Abandoned and Found
Summary: Skizz is ten years old with a father who hates him. One day, his father tricks him and leaves him to be found and caught by the human kid. It's a death sentence, but thankfully, Impulse is a lot kinder than Skizz had been anticipating.
Warnings: fear, abuse, child abuse, neglect, leaving a child to die, parent blaming child for other parent's death, crying, and panic
Word Count: 6008
AO3 Link
It's time for Impulse and Skizz's backstory in the bbbcau! Here we go! I hope you guys enjoy!
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 Skizz was not wanted.
 It was hard to not see that, with the way his father ignored him time and time again. Over time, Skizz learned to like being ignored. Because if he was being ignored, then that meant he wasnât being hurt.Â
 You would think that borrowers would treat their kids better. Wouldnât turn to the same hatred or neglect that some humans did with their own kids. Borrowers were so few and far between after all. Each borrower child should be treated with the utmost care and love.
 Thatâs what should have been the case. But it wasnât for Skizz.
 So, one day, when Skizz was barely ten, his father told him he was coming along on his borrowing trip. Skizz wasnât sure what to think but part of him, the part that always longed for his fatherâs approval, hoped this was the start of something better. That maybe his dad had realized where he was wrong and that Skizz was useful. That Skizz could help him.
 Skizzâs excitement grew as he grabbed his borrowing bag, unused until now, and followed his father out of their little home and through the tunnels in the walls. Skizz tried catching up with his dad, falling in line with him for just a moment before his dad turned to him with narrowed eyes. Skizz tensed and paused, falling back behind his father before walking again, his head a bit lower this time.
 Still, he didnât let that get him down. His dad was finally trusting him with a borrowing run. He could prove himself here and show his dad he was worth keeping around.
 Skizz hesitated as they made it to the wallâs exit, the open area of the house waiting for them beyond the small hole. His father sent him a look as he went through and Skizz bit back his nerves as he followed. The sheer scale of everything never failed to make Skizzâs knees weak.Â
 They appeared to be in a bedroom and underneath a desk. Skizz went over to the leg of the desk and looked around the room as much as he could. It was empty, thankfully, but as he glanced at the bed pushed up against the wall and the toys decorating the shelves and floor, Skizz realized they were in the human childâs bedroom.
 Skizz blinked and looked over toward his father, wondering what it was they needed to borrow from the kidâs room of all places. It was sort of an unspoken rule that you didnât go anywhere where kids were likely to be. And their bedroom was the main one off limits.
 âDad, why are we-â Skizz was cut off by a harsh shush from his dad and Skizz quickly shut his own mouth. His father glared at him before turning away and motioning for Skizz to follow as he moved away from underneath the desk.
 Skizz swallowed thickly but followed close behind, his hold tightening on his bag as his eyes darted around the room, half expecting the human kid to jump out at any moment. The room was empty though and he and his father continued to walk until they reached the nightstand near the bed.
 His father remained silent even as he dug into his bag and pulled out his hook. Skizz simply watched, a bit mesmerized as he watched his dad unfold the string before winding it up and throwing it to the top of the nightstand. It wasnât until he noticed his fatherâs glare that Skizz realized he was meant to do the same.
 Skizz tensed and scrambled to get his hook and string out, nerves alight as he realized it had gotten tangled together. He heard his father huff angrily as he tried to untie the knots and glanced up to see his father already climbing up the string. Skizz bit his lip and tried going faster, finally untying all the knots and unfurling his hook from the string completely. He had no time to waste, so he swung the hook around his head and threw it up.
 By some miracle, it hit its mark on Skizzâs first try.
 Skizz grinned and looked up toward his father. His grin faltered as his father, now at the top of the nightstand, simply stared down at him with crossed arms, his foot tapping against the wood impatiently. Skizz lowered his head a bit and tugged on the string to make sure it was secure. When it didnât come undone, he started the climb up.
 Skizz wasnât as skilled or seasoned as his dad in climbing, so it took him a bit longer to shimmy up the string and haul himself up and onto the nightstand. His dad barely passed him a glance as he headed over toward the edge of the nightstand that was facing out into the room. Skizz bent down to collect his hook and string but his father stopped him.
