Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Error hadn't seen it coming.

Ink drank his red vile, and with the boost of power and aggression that followed, he managed to land a strike on Error's eyes. Hard. The paint stung but Error managed to get back to the Anti-void.

But his vision didn't come back. Not the next day or the day after that. Even weeks later, his vision was still gone. It seemed his strings couldn't heal them. That was a problem. A big problem. If Error's strings couldn't heal them, then he needed someone with healing magic to fix them; only he didn't know anyone with healing magic, certainly not anyone in Nightmare's gang.

To make matters worse, Error hadn't destroyed anything in long enough that Ink had gotten ahead with making AUs so Fate was going to visit and Fate would not be happy.

As if the mere thought summoned him, Fate appeared. Despite his lake of sight, Error could feel a shift in the atmosphere that signaled Fate's arrival. Or maybe it was just the sudden sense of dread twisting his chest.

"Error." Fate's voice rang with anger. "What are you doing? You haven't destroyed a single AU in weeks. I know you were injured but you must have healed by now." Fate stated.

Error hesitated before answering. "Actually... this one isn't healing."

"What are you talking about? Even if that's true you've always been able to fight through any amount pain, like I trained you to." Fate pointed out. Error could feel his glare boring into him.

"Yeah, maybe, but this time I'm blind." Error said, pausing a moment. When Fate didn't react he continued, "I can't just ignore this one."

Error couldn't see Fate's expression, but he took the silence as a bad omen. He heard the echo of footsteps get closer and he tensed up. Fate grabbed Error's face roughly and examined his eyes, as if making sure that Error wasn't just lying. Error could feel himself glitching more at the contact but he stood as still as a statue. Finally, Fate accepted that Error was right and that he was in fact blind, hand dropping away again. Error breathed out in relief.

"Even so, you need to destroy so I suppose we'll need to start training again." Fate decided. Error felt a pit of dread form in his stomach, training was never just training with Fate, it always hurt more than any training should.

"Ink isn't too far ahead so we have plenty of time. We won't stop training until you are fit to fight Ink. Let's begin." Fate said. Then, without further warning, Error felt an attack strike his shoulder. He tried to counter attack but Fate had already moved. This training felt impossible already.

Years passed.

Error trained. That was all he did.

Sometimes with Fate. Sometimes with Error-404. It never got easier. But Error adapted.

He learned to listen—to really listen. He honed a new technique, a magic that let him sense the pulse of souls and the flicker of magic-based attacks. It was draining, though, and he couldn’t rely on it constantly. So he found ways to use it in brief flashes, just enough to map out his surroundings and find his target before switching it off again the next moment to conserve energy.

He learned how to navigate his world without any sight and got pretty good at holding eye contact just by listening to the other person. The entire time he trained, he was stuck in the Anti-void where time meant nothing and he was completely alone.

He knew Nightmare and everyone else must be seriously worried about him. He hoped so anyway. But the Star Sanses probably counted his absence as a blessing.

Finally, Fate decided that Error was ready and unleashed him to start mass destroying AUs until the number of universes was safe again instead of teetering on the edge of total multiverse destruction.

By the time Ink caught up to him, he was ready to fight. His reactions were more delayed than normal but Error still held his own. Which was no surprise after his intense training with Fate and Error-404.

After he had done that, Error went home for the first time in years. To Nightmare's castle to see the only friends he had, who had waited just as long as him to reunite.

He teleported to the living room- if someone was home, that's where they'd be. Sure enough, he heard Killer and Horror bickering accompanied by the eerie soundtrack of a horror movie. Their voices cut off when they spotted him.

"Error?!" Killer exclaimed. He could hear movement which he assumed meant that Killer had stood up.

"Where have you been?!" Horror asked, his sharp tone replaced by genuine concern.

"Sorry guys, I... was busy." Error explained vaguely, glancing away.

"Busy?" Killer scoffed, but he was unable to keep his relief out of his voice, "What took you so long? Here I thought the multiverse would be self destructing any day now." He rambled.

"Sorry about that," Error scratched the back of his skill, tracking them with their voices. "it's under control now."

"We need to get you to Boss, he's been worried about you!" Horror interjected, urgency creeping into his tone.

"Really?" Error asked, Nightmare never came across as the type to worry.

"Yeah!" Killer piped up. "He thought something bad had happened after Ink showed up bragging about killing you."

