When Fresh was finished in the kitchen, he looked around for Ink. He wanted to talk to him some more. Ink still seemed upset about the way Fresh was doing things. That was Fresh's guess, anyway.
"Ink? Where ya at, broski?" Fresh called out, as he looked around the house.
Oh, he's wandered outside. Maybe you should go find him..before he catchescold.
The voice chuckled, seeming fond of the potential outcome.
"And how would ya kno' where he went?" Fresh asked suspiciously.
The voice tsk'ed.
You obviously knownothingof our culture, mortal. We have a hive mind, and we can communicate over vast areas. Besides, we don't want our little toy to freeze to death out there..not that he could..
The voice paused for a moment, before picking up.
And now..he seems to be heading towards the town? What in the world is he doing..?
Fresh's glasses showed four dots as he mulled those words over. Something didn't feel right.
"Why ya suddenly so helpful?" He asked slowly, standing in the living room.
No, you just shut your mouth. This is important, unlikeyou.
The voice seemed..strangely uninterested in Fresh. Its tone was..urgent.Was Ink doing something in the town?
Thatidiot!*Does he think he's going to rid himself of us by taking his life? What a fool. Well, may he suffer the consequences! I highly doubtyou'lltry to stop him.
"What-" Fresh whispered, running out the door; his sights peeled for Ink's tracks, he ran towards the town.
Wow, you're actuallydoingsomething! Why do you evencare?What incentive do you have? Other than the fact that he's a commodity, of course.
"Shut up!" Fresh snapped, scanning the snow and searching for signs that Ink had gone off the usual path.
As you wish..
The voice went quiet, and Fresh was left to wander in the forest, looking for tracks that..simply weren't there. Fresh slowed, confusion crossing his face. He crouched down and examined the snow. Ink's footprints were definitely there, but...they were long and close together. As if he were dragging his feet. Some backwards.
Fresh reached down and touched one of the foot prints.
It was partially frozen. They all were.
None of these were fresh.
He stood up slowly, glasses blank.
FRESH POOF!
Fresh appeared in his living room and his sights set on Ink's room; it was the only room he hadn't checked.
He crossed the room and knocked loudly. "Ink? Are you alright?"
A soft, muffled whimper came from inside the room; Ink was certainly in there...
I wouldn't enter, if I were you; you won't like what you find..
"You can shut up..." Fresh muttered, taking the knob and turning it.
Only to discover it locked. He pulled out a lock pick set and quickly unlocked the door.
What he found inside...
Ink was lying in his bed, his face pressed against his pillow as..he held a knife to his bone. He had taken his shirt off, at some point, and..it was bloody. Ink hadn't noticed that Fresh had entered, likely too absorbed in his pain to hear the door open or the footsteps. He trembled and let out another muffled whimper as his blade dug deeper into his ribcage, his black blood dripping down and soaking into the already-stained bedsheets below him.
He was torturing himself.
Fresh rushed forward and stopped the knife from going deeper. "Ink! Stop!"
Ink flinched back when Fresh grabbed him, breathing heavily as his tears streamed down his face. He trembled, dropping his weapon instantly as he stared at his master in silence. If there was one thing he was absolutely sure of...
It was that hewasn'tgetting off without a punishment this time.
Fresh pulled the knife out of Ink's ribs and started healing Ink's wounds. "Ink...why are you hurting yourself?"
"'C-cause I d-deserve it.." Ink stuttered, backing away from Fresh's healing magic; his ribcage and sternum were covered with blood..and his arms and hands were, too. "Wh-why are youhealingm-me..?"
"You'rehurt."Fresh frowned, as if that were obvious. "Why do you think you deserve this?"
"Be-because..because..I-I can't do a-anything right..I-I can't even s-serve food..can't take d-dishes out..I-I can't doanything!'M so..s-sostupid..a-and you won't evenp-punishme.."
Ink sobbed, quivering through his self-deprecation.
I told you that you wouldn't like it. He would have been all neat and tidy, had you just waited a few hours, but, no, you had to see what he was up to...I certainly hope you've learned something from this.
"Ink...you're not stupid. You're doing great, okay? You're doing just fine." Fresh reached out to him, concerned; he needed to treat those cuts.
