Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1x4 was many things. Monster. Killer. Hatred. Cruel. Hell, even a ‘mistake’ indirectly from its creator during one of their fights.

It stung but they were used to it. 

This was new.

____________________

When a Killer is brought into a round, they are not teleported directly there, no. They are shoved into a large rectangular metal room, walls on all sides and a red and green button at a far end with a doorway. Stuck like a trapped animal until the buttons light up and they can wreak havoc. 

This round was its turn again. The last one was C00lKidd’s. Spent the whole round trying to “tag” his dad while he sent clone and texts to the other survivors. A good tactic if it would say so. 

That was a quick round and the father-son duo seemed to have fun, despite the death run 007n7 was doing. 

There was no wind nor dramatic entrance as it was released. They had fun tormenting everyone, specifically Shedletsky, fueled by hatred and the fears of others, the darkness helped cover much of their tracts as it moved from survivor to survivor. 

The round was a bloody mess. 

The Survivors knew they would never survive long with 1x4. Many of the survivors attempted to at least start a generator or Elliot was shoving pizzas down someone’s throat, Noob‘s. It caught a glimpse of Two Time praying again, surrounded by salt, and 1337 trying to stun it, he was dealt with accordingly.

Through the whole thing, it never saw 007n7 in the crowd. That shouldn’t be new considering that the survivors didn’t seem to like him, must be some past beef, but the survivor count was dwindling by the moment.

Among that, they have yet to see his clone too. Usually if he was far he’d send his clone as an assistant or a distraction, but not this time. The round was getting quieter as each survivor met their end by its blade or claw.

Yet they had yet to see the loving father. 1x4 has yet to be concerned about it winning. It’s not uncommon for 007n7 to be the last survivor, it’s become something to be expected with his c00lgui and all, but usually the killer would have at least caught a glimpse or two of the man. Hell, he was seen the whole round with C00lKidd. 

The round was coming to a close fast, every second not spent killing was another second lost for 1x4. 

It checked another corner, spotting Chance getting fucking blown up by his own gun, again. That’s the last survivor, minus 007n7, of course.

There was a minute left on the clock. It had time for a sweep across the field to find the survivor.

…or it can slice its eye out and find him then. 

The blurry silhouette of two people with a hat can be found at the far end of where it was, hiding behind a building, one kneeling over another. 

It chuckled darkly. “1 s33 y0u…(I see you...)”

The words echo through the empty space, words bouncing off the walls and back at it. It shoves the slit eye back into its socket before readying its blade and sprinting toward the hacker and clone. Its interest peaked though, usually 007n7’s clones would run around aimlessly or help another if he was unavailable, mostly used to body block. 

They’d never seen him use them to help himself though, what could have happened? He wasn’t even near 1x4 the whole round so he couldn’t have done anything. Would the survivors? Probably not, they're a cowardly and foolish bunch. They wouldn’t be able to harm someone on their own side, they need all the manpower they could for the rounds. 

1x4 had yet to turn the corner when the sound of pained grunts and labored breathing could be heard. 

That’s… odd. 

It turned the corner to an unusual sight.

There laid 007n7, face flushed, sweat rolling down his face, a c00lgui panel open, just floating around, and sitting next to him, a clone. Said clone was washing a piece of cloth in a bowl, wringing it, then folding and placing it over Seven’s forehead. 

He looked… sickly. Clearly ill and uncomfortable. From where it stood, it could have mistaken him for having a nightmare, if it wasn’t for the fact that Seven’s eyes fluttered open weakly every once in a while.

There was a medkit sitting by. The contents spilled on and around it. Much of it was still there but the pills that usually are discarded were gone. 

Yep, definitely ill.

1x4 walked over quietly, its footsteps barely making a sound.

As it neared, it could see the subtle movements and gestures that would have been lost if someone was looking from afar. 

The subtle tremors that echoed through him, the labored breathing, fogged and unfocused eyes, and most of all, the small coughs and sneezes that followed every couple of moments.

1x4 was standing over him, watching this pitiful man lay helplessly beneath it, practically bedridden, and it could only wonder.

Why was it still standing there?

It had around 40 seconds left, it could very easily kill Seven in one slash. 

So why hadn’t they done that yet?

The clone was still helping and monitoring his health, switching between pill and cold towels, while all but ignoring them being there. It could slice the thing in half and snap the man’s neck right then and there. 

Yet, it didn’t do that.

It was still standing there, sword in hand, ready to swing at him.

But it didn’t.

Instead, it knelt down, and stared.

It didn’t say anything, yet. It just, stared.

