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Multiverse Madness Chapter Sixty Eight

Ink's eye sockets cracked open, and the first thing he was aware of was the sheer agony in his skull and the ache in his entire body. He didn't feel... empty anymore- like he- His eye sockets widened completely, pure panic seizing his nonexistent soul. He had emotions, meaning he'd drank his vials at some point, be it by force or willingly, Ink couldn't remember, but he still had emotions.

Boss was going to kill him for sure, and granted Ink was immortal, Boss would make good on his promise of making Ink wish that he was dead. Ink looked around for any signs of where he was, seeing clear walls in front of him, paired with sterile white floors and more walls past them, and after a moment of looking around, he recognized this place. Sci's lab.

Ink tried remembering how he had ended up here, and despite the pain in his head, like something had been ripped out of his skull like the pulp of a pumpkin and a scraper had been used to scrape the remains out with it, leaving the area raw and bloody. Ink coughed a bit, black liquid he assumed was blood coming out into his hand. Coughing made him aware of another source of pain, Ink looking down at his chest to find his clothes soaked with his own black paint blood, and he vaguely remembered Knife stabbing him, the feeling of his ribs being sliced open dulled down like everything else had been.

The amount of stimulation he was receiving all at once was starting to get to be too much. The dungeon had been dark, but this was too bright; too vivid, and it was making him nauseous and feel blinded. The pain was still excruciating, inside and out, making even the slightest movements immediately regrettable, and closing his eye sockets to block out the light didn't work, because that just made him more aware of the rest of the pain he was in. Everything was loud, too; the normally quiet whirs of machinery graining on his nonexistent ears, worsening his already horrendous headache, and Ink had no ways to block it out.

Normally the loudest thing he heard was Boss's voice- at least, that's what had become normal, but the absence of it had left even his thoughts feel like he was screaming inside, and maybe he was. He knew he wasn't out loud, not with how raw his throat felt, like something vile and white hot had surged out of him, leaving him unable to even whisper without regretting it. Maybe they'd caught him while Boss was torturing him, and that was why it hurt so much?... He didn't feel like he deserved the pain Boss put him through anymore, but emotions didn't allow him to think clearly, right?... Wait, no, he could still think, despite how much it hurt right now, he just wasn't thinking the way he wanted him to- wait, no, don't think like that, he could still be listening....

Boss? Are you listening?.... Am I in trouble?....

No response.

Was he gone?.... Boss?... Are you there?

It was possible he could be trying to lull Ink into a false sense of privacy or security, and once his guard was down, he would reveal himself... Ink trusted Boss a lot less, now, he was noticing. Why had he trusted him so much before?... Ink couldn't figure it out, he just knew his head hurt, and everything hurt, and he just wanted it to stop. If he was in Sci's lab, Sci was probably there with the others, if they even wanted to see him or hated him after everything, and he wouldn't blame them... Not after everything Boss had him doing....

Ink took a deep breath before starting to try and push himself up, agony shooting up his left arm that made him bite back a scream, and he got a few inches off of the floor before he fell back against it. He looked up at the ceiling of this cell blearily, trying to get his strength up to at least sit up. He started only using his right arm, which didn't hurt nearly as much, and despite his body screaming in protest, he managed to sit up, taking a hoarse, shuddering breath, gasping quietly from pain as he sat slumped over slightly in the center of the cell. He looked around again, slowly to avoid getting too dizzy, which almost happened when his eyelights darted around.

He blinked, feeling paint bubbling up in his throat as he almost vomited, but he swallowed it down, shivering. He tried again, slower, and he saw no one there, despite hearing them distantly talking. He opened his mouth, but paused, wondering if they would even want to talk to him right now, much less be around him. That's probably why he was in here; as a punishment for what he'd done under Boss's command.

Still... he at least wanted to try and offer some form of apology, even if that wouldn't make up for everything, even if it wouldn't make the pain stop. Part of him felt like he deserved all of this, after everything. After everyone he'd killed and tortured... The Underfell Undyne who tried getting through to him, the other version of Blue-

Ink couldn't keep the paint down, the liquid rushing through his raw throat, spilling out onto his lap and the floor of his cell, and he shuddered, his throat growing more painful before lessening slightly as the paint coated it, but the mental pain still persisted. How could he have done that?... Ink wasn't sure if he wanted the others to come talk to him now, if he could even look them in the eye sockets after everything he'd said and done. He was a monster... and not just in one way.

Ink mustered some effort to press himself against one of the clear walls of the cell, wincing as his back hit it no matter how gentle and slow he tried to move, and he shuddered again from the pain. He slowly, shakily moved his arms to hug his knees to his chest, despite how much the movement hurt. He just wanted to curl up into a small ball and vanish forever. He felt tears forming in his eye sockets, the rainbow colors- not dull gray -spilling down his cheekbones as he choked back a sob, burying his skull in his knees and squeezing his eye sockets shut as he trembled.

He silently cried for... he wasn't sure how long, everything just a whirlwind of pain, sadness, grief, and so many other emotions he hadn't felt in so long that he wasn't able to properly name right now. Once he finally ran out of tears, he lifted his skull from his knees, albeit slowly again, and he looked around, seeing no one there still. Would they even want to know if he was awake?... Ink wasn't sure if they would or should care, or if he could even talk loud enough to alert them he was awake.

