Work Text:
Okay.
They inhale.
They can do this.
Their SOUL has a few peculiar habits. One they've noticed is.... really odd, and they don't like thinking about it too long.
They aim to reproduce that themself.
They exhale.
They map out what they must do. First, they should... probably go help Berdly, while they still have some confidence in their physical ability. Then they come back in and make a Fountain....
No, they have to visit Noelle. Tell her something, anything. Convince her it wasn't real. Give her her watch back.
Okay.
They can do it.
They plunge their hand into their chest, grab the SOUL, ignore the pain oh angel the pain, and shove it between the couch cushions. They gather their bearings.
Up. Up and out.
They open the door and breathe in again, before walking out the door. And then quickly back in.
Suddenly, they are halfway in the driveway.
The disconcerting feeling it gives them is as nauseating as ever, and without the SOUL keeping them composed, they have to fight back vomit. Whatever. They just have to keep going.
They know the spots. They've been paying attention.
They walk forward as confidently as possible, then quickly back away at a seemingly arbitrary point. They are at the intersection. They clutch their head at the stab of pain.
Again.
They are in front of QC's. This time, they can't stave off the nausea, and they hastily shamble to the forest to expel the vomit in their mouth and cough. God. That taste'll haunt their mouth for a while.
Okay. One more. They approach the point and warp.
Their body heaves involuntarily. Angel, it's nauseating. They're just... The universe feels like it can't decide on where they are. They are in one place, and then they are not. It feels like a bluescreen.
They don't have the time for this, though. As fast as they can, they stumble into the librarby. Berdly was never there to lock it. They don't have the constitution to try doing the warp thing here, so they walk normally. Or, as normally as is possible when you're soulless, starving, and dead tired.
Berdly is still laying there, frozen. He hasn't moved. They don't want to think about it.
Their arms are shaking, but they hoist him onto their back anyway. He is cold. They don't want to think about it.
They "speed" out of the librarby, kicking the door shut behind them, and limp over to the hospital. Warping wouldn't help them here.
They pull the handle. The nurse—they never did learn her name—looks up. "Oh, dear, Kris, is he alright? What happened?"
They shake their head, dimly registering tears dripping down their face through the numbness. Maybe from effort. Or from everything else.
They push through the doors and clumsily dump him onto the bed, wincing at the roughness. As much as they may vaguely dislike him, he didn't deserve that. Or anything else. Angel, he didn't deserve it...
They rush past the nurse, ignoring the questions, and barrel out of the hospital, barely sparing a longing glance at the piano. They have things to do.
They brace themself as they approach the point again. They close their eyes this time, and it's... marginally better.
Again. They cover their mouth.
Okay, that's, that's it, that's all, they can't do it more. They might just collapse.
Breathe in. Noelle.
They thank all the deities out there that Carol's gate is entirely for show, as they just walk around it. They throw out the plans they've been formulating to get Noelle's attention when they see her on the porch, arms curled around herself.
They run.