Archive of Our Own

The thick, suffocating smell of smoke hits her in an instant. She is still miles away from the mansion itself, and yet— the nauseating, strong scent of smoke, it is everywhere, and so unbearable. The closer she gets to the wall of blazing flames that engulf the mansion whole, the more her eyes seem to prick with tears.

Smoke is slowly billowing off from the fire, curving and dancing into the air with all its smoky grace. The world is buzzing all around her as she runs, runs, runs— feet barely holding themselves up as she dashes like a mad woman towards the deteriorating mansion.

Her tears are not triggered by the smoke. Rather, a deep feeling in her heart that nobody is making it out of this alive. Kantje's words were enough to send her in a frenzy, the realization that nobody was safe hitting her all at once.

All these friends, the unexplainable feeling of fondness in her heart that has rooted itself like a beautiful pink tree in full bloom— it is facing being uprooted all from her own foolish mistakes.

Ivory should've said something before dashing out. She should've warned them of all the secrecy that had been brewing behind the Hemlocke's backs— should've dragged Clown out the door with her, should've done something more.

Something that could've prevented the fierce roar of flames burning brightly right in front of her eyes.

Ivory is scared. Nothing is ever permanent, but for the first time in months— she had been so dumb as to let herself believe that things had finally settled back into normalcy.

How foolish of her, indeed. Her friends could be dying right now, and it would all be her fault for chasing Kantje instead of warning them that worse could be coming.

When her legs finally stutter to a stop outside the mansion gates, the momentary relief that courses through her veins is enough to temporarily hold back the overwhelming fear that has been keeping a tight grip on her this whole time.

Outside, in front of the stairs leading to the estate doors— there is a small handful of familiar faces. Everything is in disarray, quite obviously— but not everyone is dead. They are alive, and they are real, and their hearts are beating—

Ivory does a head count under her breath. She spots many ugly welts and discoloured burns as she counts, but she forces herself to remain on task as the counting  in her head continues. People are still alive, and that's what's more important.

Loppezz, Div, Maddie, Ross, Bit, Izzy, Muu, Pyro, Zombie.

She freezes. Slower, she recounts again.

Loppezz, Div, Maddie, Ross, Bit, Izzy, Muu, Pyro, Zombie.

A wave of panic and dread sets in quickly. That is not all of the staff at all. Ivory can luckily add Clown to the count, as she sees him in the distance, chest heaving as Zombie approaches to place a firm hand on his shoulder.

Ivory, honestly— can't care about Clown right now. She books it for the doors of the mansion with only one person in mind, and this is none other than her best friend, Serapter.

"Ivory—" There's a distant shout, feminine and urgent. She doesn't turn back around. There is no time to rethink things. If Serapter was out of the building, he would be here. He is not, so she has her answer. Ivory dives into the fire without another thought, feeling the immediate lick of hot flames against her pale skin.

Inside the mansion, the fire is burning strong. It's hard to see through the smoke, but with all her training and memorization, she is able to maneuver her way through all the foggy smoke.

A blur of colours bump past her shoulder just as she's approaching the hallway towards Clown's office. Yellow, orange, and purple. Her eyes widen.

Staggering down the flaming stairs, Zam and Vi have their arms hooked steadily around Ash's shoulders as they haul him to the doors. They're all badly burnt, but Zam's face is etched with subtle determination as they continue limping in unison.

As they pass, they don't spare a glance towards Ivory. Maybe it's for the better that they don't. She is being reckless, but she would rather be reckless than lose the person she cares the most about.

Sweat beads at her forehead as she continues running, turning the corner to make her way down the corridor. If she remembers the basics of their schedule, and if she knows Serapter well enough— this is where he should be.

The fire hurts. Like her, it is reckless. It can keep its heat low when kept in regulation, but as soon as it is treated without care— it explodes into something messier, less composed.

Ivory catches something moving near the door to Clown's office.

She keeps sprinting until she's at the entrance, and her heart almost stutters to a stop when she sees Serapter, busy tugging himself out from an under a collapsed plank of wood.

She tries to shout his name, but the bitter scent of smoke floods into her lungs instead. Ivory can barely even breathe anymore, with the air being far too thick.

Serapter has just yanked the chunk of wood away when something above him shifts. He doesn't notice it, but Ivory does. The wooden supports of the room are on the verge of collapsing, and conveniently— Serapter just so happens to be stationed directly above them.

Adrenaline kicks in as she dashes forward, bracing herself as the wooden support above dangles back and forth, holding on by a thread. Serapter is closer, closer, just in reach— until her fingers brush the scorched fabric of his uniform and she is tackling him to the floor.

Only a moment later, the unsteady wooden support above the doorway comes crashing down, sending more debris and ash flying into the air.

The tackle sends them both tumbling, hitting what remains of Clown's desk as her dazed, frantic eyes meet Serapter's startled smile. He makes the same mistake as her, and parts his lips to speak. His words, though they do escape— are inaudible through the roar of the blazing fire.

Clearly, she looks confused and distressed all at once, because Serapter backtracks and after a brief moment— cranes his head towards the window, motioning towards it.

The window. Of course, that would be much smarter than running back to the doors with an injured Serapter in her arms. She's unsure if she can even carry him that far, regardless.

Ivory stumbles to her feet and with her heart still beating in her ears, she approaches the window and slams her elbow into the scalding glass until it finally shatters.

The pain is becoming numbing. Smoke is swirling in her lungs, and she hasn't been able to properly inhale since she first came inside. Still, she needs to persevere.

For Serapter. It's because of Serapter that she's even lasted this long. He is undoubtedly her best friend, and she will stop at no point to repay him for all that he's given her.

She returns back to Serapter's side and pulls him to his feet with her utmost support. He is unsteady, legs trembling whether that be from adrenaline, or from the wood that had him pinned earlier.

There isn't any time to question whether or not he can even walk straight. The flames are at their worst, licking against her skin and searing away the fabric of her clothes. Without hesitation, she yanks Serapter towards the window and uses all her strength to lift him up and out.

It's painstaking, and her whole body, by now— is absolutely burning from all the pain that she is enduring. If it weren't for the adrenaline, she'd surely have collapsed from it all by now.

Serapter, as smart as he can be— understands the memo, and is able to use his own strength to hoist the rest of his body out the shattered window. Glass crunches under her feet as she pushes him one last time, getting his heels over the edge until he goes toppling onto the grass outside.

Through that cloud of terror, there is hope. He's coughing violently, gasping for fresh air as he finally escapes the fire— but Serapter could he alive. He could be okay.

His head turns back towards her, and he quickly shuffles out of the way, motioning for her to follow through. Ivory has been so completely caught up in getting Serapter out, she hadn't even considered her own escape.

With a nod, she grips onto the charred frame of the window, hooking her legs onto the outer frame before hoisting the rest of her body through. She tumbles onto the grass beside Serapter, and uncontrollable relief floods into her to see that he is okay.