He blinked back a few more tears as they formed, not having the strength or resistance to the pain to attempt rubbing them away, and he sat there, curled up on the floor, trying to disappear. He heard two pairs of footsteps approaching, both familiar, with one light and measured and the other one a bit louder and slightly less measured but still in sync with the other pair. He looked up with shaky eyelights, guilt pooling in him as he saw his adopted parents round the corner, their eye sockets widening upon seeing him, and he fought the urge to avert his eyelights. He remembered attacking them, or at least trying to...

It made him have to fight down the urge to throw up again.

"Ink!" Top exclaimed, running over to him, and Ink winced at the volume, feeling his headache spike. Aster was soon to follow, Top going over to the control panel, muttering to himself, "How did Sci explain to open this, again?..."

Panic shot through Ink, and he yelped, albeit hoarsely and quietly, "d-don't!"

Top turned to look at him in confusion and concern, asking, "Don't? Ink, why not? It was only just in case you tried bolting when you woke up."

Stars did Ink want to, but he didn't have the strength to do so, and he knew if he left this AU, Boss would find him again. Ink shuddered at the thought, curling in on himself a bit further.

"Ink? What's wrong?" Aster asked softly, crouching down by the cell, a hand on one of the clear walls.

"i-i don't wa-ant to h-hurt y-you..." Ink whispered, and Aster's expression softened.

"Ink, I assure you, you would never hurt us." Aster told him, "He's gone, Ink. You're safe here, and you would never harm us on your own volition. It's ok. Come on, let down your walls."

Ink smiled slightly at the attempted joke, but it didn't last long, Ink looking back down at the floor of his cell again, and Aster seemed to notice the abundance of black paint around him.

"Oh my... Are you ok?" Aster questioned.

There were so many responses to that, none of them very good, and Ink shrugged a bit, unsure of which one to use before settling for whispering, "i-i just remembered s-some stuff i d-did..."

"Ink, you didn't do anything, alright?" Aster told him, "What happened was his doing. He made you do those things. You're not in any way responsible for what happened."

Ink hadn't been expecting that, looking up at him in confusion as a few tears pricked at his eye sockets, and he asked, "wh-what?..."

"Ink, we would never blame you for what happened. Everyone has been worried sick about you, especially Dream.. Top? Can you go tell them that Ink's awake, please?"

"But.." Top started, before relenting, "Alright, just... am I opening the cell?"

Ink shook his skull no again, still reluctant, and Top sighed sadly before running around the corner, likely to go get the others.

"Ink, be honest with me, please... Are you ok?" Aster asked, sitting down next to the containment chamber, his hand still unmoving from where he'd first placed it.

Ink shrugged a little, before whispering, "it h-hurts..."

"I know it does, son, I am so sorry..." Aster murmured, "Maybe Dream can use some healing magic-" Ink flinched so hard he gasped, a sharp pain going through his body, "- Or no, not that. No magic. Sci has some healing potions lying around here somewhere, I'm sure you can use all you need."

Ink shook his skull no again, mumbling, "i-i don't d-deserve it..."

"Of course you do!" Aster exclaimed, Ink wincing from the volume, and Aster gave him an apologetic look before lowering his tone, "Of course you do, Ink. No one here blames you for anything that happened, I can assure you of that. Don't give him the satisfaction of blaming yourself for the actions he forced you to take."

"i-i still-" Ink started, but Aster shook his skull no.

"Ink, no. It's ok. None of this is your fault." Aster reassured, and Ink looked up as Top ran back into the room, followed by Sci, Color, Knife, and Dream.

When Ink saw Dream, it was like he'd been stabbed in his nonexistent soul by a serrated blade in several places. Or maybe tortured by Boss again, he wasn't sure what would hurt worse. He felt tears building in his eye sockets again, quickly spilling out, and Dream looked... he looked like a kicked puppy, and Ink hated that face. He especially hated that it was directed at him.

"Please try and keep your voices down, I think he's dealing with a sensory overload of some kind." Aster advised, Ink feeling thankful for him being so considerate.

Dream took a step forward, and Ink pressed himself more firmly against the wall behind him, memories flashing through his mind of all the times he'd attacked Dream; all the awful things he said.... Ink felt his own self-loathing grow, and based on the look on Dream's face, he could sense it. Knife was watching Ink closely- in the way Killer did when he was analyzing him, making a mental copy of him and picking it apart piece by piece like a puzzle, figuring him out. Ink looked away from Knife especially, trying to avoid the hollow eye sockets that were boring into him, and he pulled up the dark gray scarf around his neck over his mouth, pulling the scarf attached to it over his skull and burying himself in it, the conversation outside of the clear walls becoming more indistinct as he paid less attention to it. He flinched as he heard someone teleport into the cell with him, and he looked up to see Knife crouched in front of him, white eyelight in his eye socket, showing Sheath was awake.

"hey, pal." Knife greeted, keeping his voice low, "you in pain?" Ink nodded a little after a moment, and Knife hummed, "i thought so. once you're emotionless for a while, any physical sensations when you're not... ick. yeah, it's gonna hurt..."

"i-it does..." Ink whispered, voice still hoarse and quiet.

