Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Heart was utterly livid.

He sat on his bed, silently shaking with absolute fury, unsure of whether to retain his pathetic state or break down, screaming and banging against the floor. That was far too much like he typically did, and he'd be more mad at himself if he gave Mind more ammo against him. Regardless of this reasoning, he probably would anyway, though, since he didn't exactly preach himself a creature of logic- except, it would be different this time. It had to be. (Well, now he was sounding like Soul. These things were irreparable.)

His chest ached even more than usual, off-beat rhythm strumming in his chest. He could hear it in his ears, reminding him that he was still alive. He found that he wasn't pleased by these reassurances. He white-knuckled his dirty sheets.

He always got like this when he was too hysteric. He felt warm and fuzzy when he was filled with dopamine, foggy and swampy when he was sad, and… this when he was mad. It was never a great experience.

Although he was alone, the air around him was writhing with unresolved tension, and his feelings were following an oddly familiar loop. Mad, sad, confused, mad again. Mind occasionally brought up how his brain did that instead of his heart. Called it his train of thought. A loop’s a loop.

Something within him was dragging itself down the slope of his frontal lobe, crawling down his brain stem, staggering across the slope of his atrophied muscles. He could do little more than walk. He could do little more than shiver. Couldn’t eat, run for too long, or sleep nearly enough. Mind noticed, and he made it very clear at how he could afford to do all of those things.

Heart noticed some things of his own. He saw the way Mind gripped the counter before he lost his eyesight. He knew the way, too.

Hungry to do something other than sulking in his miserable, angry state, likening it to begging to do something other than boiling in his own pot, he adjusted his blindfold and put his underused neurons to the test. What would he do? It wasn't often he actually tried to do things. The main topic in his ever irrational mind, now that he had somewhat calmed down? How to get back at Soul.

It was different. Instead of mind ruining everything like he typically did, it was Soul. Frankly, Heart was mildly surprised. Sure, what he did took place as a punishment for a fight they had, but that digresses from the main point.

What had Soul done, of course? Something that made his insides churn thinking about it.

He made Heart and Mind swap personalities. For an entire day. The inner war that was going on inside Heart from the mere event was not worthy of his eventual ignorance, even after it had transpired. So what would he do? He'd have to think it through.

Heart knew he was a petty bitch, he figured he knew himself better than anyone, so he figured he might as well play a game of go big or go home here.

So he thought. Really hard. He shifted around on his bed, clutching his wrist and doing other small acts to keep his body occupied while his mind- for once- worked. Typically it was Mind doing this shit. For lack of a better word, he was inexperienced with this kind of skill set.

But, in the end, he came up like he normally did on the rare occasions he performed these endeavors- completely dry. Typical.

He paced around his room, silent footfalls muffled further by his socks. Hand to his chin, other arm slightly extended to feel for any obstructions, he wondered if he should go ahead and just give up now. Perhaps he shouldn’t, as through nothing comes nothing. Unfortunately, very often, through something comes nothing. Most quixotic tasks birth no child, no result. Womb empty, yet so filled with delusion. Empty as his eye sockets, his head, his hands. No gun and no reason for holding it.

He sunk deeper into his anger. A background of despair suddenly became clearer. This is why he didn’t want to think. 

Eventually, he came to a stop at his door, reaching for the handle, feeling around for a bit before finding it. Satisfaction dulled his misery as Heart opened his door and walked out into the surprisingly silent corridor. Heart wondered for a brief moment if Mind was mulling on the exact same thing he was earlier, before concluding the idea that it was likely that he was. They had a common enemy now, and Mind was the resident muller. Or he was just sleeping. It was pretty late.

Soul ran on monster energy at this point, so his surprise more so came from the fact that he didn't hear the slightly muffled sounds of an electronic keyboard in the distance. Heart vaguely hoped that he was asleep, as he didn't wanna be forced to confront him quite yet. But hoping that Soul was asleep, the ever-waking monarch, was like praying for a miracle. Heart didn’t bet on miracles.

