to remember but ultimately gave up when he realized the memories were too far gone.

After that, his destruction tapered off a bit. He felt obliged to continue because he was too deep to just give up, but now lacking the fire he once had, he only destroyed an AU once or twice every other month. And that’s when he noticed it.

The corruption, the glitching, the infection. AUs began freaking out, tearing itself apart but not before infecting those around it. He hadn’t noticed because he destroyed AUs he felt drawn to, which later he realized were AUs that were showing signs of corruption, and he destroyed every AU that had that odd magnetic pull to him. He destroyed so much and so frequently that AUs didn’t have time to visibly show their corruption, and at that pace, it didn’t spread nearly as much. But when he slowed down, the infection spread out of his control.

What was once fun was now a chore. Now he stressed over it every second he was awake. Which was more often than not.

When Error was cleaned up, he got out of the bath and started drying off. Shortly after that, there was a knock on the door. Error wrapped himself in the towel and opened the bathroom door.

“Here you go,” Cross said, handing him some clothes. “Killer threw your old ones in the washing machine already.”

“Thanks.” Error said. He took the clothes and closed the door, getting dressed. But he could still hear Cross’s voice through the door.

“Maybe you should take a nap. They should be done by the time you wake up.”

“I can’t. I already spent enough time here, I need to get back to work.” Error said. Cross sighed.

“You can’t do anything if you pass out while working,” Cross said.

“I guess…” Error said, pulling the shirt down. “But if I just lay around, the infection will spread even more.”

“How quickly does it spread?”

“It’s not really consistent. Sometimes it takes a few hours, sometimes it takes months.” Error said. “The majority of the time though, it takes three or four days.”

Cross was quiet for a moment. “A short nap couldn’t hurt. It’ll mean you can work more efficiently.”

“Do I have a choice?” Error sighed.

“Nope!” Killer shouted from somewhere further in the kitchen.

Error sighed again and opened the bathroom door. Now fed, clean, and dressed, he was escorted to Cross’s bedroom. He scowled the whole time, lamenting all the time he’d lose while asleep.

“You can use Cross’s room. We have a spare room, but it’s full of all kinds of junk because we use it as storage.” Killer said. “Hope you don’t mind it.”

“Whatever.” Error grumbled. “Don’t let me sleep longer than a few hours.”

“Got it. Just get a little sleep.” Killer said, opening the door for Error.

The room was very simple and monochrome, exactly what Error expected, but there were a few things with pops of color. A white flower pot with rainbow flowers painted on it, and a creepy doll lying on the desk. He made a face when he saw the doll which Killer must’ve seen because he explained.

“Birthday gifts.” He explained plainly. “I forget who gave him the doll, I think it was Horror, but I painted that flower pot for him.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you could paint stuff.”

“I am very shit at it, but yeah. I would be better if I had more time to practice.” Killer said, then he sighed. “Well, in another life I suppose.”

“Yeah… well… goodnight I guess.”

“Night, Error.”

Killer closed the door, leaving Error alone. He sat down on the bed, staring at the walls and sparse decorations of the room. And then, he smiled a little. It felt nice to be cared for. Foreign and strange, but nice.

He laid down and awkwardly slipped under the blankets. A small nap couldn’t hurt. Right?

-

He could tell Ink was getting frustrated. Usually, he didn’t outright try to hurt Error, but now more often than not Error walked away from fights injured. Error had never been in this much pain and misery before.

Only when he was sure he had time did he go to see the others. Otherwise, he was working. Destroying, observing, and killing. He couldn’t even tell you the last time he sat down. This time though, he was being slowed down by his injuries which only pushed him to work harder. Error was just starting to get the infection under control, he wasn’t going to let a couple of little injuries get to him.

Error’s wrist burned. Ink accidentally used the paint that burns like acid as a rope to catch his wrist. Or maybe it was on purpose. It was hard to tell anymore. He’d broken his leg from landing awkwardly, and still, he kept trying to catch up on work. But eventually, he got hurt pretty badly. His face was cracked like a damn egg, but Error found himself unable to remember if Ink did that to him or if some random person had gotten a lucky shot on him.

That last injury was inevitably what put him out of commission. After an hour of trying to figure out some way to continue working, he caved in and called Nightmare.

“Yes?” He said.

“Hey… I uh… I need you to pick me up.” Error said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I-I can’t see anything.”

“What do you mean you can’t see anything?” Nightmare asked.

“I-I mean I can, but there’s a lot of blood in my eyes and it’s difficult to…” Error trailed off. He felt worse by the second.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Nightmare huffed. “Just wait there, don’t move.”

“Alright.”

He hung up and sighed. Error wiped blood from his eye sockets again, lamenting all the progress he just struggled to gain now being erased. He was pretty sure there was some Greek myth like this that Nightmare told him about, but his head was too scrambled to remember which one.

Error blinked down at the ground and realized he could barely see even though the blood was cleared from his eye sockets. He felt dread build up. It was like TV static was in his eyelights, shifting in position and opacity. Sometimes the not-quite-static was so intense he was completely blind, but sometimes it faded so he could see the bloody grass under him.

“Fucking hell.” He heard Nightmare say. Error blinked and looked up. When did Nightmare get here? “The hell happened to you?”

“Huh? Oh… I uh… Long story.”

“I bet. Come on, get up.” He said. He held his hand out for Error to take. Error, under any other circumstance, would’ve refused help. But as it was now, his head was getting lighter and lighter and he needed some assistance to stand up.

Once Error grabbed his hand and was pulled onto his feet, his entire world shifted and intense dizziness hit him hard enough to send him collapsing against Nightmare. He didn’t remember much after that. He remembered sitting on something soft, crying because Nightmare was touching his face and he couldn’t understand why at the time, and he remembered pain.

Only when he woke up again did his mind slowly start to process things. And then he felt embarrassed. Crying in front of Nightmare like that for something so stupid…

He felt no pain, sort of detached and floaty. The bed or whatever was under him was very soft. Very slowly, Error realized how dark it was in here.

“Hey, Error.” Someone called. He tipped his head in their direction. Was that Killer? “Good to see you awake. Had us all scared for a while there.”

“Why is it so dark?”

“It’s not, your face is bandaged,” Killer said. Error lifted his undamaged arm to touch the bandages. “Don’t take them off. Your eyes need time to heal.”

“Oh…” Error mumbled. He heard Killer laugh.

“What does the boss have you on? Whatever meds you're on must be strong as shit.” Error whined childishly. “You’re lucky that Nightmare got there when he did.”

“How long have I been out?”

“About four hours,” Killer said.

“Oh… I need to get back to working.” Error said, trying to sit up. His arm stung with pain the second he pushed himself up.

“No, no! Lay down.” He said. Killer’s blue magic grabbed his soul and pushed him back down to the bed. “You need to rest.”

“I can’t…” Error whined. “I can’t, I gotta… I uh…”

He tried one more time to sit up, but he couldn’t. He was too weak like this and Killer’s magic was too strong. Under any other circumstance, he would be able to stand up regardless, but right now Error just couldn’t.

“What am I gonna do?” Error mumbled. “I can’t just lay here or we could all die.”

“I don’t know…” Killer said. “But we’ll find some way to keep it in check while you heal.”

Error groaned and closed his eye sockets. Not that it mattered. “I am so tired.” Killer’s magic released him, but Error didn’t try to sit up again.

“Then get some sleep. Everything is going to be alright, we’ll figure this shit out.” Killer said.

“Ok…” Error mumbled. He was too tired to argue any further and instead let himself fall back asleep.

Error couldn’t remember the last time he slept this long. He woke up a few times, but always went back to sleep. For those couple of hours, he forgot all about his work and the stress of everything.

What would he do without these people? He’d probably be in his Anti-Void right now, in pain and blind. Error never had friends before, at least not that he could remember. It felt so good to know that there were people who were always there for you. He’d do anything for them, no matter what pain he had to go through to make sure they lived another day, he’d do it.

Now that he had to just lay around healing, he felt a little useless. Error felt like he should be doing something, anything, to help. But while blind, he’d be more of a hindrance than a help.

When he woke up again, he did so because someone was knocking on the doorframe. He groaned, his painkillers must be wearing off because now he could feel a dull throbbing pain in his injuries. His face and head hurt the worst.

“Are you awake?” Someone said, their voice was soft enough to not hurt his head worse than it already was.

“Mhm…” He hummed. “Horror? That you?”

“Yes, it’s me.” Horror said. “You missed breakfast, but I can bring you some food if you want.”

“Breakfast? How long have I been asleep?”

It was quiet for a moment. “Unimportant.” He says. Error sighed in frustration. “Are you hungry?”

“I guess. I-I think my painkillers are wearing off.” Error said. He heard Horror shift closer to him and sigh.

“Yes, I know. The boss needs to talk with you before he gives you more medicine. And before that, you need to eat.” Horror said. Error sighs again and concedes. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Favorite food? Um… I don’t know. I like anything with chocolate, but I never explored food before. No time.” Then, Horror stands up.

“No time like the present. I will make you something nice.” He says.

“Ok. Be quick.” Error muttered the last part. He didn’t want to be alone for too long.

“I will. I’ll also send the boss in to talk to you.”

That was good. He didn’t want to be blind and alone with nothing to do. He heard the door open and shut.

Where was he? Blindly, he reached as far as he could left then right to try and get a sense of how big the bed was. He didn’t want to roll off. It was a decently sized bed, someone else could be in bed with him. Not that he wanted that. His hand bumped a nightstand next to him and running his hand along the top revealed several small metal things and some tall metal thing he slowly realized was a lamp.

The room smelled pretty nice. It smelled… old. But so did most of the castle. Aside from that, he could smell metal and something like wet cement.

That might not sound like the nicest smell, but Error liked the smell of wet cement. And the smell of the old wallpaper this castle always emitted became a source of comfort for him. When he was here, he was safe.

He looked up when the door opened. “Error. How are you doing?” Nightmare asked.

“In a little pain, but otherwise I am fine.” Error said. Suddenly, memories started slowly coming back. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened when you found me. I uh… I am sorry for crying though. That’s embarrassing…”

“It’s alright.” Nightmare said, sitting next to Error. “Anyone would do the same, you were pretty messed up.”

“Yeah… Uh… How long do I need to keep these bandages on my eyes?”

“Um… a couple of weeks at least.” Nightmare said.

“Weeks?! I can’t be out of commission for that long.”

“Which is exactly why I’m here right now.” Nightmare said. “We need to figure out what to do. How do you normally go about destroying an AU?”

“Oh… Well… I usually kill everyone in the AU first because if I destroy the AU without killing everyone, they fall into the void. It’s much crueler to let the void take them.” Error said. “After that, it’s simple. I just open up the code of the AU and touch it. I used to have to physically destroy the code, but I got so good that touching it will cause the code to fall apart and eventually disappear.”

“Ah… Well… The first part won’t be an issue for my boys. But…” He paused, thinking deeply.

“Yeah… That last part will be kind of hard for you to do.”

It was quiet again. He could imagine the look on Nightmare’s face. It was always an expression of deep concentration, his face gets all scrunched up in the most adorable way as he thinks.

“My boys can take care of the first half and protect you long enough for you to destroy the code. If… If you feel well enough to stand. It should only be for a couple of minutes if that.” Nightmare said.

“Yeah, I could do that. Might be difficult while blind, but I can.” Error said. His leg ached, crying from the mention of standing, but it was ok. He’s had worse. For the sake of the universe, he could stand for a minute or two. How selfish would it be to not push through a little pain?

“It’s the only option we have.” Nightmare sighed. “I’d offer to carry you, but I know you don’t like touching.”

Error was quiet for a moment. Getting carried was embarrassing and the idea of touching made his metaphorical skin crawl, but it wouldn’t hurt. He let out the breath he was holding slowly.

“Y-… You can touch me if I need help.” Error said miserably. “If I can’t walk or I can’t keep my balance or something.”

“I try not to touch you if I don’t have to. But given the circumstances…” He could feel Nightmare’s gaze on him. Nightmare sighs. “I need to change your bandages…”

“O-Oh…”

“But I’ll wait until your next dose of pain medicine. For your sake and mine.” Nightmare stands up. “Eat something and then Horror can give you your medicine.”

Error nodded. He listened to Nightmare leave, dreading when he would come back to change his bandages. He wasn’t in the mood to eat but did so when Horror offered it to him.

“Do you like it?”

“Huh? Oh, yes…” Error said. Eating was a struggle while blind, but Horror’s cooking was divine.

“Are you ok…?”

“Yeah, it’s just… All of this sucks.” Error said. “I hate this, I hate being so helpless, and I hate the fact Nightmare has to come in and- ugh… I hate being touched, but it’s unavoidable.”

Horror was quiet for a moment. He stood up and left the room. Error blinked, not that it mattered. Where was he going?

About ten seconds later, he was back. There was a pill bottle rattling in his hand. “I don’t know if this will make it easier for you… but I take sleeping pills sometimes… and I was thinking… maybe it would be easier to get through if you were sleeping.”

That idea still wasn’t appealing. He didn’t like the thought of being poked at while he was unconscious, but there weren’t many alternatives. It had to be done unless Error wanted to get an infection (which would put him out of commission for longer). He sighed for the millionth time.

“Thank you.” He said. He could practically feel Horror smiling.

“Tell me when you’re done eating so I can give you your meds.”

He dreaded finishing his food, but inevitably he did. And with his pain only getting worse and worse, he held out his hand for the medicine. Horror gave him three pills, which were two painkillers and one sleeping pill.

Whatever those meds were, they worked really fast. Especially that sleeping pill. It felt like only a few minutes after taking it, he was struggling not to fall asleep sitting up.

-

The next day, Error was a lot more restless. He was dangerously bored and found himself messing with anything nearby. Error figured out those metal things he felt before were nuts and bolts along with a couple of screws.

While he was messing with a screw and a bolt, he heard someone knock at the door. “Yes?” The door opens.

“Hey, Error,” Killer said. He could tell someone else came into the room as well, but he wasn’t sure who. “We’ve been working all night and most of today clearing out AUs.”

“How many did you clear?”

“Three,” Killer said. Error gave them an incredulous look. “Hey! Do you know how long it’s been since I cleared an AU? We’ve been working all damn night, so be a little grateful.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Error said. “I guess it would be difficult without my strings… Thank you.”

“I was hesitant to… ‘clear’ a whole AU at first…” Cross said. “But when we got there, everyone was all glitched out and looked to be in so much pain.”

“Yeah…” Error sighed. “That’s why we have to keep it from spreading.”

He heard the other two hum in agreement. Error had been home alone most of the day. Nightmare came by briefly to give him food and pain medicine, this medicine was less strong than the others because Nightmare didn’t want him to be high as hell today. And as long as he kept his leg still, it didn’t hurt, but when he moved it…

“The others are waiting for us, so we should probably hurry over there,” Killer said. Error nodded.

He shifted so his legs were off the edge of the bed and already felt jolts of pain shoot up through his leg and up his hip. Putting pressure on his wrist also stung, so he pulled it in close to his chest to avoid using it. And then, he stepped down and immediately almost blacked out from the pain.

Stumbling, he felt someone catch him. “Are you ok?” Cross asked.

“Fuck, that fucking hurts.” Error hissed, lifting his leg off the ground to keep pressure off of it.

He couldn’t see it, but he was sure that Cross and Killer were giving each other a look. “I think I could use my magic to help you-“

“No, I am ok.” Error said. “Let’s just- let’s get this over with.”

The two were still skeptical about letting Error do this and yet teleported him to the AU regardless. Immediately, a cold breeze hit him. It made his leg feel a little better even as he had to lean against Cross for support.

He pulled up the code and blindly dragged his hand across it. The sound of glitching and distorting code filled the air. As quickly as they could, they jumped to the next AU and then the next AU.

Error’s pain only got worse from standing up straight like this, his head throbbed with agony. But he refused to let that stop him. It was only three AUs. He could do just three AUs.

“Who did this to you?” Dust asked when they were back in the castle after destroying the last AU.

“What thing?” Error asked. “My leg, my wrist, or my face?”

Dust thought for a moment. “I guess your face. Whoever did it was trying to kill you, that doesn’t look like they meant to just knock you out or something.”

“Oh… I can’t remember who messed up my face.” Error said. “I do remember they caught me off guard, and then I remember getting hit hard in the face, and then they were gone.”

“Well, whoever did it better hope we don’t find them,” Killer said. “Dust looks ready to kill, and I’d gladly help him.”

Error tried to fight back a smile. It was very sweet, well, as sweet as a death threat could be. “Thanks. I uh… I need to lay back down.”

“Right, let’s get you back to bed,” Killer said. Leaning against Killer, he felt them suddenly teleport back to the room and Killer helped him sit down.

“Is this your room?” Error asked as he struggled to get back under the blankets.

“Mhm. How did you know?”

“It smells like you.” Error said. He frowned a bit. “Sorry for taking over your room…”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Killer said. Error laid down, feeling his headache ease. “You’re one of us. Part of the team, you know?”

No one had ever said anything so nice to Error. He felt like he could cry just from those words, but he didn’t. Killer sat next to him.

“Just get some rest. You need it to heal.”

The days continued like that. All the gang worked hard to clear as many AUs that were infected as they could before bringing Error to destroy the AUs. It wasn’t the most efficient, but it was working.

When Error finally got his bandages off his eye sockets, he felt immensely relieved. His other injuries still ached, his head still swam if he moved too fast, but he was doing better. Nightmare told him he wasn’t allowed to destroy until he was fully recovered, which led to a small argument between the two. Of course, Error knew Nightmare only wanted what was best for him, but that didn’t stop him from being offended that Nightmare felt like he had to protect him.

It was an argument that he ultimately lost. He was left fuming over it. He sat silently with his arms crossed childishly.

“Someone had been trying to kill you.” Nightmare said, trying to remain calm. Error said nothing. “And while you’re recovering, you are more vulnerable than usual. I am not saying you are weak, but I can’t let you just run off and get hurt again.”

Error refused to say anything. He’d had people try to kill him before, hundreds of times. He had times when he was hurt so badly that he was stuck in his Anti-Void until he healed. And yet now he was being treated like a damn child. Why?

Nightmare sighed. “When you’re healed, you can do whatever you wish. But for now, you’re going to have to listen to me even if you don’t like it.” Error refused to speak. “Get some rest.”

With that, he left. Error felt completely indignant. He glared at the door.

Deep down, he knew he was in no condition to destroy like this. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t rebel at least a little. Error could still leave whenever he wanted. What was Nightmare going to do?

He teleported to Outertale, hissing in pain when his leg touched the ground. Error limped over to the edge and sat down. Of all his injuries, his wrist was the most healed. Maybe he could sew now. Anything to cool off would be nice.

Of course, Error would return, he just didn’t like being treated like that. No one ever treated him like that before. It’s like how a mom might treat a child.

Error never had that before.

He paused when he realized that. Error had just grabbed his sewing needle and half-made doll, but now it was like he was frozen in place. Nightmare wanted what was best for him, he knew that. No one has ever cared about him as much as Nightmare has.

Was he being an asshole?