"sounds like it." Knife noted, shifting on his feet to inch closer, "dream really wanted to come in here, but he'd be all huggy and touchy-feely, but you're probably not feeling all to up to that, are you?" Ink shook his skull no, keeping his movements small and slow, something Knife seemed to notice, "i wonder if they're jealous yet, that i'm in here trying to help you before they can be. you don't mind, do ya?"

Ink shrugged a little, still keeping some distance between them, mumbling, "i d-don't wanna hu-urt anyone e-else..."

"you're not hurting me, are you?" Knife questioned, and Ink shook his skull no, "you can barely even move, ink. you can't hurt anyone, even if he was trying to make you. he's gone, ink. your head's your own again. no passengers, or rather, other drivers in there."

"y-you don't know wh-what i-" Ink started, but Knife cut him off.

"ahtatatatatatatada." Knife shushed him, moving a bit nearer to him, "i don't need all the details, i can get the picture from how you're acting. . . . y'know, i've seen that look before, be it on sheath in his reflection, or even on murder." They were on speaking terms now?... "point is, it wasn't you."

"it-" Ink started, but Knife shushed him again.

"hey, no. save your words." Knife told him, "listen to me. if you'd done those things willingly or on your own, you wouldn't feel so awful about them right now. sure, everyone has regrets, but there's a point where it becomes more than that. you are horrified of yourself, ink. you did things you would've never done in a million years, and that's the point, isn't it? it wasn't all you. shattered-" Ink flinched, "-was in your head, pulling strings and making you his weapon. you were brainwashed."

Ink looked down, tightening his grip on his legs, and Knife scooted a little closer, slowly reaching out and putting his hands on his elbows, touch feather-light and ready to pull back if Ink flinched back.

"hey..." Knife started again, getting Ink to look at him, "i know how you're feeling, ok? i understand it, just like sheath does. he'd be out here, but he's not all to happy about what happened, and you need calm right now, don't you? someone to keep a level head to keep you as relaxed as you can be?"

Ink nodded after a moment, whispering, "i-it helps..."

"i know it does, buddy. that's why they agreed for me to come in here by you until you're ready to talk to them. sure, they aren't happy, but they know you need space and time to relax. you've been through hell, ink. as much as they want to be here for you, and believe me, they do, they aren't calm enough right now to talk to you without getting worked up at him and making you get scared. you're probably really scared right now, aren't you?" Ink nodded a little, "yeah, i thought so. you wanna tell me of what, besides you hurting them, because we've already agreed that's impossible right now, even without these walls."

Ink looked down, fidgeting a little with his fingers, and Knife adjusted his footing a bit again, getting even closer, but only slightly, and he mumbled, "him..."

"yeah, i thought so..." Knife said softly, "scared he'll get to you again? make you hurt them?" Ink nodded slightly, shivering, "so you admit it wasn't you? that it was him making you?"

Ink paused, looking up at him, jaw dropping slightly as he tried to think of a response, but his mind drew a blank, so instead he looked down again, curled in on himself despite the pain. Knife removed his hands from Ink's elbows, shifting to sit next to Ink.

"were you and killer close?" Knife asked after a moment, and Ink looked up at him for a moment before looking away again, nodding, "yeah, i figured. i saw the look on your face. why do you think that was?"

"h-he und-derstood wh-what it f-felt li-ike..." Ink whispered, voice cracking, "t-to f-feel empt-ty..."

Knife nodded a bit, questioning, "he didn't like him much, did he?" Ink shook his skull no, "yeah, i can't imagine anyone could. not with how much he reminds me of them... but this isn't about them. this is about you, realizing that he was the one hurting everyone. he messed with your mind, your sense of self... that wasn't you, ink. never for a moment think you would ever do anything like what he made you on your own, ok?"

"o-ok..." Ink agreed.

"is that just you agreeing with me?" Knife asked, and Ink shook his skull no again, "just makin' sure. you wanna talk to dream yet? i think he'll be able to keep a cool head. if he can't, i'll come in and get him out for you, ok? i'll be watching out there- speaking of, you still want these walls up?"

Ink nodded a little, and Knife nodded in understanding, wrapping an arm loosely around his shoulders, giving him a soft squeeze, and Ink leaned against his side, eye sockets squeezed shut as he soaked in the genuine comfort, not Boss's version. Knife wasn't empathetic or emotional, but he still knew what helped, and he didn't have any ulterior motives. Ink... really appreciated the gesture. Knife waited a few moments before pulling way, standing up and walking to the other end of the cell, teleporting out.

"dream, go on in, just try being quiet and calm, alright? do not stress him out." Knife told Dream, who nodded.

"of course, i just-" Dream started, and Knife cut him off, something he seemed to have a habit of doing.

"i know. i know you're pissed at you-know-who, but rein it in, otherwise i'm gonna go in there, take you out, and stay with him, alright?" Knife said, and Dream nodded. Knife saw a look from Color, who seemed proud from what Ink could see, and Knife responded to it, "oh come on, don't give me that look."

". . ." Color kept it up, smiling, and Knife sighed, looking off to the side.