Heart began to silently step down the hallway, shivering, gently tucking his wings closer to his body (Soul once told him that his feathers slightly raise like a cat’s fur whenever he’s anxious or cold). He only had to take a few feeble steps before hearing muffled clacking on the ground in front of him. It wasn't firm, sounding more like it was caused by dull claws than actual weight.

Darrel? Heart wondered, as he leaned down and reached his hand out. He kept it outstretched for a moment, before a small nip confirmed his theory.

He immediately raised himself up, bracing himself. Typically, if Darrel was around, so was Soul. Soul was almost never seen without his feathered friend, and Heart didn't exactly wanna stick around to figure out why Mind called Darrel a feathered fiend; he still had no clue what happened on December 14th, 2021, and he didn’t wanna know that either. He figured he should turn around and go back to his room.

But his legs seemed to be glued to the hardwood floors, partly because Soul would be even angrier if he ran off and happened to scuff them. If he ran, Soul would follow. If he hid, Soul would find him. But, if he stayed right here, it would go by a bit faster if anything bad did happen. So, he couldn't bring himself to move. For a horrible second, he dreaded to either hear a jingle of windchimes or heavy footsteps. Either way spelled out possible punishment.

But, to his surprise- nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He even waited a few more seconds to confirm it. He was right. Darrel had escaped Soul’s obsessive clutches, for once.

Heart heard Darrel begin to move around and cluck again, so Heart decided to back up and go back to his room before Soul came to the chicken's rescue, as he was sure to be alerted from Darrel's clucking. But, as he turned around, it hit him like a semi-truck.

Darrel. Absent Soul, for now. Mind being pissed as hell too. A common enemy. Soul was always a bit aggravated about nobody else making dinner. Maybe Heart's thinking had paid out in the end. Oh, Soul was going to get a day without tedious cooking all right. Heart sure hoped Soul loved fried chicken. Soul, infallible Soul, servant and savior and lord of their vessel. Above and below. Food for their collective, individualized thought!

Heart promptly jogged to Mind's room, nearly running into a wall. He ran based on nothing but vengeance and primal instinct, and opened the door. If he had dared to think, he probably would have changed his mind. But he was impulsive, and he needed to get his logical half in on this.

When the door swung open, there was silence, yet Heart could tell that Mind was definitely awake. He heard a harsh sigh, before Mind said, "And what does Resident Heart desire to complain about this time?" Rude. But Heart, for once, didn't have time to feel offended. He had bigger chicken to fry.

Without skipping a single beat, Heart flatly said, "I need your help making a chicken sandwich." 

There was a moment of perplexed silence, before a scoff escaped the Automaton’s lips, echoing around the room like a murmur of distaste. Mind dryly hissed, "A chicken sandwich? Really? You can't make a simple sandwich? How low has the lowest of the low fallen?"

"No! What I mean by that is… Oh, I'm sure you remember what Soul did, yeah?" Heart snapped out through gritted teeth. Lowest of the low. Clearly, one of them was having trouble assessing who was sinking beneath bar after bar here. Hint being that it’s the one with more active synapses.

If Heart could see, he'd immediately note Mind's grimace, and maybe even laugh a little at the Sun’s frazzled state. What Heart didn’t bother caring about was how things had affected Mind as well. Not in a way past surface level consideration, at least. All he needed to know was that Mind was bothered. A bothered Mind makes a slightly, just slightly more impulsive Mind. An impulsive Mind is, as you may assume, more easily influenced. He didn’t need to think about how the Sun was understanding for a moment on how being Heart must be like. Heart did not want to think about how he knew why Mind did what he did.

Mind inhaled, before surprisingly sounding subtly resigned in the way he said, "Yes. I remember."