Regardless, he should probably give Nightmare some time to cool off too. And how long had it been since he had last sewn while looking at the stars? For some reason, it didn’t feel as nice as it usually did. He had this creeping sense of dread.

But that’s ok. He was going to go back, but not before he made a bit more progress on this doll. And then, he heard something.

Before Error could even turn around, he felt a foot on his back. The breath was knocked out of him and he was sent over the edge. His mind couldn’t even process what happened over his desperation to breathe and the all-consuming feeling of falling.

And then the panic hit. What felt like an endless second of infinite panic as the void closed in. He should do something! But in his panic, his code froze up.

[SYSTEM FAILURE]

[REBOOT REQUIRED]

Chapter Text

[REBOOT: 90% Complete]

[REBOOT: 100% Complete]

[Processing request…]

Error sat up, cursing in pain. His head had never hurt worse than right now and his vision was acting up again. Unsure where he was, he laid back down and prayed the pain would leave.

He didn’t know where he was. The stone was cold and felt gross. It smelled terrible too.

A part of him started to wonder if all of that was a dream. Being taken care of by the gang, feeling like he truly belonged, and inevitably the fight he had with Nightmare. With a groan, he sat up.

He was on some kind of very narrow road in between two buildings with dumpsters lining the walls. Scattered trash littered the place and mysterious stains covered the pavement and thin strips of cement. The sun was hot, oppressively so, which was making this place smell terrible. It smelled like hot, molding, alcohol-riddled, garbage. God, where was he?

He opened up this AU’s code to see where he was, and that’s when he realized something was very strange. It all looked weird. Of course, it still looked like code, but it was different too. It took a moment for him to even figure out what he was looking at, his headache and blurring vision certainly weren’t helping.

But then his eyelights stuck to a string of code that looked familiar. Nightmare was in this AU? Error was happy for a moment, that must mean he was marginally safer than he thought. But then, he slowly realized that it looked wrong too. It looked like someone had taken Nightmare’s code and changed it.

An AU of Nightmare? He’d never seen an AU of Nightmare before! Wow, Nightmare would love to hear about this.

Error raised his undamaged hand and tried to open a portal. But nothing happened. Confused, he grabbed his strings, and those worked, but for some reason, his portals and teleporting weren’t working. He tried one more time, with more magic this time.

His head exploded with pain and he collapsed back to the stone, groaning in agony. Why couldn’t he go home? That fall into the void of Outertale had to be a dream. You don’t survive the void. But what if it wasn’t? No one actually knew what happened when you fell into the void.

Still recovering, Error began to feel incredibly tired. He looked around once again, realizing he was in some alleyway of a city. This wasn’t a good place to sleep, but trying to stand up would be painful and wear him out more.

With a groan, he closed his eye sockets. The full weight of what this meant didn’t hit him yet. He was still convinced he’d wake up in Nightmare’s castle. This couldn’t be real, right?

“Excuse me.” A voice said. Error hissed in pain and sat up. There was a human woman and a bunny monster, but wearing the same uniform. “We are EMS, we got a call because someone said you looked hurt and distressed.”

“EMS?” Error asked.

“Emergency Medical Services.”

“Oh…” Error said. His head hurt like hell, he was on the verge of passing out again. “I um… I don’t know where I am.”

“Alright, well, we can help. You look a bit messed up, wanna tell us what happened?” One moved closer to him and sat down, getting ready to do… something.

“Please don’t touch me, I don’t like being touched.” He said.

“We’ll try not to do that as much as possible.”

They checked up on him and asked him some questions he assumed were standard ones. But seeing as he was bandaged up and his wounds were clean, they just gave him some medicine for the pain and a bottle of water. Error was still a mess of emotions, but the EMS workers were helping a lot. They told him where he was, helped him get oriented, and gave other details that helped Error understand things about this AU.

“It’s no problem, really. We get calls like this sometimes.” The bunny said. “Especially with all the crazy shit happening with the protests and stuff.”

“Protests?”

“Yeah, there was a bad one just last week. It was all over social media, this law that was proposed that said humans and monsters can’t have relationships.” The bunny explained. “Lead to these massive protests and demonstrations. The protesters are pretty peaceful, but the call I was on was because some extreme purists drove a car through the protest.”

“Shit…”

“Yeah. Some people were just wandering the streets injured after that. It was a real nightmare.”

“I can imagine.” Error said.

“Do you have anyone to pick you up?” The human asked.

“Uh… No, but I will be fine. Thank you.”

“Alright, well, we should get moving.” The bunny says. “If you need help, you can always call again.”

“Mhm. Bye.” Error said.

He watched them get into the ambulance and drive away. Error frowned when he was alone and opened up the code again. Why did the code look so weird? It was like it was completely different from where he was from.

Error blinked. Did he end up in an entirely different multiverse? How did that happen?

How was he going to get back?

Getting up was a struggle. His leg hurt from just standing up, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He limped forward until he was out of the alleyway and then chose a random direction.

Where was he going to go? He couldn’t teleport home, he couldn’t teleport anywhere. He was stuck here until he figured out how to get back to the other multiverse.

Some parts of the street had ancient-looking wooden paths. Some of these places looked like they were pulled from a different time. But then there would be a modern building that broke the illusion of this being an old town. Cars drove passed him, the streets were full of humans and monsters, but the people all tended to gather around outside of stores and restaurants as they chatted or just to get out of the heat. (Seeing as many storefronts had awnings.)

Some people gave him strange looks. A few looked outright hostile when they saw him, but for the most part, they just glanced at him as he approached and otherwise ignored him. He wondered why he was getting so many hostile looks. That’s something he wasn’t used to in AUs. He was used to fear, he was used to people not recognizing him, but hostility?

“Oh, I absolutely love that jacket! Where did you get it from?” Asked a human lady, right as she came out of a restaurant. Error blinked in surprise, not expecting to be talked to.

She was on the older side, with wrinkles and greying hair. She had a short skirted dress in a royal blue color with a v-neck and t-length sleeves. It reminded Error of something he’d seen in one of those old movies that Horror likes. Black leggings underneath and fancy blue slip-on shoes.

“I-I uh… I made it myself.” Error said, looking down at his jacket. “I added patches any time it got torn up.”

“I love that style.” She said. “I have had a huge passion for knitting since I was a young girl.”

“Me too.” Error said. She laughed, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it had something to do with the ‘girl’ thing. Error had no concept of gender.

“You were limping before, are you alright?”

“Oh, I am… I am ok.” Error said.

“Are you sure? I could drive you where you need to go.” She offered.

“That’s very nice, but I have nowhere to go.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” She said. “Do you have a place to sleep?”

Error shook his head. What was he going to do? Sleeping on the streets would make his injuries worse.

“You could come to my house. Maybe meet my granddaughter!” She said. Error was completely shocked. This old lady was just inviting random roughed-up strangers to her house?

“Why? Why would you let me stay at your house?”

“I am an excellent judge of character. Never been wrong in that regard.” She said. “My name is Kailani Zhang. But everyone just calls me Grandma.”

“Kailani? That’s a pretty name.”

“Aw, thank you. I changed my name to Kailani when I immigrated because it sounded more American. And because it’s pretty.”

“I like that name.” He said. “I’m Error.”

“Lovely to meet you, Error.” She said.

Kailani seemed to be a very gregarious person. Nearly ten people waved at her or said a quick ‘hello’ just on the way to her car. Also, she tended to talk a whole lot. The entire car ride, she kept chatting and chatting. It was a little endearing.

“Ever since my granddaughter moved in with me, I lost my spare room. I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” She said.

“No, it’s perfectly ok.”

“That’s good,” Kailani said. “My granddaughter has gotten very reclusive recently, so you might not see her much and I am sorry about that. But she truly is a lovely girl. I remember this one time, she tried to save a ball from the lake for her friend and ended up getting stuck on the lake with just a floatie!”

“Mm.”

“Yup, it was terrifying! At least for me because I never learned how to swim, so I was scared she’d fall off and drown! But of course, she knows how to swim and she had a floatie… anyway! Eventually, this nice young man saw my distress and went out to help my granddaughter back to shore.” Kailani said. “She didn’t get the ball though. It’s probably still just floating around in the middle of the lake. That was a while ago, back when my son used to just drop her off for the weekends.”

On and on she went, talking about her granddaughter. Error did try to pay attention, but he was so damn tired and his head was light. It wasn’t too long before they made it to the house. It was a lovely house made of brick with a nice porch. Old toys from children were scattered across it, including a red bucket and a crumbled sandcastle.

Kailani got out of the car and Error copied her. He nervously stuck close to her as they went up to the porch. And then, Kailani pauses.

“When you see her face, please don’t mention the bandages,” Kailani said. “She’s self-conscious of them.”

“O-Ok. I won’t.” Error said. Bandages?

The inside of the house was very nice. The living room and kitchen were connected, there was a TV and everything was a nice pastel color. The walls were pastel blue with dark wooden baseboards, the floor was a reddish brown and polished. The couch was pastel yellow with handmade pink and blue pillows and blankets. The fridge and stove were stainless steel and there was a kitchen island with three barstools. The walls were bare and it had no curtains on any of the four windows, making the place feel more open. It smelled lovely too. Perfume and a smell similar to vanilla.

“Tella! We have a guest, come here.” Kailani called. A door down the hallway opened and then a girl peeked around the doorframe.

She was a girl around 15-16 years old with straight black hair. She also had a dark blue shirt on, but her outfit was far more casual than her grandmother’s, with just plain white socks and black cozy-looking pants. The right half of her face, including her eye, was obscured by bandages.

“Error, this is my granddaughter Tella. And Tella, this is Error. He’s staying with us for a while.” Kailani said. Tella looked at him before nodding and retreating to her room. “Excuse her poor manners, she’s had a rough couple of months.”

“I… I could guess.” Error said.

“Well, take your time getting settled in. We can talk more later.” She said, walking away.

Error sat down on the couch, feeling very out of place. He wanted to go home. This place was lovely, but he wanted to go back to Nightmare’s castle. The peeling wallpaper and the smell of home, his friends watching bad TV and joking around. It hadn’t even been a day and he was deeply homesick.

He wondered if they were doing ok.

Error slept harder than he should’ve considering he was in a stranger’s house. He knew he should be more cautious, but his injuries seemed to be robbing him of all his energy. He only woke up when he heard someone open the fridge door.

He sat up and looked around blearily. Tella was getting something from the fridge to eat. Once she had it, she quickly hurried out of the room, hardly sparing him a glance.

With a sigh, he laid back down. He wanted to sleep for the next century. This house seemed safe enough, and he could take two humans in a fight if they suddenly attacked him. Maybe he could sleep-

Suddenly he sat up. No, he couldn’t sleep. He had to get home. He needed to get back before his multiverse started to corrupt worse than it already had. Oh god, there was going to be so much work to do when he got back.

How was he going to get back? There had to be a way. He got here by falling into the void, but he couldn’t do that again. Even if there was a void in this multiverse, jumping into it would be a stupid idea. What if this was a one-time miracle? What if next time he gets torn apart bit by bit in the void?

And even if this AU had a void and even if he isn’t torn apart from falling into it, what were the chances he’d end up in his multiverse? There could be thousands upon thousands of multiverses out there. Jumping blindly into the void could send him somewhere terrible. This AU wasn’t bad, it was very peaceful. From what he’d seen. What if the next one was a thousand times worse? He was lucky to have landed here.

But he needed to get home. His friends needed him. They could clear AUs on their own, but they couldn’t access the code to destroy the AUs. Without him, they’d either corrupt or get erased when the main timeline corrupts.

“Oh! You’re awake. That’s good.” Kailani said.

“Hm? Oh, yes.” Error said.

“I’ll make some breakfast.”

Error was in a very glum mood. His pain was returning and the only thought in his head was getting home. There had to be some way to do it.

Kailani made enough for the three of them. She even plated it nicely. When food was done, she walked over to him and handed him a plate before sitting next to him with her own.

“So, what’s your plan?” Kailani asked. Error’s confusion must’ve shown on his face. “For your job, your housing situation, your future. What’s next?”

“Oh… I… I don’t know.”

“Alright, well, let’s start with housing,” Kailani said. Error nodded dumbly. “Is it just you? No one else lives with you?”

“Yes… it’s just me.” Error said.

“Alright. Well, there’s a house right next door.” Kailani said. “My friend used to live there, but she moved out of the city and to the mountains for cleaner air. It’s a lovely house and is currently on sale. You have money to spend, yes?”

“I do.” Error said. He had MORE than enough coins to buy a house, he just wasn’t sure how long he would be staying.

“I know who’s in charge of selling that house. I could put in a good word for you.” Kailani said. Error nodded again. “Next, work. What are you good at?”

“Um… I-… Well, um… I like knitting and… s-stars.” Error said, realizing the only thing he was good at was destroying things.

Kailani nodded and thought quietly for a moment. And then, she looked up at him. “Do you by chance have a teaching degree?” She asked. “If so, I think I know the perfect job for you!”

“Y-Yes, I do.” Error blatantly lied. He was just overwhelmed and didn’t know how to respond! Plus, he could change the AU’s code to give himself a teaching degree. I mean, how hard could teaching be?

“Oh, perfect! I thought that was a long shot, but I am so glad that you do!” Kailani said. “The friend I was talking about? She quit her teaching job. The principal at the school has been looking for someone for the sewing class.”

Error blinked, trying to process everything. This woman was just helping him? Helping him get a house and a job?

“Why are you helping me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She asked. “Look, everyone falls under rough times. Sometimes, you need a little help. I assume you are new to the city, and I understand that it can be overwhelming to try and meet so many new people and try to get a job and a house and all that good stuff. So sometimes you need an old bat who chats too much to help you.”

Error felt himself get emotional. With all the shit he was going through, he needed someone to care for his well-being. And he did need something to do while trapped here, some cover story. He felt that telling people he was a Destroyer of AUs from another multiverse was a bad idea. It’d get him locked in a padded cell if nothing else.

“Thank you…” Error said, truly heart warmed.

“It’s no problem. I know the principal, we go way back.” Kailani said. Error huffed a laugh.

“How many people do you know?”

“Lots.” She said. “I’ll give him a call, but it’s up to you to nail the interview.”

“Of course. Thank you so much.” He said.

“Any time.”

Error didn’t have any idea how to buy a house. He had more than enough coins from all the fights he’d been in, but he didn’t know what the process was like. But thankfully, he had Kailani to help.

She was handling most of the stuff Error needed to do, and all he had to do was pay. He couldn’t be more grateful to her. It was embarrassing that he needed this much help, but she didn’t mind.

“It’s no problem. I remember that when I moved to the States, I struggled a lot.” She said. “It was just me, my husband, and my three-month-old son. I was the only one who could speak English. Mind you, I wasn’t good at it, but my husband could only say basic things like ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’. Even in the end, his English barely improved from when we first moved. I had to figure out everything on my own.”

“I am so sorry. A-About your husband.” Error added.

“Oh, don’t be. It was a while ago and… well, we both knew it was coming.” She said. “Anyway, I wanted to help you because when I saw you, you looked confused and maybe a little lonely. Besides, it’s not an issue for me.”

“Thank you again.” Error said.

“It’s no problem. Now, I am going to go see some of my other friends. I asked Tella if she wanted to come with me, but she said no, so it will just be you two here.” Kailani explained. “Call me if anything happens, like if the house catches on fire.”

“A-Alright, I will.” He said. Kailani was far too trusting. Is that how all people are in this multiverse or is it just her?

“Oh, and here is the remote,” Kailani said, setting it on the arm of the couch near Error. “I’ll be back soon.”

And then she was gone. Error sighed quietly and turned on the TV. He struggled for a moment to figure out how he changed channels, but once he got the hang of it, he started looking for something to watch.

Nothing seemed very interesting to him. He wanted to be distracted from his issues for at least a little while, but nothing could hold his attention. Error just wanted to go home. He didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, but he just missed home too much.

-

It was one thing to agree to an interview while being swept up in a tidal wave of gregarious energy, but another thing entirely to go there. He’d never gone to a job interview before! He’d never even gone to school before.

That night, he added his own ‘story’ to the code. There was no other Error existing in this world although he recognized other people. That meant he didn’t have to worry about a doppelgänger and an awkward conversation. In the story he made he was homeschooled, graduated middle of the pack, and received a teaching degree.

The next day, he had to go to the interview. Error was petrified by the idea, but that was the only date that the principal could do. They seemed desperate for a new sewing teacher since school started so soon.

Error was shaking a little as he entered the school. Where did he go? What did he say?

“Oh, are you the new sewing teacher?” Asked a voice. Error looked over to see Geno. That was very strange to see.

“Hopefully.” Error said. Geno huffed a laugh. “I have no idea what I am doing.”

“Don’t worry, most of us don’t know what we are doing,” Geno said. He held out a hand to Error. “I am Geno. I am the world religion and ELA teacher.”

“Oh.” Error said. He didn’t take Geno’s hand. Did his Geno have an interest in religion? He wasn’t sure, he didn’t speak to the guy often. “Uh, I am Error. Sorry, I don’t like physical contact…”

Geno dropped his arm. “Alright, not a problem.” He said. “So, I assume you’re here for an interview?”

“Yeah, uh… I haven’t ever been to a job interview before.” Error said.

“Oh, this is your first job?”

“Mhm.” Error said. “I don’t know if you know Kailani, but she helped me get this job.”

“Kailani, yes, I know her. She used to babysit my little brother when I had to work.” Geno said. It really did seem like Kailani knew everyone. “Anyways, I could take you to the principal’s office if you want. That’s where the interview should be.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

Geno had never seen a skeleton quite like Error before. His face had scars that were centered above his eye socket, it looked sort of like when you drop an egg on a countertop. That was the worst injury Geno could see, but there were others.

Of course, it was none of his business where those scars came from, but he was curious. Error also had a genetic disorder that was colloquially called ‘Glitching Disease’ or ‘Dot EXE Syndrome’ (which is in reference to popular internet horror stories). Geno wasn’t sure what the scientific name was for this condition, but it was a very highly misunderstood condition. It was exclusive to monsters and occasionally human-monster hybrids because it was passed genetically.

This has led to a lot of discrimination against not only people with Glitching Disease but also human-monster hybrids. Pure-blooded humans are afraid that crossbreeding will lead the disease to become a human disease too. Well, that was unfair to say, not ALL humans were like that.

Geno had a suspicion that Error’s injuries had something to do with his condition. With all the violence happening recently, it would make sense. But of course, that was just a theory.

“The office is just through that door,” Geno said.

“O-Oh, thanks. Should I knock? Sorry, that’s stupid, of course I should.” Error said. He seemed more than a little socially awkward. Geno laughed a little.

“It’s ok to be nervous. Don’t worry, the principal doesn’t bite.” He said. “Well… I was just here to set up my stuff before school. Good luck.”

Error nodded. “Thank you. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The interview was one of the most nerve-wracking things Error had ever done. He’d rather fight Ink blindfolded than do that ever again! But it wasn’t the principal’s fault.