007n7’s eyes finally cleared enough to see 1x4 staring down at him, although it was clear that he didn’t recognize them enough to panic. He flinched a little under its analytical gaze.

There was a clear attempt at keeping his eyes open, but they kept rolling back a few times. The gui was summoned over when Seven raised his hand. He was only able to type a “hey” on the c00lgui at 1x4, which just looked at him a little amused. This man was so obviously unfit for social interactions, yet still tried his hardest to be polite and greet them even though he knew that his death would be soon.

How amusing.

But… despite how amusing it may be, they’d rather be able to chase someone than watch them sit there with an injury not caused by it.

“…Y0ur… s1ck.(...Your... sick.)” It wasn’t a question. It’s glitching voice gave nothing

Seven blinked back at it, too out of it to respond vocally. He typed out a shaky, “yeah” before his hand went limp. The clone took this as a sign to resoak the cloth and drape it over his forehead again. It seemed he had more to say but didn’t have the strength to.

It tilted its head at him. Curious? Maybe. Maybe not. It wasn’t satisfying to see him like this. Why isn’t it? They… didn’t like seeing him like his. Not as much as it thought it would. 

It looked to the medkit. The pills were half empty. 

1x4 didn’t think too hard about it before grabbing what remained of the pills and shoving it into 007n7’s left hand, the one not shaped like claws and jagged arm parts, like Mr. Doe but without the binary. 

“H01d 1t t1ght. Y0u’11 b3 t313p0rt3d w1th th3 1t3m. 1t w0n’t kn0w.”(Hold it tight. You'll be teleported with the item. It won't know.) His hand was warm. It made sure that his hand wrapped around the object before letting go of his hand.

They missed the warmth.

They could see him processing what it said, his mind working overtime to process things. There was a vague nod of confusion, probably not understanding why it’s doing this instead of just killing him. It didn’t know either.

They gave a subtle nod back. It raised its blade.

There was a look of fear, something they were accustomed to, before that was washed away as it beheaded him. Its blade made quick work of him. The round ended. It heard the familiar sound play as it was teleported back.

____________________

Later, sometime after the round, when everyone was allowed to rest, they got a pop up.

They were sitting in its room, sitting on its bed, walls barren, decorated only with small kids drawings of things scattered here and there. C00lKidd laid next to it, arms tightly wrapping its midsection with his tail coiled around their leg. 

C00lKidd was one of the few killers that 1x4 didn’t mind all that much being around, his behavior a bit of a refresher from all the seriousness the other killers portrayed, like it was any better. He sometimes liked sleeping with 1x4 just because. 1x4 reminded C00lKidd of his dad, not that they knew.

It was a simple thing, the pop up. The thing was on a black background outlined in red. The C00lgui. It didn’t know that he could send messages between places. It thought that The Spector prevented it. Apparently, they were wrong. 

The gui read: “Thanks for what you did. You didn’t need to, but I’m feeling better because of it, so thank you. You were very helpful.” Short, simple, and straightforward. It wasn’t anything flashy or over the top. Just genuine and honest. 

It stared at the message, eye baring into the words. Helpful. It… was helpful. It hadn’t been called helpful… ever, it doesn't think. This was a first. 

There was no way to respond to it, not that they knew what to say, only an X on the top right. It closed the message. 1x4’s thought tried to decipher any other meaning behind the words. Nothing. 

It decided to ponder this a different time, C00lKidd’s faces was scrunching up a bit. A nightmare, maybe. They ran a hand through his hair, it… could be hair, the soft almost fluffy mass of fur on his head was probably the closest thing to it. His face relaxed again.

It ran its hand through his hair a bit more before laying down next to him and closing its eye, C00lKidd snuggling up closer. They’ll think about it later.

Chapter Text

Death wasn’t fun. At least for most.

It can be many things: peaceful, painful, horrific, traumatizing, if the person comes back. Especially over and over again.

007n7 shoots up from his bed, breathing heavily and face flushed. Coming back from death, even from the amount that he had, was always a little disorientating. He breathed in, eyes closing as he focused on grounding himself. His mind was still foggy, and there was sweat collecting on his brow, but he could remember what had happened moments before.

He looked down and uncurled his left hand. True to their word, there laid the pill bottle from the medkit he scavenged earlier that round. Seven looked at it in mild disbelief. He didn’t expect the killer to actually be truthful about something like this. This was more a secret to keep for one's gain instead of sharing with others, especially someone on the enemy team. 

