The Stage is Set

What a painful, playful start pt.5

Play Date - Melanie MartinezI'm not dead! It's taken some time cause not only was I working, but then moving back up to college, fighting cement and winning, etc. etc. This semester is already kicking my ass and we're only two-three weeks in. smh. Anyways! I've got a LONGER chapter to make up for it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They wipe at their eyes as Cross sits down next to them. They put their hands in their lap, and Cross can take in what they look like. He can't see much from the glow they give off, it just looks like a skeleton with fluid-like hair that floats around its skull. He leans over to watch their tears fall into the paint that soaks his legs. He watches as the light fades into nothing in the paint. He looks at Ink's face to study it. To learn the face his brother once had.

"Ink?" Cross's voice fills the silence. He flinches, now realizing just how quiet the others have become.

The figure doesn't look at him, just curling into themselves as another pair of footsteps ring out from behind the two of them. The sound of a door closing makes everyone look behind them. Who is it? Reaper takes a step closer, the pieces slowly falling into place. The footsteps stop right behind the figure and Cross. Cross looks at the shoes of the person with confusion. They look like Dream's shoes, if made of paint, and the figure glances at Ink before leaning against Cross. Cross pauses, the touch from the figure allows him to see what they see. To see it all in color. He felt himself shudder as he felt his hand touch the soul fragment. He only meant to rest his hand against Ink's shoulder.

Cross turns to see a version of Dream standing there on Ink's porch. Ink sits against a support beam, and Cross sits beside him and the small fence around Ink's porch. Dream reaches out for Ink, but Ink sighs and moves away from the touch.

Dream sighs tiredly. It's like they've done this song and dance before. He sits close to Ink, "You called me through the Starline... You sounded far away again." Dream sneaks a glance at his friend before pulling out a cigarette. He twirls it in his fingers before tapping it against his jaw. "Did something happen this time?"

Ink nods, wiping his sockets again, Dream catches sight of the discolored bone. Dream perks up in shock, never has it ever gotten this bad. Cross covers his mouth as he realizes what it means. Someone did enough damage to Ink that he's had to repaint his socket. That always takes a few days to heal afterward. Dream looks away with a scowl and Cross wonders what this version of Dream knows.

"I asked him to come down. I had some things I wanted to talk through. I just..." Ink's voice warbles as his eye pips dilate and blur with fresh tears. A laugh is startled out of him as he tries to make excuses, "You know?" He looks away and gathers his thoughts, "You know me..." His expression is as if he was told the multiverse was destroyed. His voice is quiet, as shaky as he is, "I'm not good with kids." He looks back at Dream with a weak smile. "It's not his fault. My bones are very brittle." His hand moves to the socket as he looks away, "My paint is stretched, too little with too much to make." He knocks on his temple, "brittle."

Dream scoots closer to him, almost leaning on Ink, with a scoff. He twirls his cigarette again before placing it between his teeth. A way to stop him from grinding them. "It doesn't mean he gets away with throwing things at you, Ink." He rests a hand on Ink's leg. "He's not four, He knows better than that."

Ink sighs as he covers his face, "He's a traumatized kid not even in his double digits." He leans before collapsing against the floor, "Both of them are, Dream. I should've known they weren't gonna handle this situation well."

***

"Him?" Cross's voice is quiet, heard by the others but not by the two he sits with.

"It's like they're having two different conversations." Killer's voice is soft as Lust nods along.