The principal was a small dog monster. He was painfully unmedicated for ADHD, he physically couldn’t sit still for the whole interview. The dog monster’s constant movement made Error nervous. They checked his background and made sure he had a teaching degree then asked some standard questions. He thinks they are standard questions, again, he’d never been to an interview before. One of the questions was ‘What is your greatest weakness?’ And so Error responded very honestly with ‘Flying projectiles.’

Without his glasses, he was as blind as a bat, especially when things were far away. So whenever a magic bullet came at him from far away, he struggled to dodge it. But for some reason, the little dog howled with laughter at his response. As if it was a joke.

Somehow, he made it through the interview without passing out from fear. And the little dog told him that as long as no one miraculously came in by tomorrow, he’d have the job. Apparently, this was the last spot they needed, the last thing keeping them from fully forming the schedules.

Of course, the first thing he did when he got back to Kailani’s house was tell her all about it. She seemed overjoyed. “I knew you’d be a perfect fit!”

“I also met someone there. His name is Geno.”

“Oh, yes, Geno. A lovely boy.” Kailani said. “I knew his mom too. The poor guy was born sick, he’d been fighting ever since. He is a real warrior.”

Geno was sick in this multiverse? He guessed it was supposed to parallel the fact Geno was eternally bleeding and just generally going through it in his multiverse. Or was his multiverse the remix? Who knows?

“What illness does he have?”

“It’s um… Uh… What’s it called? It's uh… um…” Kailani thought hard. “No clue what it’s called, but he has an excessive amount of determination. Not just that though. Some of the medicine they try on him is even worse. Makes him get sick easier or makes him depressed. Some he has allergic reactions too, and some just don’t work. Been a struggle since he was a baby.”

“Oh, that’s so sad…” Error said. He didn’t like the idea of baby Geno being sick and struggling to survive. “Um… He mentioned he’s the world religion teacher.”

“Yes, indeed,” Kailani said, brightening. “He is as smart as they come and got interested in the topic of religion and spiritual traditions young. Now he could talk your ear off for hours. Can’t imagine where he got that trait from.”

Error laughed at her sarcasm. “I don’t mind it.” He said.

“That’s good because I got a whole lot of things to talk about.” She said. “Now, where do I start?”

Error sat there with some tea as he listened to her chat. She always had something to say. Despite trying to pay attention, his mind drifted.

With what he had now, there was no way to get home. He was kind of stuck until they came to get him. But what if they thought he was dead? What if he was dead?

From here, he had no idea how to know how much had been destroyed back home. All he could do was estimate. Four months. If he couldn’t get back in four months, the multiverse was doomed.

Fuck, he missed them so much. He wanted to watch trash TV with Killer. Of all of them, he had the strongest connection to Killer, he was the one who showed Error his first act of kindness. Error never experienced kindness until Killer protected him during a fight when he had no reason to. He saved Error, he saw Error had crashed during a fight and stood there defending Error until he rebooted. There was no reason to do that, it didn’t benefit Killer, and yet he did it. Now, he’d do whatever it took to keep that smile on his face. Even if it was watching some garbage TV.

He and Dust were bonded by a near-death experience. A piece of rebar went straight through Dust and into Error. It snapped Dust’s rib and skewered Error’s sternum. Now, whenever either moved slightly, the other was left in agony. It took a while for the others to figure out how to get them unstuck. During that time, he and Dust found themselves alone together just talking. And as strange as it sounded, Dust made being impaled so much more bearable. Ever since then, they’ve just gotten together sometimes to talk, things they didn’t tell most other people. Dust was the one who gave Error his first taste of alcohol. It sucked! And yet the two of them just kept drinking this shitty drink, sitting by the window and chatting the night away.

Cross was cold and cautious of him when they first met, but through exposure, they both softened up to each other. He had the most wholesome smile Error had ever seen. It was rare, but that smile could melt anyone’s heart. The amount of generosity Cross showed him was crazy. They were in this weird place of trying to one-up each other with favors. Playfully of course. Cross got Error his favorite food because he heard Error mention it once. Error fixed Cross’s scarf when it was badly damaged in a fight. Cross went to find the puppet Error dropped when he was caught off guard. Error made a doll of Horror because Cross mentioned that he always felt safer at night when one of his friends was with him. Back and forth, that’s how it went. Error missed it.

Of all of them, Horror’s way of showing affection hit him the hardest. He always made sure Error was taking care of himself, even amid a fight. Horror struggled to remember most things, and yet he put in so much effort to remember things that Error needed to do. Like changing his bandages and eating semi-consistently. But also, he showed things that meant a lot to him to Error, like a child proudly displaying their drawing. He liked these really old TV shows, black and white movies and old cartoons. In return, Error showed things that meant a lot to him and Horror paid attention with interest.

And then of course Nightmare. No one ever cared for him like Nightmare did. Not that the others hated him or anything! But Nightmare’s love felt different. Error never had anything like it before. They bonded because Error mentioned that he liked the stars. Nightmare’s eyelight lit up and he just started talking and talking. Error loved it. He loved his voice and listening to him talk about things he found fascinating.

He couldn’t believe he had been so stupid. Why was he even upset with Nightmare in the first place?

“You seem distracted,” Kailani said.

“Hm? Oh. I am just… homesick.” He says, focusing on Kailani again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Error frowned. He had to be vague about where he was from. Again, because if he told her the fact he was from another multiverse, he’d get grippy socks and a padded cell.

“Well… It’s not so much the place as it is the people. I left my best friends behind to come here.” Error admits quietly.

“Why?”

“I-I… I got into a fight with one of them. It was stupid and I regret it every day.” Error said. “My friend just wanted the best for me, but I didn’t like being… God, it sounds so stupid, but I don’t like being talked down to. He wasn’t, but that’s how I interpreted it at the time. He just wanted what was best for me.”

Kailani took in the information with a nod. “You know… I have been around for a long time and I know that nothing heals better than a genuine apology. It sounds like you regret the fight.”

“I do.”

She smiles. “So tell him. If he’s truly your friend, he’ll understand. He might still be a little upset, but he will understand that you’re truly sorry.”

Error’s soul ached. If he could, he would. If he could be with Nightmare right now, that’s the first thing that he would do. He wasn’t good at apologizing, but he’d find some way to make Nightmare understand how fucking sorry he is.

“Thank you. I… I’ll do that the first chance I get.” Error said. What would he even say to Nightmare? ‘Sorry for acting like a toddler, I was just upset that you were treating me like a toddler.’ That’s dumb.

“Well, that’s enough of me talking your ear off,” Kailani said, standing up. “Do you want to help me make lunch?”

“Yeah, I can help.” Error said. What else did he have to do with his time?

-

The reality of this teaching job didn’t hit until Tella got her schedule. She and Kailani were discussing it at the kitchen island. And she mentioned that Tella was in Error’s sewing class.

Suddenly, dread hit him so hard that he nearly threw up. He had never once been a student, he could count the number of times he was in a classroom on one hand. What the hell did teachers even do? What was he supposed to do?

And of course, he couldn’t just ask that! He supposedly had a teaching degree, so they must’ve taught all the teaching things in college or wherever you get a teaching degree. Error was spiraling. Hard.

“Nervous for your first day?” Kailani asked.

“Um… a little.” Error said.

“Yeah, I can see that. But you’ll be fine, just start with the basics. Most of the kids have probably never even held a sewing needle before. I know Tella hasn’t.” Kailani laughed.

Error nodded. Basics. He could do that. Teach kids how not to stab each other and stuff.

“And I don’t think you’ll be expected to give them a project for a while since it is a beginner class.”

“Project?” Error asked before he could help himself.

“Yeah, to prove they are learning. Like… having them try to make a blanket or something. Something easy, then it progressively gets tougher.” Kailani said. Thank god for this woman’s tendency to talk a lot and over-explain.

“I can do that. I just… I don’t know, I am still nervous.” Error said.

“It’s not going to be nearly as bad as you think. You’ll see.”

When the list of the kid’s names came in, Error tried his best to memorize them all. The class he had the easiest time remembering was first period because he had a few people he recognized. Outer, Horror, Tella, Dust, Blue, Fresh, Cross, and Killer were the ones he recognized.

God, it was going to be so weird to see those seven again. Fresh as his damn student? Hopefully, he was marginally less annoying in this Multiverse.

Kailani helped him with all the names he wasn’t sure about in terms of how to pronounce them. He did NOT want to mispronounce someone’s name and embarrass himself. If that happened, he’d throw himself out of the window.

-

Error squirmed uncomfortably as he stared at the school. Dread only seemed to build and build. How the hell was he supposed to do this? He was going to have a panic attack even before seeing small versions of his friends.

He wasn’t completely alone. Tella was standing near him, scowling at the building. Eventually, she sighs.

“I don’t wanna go back. They are going to bully me.” She said quietly. Error glanced at her, but she just walked away without saying anything else.

He frowned. How had he not thought about that? It makes sense why she was so isolated now.

Error miserably entered the school as well. He ended up mindlessly wandering around, unsure what he was even supposed to be doing. It was during that time that he bumped into a smaller skeleton.

“Oh, I am sorry.” Error said.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” They said with an awkward smile. They looked up from their book, cute purple eyelights locking with Error’s. “Are you the new teacher?”

“Yes, I am the new sewing teacher.” Error said, realizing how weird the words felt on his tongues.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” He said. His smile turned less awkward and he held out his hand to shake Error’s. “I am Nightmare, I am the creative writing and history teacher.”

“Nightmare?” Error said, completely taken aback. Is this what he looked like under all the goop? Nightmare blinked in confusion.

“Do we… know each other?”

“N-No, sorry… I just know someone named Nightmare. You two look completely different though.” Error said. Nightmare laughed quietly. “I am Error.”

“Nice to meet you, Error. So, what’s your plan?” He asked.

“Uh…” A plan. That would’ve been a smart idea instead of just walking in blindly.

“I was just going to introduce myself to the class and give a brief introduction to the material.” Nightmare said. “Other than that, not much happens on the first day.”

“Yeah, my plan was pretty much just that.” Error said. You know, like a liar.

“Simple, but it works.” He said, shrugging. “Is sewing fun? I have never tried.”

“Yeah, I like it.” Error said. “I initially started because my jacket got torn up. But then I started making these little dolls.”

“Aww…” Nightmare said, smiling. “I should try sewing at some point. Did you make that scarf too?”

“Yeah, I did.” Error said, glancing down at it. “My other one caught fire. Besides, I liked blue better anyways.”

Nightmare blinked in confusion. Caught fire? How the hell does a scarf catch fire like that?

“Oh… um. I like… blue too.” Nightmare said awkwardly.

“Mhm. So… history. You like that?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. I like thinking about how people lived thousands of years ago.” Nightmare said with a smile. “High schoolers can be trouble sometimes, but at least it’s far better than my brother. My twin, his name is Dream, works at the kindergarten. I would go crazy with 20 or so 5-year-olds screaming at me all the time.”

Now that’s one that made sense. Dream has seemingly endless patience, so working with screaming kids made sense. “I don’t think I’ve even held a baby before. I’d go crazy from stress…”

“Tell me about it.” Nightmare said, laughing. “You’re in class 3c, right?”

“I… think so.”

“Cool, well, I am in the next class over, so we can walk together.” Nightmare said. Error nodded, glad to have someone who knew what they were doing. “Do you read a lot?”

“Uh, not really. I don’t have time. Plus my eyesight is pretty bad.” Error said. “And my glasses are… well… gone.”

More specifically, they were probably somewhere in the void. It sucked too because he was getting eye strain. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to read too much until he could get replacement glasses.

“Ah… well… I like reading. If you can’t tell.” Nightmare said.

“I like stories though. My friend used to read to me a lot.” Error said. He loved it whenever Nightmare would read to him.

“Have you ever heard the tale of the bamboo cutter?” Nightmare asked.

“Uh, no. Is that the book you are reading?”

“Yeah, I just got it recently. It’s a very old fairytale.” Nightmare explained. “It’s a Japanese story about a girl from the moon.”

He explained the story on the way there. Error missed hearing Nightmare talk about stories he found cool. He was a different person, but he still spoke in the same way and had the same interests. It was nice, a too-short reminder of what his home was like.

“Alright, well, I need to get ready for my class. Bye, Error.” He said. Something about hearing Nightmare say his name again made his soul skip a beat.

“Bye, Nightmare.”

He almost forgot how anxious he was in that short amount of time. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, he found it easier to keep calm. How long did he have before class started? Error could hear people arriving at school. Lots and lots of kids soon would be staring at him.

Even the thought was enough to make him glitch.

All in all, this wasn’t the worst schedule that Killer could have. First period was sewing class. Killer needed an art elective, plus it felt like sewing was a good skill to have.

Several of his friends had this class too, so it wouldn’t be miserable even if the class was boring. The first person he saw when he got there was Dust. He had gotten here before the teachers did. He was now just sitting on the concrete outside.

“Dust!” Killer called. He dropped next to his friend. “It’s so good to see you. How are you doing?”

“Um… I am ok. Uh… How are you?” Dust asked. He’d been having a rough month. His little brother died recently. Ever since then, Dust has been quiet and despondent. Not that Killer could blame him.

“Aw, you know me. Been crashing at Cross’s house for a while.” Killer said. “We raced here so I kinda lost Cross in the crowd, but he should be here soon.”

“Mm. You seen Horror?”

“Nah, but we can go looking for him.” Killer suggested.

They’d hung out on break, but it always felt like a new beginning when they met for a new school year. The group was back together! Horror was sitting on the benches outside of the cafeteria, Cross eventually caught up with them. Killer missed this even if school kind of sucked.

“This year seems like it will be cool though,” Killer said. “I got a bunch of classes that actually sound interesting and also there’s new students, so…”

“Did you hear there is a new sewing teacher?” Cross asked, staring down at his schedule.

“I did!” Killer said. “That class will either be super fun or super boring. Either way, at least we all have it together.”

“Pretty sure Hate is also in that class.” Horror mumbled.

“Fuck.” Killer sighed. No one liked that guy. He was so standoffish for no reason.

“Maybe it’ll be too early in the morning for him to be a douchebag.” Dust suggested. “He might just sleep through that class.”

“I mean, it is sewing class.” Killer said while shrugging. “He probably only chose it specifically so he could sleep through it.”

“Killer…” Horror mumbled self-consciously. Killer looked over at him. “Did you bring the uh…”

“Oh, yeah. Here you go, king.” Killer bent down and opened up his backpack, tossing a granola bar and a bag of chips to him.

“Where did you get that from?” Cross asked, knowing full well where he got it from.

“Your house. Duh.” Killer said.

They hung out for the rest of the morning. Only Cross’s parents paid for him to eat breakfast and lunch at school, so it felt a little weird to hang around the cafeteria. Other than that, the only place that wasn’t icy in the morning breeze was the bathrooms. And they weren’t about to hang around the bathrooms for warmth.

After a little debate, they decided to just head to class. All of them were curious about the new teacher and all of them usually hung around ‘chill teachers’ anyway. Maybe this teacher was chill too. So they headed to the class.

He paused when he entered the classroom. The teacher didn’t look like any teacher Killer had ever seen. He’d had big teachers before, but this guy made the others look like children. And he was covered in scars. Pretty much any part of him that wasn’t covered held scars. Peeking out from under his scarf, covering his hands and wrists, his skull, and even the back of it. It didn’t help as much as you may think that his bones are black. Usually, that would swallow any scarring, but because of his Glitching Disease, the edges of the scars seemed almost highlighted.

This guy was a sewing teacher?

He was easily big and scary enough to be a bodyguard or a bouncer or something. Actually, now that Killer thought about it, he’d never seen a bodyguard or bouncer. But in the movies, they always looked scary! Killer’s imagination about who this guy is started going crazy.

To say he looked nervous would be an understatement. This guy looked like he was ready to jump for cover at any moment. A war vet maybe? That became Killer’s leading theory as he sat down at a desk.

With a heavy sigh, the guy turned from the window to look at them as the others sat down nearby. The look on the guy’s face when he saw them was almost indescribable. It was gone almost immediately, but Killer would never forget that look because it was so strange.

“Is class starting?” He asked.

“No, it’s just cold and we wanted to sit down,” Killer said. The teacher nodded quietly and looked back out the window.

This guy was fucking weird. No introduction or anything? He didn’t look like a teacher at all. What if he wasn’t?

“Uh… What’s your name?” Cross asked. The teacher blinked, seemingly realizing how awkward he was being.

“Oh! Yes, my name is Error.” He said.

“You should probably write it on the board so you don’t have to repeat it,” Cross advised.

Killer stopped paying attention to what was happening as he bent over to grab his notebook. He was intending to just draw considering that his damn phone has been dead for a week. He left his charger at home and didn’t feel like going back to grab it.

“You have nice handwriting,” Cross said, likely to fill the silence. Killer glanced up and saw that the teacher had written ‘My name is Error’ on the board. Killer looked back down at what he was doing.

“Thanks, Cross.” Error said, shrugging and sitting down at the desk.

Killer paused for a moment. How did he know Cross’s name? But then he mentally brushed it off. Of course, he did, he had the class roster, and it probably had some kind of picture of Cross too, or something.

After that, Killer completely spaced out. He knew at some point the bell rang and people started to come in, but he didn’t care much. Killer tried to only draw in the margins so notes could go on the main part of the page. His drawings always bordered on disturbing, but they got more explicitly terrifying or depressing while he was at school.

He only focused back on what was happening around him when the teacher started talking more directly to the class. Killer looked around and realized the class seemed relatively full. For an elective early in the morning that is.

“Um… Hello. I am Error as it says on the board. Just a heads up, I have no fucking clue what I am doing.” Mr. Error said. Small laughs ran through the class, most were either shocked that he dropped a curse word so quickly and the other half was too tired to care. “I need to make sure everyone is here. If I pronounce your name wrong or you want to be called something else, just tell me. So… Vasco Mendez?”

“Here.” Said one of the few humans in the whole school. It’s not that humans weren’t supposed to go to this school, it’s just that for some reason more monsters lived around this area than humans. Maybe it also had something to do with the fact there was no human staff at the school.

“Leonor Roland?”

Hate winced, making a disgusted and upset face. “My name is Hate.” He said.

Killer blinked in surprise. Leonor Roland? He tried to hold back a smile.

Mr. Error just nodded, crossing out the name on his list and writing something else. Hate’s angry eyes snapped over to Killer. “What’s so funny?” He snapped.

“I am literally just sitting here,” Killer said.

Killer was half convinced that Hate was going to jump him after school. It’s not like it was Killer’s fault that his parents gave him a goofy ass name. But it’s not like that mattered, Hate was mad at him because he was an easy target. It also didn’t help that Killer was a smart ass.

“Penny Lott?”

“Here.” Said a sheep monster. Penny was chill. She and Killer weren’t necessarily friends, but they talked once or twice. However, her brother had caught Killer’s eye. But considering he was literally the stereotypical straight guy, Killer never even attempted to talk to him.

“Outer Leavitt?”

“Here.”

Killer glanced over at Outer. He didn’t know he was in this class! He waved at him and Outer waved back. Outer was cute as hell, Killer would be lying if he said he didn’t have the most massive crush on him in middle school. He even gave him a cringey love letter. Outer never realized that Killer had given him the note and to Killer’s knowledge never even told anyone. And that was just fine with Killer.

