Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was greeting children at one of the rainbow rooms after they stepped off the elevator. He brought a big box of arts & craft supplies while his sister handed out paper sheets. A while later, a child pulled on his arm.

— Mr. Goobs... — The child was looking at the floor, pouting its lips and holding a crumpled sheet of paper.

— Oh hello, little one! — He crouched at their level, putting a paw on their back, finally realizing the look on the child's face. — Oh no, what's wrong? Is that your drawing? Can I see?

It hesitantly gave their drawing to him, and he inspected it carefully. The children must have been with that familiar mirror before, because it was a drawing of Glisten holding a brush of some kind to the child's cheek. But why was this very nice drawing in that state?

— Wow, this is very nice, better than my doodles!

— No, it's ugly! — They promptly ripped the drawing out of his hands and threw it on the floor before starting to stomp on it.

Seeing the situation, Scraps started approaching them, but Goob quickly held up a paw to her and nodded. He got his attention back to the child, now looking at the drawing with dirty step marks and welling up with tears. Goob, knowing the best medicine to make someone feel better, hugged them, gently instead of giving his usual bear-wrap-around-three-times hug. The child, in turn, started sobbing softly, wetting his fur with tears and snot, which is arguably a bit gross. But the craft didn't mind, not at all. He just patted their back, hoping that they would feel better.

— There, there. Let it all out. Hey- Your drawing is beautiful.

The child wiped off their tears and nose before looking up, now their eyes puffy. — No, it's not how I want it to be, his hand is too big and the brush looks like a fork. That's what my mommy told me.

He felt himself anger a little, knowing their mother herself was putting them down. Nonetheless, he looked them in the eyes warm all the same. — Your mommy says and teaches you all kinds of important things; how to be kind, sweet, how to have manners. Sometimes, she may say mean or hurtful things, even if she doesn't realize. But it doesn't mean that they're true. What matters is how you feel about it. For me, the texture of the crayon, the fine lines of the pencil and the glued glitter make such an awesome composition! — He imitated his sister, putting his paws above his head to mimic her ears and making his voice higher, making the child snort a wet laugh. — What do you think about it?

— Well ... Mr. Glisten is very shiny, and- and I like his bow and he's very pretty and I wanna be like him- and I wanna give this to him. But it's dirty now ...

— He is very pretty ... Then we'll make another one! We have plenty of time, come on, let me help you. Mr. Glisten does like shiny things, this time we can make him all covered in glitter!

The child nodded and smiled brightly before grabbing his red paw and guiding him to their desk. He stretched the other arm to the stack of paper by his sister to pull another sheet. She smiled at him, relaxing her shoulders before attending the other children.

Scraps must be so proud!

. . .

He woke up beside the wooden crates, crying. He didn't know why he was crying, he had the sense that it was a happy dream. For a moment, he hoped this was too, a dream, but noticing the ichor-infused tears on his hands and the pain radiating from his eyes, he knew it wasn't. He started to cry, feeling scared and inexplicably alone, wandering the room again before stumbling into a desk. Between the dirty drawings was a shiny drawing of a Toon, a child, and him. The other Toon was colored in with glitter glue, and a flash of a memory overcame him. The Toon looked scared. He is very pretty. He shouldn't be scared.

A mechanical sound shocked him out of his thoughts, coming to a halt before a loud whirring noise and a bang could be heard.

Chapter Text

He had heard that noise many times, on the floors near him. Sometimes, he has crawled through the vents of the place searching for the source, but was always too late to check it out. He always wondered why the emergency stairs were collapsed and full of rubble, it would be easier to go up and down that way.

— ... Hhhehgh- COUGH!

As much as he wanted to ask if someone was there, every time he tried to talk his throat would burn and ache. He knew he drank water a while ago, maybe 2 days, maybe that's why. And he was starving. He usually manages to get by with frozen burgers in the floors that still have power, but those had been running out, too.

It was brief. The sound. People talking. So there were people still around! And he thought there was no one left. Still clutching the drawing, he wandered to a casual conversation. He struggled to see, though. Sometimes he bumped into things and saw shadows moving, only for him to search frantically and look at where they went and finding nothing. He hoped it wasn't one of those things this time.

By the bookshelves, he found them. He was too far to see their faces, though. They could be one of those scary monsters he encountered the other day! He walked slowly, silently towards them. One of the Toons looked at the other one, and its eyes opened up like two big plates.

— Glisten- Glisten, in your reflection …

That's when he saw him. The drawing was very good, but it would be nearly impossible to truly capture his beauty. Golden skin, a perfectly polished face and a delicate ribbon adorning him. Yes, looking at the drawing, it was him. But as he started running towards him, so relieved to see a known face, he looked scared again.

— Tish', oh my god.

— Snap out of it! He's not himself anymore, now go!

The blue Toon pushed him with her feather duster, out of the way right before he could hug him. It was not fair! Why didn't he want to hug him? He has not seen anyone for such a long time, and when he finds an angel he just runs away? He might never see him again, he just wanted a chance. Ignoring "Tish" completely, he chased after the mirror. He just wanted to be hugged, just for a little bit.