Nonetheless, he popped the cap off, took two pills without water, and placed the bottle on his nightstand, a small two-drawer table with a small lamp, and put his head in his hands, being mindful of his devil horns. It felt wrong to take them without water but he just didn’t have enough strength left to get some. His temperature was still high, mildly cooler with the cold rag, but rising to what it was just before the round. 

007n7 doesn’t know how he got sick, but he has a vague suspicion. 

Now, Seven isn't that old, around 34 last he checked, but he wasn’t like how he was before. Not touching on the crimes involving hacking and arson, Seven was considered healthy, if not mentally, then physically. Or always physically. He very rarely got sick, even less after creating the C00lgui, but when he did, it always hit hard and lasted for weeks. 

After adopting C00lKidd, he cared less for his health and more for his son’s. That caused it to slowly deteriorate over time. However, he didn’t notice this since the gui basically maintained it all for him. And now that the gui is weakened, much of its functions are basically nonexistent, and he’s sick, Seven gets to feel it full force.

The chase between him and C00lKidd earlier must have been a cause since he hadn’t needed to teleport, run, and down so many Blocky Colas in one sitting back to back. He mostly did generators and distractions here and there when spotted, nothing like what happened 2 rounds ago. The sudden switch must have caused something to weaken and caused him to catch something. 

007n7 decided to stop thinking about how and more about when he’ll feel better and finally contribute to the team. 1x4’s trick might help. Maybe. 

Speaking of 1x4, he should thank them. 

No one checks on Seven often, and if they do, it was just Guest 1337, his cabinmate, checking that he’s alive, so he doesn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him with his gui.

He opens the C00llgui and scrolls a now very short list of commands to run and picked Private Message. The gui changed to a list of people, each with their names and faces next to each other, and each having a message and a one-way message button. 

He searches 1x4’s name and pressed the one-way message, he doesn’t think they’ll want or have anything to say back, and watches as the gui changes again. The screen looks something similar to a Google Doc with Edit and Format on the top left, a bar of text orientation, fonts, and sides right below, and Send at the bottom right.

He’ll make this quick. 

“Thanks for what you did. You didn’t need to, but I’m feeling better because of it, so thank you. You were very helpful.” The gui read. It wasn’t much, but the honesty and genuineness were there. He hit Send and watched as the screen disappeared, pixel by pixel, till the whole thing was sent. Another panel asking if the message should be sent immediately or at a specific time and when.

He chose 10 pm.

007n7 sighed and leaned back, his back hitting the wall behind him. He wasn’t lying when he said he felt better. It might have been the opportunity to rest and not run for his life, or the reset, or the pills, but he was feeling a bit better. His mind wasn’t as foggy, and he could feel some strength returning. 

It wasn’t enough to say that he’ll be able to run again so soon. It bugged him a little why 1x4 helped him. It had no reason to, none that he could think of at least. Like, he was defenseless, vulnerable, helpless, and completely alone. An easy kill. The thoughts swirled in his mind, attempts at reason, but none had a conclusion. He shook his head, he should get something to eat, he'll think about why later. He gathered as much energy as he could before getting up and heading outside. 

The never-off lights of the main cabin, commonly known as The Lobby, was as lively as ever. Most of the survivors tend to hang around there, mostly to socialize and eat whatever either Elliot or Shedletsky, he’s apparently a good cook, cooked that night. Most times they’ll gather, have some kind of meal from the semi-limited kitchen, chat, and then either get teleported to another round, or go and rest. It’s also where those not killed would get teleported to.

The Lobby was a big one-room two-story area that could fit all The Survivors and Killers and still would have enough room for another 300 people.

The front right of the cabin was a living room-like area with a fireplace and bookshelves lining next to it. There was even a grandfather clock that allows them to skip rounds for a curtain amount of rounds and a cat that comes and goes from near there. The front left had a sitting area and the stairway upstairs. Back was a dining-like area, booths along the wall, and a long dining table in the middle having enough chairs for each of them. Apparently, that table grew with each new survivor added. The kitchen was under the stairs; it looked smaller at a glance, but was actually quite spacious. Upstairs was a small balcony-like area with 2 DDR machines and a TV with beanbags surrounding it. The TV only showed a panda.

Not many were in there today; everyone had died, and dinner wasn’t a scheduled thing. Chance and Elliot were sitting by the fireplace, chatting. It was pretty clear that Chance was flirting, but Elliot wasn’t reciprocating, not that he didn’t like him, they are a thing, them and one other that no one has figured out yet, but those bags under his eyes are telling. Even from where 007n7 was standing by the doorway, those are some large eyebags. 

The two take notice of him, Elliot gave a slight nod, just acknowledging him, while Chance waved happily before going back to his bad pickup lines. He nodded back before walking towards the kitchen. 1337 can be seen holding a photograph with his back turned from 007n7.