Ivory grabs him by his shoulders, uncaring of all the pain they both must have as she presses him against the crook of her neck. Tears are spilling before she can stop herself, full of regret, grief, and relief all at once as she holds him tightly in her arms.

Some part of her still thinks that at any second, he might just stop breathing with him in her arms. She's terrified, she realizes. 

"Serapter," Her voice is trembling, "P-please don't go, please—" Hot tears stream down her cheeks, stricken with fear. She never wants to let go. She never wants to see him so close to death again.

Voices overlap in the distance, slowly growing closer the longer she hugs him. The world around her feels like it doesn't even exist, and that all there is in this world is just Serapter and her.

Ivory repeats it again and again, scared that if she stops saying it— her worst fear will come true, and he will wither away in her arms. "Please don't go, please Serapter— please don't go." She sobs.

Comforting warmth blooms against her fingertips, and there's a reassuring squeeze. Through glassy eyes, she looks down to find Serapter's hand in hers, fingers intertwined tightly.

It's a silent message that he will stay. That she is here, and he is here, and that this is the worst that things will get. He's always done this whenever she's gotten panicked, and he doesn't seem to have any intentions of stopping.

Eventually, much to her dismay— the moment is ruined, and she is pulled away from Serapter by a lady in blue that comes to assess his burns. She says that someone else will come to check on Ivory, something about medical care— she tunes it all out.

Her mind is still in too much disarray. The mansion is gone, Serapter might be safe, but he might not be okay, there is still shouting, grieving sobs— it is all such a mess, and she feels so helpless. What can she do?

As her tears finally begin to slow, something moves in the corner of her vision. For a moment, she thinks that she is seeing things wrong, but upon replaying what she saw—

Ivory freezes. Her head snaps up, and her eyes settle on grey fur and terrified eyes stood by the gates. 

Kantje. Something in her pounding heart twists in bitter anger as she rises to her feet, gaze set on the target that caused all of this mess to begin with.

He is a deer in headlights. She is a hungry wolf who is ready to chase him down and tear him apart, limb by limb.

Kantje knows, he knows— as soon as he sees Ivory's wide, dilated eyes, he knows it is time for him to run. He already has a significant lead, but clearly— he's underestimating how quickly she can run when it is required.

She ran all the way through town and back. She has fled from a psycho detective and murderous parents. Running is what she may be best at, because it's all she seems to do. 

Ivory begins to pursue him, legs carrying themselves as she makes a mad dash towards Kantje. Like a feral, rabid animal, she is ready to pounce.

For Serapter. For Loppezz. For Pyro. For all the people who have come for her, she will avenge their pain. If this is all the fault of Kantje, then he will face retribution, and—

"Ivory—!"

Her legs stop. She almost trips over herself as she processes the voice that calls her name, hoarse and alarmed, yet still managing to be so full of warmth when it is her name that is called.

She turns back, and finds Serapter tearing his arm away from a nurse to call after her. Div is noticeably by his side, his own expression full of fright.

It dawns upon her that they are not scared of her, but they are instead scared of losing her.

To Kantje, to the forest, or the town— she isn't very sure. But she knows Serapter. She can recognize that expression on his face, begging for her to stay by his side.

This time, Div calls out to her. "Ivory, stay here! The paramedics need to check you, a-and it's dangerous to leave right now! Come back!"

Briefly, her head swivels back towards the pathway that Kantje went down. She's sure that she could still catch up. Ivory could go after him, and make him feel all the pain that he's caused everyone else in the manor.

Serapter tries to shout her name again. He breaks into a coughing fit instead, and the bitterness in Ivory's heart seems to shift into something a little less harsh.

Finally, she decides to turn back around.

She is not the violent, scorn person she used to be anymore. Ivory does not want to go back to that. It is not the kind of person she wants to be.

The adrenaline slowly begins to wear off as she trudges back to Serapter and Div, eyes still red from crying and the rancid smell of smoke still lingering in her lungs.

Neither of the two speak about what they saw. Surely, they both had their own suspicions.

Instead, both Serapter and Div offer her relieved half-smiles as she reunites with them.

"Are you hurt at all?" The nurse treating Serapter asks her gently, her expression sympathetic.

Ivory doesn't quite know how to respond to that. Inside her heart, there is still a deep, gutting feeling that she could have prevented this, or at least gone after the perpetrator. It hurts, because at the same time— being someone bitter and violent is not who she wants to be.

She decides that for now, she is okay. Serapter can still manage a feeble smile despite all his burns, and almost everyone in the mansion seems alive enough.

"I'm fine," Ivory manages softly, "Is he okay?" She asks instead, pointing towards Serapter.

The nurse nods, breaking into a reassuring smile. "Don't see anything too bad. There may be a serious injury in his leg, but with time, it should heal fine. The burns might stay for a while, however I think that is a much smaller issue compared to some of the more unenjoyable injuries he could've had."

That's good. That's really good, actually. Especially when the nurse smiles a little wider and adds, "You did a very brave thing. I saw you run right past me and into the mansion. I'm not sure he could've made it out himself if not for you."

Ivory blinks, flushing awkwardly as she nods shallowly. She doesn't take compliments very well, but she tries. "Thank you, miss. I, uhm.. I was very worried when I didn't see h-him with the others."

Serapter clears his throat, interrupting her. "Look, I appreciate you saving me and all, but you kind of did break a window with your elbow to get me out, so I think that you should get that checked out, Ivory." He points out, giggling subtly.

Div's jaw falls open beside him, "You broke it with your elbow? Only your elbow?"

"I- I didn't know any other way I could've broken it, sorry." She mumbles earnestly. She really hopes that Zombie won't fine her for breaking his property, but that is truthfully the least of her concerns.

The nurse chuckles, "Quite the feat, do you mind if I do take a quick look over you then? We shouldn't risk any infections." She says, reaching for Ivory's arm.

Ivory obliges, and watches as the nurse gently rolls up her already ripped sleeve, studying the faint soot clinging to her skin and the minor burns that leave redness, until her gaze finally stops on her elbow.

"Well," She starts, glancing back up at Ivory. "I'm honestly impressed you could break a window. You do have some pretty deep scratches from the glass, but I can just bandage it up right now, if that's alright."

She nods again, and so the nurse takes out a roll of bandages and wraps it tightly around her elbow. It's a little bit of an awkward fit, since her elbow is constantly moving— but obviously, it is agreeably better than an infection.

"Thank you, miss." She murmurs as her careful hands retract.

"Ah, no problem. We're going to be sending vehicles for all of you workers to go back to the hospital soon, alright? We can't leave any of you here, especially while the fire is still active— so you'll all be coming with us." The nurse explains sweetly.

Ivory glances towards her friends, who nod in understanding. "Okay," she says in agreement, "How long until they arrive, miss?"

She laughs quietly, "You can drop the formalities. Just call me Molly, it's alright. I'm uncertain of when they will arrive, but I'm sure it'll be soon. Thankfully, the head of the house reported his fears early."

