Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the sun began to fade into the horizon, a chemistry teacher, Mr. James, annoyedly picked up a busted chemistry set while talking on the phone.
"Ugh, I swear, this is the worst batch of kids I've ever had to deal with! It's like all of them are deaf! You tell them to be careful! You tell them not to rough house or horseplay, but noo! This was expensive too!"
He huffed, as he dumped it all into a large industrial trash can.

"I meeeean, doesn't that, like, come with the territory, tho?"

"Er, YEAH, but it's not usually THIS bad! It's not like the school's going to replace this either. So, now I have to take money out of MY own pocket to!"

"I mean, they can't be THAT expensive, right?"

"Eh, two-fifty- but still! I don’t exactly work in a high paying profession, you know? I could be spending that money on something useful! Like a... Walter White Funko Pop or something!"

"Oh shit! Sorry man I'm getting another call, but I'll call back when I'm done! Oh, oh, and don't forget! Better Call Saul at my place tonight! Oke bye!!!!" and with that, Hashley hung up the phone before James could respond. He lightly chuckled at how abruptly the call ended; most conversations with Hashley ended like that. He walked towards the door, giving a relieved sigh at the prospect of finally getting off work. He thoughtlessly stepped out the door, expecting his foot to hit the floor- like always. But it did not. Instead, it fell through. Before he could even process what was happening, it was far too late. He was gone in an instant. His fate was sealed.
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James's eyes opened to the sight of large fluorescent lights hanging over him. He sat up and readjusted his visor in confusion.

'I'm in a....storage facility? Or at Least what looks like one?'

He quickly stood up as he felt how soggy the carpet beneath him was.
"Ewww." He muttered, it had gotten his clothes all wet and sticky. He looked around the room confused. It was all the same ugly mono-yellow color and the lights buzzed at a constant irritating rate that made him want to cover his ears.

'Where the hell am I? This isn't part of the school. How did I even get here? I was...just walking out of my classroom, now I'm....wherever this is.'

There didn't seem to be any immediate exits, no doors, no windows, no fire escapes, no nothing.

"HELLOOO? ANYONE OUT THERE!? IF THIS IS SOME KIND OF A PRANK, IT'S NOT FUNNY! WHATEVER'S GOING ON RIGHT NOW IT IS NOT FUNNY!"

His voice rang through the halls, but there was no answer.
"HELLOO?"
"Anyone…?"
Nothing.
"Err...FINE! IF NO ONE’S GONNA COME OUT AND SAY ANYTHING THEN I'LL JUST FINE AN EXIT BY MYSELF!"

He shouted at nothing, as he crossed his arms and began searching.

'Some kind of exit has to be nearby, right?'
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He fell to the ground, exhausted, barely able to move his legs any further. He gave up.

“Verdammter…”

'How long has it been? I feel like I've been walking around in circles for hours. How big is this fucking building anyways? How did I even get here? I was just walking out of the class, and then, poof, I was just here all of a sudden! This place doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel real.’

"B-itte...jemand...."
"Bitte hilf mir."

He hated the floor's texture; the way it made his skin crawl made him sick. Its smell didn't help either. The way it soaked through his clothes to his skin made him want to vomit but he couldn't walk any longer. His breath hitched, and his visor displayed tears coming from his faux eyes. His head buzzed, he could feel himself about to bluescreen.

'No! No! No! Keep it together! I have to stay awake! I have to get out of here! I can't just give up! I have to keep going! I have to!'

"Hello? Is, uh- is somebody there?"

His head shot up, and looked around for whoever had called out to him. He saw a man wearing a brown cadet cap, with a brown coat, black and white sleeves, black gloves, and a pair of big black boots, turn a corner and face him.

"JA! Gott sei Dank! "Ich bin nicht der Einzige hier!"

The man approached.
"uhm."
"Verzeihen Sie, m..mein Herr, mein Deutsch ist etwas eingerostet, daher könnte es... sein, d-dass ich ein wenig Schwierigkeiten bei der Konversation ha-“

"Oh, no, I-I speak English! Y-You- You just surprised me. Say, you wouldn't happened to know where the exit is, would you?"

His somewhat calm expression quickly shifted to a painfully knowing stare.

"Oh dear."
"you must be...new."

"Huh? W-What do you mean 'new'?"

The man sighed deeply before answering.
"Ok, sooo, I know what I'm about to say is going to sound... ridiculous, but please, please bear with me?"
He gave a confused look as he nodded, letting the man continue.
"You aren't in your own reality anymore. You're now in a place known as "The Backrooms," ok? It's a sort of, out of bounds area of reality that people just fall into sometimes, and you happen to be one of those many unlucky individuals."

He was trying his best to let him down as easily as possible, sparing as many details as he could of the sheer gravity of the situation. James just stared back at him like he was speaking complete and utter nonsense.

"Oh great, now that's just lovely. I'm stuck here with a crazy person. just my luck."

"Hey! I'm being serious right now! I understand it's pretty outlandish and you'll need time to cope and come to terms with all this, but there's a colony a little ways from here with plenty of people who could help you with that. So, if you could just come along with me for now, that'd be great."

He gave a nervous forced smile as he held his hand out to James.

"Well, I can't because my legs are practically broken! Ok? So you can go and find someone else to bother."

"Ugh, they really need to start paying me in more than Almond Water for this."
He murmured as he reached into one of his many pockets, pulling out a canister of liquid that read "Almond Water."

"Here, drink this."

"And what? Is that supposed to magically heal my legs or something?"

"Yeah, actually it is."

"Give me one good reason why I should believe anything you're saying right now? How do I know if that "Almond Water" or whatever isn't poisoned or drugged or something

"Ugh, and for what reason do you assume I'd do any of those things?"

"Because, you're a mysterious man that appeared out of nowhere, in a place I've never been before, and your talking to me about alternate dimensions and magical healing water like it's normal, ok, so, yeah actually, I-I think I have every right to be suspicious of you, Mr...Mr whatever your name is!"

"What would even be the point of killing or drugging you?"

"I-I-I don't know, like, selling my organs on the black market or something. You have got all those pockets, what's in them, organs?"

"Sir, that is incredibly absurd, please just drink it already so we can get this over with."

"Over with? What's that supposed to mean, huh?"

"Oh, for fu... y'know what? If I can prove to you that this is safe to drink, will you drink it?"

"Yes!"

The man sighed before taking a sip.
"Seee? It's fine."

"Hmm.."
James began to weigh his opinions, still fully convinced that this man was completely out of his mind."

'There's nobody around here for miles, I know that much. This really is my only chance. Best case scenario, It's just flavored water and I just have to wait until my legs get better.'

He reached his hand out slowly, before taking the can from the man. He gulped as he stared down the canister, praying he'd get out of this alive, before taking a sip. Unsurprisingly enough, it tasted like almond, bitter, salty water. It wasn't very good to say the least. He was about to make some snide comment about the inherent absurdity of all of this, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sudden lack of any ache in his legs. They felt fine? They didn't feel like they were on fire anymore? He looked down at his legs, then at the bottle, then back at the man standing before him. His breath hitched as he began to fully realize the situation.

"Ohhh myy Godd.. Oh my God. Oh my God. Youuu're...you're not...you're..."

"Yeah, yeah look I know, I know, I get this is a lot for you, and all, but I think we should really get going before-"

Before he could finish what he was saying, the sudden sound of the most blood curdling scream James had ever heard in his entire life rang throughout the corridors.
The man quickly grabbed him by the arm and bolted in the opposite direction.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

"No time to explain, just run!"

So he did, not daring to look back. He heard it scream and groan, in some uncanny imitation of agony, wailing and crying, as if it were in pain. They kept running, and running, and running, until they hit a dead end.

"Damnit!"
The man hissed, as he turned back around, then back at the wall.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. OH MY GOD! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!"

'I'm gonna die! Das ist es! Das ist das Ende! Ich werde bei lebendigem Leibe von dem gefressen werden, was auch immer dieses...ding ist!'

"Ok, ok, there isn't enough time for us to run somewhere else, so I'm going to need you to trust me. I need you to close your eyes, stand as still as possible, and think about nothing, ok?"

"HUH? OH, WHAT SO, THAT THING CAN HAVE AN EASY MEAL, HMM?"
"So YOU can use ME as bait so you can sneak off?! Weeell I'm not falling for it!"

"What?... Ugh, ok, look, I'm trying to get you to no clip so BOTH of us make it out of here, Alright?!"

"No clip? What, fall through the wall? You really think I believe that?!"

"I was right about the water, wasn't I?"

The man pleaded before closing his eyes and standing still. James stared down the hall to see the creature barreling towards them. He froze at the sight of it. A gangling mass of nerve-like tendrils propped up on a tripod-like frame wobbling forward at an unnaturally fast pace. His life flashed before his eyes in that very moment, and before he could even think of committing to any action, an obnoxiously loud buzzing sound emanated from his visor. The other man's eyes snapped open, quickly turning to see the thing covering James's face had turned bright blue. He'd stopped moving entirely and appeared to stare blankly at nothing. The only indication of life was the shallow movement of his chest. The man quickly glanced back down the hall to see the entity only mere meters away from them. Not quite sure what was happening with this guy and only having a few seconds to act he did the only thing he could. He grabbed James by the arm again, took a deep breath, and prayed that he'd end up on a habitual level, before falling backwards into the wall.

Chapter Text

"Mmhh…"
"Did I die?.."

"No, but it sure seems like you did."

James's head quickly shot up to see that man leaned up against a wall across from him.

"You!- wha.. oh, where am I now?"

He whimpered, looking around the room. He was no longer trapped in that garish yellow box. Now he was sitting in some dimly lit concrete looking hallway.

"We're on level one."

"Level one? What?"

"There are different planes to this reality and they're all collectively known as levels."

"What even happened? That thing was chasing us and then I just…"

"That thing on your face turned blue, started beeping, then we no clipped."

“Oh, of course.”
"Damn this thing to hell…" he muttered under his breath as he readjusted it.

"What's it anyways?”

“Er, none of your business, that’s what it is.”
He huffed, stumbling back onto his feet while shakily hugging himself.
“Ohh…why is this even happening to me?…”
He snivelly retorted to himself.

"Don’t feel too bad about it.”
“S’not like you were trying to end up here."

"Who would ever WANT to end up here?"

"...You'd be surprised."
“We should probably get going before another entity shows up.”

“I'm assuming that's what those things are called?”

“Yes, but the one that we encountered is specifically known as Bacteria.”
He explained with a semi-enthused tone as they began to walk.

“What’s your name anyways? If I’m gonna be stuck with you I might as well have something to call you.”

“B. It’s B. Yours?”

“James.”
“Where are we going anyways?”

“There’s a M.E.G base not too far from here; I’m sure they could get you situated somewhere.”

“...?”

“Riiight, you don’t know what that is.”
“Uhm. They’ll explain it to you when you get there.”

“What do you mean by 'get you situated?' I’m not staying here! I need to get back to reality- or whatever you call it!”

“I get you don’t want to be here, but you have no idea what that entails. You're better off making the best of what you have.”

“How do you know? Are you trying to get back or something?”

“...”

“Oh? You are, aren't you?”
"And what qualifies you, huh?"

"I've been here much longer than you. You know nothing about this place and your libel to get yourself caught if that thing on your face goes off again."

"Well, if you've been here so long then why are you still here?"

"Again, getting back to reality is an extremely difficult task and you don't exactly fit the bill of someone with the capability to do that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't mean to be crass but you have the physique of a wet spaghetti noodle. I can't imagine you've endured much."

"Well, as a matter of fact, I'll have you know that I- …WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!"
He shrieked his face contorting from a snide grin to a horrified frown, as something crawled out from a dimly lit hall in front of them. The thing was hunched over on all fours, nearly hairless, and vaguely humanoid in appearance. The only hair it seemed to have was a long black mane that almost covered it whole face but through it he could make out a pair of uncannily large human-adjacent teeth.

"It's just a hound, nothing to worry about."

"NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT?! LOOK AT THAT THING!"

"Ugh, stop screaming, you're just agitating it. Get behind me I'll scare it off."

He gulped, nodding his head as he scurried behind, lowering his head in an attempt to hide himself from the beast. All B did was stare at it. He stared down into its beady little eyes with a nothing expression, as he held his head high and walked forward. The 'hound', as he called it, sheepishly moved forward, cautiously glaring back at him until it was out of sight.

“See? Nothing to worry about.”

“That’s why you don’t need to be here. You can barely handle a hound and those things are everywhere!”

“Well suuure, I might not…know anything about anything b-but! Uhhh-”

“Look, James, was it? You really don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. I know that you think you can, but you can’t, there is no conceivable way you could be qualified to even attempt to get back to reality.”

“Oh, really? And you’ve been perfect from day one? You said you were trying to get back, I assume that means you weren't always here?"

"I’m trained, you just got here, we are not comparable.”

“Trained in what? The art of being a bitch?”

“Ok, you are starting to get on my nerves.”

“Starting? Heh, most people can’t even make it past my fourth line of dialogue!”

“Ok…?"
His eyes shifted to the side, seeing a flight of stairs off the path.
“Hold on… I think we go that way.”

“You think? Some expert you are.”

“This plane is non-euclidean, I said 'I think' because nothing ever stays the same for long.”

"Whatever…”
‘This guy really has an explanation for everything, doesn’t he? Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should just stay here and cut my losses…’
‘No! No, I’m better than that!’

He quickly realized how disturbingly quiet it became once he’d stopped talking. The more he wallowed in the silence the more evident it became that this ‘level’ was just the same as the last one, only with a different coat of paint over top of it. The only outstanding sounds were the water dripping from the ceiling and the water that laced all of its floors, eerily splashing every time he took a step. This continued on until they reached the end of the staircase to see a weirdly military looking fort structure. He could see a few heavily armed guards men right outside of it.

“Errr, is that the base?”

“Yep!” He exclaimed as he began to nonchalantly walk up to the guards.

“Hey! Wait! I don’t think that’s a-!”
The guards soon noticed them, how could they not? B just went on strolling up to a bunch of presumed soldiers like it was nothing. That wasn’t even the strangest part. As he approached them they straightened up and appeared to unify as if they were addressing a superior.

“Hello sirs, this wouldn't happen to be the level one M.E.G out post, would it?” An obvious rhetorical question just to start some kind of conversation.

“Sir, yes sir!” The middle one exclaimed.

“I’ve got a wanderer; found him on level zero. I was hoping y’all could get him placed in a colony.”

“Yes sir!"
The same guard responded as he glanced over at James as he stood there, all deer-in-headlights faced, as a strange combination of bewilderment, confusion, and anxiety plastered itself on his face. B walked back over to him to bid him farewell.
"Well, I guess this is the end of our little journey. I'd wish you good luck but I don't think you really want to hear that from me. So yeah, it was ok meeting you, I guess."

"Wait a minute! H-Hold on! I never agreed to be a part of a colony! I need to get back home! T-To my world! Not here!"

"U-huh, you deal with this boys, I've had enough for today."
"Toodles." He said before getting into the same type of position he did on level zero right before they no clipped.

"Wait!" James cried as B fell backwards into the wall, hastily grabbing his hand and falling back with him. No clipping once again.

They both shortly reemerged on level two with a loud thump. B quickly stood up to see the other man.
"OH MY GOD? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! LEGITIMATELY! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!? Do you want to get home THAT badly or do you just want to piss me off?"

"Heeey now, h-hey, I did say that I didn't want to go to the base."

"So why did you keep following me at that point?! If you didn't want to go to M.E.G base then why did you keep following me like you did?"

"Gee well, I don't know, maybe it's because I'm in a different fucking dimension with horrific abominations lurking at every corner. Yeah, I don't know, maybe I wouldn't want to leave the side of the only other human being around!"

"Ok, then why didn't you go to the base?"

"Because I'm not staying here dammit!"
"Look, look, look, I know that we've gotten of to a bit of a rocky start-"

"A bit?"

"-but how about we come to a little agreement?"

"Go on?"

"Ok, so, what is your game plan for when you get out of here? You said you've been in for a very long time, right?"

"Yes, and uhm…"

"Alright, so this is my offer. If you keep me around as a travel companion and we both make it out of here; I will indebt myself to you. So, you'll have free housing and food for as long as you need, after this is all over, in reality. Do we have a deal?"

He stood there, pondering the offer for a while.
"You're gonna keep on following me around even if I say no, aren't you?"

"Errrr-"

"Ugh, alright, it's a deal." He sighed, holding his hand out for a handshake to finish the contract.

"R-Really?"

"Yeah, I ain't really got a choice either way, so why not?" And with that James shook his hand back. Beginning the journey ahead. 

Chapter Text

“So, er- where to?”

“Well, first we need to find a way to level five. Luckily, it's pretty easy to get there just by no clipping, which should be easy if everything goes accordingly.”

“Oh, good so, just fall backwards again?” He asked, already preparing himself for the fall.

“Hold on, you don’t even know where you’re trying to get to yet. Here, let me just…” He said before reaching deep into his lower left pocket. It only looked to be about four inches wide but somehow his whole hand, and then some, managed to fit in it no problem. Suddenly he pulled out a small polaroid. “Here, this is what it looks like. Think of this and nothing else.” The photo depicted what he could only imagine was some kind of hotel lobby, with large decorative plants, and a decently sized chandelier overtop. “Although, we better get out of here quickly; this level is entity infested.” He commented, as James finished examining the photo. He began to stand still, taking a deep breath, before falling backwards…aaand then hitting the floor with a loud thud. “OW!” he shrieked, rubbing his head. “Was zum Teufel! Why didn’t that work?” “So, I guess this isn’t going to go according to plan.” B murmured to himself before redirecting his attention back to the other. “Well, probably because you're new. There's usually a pretty steep learning curve to no clipping on command. I just thought this would be easier given your last two attempts.”

“Well, a warning would’ve been nice, you know?” He sneered as he picked himself up.

“Yeah, well I've learned that there’s usually a higher success rate for this sort of thing if you don’t tell someone they're going to fail. It’s a matter of confidence.” He said, before suddenly perking up to the sound of distant scratching.
"We gotta get out of here. Now."

"Huh? Oh, right because it's so entity infested here. Yeah, yeah I'll get goi-"

"Shh!" He aggressively shushed, "Do you hear that?" He asked. James nodded his head, as the scratching became louder. He quietly motioned for the other to follow him. He would’ve asked why or what was making that noise, but given his last few encounters with those entities creatures he didn’t even want to think about what it might have been. Probably just another horrific amalgamation of flesh, that’s all they seem to be anyways.

After a few minutes of quiet tip-toeing around the level they reached a split in their path. B reached back into his impossibly spacious pockets and pulled out one of those Almond Water bottles. He shook it around, making sure it was empty, before throwing it down the right path. Quickly yet quietly bolting down the left right after. James hurriedly followed behind him, trying his best to keep up with the other as the dimly lit hall slowly plunged into complete darkness the further he walked down it. The only light source around was his visor, but it didn’t do much. He could only see about a foot or so in front of himself. He traced his fingers down the side of his visor then pressed a small button. Suddenly, everything around him went from totally incomprehensible to a preservable bright green. He continued to walk forward, the scratching far distant by now, as B began to slow down back to a normal walking speed

"Ok, I think it's safe for us to try and no clip again. You still remember what the level looks like?"

