Paint Is Meant To Fade

Chapter 16: All's Well that Ends Well

Geno's POV
      The long awaited birth. They sat, patiently in the lobby. Reaper clasping his hand tightly.
      "Did they say anything?" Fell asked, peering over to Geno, who sat two seats away. He shook his head, still nervous.
      Geno's thoughts wandered back to what he was most concerned about.
      Error.
      He had gone into the process hours and hours ago. It was dragging on, and Geno wasn't sure if he could handle it any longer.
      A small bird-like human scuttled up to them. She had a thicket of milky brown hair that fell in long loops in some sort of halo around her head. In her small, dainty hands was a mask as white as flour. It reminded Geno of someone, but he wasn't quite sure who.
      The charming red bow tie done up against the silky smooth button up almost, almost, put a smile on his lipless lips.
      "U-um. Hello! I'm a hospital aid, and I was asked to tell you. Y-you are Geno Apries. Error's older brother, yes?"
      Geno froze, thinking of what the girl had just said. It clicked, and before he could respond, Reaper spoke.
      "Ah yes. He is, miss... Aaliyah?"
      She nodded vigorously.
      "One of the nurses sent me down to alert you that the child has... Arrived."

Ink's POV
      It was here. He was here. Fell and Error's child was... Here. He had small glitches around his eggplant colored skull. The number 417, much like the room number, sporadically pranced through time. His small fingers were balled into fists, and cried into the doctor's chest. She handed him to Ink. He was so small. The child was adorable. Big, wonky eyes opened up, and those big and glossy eye sockets, were his father's eyes. Error's eyes. He had this bizarre digital workings imprinted against his bones. The child couldn't help but let out a small giggle. His teeth was this lovely shade of violet, and pointed teeth. The tears continued spilling, but it wasn't intentional, he could tell.
      Ink smiled and turned to Error, who's chest was rising and falling from such effort and hard work.
      "Here," he said, holding the child out to the glitch. Error turned to him, smiled, and accepted the creation into his arms. He pulled at Error's gown with the tiniest hands, still crying.
      Fresh at this point had come to be peering over Ink's shoulder. The door was slammed on by more than one fist. The forever nervous nurse practically flew at the opportune moment to distract himself.
      "Ye-" Geno shoved past him. He bolted over to Error's other side, and glanced up at Ink, before letting his gaze fall to the small child in the glitch's arms.
      "Why hello there! Aren't you smol." Geno cooed, resting his elbows on the bed. Error stared at him, grimacing.
      Quickly following suit, Reaper and... Fell. Ink quickly moved to block the Sans from the bed.
      "Get out." His voice came out in a growl. Fell stared, empty and... It appeared to be that he was saddened. Ink didn't care in the slightest. Although... A small seed of guilt began to germinate.
      "I... I'm sorry. But I-" Fell moved his gaze to Error and his-their son.
      "No."
      Fell nodded. He looked down at his boots, ashamed. The UnderFell Sans turned, and left the room.
      It felt as if the entire room was holding it's breath, awaiting Ink's attack on Fell, or for Fell to do something horrible. And now, they let themselves catch their breath. Taking in a sigh of relief.
      Ink turned his head, to see Error almost ready to cry, and the child, slowly nodding off. He took a step towards them. Then another, and soon he was gripping Error's free hand tightly, and pulling him into a heartfelt embrace.
      "I-InK. InK I Lo-" the child hiccuped, and started glitching wildly, before folding in and bursting into tears. He had an angered expression on his face.
      They turned to him. Realization dawned on them.
      "Error. What do you want to name your child?" Geno asked, skull quirked. Error froze for a brief moment, then looked down. His eyes were misted. As if in a haze of some sort.
      "I... I nEvER waS gOOd aT nAMeS." Ink held his hand just a bitty bit tighter.
      Error rocked the child, and their face softened, no longer that furious flame from before. Nor was is it that excitable bubble of joy. It was more... A calm negativity.
      "He iS To bE... FoUR. OnE. SeVEn. He HaS NOt mEt mY... ExPEctATIon," he whispered.
      This child was a mistake. Ink knew Error didn't mean, that this child, 417, wasn't what Error loved, but it was not how he wanted to have his first child. The living being. The creation that brings pure and unconditional love to his soul. And it was wasted with Fell.
      The air wasn't really quite as thick as it was at that moment. So many voices that could speak. Sympathize with Error. Coddle him with petty lies about how Fell would be forgotten. How once 417 grew older, Error would realize he was nothing like his father.

But not a word was whispered.

      That is, until another doctor, and her charming aid walked in.
      "Dr. Lafayette. You are excused. I can take it from here." She had a smooth smile on her lips, and wild blonde hair. It was cut just short of her neck, and at the end of one of her curls was a sweet silver bell. Skin almost blanched, a constellation of the Little Dipper was laid out to the left side of her lower cheek. A scar was presented proudly against her chin, and against such fair flesh, she seemed like a white rose separated from its branch. Both pale, with that slight bit of golden death along the flower's rim. Her apparel was, Ink noticed, covered in glitter. Certainly not head to toe, but along her off-white coat, there were small spats of rainbow sparkles. And then, Inks gaze traveled to her more than less uniform attire. She tipped her head at Ink, and practically marched past.
      "So tell me, Error. How're you feeling?"
      He could only stare at her like she was crazy. And so she turned to Fresh.
      "How's it been going?"
      Fresh looked at her curiously. "You're asking me?"
      The doctor sighed melodramatically. "Yes, I'm asking you. Is it so incomprehensible that an ordinary person is asking how someone's day has been? Just answer the question." Fresh glanced at Error, who shrugged.
      "Well..."

Fresh's POV
      "Well..." Then he knew. He knew exactly why this doctor was just asking how they were.
      Dream must've convinced her to help last minute. No wonder. But she'd given the signal she knew. And now that he looked more closely, so did the aid. They both knew.
      "I'm... Feeling like this was very stressful. So thank the stars it's over." He winked. "Mah broski," she laughed, and elbowed the aid playfully.
      "See? It is cool!" The aid, or as her name tag read, Aaliyah, rolled her eyes. These two were quite interesting, he thought.
      "Right, right. Paperwork. Fun." The doctor said, huffing a little. She turned to Aaliyah.
      "Mah broski bell daughter da doll, could'a be so kind as to gimme that clipboard a right over rollin?" Fresh couldn't help, but smirk. Aaliyah forced a smile and passed her the item of attention, mumbling a little.
      "Yes, mom," she responded. The doctor smiled, and looked down at the clipboard in disgust.
      "Em.. This is just the birth certificate. I'll... Give you all some time to figure it out. We've already written down time of birth, gender, weight, and height. Just need his name, parent's name, parental information, etcetera. Okay?" Error nodded, and looked down at 417.

Error's POV
      He hadn't listened to a word she said. All his senses were on his son. The child clinging so tightly to him. Error realized he'd have to feed him milk substitute. Was the room ready for 417? But he didn't want to crush the child if they were to sleep in the same bed. Perhaps Ink and himself would be able to construct a crib. Or simplest yet, he could just ask Ink to paint one into existence. That worked, didn't it?
      Ink crouched down beside him, a pen spinning at his fingertips.
      "You want me to fill it in for you?" he asked, glancing down at the newborn. Error smiled in a silent thanks.
      In the back of his mind, Error prayed, that Ink would fill out his own name for the father. He didn't want his child growing up with the kind of knowledge that he was a mistake. That his father made a mistake.

why is there no bold or italics after the first POV you ask? tec