Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

𝘈 𝘣𝘰𝘺…

𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺..

Every day, the boy would come up to him and follow him around the school playground and classroom.

And everyday Dust would allow it. He didn't enjoy hanging around any other kids, anyway.

𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭?

The only downfall was the language barrier between them. The boy spoke a different language than Dust. He didn't know what the other was saying and stayed quiet, only listening to the boy.

He spoke 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘭𝘺 as if every word he said was a statement.

He followed Dust around nearly 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

He hung onto Dust like a 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦.

He 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥 words that would lead to them staring at each other for what felt like hours.

Dust thought it was a staring contest, but then again, to Dust, the boy could've been saying anything.

No names were shared between them. Dust didn't talk, and the boy never said anything that 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 like a name.

This routine went on for the whole kindergarten year.

He assumed they were both of the same age. They were in the same class and the same grade. Why wouldn't they be the same age?

Dust had seen no one else look at him the way the boy did. With so much excitement and passion. All the while talking Dust's head off.

The boy didn't seem to have eyelights most of the time, and whenever he did, they were small white dots in his void-like sockets. In the middle of the boy's chest, there floated a target shaped soul that looked like rings, one bigger than the one before it.

One day, when it was pick up time. Dust was on his way out the large gates in front of the schoolyard to walk home like many other kids that lived close by to the school. There were cops around the area anyway, watching over the children to make sure no incidents would ensue.

The kid spotted the boy, standing around at the front with a teacher holding his hand. Dust walked over to the boy and the teacher. He watched as the teacher sighed to the boy, “who's picking you up?”, but the boy didn't seem to understand what the teacher was asking for.

He stood next to the boy for a moment before walking away. It wasn't his business, anyway. His dad once told him, “if it doesn't involve you than walk away”.

And that's exactly what Dust did.

The boy took notice of Dust fairly quickly and hurried behind him, following the other and grabbing his hand so they'd walk hand in hand.

Dust didn't know what it was, but the strange boy didn't bother him. In fact, he took the other kid with him.

Leading the way home, with a boy he didn't even know the name of, Dust wasn't sure what he'd tell his mother about this one.

— — — — — — — —

At the age of 6, Dust had thought he'd never see the boy again.

Oh, how very wrong he was.

He sat in his new class, in his new school. Now being out of kindergarten and in first grade. He didn't know anyone in his new environment, being surrounded by more kids he had no interest in. He had gotten so used to having the little boy following him around everywhere.

Now that he was alone, Dust was missing the boy.

He missed how the boy looked at him with his little white dotted eyelights now and then.

He missed the void like sockets that always seemed to follow his every move.

He missed the boy's voice, how he would ramble about anything and Dust still wouldn't understand a word being said. He was fine with not understanding. He had always listened more to the tone the boy seemed to carry, anyway.

He missed seeing the target soul that floated outside of the boy's chest. An unusual occurrence, but unique either way.

It matched the weird, strange tar like goop that trickled down the boy's sockets whenever he seemed a bit too excited about something.

Dust waited at a small table by himself, glaring at anyone who tried sitting at the table with him. He stared at the front entrance of the classroom, waiting for a familiar face to show up. Waiting and hoping until he felt like he was going to cry.

He didn't want to be alone like before, before he had met the boy. He was an easy crier.

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘸?

His father didn't pay attention to him and his mother was busy during the day with work. He had been feeling lonely all break, having no one to listen to, having no one to hold hands with, having no one to stare at.

“أهلا!"

A familiar voice spoke to him, coming from the left of him. Dust turned his head, only to find the person he had been hoping for. He was more than glad to call this boy his cherished friend this year round.

Throughout the day, they didn't leave each other's side.

“ما اسمك؟” One asked the other.

Dust simply stared at the boy, not knowing what was coming out of the other's mouth. This was nothing new.

They spoke two different languages with very little English between them combined. The boy said his name to introduce himself, taking the first step. “Killer!” The boy pointed at himself and stared into Dust's mismatched eyelights with a smile.

𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳…

Dust followed Killer's actions and pointed at himself, “Dust.” He told the other. His tone wasn't as excited as Killer's, but he was still giddy inside. They finally knew each other's names, and Killer finally knew why Dust always looked confused and didn't talk. Neither of them spoke English very well, only knowing their own native language by heart.

This would be hard.

It seemed the boy only knew how to say his name while with Dust he knew the alphabet and his name.

There was definitely some learning that needed to be done if they wanted to be able to communicate with each other properly.

— — — — — — — —

At the age of 7, Dust and Killer were able to somewhat communicate through sign language that they were required to learn, and their very broken English that the school was teaching them.

Although they both had thick accents, their teacher told them the accents would lessen on their own over time the more they spoke a different language than their first language.

Kids adjusted more easily than adults did.

At least now they were able to talk to each other.

— — — — — — — —

At the age of 10, Dust made two new friends, two that were 3 years older than him. They didn't act like how Geno, Reaper, or Bird acted, a few older family friends that often looked after him and some others.

They didn't act like remodels like other older kids would. They were 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥, 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘺, and acted like they were 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵. Dust thought they were weird. But he's been around weirder.

Often, the two older boys would try telling him what to do, even sometimes telling his friends what to do if Dust brought them around. So he kept the two separate from his close friends.

He couldn't decide whether or not to drop the older two. They hadn't actually done anything severe to make Dust think otherwise. Well, other than the light bad-mouthing and many curses they threw around.

They wouldn't do anything serious to kids who were younger than them. Right?

𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?!

Dust didn't know why he had dragged someone important to him into the mix.

“Hey teddy, can you come with me?” Dust asked his close friend. The other looked at him. One red, enlarged eye with the other eye left completely empty and slanted. The boy's skull noticeably caved in on the left side of his head.

The boy's name was Horror, but his closest friends and family called him teddy because of his personality. Being known as a gentle person came with its advantages and disadvantages.

Horror stood up off the curbside. They both stood in front of the school's closed gates. Horror, waiting for his father to pick him up, was surprised to see Dust hadn't already walked home, considering the other was always the one who'd gone straight home after school. “...wh-..wherr?...” He asked Dust, his words coming out broken and slurred. His head injury having affected his way of living.

