{DS Dream x DS Ink} | Dreamswap Fanfic

| chapter 2 |

DREAM'S POV

   As I start to walk back to my office, I can't help but worry. Ink really doesn't seem fine. His negative aura is only getting worse, and I don't think that therapist is helping at all.

   I really do care about Ink; I met him when his AU collapsed and I saved him personally. He was the only survivor, that we know of. Ink is incredibly vulgar with his use of language, and usually blunt, but it all hides a deep poetic side to him.

   Ink really enjoys drawing dark, horrific concepts, but he also does some really interesting art on the side. He also writes poetry. He doesn't know that I read it, but he posts it online on a website that only JR uses. Ink is really incredible, I wish he could see himself the way others see him.

   I've been able to conclude that he suffers from severe derealization, depression, and social anxiety. He still hasn't made any friends here, although he has a decent amount of followers on that application. He's really bad at talking to people, so generally I just help him by talking for him.

   Avoiding people at all costs may help him with the social anxiety, but it doesn't help his other issues at all. Being alone isn't good for him, so I try to check in whenever I'm free. He pretends he hates having me around, but his aura lights up whenever I knock and ask to talk. I'm glad I can be someone to talk to, but he still needs other people. Being alone for so long has made him horribly depressed, he stays in his room all day and sleeps. He hasn't actually written or drawn anything in maybe a week.

   His bad mental health is starting to affect his physical health as well: he refuses to eat, drink water, and do generally anything except sleep. I worry for him.

   As for derealization...he zones out a lot, has described to me that he has maladaptive daydreams all the time, and is generally unhappy in this multiverse. He'd rather be anywhere else, which is what triggers derealization. I worry for him a lot.

   Thinking about Ink had me feeling down, and I didn't even realize I wasn't doing the paperwork I had to at all. As I started writing down with my quill pen, I hear a knock on the door.

   I sigh heavily. I know who it is.

   Oh no.