Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Suitcase walked quickly down a long hallway, tracking where she was in her memory of the mansion's layout. 

The grand, tan walls were lined with dusty framed pictures of deceased family members, and odd but enchanting oil paintings from years ago. The floor had a long, detailed yellow rug, down the length of the specific hallway.

She was passing the study room now, nearing her temporary destination. The mansion that she knew her whole life sang the echoes of her footsteps as she carried a tray, 3GS's dinner held carefully in a balance on the palm of her hand. She was poised, precise. Like always. She couldn't afford to be any less. 

The end of the hallway met a row of stairs, winding up and up to where she knew 3GS’s room was. Hoping and trusting she wouldn't slip, she made her way up the ebony stairs. During the morning, when these stairs would catch her eye, they'd be tinted by the sun, an otherworldly orange that seemed so bright and out of place among the other dull colors in the mansion. It only ever lasted in the dawn, though, when the sun was on the horizon.

Mephone3GS. The Son, Although,that's not what she'd limit him to. He was in charge of completing Cobs' little excursions- missions, he calls them. But most of the time, he has his room and most of the mansion to himself. He'd help with dusting sometimes, or with whatever Suitcase was doing. He had spoken of attempting to help Knife, but the man didn't seem to want the help. Suitcase would spend as much time as she could with him in his room. on days she was less busy, in times she had lunch breaks. He needed it.

Suitcase stopped before the door, holding her gloved hand up and knocking lightly.

"Sir? It's Suitcase. I have your dinner." She informed him through the intricately carved wood of the door. She was aware that he wasn't partial to the formalities she used for him, but it was simply her job. She had to call her superiors 'Sir' as a sign of respect.

She heard faint shuffling before the door swung open, and she looked up at the taller man. His grey hair was messy and in his face, his waistcoat was slightly pushed to the side, and he had obviously been crying. She hid any expression she had, instead looking up at him blankly.

She pitied the poor kid, honestly. She wished simply that she could give him reprieve from what must be so painful for his eyes. But she couldn't. She was powerless. Just a small member of the team who managed this place. And as much as she wanted to stop and comfort the tear ridden man as she frequently did, she had work to do.

She held out the plate formally, watching him take it. As hesitantly as he always did. 

She met his eyes, his blue, stormy eyes that held such emotion just bubbling beneath the surface, silently begging the question ‘will you stay this time?’ She shook her head softly, like it would make the 'no' any easier, and then turned away.

 She heard his quiet sigh before the door shut softly.

Suitcase paused again at the bottom of the stairs, locating herself. The Butler's closet should be.. to the right. 

She went a few steps forward, counting them in her head to save for later, she then turned right, and was faced with a familiar door. Ah. Good. Sometimes she'd get turned around in the mansion. It really was a big place.

Opening the door as quietly as possible, she got out a feather duster, inspecting it and then picking a few little leaves out of it before turning, she looked down, watching the floor pass her as she closed the door and strode down a hall, to one of the guest rooms.

One of the many, many guest rooms.

It really was a big place. A big, empty place. She sometimes wondered why Cobs would still choose to keep the guest rooms maintained, even when they rarely let anyone use it, but she supposed it wasn't in her place to question it. She was simply the Butler.

"Oof!"

And he was simply the Assistant.

Strong arms grabbed her shoulders, standing her up straight before letting her go. his grey eyes met hers, and she blinked up at him.

 Silver hair that glinted in the overhead orange tinted lights on the high ceiling, it was long and spiky, with uneven layers. He'd done it himself, she remembered the night he did it. She had found him in a guest room, facing the vanity and snipping strands off of his hair in a blithe manner. She remembered silently helping him, standing behind him as he frowned deeply at the mirror, probably ashamed that he was letting her help him. The haircut had been salvageable, and it was grown out now, down to his collarbone.

Knife gave her a quick once over before exhaling sharply, standing up straight, like he was gloating his height to her. He has a similar uniform to her, with a black vest and a white undershirt, and matching black dress pants. She herself had brown instead of black, and it made them look like two puzzle pieces that just barely fit together. She smiled. He didn't reciprocate.