— No, please- Don't do this to me- GET AWAY! — And with a flash, he was gone. No. Wait, it couldn't be. He was not here anymore. Where did he go? He must be around here somewhere, unless- unless it was one of those things and shadows that were not real.

He's still alone.

He's still trapped.

. . .

— OH! Can you host the tea party AFTER getting back up? I'm DYING for some of your Bubble Tea!

— Hmm, I do not know, darling. After this we have to sort out supplies and what not. Maybe tomorrow, we do not have anything scheduled that day.

In the middle of conversation, Glisten appeared right above Poppy, falling on her back. His mirror would have cracked if not for her bouncy head, and he fell safely on the floor next to her, but now his head hurt and he felt dizzy.

— Oh goodness, Glisten! — Teagan hurried to his side, cupping his face and looking for any injury. Meanwhile, Poppy recomposed herself as if nothing happened, lifting him upright easily. — There you go! Heya Glisten! What are you doing around here?

— Well, something bad must have happened. Are you hurt, dear?

He rested against a wall, grabbing his temples and breathing rapidly. — Hahahaa! ... I'm fine. Well, not really. We have to hurry, Goob- Goob is here, and he's ... He's changed. — He looked pitifully over to the bubble. Her smile had deflated to an almost solemn expression, clenching her fists. Teagan reached out and held his hand firmly. — Looey is near, I am sure he can purchase a bit of time for us to get out of this grody place. You should rest, we will finish these last machines.

— O-Okay, but Teagan, just. — He squeezed their hand, his breath shallow and his lip trembling. — How can I tell Scraps? We knew it wasn't likely he'd survive, but to see him like this- It's all my fault, Teagan.

They sighed, looking down, furrowing slightly her eyebrows. — It was not your fault, you could not know. About Scraps, we will worry when we are on the top floor again.

And so, Glisten sat on a table near them, despite Teagan's protests about his manners, eyes closed and listening to the flow of ichor going down the machines. With this, they could power the generator enough to go down another floor and possibly look for more supplies. He opened his eyes when a ding from Poppy's machine was heard, getting off the table. — I'm feeling better, Teagan, I'll take care of your machine, you go ahead. — Teagan nodded, carefully making sure that her fur boa shawl didn't have any stains.

— Then we'll see you at the elevator! HURRY! — Poppy made sure to shout it at him before hurrying along Teagan. Now Glisten was in his zone, quickly making the light turn to green as the elevator opened. — Nothing short of perfection! — He tried motivating himself, smiling, but- none of this was fun or nice. The smile dropped and he started making his way to the elevator. A shadow blocked his way. It- He was taller than him, his fur a mess, matted and stained with ichor. His always-carefully groomed claws now overgrown and sharp, bared and pointy teeth, and now-

-and now he was crying, sobbing uncontrollably and wiping his tears. His eyes must hurt a lot, given he was holding his eyes up to them, pressing. He didn't see him, it was his chance to-

... Tisha was right, the floors being a pigsty is counterproductive, now more given he just stepped on an empty pop can.

Goob, or what is left of him, slowly looked up, smiled wide, and promptly hugged him.

The hugs he gave always were very warm and tight. But never painful, he was always so careful and gentle. Glisten thought about that while those claws tore through his bow before he teleported himself through a mirror. He bumped into Looey, who seemed surprised to see him. — Hey mirror amigo, what happened? You look like you saw Connie.

— No time to talk, just run you buffoon!

Worried but taking the situation seriously, Looey kept on running and made it to the elevator quickly, given that they still haven't patched up some of his injuries and air was escaping outside him. Glisten was far behind yet, feeling nauseous, making an effort to not vomit and to run. He was close, he was so close and the elevator was closing already and-

— GLISTEN, NO!

He almost made it, so why was Looey looking at him like that? And why was he reaching his hand towards him? And why did he feel a pair of arms envelop his waist?

Chapter Text

He remembered the last time any of them saw Goob. It was just a normal supply run, they needed soap, drinkable water and anything else they could find, so they went to the warehouse. He stocked the bowling bag he snatched from Roger’s room with various fabrics and textiles. Mostly curtains and tablecloths meant for the kid’s birthday rooms, but also found a sweater and yarn. Brightney would like it.

Trying to not think too much about it, he stuffed the balls of yarn too. He could lend them to Scraps instead or search for some books on knitting next time they went to the library. He walked to the elevator, humming some classical song Teagan showed him and dropped the bag, also dropping a Gardenview Sustainable Paper Bag™ with some soap, laundry detergent, metal polish, glass cleaner and an electronic cleaning spray for Vee.

Then he felt something brush against him. It was a feather touch, but he didn’t dare to look. How could he not hear a Twisted Toon? Was it Cosmo? They haven’t seen him in days since he stormed out to look for Sprout. No matter, he had to escape. As he turned around and instinctively screamed, flailing the bowling bag at the sound, he saw a tuft of fluffy hair.

— Ow! – He covered his mouth in surprise and embarrasment, seeing Goob dropping a bunch of water bottles, toothpaste and an entire box of dental floss in the ground, holding his head and hissing through sharp teeth.