 âLeave it.â He said roughly and Skizz did, snapping his hand back and standing back up. He turned away from it and followed his dad over to where he was.Â
 âHelp me open this.â He said, again not even looking over at Skizz. Skizz came closer and realized his dad needed help opening the drawer of the nightstand. His father currently had his feet against the lip of the drawer as his hands laid flat on the nightstand behind him for leverage. Skizz copied his position and together they both pushed until the drawer was open enough where they could slip through and then some.
 Skizz scrambled back as to not fall in and stood up, going a little bit closer to peer over the edge and into the drawer. He expected to see some paper clips or pencils, maybe some tissue paper. But to his surprise, the drawer was empty.
 âWait, but then what-?â Once again, Skizz was cut off by his father. But instead of it being from a shush or a glare, Skizz felt himself being pushed. Skizz fell with a cry, landing in the drawer with a quiet thud. The drop hadnât been too big but it still hurt and it still left him a bit winded. He recovered fast though, the adrenaline of the moment giving him the strength to push himself up and turn himself over, looking up at his father with wide eyes as he did nothing but stare down at him.Â
 âD-Dad, what...?â Skizz tried to get out becauseâŚwell, he must be imagining things right? His dad hadnât pushed him. That was-that was absurd. He must have just slipped and fell in himself. Right?
 But he remembers feeling something press against his back, pushing him into the drawer. And seeing the look on his fatherâs face made him shiver in realization. But before Skizz could say anything more, question him further, his dad spoke.
  âI tried. I really did.â His father said, turning his head away from Skizz for a moment. He seemed to stare off into the distance before shaking his head and turning back to glare down at Skizz. Which caused Skizz to flinch. âBut each passing day you started to look more and more like her.â His father grit his teeth, his glare burning with anger and hatred, more hatred than Skizz had ever seen. âAnd you donât deserve to look like her. The only reason sheâs even gone is because of you.â
 Skizz swallowed the forming lump in his throat at his fatherâs words. He knew he was talking about his mother. He knew all his fatherâs past aggressions toward Skizz was because his father believed it was Skizzâs fault that his mother had died. In truth, his mom had died giving birth to him. And with how much his father constantly reminded him of this fact, Skizz couldnât help but believe him. It was his fault his mother had died.
 But he never would have thought his father would take things this far. With the way he was speaking, it sounded like his dad planned on leaving him in here.
 âDad, please, I-I donâtâŚIâm sorry-â Skizz tried but was once again cut off and ignored.
 âAt least now Iâll get some peace. I wonât have to see her eyes haunting me everywhere you go.â His dad sounded final but Skizz couldnât just leave it like that. If he was left here, he would surely be caught.
  Maybe he could use that. His dad obviously didnât care about him. He was seeing that now, should have seen that before. And he had, he had just stupidly chosen to ignore it. But while his dad might not have cared about him, he had to at least care about the secrecy and safety of all borrower-kind, right? âYou'reâŚYouâre just going to risk borrowers being discovered?â Skizz said with a shaky voice, trying hard not to cry. âIf Iâm found thenâŚthen youâre putting yourself at risk too!â
 But his reasoning fell flat as his father just huffed. And what he said next made Skizzâs blood run cold.
âHeâs a kid, and a little boy at that. Heâll probably kill you before he even realizes you're alive.â His father said it so casually, as if he wasnât talking about leaving his son to die.
 Oh god, he was leaving Skizz here to die.
 Skizz watched as his father turned around and started to walk away and out of sight. His eyes widened, realizing this was really happening. âDad, wait! Please donât leave me here! Please! Dad!â Skizz yelled, tears falling from his face. But his dad didnât so much as answer. Skizz could vaguely hear the sound of his dad climbing back down to the ground using his hook and string. And Skizz could only assume he was taking Skizzâs own back with him as well.
 âDadâŚâ Skizz attempted one last time, his voice trailing off as he realized his dad was probably gone. He choked on his next breath as he sobbed, rubbing at his eyes to stop the constant stream of tears. His dad had left him and now he was going to be caught and killed by a human kid.Â
 He didnât want to die.
