The Stage is Set

A psycho plays with you as I die pt.5

A slight interludePOWER - Ethan Ganderplay this as I die - Ethan Gander

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Error watches in horror as Swap gets close again to Creation. He's terrified. Every fiber, every line of code screams at him to run away from this creation. There is no hope in this situation. He wants to move, finding self-hate in how his body will not move to help one of his friends. If Creation can't stand up to him; how could they fight against him and win? What will Swap do to them? Why aren't they letting them help? Error grips onto Nightmare's hand before trying to find another way out of the dome Ink's put up.

Killer moves to shield Cross's vision from what is happening. He would never want Ink's younger brother to see what is happening to a part of him. Nothing like this. Killer grips his knives tightly as he looks away as well. He's upset that he can't do anything to help. Oh, how he wishes he could swoop in to save Creation or give all his stamina and energy to Blue to get out of there. This situation keeps going from bad to worse.

Cross dives down to the ink, clutching at his skull. His tears run into the ink as he tries to stop his tears. This isn't the worst thing to happen to him, and yet, it hurts more than anything. He wishes he could block out what Swap is saying. What he's doing. Stars, Creation sounds so much like his brother. Those weak and tearful cries to let them go. To stop. Asking what he's doing. He hates this. He hates this so much. He hates Swap. He hates his brother for keeping him in this bubble. He hates that he can't help. His vision blurs out completely as his tears rain down. He bites back a whimper. He just wants to go home. He wants his brothers. He wants to be on their couch, watching bad B-list movies. He wants to sit on the floor in the kitchen as Ink hands him a cup of coffee and a fresh muffin. He wants to feel Epic hugging him tightly as they both scream watching an analog horror thing. He can't take this. Everything here has been fucked up since the moment they were taken away from the DoodleSphere.

Cross hunches over, praying that the fluff of his jacket hood will block out everything. He flinches when a cold, wet hand presses against his face. The thumb of the small hand brushes some of his tears away. He opens his sockets–when did he close them?–to see a partly solidified arm coming from the ink. Cross quickly and gently grips Ink's wrist. He needs comfort, and Ink's always known what he needs. He wants to cry, such a simple gesture would've had him arguing that he's no longer a little kid.

Not now.

He listens to how the ink gurgles and he wants to cry harder. He leans into the hand. "I know. It's not my fault." The ink gurgles again and he nods slowly. "I get it. It really fucking sucks that I get it." He uses his other hand to wipe the tears away from his other socket as Ink's thumb brushes against his face again. Cross chuckles, "I think you're just wiping extra ink on my face rather than helping." The ink bubbles in mock offense and Cross lets his face soften. "I don't mind," he grips Ink's wrist again, "It tells me that you're still here. Within my reach."

The ink stops. Ink's hand stills before starting to melt between Cross's fingers. Cross pauses, staring in confusion as Ink's hand pulls away. His hand is pulling away as his fingers claw at Cross's hand, not wanting to let go just yet. His face falls into horror as he watches Ink struggle to stay solid enough to hold onto him. Ink's hand reaches out for Cross's hand, and Cross holds it as tightly as he dares; not willing to let his brother go again.

Cross feels tears sting his face again. "Ink, no. Don't you dare leave me-" The floor bubbles slower, apologetically. "Ink, please. Just hold onto me. Okay? I-I'll get you out of here. I promise."

Ink's hand grips his as tightly as he can before spasming. Cross can almost hear the whimper of pain from Ink. It sends fear through his body, his brother has never been that loud when it comes to pain. Not this vulnerable. Cross can almost hear Ink's voice whisper to him. Reedy, and strained to be heard. Cross didn't know that heartbreak had a sound. A sound that sounds so much like his brother. He watches in despair as his brother's hand melts back into the ink from his hand. Leaving a dark stand covering it.

"Cross..." Killer's voice is tight with disbelief and horror.

Cross looks up at him, "Hm?"

Killer shakes his head in disbelief as he stares out of the dome. "Swap did it." Cross sits up in panic, struggling to turn around as fast as he can. "Creation... They fell."