A String of Errors

His eye sockets widened slightly in concern as he witnessed the other twitch, remaining where he was as the other recovered. If Geno was bluntly honest, he’d much rather be alone again without this skeleton talking to him. But he decided to stay quiet, because who knows how this guy might react to that?

“Why? I can’t leave here, and there’s basically no way out that I know of. If I do leave, I’ll turn straight to dust in a matter of seconds. But I’m not going to reveal exactly why I’m here. That’s a little… too personal. It’s too long of a story.”

Error blinks, only to reach out a hand to his side... and simply pulls apart the fabric of space-time on the spot. It’s easier to just pull it apart and make it lead to The Anti-Void, it’s pitch white almost blinding in a dark space like this.

“...”

“What.... w͝h̡at̷ ̸w͞o͏ul̨d we...w̢e̢͡ ̕͞d̸̡̡o̕҉?́”   

“Not ̴t̛hat͜ ̶its ̕a̡n͜y̕ òf͘ y̨oųr bus͡ine͘ss͜.̵.͏.”

Still keeping his distance, Geno merely nodded in response to what the other told him first. Well, he wasn’t thought of as a threat either. That had to be a good thing, right? It’s not like Geno could really do anything from where he currently was. Nothing he had done or wanted to do had succeeded, anyway.

“Anti-Void? No, that’s not what this place is. You’re in the Save Screen,” he explained, watching the other skeleton carefully. “There’s not a whole lot here. Just blackness.”

A longer pause, lingering, hanging and... Error’s whole form twitches, almost convulsing with a low, strained noise in the back of his throat. He doesn’t crash, not fully, not a reboot, but when it does pass, the dark skeleton blinks. 

It takes him a few, sockets narrowing at Geno, unable to remember right off the spot before...

... he’s grinning, oddly perked up. 

He looked slightly better, but it was obvious there were sign of fatigue there. Dream toed of his boots and joined Error in the nest. He positioned himself behind the other and wrapped his arms loosely around his middle, holding him. If he wanted to, after that, he could be like a backrest of a chair, leaning back, and they could watch those shows together.

🌟 You’re welcome, Error.

An extra box of tissues was brought as well, for good measures. He pressed his teeth to the back of the dark skeleton’s skull lightly, before resting his chin on his shoulder for now.

There’s a small bit of panic, there always was, when Dream wrapped around him. A part of him wanting to flail and kick out and toss that soup to wherever and screech and scream and....

... but that kiss was nice, and even if his form was shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind, so, so fearful of fucking this moment up... he’s calming. Because even when he had messed up or startled, Dream had been patient, understanding, and more the calm with him. Calm enough to endure all of this, for so, so long.

Error’s form eventually does sink, curling back against Dream as he dips his skull to start eating, downing the soup half mechanically in his ill state, before the bowl is set aside shortly after.

That tablet is saved once more, the darker skeleton moving them both, leaning back and curling in so they both and slump in the soft. More coughs wrench free form Error’s chest, making his form flicker, but no crash seems eminent.

Dream worked as fast as he could, but the soup still had cook properly, mainly the noodles. Extra, just for Error. He stirred the contents, glancing to the dark skeleton in the nest from time to time. He seemed docile right now, and Dream found it somewhat unsettling.

He was used to Error being full of energy.

he hummed, after a few minutes, putting soup in a bowl. He found a spoon and went back to the nest.

🌟 Error, I’ve got your soup.

He said, standing by the edge of the nest.

He’d been halfway to dozing off when Dream came, enough to shake him from whatever had drawn him in, Error’s form moving, sitting up and swaying, but the tablet is set aside on a pillow, still playing, as he takes the bowl. 

Error huffs, his odd, mis-matched gaze moving. “Yo̕u̕’r҉e ͞a͘ ̛d͞e҉a̢d̨ t̴im͟e͘li̴ne, ̶şo͡ y҉ou’re ̡not͏ a t̨hr̕eat͢.͟ Bút͜ ̢s̴t́i͘ll͘ ͘à ̕cla̕ss͢ic̴...̸ ͞I̧’m̷ ͡ńot s̛ure̛ wh͜at t͠o ̷do͘ ̡ẁit͞h i̛t͜ o҉r҉ yo͘u̶.͢ ͠Not ͝yȩt at le̛ast.͡..” His form flickers, only a moment, but he stands his ground, looking a little lost for a few passing moments.

There’s a lingering bit where Error just looks puzzled at why he’s here and how he’s here or where here even is. It’s probably the span of white that’s doing it, confusing and messing wit his head more than his glitched coding normally did.