"Er, yes?" He scoffed, ‘It's only been like five minute, how dumb does he think I am?'

"Ready, then?" He replied.

"Yeah," He answered, before getting into position, again. He began to null his thoughts of anything but that picture. He mapped out every single little detail he could remember in his mind. The plants, the chandelier, and the red and gold patterns everywhere… He deeply sighed before falling back, successfully no clipping this time. As the faint green light of James’s eyes disappeared, B followed suit disappearing with him.

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James’s eyes opened to the blinding light of the chandelier above him. He quickly shut his eyes and covered his face as he scooted himself backwards. As he turned around and stood up, he retraced the side of his visor, and pressed another button, his vision returning to normal. He looked back behind him to see where he had ended up. Sure enough, he'd made it to level five, at least he thought he did. As he looked around the room he noticed a few key differences between it and the photo. It was a lot darker than the picture, the chandelier was much larger, and there were no plants in sight. He also noticed a narrow hallway on the other side of the room, brightly beckoning for his attention. His eyes glanced around the room for a little while longer until he heard a quaint thud behind him. He quickly shot his head around to see it was just B. ‘What took him so long?’ he thought, as B swiftly brought himself back onto his feet.
“Well, looks like we made it.” He said, panning around the room until he saw the hallway, motioning for the other to follow him.

“So, is that thing on your face always just changing colors, or what?”  He asked, as they began to walk down the hall.

“Er- no, just when I need it to.”

“So, back on level zero when you blacked out or- I guess blued out- and nearly got yourself killed, you just needed to do that?”

“That’s an exception! I didn’t mean to bluescreen- it's complicated, alright?”

“That’s what you call it? ain’t that what computers do when they get messed up? Are you a robot or somethin'?" He jokingly asked.

"Er- no! ugh- … Ok, look- a long time ago something happened to me that caused my eyes to cease their functionality and now I have to use this to see- so, can you please shut up about it now?"

"Alright, alright- sheesh, I'll shut up."

They kept walking until the hall ended and opened up to a sort of massive entrance hall. It looked much more like the picture than the previous room, except for the fact that there seemed to be some kind of outpost in the middle of it. Maybe outpost wasn’t the best way to describe it. It was more like a dingy little campsite if anything.

‘Must be one of those colonies B was talking about. Thank God for my stubbornness then, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like that.’ he reassured himself as they walked towards it.

The campsite observation became more apparent as more of it came into view. People just walking around, chatting and joking with each other like nothing was wrong, like any of this was normal. The complete and utter lack of common sense from any of these people made him feel sick. He couldn't let that happen to himself; he needed to get out of here. As they walked around, suddenly something snapped inside of his mind. A feeling crawled down his spine of indescribable discomfort. His clothes- they were still soggy from his fall on level zero. His abject terror made him forget about it for a while, but now that things had mellowed out- it was unbearable. The way its dampness made his sweater stick itself onto him. How his skin itched and squirmed under it. How the coolness of the level made him twitch with every other step, he needed it off and fast. Darting his eyes around, he saw a multitude of tents set up on the sidelines like a cavalcade of pop up shops. They all had big tacky signs in bold lettering, advertising whatever random goods they might have had. At least one of those shops had to have had something that would’ve fit him. Even if the texture was off- anything would be better than this.

"Heey- erm- B- y-you don’t plan on sstopping anytime soon, do you?”

“I do, actually. There’s a specific seller from this colony I need something from, why?' “Well…er- you wouldn’t mind also picking up- s-some- uhm… clothes- for me? It’s just that these are- uh- wet and horrible and I feel that if I don't get them off in a reasonable amount of time I'm going blue screen again- s-so, I would really appreciate it if you- erm- yeah.”

The other glanced over to him. He could see that James was visibly shaking and red faced as he pulled at the collar of his neck, desperate for some form of escape.

“Alright- but you owe me.” He sighed, before shortly stopping at a tent. Unlike all the other tents he’d seen, this one's entrance was covered up by some kind of cloth. “Huh, would you look at that?” He muttered to himself, as he began walking in.

“Now, fair warning, this is a weapons shop so, just- keep calm and lay low, alright?” he warned before going the whole way in.

The other just quietly scoffed and rolled his eyes, ‘Because, why wouldn’t it be?’ He thought to himself as he walked inside. The tent’s inside was much darker compared to the level around it. Like all the outside light just couldn’t reach through its walls for some illogical reason. Instead, It was dimly lit by an array of old-timey lanterns sitting around all the four corners of the tent. B was already talking with, what he assumed to be, the merchant of the tent. He sheepishly stood behind him, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

“So, that’ll be three packs of .357 Magnums?”

“Yep, ‘bout the same as always. Nothing new there.” He sighed, as he pulled out a couple of Almond Water bottles from his pocket.

“Oi, guy in the back, what's your business?”

“He ain't looking for anything, he's with me.”

“I thought you didn't travel with anyone anymore?” The merchant questioned.

“Weeeell… I’ve made an exception. "...For now at least…” He muttered as he placed the bottles on the counter.

The merchant just shrugged, “Alright, then.”

James cleared his throat as he softly nudged B. "Oh, right.”

“Hey I know it's not really your thing, but do you happen to have any kinds a’ clothes that would fit about… that?” He asked, pointing to James.

“...Y’know, I think I might…” The merchant said as he bent down behind the counter and pulled out a large old box.
“How much ya’ willing to pay? I ain’t giving anything out for free.” He added as he opened it up, starting to look through it for whatever thing he was talking about.

“Five bottles.”

“Seven.”

“Six.”

“Deal.” He said as he pulled out a long sleeved yellow jumpsuit from the box. It looked old. Like it’d been worn too many times and was now far past its prime. Pathetic. That was the word that came to his mind. Pathetic. Seems fitting he’d be stuck with it for now, but anything would be better than these ungodly uncomfortable clothes he had on. B paid for the garment, and then they were back on their path for an exit. He handed it over to James once they got out of the tent. It felt like silk. That’s probably what it was. It’ll due. ‘It’s manageable,’ he thought. It wouldn't have been his first choice- but, then again none of this would have been his first choice.

As they walked out of the settlement, and into the vast expanse of the level the walls began to grow smaller and smaller until they were just walking through a hallway again. Eventually they came upon a door. It was a deep red color, sunken into the left side of the wall. It felt off. Just like everything else here. He should really stop expecting normalcy from this hell hole. B pulled out a flashlight from one of his pockets as he reached for the door knob. He then quickly turned the flashlight on and opened the door, flashing it around the room to make sure nothing was inside. Slowly he walked inside, still rapidly shining it around before getting to a light switch and flipping it on. The room going from near utter darkness to complete light in half a second.

“Alright- coast is clear. You can change in here; I'll wait outside.”

James nodded as the other walked out the door and shut it behind himself. As soon as he could he practically tore his clothes off, quickly throwing them to the side.  Not really caring about where they went. A great sigh of relief left his lips as he leaned against the bed behind him. He just sat there breathing, staring at nothing as he did so. He'd still been able to hold on to some kind of minuscule hope in the back of his mind that this was all just some elaborately vivid alcohol-induced dream after another bender at Hashley's or something like that. ‘He'd had weirder!’ he had thought. Surely, he'd wake up any second now. That, in truth, he'd never even gone to work that morning. That that morning hadn't even happened yet. That he was still just asleep on somebody else's couch again and surely he'd soon wake up to the nastiest hangover of his life. He'd rather that than any of this. But sitting here- sitting here on this bed that hope had shattered indefinitely. For he could feel the covers of the bed beneath him. He could feel the newly bought jumpsuit in his grasp. And he could feel how his bare skin now shivered from the lasting impact of the moisture his clothes had left behind. This was no dream. This was reality. This was his reality now and he couldn't keep hiding behind his own false hope. He felt like crying. Even though he knew he couldn't. Not for real anyways.
‘No. Not here. Not now.’ He thought, ‘I can deal with this later; I have to get going. For her sake if no one else's.’

He sighed before finally putting on the jumpsuit. It was pretty easy to get on all things considered. All he had to do was un and then re-zip a little zipper in the back so he could fit in it. It felt fine. It felt as fine as he expected it to. Again, anything was better than his previous attire. He walked over to a body sized mirror on the other side of the room and looked at himself. One thing he could say for certain was that this thing was far to skin tight for his liking. It barely even felt like he was wearing real clothes at that point. But he wasn't going to say any of that out loud, no sir, he was content in keeping his complaints to himself. He had to be careful. B might ditch him if he gets to uncomplacent. He still didn't fully trust that guy. He was just playing along because what other option did he have? It was either that or sit and rot here.

As he was beginning to get ready to leave this room, he picked up his old clothes from the ground. No matter how uncomfortable they made him only a few minutes ago, they were still the only things he had left from reality. As he picked up his pants he realized something. His phone was in the back pocket. He nearly gasped at the realization.
‘My phone?!’ he thought. “God- oh God, bitte arbeite- bitte arbeite!”

He mumbled under his breath as he desperately held down on the side power button. It was dead. Not broken but still dead all the same. He was thankful for that at the very least. He needed to be on the lookout for some kind of type-c charger and an outlet. Maybe he could ask B for one. He had to have one. It seemed like he had one of everything in those pockets of his- there's no way he didn't, right? Turning his attention to the door, he sighed and turned the handle before walking outside.

Chapter Text

James walked out to see B, who stared blankly at nothing as he leaned against the wall, before sharply cocking his eyes in James’s direction.
“Are you finally ready?” he asked, as he yawned, cracking his neck, before pulling out a bottle of almond water and taking a sip.
“Yeah…” James sighed, still tightly holding onto his phone and clothes.
“You don't plan on carrying those all the way to the exit, do you?” B asked, putting his drink away.
“No!- I-I mean, don't know what else to do with them!”
“Here,” he said, holding his hand out, “I'll keep it in a pocket for now.”
James hesitated for a moment, before eventually giving in to his offer, handing his clothes over.
“While we're on the topic of your pockets, you wouldn't happen to have a charger in them? Preferably a type c?”

The other simply let out a quiet sigh before responding, “If you're trying to use that phone of yours to get into contact with someone from the frontrooms, it's not going to work. There's no service connection between here and there. Besides, I don't have a charger for one of those fancy, touchscreen phones. I could store it for you, but that's about it.”

‘Just my luck’, he thought before rolling his eyes and then handing his phone over to the other because what else was he supposed to do with it? “What’s up with those goddamn pockets anyways? Seriously! You just stuffed an entire shirt and a whole pair of pants in those tiny ass fucking pockets, and they don't even leave a dent! That's not how- how physics works!” He babbled on and on about how it was physically impossible for everything he's pulled out and put in his pockets to fit as seamlessly as they did, despite knowing full well whatever explanation he was about to get would not account for any form of reason or logic.

“Yeah, I sure do wish I knew how they worked; what a shame I don't.” B smugly remarked as he began to walk down the hall. James was stunned for a moment. The statement took him extremely off guard.
“Oh, so suddenly now you're not Mr. Fucking knows everything under the goddamn sun?” He berated the other as he caught up with him.

“Do you know how to form a sentence without swearing every five words?” B sighed annoyedly.

“Uh- no, actually I don't! Is that what you want to hear? Are you fucking with me, or do you not know how it works?”

“I don't know, maybe I would if somebody knew how to ask a little nicer.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” he mumbled. “Ugh, fine- will you please tell me how your pockets work?” He sighed, batting his eyes in a mocking display of compliance.

“Hmmm, ahh- I don't know. I didn't sense all that much sincerity there.”

“Ugh, you know what? Forget about it. Where are we even going anyways? You said we needed to get to level five and now we're here; is this where the exit is?”

“No, where we're heading is a long ways away from here, so don't get your hopes up too quickly.” He said, turning a corner.

“Ok, so, how much further away is the exit? How much more shit do I have to fall through?”

“Well, actually most of the path from here on out is just walking. First, we'll have to find a door to the maintenance hall section of this level, then in the maintenance halls we'll need to find a door filled with darkness, which has a chance of leading us into level six, and if we travel for long enough in level six, we'll eventually end up in level seven. Seven leads to negative hundred ten, which leads to three eighty-four, which then finally leads to the Promised Land.”

“Negative? Promised Land? I'm not even going to ask- but why is the exit called the ‘Promised Land’? Why doesn't it have a ‘normal’ name like this one does?”

“Weelll, that's the thing, it's not actually confirmed to exist…b-but- there are a number of photographed accounts of a currently unknown level that is speculated to be the Promised Land! They- uh- they all match any given description of it; it's just that no majorly recognized foundation has documented it- yet!”

“Oh? So, this entire exit plan is based on a pipe dream? Great.”

“Well, y'know, if I wanted, I could just go ahead and drop you off at another wanderer outpost. I mean, if it's such an outlandish idea to go this route anyways I'm sure you wouldn't mind it, right?” That got James to shut up real quick. He knew he had to stop bitching so much, less he was to break B into leaving him. He was his golden ticket out of this mess; he needed to stop holding it over an open furnace. It was just so frustrating trying to keep his mouth shut, especially in a place like this.

“Heh, I kid. I still need you so you can hold up your end of the deal. I just hope that you're not homeless by the time we get there.” He joked in a morbidly playful tone.

“Homeless?” James asked, “W-Why would I be homeless?” His voice shifted to one of concern.

“Well, y'know, if it takes too long you might be proclaimed missing or dead by the time we get there. But, I mean, you obviously have someone waiting for you back home.”

“How do you know that?” He was almost shocked he could tell that. Nobody could ever tell when he cared about something.

“Eh, pattern of behavior. Every time I run into some star-crossed wanderer it's always the same kind of story. They miss their family or their friends or something like that It’s not all that hard to gauge, and on the subject of you, what’s your story anyways? The specifics, I mean. Given my luck, we're gonna be out here looking for that door for a while so we might as well get to know each other a little more.”

“Oh, and I have to be the first one to talk?” He sighed, looking off to the side. They walked in silence for a moment until James softly spoke, “I live alone, I teach chemistry at a shitty public high school, and I have a total of two friends. That’s about as much as anyone needs to know.”

“So, I'm guessing it's your friends then, huh? Y'know, for someone so desperate to get back home, you don't sound all that enthralled with your life. If you don't mind me asking, is there a reason for that?”

James pondered the question, thinking of what to say before answering, “Some…some things just didn't work out for me. I-I'm not…I’m not where I wanted to be. B-But that's not anything special, you've probably already heard that before from someone else. What about you then?”

“Me? Well, to be honest, all I really do is explore. I mean, sometimes I'll get invited to these big foundation meet ups as a consultant, but I mostly just do my own thing. I don't really even directly work for any of them, just working odd jobs and field scouting most of the time. I swear, nearly all my time here has been spent trying to leave, heh.” He slightly chuckled at the end, but his amusement was cut short by a sudden snarling noise behind them, making B perk up almost immediately. He swiftly turned around, reaching for his pocket, but he was far too slow.

An entity had jumped on top of him, knocking him to the floor.

Chapter Text

James stood frozen in his tracks as the thing jumped on top of B. In the blink of an eye, they'd gone from having a calm conversation with each other to the other, being in the process of getting mauled. Limbs frozen; all he could do was stare down at the situation in horror. B struggled against the force of the creature. He held his knees up to its stomach, while simultaneously holding one of his hands to its neck. James could see his muscles straining as every fiber of his being fought so desperately to keep its gnawing maw away from his face. He quickly used his loose hand to reach into one of his pockets, manically feeling around for something, before swiftly pulling out a gun. Hands shaking, he held it in the direction of the creature's head, aiming to hit it straight through the eyes. As his fingers laced the trigger, the entity suddenly took one of its claws and slashed it across B’s chest, using the other to knock the gun out of his hand. B bit down on his lip as the searing pain in chest convulsed through his body. It did not take very long for blood to start seeping through his overcoat. Its deep brown color fading into a dark maroon.

B’s gun slid across the floor, reaching James’s feet. At this point James was mostly focused on just trying to stay conscious. He sweated madly as he watched on in terror; he didn’t know whether to run or to just accept that this was it for the both of them. For even if he somehow managed to escape that entity, he’d probably die out in these halls before anyone else would find him.
“James!” B yelled, darting his eyes over to the other. “Shoot it!” He wailed, “SHOOT IT!” He clenched his teeth as he tried his best to hold the entity back.

James could feel his head spinning. All of this chaos weighed so heavily on him; he felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if he'd already bluescreened but yet was somehow still completely awake. He looked down at the gun, then back at B, knowing what he would have to do. He picked it up as quickly as he could manage. He gulped as he aimed it, hands sweaty and shaky. B took quick notice of this, mustering up his last bit of strength to throw the entity off himself. At that moment James did not think. Thought was not a pleasantry he had the privilege of indulging himself in at that moment. All that mattered at that moment was his survival. With no hesitation he pressed down on the trigger. Firing over and over again, making sure that that thing would never get back up again.
“James!” the other yelled, “I think…I think that’s- that’s enough…” B wheezed. James slowly let go of the trigger as he looked back at the entity. ‘Christ,’ he thought, he must've blown at least six shots in that thing's head. It looked like a trypophobe’s worst nightmare. He couldn’t think about it for much longer, as B’s pained moans filled his ears. He looked over to see the other leaning up against the wall, holding his chest with one of his hands. He used the other to pull out a bottle of Almond Water from his right pocket, chugging it directly after getting the lid off. James, in a panic, fell to his knees as he slid across the floor to B.
“Fuck!- s-shit!- shit, are you ok?- f-fuck!- obviously not- shit!-” He stuttered out a worried mess of words that barely made any sense together. So many thoughts and feelings were running through his head it was a miracle he was even still talking.

B parted his lips from the drink, “Yyyeah- yeah, don’t worry about it, I’m fine, I-I’ve felt worse.” He coughed out, trying to reassure the other, an obviously forced half-smile crossing his face.
“R-Really?” James asked shakily, his eyes trailing down from the other’s face to his wound, the jagged cuts leaving behind four bright scarlet streaks in his chest, contrasting greatly with the mostly muted colors the rest of his outfit donned.
“Yeah- really.” His breath hitched as he intensified his grip on his wound, attempting to hide it. “No worse than a scratch, really!...” He coughed once again, this time a bit of blood coming up with it.
“Christ!- well, you’ve got to have some kind of first aid- o-or something else in one of those pockets beside Almond Water?”
B’s face seemed to become more agitated by the suggestion, “It’s fine, alright? It’ll- it’ll pass. I’ve- I’ve lived worse.” He lamented, attempting to stand. His legs were visibly shaking as he stood, needing support from the wall to even do so. His breath was heavy, still holding on to his chest.
“See? Completely fine.” he confidently sighed, attempting to walk before abruptly falling back down on the ground.
“D-Dammit…” he wheezed, gripping his wound even tighter, curling in on himself like a defenseless child.
“L-Look,” James stammered, “cut the shit, ok? You're hurt- badly hurt!- O-Ok?- A-And I can’t have you dying on me, alright? So… so just let me help you?- T-This one time? So, you don't fucking die.”

B huffed, turning his head up to face the other. “Bottom right,” he sighed, quickly darting his eyes to the side.
“Huh?” James asked, turning his head in confusion as he looked back down at the other’s wound, still gapping as ever.
“The bottom right pocket!” he hissed through gritted teeth, “Ugh… there’s an aid kit in there…” He sighed.