 He wasnât sure how much time had passed after that. His tears had stopped a while ago but his heart still raced at the thought of what would happen to him whenever the human kid got back home. He curled himself up into a ball in the far corner of the drawer, nothing to do but wait and dread.
 It both felt long and not long enough when Skizz finally heard the door to the bedroom open. Skizzâs breath hitched and he looked out toward the opening of the drawer with wide eyes, despite the fact he couldnât see anything more than the ceiling from this angle.
 âMake sure you get your homework done first!â A faint, female voice yelled from somewhere beyond the bedroom.Â
 âI know, I will!â This voice was so much closer and louder but otherwise not unlike his own in the sense of how young it sounded. Skizz could feel himself shaking at the voice, at the very little distance between himself and the human kid.Â
 As he heard the door to the room shut, he knew it wouldnât be much longer.
 He almost just wanted to curl up and ignore everything, let his death come as a surprise. At least then it might feel quick to him. But instead, he couldnât help but strain his ears for any sort of sound. Any indication that the human was getting closer. He heard the sound of a bag rustling and some papers moving along with some footsteps. But as those sounds grew slightly louder, they suddenly all stopped.
 âHuh?â Skizz heard the human say and Skizz held his breath, his eyes never leaving the gap. âThatâs weird, I could have sworn I left this closedâŚâ The human continued and then slowly, but surely, a towering figure came into Skizzâs view, overtaking the ceiling and making it so that all he could see was the humanâs face as he peered inside the drawer.
 Skizz couldnât move as the humanâs eyes widened in shock.
 âWhat theâŚ?â The human started and suddenly Skizz was jerked as the human opened the drawer more, pulling him into the light of the room. He fell onto his back at the sudden motion and opened his eyes just in time to see the giant hand coming straight for him.
 âN-No!â Skizz shouted, bringing his arms up and trying to shield himself despite knowing it wouldnât do anything. If the human wanted to grab him, the human would grab him.Â
 He expected to be grabbed at any moment but when several seconds passed and still nothing happened, Skizz hesitantly lowered his arms enough to peek up and over them. The hand was gone but the humanâs face was closer now, watching him with furrowed brows.Â
 âSorry.â The human said, his voice low. âAre youâŚokay?â
 Skizz blinked and almost jumped when his vision blurred, only to realize a moment later that he was crying. Again. He tried to wipe his tears away, he needed to be able to see. He needed to know when the human would make his move. But more tears simply replaced the ones he wiped away and his vision was still a blurry, wavy mess.
 âOh geezâŚâ He heard the human mutter and that was all the warning Skizz got before he finally felt what he had been dreading. The humanâs hand curled around him and Skizz forwent trying to stop his tears to thrash against the grip. He pushed and kicked against the massive fingers but they barely even flinched against them.
 His arms got caught within the grasp and as the human solidified his grip they got pinned to his sides. âL-Let me go!â Skizz cried but his voice was too shaky and thick from his cries. After a moment, Skizz fell limp, knowing everything was fruitless. The human had him and there was nothing Skizz could do about it.
 As he was lifted out of the drawer, the human spoke again. âSorry, sorry, sorry.â He soundedâŚpanicked? That was weird and not at all what Skizz had been expecting.
 He also wasnât expecting to feel himself settle on something solid either.
 He opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) just as he felt the grip around his body leave. His tears still blurred his vision but he could at least make out the fact that he was now back on top of the nightstand. He looked back up at the human as he suddenly started to speak.
 âSorry, I just, I didnât really know what else to do. I-I figured you wanted out of there butâŚI mean, youâre crying and I justâŚâ the human looked sheepish, maybe even a bit guilty. âIâm sorry.â He said, this time in a low tone that was much more mumbled than before. âI should have asked firstâŚespecially since you had already shouted at me to stop.â The human winced at that, as if just remembering that had happened.
 Skizz took in several deep breaths and once again tried wiping away his tears. Thankfully, no other tears followed this time and his vision cleared up. It did nothing to lessen his fear though, in fact, it almost made it worse to see the human so clearly looming over him. But then, as if reading his mind, the human lowered himself down so that he was now eye level with him. It wasnât much better, but it was something.
 âAre you okay?â The human asked once again and though Skizz still felt shaky with fear and like his heart was going to jump out of his chest, he answered.