"ugh, murder's makin' me go soft. i've spent too many damn nights calming him down from nightmares once he actually sleeps, not to mention the damn classes from sheath..." Knife muttered, and Ink tried to process what all that entailed as Knife walked away, leaning against one of the walls with his arms crossed, Color teleporting over to him.

Ink glanced back at Dream, making brief eyelight contact before Ink looked away, guilt returning to him again. Dream teleported into the cell a moment later, sitting on his knees across from Ink, looking at him with that stupid kicked puppy face that made Ink feel even more guilty. Dream didn't deserve to have to go through all of this because of him...

"i-i'm sor-" Ink started to apologize, but Dream gently interrupted him.

"ink, no, it's ok. none of this was your fault, ok? just like knife said." Dream told him, hesitating before asking, "are.... are you scared of me... after him?..."

Ink shook his skull no, "n-no... he.... boss m-made it v-very clear y-you two were di-fferent..."

"you don't have to keep calling him that, ink..." Dream told him softly, "you're free."

"wh-what if he's still wa-tching?.." Ink asked.

"i promise you, he can't be. his magic is gone from inside of your mind, ink. he has no control over you anymore." Dream reassured, gently holding his hand, "it's ok."

Ink still wasn't completely certain, but he didn't say anything, instead resting his skull on his knees while he tried to ignore the pain that was still wracking his body. He wanted so badly to tell Dream about Daybreak, about what Boss's plan was, to attempt to warn him, but he couldn't make his jaw move to say it. It was like his body refused to speak of what had happened. Even with Boss's threat, Ink still wanted to warn Dream about what was coming- about what was already being set in place, but he couldn't. Ink wondered if Boss had done something to his mind to keep him quiet- some form of block in him that prevented him from being able to warn Dream or anyone about what was coming, and that only made him feel worse. Dream seemed to mistake the emotions he was feeling, though, slowly and gently wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"ink, you won't hurt me, we both know that," Dream told him, "you don't have to keep worrying about it." It's not just me I'm worried about. I can't stop it from happening. I can't warn you that you're going to- "it's ok, ink. i promise, you're safe here, and so is everyone else. nothing bad will happen.... i overheard you telling knife that you were in pain? do you want me to heal you?..."

Ink shook his skull no, eyelights looking down at the floor of the cell, "n-no..."

"sci has some food with healing potion mixed into it. i know you don't eat, but-" Dream started, but Ink interrupted quietly/

"i've umm.... i've been eating, recently... eating and sleeping..." Ink wasn't going to go into detail on how he had had to sleep.

". . . oh, well that's a good thing?" Dream didn't seem sure of how to respond, "are you hungry?"

Ink paused, unsure, before nodding a little. He wasn't that hungry, getting his vials back seeming to help him with the constant hunger and exhaustion that had worn on him for weeks, but if the food had healing potion mixed into it, he wasn't going to refuse it. Ink saw Sci leaving from his peripherals, and he saw Knife on his phone, and then it started ringing and playing a ringtone.

'You're so upset with me, but I'm so obsessed with you!~ I'm ####ing crazy, I don't wanna damage you!~ But don't ####in' test me, my mental's unsteady-!~'

Knife answered, greeting, "hey murdy birdy, you get my texts?"

Some silence, which Ink spent contemplating how well Knife and Murder had started getting along, before Knife said, "yeah, he's at sci's lab, i texted you about most of it." Some silence, "oh i'm so sorry my grammar is poor. i can't believe i offended your high standards of spelling and punctuation, your royal highness of literature." A bit more silence, well, aside from Knife snickering, "alright, alright.... yeah, we can talk about it later, sheath wants to vent to you, which, weird but whatever.... yeah yeah, see you then, just making sure ink's doing alright first." Silence, and then Knife sighed before replying, "i'll have to tell ya later, alright?" Brief silence, "yeah, see ya."

Knife hung up, slipping his phone into his pocket again before starting to talk with Color, and Ink looked up at Dream in confusion before asking quietly, "wh-when did th-ey get s-so close?..."

"it's... i don't even know..." Dream admitted with a sigh, "i have a lot to catch you up on. i'm just relieved with the fact that i'll be able to now... i really missed you, ink.."

"e-even after our fight?..." Ink questioned hoarsely, having not forgotten about that yet.

"ink, the last thing i care about right now is that. we can work all of that out later, ok? i'm just relieved to have you back." Dream answered, squeezing his shoulder gently and reassuringly.

Ink really hoped what he'd been saying while Boss was in his head hadn't gotten to Dream, but he had a sinking suspicion that it had. He opened his mouth to apologize, but all that left him was a hoarse gasp and a croak before he started coughing, Dream patting his back, looking at him in concern. Ink held up a thumbs up to show him that he was alright, despite not feeling it, and he eventually was able to stop his hacking fit, just sitting against Dream's side, in mild agony and trying to focus on his breathing, which was hoarse and shaky. Sci eventually teleported in with some food- soup, to be specific, and Ink shakily accepted it with trembling hands and a nod of thanks before starting to eat. The liquid felt heavenly on his throat, which felt like it'd been burned by acid, and it was already to start feeling a bit better.

"how are you feeling, ink? any better?" Sci asked, and Ink nodded a bit.

"y-yeah, thank you..." Ink responded.