Error's sockets narrowed. "As if that squid could kill me, I thought he saw me get away." He grumbled.

"Apparently not. Or he was just lying to mess with us" Killer shrugged, which Error did not see but assumed happened when he heard the rustle of fabric.

Figures. That idiot probably believed I was dead too. Error thought.

"Come on," Killer's voice was much lighter now, "Boss is in his office." Killer said. The shuffle of footsteps moved away Error nodded and followed the sound, matching his pace to theirs.

He’d already made up his mind—he wasn’t telling them. Not Killer, not Horror, not even Nightmare. If anyone found out he was blind, they’d see him as weak. Whether it was friend or enemy, Error couldn’t risk that.

Soon Error heard the click of the door to Nightmare's office opening, Killer and Horror stepping in. "Look who we found!" Killer bragged, far too proud of himself.

Taking that as his cue, Error stepped forward—too quickly. His shoulder clipped the doorframe. He stiffened, ignoring the jolt of impact and praying the others hadn’t noticed.

"Error?" Nightmare asked, Error could hear the disbelief in his voice.

"Hey, Nightmare. Sorry it's been a while." Error apologized, attempting to sound casual, like he hadn't vanished for years.

"You idiot, where have you been?" Nightmare snapped, the energy in the room quickly changed from surprised to angry. He could feel the negative power growing almost out of control from his friend, pressing into the room from all sides.

"I was busy. Sorry I worried you." Error offered quickly, the apology sounding weak to his own ears.

"That's hardly an answer." Nightmare’s voice stayed sharp, demanding more.

Error shrugged, knowing Nightmare could see it even if he couldn’t. “I was in the Anti-void.” He admitted.

"Doing what?" Nightmare pressed, voice laced with suspicion.

"No offense, but that's none of your business." Error bit back, more defensive now as the questioning dug too deep. The pressure of Nightmare’s aura flared, his anger spiking again.

Error braced himself, carefully choosing his next words. “Look… I really can’t tell you. Don’t take it personally. If you’re worried about the multiverse, it’s under control. Everything’s fine.”

There was a beat of silence.

"It's not the multiverse I was worried about." Nightmare mumbled, so soft most wouldn’t have caught it—but Error did. He’d spent years training his hearing. He heard everything now.

"“Well,” Nightmare spoke up, suddenly all business again, his voice carefully steady, “don’t miss the next meeting, it’s tomorrow morning. You can have your old room back, no one’s touched it."

Without another word, he turned and walked out, retracing his steps through the halls. He heard Horror mention something about telling the others that Error was back, but soon the voices and footsteps faded. When Error was sure he was finally alone, he allowed himself to exhale.

He hadn’t expected that. Not Nightmare’s anger. Not his worry.

Error was actually impressed he hadn’t bumped into another wall on the way out. On the way there, he’d had footsteps to follow—now he had nothing but luck. Well, luck and one hand trailing along the wall when no one was watching.

He found his room by the faint traces of his own magic lingering inside, like a distant echo only he could sense. To make things easier in the future, he laced a few of his strings around the doorframe and especially the doorknob, giving it a texture he could instantly recognize. Besides, he’d be able to feel his strings there, even from down the hall.

Once inside, he added a few more strings to the ceiling, weaving them in with the old ones he’d left years ago. The more markers he had, the easier it would be to find his way around.

Without bothering to check anything else, he curled up in his bed and fell asleep for the first time since his brutal training began. He didn’t need to sleep—but sometimes, it just felt nice.

When Error woke up, it hit him immediately—he had no idea what time it was. He didn’t know if it was morning, or if the meeting was about to start, or if he’d just been lying there for five minutes.

With a sigh, he decided to head to the kitchen. He didn’t teleport—he needed the practice navigating the castle on foot. He trailed his fingers along the walls, counting steps, memorizing turns. He must’ve taken a wrong one somewhere because the hallways didn’t sound right for a while, but eventually, he made it.

Someone else was there.

"Error!" The familiar voice rang out cheerfully, "Killer told me you were back but it's still weird seeing you."

"Hey, Cross. It's been a while." Error greeted, smiling in the general direction of his friend.

"Yeah, feels like it's been forever! What are you doing up so early?" Cross asked. Guess it wasn't morning yet after all.

"I could ask you the same thing." Error pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I got hungry." Cross admitted sheepishly.

