Work Text:
MeTag wandered through the forest behind the mansion, searching for Paper. It had probably been about a month since the boat had left, but MeTag didn’t know for sure. They’d stopped counting the days a while ago.
Paper had asked to be left alone for 10 minutes - which MeTag respected - but it had been a lot longer than that, and Paper hadn’t returned, so they had gone out to look for him. Hopefully he wasn’t hurt or stuck.
MeTag eventually found Paper sitting on a cliff, coincidentally the same cliff where this whole mess started. They tried to walk up to him quietly, but their footsteps must’ve been too loud, because he turned to face them when they got a bit closer.
“Oh, hi MeTag,” Paper said, to which MeTag waved back. His face was slightly discoloured, with darker, shaky lines running down his page that started from his eyes. Had he been crying?
MeTag picked up a stick from the ground and began writing a question in the dirt. Paper got up and walked over to read what they wrote.
What are you doing out here?
“I was just watching the sunset,” Paper said in response, “This cliff had the best view, and I guess I lost track of time.”
That’s not the whole truth, is it?
Paper looked at the ground, as if he had been called out. Then he walked back to the cliff edge and sat back down, ignoring MeTag. They sat beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to get an answer out of him. After a while, Paper sighed, and laid down on the grass, legs still dangling over the edge. MeTag did the same.
“I miss him. I miss them all. It’s been so long since they left, what if…” Paper trailed off, but MeTag knew what the rest of the question was.
What if we never see them again?
They lay there in silence for a bit, but it was getting dark, and it would eventually be impossible to navigate through the woods, so they got up and started walking back. Paper had mostly dried by now, it was much harder to see the tear stains, but they were still visible. MeTag grabbed his hand in an attempt to comfort him. They weren’t sure if he would appreciate it, or immediately shake them off. But he didn’t let go.
That counted for something, at least.