“Margarita Delaney?”

“Uh- I go by Cookie.” She said, glancing up from her phone. Cookie was also pretty chill. She was the first human Killer ever made friends with. They were friends in second grade but they slowly drifted apart. Cookie was a nickname because her grandmother was also named Margarita. Killer had no idea how ‘Cookie’ became her nickname, but at least it was easy to remember.

Mr. Error nodded and crossed off the name, writing her preferred name instead. That was very nice. Some older teachers didn’t even think to ask about preferred names. Killer couldn’t imagine Mrs. Bess respecting a preferred name.

“Horror Jeconiah.”

“Here.” Horror said. Killer was always caught off guard when he heard Horror’s last name.

“Sunny Harris?”

“Here.” Said the Guinea pig monster. Sunny’s family was the polar opposite of Killer’s family. Her parents owned an art museum, making them richer than Killer could imagine. What would he even do with all that money?

That was a joke. If he had all that money, he’d buy himself and his friends a new life away from this city. But as it was now, he was couch surfing and hoarding food because he never knew when his next meal would be.

“Darcy Haines?”

“Here.” Said another human. Darcy was probably the prettiest human Killer had ever seen. It wasn’t often he felt attraction towards women, but he couldn’t help it in the case of Darcy. She was pretty, but also smart, part of the cheerleading team, popular on social media, and a great friend. From what Killer had seen. He was too intimidated to talk to her.

“Tella Zhang.”

“I am here.” She said quietly. Killer blinked, completely dismayed. What the hell happened to her face?

Tella and Killer were best friends in middle school. They drifted apart a little, but that seems like the thing you’d tell someone. And he thought she moved away with her dad and was going to a new school. Why was she here now? Why hadn’t she come to see Killer? Weren’t they friends? Killer thought they were close at some point.

“Dust Quincy.”

“Here.” Dust said. He had his head on the desk, he seemed exhausted, even more so than usual.

“Giselle Montano?”

“Here.” The last human in the class said. Killer had never talked with her before, she might even be a new student. She seemed cool though.

“Blue Kean?”

“Here.”

“Fresh Woodrow?”

“Here.”

“Cross Xander?”

“Here.”

“Amelia Praham?”

“Here.” Said a meerkat monster. She looked half asleep where she was sitting.

“Ethan Asher?”

“Here.” Said a bat monster. Killer never talked to this guy, but his mom was nice. She worked at the grocery store and once caught Killer stealing, but didn’t call the police on him. Instead, she calmed him down (because Killer was hysterically sobbing, scared he’d get sent to jail as a damn 7-year-old) and she talked with him.

Killer explained to her that he was just so hungry because his dad was out of town and there was no food in the kitchen. She admonished him for trying to steal, then bought him not only dinner but also enough food for a week. He also thought she called CPS but for some reason nothing happened? Maybe he was misremembering that. Either way, he liked Mrs. Asher. She was nice.

“Graham Castro?”

“Here!” The dog monster said. He’d been distracted previously, but at his name, he snapped to attention as if to cover up his brief slip of attention. But Killer didn’t think Mr. Error cared about the fact his nose was buried in a book.

“Yasmina Hinojosa?”

“Here.” Said a monster that looked distinctly like a tapir. Killer knew her because her grandfather always went crazy with decorations every Christmas. Every weekend in December, they’d give out hot chocolate and banana bread. Her grandpa was fun, but Killer was always a little intimidated by how high energy he was all the time. “But in my last name, the j sounds like an h.”

“Oh, I am sorry.” Mr. Error said. He wrote a little note to remind himself of that.

“Killer Stoker.”

“Here,” Killer said, noticing Hate glance at him. He resisted the urge to flip him off.

“And Faina Clement?”

“Here.” Said the mouse monster.

Mr. Error seemed relieved now that the attendance was taken. He set down the clipboard like it was the source of all his problems. He seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else than teaching a class right now. Killer had never been a teacher before, but for some reason, he related to Mr. Error’s desire to not be here.

“So… This is a sewing class. Uh… basic sewing class. Don’t worry if you don’t know what you’re doing, I’d guess most people here also don’t know what they’re doing.” Mr. Error said. Someone laughed a little. “This is my first time teaching so if I do something wrong, just tell me.”

He glanced at Tella. Once again, Killer looked at her as well. What had happened to her? Why didn’t she tell Killer? They used to tell each other everything.

“One other thing I want to mention is that if you are experiencing bullying, you can tell me. I will do what I have to in order to help you.” Error said. Tella glanced at him, no expression on her face. “Um… Anyway… Does anyone have any questions?”

It was quiet for a moment. But then, Cookie raised her hand. Mr. Error looked baffled for a moment but asked her what her question was.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Killer had to hold back a laugh. That was not the kind of question that Mr. Error was expecting. He scrambled for an answer for a second. “Um… no?”

“Or a wife or a fiancée or something?”

“No. It’s just me.” Mr. Error said. Ethan raised his hand. “Yes?”

“What’s your first name?”

“F-First name?” Mr. Error blinked slowly. “Error is my first name.”

“Oh… So what is your last name?”

“Um… Erratum.” He said. For some reason, it had the vibe that he made it up on the spot, but Killer was sure it was because he was uncomfortable and put on the spot. Probably.

“Your name is Error Erratum?”

“Yes.” Mr. Error said. He shifted uncomfortably.

The class was quiet again. Killer had a question but didn’t want to be the one to ask it. After a moment, he sighed and raised his hand. Mr. Error called on him.

“Where did you get that scar from?” Killer asked.

“Uh…” Mr. Error glanced down at himself. “Which one?”

Killer thought for a moment. “The one on your face.” He said. That one in particular looked brutal.

“Oh. I can’t remember that one. Someone hit me in the face with something, but I can’t remember what.” Mr. Error said.

“What about that one?” Horror asked, pointing at his hand. It looked like Mr. Error’s hand had been crushed by something heavy.

“That? Oh, it was crushed by debris.” Mr. Error said. Killer winced in sympathy. That must’ve hurt badly. Not that being bashed in the face hard enough to crunch his skull wouldn’t hurt, but getting your hand crushed is a pain Killer could more easily relate to. “Any other questions?”

They could sit there all day asking about his scars, but Killer didn’t feel like bombarding the dude. And it seemed like the rest of the class agreed. Seeing that there were no other questions, Mr. Error moved on. Or should Killer call him Mr. Erratum? He wasn’t 100% sure.

“Alright… We’ll start with very simple things like how not to stab someone or yourself. We could try making easy things first like… maybe a blanket.” Mr. Erratum said. Killer raised his hand. “Yes?”

“Um… Do we need to bring the uh… sewing stuff? Yarn. Sorry.” Killer said, blushing. How did he forget the word for yarn?

“Oh…” Mr. Erratum blinked as if he hadn’t thought about that before. “No, I will bring stuff. Don’t worry about that.”

Killer nodded. There was no way that he’d be able to pay for things for class. Horror also smiled. He wouldn’t have been able to pay for materials either. Horror was in an even worse financial state than Killer. At least sometimes there was food in the fridge at home, but Horror pretty much relied on his friends for food.

The rest of the class was dedicated to Mr. Erratum showing them how to hold a needle and promising to bring more for them later. Killer was only half paying attention. What a weird teacher, what a weird class. At least it wasn’t going to be a boring class, that was for sure.

By lunch, Mr. Erratum was the source of all sorts of rumors and speculation. Killer had his own guesses, but his favorite conspiracy (purely because of how crazy it is) was the one that said Mr. Erratum was a government experiment that escaped the lab. In reality, he felt like he was just some tall, traumatized dude who had a lot of crazy stories to tell. He was weird, but not ‘escaped government experiment’ weird. Still, it was pretty funny. Killer couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Chapter Text

“What the FUCK did you do?!” Nightmare hissed. Ink was so caught off guard by their aggression. The whole group looked like they were ready to tear him apart if he said one thing wrong.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t even TRY to lie to me, I’ll know if you do, you sick bastard.” Nightmare said.

“Brother, calm down.” Dream said, hands up in surrender. “Please, just explain what happened, I am sure there is some misunderstanding!”

“Ask him what happened!” Nightmare shouted, shoving Ink towards Dream. “He’s gone! Error is fucking gone. I can’t sense his aura anymore, and there is only one person I can think of who’d kill him.”

Dream was quiet, a look of concentration on his face. Nightmare knew he was searching for Error’s aura as well, but he’d already done that a hundred times. Error was gone. And it was all this bastard’s fault.

“What did you do?” Dream asked Ink, looking truly disturbed and upset.

“Nothing! I didn’t touch him.” Ink said, looking between everyone here. “Dream, please, I swear on my life that I didn’t touch him. I haven’t seen him in weeks! I know we haven’t always got along, but I would never kill him, I promise!”

Everyone looked at Nightmare. With his arms crossed, Nightmare sighed. “He isn’t lying.”

He couldn’t feel Error’s presence anymore. Nothing could hide from Nightmare’s magic, meaning that he had to be dead. His soul ached as that realization came to him. Error was dead.

Should he have been a little nicer to Error? He ran off because they got into an argument. Or maybe he should’ve been harsher, forcing Error to stay. Sure, he would have to be the bad guy, but it would’ve kept him safe. Regardless, he failed. Whether he should’ve been harsher or nicer, it was too late now, he failed to protect someone he cared for and now had no one to blame but himself.

“Are you fucking me?” Killer exclaimed angrily. “Boss, you can’t just believe him like that! Who else would’ve done it?! That piece of shit has never given a fuck about anything Error had EVER done to protect us! Because he’s a fucking idiot.”

“I don’t detect any deception in his aura.” Nightmare said, his voice sounding defeated.

“That-… That can’t be true. Who else would’ve…” Killer was hurting. They all were. Nightmare could feel their sadness, fear, and anger. “Ok, even if he didn’t kill him, he’s still the one who fucked up Error’s wrist and leg. All because he’s… what? Dumb? Narcissistic? Either way, it’s still his fault Error suffered so much.”

“Why did you do it?” Cross asked Ink, speaking so suddenly it surprised Killer. Ink gave him a confused look. “The infection in the AUs. You never did anything to try and stop it and yet you beat the hell out of Error any time he tried to fix it.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Ink said. They all look at Nightmare, but Ink isn’t lying.

Killer starts laughing. “No fucking way. You actually are just that stupid! Un-fucking-believable.”

“I don’t know what you are-“

“It doesn’t matter.” Nightmare said. “You might not understand now, but you will.”

He turned to look at his boys. All of them were devastated, all of them were upset and on the verge of tears. It didn’t matter anymore if they started crying in front of the enemy. Soon enough, absolutely nothing would matter.

“What does that mean?” Dream asked, anxious.

“You’ll see.” Nightmare said. The world would inevitably come to an end because no one was there to take care of the infection anymore. “Come on, boys, let’s… let’s just go.”

With that, they left. It didn’t matter if Nightmare told them or not because inevitably, they would see. The universe was doomed unless Ink was able to fix the mess he created. And Nightmare didn’t intend on holding Ink’s hand and spoon-feeding him answers.

“Is… Is he really gone?” Killer asked. Nightmare just stared at him for a moment before nodding.

“I was just with him.” Horror said. “But now he’s just… dead?”

There was a general sense of shock and sadness. Nightmare wished he could describe the silence; it was different from normal silence. The quiet that loss leaves behind is a different beast, it is like everything is on mute.

All of them just sort of sat on the couch. Killer turned on some show, but no one seemed interested. He only did it to try and kill the silence. It was unbearable that despite the noise of the TV, it still felt so silent. The reality of their situation settled in slowly. All of them were going to die.

They had struggled and fought to get to this point, to the point where they had something worth living for. Nightmare felt like a failure. He cared for all of them, and now in failing Error, he failed everyone here too. Nothing could fix his mistakes, he couldn’t even look his boys in the eyes. One of their own died and it was his fault, how could he make eye contact with them ever again?

Nightmare didn’t want to let them out of his sight. He kept looking around every few minutes to count them all and make sure they were there. Not like it would matter soon enough.

-

Everyone was coping with the stress in different ways. Nightmare just seemed hopeless. An apology hung on his every breath, he had this look of dejection in his eyelight. Horror was terrified to be alone, he couldn’t even sleep alone. In response, Cross became his constant companion, trying to provide comfort where he could. It was the only way that Horror felt secure, and Cross liked being there for his friends. Meanwhile, Dust and Killer were coping differently.

A laugh came from Killer as he laid on the floor. He didn’t think he’d ever been this drunk before. Killer was only alone on the floor for a couple of seconds before Dust sat down with him.

He’d had a stash of alcohol for the longest time, only resorting to it when he felt the need to not be conscious. And at this point, there was nothing Killer wanted than to not be conscious. Drinking himself into a coma was always more fun with someone else, but especially with Dust. The other was so sexy when he let go of his pride.

Killer laid his head on Dust’s lap, watching Dust take another sip. They were both very drunk and only got drunker by the second. He made grabby hands for the bottle, but Dust lifted it out of his reach.

“You’re gonna die of alcohol poisoning.” Dust said.

“So what?” Killer whined drunkenly. “Never heard of a skeleton dyin’ of alcohol poisoning, and I wanna be the first one.”

“We still got time left.”

“Time for what?” Killer groaned. He covered his eye sockets with his arm. “I have wanted to die for a while now, but now we are here and I am realizing how much it sucks.”

Dust was quiet. He’d never heard Killer talk so honestly about his feelings before. He sets the bottle down next to them.

“Y’know… When Nightmare found me, I was boutta end it all.” Killer slurred. “I killed everyone. And one day, I realized I was worse than everyone I hated. So I decided to let the water at the garbage dump take me to my fate. But then Nightmare appeared behind me. Saved me. Gave me a purpose. And now that we are gonna die… I don’t know, I guess the inevitability takes the fun out of it.”

He quietly handed the bottle back to Killer, who proceeded to take the biggest drink so far. These walls were Dust’s source of consistency and security. The best moments of his life, at least more than half, happened while he was living here. The peeling wallpaper and old smell cocooned them as they got wasted together. All the happy and sad memories swirled together, dripping from every wall. Every scratch and dip that tattooed the walls felt like old friends.

“I am glad. Th-That you didn’t kill yourself.” Dust clarified. “I woulda never met you if you died back then.”

“Mhm. Never would’ve met any of you idiots. Never woulda met… Error.” Killer said. His frown grew stronger. “I hope he’s at peace. Do you think he knew how much I cared for him?”

“I am sure he did…”

Killer dropped his arm onto his chest, staring up at Dust. There was such sorrow in his eye sockets. Killer was the most gorgeous creature in the multiverse. Even while sad, Dust had never seen a prettier sight. He tried to imprint this image in his mind. Drunk and hopeless, and yet there was an undeniable beauty to his features. The multiverse was ending. But for some reason, Dust didn’t mind that thought as much as he should.

Dust took another drink. “What’s your biggest regret?” Dust asked. Killer laughed.

“God… where do I start?” Killer asked. “My whole life has been a series of regrets.”

“Ok… well… What’s something you don’t regret?”

Now Killer was left quietly thinking. Dust moved the bottle once again when Killer almost knocked it over. He looked away as he talked.

“I don’t regret meeting all of you. My life kinda sucked, but… at least I got to know you.” Killer said. “At least I got to be… I got to be by your side. Hey, even if we die soon, I will be ok as long as you're with me. Is that cheesy to say?”

“Yeah. Cheesy as hell.”

“I just don’t want to die alone…” Killer whispered.

It was quiet. Dust knew what that was like. He and Killer faced death a thousand times all alone in their respective AUs. The thought of not having to endure it alone again was… nice.

“What about you?” Killer asked. Dust hummed in confusion. “What regrets do you have?”

“Uh… A lot. Let’s think… um…” Dust looked around the room. His eyelights land on a picture on the wall, one of him and Killer. “Oh. There’s one.”

Killer looked over at the picture. He squinted at it, but because of the reflection of the light, he couldn’t see it. He wished he wasn’t so drunk, maybe he’d be able to remember which one that was.

“Can’t see it from my angle…”

“It’s that one picture of me and you. Remember that day when we went camping together for a mission? Just me and you by a lake.” Dust said.

“Oh, right. Wait, you regret that?”

“No, it’s one of the best trips of my life.” Dust said. “What I regret is the fact that I was going to ask to kiss you. You looked so… pretty. But I bitched out at the last minute and never asked. That’s a regret I think about a lot.”

Fuck, that felt so good to get off his chest. It was perfect. Just Killer and Dust and a simple mission. They messed around a lot, killing time as they waited by the lake. And that’s where Dust learned that Killer always looked good. No matter if he was smudged with dirt and half awake after sleeping for only three hours, he always looked pretty. In fact, Dust would argue that’s when he looked best.

Black tears smudged across his face, the dawn light making his eyelights more visible than normal. His face was soft and exhausted, expression candid as he glanced up at Dust from his sleeping bag. Dust wanted to kiss him so badly. He even had the perfect opportunity to ask for a kiss! But at that moment, he realized he couldn’t.

That kept him awake most nights. Sitting awake, imagining what would’ve happened if he had just asked. Would Killer be in his bed at that moment? Would he be allowed to kiss the mess from Killer’s face and hold his perfect body close to his own?

Killer hummed in thought, then he sat up. The movement surprised Dust and he pulled back a little. Killer, undeterred, sat in Dust’s lap. Dust felt his face heat up.

“So why don’t you ask me now? What do you have to lose?” Killer asked.

“You’re right.” Dust said. He swallowed back his fears, the alcohol was helping with that. “Killer… Can I kiss you?”

“Of course, you can,” Killer said.

They leaned in, kissing each other slowly and lovingly. Killer wrapped his arms around Dust like his life depended on it. Dust’s hands found Killer’s back as he rubbed his spine.

When they pulled away, Dust got a look at Killer’s eyelights. He didn’t often show them, but god were they beautiful. His soul pounded just at the sight of them.

Killer kissed him again, this time rougher and lustfully. Dust returned the favor, letting Killer push him to the ground. He pushed the bottle across the floor as far as he could so they didn’t knock it over. He felt Killer move to his neck and let out a shaky breath.

“Drunk sex is morally reprehensible.” Dust said.

“I couldn’t give less of a shit right now,” Killer says. He sits up. “Do you want this?”

“More than anything.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

Killer kissed him again. He didn’t care they were both drunk as shit, he didn’t care they were on the living room floor. Dust responded with his own passion, his own lust that had been repressed for so long.

Maybe it wasn’t the best place, maybe it wasn’t at the most appropriate of times, but they didn’t care. Dust couldn’t tell you how long he’d wanted this. But god, it was better than he had ever imagined that it could be.

“Fuck, I love you so much…” Killer gaped quietly, dropping to rest against Dust’s chest.

“I love you too.” Dust whispered. His hands moved to the back of Killer’s skull, a little worn out from their previous activity.

He closed his eye sockets for a moment, enjoying Killer’s warmth. Killer’s body temperature was always a little warmer than what Dust thought was normal, but especially now; just after their night of feverish passion.