“To hang out at a bridge with two other boys…. Can you please come with me?” Dust informed his best friend. He wanted to spend time with Horror and show the bright boy off to his older two friends.

Dust thought Horror was someone amazing that needed to be shared with the entire world.

“Hey! Hurry up!” One of the older boys called out to Dust, shouting to hurry him up as they stood in front of the school, a few feet away.

“It'll be quick, and if you wanna go home early, then me and you can go home and leave the other two by themselves.” Dust was on the brink of begging Horror to go with him, to at least keep him company for a little while. Before Dust could ever continue, Horror eagerly nodded his head. Dust smiled at the confirmation from the other boy.

Why wouldn't Horror go with his best friend?

Dust quickly took Horror's hand and walked towards the two older boys.

“Why are you bringing your broken friend?” One boy said, looking Horror up and down. Dust definitely didn't like the comment. He scrunched up his nasal bone and furrowed his ‘brows’ inward in disgust when he looked the boy up and down. “He looks better than 𝘺𝘰𝘶.” Dust replied.

His voice was sour, sour that they had called Horror “broken” when he was, in fact, perfectly put together. He stood in front of Horror, making sure the two young teens knew Dust would not let them pick on Horror.

The other young teen rolled his eyes and told the other three to hurry as he began walking away from the school.

Dust walked behind the two 13-year-olds, holding Horror's hand as he guided his friend, trailing behind the bunny and the bear.

Horror stuck by Dust's side and Dust by Horror's. The bear and the bunny whispered to each other, purposely leaving Dust and Horror out of the conversation. Dust didn't mind this action, considering the two others were older than him by 3 years and Horror by 2.

He had seen Geno whisper to his friends whenever younger kids were around him. Reaper even told him it was because they talked about things that differed from what little kids talked about.

That seemed right to Dust.

But with the two young teens, Dust didn't like the whispering. He knew they were talking about him. Just seeing their eyes shift between him and then back to each other was enough for Dust to figure out they were talking about him and possibly Horror too.

Cause why wouldn't they?

It was a mystery to Dust on why he wanted to hang out with these kids who were much older than him.

Maybe It was because he wanted to 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 mature instead of being called it every morning before school by his elderly neighbor who always seem to be sitting in a rocking chair.

𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦?..

𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚?...

Or maybe it was for a different reason?...

Whatever the reason was, Dust definitely couldn't figure it out no matter how hard he tried. He simply kept following behind the two teens with Horror right by his side.

Dust looked ahead, looking at the bear and bunny more closely. They were both taller than him and Horror, which kind of made sense. 13-year-olds 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 supposed to be taller than an 11-year-old and a 10-year-old…𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

When Dust thought about it more, it made sense. Geno was 15 and was much taller than him. The teen was even a few inches taller than Reaper and Bird, who were both 14.

The bear looked to have an off white coat on along with sweatpants. It was well into winter at this point. The bunny didn't seem to be bothered by the cold breeze since he was wearing a simple long sleeve and shorts.

—

“You didn't say the bridge was a long walk…” Dust confronted the bear monster.

They had made it to the bridge, having walked all the way to the South of their large town from the North.

“It was just 3 hours.” The bear scolded. “Yeah, don't be a little 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩, be more mature.” The bunny said before the two laughed at Dust.

“I'm 10! I'm not supposed to be mature!” Dust retorted, correcting the two teens.

“And who the hell told you that?!” the two boys said in unison. One snarled at Dust and turned to the edge of the bridge, looking into the deep water below. “...Geno…” Horror answered before staring wide eyed at having accidentally spoken up without thinking.

“..Who the hell is that? Is that your mommy~~?” the bear mocked, stretching out the word “mommy” to tease the skeletons. “No, he's my friend's brother, and he's older than both of you.” Dust said, glaring at the bear.

The bunny rolled his eyes and turned away.

The mouse stayed silent, glaring back at Dust as if it were a staring contest, and the loser would regret looking away…

Dust was the first to look away, and letting go of Horror's hand.

Standing at the ledge of the bridge, Dust looked over the edge to take a peek at the shimmering water below.

The water flowing underneath had fish swimming along the drifts.

Horror stood a foot behind. Dust made sure of it.

He didn't want his friend to fall in. Horror didn't have the best balance because of the hole in his head. He also couldn't swim.

The stream below looked deep enough to drown in, too.

The rabbit and the bear were on the opposite side of the bridge. They, too, were looking over the edge. But the two teens were throwing rocks in the river, trying to strike the fishes that swam by.

Dust wasn't too fond of the bridge, considering it had no railing of any kind, like the ones back in their town.

Someone could fall in. He could swim, of course, be he wasn't sure if the other two monsters could as well. He didn't want to be responsible for any drownings.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 10.

Turning away from the ledge, Dust's eyes found Horror first before they landed on the bear right behind Horror.

Everything happened so fast and without warning. It was a push, a few grabs, a shout, then a loud splash that echoed in the loud silence that fell on them.

Horror had been shoved into Dust with great force from behind by the bear, making the two skeletons stumble backwards off the edge of the bridge. Out of reflex, Dust grabbed hold of the bear’s sleeve, dragging the teen down as well.

There was a shout from the bunny as the bear grabbed him, too.

All four fell into the freezing cold water.

Dust was enveloped with shock before he reached out and grabbed a hold of a frailing boy in front of him and broke the surface barrier, holding Horror higher as the sounds of Horror throwing up water came to him.

Realization came next.

This was one thing he didn't want to happen. Horror was still coughing up as Dust back peddled the grass, the solid land, where they could be 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦.

Horror let out a yelp as he began kicking his feet, having felt 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 tug at his right shoe. The movement threw the younger of the two off.

“Horror!” Dust yelled, trying to get the older to stop kicking around.

He instantly let go of Horror and pushed his friend closer towards land as he was dragged down. Dust was pulled underwater without a warning, a hand grasping firmly at his ankle.

He was now faced with a 13-year-old bear with a 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘴 haircut who only pulled him closer and pushed him further down to the bottom.

But that wasn't what Dust was focused on.

The skeleton was focused on the rabbit that swam after Horror.