James nodded, before opening it up and reaching his hand in. It felt…very strange, to say the least. It felt as if his hand wasn’t in anything at all, if that makes any sense. It was almost like he'd stuck his hand through a trapdoor or an open window; as if there was nothing on the other side, just more empty space. He dug around in it for a few seconds before he felt something suddenly appear beside his hand. Feeling it up a bit more thoroughly, he determined that it was probably what he was looking for. After pulling it out, yeah, it was. Opening it up, he saw a variety of different medical objects inside, as hoped. He took out a flask of rubbing alcohol, a small rag, and a bandage roll. Shifting his eyes back over to B, he realized that he would have to ask him to take off his coat and shirt to actually apply any of it.

‘How would I even ask him that??’ he thought, awkwardly staring down at him.
“E-Ermm, c-could you-?”
“Ugh, fine” the other sighed, rolling his eyes, “I can’t be bothered to listen to you stumble through your words anymore.” He remarked as he began to remove his upper garments. He was still visibly shaking, trying his hardest to get it all off as quickly as possible. James’s eyes shifted to the side as he did so, not really knowing what else to do. Before long he'd gotten it all off, scrunching it up into a small pile beside himself. James simply just redirected his attention to the cloth in his hand, taking the small canister of rubbing alcohol and pouring some on it. He scooted himself a bit closer to the other, in order to more effectively treat his wounds. He carefully placed the rag to B's chest, gently dragging it across the wound. It wasn't just the current four gaping holes in his chest that caught James's attention however; as he soon came to realize that the majority of his skin was covered in similar types of scars. So bad, in fact, that about half of the damage sustained by the current claw marks went through an existing scar that covered his entire right shoulder and about half of his chest. It was like that for most of what he could see, just on a much smaller scale. Small, jagged chunks of scar tissue laced his body in an erratic manner; save for two conspicuously symmetrical scars lining the bottom of his chest. It was clear on B's face that he hated every second of this, gritting his teeth in frustration as he stared off into nothing. After James finished applying the rubbing alcohol to the other's wounds, he grabbed the bandage roll from behind himself and began to finally bandage up his wounds. By the time he'd started disinfecting it most of the blood had already begun to dry up, making it much easier on his part. The roll itself was pretty big so it didn’t take too long to get it all covered up.

“Finally.” B sighed, swiftly grabbing his clothes with one hand, using the other to feel up the wall in a second attempt to stand. His body shook greatly; sharp, uneven breaths left his lips. James backed up a bit before also standing up, staring at the other with bated breath.
“Lord, quit… quit looking at me like that dammi-” his words were cut short by a sudden weakness in his legs. He began to fall, again, before quickly being caught by James midair.
“This isn’t going to work.” James said bluntly, looking down at the other in his arms. “Look, why don’t we just…camp out in one of these rooms? Until you can- y’know- stand? Because I’m not carrying you any longer than I have to.” He sighed, honestly just wanting an excuse to rest.
“...Fine.” B muttered, an air of shame lining his voice.

James looked around the corridor, its few charms fully wearing off on him. There were so many doors on either side of them that it was hard to decide which one to choose.
‘Anything could be behind them,’ he thought, ‘knowing what this place has been like.’
James managed to maneuver B into a position where one of his arms was propped up onto James's shoulder, letting him lean on James, making it much easier for B to walk. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was better than trying to drag him across the floor. James was not a very strong man. It would appear at a first glance that he was made exclusively of skin and bone, nothing else. It had never really been all that necessary for him to do anything involving his muscles for nearly his entire life, but right about now he was wishing that he had had some reason to. He knew better than anyone that he couldn’t hold anything over 40 pounds for more than a few seconds. So, you could imagine what it felt like to have an entire man try and use him as a support beam.

He quickly decided on just picking the one closest to them, not wanting to deal with this any longer than he had to. A few seconds of feeble shuffling later, they were to it. James put his loose hand on the door’s handle, preparing to open it before being vocally interrupted by B.
“Hold on a second!” he wheezed, “You don't know what could be in there. There’s a flashlight in my upper left pocket, take that.”

“I don’t see how a flashlight is supposed to help with that.” James remarked, as he reached his hand into said pocket.

“It’s for smilers. Smilers can’t exist in light. As much as a flashlight will pretty much kill ‘em on sight.” He sighed as James pulled out the flashlight, quickly turning it on before opening the door. He flashed it around rapidly, checking every nook and cranny he could before quickly tip-toeing over to the large ceiling light/fan in the middle of the room's roof. He swiftly jumped up and pulled the dangling little switch that hung from it. He then hastily pulled himself to the bed, gently letting go of the other so that he could finally rest.

Once B had flopped onto the bed, James turned his attention back to the door. He walked over to it, intending on closing it; but once he got to it, staring back at him was the corpse of the thing he'd shot to death mere minutes ago. It had seemed that he'd forgotten all about it. It's cold, dead eyes shot bullets into him as he stared back at it confused onto what he was even feeling. As it sat there doing nothing all he could think to do was stare back. That was his doing. He did that. He killed it.
‘It attacked first,’ he thought. ‘I shouldn't feel bad…’ but he did. Something inside him just wouldn't let it go. He couldn't stop thinking about it. He couldn't stop staring at it. He just couldn't stop. His heart pounded in his chest and his breath hitch as he looked on, guilt filling his mind for no reason. He stood there, unmoving. Until a sudden feeling crawled down his spine. He knew that feeling better than anything. The feeling he would always get right before a really bad crash. With his last bit of strength, he slammed the door completely shut as hard as he could. And within seconds, everything had ceased to be.

Chapter Text

James woke up like it was any other morning. He haphazardly put on his visor and continued to lay in bed, simply staring at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, before deciding to get up for work. Stumbling into his bathroom, he brushed his teeth, before combing and gelling down his hair. After that, he walked over to his closet and sloppily opened it with his head tilted down at the floor. He lifted his head up with the expectation that his normal attire would be in front of him, but instead in its place hung a single white lab coat. James’s eyes shot open wide at the sight of it. The rest of the closet seemed to be shrouded in utter darkness, resembling more a hallway than it did anything else. James could feel his limbs freezing up as he stared at the coat, vivid memories flooding his mind. In vain, he closed his eyes and shook his head rapidly, hoping that it would just go away. However, re-opening his eyes, it seemed that the darkness of the closet had enveloped the entire room, leaving only him and the lab coat. His limbs locked themselves into place; all he could do was stare. The coat itself was no longer attached to any hanger, instead it simply stood there, flooding in mid air all on its own. It all sent him back: the look of the fabric, the stupid little I.D. tag on the front of it, the smell of burning flesh. It was almost as if it was speaking to him, begging him to come closer, to put it on, and to pretend. It was taunting him with that stupid, stupid fucking tag. The horrid smug smirk on his face, the barely kept curly hair, the bright green eyes, the big blocky glasses, and the excited body language all made him feel so ashamed, so regretful, so powerless.

Amidst all this, he somehow managed to blink again. Suddenly, he was in front of a desk with a multitude of beakers and test tubes, all filled with different chemicals, and layed out in a messy fashion; the lab coat now on him. He knew exactly where he was, he knew better than anyone. His arms began to move independently of himself, and he knew exactly what they were doing. He desperately tried to take back control of himself to no avail. He tried yelling out for help, only for his lips to remain frozen in place. He tried doing anything but his body wouldn't budge; he couldn't even manage to get his eyes to close anymore. As his left hand reached for a test tube and his right a beaker, all he could do was watch in unyielding terror. Time seemed to slow itself indefinitely as his hands got closer, and closer, and closer to mixing the two. His left hand lifted itself to an angle where the liquid substance inside began to fall down to the beaker. Within a second of the first droplet hitting the other, a massive explosion erupted from it, causing everything to go white.
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James shortly woke up in a panic. He swiftly shot up from wherever he was laying, and frantically tried turning on his visor. Within a couple of seconds, his vision came back to him. He looked around the room, acutely shaking and violently hyperventilating, to the point where he could barely even comprehend his surroundings. His heart felt as if it were going to rocket out of his chest and start convulsing on the floor beneath. He hadn't had a dream that bad in a long time, and they only really ever got that bad after a night of drinking or blazing; but, he wasn’t really all that surprised the more he thought about it. He’d been under the most stress he’d ever felt in- well…his entire life really. ‘Just another ‘fuck you’ from the universe, right?’ he thought to himself, rolling his eyes.

After a couple of minutes, he managed to calm himself down. Looking around the room much more critically this time, he found himself sitting on some kind of a sofa. It was styled like an early 1900’s lounge couch. It was quite comfortable, it had either never been touched or it had been kept extremely well, James hoping it was the former much more than the ladder. Looking up from the sofa, he noticed a small TV sitting on top of a tall-ish dresser. It was playing some old black and white silent film he’d probably never heard of; something, something, cowboys, something, something, intense racism is all he could really gage from it. Looking off to the side, he noticed a tall skinny lamp that partially illuminated the room with a dim light, and glancing behind himself, he saw B laying in the same bed he’d put him on earlier, right before he bluescreened. He only had one of his eyes opened, seeming to stare off into nothing. The sight of it made James jump a bit. “The hell…” he muttered as B simply continued to stare off into nothing.
“You can cut it out now, I’m fine.” he bluntly said to the other, yet got no response. “Hey, jackass, I said quit it, alright!” He snapped. After another bit of silence, he rolled his eyes with a scoff, before crossing his arms, standing up and walking over to B’s bed side. He stared down at the other, a displeased expression on his face.
“Hello??” he annoyedly asked, growing more and more frustrated by the second at the apparent lack of an answer. However, the more he looked down at the other, he came to a realization. James came to notice that B never blinked; along with that, his eye was stuck at a permanent half-opened position, never wavering at any point. Waving his hand in front of his eye, it pretty much confirmed his suspicion. B was not in fact messing with him. He was just…asleep.

Suffice to say, James felt like a complete fucking idiot right about now. As he stepped back, he thought, ‘Who the fuck sleeps like that??’ Sitting back down on the couch, he continued thinking about it. ‘...I mean, I guess it makes a little sense. I mean, if I lived in a hell dimension I guess I would always have an eye open as well.’ A small chuckle leaving his mouth, “God, this is all so absurd,” he muttered to no one in particular.

He laid against the back of the couch, continuing to examine the room. Looking over at the other side of it, he noticed something peculiar. A bright white door sat in the middle of the right wall. It was incredibly out of place with the rest of the room, clashing so extremely with the faded reds and golds of it, he was baffled as to how he didn’t notice it earlier. It was strange; it looked somewhat modern to him? Like he could walk into any random house from his area and see that door somewhere. It had felt like ages since he’d seen anything that familiar. He just kept staring at it, as if he was waiting for it to do something on its own. He wanted to open it, even though he knew that that was probably a bad idea. Every other door he’d opened had been fine, ‘why should this one be any different?’ he thought. He stood back up, a nervous pit forming in his stomach.

Walking closer to the door, his hands began to lightly shake. ‘Come on, James, it’s just a stupid door.’ he tried reassuring himself as he felt his heart begin to beat faster. ‘It’s a door for christ’s sake; it’s not going to kill you. If anything was going to kill you, you would’ve been dead already.’ Placing his hand on the knob, he let out a quick, anxious sigh, before swinging open the door, abruptly shutting his eyes as he did so. ‘God, why did I do that?? I’m so fucking dead. I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die for sure- for real this time! As soon as I open my eyes, there’s going be some abomination staring me down- I just know it…’ he thought to himself as he slowly re-opened his eyes to see nothing of the sort. All there was was a…bathroom? Just a dimly lit 30’s-era bathroom. That was it. In all honesty, he was more surprised that that was all there was. No mangled piles of walking flesh; no eldritch horror beyond his comprehension, just- a bathroom. It was almost more shocking to him, he couldn’t understand why he was so compelled by it.

Shaking his head in order to regain some sense, he decided upon going inside. He could see an old, pulley type light switch dangling from the top of the ceiling, making him much more confident in going inside. He quickly ran in, turning it on as soon as he could. Right in front of him was a bright, pale white sink with a mirror mounted to the wall right above it. He looked at himself for a awhile; making sure nothing too major had happened to him in between his latest bluescreen and now. ‘Nothing of note, thankfully.’ He thought, turning his attention to the rest of the room.

There wasn’t really anything of note to be found on the right side of the room. A few shelves with a couple of towels on each rack, a neatly kept bathtub, and a toilet of equally well kept appearance, but that was about it. His face twisted in confusion as he turned his attention to the other side of the room. It was nearly barren, all except for a clothes rack, also mounted to the wall. It only had one thing hanging on it; a single faded purple dress. The placement of it all confused him more than anything. For one, who hangs their clothes in their bathroom? And for two, why was it only the rack?? Where was the rest of it? You don’t just have a clothes rack like that without a closet!...then again maybe it was for the best; he wasn’t really in the mood to think about closets anymore. Apart from that, he kept thinking about that dress, ‘I mean, who just leaves a perfectly good dress like that in a dingy place like this?’ He asked himself, staring intently at it. A very noticeable sweat broke out over his face as he continued staring at it. He quickly darted his eyes over to the open door he’d entered from. Looking back at the other room, he saw that B was still sleeping in the strange one-eyed manner from earlier. With a brief sigh of relief, he quietly shut the door. Backing away from it further, he turned his attention back to the dress. ‘Am I really doing this right now?’ He asked himself, growing ever more nervous by the second. ‘I’m probably not going to get another chance like this, not for a long time anyways. Besides, B’s fast asleep; I’ll be done before he wakes up, I’m sure of it!’ He tried to reassure himself as he walked shakily towards the dress. With a deep, calming sigh, he took off his jumpsuit, grabbed the dress and put it on. It all happened so quickly in his mind, like he blinked and- boom- he had it on. The pit that was forming in his stomach had taken full force now. He felt his body getting hotter and hotter by the second, but not necessarily in a bad or uncomfortable way. He’d felt like this before about a lot of different things. The closest thing he could compare it to was how he felt whenever he got to talking about one of his special interests, as silly as that sounds. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this either, it’s just that most of the other times he’d been too drunk or high to remember any of it, apart from how much he cried anyways. He walked back over to the mirror, simply staring at himself again. He came to notice how the dress was covered in these small off-color blue, pink and purple stars. He also came to see that it had the word “FREAK” written across the chest in big bolded letters. It made him giggle a bit; it reminded him so heavily of something Hashley would have laying around in her apartment. It was almost uncanny, but in a much more personal sense; so far removed from the general, all encompassing liminality of the rest of this place. To the point where it even felt out of place here, ‘Just like me, huh?’ he thought as he continued to stare at his reflection.

He spent the next couple of minutes simply messing around and enjoying his time with the dress. Spinning around and posing in the mirror while he hummed faint toons to himself, a nasally, “For I sing songs until the break of dawn,” slipping from his vocal cords. He felt so happy, it was almost paradoxical. ‘How am I so happy in a place like this?’ He thought, hands stimming wildly. He looked himself in the eyes and gave one of the most genuine, yet melancholy smiles he’d ever managed to give in his life. ‘God, I never want to take this off. I want to feel like this forever.’ He lamented to himself, putting his elbows on the sink and his hands on his visor. He slowly moved his hands from his face a few moments later, looking back at it through the mirror. “Ugh, why can’t you just be normal.” He frustratedly sighed to himself.

However, his brief moment of self reflection was swiftly cut by the sudden metallic click of the door handle behind him, as it began to open. In that moment, James felt some of the most raw fear he’d ever felt in his life. The sudden click of that door was enough to instill the same amount of terror that the entity from earlier did in its entire duration. The sudden and indefinite realization that he was no longer alone; that he was about to be seen; not just seen, but seen like this. To James’s anticipated horror, it was none other than B, staring at him with that look. The kind of look that had been burned into his memory sense he was old enough to remember. An unmistakable mixture of surprise, shock and a 100% completely identifiable twinge of complete and utter disgust. B was too stunned to speak, the sheer unexpectedness of what he was seeing left him devoid of any audible thought. Without thinking, James jumped to the door and quickly slammed it shut, pressing against it with all his might.
“What the- hey!” he could hear B yell through the door, but he didn’t care. For in James’s mind, it was over for him- more over than it had ever been beforehand. B had seen him for the grotesque abomination he truly was. He fought with every fiber of his insignificant being to keep himself from bluescreening. He couldn’t!
‘Who knows what would happen to me if I crashed right now?! Best case scenario, I’m left here to my own devices; left here to wander these never ending halls until something else finds me. He’s definitely not taking me with him anymore, why would he? I’ll be lucky if I get out of this alive- I bet.’

The sudden push back against the door from the other side only worsened his panic. He knew B was much stronger than him, and that he would have the door open in no time at all. James was powerless to stop it; so he did the only thing he knew how to do, beg.
“N-No, no, no, no, no! Please, please, please, PLEASE don’t open that door! L-Look- look- I-I know that I haven’t been useful f-for anything- b-but bitte- BITTE- Ich verspreche- promise- you never have to see me again after this, alright? J-Just, bitte lassen Sie mich allein! Please!" He choked out a barely comprehensible string of desperate pleas, slipping in and out of his mother tongue from instinct, and trying his hardest to get B to pity him and leave or to just annoy him to the point of leaving. Either way, he’d be left alone, away from prying eyes. By this point, he’d guessed their deal was off so it’s not like it even mattered anymore.
‘This is what I’m going to be remembered for, isn’t it? In this place at least. He’s probably going to retell my story as nothing more than the punchline to some shitty joke, right? That’s all I’ve ever been, why would this be any different here? ‘Hey you wanna hear about the time I caught this disgusting, waste-of-space faggot playing dress up in a bathroom, real funny stuff’ I can already hear it materializing.’

Almost as soon as James started begging, B quickly jolted his hand from the handle and backed off slightly. As the opposing pressure was relieved from the door, James’s wailing pleas became nothing more than pathetic sobs as he slid down to his knees. All he could do was wait for the sounds of B’s departure.

However, it never came. A few moments later, James could hear B clearing his throat, obviously gearing up to say something to him. James expected the same old response he got from most of the people who’d found him like this throughout his life: a disappointed tone, a couple slurs here and there, and maybe, if he was lucky, some kind of pity thrown his way. But, surprisingly to James at least, he got nothing of the sort. B simply told him, “Right- my apologies! I didn’t mean to interrupt- you just- weren’t in the room anymore, and I got a little worried’s all, hehe. I-uh- I probably should’ve knocked first, huh?” His tone of voice caught James completely off guard. ‘He was apologizing to ME??’ He thought, most of his fear being replaced by pure bewilderment. He sniffly muttered, “Your apologies?”

“Yes,” B replied, a slight confusion lining his voice. “I invaded your privacy, and for that I apologize.”
“You’re not mad?” James haphazardly blurted out, immediately regretting opening his mouth.
“Pardon?” He asked, becoming even more confused. “Why would I be upset with you?”
“Oh, stop playing dumb, would you?” James hissed at the other in frustration. “I know what you saw, and pretending like you didn’t isn’t going to suddenly make me forget about it.” He said, lightly choking on his words. B, a bit taken aback by his words, replied, “Oh! Is this about the dress-? I don’t care if you like wearing dresses. That's the least of my concerns.”