The nurse, Molly— stalks back to larger group of paramedics and workers after that, leaving Serapter and Div sitting on the ledge of one of the service vehicles as Ivory remains standing.

"Oh," Ivory turns towards Div, who must be sharing similar thoughts as her. "Clown?"

"Yeah, he told us all to evacuate out of nowhere— said something about the boiler. I was in the kitchen when the fire started, so I had it a little bad because the commotion made of hard to escape, but.." He shrugs, his hands moving down to pick at the edges of the bandages around his hands. "It's not too bad."

"I see. So everyone made it out okay?" Ivory asks.

"I think so. Some people definitely made it out later since they were upstairs, but thankfully, I haven't heard of any fatalities.." Div confirms solemnly.

Serapter perks up, "Wasn't Ash on the roof? How did he get down?"

A moment of panic seems to pass through all three of them as nobody responds, but it strikes Ivory that she very well knows the answer to this question.

"I passed him when I was coming to get you. Zam and Vi went back to get him, I believe."

Serapter's expression looks fond as a relieved laugh escapes, "Well, that's good. I know Ash meant a lot to Clown especially, but to the whole manor..." His voice trails off slowly, slightly somber.

She understands. "Yes. We're are all quite close with each other. I didn't think anyone would... kill someone else, or even think of harming anyone else." Ivory whispers, her words breaking as she speaks.

Div and Serapter share quiet gazes, full of their own grievances. Eventually, Serapter responds. "I didn't think so either, especially you. Y-you, uhm... when you ran past me, you seemed so scared. Clown came chasing after you, and once I told him, I guess he understood that he had to do something."

"I'd like to say that all of us, all of you guys—" Div lets out a breathy laugh, both exhausted and earnest. "Are the closest thing I have to family, or at least— what I want to call family."

Serapter's voice softens, "Awh, you really think so..?"

"Uh.." He swallows, "Y-yeah. I think Ivory kind of knows, but... you guys do mean a lot to me. Here, I feel like I'm happier than I was at home, at least. Everyone treats me well."

Ivory wants to cry all over again, hearing Div's words. All of these people, she's gotten to know them so well. Weeks and months of settling into a place she could really call home, of finding familiar places and falling into routine— all of this, and it was all almost lost from someone's wrongdoings.

Again and again, the question continues to float in her mind. Why did Kantje have to hurt all of these people? Why did Mysticat have to die? Why is the world so cruel, even to people like Pyro?

These workers, these growing children— they are all innocent. Zam does not deserve this. Vi does not deserve this. People like Maddie and Ross— always bright, always kind, always looking out for others, they are like family.

Someone familiar resurfaces in her mind. The fire, it brings her back to an earlier conversation she shared with someone. Someone, who like everyone else— is innocent.

"I-is Mr. Pyro alright?" Ivory blurts out.

Serapter turns back towards Ivory, shutting up from his conversation with Div. "Pyro? I think so. He's probably at the hospital by now, though. The first vehicles that came by probably took the Hemlocke's by priority."

"I understand." She murmurs, sounding a little more dejected than she probably should at thy revelation. "I hope we are leaving soon then. I'd like to see if everyone else is alright."

Her best friend's gaze is careful and gentle, all at once as he nods in agreement. "It shouldn't take too long! I wouldn't worry about it."

Ivory stares at Serapter, covered in ash with the bitter scent of smoke still clinging to him tightly.

Even with his mask still on, she can hear all the hope that lingers in his voice and she can see how his lips are curled into a smile, despite everything.

"Hey, hey— Ivory—"

Choked, quiet sobs rip from her throat. She can't hold back that burning, tightening feeling in her throat anymore. Sure, she's cried already, but finally being able to hear Serapter's reassuring, infectiously happy voice— it's so much different, and so much better.

To think that he was going to die. To think that all the memories of their tomfoolery together would've eventually become lost to time if he had succumb to that fire.

To think that every single one of their meals together, their time spent staring at the sky, twinkling with stars— their time spent sneaking off into rooms they weren't allowed in, to think that nobody would've come for him otherwise—

He saved her so many times. How was she not supposed to come for him?

"S-Serapter," Ivory can barely speak through the tears cascading down her face, "Thank you, for living."

Her knees hit dirt. Her balance gives out, and she finds herself collapsing as the exhaustion finally sets in. She is so, so tired— but at least her best friend is alright.

Really, that is all she needs. That is all she wanted, anyways.

Serapter rushes to meet her level, urging Div to help him down despite the injury in his leg. He complies, and a moment later— she feels that familiar comfort of Serapter's arms wrapping around her.

It is like before, but this time— she is not begging him to live. This time, things are quieter. There is no pounding in her heart and in her mind, telling her that this is the last time that she will see him breathing.

Instead, her mind is quiet. All she does is silently cry in his arms, letting tears drip down her cheeks, staining Serapter's already ruined clothes. They both know that he doesn't care at all.

Div returns back to the main group, giving them space for themselves. He understands; they are family, and Ivory is inseparable from Serapter.

It feels so, so good to have him back. Over and over, strings of flustered apologies for crying on him, and for not being there sooner tumble from her lips in scattered sentences, but he gently shushes her and simply presses her closer into his shoulder.

They stay like that for a while, longer than the first embrace— and it is just the way she wants it to be. Just her and Serapter, uncaring of the commotion around them. She continues crying until she's finally exhausted herself, and her tears run dry.

Serapter reaches out his thumb, smearing away the streaks of tears that still remain on her face. He giggles, muttering some shallow apology about accidentally leaving soot on her face as he does. She snickers back, and rasps that she doesn't care at all.

It's so him, so normal— it's all that she wants. In the moment, she can't even find herself being bothered about the mansion fire, about what comes next, or about Kantje (for the most part). Ivory just wants this numbing fuzziness to remain permanently, along with the confirmation that things are alright.

"Ivory," Serapter speaks up, voice low as he nudges her shoulder.

Ivory tilts her head up to meet his masked face. He's smiling, not brightly— but tenderly— full of warmth as he laughs, a beautiful sound that she never wants to let go of. "Yes?"

"Thank you, for giving me a chance to live."

The hospital smells a little unwelcoming. It has subtle hints of antiseptics, used to sterilize every possible surface— along with the irking scent of rubber, plastic, and faintly, the metallic smell of blood.

By the time that Serapter and her had finally been transported to the hospital, she predicted that it was some ungodly hour of the night, or at least some early hour of the morning.

Her theory proved to be correct, as when she asked the same nurse, Molly— for the time, she was told that the sun had just began to rise.

Ivory hums, now unsure of what to do with herself. She is sitting in the waiting area, a half-empty cup of coffee that had been given to her earlier sitting in her lap as she stares out a window.

Serapter, currently— is in a different room, getting a surgery for his leg after it was properly assessed.

Ivory had already been checked out when she first arrived, and other than her elbow— there hadn't been anything of concern. Now, all she can do now is awkwardly wait until she is permitted to visit him.

