Chapter Text
It feels like eternity, watching Ink die. Dream is helpless to save them.
His healing magic has no effect. He forces it into them anyway, his own vision going dark at the edges with the effort.
"No," Dream pleads through tears, "no, please, you're-- you're going to be okay--"
Ink tries to reply, but paint bubbles up from their mouth instead of words, with a sickening gurgling noise that will haunt Dream's nightmares.
He should have been there. If he had been here, just seconds earlier, he could have taken that hit from Error in their place. Ink would still be standing, with bright eyelights and an affectionate smile. They would be arguing that Dream needed to heal himself before starting to clean up Error's damage.
Their shirt is snug around a solid ribcage, damp with black blood. Dream's hands press firmly against it, glowing brightly, trying desperately to hold them together.
Then their ribs crumple under his hands, so sudden that it feels as if Dream crushed them. Within seconds, their shirt is stained black, flat against the ground, empty.
Dream does not scream in horror out loud, only so that it won't upset Ink even more. He can't hold back a sharp whimper, or tears that drip into the growing pool of black blood.
"I'm sorry--" Dream chokes on the words, apologies that could never feel like enough. "Ink, I'm so sorry, please be okay, I'm sorry--"
There's nothing either of them can do about it, and Dream knows it. He's being selfish, to cry about losing them. This is not about Dream. He can't help pleading anyway.
He can't lose Ink. He can't. Anything but this, please, he can't take it--
Ink's small, ice-cold hand reaches up to hold Dream's face. It fits into place, gentle on his cheekbone, the same as it always has. Dream leans into it. He misses this already. It's already too cold, too wet, too shaky-- already different and painful.
Their hand falls away, and they suddenly don't have one anymore. The paint splatters against the snow, sticks to Dream's cheekbone in the shape of their handprint-- for just a moment, the marking almost matches Ink's. His tears are already washing it away.
Ink stares up at him. Their expression is unreadable, but distinctly not angry or afraid. Searching, maybe.
Dream sobs.
Slowly, slowly, Ink's skull melts and collapses into itself. Black ink drips into the snow, corroding away at what's left like acid.
Their eyelights shrink, then wobble like dying flames, staring up at Dream before going out entirely. Seconds later, they don't have eye sockets at all, and then Dream is sobbing over a black puddle that is quickly disappearing, only a stain in the snow.
-
In the Doodle Sphere, paint flows like water.
Deep under the surface, the colors swirl together, hardening into solid bone.
The feeling is indescribable. To melt and reform while teleporting feels like nothing. Being rebuilt after being destroyed feels like a lot.
They don't normally feel pain, so they have nothing to compare it to, but this must be it. If there had been air to breathe in, they would have screamed, or groaned, or wept. Their bones are not quite formed, still partially liquid and swirling around them, but everything that is them and everything that will become them aches.
One moment, there is nothing alive in the Doodle Sphere. The next moment, a small skeletal body floats to the surface of a rainbow ocean.
Ink blinks, hazy eyelights staring into the golden sky. For a few minutes, they stay there, floating on their back and trying to piece together memories of what just happened. Slowly, the ache in their bones fades, back to familiar numbness.
...That sucked, they think. But the worst of it has already passed, so they don't dwell on it too long.
They try, but they can't remember much of the last few minutes before that happened. Something about Error, and their HP getting low, and... Dream? Dream was trying to heal them, even though Ink thought they both knew it would have no effect.
What happened...?
They'll just have to ask him when they come back. Their curiosity (and maybe, just a little bit of worry) outweighs their desire to keep floating lazily around, so they finally start to swim, and then crawl onto the shore. They need to get some clothes on, first.
-
Ink teleports into Dream's house and finds him curled up on the sofa, sobbing into Ink's old blackened scarf.
Suddenly they feel very awkward about being there. They tug uncomfortably at the new scarf they put on before coming here, twisting one end around their fingers.
"...Hey, Dream? What's wrong?" they ask, kneeling in front of the sofa to be at the same eye level.
Dream startles violently, making Ink flinch backwards a little bit, too. He looks at them, and Ink can see how his eyelights are dim, his face smudged with tears and black ink from their scarf. His eye sockets are disturbingly hollow and tired.