"Th-then why..wh-why didn't you h-have me do things..?" Ink asked; his tone seemed..rather desperate. "Why d-d-don't you p-punish me? I don't..u-understand..why are you s-sodifferent?!"
Ink backed away further, leaning near the edge of the bed to get away from Fresh..it was obvious that he wasn't comfortable right now..he needed to calm down.
"Easy there, Ink...I'll answer your questions, but I need you to calm down..." Fresh pulled his hands back, keeping them where Ink could see them. "Take deeps breaths now. In...and out..."
Ink looked at Fresh with apprehension, but he eventually obeyed, breathing slower and slower, until he was calm..or, at least..not crying anymore.
"..Aren't you gonna punish me?" He asked first, fighting back tears.
"You've done nothing wrong. You haven't broken any of my rules." Fresh said calmly.
Ink had hurt himself.Badly.But what was Fresh supposed to do? He wasn't going to punish Ink forthat.How would he even do that, without hurting him more?
"But..I obviously disappointed you." Ink replied, looking down; he didn'tdeserveto look at his master. "You..insisted on doing everything on your own. That means I'm a disappointment. Disappointing slaves deserve punishment..."
Ink sighed, before staring at his stained bedsheets.
"And ifyouaren't going to do it..I will."
"You aren't a disappointment, Ink." Fresh sighed. "Looks like we got some miscommunication. I'm just used to doing things myself, and I don't like the idea of overworking you."
"That doesn't change anything." Ink stated, his voice firm..perhaps a bittoofirm. "I'm aslave,and I'm used to working for my masters; I take great joy in it when I make them happy...when I makeyouhappy. I can't just..sit off to the side andwatch.If I do, I feel like I'm not doing enough..and I deserve pain for that."
"...That right." Fresh looked down at the blood on the bed. "Looks to me like you hurt yourself plenty."
"..Not enough." Ink shook his skull. "Nothardlyenough. My old master would have tortured me for hours for just stepping oneinchout of line.."
Ink looked up at Fresh, shivering slightly as he stared up at his master with fearful eyelights.
"You..youdon't.."He choked out. "And I don't..I don't know how tohandlethat.."
"...I'm sorry, Ink. I didn't mean to upset you, but I don't see any reason to hurt you. Not when you already are." Fresh frowned sympathetically, shaking his head. "Especially when you aren't in full control of yourself."
"I..I'mfullyin control of myself..." Ink testified, on the verge of hyperventilating. "I-I'm right..my..my views are..they'reright..you..you need t-to learn..I-I can't let you d-down.."
"You aren't going to let me down. I can assure that. You can start by calming down." Fresh spoke in a calming voice. "Deep breaths, remember? In...and out..."
Ink followed along once more, breathing slower and slower..until he was too emotionally exhausted to continue panicking. He settled down, his flow of tears finally stopping fully, and he looked at Fresh with a half-frown, at least realizing the reality of the situation: Fresh had walked in on him while he was punishing himself.
"..I.." He started, not exactly sure what to say. "Uh..sorry for..freaking out. It won't happen again. I just..didn't expect you to walk in; I guess I should have."
Ink looked down at his blade, sighing.
"I don't know what I was thinking; I guess I can't even punish myself right..I'm sorry about the sheets." Ink apologized. "I know how to clean blood out..I can wash them before bed. I'll do it outside or have something under me in the future.."
"Ink...come here." Fresh beckoned him towards him; he was quick to clarify, but knew it wasn't what Ink wanted to hear. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I need you over here."
Ink sighed, crawling over to his master and sitting before him, fiddling his bloodstained fingers as he waited for whatever was to come. He knew Fresh had said he wouldn't hurt him, but..
He really hoped he would.
Fresh removed his glasses so he could look Ink in the eye. Setting them aside, he took Ink's hands and held them gently. "Ink, I know you don't believe me right now, but youdon'tdeserve to be hurt. You've donenothing wrong.It may be hard to believe, but its the truth. You've been doingsowell. Better than others would in your position."
Fresh realized he needed to fix this. He needed to remind Ink of all the good he had done. Because, if it hadn't been for Fresh, they wouldn't be in this situation. If Fresh hadn't been trying to prove a point to the corruption demon, then he would have let Ink help more or simply done it all. Instead, he insisted on doing the majority, and it had led to Ink questioning his self worth. He needed to remember to take things slower - too fast, and it would leave Ink confused.
