The artificial light

Chap 8

"Stop!" Ink begged.

Dream pinned him down and forced the Golden vial down his throat. Ink's tears became golden as he had no choice but to drink. 

Ink's pleading became incoherent as his bones flooded with the positivity.  Dream wiped the irrelevant tears away and laid Ink on the bed. He had a black box, with a golden latch.

Inside laid a collar like Fells, but Ink wouldn't know the more sinster motive behind it until later. Unlike Fells, it was a golden colour. This would simply show that Ink is now Dreams property.  Nothing more.  Yet. It...  just got a whole lot more complicated.

Dream got off of Ink and he stood up. The door was never closed from the struggle, so Ink darted right to it. Surprisingly, Dream didnt follow, giving Ink hope.

Once at the doorframe, a new type of sensation lit up his bones. It was a sharp, painful, light kind. Like... electricity. 

Once Ink stopped shaking he looked back, out of breath to Dream. He just stood there, emotionless.

"It's just to ensure you stay with me."

Ink looked betrayed. Well, he was already quite betrayed, given the whole kidnapping and basically drugging thing, but this?? This was insane.  No, actually a lot of it was insane. Why was this specific act breaking Ink?

"Come back down or I'll have to shock you again." He said genlty, like he wasn't being threatening.

Ink slowly made his way back, delaying as much as he could. One foot infront of the other down the stairs. Until it hit him. The sugre. He has been drugged so much that the positivity effects are delayed. 

Switch

He ran back and hugged his best friend. It was such a hard day and now he has Dream to look out for him. He wanted to unload all of lifes problems, all his worries, out of him and into the world so he could be carefree.

Thats what Dreams plan was, afterall. Making a little nest down here in order to make Ink comfortable and forget about the outside world. Sure it was infantilizing, but was okay since Ink was happy. Right?

Ink looked down at his collar and giggled.  Just another measure Dream was doing to keep him safe. He loved it. Dream smiled down at him and put him in the play area.

The area in question had blocks, crayons and paper and finally sensory objects like sand or water timers. Dream had gone through a huge box of items in order to find what Ink would have liked. From puzzles to crayons to trucks that made too much sound for anyones liking. Sure, they may be kid toys, but when you're beyond happy you act like a kid. At least thats what Dream has seen. Or maybe Ink's just a big baby. Maybe both. 

Dream sat in his rocking chair, pulling out the knitting Error taught him. Error knew the loss of Ink would had hit Dream the hardest, so he taught Dream his biggest coping skill: knitting. It helped him with his overcome waves of positivity. They're easy to get used to, but its still like a small shove.

Ink played with water timers, fascinated by all the colours as Dream practiced his stockinette stitch.  Purl one, knit one. Wave. Purl one, knit one. Wave.

It went on like this for hours. Dream felt a little bad, as it's hard on the body having that much positive emotions pumping through you, but it was for Inks better intrest. He would soak Ink in a bath later to help his aching bones.

And so they sat.

Tip the timer for orange, knit, purl, wave.

Tip for timer for green, knit, purl, wave.

Tip the timer for orange, knit, purl, wave.

Tip the timer for green...