Heart nodded to himself, before he said, "Soul left Darrel alone for once. And I really wanna make him fried chicken, you know?" This sentence, though he made it himself, itched a memory somewhere deep within him. Ah, that’s what it was. “The Most Dangerous Game” was a short story that beheld a clever little pun. Hunting humans for sport is a pretty dangerous game. And humans are, in fact, the most dangerous game. Make Soul fried chicken. Make Darrel fried chicken.

Mind raised an eyebrow at this, before he slightly twitched and Heart swore he could hear him mutter a brief Oh. Of course, Heart wasn't going off by sight. The twitching of a nervous logician and the minor raise of a suspicious eyebrow veiled itself from him. So, without the visible motions of speech and consideration in front of him, he was unsure.

Mind stood up, walking slightly closer to Heart before uttering, "And how do you propose that'll work?" That faint hum that accompanied Mind's voice was the one thing Heart could focus on to prevent himself from getting mad at Mind's tone.

Heart firmly clenched his fists before he slowly justified his means of carrying out his intentions. "Well, Darrel's right outside in the hallway, and we have dinner pretty late, you know that Mind. We have time."

Mind seemed to pause. Heart was sure that if Mind wasn't livid at Soul as well, if he was being any more rational than heart was, he wouldn't hesitate to say no. But that wasn't the case.

Mind sighed and said, "Fine, I'll help."

Heart had to admit, he was glad that the Automaton was on his side for this one. He would have an ally, and Mind wasn't gonna blame him because they were on this sinking ship together. Hopefully. It wouldn't be the first time Mind throws him under the bus. But he had hope. He adjusted his blindfold, hunching in on himself somewhat, running through his head, Will it work? Should we be doing this? But Heart had had enough. He was going through with it.

Conveniently, he heard the door being nudged open, and heard the pompous, feathered bastard cluck and begin to preen himself. Heart slightly rubbed his hands against his own chest, soothing a pain that wasn't even there right now yet was so frequent it had become an unbreakable habit. He pursed his lips before saying, "Now let's make some KFD.”

Chapter Text

Mind and Heart paced the room, footsteps matching in perfect unison. Darrel still clucked underfoot, and despite the plan, they both took care to not step on him. The noise it would cause was too risky. Heart had a hand up to his chest again. Mind was soothing his aching temples already.

Heart’s thoughts weren’t on the plan, they were on himself. He was sort of wondering what would happen to him after they did this, how Soul would retaliate. He didn’t quite… dread it, per se, but he expected it. It seemed like another one of those inevitable facts of reality, like the law of gravity, or the first law of thermodynamics. It was as certain to happen as the end of Cacophony, the start of Concord, the end of it. But that was eternal return. This was one-off. There would be no more Darrel.

Mind, rather abruptly, stopped. Heart accidentally rammed into his back, and the Automaton shot an aggravated glance over his shoulder. The expression melted off of his face as he realized what little good it did.

He squinted instead, weaving together the final threads of a half-decent plan, before he turned fully to Heart and announced, "I have an idea." rather victoriously. If Heart could see, he'd probably note the bright look on the Sun's face.

Heart paused, waiting for him to continue. He did a few moments later with, "Alright, so you distract Soul. I kill the stupid chicken. Simple?" Heart nodded, still rubbing at his chest. He turned around, walking out of the room. He didn’t exactly get any signal to proceed, but Mind’s lack of interjection at his escape probably meant that it was time.

The door creaked as Heart cracked it open, and he instinctively peeked his head out to try and check outside. Useless move, truly, because- well, this bitch is blind. He stepped to the other side of the doorframe, chewing on the inside of his mouth. He hoped Mind would be quick, but not so quick to where Juno couldn't make it to Soul's room.

Heart closed the door behind him, paying no mind to the obnoxious door hinges. He creeped down the hallway, the long corridor seeming even more dreadfully empty now that Darrel was gone. Would be gone, forever, he amended. He carefully counted his steps. And he soon stopped, at exactly fifteen, where he knew Soul's door lay.