"But..I let you down." Ink said, not seeming to understand Fresh's logic. "You wouldn't let me help out...that's a sign that a master isn't satisfied..that he thinks that his slave would just fumble even the mostsimpletasks..Imusthave donesomethingwrong.."
"The reason I wanted to do it myself was because you did a lot earlier today. Like I told you earlier today, I don't want you to overwork yourself." Fresh explained; he wished he could explain the full reason, the entire thing to Ink, but that would have to wait. "I didn't mean to hurt you. To make you think you weren't good enough. I'm sorry."
"..Masters don't apologize." Ink looked down, staring at his bloody torso. "They torture.."
"Well, this one does." Fresh comforted lightly; he gently lifted Ink's chin, giving him a soft look. "And I see no reason to torture or hurt you when you already are."
"..It feels wrong..hearing those words.." Ink admitted. "You're so different from what I'm used to..why couldn't you just benormal?I could have handled normal..I don't know how to handle this..thiskindness.."
"Normal is relative. What's strange for one person, is normal for another. Getting used to a new normal takes time." Fresh explained calmly. "You'll get used to it. We'll have our ups and downs in the meantime, but you'll get there."
"..If you say so." Ink nodded. "I apologize for my insolence; I'll do better in the future."
"I know you will. It'll just take time." Fresh smiled kindly, tilting his head. "Do you need a hug?"
"..I don't want to get blood on your clothes."
"That doesn't sound like a 'no'." Fresh raised a brow and asked, "Ya said ya kno' how ta wash blood out, yeah?"
Ink had already said he would wash the sheets. If Fresh had him wash his clothes as well, then he would have more to do; that could help him.
"..Do youwantme to hug you?" Ink looked up at his master, his eyelights giving a hopeful look.
Fresh nodded, holding out his arms. If this was how he was going to help Ink, then he would let the other word it however he wanted. Ink slowly rested himself against Fresh, wrapping his arms around his master loosely; he..didn't want to let go, though.
Fresh wrapped his own arms around Ink, mindful of the cuts and and wounds. He rested his skull next to Ink's. "There we go...thank you."
Ink buried his skull in Fresh's shirt, savoring the comfort..he didn't want to have to do this again. He didn't want to impose like this again.
"I'm so..confused.."Ink confessed. "I don't know what to do.."
"I kno'. Dat's why I'm 'ere. I'll help you through dis." Fresh said softly, gently rubbing the back of Ink's skull; he was hesitant to rub his back with all the cuts on his ribs. "Righ' now, in dis moment, we'll jus' hug."
"..Okay."
Fresh kept holding Ink for as long as the other needed; he didn't mind the blood, just making a mental reminder to patch Ink up after this. The hug lasted for..quite a while. Over two hours of hugging had elapsed when Fresh's little "friend" decided he had had enough.
Will you just let him go, already?!
He still needs this.Fresh replied simply, tightening his hold ever so slightly; he didn't want to argue with the voice, but he wasn't going to stop just for its sake.
Ugh, you're going to be here for an eternity if you don't let go first; custom dictates thatmastersare the only ones who can end displays of affection! He literally will not let go unless you do first,idiot!
Guess we'll be here a little longer then.So Fresh was still feeling spiteful, it seemed.
He continued to hug Ink. By this point, Ink was now in his lap. It was more comfortable like this. After two hours of hugging, the blood covering Ink had also solidified; it would likely be a pain to take care of later..
Fresh shifted and looked down when he felt his shirt was stiff. It would seem he had made a mistake somewhere...
Well, only one thing to do about this.
"Ink? We need to take care of your injuries." Fresh started, lifting his head to look at the other skeleton.
"Oh..I guess so.." Ink nodded, ending the hug and looking down. "..It's dry; I can just put my shirt back on."
"Let's go get 'em cleaned up. Ya need help ta da bathroom?" Fresh asked, handing Ink his shirt anyway.
"No, I can manage." Ink assured, standing up. "You don't need to help; I can handle it."
Ink was great at dealing with injuries - especially when he wasn't going to deal with them at all!
"Hmm...I hav' bandages in the bathroom. I'll show ya where." Fresh insisted. "You can take care o' dem yerself, but I wanna make sure deyaretaken care of."