Shedletsky could be found in the kitchen marinating chicken, again. He seemed too distracted and eager to notice Seven, so Seven grabbed a paper plate and two pizza slices, it seemed like Elliot cooked today, and headed back to the cabin, not home, never now.

He sat on his bed and ate the slices in silence, his mind wandering back to earlier. It bugged him to no end why they did what they did. 

Seven was pretty sure that 1x4 was made almost entirely of hatred, directed mostly at Shedletsky for reasons unknown, but they showed kindness when he laid there, health draining like he was poisoned, which, he definitely felt like it. It was a little jarring now that he thinks about it. It had no reason to, at least, none that made sense.

It confused him to no end. 

The whole interaction was more positive than his interaction with The Survivors, and that had ended with DEATH. It didn’t even feel like a mercy kill either, like that made anything better. He’d rather it had been a mercy kill than whatever that was!

007n7 could hear the front door shut as someone approached and knocked on his door. 

Seven collected himself and made an attempt to look like he wasn’t having a crisis and sick at the same time, the latter was more difficult. 

“Come in.” He called, making a last ditched effort to look somewhat presentable as Guest 1337 entered, looking around like he expected something to be hiding there.

“Hey Seven,” His posture was relaxed, if a bit awkward, the usual when talking with 007n7. If not that then hatred. “Just checking in on yah.” His tone is casual with hints of worry. Not unusual with him, he worries about everyone. 

Seven puts on his best reassuring smile and waves him off a little. “I’m fine, just a bit tired is all.” He was being just half truthful. 

1337 nodded as he surveyed Seven’s posture and face, noting the heavier bags under his eyes and how he was trying to make himself smaller as Guest stared.

“Right.” He wasn’t convinced and walked over to sit next to him on the bed. “How are you actually though, don’t think I’ve seen you last round.” It wasn’t a question. 

007n7 averted eye contact, shifting a little under his gaze. It’s been a while since he’s been interrogated, especially from someone of power, he’d be dumb not to notice the military gear and professional looking fighting stance and how he’s training Noob to fight. 

He should be used to this, especially back in his days during his… questionable decisions and career, but things fade after ten years. 

“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry about me.” His smile came across as nervous, maybe even a little forced, when he faced 1337. 

Guest squinted, not convinced. His eyes searched him for anything, anything to help with or crack Seven’s rather tight lipped personality and background, but came out empty-handed. He sighed defeatly and got up. 

“If you say so.” He was evidently unhappy with the answer but wasn’t gonna push it. “But if you need anything, let me know.” Those were his parting words as they both turned in for the night. 

007n7’s smile fell as he stared at where he left. His mind wandered a bit. Back to the moment. To the round. To 1x-. He forced them back and gave a forceful shake to rid him of the thoughts. It’s best he sleep on this. Hopefully it’ll get better. 

Seven lays down and stared at the ceiling. 

His mind wanders.

He forced his eyes shut. Seven pulled the pillow over his ears and blanket over his head. 

It’s gonna be a difficult night.

Chapter Text

It’s been a few days since what 1x4 calls “Sick Day”, and things have gone back to normal. Well, as normal as things are with them, at least. Seven is still sick but less bedriddenly and dying and more… hard coughs and crater-size dad sneezes.

The Spectre suspected nothing, and if it did, then it didn’t differ. The killing went as usual, maybe with a few exceptions… now. But everything went fine. 

Mr. Doe is still as violent and forgetful. Jason is still as silent and rages The Survivors, him and his ungodly hitbox… Mafioso is still quiet and blushing over someone on the phone, 1x4 didn’t know who, it doesn’t care. C00lKidd is still energetic and childish. Bluudud is still a massive gamer. Pr3typriincess is still the best behaving. Asure is still also talking over someone on the phone, like Mafioso but much angrier. And Noli is still the drama queen clown that they are. 

And 1x4 is… still violently angry… but… less around… him. 

Now, if you mention this around it they will deny anything and everything regarding him. 

No, they did not spare him 10 seconds longer by chasing his clone even though they knew it was a clone. No, they are not saving him for Last Man Standing whenever it's their turn. No, they definitely are not changing their usual attack for Beheading mid round for him. No, they definitely do not exchange words whenever no one is watching, no matter how far and few those stunted interactions are. And no. They. Are not. Going. Soft. Fuck you Noli.

1x4 watches the current round in their room, away from others. The screen floats in front of them like an overly high tech tablet, names on the middle bottom, the left and right arrow keys that switched between POVs were located there too. The map was Underground War, and currently the only ones still alive were Shedletsky, Chance, Elliot, Taph… and 007n7.