"What time is it anyway?" Error asked, pretending he had forgotten to check his clock.

"Uh... 5:12 AM." Cross reported, obviously checking his watch.

As they kept talking, Error quietly sent out his strings, weaving them along the shelves until he found Killer’s hidden chocolate stash. A little tug, and one of the bars slipped neatly into his hand. He fumbled with the wrapper for a second before managing to tear it open.

He took a bite.

Cross went quiet for a beat. “That will never not be unsettling,” he muttered, watching as Error’s five blue tongues twisted in ways no sane anatomy should allow.

Error just smiled. “Good.”

“You’re such a maniac.”

Error laughed, a dry, genuine sound. “Everyone in this building’s a maniac. You used to it yet?”

Cross sighed, defeated. “Yeah… guess I should be by now.”

After chatting with Cross, Error went back to his room. He spent the next few hours listening to music, letting the familiar rhythms drown out the creeping tension in his chest. Eventually, when he figured enough time had passed, he made his way to the meeting room.

He was lucky—some of the others were already there, but he wasn’t the last to arrive. Still, the hardest part was pretending to find a seat without making it obvious he was struggling. It was a delicate dance, acting like he knew exactly where he was going when he was mostly guessing.

Thankfully, the sound of shuffling chairs and familiar voices helped him find an empty seat. He sat down as nonchalantly as he could. Horror was, predictably, the late one.

When Horror finally arrived, Nightmare stood and opened the meeting, chair squeaking as it slid back against the floor. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get to business. First of all, let’s welcome Error back.”

There were a few greetings from the others who hadn’t seen him yet, and Error gave short, casual responses in return, doing his best to face whoever was speaking.

“Next,” Nightmare continued, “a Sans has accepted my invitation to join us. We’re going to meet him, introduce him to everyone, and show him around the castle.”

Nightmare opened a portal for the whole group. Error hesitated for a split second. These things stressed him out more than he’d admit—portals dumped you somewhere with no warning, and playing it cool while blind was becoming exhausting.

He couldn’t ask for help either. Not without giving himself away.

When Error was on the other side of the portal, his foot immediately sank into snow. The temperature dropped as cold air rushed around him, sharp against his bones. He could feel the soft tickle of snowflakes landing on him. The air was thick with the scent of pine. Snowdin. He'd recognize it anywhere.

Then Cross gasped.

"What?" Error asked, bracing himself.

“Isn’t it obvious? This Sans is blind. Look at his eye sockets—they’re pitch black. And he’s got one of those walking cane things.” Cross sounded both surprised and… awkward.

Error’s soul skipped. For a moment, he almost forgot how to breathe—but he forced himself to play it cool. “Oh. Yeah. That. Killer’s eye sockets are pitch black too, but he can see just fine,” he shrugged, careful to sound dismissive, as if he’d already known.

“Whatever,” Cross mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“Hello, Sans. I brought my team with me,” Nightmare spoke, his voice steady. “Guys, introduce yourselves in the order you’re standing.”

Great, only I can't see that order. Error thought bitterly, clenching his jaw. At least he knew Cross was immediately next to him, so he could do it. But if he hadn't known that, this would be a disaster.

One by one, they introduced themselves. When it was his turn, Error smiled and casually gave his name, pretending to glance at the new recruit like everyone else.

Once they'd all finished, Dust spoke up. "I get that this guy is called Sans, but considering that everyone here is technically named Sans, shouldn't we call him something else?"

Nightmare hummed in agreement. “I’ll let him decide on a nickname, but yes, we should call him something else.”

They all stepped back through the portal, returning to the castle. The tour began without much ceremony, but early on, Horror almost slipped up.

“Yeah, so most of the hallways and rooms are color-coded—” Horror started but quickly cut himself off, “—uh, but I guess that doesn’t really help you, huh?”

There was a short, awkward pause.

Nightmare, unfazed, simply said, “We’ll install other ways to help you navigate. You’ll need something more tactile or audible. We’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that,” the new Sans replied casually.

The tour moved on, taking them through the essential rooms—the living room, kitchen, dining room, training arena, meeting room, Nightmare’s office, and finally, the bedrooms.

“This one will be yours,” Nightmare said, stopping at a door and opening it.

“Cool, thanks,” the blind Sans answered, stepping inside to take in the space in his own way.