— Oh my god, I'm so, so, sorry! – He scrambled to check his forehead, it was just textiles, but it kinda weighed a bit. He only stopped fussing over him when he heard a giggle out of his mouth. — No- don’t worry, it didn’t hurt that much- pfffft. – Incredulous, he crossed his arms in front of him and raised an eyebrow at him. What was so funny?

— I could have seriously hurt you! Why are you laughing?

— It’s just- the face you made . . .

As much as he tried to contain his smile, he only needed to look at Glisten’s look of realization and his pout to burst out laughing. As for the mirror, he could not believe he was worried he hurt him. — You know what? I should have thrown it harder at you so I could laugh at your face and the impending goose egg on your forehead! – He started picking up the items at the craft’s feet and arranging them in the upper right corner of the elevator.

Fiddling with a water bottle he picked up, Goob looked a bit guilty after he calmed down. — Hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing and your face, you look good- it was just funny, you know? – An awkward smile and a shrug wasn’t enough of an apology for Glisten, if only because he didn’t look at his puppy eyes. He continued organizing things, indifferent, until Goob sighed, crouched down and began to help him. — And I’m sorry for scaring you, and continuing to laugh after you got mad . . .

A moment of silence and quiet working passed, until Glisten looked at him again. — And I’m sorry for believing you were one of them and hitting you with a bowling ball. – He looked guilty too, but he shouldn’t be, so Goob attempted to lighten the mood. – Apology accepted, but what was in that bag? Actual bowling balls? Are you trying to get back at Shrimpo for replacing your eyeliner with permanent marker ink? – He finally cracked a smile, snickering at the thought.

— It would be a good idea, but no. Vee managed to tune in to the weather channel somehow and there’s gonna be a snowfall next week, so I tried to look for stuff to keep us warm and cozy. Hmm, we should head over to the Holiday Floors next to look for scarves and blankets- wait, why do you need so much dental floss?

— Food gets stuck in my teeth a lot, and it has a lot of uses too! You can sew clothing and suture wounds, and also cut hard plastics like PVC pipes! I read it in a pamphlet called “Unconventional Uses For Everyday Hygiene Products”.

— Wow, you read? I thought there was only fluff in your head.

— . . . Heyyyy.

As they laughed, cracked jokes and made amicable talk while bringing a water container to the elevator, they both heard a shriek coming from the parking lot. Instantly on their feet, going as fast as they could, and found Yatta barely running from a massacred Gigi, crawling on all fours with a shattered head and leaving a trail of clumped and slimy ichor behind. She was taking the candy and licking up the ichor that gushed out of the wound on Yatta’s back thigh. Quickly, Goob stood in front of her and took a scratch to the arm when he was leading Gigi away. Glisten took his brand new blue ribbon and wrapped it around Yatta’s leg, but having nothing to secure it with.

— Here, use this – He was always grateful for her, Tisha always appeared in the best of times. She handed him her spare dust cleaner, and when he finished securing it, they both lifted her up.

Scraps heard the ruckus too, and arrived in the scene to see her little bro being chased by a corrupted Gigi. Worried sick, she reached with her tail a water pipe nearby and scaled it, making sure Goob could see her. — HEY! Are you hurt? Run away from her right now! – Goob barely glanced at her and furrowed his eyebrows. — No can do! Go help Yatta to the elevator and I’ll meet you there!

— Goob, don’t be stupid!

— You stop being stupid! I’ll take care of her, stop wasting our time.

Hissing in frustration, she scaled down and ran to the group. He always put himself in these situations, that spaghetti arms. She wrapped her tail around the piñata’s torso and put her arm around her shoulder. — All the machines done, right?

— No, when i heard the scream I rushed over here to help the boys. – Tisha held Yatta from the other side as she comforted a now crying Yatta. — It burns so much- Hic!

— Dangit, Tisha! We need to get out of here STAT before anyone else gets hurt. – Glisten piped up, taking off inmediately. — I’ll go finish it, treat her in the elevator and wait there for us!

He didn’t wait for an answer from them as he got to the last machine, nearby where Goob was distracting Gigi and . . . suddenly talking to her about types of pasta? — And the Rigatoni is called that because of its ridges- DON’T pay attention to the shiny mirror, look at me! – At least it was working at keeping her focused elsewhere. As he was nearing completion, he looked over to Goob. — At the count of three, go run to the elevator!

— One! – Come on.

— Two! – Almost there . . .

But it couldn’t be that easy, could it? Their luck had to run out. As soon as he finished the machine, the ding stole the attention from Gigi and she came furiously crawling towards him. In his panic, he couldn’t move and she swiped at his ankles, making him fall to the ground in pain. Coming to his senses he mirrored to where Goob was, stumbling into his chest, dizzy, and Gigi quickly caught up with them. The ichor hand swiped and Goob hugged him close to him, turning away from Gigi as she clawed at his back and Glisten’s shoulder.

— Goob! – He watched the craft painfully grunt but take him away, still carrying him. The elevator was far, the door already closing, Goob was seriously hurt and they weren’t fast enough to outrun her. Well, Goob was. — Leave me here, or none of us are gonna make it!

Goob looked pensive, focused, staring straight ahead. He ignored him.

— Goob PLEASE! – Why was he not listening!?

— No. You’re gonna make it.