At that moment, Dust knew. He knew they would both drown if he kept worrying about what people would think of him. Words wouldn't be enough to stop him.

A boy he held dear to his 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 would always come first. His friends and family would always come first. And he'd be 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 if some loony bitch who was failing school tried to drown his best friend.

Kicking the teen in front of him that was pinning him to the bottom, Dust's clothes felt even heavier, weighing him down more than he wanted it to.

Dust pushed forward, pushing with his legs and using the bear's face as a solid platform to elevate himself to grab onto the rabbit and pull him back.

Bubbles floated up as Dust pried opened the bunny's mouth with both hands and shoved his foot against the other's stomach to push himself forward once more to reach for Horror.

Stretching out a hand, Dust pushed Horror's sinking body forward before surfacing himself.

Dust helped Horror out of the water, but stayed behind.

“Are you ok?” Dust asked Horror.

The other skeleton nodded his head and gestured for Dust to get out of the water, too, but Dust shook his head.

“Go further back.” Dust commanded, listening to the frantic coughing of the two boys behind him, a few feet away.

They wouldn't be able to run away from the two teens. Their clothes were heavy with water and the older two were surely faster runners. Dust needed to slow down the bear and the bunny further.

He also needed his friend to look away.

He didn't want to imagine how the other would react to his actions.

And he sure as hell didn't want Horror of all people to view him as someone violent.

He'd never hurt anyone intentionally.

𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵.

“I saw a bunny over there,” Dust said, pointing behind Horror a few feet away. “Can you get it away from here so it doesn't get hurt? Please.” His voice was soft when speaking to Horror, distracting the other with an animal that wasn't even there.

Having forgotten what situation they were in, Horror's mind focused on the simple task at hand.

Horror nodded his skull and stood up, stumbling a bit as he wandered off to find a bunny and get it to safety.

Dust would look for him later.

The coughing had disappeared and was replaced with a yelp from Dust as the back of his hoodie was yanked and pulled back, submerging him back into the stream with the fishes.

But even the sea creatures swam away from the violence that was displayed in their living space.

The cruelty of watching a skeleton try to rip off a bear’s jaw who was bigger than him.

Bubbles floated up to the surface as water invaded the teen’s mouth, his jaw being pried open, forced to welcome the cold liquid that surrounded them all.

He hadn't expected for the tables to be turned.

Dust's foot was caught in the bunny monster's clothing, trapping the other underneath. He felt the two others pushing and pulling against him, but all his eyes were forced on… were the colorful fish that swam by, uninterested in the two monsters by his sides, struggling and gargling.

In that moment, he questioned himself.

𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯?

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬?

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴?

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯?

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮?

Looking out into the water, it didn't take long for Dust to resurface with a gasp for air.

Horror sighed in relief, cradling a small rabbit in his arms. He watched as Dust paddled over and got out of the stream.

The multicolored eyed skeleton sounded like a waterfall as the water soaked into his clothes poured off him.

They'd surely get sick now.

Neither of them had strong immune systems. For Dust, it was genetic, but for Horror, it was because of his head injury.

“You actually found a bunny?!” Dust questioned in between large breaths. He hadn't expected for there to have actually been any animals around the area considering they were so close to another town just a mile ahead.

Horror nodded his head, and the two hiked up the small grassy hill and walked back across the bridge.

“Do you know how to get home?” Dust asked as they continued on their directionless walk.

Dust earned a shake from Horror and huffed. They were soaking, their clothes weighing them down, and each step they took made a horrible squishing sound.

“You think we'll get lost and die?”

Horror gave Dust a side glance with his only working eye and squinted at his good friend, who had taken off his sweater a while back and was now openly displaying his drenched overalls to the cold winter air.

The younger of the two always had strange things to say. The boy dragged his wet sweater in one hand and his dripping scarf in the other, getting the two pieces of clothing dirty as they continued their walk.

“What… happen?”

The Younger hummed in question, looking over at his friend before looking down at the bunny in the older's arms.

He looked back at Horror as Horror sighed and lifted a hand, moving the rabbit over to one arm as he signed the word “boys”, referring to the two teens from earlier.

Dust's eyes shifted, looking into the forest to see two boys a few feet away, hiding behind some trees.

The boys in the words looked distorted and scratchy. They had ears displayed on top of their heads. One set long that stood tall, and the other set short and round.

Dust knew what they looked like.

He just didn't want to think it out loud, afraid they would come alive and attack them in the brutal cold like he had just done to them.

He didn't know why they were there when they should still be in the water.

“I like pie.” Dust stated, changing the subject.

Horror shook his head and ranted on about how much he disliked pie with his broken up speech that slowed him down. It was easy to make the boy forget what they were talking about previously by changing the topic.

Dust felt guilty for using his friend's fraying memory to his advantage, but he simply didn't want to talk about what he had done.

He was afraid the other wouldn't want to be around him anymore.

A car squealed to a stop in front of them, a few feet away. Dust and Horror also stopped in their tracks as a woman stepped out and raced over to them.

It was Horror's mother. A tall, lanky woman who was all bones, just like them. She wore a thick fur coat and a scarf around her neck. Her boney fingers were covered by fuzzy bright colored gloves and her legs were kept warm with thick pants and boots that stopped just below her knees.

In Dust's eyes, the woman always looked fancy. Fancy, but very caring, with a smile that always decorated her skull.

The woman kneeled down in front of them and captured the two in a tight embrace, telling how worried she and many others had been as she lifted them in her arms and back to the car, not bothered by the wetness soaking into her clothes.

She was taking her boys back home.

Dust and Horror were placed in the back seat. Their wet and sticky clothes that stuck to their bodies were peeled off, leaving them in their underwear before they were both covered with the large fur coat Horror's mother was once wearing.

“Snuggle up together. I'll put the heater on in a minute.” The woman told them. Dust watched as the tall mother reached into the back and pulled out a blanket to cover them up more and secure them in warmth.

The trip back home was short, and right after everything was sorted out and both families were calm, a bath was made.

A warm bath and some soap right after.

Dust liked the outcome, even if the beginning had been awful and terrifying. In the end, he got to sleep, sharing a bed with Horror, alive and well.

