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The moonlight shone gently through the windows, the floor heavy with a strangely solemn silence, only broken by the occasional train passing through the tracks outside.
Dyle was exhausted, having had to take a longer alternate track to his supplier today, eyes heavy from staying awake late into the night for the delivery.
Ever since everything happened with toons starting to twist from the ichor, he’d noticed the change in supplies. Toon’s favorite foods no longer ordered, the needed supply getting smaller with each needed restock, once always taken piles of candy left out for Yatta now left untouched.
Dyle’s mind wandered with his thoughts and unsaid worries as he carried the crates over to the elevator, Dandicus there to greet him with his signature cheerful smile as always.
“Many thanks as always, Dyle!” Dandy beamed, taking the crates from Dyle, carefully stacking them in the elevator. “We should be good for another while again. We really don’t know what we’d do without you!”
Dyle gave a half hearted smile in return. “Of course, whatever helps the others to keep surviving.”
Dyle could see the faint change of Dandy’s expression, his smile faltering some. Maybe he could sense something was off with Dyle today.
“...Is everything ok, Dyle?” Dandy asked, a faint attempt to mask a larger sense of worry. “Something seems…off about you.”
“...I’m fine, Dandicus.” Dyle sternly responded. “I assure you. Please, you should take these back up now. I’ll come up later, I just…need a moment of fresh air, that’s all.”
Dandy nodded. He was still unsure, but felt it might be better to not push the conversation further. Maybe Dyle really was just stressed…hopefully. “A-All right then, Dyle. I’ll see you later, then. Make sure you get plenty of rest when you get back! Good night!”
“...Good night.”
Dyle turned his back to the elevator as it closed, sighing. He was frankly far from all right, stressed out of his mind and feeling sick. Maybe the Ichor leak from a few trips back was finally getting to him. He never remembered Ichor sickness being this bad, then again, back then the ichor leaks weren’t as major either, if they ever happened. Ever since Gardenview fell into disrepair, the old pipes would wear and snap, leaving puddles scattered around the deeper floors. He remembered needing to stay down here for hours, meticulously cleaning up every last drop of spilt ichor and having to replace the pipes himself. Maybe all that ichor he’d had to clean up was finally starting to affect him.
He reached to grip at his chest, breathing felt uncomfortable, like no matter how deep a breath he’d take he could never take in enough air. In all honesty, he’d barely been able to last the trip today, legs weak, hands shaking, the ever present feeling of nausea…
He managed to make it a fair bit away from the elevator before needing to rest against a wall. He had been trying so hard to hide it all. How tired. How stressed. How weak. His mind went to the thought of all the toons they’d lost, he couldn’t help but wonder…was this what they all felt? This overwhelming weakness and sickness as they changed into monsters. He looked up at the window, eyes fixated on the moonlight.
Was he next? Were these his last aware moments? With each passing second, sicker, weaker, more tired…
…Had Glisten felt like this when he’d twisted?
He barely wanted to think of it. The two already had a quite…complicated relationship. The cold glare from Glisten each time he passed by on the surface…honestly he couldn’t blame him. Especially after everything that happened.
He never meant to snap at Glisten so…coldly. He tried, really he had, to keep it all buried. That feeling of deep jealousy towards a toon he considered his own son. He just never understood what was so different between him and Glisten that Glisten had been chosen for the show over him.
After that argument, Glisten left, and they never talked again.
Dyle sighed, shaking his head lightly. “...I never should have said all that to you.” He tried to push himself forward, only managing a few, shaky steps forward before his legs gave out, falling to the floor with a rough thud. He wanted to keep fighting, to drag himself up, but it felt like his own body was working against him, unable to muster up the strength.
“...I just…hope you didn’t twist thinking I hated you…” He weakly mumbled. “...I wish we could have…had just one more talk. I…I really failed you…didn’t I…” His voice trembled.
It really must be his last moments, he thought. The world blurring around him, memories of the past rushing through his mind, he could feel all of it. The joy, the anger, the pain, all the regret. The thing he should have said, what he should have done, if he had just done one thing differently, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up like this. Maybe at least he could’ve twisted knowing at least he did well in life, but here he was, succumbing and teeming with regrets.
“...I was supposed to care for you…” He weakly rasped, barely even comprehending the tears in his eyes at this point. “And yet I went and said all that to you…I wish I could have seen you one more time before you went…I wish I could have apologized…oh, son…I’m sorry I hurt you like that…”
He weakly curled into himself, a soft sob escaping him. He could feel his body giving out, his vision slowly fading.
“I wish…I had done better for you…for everyone…”