Loyal Servant (Crossmare) (Rewrite)

You Can't Always Win

A/N
Error just won what was essentially the background character popularity poll, so here he gets first POV this chapter, though expect it to bounce everywhere.

(Note: If you cry or are left in shambles, I apologize. Just survive the chapter.) Also it's like 5000 words, and some of those are gonna be typos.

...

The strings Error pulled from his eyes were laced with blood. His blood, as it had trickled into his sockets from the fracture which stretched across his skull. He felt a tad dizzy, dazed by his fight with Fatal.

He hated the thought of hiding, but he really had little choice but to shield himself behind a wall of bones at the moment. He needed to gauge just how bad the damage was. Being bested by a single person like that... It embarrassed him. I'm supposed to be the most destructive of the gods, not Fatal.

When he traced his finger over the bleeding cracks, he ended up wincing with pain. He examined the hand and he found it already soaked with blood. Fatal had done some pretty severe damage to his skull. "Damn it," He cursed, lightly punching the ground he knelt on.

"That bad, huh?" A familiar voice called as another skeleton joined him behind his wall of bones. Error turned towards Paperjam with a growl, attempting to stand back up. His efforts were in vain, as he ended up slumped against the wall only a few soulbeats later. Paperjam stepped closer despite his obvious hostility. They reached a hand out towards him. "Now you're just hurting yourself. Let me-"

"Go away," Error tried to snap, but his voice came out unexpectedly weak. He managed to push Paperjam's hand back. "I don't need help. Not from you, or anyone," He insisted, sliding back down to the anti-void's floor. He leaned his skull back against the wall, closing his eyes. "I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."

"Right," Paperjam replied, though they didn't back down. They just walked right over and crouched down at his side. They drew a small paint brush and tapped Error's forehead with it. He opened his eyes to give them a glare, but paused upon seeing the serious stare they bore. "Listen, I've tried the whole 'taking care of myself' thing... and it doesn't work," They told him, moving to sit more comfortably at his side. "So for once in your life, just let me in."

Let you in? Error stared at Paperjam, and found himself reliving a lifetime of emotions. Paperjam didn't say another world, taking that small paintbrush and running it along the cracks of his skull. He'd seen Ink do this with others before. They were using magic-laced paint to seal his wounds. Error swallowed. Fatal must have hit his head really hard, for he dared to speak words he never thought he'd say aloud. "I couldn't raise you, PJ. I couldn't bring myself to do it, and I don't think you've ever known why," He whispered, looking away.

Paperjam clicked their tongue. "Oh, I know why," They muttered, half focused on dealing with the fracture. The pressure of their strokes deepened, perhaps due to frustration. "It's because I'm just soooo much like Ink. Which is funny, because he seems to think I'm just like you," They told him, sounding annoyed. Sounding like me.

"He's right," Error admitted, causing Paperjam's movements to freeze up. "You are like me," He agreed.

"But, then... Then why?" Paperjam questioned, shuffling back so they could look him in the eye. Their pinpricks had turned more blue and red than Error had ever seen them. "Why did you never try? Why did you abandon me? Why did you refuse to care in the slightest?" They asked all their questions, hands forming into tight fists. "You never did anything for me-"

"And that's where you're wrong, kid," Error spoke over them, voice stronger than before. Paperjam just looked to be at a loss, staring at Error with the most helpless expression. "I left. That's what I did for you, PJ. That was the only thing I could do for you," He told them. He lifted his hands, flashing the talon-like fingertips. "Maybe I wanted to do the best that I could, but what was I to do? These hands were built for destruction. My broken code has left me cruel, and muddled, and selfish. I've always known that," He said with a growl. He was a little surprised to see tears lined Paperjam's sockets. "It was for your own good. I had to keep you away."