Well… they hadn't come out 100% ok.

Sickness was a 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 to deal with.

—

“I almost 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥!” Dust said to Nightmare as he sat on top of Dream's lap, his back against the other's chest, his head just below Dream's chin.

Dust was at the twins’ house along with Horror, Ink, Killer, and Swap. Dust telling the others about the catastrophe of yesterday's event, leaving some major parts out. His tone sounded excited, having escaped near death 𝘢𝘯𝘥 saved Horror from nearly drowning as well. He felt good… 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥 almost.

Good to be able to tell his friends what had happened.

And proud to have done something… 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥?

“What did you just say?!” Nightmare questioned Dust with a surprised and horrified look that spread across his face. Horror stood right next to the younger twin, nodding his head to confirm Dust's statement about having almost drowned. He 𝘸𝘢𝘴 also there after all.

“Wait for everyone to get here first!” Ink demanded, ready to hear the near death experience, but also wanting to listen to the story once Error and Cross arrive.

It was a birthday party.

Maybe not one that was made to tell horrifying experiences, but everyone would be in one spot. What better way to tell everyone?

Dust smiled and nodded, agreeing with Ink.

With the twins being the eldest and the tallest, Dust often enjoyed being held by one of them. Whether it was by sitting on their lap, making them carry him around, or holding their hands. It made him feel warm and loved, just like how he would feel whenever his mother took care of him with little kisses, hugs, or carrying him around.

Being told he was “𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘰𝘭𝘥” to be treated like a baby made him furious.

He didn't think he was old. Not old like Geno, Reaper or Bird, and definitely not old like any of the adults in his life. He was 10. Still young.

Why did he have to act like he was 30?!

𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪’𝘮 𝘣𝘪𝘨, was a saying Dust often told himself.

A knock sounded by the door before it was slammed open by Cross, who seemed the most excited. Error quickly followed behind, entering the house and closing the door behind him while Cross ran over to the group.

Error didn't seem as excited as the other even so, some excitement was shown in his colorful eyelights.

Cross climbing onto the couch next to Dream and Dust.

The colored boned skeleton climbed in the lap of the youngest twin, Nightmare, as he too wanted to be held like how Dream was cradling Dust like a baby. The twin, of course, helped the younger onto his lap and held him to his chest, his head resting on top of Error's.

“I almost died!” Dust told Cross and Error with enthusiasm in his tone. The two looked at him in shock at what they had just heard come out of their friend's mouth.

— — — — — — — —

At the age of 11, Dust met a boy named “Lust”, and he swore that was the 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 person he would become friends with. His trust in others he wasn't familiar with was gone the day those two teens tried drowning Horror and him.

He liked Lust since their names were almost the same, and he liked how they rhymed. Lust was a very outgoing child, much like Swap.

Maybe that was why he quickly became friends with the other. He liked the familiarity.

“Teddy, sign this.” Dust said to Horror. He placed a paper in front of the other, gave him a pen, and pointed to the spot he wanted Horror to sign.

Lust tilted his head to the side in confusion. He had been with Horror all morning since he couldn't find Dust, and now Dust was here and wanted Horror to sign a piece of paper. “Wait, does that say…MARRIAGE?! WHAT!!” Lust questioned Dust, letting out a laugh as he pointed to the messy handwriting at the top.

The other simply shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head. “If Horror signs this, he can't leave me.” He said in full confidence, as if he knew what he was talking about. “A lot of people sign these and they're stuck together.”

The purple eyed skeleton stared in awe at Dust's explanation. “oh, I wanna get married!” Lust pouted and groaned at how Dust and Horror were going to get married while he didn't have anyone to marry.

Dust watched as Lust folded his arms. He looked at Horror and pointed again to the spot he needed the other to sign. Horror followed directions and signed the paper that was clearly made and written by Dust himself, listening to the other two talk.

“Well, you can ask Swap, Dream, Killer, Error, Cross, Ink, or Nightmare. 𝘖𝘳 you can ask a random person, but then they'll be stuck with you… 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙!” Lust gasped at Dust's words. He didn't want to marry a 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮! He wanted to marry someone he knew, like Dust and Horror.

“Wait! I don't want to marry someone I don't know!”

The other shrugged his shoulders as if to say “not my problem” to his friend.

Dust looked down at the hand drawn marriage certificate, seeing his and Horror's first names on the dotted line he drew. “You better find someone fast, Lust. Maybe ask one of the twins?” Dust said to Lust.

“We're… ma-..marr-ied?” Horror questioned Dust. He wanted the other to clarify what he had just signed, looking up at his friend in confusion. “Mhmm!” Dust hummed his response. “We're married. You can't leave me.”

“You should've read it first before signing it.” Lust mumbled, leaning against the desk and grabbing the craft paper to examine it.

Horror had no intention of leaving his friends, but marriage didn't seem so bad either. It wasn't like they were actually married either.

Dust took the paper out of Lust's hands, folded it, shoved it in his pocket, and then walked away with a wide smile on his face.

The little one didn't exactly understand 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 or 𝘩𝘰𝘸 a marriage worked. All he knew, when two people get married, they can't leave each other.

Which wasn't true, but he didn't need or what to know that.

— — — — — — — —

At the age of 13, Dust was having regular sleepovers with Killer. His friend didn't like sleeping in his own house anymore, even when his so-called “parents” were arrested for life. He knew Killer slept at anyone else's house but his own.

And he was perfectly fine with it. He enjoyed having sleepovers with Killer. Although the other was more clingy in his sleep than before, he was still ok with it. Dust stayed by Killer's side more often, along with the others.

There was nothing that could make him want to detach from any of his friends.

A “mama's boy” is what most adults called him. He stuck to his mother like glue inside and outside of the house, barely being seen with his father to the point people didn't even know if Dust's father was actually his 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

To his mother, Dust was her pride and joy. She got whatever Dust wanted, and let Dust do whatever he wanted, too. Although he had never been a bad kid in the house, he would often cause fights with other children he had problems with. His mother would cheer him on too, encouraging him to stand up for himself and his friends, since she was the same way as a child herself.