As the group began to drift away, Cross leaned toward Error and whispered, “You okay with that?”

Error tilted his head, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“His room’s right across from yours,” Cross explained quietly.

“Oh.” Error shrugged, trying to sound indifferent. “That’s fine.”

It hadn’t even crossed his mind. He hadn't known, but it didn’t really matter anyway.

After leaving the new guy to settle in, Error returned to his own room. The door was easy to find thanks to the strings he’d placed there earlier. Once inside, he sat on his bed and pulled out his knitting.

His fingers moved automatically, but a quiet frustration settled in his chest. He had no idea what colors he was using. That used to matter to him. He used to pick his yarn carefully, but now… it didn’t make a difference. No one else would know either, and part of him found that strangely freeing. Another part hated it.

His thoughts drifted as he worked.

This new guy’s blind, huh? This might actually be interesting… Maybe he knows something I don’t.

For the first time in a long while, Error felt a small spark of curiosity that wasn’t tangled up in duty or survival.

Chapter Text

     It had been a few weeks since Error returned and the new guy, now named Blank, joined the gang. Error was starting to worry—the others were beginning to notice something was off about him. But he still couldn’t tell them. He didn’t want to—and Fate had warned him not to. Going against Fate’s word would only end badly.

     Error was still destroying AUs regularly, but his battles with Ink were growing harder. He couldn’t rely on seeing the color of Ink’s attacks anymore—he couldn’t see anything. He had to guess based on the hum of magic, but he kept misjudging. He was getting injured more than usual, struggling to dodge attacks. Even Ink seemed confused—something was clearly off about Error, but he couldn’t figure out what.

     Error’s most recent battle with Ink had nearly wiped him out. He burned too much energy keeping track of Ink’s movements with his new soul-sensing technique. When the fight finally ended, Error teleported home, too exhausted to do anything else. He went straight to bed, figuring sleep would help him recover faster.

     The next morning, he made his way downstairs. His steps were a little unsteady, his bones still aching from the fight. He turned a corner and nearly crashed into Nightmare. His body jolted, glitching hard for a second, but he forced himself to calm down.

     "Sorry about that, Error," Nightmare said, but there was a slight hesitation, like he’d noticed something strange.

     "Yeah, I'm sorry too—I wasn't looking where I was going," Error mumbled.

     Nightmare let it go. "Would you help me train Blank? He needs some practice."

     "Sure," Error agreed quickly.

     It was only then that Error noticed Blank was already there, trailing just behind Nightmare. The faint scrape of Blank’s cane on the floor gave him away.

     They headed to the arena together. Nightmare, knowing the full extent of Error’s power, reminded him to go easy on Blank. Error nodded and took up his position on the far side of the arena. He could hear the soft shuffle of Blank’s feet and the tap of his cane as he settled into his own stance across from him.

     Error braced himself. Sparring with Blank was a risk. One wrong move, and Blank might notice. But backing out now would only raise more questions.

     Nightmare gave the signal.

     "Begin."

     Error heard a line of bone attacks slicing toward him. He quickly fired his strings, swinging himself out of their path. Using the momentum, he launched toward where he knew Blank had been standing and fired a few bones in that direction—weak ones, just enough to sting.

     One of them hit its mark.

     Almost instantly, he heard the telltale charge of a Gaster Blaster powering up. Error dropped from his string, thinking he’d moved out of the firing line—but Blank had been waiting for that. The blast caught him from the side, knocking him hard into the sand.

     Grimacing, Error hauled himself up and shot back into the air, clinging to the ceiling’s shadowy beams. He forced himself to stay silent, moving carefully as he lowered himself just close enough to get a bead on Blank’s position. A faint scrape—the sound of Blank’s shoe shifting on the sand. Error fired a volley of bones in that direction.

     The attack landed, but Blank retaliated immediately. Error caught the movement just in time and twisted his body to dodge the counterstrike, landing heavily on the ground, his strings still taut and ready.

     Blank didn’t let up. He fired another set of bone attacks, and this time, Error activated his soul-sensing technique to track them. His strings whipped out and snagged the bones midair. The moment they touched the strings, they glitched, warping into Error bones. With a sharp flick, Error sent them whipping back toward Blank.

     Blank blocked them with a deft spin of his own bone defenses and then surrounded Error with a circle of blasters.