 âN-Not reallyâŚâ Skizz said quietly, his voice somewhat back to normal now that his sobs had subsided.Â
 The human winced at his answer. âIâm sorry.â The human bit his lip and Skizz could tell he didnât really know what else to do. âIs thereâŚcan I do anything to help?â
 Skizz was so confused. Why would the human want to help him? Why wasnât he being grabbed again? In fact, why had the human put him down in the first place? Everything he had ever heard about humans told him that they wouldnât hesitate to grab you, or keep you, or play with you, or kill youâŚthere were so many things a human could do.
 But not once had Skizz ever heard of a human being kind.
 Skizz felt like he was being tricked.
 He narrowed his eyes at the human and scooted back, putting more distance between the two of them. Not that it mattered when the human could just reach out and grab him from wherever he ended up on the nightstand but the distance still made him feel a bit better. âL-Leave.â Skizz answered, his voice shaky with fear as he made his request known.
 The human looked sad at what Skizz said but to Skizzâs utter shock, the human nodded. âOkayâŚif thatâs what will help.â The human then stood up and turned around, walking back towards his door.
 Skizz watched him walk away with wide eyes, his brain trying to process what was happening here. The humanâŚlistened to him? The human was leaving just like Skizz asked and it didnât seem to be a trick. It couldnât be, not with the way the human was fully leaving Skizz alone.
 Skizz didnât know why but he scrambled up to a stand and yelled over to the human before his hand was even on the doorknob. âWait!â Skizz almost felt his knees give out as the human looked back at him, but he stood firm and looked the human in the eyes.
 The human stared back, looking at him expectantly and Skizz was having a hard time finding the words. Any words. Why had he stopped the human from leaving? This had been his chance to escape and now he had ruined it. But as he tore his gaze away from the human and looked out over the nightstand, he realized with a growing dread that he would not be able to get down on his own. His father really had taken his hook and string and without it, there was no way he would be able to climb down.
 So, it looked like he needed the humanâs help after all. But it wasnât just that. He wanted-no, needed to know why the human was asking how he was. Why this human was turning everything he had ever been taught about humans on its head.
 Skizz took a deep breath, trying to appear much more put together, and bigger, than he actually was. âWhy are youâŚnotâŚI mean, why are youâŚâ Skizz hated that he couldnât get the words out. The human titled his head and stepped closer, causing Skizz to take a step back. The human stopped short, looking sad and Skizzâs eyes widened. âThat! Why do you keep doing that?!â
 The human blinked, looking down at himself as if that would give him the answer to what Skizz meant. âDoingâŚwhat?â
 Skizz huffed. âYou keepâŚlistening to me. You grabbed me but then you let me go and apologized and I donâtâŚI donât understandâŚâ Skizzâs shoulders rose up to meet his chin and he turned away.
 âOhâŚâ The human stood there, looking sadly at Skizz. âI meanâŚwhy wouldnât I?â
 And SkizzâŚreally didnât have an answer for that.
 He had heard so many horror stories of humans doing terrible things to borrowers but there was never a reason why they did those things. Not a real one anyway. His father always waved him off and said that was just what humans did. Borrowers were smaller than them, weaker, and so they took advantage of that.
 But that never really made any sense. After all, Skizz always thought if he was human and found someone smaller than him that he would help them and treat them well.
 Just like what this human was doing.
 âWellâŚthank you for getting me out of the drawer.â Skizz said, grateful despite how it had happened.
 The human looked surprised but nodded and then looked sheepish once again. âOf course, uhâŚsorry again for just grabbing you though.â
 Skizz swallowed once again at the, what? Third apology? It was strange but Skizz realized it was not strange in a bad way. âItâs okay.â Skizz said quietly, looking down. âYouâŚdidnât know.â Honestly, what else could he have done in that situation? Skizz hadnât planned on calming down any time soon after all.
 âUm, Iâm Impulse, by the way.â The human, Impulse, said with a slight hesitant laugh. âWhatâsâŚyour name?â
 Oh. Wow. Even after the strangeness of this interaction he hadnât been expecting for the human to ask for his name. For Impulse to ask for his name. âSkizz.â He said simply, a very faint smile on his face.