Turning to the left, he rapped his knuckles on the door, and waited 1, 2, 3, 4 seconds… before it slowly opened. It seemed to open only slightly at first, as if the man inside was scanning his intruder, but it soon fell open all the way.

He heard Soul step out. Heart waited for a moment, waiting to hear the signs of his trident. But he just heard him say, "Heart. I didn't know you were confident enough to come here after what occurred."

"What you made occur," Heart boldly corrected. 

Soul nodded, regardless of the fact Heart wouldn't ever see it.

"Well, what do you want?" Soul said flatly, clearly still a bit pissed. Heart stiffened at his tone. Why was he even doing this? Soul didn't really sound distracted, with how he was audibly rocking on his feet and drumming his fingers against the doorframe in a familiar tune. He seemed impatient. If he were to hear anything right now, he'd zero in on it like a heat seeking missile. He prayed that Mind hadn't started yet.

"I. Uh." Heart somewhat muttered, because if he was being honest, he hadn't thought a single damn second about what he was gonna say! Instinct was failing him. His hardly-surviving intellect was scrabbling at a cliff's edge, nothing was below to save him from slipping off. The only thing that soothed him was the fact that Soul couldn't ever kill them, not even if he wanted to.

Before Soul began to look too annoyed, he quickly said, "Oh. Uh, how's Whole?"

Soul raised an eyebrow at this, finding the fact that Heart gave a single shit about Whole's state unlikely. Whatever, he thought, satiate his apparent curiosities on our vessel.

(Must be something along those lines.)

He tapped his foot against the floor, beginning to speak. "About as good as a depressed man with 3 people inside him and someone who he really hoped would be the love of his life having turned him down could do." Heart hesitated and wrung his hands together. What was up with Soul? He wasn't typically ever rude after their fights. At least he sounded more distracted now. 

Soul tipped his head at him and continued with, "Yeah. You're part of the problem, Heart. Can you-" he broke off for a moment, tone turning angry- "-Ever do a single goddamn thing right for once?"

Heart found himself flinching at this and instinctively taking a step back, wings flaring and wrapping around his body in an attempt at self comfort. Heart never took any form of criticism, healthy or not, well. He sniffled, already feeling tears brimming in his eyes from Soul's statement. Was Soul really wrong, though? His single job was emotional regulation, which he failed at on the daily. He could still feel the effects of the disappointed glances at his door whenever he locked himself in his room, could feel judgement from his own bubble of self-imposed tragedy. They all seemed to do that, value themselves over one another. It was exactly the thing that never worked out. When men are unequal, they can never unite. It’s a fact of life. It’s an aspect of Cacophony. Mind’s intellect fails to grasp it, poisoned by feeble pride. Heart’s intuition barely picks it up, dropping it again because what is he supposed to do with that? 

Soul was rambling now, and distantly, Heart felt himself listening. He heard every insult, every single ounce of annoyance and pent up anger in Soul's tone. He didn’t quite understand it like he usually did. He sunk into it, he felt it instead. Every single word pushed him closer to the edge of a breakdown, but what stopped him?

A weak cluck he heard in the distance. Strangled and raspy. Soul didn't appear to notice, still rambling on, and Heart was shoved back into the reality of his cruel words all at once. Soul kept going on and on, until he flicked his gaze back to the pathetic form of Heart, in which he found the heart to finally hesitate. 

He paused, before apologetically mumbling, "I- I didn't mean it like that Heart. I swear, you and Mind are fine. It's just- I'm so tired. I can't ever sleep, because whenever I try you two are just fighting. I can’t play in tune when I make music because I’m too busy hearing what you two are yelling about. I thought that- what I did, I thought it would help you two understand each other better. But it was clearly counterintuitive. I'm- Heart, I'm so, so sorry." 

Heart stood there, devastated. Soul actually feels bad? This was so much harder to do now. Could he even go on with the plan? He spares some thought into Soul’s predicament for a moment. Tuning to the sounds of their screams, crescendos to their raising voices. Drum beats to the sounds of doors slamming shut, glasses being thrown and broken. Guitar starting, slow and steady in the aftermath. But his thought process broke off when another, even weaker cluck was heard.