To his father, Dust was a nuisance, a child that always asked for attention like any other child. He had thought giving Dust a little brother would help, but that wasn't quite the solution. Dust and Phantom were 9 years apart. There wasn't much Dust could do with a 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 who was only 4. His father had no compassion for any of his children. The man didn't even like kids, but had them because “𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦”.

Most times, this would cause fights and disagreements between his parents. His father complained about how spoiled and stuck up Dust was while his mother defended her son. Never in his life had his parents even been physical with each other during these arguments, which Dust was much grateful for, but that didn't stop him from fearing that there was a possibility that a physical fight could break out.

— — — — — — — —

After school, freshman year, in the winter with the cold breeze hitting the windows outside the building, Dust told Horror to wait for him at the bottom of the stairs.

“It'll be quick. I just need to finish a worksheet from last week.” He told his friend as he began climbing up the staircase to the second floor.

His math teacher had been absent for the past week, so a substitute stood in the monster's place.

Dust didn't like how the substitute always stood over his shoulder.

It never gave him the opportunity to skip classwork and be on his phone instead.

Walking down the hall, Dust saw his stand-in teacher waiting outside the classroom, holding the door wide open, the man's eyes already on the young teen.

Dust had asked the man prior if it was ok to finish a missing assignment, but he hadn't expected the guy to be waiting for him.

Having a substitute for a week straight made class a bit more boring. Dust had even skipped the class with Ink during the first two days of having their substitute teacher.

The large lizard always stood behind the same students for each class period.

And it just so happened to be Dust who was one of those students.

“Good afternoon, Dust. Are you by yourself?” The substitute said, his voice calm as he looked around with a friendly smile. Dust offered a smile back just to be nice and nodded his head.

He wasn't technically lying.

Right now, he was by himself. Horror was simply downstairs, waiting for him.

If the man had asked him if anyone was waiting for him, then that would've been a different story with the same response. But that hadn't been the question. And Dust could not care less.

Dust entered the empty classroom and heard the door shut behind him with a heavy click as the large man followed behind.

The boy already knew where to go.

Behind the teacher's desk, second drawer to the left. That was where all past work was kept.

Dust peeled off his coat that he had robbed from Horror. It wasn't snowing inside after all. Besides, he still had his hoodie and scarf to keep him warm from the cold air that blew through the open windows.

He was warm enough.

Walking behind the teacher's desk, he could hear the lizard stopping behind him and the teacher's desk creak as weight was added on to the surface.

A drawer was opened and the sounds of papers shuffling were heard in the deafening silent classroom until meaningless small talk broke out.

“I've noticed when you talk to that splotched faced boy next to you in class, you have a slight accent. What are you?” The stand in teacher talked, his gaze glued to Dust's back.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩!?

Dust thought the man was weird. He's never heard anyone ask such a question like that in all his 13 years of living, and he was barely living his 14th year.

“I was born in Japan but moved here when I was two. Both of my parents speak with an accent… so…” Dust told, shrugging his shoulders at the end. He didn't think he had that much of an accent, either.

In his head, he sounded like the average person in this country.

“Oh~, so you're Japanese… that's interesting.” The man muttered, to which Dust simply nodded his head.

An awkward silence fell as Dust placed a piece of paper on the surface of the desk and put the rest back in the drawer, closing it and reaching for a pencil to get started.

“I've always found Asians fascinating. I like the way they smell, too.”

Dust froze momentarily at the statement that was made towards him, not knowing why it had been something the other thought he should know.

𝘈𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘰…

Dust rolled his eyes to himself.

There were many strange people out there in the world. There was even a show about it that he's been seeing with Killer and Lust.

That didn't necessarily mean the guy he was alone in a classroom with was one of those people, right? It would be even crazier if the man liked children too…

Dust breezed through the questions with no issues. It was simple math to him. It hardly required any thinking.

Once he was done, he, of course, had to ask the lizard monster to check his work just to make sure.

“How old are you, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵?” The man asked as he stretched over the desk and picked out a red pen from a cup on the surface that held a mug with many other writing utensils inside.

With a blank stare, Dust watched the man mark every single one of his answers wrong, ignoring the question he had been asked as he was now focused on the sheet in front of the substitute.

“How are those wrong?” Dust questioned, not understanding what the large monster was trying to do. He knew his answers had been right.

“You didn't show your work.” The substitute teacher told with a light chuckle, as if what he had said was supposed to be a funny joke.

“I don't need to show my work if the problems are easy.” The 14-year-old boy argued with the monster that was much larger than him.

The man acting as a sub shook his head with a smile that Dust was finding annoying, and gestured for the boy to grab another worksheet. “I'm not grabbing another one when my first one was fine.” It was meaningless for Dust to start all over when there truly was no need to in the first place.

He stood his ground as the much older stepped closer. He wasn't about to be afraid of a man he didn't respect.

The guy rarely even did his job.

Dust had seen just how disgustingly touchy the lizard can get when it came to the second year seniors who were just one year away from becoming legal adults.

He stood his ground, not backing up an inch. There wasn't much he could go anyway.

In front of him stood a man who tried to act like a teacher, and behind him was a rolling chair. Behind the chair was the wall. The lizard blocked Dust's only way out.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘦… 𝘠𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵?” The Man whispered, his eyes narrowed down at the boy before his large hand reached up and grabbed Dust's lower jaw with a tight grip, forcing Dust backwards onto the chair with a 𝙏𝙃𝙐𝘿 as the backrest hit against the wall.

With a grunt, Dust shoved his foot against the lizard's stomach, attempting to push the other back.

His heart raced, and he palmed the large man in the face, not wanting him any closer. “Get off me!” Dust groaned, his checks being squeezed on both sides. He could feel his own head being forced upward, having no choice but to look at the ceiling.

“Don't be fucking stubborn! What else did you think coming here alone was going to get you?!”

The man used his knee to spread Dust's legs further apart, determined to reach his one goal that had been circling around in his mind all day.

Reaching with his free hand over, Dust grabbed the keyboard on the desk and whamming it against the substitute's head, knocking the man off him and into the wall that held a large chalkboard. Dust heard a groan on the floor beneath him, but his sole focus was getting the hell out of there.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨!” Was the only thing Dust heard before he was tackled to the ground after rushing out from behind the teacher's desk. Dust shouted, hoping someone from outside of the classroom would hear him.