Dust was still half convinced this was a dream. He drew soft circles on Killer’s back, squirming a little to get Killer’s attention. But it didn’t work. And then, he realized that Killer was breathing very deeply and slowly. “Killer?” He called softly, but the other didn’t respond. “Did you just fall asleep on me?”

Killer’s soft breath against his shoulder told him everything he needed to know. The other sighed fondly. He struggled to grab the edge of the blanket on the couch and dragged it off. Somehow, he managed to get the blanket over the two of them. He hummed contentedly in his sleep and snuggled into Dust’s neck.

“Can’t believe you fell asleep so quickly.” Dust teased lightly. The other didn’t respond. “You’re lucky you're cute.”

You’d be surprised how comfortable the floor was that night. Dust bunched up his discarded jacket as a pillow under his head and followed Killer into sleep. Sloppy drunk, indecently dressed, and covered in all sorts of things, Killer still looked gorgeous. That was Dust’s final thought as he slipped into unconsciousness.

-

The words from before always seemed to repeat in his head. An infection? Error had some kind of role in the spread of this infection. More specifically, he did some unspecified things to keep it under control.

Ink thought about this with such frequency that you could call it obsessive. But at this point, all the mysteries in the multiverse were either boring to him or had already been solved. And now with this new mystery, his mind was enchanted by it.

It was hard to keep his attention on one thing for any meaningful length of time. His sketchbook was full of half-made sketches, and half-made AUs floated around without purpose. Ink always tried to finish one AU before moving on to the next, but if he lost interest, he might start another AU that interests him. And then another, and another until he forgot about that initial AU entirely. This though? A confusing mystery? It definitely had his attention.

Dream was upset with him again. Ink didn’t even understand what he was doing to upset the guardian, but it kept happening. He was upset with Ink over this whole situation, but already said it’s not because he believes Ink killed Error.

For some reason, anything he did seemed to make Dream upset. Protecting AUs, despite the fact Dream also protects AUs, makes Dream upset. Creating AUs makes Dream upset. Especially depressing AUs. But Ink didn’t understand why. It’s a good story when there is turmoil and conflict! Yet all explaining that to Dream did was make him more upset. And now his interest in this was upsetting Dream.

“It’s just like everything else, isn’t it?” Dream said, exhausted and ready to give up entirely.

“No, I wouldn’t say so. Mystery is soooo rare! I am almost dreading solving this puzzle because then I’ll have to find some other thing to hold my attention.” Ink said with a laugh. Dream gave him this look that showed his disapproval.

“It isn’t some game! Someone died!”

“Of course, it’s not a game. Where in that statement did I say that it was a game?”

Dream sighed heavily and turned away from him. “I am tired of having this same conversation with you over and over.”

“I don’t even know what you're talking about. How is this similar to all the other random things you decide to get mad at me over?”

Now he had Dream’s attention. He looked a little hurt by the implication, but more than that he looked angry. “Because it’s the same thing over and over!” He shouted. “You don’t care that someone is dead, you don’t care that this situation led to so much pain and hurt. All you care about is the fact that this is more entertainment for yourself! Just like protecting AUs. You don’t do it because you think they are people deserving of being protected, you do it because it’s fun to you!”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t be allowed to have fun?” Ink asked, genuinely confused but getting more indignant by the second. “I thought you of all people would be glad that I had fun when we were going around and helping people.”

“That isn’t my point!” Dream shouted. Then he paused, closed his eye sockets, and took a breath. “I am glad you had fun. Blue has fun helping people. But it’s different because your intentions are different.”

But he still didn’t understand why Dream was upset. Was he saying it is a bad thing to do a good thing just because you want to? Why would anyone do anything if they don’t want to do it?

Seeing that Ink still didn’t understand, Dream sighed. “We’ve had this talk before. And honestly… I am just tired.” Dream said, anger leaving in a second. “As long as you fix this problem… That's- it’s a good thing.”

“Um… Alright. Well, I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah. Bye, Ink.”

“Bye.”

Ink couldn’t stop thinking about Dream’s words. He had no idea how he was supposed to feel. Was he supposed to be upset? Maybe sad. He didn’t know. But what he did know was that he didn’t like being alone.

Dream probably didn’t want to see him, so that was off the table. With a sigh, he decided to go sit in some AU while he tried to figure out what was even happening. Without much thought on where he was going, he teleported to some AU.

But the second he got there, he was snapped out of his thoughts. Everything was destroyed. And not in the same way that it would be if Error got to it. Everyone was still here, all the buildings were still here. But they were all glitched or warped.

All the colors were distorted, and some were completely inverted. Buildings that were once grey or black were now white and gold. Electric blue and patchy colors. People had collapsed on the ground, twitching and seizing with the pain of glitches tearing apart their code. Even the buildings themselves were glitching, their shapes changing and warping against the pitch-black sky. The black sky shifted to gold at some parts, unnaturally dark gold, and the sun was a black star streaking the sky with inky not-light.

Ink stood in shock for a couple of seconds. Everything was glitched and inverted, everything was warping and falling apart. An infection was spreading to anything it could.

-

Dust was sitting at the table, head pillowed in his arms. He couldn’t sleep, so he came out here for a drink or maybe a snack, then ended up just kind of sitting here in the dark. Over the last week, things had just been getting worse.

His delusions had been becoming extreme. As Dust’s mental health declined, he began believing that people were out to get him or his friends. And he knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t help it. It became more common to hallucinate too. Sometimes he’d be sitting alone in his room and hear someone call his name. He’d look around, ask around the castle, and find that no one was calling him. He’d hear doors slam or cries echoing down the hallway. But none of it was real.

Being severely unmedicated and undiagnosed for whatever the hell was wrong in his twisted little head, he had no choice but to just wait it out. There wasn’t anything his friends could do to help, there wasn’t anything he could do to help himself. And he knew it would only get worse and worse the closer they got to extinction.

Killer was the only one who made Dust feel better. He couldn’t stop Dust’s hallucinations and delusions, but he made Dust feel safe and that helped steadily improve his mental health. But recently, Killer started retreating into his room more and more.

Everyone was dealing with this situation, and isolation might be Killer’s reaction to all this. Because of that, Dust didn’t want to bother Killer. He was fine. He could handle this. And going through it alone seemed like a much better option than seeking out help. Or, not a better option, but the easier option.

When he heard someone walking into the kitchen, he looked up. Killer came into the kitchen. As if he was summoned by the power of Dust’s thoughts.

“Hey.” Dust said. Killer jumped a little.

“Jesus Christ! Are you sitting here in the dark?”

“Yup.” Dust said. Killer sighed quietly, rolling his eyelights playfully.

Now that the fright was settling down, Killer’s eyelights faded away, casting them both in relative darkness again. The only light came from the microwave’s clock and Dust’s eyelights. In the dim light, he could see that Killer was wearing an oversized and thick black shirt, one he’d only seen Killer wear in the winter because the castle could get icy.

“Are you cold?” Dust asked. Killer opened up the fridge, looking for some to eat. Silence stretched on for a minute or two. “Uh… Killer?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you were cold.”

“Oh, sorry,” Killer said, an awkward smile blooming on his face. “Yeah, a little. It’s kind of cold in my room, so…”

Killer seemed very distracted. Dust couldn’t blame him, a lot was going on right now. When Killer got some food, he sat down near Dust.

“I think the space heater is still in the closet. No one is using it right now, so…” Dust trailed off.

“Yeah, I could go grab it,” Killer said.

It was quiet again. Maybe Killer was just tired or something, but Dust couldn’t shake the feeling that Killer didn’t want to talk to him. Or maybe that was his delusions coming back. Should he just ask?

“Uh… Are you ok?” Dust asked instead. Maybe he could subtly get to his point instead of blatantly asking if Killer finally realized he was too good to be with Dust.

“Of course. Doing as well as someone can in this situation.” Killer said.

“It’s just… you seem a little annoyed.”

“Annoyed?” Killer blinked, snapping out of the weird daze he was in. “I could never be annoyed with you, Dust. I am sorry, I have just been in a weird mood lately. It has nothing to do with you, so don’t worry about it.”

Killer had always been good at reading them, reading in between the lines. Dust nodded, soothed by the knowledge Killer wasn’t upset with him. Of course, it was delusional to think his lover hated him just because he was being quiet tonight, but Dust couldn’t help it.

“How have you been?” Killer asked.

“Uh… You know… not great.” Dust said vaguely. For some reason, it felt awkward to bring up his hallucinations. “Been struggling a little.”

“Oh… I am so sorry.” Killer said. He must know what Dust left unsaid. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t know. Who knows how much time we even have left? I don’t think it matters too much anyway.” Dust said. It was true, and yet for some reason, Killer looked even more sad.

His shoulders slumped and he stared down at the table for a moment. “Yeah…” He said.

Quietly, Killer stood up and put his now empty plate in the sink. Dust stood up too. His legs were a little numb from sitting in such an awkward position for so long.

“Are you going to bed?” Dust asked. Killer nodded. Dust moved closer and kissed him on the forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight…” Killer said, head down so Dust could kiss him. Dust’s hand found Killer’s arm, gently rubbing the bone. He was about to hug Killer too, he knew how much Killer loved physical touch, but to his surprise, Killer backed away. “See you tomorrow.”

“Uh- yeah. Bye.” Dust said. Killer quickly retreated. It was weird that Killer refused a hug, but he did say he’d been in a weird mood recently.

He listened to Killer’s footsteps getting further and further until he was in his room. What now? Dust sighed, a big gust of air let out slowly.

Dust wandered out of the kitchen and down the hallway without any real direction. He stopped at Horror’s door and quietly opened it, peeking in. As he expected, Cross and Horror were sleeping in the bed, curled together under warm-colored blankets.

Closing the door, Dust was cast into darkness again, the soft golden light from Horror’s room enclosed behind the door again. Now that he stood in the dark hallway, he noticed a light from further down the hallway. It was shining under the door to Nightmare’s office. Was he still awake?

Dust crept close and knocked on the door. “Yes?” Nightmare called.

When he went into the office, the sudden light made him wince. Nightmare sat there behind his desk, he looked exhausted and the slump of his shoulders betrayed a deep sense of shame and misery. But he perked up a little when he saw Dust.

“Dust. How are you?” Nightmare asked.

“I am ok. I can’t sleep.” Dust said. Nightmare hummed and nodded. “What are you working on?”

“Everything and nothing.” Nightmare sighed. He closed the folder he was looking at and slid it to the side. “I am just trying to keep busy. Um… I was thinking… Should we have a funeral for Error?”

After everyone in Dust’s multiverse was dead, he held his own type of funeral. Just a candle he left lit outside of every door. It took so long, but it was the least he could do. The idea of leaving Error un-memorialized didn’t sit right with Dust.

“I think we should.” Dust said. “We don’t have his dust or anything but… I think it would be a good thing to do.”

“Maybe we could get something from his Anti-Void. I haven’t been there since… yeah.”

“You should go. I know Error was making a gift for you before he died.” Dust said.

“A gift?”

“Mhm. I don’t want to spoil what it is.” Dust said. “It may be half made, but at least it’s something.”

Nightmare nodded in agreement. “I’ll go then. Not right now though.” Now it was Dust’s turn to nod. “You should try to get some rest.”

“Ok… But could I stay in here?” Dust asked.

“Of course you can.”

There was a couch pressed against the wall that was specifically for them to use. Sometimes they sat there while getting details for a long or complex mission, but within recent years it was more so for when they didn’t want to be alone. Or when Nightmare didn’t want them out of his sight for one reason or another.

Dust sat down on it, his back to Nightmare to face the glass door and balcony outside. The forest was dark, it looked like all the trees were inky tar despite the thin splashes of pale moonlight. The sky was cloudy and moody, hiding the moon and ocean of stars.

He curled up, listening to the scratch of a pen and the creak of the old house settling. Knowing someone else was awake and in the room with him was nice. Relaxing, Dust let sleep claim him.

Chapter Text

Error had never had his own house before. He felt very small in this house purely because of how big and empty it was. It smelled old, which instantly soothed his soul, but it felt like too much for one person.

There was a kitchen, living room, hallway, and bathroom. There was also a closet that was a little too big to be a closet. In actuality, this house was significantly smaller than the mansion back home, but for some reason, he still felt small here. Even the bed was too big. Error could lay sideways in it perfectly. There was a fireplace in the bedroom but Error didn’t know how to light it even if he wanted to.

It was weird that some things seemed to have been left here and others were taken. The bookshelf and bed were still there, but the books and blankets were gone. Then again, Error had never packed up and moved to a new house, so maybe those were things you just left behind. Who knows?

Error sat there for a while, trying to get used to the new place. But after a while, he started to think that maybe getting out of the house would be better. Just for a while. Just to… oh! He needed to get yarn and needles for his students.

His house, in a strange way, reminded him of the Anti-Void. Big, lots of room, and empty except for a few things here and there. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been comforting to have a place that reminded him of the Anti-Void because Error always felt safe there. But as it was, the house made him feel homesick. Error shook off those thoughts, instead mentally turning his attention towards the store.

Wait, where would the store even be? All he had to do was go in and grab things, right? But what if he ran into people? What if he had to talk to strangers? Anxiety rose until he felt petrified.

“Oh. Hey there!” Someone said. Error looked over, on the verge of a crash, until he saw who it was. Geno waved at him in a friendly way.

“Hi.” Error said, smiling faintly.

“Did you just move in?” Geno asked. Error nodded. “Oh, cool. Well, I have been living over there pretty much since I was born.”

Error looked in the direction Geno pointed. It was the house just behind Kailani’s house. Error could easily walk over there if he wanted to.

“That’s good to know. I was just about to go to some kind of craft store for yarn and needles, but I…” Error trailed off, shuffling anxiously.

Geno nodded in understanding. Error seemed like a very anxious person, and Geno felt bad for him. “We can go together if it makes you feel more comfortable.” He said. Why not? It’s not like Geno was doing anything important right now.

“Really?” Error asked, metaphorical stars in his metaphorical eyes.

“Yeah, of course. I could drive us there too.” Geno said. Error nodded happily.

It was only now that Geno realized how much bigger Error was than him. Of course, he’d noticed the height difference, but it hadn’t been as painfully obvious as it was now that Error was sitting in his car.

He was now noticing the scars on his hands and peeking from under his sleeves. How was some of this stuff possible? There was a winding burn twisting around his wrist as if strings of lava had candy caned around the bones. How does someone even get hurt in that way? Unless it wasn’t an accident. Even in a fight that shouldn’t be possible. What if it was…?

“Thanks for driving me. I honestly have no idea where the craft store is.” Error said, snapping Geno out of his crazy hypothesizing.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I am usually a very anxious person too, I get how it is.” Geno said. It’s just the medicine he was on right now, it was making him very apathetic towards things, but Error caught him on a good day. That was incredibly fortunate.

“Yeah, I am just… I am not used to… I guess doing these things on my own? I had a friend who helped me before when I needed to do all these scary social things.” Error said. Geno laughed quietly.

“Things are easier to get through when you have a friend with you,” Geno said. “I don’t have a lot of friends, but I got a few good ones.”

Error related to that on so many levels. He felt calm now, maybe the motion of the car was helping him. He leaned against his hand, staring out the window.

“So… Fresh is your brother?”

“Uh… oh! Yes. I forgot he had your class.” Geno said. “Yes, he’s my brother. I hope he didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“No, he was very good.”

“Mm. Must’ve been too early for him.” Geno joked. “You might not see much more of him for a few days. He is going on a trip for some club he is a part of.”

Error hummed in acknowledgment. “Oh, we are here,” Geno said. Error perked up.

He got out of the car and followed close behind Geno like his shadow. It smelled nice inside the store, new wood and art supplies, and it was brightly lit. Error immediately located the yarn and sewing needles. He didn’t know how much he would need, but money wasn’t an issue so it didn’t matter as much.

“I don’t understand how you got your kids to be so interested in your class so quickly,” Geno said. Error looked over at him, confused. “I also have an elective class, and while I like world religions, most of the kids in my classes don’t give a shit about it. And because it’s an elective, it doesn’t affect their ability to graduate. How did you get them so interested in knitting?”

“Um… I don’t know. I was just honest and… I don’t know. Maybe they like me just because I am new.” Error said.

“That’s part of it,” Geno said. “But even when I was a new teacher, there weren’t kids gossiping about me in the hallways. Maybe they just find knitting more interesting? I don’t know.”

“I have never taken a world religions class. Is it interesting?” Error asked.

“Well, I think it’s interesting,” Geno said. He handed Error a basket seeing that Error was struggling to hold all the stuff he wanted to buy. “Religion is people’s way of explaining things they couldn’t comprehend at that time. Or to comfort themselves on the inevitability of death, especially in times of high mortality rates. But it’s also been used maliciously by cult leaders and tyrants to manipulate people into believing things that aren’t true through fear-mongering and empty promises. Like the Heaven’s Gate cult. I touch on cults in my class, but a lot of that stuff is a little too dark for a high school class. I only get into it in detail if most of the kids in my class are seniors.”

“I don’t know what ‘Heaven’s Gate’ is.”

“Well, maybe I can teach you if you promise to teach me how to sew,” Geno said with a smile.

“Deal.”

-

Usually, Horror smiled or hummed a tune while gardening. But in the wake of Error’s death, he handled the task with such solemnity. Cross frowned as he watched.

Cross sat down in the dirt with Horror, dirty clothes were the farthest thing from his mind. “What’s that one’s name?” He asked, pointing to the blueberry bush.

Horror hummed in confusion for a moment before blinking. Something sparkled in his eyelight as a hint of life returned. “Her name is Libbie.”

“Oh. Is it short for anything?”

“No. I just thought Libbie was a cute name.” Horror said.

“It is very cute.” Cross agreed.

Horror’s spirits seemed to lift as Cross asked questions about his garden. He told Cross how he decided to get certain plants or the struggles he went through to keep them alive and how he worried about them during intense storms. Cross nodded along, asking questions when he could to keep Horror’s mind off of all the gloom.

“Over here, we have Brooklyn, Joelle, and Sawyer.” Horror said.

“Lots of ladies.”

Horror laughed a little. “Yeah, I uh… I mainly have cute girls’ names.” He said. “I always wanted a daughter, but…”

“Oh…” Cross mumbled. Then, he hesitantly spoke again. “What would you have named her?”

“I like Wren or Wrenley.” Horror said. “I like wrens. They’re small and cute.”

“That’s an adorable name.” Cross smiled. “Um… What’s that one’s name?”

“That’s Charlie.”

They continued on their way, Horror naming them and explaining things as he pulled weeds from their roots and watered them. Cross followed along with Horror’s slow pace. But suddenly, Horror paused, jaw slack, then ran across the garden.

Cross hurried after him, watching Horror drop to his knees and reach for a flower. It was completely wilted, its petals were falling off. It would be easy to overlook and forget about this flower because of the unfortunate position it was in. He watched tears jump into Horror’s eye sockets.

He hugged Horror close as he cried over his place. “I am sorry…” Cross said, rubbing his spine. “I am so sorry…”

“I forgot about her.” Horror said quietly.

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s not your fault,” Cross said. “You did your best, I know you did.”