He didn’t have the time to process what that meant until he had already stretched his arms and flung him to the elevator. He chipped the side of his mirror when he landed on the boxes of the elevator, but he was safe.

He was safe and Goob was not.

His head was still spinning as he heard cries, banging on the metal door and screaming. Screaming in general, at everything, at everyone, at him. Someone shaking his shoulders, saying “Why him?”, “Why him?”, “Why-

— -HIM? WHY HIM AND NOT YOU!?

. . .

Her left ear perked up when she heard one of the elevators back up again. Looey stumbled out, looking crazed and panicked. She closed her manicure set, pocketed it in her dress and got out of the bean bag. She stretched her tail and grabbed Looey, bringing herself to him. She looked at every detail of his expression before speaking up. — What happened?

— It’s Glisten! He didn’t make it to the elevator!

— Oh yeah? – She inspected her nails, searching for any imperfections. — And why do I care? Go get him back.

— He was being chased by him-

She immediately grabbed him by the collar of his sleeveless turtleneck and brought him to her eye level. He wasn’t being clear and she needed to assess the situation before taking action. Depending on the corrupted toon, it would be very easy or hard to get Glisten back. — By who? Who exactly?

— Goob! We found Goob, and . . . and he’s changed.

Her eyes softened and she let him go, eyes quickly glazing over with unshed tears. Her voice trembled. — . . . What?

Chapter Text

After the blinding pain, that had made him reminisce about the very last time he saw him, was coming down into a burning sensation and a sore and pulsating back, he realized it wasn’t the end for him yet. He supposed he was waiting to be shredded apart to a mangled, ichored body that forever roamed the floors before imparting the same fate on to one of his coworkers, but the final strike, the last bite, never came. Instead, he was immobilized into the classic bear-wrap-around-three-times hug that always comforted people, that would be very sweet if he hadn't indented his back with two claw marks going from his shoulders to his waist. He felt a warm liquid start running through his back, and couldn’t differentiate between his own ichor or Goob’s tears of relief.

— Sniff . . . Ghruugh- COUGH COUGH!

He felt his ichory cough fall on his shoulder, ending his attempt at talking- wait, talking? As they knew so far, the corrupted Toons, Twisteds as they called them now, weren’t conscious and only obeyed their deepest wishes or instincts, so it was a stretch to say that he was attempting to talk to him. No, he could think about this later, he needed to escape and then hide in that same floor until the others eventually came to rescue him. Yes, that was the plan, but how? The craft had an iron hold on him and he was hugging him tighter and tighter.

Trying to shimmy his way out of it proved to be counterproductive, moving his body down was making his claws bury deeper into him, making him whine in pain. Not a good idea. His breathing was getting quicker, and then it was progressively harder to breathe. He was desperately trying to find a way out, thrashing and making Goob hold on to him so hard he felt his ribs hurting. That strength was not natural. Running out of ideas and out of air, he reached out with one of his trapped hands the fur on Goob’s chest, pulling at it and pinching and tapping and doing anything to get his attention.

Finally, the craft looked at his face directly. The mirror looked miserable, silently crying and his face more purple by the second. Goob didn’t know what was wrong with a comforting hug that he believed the two of them needed. Not until Glisten spoke, weak and dazed.

— Goo- Goob . . . You’re hurting me, stop, please- please stop.

Was he hugging too tight? Alarmed, he unwrapped his arms from the Toon, standing up and taking a few steps back to give him space. Yeah, he needed space, silly him hugging him too much! But he really missed people, and he was so very grateful for a pretty angel like him to come by- Then he saw him. He was coughing up air in his lungs, and looking at him with terror and . . . something else that was indecipherable to the craft. Only when the mirror tried to stand, and when he couldn’t, crawl away from him, did he notice what was wrong. What he did. He couldn’t believe it at first, but looking at his claws covered in ichor, he felt horrified and disgusted with himself. How could he not notice? If they ripped bedding and scratched wood, of course he would hurt him. His gold skin looked strong, but it was just as fragile as his mirror, already chipped on one side. Did he do that too?

He had to fix this, fix him. Holding in his tears, he went to grab him and take him where he set up a couple of gym mattresses and blankets. He had found a first-aid medkit a while back and some dental floss –he remembered Glisten laughing with him about dental floss–. He stopped in his tracks. No, he couldn't pick him up with his claws. He couldn’t even touch him. It was- he was too dangerous. Putting a paw to his chin, looking at how the mirror breathed more and more rapidly, he was trying to think on how to transport him when he glanced at a white cover draped on a cluster of chairs. Yes!

— Hiihghhh- COUGH COUGH COUGH! – Speaking has been hard for a couple of days, now. He just wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay. And he will be fine. He must be. He laid out the cover on the floor and checked if Glisten was conscious, poking his cheek with a crayon nearby. He barely opened his eyes at the motion and closed them again. Maybe he was losing too much ichor. He needed to put him in the cover, face down so he couldn’t lose more of it. He pushed Glisten, while sitting on the floor next to him, with his back, towards the cover. And it worked! With no time to waste, he grabbed the ends of the cover and ran, dragging him along.

He was going to be fine. He must be. Or else he wouldn’t know how to go on.

. . .