     Error ducked, quickly raising his own bone shield to absorb the worst of the attack as the blasters fired. Sand exploded around him. As soon as he had an opening, he unleashed a spiral of bones in every direction, forcing Blank to retreat.

     Blank narrowly escaped by hopping onto one of his own blasters, riding it out of the danger zone.

     "Okay, stop the fight. That’s enough," Nightmare called, stepping into the arena as all the remaining attacks vanished into the air. "That was very good, Blank. You’ve got some serious skills."

     "Yeah, well, you fight the human enough times, it starts coming naturally," Blank shrugged, spinning his cane idly.

     Nightmare offered a few more tips and had them spar a little longer. Error was forced to use his special sensing ability more than he wanted, and the drain settled deep in his bones. He was exhausted by the end, more than he let on.

     When Nightmare finally dismissed them, Error headed off to get some food. Blank trailed after him, deciding to join.

     Error was glad to have the chance to get to know the newest member of their team. Blank seemed like a cool guy. Even better, Error had been able to sneak in a few questions about blindness—things he’d always wondered but never really had anyone to ask. The answers were surprisingly useful.

     “Hey, Error, what do you look like?” Blank asked out of the blue.

     Error blinked, realizing Blank didn’t know. He gave a quick shrug and explained. “Well, my bones are black, but some of them have red and yellow on them. My clothes are mostly black too, but there’s some yellow, red, and blue. My eye sockets are red—one of my pupils is white, the other’s blue with black in the middle and a yellow outline. I’ve got these blue marks coming out of my eyes, kinda like tear streaks. My strings come from my eyes, but I usually just wrap them around my fingers—makes them easier to control. I’ve got a lot of scars, and my whole body glitches out all the time. Oh, and don’t touch me. That’ll make me crash, which is… not fun.”

     “Okay, got it. Thanks for explaining! That helps a lot. I used to be able to see, so I can still kind of picture what things look like if I have a good description,” Blank said.

     Error hummed, genuinely curious now. “So… what made you decide to join us?”

     Blank’s expression soured slightly, Error could hear him tense up, fingers scraping against wood. “Well, no one in my timeline ever treated me like an equal. I was always a burden to them because I’m blind. Even the so-called ‘protectors of the multiverse’ didn’t care. They never remembered my AU even existed, and honestly, I think Ink wishes it didn’t.”

     Error frowned. Yeah, he could definitely understand that.

      “Ink’s morals are basically nonexistent, so I’m not surprised. Too bad your own AU didn’t get you either. That really sucks.”

     “Well, that gives me two questions,” Blank said, tilting his head to face Error. Error could hear the movement as the voice came to him more directly. “If you think Ink’s morals are so bad, why do you kill so many people? And… what happened to your AU?”

     The questions were blunt, but Error didn’t mind. He appreciated the honesty.

     “I guess no one told you why I actually destroy AUs yet.” Error leaned back in his chair. “I don’t do it because I want to. I do it because I have to. If I let Ink keep creating AUs like he does, eventually there’d be too many. They’d start colliding and… boom. Total collapse. Everything gone. My whole existence is to make sure that never happens. Ink won’t listen to me, so I have to stop him the hard way.”

       Blank was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, that’s… not what I expected to hear.”

     “Yeah, well, the Star Sanses like to spread their own version of things. Makes it easier to justify trying to kill me,” Error muttered.

     “What about your AU?” Blank asked again, gently this time.

     “Right… well, I didn’t even know I had an AU for the longest time. My memory only went back as far as the Anti-void—that’s where I used to live. It’s this infinite blank space. Pretty much the opposite of the Void. But… I eventually found out where I came from. I remembered it.”

     "Error drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m from the first version of Aftertale. When Ink started losing control, the multiverse needed something to keep him in check. That ‘something’ turned out to be me. I was put in the Anti-void and became Error. I started destroying AUs… and, well, here we are.”

     The rest of their small talk drifted to lighter topics, and Error found himself genuinely enjoying Blank’s company. He was a good guy. Error wished he could ask what Blank looked like, but he couldn’t—not without giving himself away.

     Eventually, Error finished his food and headed off to bed. Sleeping two nights in a row, something must be wrong with me. Error thought jokingly.

     Nothing much happened for a few weeks. Error destroyed some AUs, fought with Ink, and went on missions with Nightmare and the others. Life went on. But then, one day, something strange happened.