 Impulse had a bigger smile after learning Skizzâs name but it soon turned hesitant again. âItâs really nice to meet you. UmâŚdid you still want me to leave?â Impulse asked, pointing to the door behind him. Skizz had almost forgotten he had asked that of Impulse.
 âNo.â Skizz said and looked back over toward the edge of the nightstand again. âActually, can I get your help off this nightstand?â If Impulse was willing to do that, he could get back into the walls no problem.
 Impulse perked up. âOh, yeah of course!â Impulse stepped closer until Skizz was within reach. Skizz tried his best to not flinch back. Just because he figured Impulse wasnât going to hurt him, didnât mean he no longer had his fear of Impulseâs size. Impulse hummed and then carefully set his hand down, palm up, a few inches away from where Skizz stood. Skizz looked at the offered hand and then back up at Impulse. Impulse smiled. âI figured this would be better than grabbing you again.â
 Skizz was very thankful for that. He nodded and came up to the hand, hesitating slightly before stepping on. He crouched as Impulse started to move, the hand lifting into the air and then slowly lowering all the way to the ground. Skizzâs stomach did flips but otherwise the ride was smooth. As soon as the hand hit the ground, Skizz was off of it, back on solid ground.
 He turned to look at Impulse, his gaze appreciative. âThank you.â
 Impulse nodded and then bit his lip. âWill IâŚever see you again?â
 Skizz tensed and looked back toward his entrance into the walls. âIâŚdonât know.â He wondered if knowing that would change Impulseâs mind. Thankfully, Impulse just nodded.
 âWell, you are always welcome back.â Impulse said and then stood up and walked over to his desk to start on his homework. He figured Skizz would want to go off wherever it was without Impulse watching him. And he was right, Skizz was thankful for the lack of peering eyes.
 With Impulse at his desk, Skizz instead turned toward the bed, where he knew another entrance was, and rushed toward it. As soon as he was back in the walls, everything came crashing down on him all over again. He had gotten so caught up in how Impulse was acting and such that everything else had gotten pushed out of his head. Until right now, when things were calm again. He remembered how his father had led him out into Impulseâs room and pushed him into a drawer with the intent to-to leave him for dead.
 It was only because Impulse was kind that his plan didnât turn out.
 But despite everything awful about his father, heâŚhe still found himself seaking the manâs approval. Maybe, if he went back and his dad saw that Skizz was okay, that Skizz got away from the human, then maybe his father would think he was something after all.
 It was a longshot but Skizz couldnât help but hold onto that little bit of hope.
 Skizz rushed through the walls, going down the familiar winding paths as he finally made it to the little corner they called home. He took a deep breath, but as he entered, he froze in the makeshift doorway, his eyes wide as he took in everything.
 It was a mess. Nothing like how they had left it before going out. Their home had been ransacked, everything was toppled over and broken or just completely gone. Skizz walked through the house, feeling numb as he noticed what kinds of things were broken or missing.
 All the food they had saved up in their reserve was gone or completely ruined. Squashed and too dirty even for a borrower to eat. All the makeshift furniture throughout the home was broken and flung all over the place but the worst of it all was in Skizzâs room.
 The sock he used to sleep in was cut in such thin stripes there would be no way Skizz could ever repair it. His other set of clothes were the same, cut and scattered around, though with his clothes Skizz noticed some of the pieces of fabric that had been cut out were just missing altogether. His wall had a fairly large hole through it and the dent had him looking at the toy block he used as a table. Which was far from where he had left it before.
 And finally, his hook and string, which were left in the middle of his messed up room, was destroyed as well. The hook part was bent so out of shape and the string was cut not once but 18 different times. Skizz counted, his numb mind latching onto the numbers to try and ground himself.
 He fell to his knees in the middle of his room and felt his tears fall yet again. He had lost track of how many times he had cried today. His tears fell and his lip wobbled and he couldnât stop the sobs that escaped him as he bent over his knees, hugging himself tightly and wondering what he had ever done to deserve this.
 His dad hated him so much that in the off chance he had escaped from the human, he had ruined Skizzâs chance to ever survive.
