The Gift

"ķ𝐢𝕂𝐢! ι'爪 𝓱σ爪Ｅ!(Kiki! I'm home!)"

Ink didn't raise his skull and kept sketching, the pencil pausing for a second with a tremble before going back to scratching the paper. He just wanted to draw, didn't want to go downstairs, he just wanted to stay in his (their) room and avoid Error as much as possible.

The artist thought he was making progress with Error: the Destroyer now seemed less vicious while fighting, they sometimes met outside of battle in Outertale to stargaze, Error had started smiling at him when they saw each other, Ink was confident he would stop hurting people soon if Ink could just make him see that they didn't have to fight!

He was right, sort of.

Now Error only hurt Ink.
Not on purpose, no, the glitch was fully convinced that what he was doing was perfect for the two of them, that it was a dream come true, but...

Well, the fact remained that Error had kidnapped him and was keeping inside the Antivoid for weeks now.

Ink still remembered the terror, the horror when he had fallen asleep at home, in the Doodlesphere, and then woken up in what he thought was his bedroom, but was actually a perfect replica, besides one small detail: Error himself being there, at the foot of his bed, watching him with an expression that he would probably describe as tender but that Ink only saw as obsessive.

Now he was just numb.

It was impossible to escape, Error had chosen his prison all too well: his replicated bedroom (his replicated house, really, painstakingly built by Error during the course of months, as the glitch himself had bashfully explained) was located in the middle of the Antivoid, away from Error's usual dwelling, with only white and emptiness and nothing all around.

It made Ink anxious just thinking about escaping. With Broomie hidden away and his vials kept under lock and key, there was nowhere to run.

Ink had tried only once, wanting to find his brush and escape through a portal, and Error had simply watched him run outside, following him at a leisure pace until the nothingness finally became too much and Ink collapsed in the midst of a panic attack; Error had then chided him for his "silly tantrum" before enveloping his wrist with his string (to which Ink had ashamedly clung to in his fear), and pulled him back inside.

Being confrontational would bring forth a similar treatment, Error would look all hurt and disappointed and walk outside, knowing that Ink wouldn't follow and forcing him to be alone for hours on end, until the Protector was starved for any positive interaction, even if it came from his captor.

Ink was so tired now.

He did whatever Error wanted, but he felt so drained and empty; Error had noticed too, but Ink really wasn't doing it on purpose, he really was just too exhausted to react anymore than the bare minimum.

"ķ𝐢𝕂𝐢?(Kiki?)"
Ink felt a single finger gently caressing his cheek, and suppressed a shiver.
"Hi Ruru..." he whispered, still not raising his skull from his sketchbook.

"ᗝ𝓱 ķ𝐢𝕂𝐢, ＡяＥ 𝕪σ𝕌 şt𝐢𝔩𝔩 ⓕＥＥ𝔩𝐢ŇＧ 𝓭σⓌŇ?(Oh Kiki, are you still feeling down?)" the Destroyer cooed, gently circling Ink's skull with his strings, so that he could forcefully raise it and make him look at him "ι 𝓬ＡŇ't şＥＥ 𝕪σ𝕌 𝔩𝐢𝕂Ｅ t𝓱𝐢ş ＡŇ𝕪爪σяＥ, 𝓭σ𝔩𝔩.(I can't see you like this anymore, doll.)"

Ink so desperately wanted to shout "THEN LET ME LEAVE!", but the only thing that came out was an inaudible sigh as his gaze drifted back down to his lap.

"t𝓱Ａt'ş Ⓦ𝓱𝕪 ι Ｇσt 𝕪σ𝕌 Ａ Ｇ𝐢ⓕt.(That's why I got you a gift.)"
Error's strings freed Ink's skull, and the Destroyer started blushing blue and smiling shyly, as he always looked whenever he did anything remotely "romantic" for Ink (like when they had had a candlelight dinner, or when Error had gifted him back all the things he had stolen from his house, things that Ink had thought he had lost).