"All right.." Ink followed Fresh to the bathroom, not wanting to argue..arguing was disobedience.
Fresh pulled out a medkit and extra bandages from under the sink and handed them to Ink. He then crossed his arms, not planning on leaving until he saw Ink take care of himself. Ink stared at Fresh for an uncomfortable amount of time before realizing that fact. When he finally did, he sighed and began to treat his wounds..although, he made sure to make it messy; he didn't deserve to be healed perfectly, after all.
Fresh narrowed his sockets and sat on the edge of the tub; slowly, he said in a scolding tone, "Ink...now, I kno' ya can do better den dat. I want those bandages neat."
"..Yes, Fresh.." Ink sighed, obeying..although, he didn't want to; such was the life of a slave.
Fresh sighed, resisting the urge to rub his sockets. He finally ordered something of Ink, and he felt more like he was scolding one of his kids.
After an hour of slow bandaging, Ink was fully wrapped up, and he looked to Fresh.
"Is thisacceptable?"He asked, with a hint of annoyance; he likely didn't mean for it to come out that way..his mind wasn't alone right now, after all.
"It will do. Now, I believe ya got some laundry ta do." Fresh raised a brow. "I'll change an' meet ya in da laundry room."
"Yes, Fresh." Ink sighed, putting his shirt on and leaving the room to collect his stained sheets.
I like the new tone. Not quite the right thing touseit for, but good tone. Let it know who's incontrol.
"You can shut up..." Fresh sighed tiredly, standing up. "I'm makin' sure he's takin' care o' himself, not bein' yer type."
He left the bathroom and entered his room, where he opened his dresser and pulled out a clean shirt and shorts.
Just give it some time. Speaking oftime...
A pause.
It's about time for you to face a little painyourself,isn't it?
Fresh sighed and changed his clothes. He supposed he had brought this one on himself; he'd been pushing it an awful lot today. Butboy,had it felt good, too.
He picked up his dirty clothes, including his jacket, and started to leave the room.
Go outside after this..and we can have somefun...
When Fresh entered the laundry room, Ink was there, preparing a load of laundry.
"Here's da clothes." Fresh placed them in an empty basket; he looked tired, and with his glasses still in the living room, one could see how small his eyelights were.
Ink simply nodded, focusing on his work; he didn't spare a glance at Fresh. He was fighting his own mental battle, even though he wasn't aware of it.
Let's get moving.
"I'm gonna step out for a mo. I'll be in the forest, if ya need me." Fresh informed quietly, hesitating.
"Yes, Fresh.." Ink sighed, continuing with his work; he probably needed to grab any other dirty clothes there might have been in the house, too..and change..
Fresh nodded; he supposed that was the best he could get. He left the laundry room and walked out the front door; it was still open from before. What would have happened had he not checked the snow? If he had gotten all the way to town? What would he have come back to? Fresh sighed, and a puff of air left him. He closed the door behind him and started into the forest, hands in his pockets. He looked smaller without his jacket, the eye-blinding colors making him seem wider than he was. Without those or his glasses, he looked like any other Sans.
I just got awonderfulidea! How about we show you what your littleslave'spunishments were like? That should be interesting! I wonder..can youhandleit?
Since the pain hadn't started yet, the voice likely wanted Fresh to move farther away from the cabin, just in case. Fresh sneered, refusing to show the fear he felt. Focusing on the anger he felt towards the thing helped.
He walked at a steady pace, unhurried. Maybe someone would come along to delay this.
That didn't seem as if it would be the case, unfortunately. When Fresh was far away from the cabin, the pain began. This pain..wasexcruciating.It made sense; Ink was an immortal, and any pain used as a punishment against him would have needed to be intense.
This pain was certainly intense.
"AAAAHHHH!"Fresh collapsed to the snow, unable to even catch himself. He curled into himself and squeezed his sockets shut, tears already forming.
The voice chuckled as the pain continued, burning at Fresh's bones and violently pulsing through his marrow. It seemed that Ink had been through a lot in his life, if this was what a"punishment"constituted. Fresh whimpered and writhed in the snow, trying to find a position that minimized the pain. There was none. It just kept hurting.
And he had thought Fate was bad. She wasnothing,compared to this!