Practically all the staff had some sort of injuries, as they had been inside the mansion when the fire broke out. Herself, on the other hand— was unscathed.

She isn't sure how she should feel about that. Over the past few hours, she's still been conflicted about her survival. Maybe she should've gone after Kantje, and maybe she should've ignored Serapter.

There are many hypotheticals, and while she knows that it is unhealthy to entertain them, a part of her still wants to. That violent counterpart of herself, it is still there— quietly lurking in the corner of her mind.

Goodness. This sterile smell of the hospital is driving her insane. Perhaps it is better that she goes out for some fresh air while she waits, instead of driving herself crazy with all these possible scenarios.

When she pushes the door open, what she finds is something quite surprising.

Clown is sitting on the edge of the fountain outside the hospital, his left leg shaking in a nervous pattern.

He is faced towards the town, and doesn't notice her approaching until her footsteps are audible from behind. She purposely chooses to arrive from the opposing side that Clown is sitting on, since she is aware of how jumpy he might be.

She is correct again, because when she appears in his peripheral vision— he noticeably jolts, tilting his body away from Ivory for a brief moment before letting out a quiet, shaky exhale.

"Ivory," He greets after an awkward beat, trying to remain composed as he shifts over, inviting her to sit down beside him. "Hello."

"Hi, Mr. Pierce. I'm sorry for startling you. Are you recovering alright?" She asks politely, taking initiative to settle down beside him.

Clown turns his attention back towards the town, humming uncertainly. His mask is still on, and while she is familiar with how to read Serapter's expression through his mask— it is much harder to decipher Mr. Pierce's expression. "I'm, uh.. alright. Better than some of the other staff."

"Is that so?" She inquires gently, not nosily— that is practically her employer, after all.  "I'm unaware of how well most of the staff is currently doing, as the workers haven't told me a lot." Ivory admits.

"As I said, I was fortunate compared to the others. I did go down to investigate the boiler after you warned me, but I called first responders and warned the staff before I went downstairs."

Clown sighs, shaking his head. "It was foolish. The boiler exploded not long after it was damaged, as the safety was broken and it could not hold the pressure it was supposed to." He says, a slight tremble audible in his voice.

"Ah. I assume you were somewhat caught in that explosion then, Mr. Pierce?"

"I was," He confirms quietly. "I tried to shield myself because I realized what was happening, however I still did endure the explosion and a large portion of my skin did get badly burnt. Thankfully, the paramedics were able to treat them, and I only had do undergo a surgery. My injuries should recover reletively quick." 

Ivory fidgets with the coffee cup in her hands, rubbing her fingers over the smooth lid. Often times, she is unsure of what to say.

Comfort is not what she is particularly best at, but she supposes that an attempt is better than nothing.

"Mr. Pierce, you were very brave. Thank you for heeding my warning, even if it was imprudent of me to leave without further explanation. W-without you, I fear that.." She finds herself thinking back to Serapter again, before she can even stop herself. Seeing him choking on smoke, trapped in that mansion alone— "I fear that no one would've gotten out."

Clown stills at her words. His arms curl around his torso, as if he is embracing himself. "T-thank you, Ivory. If I have to be honest, I was afraid in that moment. Very afraid."

Ivory swallows the pressure that rises in her throat, forcing the question out. "Because of your soldier past, y-yes? It must be incredibly difficult to recount memories like that." She remarks softly.

"...Yes." He replies, words slow. "I wanted to brush your words off. I didn't always... have full trust in you, I must confess. But in that moment where I came running after you— Serapter grabbed me by my arm, with this desperate look in his eyes that told me you were serious."

She lifts the coffee to her lips, taking a steady swig from the cup. By putting the pieces together, from both her word and Serapter's, there is an important question on her mind.

"Do you know if the Hemlocke's will be... investigating the fire?" Ivory asks, and she almost regrets asking as soon as she sees Clown tense at the question.

"You do mean Kantje, yes?" He questions in return, his voice solidifying as his head turning to face Ivory. "I understand that your worry lies in what will happen to him."

She exhales anxiously, "Y-yes, sir."

Clown goes quiet, his leg continuing in a thumping rhythm before he replies, "Do you not wish for action to be taken against him? From what I understand, it was him who caused the fire, no?"

"I, uhm..." She tears her gaze away from Clown, feeling a harsh, familiar sting reoccurring in her eyes. "N-no, sir, not precisely. May I tell you my full perspective?"

Another shallow hum comes from Clown before he makes a sound of confirmation, following with a nod of his own. "Go on."

"I followed him after he left the property, you know, a-after I ran past you and Serapter, sir. Kantje ran through town, and he stopped at a stairway that let underground." She pauses, taking another sip of her coffee to try and calm her nerves.

Ivory sets the cup back down on her lap before continuing, "He was talking t-to a man, sir. Kantje was being paid to sabotage the Hemlocke's, but he still... he still was worried for their well-being. He asked if the fire department would be called, and it seemed that he only did it because he needed more money."

"Who was the man, Ivory? Did you catch a name at all?" Clown demands.

She shakes her head profusely, "N-no! After that, he mentioned the stove, a-and so I came running back to the manor out of fear."

He nods in understanding, running a hand through his hair. "I see— and did you see Kantje at all after that? I briefly overheard shouting from Serapter, but I'm unsure of what happened."

"I..." Ivory stares down at the cup in her lap. The coffee is still warm, weak strands of steam rising out of the open tab of the cup. It brings her back to the fire, when the smoke billowed out in streams, clouding the surrounding area in a thick, unbreathable scent.

She remembers that deep, unspoken desire in her heart to chase after Kantje. She could've caught up to him in no time, poured out all that hatred that resided in her heart, and make him feel every ounce of pain that he had inflicted.

"I did," Ivory confesses, her voice now quivering. "I-I did, sir. I wanted to chase him. I was so, so angry, I w-wanted to hurt him—" Her voice cuts off with an unexpected sob, surprising herself as she realizes that she has suddenly started crying once more.

Clown is quiet. She is unsure of whether that is a good or bad thing, so she asks.

"Does that make me a bad person, s-sir? I didn't know why he did it, besides for the money, and seeing Serapter almost die, seeing everyone so scared— I didn't know what to do." She whispers, desperately trying to wipe away the tears that form in the corners of her eyes.

Does it even mean something if she didn't go through with it? Can she really say that she is no longer violent, or that she no longer seeks vengeance just because she was held back? What if deep down, she is still the same, bitter person as before who cannot control her emotions?

A firm hand presses against her shoulder. It is Clown's gloved hand, soft and slightly warm— though it is different than Serapter's welcoming touch, she does not pull herself away.

"Well, did you go after him and go through with those intentions?" He asks.

She swallows back her sobs as she manages a timid, "N-no sir. I didn't, b-because Serapter called out for me, and I was just so scared that I was going to lose him."

Clown's voice is softer than she's ever heard it, almost reassuring as he replies— "That doesn't make you a bad person at all, then. I'd say that if you had gone after him, only with the intentions of hurting him rather than understanding his motives, that would have made you no better than him."