The sentence, “I don’t care if you like wearing dresses,” were the last string of words he’d expected to come from anyone in this place. It felt…strange. He’d only ever had one other person, Hashley, be as nonchalant about this as B was. It was almost as if all the weight that his little ‘secret’ had simply failed to translate over to B's sensibilities. It was such a big deal for him, why couldn’t B see that?
“Do you really mean that?” James asked with a shaky tone. “Like- really, do you actually mean that or are you just saying that to get me to shut up about it?” He had no clue why he was so desperate for a real answer. None of this was happening how he expected; how he knew it was supposed to happen; how it always happened to him.
“Yes? Sorry, I'm not quite sure on how to answer the question. I-I didn't mean to intrude in the first place- and by all accounts, no I truly wouldn't and don't mind it- it's none of my business. A-And if you need some time to compose yourself, I don't mind waiting.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” James suddenly interjected, B's apparent kindness becoming more and more incomprehensible to him. “I haven't done anything, anything but bitch, and moan, and whine and, cry and complain about everything, everything you've done in order to try and help me! All I've done is burden you, and yet you have the strength- no- the audacity to show me sympathy?! Where do you get off, goddammit?! Where!?” James cried, bursting back out into hysterics as he banged his fists against the door. “I don't get it…” He whimpered, “I don't understand…I don't understand how you can put up with me for this long and still not hate everything about me…”

A deafening air of silence formed around the two, B too stunned to speak and James too distraught to form any coherent statements. Minutes, though they felt like hours, went by with the two simply standing in place, not knowing how to resolve anything. Eventually, B let out an anxious sigh before deciding to sit up against the door.
“Y'know…what you said earlier- about you not doing anything…that's not entirely true. You did sorta save my life back there; y'know- from that wretch and all.”
“You could've done that on your own.” James replied, “You didn't need me for that.” B let out another light sigh, “And, while, yes, I could've probably made it out of that attack alive- I would've made it out in a much worse condition. If you weren't there to shoot that wretch, who knows if I would've even had the strength to bandage myself up. All of that was thanks to you.” James stayed silent, not really knowing what to say back. He knew what the other was saying was true, but he still couldn't see how that made up for everything else.
“In truth, the reason why I was so apprehensive about you giving me any sort of medical attention after the attack was because- well, I don't like being reminded of the past very much, and that's what all my scars do. They remind me of things I don't quite like being reminded of. But, ‘cuz of you, you and your stubbornness, I was able to let those walls down- even if only for a moment. Ugh- I guess what I'm tryin’ to say is that, even though, yes, you've been annoyin’, and obnoxious and stubborn like all hell- I think you have a damn good reason to be all those things. Does that make good enough sense?”

James, still a bit stunned by everything, softly replied, “I guess so. yyeah. it…it sort of does.”
“Alright then,” B said, standing back up. “I’ll just be back here fixing up my clothes. Take all the time you need; I’m in no rush myself.” He told the other, as he walked off to the other side of the room.
‘What the FUCK was that????’ James thought, not knowing how to evaluate whatever just happened.
‘He…he didn’t- he…he opened up…to ME? He sat down and thanked ME? I…I helped him let his walls down?’ James pondered whether or not he was still dreaming, as there was no way in his mind that any of that actually happened. Not that he didn’t want it to be; it just seemed too far-fetched to him to be so. He felt his face grow warmer, like how it was when he first put on the dress. He couldn’t tell what it was from, but he guessed it was just the embarrassment from how absurd all this was.

With a sigh, James finally decided to take the dress off and put his jumper back on, shortly opening the door afterwards. He sat back on the couch he’d awoken from earlier, which by this point had felt like ages ago. He glanced over to B, who was sewing up his clothes with a needle and some thread, both most definitely coming from the pockets on his jacket.
“Y’know,” B started, “if you wanted, I wouldn’t mind carrying around that dress until we got to the frontrooms. So, maybe then, you could try it on in a less stressful environment.” He offered, still intently focused on sewing up his clothes.
“I’d say I’m surprised, but somehow I had a feeling you were going to ask me that, heh.” James joked, chuckling lightly as he turned his head to the side. “Thank you…for…everything- really- I…I don’t think I could ever say that enough.” He admitted to the other, his face flushing a soft red color as he did so.
“Eh, don't harp on it too much.” B replied, lifting his head up to face the other. “To be honest with you, the more I’ve thought about it, I think I’m more glad that I ended up going on this venture of mine with you, strange as you are. For lack of a better term, you’re a weirdo, but- an enjoyable weirdo nonetheless.”
“Oh, well, now you’re just trying to butter me up for no good reason.” More soft chuckles left his lips, as he desperately tried to wipe the embarrassed smirk off his face. B simply let out a content sigh, before going back to sewing. James thought to himself, ‘heh, well at least I'm not the only ‘enjoyable weirdo’ here, then.’

Chapter Text

A good amount of time would pass before they actually left the room. B sure wasn't exaggerating when he said, “I'm in no rush myself.” As he'd been spending all of his time since then fixing up his clothes. The slashes by themselves would've been enough trouble to try and fix, but that coupled with the intense blood stains made it seem nearly impossible to return them to their original state. The stitching was probably the easiest part of the process. B had had to re-sew his clothes back together more times than he could count throughout his time here, especially his jacket; but he hadn't had an incident this nasty in a long time. He was semi successful in cleaning up the blood, opting to try to wash it off with soap from the bathroom and some Almond Water from his pockets, for there was no washing machine to speak of. The finished result left the affected area of his coat a noticeably deeper brown, the exposed portion of his turtleneck had consequently shifted to more of a faded rose than the light beige it used to be, and the white bits of his striped long sleeve were now a pastel salmon. Thankfully for the last one, only the sleeves were visible.

With a tired, yet triumphant sigh, B proceeded to carefully unwrap his bandages. Unsurprisingly, the front portion was completely enveloped by blood. So deep and thick he could've sworn that it had grown by a pound in weight since James had first put it on him, at least that's what it felt like. Tracing his fingers around where the wretch had struck him, he expected to feel the same coarse texture that all his scars left on his skin; but, strangely, he felt nothing of the sort. In fact, it felt “normal.” Perplexed, he rushed over to the bathroom mirror to see that it had nearly entirely disappeared from his skin, only leaving a few trace scabs across his former wound.
‘Maybe it's cuz’ I fell asleep?’ B thought, ‘or that it was just caught early? Or both maybe?’ He tried to rationalize it out. ‘Was that really all I needed to get it to go away? To just…rest? Was that why it always seemed like my scars never healed properly? Why they were always so noticeable? I…no. Control yourself Backrooms Explorer. Now is not the time for this. You've got things to do, stop wastin’ time.’ He took a couple of deep breaths before finally putting his clothes back on. They were still a bit wet. He tried paying it no mind, despite how uncomfortable he knew it made him feel. “Beggars can't be choosers,” he'd tell himself whenever he got to feeling like that. It wasn't ideal, but nothing here was; and if he ever wanted that to change, he'd just have to deal with it.

On his way out of the bathroom, B noticed James's dress folded neatly atop the left side of the sink. Without even really thinking about it, he swiftly grabbed it and shoved it inside his bottom left pocket. James never really gave him a clear answer on his offer, but from all he'd gathered so far it seemed like the most reasonable thing to do. If he decided he didn't want it then, oh well, he would just hold on to it until he could find somewhere to discreetly dispose of it.

Walking out, he saw James sitting on the sofa, twiddling his thumbs in a distinctly nervous manner. The sudden click of the door immediately pulled James out of his intense train-of-thought. He quickly cocked his head to the side before swiftly standing, his hands moving around his sides in a frantic manner.
“S-So, er- hey- about the er-uh-erm the whole dress thing. I uhm-erm-I-er I've decided that, yes, I'd- erm- I'd a-appreciate it if…i-if you carried it around ffor me!...” James told the other in a rather flustered manner. He was visibly a bit red faced, doing these little motions with his hands, trying to convey his wants to B.

“Oh, no need. I already got it. Thought you were probably gonna say that anyways, so, I just went ahead while I was right next to it.” B replied in a rather nonchalant tone.
“...O-Oh, Oh!- right!- Er- t-thanks! I-I guess.” James responded, a bit stunned but too embarrassed to say anything more.
“Right, everything’s set, so I guess it's time for us to get back to looking for that maintenance door then, huh?” B asked.
“I-I guess so.” James replied, turning his head off to the side a bit, “I mean, you're the expert and all, so if you think it's a good time to leave, then I guess I do too.”
“Oh? And since when did you get so agreeable?” B playfully teased the other as he walked over to the main door, preparing to open it.
“Eheh, somewhere between the breakdown and the gut-spilling I'd assume.” James jokingly replied as B finally opened the door.

The both of them walked out of the room to find the exact same hallway from earlier, the only thing missing was the dead wretch. James hadn't forgotten the incident with the creature, he just sort of had it laying in the back of his mind. He was still a bit baffled as to why it garnered such a strong reaction from him after everything had settled. He guessed it was just because he thought about it too much; that everything had already put him under so much stress that it just helped push him all the way over the edge. Thinking back to it, it was a miracle he didn't pass out the moment it jumped on B.

“Hmm, that's odd.” B muttered to no one in particular.
“What's odd?” James asked.
“It seems that the level's layout never changed while we were resting. We were out for ’couple hours at least, it should've rearranged itself by now.” B explained.
“Hey, wait a minute! Where'd the wretch go?” James piped up.
“Oh, well it probably just no clipped into the void; dead bodies don't tend to stay put for very long.” B answered, beginning to walk down the hall.
“The void?” James asked, trailing behind.
“Oh!- right, I keep forgetting you're not familiar with any of this.” B replied. “The void is the in-between areas of all the levels, an all consuming mass of nothingness that, mostly, exists outside of human comprehension. Technically, we've already been there; if only for a moment. The void itself is actually what allows for no clipping to occur in the first place. It's actually pretty interesting, the mechanics of how everything works. While still a budding wing of research, I think, at the very least, further study into the field would do wonders in gaining a better understanding of the Backrooms as a whole.” B finished, turning back over to James, who was just sort of staring at him with a blank expression. “I mean- yeah, that's probably everything you'll ever need to know about the void.” B quickly added in a flustered manner. He swiftly whipped his head forward, eyeing the walls as they continued to walk.

Their conversation had stopped for a bit after that. The two of them now walking together in an awkward silence, before James nervously asked, “When you said that, ‘dead bodies don't tend to stay put for very long,’ did you mean all dead bodies, or just entities, or…?” Before quickly adding, “S-Sorry, if that came off a bit strong! It just…got me thinking.”
“All bodies.” B replied, “Entities, humans, animals, anything. Any and all life that dies here will eventually end up in the void.”
“Oh…” James shakily responded, a quiet, yet audible gulp emanated from his throat. B perked up at the sudden change in his tone, quickly coming to the realization that he unintentionally just added even more existential dread to James's already poor mental state, and right after he'd finally started coming to terms with his situation.
In a bit of a panic, B sporadically added, “Hey, you're not gonna die, alright? I-I mean, you will die- one day- we all will- b-but not- but not- not here! I-I mean, we're almost halfway there, so we don't even have t-that much longer to go!” He tried and- well- failed at making the other feel better about what he had said.
James sighed, “Ugh, sorry, I don't know what I was expecting you to answer that question with, besides from what you did, anyways.” Looking off to the side, he continued, “I guess…I guess I was just hoping that maybe I wouldn't be entirely forgotten if things were to go south. That at least I'd die with my body at rest, but I guess getting out is really my only hope of resolving anything, is it?” More silence ensued as they walked, B not sure what to say back.

“Ugh, sorry, again.” James re-broke the silence.
“You don't need to be sorry.” B replied, “I get it, y'know? I get it being hard to not think of the worst all the time, ‘specially ‘bout death. With all of that said though…I really did mean what I said. You're not gonna die; not if I have anything to say about it."
James let out a small, whimpery chuckle as he tilted his head over to B. “Thanks.” He said, a shy smile forming on his face. “It's kind of funny, y'know?” James began, “That not even, what? Less than a day ago now, I don't think I ever could've pictured you saying something like that; not to me at least.”
“Well, y'know, saving someone's life does tend to improve their opinion of you pretty quickly.”
“Heh, I guess it does. I bet you would know a lot about that, huh?” James jokingly added.
“What? Savin’ people? Heh, yeah, I guess you could say that I've… dabbled in a bit of heroism myself. Y'know, like when I saved you from that bacteria back on level one. I never got any thanks for that one.” B smugly remarked.
“Oh, contraire my friend, for, you see, the dictionary definition of heroism requires that one is intrinsically selfless in their actions, therefore you shouldn't need my external validation to feel fulfilled in yours.” James playfully commented back.
“Oh, so we're friends, but not friends enough to thank each other when one of us so kindly rescues the other from their certain demise, huh? I see how it is.” B smirked, crossing his arms in a teasing manner.
“I-... I-I mean- that's not what I- w-what I meant!- I-” James started as he realized what he had said, awkwardly trying to take it back.
“Oh? So, we're not? What are we then exactly, James? I'm getting mixed signals over here.”
“I-I mean, i-if- if that's what you'd like to call…this, I-I wouldn't be against it.”

“Friends” was an extremely loaded word for James. It wasn't something he tended to throw out all willy-nilly like that. He only ever bestowed that title onto people who had somehow managed to form a deep emotional connection with him. That was probably why he only had two of them. James never really saw the point in “casual friendship.” The closest he ever got to that was being fake nice to all of his co-workers, and that was probably the most miserable thing about his job. At least he could sass back the kids or send them away if it got too much for him, but he just had to sit and bear all those jackasses. He couldn't imagine trusting any of them with something even remotely personal… But he supposed B was a bit different than that.

“Oh, and that's what you want, isn't it?”
“N-No! Er, I-I mean, not- not in the sense that that's what- what I want it's just that- y'know- I wouldn't not want that and…and…and…ugh, fffine! Yes!…a little bit."
“See, now was that so hard?”
“Ugh, you don't have to be a jackass about it.”
James paused for a moment, intently thinking of what to say next. He'd already dug himself this hole deep enough, there was no hope of turning back now.
“...So…would you be open to that, or…?” He asked, tapping his fingers together in a nervous manner.
“I don't know, depends. Are you open to giving me my thanks?” B smugly responded.
“Oh!- you!-...ugh, alright.” James replied, rolling his eyes as he began to clear up his throat in an exaggerated manner. “Oh, great B, I am so, so, so eternally grateful to you for saving my poor, poor little twink life. Where would I be in this world without you? Dead, probably.”
Out of what seemed like nowhere to James, B suddenly bursted out into a heavy fit of laughter. Sure, he was trying to be funny, but he didn't think it was that funny. However, he didn't really feel like stopping the other. It was kind of amusing to be completely honest; how long would it take before he'd run out of steam?

About half a minute later he'd finally calmed down a bit, desperately trying to catch his breath.
“Eheh-ha- oh- ha- s-sorry, I- ha- I don't know what came over me. I-I just- I wasn't expecting that- eheh!” B exclaimed, wiping away a tear.
“Christ, you laugh like you haven't heard a real joke in fifty years.” James cracked back.
“Heh, yeah…” B replied, looking over to the side.
“Y'know…” James started, “I guess now is as good a time as any to apologize to you- for how I acted before. So, sorry for all of that, I guess.” he ended, his face getting a bit flushed in the process.
“Thanks,” B replied, a soft smile crossing his face, “I appreciate it. Though, to be fair, “he continued, “I didn't really give you any time to process what was going on before and after the bacteria attack. So, in retrospect, I can't be that mad at you. You were just scared and confused; I won't blame you for that.”
“Heh, yeah I-I guess.” James responded, his eyes drifting off to the side before noticing something peculiar. “Hey, what's up with that door?” He asked, before he saw B's eyes light up in pure glee.

Chapter Text

“Oh, finally!” B abruptly exclaimed. “I thought we were gonna be here forever!” He sighed, excitedly running up to the strange door. It looked old, not antique though; It wasn’t pristinely kept the same way everything else was, more like it had been left to rot for an entire century. Shoddily boarded up with frail looking planks and weak rusty nails, it was giving every warning sign to not be entered. Looking up a bit, he noticed a sign right above it. It read, “MAINTENANCE HALLS: STAFF ONLY”
‘Oh mein Gott, we're going in there aren't we?’ James thought as he looked back down at B, who was in the process of pulling out an entire fucking axe from one of his pockets.

James sighed, muttering, “Denn warum sollte er das nicht einfach haben? Was kommt als nächstes? Ein verdammter Toaster?”
“Weißt du, ich kann verstehen, was du sagst, oder?” B suddenly responded, a smug grin crossing his face as he raised his axe to the door. James, though a bit stunned, tried his best to say something back in the moment, before being swiftly interrupted by the sound of the axe's sharp metal head colliding with the flimsy boards of the door.
“Riiight, ffforgot you knew Deutsch.” James muttered again in a much more embarrassed tone.
“Oh, trust me, I know a lot more than just German.” B responded, continuously swinging at the boards until they completely fell, along with that, the door behind had been left with a hole just big enough for his hand to fit through.
“Oh, really? And how much is ‘a lot’ to you, exactly?” James asked, genuinely a bit curious, but trying to hide it through his own perceived asshole-ish nature.
“Well, if you simply must know,” B started as he stuck his hand through the hole. “I would say that I'm currently fluent in about…eh, twenty-five languages?”
“Jesus Christ!” James blurted out in surprise. “F-Fluently??” he added.
“Oh, well- I mean it's not that impressive. It's mainly just for convenience. Makes it easier to talk to wanders, y'know?” B replied, a sudden metallic click began emanating from the other side of the door, before he pulled his hand back out.
“No, I'd say that that's pretty- really impressive, actually. What are those twenty-five languages, anyways?” James asked.
“Hmm,” B began, as he turned around, starting to dig through another one of his pockets. “Let's see, there's English, Japanese, Spanish, Dutch, French, Italian, Swedish, Arabic, Sardinian, Romanian, Latin, Greek, Korean, Mandarin, Welsh, Gaelic, Hindi, Bengali, Swahili, Russian, Ukrainian, Icelandic, Nahuatl, Tagalog, aaand Czech…Oh!- And ASL! So, twenty-six actually.” he ended, continuing to reach around in his pocket.
“Christ, where’d you even get the time to learn all of that?”
“Heh, well, when you've been here as long as I have, you tend to find yourself with a whole lotta of spare time on your hands.”
“And how long is that, hmm?” James playfully egged on.
B seemed to momentarily freeze up at the question, catching him very much off guard. “Uh, w-well…uh-” He stammered before finally pulling out two respirator masks from his pocket. “Oh- there we are!” He shakily interjected himself as he handed one over to James. “It’d be best if you kept your breathing to a minimum. The air in these halls have an ambiguous level of toxicity in them at any given time. I know it isn’t much, but it’s the best protection I have at the moment.” He told James whilst strapping on his own mask. James simply gave another sigh and eye roll before putting on his own. He could only sarcastically respond to everything with, “Because of course it is,” so many times before it got old. At this point he would just be beating a dead horse. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest; in fact, he was a bit shocked it wasn’t anything worse.