This is what Ink went through? This is what he had to deal with? No wonder Fresh's methods confused him. How long had Ink dealt with this? How often had he been punished? He must have been broken down early on..over and over..until he became what he was today.
Would that happen to Fresh, too?
When he could think more clearly, Fresh would vehemently deny he would break. He was in unimaginable pain, his thoughts blanking in response, and he couldn't stop it. But he would preserve; he would hold on.
For Dream and Nightmare.
For TK and the Time Watchers.
For the Murder Club.
For Inky and Error.
For Gaster and his kids.
For the other guardians and everyone who counted on them.
Even for little Fate.
And most importantly...
For Ink.
...
But those promises would have to wait. Fresh couldn't even lift his head without crying out. His vision was white with pain. It hurt even to breathe-
The pain somehow became more excruciating as he considered those he wanted to protect. It could hear his thoughts, after all..and bad thoughts needed to bepunished.
Ten minutes had passed, and the pain didn't seem to be getting any easier to handle; the demon in Fresh's mind clearly wasn't going to let him off so easy this time. Every time Fresh tried to think, to rebel..it gotworse.
More time passed. Fresh didn't know how long, he didn't really care right now. He didn't care about anything. He couldn't think of anything. He just wanted the pain tostop!
You could trybegging...
"N- n- never..." Fresh gasped, breathing heavy.
He was laid out on his back, staring up at the treetops. The cavern lights streamed through. Combined with the sparkling snow and a light breeze, it gave the forest a soothing atmosphere.
Too bad Fresh couldn't enjoy it.
The pain increased even more, surging through his body faster and harder, and all the while..
You could trybegging.
You could trybegging.
You could trybegging.
You could trybegging.
You could trybegging.
You could trybegging.
You could trybegging.
You could trybegging.
You could trybegging.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"Fresh screamed, arching his back in response.
It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt!
The words echoed in his skull, chipping away at his resolve. He couldn't give in, though; if he gave in now, then it would be harder to hold on later. He couldn't give it what it wanted. Hecouldn't!
And then it stopped.
The pain stopped, and the echoes stopped. It was as if he hadn't been suffering at all.
We can continue this later..and wewillcontinue it..later. Go home. Get some rest.
You'll need it.
Fresh panted, but he nodded. His body felt sore, and he was exhausted. He could barely think, let alone move. He crawled to a tree and used it to pull himself to his feet. He swallowed, breath shuddering. The landscape swam in front of him, making him unsteady. He closed his sockets and took deep breaths to calm himself.
After a moment, he pushed off the tree and stumbled back to the house.
He leaned against the door when he got there, pressing his forehead onto the wooden structure. He needed a moment to catch his breath.
It seemed Ink had been waiting for him; as soon as he touched the door, Ink opened it. He instantly hugged his master, whispering apologies and reassurances.
"I'm sorry..I-I don't know why I said those things..you're a g-great master..I'm so sorry for making you feel bad!" Ink hugged Fresh tightly, but not too tightly.
"...It's not yer fault, Ink." Fresh hugged the other back, being gentle as well. Even when he had to lean on Ink for support. "I told ya...ya aren't in full control right now..."
"..What do you mean?" Ink didn't understand. "I'm in control.."
"I...I spoke ta someone, to learn more about the corruption demons. They use subliminal messages ta control ya, even after ya free." Fresh said quickly, not revealing where he got the information. It was true, and Ink had seen him reading the rules before. He'd asked him questions; it would make sense he would ask.
But hopefully, Ink would realize no one in Littleverse knew about these sorts of things. Not until Ink showed up.
"..What..?"Ink asked, his voice a painfully-quiet squeak.
He..he had never heard of that before. But..it would have explained a lot. It would have..but..they couldn't interact unless..
They were already here...
"Yeah...it's why ya been so...not yaself." Fresh settled on, pulling back to look down at Ink; the tear tracks, smudged from the snow, were still there. "I'm sorry..."
Ink looked up at Fresh, and this time, he noted his master's condition.
"..Are you all right?" He questioned, now worried about..everything.
"...No. I'm not." Fresh shook his head. "I-I need ta sit down."
Standing was getting really hard, his limbs shaky. With Ink's injuries, he didn't want to accidently collapse on him.
"I've got you." Ink assured, pushing his other problems away in favor of taking care of his master; his master was his priority right now.