"Do you— do you think he... even meant to hurt everyone?" Ivory questions meekly.

"I can't say for certain," He answers honestly, "However, knowing Kantje and his financial situation— I don't believe he did it to be completely malicious. In the same way, even if you had gone after him— I don't believe your intentions were fully malicious either."

"No, no— I don't even know what I was thinking then. I don't think I would've actually wanted to harm him, but I- uhm, I'm actually very glad that Serapter stopped me, because I truthfully don't know what I would've done." Ivory admits, "I just think that I would've regret it."

"And for that, I do not believe you to be a bad person at all. Regardless of if you did or didn't go through with it, I think that your intentions are not whay define you as a whole." Clown concludes, patting her shoulder lightly.

"Thank you, sir.."  She hiccups, feeling the uncomfortable surge of heat from the tears that drip down her cheeks.

It's a nice confirmation, especially when it is coming from Clown, of all people. When the words come from someone so brutally honest, so critical— it's a reassuring thought to know that his words hold truth.

He nods, "In times like this, there really is no reason to distrust one another. Even though I might not show it, I truly do care for all of the staff and Hemlocke's alike."

"That is very sweet of you, Mr. Pierce." She giggles through a wet sniff. Ivory can honestly agree they he doesn't typically seem like the most caring individual, but just seeing the features that make him human— it makes that warm, happy feeling that comes from knowing everyone survived so much stronger.

Though she can't see it, she swears that she can hear Mr. Pierce smiling from under his mask. "Thank you as well. Come to think of it, have I ever explained to you why, and how I am the Hemlocke's housekeeper, Ivory?"

"I don't believe so, sir." Ivory replies tentatively, "M-may I know?"

Clown releases a drawn out sigh, "Yes. I started working here a long time ago, but before having a domestic job— as you know, I, uh— worked in the army. I served in war a-and once I was released, I didn't really have many options of where to go."

She drags the soles of her shoes against the pavement. To think that she is so privileged that she gets to be in a town, and not in the fields of war. "I understand. That must've been frightening." She murmured.

"Indeed, indeed... it was Redd who helped me onto my feet, actually. The owner of that bargaining shop? He introduced me to Ash, who at that time— was just another servant in the manor." He explains, his voice distantly reminiscent.

"Ah," Ivory hums, "I'm familiar with Mr. Redd. He is incredibly generous. How did you become the head housekeeper after?"

"Many years of serving the Hemlocks's and preventing disasters, I suppose. It was Ash who convinced me not to quit on multiple occasions, actually.." He chuckles softly, "It's thanks to him that I am in the position I am today."

"You do seem incredibly close to him." She agrees idly. Ivory has never really thought about it, but every time she sees Clown, Ash is not too far behind him. If their duties weren't always so divided, she's sure that she'd see them together more much often.

Clown nods at that. There is a fondness in his voice when he says Ash's name, and Ivory honestly finds it quite endearing. There is so much she doesn't know about the other staff, but just seeing those small, heartfelt relationships— it's nice. Everyone is so uniquely human.

"It reminds me a little bit of you and Serapter, actually." He says suddenly, "Stuck like glue. I'm glad you both work so well together."

"O-oh," She tries to laugh, but it sounds a little like a mix of a soggy sniffle and a laugh instead. "Thank you, sir. He's my best friend, h-he... means a lot to me."

He pauses, and what he adds next is slightly unexpected. "...Forgive me if i'm intruding, but— are there any romantic relations between you two?"

"Romantic relations? O-oh, uhm... I'm- sir, I like women." She stutters out, "I don't— Serapter is my friend."

"Oh," Clown genuinely laughs— outright laughs, like it's the funniest joke ever. Still, he doesn't seem even the slightest bit surprised at her response. "Apologies. Truly, I didn't mean to imply that there were. What I meant was that, uhm— sometimes, I see you and Serapter like me and Ash because..."

His voice trails off, and it takes Ivory a moment to realize that he is expecting her to fill in the blanks herself. She's completely dumbfounded for a moment until it finally clicks, and she blurts out—

"A-are you and Mr. Ash— in a romantic relationship?"

The other shifts around nervously, letting out a sheepish chuckle. "I suppose there's no point in trying to hide in from you if you're in the same boat. To put it simply, yes; we have been in a romantic relationship for quite some time now. He's, uhm— he's actually in a surgery right now."

"Ah. That's nice, I'm happy for you both. Is that why you are out here instead then?" Ivory probes.

"It is. It's a little embarrassing to admit, but I may have caused a bit of a scene when Ash was getting admitted," He says abashedly, "I insisted on staying by his side, but nurses told me to get some fresh air. I- I was worried about him, and—" Clown's expression turns a little grim.

"You thought you'd never see him again?" She finishes gently, raising an eyebrow. "I think many others share the same experience. I can't imagine how scary it must've been to see him like that, especially considering his circumstances..."

"Exactly." Clown's tone is lighter now, evident with quiet fondness as he talks about Ash. "In the moment— I was scared, but I didn't want to lose him. I didn't want him to find me dead, or it to be the other way around. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Mhm," Ivory finds that sentiment all too familiar. "That is how I felt about Serapter. I didn't— I didn't think anyone would even be alive by the time I got back. I ran all the way through town, a-and that was all I could think about."

"About everyone dying?"

"Yes."

Clown retracts his hand from her shoulder, folding it back neatly onto the other hand that rests on his lap. "I think that we were all scared. Everyone has their own little circle of people they care about, and it's shocking to think that something so small can change things so drastically."

Ivory is not the most emotional person, but the whole past few hours have had such a toll on her that every little detail about how much could've been permanently destroyed, and how many lives were nearly lost, she constantly finds herself on the verge of tears.

Family. That is what Div said. They all are a flawed little family. She's not sure what will come after all of this, but all can feel is an overwhelming sense of relief knowing that she is not a bad person for her intentions, and that everyone she cares about is in the process of recovering.

"I'm happy," She whispers, catching herself off-guard as the words leave her lips. She briefly hesitates before continuing, letting herself finish. "Love is such a beautiful thing."

"Love is a very beautiful thing." Clown agrees earnestly, "It's very fragile, but very beautiful, and I, for one— don't find it sinful at all. I'm grateful for you, Ivory. Without you, I probably would've lost the person I cared the most about."

She says nothing at that, but she can't hold back the upwards twitch of her lips.

After that, a serene moment of silence stretches between the two. It feels right. There's nothing but the faint bustling from the town, and the quiet piping from the passerby geese.

Ivory really likes it. It isn't awkward, and it isn't forced. Snow slowly drifts down from thinning leaves, and the air is chilly— but just chilly enough that it is does not become freezing.

They're both just there, enjoying each others quiet company as they both silently think of the person they are fondest of. The rising sun beams down gorgeous, golden rays onto their exhausted bodies, offering tranquil comfort.