The killers don't usually watch the rounds unless they're bored or spectating a specific someone, something C00lKidd did most when not playing.

And what 1x4’s doing right now.

1x4 watched from Seven’s perspective, they’ll claim that it's for tactical reasons but we all know why, as the man hid behind a building with the probably-in-debt Chance sitting next to him, flipping his coin over and over, again. He was scouting for Jason, this round's killer, and chatting politely with Chance. They seem to be on good terms so that’s good. 1x4 is gla- wait. 

1x4 looked away from the screen, their hand once hovering over the arrow key now planted next to them. They are… glad. They… were glad. This… is new. 1x4… haven’t or well, more accurately, hadn’t felt glad since… ever? They couldn’t remember the first time they felt glad. I mean, it's to be expected. Its only ever felt hatred, anger, and rage with most things. No matter how calm it may seem, they are still boiling with anger on the inside.

There's only been maybe 2 other instances that it felt something that wasn’t something negative. 

Sure, it has felt glimpses of something other than anger, like annoyance and confusion, but those have only lasted maybe moments at best. These weren’t like those.

The first time was when it first met C00lKidd. 

There was an announcement that a new killer would be brought in so the three, Jason, Mr. Doe, and 1x4, stood around the spawn location, the foot of the stairs at the front door, waiting for the new killer. 

It didn’t know what it was expecting, maybe an ADULT, but they weren’t expecting a malnourished demon child the color of period stain. And a tall one too. It was a bit hard to tell that he was a child until he started speaking.

They could still hear the fear, the confusion, where his dad was, what happened, all those questions could be heard muttering from him as the first round of the day began. Oh how quickly those fearful murmurs became excited laughter in an instant. 

It was like a switch had been flicked. 

His first day, and already chosen as Killer.

It and the other two watched his round, just to get a gander on his personality and kill style.

1x4 had thought these were the kid’s true colors but the genuine childish wonder as well as what he’d said during his round proved it wrong. 

Actually, the whole thing could be summed up just from how C00lKidd reacted seeing 007n7. 

Just pure. Childish. Joy and laughter at seeing his dad. 

Seven was Last Man Standing so it had expected the usual ominous song to play but no, instead, it played a different song. Called Plead. 

1x4 had watched the whole match. He’d seen the way others acted around killers. 

This was new. 

It had stirred something in it. 

It… didn’t know what it was at the moment but they knew that they had to protect this kid’s innocence for however long they are trapped here. 

They didn’t have a reason to justify why it suddenly became so protective over the new kid, but they didn’t need one, the others just… decided they would too… in their own way. No questions asked.

What they felt then was protectiveness that lasted way longer than their usual feels. 

That was its first and this… 

They looked at the screen again. The scene changed to a different building, Seven could be seen peeking around a corner with a gash on his arm and slashes against his neck. A Slash and Behead combo. Chance was nowhere to be seen, probably dead, and Jason could be seen chasing Shedletsky, who’s missing a wing and covered in slashes, slashes that are normally fatal but thanks to a certain someone, they aren’t.

1x4 couldn’t place their finger on it but something similar was happening. 

Whatever it is they… aren’t bothered by it. 

They think they should be but… they aren’t. 

They didn’t dwell on it long, very much preferring not to be stuck in an inner terminal with their feelings. 

By the time it focused on the round, it had already ended. Jason won. The screen flashed before folding in on itself and disappearing. The last round of the day, it always ended with the main four.

1x4 had started getting up when-

Their phone buzzed. 

A quick glance and they could already feel the headache coming along.

Queer Fucking Killers :)

Jason

Mr. Doe got into the kitchen again.

We’re not sorry

____________________

The phone cracked. Then repaired itself. Then broke. And reformed on its bedside table, repaired.

There was a rule. Made specifically by 1x4 and later Asure. To never. And they mean never. Let. John Motherfucking Doe. Into. The kitchen. 

Its glare was menacing. They made that rule for a reason. 

The first and last time he was let into the kitchen, unsupervised, was the same time, half the cabin blew up and sat on fire.

“J0HN D03 Y0U M0TH3RFUCK3R! G3T 0UT 0F TH3 K1TCH3N!(JOHN DOE YOU MOTHERFUCKER! GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN!)” It could be seen dashing from its room, on the second floor, and jumping off the railing to the first floor.

Chapter Text

007n7

007n7 is a mess.

Sure he’s always a mess, exactly around the others, but not like this!!!