He bit down on the hand that attempted to silence him.

There was a crack as his head was slammed into the floor, blood dripping and staining the floor before he was flipped over onto his back.

Without thinking, his fist came into contact with the face above him in an instant once he felt a hand graze the belt that held his pants shut from the outside world. Words were stuck in his throat as he panicked, searching for anything that could help him in his time of need.

Scrambling to his feet, Dust turned around and kicked the man in the head, wanting to slow him down before he grabbed a handful of writing utensils from the teacher's desk just in time as his leg was pulled back, causing him to stumble.

—

Horror looked around from where he sat. There was quite the commotion coming from the floor above, but he wasn't sure what it was.

Dust was also taking a while to get back.

Finishing up an assignment that was overdue never took this long.

Horror stood up and brushed his bottom off before ascending up the staircase to the second floor and turning the corner.

—

Dust panted, inhaling and exhaling short lived breaths as he sat on the hard cold floor, slumped against the wall, disheveled. His shirt unbuttoned at the top and no longer tucked into his pant that were now left unbuttoned, but not zipped down. His vest that the students were made to wear was now halfway off his upper body. His left arm was left out while his right arm and head were still through the holes.

His sweater, ripped in half before him. His scarf- 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦… he didn't know where it was.

He couldn't think at that moment as his eyes stuck to the lifeless body that laid a few feet away from him, pencils and pens sticking out of the man's face and arms with a sleeve from Dust's ripped sweater wrapped around his neck.

Yeah…

There was no way the guy was getting up.

But that didn't stop Dust's mind from playing tricks on his sight.

Dust knew he had killed him.. but… he was watching the body push itself up, blood dripping down and ripping the weapons from its body.

The blood, a crimson red, matching the blood that was splattered on his body, mixed with his own purple blood that was a steady stream down his face. He felt dizzy and exhausted as he watched the dead man crawl its way over, a hand reaching for his already undone belt.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨?...

Dust's eyelights shifted towards the two boys in the room's corner, water dripping onto the floor from their soaking wet clothes.

Everything seemed to only get louder. The constant drips hitting the hard floor, the blood that now flowed out of the man's body from the many holes that now sounded like waterfalls, staining Dust's clothes even more. The sound of the wind blowing cold air inside to the sound of hands fumbling with a belt.

He couldn't do anything.

His body wasn't moving apart from the shaking from the cold that seeped into the classroom from the open windows.

As the door slammed open, he blinked his eyes and was back to staring at a body of a large man laying a few feet away.

Slowly, Dust turned his head up in dread, his soul working overtime, and doubled over as his empty sockets met Horror's lonely red eye that always seemed to shine the brightest no matter what situation they were in. He'd probably go ape shit if that light was ever stomped out. Possibly even mental if it was done in front of him.

𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨…

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦…

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦..

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵..

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦..

𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵…

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦… 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦-

Dust watched as Horror walked over. The silence stretched between them as his useless body was lifted up and leaned against his best friend.

…𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵…?

Dust didn't understand what was going on.

But then he realized.

This was 𝘏𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳.

The other would understand if there was a hell of a good reason for this outcome to have happened.

Horror wasn't just going to up and leave.

The trip to the restrooms felt long, but in reality, it was short. No words were spoken between them, which only made Dust feel even more anxious.

Sitting on the sink counter, he let Horror do whatever.

The feeling of the wet paper towel on his bones felt.. weird. It felt like it was causing more of a mess than actually cleaning anything up.

‘’I can just take a shower.” Dust said in a timid tone, being the first to speak as he grabbed Horror's hand in a mental manner and pushing it away.

Horror shook his head before going back to cleaning his friend off.

Silence fell upon them once more until the same monster broke it again. “Can you.. not tell anyone.. please?” He asked the other. He felt embarrassed that this accident had happened to him.

Embarrassed and ashamed…

Ashamed For having not known this would happen. Now, looking back at it, there had been signs of the unfortunate behavior the substitute had been doing to many other students.

“Not even your… parents?” Horror questioned, whipping Dust's head to reveal a creak. A simple fix with some healing jell and time and it'll look like nothing had ever happened.

Dust shook his head at the question. He knew this news would break his mother's soul. He couldn't bear to see his mother cry, especially if it was he who had caused it. How could he live with himself, knowing his mother no longer thought of him as her son?

He didn't really care what his father thought of him. The man already thought lowly of him.

“And what a-... about the camera…s?” Horror questioned.

Now Dust was really thinking. His thoughts had been clogged in his chest from shock as he was processing what had just gone down, but now with Horror, safe in the school restrooms, he was able to think and breathe.

There were many cameras around the school. It wouldn't be easy to keep his little problem a secret, but if he was simply honest and told the truth and what had happened to the police and principle and sorted things out with him, then he was sure everything would come out ok in the end.

“I'll figure something out.” Dust said as he shrugged his shoulders.

Maybe it was he who had done something wrong.

Or maybe it had all been because of some misfortune on his part. If he hadn't asked. If he had only waited for his math teacher to have come back. If he had decided to skip on what was supposed to be a little bit of tutoring. Then maybe this fate could've been much different.

He didn't know.

But something he did know, he was going to need a new uniform. Blood was very hard to get rid of, especially when you don't want anyone to know about it.

— — — — Misfortune — — — —

Chapter Text

The gentle breeze of the wind weaving through the grass under the night sky, full of stars, felt relaxing and enjoyable. Especially with everyone all together, ready to set off a pack of fireworks into the vast sky. 

The light sounds of droplets hitting the ground in the middle of summer when it hadn't been raining all month were agitating to say the least.

But being in a group was exciting since most times they didn't need an adult or an older teen to supervise them. They weren't far from home either, just in a clearing in the forest by the neighborhood. They were close by to call for help if needed. But they wouldn't need that. They were merely shooting off fireworks into the night sky after all. 

They were just a bunch of 11 and 12-year-olds having fun.