— Come on, people, time is limited here! – Scraps hurried to the elevator, pulling a red wagon filled with food, water, candies for Yatta to keep her hyper-energetic, a medkit with two bandages and –her little brother carried those– a packet of dental floss. Connie was the first to arrive, instantly haunting the wagon and making it go in circles.

— You sure we only need like, 4 people?

— Yeah I'm sure, Connie. The less people there are, the less we’re gonna attract the Twisteds. – She started pacing the elevator, briefly looking at herself in the metal walls from how shiny it was. Must’ve been Tisha, she cleans to let off steam sometimes. The reflection was muted, but she could see her crayon eyeliner, too thick and messy and smudged. Goob always helped her with it, he had a better pulse than her.

— Okay, makes sense, but did you HAVE to pick the two loudest clowns of the batch?

She rolled her eyes at her before thinking about it for a moment. Yeah, the two were erratic and sometimes didn’t take things seriously, but they weren’t tactless, or idiots, even though they appeared to be. — I know they can be a bit . . . too much. But they know what they’re doing and have a good group dynamic. – Her tail swished, impatient, before laying her back against one of the walls. — Not like other people.

Connie looked hurt by that before she got out of the wagon and sat on one of the corners. Scraps didn’t know why she said that, she was just too on edge. — Yeesh, forgive me for trying to have an opinion. – Connie began to absentmindedly make a yellow candy float in the air, spinning it around and looking at the fluorescent lights.

Scraps reached out, but quickly withdrew her paw. She could chat and apologize with her later. Pupils constricting, she looked out of the elevator while chewing on one of her claws. — Where are they? I swear, if they make me look for them-

— We’re here! Sorry for being late. – Looey was running towards them with Yatta in hand. Literally in hand. Looey was holding her hand. Scraps didn’t know why that made her more angry than she already was. Rolling her eyes and pressing the button to the first floor, she gave a sharp look to Yatta. — What even took you guys so long?

— Oh! Well- we had . . . – He looked to the side briefly before answering, Yatta nervous by his side and avoiding her gaze. — We- Oh yeah! A button on my cross-body popped off and Yatta helped me sew it back on.

Connie looked interested now, floating in the air and resting her chin on her hands while looking mischievous. — Oh really? Didn't know that you sewed, when did you learn?

— OH, I asked uhmmm . . . TEAGAN! I asked HER to teach me! She is SOOO GOOD at teaching! HAHAHA!! – She was biting her lip a bit, swaying on her feet back and forth.

— Mhm. Yeahhh, I thought so. – She didn’t believe it one bit.

And neither did Scraps, but she could only swish her tail and readjust her yarn tote bag to her shoulder, rolling her neck and huff as the elevator’s doors opened roughly. — Okay everyone, focus. Connie, you scout the place for any Twisteds and report back here to inform us. If there aren’t any, we all extract and you take the closest one to ele, but if there are . . . – She looked to Looey and Yatta for a second. — You, Looey, you’ll distract them. If you run into trouble, switch with Yatta.

They looked at each other, Yatta unusually uneasy at the idea and Looey just smiling softly at her. The clown started warming up his non-existent joints humorously while stepping out of the elevator. — Nothing to worry about, kitty-kat! I won’t be popped that easily.

Scraps’ ears piped up at the nickname, but shook her head rapidly and made them relax again. — Looey, you made that same wordplay seconds ago. Running out of material? – She smiled smugly and walked past him, brushing her tail against his arm while he was looking deflated. Then she promptly hit the top of his head with her cup softly. — And don’t call me kitty-kat.

Downright humiliated, Looey rubbed the top of his head while muttering an “ow” to himself, but nonetheless grinning.

As she walked forward, she could spot a machine next to an erratic Boxten, ichor coming out of his mouth and making a puddle on the floor, smiling at nothing and staying static. She looked over to Looey, nodding toward him, and he nodded back. With Looey running towards the Twisted while flailing his limbs, Scraps stretched her tail towards a machine, pulling out a magnifying glass out of her tote bag.

— Don't worry ‘bout a thing, baby bro. I’ll find you whatever it takes.

. . .

Opening his eyes was still too much of a hassle, synthetic glow blinding him. Only trying to put up his arm to block the light did he feel a sharp pain near his shoulder blades and at the front of his torso, in his ribs. Hissing, he sat up quickly and tried touching where the pain came from, but only moving his arms was painful. While feeling dizzy and like he was falling, he thought he got up too quickly, before feeling a pair of fuzzy palms stabilize him. When he felt okay-ish enough to open his eyes, memories from before his vision went black flooded his mind, looking at sweet, reddened eyes.

Chapter Text

— GAAAH! GET AWAY FROM ME!

He grabbed the closest thing to him, a heavy binder on a shelf, to hit Goob in the face before standing up and taking off; it wasn’t time to linger on if he still had feelings or reasoning, he told himself as he heard a pained growl. He was not staying there to find out. The thing is, he was not planning to, but the initial speed he aquired in his panicked state was quickly wearing off. Huffing and tired, feeling the pulsating pain on his back, he hid in a corner, behind a bookshelf. He could not rest against the wall or curve his back, he just had to stay still and hopefully stop hearing whines and coughs. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to steady his breathing and rested for a while. The sounds stopped, but not for the reason he hoped it was.