B then opened the door, shortly grabbing a flashlight from one of his pockets afterwards. He flicked it on, expecting the internal bulb to come with it. However, no such thing happened. He raised an eyebrow, before repeatedly turning it on and off to no avail. With a sigh, he reached back in, rummaging around for some batteries. He stood there, incessantly looking for these ever elusive batteries, for well over two whole minutes; until, finally, James intercepted. Tracing his fingers around the side of his visor, he simply offered the other, “If you can’t get it to come on, I could always just use my night vision.” He finished, pressing down on the button, his eyes changing from a plain white to a bright green.
“Your what?” B asked, stopping his search and turning around to face the other.
“Yeah? Did I never tell you that’s what the green eyes are for?”
“No?? I didn’t really know you had any control over that; just that it sorta happened sometimes.”
“Well, I do. So, at least you won’t have to worry about keeping your flashlight charged anymore, right?” James awkwardly added.
“Hmm, I guess so.” B replied, putting his flashlight up.
“Least I don't have to worry about buying batteries anymore.” He joked, stepping forward into the hall, holding his hand out to the other behind as he did so.
“What are you doing?” James asked, slightly confused.
“Holding my hand out for you to grab.”
“You want me to hold your hand?” James asked again in a bit of a condescending manner.
“Well, you did sorta agree to be my eyes, so It'd be best for the both of us if we stayed as close as possible to each other. Unless you're in the mood for getting totally separated or accidentally stumbling into another sub-level.” B smugly remarked.
James rolled his eyes again before reluctantly putting his hand to the other’s. He had never really been a big fan of prolonged- or hell, even short form physical contact, but at the very least B, thankfully, wore gloves. They were cold and leathery; a bit unnerving, but ultimately much more comfortable than bare hands would've ever been.

“Eh, I guess not. Though, I don't seem to remember you taking this much precaution last time we went off into some dark hallway.” James joking replied back.
“Well, it seems to me that I didn’t have as much stake in you back then as I do now.” B responded, beginning the trek forward.
“Fair enough.” James shrugged, following him.

About a minute into their walk, James noticed that the path ahead was about to fork. “Hey, stop for a second.” B slowed, “What for?” He asked, before coming to a complete stop. James looked up to see two signs above each door frame. The one on the left was labeled “Broiler Room” and the one on the right was labeled “Emergency Exit.”
“Go left.” James quickly answered. B simply nodded his head in response, and walked in the direction the other had advised him to. They continued until they finally happened upon the light once again. Everything within the Boiler Room seemed to be coded in a thick layer of dust, rust, and grime, like it had been left to rot for over a century. The room was dimly lit, with barely operational bulbs constantly flickering overhead, giving James a strange sense of impending doom. He kept his free hand tightly clenched around itself, stuffing it down into his pocket; whilst tightening the other’s grip on B’s. B himself was utterly unphased as per usual, determinately marching through the claustrophobic corridors as James sheepishly followed along.

They walked around aimlessly for what felt like hours, finding and checking identical doors over and over again. Their mutual anticipation grew with each find, only to die upon opening it to see nothing of want on the other side. James couldn’t even complain about it. I mean, he could if he really wanted too, but he simply valued living more. Though, he supposed that B’s company did keep his nerves a little less shot than they would’ve been otherwise. Most of him still couldn’t fully wrap his head around the fact that they were on friendly terms now, and the rest of him flat out refused to believe B was being genuine at all. The feeling nagged at his mind, a little voice in his head regurgitating all his worst fears back to him ad nauseam. He tried his best to keep it from festering, but with nothing to distract himself with, it was all he could think about.

‘What if he is lying?’ James thought, ‘He has more a reason to be faking than not. Most of the thoughts running through my head during my breakdown were pretty exaggerated. If he’s been here so long to the point where nothing phases him, why in the world would he drop a chance at guaranteed free housing over some cross-dressing? Nobody in their right mind would ever do something that irrational! B could be the best liar in the entire Backrooms, and would I ever know? No! I wouldn’t! I don't even know him!’ He let that last statement ruminate in his head a little longer than anything else. ‘What do I even know about B?’ James pondered, ‘What? He’s been here for awhile, got a bunch of scars all over him, he’s got weird physics defying pockets, he speaks a shit ton of languages, and he’s…a nark? That's all I know. Oh, you fucking dumb-shit! Of course he’s pretending to be your friend, dumbass! The contrary is such an anomalous conclusion that the sheer statistical improbability of it would drive me insane trying to convince myself of it!’

Suddenly, James felt B gently squeeze his hand. Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked up to see that they had come across another door. He looked on with baited breath, hoping that this would be the final one. B placed his hand on the rusted metal handle of the door, and opened it at a mild-mannered pace. The door fully opened only to reveal a disturbing sight at the end of the next room. A tall, gangly amalgamation of what seemed to be skin- human skin, hung up on a spindly, almost skeletal, frame. Its bright, beady, white eyes locked themselves on to the two in mere seconds, suddenly charging towards them at a rapid pace. B quickly slammed the door, before sprinting off in a different direction, James still in hand.

This encounter wasn't nearly as frightening as the last couple. Now, it wasn’t a pleasant experience by any means, it was still the third most terrifying thing to ever happen to him. It was just that the gut punch to his nerves hurt a little less this time around. A bit after running off, the sudden sound of the door slamming open rang through the halls, followed by what was assumed to be the disturbed cry of the creature, continuing into what sounded like the rapid scuttling of its feet. As they ran, B reached into a pocket, quickly pulling out an empty can of Almond Water. He hurriedly looked around for somewhere to throw it, thankfully coming upon a three way split in their path. Swiftly, he chucked the bottle down the middle path, before quickly tip-toeing down the right. They eventually happened upon a large boiler, which they mutually decided to hide behind. It was rusted over and completely inactive; the perfect hiding spot to listen out for that thing.

They began intently listening out for the entity; both riddled with anticipation and fear. A couple minutes in, B finally took his hand from James, and proceeded to hold both of them up, shortly beginning to sign something out with them. James simply tilted his head in confusion as he whispered, “Is- is that…sign language? I don’t speak- or- I don’t know sign language, B.” B’s facial expressions flattened, before pulling out a small notebook, a pen hanging from its side. Flipping through to a blank page, he began to write something down, shortly showing it to James. It read, “I think it’s gone. What about you?” James nodded, as the two decided to continue walking.

They once again found themselves holding hands, not for any reason in particular, just because it felt good. Even if James still did have his suspicions, he knew it would be much more sustainable for him to act as if he didn’t. They continued to walk around aimlessly for what felt like hours. The further in they got, the more disorganized everything became. Wires and pipes hung from the ceiling by threads, while the overhead lights incessantly flickered, causing everything to be in a constant state of blindness indusing light one second and incomprehensible darkness the next. It seemed as though even B had begun to grow tired of this. His pace had gone from a steadfast march to an evidently impatient one, making sharp turns at every corner, along with quickly opening and closing every door they came across.

James too grew more and more antsy as time passed, increasingly looking over his shoulders in order to make sure nothing was behind. Eventually, they came upon a room, which was surrounded on all sides by nothing but more doors; all presumably leading in completely different directions. B clenched his fingers around the bridge of his nose and sighed, soon grabbing another bottle of Almond Water from his pocket to drink, presumably as some sort of self sustaining regulatory mechanism. Most of the doors were already opened, with the same pseudo-strobe effect flashing in nearly all of them. James just stood there, mindlessly scanning the room. His eyes eventually came to meet the door on his direct right. For a moment, he thought he’d seen something move within the brief flashes of light. A jittery, unfinished picture that never seemed to fully realize itself. James felt as though it would disappear with every blink, then reappear with the next. At first, he didn’t think that much of it, chalking it up to his eyes playing tricks on him from all the stress they’d been under. Up until the light seemed to persist for just a second longer, beady, little, white eyes staring back at him.

James’s blood went cold as he realized what he was actually looking at; it was the thing from earlier. That thing with the skin- it followed them- it followed them! Wide eyed and mouth agape, he began to tug at B’s sleeve. He wasn’t sure how this thing operated, but from how it seemed to be stalking them, it was safe for him to assume that sudden movements would only trigger it to attack. B sighed, before mindlessly blurting out, “Ugh, what is it, James?” And almost as if the beast had been called out too, it pounced. It charged at James, grasping its boney hand towards his face, instead managing to grab a hold of his visor. B wasted no time getting the hell out of there, gripping the other by the hand, sprinting down a random door, and not looking back. James simply dragged behind B, too stunned and shocked to do anything else. He desperately tried to keep his composure as his eyes and body only got further away from each other.

The creature stealing his eyes allowed James to get a real time close up look of it, not that he was really a fan. Its hands seemed to be covered in thousands of tiny suckers, like an octopus or something. It soon realized that the visor wasn’t actually made out of flesh, dropping it to go chase after its real targets. This left James’s vision perpetually stuck staring up at the flashing ceiling lights, forcing him to shut them as tight as possible in order to even think properly. Back with his body, he had no idea where he was going. He covered his face with his free hand as his legs flailed around in some desperate attempt to keep up with the B, who was too preoccupied with not dying to notice the state his companion was in.

About a minute into running, B slid behind another corner; to catch his breath, yes, but also to listen out for the entity. He’d lost track of where it was, and he wasn’t too keen on becoming vulnerable and finding it again later, because they probably weren’t getting that lucky again for a while. Peeking his head around the corner, he heard James begin to speak. The other weakly called out his name with a shaky pitch. B sighed lightly, “James, I don't think this is the best time to start-” he stopped mid-sentence as he turned to face the other. Confused, his grip on James's hands lightened, causing the other to retract it back up to his face. It didn't take long for B to figure out that the entity was most likely responsible for this. It had gotten deathly close to the other before they started running, he was a bit surprised that that was the only thing that came off; morbid as that is.

James stood there, back against the wall, shaking, hyperventilating and occasionally mumbling some barely audible diatribes to himself. However, the thing that seemed to baffle B the most was the apparent lack of blood coming from James’s supposed injury. He didn't seem to be in any physical pain either; no groans or grunts from having half his face torn off, just meak shivering. An unstable mix of curiosity and panic took B over as he vacuously reached his hand out to the other's face, simply hoping to get a better look at the other's injuries, or so he thought.

As soon as James felt B's rough leather gloves touch his trembling hands, he jerked back and began shaking his head in a rapid, unsteady manner, falling to ground shortly after, before putting his head between his knees. An anxious sweat broke out over B's body as he heard the distance growls of what could have only been the entity.
“James, James! This isn't the time for this! I know it hurts, but it'll hurt a lot more if that skin stealer catches up to us!” He frantically whispered-yelled at the other, desperate to get him up.
James paid the other's pleas no mind, for he was too lost in his own doom-spiral to pay attention to anything else. He continued muttering to himself, seeming to give up any hope of escape. B was about ready to pick the other up by force, but he was caught off guard by something James mumbled. Most of what he’d said had been almost completely inaudible to B, but this seemed different. James weakley muttered, “W-Why won't it j-just ddddiiisconnect already?...I hate th-these lights, www-why won’t they jj-just stop…”
B raised an eyebrow, “You can still see?” he swiftly asked, an air of urgency lining his voice. The other’s head perked up slightly at the question, hands still clenched around where his eyes used to be. He began nodding his head at a rapid pace, the rest of him still jittery and uncoordinated as ever. B’s mind raced with questions about what that even meant, but he couldn’t ruminate on it for too long. The distant snarls of the entity had only grown closer with each passing seconds with no signs of stopping. “Do you know where it's at?” B asked.
“Where- where it attacked us- i-it's still on the ground…” The other whimpered. B let out a determined sigh before kneeling down to the other, “I'm going back for it. You stay here, alright? Stay here and don't move till I'm back. Not a sound, got it?” James violently nodded his head, before the other went speeding off into the labyrinth of rust.

It wasn't hard for B to remember the path he'd taken from that panorama room, even in the panicked state he was. It also didn't take long for the skin stealer to catch wind of where he was, the distant clanking of claws on metal began to echo throughout the entire level as it followed, but that was expected. It was what he was planning on. To just get a clear shot on that thing's head, and It'll go down easier than most hounds will. For all their agility and cunning, skin stealers had one major flaw. ‘Human skin ain't too good at reflectin’ bullets.’ B thought, before pulling out a pistol from one of his pockets. He needed James's visor back, and he wasn't going to stop at anything to retrieve it; unless he wanted James to be stuck in utter catatonia for the foreseeable future, which he evidently didn't. Sure, he wasn't denying the fact that the visor itself was an extremely useful device, automatic night vision and all, but he wasn't completely sure on how it even operated either. He figured from the few bits and pieces of information James had vaguely gestured about, it had to do with some medical issues pertaining to his eyes.
‘What was it that he said when we first got to level five? Somethin’ like, “A long time ago something happened to me, and now my eyes have-’ what was it- ‘ceased their functionality?” Yeah, that sounds like somethin’ he’d say.’ B thought to himself half-jokingly, before finally coming upon the room he was looking for. He cautiously stepped inwards, looking intently down every hall to make sure it wasn't going to get the jump on him again. Sure enough, he soon spotted the entity down a hall diagonal of himself. The intense flickering of the lights made it hard to see, but he could tell it was there. The menacing look of its little, beady, white eyes weren't something easily forgotten. Turning his attention towards the floor, he finally saw James's visor laying innocuously in the center of the room. As he got closer, the entity's head seemed to twitch and convulse with each step. He held his gun behind his back, as to not provoke it anymore than it already had been. After what felt like hours of meticulously inching himself towards the center, he finally grabbed a hold of the other's eyes. Before he even had the chance to securely store them in a pocket, the skin stealer came barreling towards him. At that moment, B pulled his pistol out from behind his back and shot the thing clear through it's shoulder. He was hoping to get a shot off through its head, but it moved too quickly for that to be viable, and he'd much rather hit something than nothingl.

The entity was momentarily stunned by the bullet, screeching in pain as it clawed at the wound. B once again aimed his pistol, this time fully intending to strike it straight through the head. However, to B’s dismay, nothing happened. The gun was jammed. Just his luck, jammed gun with a skin stealer right in his cross-hairs. He immediately turned on a dime as soon as he realized, bolting back down the halls as fast as he could; the entity not letting up either.

Meanwhile, back with James, the endless barrage of flashing lights had turned into a sporadic swaying from the hall to the floor. It made him feel nauseous, like he was being vigorously shook on a busted ferris wheel. Up and down, and up and down, over and over again; until, suddenly, B pulled his visor up to his own face. He was intending to check it for any major damages, briefly forgetting the fact that the other could, y’know, see out of it. James’s eyes were now these cartoony swirls that spun with an equal fortitude to B's own running speed. B asked the other, “You there James?” However, James couldn’t hear anything he said on account of his ears being several hundred feet away. He didn’t even really register the other was talking to him until he noticed how unusually fixated his eyes were, staring intently, waiting for some type of answer. James, exhausted as he was, had just enough mental strength left in him to spell out the words, “I,” “Can’t,” “Hear,” “Ears,” “Too,” “Far,” “Away.” on his visor.
“Oh! Right!- right that- that makes sense.” The other responded, even though James still couldn’t hear him.

About a minute later, the two had finally reunited. Though, it was incredibly short. As soon as B handed James his visor, he grabbed him by hand and continued running. James didn’t say anything to the sudden jerking of his body, he expected as much at this point. He’d rather that than be without his visor ever again. He was more thankful than words alone could describe. I mean, he knew why he did it. ‘I would be utterly useless without my visor, even more than I already am,’ he thought. ‘It was the most logical thing to do,’ James reasoned. ‘He didn’t do it out of any real concern; just for stability’s sake,’ he concluded.

Then, suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, B spotted something. A fuzzy dash of rectangular darkness barely grazing the edge of his vision. The door they’d been looking for oh-so long, right there- right in front of their faces! B stopped everything and turned at an almost perfect 90-degree angle. He ran down that hallway faster than he’d ran from that skin stealer. His heart pounding with anticipation, he thought it was about to burst out of his chest. He was so, so, so ready for this to be over already. It seemed, however, that his desperation had clouded his better judgment, not taking any time to scope out the entity's position before gunning straight for it. Just like that, suddenly, the skin stealer jumped out at them from one of the hall's open side panels, this time finally getting James fully within its grasp. It swiftly pinned him to the ground, the things sucker-like claws already inching their way under his skin. The pain was sinking and gradual, like a dull razor blade was being pressed against his skin before magically transforming in a hook, trying to tear his skin off by force. James was utterly unresponsive. Looking up at its white, beady eyes, he felt as if death itself was gazing back at him. Fear was such a common feeling here that it felt as if he was playing some caricature of himself every time he expressed it. It had become expected by this point, routine even. He stared down the barrel of oblivion’s gun, yet he couldn’t bring himself to react.

As the entity got ready for its final strike, B punched the thing straight across its face, taking his glove with it. It was the quickest thing he could think to do, with his jammed gun and all. James’s eyes widened in shock, he expected the other to do something but certainly not that. He figured the entity was just as shocked as he was, becoming utterly stunned in place. It was either that or B was just that strong. James didn’t have that much time to ponder it however; for as soon as he could, B picked him up and leaped to the door, finally leaving the pipe-filled labyrinth of the Boiler Rooms once and for all.

Chapter Text

The both of them fell to the floor with a loud thud. B was quick to slam the door shut after they’d got through it. No locks or blockades were needed, for the gateway between levels would disappear upon its closure. James scrambled to his knees, “M-My visor!- I-It’s broken!” he screamed, grasping at it with his hands. “I-I-I can’t- I c-can’t see anything!” he continued to cry, B soon running to his aid.

“Hey, hey, It’s not broken,” B reassured, “I can’t see either!” He said, gripping the other’s shoulder in some attempt to calm him down. James froze, not from the sudden touch, but from the abrupt manifestation of a scathing pain across his wrists and ankles. Soon, he felt a viscous liquid drip out from the aching parts of his body. It didn't take long for him to realize what it was; blood. It was blood, falling out of him at an alarmingly fast rate. His hands began to shake as he brought them down. “B!- B-B I-I’m!- m-my wrists t-t-they- they won’t s-stop!- I c-can’t stop t-them!- bleeding! I-” He began to panic, his voice getting more and more distorted with each word, before getting cut off by the other.
“Hey, hey, calm down, James. Calm down.” B interjected, as he moved his hand down James’s arm, getting right next to the wound. The fabric around the area had been torn as well, which wasn’t surprising. Messy and jagged to the touch, whatever was left of it now drenched in blood. B sighed, reaching into a pocket, before pulling out a tiny blade. “Don't panic,” he began as reached out for the other's upper arm, “I'm going to cut off your sleeve to make a tourniquet, ok?” James nodded, letting out a meek “Mh-hm,” as B began to cut.

“Ack!- m-my ankles too…” James admitted, sitting back down in a cross legged position. B sighed lightly, “Then I’ll have to cut from your pant legs too to have enough fabric, is that ok?” James nodded, “Y-Yes,” he replied as B finished tying the first tourniquet around his arm. One after another, it only took B about two minutes to finish all of them, pulling out a bottle rubbing alcohol and some gauze shortly afterwards.
“This‘ll sting a bit, just try to stay calm.” he said.
‘Yeah, ‘a bit,’ James internally scoffed as the liquid hit his wound. His face contorted as he grit his teeth and twitched his eyes. He winced and whined a little less with each application, though the feeling never got any more pleasant. James never had all that high of a pain tolerance, as much as a paper cut was enough to make him nauseous. Or, atleast, it was- at some point before all this happened. It was strange, very strange, how relatively stable he’d been as of recent. It wasn’t like him at all. Just days ago he couldn’t have imagined doing half the things he was forced to do here. All awe and all shock was gone, and it had been for awhile now. The odd scoff was all anything got anymore. Like his soul had left his body, and all that remained was his still-beating heart and logical mind, both focused on one thing and one thing only; survival. Though maybe that too was simply him being played for a fool by this place, it certainly wasn’t the first, and most definitely wouldn’t be the last time such a thing would happen.