Ink took him to Fresh's bedroom, where Ink set his master in bed and tucked him in.
"What's wrong?" He asked, as he made his master comfortable. "Do you want anything?"
"...I wish I could tell ya" Fresh settled on, leaning back on his pillow with a sigh; he was too tired to come up with anything else. "I just need some rest."
"All right." Ink nodded, accepting that answer. "If you need anything, just let me know; I'll be here, unless you don't want me to be."
"I want you here. Please." Fresh pulled a hand out from the covers and took Ink's hand.
It felt wrong to be relying on Ink like this. To be placing so much responsibility on someone else who been through so much worse than him. But he couldn't do this alone. He needed someone who could recognize the signs. Who hadsomechance of stopping him. If even a little...
"I'll stay, then." Ink offered a comforting smile, gripping Fresh's hand firmly. "I won't leave. You're safe; you're protected."
"Thanks, broski..." Fresh smiled lightly, feeling relieved. He sighed and just sorta stared at Ink; he didn't really want to sleep, but he felt he had little choice. He was just so tired.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Ink offered, after a little silence.
Fresh sighed and closed his sockets briefly. "I wish I could..."
"..." Ink frowned; his master was obviously not feeling well..but he had to tell him if he suspected that their enemies were already here.. "Um..about the subliminal stuff..demons can only interact with beings that they're in the same multiverse as..which means they're here.."
"...That checks out." Fresh sighed, before quickly adding, almost desperate. "Ink. I need to warn the kids. Call TK on my phone. And notice the changes."
"Uh, okay?" Ink tilted his skull, not quite understanding what Fresh was trying to convey.
He picked up Fresh's phone and called TK.
"Do you want to talk to him, or should I do it?" He asked, as the phone rang.
"You'll be able to actually explain it." Fresh said, face pinched with worry.
The phone clicked, and a young voice answered. [Hello?]
"Uh, hi, TK." Ink greeted, holding the phone up to his face; when was the last time he had used a phone..? Usually, Broomie had just told him everything he needed to know before anyone had to call him... "It's Ink. The demons are here; they're not really attacking or anything yet, but we need to be on guard, yanno?"
[They're here? Are you sure?] TK asked in surprise.
"Yeah, they're trying to mess with my mind a little." Ink sighed. "And Fresh isn't looking too good..I don't know if they're trying to mess with him, too..but theymightbe..?"
Ink frowned at his master, seeming unsure about the whole thing. Fresh perked up that, hope in his sockets. If Ink was starting to put together the pieces...
[That's not good...did you check with that baby?] TK asked.
"Uh, no? She's with one of the neighbors."
[Why? I thought you supposed to take care of her.]
"Because I'm too dangerous..it's a long story." Ink sighed. "Just let everyone know, and make sure they know to pay attention for weird things."
[Got it. What sort of weird things?]
Fresh sighed, sinking into his pillow. He hadn't been worried aboutInkultimately hurting the kids; he was worried whathewould do to them.
"Talking to themselves, acting irrationally, acting weird in general, not associating as much with others, and stuff that would be out of the ordinary." Ink listed. "Oh, also, if someone's visibly straining to do something, but they can't, that likely means that they're trying to yell for help, but they can't; that's basically a dead giveaway."
Fresh was tempted to try that right now. If all he needed to do was try to yell, then he should have done that sooner. And right now, he could barely move, so that limited the harm he could do. Maybe...
He let go of Ink's hand, just in case, and he opened his mouth.
[Got it. We'll keep an eye out. Anything else?" TK continued.
You really think I'd let youtry?I think it's time for you to get somerest.
"Uh, I don't think so." Ink was occupied with the call. "But, uh, call Fresh if anything suspicious happens; a false alarm is better than overlooking something serious."
[Roger that. We'll- Hey! Put that down!]
There was athunkon the other side of the phone.
[Gotta go. Mishap got into the sugar again. Aaaand, now he has a sword. Bye!] The phone shut off with a definitive click.
Meanwhile, Fresh was trying to stay awake. He scooted up to sit up; he had to try again. His hints weren't working. He needed to try something else.
Go to sleep.
Ink chuckled at the noises in the background, before saying a soft goodbye after the call had already ended. He turned to see Fresh, smiling brightly. Fresh swayed and gripped his head; his vision darkened at the edges, and he had to blink. The command echoed in his skull,extremelypersuasive.