He could hide it relatively well with The Survivors, no one’s paying much attention, but with The Killers, especially… 1x4 but shhhh, it’s not relevent, it’s a bit harder. They notice things that even he doesn’t. 

It’s usually one of the C00lKiddlings. They point out things only a child could see, like when C00lKidd said “Why are you sad?” Or “Where’s your party?” by Bluudud, or “You should have a tea party with me and relax.” from Pr3typriincess. These questions usually aren’t answered since immediately after they follow it with some form of, “Don’t worry, I’ll fix that!” and it’s a quick death for him. 

Now, 007n7 is fucked. He is fucked. So royalty fucked. Hold shit, tell C00lKidd he loves him.

There he laid, alone, with all the Survivors dead, with 1X4 OF ALL PEOPLE. WHAT’S HAPPENING!

And whys’ he not dead yet?

____________________

The map was Horror Hotel. A, quite frankly, great map for 007n7. Lots of hiding spots with minimal open spaces and tight corners to lose Killers around. 

But also filled with dead ends if not careful.

He’d spent much of the round hiding away in those bedrooms in that one hall… Seven has no idea what it's actually called, while also doing the generator found in the rooms’ closet.

He'd actually been hiding there, like a coward, just biding his time, hearing the distant slashing and music that followed 1x4 as they ran though the halls towards the others, trying to keep the coughing to a minimum, and survive. 

Until… the unmistakable song of Last Man Standing began playing…

‘Great. Awesome. Amazing. Absolutely. Terrific.’ Of course he’d be Last Man Standing, again! Of course it was him and 1x4 specifically. 

What’s gotten into The Killer?

He’d much rather not find out. With the bare minimum info that he has about them, Seven could tell it had anger issues, a sword, poison damage(scarlet rot for nerds), and really wants to chat with 007n7 for some reason.

It’s just great that not only is he LMS… but that he’s also cornered without a way out without gaining 1x4’s attention in some way! Maybe the round will outline him, maybe it’ll use Unstable Eye, maybe he’ll just be found by Chance! …That’s not a pun. And contrary to popular opinion, Seven would much rather not die. Thank you very much!

Not to mention that 1x4 seemed even more irritated than they usually are. Did something happen? He does want to know but that’ll put him in a very dangerous position with a dangerously angry Killer.

007n7 felt his balance shift. His eyes blurred as he struggled to stand upright in the closet, it was probably the safest place in there, holding a wall for stability after a bit. 

He blinked.

…Did he take the pills this morning? 

He… can't remember.

He should have. He needs to heal quickly before someone notices and speaks up about it. Seven hoped he’d at least hid it well enough that The Survivors don’t notice. He shouldn’t be burdening them more than he should.

He stifles a cough, it won’t do him any good making noise. 

His legs gave way as he fell and kneeled on the floor, arm shaking, barely holding himself up. 

God, this is why he hated getting sick.

Even more so now with his deteriorated health. 

His arm shakes. His mind whirls. His breathing laboured. His… strength is wilting.

‘Great. Great! Its timing couldn’t ’been better.’ He thought vengefully, a pained half-smile formed on his face. ‘The only thing that could make this worse was if 1x4 suddenly appeared.’

A swish could be heard. 

To his left. 

By the door.

It takes a moment for him to look up but when he does… ‘by The Banlands why did I jinx it!’

There stood 1x4, sword embedded into the floor, arms crossed, and something like a scowl could be made out. 

Seven gives a half-wave with his free hand and a very forced half-hearted crooked smile. ‘Why do we keep meeting like this!?’ 

“Hey…” The air felt heavy, not in the “I’m gonna die” way, but more like the “This looks pretty pathetic doesn’t it” way. Honestly, 007n7 should kneel over and die and save himself the humiliation. 

A distorted sigh could be heard, flickers of anger and… not disappointment per se but something similar, could be heard if Seven listened closer. 

“Fuck1ng p4th3t1c.(Fucking pathetic.)” there should have been malice in their voice, yet he couldn’t detect any. 

Crossing the room, 1x4 was swift as they shifted Seven off the wall to then carry him bridal style. No questions asked. 007n7 could feel his face heat up as he instinctively threw his arms around their neck. 

There was a pause. Neither made a move. 

‘Holy shit holy shit holy shit what's happening?!’ Seven could feel his face heat up so much he wouldn’t be too surprised if he gets a fever from it. Distantly he knows he shouldn’t be holding onto 1x4 like this but: 1) His brain is screaming so loud that any thoughts trying to be formed just dies and withers away; 2) 1x4 hasn’t done anything or made a move to drop him yet so… It's probably fine, right? Their face hadn't changed yet. 3) He… doesn't really want to?