Horror slowly dried his eye sockets, staring down at his wilted flower. “I am sorry, I know you must think it’s silly to cry over a flower…” Horror mumbled.

“No, I get it. You put a lot of time and love into them.” Cross said. “And… a lot has been going on.”

So much had been happening, so much pain. This was probably just the nail in the coffin. Horror slowly stood up again.

“I’ll just have to do better… next time.” Horror said the last two words softly.

“Yeah…” Cross said. He patted Horror’s back once again. “I-I can help you plant something else.”

Horror smiled softly. “I’d like that.”

-

Error was still struggling with knowing what assignment to give his class. But when he presented the option of doing a scarf, pillow, or blanket, the class seemed more invested in the idea of a blanket. Or at least Amelia who quickly raised her hand and requested that’s what they focus on.

After that, the class became so easy to manage. He could make a blanket in his sleep and he was ready to teach others how to do it too. When he was alone in his Anti-Void, he’d talk out loud or in his mind and explain to an imaginary audience how to sew or crochet or cross stitch or whatever he was doing at the time. But now, that audience was real.

He explained it out loud and showed them how to do it. Some got to work immediately, but some looked a little confused. That’s why he started walking around the classroom and helping out.

“What are you drawing?” Error asked. Killer flinched and looked up at him. He noticed Killer gave him a confused look before turning back to his notebook to draw.

“Uh-… it’s uh…” Killer turned the book for Error to see. There was a dark tree with gnarly roots obscuring the foreground and framing a path through the woods. “It’s not done. I am just sketching.”

“Well, it looks good. I like the tree in the uh… foreground. I am pretty sure that’s what it’s called. Sorry, I don’t know much about art:” Error laughed apologetically. Killer smiled too. “About the sewing, did something in particular confuse you?”

“I guess just… holding the needle? I am scared I am gonna stab myself.” Killer said.

“I could show you again.” Error offered. Killer nodded and closed his notebook.

He had his needles on him, so that was easy to show, but he didn’t have any thread. Error coached Killer on how to hold the needle which Killer picked up on with more direct guidance. “And then how you attach the thread is like this.” Error said, reaching up and summoning his strings.

Killer winced, giving him a terrified look. “What the hell?!”

“What?” Error asked. Those sitting near Killer looked over.

“Th-The strings. Doesn’t that hurt?” Killer asked.

“Uh, no.” Error said. Not anymore. “It hurt a lot in the beginning, but now I am numb to it.”

Killer swallowed thickly and nodded. Error forgot that this was a strange thing for a skeleton to be able to do. He was so used to it back home, but he had to remember that he wasn’t home.

After he made sure that Killer understood, he went over to Dust. He had his head down on the desk, not moving. He was barely breathing.

“Dust?” He said. Dust looked up at him. “Are you alright?”

“What? Oh… Yeah, I am just really tired. Couldn’t sleep last night…” Dust said.

“Ok, well, you should probably set your needles down so they won’t stab you.” Error said. Dust nodded, quietly moving them out of the way. “Get some sleep, and I’ll wake you up when class ends.”

Dust looked confused for some reason, but nodded and set his head back down. Error moved on, making sure everyone was doing alright. Some kids had their headphones on and were working quietly, others just looked completely disinterested. Error just reminded those kids that there was a deadline for their projects but then let them be. He hated being forced to work when he wasn’t up to it, so he wouldn’t force literal children to work if they didn’t want to.

Blue raised his hand, and Error went over to his desk. “Is there any specific theme we need to do?”

“No, just make whatever you want.” Error said.

“Ok, and can we take the thread and stuff home?” Blue asked.

“Yes, just make sure you bring it back the next day.” Not like it was a big deal. Error wasn’t exactly struggling for money. Blue nodded.

Hate was sitting there staring down at his desk, looking very upset. He didn’t even look up when Error came over. “Are you ok?”

“I am fine.” He said, exasperated. There was a beat of silence. “Why did you get into sewing?”

“Well… I started because I needed to sew up any holes in my clothes. But then I realized how relaxing it was and started doing it in my free time.” Error said. Hate’s upset expression faded a little but his arms were still crossed. “I also like making little figures and stuff, but that’s a little advanced for now.”

“But isn’t it…” Hate trailed off. “Sewing is for girls.”

“Gender confuses me.” Error said, sighing. He never understood how hobbies and clothes are considered feminine. Who decided these things?

“Yeah? Well, people will hate you for things like this.” Hate said. “If my dad ever found out that I am taking a sewing class…”

Hate once again trailed off. He looked around suspiciously, but no one was looking at him. Error frowned.

“If you want, you can come in after class and I can help you.” Error said. Something like hope sparked in Hate’s eyelights.

“Really? Like, during lunch?”

“Yeah, sure.” Error said.

“Ok… Ok, I can do that.” Hate said.

The next person that Error helped was Vasco. One of the few humans he’d seen in the entire school. He was wearing some kind of anime shirt, but Error didn’t know which one.

“I was just looking for a different kind of blue?” Vasco said, a little unsure of himself. Almost everyone here seemed hesitant to talk to him for some reason. “This is light blue, but I don’t know if it works here…”

“What about this?” Error said, summoning his strings. This time, he only got a couple of nervous glances. “It’s more of an electric blue color.”

“I… I can use that? It’s not gonna hurt you?”

“Nah, as long as you don’t yank it as hard as you can or anything.” Error said. Even then, it would sting, but it wouldn’t hurt as much as people might think. “I can go buy electric blue thread later, but for now this will work.”

Vasco, still a little scared of hurting Error, just took barely enough. He was also scared to cut the thread as if it would hurt, but it didn’t. And when class finally ended, Error felt good. He didn’t know what he expected, but he thought being a teacher would be far more difficult.

“I am pretty sure my mom has sewing things,” Sunny said.

“Oh yeah, isn’t your family the richest people ever?” Killer teased lightly.

“Not ever,” Sunny said defensively.

“Your family is the one with a two-story house and a piano on your balcony, right?” Killer asked.

“Well… Yeah…”

“I can barely afford to buy a pizza, let alone a two-story house,” Killer said. Sunny looked a little awkward, instead focusing on smoothing down her fur. “Hey, it’s ok to be rich. I have just never even been in a big ass house like that.”

“Well, you can come over. Maybe we could help each other sew.” She said, gesturing to Killer’s blanket. He was further ahead than she was.

“Oh! That sounds great. What if we all get together to help each other?” Killer suggested. He and Sunny were friends before middle school, but they tended to drift in and out of friendship.

“Sounds good.”

“Can the others come too?”

“Uh… I am sure my parents wouldn’t mind.”

“Great! I am sure that means all my friends can come too, right?” Sunny sighed and nodded. “Yes!”

“Alright, cool. I will make snacks then.” Sunny said.

Honestly, any excuse to not go home was good for Killer. And to work on his sewing AND getting free food? He was in.

After that, the bell rang and people started leaving. Killer wondered how much work would actually happen, in all likelihood it would probably be snacking and chatting. But he liked the idea. Just getting together, hanging out, and maybe helping each other out with their projects.

Error sighed in relief when he was alone in class again. Teaching wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be, but he still preferred to be alone when he had the chance. His new house was great for that. He could be alone when he wanted to and all he had to do was step outside to be in the company of friends.

He sat down on his chair just to regain himself. So much has happened, he could only imagine how much has happened back home. What if time moved differently here than there? He knew that was something that happened between AUs back home. That’s how Reaper could still have a personal life despite the fact people die every minute.

As if summoned by the power of Error’s thoughts, Reaper knocked on the doorframe. Error stared for a moment, trying to figure out why Reaper was here, before realizing it was this multiverse’s version of Reaper. The other skeleton gave a little wave.

“Hey, I am Reaper. I am the anatomy teacher.” Reaper said. “Geno was talking about how you made quite the impression on him, so I wanted to meet you.”

“Uh… A good impression or a bad one?” Error asked.

“Mm. He said you were a bit strange, but there’s nothing wrong with being a little weird.” Reaper said. Well, it was good that Error didn’t completely freak out Geno. “Are you used to the school’s layout yet?”

“I haven’t explored much.” Error said awkwardly.

“Well, I could show you around.” Reaper offered.

“Thank you.”

Reaper took him around the school. Error tried to commit everything to memory, but his memory was garbage. The cafeteria, the first-floor and second-floor bathrooms, the gym, the locker rooms, the labs, all of it swirled around in his head. How did students learn where everything was?

When they started heading back, they paused because Reaper saw something. Neither were hurried so the slow pace was normal, but when Reaper stopped Error did too. The other was staring at a dark bird not too far away. Reaper smiled.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Reaper asked.

“Um… I don’t know, maybe a koi fish.” Error said. He didn’t like a lot of animals either because they gave him trouble in some AUs or because the idea of getting crawled all over by something that’s constantly begging for attention stressed him out. But koi fish were very calming to him. He remembered pointing them out to Nightmare and getting an info dump about them.

“I like crows. Or… ravens. Either one.” Reaper said. “It takes a lot to befriend them, but once you do, it’s worth it.”

“Oh… How would you befriend a crow?” Error asked. “They always run away when I get close. Or- fly away, sorry.”

Reaper laughed faintly. Error blushed, but the other just brushed past his mess up. “Well, if you want to befriend one, you can’t just walk right up to them. Get as close as they’ll let you and offer them food. It’ll take time for them to trust you, but slowly they’ll get closer and closer. I can tell them apart now because I hang out with so many.”

Error hummed in thought. “So, who is that?” He asked, gesturing to the crow.

“I don’t know, that’s not one of mine,” Reaper said. He shrugged and continued on his way. “They usually hang around my house.”

“Oh, I just assumed you did because you brought it up.” Error said, following him.

“No, I was just explaining why they are my favorite animal. I like them because… Do you know the argument about whether dogs or cats are better?” Reaper asked. Error nodded. “Not that there's anything wrong with dogs, but I like cats. For the same reason I like crows; you need to earn their trust. For most dogs, you can just walk up to them and they’ll wag their tails and let you pet them, which is sweet, but less rewarding than proving that you are someone they can trust and working to keep that trust.”

“I have never thought about it like that…” Error said. “You might just be overthinking things.”

Reaper laughed. “Maybe so. I tend to do that.”

With the whole school being thoroughly toured, they started heading back to Error’s classroom. “I only have three classes.” Error said. “Most of them are at the end of the day.”

“I have four classes. Anatomy is an elective, so I only really have artists and future doctors in my class.” Reaper said.

“Lots of kids in my class seem like artists of some kind.” Error said. “Or at least they appreciate art. One kid in my class seems to be always reading and another one is always just sitting there drawing.”

“Oh… I don’t know why, but it caught me off guard to hear you call books art.” Reaper said.

“Isn’t it?”

“No, it is. But most people tend to forget that.” Reaper said. “My mom was an author, but she said that calling herself an artist felt like ‘a step too far’.”

Error hummed in acknowledgment. Lots of people here seemed to like reading. Maybe he should get a new pair of glasses and try reading again.

“I’d love to chat all day, but I want to check on Geno. He seemed down this morning.” Reaper said.

“Alright. I have a kid coming in for lunch to work on stuff.” Error said. “It was nice to hang out with you.”

“You too. See ya.”

“Bye.”

Error wasn’t waiting in his classroom for long before Hate showed up. He still seemed a little nervous, but he was significantly calmer now. He went through the basics again and Hate picked up on it easily.

“Can I listen to music while I work?” Hate asked.

“Yeah go ahead.” Error said. “Just tell me if you have any questions.”

But Hate didn’t talk again for the rest of lunch. He sat there working diligently on his blanket project. It was honestly strange to see, he acted completely differently when he was alone as opposed to when he was in class. Error still didn’t understand exactly why he was so self-conscious about knitting, but he wasn’t going to ask. As long as Hate did what was best for himself, he was satisfied.

-

As Killer expected, not many people showed up at Sunny’s house. It was him, Sunny (of course), Cross, Dust, Horror, Tella, and one of their other classmates, Faina. Killer was pretty sure Faina and Sunny were friends, and Tella’s grandmother would insist she came here today if she knew about it so that also made sense.

“This is your house?” Killer asked, jaw practically on the perfectly maintained white marble floor. The walls were high and a delicate yet modern chandelier hung above the foyer.

“Yeah,” Sunny said. “My little brothers are still here, but they’re busy with a new video game so they should leave us alone.”

“Can we work on the balcony?” Horror asked. He’d never seen a house with a balcony before. Except in movies.

“Yeah, of course. It’s just this way.”

Calling it a balcony was an understatement. It was so big they had a piano, telescope, and table and still had room! Killer was so overwhelmed by all of this, by seeing how other people lived. He and his dad shared a bedroom and had two twin beds. One bedroom, one bathroom.

Killer sat down at the table and was quickly joined by his friends. He took his knitting things from his backpack, staring down at it for a moment to try and remember what he was doing. Dust and Tella were doing the same.

“Do you play piano?” Horror asked Sunny.

“Mhm. I started taking lessons as a kid and so they bought me this piano to practice at home.” She said. Horror stared at the piano, hesitantly pressing one key like he’d get in trouble. “I am not that good yet-“

“Can you play Rush E?” Killer asked.

“I was just practicing Rush E last night,” Sunny said, laughing a little. “I can show you, but I need to work on my blanket, so I can’t mess around for long.”

She sat down at the piano bench and started playing the song. Killer started working, but he had to put lots of effort into it which scrambled his mind. Instead, he glanced up at Tella. Maybe he should start up some conversation.

“What’s your blanket’s theme?” Killer asked. Tella glanced at him.

“I don’t know. I was gonna make a white blanket and then add patches and designs and stuff.” She said. Killer nodded. “Uh… what about you?”

“No clue. Maybe I’ll… uh… I want to do something with my pride flag.” Killer said. “I am just kind of starting with a black base.”

“Maybe you could- m-… maybe… R-Rainbows but use the gay flag colors.” She stuttered, shaking her head as if to clear mental fog.

“I might do that. The blues and greens would look nice.” Killer said. Tella nodded.

“Sorry, talking hurts.” She said.

“No, don’t worry,” Killer said. “Um… you don’t have to answer, but I was wondering what happened to you? Last I heard, you were moving in with your dad across the city.”

Tella stared at the table for a moment. “I don’t have a car so I had to walk. Decided to go to my grandma’s house and I was attacked by a group of stray dogs.”

“Oh my fucking god, I am so sorry,” Killer said.

“I don’t remember it,” Tella said. “I should’ve told you earlier, I just…”

“No, it’s ok,” Killer said. “I wouldn’t be that talkative after something like that.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Tella said.

“Hey!”

With snacks and varying amounts of ‘hard working’, this was probably the best idea. Horror seemed far more interested in the snacks and the random ‘rich people’ things that were around. He was looking through the telescope, messing with the piano, and the massive TV they had on full display behind the sliding glass door. Dust was mainly focused on sewing, same with Tella, but Faina and Killer were chatting up a storm. Sunny was trying to keep everyone at least a little bit on task, but it wasn’t as successful as she would’ve hoped.

But it was fun. Killer never had this much fun on a school project. So naturally, after everyone agreed it was probably time to head home, they also agreed to go to Faina’s house next week to do the same thing.

What Killer didn’t expect was for Faina to tell her friends in sewing class how fun it was, making all of them come over next time too. Not that he was complaining, he just didn’t expect so many people to show up! And yes, most of them were just here for free snacks or for the sake of hanging out with friends, a good handful of them were chatting or watching movies while working on their projects.

Where they met up every week changed. Sometimes it was Vasco’s house, or Sunny’s, or Cross’s, or Killer’s house, or whoever was willing. But next time, it would be Dust’s responsibility to host their sewing party. Unlike everyone else, Dust was sort of voluntold to host the party. Dust had been to every single one, but never offered to host. So, very hesitantly, Dust agreed. He had the whole week to prepare, which Killer reminded him of, but that didn’t seem to ease his worries at all. Maybe his house was just messy? Regardless, Killer couldn’t wait for next week’s sewing party.

-

Ink, if he had hair, would be pulling it out. He couldn’t figure out why AUs were corrupting, but he couldn’t put much effort into finding out either. The reason why wasn’t as important as saving the people he could.

Even with Dream, Blue, and many volunteers, hundreds of people were lost per day. Dream and Blue worked until they dropped. Ink on the other hand did as much as he could before devoting the rest of his energy to try and figure out what was happening. Was it specific AUs? What were the common threads between these AUs? So far, it seemed like the only commonality was being close to each other.

It was terrifying. He’d sit there and watch normal, healthy-looking code corrupt and collapse for seemingly no reason. Even if he manually fixed it, which was very difficult, it corrupted itself again within minutes.

They tried to save people who’d already been corrupted. They took them to a non-corrupted AU and did what they could for those people. But it didn’t work. All they could do was try to keep them calm as their code fell apart. It was tragic.

At first, they’d only experienced slight vocal tics, then their colors distort, and then parts of their body begin to glitch, and then the pain sets in. They’d seen hundreds of these people slowly die, crying and screaming and begging and clawing at their faces. ‘I don’t want to die!’ Shouted through a glitchy and essentially useless voice. Eventually, volunteers just started mercy-killing the sufferers.

And that’s when Ink understood. Killing the infected AUs, destroying them before they could spread, that’s what Error was doing. That’s how he kept it in check for so long.

But they couldn’t do that. Even if Ink wanted to, he couldn’t destroy code on his own. And even if he could, Dream and Blue would never forgive him if he did that.

So they struggled through it. Eventually, they started evacuating AUs that were next to be hit. They learned that if the people weren’t in the AUs as they were corrupted, they wouldn’t be affected.

Volunteers focused on evacuating AUs while Ink desperately fixed every scrap of code he could to slow the infection. It was like filling a bathtub with a shot glass, but it was all they could do. The multiverse was dying, and Error was the only one who could’ve saved them.

-

It was just after class when Geno was getting ready for the next one. The symptoms came on so quickly and he struggled through class like that. Right when that class left, his vision began to blur along with his aching soul. Geno had medicine on him, but the pills he had taken weren’t strong enough. That was a strong indication he was starting to have an attack.

Geno cleared the board, breathing slowly through his nose and then out through his mouth. It felt like someone had a grip on his soul. Any time his soul pulsed, it was like it was straining against a metal ring snapped around it. Time felt like it was screeching to a halt.

He coughed, hearing the telltale rattle before the tang of blood and determination entered his mouth. Geno sat down, closing his eye sockets. In, out. Slow breaths. It didn’t help much, but it took the edge off the pain. He needed to get his medicine from home, but with Fresh out of town, no one could hurry home and get it.

“Hello?” Someone called, knocking on the doorframe. Geno glanced up at them. It was Reaper. Because of course it was. “Don’t look so happy, Geno.” Reaper laughed.

Reaper was here. Geno felt a bloom of warmth in his aching soul. It was clear that Reaper had an interest in him. There was always such warmth on Reaper’s face when he looked at Geno. And Geno would be lying if he said there wasn’t warmth he felt for Reaper too. But he’d never say that out loud.

“What do you want?” Geno asked.

“Well, I don’t have any more classes for today, so I wanted to hang out before your next one,” Reaper said.

“You don’t have any more classes?”