     Nightmare woke him up.

     "Error! Wake up." Nightmare's voice was urgent.

     Error groaned. He hated the groggy feeling sleep gave him every morning, but he’d needed the rest after healing from some particularly bad wounds.

     "What?" he mumbled.

     "Look at me." Nightmare said.

     Error turned toward the sound of his voice. "What is it?"

     There was silence.

     "What?" Error asked again, now starting to get confused.

     "Don’t you see?" Nightmare’s voice was low, almost uncertain.

     "No… it's kind of dark in here." Error said.

     "The lights are on," Nightmare revealed.

     Error felt his stomach drop. Panic surged in his chest.

     "Oh. Uh, right. Weird. Maybe I’m sick or something," he fumbled, scrambling for an excuse.

     "You don’t get sick," Nightmare reminded him.

     Great. Forgot I told him that, Error thought bitterly.

      "You really don’t notice anything?" Nightmare pressed.

     Error’s mind raced. He couldn’t fake his way out of this.

     "Oh! Yeah. That is pretty different," he bluffed weakly.

     "What’s different?" Nightmare asked, voice sharp now, catching on.

     Error’s panic spiked. He had nothing. No excuse. No plan.

     "Uh…"

     Nightmare’s tone softened, but his question hit like a direct shot.

     "Error. Are you blind?"

     Error’s heart sank. That was the question he’d been desperately hoping to avoid. He took a shaky breath. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. He had been thinking about telling Nightmare. Fate didn’t want him to tell anyone, but at this point, there was no escaping it.

     "Yeah. I am." He admitted, voice quiet but steady.

     Nightmare was silent for a long moment.
"Well… that’s not what I expected to happen today. When did this happen?"

     "Right before I disappeared for so long. Ink drank his red vial and landed a direct hit. I thought it would heal, but… it never did."

     "Why didn’t you tell me?"

     Error hesitated. "I… I was scared. That you’d treat me differently, or think I was weak. I know that’s stupid, but I wasn’t even allowed to tell you anyway. Fate said I couldn’t tell anyone, friend or enemy."

     "You didn’t need to be afraid. You’ve been hiding this for months, Error. That’s seriously impressive. And, uh, sorry if I just got you in trouble with Fate."

     "Yeah, well, it was bound to happen eventually." Error rubbed the back of his neck. "Just… please don’t tell the others. Fate’ll really lose it."

     "Alright. Deal."

     Error’s curiosity finally got the better of him. "What the heck is so different about you, anyway?"

     "Oh! Yeah. Remember when I told you about my past? The part you promised to keep secret?"

     "Yeah. What about it?"

     "Well… I ran into this Sans with weird powers, and now I look like my old self."

     "Wait, so you’re not a goopy octopus right now?"

     "Yep. Totally solid. No tentacles."

     "Wish I could see that," Error muttered.

     "Why’d you come to me about this?" he asked.

     "Because I don’t want the others to know. They don’t know about my past, and I don’t know when I’ll change back. I’m weaker in this form too."

     "So you're afraid you'll lose their respect." Error filled in the blanks.

     "Um… yeah." Nightmare mumbled, clearly embarrassed to admit it.

     "Chill out. I’m your best friend. I already know you’re afraid sometimes, just like everyone else. And didn’t you just tell me I shouldn’t be afraid to reveal my secrets because none of you would treat me differently?"

     "This is different," Nightmare insisted.

     "How? Sounds pretty much the same to me. And their respect for you isn’t just about your power level. Everyone under this roof is your friend, Night. They care about you. They won’t care if you’re different."

     Nightmare sighed. "You’re right. As always."

     "You should tell them. No one’s going to beat you up for it. And honestly? They’ve known you this long—it’s about time they knew."

     "Alright, fine." Nightmare gave in with a small smile. "I guess it’s a good thing Blank showed up when he did. We put in blind accommodations for him—now you can actually use them."

     "Yeah, I was kind of grateful for that only I couldn't use them in front of anyone. Also, I think Cross is getting pissed that I won't read anything he tries to show me." Error said regretfully. Nightmare laughed.

     "That's actually really funny. He would be mad too, but I'm sure he'll get over it. You needed glasses before you went blind so you can cover by saying you hate wearing glasses but can't read without them." Nightmare suggested. Error paused for a second.

     "How did I not think of that?" He wondered aloud.