Opening his eyes again, his heart skipped a beat and accelerated seeing the craft crouched in front of him, looking at him attentively, but not moving a muscle. Glisten didn’t either. Maybe if he stood still, he would leave him alone. He knew it wasn’t true, and he tried so hard not to cry but the tears started flowing and he was so scared. Ridiculous. He needed to be cool headed and think of a way to escape, but he was cornered and Goob could finish him off right at this instant and he didn’t know what to do.

Goob got closer and closer and reached out to him, but withdrew his paw after a moment. Trembling, wiping off his eyes, the mirror watched him get up and run away. He didn’t know what was that, or why, but he needed to take this chance. Just as he was standing up and hissing through the oppressive pain in his ribs, Goob almost made him fall to the floor when he appeared right at his side. He backed up as close to the wall behind him as he could, breathing heavily.

— Hhhh . . . Hh- eat.

He visibly looked pained when he said it, coughing while pulling out a single protein bar out of a black backpack, stretching his arm toward him, not to hurt, but to leave it near him, on a crate. He waited until Glisten took it, cautious and always looking directly at his eyes, for any sign of aggression, before opening it and chowing it down. He had no idea he was that hungry, getting embarrassed by his lack of grace and dabbing his mouth with his fingers to wipe the crumbs off.

— You . . . Talk. And reason. – Goob nodded, slowly, hiding his arms behind his back. Glisten put his hands against the wall and carefully slid to the floor, sighing and fidgeting with the neck of his turtleneck bodysuit stained with ichor. — And . . . You were the one that took care of my back? — He nodded again, now looking at one of his paws, looking upset. That wasn’t natural in Goob, he was always aloof and happy.

— Figured, you are the only one here. Who would have thought you could give first aid? Maybe there isn’t only fluff up there, afterall. – His humor thankfully helped bring a timid and kind of clueless smile back to his face. Sitting up after finishing his protein bar, he scanned the place. Walking was still a bit hard, so he went back to where he was resting, helping himself by grabbing walls, furniture and rails. Goob had made a comfy place to rest made out of a cover, gym mattresses and a couple of blankets, beside it a bottle of water and a half used medkit, along with his vanity purse.

The craft caught up to him and motioned for him to sit down, tapping the resting place. Glisten reluctantly obeyed, making himself comfortable. Then, Goob started making circles in the air with one of his hands.

— What? I can’t- I can’t understand what you’re trying to say. – When he tried to speak, he coughed up a bit of ichor. — No! Don’t try to talk, you’re gonna hurt yourself. Just . . .

Looking around the room, he spotted an Arts & Crafts box and pointed at it. — There, you can use that. – Goob looked at it for a second, then down, then up, until he remembered there was a lot of crayons by that side. Sprinting animatedly to it, he knocked the box to its side and rummaged until he found a blue, kind-of-beat-up crayon. “tURn AROUND” he wrote on the wall next to Glisten, with difficulties gripping it.

— Oh! You want to check . . . that. Right? – Goob nodded. He did as he was told, nervous to have him touch his back with his . . . claws. When a claw started ripping out a piece of medical tape he wanted to run away, but he stayed put, if only trembling a little. Finally, Goob could take out the cotton gauze overfilled with ichor and held up by tape out of his back. It had scabbed over, but it was inflamed, and his body suit was sticky with ichor and prevented some parts from closing. He either had to take it off until the wound closed or cut the back out, leaving him with nothing to cover himself up, well . . .

Goob shook his head and blush out of his face before walking to the closest wall he had and writing. He even managed to make it simple.

“TAKE BACK OFF”

— WHAT!?

While Glisten was looking at him like he was about to put him in a vat of acid, he wondered why he had that reaction. When it clicked, Goob tried to deny it, but his gestures weren’t enough. Finally, he wrote “BODYSUIT!!” beside. Glisten read it, and let out a sigh. — Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack! I thought it was infected or something. – Goob wrote a tiny “sorry” next and Glisten stopped frowning.

— Anyways- uhm. – Remembering what he had to do next, his face got hot. — Whyy do I have to take it off? – Goob turned to write on the wall again, now taking a moment to think about how to say things.

“CLOTHES STUCK TO WOUND. NOT GOOD”

— Oh, yeah, of course. – He couldn’t exactly look at himself, so he could only trust him. It wasn't surprisingly easy to do so, though. When he tried to reach the dress hook on the back of his neck, his wound throbbed and he put his arms back down again, wincing. Goob got closer to him, not knowing what happened and with worried eyes. — It just- it hurts when I try to raise my arms.

Glisten hugged his knees and looked to the side, not wanting to see the craft’s pity for him. He didn’t exactly like when people pitied him or saw him like that, even in a situation like this. After a while, something tapped his shoulder. When he turned around, it was Goob on his knees with the crayon in paw, new writings on the wall.

“I’M SORRY. DIDN’T WANNA HURT YOU.”

