Sans Au One-shots

A somber thought

This is kind of a continuation of Dream hopping, but it's more on the angst side. This takes place after Error and Ink's truce, and after Ink got a soul. (Cause he has one in this multiverse) So, yeah...

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Ink sighs softly as he stares into his mug of coffee. He watches as the hot liquid swirls around the mug. His eye lights a fuzzy light grey as he stares into the mug. It's around 1:55 in the morning already, and no one else is up. At least, not that Ink knows.

It's one of those days again.

This has been happening since he's gotten his soul. All the negativity from past rewrites and resets, usually in the back of his mind, is boiling out once more. This time wasn't about past deaths or lost friendships or even lost love lives. No. This time it was Stain and PJ. Most of the time he keeps them in mind as what he fights for. Most of the time, they give him hope that one day he would hold them once more. Most of the time, they're only found in the memory journal he has.

Yet there were days where they left the memory journal. Leaving to take up every bit of empty thoughts in Ink's mind. Leaving him to give him night terrors of the thought of possibly losing them once more. The thought that if he falls asleep, like last time, they won't be there when he wakes up. Gone from his life, and gone from everyone's memories. Leaving him to mourn. Leaving him to look. To search and find them again. See if they were on the same battlefield as before, or hoping that they were on a different battlefield. Somewhere, anywhere! So he could just hold them again. But they were never to be found. 

They had left him. Just like Swap. Just like Gin. Left him all alone. He sighs again as deep navy tears flow down his face. He watches as his tears fall into his coffee, rendering it undrinkable before he could even drink some. He watches the tears blend with his coffee. His soul pulsing with a pain he wishes he didn't feel so acutely. His finger twitches as the faint sound of a child's laughter fill the hallways. 

He remembers that.

The way Paperjam roared with laughter as he conquered his first steps by himself. How his small voice could be heard throughout the multiverse. How confused Dream and Outer were about it, and how Error had asked him about it. He denied knowing about the laughter as his feathers ruffled with the lie. He remembers that rewrite where he had found them again. He had wings, for some reason, that rewrite. He loved to fly, and he loved carrying his kids with him in their slings. 

He only had them for a little less than a year. 

He remembers the four weeks of mourning in the next rewrite. Having woken up with a slightly different backstory, a different outfit and looks, and no wings. He remembers looking down at his lap, where his kids would sleep, and seeing nothing. He remembers jumping out of his bed and looking around his house. After seeing the lack of baby clothes, extra smaller dishes, and lack of baby drawings he fell to the ground and wailed. The pain was far greater than needing a soul to feel. He remembers crawling to Broomie before creating their favorite plushies. He had called out to them, but only wailed more. He remembers Blue and Lust slamming his door open to see what was wrong. He faintly remembers Lust saying that he could be heard throughout the Multiverse, not that he cared.

He didn't eat. He didn't sleep. He didn't talk. He didn't move. He didn't do anything for four weeks but sob. He remembers that there were no attacks on any Aus in that time since both Nightmare and Dream were deeply affected by Ink's emotions. Dream couldn't be near Ink's house no matter how much he wanted to console his friend. Nightmare could've gotten stronger, but with the amount of pain rolling off of Ink, it was choking him every time he tried. Ink could almost feel the small hand grabbing onto his finers as Stain tried to walk like Ink. How Stain would-