"of course. you won't be in here forever, just as long as you want to be. i locked you into this au to block you from teleporting out, just as a precaution until he's gone." Sci told him, "reality and millianna have been working on using the rift to send shattered back to his multiverse where reality can keep dealing with him."

Ink flinched a bit when Sci said Boss's name, but he tried disguising it as getting more comfortable against the wall.

"mi-illia-anna?..." Ink questioned, the name not familiar.

"she's an alphys i met a while back in the omega timeline. she comes over to visit sometimes when we aren't working on science projects, our current one being evicting... you know, from our multiverse." Sci described, and Ink nodded a little bit.

Ink just didn't want to be anywhere near Boss again; he would be perfectly fine just staying here forever if it meant Boss couldn't get to him... . . . Error was definitely going to rub it in his face how he was right he was about the whole 'brainwashed idiot' thing... Sci handed Ink a straw when Ink's hands got too shaky to use the spoon to scoop up the broth steadily, Ink giving him a thankful nod before starting to use it, drinking the liquid that was like honey against his throat right now.

Ink tried raking through his memories again on why his throat hurt so bad, and he was faintly able to remember throwing up black goo with an amber aura around it- which was likely Boss's magic that he'd had in him. Looking back further, he remembered seeing Dream firing one of his arrows at him, prompting the vomiting of his magic, and that... definitely explained why his throat hurt so much... Ink finished off the soup after a bit longer, Sci taking the empty bowl from him as he slowly relaxed, the healing potion easing most of the pain. As his tension slowly eased, the toll the day had taken on him, coupled with his already present exhaustion from earlier... Ink felt like he would pass out.

He still wasn't sure why he felt tired now, or why he felt hungry, or how to tell Dream and the others about this, but he did know it was getting harder to stay awake. He leaned further against Dream's side, eye sockets growing heavier as he tried forcing himself to stay awake. He couldn't sleep without Bo- ... wait, could he?... Ink wasn't completely sure, but he was sure he wouldn't be awake for much longer, quickly leaning all of his weight against Dream's side without meaning to, but not having the strength to pull away.

"are you ok?" Dream asked him, a concerned whisper, and Ink nodded a little.

"just tired..." Ink mumbled quietly, yawning a little.

"you can get some sleep, ink. i'll be right here with you." Dream told him, and Ink shrugged a little.

"you don't have to-"

"ink." Dream cut him off, sternly but gently, "i'm not going anywhere, ok? if not just for your sake, for mine? so that i can reassure myself that you're safe again?"

Ink was quiet for a moment before nodding, mumbling an "ok..." and burying his skull against Dream's armpit, eye sockets getting heavier by the moment.

"sci, can we get a blanket please?" Dream requested the skeleton outside of the cell, who nodded and headed to a closet.

Ink was mostly asleep before Sci teleported in with the blanket what had to be a few moments later, just vaguely aware of Dream putting the warm, fluffy and soft fabric over him before he slipped completely into unconsciousness.

Knife was leaning against the wall in Sci's lab, watching Ink curled up sleeping against Dream's side from inside of the containment chamber. Ink probably hadn't even noticed Top was sitting against the wall closest to Ink, watching him with a few tears in his eye sockets.

"I still wish we could be in there at the very least..." Aster muttered from near Knife, watching Ink sadly.

"yeah, but that wouldn't do him any good." Knife told him, "he's getting overwhelmed very easily right now, and he needs to handle this one step at a time. he might not have hurt you guys personally too much, but that doesn't mean it's easy for him to look you in the eye sockets after everything that bastard had him doing; it was difficult enough with dream, and you two are his adopted parents. he needs time to process what happened, forgive himself a bit so he can realize you don't hold anything against him."

"But we would never-" Top started, albeit quietly.

"i know, it's just the matter of trying to convince him that." Knife sighed.

'you did good.' Sheath told him, and Knife grumbled a bit under his breath.

'i had to. you saw the look on his face. none of these guys would've been able to handle it.' Knife responded, rolling his eyelight.

'yeah, but you chose to take initiative... so thank you...' Sheath thanked him.

'don't mention it..' Knife told him, '. . . seriously, don't.'

"DO YOU THINK INK WILL BE OK?..." Swap asked, and Knife sighed.

"i dunno. i mean the guy's understandably a wreck. he'll probably recover eventually, but right now... yeah he's got some damage..." Knife sighed, "color, think you can work your magic?"

Color laughed a little before shaking his skull no, "no, i think dream has it handled... you did good, too."

"damnit, not you too..." Knife grumbled, crossing his arms with a huff, and his phone chimed again from within his pocket.

Knife grabbed it, turning it on to see the emo Hello Kitty wallpaper on his lock-screen, creating the pattern to unlock the device before tapping on the messaging app, seeing Murder's text.

angrE brd How is he?

Knife took a moment to read the text and figure out how to type the response before replying.

You gud. dooing betR. wanna talc? i cant tiep gud.

Knife waited a moment before he finally got a response.

angrE brd no 💩. park?

Knife typed out his reply before pushing send.

You yea, worx. bench wair wE kissed? 😏

angrE brd why tf is that one of the only words you can type properly?

Knife narrowed his eye sockets, trying to figure out what Murder had said, but he couldn't read as well as you guys can.