He looked absolutely miserable, ichor tears on his eyes that refused to come out, looking down, hugging himself a little too hard and making tiny punctures on his arms with his claws and not noticing, yet still trying to put on a brave face. God, he couldn’t bear to see him like that. He crawled to him, sitting cross-legged beside him, touching his knee with his. — You . . . You didn't mean to, right? Otherwise I wouldn't be here right now. – Goob shook his head, looking at him sideways. — And you’re trying to heal me. – He put his back to Goob, upright, trying to get some of his graceful look back. — So stop moping around and help me get this thing off . . . Please.

Between them, ironically he really wasn’t good with words, but they were good enough for Goob, who wiped his tears and approached carefully, trembling a bit, afraid of hurting him again. Glisten felt more or less the same way, posture relaxed but the first on his thighs tightly shut, closing his eyes and awaiting another scratch on his back. There was none: with the tip of one of his claws, he managed to unhook the body suit. — Okay, now only the zipper is left. – With a bit more patience, after about 20 seconds he could pull the zipper down.

Once that was done, Glisten pulled the bodysuit, pinching from the sides, down. But it was too stock, lifting up some of the scabbed wounds with it. He stopped, frustrated, the bits that were opened again oozing ichor and burning. Assessing the situation, Goob ran downstairs, taking off the cover from a sofa cushion and going to the other side of the floor, where a water dispenser was at its last drops. After wetting the cover with water, he came back, also dabbing it with soap he took from the bathrooms there before pressing the towel softly to his back, loosening up little by little the ichor and softening the scabs and finally getting the bodysuit down to his waist.

— Wow . . . you are resourceful. – Goob grunted and moved his shoulders upwards before cleaning the wound, getting most of the dried up ichor out of his skin. He grabbed a piece of cotton from the medkit and drenched it in iodine, then pressed into the bleeding bits, Glisten instinctively pulling his back away from the coolness of it. — Sorry. – He straightened up again, and the craft put a thin layer of antibiotic cream with a Q-Tip before grabbing a piece of gauze, putting it over the wounds and holding it up with medical tape.

Goob looked at the medkit and frowned. They had only one more gauze change before they ran out of gauze, ointment and cotton. He walked to the front of Glisten and started writing, before hearing Glisten clean his throat. Turning around, he could see the problem. Glisten was still without the upper part of his body suit, covering his chest with one of the blankets. — I wouldn’t normally mind, but it’s a bit chilly and I don't have fur to warm me, unlike others. – He also was the tiniest bit embarrassed by being exposed like that in front of him, but Goob didn’t need to know that. Goob, of course, averted his gaze, going behind him quickly to hide the blush that was peeking out behind his fur. Why did he have to be so pretty?

He put the fabric over the gauze and helped Glisten with the armholes before zipping the bodysuit back up and clasping it at the neck. — Is it salvageable or is it completely ruined? – Going back to the front, Goob moved his wrist side to side, in the ‘eh’ kind of way. — Well, I don't mind that much. I specifically asked the costuming staff that it matched my gold tone but it ended up being WAAY too light. I mean, how hard is it to do that? — When he finished talking, he looked up at Goob, who was oh so very patiently waiting for him to finish talking, but struggling to continue to do so. — I’m sorry, I’m a chatterbox today. What were you trying to say?

“LOW ON WATER & MED. GO DOWN”

— Go down? Are you insane!? – He got up and started pacing, to the dismay of Goob, that tried to keep him resting. — I mean, look at me. I’m in a deplorable state; I can’t even raise my arms without feeling like crying. How am I supposed to extract? – He put his hands on his hips, tapping his foot on the ground, waiting for a sound answer.

Goob sighed heavily and walked away, leaving Glisten flabbergasted that he would just do that. — Hey! Don’t ignore me. And- And don’t leave me here talking all alone either! – The mirror ran behind him, slower than usual given his state. When he managed to catch up though, he knew where they were both headed. — Uhm, Goob? You know they blew the entrance to the emergency stairs after the second incident, right? – The aforementioned looked confused at his comment before pushing a heavy bookshelf to the right and moving an unhinged and beat down door from the frame. Entering, instead of a pile of rubble, both found a dusty, worn down but functional stairway going down into the darkness, a single cool-light lightbulb illuminating the first steps.

— What? But- I thought . . . – He looked over to Goob, who smiled at him with sharp teeth and all before writing on a peeling wall.

“TRUST ME?”

Chapter Text

The words on the wall were stuck to his mind as he retrieved his vanity bag, put a wrench he brought under where the bow was tied to his waist and tried to make his flashlight work, hitting it multiple times. It had worked before, but it was on his last flickers of light before the lightbulb burned out. Glisten, surprised, opened up the back of it and pulled the batteries out, tucking them in his bag. — Oh my god, it wasn’t the batteries, so dumb.

Goob frowned at that and quickly wrote on the wall in front of them both.

“NOT DUMB”

— Oh no, it wasn’t like that. I know I'm not dumb, I'm just . . . Frustrated. This stupid thing burns out when I most need it and- and I noticed it before but didn’t bring any spare and now I feel dumb. You get me? – He continued to unscrew the reflector, hoping that he would drop it, but Goob shook his head and wrote above that.