Soul hesitated at this, before going, "What is that?"

Heart, before he could properly think or stop himself, immediately let the words gush out from between his trembling lips. "Oh, that's just Mind. I overheard him talking to himself about how his guitar was out of whack and how he needs to fix it. He's been going at it for a while."

Soul nodded, before uttering, "Oh. Okay." Heart quickly dismissed himself after that. He said bye, before jogging his way down the hall. He took a few turns to avoid ramming into any walls before opening Mind's door and immediately stopping.

(pov switch to mind)

He was strangling the stupid thing. It writhed in his grip and kicked at him, but there was already a clear winner in the question of man vs. chicken. Its mouth hung open, a silent plea for help. Mind crudely thought, Ha, I'd like to see it try and call for help for Soul, stupid ass Soul, when it can't BREATHE, Mind thought, as he felt the life slowly drain out of the damn thing.

(What had ever convinced him that spite and anger was separate from all other emotions?)

He heard his door open, and he turned to see Heart step in. He looked like he had just cried. Makes sense.

Mind was jerked back to the attention of Darrel, though, when he felt one of its claws manage to catch his arm. He hissed, muttering, "Oh, you stupid little…" before banging Darrel's head onto the ground.

He did it a couple times, before hearing an audible crack. The chicken went limp. He dragged the avian's dead body up, hanging it by its throat, as he witnessed Heart's wings somewhat flare at the thought of what he did to Darrel. It was ironic, really, he guessed that two stupid bird brains really did think alike.

Gripping Darrel’s fresh carcass, he shot Heart a trite look, whispering, “Soul isn’t out there, correct?”

Heart shook his head, looking a bit guilty.

Peering up at him with an inquisitive look, Mind slowly continued, “...Okay. We’ll need to get going to the kitchen then. He’d probably wonder where we obtained such impressive poultry if he caught us with it. Why do you look so uncertain, Heart?”

The man in question took a step back. Juno tilted his head, muttering something along the lines of “nothing, nothing, let’s go” and Mind felt a sprout of dread awaken in his stomach. Had his emotional side accidentally let something slip to Soul? He would have to pry.

“Oh, yes, of course. There’s no reason why we would run into that monarch, right?” Mind vaguely accused, and Heart swayed on the balls of his feet. He didn’t say anything more.

“You wouldn’t let anything slip, would you, Heart?” he asked.

“Oh. No, it wasn’t like that. How little do you think of me?”

“Very little.”

“Oh, of course.”

They made their way to the kitchen, an undercurrent of distrust between them, the connecting factor of… Dead bird. 

When they made it, Mind pulled out a shoddily cleaned kitchen knife. He skinned Darrel, ripping the breast pieces of meat off of surrounding flesh, washing it, and looking at his handiwork. It was messy, but it would have to do.

He slowly turned to Heart, before saying, "Okay, you will obviously be entrusted with no cooking since you managed to make basic cup noodles taste relatively terrible compared to its typical precedent."

Heart slumped at this, twitching in annoyance at Mind’s general pretentiousness, but perked up when Mind added, "-but you can make the batter. 2 eggs in a bowl for the egg wash. Get another bowl and put in flour. Please put salt, pepper, and paprika in the flour. Bland flour tastes terrible on chicken. Do a dip in the egg wash. Then coat it in breadcrumbs. We'll have to put the other spices on throughout, because we clearly don't have time for a marinade." 

Heart rushed to get everything ready, while Mind washed the pieces of meat one final time, prepped their airfryer, and turned as Heart finished up.

Mind brought the pieces of chicken over, coating it in the egg, dredging it, and putting the breadcrumbs on it. He put on as many spices as Mind assumed Soul would like. He put it in the airfryer, drummed his fingers against the counter, and grimly stated, "And now…"

"We wait."