Heartache, heartache…

Dollface stood up from the porch swing, not recognizing it as Michael's.

She must've shifted in the Liminal while sleeping.

She looked over one shoulder to the distance, seeing the shadows of a city with looming buildings. Dollface looked to the door closest to her, a radio crackling out a side window. This Liminal was empty and looming, the colors grainy and raw like an old color television set.

My love for you is only heartache…

She grabbed the handle, highly aware that this was not Michael's domain.

Dollface jiggled the knob, then searched the bib pocket of her overalls minidress and found a key. Once inside, she found herself in a seventies-style living room in shades of mustard and rust.

Tacky, but homey. It reminded her of the pictures in magazines her grandmother would see and sigh when Dollface was just a toddler.

Dollface felt a pang in her stomach, the scar of being a dumped puppy who sucked up her beloved guardians' retirement plans and money.

She had to wonder, what was it like to be wanted by parents?

Your kiss was such a sacred thing to me…

She tiptoed past the room of couches and lamps and into a hallway lined with family photos and certificates. Dollface barely looked at any of them as she passed, the only information she gathered were three young children and two, smiling, proud parents.

The kind she'd see in Gramma's magazines, making her realize that she was out of place here.

Dollface was intruding in someone else's Liminal.

This house smelled wonderful, like citrus and Love's Baby Soft Perfume, the kind she'd wear on stage, and a hint of men's cologne, but not the kind that Afton would drown himself and those around him in.

Something more humble and musky, maybe even lightly spiced.

But definitely not like the man everyone claimed to be Dollface's father had worn on his unexpected intrusion.

I can't believe it's just a burning memory.

She could feel someone ambiently shining in the kitchen down the hall. She could also hear them humming.

Hear, not feel.

Of all the Liminals she'd absently wandered into, she'd never heard someone audibly using their voice inside their Liminal. This was a strange, grounding comfort.

Dollface shyly peaked through the doorway of a very seventies kitchen, the liminal dweller's back turned to her. The kitchen was wood paneled with a yellow sunflower banner along with the ceiling, with random splashes of red cutlery or blue decorations. At the large dining table sat a shabby gray rabbit in a high chair, as if it were a baby. From what she could see, the Liminal's resident was wearing a suit without the jacket and had just-above-shoulder-length, wavy hair.

It was fluffy and looked soft.

She held onto the doorframe, nervous, her mouth dry.

"Where have you been, conejita?"

Dollface looked around the kitchen as a distinctly male voice hummed to the radio as it played the instrumental break of 'Heartaches', by Al Bowlly.

Her Grandparents had loved Al Bowlly. To her, the crackling, popping vinyl she often heard when arriving home from school in Autumn was something she purely associated with her out-of-touch, too-young-to-be grandparents and their cheesy love stories.

"You can come in, Sophie." He said, not turning around. His voice sounded familiar and warm, no malice detected.

"Go ahead, sit," He said, eagerly. This Liminal's resident had a strange accent, one she couldn't place, "Are you hungry, Sophie?"

Dollface searched the long table for a place to sit, bashful.

He pulled out a barstool at the blue marble-topped island and picked up a paring knife, face still turned away from her. Dollface nervously sat down next to him as he sliced the red apple, dark gray skin turning gold in the rosy evening light from where she peered around him.

He offered her a slice. She shook her head, shining, No thanks.

I am not Sophie, Dollface said, shaking. She'd already put herself too far in, Dollface felt her mouth well up with metallic liquids. What if this person became angry? Anger would easily turn into violence, Dollface knew that well.

A sudden, violent temper was a dance she was all-too-familiar with.

I'm sorry, I prol'ly shouldn't be here…

He finally turned to her fully and sliced off a piece of apple and offered it to her. Dollface looked into his gray face, now recognizing him as the father in the family photos in the hall.

He grinned widely at her with straight, white teeth, taking a slice for himself. His face briefly flickered, something common in Liminal Spaces. He took a slice for himself.

She stared at his smile, finding it similar to Afton's, but more genuine and kind. It must've been the way his dark eyes squished or how his eyebrows raised. "Then who are you?"

Ummmmmm….

In every smiling picture of Afton, it seemed that his eyes stayed cold and untouched. The last smile she could remember of his was that of his bunny suit's wide-eyed, jaw-clench grin.

Dollface winced at the thought of the rabbit she'd seen inside of the rotting husk of Freddy's and tried to mirror the stranger's sign of welcome as best she could, M'name's Dollface. Who're you?

He smiled again, this time much more diminished and pulled her into a side hug, shining his thoughts, then said, "I'm Jack."