Knife. The Assistant. in charge of taking care of practically every one of Cobs's problems. Fights, gangs, protests, etcetera. He was a fighter, after all. She sometimes finds him punching air or the occasional old punching bag he'd found in storage that one day. Also In charge of- unfortunately, managing her, and sometimes consoling 3GS, although he let Suitcase do that, most of the time,

"Careful there, Suitcase." the Assistant muttered with a small quirk of his eyebrow, before walking past her, heading in the opposite direction.

 She watched him until he turned the corner before shaking her head and looking away from her.. distraction, again facing the hallway. Great. Now she was turned around.

She took a few steps in her previous direction, and just started walking. Dumb decision, she knew, but she wasn't too familiar with her current location in the hotel. She took a few turns, went down a few hallways, before she spotted the doors to the mansion's second kitchen.

She planned to walk past it, but the smell of some sweet pastry or treat or candy caught her attention, and her direction had changed before she could think twice.

She meekly and slowly opened the heavy kitchen doors, squinting at the bright light. There was a hustle and bustle in the kitchen, so she knew someone was in there.

She dipped her head as she looked around the large kitchen. The marble tiles on the floor were glossy and white. The counters were a darker granite, smooth and shiny as well.

Where were those pastries.. what was that scent? Caramel? Strawberry? No, not strawberry.. some sort of bittersweet flavo-

“Oh, hello there, Ms. Suitcase.” A calm voice spoke, and she jumped, raising her head and turning to the voice. A familiar tall man in a clean chef's suit smiled warmly at her, head tilted slightly. His black hair was pushed back, and he was holding a shaker, that held some spice she probably couldn't pronounce. 

Mepad. The Chef. In charge of cooking, and managing some of the staff, Knife and Toilet, but not her. He had explained why recently, but she'd forgotten already.

She straightened up, watching him with wide eyes. She knew she wasn't supposed to be in here, not while she was working.

“I-uhm, I smelled- uh-some- something good, I just.. I'm hungry.”

He didn't shoo her out of the kitchen like he was supposed to. At this point she'd be surprised if he did, with how often she came around with a craving for a sweet treat. Instead, he turned around, grabbing a plate and putting a cinnamon roll on it, then turning back toward her and setting it in her hands with a small nod.

“All you need to do is ask, Suitcase. Is there any other reason you came by?” He softly asked, going back to the counter where a tray of more cinnamon rolls lay, and he began to individually wrap them in napkins, folding them neatly, almost to perfection.

“..Thank you. And.. yes. how do you get the napkins like that?” She walked up to the counter beside him, raising her head a bit so she could see alright. Mepad quickly nodded, and took a napkin in his hand, and began to explain. She took a bite of the delectable cinnamon roll and hummed in delight at the sweet taste. He smiled again.

She payed attention as he folded it specifically, even if she probably would never use the skill. It was just nice to.. talk to someone, she supposed.

After he was done talking, she put the empty plate in the sink, and then washed it quickly. She needed to get back to work. Mepad gave her a gentle pat on the head as she walked past him, and then she was back out of the kitchen, back on her way to the guest room she had to clean.

Passing another hallway, she then figured out where she was, before a cold hand suddenly grabbed her arm tightly, dragging her into a study room. She yelped with surprise and slight fear, before the hand let her go and she stumbled and nearly fell, catching herself.

She turned her head, disoriented, to see Toilet. A short man with fluffy white hair, and a white and grey uniform. He was slightly pale, and skinny. She suddenly wished she'd saved some of the cinnamon roll for him, but he could probably go and get one anyway. He was slumped dramatically in a chair like he wasn't the one that yanked her into the room like she was a potato sack. 

“Miss Suitcaaaaase! I've been doing this work for so long! And Cobs isn't even happyyyy! What do I dooooo?” He whined loudly. Suitcase sighed quietly and walked over to him, brushing her hair down a bit with her hands, since it was messy from the sudden yank. Her warm gloves felt nice on her head.

“You don't need to call me Miss, Toilet. And you know how he is.” She consoled him, watching him loll his head dramatically, despite her (hopefully) comforting words. She continued. “He just wants the best for you. For all of us. You'll get a break. Just.. do your best for now. Okay?”

He just groaned loudly again. She took that as an ‘Okay’, and stood up straight again, observing him silently.