"Ink??" he whispers. His voice is rough from crying, and it makes Ink's own chest feel tight, a surge of deep blue that makes them want to hold Dream's hand.
"Y-- yeah??" Ink replies, their eyelights flashing different shapes in slightly panicked confusion.
Before Ink has the chance to react, Dream sits up-- off balance, like he's a little dizzy-- and pulls Ink into a crushing hug. He pulls them onto the sofa with him, placing them on his lap and pulling his legs up behind them to curl around them in a close hug. They don't resist, snuggling up to him easily.
Although, they're deeply worried about the way Dream starts crying into their new scarf, breathing through it as if holding them isn't enough, he needs to smell that they're actually here, as well. Even though they smell like the same paint that stained their old scarf when they melted, earlier. It can't possibly be comforting...?
They hug Dream back anyway, purring softly at his touch. They know it's not the time to think this, but a part of them is glad to be wanted so badly.
Dream pulls back just enough to look into Ink's eyelights. A few tears roll down Dream's cheekbones, and Ink reaches to wipe them away, but for some reason it only makes Dream cry harder, leaning into their hand. Despite the tears, Dream starts smiling.
"How are you here?" Dream says.
Ink is sure this isn't what Dream means, but they really don't remember much of what happened, so they're not sure what to say except, "I teleported...?"
Dream keeps looking at them, waiting for them to say more.
"...What happened?" Ink finally asks.
Dream hesitates, and his smile falls.
"You... You died."
Is that what that was?
"Oh," Ink says.
Dream stares at them in disbelief.
"But-- but I'm fine? I came back, it's not a big deal, why are you...?" They trip over their words and trail off. They're missing something, they know it, but...
"It sucked," they admit, "but it wasn't that bad? Didn't even-- maybe it hurt a little, but I'm fine?"
"How many times have you died," Dream says. They can't tell what emotion the look on his face conveys.
"Uh... This is the third time, I think? It's fine, I knew what to expect."
Dream takes a deep breath. He holds the side of Ink's face with one hand, affectionately brushing his thumb over their cheekbone.
He stares at them with an expression that's the closest to disappointment Ink has ever seen Dream direct at them. They wilt a little bit under that look.
"I didn't," Dream stresses. "You never told me."
"...Oh," Ink says. They really thought Dream already knew. It was all over the multinet, the first time the multiverse saw Ink lose all their HP and return the next day. It was seriously dramatic, even though Ink was fine. (Not that they minded-- There was even some fanfiction. They thoroughly enjoyed reading it.)
...It was all over the multinet, which Dream never looks at. Oh.
A few moments pass. It sinks in.
Dream thought Ink was dead. Permanently.
Ink glances away from Dream's face, leaning a little harder into his hand. "I'm sorry," they say genuinely.
Dream sighs deeply. He's mostly stopped crying, but a few tears still run down his face.
"It's okay," he says. "I mean, it's not okay. I'm-- I'm not mad at you. But-- how could you--" his face scrunches up, repressing a sob, and Ink can't bear to look.
Ink shivers, feeling sick with guilt. They thought he knew. They didn't understand why he would worry about them so much. It had to be something else that Dream was upset about, because it was not a big deal that they... died.
Dream takes a deep breath, then another.
"Just... come here. Please," Dream says softly.
Dream hugs Ink a little tighter, and Ink realizes what he wants.
They snuggle closer into his embrace, wrap their arms around him and nuzzle their skull under Dream's chin. Dream holds them tightly, resting his skull on theirs. Ink purrs deeply, a loud rumble that tells Dream they're not going anywhere.
Dream's soul beats quickly, so intensely that Ink can feel it, just a few inches away from their skull. He breathes deeply, lifting Ink slightly with each inhale and breathing out warm air over the top of their skull. Trying to calm himself down.
"Sorry," Ink whispers. It doesn't feel like enough.
Dream's first reply is to squeeze them tighter. Then he places a little kiss on their forehead. Ink's face starts to glow with rainbow blush, though Dream can't see it.
"I'm just so glad you're back," Dream says softly.