“Yeah. Why?” Reaper asked. Geno hesitated. He could ask Reaper to go get his medicine, but he didn’t like asking for help. After a moment, he sighed and caved in.

“I was just wondering if you would go get me my medicine?” Geno asked. The concern on Reaper’s face bloomed.

Could you blame him? Shortly after they started talking, Geno had a full-blown attack in front of Reaper. It was a bad one too; Geno was locked up in the hospital for days. Usually, when potential love interests came along, they were frightened off when they learned Geno was sick. Geno expected the same thing with Reaper.

And yet Reaper was still here.

“Did you not bring it with you?” Reaper asked, concern in his voice.

“No, I did. But I have different medicine I need for attacks.” Geno said.

“Shit. Yeah, I will get it.” Reaper said quickly. Geno grabbed his keys and tossed them to Reaper. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah, ok.”

Reaper left the room, leaving the room in complete silence. Geno dropped his head to the desk, feeling worse and worse by the second. Why did Reaper stick around?

He remembered how scared Reaper had been for him when he started having an attack. Geno was on the floor in agony, clenching at his soul. After Reaper called an ambulance, he sat next to Geno and tried desperately to provide Geno with comfort. The whole time he patted Geno’s back and reassured him that help was on the way.

But that wasn’t surprising. In the moment, people did whatever they felt was best. But after days of calming down and realizing what a train wreck Geno is, all the others left.

And yet Reaper messaged him the day he got out of the hospital, asking if he was alright and playfully flirting. It was nice. Unexpected and weird, but nice. Geno didn’t understand it; Reaper had every right to leave. It was only a matter of time before Geno’s sickness got the best of him.

“I am back,” Reaper said. Geno lifted his head, beads of sweat pouring down his skull.

Reaper sits next to him, taking two pills from the bottle then hands a water bottle to Geno. God, he hated these pills so much. Miserably, he took his medicine.

“How long should those take to kick in?” Reaper asked.

“Not long,” Geno said. “But these pills knock me out, so…”

Reaper hummed in acknowledgment. “Well then… We should get you home.”

Geno sighed. “I feel bad. The sub always has to cover for me.”

“So what? You need to rest, and that’s why the sub gets paid.” Reaper said. “It’s a win-win.”

That wasn’t Geno’s point. He hated the fact he needed to be gone so much. They weren’t even a month into the school and he was already having to go home early. It was the fact he missed out on so much of his life because he had to worry about his illness getting to him.

“Ready to go?” Reaper asked. Geno sighed.

“Fine,” Geno said. Reaper smiled, glad he got his way.

“I’ll tell Toby you need to go home. But for now, let’s get moving.”

Miserably, Geno stared out the car window as they drove. Pretty much the second they started driving, a deep exhaustion hit him. He hardly even realized it, but his pain eased up. All that was left now was an exhaustion so intense that he could barely keep his eye sockets open.

“Feeling any better?” Reaper asked.

“Huh? Oh… I am… yeah, I am ok.” Geno said, struggling to form words. It was unfortunate that Reaper had to be right about Geno needing to go home; Reaper was going to bring this up any time this happened in the future.

“That’s good.”

Geno covered his eye sockets, groaning. “I'm so tired.” He mumbled.

“Almost there,” Reaper said.

Just like Reaper said, they were there in a few minutes. Geno was barely functioning by the time Reaper unlocked the door to let them in. Reaper guided Geno to his bedroom.

Geno tipped dangerously to one side and Reaper was quick to catch and stabilize him. The house had no lights on except for the kitchen and living room lights which Reaper had left on in his rush to get Geno’s meds. There was a thin white cabinet squished into the corner of the living room, that’s where Reaper found the medicine bottle. Along with all different kinds of medicine, there were folders stuffed with papers and other medical things.

The whole house was a nice blue color from the paint on the walls to the curtains. The living room had a doorway to the kitchen and then another doorway to a hallway. Down that hallway were two bedroom doors and the bathroom door. Reaper wasn’t sure which door was Geno’s, but luckily Geno was conscious enough to go there on his own.

Books lined the shelves, and homework from his students sat on his dresser. Reaper only took a moment looking around, and yet Geno already made his way to the bed and sat down like he intended to never get up again.

“Do you need anything else?” Reaper asked. Geno looked at his blankets, trying to remember how his arms worked.

“I’m ok…” Geno muttered. “Why are you so nice to me? Don’t understand…”

Reaper laughed quietly and took Geno’s glasses when he laid down. He folded up the legs of the glasses and set them on the dresser. Geno was so tired that his mind wasn’t working properly, but still, Reaper found it cute.

“You’re easy to be nice to I guess,” Reaper said.

Geno’s face wrinkled up in either confusion or disapproval. “You’re just setting yourself up for heartache.” He said, voice getting quieter and quieter. Reaper frowned. “It’s only a matter of time before… before uh… and it just um… it makes me think sometimes… What's the point?”

“Get some rest, Geno,” Reaper said, quieter than he expected. Geno’s eye sockets closed, and he fell asleep in seconds.

He didn’t like the wording that Geno used. ‘Setting yourself up for heartache?’ ‘What’s the point?’

Reaper knew it was possible that Geno could just die one day. Maybe out of the blue, or maybe it’d be a slow decline of health until he died. But he cared for Geno. He loved hearing him rant about religion and cults and all those morbid things that Geno managed to make sound so intriguing. Geno was smarter than anyone Reaper had met before, and his deadpan humor never failed to make Reaper laugh even on his worst days. He was so strong, most people wouldn’t have been able to put up with half as much bullshit, and his passion for the people in his life was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as Geno himself was.

So to hear Geno talk about his death like that was upsetting. ‘What’s the point?’ Geno had said. It made Reaper think…; why didn’t Geno keep the medicine he needed for attacks on hand?

Suddenly, Reaper didn’t like the idea of leaving Geno alone while Fresh was gone. He’d stayed over at Geno’s house before, surely the other wouldn’t mind if he stuck around for a day or two. Reaper left Geno to sleep and retreated to the living room instead.

-

Dust had no idea where his dad went and that might be a blessing for what today would hold. The inside of the house was very dark and gloomy, the curtains were pulled over the windows, and they’d been like that for weeks. Despite the dark, he made his way through the house easily; stepping around and over messes that had been left on the floor.

He paused for just a moment in the living room. His mom was asleep on the couch, her crucifix was clutched weakly in her hand and her face smudged with tears. She hardly ever stopped crying unless she was asleep. Quietly, he unlocked the door and stepped outside.

It wasn’t too long of a wait by the sidewalk that Killer and Cross showed up. Like always, Killer hugged him the moment he was close enough to do so. “Dust! Man, you look like shit,” Killer said.

“Thanks, I guess.” Dust said.

“You should take better care of yourself. When was the last time you slept?” Killer asked, fussing over him in a very motherly way.

“It’s whatever.” Dust said, trying to pull away from Killer’s hand as he fixed his shirt and the smudges on his face. “Stop manhandling me.”

“I am not ‘manhandling’ you.” Killer scoffed but backed off. “You know I worry about you.”

“Yeah, I know, you make that perfectly clear.” Dust huffed. Then, he turned to Cross and gave him a one-armed hug. “Hey, Cross. I hope Killer hasn’t been giving you too much trouble.”

“No, he’s a pretty good house guest surprisingly,” Cross said. Killer put a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“Wow, ‘surprisingly’ I see how it is,” Killer said, not seriously. Cross laughed, and Dust cracked a smile. “Anyways, let’s just go get ready for everyone else.”

Not too far behind Dust’s house was a set of picnic tables. It was far enough from the road that it was peaceful, but not too far that the walk was a chore. Dust took a seat at one of the tables and the other two followed.

As more people showed up, they sat at that table as well or the one right next to it. It was crazy how many people were there. The only ones who didn’t show up today were Yasmina (she had to take her grandfather to a doctor’s appointment) and of course Hate. Of all the ones that they did, Hate only showed up to one and he just sat in the corner and refused to talk to anyone. The next day, Hate was in an even worse mood than normal and nearly got suspended.

“Graham! It’s so good to see you. I started reading that book you recommended.” Killer said. Graham smiled, his tail wagging.

“Really? Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s a pretty simple concept, but I feel like the author made it work.” Killer said.

Killer and Graham have really hit it off. Graham was the youngest monster here, (probably the youngest even with the humans? Dust wasn’t sure, he was really bad at estimating the ages of humans) and the one who liked Killer’s affectionate behavior the best. Or at least tolerated it the most. But more than that, they had a connection because of their family life.

Dust glanced over and saw that Amelia was way further ahead than any one of them. She looked focused, she occasionally piped up in the conversation, but for the most part, she was working hard on completing her blanket. He looked down at his blanket, realizing he should probably take it more seriously.

“How about we go to some restaurant after this?” Killer suggested. Horror nodded happily, but Graham frowned.

“I don’t have money,” Graham said.

“Killer will pay for us.” Horror said. Graham looked over at Killer, looking for confirmation.

“Absolutely! I only got a job so I can feed myself and anyone else who can’t feed themselves.” Killer said. “Just don’t choose any place too expensive.”

“Can we stay at your place tonight?” Horror asked.

“Of course.” Killer smiled. “As long as Graham’s parents won’t mind.”

“I can call them,” Graham said. “But I probably won’t be able to come over until tomorrow night…”

“Beware though, if we spend the night at Killer’s house, he’s gonna make us watch RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Horror said. “I am pretty sure it’s the reason he decided to take this class in the first place.”

“Shhh!” Killer hushed.

“I have never seen RuPaul’s Drag Race, but I have heard some things about it,” Graham said. Killer gasped like it was the most shocking thing ever.

“Oh no…” Horror said.

“Oh yes! I get to show someone my favorite reality TV show!” Killer cheered. “You ever heard of a drag queen before?”

“Uh… maybe? I don’t know.” Graham said.

Dust rolled his eyelights playfully and tuned out his friends. Instead, he let their chatter fill the background noise as he focused on what he was doing. He didn’t really have a motive for making this blanket, he didn’t have inspiration.

Horror uses mainly warm colors and bright happy things. Orange, pink, and flowers. Killer’s was primarily black with rainbows but instead of the normal rainbow colors, it was various shades of blue. (Aka, the gay flag colors.) But Dust didn’t have that kind of inspiration. He was just working on the border so far.

For a moment, he let his mind wander which ended up getting his finger pricked. Dust hissed in pain and shook his hand off like it would help. Amelia backed up a little bit, startled by the sudden movement.

“Are you okay?” Amelia asked.

“Yeah, I just got myself really good.” Dust said. He sighed. “How are you almost done with your blanket? I am struggling so much.”

“With what exactly? I could help you.” She said, scooting closer to see.

“Not with sewing, but with… my inspiration is nonexistent.” Dust admitted.

“I see… Well, my inspiration is my grandma.” Amelia said. Dust glanced over at the meerkat monster. “In our culture, quilting is very important, it’s very… it’s very traditional that the women of the family can at least stitch, but way back in the past our quilts and blankets were made to portray messages and silent communication and stuff.”

“Oh… I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, It was like 300 years ago.” Amelia laughed. “But still, my grandma is big on sewing but… her eyesight only gets worse and worse so she can’t teach me. My mom is always busy, so yeah. I was thinking that if I showed her I could do it too, she’d be so happy.”

“That’s sweet.” Dust said. He barely knew his grandmother before she died.

“So maybe you can make yours as a gift for a friend or family member too,” Amelia suggested.

That got Dust thinking. He didn’t want to be anywhere near his dad right now, so that was off the table. His mom was always sleeping on the couch, so maybe she could use a blanket. But he knew who he truly wanted to dedicate his blanket to.

Now with a new inspiration, he focused on his blanket. As he got into the rhythm of sewing, he focused back on the conversation. Horror, Killer, and Graham weren’t doing much sewing.

“Whoa… Ok, so, would you ever do drag?” Graham asked. Killer scoffed.

“Absolutely not. I have no self-confidence.” Killer said. Cross hummed, unsure.

“I don’t know, I think you could do it,” Cross said. Killer scoffed and threw a scrap of fabric at him.

“Bitch, you’re on the cheer team and you're hot as hell. Of course, you think it’d be easy.” Killer said.

“I never said it would be easy,” Cross said, tossing the fabric back at Killer. “I am terrified any time I need to perform, I get it, I am not some social butterfly. But performing is easier than you might think when you truly get in character. Plus, you’re hotter than you think.”

“Uh… Sorry to interrupt, but… I mean, you both look a little similar?” Graham said.

“First of all, that’s a little racist,” Killer said, not sounding upset. But still, Graham threw his hands over his mouth like he messed up terribly.

“I am so sorry!”

“Nah, don’t sweat it. I just wouldn’t say it again.” Killer said. Graham nodded vigorously. “And also, you know I am not like… well- I uh… Fuck it, I am just gonna say it; we both know you’re full of shit. I am not that hot.”

“If you can’t love yourself, how the hell are you going to love someone else?” Cross said, trying to suppress a smile.

Killer dropped his half-made blanket and gave Cross a truly shocked look. “Did you just quote RuPaul’s Drag Race at me?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Cross said, fully smirking now.

“You know what? Fuck it. I’ll try it once. But if I completely bomb, you owe me.” Killer said, face red as hell.

“Of course,” Cross said, smirk smoothing into a smile. That was the same thing Killer said to Cross when Cross was on the fence about trying out for cheer. ‘If you bomb, I’ll owe you.’

“Oh fuck, I should get working,” Killer said.

“You have just been lore-dumping about drag and reality TV for the whole sewing session.” Dust said.

“Can’t help it, I am a gaspy bitch sometimes,” Killer said. Dust couldn’t help but laugh, facepalming.

Of all the sewing sessions, this was one of the more productive ones. Considering they weren’t marveling at someone’s extravagant house or watching TV or something, Dust got a good amount of his blanket done. He was disappointed when everyone had to leave because that would mean he’d have to go back home again. Still, he waved at all of them goodbye and watched them walk away or back to their cars.

Dust turned and looked back at his house and felt dread. Maybe he’ll just stay out here for a while longer. He retreated to the picnic tables to keep making his blanket.

-

“What are you working on?” Error asked, stopping next to Graham’s desk. He had a book open on his left and was writing on a piece of printer paper on the right. Graham looked up at him quickly, like he was snapped out of some kind of trance.

“Oh! Uh… Well, I am writing a uh… book review.” Graham said, as if embarrassed.

“Which book?”

“I was reading… Blood Meridian. It’s a dark historical fiction novel.” Graham explained. “It’s a more fanciful recounting of a man’s life. He was part of a gang called The Glanton Gang just after the Mexican-American war. The actual person wrote a book about his life, then years later it was rewritten to be more fanciful and with some biblical references and allusions. A-And the ending is different.”

Error blinked slowly before a smile bloomed across his face. That reminded him so much of Nightmare. He’d ask something simple like ‘What’s the title of the book?’ then get a lore dump about the book and its origins.

“I see. Who’s your favorite character?”

“Blood Meridian isn’t one of those books where you have a… favorite character. All of them are pretty bad people. I guess… I guess it would be the main character, he’s just called The Kid, but he has such dry humor that it makes me laugh. Also, he’s the least morally bankrupt character.” Graham explained. “I mean, he’s still killing and scalping people and stealing… but he also has been shown to have some kind of morals.”

His smile couldn’t be contained. As Graham talked he looked into space as if truly entranced by the book. God, Error missed hearing people info dump about things he’s never heard of before. It was nostalgic despite the relatively short amount of time it had been. Or maybe it was homesickness.

“Is it for a school assignment?” Error asked.

“Uh… No.” Graham smiled awkwardly. “I uh… I do it for fun. And uh… I make… videos? Just going over books and what I think about them.”

“Oh.” Error said. How the hell do you make videos? He shook off that thought. “Well, I am glad you found something you like. I didn’t even know people make book review videos.”

All the videos Killer showed him were ‘memes’, which usually involved weird images with relatable text with music playing in the background or a video of someone getting hurt funnily. Or saying something silly. Error knew other videos existed, but he hadn’t seen many.

“I only have twenty people who watch my videos.” Graham laughed, almost apologetically.

“I’d feel pretty good if twenty people were willing to listen to things I like talking about.” Error said. Graham’s face changed, smiling brightly again as his tail wagged happily. It smacked against the back of the chair with a rhythmic thump.

“Wow, I didn’t think of it like that,” Graham said. “Thank you!”

Error blinked in confusion. Why was he being thanked? “No problem.” He said, a bit dumbfounded.

At that moment, he saw Amelia raise her hand. Error had more or less figured out that they do that when they have a question or request. It was still very confusing, but he just accepted it and moved on with trying to understand more important confusing things.

“Are we allowed to keep the blankets after you grade them?” Amelia asked. Oh god, Error forgot to figure out how you ‘grade’ assignments! Fuck, he had so many opportunities to ask!

“Uh, yes.” Error said, hoping he didn’t just fuck himself over.

With that, Error went back to checking on his students to make sure they were alright. He learned so much about them so quickly. He learned their music tastes and what podcasts they were listening to, what their favorite colors were, and why they might need extra time on assignments. Some had cheerleading or other school activities, some had jobs, and some had family responsibilities.

Error liked being a teacher.

That’s something he never thought he’d enjoy, but he did. He liked teaching people, he liked learning about them and in turn things he didn’t know about this world. Some were more chatty than others, but still, they taught him things even through short conversations. Darcy told him that she needed more time because she was practicing for a new cheer routine that was going to be performed at a rally. Already, that told Error a lot he had no idea about. Penny told him that she needed more time because she was working on making a video game and didn’t have time to work on her blanket at night. Error didn’t know video games were even made. In hindsight, it made sense, they didn’t just appear, but he’d never even thought about that!

And then another thought crossed his mind. Maybe his house wouldn’t feel as lonely if he had a kid. Immediately, his face went warm. He’d never even thought about starting a family before, but all of a sudden he was. But of course, that was ridiculous. Who would he even have a kid with?

-

Nightmare quietly stirred his tea, mindless and mournful. A second glass sat across from him. That was the object of Nightmare’s attention as he let his thoughts drift.

It had been a very recent thing, but Nightmare had started trying to get Error to enjoy tea. The other pretty much lived off chocolate, milk, and some combination of the two like chocolate milkshakes. And after playful pestering, Nightmare convinced Error to try tea. He hated it! Making gagging noises as he exaggeratedly spit the tea into the trash can.

After laughing so hard his sides hurt, Nightmare assured Error that there was probably one kind of tea that Error would enjoy. He started making different kinds of tea for Error and getting closer to something he’d like. They’d only tried three different kinds before Error died.

By far though, Error enjoyed the story more. He’d sit with Error on the couch, give him his tea and get his (disgusted) reaction, then read to him. They’d been reading together for years, but the tea was a new thing.

More than once, Error scooted closer to him when they were reading. His hand would be so close to Nightmare’s hand, so close Nightmare could feel his warmth. Often, Error would fall asleep, curled up on the couch while Nightmare read to him. And he’d pull the blanket over Error with a quiet laugh and think ‘My god, how could one skeleton be so cute?’