 Skizz cried harder.
***
 Skizz wasnât sure how long he stayed like that but eventually his tears dried and his throat was too sore to continue. He stood up and slowly realized heâŚhe couldnât stay here. There was nothing left for him, nothing he could use to try and make his own way. And even if there was, Skizz wouldnât be able to stay here anyway. There were too many painful memories, every broken piece of their lives reminded him too much of his father.
 It took everything Skizz had to leave the only home he had ever known. Empty handed except for the clothes on his back and the borrowing bag still wrapped around his shoulder, he left his old home behind, not looking back as he made his way through the halls of the wall once again.
 Skizz wasnât even sure where he was going until he stopped at one of the exits and realized it led into Impulseâs room. Skizz grabbed tightly at the strap of his bag and looked down. His body was shaking butâŚImpulse had been kind to him. So much kinder than anything Skizz had ever experienced before. At the very least, maybe Impulse would help him move.
 And at the mostâŚ
 Skizz took a deep breath and exited the walls, finding himself in Impulseâs room once again, underneath his bed. He looked out into the room, noticing Impulse was still at his desk, still scribbling away at his homework. Skizz looked up toward the window, realizing the light outside was fading quickly.
 He walked a bit, walked until he was no longer underneath the bed and then closer still to Impulse and his desk before pausing in the middle of the room and speaking up. âI-Impulse?â He called out. He didnât think he had been loud enough at first but Impulse was quick to turn around. His eyes scanned the floor until the humanâs gaze landed on Skizz. Skizz froze involuntarily before forcing himself to unfreeze. Impulse had already proven that he was nothing like the stories his father had told Skizz about.
 âSkizz! Youâre back.â Impulse said and then carefully got out of his chair before kneeling down on the ground a few feet away from Skizz. âBut I thoughtâŚâ Impulse trailed off as he noticed the look on Skizzâs face. Haunting and sad. Impulse frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. âSkizz? IsâŚeverything okay?â
 That alone was almost enough to make Skizz cry again but he held it back and walked forward. He kept walking until he was right in front of Impulse. Impulse looked like he wanted to say something else but all the words left him as Skizz leaned forward and pressed his face into Impulseâs knee.
 Impulseâs eyes widened. âSkizzâŚâ Impulseâs hand reached out but he hesitated. Skizz didnât though. The borrower looked to see where Impulseâs hand was and moved closer to it, inviting Impulse to meet him halfway. Impulse wrapped his hand around Skizz and Skizz buried himself within the fingers. The feeling was overwhelming but also warm and safe and Skizz needed that right now. Needed it more than he could properly convey.
 Impulse scooped Skizz up and lifted him until Skizz was chest level, He then hesitated a moment before moving his hand closer to his chest in the best hug Impulse could do with someone so small. Skizz took the opportunity to bury himself again, this time into Impulseâs chest.
 âWhat happened?â Impulse asked softly and Skizz didnât think he could say. Not now. Not yet. So instead, he asked something else.
 âCan I stay with youâŚplease?â His words were soft, quiet, because any louder and Skizz was scared he would burst into tears again and he had had enough crying for one day already.
 Impulseâs grip got ever so slightly tighter. âYeahâŚof course.â
 Skizz had never felt more relieved.
***
 âSkizz?â
 Skizz was brought back to the present by the sound of Impulseâs voice, the present, adult Impulse who he had known for years at this point. He blinked and looked up to meet Impulseâs gaze. He was currently sitting on his thigh, using his stomach as a backrest. The two had been just hanging out, enjoying each other's company as Impulse had finished up some homework. Impulseâs head was titled, his expression curious.
 âYou alright there buddy?â Impulse asked and Skizz blinked again before nodding. He hadnât realized how into his own memories he had been.
 âYeah, sorry. I was justâŚthinking.â Skizz said, wondering if he should tell Impulse what exactly he had been thinking about or not.