“You think you can walk?” B asked the other once he finished applying the final bit of gauze over his wounds.
“Mhh…Yeah…” James replied, limbs still shaking from the pain.
“Because you don’t have to walk if you don’t feel up to it,” B continued.
James sighed, “How else are we supposed to keep going, then?”
“I could carry you if you want.”
“Oh, fuck off.” James blurred out, getting back to his knees. The mere suggestion made him roll his eyes in some act of annoyed defiance. He was nowhere near the mood for being ridiculed.
“I’m serious, James.” B replied, handing the other a bottle of Almond Water.
“Ugh, yeah, and I’m the queen of England; I can walk just fine!” James hissed in frustration, snatching the canister from B’s hand as he stood fully
“James, you’re in no condition to walk; I can feel as much!” B replied, cupping the other’s loose hand in his palms. “You’re shaking…more than usual.”

The gesture made James, almost instinctively, jerk away. His face, though completely obscured by the darkness that surrounded, became blanketed in a red, hot blush. “I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, stepping forward. As soon as his foot hit the floor, a sudden blistering ache made its way throughout his entire lower leg. He winced, growing nauseous the more he tried. Breath heaving, he reluctantly took a swig of the Almond Water B had handed him. The muscles in his throat tighten as the liquid made its way down. He absolutely despised the way Almond Water tasted. It was like drinking a non-alcoholic Jägermeister, all cons with not a single pro in sight. Bitter and salty, the two flavors he couldn’t stand more than anything else, blended together in some unholy amalgamation of awfulness; made just to spite him. The pain dissipated with each sip, only to flare back up every time he stepped forward.

Suddenly, his hand was grabbed again. “Hey!” B barked, “What’s the matter you?! Don’t just walk off like that! D’you know how easy it is to get lost in here?!” He rhetorically asked, obvious concern lining his voice no matter how angry he tried to sound. James simply stared out into the nothing, that’s all he could’ve done anyways. It was all just too much for him. The ache of his body, the unease of his insides, the endless shake of his limbs, the taste of the water, and the endless nothing awaited him. He pondered whether or not this was what death felt like. Whether or not he had died just minutes earlier, and this was his mind's feeble attempt at trying to process that; in whatever afterlife he may have ended up. That B was just a figment of his imagination, guiding him back along to his eventual oblivion.

James felt his head grow light as B continued to scold him. The other’s words soon became drowned out by the constant buzzing in James’s head. Then he felt it. That feeling again. That cold, sinking feeling that crawled down his spine right before a crash. But, he didn’t have the strength to react; neither did he have the strength to warn B of his impending blue screen.
“James! James, are you even listening to me?” As soon as the question left the other’s mouth, James’s visor let out a sharp buzzing sound, shortly accompanied by the sound of the Almond Water bottle hitting the floor. B froze in surprise, before feeling James’s hand slip downwards. He managed to swiftly catch the other right before he fell to the ground, hoisting him up by the hand, before leaning him against his shoulder. B sighed, “Should’ve expected that that was gonna happen sooner or later, huh?” he jokingly asked a very much passed out James; really, just thinking out loud. He groaned, thinking of what to do. “I should’ve eased him into the idea more.” B said to himself, “he was bound to be stubborn, when has he ever not been? ‘Course he was gonna do that! What were you thinking, B?” he chastised himself, the sound of James’s visor still ringing in his ears well after its end. He sighed once again, throwing James over his shoulder, and continuing on into the void ahead.

Chapter Text

“What were you thinking?” The self imposed question still rang in B's mind. It was strange, really. In his head, the suggestion seemed so benign. All he wanted to do was help his friend out, he couldn't stand listening to the other’s pain for long.
‘S'not like I wanted him to pass out.’ B thought, continuing to trudge through the void. ‘Was I too harsh on him?’ he questioned himself. ‘I don’t think I was. It was a perfectly reasonable reaction; he could’ve no-clipped completely in that amount of time!’ He rationalized, ‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘he’ll wake up eventually.’

‘Hopefully,’ the suggestion entered the back of his mind. There wasn’t any reason he’d need to worry about something like that though, right?
‘...Right?’ B asked himself, lingering on the idea for much longer than he wanted to. ‘No, no, no- you’re being too paranoid; James would’ve told you if doing that too many times was dangerous…’ His thoughts paused, “Surely?” B whispered to himself. From his, admittedly, very limited understanding of what James’s condition was, he lacked “real” eyes. That split-second glimpse he’d gotten back in the Boiler Rooms made that clear to him. Between the shivering cracks in James’s fingers, there was nothing but skin where his eyes should've been, along with what B assumed to be stitching of some kind.
‘Whatever happened to him must've been real bad.’ He thought. ‘He just seemed so…hopeless and afraid; like, when I found him in the bathroom.
That…’ His thoughts paused for a second, ‘that ain't no normal kinda fear.’ B shook his head, trying to get his mind off of it. “Urgh, quit it!” He snarled to himself. ‘S’not your business, anyways!’ He internally argued with himself. ‘Speculatin’ on his medical history isn't gonna help anyone, either.’ B concluded, picking up his pace.

Still, he worried about the possible side effects of James's “blue screening.” Hell, he didn't even fully understand why James blue screened at all. He got the general gist of it; that it usually happened when he was under a lot of stress, but even that was a bit inconsistent. He remembered, back on level five, after James had shot that wretch dead, and they were both in that hotel room, he just sorta…stared at its corpse for a bit, before completely shutting down. Thinking about his entire relationship with James more, it was honestly kind of a miracle the two of them even met in the first place, let alone stayed by each other's side for this long. Their happenstance meeting must have been about a one in a billion chance, given the unfathomable length of level zero. B thought back to the deal they made on level two, and how he was convinced that James surely would've given up by the time they got to five; yet here they both were. It was novel to him, he supposed. For so, so long It had been the same thing for B, over and over again. It was always either the trembling, lost wanderer or the cold, calculating foundation operative; but, not James, James was different. Sure, at his most simplified he was just another inexperienced wander, but he had something all the others lacked; an attitude. Every single wanderer, every single one of them were always so cooperative and eager for refuge that “getting home” would barely ever cross their minds, in the moment at least. And even if it did, B wasn't usually the one left to answer for it.

‘Maybe that was why,’ B jokingly thought to himself, ‘cuz I'm horrible at sugarcoatin’ things. Made the grimness a whole lot more apparent a whole lot sooner.’ And even then, even if B were the best liar in the entire world, he still didn't think that would've been enough to convince James not to follow him. There was something so intriguing about James that B just couldn't quite pin down. The complete and utter astonishment of how someone could be so undeniably terrified, yet so distinctly catty about every little thing at the same time absolutely baffled B to his core. Like a book he couldn’t read, yet understood anyways; paradoxical by virtue of existence, it felt freeing. It felt good.

The more his mind wandered, the more he started to think about what his life would be like if he and James actually managed to make it out of here together. He’d probably have to stay with him for a while, given how…long he’d been stuck here. It would definitely take a while to adjust, but the Frontrooms couldn’t have been that different from how they were the last time he was there. He continued, after everything was said and done, after they didn’t need each other anymore, would they still be friends? B hoped so. Honesty, he sort of dreaded the idea of having to part ways in the long term. Not even necessarily in the sense of growing apart, just, sort of generally. Then, suddenly, the idea of never leaving popped into his head. B gave a light chuckle, ‘Yeah, that'd be nice.’ he half-jokingly thought to himself. ‘Just me and him; no worryin’ bout entities, or resources or any other kinda worldly woe, just the two of us…together.’ B felt his face heat up, the words echoing in his mind, before the reality of what he was really thinking about hit him like a truck. ‘Not like that.’ He swiftly shot the subconscious suggestion down. ‘Just- like- inna…friendly way?’

“Yeaah, fffriendly…” B tried convincing himself, darting his eyes around the endless advance, trying to find any indication of the level’s end. He felt his palms grow sweaty and his throat close up, as his heart beat began to spike; not sure on whether or not to loosened or tightened his grip on James, still very much limp over his shoulders. ‘You’re bein’ ridiculous!’ He finally snapped at himself. Even if B was developing some sort of romantic inclination for James, which he definitely wasn't, what did he even have to work with? ‘Realistically, I don't even know that much about him. What? He's got some dark, tragic past? He likes to puttin’ on dresses sometimes? He's a high school teacher? Really? That's it? That's all I know?’ B pondered, trying to think up any rational explanation as to why these thoughts suddenly flooded his mind. ‘I mean, maybe it's just cuz I haven't been this involved with someone for a while! It ain't nothin’ “real,” you're just overthinkin’ things like you always do.’ B tried, and failed, to end his thoughts there. ‘Not to say that I don't like James or anythin’-’ however, his internal monologue only continued to spiral, ‘I do!- I really do, just not like that! He's smart, and funny, and resourceful, and even though he acts all cold and distant on the outside, he’s really just a socially awkward little dork on the inside; I mean, who wouldn't…fall for it, eventually?’ At that moment, B’s denial had finally reached its end. “Oh, this cannot be happenin’.” He sighed with defeat, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘C’mon, B, we’ve been over this! You promised yourself that this wouldn't happen again!’ Like a wave suddenly crashing down on him, his mind was exponentially flooded by nothing but James; how he talked, how he stood, all the little things he did with his hands whenever he was nervous. Ever intrusive, the thoughts infested each crevasse of his mind. He remembered back to right after he was attacked, and how quickly James came to his aid. How genuinely concerned and attentive he was, even if only for the sake of getting home. How gentle he was on his wounds, and how he didn't stare or ask about any of his other scares. Internal visions, fantasies even, of the two embracing one another in sublime tranquility. His arms strewn across James's shoulders, as they stared deeply into each other's eyes. Slowly, but surely, their faces inching closer and closer together, until…

The feeling was so intense B wanted to break something. He kept shaking his head in some vain attempt to get his mind off of it; but, the more he wished for the thoughts to leave, the clearer they got. ‘What am I gonna do when he wakes up??’ B questioned himself in panic, speeding up to the point of running. ‘God knows I can't just tell him! I don't know how'd he'd even react to that. Hell, I don't even know if he's interested in men like that! I mean, sure, he called himself a “twink,” but he clearly wasn't very serious about it! Besides, it’d put our mission in too much jeopardy! It’d make him do somethin’ stupid, no matter how he felt, it always did!’ B suddenly stopped dead in his tracks as he realized a solution to his problem. ‘That’s it!’ he internally exclaimed, catching his breath as he did so, ‘I’ll just focus on gettin’ him home. That should be able to distract me for long enough. Just- keep the personability to a minimum; not enough for him to notice, but just enough for nothin’ to go wrong.’ B concluded, reaching into one of his pockets for a bottle of Almond Water.

As B finished his final sip, he heard a tired groan erupt from behind. James was finally waking up. B quickly placed the now empty bottle back in his pocket, picking the other up off his shoulder. As he firmly placed James back onto his feet, he kept his hands on the other's waist, trying his best to make sure he didn't fall over again.
“J-James? Are you awake? Can you hear me?” B asked, nervousness coding his voice.
James simply let out another groan, “Nghh…B?” He groggily asked.
“Did I?-” James continued, before getting cut off.
“Blue screen? Yeah, you did.” B swiftly replied.
“Mhh, I'm guessing we're still on level six then, huh?”
“Yep.” B replied, before feeling a sudden pressure on his arms. “Those are yours, right?” James asked, a nervous tint in his voice. B eyes shot wide as he quickly retracted his hands. “Y-Yeah- yeah, s-sorry- sorry- It's just- you just woke up, and I didn't want you to fall over, or no-clip or-”
“Whoa, slow down there,” James interjected, locking hands with B, “You're fine.” B felt as if his heart were going a million miles per hour inside of his chest. His body heated and his stomach churned, as he thanked whatever god was out there for letting this happen on level six.

However, James shortly retracted his from the other’s ungloved hand. “Ach Du meine Güte, your hands are sweaty." He remarked, soon adding, “That worried about me, huh?” in a playful tone.
“Huh? O-Oh, yeah, I- uhm- guess so, hehe.” B awkwardly forced out, trying his best to keep his composure. “Uhm, how about your legs? Do they feel any better?” He swiftly interjected, desperate to change the subject. He shortly heard an annoyed sigh from the other, “…Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” B further prodded. “Ugh, yes, I am sure.” James replied in an aggravated, slowed down tone. B simply raised an eyebrow and cocked his head in response; and despite lacking vision, James could tell he was getting that look. The silence deafened as the two stood, both waiting for some sort of response from the other.

Eventually, James let out another sigh, “I'm not just being stubborn, ok? My legs do really feel fine now.” a vague remorse lining his voice. “Fuck, I'm sorry, alright?” He suddenly blurted out, “I just- ugh- I just thought you were being a jackass for no reason early, ok?”
“Why would I?-” B began before swiftly getting cut off, “You wouldn't, and I know that- I knew that- but, I was just so out of it, and- I don't know- I guess I was just so overwhelmed by everything that my stubborn little mind couldn't comprehend the idea that you actually meant it- or- something like that?” James spilled, tightening his grip on the other's hand.
“Hey,” B began, “I believe you, alright? I was just making sure.” He paused for a second, taking a deep breath before continuing, “You scared me early.” B admitted, looking off to the side, though he knew it didn't make any difference. “You nearly died right in front of me; I just wanted to help you ease off some stress. Then you just let go of me, in here no less. I panicked. I haven't been that scared in a long time…” B concluded, shifting his gaze forward.

James didn't say anything back; instead, he gently squeezed the other's hand to signify his understanding.
“How about you then?” B shortly asked, motioning his body forward “Shall we?”
“God, I thought you'd never ask.” James replied, following close behind, continuing through the void once more.

Chapter Text

The abyssal advance of level six never got any easier for James to comprehend as he stared into it. He would reach his free hand up to his visor every minute or so, just to make sure it was still there. Logically, there was no reason for it to fall off, checking was more a nervous habit than a necessary action. It kept his nerves in place at the very least, and that was all that seemed to really matter.

The two didn't talk much more as they continued. B explained that this level's exit could only be found through the faint sounds of the next one's beginning; so, they would need to be as quiet as possible to hear it. The mostly wordless slog of the Boiler Rooms put James on such edge that he was honestly kind of hoping level six would have allowed him and B to more freely converse with each other. Weird as it sounded, James missed listening to the other’s voice. It was strangely soothing to him. Mainly, how he would go on these long tangents about the apparent mechanics of the Backrooms, then get really embarrassed when he realized that's what he was doing. It made James smirk a little every time it happened; it sort of reminded him of how he was whenever he got to talking about his special interests. James also came to notice how B would get this very apparent American Southern drawl to his voice sometimes. He’d skip the “g” when pronouncing a bunch of “-ing” words, and the “is’s” and, “a's,” and “the’s” in a lot of his sentences would just blend into the other words around them. It wasn't constant, though; it would slip in and out like he was doing a voice. Maybe it was just his weird way of trying to lighten the mood. James was always kind of bad at telling whether or not anything was a joke, so it wasn't the strangest possibility in his head.

What felt like hours went by before James even felt the slightest change. B suddenly tensed up for a couple of seconds, before sharply turning to the right. His pace quickened, causing James to slightly stumble; however, he kept up nonetheless. After minutes of senselessly jogging forward, James began to hear what sounded like the distant noise of flowing water. The muffled sound of waves sloshing into each other only became more and more clear the closer they got. Until he saw it. A sudden rectangular outline of faint light came into his field of vision. It was the first thing he'd been able to see in hours, not counting all the time he was passed out. B began to fully sprint forward, as did James, getting ever so close with each step forward. It had a near dreamlike quality to it, for James at least. It seemed to never get any closer until he was right up to it. But the moment itself was short lived by B quickly running inside and slamming the door behind them. He near immediately backed up against the wall, sliding down with an exhausted sigh. Looking up at James, B noticed something odd; he still had the respirator mask on. Bringing his own hand up to his face, B came to the same discovery. He sighed once again, “figures,” as he began to take it off. He could see James's bright white eyes position themselves like he had an eyebrow raised.
“You can take the mask off.” B simply replied, “We didn't need them for level six. I guess I just forgot about them,” he concluded, stuffing it in a pocket. James also let out a sigh, “Probably from all the stress of almost dying.” He added, removing his mask and handing it back over to B.

Looking off to the side, James noticed a rusty upwards metal staircase. “Is that where we're going next?” He asked, pointing back to it with his thumb. B leaned his head back with another sigh, “Yeah… So,” he began, standing back up, “I’m being straight with you when I ask this- but what are your feelings on large bodies of water?” James cocked his head in a quizzitive manner, “Erm, fine as long as I don’t have to be in them, why?” he asked, feeling some kind of vague dread mount upon him. “Alright, so, this level, seven, is made of almost nothing but water. Those stairs lead up to a flooded bunker, beyond that is an entire ocean, and to get to the next we have to-.”
“Don’t tell me we’re swimming,” James sharply interjected.
“God no,” B quickly responded, a faint nervous giggle in his tone, “you’d have to be a mad man to even attempt something like that. Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it covered.” he assured as he began up the stairs. James followed closely behind, “How exactly?” he asked, sounding worried but more curious than anything. “You’ll see,” B simply responded, beginning to dig through one of his pockets. Though the statement didn't give James much confidence, he went along with it anyways, trusting B knew what he was doing.

As the two ascended the staircase, everything around them started to become much clearer. What were once the vague outlines of things provided by the glow of James’s visor, became fully visible once again. They soon reached the “bunker,” as B called it, in what felt like only a minute or so. Looking out towards it, James could see chairs, tables and even an entire couch near completely submerged in water. Guesstimating a bit, it seemed around a little under waist high, for himself at least. Further to the back, he could see what looked like an open door. Water poured out of it constantly, yet the bunker never seemed to get any more shallow. Glancing back over to B, James watched as he pulled out what appeared to be a small cube shaped device from his pocket. It was no bigger than his palm, with a big red obvious button square in the middle of it. B stared down at the water beneath for a moment, before pressing the button and throwing the cube forward. Dropping down with a splash, the device bobbed on the surface for a couple of seconds before suddenly expanding into a fully formed raft.

B swiftly planted his heel down on the raft's edge as he began to dig back through two pockets at once. James stepped closer, “I expected something more flashy,” he said in an obviously joking tone. “Like what?” B responded, a light smile across his face. “Well, I don't know, you made it sound like you had some crazy shit you didn't want to freak me out with; like that cube was going to instantly evaporate all the water on the level- or something like that.”
B let out a small chuckle, “Think I'm that advanced, huh?” He rhetorically asked, before continuing, “Besides, that wouldn't make it easier cuz we need a whirlpool to get to the next level, anyways.” He finished, pulling out an entire oar from each pocket, “catch,” B casually said before tossing one over to James. Quickly yet awkwardly grabbing it by both his hands, James looked down to see B slightly bent over with his hand out towards the boat. With a wink he gestured, “Ladies first,” a playfully smug smile across his face. James was taken aback for a second; he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He couldn't tell if B was referencing what happened on level five or if he was just using a common English phrase because it sounded funny in the moment. But honestly, the thing that shocked him more than anything was the fact that he didn't really care all that much. For as usually protective as James was about that stuff, the statement didn't make him feel angry, or hurt, or uncomfortable; even if B meant it to be like that, which he probably didn't. It didn't sound malicious or mocking, either: just real. He couldn't describe it any better than that- real. Like the whole “friends” thing finally started to mean something beyond survival.