After a moment, both stewing in their own thoughts about what's happened, before 1x4 continued walking to the bed. 

They laid the man down surprisingly gently, avoiding eye contact, and tucked him in like a sick child before sitting next to the bed, head down, suddenly finding the carpet very interesting.

Seven laid there, unable to think properly. 

So many things led up to this, yet he doesn’t know how to react. It's been how long since 1x4 and he started this unexpected… not bond but… “friendlyness” might be the closest thing to it. 

Not long that for sure.

He made an attempt to sit upright, stifling a cough and to maybe question their behavior, yet was immediately pressed back onto the bed by 1x4’s suddenly very noticeably muscular arm, as The Killer leaned in and gave him a stern look.

“St0p. Y0u'r3 st111 w34k, y0u'r3 st4y1ng h3r3 unt11 th3 r0und 3nds.(Stop. You’re still weak, you’re staying here until the round ends.)” It practically growled at him. 007n7 thinks he should have been more intimidated, but the only thing running thought his head was ‘too close too close too close!!!’ He gave a faint nod as he lowered himself further onto the bed. They watched him for another moment before sitting back to their original position, keeping their arm on him just to make sure he won't get up again.

Seven sighed a little, this is gonna be a long round.

____________________

1x1x1x1

1x4 was pissed. 

Of course, its always pissed. 

They’re just more so now that Mr. Doe BURNED DOWN THEIR KITCHEN.

Seriously, does that man not understand what “off-limits” means or can he not read? 

Its rage could be felt during its round as it ran around The Hotel in search of its victims. 

Like in most rounds, Noob goes down first, being an easy target, then Elliot as a healer. Chance dies from his own gun, the fucking idiot. Taph had tried to stun it and run but his Tripwire failed and The Tripmine was on cooldown so 1x4 got a few Slash in before he was saved by Shedletsky. 

Shedletsky. 

Oh how his name added fuel to the already enraged fire. 

Seeing him along with having its kitchen burned really wasn't a good mixup. For him, not 1x4.

Its grip on the sword tightened, face hardening into a scowl. 

Their duels never last very long, just long enough for it to become ever more angry at Shedletsky, for lack of a better word, shit-talking its swordsmanship. 

Shedletsky huffed, gasping for breath as he skids a little to the left and back, just out of 1x4’s Slash and Entanglement. A smirk sketches across his face. 

“What’s wrong 1x1x1x1? Your skills are lacking, you going soft?” 

His tone was mocking, taunting, down right deliberate. As he always is. 

Just adding fuel to the fire. 

He dodged another attack just to land in another, losing about 14 damage from a nearby zombie. Where did they come from? Who knows.

‘4nd y0u'r3 g3tt1ng s10w3r, 1s y0ur w31ght f1n411y g3tt1ng t0 y0u!!(And you’re getting slower, is your weight finally getting to you!!)” Shedletsky gets Slashed as 1x4 returns the taunt. 

He hits a wall and moves away just quick enough to avoid another Slash. “Hey! It's just water weight, you neon skeleton!"

He doesn’t get another word in before two more slashes follow and he folds over, dead. 

“W4tch y0ur w0rds, f11ght13ss b1rd. 0h h0w f4r th3 m1ghty h4s f4113n…(Watch your words, flightless bird. Oh how far the mighty has fallen…)”

Its words are left unheard, the zombie having left after his death, leaving it alone.

Again.

It shakes itself out of wherever mental decent it was gonna take, it felt like something had tapped them, before continuing its search for the other three.

Taph and Builderman could be found next to a Dispenser, healing. Taph from earlier and Builderman from a zombie. 1x4 had an advantage with a sneak attack, yet that was squashed when Guest 1337 blocked its attack.

It hissed.

Great. This guy.

1x4 stepped back a bit, blade ready. It doesn’t have much of an opinion on 1337 besides The Survivor being annoying and a good fighter.

It dodged a punch just to land on a Tripmind and get fucking flashbanged. Admins, this is so annoying, Taph is so dead. 

The moment the room stopped ringing and it could see the floor again was when it summoned more zombies. It knows that The Survivors had already fled, so creating more minions would increase its chances of catching them off guard and finally end the round…unless 007n7 is here. It has no proof that he’s here… and they won’t hope. They shouldn’t.

It rips its eye out as it ran though the halls, searching. 

The silhouette of three people could be seen on one side… and someone else on another. 

…They’ll go there later, those three are its main priority.

It cut a Tripwire last minute and dodged a punch and right hook from Guest 1337. Good, that leaves them both on cooldown. 