You big wordz 😵‍💫, 🍑🕳️...

angrE brd 🖕

Knife snickered, and he shut his phone off and slipped it back in his pocket, "well, with that, i gotta go meet up with someone, so i'll catch you on the flip side."

"say hi to murder for me." Color told him, and Knife sighed, shoulders slumping.

"yeah yeah, i will..."

"wait, you know about it?" Sci questioned.

"how do you know about it?" Color responded, giving Knife a 'really?' look.

Knife just smirked in response, feigning innocence.

"WAIT, KNOW ABOUT WHAT?" Swap asked.

"knife and murder are a thing." Sci answered, Knife teleporting out of the AU with a snicker as he heard the hushed, shocked yelling start.

Knife appeared at a very familiar bench, Murder already sitting there, looking down at his phone before his eyelights flicked up to look at Knife.

"what the hell happened?" Murder asked, "how the hell did you get ink away from shattered?"

"i tricked him!" Knife chirped, and he plopped down on the bench next to Murder, "after i figured something out."

"and that was?..." Murder questioned.

"hey, this is kinda nice. most of the time you never want me to talk~" Knife snickered, and Murder glared at him.

"knife." Murder said lowly.

"fine, fine. i was thinking about it, and ink wouldn't just be obeying shattered to avoid pain; when you're emotionless all your senses are dulled; you don't care about being hurt at all, you just feel... empty. i was recoded by them to listen to them, or well, sheath was, but i exist because of that... anyways, i realized something similar must've happened to ink, and since he doesn't have code, i figured shattered probably went in there and had some fun rewiring him."

"damn..." Murder muttered with a grimace, "that... couldn't have been pleasant for him."

"yeah, it definitely wasn't. anyways, i had the conversation with dream in an au, knowing the negativity would get shattered's attention, and i brought up using the rift as a plan to send shattered back, which led to error taking us to it once he showed up." Knife explained.

"so you used it as bait..." Murder summarized.

"precisely!" Knife nodded. "which then led to ink attacking up, since i knew shattered would use him to snoop, and then i beat the crap out of him and got him restrained so dream could use an arrow on him, exorcising shattered's magic from him." Knife smirked, leaving out the detail of how Shattered had been able to see through Ink's eyelights.

"and then you got him his vials?" Murder asked.

"yeah, had him drink them while he was unconscious... when he woke up, he was... not the best." Knife admitted, "scared of hurting any of us, and i talked to him. also i blame you, you made me go soft." Knife glared.

"oh, and you not being a complete awful person has nothing to do with that?" Murder questioned, and Knife sighed, rolling his nonexistent eyelights.

"shut it... i already had to deal with color being proud of me in front of everyone.." Knife grumbled.

'it is something for him to be proud of. you've come a long way..' Sheath mentioned.

'oh great. you're back.' Knife thought flatly, earning an offended huff.

'can i have control now that you've gotten to brag to your boyfriend?' Sheath requested.

'i told you it was just for the lols! there's nothing going on, i told you that.' Knife thought back, slightly irritated.

'riiiiiiight. you weren't lying when you told me you thought he was ho-' Sheath started to respond, but Knife cut him off.

'don't even start! granted he's not the worst looking skeleton i've ever seen, i don't feel anything romantic towards him! it was just to amuse myself by making others speculate and ship, and murder used it as a way to piss off famine. we'll have a 'big dramatic fight' soon and that'll be that. no more prank.' Knife told him.

'. . . you just won't admit you're a simp.' Sheath snickered, and Knife was torn between cursing him out and laughing, having not expected him to say that, 'seriously though, can i have control?'

'. . . fine...' Knife relented, and he allowed Sheath to take control, Murder noticing relatively quickly.

"hey, sheath." Murder greeted, "you ok?"

". . ." Sheath was quiet, Knife feeling the anger in their shared mind, "i am going to kill shattered."

"yeah i figured as much." Murder sighed, "you know you can't, right? he's immortal."

"i will help kill him, and then desecrate his corpse." Sheath revised.

'geez, even i can never get you this upset~" Knife chuckled, and Sheath rolled his eyelight at him.

"how bad was he, knife didn't go into much detail-" Murder started to ask, but Sheath cut him off.

"he was awful!" Sheath exclaimed, "when i first saw him after he woke up, he was so terrified, so in pain... he wouldn't let anyone near him, and i could see on his face he was just waiting for something bad to happen, like shattered to show up. i... me and knife never saw him like that before..."

Sheath stood up from the bench, starting to pace, "and then i couldn't even handle looking at him! he reminded me so much of how i felt after they recoded me to kill everyone! how i'd get moments of clarity and realize what i was doing; who i was hurting. i... i couldn't even stop myself! they just puppetted me around, and the knowledge that ink had gone through that and was facing the brunt of everything at once, it was no wonder he was scared! he even thought everything was his own fault! can you believe it?!" Sheath turned to Murder, arms thrown out in exasperation.

"w-" Murder couldn't even get a word out before Sheath was ranting again.

"of course it wasn't his fault! he was being mind controlled! brainwashed! he couldn't even look his own parents in the eye out of shame! shame, murder!! like he was responsible for what shattered had him doing! shattered had him so messed up he blamed himself for all the deaths! the torturing! the words! it wasn't him! and yet he was so scared of hurting anyone in the same room as him! he wanted to be locked in the containment cell alone because he couldn't even trust himself!" Sheath paced even more, getting himself stressed out again.