Between the momentary disconnect, James could see B’s face start to go a little blank. Giving his head a tiny shake, he let out a lighthearted sigh,“Halt die Klapper,” with a slightly embarrassed look on his face before sitting down. B soon followed, almost seeming relieved in some way. “You ever paddle by boat before?” B asked, most definitely knowing the answer but just wanting to make sure. James sank back a bit, “No” He sheepishly answered, as if he were suddenly embarrassed to admit his lack of worldly experience out loud. “That's alright,” B replied, “it's nothing all that complicated, really. You just take your oar,” he began as he firmly gripped the paddle and swayed it forward within the water, “and push forward.” James simply nodded, copying the motion in sync with B this time, causing the raft’s speed to increase.

Within a couple of rows, they reached the bunker's exit hatch, quickly dropping down from it into the greater expanse of the level. The water barely moved and the air was filled with a thick, ever present fog. So thick, in fact, it was almost difficult to fully make out the other's face from across the raft. James softly smiled, glancing over to B, ‘At least I get to see you through all this again.” He thought, feeling slightly more determined for the future.

Chapter Text

The two continued rowing on and making small talk with each other. Though their movement was constant, it never felt as if they were going anywhere at all. It was eerily similar to the previous level in a way nothing before it had been. At least with level five, for example, the walls, doors and carpets were all at least slightly distinct from each other. This place, however, had no such luxuries; only the sea and the fog, constant and unyielding.

After what felt like hours, though he had any way of telling, James stretched his arms and placed his oar by his side. “Du liebe Zeit!” He exclaimed, leaning his shoulders against the end of the raft. “How can you do that for so long? My arms feel like they're on fire.” He half-jokingly continued, staring up at the fog-infested sky. B shrugged, “Eh, the water mostly. Want some?” He asked, holding out the canister. James leaned his head forward slightly, “Er, not really.” He responded, cracking his knuckles and elbows. “Y’know,” James began, “it feels like it's been so long since I've seen the sky, that even though I know I am, it feels like I'm not here- in the Backrooms, I mean. It feels like I'm back in reality, even if only a little bit.”

An air of silence followed the statement, the only sound to be heard was the constant swaying of the water by B’s oar. “Sorry,” James continued, sitting back up, “it just crossed my mind that I haven’t thought about reality in a while; just being in it, what it feels like.” He admitted, hugging himself as he stared off to the side. The boat began to lightly slow as B released his focus from the oar. “Nothing to feel sorry about,” he replied, lifting the oar and placing it over his knees. “I know-” James began, “but it just feels so strange. I can’t tell if this is comforting or nerve racking.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” B asked. James shifted in his seat, thinking over what to say. He did want to talk, at least a little bit, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be this out in the open. “What? Are you a licensed therapist too?” James jokingly responded, “Wouldn’t surprise me.” He concluded, voice fading out into a shaky whisper. “I’ll take that as a yes?” B replied, lightly chuckling as he scooted closer to the other, looking up at him with over-exaggerated doe eyes. James sighed, “Yeaaah, God I need to stop talking to you so much.” He jokingly answered, focussing his gaze down to B. The other let out a swift chuckle, “You and me both, German boy.” He quipped back, leaning against the side of the boat, feet dangling off the edge. James relented, hands falling to his sides. “I don’t know, It almost feels like I’m…forgetting something, but I can’t quite pin down what.”

“Well, what do you remember, then? Maybe that’ll help.”

“Hmm, well I know I was born-”

“Maybe not that far.” B interjected, “How about what you remember about the day you no-clipped. Then, we can work our way back.”

“Ok, well I remember: waking up, getting ready for work, eating breakfast, driving to work, slogging through work, having some annoying kids break my chemistry sets, being pissed off about it, calling Hashley to vent about it, talking to…” He paused, eyes widening as he seemed to realize something.

“Hashley!” He yelled out, his whole body jolting upwards as he did so. B jumped a bit, as did the boat from the sudden jerking. “Verdammt! That’s what it was! God!- How long do you think it’s been since I got here?” He suddenly asked, turning to B. Still a bit stunned, the other shook his head, “Uh- well, depending on how space-time feels, it could be anywhere from a couple seconds to a whole month; but, if I had to guess I’d say ‘bout a week? Maybe two? Is that a friend of yours?” He asked, trying to diffuse James’s very apparently high emotions.

“Yes!- God- she’s probably been worried sick about me!” James had only really thought about Hashley in terms of distant memories, vague reasons he gave himself to justify his desire to make it back home so badly. However, thinking about her in terms of the now, in terms of what she must have been thinking, put him into a mode of existential panic he hadn’t really felt since he first came to terms with his situation. “Oh, God!- Oh, man!- Oh, fuck!-” he continued to yell out a flurry of profanities as his brain continued to spiral on his new found realization. “I-I was supposed to be over at her place before I no-clipped- but I’ve never disappeared into another dimension before! Would she even believe me! Would…” He paused again, seeming to come to another Earth-shattering conclusion. “Would anyone believe me? Believe where I've been? What I've seen? How do I explain any of this to anyone!?” He continued, nearly hyperventilating as he clutched his hands to his chest. He could feel his vision getting fuzzy, until he heard B’s voice once more.

“Hey,” the other began, sitting on his knees, “it’s alright; you're ok. It's a lot to think about, and we've got plenty of time…” James's eyes darted towards B as the other continued on with more affirmations. There was that odd feeling again. Not of the level, but of B. It was what he missed so badly on six; just seeing, and hearing, and being next to him made James feel so at ease. As he sat there listening to the other talk, his muscles loosen up and his breathing slowed significantly. “But, whatever happens I'm here for you, alright?” B concluded, leaning in closer to James. The other slowly nodded his head, “Yeah,” James answered, sitting up in a straighter position. “By the way,” he continued, “you never did answer my question.”

“Heh, about what, being a therapist?” B laughed, leaning back off of his knees. “Why? You think I'm that good at it, huh?”

“A little bit.” James admitted, face turning slightly red as he looked off to the side.

“Well then,” B continued, “why don't you tell me a little bit more about yourself? I'm gonna be livin’ with you for a decent amount of time, so I might as well get an idea for what I'm in for while we have the time.” He finished, tilting his head and resting it in his palm. James rolled his eyes in a playful manner, “We’ve already been over this-”

“No, I mean really,” B interjected, “really tell me about you; your life, your friends, your interests, anything, James, anythin’ I’m practically beggin’ you.” James began to fidget with his hands as he tried to think of what to say. He was never good at talking about himself, never liked it all that much either. It made him think too hardly about what he wasn’t. He could only ever really do it super indepthly when he was drunk, anyways. B sighed, flattening his arm over the side of the raft, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just think I’d be nice to-”

“I like Breaking Bad!” James haphazardly blurted out. B brows furrowed in confusion, “Huh?” Though his voice remained soft and soothing, James couldn’t help but feel panicked by his confusion. “B-Breaking Bad!- Y-Y’know, thhhe show? You asked me for an interest- a-and that’s- that’s one.” The stilted nervousness in his voice became more and more apparent with each word he spoke. B lightly shook his head, “No, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one. What’s it about?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. The question seemed to cause James’s eyes to light up, “Oh! Well in that case…” He then went on to describe the entirety of the Breaking Bad extended universe in excruciating detail to the other. Most of it went into one ear and out the other for B. Now, in complete fairness, he was trying to listen to what James was telling him, but it got kind of difficult to understand after “Mexico filter,” and “Slippin’ Jimmy.” James talked so fast, and gave such little clarification near the end of his explanation that B could barely tell if he was even speaking English anymore. Spacing out a bit, he was also having himself a little panic. ‘Why did I have to do that?’ He asked himself, sweat piling on his palms. ‘If I back off now, he’s definitely gonna notice somethin’s off.' He reasoned, looking out to the foggy sea. ‘Why you?’ He bitterly thought, gazing back at James, ‘Why now?’ He continued, lightly gripping at his heart.

“And so, that’s why Walter…” The other’s voice trailed off, looking over towards B, their eyes making brief contact. B could see the other’s face turn a bright beet red color, “S-Sorry!-” James suddenly exclaimed, “that was a lot, wasn’t it?” He nervously laughed, looking off to the side. “A little,” B replied, leaning his head over to where James was looking, “do you feel any better?” The other’s eyes slightly widened, before turning to face B once more, “Yeah, actually…” He paused momentarily, “I feel a lot better…Thank you.” Another air of silence was left in between the two, simply staring into each other’s eyes. “Thank you,” James repeated, his voice low and definite, as if reaching some sort of epiphany. “Gott…” He shakily whimpered, looking down at his hands. “Mein Gott…” He began to faintly sob, cupping his hands over his visor.

“Gott…ich bin erbärmlich.” He continued to cry, curling up in the corner of the raft. It felt as if everything were crashing down on him all at once, somehow harder than it had during the bathroom incident, just less violently. Meek and pathetic, like he’d always been. No grand proclamations of self-loathing and insecurity; just pitiful sobs of what had always lurked in the back of his mind, even if he didn’t realize it. “You must think I’m so pathetic, huh?” He asked, slinking his hands down from his eyes, almost chuckling as he did. The bright outlines of his projected eyes bubbled outwards as simulated tears fell from them. He hated crying, absolutely hated it, especially when it was in front of other people. He couldn’t stand the way it felt; both physically and emotionally. He despised how it did nothing but remind him of how incomplete his physical form was. How he would sob, and scream, and cry but no tears would ever follow him, they couldn’t. No, he needed “real” eyes for that, which he, evidently, lacked, and had for a long time. Not to mention how small and helpless it made him feel; like he was nothing more than a whiny, little child again, crying for the sake of it. James let out a frustrated grunt whilst gripping the sides of his visor.

“I hate this stupid thing.”

“James-” B tried to speak, but the other only kept talking.

“And I hate myself- and sometimes I just wish that that explosion had taken me out with it instead of-”

“James!” B loudly interjected, the other finally stopping his verbal spiral as the two stared each other down for what felt like years. “I do not think you're pathetic. I do not think you're stupid.” He continued, tiny tears pin-pricking in the corners of his eyes. “James whatever-your-last-name-is, I, B, Backrooms Explorer, think you are the best thing to happen to me in a very long time. You're smart, and you're funny, and you're determined. I remember when we first met; how stubborn and annoying I thought you were- but it was just that- raw, unyielding determination to get back to people who you care about- who care about you! I ain't gonna pretend like I know everything- hell, even most things about you, but let me tell you this: hand on my heart, swear on the Bible; you, James, you are enough. You are not worthless, you are not a burden, you-”

B’s speech was suddenly cut off by James jumping forward and hugging him. James gripped him tightly, vigorously shaking as he did so. The sheer unexpectedness of it left B at a loss for any real words. Slowly, yet steadily, he placed his own arms around the other’s back. B just kind of assumed that James didn’t like physical contact, given his general disposition to, well, everything. He wanted to confess every feeling and thought he’d ever had about the other at that moment. He wanted to throw all logic and caution to the wayside to live out his mental desires, but he couldn’t; he just couldn’t. He felt like such a creep for thinking about it, too. Here James was, scared and exhausted out of his mind, and all B could think about was his own internal fantasy.

James, on the other hand, remained stuck to the other like his life depended on it. Truly, he didn’t want to let go; not now, not ever really. Even though he did usually hate touching people, there was something different about B that almost compelled him to do so. James mainly reasoned that it was because of how heavily clothed B was at all times; it created a large enough separation between both their bodies that it never made him feel too uncomfortable. He also guessed that B’s general attitude helped in that regard, as well; it always had to some degree, even if he didn’t really want to admit it. It felt comforting. It felt safe.

After a while, breath still hitching slightly, James relinquished his grip on the other, flopping backwards onto the floor of the boat. Looking up at the still foggy sky, he noticed that it had darkened significantly from the last time he had bothered to pay attention to it. He sighed, continuing to stare. “When I was twenty-one…” He paused, thinking on whether or not he actually had the mental fortitude to keep going before carrying on nonetheless. He needed B to hear this, to hear him. “When I was twenty-one, I got my first job at a big-time chemical research facility. It was the kind thing I had dreamed about ever since I was old enough to dream. I had worked so hard. I had suffered so much. I did every single, little, microcosmic thing I was supposed to, all I could have ever hoped to do. Through all the sleepless nights, through all the foodless days, I persevered; I succeeded.” His disquieting voice began to shake as the words left his mouth, “I made it. The hard part was over now; I couldn’t fail, or so I thought. I remember the day clearer than any other day of my life. I had only been working there for a couple of weeks, and I don’t know what it must've been: my need to be useful, my need to be important, my need to matter; it could have been all, it could have been none. I went into the lab, and for some idiotic reason I proceeded to start messing with chemicals and compounds without any protective gear.” His voice became more agitated, almost mocking, as he continued, still shaky as ever. “And do you know what that includes?” He rhetorically asked, words dripping with regret. “Goggles, B…goggles.” He solemnly answered, feeling up his visor. “I still remember what it felt like after the blast; I remember what it felt like to feel my eyes, and my skin, and my hair burn. remember what it smelt like. I thought I was going to die, I thought my life was over…” He paused for a moment, slipping his hands underneath his visor. “Three whole weeks; three whole weeks I was out for. I remember what it was like when I first woke up in the hospital. I was awake; I could hear, and feel, and move, but everything was absolutely pitch black. Those doctors, I'll give them some credit, were able to save everything except my eyes. One had practically exploded on impact, and the other was so corroded by the time they got to me that there was no point in even trying to save it. Those surgeons had no other option but to completely sew the whole thing up to keep me from bleeding to death. I had the worst meltdown of my life that day. I truly, truly thought I would’ve been better off dead. All that work, all that effort, all that loathing for absolutely nothing at all. All my dreams; gone in an instant, because who in their right mind would ever even think about hiring someone with my track record?” James melancholically sighed, flickering his eyes towards the side of the boat. “Though, in all my sorrow, there was one silver lining; this thing.” He continued, tapping his visor. “It was a part of this new experimental technology the hospital had invested in. They told me I wouldn't have to pay one euro cent for it if I just said yes: so, I did, and it worked.” James explained, a slightly jovial tone emerging from his voice before quickly fading back into melancholy. “I couldn't look at myself for months after the fact. I barely ate, barely talked, barely moved. I sat in my little dingy apartment, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like centuries at a time. I had nothing and no one; my parents stopped talking to me all together after it happened, and they were practically the only people I knew. I thought about what it would have been like to die in the explosion; if anyone would've even cared all that much, if it even mattered. Until, one day,” James paused for a moment, beginning to sit up, “I just decided to pack all my shit and leave. Nothing was waiting for me in Deutschland, so why stay? A bit after that I figured the easiest way to get a job my degree was any good for was via a teaching license, which is shockingly easy, and that's where I am now.” He sighed, looking back into B’s eyes.

All the other could do was stare back, not quite sure on what to say. In a morbid way, he guessed he got what he asked for. He wanted to know more about James, and now he sure did know a lot more. “Sorry,” James started, holding his head in his hand, “I don't even know where I was going with all that. It just felt…nice to get it all off my chest, so, thanks, again.” James concluded, face brightening. “It's Eierkuchen, by the way.”

“Huh?” B asked, tilting his head slightly.

“‘James Whatever-your-last-name-is’? It's Eierkuchen.” James soon heard a faint giggle leave B’s mouth. “Your last name’s ‘pancake’?” James let out an audible groan, playfully rolling his eyes as he did so. “Ugh, yes, my last name is a term commonly used in Deutschland to refer to the food item known as a ‘pancake’ in English, thank you for reminding me.” He replied, a passive-aggressive yet slightly joking tone coding his voice.

“No need,” B kept on, “your secret's safe with me, Mr. Pancake.”

“Hey, that's Doctor to you.” James continued to joke back, leaning closer towards the other.

“Oh, well, my sincerest apologies Dr. Pancake. I shall never hope to defame your great name once again.” He concluded in an obviously silly, overly formal voice. The two snickered at each other from the inherent stupidity of their conversation.

James yawned, “God, I'm tired.” “It’d be a good idea for you to get some rest.” B shortly replied. “This is the most free time you're ever gonna have; so, you might as well get some while you can.” James simply nodded, soon laying his whole body down on the base of the raft. It wasn't amazing, but it was better than nothing, he guessed. Attempting to doze off, he soon began to take in how cold it was. He'd felt it a bit before, but was mostly able to ignore it due to being so mentally focused on himself. However, now it felt as if he were laying in a freezer. His thin and cut up jumper didn't help to insulate him much either. He simply sat there shaking for a couple of minutes, shutting his eyes and trying his best to ignore it. Until, suddenly, he felt a warm, leathery mass plummet over him. He swiftly shot his head up to see that it was B’s jacket. Darting his eyes towards the other, James saw B picking up his oar before looking back at him. B began, “You need it more than I do right now. I'll be fine, just get some sleep, alright?” He asked, rowing the boat forward once again. James slowly nodded, laying back down. He did feel a bit selfish for having it, but he couldn't lie; he really wanted to get some sleep, and B’s jacket was just warm enough to satisfy him. Before falling completely asleep, James muttered, “Gute Nacht, B.”

Gazing over his form, B quietly replied, “Good night, James,” before continuing to row off into the night.

Chapter Text

The next day the pair continued on as usual. They rowed their oars, whilst B shared stories of his past expeditions. It seemed as though time would speed up as James listened in. Honestly, all the chaos and panic of the levels before gave him an unforeseen appreciation for something so seemingly simple.

“So, there I was, again; back against the wall, most every other explorer I was sent with now dead, and a sea of Partygoers just fiending to do the same to me,” B nonchalantly explained. James found it a little disturbing how desensitized the other seemed to be to all the violence and death he recounted, even if the way he framed it was admittedly entertaining. Though he knew that was just what this place seemed to do to people, given his own state of mind. B most definitely had had much longer to ruminate and cope with that fact as well, so it's not like James didn't get why; he just hoped they'd get out of here before he reached that point.

“All I had left was a single pistol with a single bullet to save myself from certain doom. My eyes dart ‘round the room, desperate for any way out; until I saw it. A busted corner vent that if shot at from the right angle could ricochet off and take out about a dozen of them at once, more than enough to make a break for it. Nerves shot, boots quakin’, and palm sweatin’, I raised my gun and fired, droppin’ to the floor right after. Partygoers ain't exactly known for their outstanding intelligence so, as soon as that whole row got their brains blown out, the attention was off of me long enough to sneak away and no-clip to a safer level with the data and materials we were sent for still mostly intact.” He finished, reeling back his oar, before reaching for an Almond Water.

“Let me guess,” James replied, “they barely even thanked you, again?”

“No, not that time, actually. This was back when there was pretty much no info on Level Fun, so anyone who came back with anythin’ was treated like the second comin’ of Christ. Hell, I even got a promotion! Y’know, cuz the other guy died.” B replied, taking a sip of his drink.