Carrying a backpack slung over his shoulder, Dust stopped towards the center of the field and placed down the bag while Horror, Killer, Ink, and the others circled, watching as Dust unzipped the backpack and dumped out the contents from inside. 

There were various types of fireworks and sparklers.

“Alright, who has the lighter?” Error questioned. 

Killer dug into his pocket and pulled out a lighter, flicking it on a few times before holding it out towards the middle above Dust's head once he got the fire started, showing off the dancing light. 

“Ok, let's do the small ones first!” Dream announced with excitement, being handed a few small fireworks from Dust and backing away to get the show started.

Horror stood behind Dream even when he didn't need to, mostly because Dream insisted. Maybe it was because of the accident with the boy's skull that still traumatized Dream. The need for wanting to keep the other away from the possibility of getting hit with a firework.

Dust pulled Error towards himself as they stood across from Dream, Horror, and Killer, not wanting to be standing alone with the sounds of pitter-patter from the two boys who stood in the distance, soaked with water for eternity. He didn't look in their direction either, already knowing what he would see. They wouldn't leave him alone, no matter how many days went by. He could hear it everywhere, 𝘴𝘦𝘦 them everywhere.

At first, it had only lasted a few days, but now they were back and just wouldn't disappear. He didn't want to sound crazy, so he was waiting it out, but even that seemed to be taking a little too long for him. Though wearing a hood over his head made it easier for him not to feel like two sets of eyes were burning through the back of his skull. It made the paranoia less intense. Made his mind more at ease.

𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭.

The others were circled, gaps in between so as not to crowd around the potentially dangerous objects.

Once the first firework was placed down in the center, Killer made it over and lit it up before quickly backing up and crouching behind Horror.

All eyes shot up as a loud squeal sounded and lights exploded in the sky like shooting stars.

A few placed their hands over the side of their skulls to muffle out the loud noise, their hearing being more sensitive than others. 

Dust stared up in amazement. The sky was decorated with color, firework after firework, until all the smaller ones ran out. 

Lust and Swap were lying down in the grass, admiring the show above them while Ink walked back to the backpack that was next to the pile of fireworks and sparklers, deciding which ones they would waste next. 

Cross and Nightmare helped Ink pick a few sparklers out since the ink-splotched skeleton was taking too long and was a bit indecisive. 

Soon, in every hand, balls of light danced on sticks, being held out at arm's length for safety. They went through pack after pack, running around and watching as little balls of light danced around and crackled, occasionally letting go of the sticks once they got too hot, only to go back and light up another. 

Laughter was contagious, and so were shouts and screams of joy and excitement as the children chased each other around and waved their arms in the air. 

Dust jogged over to the pile of what they had left over, bending over slightly at the waist with his hands positioned above his kneecaps, looking over at the bigger and larger fireworks that were left. Knowing these would be much louder than the others they had just lit up made him hesitant. 

He had received his mother's sensitive hearing, which made loud noises or commotions a bit too much for him, which sucked. At least for him. His friends seemed to handle it a bit better, especially Dream, who had the same problem. But he was having 𝘧𝘶𝘯. Dust was having so much 𝘧𝘶𝘯. He didn't want to have to go further at a distance from everyone else just because he wouldn't handle the loud noise of popping and exploding. He wanted to 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺. Stay and enjoy the feeling in his chest that made him feel excited to continue. The feeling of wanting this joy and excitement to last a little longer until they'd have to go home. 

It was just so easy to enjoy himself around his friends. He didn't have to worry about his homework that was due tomorrow, or the fact that he had forgotten to clean his room when his dad had told him to before he left. He could just focus on 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. This moment that he was in right now. 

Killer raced up behind Dust and threw himself against Dusty's back, his arms squeezing around the other body's chest as his chin sat on Dust's shoulder. “Let's set off all of them.” He says. Of course, that's what he wanted to do. But Dust shook his head. “What if the trees catch on fire?” Dust questioned. It wasn't a possibility they were worried about. They were in the clearing. A wide space on land that was covered in flowers and grass. Trees shouldn't be set on fire unless they were aiming for them. 

“Obviously not.” Killer rolled his eyes, his voice condescending as he spoke. “We'll all get one and then shoot it up in the sky.” 

Dust gave Killer a side glance, thinking this was the most stupidest thing his friend could have ever came up with…

It was perfect.

“Alright.” Dust said, leaning down more and piling the rest of the fireworks into his arms before shoving Killer's shoulder to have him carry the rest of the fireworks. 

The two boys ran over to the rest of the group, shouting about Killer's bright idea. 

Fireworks were passed around before Dust took his spot next to Error again. One by one, the boys passed around the lighter, setting the firework they held down and setting the little rope on fire, watching it shoot up into the sky and blowing up in colors. 

One by one.

Dust's eyelights glanced over Ink's hands, the boy in front of Nightmare, having decided to try and light the firework while holding the stick that was supposed to be stuck into the ground. 

“I'm hungry.” Error voiced, scratching his cheek before shaking his hand as his strings stuck to his fingers. Dust watched as the colored boned skeleton tried to clean his fingers. He's watched the action so many times over the years of knowing the boy. But it always seemed entertaining to see. “You're always hungry.” Dust retorted before looking back to watch Ink struggle.

The sound of a loud whistle erupted, making Dust’s face scrunch up and his hands lift, planting against the sides of his skull as the terrible screech grew louder. His head turned away from Error, looking over towards the sound.

His eyelights shrank as he witnessed sparkles and a cone-shaped point zero in on him, his head being knocked back as the night sky that was once filled with stars grew darker into a black void of nothingness, his back feeling the ground. 

A shooting star had attacked?

Attacked for his wrongdoings?  

For having taken a life that wasn’t his to take?

For behaving terribly with other kids around him?

For his sins..?

"Ughh..."

Dust opened his eyes, hearing commotion around him as his head was lifted up. Bright light sparked through before his vision started clearing, Horror's face coming into view before Killer's face was seen next, his mouth moving, but all Dust could hear was a bunch of mumbles and crying and people freaking out. 