"sheath-" Murder started, but Sheath kept going.

"and then, then! once knife talked to him and was actually really nice and gentle with him, which was actually the nicest i've seen him act besides with color or when you have really bad nightmares, and you two are in a relationship!" Sheath exclaimed.

"we are not-!" Murder began to correct.

"no!" Sheath cut him off, "anyways, yeah, nicest i've seen from that sociopath since i've known him, and i've known him for years! we went to therapy together!"

'talking to color is not therapy!' Knife snapped.

'it's therapy!' Sheath insisted, 'and murder got you hello kitty boots. deal with it.'

Knife didn't know how to respond to that, but Sheath didn't give him the chance before he was ranting again, "and then how he reacted with dream! he was so guilty! and it wasn't even his fault! shattered brainwashed him, and-!" Murder was right there as Sheath turned around, mid-pace, and Murder grabbed and held his shoulders.

"sheath, i know. stressing yourself out won't do you any good though, ok? we don't need you and knife going into three in the middle of a park. it was bad enough trying to calm you down last week."

'we agreed not to talk about that, you jerk!!' Knife thought at him.

"yeah, i know... it's just..." Sheath trailed off as Murder led him to sit on the bench again, "it was devastating.... i knew he'd be in a bad headspace, but that was so much worse than i thought it would be..."

"yeah, i know.." Murder sighed, releasing their shoulders, "i haven't even seen him yet and i can tell it's probably bad from what you two were saying."

"it was horri-!" Sheath started to exclaim.

'we know!' Knife snapped at him, and Sheath shut their mouth.

"sorry..." Sheath apologized.

"it's ok. you're upset." Murder reassured, "you, unlike knife, get upset."

"he does get upset sometimes, he just.... it takes a lot." Sheath tattled, "most of the time he feels my emotions, but... sometimes he does get feelings. i wasn't the only one upset... granted he was mad because ink said shattered had helped him like color helped us, but still."

"yikes..." Murder grimaced, and Sheath yawned, Murder yawning a moment later and asking, "you ok?"

"yeah, just tired... ranting took a lot out of me, i guess..." Sheath admitted, and Murder nodded a bit.

'can i have control back?' Knife questioned, not wanting to be bored out of his mind or have to try and keep sheath awake since he hated sleeping, especially in control of their body.

"sure..." Sheath mumbled, Knife taking control back as Sheath settled into a quietish corner of their mind, and Knife sighed.

"well that was something." Knife sighed, slumping against the back of the bench, looking over at Murder, "thanks for putting up with him."

"it was fine, knife. expressing emotions isn't a bad thing." Murder responded, rolling his eyelights.

"yeah, whatever..." Knife muttered, glancing over at him, "you slept recently?"

"ugh... like two days ago?" Murder estimated.

"hey, that's less time than me." Knife smirked, "nice."

"i'm only tired because of the stupid meds." Murder huffed.

"yeah, figures. you might wanna rest up, though. dream was talking about sending shattered back to his multiverse- that's still a plan. sci and an alphys are working out the details for it, but it involves the rift." Knife informed, "so you might wanna rest up."

"nah, i'll be fine." Murder responded, "so this means dream'll let me fight without me having to sneak to the au? nice."

"you mean me having to sneak you to the au?" Knife corrected with a smile, and Murder sighed before nodding.

"yes, that.." Murder sighed, "will you take me to sci's lab when you head back over?"

"yeah, i'll probably head back in the morning." Knife nodded, "sci thinks we're a thing, by the way. he told swap too."

"damnit..." Murder cursed, "we have to have that big fight soon."

"yeah, but i don't feel like plotting that out right now. tumblr?" Knife offered, knowing it was his secret weapon for getting murder to go to sleep.

"tumblr." Murder nodded.

"i mess up your algorithm yet with all the stuff i sent you?" Knife asked, and Murder sighed.

"it's all cat stuff, knife." Murder deadpanned, "i was an encyclopedia for starve's pet cat rock."

"i still wanna pet it." Knife mumbled, Murder having sent him several pictures of the white cat sleeping on Famine.

"i think famine would chop your hand off." Murder told him.

"awwww, worried about me?~" Knife smirked, and Murder rolled his eyelights.

"fine, get amputated, i don't care." Murder huffed, grabbing his phone from his pocket, turning it on and typing out the password.

"so cruel~" Knife snickered, settling in next to him to look down at his phone as he opened UnderTumblr and started scrolling.

"i will refuse to read memes to you." Murder threatened.

"shutting up now." Knife reassured, Murder smirking as he looked back down at his phone.

'. . . gayyyyy.' Sheath thought.

'shut the hell up, sheath!' Knife snapped as Sheath started wheezing in his mind.

Knife sighed, looking over Murder's shoulder as he scrolled through the homepage, and after a while, Knife pulled up his own phone to compare their feeds, Murder looking over his shoulder. Knife was in the middle of scrolling when he felt weight on his shoulder, and he smirked. He looked over, seeing Murder's skull resting on his shoulder, out cold, and Knife smirked victoriously. UnderTumblr and Clozapine, the dynamic duo on making Murder sleep.