Toilet. The Administrative Assistant. In charge of signing and organizing most of Cobs' paperwork. Things like finances and other digital records. Surprisingly, though the man wasn't good at much else, he was good with numbers and words. And paperwork.

He sat up again, giving her a tired look. She smiled softly at him.

“You got this.” She whispered, giving him a small thumbs up as she backed up, slipping out of the door as soon as he turned back to the paperwork.

Great. Turned around again.

Analyzing her mind map and glancing at the kitchen, she quickly reoriented herself, taking a few counted turns, before finding the room number she'd marked in her head for cleaning earlier 

7. Not that it meant anything to her.

She entered the room, seeing the familiar layout of it. a white and gold queen sized bed was settled against the center of the main wall, next to it, a white bedside table. To her right were the doors to the closet and the bathroom, and to her left was a wardrobe and a vanity.

The guest rooms brought her comfort. She couldn't place why, since she didn't dwell on it much, but she always went into, or was taken into one of them by Knife or sometimes Mepad when she had a hallucination. Maybe it was the smell of them, maybe it was the colors, strikingly different from the rest of the mansion, which was a yellowish orange tinted, due to the lights, which were fairly old.

Suitcase didn't waste her time, getting straight to work. She pulled her mask over her nose, before clearing all the miscellaneous things, like candles and lamps, off of the desks and other flat surfaces. setting them in the closet for now, she took her duster, and began dusting as much as she could find. 

She'd need to sleep soon, she knew. When her eyelids felt like they were moving on their own accord, despite her sheer willing of them to stay awake, they would flutter closed and she'd almost fall. 

She was sweeping, and got to the corner, taking the pile and sweeping it into a tray, dumping it into a trash nearby. Taking a deep breath, she leaned against a wall, letting her eyes sit in their wanted position for a moment, closed.

A long time passed.

She heard the door creak open and realized she was sitting on the floor against the wall. Lifting her head, not fast enough to stop whoever coming in seeing that she had dozed off.

Lucky for her, it was just Knife. He looked around at the only lit guest room, before spotting her.

The Assistant walked over to her with a slightly disappointed look. She didn't bother getting up. She had the broom in her hands, weakly clenched in her gloved fingers.

“I swear, you've fallen asleep in almost every room in this place.” He jabbed quietly, his voice softer, probably due to the late hour.

Suitcase looked up at the blurry form of him, before rubbing her eyes.

“Not every single one. I haven't fallen asleep in the study room or my closet yet.” She meekly replied. It wasn't a good comeback, but she was tired. With a heave of her fatigued limbs, she stood up, still using the wall for support. A wave of dizziness hit her and she stumbled a bit.

“Your dumb closet isn't even big enough to sleep in.” He scoffed, she could hear the slight amusement in his voice and she frowned, standing up straight and grabbing her broom. She felt his arm very softly grab hers and she was too tired to stop him from leading her somewhere. They left the guest room, turning to the right, to a random hallway.

“Exactly.” She retorted half-heartedly, walking with him, stumbling a bit. The dizziness faded in a couple seconds, but sleep still weighed on her.

There was no response, and she looked up at him.

Nobody was there. She blinked, looking around. She rubbed the ugly sensation of a hand off of her arm, slightly spooked 

“Knife?“ she called out, the sound of her own voice almost too loud for her.

There was no response.

She sighed, looking around for the broom, and it was on the ground next to her. She picked it up, taking it back to the guest room. It was then leaned against the wall of the inside closet. Suitcase crossed the room to the lamp, turned the orange light off, then left the cleaned room.

Suitcase shut the door, staring at the dark brass handle, and her white glove on it, making it look old and dirty in comparison.

“Suitcase?” A much more clear voice called. She turned, seeing the silhouette of Knife a couple rooms away. He seemed to have just exited a room, probably looking for her. They always did that. Knife always finished his work before she did, so he'd come find her and keep her company or just stay with her until she was finished. It wasn't efficient, really, but it was routine. She liked routine. It was comfortable. She could trust routine.

Suitcase didn't answer, turning to face him completely as he walked to her.

“You good?” He whispered, stopping infront of her. She could barely make out his features in the dark, but he seemed concerned. “You called me..?” He muttered again in a hushed tone, and she nodded slowly, still slightly disorganized.