She tried not to squirm in protest and breathed in his cologne, the scent of musk, citrus, and lemongrass. She found this stranger felt safer than most people she knew in the outside world. Realizing that she hadn't had a real hug in a very long time, she turned the side hug into a full hug.

Jack was openly surprised by this.

"If you've found your way here, then you must be here for a reason."

Dollface could hear his voice from where she was buried in his chest, a rumble, as well as in the back of her head from where he resided in the shine.

She wanted to stay there forever, in that space between him and his voice. As strange as this situation was, she felt homesick.

Dollface now felt bad for taking advantage of someone clearly grieving and pulled away from where he gently held her.

"Why do you shine like Sophie?"

Heartache, heartache…

A few moments of silence followed, Dollface keeping herself quiet as the radio played on.

There's a lot o'us. I've known Michael since '85.

She pulled away, watching him think.

He put a hand over his face and slinked through the kitchen and sat on the couch.

Jack? Dollface stood stiffly next to him, watching him. She looked at his face with the same expression a small child would watch someone with, almond eyes surprisingly bright.

The brightest they'd been in weeks.

He rubbed his hollowed cheek, "What year is this?"

Dollface took a second to think. She took it to sit and hold his arm, not sure why she was doing it.

Michael said that time, or atleast the time around them, changed quite a lot.

Dollface brushed that silly thought away and said, 1987.

"Month, day?"

August 19, 1987.

"The calendar says it's June 11, 1974."

Michael had once warned her she should be careful whenever staying in Liminals or the floaty goo that separated each one.

It was easy to get lost, and it appeared that 'Jack' had not gotten that memo.

Dollface leaned into Jack, not quite sure why she should make herself so comfortable around him, a strange man lost in time.

Strange men, regardless of where and when they were, were scary and dangerous, Dollface had learned that the hard way through William. She couldn't remember why she was so scared of him, but she remembered that he made her skin crawl.

A question mark hung in the air as Jack flipped his palm over so that she could see it better, her fingers working towards his.

She wanted to memorize every piece of 'Jack' as the radio kept playing in the bright kitchen.

He had no color, just shades of black, white and gray, like an old photograph. She studied his arm, its hair and sinewy muscles.

Once again remembering that her experience of the world was limited to Elmore. She pressed her palm against his and saw how large his hands were.

Not even just to hers, Jack's hands were just large. As big as Michael's or her missing uncle's, both of which were 6'7.

Dollface studied the only thing in color on Jack, a shiny gold wedding band. She bent the joints in his hand, starting at the knuckles and working to the fingertips.

In all her wandering through the Liminal, never had she seen someone who lacked this much color. A strange boy who lived in a trench and had green skin? Yes, but someone who lacked so much color even in a picture-perfect Space?

No, quite strange.

Studying the palm again, Dollface's attention was turned back to Jack.

"Dollface."

They met eyes, and Dollface quickly avoided contact with his. What she managed to grasp was how dark, and wide his eyes were, ringed with the beginning of wrinkles.

"That's a strange name," he said, words slightly slurred as a quality of his accent, "May I ask?"

Dollface's eyes shifted around, unsure of how much to give away about herself, most of her life having proven a lie recently, My bio dad's a toymaker. My sister has a normal name. He liked her more.

"How do you know that?"

The Liminal fell silent, filling with words she wanted desperately to say, then she decided to just say, For starters, her name's Regina, an'she gets th'birthday cards with money in 'em.

Jack laughed out loud, something she wasn't used to off-stage nowadays.

It seemed that even her friends didn't find her funny anymore.

Had Dollface actually said something funny by accident, or had he felt sorry for her?

She worked her way back up to Jack's shoulder, not quite sure what she was looking for. It was obvious he had no color, but what was the cause of this?

Dollface got up on her knees and hesitantly raked the side of his hair back with a shaking hand. She kept pulling it back.

No color.

"What happened to you?"

Dollface pretended to ignore the question, studying the silver strands peppered in his black hair.

His eyes flicked to her, watching her.

I don't remember anything. Michael's gone though.

"Who is Michael?"

My friend. He's gone.

She backed away from his reaching hand, eyes shutting in anticipation.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

She winced when she felt her jaw be cradled and opened her eyes.

"You can't poke people and not expect one back," He grinned again, that same, strange way he did.

Still shying away she put a hand over his, Dollface down cast her eyes, I-

"You have to leave."

"Hm?" She accidentally said outlet.

"Leave, right now," Dark eyes intense, Jack pulled stood, grabbing her hand, "Go."

What's goin' o-