"works like a charm..." Knife grinned, shutting his phone off and slipping it into his pocket.

He shifted on the bench, hooking one arm under Murder's knees and the other behind his shoulders, hand on his armpit. He stood up, lifting up Murder effortlessly, shifting him in his arms as he started walking back to Story's place with Murder held against his chest. He could teleport, yes, but that usually woke up Murder, he'd tried it before. So, he had to walk from the park to Story's house while everyone else in the Omega Timeline was sleeping. Knife's footsteps were silent, which helped to not wake up the annoyingly light sleeper, and he slowly made his way back. Sheath wasn't saying anything, so he probably passed out, which was a good thing because they showed up; a pitch black shadow of them with a gray smiley face, flushed cheeks, and a stripe across their chest.

'Well well well, it's been a while, huh, partner?' They smiled.

'what do you want?' Knife questioned mentally.

'Oh, not much. Just asking how long it'll take you to kill him, like you did everyone else you cared about that wasn't unkillable.' They smiled, and Knife narrowed his eye sockets.

'i don't care about him.' Knife stated.

'You do, in your own way. You just won't admit it to yourself.' They giggled, 'Oh, it is hilarious watching you deny you consider Murder a friend! You don't want to lose him, and now that Murder and Famine are on speaking terms again, you're worried that you will! Especially with the big fight planned!' They grinned at him, 'How pathetic are you?'

'not as pathetic as you.' Knife responded as they walked backwards in front of him, tightening his grip on Murder again.

'How am I pathetic? You killed me, who created you-'

'i never asked to be created.' Knife deadpanned, 'you took the liberties of doing that. your death was your own fault. i didn't feel like being your pawn anymore.'

'Cute. You think you're not.' They smiled, and they vanished, taking Murder's place in his arms, a knife through their chest, 'You never stopped, no matter what Color or Murder or Dream have told you.'

'get off of his face.' Knife hissed, and they vanished, leaving Murder with the knife through his ribcage blood exiting his mouth.

No no no no no no no no no NO. No. That was not real. Knife blinked quickly, grip tightening on Murder further. If Murder was dead, he would be dust. He wouldn't be here. This wasn't real. Knife tried to steady his shakier breathing which had started to speed up, and he shut his eye sockets, focusing on Murder's weight in his arms, grounding himself as their laughter grew louder. When he opened his eye sockets again, he looked at Murder, who was still sound asleep in his arms, no knife or blood.

'And you said you didn't care about him~' They laughed, 'How adorable!~'

'go rot in hell already. leave me alone.' Knife glared at them as he started walking again.

'Maybe you should try some of Murder's meds; see what those do, hmm?~' They smiled, and Knife bristled.

'no. i don't need some stupid pills to deal with you. i'll do that myself.' Knife responded.

'With what? The power of friendship?' They taunted, and he mentally flipped them off.

'just buzz off. i don't feel like dealing with you right now, or for sheath to wake up, see you, and panic. so go away.' Knife told them.

'Oh please! Now you're trying to convince me to leave you alone on behalf of that pathetic mess!' They burst out laughing.

'on behalf of myself so i don't have to deal with him having a panic attack!' Knife snapped, summoning several sharp bones out of the ground, stabbing through them, 'now leave. my friend is trying to sleep.'

They vanished in a puff of black smoke and shadows, and Knife scoffed before freezing, looking down at Murder as he moved around a bit in his arms. He didn't move much, skull just resting heavier against Knife's chest, his soul illuminating his sleeping face slightly, and Knife let himself smile a bit. Good. Still sleeping. Knife kept walking, no more disturbances from them, and he made it to Story's house after a bit more walking.

He teleported to the living room as carefully as he could, bracing himself as Murder stirred again, Knife staying perfectly still, watching him intently as he silently willed him to stay asleep. Thankfully Murder didn't wake up, and Knife made his way over to the couch, carefully setting him down on it. He slipped his arm out from under his knees easily enough, but his other one was more of an issue. Murder's arm had shifted to squeeze Knife's hand between it and his ribs, and Knife couldn't move his hand without waking up Murder, who would of course stay up for the rest of the night, unable to fall back asleep.

Knife sighed, knowing Murder would probably kill him in the morning as he settled down on the couch, there just enough room if Knife wanted to hang halfway off of the couch, which he put up with. Murder stayed asleep, pressed against his side and in his sleep, his arm went over Knife's ribcage, squeezing his hand further. Knife's jaw dropped slightly, looking around just to make sure no one else was seeing this while also to check if anyone else was seeing this OH MY GOD.

Knife planned on slipping away the moment Murder stopped squeezing his hand against his ribcage, not wanting to deal with Murder being all pissy because Knife was trying not to wake him up, even though in all fairness, Murder was the clingy sleeper here, that wasn't Knife's fault. So he sighed quietly, grabbing his phone from his pocket again and scrolling through it, but eventually his thumb grew sluggish, and Knife vaguely registered his phone thumping against his chest as his eye sockets slid closed.

Murder was going to kill him. Especially if anyone found them/got pictures. Murder might actually die of embarrassment first, so maybe Knife had a chance at surviving this... Maybe.

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