At some point, there's a quiet, yet audible click beside her. Ivory almost doesn't turn, but in the corner of her eye— she catches a glimpse of splotchy red, scattered across skin as if it could rival the starry splotches of the milky way.

Clown's lowered gaze meets hers, offering a subtle smile. This time, she can tell when he is smiling and his expression is readable, because now— his usual mask sits in his lap, gently slipped off from his face.

The burns are truthfully quite bad in terms of damage, but Ivory, frankly— doesn't find them to be repulsing at all. He already has deep scars running across one of his eyes, and she doesn't find those unflattering either. They are simply injuries, and she finds nothing about it to be disgusted by.

"I've thought about it, Ivory. I will do my best to lessen the charges against Kantje, however knowing Mr. Zombie, I can't guarantee much." Clown states plainly.

"Really?" She asks, almost unbelieving of his words.

He shrugs, "Do you forgive him, Ivory? You were the one who heard everything."

"I-I don't think I truly forgive him," Ivory starts slowly, "But I understand why he did it. I heard he had a family member who was ill. What he did still wasn't right, however I wouldn't wish a severe punishment for him."

Clown's gaze pauses on her, as if he is searching her eyes for something deeper. Perhaps he is searching for something to contradict her words, or something that can justify charging Kantje instead.

No, that isn't who Clown is. Ivory should know that. Under that cold demeanour, he is as human as anyone else. Unlike Zombie, he has strong values that he stands for. It is no surprise when his tongue makes an understanding click, and he nods in agreement.

"I suppose I have my answer then," He says simply. "Thank you for enlightening me."

Ivory can't help but return his smile. It's much nicer, being able to see him smiling back. "I thank you as well. I-I've been quite caught up in my thoughts for the past few hours, and I think talking with you was what I needed."

"I couldn't agree more. Now, if everything has been discussed, why don't you go check on Serapter again? Perhaps he's out of surgery by now." Clown suggests, the plainness in his voice softening once more.

Everyone is so pure. So human. So, so human. Full of sorrow and grief, but they are living and carrying themselves without fear. Ivory finds it so admirable.

"I'd like to do that." She whispers, breaking into a quiet laugh. "Thank you again, Mr. Pierce."

"I'm glad I could help. Go, run along. And, if possible— I'd like you to pass by Ash's room. You can ask the nurses if you're unsure which ward he's in, but I'd just like to know if he's out of his own surgeries yet." Clown adds with a bashful look on his face.

"Of course, sir. I hope this doesn't sound too personal either, but I, ah— I find your relationship with Mr. Ash quite admirable. You two seem like very good matches for each other." Ivory comments offhandedly as she is getting up to go back inside.

Clown, who she was once slightly terrified of— is now smiling warmly at her, with bright eyes that reflect how absolutely overjoyed he is to hear this. "I'll be sure to tell him." He replies cordially.

Ivory tilts her head, giving a shallow nod before turning towards the directions of the doors.

Just as she's halfway down the path leading inside— she pauses, and feels like now is the best time to say her final thoughts, since they've already been so vulnerable with one another.

"O-oh! Mr. Pierce, one last thing! Contrary to any comments you may have gotten regarding your appearance, I think your eyes are a wonderful hue of red, and I find nothing wrong with the other marks at all!" She exclaims from afar, letting the words echo out into the open air before scampering back inside.

A distant, loud and audible laugh full of life rings out in response, and Ivory finds a fond expression now painted across her face as she closes the door behind her.

Back inside the hospital, things have noticeably calmed down. There is much less bustle, and the previous tension in her shoulders has almost completely vanished after her conversation with Clown. She feels refreshed now.

Ivory, firstly— throws the coffee away, then scans area again. her eyes widen when they fall on Molly once more, because obviously— she'd expected that the nurse would be much busier, considering that all the staff needed treatment. But seeing her here, she supposes that this might not be the case.

Ivorys goal is to find Serapter, Ash, debatably— Pyro, and probably Vi as well— so it's probably better that she asks, rather than going around and roaming the hallways without guidance.

She swerves past rushing doctors and other stressed nurses, muttering out quiet apologies until she finally makes her way towards Molly. Just audible enough to hear through all the noise, she perks up, "Hello, Molly?"

The nurse glances up from her clipboard, a cheery grin immediately spreading across her face when she meets Ivory's gaze. "Oh, it's you, dear! Do you need anything? If you'd like, I can get you another cup of coffee, or if you need to make a call—"

"A-ah, n-no, I'm alright, thank you. Could I just, uhm— ask some questions regarding some of the patients?" She asks politely. Ivory already feels a little guilty, going out of her way to demand things out of the poor nurse when she's probably already very busy.

Molly keeps her grin, nodding rapidly. "Of course, ask away! I'm assuming you want to check up on someone?"

"Yes, I hope that's not a problem. I'd just like to ask where I could find the rooms of some of my... friends.." She mumbles, flushing from embarrassment. It feels odd to call them her friends, despite knowing that most of the people in mind probably consider her as such.

She feels undeserving of it. It's funny, because if Serapter were here— he'd be incessantly telling her how much he cherished her.

"No problem at all," The nurse reassures kindly, "Can I have their names, honey?"

"I believe I'm unaware of their last names, but their names are Serapter, Ash, uhm— Pyro, and Vi."

"Right, right. Give me a moment, I'll get you their rooms, alright?"

Ivory nods, watching as Molly darts behind the front desk, coming out a few minutes later with a slip of paper in her hand.

"Here you go. Feel free to ask around if you still can't find their rooms, but here are their room numbers. It shouldn't be too hard to find on your own." She says, pressing the paper into her the palm of her hands gently.

"Thank you." Ivory murmurs gratefully, staring down at the numbers etched onto the slip. Molly gives her a quick thumbs up in return, then goes back to chattering with other staff members and jotting things down on her clipboard.

She begins making her way towards Serapter's room. The hallways are cold, and for the most part— quiet as well, with the exception of her shoes clicking against the smooth tiling.

The silence gives her too much to think, honestly. She wonders about how the Hemlocke's and the staff are doing, and what will happen once people get discharged from treatment.

Will she be let go from her job as a maid for running off? Will Zombie blame her for not warning anyone? What will happen to Kantje if they find him?

She swallows down those overbearing thoughts. Later, she tells herself. It is a problem for later. Right now, she's going to go check on the people she cares about.

Out of nowhere, her shoulder collides harshly with another.

Ivory flinches hard, and realizes that she hasn't been paying any attention to her surroundings at all.

"I-I'm so sorry, I—"

Oh. Oh. She knows who that is. Those stark blue eyes, brown hair—

"Ivory," Pyro's voice floods with both surprise and overwhelming relief, "Oh my goodness, I'm so glad to see you're alright."

"Pyro, sir." Ivory breathes softly, "I'm— uhm, I-I'm very relieved to see you as well. How are you doing?"

He grins, "Oh, I'm alright. I was— I didn't see you earlier, It's great that you're okay. I'm not incredibly hurt, don't worry."