He needed to hold on for a little longer. He needed to warn Ink...
"You seem tired.." Ink noticed. "Do you need to get some rest? Here.."
Ink tucked the covers around Fresh, making him more comfortable, and smiled softly.
"I'll be here." Ink assured. "You can rest now."
Sleep.
Fresh tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Not a sound escaped his mouth.
With the combination of his exhaustion from the punishment, the day itself, the comfort of the bed, and the persuasive suggestions in his own head...
Fresh couldn't stop himself from closing his sockets, and falling asleep.
Ink smiled, standing up and leaving Fresh to sleep; he didn't want to disturb his master's rest.
As soon as Ink closed the bedroom door, he sighed in relief; he had been so worried..Fresh had been gone for five hours! They had been the longest five hours of his life..he hadn't known he could do that much pacing. He sighed, going into the kitchen to prepare a meal; Fresh would undoubtedly be hungry when he woke up, and Ink had no reason to deprive his master of food. Ink decided to make somethingspecial;his master deserved only thebest,after all! He hummed a small tune as he opened the fridge, pulling out some..hm..Ink would need to get Fresh some groceries soon. Ink sighed, closing the fridge and opening a code bar. He created some chicken and vegetables before pulling out a cutting board and starting on the chicken.
As Ink prepped the meal, his thoughts drifted to his master. Fresh..hadn't been acting normally for the past day or so. However..Ink hadn't known him that long; it could have just been normal for Fresh. Ink certainly didn't want to accuse his master of anything, especially when he had no proof that anything out of the ordinary was going on; for all he knew, it was just his everlasting enemies poking around in his mind. Speaking of them..how had Fresh known about the subliminal suggestions? Ink hadn't told him, and..he highly doubted that anyone in this multiverse would have knownthatmuch about beings fromInk'smultiverse..unless they were here too, but not as advanced?
Ink put the prepped chicken into a pan and started to cook it before washing his hands and beginning to prepare the vegetables. He wondered if this worlddidhave demons..they definitely could have opened a backdoor for the ones from his world, if so. But..if there were, why wasn't anyone dealing with them?Wassomeone dealing with them? He just..didn't know; he didn't know much ofanythingabout this world. Ink really needed to do some research on this place.
After finishing with the vegetables, Ink washed them off and prepared a pot; this specific batch of chicken noodle soup would be delectable! Ink thought more about his master. He frowned, thinking about how long his master had been gone...that was too long without a reason, right? And he had come back from it looking..horrible.His clothes had been wet (stupid Ink..he should have changed Fresh's clothes..he hoped his master didn't become ill from this), and he had been so exhausted. It reminded Ink of..no..he didn't want to think about that. He was free from them now...at least, for a little while. Ink put the cooked chicken into the pot and added a bit of extra seasoning to the already-seasoned food; he didn't want this to be bland!
Ink created some rolls and began to prep those, too, in case Fresh wanted to dip them into his soup. As he continued to make a few side dishes, Ink considered possible explanations for Fresh's behavior. Mental illness? Possibly, but he didn't want to be rude; Ink had several mental illnesses of his own to deal with, after all. Ink thought of ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶x̶p̶r̶e̶s̶s̶i̶o̶n̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶m̶a̶s̶t̶e̶r̶'̶s̶ ̶f̶a̶c̶e̶ other f̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶h̶o̶u̶r̶s̶ things e̶x̶h̶a̶u̶s̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ to try to figure out what was going on..but he didn't have much of an explanation, aside from eccentricity. That..couldn't be it. Fresh was already eccentric in other ways, and..he didn't think Fresh would have intentionally worried Ink like that. There was..o̶n̶e̶ ̶e̶x̶p̶l̶a̶n̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ nothing he could think of that could have explained all this.
But there had to be.
There had to be a reason.
Ink poured some noodles into the soup, watching them sink into the depths of the broth. He stirred the mixture slowly, before letting it cook some more. A few minutes later, he tested one of the noodles to make sure it was soft enough to eat. Satisfied, he turned the stove off and used a small bit of magic to keep the food warm. He wiped the tears off his face with his sleeve, but they didn't stop coming.
Because he knew.
And he hated himself for it.