“Th1s 1s, M4SS 1NF3CT10N!(This is, MASS INFESTATION!)” Guest had the unfortunate luck to get hit by the attack, dealing extra damage from how close he was, he didn’t have a chance to escape before being poisoned, dropping his health from 115 to 40. Taph, getting caught in the cross fire, was killed almost immediately from the slashes and earlier injuries. 

1x4 get another Slash in, letting the poison do its job, as it turned its gaze to Builderman.

Builderman to it, was just as annoying if not on par, with Shedletsky to it.

Something about the man just… pisses it off. 

But no matter, it smiled, head tilting to one side as it approached The Survivor. He’s all alone, his friends are dead, and he's low on Stamina. Poor him.

He makes a break for it.

And 1x4 gives chase.

Its smile stretched wider. 

Now this, this is what it seeked!

The rush it gets as it chased its prey, helpless and alone, powerless compared to it.

It doesn’t take long for his Stamina to deplete, ending the chase far too quickly. No matter, he still had tricks.

Builderman tried to double back, trying to trick it into rushing forward, only for 1x4 to land two Slashes and a kick in, dealing 45 damage and counting. 

He hissed but quickly got up, he couldn’t afford sitting still, no matter how bleak everything seems. He, sadly, doesn’t make it far before it catches him. 

"Th4t h4rd h4t w0n't s4v3 y0u fr0m m3!(That hard hat won't save you from me.)” it Slashed him quickly, chuckling quietly as the man’s body dropped to the floor, headless. 

It tossed the head, finding no worth keeping it since it’ll get another in its next round… Although… Glancing down at its blooded fingers, it takes a lick. 

“3hh t00 s41ty.(Ehh too salty.)” Not this time it seems. Oh well.

The LMS song plays in the background. 

…One left.

It already knows where they were, it just needs to know if they're still there.

A quick dash was all it needed to find the room again, its body high on adrenaline as its smile seemed unnaturally wide.

Yet… it wasn’t what it expected, and everything they expected at the same time.

It seems this was similar to  their first encounter. 

There kneeled 007n7, one arm on the closet frame, breathing labored, arms shaking, and, if they listened close enough, vague words could be heard but not made out. 

Their eye narrowed, a little annoyed at his sickly form, their body “relaxing” from the high.They wished he’d just get well again, then it wouldn’t need to be so gentle with him. 

Seven hasn't noticed them yet, that won’t do. 

It can’t be anything to startle him too hard, that’ll injure him more and be, quite frankly, inconvenient, yet also something that’ll catch his attention. 

They swished and stuck their blade into the floor beside them, crossing their arms as a scowl formed on their face.

It did the trick.

007n7’s head shot up, a look of resignation could be seen overtaking him for a split second before he schooled his expression and gave a half-hearted wave followed by a weak “Hey…”, smiling crookedly.

It’s eye narrowed. Silence dragged on between them. Not enough to finish the round, even though there was still like three minutes left, but just enough to be noticeable and uncomfortable to either of them. 1x4’s eye stared at him in something like disappointment.

They sighed. Admins above this man looked pathetic.

“Fuck1ng p4th3t1c.(Fucking pathetic.)” They voiced their thought before crossing the small room and picking him up bridal style, noting how Seven’s face heated up upon pick up. 

Immediately after, they found 007n7’s arms wrapped tightly around their neck. 

They both paused.

‘Wh4t th3 fuck?!(What the fuck?!)’ 1x4’s thoughts halted, their face heated up a little. 

Why? 

What is this feeling?

Why are they feeling it!?

And why… don’t they mind?

They think they should but… they aren’t.

After a moment, they walk to the bed.

They lay Seven down with a gentleness even they’re surprised with as they tucked the man in, avoiding eye contact as they took a seat beside the bedfloor, suddenly finding the floor really interesting, mind racing while also feeling very empty.

One thing was for sure, 1x4 suspected that 007n7 would try to sit up so they were ready when he did. It wasn’t hard to read the man’s movements, it’s almost laughably easy. Child’s play.

“St0p. Y0u'r3 st111 w34k, y0u'r3 st4y1ng h3r3 unt11 th3 r0und 3nds.(Stop. You’re still weak, you’re staying here until the round ends.)” It felt themself growl the words out as they prevented him from rising further, pushing him a little back onto the bed. He paused, something crossed his face, something they couldn’t make out, before he nodded and laid back onto the bed. 

Not trusting him to stay down, 1x4 watched him a little more before returning to their original position, keeping their arm on the man.

They sighed under their breath. 

This man will be the death of them.