Nightmare laughed harder. "Oh, shut up! It's not that funny." Error grumbled.

     "There's the Error I'm used to!" Nightmare teased.

     "Shut up." Error grumbled.

     They talked for a while longer until the voices in Error’s head started screaming at him to get to the Anti-void.

     "I need to go. Wish me luck."

     "Good luck, Error. See you later." Nightmare smiled, heading off to reveal his own secrets to the others.

     Error teleported to the Anti-void, where he was immediately overwhelmed by the suffocating presence—and the unmistakable fury—of Fate.

     “Error.” Fate’s voice cut through the emptiness, sharp and cold.

     “I’m sorry, Fate! I was backed into a corner—I couldn’t lie my way out!” Error tried to explain, desperation leaking into his voice.

     “I don’t care how it happened. You still disobeyed me. And now, you’ll pay for it.”

     Error clenched his fists, shutting his eyes—not that it made much difference. He braced himself for the pain he knew was coming.

______

     Nightmare was surprised by the warm welcome his friends gave him when they found out about his secret past, identity, and real relationship with Dream. Instead of fear or rejection, they accepted him. They understood.

     Error was right, he thought, relief flooding him. I should’ve told them sooner.

     He was still in the middle of talking with them when Error suddenly teleported into the room.

     But something was wrong. Error didn’t arrive in his usual controlled way. His aim was off. He didn’t even make it to his room. He appeared right in front of them, collapsing onto the floor.

     Nightmare’s heart dropped.

     Error was bleeding—badly. He was trembling, his breathing ragged, pain radiating from him in waves. Everyone stared, frozen in shock.

     “Error!” Nightmare snapped into action. “Killer, go get the first aid kit—now!”

     Killer bolted from the room, his footsteps quickly fading. Nightmare dropped to his knees beside Error. “Don’t freak out. It’s just me,” he said as calmly as he could, though his hands shook as he carefully assessed the injuries. Deep gashes and blood—way too much blood.

     Damn it, Fate. You went too far this time.

     Killer rushed back in and thrust the kit into Nightmare’s hands. “Here!”

     “Thanks,” Nightmare muttered, immediately tearing it open and pulling out the bandages.

     “Alright, Error, I know you hate physical contact—but you’ll have to deal with it. This is necessary.” He tried to make his voice light, but worry crept in anyway.

     Error tensed but didn’t resist. He was too weak to fight it.

     Nightmare worked as quickly as he could, hands steady now despite the pressure. But just as he was finishing the last of the bandages—Error crashed.

     “Crap.” Nightmare cursed under his breath. He hated seeing him like this.

     When Error rebooted, he was still too out of it to move. Nightmare finished the bandaging and carefully opened a portal to Error’s room. He carried him through and gently settled him into bed.

     Error was asleep almost immediately.

     Nightmare stood there for a long moment, guilt gnawing at him. This is my fault. If I hadn’t pushed him to admit it, Fate wouldn’t have punished him. He clenched his fists. If Fate wasn’t so cruel…

     But there was nothing he could do now. None of them had healing magic. All they could do was wait and help Error through it the best they could.

     You’ll get through this, Error. I’ll make sure you do.

____

     When Error finally woke up, he was surprised by how much better he felt. He still couldn’t see—of course—but the pounding in his head had dulled, and he didn’t feel like he was bleeding anymore. Gingerly, he touched his arms where he remembered the worst of his injuries. Bandages. Lots of them.

     He sighed in quiet relief. The voices were finally silent, for once. That’s… nice, he thought. Really nice.

     As he sat up, the door creaked open.

     “Error! You’re awake!” Killer’s voice rang out, his footsteps quickly crossing the room.

     “Yeah, I’m up. How long was I out?” Error asked, his voice a little scratchy.

     “It’s been a day and a half,” Killer told him.

     Error nodded slowly. Could’ve been worse.

     “How do you feel?” Killer asked, anxiety creeping into his voice.

     “Better. Still pretty sore though.” Error flexed his fingers carefully, testing the stiffness in his joints.

     He could tell Killer nodded even though he couldn’t see it.

     “Do you want me to get you something to drink? Wait—do you even need to drink?” Killer asked, sounding genuinely confused.

     “I don’t need to, but… water sounds good right now,” Error admitted.

     “Okay! I’ll be right back!” Killer promised, and Error heard him dash out, the door clicking shut behind him.