"That's good to hear, sir. I'm sorry that I didn't come looking for you earlier, I- I was talking to Mr. Clown." She mumbles, a shy smile on her face.

Pyro shakes his head quickly, "No, no— don't worry about it. I was just on my way to visit Zam. I'm just so relieved to see you."

"I'm relieved to see you as well," Ivory agrees, "D-did you know that our club has more members now?" She says abruptly.

He blinks, seemingly confused for a moment before his face lights up with curiosity, "Oh! Haha, you're talking about that. I'm guessing you finally found out about Clown and Ash, then?"

"Ah," Her cheeks flame in embarrassment, "Well. I should've figured that you already knew. I-I was a little surprised, but they seem happy together."

"They are. I didn't say anything because it wasn't exactly my story to tell but yes, I've known for a while and I've been sort of... helping them keep it under wraps."

What a kind man Pyro is.

"Mr. Zombie would be so mad." She says humorously.

He snorts dryly at that, "He would."

"Oh, in fact— speaking of Mr. Zombie, how is the rest of your family doing? Is there any serious injuries?" Ivory questions.

Pyro's grin falters slightly, "Ah well, the whole situation there is a little complicated. I don't think I can disclose all the details, but for the most part— nothing too bad."

"Is that so?" Ivory tilts her head. I hope I'm not overstepping by asking, sir."

"No, it's fine. Izzy and Muu have some minor burns, nothing broken. Vi and Zam, since they went back for Ash— will take a little longer to recover." Pyro explains.

"And you, sir? You're alright?" She confirms, "You can be honest if there's anything worrying you."

He goes quiet, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I suppose this is all just... quite stressful." Pyro admits with a strained cough, "I overheard Vi arguing with dad in the hallways earlier. He was supposed to stay in bed, but dad dragged him outside to talk."

"Is Vi okay now?" Ivory asks worriedly. Vi is her friend as well, after all. She's seen first hand how harsh Zombie can be, even to his own children.

"As okay as he can be. He's strong, I can give him that. I- I don't know, dad actually seems upset with himself, and I can't tell if he's actually trying to work things out with the rest of us or not." Pyro says mournfully.

She understand that, given her own experiences with the man. "I don't think he's a bad person," Ivory says, startling herself a little as she realizes what she's saying. "Uhm... h-he can be quite demeaning sometimes, but I'm sure it could just be his past. I'd like to give him the benefit of doubt."

"I can't help but agree," He replies with a melancholic tone, "He's never been the same ever since our mother passed. Though, I do think that.. he's actually trying to make amends, especially after the fire. I don't know how well he's trying, but I suppose that he is putting a noticeable amount of effort in."

Ivory nods lightly, "You're all very strong. Especially you, sir. Even after everything, you've never let Mr. Zombie's nonsense get to your head, a-and you're very straightforward and clear minded. I hope things work out for you all."

"Thank you, Ivory." His expression is still a little solemn, but there's hope shining in his eyes. "I really do appreciate all the support you give me. Especially in times like this, knowing i'm not alone is.. nice."

"I'm glad I could be a source of support. You're an incredibly kind person, and I'm lucky to serve you." Ivory replies sincerely. "I- I was actually looking for you back at the fire, but Serapter figured that you had already left by then."

"Oh, sorry. I, ah— I probably was gone by then. Dad was very fussy, of course..." His voice trails off momentarily before he clears his throat, "Again, I'm really glad you're alright. Gotta keep our little population alive, right?"

"Right," Ivory smiles. "Our population of at least four or five."

Pyro snickers quietly, a warm grin returning to his face. "Really, it means a lot to me. If— If it's not an odd request, could I give you a hug, Ivory?"

"That's alright." She says without hesitation. Typically, she isn't one fond of physical touch. However— knowing it is Pyro, who would never hurt a fly, who has spent all this time trying to support her, who has always believed in her— "You can hug me."

"Oh, good. Thank you so much." He whispers back, his voice thick with emotion as he slowly pulls Ivory into an embrace. "I'm extremely grateful to have met you."

"I am grateful for you as well. You've given me many opportunities, a-and you've let me express myself."

Ivory has held that part of her back for the longest time. She was certain that if she ever told anyone about that side of her again— she'd be cast away like the very first time she did.

To hear Pyro be so accepting and supportive, it feels like a bandage to a wound that has been open for years. She's finally, finally getting a sense of closure, and she just feels so lucky.

"Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Who you love, and who you want to be— that is your choice, Ivory. No matter what anybody says, stay true to yourself." Pyro says firmly.

Ivory smiles, "I appreciate your words. I- I hope things work out for you, really. You're a very generous man."

"Thank you. I hope so too," He murmurs as he finally pulls back, his eyes gentle. "I think the fire has changed everyone. I'm not sure what will happen next."

"I don't either." She confesses worriedly,

Pyro, noticing the troubled look that crosses her face— chuckles quietly. "Don't spend too much time dwelling on what will happen next. Go check on Serapter, and keep your mind off of that. We'll figure things out, one way or another."

Ivory takes a deep breath, then nods. "I think that's good advice, sir." She chuckles back, "Please don't let that stress get ahold of you either."

"Yes, I'll keep that in mind." He promises dutifully, "Let's talk again later, okay? I think we've both held each other up long enough."

"Okay. I'll see you later then, sir. Please take care of yourself, and give Mr. Zam my best wishes." She says, bowing her head lightly. Ivory knows that Pyro couldn't care less about formalities, but its habit for her to always remain respectful.

Expectedly, he scoffs and does scold her for being so demure. Pyro reminds her that she can call him by his real name, act casual, and then he gives her a simple wave and continues on his merry way with a smile on his face.

Pyro is a very, very good man. She hopes that he gets all the good things in this world. Ivory smiles back to herself as she inhales slowly, and exhales to ground herself again.

Right. She still has Serapter to visit.

By now, she presumes that he's out of his surgery, resting. She'll just go in and check on him, and if he's sleeping— she can simply go a hallway down, where Ash is staying.

Ivory proceeds, and begins to reflect on her conversation with Pyro as she walks. She wonders how Vi is doing if he had a talk with Zombie.

Maybe it is true that Zombie is trying to better himself. Maybe it isn't. At least, if Vi is okay— Ivory can ask him later, and she doesn't have to contemplate on what the  answer is.

She's so focused in her thoughts of how the Hemlocke's are doing that she almost misses the room where Serapter is supposedly staying.

She blinks, slips the crumpled note out of her pocket to confirm it is Serapter's, then shamefully backtracks towards the room.

Gently, Ivory eases the door open, careful to not make too much noise. She braces herself, though she isn't sure why, because when the door is finally halfway open— Serapter is there, sitting up from his bed at the sound of the creaking.

"Ivory!" He grins, all warm and familiar.

"Serapter," She greets back, "I'm sorry I didn't visit earlier. I would've come sooner if I knew you were already out."

He scoffs, waving his hand dismissively— there's a slight wince after, but Ivory pretends not to notice. "Pfft, don't sweat it! I'm all good now, and I only got out like, maybe twenty minutes ago anyways."