He wouldn’t sleep for long, he had too much work to do, but he’d sleep for a good hour or so. During those quiet times, Error snoring softly and the world muffled to not wake him up, the gentle scratch of pen on paper as Nightmare worked and birds singing outside the window, that’s when Nightmare felt most at ease. He loved Error. But he never confronted Error about his feelings because he didn’t know where Error stood when it came to relationships. He’d rather be friends with Error and enjoy those quiet moments rather than make things awkward and ruin everything.

But now, Error is gone and it was his fault.

Slowly, Nightmare curled up into himself and started to cry. He didn’t feel like he had the right to cry, but he couldn’t help it. He missed Error so much. In one evening, he managed to destroy his life along with the lives of everyone around him. That was one of the few things he was good at; ruining lives.

He cried until there was nothing left to cry. Nightmare laid down on the couch, trying to forget about his situation until sleep came to him. Not for the first time, he wished his life had an undo button.

-

It was always a good day when Killer got to hang out with his friends, and today they were having a sleepover at his house. Killer hadn’t been this happy in a long time. He told them to bring their own blankets so that they could make some nest-like thing in front of the couch.

He bought a bunch of snacks and got the TV show set up, RuPaul’s Drag Race of course, and then his friends began showing up. Killer had the house to himself, but even if he didn’t, his father wouldn’t care too much. It was shaping up to be a great night.

“Cross! I missed you so much.” Killer said, hugging the first guest to attend his sleepover.

“You saw me a few hours ago.”

“And it was far too many hours. Come on in!” Killer said.

Cross came in, dropping his blanket on the piles of blankets. Killer couldn’t stop smiling as he sat down on the floor in front of the couch. “What season should we start from?” Killer asked.

“Mmm… I liked season nine.” Cross said.

“That’s towards the end though…”

Cross scoffed. “You asked for my opinion and then shut me down!”

“No, no, I was just saying! We can start from season nine! We’ll just have to explain things to Graham since he’s never watched it.” Killer said.

“We’d just have to explain the challenges and the references, but otherwise it should be fine.”

Horror and Graham showed up together. Graham seemed glued to the TV, but Horror seemed more interested in chatting with his friends. So while Cross and Horror chatted about this and that, Killer was sitting on the floor with Graham wrapped up in blankets and wrapped up in the drama on TV.

“Can you ask your dad to just adopt me?” Horror asked, only half joking. Cross laughed.

“He’s kind of strict, he barely even lets me come here,” Cross said.

“Yeah, but… You eat dinner every night, yeah? And you have tons of snacks in the kitchen? And he shows up to every event you’re doing cheer at? That sounds amazing.” Horror said.

That put a lot of things in perspective for Cross. His father could be very strict, but at least he cared. At least there was food on the table and he knew his father supported him. On the other hand, Horror lived never knowing when his next meal would be.

“My grandfather… he was very abusive to my dad. Nearly killed him one time, which got my dad taken from him. After that, my dad got into drugs and… bad stuff. So… Now that he’s clean and has a family, he just wants what’s best for me.” Cross said, mainly talking to himself. Then, he blinked, looking over at Horror with a smile. “If you explained your situation to him, I am sure he’d take you in. If… If he could. I know there’d be more legal stuff than just agreeing to let you live with me.”

“We’d be brothers then.” Horror pointed out.

“We already pretty much are.”

Horror made a happy noise, grabbing Cross and dragging him into a hug. Cross laughed and hugged him back, not minding how tightly Horror was squeezing him. The idea of being legal brothers made Cross happier than words could ever express. Horror always wanted siblings.

About twenty minutes later, Dust showed up. He seemed very quiet, more quiet than usual. Even when Killer hugged him and asked him how the walk was, Dust just shrugged and sat down. That was ok though, people were allowed to have bad days. Maybe this would boost his mood a little.

“There’s no way she just said that to her face,” Graham said, hand over his mouth. Cross laughed.

“It’s reality TV,” Cross said.

“And gay people,” Killer added.

“Of course, there is gonna be drama.” He continued. “Have you never seen reality TV?”

“No… My brothers never let me have the remote and most of the time they just play video games.” Graham said. “And my parents only watch medical dramas.”

“Oh god, that sounds like hell,” Killer said. Graham chuckled. “No seriously. If I had to watch Grey's Anatomy and that one with the angry old guy every day, I’d jump from a building.”

“I-It’s not that bad,” Graham said, momentarily stunned by Killer joking about suicide. But, he brushed past it just as easily. “The worst part is all the sex scenes. Is there really that much sex with real doctors and their colleagues and stuff?”

“No. Lots of doctors are socially awkward virgins or too busy for that kind of thing.” Killer said. “Besides, I’d imagine it’s pretty hard to give googly eyes to some other doctor when you just watched a man walk into the ER holding his own severed arm or something.”

“Well… I imagine doctors get pretty numb to that kind of thing.” Cross said.

“True.”

As the night dragged on, people started falling asleep. Horror and Cross fell asleep first. Killer didn’t know which of the two was first to fall asleep, but now they were both sleeping soundly. He couldn’t help but smile, feeling happier than he had in a while.

Dust on the other hand didn’t look so good. He had his head on the couch, arm over his eye sockets, and sweating profusely. His chest was heaving and occasionally when the TV got quiet, Killer could hear his ragged breaths.

Killer kept shooting glances in his direction, but Dust ignored him. His face was twisted in pain and only got worse over time. Eventually, Dust looked down at his other arm, blood was leaking through his shirt. Dust’s eye sockets went wide.

By that point, all of the other boys were asleep. And so, Dust tapped Killer on the shoulder and asked if they could talk alone. The two of them retreat to the kitchen for a bit of privacy. Dust’s voice is small and monotone.

“Do you have any bandages?” Dust asked.

“I think so,” Killer said. He opened up the kitchen cabinet, looking for bandages. “Did you get scratched or something?”

“Uh…” Dust mumbled something. Killer turned to look at him. “I haven’t… looked to see how bad it is…”

Dust was concerning him. Killer grabbed a box of bandages from the top shelf and set them on the counter. Dust messed with the collar of his shirt for a moment before pulling it down to show his arm just below the shoulder.

The bone was cracked. Blood had leaked down his arm and now it stopped. Killer felt sick.

“What the hell happened?” Killer asked.

“My uh… My dad was upset tonight and I was in his way, so he uh…” Dust went quiet when he saw the look on Killer’s face. “He didn’t hit me, he just grabbed my arm and pulled me hard, and um… yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Killer asked with barely restrained anger. Dust shrank a little, now not looking at him.

“I don’t know.” His voice was faint.

Dust didn’t say anything because he was still shaken. He’d never seen his dad more upset. He was shouting and throwing things, he told Dust he should go kill himself because it was only fair. He was right, but it still hurt so much to hear. He should’ve died, not his brother. Every moment he lived was an insult to his brother, so Dust never blamed his father for being angry at him.

Then when Dust was trying to go to his room, he ended up blocking his dad’s way. He was yanked out of the way and smacked his face against the doorframe. At first, Dust thought that was the worst injury he sustained. That was until he got to Killer’s house and the pain started getting worse and worse in his arm, dripping down the bone and radiating up to his face like boiling water trapped inside his bones. He didn’t want to tell anyone because he was scared, he didn’t want to say anything because he felt responsible for his dad’s anger. But when the pain got too bad, he felt the need to ask Killer for first aid.

Killer sighed. “I am not mad at you. Just… fuck, what do we do?” Dust shrugged, wincing. “I don’t think a bandage is going to do much, we might have to go to a hospital.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Dust said quickly. “They are going to ask questions if I go to the hospital.”

“Of course they are. You were abused.” Killer said, emphasizing the word ‘abused’. Dust shifted uncomfortably, staring at the fridge door rather than looking anywhere in Killer’s direction.

Killer had never seen his friend like this. He let out a long sigh and pulled Dust into a hug. Dust rested his cheekbone on Killer’s shoulder, staring into the distance and seeing nothing.

“If you don’t want to go to the hospital, you don’t have to.” Killer conceded. Dust let himself relax a bit upon hearing that. “But you need to tell someone. Some adult.”

“Ok…” Dust sighed. Killer pulled away, hands still on Dust’s shoulders.

“Let’s just get your arm fixed up,” Killer said. Dust nodded.

Killer was fuming. He wanted to storm over to Dust’s house and chew out that bastard Dust was forced to call his dad. He wanted to brick the windows and burn the place to the ground if only to watch Dust’s dad cry over the rubble of his home. But he didn’t.

Instead, he bandaged the injury and gave Dust some painkillers. The two of them retreated to the living room and Killer held Dust close as he fell asleep. He didn’t understand why Dust didn’t want to tell anyone about this, but he didn’t intend to let the abuse get worse. They had to tell someone, but most teachers at the school wouldn’t do anything. And suddenly, Killer remembered Mr. Error’s words from the first day of class.

-

“Fuck, you are so hot without your jacket on,” Killer said. Dust glanced over, he was doing laundry right now, and saw his lover there. He was standing in a white knitted sweater with a black eye design right over his chest. If he was wearing shorts, the sweater hid them. He looked so damn cute like that.

“Most people wouldn’t say that while I am just doing house chores.” Dust said. He was just in a plain black T-shirt and grey sweatpants.

“Well, I am not like most people,” Killer said. “You look like a whole-ass snack.”

Dust rolled his eyelights affectionately and went back to what he was doing. He might be imagining things and maybe it was just because the sweater was big, but it looked like Killer had something summoned. Again, he wasn’t sure, but he was thinking that because of how full his midsection looked as opposed to when it was empty and his shirt often brushed against his spine.

“I was just wondering if I had any pants,” Killer said. All their clothes were dirty, they really needed to stop slacking on chores. “All I have are these short shorts and I am cold as hell.”

Feeling a little bolder than normal, Dust smiled. “I think you look fine without pants.”

Killer huffed playfully. “Of course you do.” He said.

When Dust was done with what he was doing, he turned to Killer. He pushed Killer against the wall with the passion of his kiss and the other reciprocated. Killer’s body was warm.

“Are you getting sick?” Dust asked.

“I think so,” Killer said. “Does that mean no more kisses?” He pouted playfully.

“Absolutely not.”

Dust pressed another kiss to Killer’s face, this time to his cheek. It felt so domestic. He tried to imagine what it would have been like to live like this; just him and Killer in their own house half-dressed and madly in love with no one to tease them.

And suddenly, Killer pulled away. “Pants.” He reminded Dust firmly, getting distance.

Once again, Dust was confused. He thought their conversation was going well, but now Killer was acting distant again. He didn’t understand.

‘It's because you’re annoying him.’ The voice in his head said in a sing-song way.

Dust cringed at the voice and turned to the dryer. He picked out some pants and tossed them at Killer who caught them. Killer blew him a kiss and walked away.

Despair began to creep in. What if Killer did hate him? What if he did something wrong?

Now that the washing machine was going, he retreated to his room; forgetting about folding the dry clothes. There were very few reasons why Killer would be acting so weird. The one that seemed most likely was that he had done something to piss Killer off, but Killer didn’t want to make things worse by talking about it.

It was inevitable that Dust screwed up this relationship. He guessed it was better that it happened now rather than when Killer got overly attached to the train wreck that Dust was. Dust had been hallucinating more and more as the days went by and his stress built up. Now at least once per day, he saw shadows moving or bugs crawling all over him. If he was unlucky, he had more intense hallucinations.

‘You should kill yourself. Do it. I mean, what do you have to live for anymore?’

He clutched at his skull. The idea of killing himself only got stronger and stronger. Why wouldn’t this goddamn voice shut up?

When it first appeared, Dust started calling it Papyrus. It sort of sounded like his brother, but not really. It was hard to tell the gender of the voice, it could easily be either male or female, but the way it spoke was a lot like Papyrus in the way it pronounced words and stuff. His brother would never say half of these terrible things.

“You can’t go around calling it ‘Papyrus’ then.” Killer had told him all those years ago when Dust confided in Killer about the voice.

“Why not?” Dust had asked.

“Because you’re giving it too much power! Call it something else, anything else. Like… Kevin.” Killer said. Dust huffed a laugh. “Exactly! Calling it Papyrus only adds to its power. But it’s just a dumb fucking voice. It’s a dumbass whispery thing named Kevin. That’s all.”

“Alright… Kevin.”

The memory almost made him laugh now. Killer helped so much with his mental health. Why was he avoiding him now? How could he have fucked up so badly?

‘You always do something wrong. It’s a miracle he put up with you for this long.’ Kevin said. Dust winced. ‘He’s too perfect for you, and when he realized that, he tried to distance himself from you. Because you’re clingy. And you’re a fucking psychopath. No normal person would hear me in their head, it’s ‘cause you’re a fucking schizo.’

“Shut the fuck up.” Dust hissed.

‘Aw, now you’re talking to yourself? You are losing it, Sansy.’

“Leave me alone!” Dust shouted, hoping to drown out the voice.

‘You want me to go?’

“Yes… Yes, please, just go away. At least for a day.”

‘There’s one thing that can make me go away.’ Kevin said darkly. Dust squeezed his eye sockets closed. ‘That’s right, you already know what I want. I don’t even care how you do it at this point, but you can’t tell me it wouldn’t be cathartic to finally shut me up. Tear apart your ruined, bastardized, twisted skull and make me shut up.’

Dust just wanted the voice to be quiet. He wanted its poisonous words out of his head. He sat down on his bed, hugging himself tightly.

Burying his face in his knees, he rocked back and forth. Honestly, why shouldn’t he kill himself? He struggled for this long and now it didn’t matter, so he could.

A knock at the door snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Dust?” Said a soft voice.

“Come in.” Dust said. Killer came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey. I uh… No one saw you for dinner.” Killer said. Dust was confused. Has that much time passed? He looked towards his window and realized it was dark now. But that couldn’t be true.

‘You're losing what’s left of your mind.’ Kevin taunted.

“Why do you care?” Dust asked, looking away from Killer.

“Of course, I care,” Killer said, getting a little closer.

Dust shook his head. He buried his face in his knees again. “You don’t have to lie.”

Killer was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed and took Dust’s hand. The smaller skeleton looked over at him. On Killer’s face was an undeniable expression of apprehension.

“I know I have been acting strange, but I promise that it’s to protect you. But if you want to know, I can tell you.” Killer said.

“Tell me.” Dust said without hesitation.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” Killer said. Dust’s insistent gaze didn’t let up. His lover let out a slow sigh. “Dust… I am pregnant.”

Dust felt his soul drop as he looked down at Killer’s midsection. For a moment, he just tried to process the news, and then a deep despair soaked through his shock. He looked up from Killer’s stomach at his face and saw tears forming there.

Without a word, he opened his arms and Killer collapsed into his chest. Now it made sense why his temperature was higher; his body was using more magic than it normally would. It made sense why Killer tried to avoid physical contact; Dust would’ve immediately felt Killer’s summoned form. “I thought it was better if you never knew about this because even if you want this kid, they can’t… they’ll never have a chance to live a full life.”

“I understand.” Dust said. Honestly, he felt stupid for immediately assuming Killer hated him.

“Do we even tell the others?” Killer asked miserably. “It’s gonna suck hiding it, but it’ll hurt them if they knew. You know Horror and Cross would’ve loved to be uncles.”

Now Dust understood why Killer hid this, he understood it with painful clarity. Dust quietly rubbed Killer’s back as he thought. It was a tough decision. “I would say… You don’t necessarily have to hide it, but I wouldn’t tell them. If they figure it out then they figure it out.”

The two just sat there together for a while. Killer seemed tired now that he got that tension off his shoulders, but the opposite was true for Dust. He comforted Killer to sleep while a fire was beginning to burn in his soul.

Dust loved Killer more than he wanted to live. He could only imagine the intense protective love he’d feel for his child. Having his own home with Killer and his son or daughter, watching them grow up into their own person, every lifetime milestone they’d never be able to reach. It hurt. A peaceful life full of love, away from the torment of his past, was just within his grasp. But it would all end in misery and death if he did nothing.

It couldn’t end like this. He couldn’t afford not to care anymore. He had to do something, he had to try anything.

Was it anger giving him sudden motivation? Dust wasn’t sure. Anger was a part of it, but it didn’t feel like the full reason. Whatever it was, it compelled Dust to quietly slip out of bed the second he knew Killer was asleep.

“Come in.” Nightmare said a moment before Dust knocked on the office door. Of course, he knew Dust was here, he must be a massive spotlight to him right now considering all his negativity.

Dust opened the door. Nightmare looked awful. It looked like he hadn’t slept in a long time, everything was disorganized and things were stuck to his goop as if he hadn’t cleaned himself in days.

“We have to do something.” Dust said. He didn’t need to clarify, Nightmare knew what he meant. The boss sighed quietly.

“I am sorry, Dust. There’s nothing to be done.”

“It can’t just be over!” Dust said, louder than necessary. He floundered for a moment. “How do we know Error is dead? What if something is… blocking his aura?”

“Trust me, Dust; I have thought about nothing else for weeks.” Nightmare said. “Nothing that I know of can stop my magic from finding him.”

“That you know of.” Dust repeated. Nightmare sighed again. “We don’t know where he died, who did it, or even the circumstances surrounding it! We need to at least try to get some goddamn answers!”

Nightmare blinked at him slowly, still lethargic and hopeless despite the wall of energy Dust had brought with him. “Where is this motivation coming from? It seems very out of the blue.”

“It’s personal,” Dust said curtly. “Please… let’s just try. What else do we have to do with our remaining time?”

The boss thought about it. “Alright. If you come up with a convincing plan, I’ll give the order to the others.” He said despite the doubt lingering behind Nightmare’s every word.

“Ink could probably fix the issue, right? Why don’t we talk with him?”

“Do you have his phone number?” Nightmare asked. Dust faltered. “That’s what I thought. And I don’t know if searching the whole multiverse is an effective use of your time.”

“Ok, well… Why don’t we try to figure out what happened to Error? We could start searching from the Anti-Void and move on from there.” He suggested. If Dust was in Error’s place and had a fight with Nightmare, that’s where he’d go.

Now Nightmare had to pause to think. Dust felt hope building in his chest. When was the last time he felt hopeful about anything?

“I need to go there to get something for his funeral anyway.” Nightmare said. “Alright. We can go check it out. Get your shoes on.”

Dust didn’t need to be told twice. He had no idea where this energy was coming from, but it felt good. After being trapped in a dark hole of misery and acceptance of the end, having the motivation to do something again was so satisfying.

When he was ready the two of them went to the Anti-Void. It was just as empty as Dust remembered. He looked around the beanbag chair, looking around at all Error’s things. The ground had a few things scattered around but not many, and something about that seemed strange for some reason.

“I don’t understand how Error put up with this place for so long.” Nightmare said, looking at Error’s beanbag chair.

“Boss.” Dust said urgently. Nightmare looked over at him, but Dust was looking up.

Nightmare followed his gaze. Electric blue strings crisscrossed the not-sky. Souls, dolls, and other misc things hung up there. The breath was stolen from Nightmare in an instant.

Upon death, any magic a monster had summoned would dust with them. And yet here was Error’s strings still holding strong. That could only mean one thing.

Error was alive.