     Alone, Error sat quietly, feeling the faint pull of the bandages and the aching throb beneath them. He wasn’t used to stillness like this. Even the Anti-void had its oppressive pressure. This quiet? This was rare.

     The door creaked again as Killer returned. His footsteps hurried across the floor, the sound of sloshing water close to Error’s ears.

     “Here.” Killer pressed the cool glass into Error’s waiting hands.

     “Thanks,” Error mumbled.

     “No problem!” Killer chirped. “I’m gonna go tell Nightmare you’re up. He’s been really worried about you.”

     Error heard him rush out again, the door clicking shut once more.

     Left alone, Error drank slowly, feeling the water slide down his throat. He wasn’t even sure when he’d last had a drink. When was the last time I needed water? The thought struck him as oddly funny. Nothing in his life ever really made sense, did it?

     But for now, it was enough to sit here quietly—with the voices silent, the pain manageable, and the lingering warmth of knowing someone had been waiting for him to wake up.

     He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps. They crossed the threshold of his room, and then a familiar voice spoke up, relief evident in his tone. “Error? You’re really awake!”

     Error huffed a small laugh. “Did you think Killer lied to you?”

     “Well, no. I just…” Nightmare trailed off, suddenly sheepish. “I was worried I’d get here and you’d be asleep again, I guess.”

     Error smirked. “You really couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”

     Nightmare ignored the tease. “How do you feel?”

     “Fine. Just sore,” Error answered honestly.

     Nightmare nodded before catching himself—right, he can’t see that. “That’s good,” he said aloud, a little awkwardly.

     Error fumbled with his empty cup, feeling along the nightstand until he finally managed to set it down without knocking anything over. He sighed, a bit frustrated at how long that had taken him. “So… what’d I miss while I was out?”

     Nightmare sat down somewhere nearby—Error could hear the creak of wood beneath him. “Not much. The usual. Horror tried to eat someone again.”

     “Classic.”

     “Cross and Killer fought over chocolate. Again.”

     “Of course.”

     “Dust threatened to dust everyone. Again.”

     “Shocking.”

     Nightmare snorted. “Blank says he finds it all funnier when he can’t see any of it and can only hear us losing our minds.”

     Error paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Huh. That’s kinda like me when I used to watch Undernovela. I didn’t know a word anyone was saying at first—I was just watching the chaos and trying to piece it together. Took me a while to catch on to the plot. And I even picked up a lot of the language eventually.”

     Nightmare hummed, amused. “So Blank’s basically doing it in reverse. He understands everything we’re saying, but can’t see the circus around him.”

     “Exactly. Honestly? He might be better off that way.”

     Nightmare chuckled. “Yeah. Seeing Killer and Cross wrestle on the kitchen floor over a chocolate bar is an image you can’t unsee.”

     “I almost feel bad missing that one,” Error admitted with a grin. “Almost.”

     “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll do it again.”

     They stayed like that for a while, quietly enjoying each other’s company. The Anti-void’s weight still pressed on Error’s mind, a dull reminder of Fate’s punishment, but here—in this room, in this moment—he felt lighter.

     They talked a while longer, the comfort of familiar voices easing the tension that lingered between them. Eventually, Nightmare sighed and muttered, "I'm sorry I got you in trouble with Fate."

     Error waved the apology off, though he knew Nightmare wouldn’t let it go so easily. “It’s fine. You didn’t know. You couldn’t have known.”

     He hoped Nightmare would believe him, but deep down, he knew how his friend worked. Nightmare would probably apologize again later—maybe more than once. He always did in situations like this. Error was already preparing himself for the next round of convincing.

     “I’m still sorry,” Nightmare said quietly.

      Error frowned, knowing words wouldn’t reach him yet. Typical.

     “Well… I should let you rest. You’re still pretty banged up.”

     “Yeah, probably,” Error admitted, though he added quickly, “I’ll be fine. I’ve already healed a lot. Nothing to worry about.”

     Nightmare didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he still said, “Alright. Get some rest, Error.”

     “See you later, Night.”

     The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Error alone again. The silence settled around him, but for once it didn’t feel suffocating. He let out a breath and shifted under the blankets.

     I might as well actually sleep this time, he thought, allowing his body to finally relax.

     It didn’t take long before exhaustion pulled him under.