"Honestly, working for a foundation sounds worse than just being stuck here. Why’d you stay there so long, anyways; you seemed more than capable by yourself back then.”

B let out a slight, rough sigh as the bottle left his lips, “It ain't that simple, James. Yeah, it sucked; but, I sorta needed it to build credibility for myself. ‘A lot easier to get around that way. People know who you are, they know what you can do, so it's easier to gauge whether or not you're worth the effort. That's nearly impossible to do here without some level of foundation influence. ‘Sides, ‘got those military hard-ass types from being on my case, if nothing else.” B half-jokingly ended, slipping his Almond Water back into his pocket.

‘There was that accent again.’ James thought, nodding along. Though, it was much more pronounced this time. It didn't really sound like he was putting on a voice anymore. It simply sounded like him; relaxed and natural. Thinking back on it, B’s speech patterns did always seem a bit strained in retrospect, almost as if he were trying to hide something. James’s curiosity grew with every word B continued to speak, however he wasn't quite sure on how to address it. He didn't want to say anything out right; for even he, in his social ineptitude, knew that would probably come off as rude.

James sat, focusing on the water as he thought on what to say next. Attentively nodding his head to each thing B said, and not much else. However, this stint of thought was soon noticed by the other. “Hey,” B began, leaning his head to the side, “you ok? You look like somethin’s botherin’ you.” He asked, the same gentle tone his voice always seemed to be in. James quickly shook his head before looking back towards the other. “No!- no, not at all… p-partner?” He haphazardly blurted out in a horrible makeshift southern drawl, his voice dripping with nervousness.

B’s pupils contracted slightly as his body seemed to stiffened up. “Oh, o-ok, then.” He muttered, looking off to the side whilst curling his lips inwards, a visible sweat beginning to form on his face. Just like that, as soon as it was here, it was gone again; his cadence returning to what it had been before; back to “normal.”

‘Why the hell did you say that, dumdass! Now he's definitely never going to talk about it!’ James internally screamed at himself. The two continued to sit in silence for what felt ages, until James eventually broke it with a very noticeable sigh. “Look, sorry- sorry- if that was mean- I-I didn't mean it like that I just didn't know how to ask about it.”

“About what?” B replied, his face scrunching slightly.

“Er, about, y'know, your accent?”

“A-Accent? W-What accent? I don't have an accent!” B exclaimed, voice cracking as he did so. “I-I mean, everyone has an accent! That's how language works- that's how talking works! There is no default sound to any language- especially English! I just have a good ol’ North American general English voice accent!” He continued, sweating bullets as his eyes darted around the foggy advance.

It was obvious to James that he had touched a nerve with B, though he wasn't completely sure as to how severe that nerve was. Not wanting to go too far, but not wanting to totally end the conversation, he replied, “I know what continent America is on, you don't have to specify.”

“Whooo, said I was American, huh? I could be, uh, C-Canadian for all you know.”

“Are you Canadian?” James asked, eyes positioned in a skeptical manner.

“Eh…no.” B answered, looking down at the raft floor whilst defeatedly shaking his head.

“It’s pretty obvious where you're from, B. You measure in Imperial for God’s sake.” James added, attempting to lighten the mood to no avail. “Ugh, look,” James sighed, “I just don't get why you feel the need to hide it.”

“I’m not hiding anything, alright? It’s just better for everyone if I don't speak like that.”

“Why is it ‘better?’ Didn't you just get done talking about how there's no standard way to speak for any language, ‘especially English?”

“That's different.” B retorted.

“How is that any different?”

“It just is, ok?!” B spat at James in frustration, who was still just more curious than anything. B let out a remorseful sigh as he held the bridge of his nose, “Sorry, i-it's a personal thing, I didn't mean to yell. You just wouldn't get it, alright?”

That last statement seemed to light up a metaphorical bulb in James's head. Now he definitely knew what he needed to do to understand why B was being so weird about his voice. “Ja, ja, ok, ok, I get zis, you are probably right anyvays.” He replied, nonchalantly leaning back, a smug expression plastered on his face.

“What are you-” B began before being swiftly cut off by the other. “In fact, I zink you are so right zat from now on I vill speak only in mein natural tone of foice. You know, if only ein of us is carryingkt ze burten of speakingkt in ze proper Englisch grammers, zen zere is nein reason fur me to kontinue on as I haf.”

“That ain't!...” B blurted out, before pausing with a sigh. “That is not your natural tone of voice.”

“Uuundt you are knowingkt zis how?” James asked, crossing his legs as he did so.

“Because in all the time I've known you you haven't sounded like that once.” B responded, growing more frustrated with each of James's replies.

“Yes, I haf; I did vhen I vas speakingkt ze Deutsch, vasn't I?”

“Uh- Yeah, because that's- because you- because they're two different languages!- With- with totally different fanatic and grammar structures- and…” B began to trial off, whilst James continued staring over at him with that annoyingly smug look on his face. “What are you trying to prove, James? What's your point here?” B sternly asked, reaching his tomfoolery limit for the day.

“Oh, vhaaat? Is zat vhat you zink zis iiis?” James replied, cocking his head and batting his eyes in an exaggerated manner. B continued to do nothing but stare at him with a very clearly pissed off expression, which seemed to give James cold feet in regard to his little scheme. “Vhy are you being so defensive about zis?” James replied, his played up German accent slipping a bit.

“I am not being defensive!” B shot back in that same old restrained voice.

“Zhen vhat do you call it, huh?! You're acting like zere is nothing zere, vhen it's been noticable since lefel vun! If it's so unimportant zen vhy are you being so veirt about it! I…I didn't mean to say zat early. It vas stupid- I'm stupid- I just- I-I just liked hearing that voice- your voice! You just- you just sounded so nice- and real; and I…” James sputtered to a halt as he realised B was just staring at him with a puzzled look on his face.

“F-Forget it.” James blurted out, looking off to the side whilst a deep red blush consumed his face. “You’re right- it doesn't matter. It’s not my business, I shouldn't care.” He muttered just loud enough for B to hear.

B cocked his head, furrowing his brows, “Do you really mean that?”

“Do I- do I mean it doesn’t matter or-” James shakily answered, an embarrassed look still smeared across his face.

“No,” B interrupted, “that you…like it?” B hesitated, confused at his own question.

“...Y-Yeah?” James answered, desperately hoping the other wasn't genuinely upset with him now.

“Why?” B replied, eyes narrowing as he continued staring down James, seeming uncharacteristicly perplexed.

“Erm- well- I er- erm- uh- I-I-I don't know! It just- you just- I don't know, it's just that you always seem so calm every time you get to sounding like that. A-And I…like that. I like listening to you.” B’s expression seemed to soften as James went on. “You being happy- it's comforting. It's comforting because it tells me that we're not doomed; that this isn't hopeless; that you care about what happens to me. That I can trust you; that- that we're…” James paused looking back towards B. “that we’re really friends. I look out into that foggy nothingness, and I feel so lost and afraid, but when I look back at you, when I hear you, that feeling goes away; even if only momentarily.”

B stared back, an almost dazed expression across his face, intently thinking of what to say next. “I don't need you to talk like that if it makes you uncomfortable,” James continued, “but I don't want you to feel the need to hide. Last night, when I, y'know, told you all that stuff, it felt so freeing- so good- I've never done that sober before.” James explained, voice cracking slightly. “A-And- and I know that realistically we haven't even known each other that long; and I know you've probably met a million guys like me before, but I want to be there for you too! I care about you, B; more than I ever thought I would- faster than I've ever cared for anything!” He paused with a sigh, “I want to know you, B. The real you.”

“Huh,” B finally replied, "I just assumed you'd get sick of it sooner or later, and it'd become a whole thing.” B elaborated, letting his accent slip out a little bit more freely. “It was a thing I picked up from the foundations, alright? If we're sharin’ stuff now; it got drilled into me that my speech needed to be, ‘easy to understand,’ and that my dialect sounded, ‘unprofessional.” B admitted, looking off to the side.

“Well, I'm not a foundation operative, am I?” James replied, smug in his words, yet sincere in tone.

B faintly smiled, “No, you're not.” He continued, lightly sighing before continuing, “You're right. I shouldn't let it hold that much power over me, it's just hard. I was in that system for a long time, it ain't easy getting your head out of it.”

“Yeah, I…I know what you mean; I know what that's like.” James replied, as B turned his head back to face him. A brief air of silence was left between the two, until B asked, “Did you really used to talk like that?” In a half-joking manner. It took the other a couple of seconds for James to register what B was talking about, before replying, “Oh, what? ‘like zhis,’ yeah, when I was like ten in English class.” Lightly snickering as he did so.

B faintly sighed, abruptly laying his head back on the edge of the raft. “Gosh, it's already so dark,” he remarked with a slight yawn, before rubbing his eyes.

“That’s a first,” James off handedly replied. The other cocked his head up, “For what?” He asked, lightly smirking as he did. “You being tired,” he answered.

“Heh, yeah, well, I'm only human, after all.” B jokingly replied, reaching into his pocket, presumably for more Almond Water. “Actually, I- er-” James began as B pulled out the bottle, “I think you should get some sleep tonight.” B momentarily paused, looking back at James with an eyebrow raised, “Really?”

“Y-Yeah!- I mean, I've passed out four different times, and you've only been asleep once this whole trip. I know you're probably used to it, but I don't think that means you shouldn't try to get some sleep when you can.” James answered, fidgeting with his hands. B sat up a bit further, “You think you can keep the boat going ‘till mornin’?” B asked, a nervous tint in his voice. James simply nodded in response, looking more determined than usual. “You deserve it, B. I'll be fine rowing by myself for a couple of hours.”

B let out a faint sigh, “Alright, alright, you win; but, don't come complaining to me about how tired you are in the mornin’.” He replied, tossing his stray canister of Almond Water over to James, “If you need anymore you know where to find it.” He added, pointing at one of his pockets before laying back down. “Noted,” James replied, picking up his oar, “night, B.”

“Night,” the other meekly yawned, before drifting into sleep.

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, James got very tired, very quickly. Despite his distaste for Almond Water, he had been habitually sipping a bottle of it throughout the night. His arms would heal after a few minutes of rest. However, he remained mentally exhausted. His desire for rest would only momentarily alleviate itself before flooding back.

James glanced towards B, ‘Do you always feel like this? It would explain your constant drinking.’ He thought. Sighing, James lifted his oar before leaning against the back of the raft. Staring up at the sky, he realized that he was completely alone with his thoughts for the first time since level five. In all honesty, it was a bit surreal not having B’s voice in his ear. James thought about a lot of things as he sat: the mundane, mostly. He thought of his stuff, and his job, and his friends more intently than ever. If he never made it back- if he died, or lost his mind, or, God forbid, just gave up on trying, what would happen to all of it?

‘Would they all just…move on?’ the thought entered his mind. ‘Probably, except for maybe Hashley.’ He solemnly presumed.

“God, I hope she's ok.” He sighed once more in a breathy whisper before sitting up. Looking out to the sea, his mind began to race with worry again.

‘If my absence is that bad on her- if it's really that distressing, then, surely, Dandi or Dansuki could talk her out of…I mean, she's got more people than just me now- she has for months! She'll be fine. I'm fine.’ He abruptly concluded, shifting his eyes down to his hands.

He drifted into thinking of the more materialistic, mainly money. He pondered on how long he could realistically be gone from work before they wouldn't take him back anymore. He was the only guy who knew enough about chemistry to teach it competently at an advanced level, and the only guy who spoke any German, let alone enough to give lessons on it; so, he wasn't that worried. Sure, Popcorn City was big, but last he checked, the teaching market wasn't exactly competitive. He never took vacation days, either; so, those had probably added up over the years, giving him some sort of extra leeway.

He still dreaded the idea of having to explain any of this to anyone in the Frontrooms, especially having to explain B. That was going to be a nightmare, he just knew it. There was at least the possibility that, given enough time to think on it, he would be able to spin some grand half-truth about where he’d been, but trying to explain why a seemingly random man suddenly lived with him would be impossible. It's not like he could just keep him a secret; Hashley and Dandi came over almost weekly.

‘What am I supposed to do? Stuff him in a closet?’ James rhetorically asked himself, shifting his gaze back to B.

He thought of what that would actually look like in practice, living with B full-time in his regular, day-to-day life. He guessed it wouldn't be too different from what they were doing now, just sitting around and talking when they were together. James wondered what B would even do on his own, away from the Backrooms, given how wrapped up his existence seemed to be in it.

‘He'd probably make good money as a translator, or a bodyguard, or something like that.’ James thought, a light smirk creeping across his face. His eyes lingered on the other for longer than he would've liked to admit, that strange, warm feeling washing over him once again. A small part of him fixated on the idea of living with B domestically, how nice it would be. The idea of always having him be there, of not having to think of just survival all the time. The comforting thought that he could share the minimal joys of his mediocre life with B, and that maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't feel so mediocre anymore. The selfish wish of B magically deciding that he never wanted to leave, that he just wanted to stay, that James would fall asleep in his arms and wake up to…

James's thoughts stopped dead in their tracks as he realized what he was actually thinking about. His face lit up in a bright red crimson as he continued to stare down B, backing up slowly as he did so. Denial was his first line of defense; it always was.

‘I don't mean it like that!’ James screamed in his head. ‘I don't!- I wouldn't!- I'm not a pervert!- I just- he's just…conventionally attractive! It's not wrong to think about him like that- anyone would! Even if they weren't attracted to men, which I mean- I am- but not to B! Not like that!’ He tried to convince himself, burying his face in his hands. Waves of heat washed over his body as he shrank into the corner.

‘It’s not my fault he’s got a pretty face, and a muscular body, and a great personality, and the most soothing voice known to man, and the ability to comfort anyone about anything, and…’

He wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted B to suddenly wake up and soothe his woes, like he always did. He fantasized that the two of them would sit in warm embrace as B whispered sweet nothings in his ear, that B would confess that he felt the same. But what he really wanted, more than anything, was for B to grab him by the collar and shove his tongue down his throat. He dreamed they would fall asleep together, wrapped around one another like snakes, before miraculously waking up in James’s bed; logic and reason as non-existent as their heterosexuality.

James hated it more than anything he'd ever hated. This feeling, this sinking dread that marinated in his very soul, made him want to disappear. This was precisely the reason why he never tried to make friends with men his age. The fear that he'd catch feelings and ruin everything, eventually. He didn't want any of this; all he wanted was to go home, but he knew he didn't deserve that. He deserved this for being a sick, nasty, cross-dressing, faggot pervert.

‘Vater hatte recht mit mir,’ he thought, ‘ich werde so wertvoll sterben, wie ich geboren wurde.’ He thought, gripping his chest as he began to hyperventilate.

Biting down on his lip, he desperately tried to focus on the act of breathing and nothing else. He would have rather died than risked the possibility of B waking up right now. He played the worst-case scenario in his head; B would jolt awake, act all concerned, and James just wouldn't be able to handle it. Everything would just spill out of him like a gutted corpse, and, even in this fictional, nightmare hypothetical, he still couldn't imagine B doing anything but comforting him, again. James knew the worst B would do was turn him down matter-of-factly and forget about it.

Maybe that was worse, in some way. Maybe, just maybe, he loathed that idea more than being beaten and thrown into the ocean to rot for the rest of time. A part of him wished he'd never chased after B when he tried to leave level one, wished B never even found him. He'd either be decaying in the void or locked up in some communal, military compound for the rest of his life, but, in his mind, he found those options far more appealing than this. That, at any moment, he would slip up, and the only friend he had in this entire plane of reality would forever look at him like a freak. Even though he probably already did, B was just too good of a person; too kind, and too thoughtful for James to not get all faggy about it.

James sniffled a bit before raising his head back up and looking towards B again. ‘Even if B is queer, which I doubt; I mean, I called myself a twink and he thought it was the funniest thing ever. But if he were, he definitely wouldn't be interested in me, of all people. I mean, just look at me!- I'm a scrawny alcoholic with anger issues and a dead-end job, who likes to cross-dress, smoke weed, and watch the same three shows on repeat in his free time; I wouldn't exactly blame B if I wasn't his type.’

Sighing, he relaxed his limbs a bit, resting his head on the edge of the boat. As he lifted his eyes up to the sky once more, he felt himself grow more and more tired by the second. However, this time he did not try to fight it. ‘A little nap wouldn't hurt, right? Anything to just get my mind off all this.’ He thought, a meek yawn leaving his lips before he drifted fully into sleep.

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James's eyes began to slowly flutter open as his head suddenly plopped down on the raft floor. Rubbing circles into the back of his skull, he began to hear what sounded like singing flow into his ears. It sounded like a low, rhythmic lullaby, echoing throughout the silent foggy advance of level seven.

Opening his eyes, he was met with B standing straight up, looking out into the distance. The raft slightly sank where the other was standing, causing James to incline downwards with it. As the crooning continued, he came to the rather obvious realization that B was the one singing. He was more confused than anything. This seemed very out of character for the other, from James's perspective, anyway. Unmoving, he remained as lifeless as a mannequin.

He couldn't understand what B was singing about, either. He wasn't speaking English, nor any other Germanic language James could've potentially understood. It sounded like Japanese, what with its long strings of simple consecutive syllables. It was either that or butchered Finnish; he couldn't really tell in his groggy state. As James continued to listen, he soon picked up that B was repeating the same couple of lyrics over and over again.

“Hayo-mo yukitaya, Kono zaisho koete Mukou ni mieru wa, Oya no uchi Mukou ni mieru wa, Oya no uchi.”

He sang in a melancholic tone, the words shivering as they fell from his lips. Growing concerned, James finally let out a meek, “B, are you…alright?” As soon as the words left his mouth, B’s song ended abruptly, before whipping his head around. His eyes were bloodshot red with noticeable tear streaks coming down the sides of his face, and his pupils looked like thin black strips in the middle of his sclera, vigorously shaking as they stared down at James. Unthinking, James held his hand out in some display of concern. He wanted to say something, anything, but between his newfound feelings for the other and his general confusion as to what was going on, he just couldn’t find the words.

However, his attempt at compassion seemed to have the opposite effect. B’s eyes widened further, locking onto James’s hand, before he turned back and suddenly jumped off the boat into the ocean. In turn, the force of his leap caused the raft to flip over, taking James down with it. He couldn’t get himself to do anything as his body sank beneath the waves: not move, not scream, not even think, really. It was already dark enough above water, but in it, he felt as if he were sinking into the void itself. Even with the light of his visor, he could only barely see a couple of inches in front of himself. After a few seconds, the panic of his situation finally started setting in on James. He began to flail around as he kept sinking, desperately trying to swim up. However, both his inability to swim and his general lack of body fat caused him to sink like a rock. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get himself any closer to the surface. His chest began to feel like it was going to explode as water started seeping into him through his nose. The fleeting thought of dying like this flashed in his mind. It would be fitting, not to go out in some quick gory blaze of blood and viscera, but to slowly suffocate beneath the waves; unremarkable and pathetic, the James signature.

Eventually, his struggle began to waver as his limbs went limp, resigning himself to his fate. His mouth relented shortly after, water soon flooding inwards and filling up his lungs. Right before James fully slipped out of consciousness, he felt something grab at his arm. Not like it mattered, of course. Whatever was reaching for him, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with it alive.