“I wasn't seeing.. it wasn't you. I hallucinated again.” Suitcase looked back at the hallway he had taken her. Knife nodded, looking at the hallway after she did. 

“I finished training. That's- that's why I came out here.” He muttered. She had guessed that, but she didn't say so. Sleepiness was like a heavy ball and chain on her shoulders, and it took focus to keep them up and steady. She looked back at him, and her eyelids nearly closed again. She rubbed them. 

“I need to sleep.” She felt him take her arm again, by her elbow, and this time it felt firmer, physical, like she wasn't following a dream's hand. She nearly passed out as he led her to her room. 'The Butler's room.'

She walked into the room as he let go of her, turning and looking at Knife. She smiled wearily, her entire being anticipating the second she lays down in her bed, practically pulling her to it.

“Thanks.” She whispered. He stood in the doorway for another moment, before walking away, closing her door gently.

She immediately turned, yanking the covers back and laying down, exhaling deeply as she sunk into the plush mattress. She didn't bother taking her vest off, despite the buttons digging into her chest. She simply rolled over to lay on her side, pulled the cold covers over herself, and shut her eyes, passing out within minutes.

The Butler. Suitcase. In charge of cleaning, dusting, and managing paperwork. Sometimes. She usually left that to Mepad or Toilet. The latter has more of a knack for that kind of thing, surprisingly. 

That's how it was.

And that's how it will continue to be.

Chapter Text

They'd be having breakfast together.

That was new.

Usually the 'playdates' they'd plan would be brought up by Mepad or toilet, not himself, Suitcase would always have fun, though, as she'd tell him while walking to her room. He could also tell by the blithe grin on her face, the bright eyes that somehow saw joy and hope in most things, that she was happy. Even if just for a quick moment or evening.

Which was why he was and wasn't surprised when she suggested they would have breakfast together.

She was stood outside his door, having just knocked and distracted him from laying in bed like the degenerate he was. He opened it with a sigh and a frown on his face, but it eased once he saw her and not Mephone3gs.

"What?" His tone still came off sharper than he intended, his sharp tongue and teeth betraying him once more. She seemed used to it, however, and just waved politely before speaking

"I'm.. suggesting that we should have a dinner- I mean- like a family dinner? -We're not a family, I mean, like a- I'm suggesting we all eat dinner in- at the same table?" She stammered out, wringing her hands infront of her, before offering an embarrassed smile.

Knife sighed, putting an arm up against the doorway and looking down at her

"What for? Cobs mandate it again?" He scoffed. She obviously bristled at the name, but quickly shook her head.

"Um, no, actually. Its- I don't think he'll be attending.. as usual." She paused, like she couldn't tell if what she said was rude or not, before continuing. "It's my idea. I.. want to know if you wanted to.. maybe join?" She asked, blinking hopefully up at him.

He narrowed his eyes and looked to the side, feigning uncertainty and thought, before giving a small grin.

"Sure. As long as 3gs doesn't talk to me." He teased, but he was kind of serious. That man was.. odd. Kind of intimidating, in a creepy way.

"I.. don't think I can do.. um..." she trailed off, confused

"Kidding, I'm kidding." his grin went a bit wider before he reached forward and messed up her hair. She pulled back and stumbled a bit

"You- messed up my hair, Sir." She complained with a displeased frown, fixing it. Knife straightened up and grabbed the door, planning to close it.

"I'll join you whenever I remember to."

She grinned happily, her hands folding back over themselves and lowering

Before he closed the door and before she walked away, he narrowed his eyes and added

"And quit calling me 'Sir'. It's weird."

He shut the door before she could even think of a rebuttal. Not that she was much good at those. Whenever she'd try to insult him back it was always slow and rather puny. It was cute to see her try, though. He pushed down the smile threatening to rise on his face.

She had just smiled at him. Like he'd done her a favor by saying he'd be there. That damn smile that looked like the sunflowers he'd sometimes spot way past the hills, through the window. One day he'd pick one. Maybe give it to her, if he's feeling sentimental. One day when he's found a safe way to get out of here.

Within half an hour, he was heading down there. He passed corridors and rooms, trudged down one set of stairs with the motivation of a sloth, and eventually made it to the dining foom. He had his usual uniform on, clean and devoid of stains or crinkles, but his hair was messy and untamed. If the big man wasn't going to be there, what use would looking picture perfect serve?