She nods in acknowledgment, and finds her way over to the couch beside his bed. After sitting down, she leans closer to inspect him. "And how are you now? Are you still in pain?"

"Uhh..." He hunches forward, sweeping the blanket that covers his torso and downwards off to reveal his leg, "I- I mean, a little, I guess. The doctors said it'll take a bit before my leg goes back to normal, 'cause the wood hit it pretty hard, then it also went through the fire."

Ivory frowns as she observes the bandages now wrapped around his leg, extending from his calf down to his ankle. "Is there any permanent damage to your leg then?"

Serapter smiles optimistically, "Hopefully not! They're signing me up for this new physical therapy program, so if that goes well— my balance and stuff should be fine. I might just have like, a limp or chronic pain at worst."

"Right. That's good." She comments astutely.

"Yep!" He beams, "How are you? You weren't hurt, were you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I-I'm glad to see you're okay."

"I mean, it's thanks you." Serapter says aptly, "You were the one who dragged me out that fire after all."

"I thought you were going to die."

Ivory is never going to get that memory out of her mind. She will see fire, and it will never be comforting again. Instead, all it will do is bring her back to that very moment she realized that her best friend was still trapped inside a burning building.

"Ah, well... I'm built different, so it's alright! There's no need to fuss over me anymore." He tries to interject, but that sinking feeling in her heart, and that ever-present fear that things will somehow get worse— it has already rooted itself inside of her.

Right now, she should be relieved. Her best friend is by her side, and she's never felt more accepted. But on the contrary, her mind is still racing with worsening scenarios of what might happen if things don't stay the way they are.

Breathing suddenly feels hard. It feels like how it was back at the fire, when smoke clouded her lungs and every inhale had an overwhelming taste of bitterness. She hates it, she wants it out— she feels dirty.

Dirty from the fire, dirty for wanting to hurt Kantje, dirty for wanting to love who she wants.

Reassurance from Clown and Pyro is overturned by the fear in her mind. After all her impulsive decisions, can she even call herself Serapter's friend anymore?

"Hey, hey, Ivory— what's wrong?" Serapter's voice cracks, slightly alarmed as he reaches out for her shaking hands. If anything, she should be worried for him, but somehow— in this moment, it's become the other way around.

"Am I a bad person, Serapter?" She asks feebly. "D-do you think I'm a bad person?"

"Why would you think that?" He asks ingenuously, "Wh- you're not a bad person at all."

There's a brief pause, then softly— "Is this about when you were going after Kantje?"

She nods wordlessly, tears filling her eyes. "I was going to hurt him."

"Because he did it?"

"Yes. Mr. Pierce says he doesn't want to harshly charge Kantje after I told him, b-but— even though I didn't do it, I still feel like a bad person."

"Oh, Ivory. That doesn't make you a bad person." Serapter murmurs reassuringly, "I'm sure Clown told you the same thing, and I think so too. You aren't that kind of person, and I know that."

She laughs through a sniffle, "I-I'm sorry. Am I really that predictable?"

"I think I just know you too well."  He admits with his own laugh, "You're my closest friend."

"Thank you for calling my name." Ivory whispers, "I would've done something bad."

"People do bad things. That doesn't always make them bad people. You were scared, and so was he. You know, you could've just ran off without listening to me, but you didn't." Serapter points out, "I feel like you're just being hard on yourself."

"Maybe." She admits truthfully, blinking away the rest of her rising tears.

"Well, don't. I'm one hundred percent, completely certain, that without a doubt— you are the greatest, nicest person I know." 

"Thank you, Serapter."

His fingers wrap nimbly around hers, giving a light squeeze. "Don't sweat it. We're going to be fine, alright? I'm gonna be fine, and you're gonna be fine."

She squeezes back, eyes downcast. "You've saved my life as well, you know. I- I feel eternally grateful for you."

"Huh?" A clueless smile spreads across his face.

"Because... uhm, you've always been there for me. Even when the detective was being weird, o-or after he hurt me, and even now—" Ivory swallows, "You've always been here for me."

Serapter's thumb brushes over her skin in a gentle rhythm, a quiet, fond sigh escaping under his breath. "Yeah, of course I have. That's because you're my friend, Ivory. Of course I'm not gonna stand for that, or let yourself think that you're alone. You aren't, alright? I'm always gonna be here."

"I'm... always going to be here for you too." She says slowly. The words are unfamiliar, but it isn't something she regrets saying. "If you ever need anything, I want to help you. Always."

"Sch-weet!" Serapter's smile is full of unfiltered joy, so reassuring and refreshing all at once. "I'm glad to stick with you."

"Haha," Ivory giggles quietly, "I like being by your side as well."

Serapter glances at their entwined hands, then back at his legs. With a shrug, he carefully pulls away from Ivory's hand, (to her dismay, because his hand is warm.) plucks the blanket off his legs and a little less carefully— swings his legs over onto the side of the bed that faces Ivory.

"Careful—"

"I'm fine!" He assures, waving his hand when she lunges forward to offer support. "Just wanted to like, talk to you without feeling like I'm on my deathbed."

"Oh." She retracts, coughing awkwardly as she straightens her back. "Okay, well— please don't strain yourself. That wouldn't be very good."

"No, no.. it wouldn't.." He agrees solemnly, "I'll keep that in mind. When I do get out, you wanna go get some ice cream?"

"Huh?" Ivory blinks, a perplexed, slight smile spreading on her lips. "What?"

Serapter giggles back, nodding vigorously. "Yeah, no— the food here isn't that good, and I really want some ice cream. So?"

"Yes, sure. I would like ice cream too." She concurs.

"Awesome!" He whoops, doing little jazz hands in celebration. "Man, I really can't wait to get out of here now."

Her little smile grows at that, and just for fun— she decides that now is better than ever to say it.

"Oh, I'm gay, by the way."

Serapter's silly little jazz hands pause, then he shrugs again, and goes back to doing his jazz hands. "Oh yeah, figured. Just wanted to throw a fun fact in there, huh?" He laughs.

"Yep." She nods bluntly.

A beat.

Then, he doubles over, laughter overtaking him as he's unable to stop himself. Through muffled giggles, his words are full of affection as he says, "See? This is why you're my best friend."

Her cheeks warm at that. She can't help but start giggling in unison, taken aback by the absurdity of it all.

Despite everything, it's her and Serapter now. They're both okay, and that impending fear in her heart has finally been laid to rest.

She can think about what comes next later. Hypotheticals about what will happen to Kantje, about how Vi is doing, about what will happen after everyone has recovered— she'll deal with those thoughts afterward.

For now, she just wants to drink in this quality time with Serapter. He is like pure, liquid sunlight with a gentle warmth that brings her a sense of safety.

Yeah, that's nice. Safe. Her and Serapter are safe. Finally, things feel okay.

"Man, I really want that ice cream." Serapter says plainly when his laughter eventually dispels.

"Yeah. Me too."