Past the familiar faces were more people, older in looks and clothing, looking like they were from another period in life. But one person who stuck out the most was a man who wore a hood that acted as a veil, hiding his face from the world, his posture tall and strong-looking, while his clothes caught on fire below the night sky. Red glowing eyes looking back at him, but no face showed, no identity to be recognized. He had never seen this person before or the people who carried no face but showed wounds. But he had seen those eyes before, in the mirror when he brushed his teeth or washed his hands. Those eyes that mirrored his own. The blacked-out face that he could also do with his own. But he's never seen him before, never knew him, never recognized him, never heard of him. 

"He's deaf!" Killer cried out, sobbing. "Don't say that!" Nightmare scolded while his brother was trying to calm Killer's crying down.

Dust lifted his head, looking around, only to see there were fewer people than what he had seen before. A constant ringing made it hard to hear, and his vision seemed fucked, but he could make out his friends who surrounded him. He was dragged up, forced to sit up even when his head spun and felt like his soul had jumped up to his skull and was beating. 

There was talking, talking, and even more talking, but he couldn't focus on a single thing. 

What happened?

His thoughts were a jumble, and he could faintly make out the worried faces staring at him.

"Someone get his mom!"

"He needs to go to a hospital!"

"I'm so sorry!"

"What happened to his eyes?!"

"Is he blind?"

"I didn't mean to hit him!"

"Can he hear us?"

"Dust! Can you hear me!?"

"Carry him!"

"Pick him up!" 

"I didn't mean it!"

What's happening? 

Dust felt himself being lifted up and carried. "Ughh..." Dust groaned, leaning his head against a shoulder. whoever's shoulder it was. he didn't know. It was hard to know, to think, to see, to hear. He was disoriented, having been hit in the head with a firework, straight to the eye at that. Though, he didn't feel upset or angry. There wasn't a grudge, but he could hear Killer's voice yelling at an already crying Ink while Nightmare and Dream sounded like they were trying to smooth things over. 

------------------------------

Dust opened his eyes once more. He lifted his head up, glancing around to find he was in a hospital bed. Glancing to his side, feeling weight against his shoulder, seeing Killer in his hospital bed, head against his shoulder, and holding a hand. He rests his head back down against the pillow, not being able to remember when he had gotten here, but he remembers what had happened.

"Are you mad?" Dust asks, but he already has an idea of what Killer's answer would be just by seeing the angry look on the other boy's face. Killer tilts his head slightly back, looking at Dust. He didn't need to give an answer. It was already evident on his face. 

"I'm not mad... and you shouldn't be either." Dust told Killer, but his words only made Killer frown even more. "Ink didn't do it on purpose, ya know. He didn't mean it. I don't think you should be mad at him." He told his best friend. Conflict between two of his best friends was always a miserable thing to experience. He didn't want Killer or anyone else to be mad at Ink for something that had been an accident in the first place. 

They were stupid kids trying to have fun. Sure, it hadn't been the brightest to not have an adult around and think they could keep things safe when he didn't even know what they were doing from the start.

"Yeah... Alright.." Killer murmured, leaning his head more into Dust's shoulder. He had said some nasty things to Ink and had been feeling bad about it ever since. He wanted to apologize, but he had just been too mad to apologize. He didn't hate Ink. Ink didn't need all that yelling. The boy had already been crying. Killer had simply made it worse. 

"I'll say sorry to him when I see him." 

"Good."

Dust was starting to not want to be around fireworks ever. That had been scary. He didn't even want to say what he had seen when he opened his eyes. All those strange people that had suddenly disappeared when his vision got a bit clearer. He probably would've sounded crazy.

He didn't want to sound crazy.

To be looked at as if something was wrong with him. Nothing was wrong with him..

Right? 

------------------

Dust opened his front door, having been released from the hospital an hour ago. He wasn't surprised when he saw Ink standing outside his door on his patio, fiddling with his fingers nervously and looking like he was about to cry. He's never known Ink to be a crybaby. The boy was always laughing and smiling, even in the wrong setting. 

He stepped out and closed the door behind him, standing face to face with his friend. 

"I'm sorry.." Ink mumbled, looking at the shorts Dust was wearing instead of the eyes he was supposed to be apologizing to.

"It's ok. I'm not mad at you or anything. We're still best friends." Dust told, accepting Ink's apology. But he hadn't expected for his best friend to burst into tears. Now this was a surprise. He's never seen this from Ink before. 

So, he hugged the other tight. "You don't have to cry. I said I wasn't mad." Dust said, giving an extra squeeze to the other. "I know-" Ink hiccuped as he continued to cry, trying to explain himself. "I didn't mean to hit you.." Ink promised, holding Dust just as tight, the feeling that Dust was mad but just wasn't telling him tightened in his chest. He knows Dust isn't mad. He said it himself that he wasn't. But Ink didn't feel like he should be forgiven, even if it had been an accident. "I know." Dust said. 

Ink wasn't a person to go around causing injuries to his friends, injuries that made the others end up in a hospital, and damage to their sight and hearing. Dust knew that. Their other friends knew that. The adults in their lives knew that. It had merely been bad timing and poor positioning, as well as horrible thinking. Dust only blamed himself for not having been paying attention, for having been distracted by Error and his own hunger. If he had been talking to Error while also paying attention, then he probably would've had the chance to move out of the way and avoid everything else from happening. But now his bitch ass doctor said he would need glasses and had some trouble with his hearing. But honestly, his hearing was doing just fine. Everything didn't sound as loud anymore, which seemed great, but he also couldn't hear others well if they talked too softly. As long as he could still hear and see the people he loved, he was fine with whatever problems that came his way. 

"Did Killer talk to you?" Dust questioned, wondering if his friend had apologized like he said he would or if he was still mad and possibly avoiding the ink-splotched skeleton. But he felt a nod against his shoulder. "He came over to my house and apologized for getting mad at me." Ink muttered. "Good, because nobody should be mad at you. You didn't mean to do anything wrong." Ink simply nodded his head again without another word, but he was never touching another firework again. 

But to Dust, he had seen a glimpse of a shooting star, even if it had hit him right in the face. The bright sparkle and loud squeal that followed it. The smell of smoke and the spotted dots that had appeared when he had opened his eyes. 

He had seen shooting stars, and he wasn't mad about it.

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