Although, he did look halfway decent. If not for Suitcase being there, he wouldnt have. Not that she would even notice, he thought bitterly. He rolled his sleeves up as he entered the dining room, taking in the family sight of the long table, showing off Cobs's obvious wealth.

There were 10 windows exactly. He'd sat here enough to count each stained glass one. They were tall, just long enough that you could see the stars and sometimes the moon. Just high enough that you couldn't see the ground or the hills. Well, actually there would be 11 windows, if you counted the skylight. More of a giant ceiling window than a skylight, in his opinion. You could see almost half the sky through that giant thing. It was the only window in this room that wasn't stained. If he wasn't so used to high ceilings like these, it would probably make him feel small. But he'd grown accustomed to it. Just like he had toeverything else in this old mansion.

Mephone3gs was unfortunately the first person he saw, and his mood immediately was spoiled. He wasn't as fond of the man/robot as Suitcase was. Knife almost envied her ability to just like everyone. Including himself. 3gs was straightening the table cover on the side nearest to Knife, eyes narrowed, focused on getting it straight. Toilet was on the other side, trying to straighten it but probably just messing it up. Along with looking way to proud for it too. Knife rolled his eyes and walked past them. Toilet spoke up loudly, making Knife grimace at the fucking volume that Toilet speaks normally at.

"MISTAH KNIFE! You made it!" he yelled, waving quickly.

"Unfortunately." Knife groaned dramatically back, glaring at Toilet, who frankly could not care less and care more about trying (and failing) to straighten the table cloth,

Knife slowly looked around again. Suitcase obviously wasn't in the rather expansive dining room, so he headed to the kitchen. He shoved both heavy white doors open with a scowl, immediately hit with many strong scents. He slowly walked in, now within sight of the mansion's chef, Mepad. Whom, upon seeing him, blinked, then smiled openly.

"Hello there, Mr. Knife," His greeting was friendly, and not rushed at all, which was surprising considering how many things he was doing with his hands right now, cutting, placing, turning knobs and moving pans and dishes.

"It seems you and Ms. Suitcase had the same idea." He gestured to his right, where, at the counter, Suitcase was watching the food being made. She had her face resting on her arms, one elbow cushioning her head. Upon seeing Knife, she jumped, sitting up, fixing her posture and brushing off her vest. Knife gained a victorious grin to have found her, before turning and circling around to sit next to her at the counter. She looked stressed. He leaned his right elbow on the table, left arm draped over the back of his chair. He could care less about posture and shit like that. Unlike her, apparently.

"Tired already? Dinner hasn't even started yet." He teased, trying to ease her nerves. He knew why she was stressed, but he played dumb for her so she'd open up. That tends to work a lot, surprisingly. He'd expected her to catch on to his tricks by now. She's the only reason he'd ever pretend to be stupid.

"I know, I know, I've just never been the one to- sort of, host a dinner before. What if people expect me to say something? What do I say?" She fretted, gloved finger tapping incessantly on the marble counter.

He moved his left hand off of the chair to cover her hand, slightly because of the mild irritation for the repeated noise, and slightly to try to calm her, and she shrunk a bit.

"You've known them your whole life, mouse. I don't think they'll be that worried about you saying things." He grinned when she frowned at the nickname.

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I said no, remember?" He shot back, gloved hand still on hers. He didn't realize this until a second later, in which he frowned and pulled his hand away, instead dusting off his collar "Plus, you are a lot like a mouse. Skittery."

"I'm not skittery!" She huffed, arms uncrossing.

He narrowed his eyes in obviously disbelief, and then he quickly booped her nose and she flinched, before glaring at him, in which he replied with a smug grin. He was about to tease her further, but Mepad spoke before he could

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but the food is done. Would you like to come out and sit now? It's alright if you need to wait." He helpfully suggested with a warm smile, hands out in an offering manner.

Suitcase thought, before shaking her head quickly.

"No, I'll be okay. Thank you so much, Mepad." She smiled right back, and then got down from the counter. Knife felt slightly jealous of how easy it was for her to be polite. He followed her out, not saying anything about her shaky hands.