 Impulse hummed a bit but he didnât turn back to his homework. â...What were you thinking about?âÂ
 Skizz hesitated for a long moment, before sighing. â...My dad.â
 Impulseâs expression quickly turned to concern. âSkizzâŚâ
 âAnd about how we first met.â
 Impulse stopped and looked at Skizz with wide eyes. âReally?â
 Skizz chuckled. âYeah, it just so happens that my dad is a big part of thatâŚâ Skizz was glad he had met Impulse, obviously. But he wished it had been in any other way. He hated thinking about his dad in any context and it sucked that meeting his best friend for the first time had been ruined by that.
 Skizz sighed, looking away from Impulse. âI'd much rather think about the day after we first met.â He said, a slight smile appearing on his lips. âWhen I had woken up on that little makeshift bed made from a dishcloth you had scrounged up from somewhere.â Skizz thought back to the memory fondly. âI was still scared at that point, even though it had been my choice to come back and ask to stay with you, I was still scared of your sizeâŚand maybe of you changing your mind. But then you woke up and looked at me with those wide and kind eyes of yours, andâŚI had felt a warmth rush into my chest that I had honestly never felt before that moment.â
 Skizz knew, now, that what he had felt back then had been love. Love from his now best friend. That was what Skizz liked to remember the most. The first time he had ever felt like he was loved.
 The fact that it was by a human, a being who he had been taught since birth to fear and despise, and not from his own father, was more than a bit ironic.
 âAww, SkizzâŚâ Impulse said, eyes alight with fondness. Before Skizz could react he was being scooped up by Impulse and held up to chest level. âI didnât know you had felt like that. I mean, I could tell you were still a bit scared back then but I didnât realizeâŚâ Impulse trailed off with a small smile. He nudged Skizz gently with his thumb and Skizz leaned into the touch.
 âImpulse, you were the first person to ever show me love.â Skizz said, feeling a bit vulnerable admitting to that out loud but wanting his friend to know how much them meeting had meant to Skizz. âMy father hated me for things completely out of my control. And IâŚI didnât deserved that.â Something Skizz had learned and accepted fairly recently thanks to Impulseâs help.
 âYou didnât.â Impulse said, his tone firm. âAnd if I ever cross paths with your dad Iâm gonna show him-â
 âImpulse.â Skizz said with a raised brow.
 Impulse coughed into his free hand. âRight. Sorry.â
 Skizz chuckled. âI appreciate the sentiment buddy but I donât think weâre ever going to cross paths with him anyway.â In fact, he may never cross paths with any borrower ever again. The closest he had gotten was seeing the abandoned home in the walls, telling him a borrower had been here before.Â
 âI know, part of me just likes thinking about avenging you and getting back at him. For everything he did to you.â Impulse said, looking into the distance with barely concealed anger in his tone. Skizz was unfazed though, knowing the anger was never directed at him.
  âItâs in the past.â Skizz said, with a small smile as he caught Impulseâs eyes again. âBesides, I have you and thatâs all that matters to me.â
 âGeez.â Impulse said, a slight flush on his cheeks that Skizz noticed and laughed at. âSo sappy.â Impulse teased but his fond smile told Skizz all he needed to know.
 âOh really? And whoâs the one who wants to avenge me again?â Skizz asked as he crossed his arms, a smug look on his face. Impulse sent him a look and then smirked as he reached his pointer finger down and ruffled Skizzâs hair like crazy. Skizz yelped and pushed Impulseâs finger off of him, which Impulse moved as soon as he felt Skizz push up at him, and then tried his best to fix his hair.
 âYou jerk!â Skizz shouted, still trying to smooth his hair out.
 Impulse laughed and Skizz couldnât help but join in. They settled back down and Impulse set Skizz on his shoulder so the borrower could lean against his neck and have a better view of the laptop as Impulse saved and exited out of his essay, opening up netflix to find something for them to watch. It was time Impulse had a break from homework anyway.
 âWhat made you start thinking about all that anyway?â Impulse asked as he set everything up. Skizz shrugged despite knowing Impulse couldnât see him.
 âNot sure honestlyâŚâ Skizz admitted, scooting further into Impulseâs warmth. âIt justâŚpopped into my head for some reason.â
 Impulse hummed. âWeird.â He clicked a few more buttons on his laptop. âWell, if you ever need a distraction from those kinds of memories, you know Iâm always here.â
 âI know.â Skizz smiled. âI know.â