“BUT YOU’RE

NOT DUMB”

Glisten sighed at that and put the reflector on a metal shelf, looking at Goob’s eyes directly. — Thanks, Goob. I appreciate it. – He gave an almost earnest smile, but neither of them believed it was. The craft didn’t want to leave it at that, but they were both in a hurry and he couldn’t exactly write all that he wanted to say on the wall, it would take ages. He instead went to the other side of the floor and searched the desks. He knew he saw something in there that could be useful, although every time he tried to remember his head hurt. Finally, after rummaging through half of the drawers he found a bundle of keys with a flashlight keychain, and along the way a couple of candies and two granola bars.

When he came back, Glisten was nowhere to be found. He panicked and ran around the place until he heard flowing water near the bathrooms. Entering one of them, Glisten was looking at himself in the mirror. Sure, he could see himself in the mirror he brought, but it was different seeing all of himself at once. He was a mess. His bow was completely torn on the back as well as his bodysuit, he always took care of his clothes, only for them to end up dirty all over with ichor, his and Goob’s. But it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for his face: his makeup was smudged around the eyes and cheeks, following dried up tear tracks and making his eyebags more noticeable now. And it was so hard covering those up, too. He touched the cracked side of his mirror lightly, wincing when a tiny piece fell off to the sink. He knew he looked horrible, and decided that no make up was better than messy makeup.

When he finished washing his face and checking he didn’t leave any behind, he saw a flash of red in his periphery and turned around, wielding a bar of soap. He then saw poor Goob with his hands up, covering his face. Relaxing, he snickered a bit.

— Sorry, Goob, I’m still not used to . . . Well, you. – He put a piece of tape over the broken part of his face before noticing he was still staring at his face. It was the first time he got uncomfortable when someone was staring at him and he got defensive quick, turning around with an unintentional frown. — Well I’m sorry you have to see me like this, but-

“YOU LOOK GOOD”

Glisten paused for a bit, reading, reading that again and re-reading it, remembering the many times he said that before. Goob only gave him a meek, but sincere smile. Glisten looked at his reflection in the mirror again, only to confirm that he didn’t. — Oh, you’re too sweet. – Goob lit up with a now plentiful and silly smile. He missed that smile. — Of course I look good, I always do. I just look less perfect now, but if only I had brought some powder or something I would be the prettiest mirror in here. – Goob pouted at that. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly remembered his sore and raw throat. Balling up his fists, he calmed himself down and sprinted at him, stopping just shy of two feet of him. When Glisten finished packing up, Goob grabbed his attention to the keychain flashlight still attached to 4 keys that he left on the sink.

— Oh my god, where did you find it? – He took the flashlight in his hands, it was shaped like a pink, chubby piglet, with it’s snout being where the light shined through. — Aww, it’s kind of small but so, so cute! – After inspecting it, he lifted up by the curly pig tail the hatch of the flashlight and turned it on, flashing it to a door stall. — Thank you so much, Goob. – The mirror blushed slightly before putting it back together and looping the cord around his wrist.

Goob opened the door for him, happy to help, and followed Glisten to the entrance of the stairs. Glisten stopped there, his breath hitching. Goob took a few steps down in front of him and he saw him barely holding it together. Goob stretched one arm to the wall and tapped with a claw what he wrote.

“TRUST ME?”

Glisten gulped air and felt Goob brushing the back of his hand with a knuckle, very light, all while looking at him. Why did he have to look at him that way? It felt scary and made his chest heavy. And it’s crazy to trust a Twisted, but . . . it didn’t seem like he would hurt him, not anymore.

— Yeah. Let’s go.

. . .

The floor was completely in the dark. Usually, when an elevator came down to a floor, it would turn all of its lights off until it left. Of course, you could turn them on with the control room on the top floor, but they had no way of communicating to the rest of Gardenview.

— Ugh, I can’t see anything. – He had to squint just to see 6 feet in front of him, often with one hand out to not bump into any walls or furniture. Goob, who was sprinting ahead, tilted his head to one side, confused. — What, now you’re gonna tell me you can clearly see in a windowless, hundred feet below ground level concrete box? – Goob scratched his head and could only muster an awkward smile and an apologetic grunt. Glisten rolled his eyes and started rummaging through a box in a storage shelf, muttering to himself. — Some people are just so lucky.

Goob looked at himself to check he was still “weird” after that and looked at Glisten with annoyance, puffing up his cheeks and stomping to the other side of the room. It wasn’t his fault he had way better vision when he didn’t have overhead lights blasting him! Now his eyes were less sore and tired, and he could even see a bit on the periphery. He started whistling as he dumped a box on the shelf and inspected its contents before moving on to another one, arranging the useful stuff on a pile to put in his backpack later. Also making a ton of noise.

— Goob, my sweet, fluffy friend. Can you be quiet? – Glisten turned around and slammed a can of whole tomatoes on the shelf, doing far more noise than him. Goob looked at him incredulous, moving his hands wildly. — Don’t look at me like that, there could be Twisteds here!

— Dh- Duh. – Goob gestured at himself, looking even more offended. He then gestured to the surrounding area and held his paw up to a non-existent ear, sarcastically trying to hear something, but of course there was only ambient noise.

Glisten huffed, turning around and crossing his arms. — Okay, okay, you’re right. You don’t have to be mean about it though. – He fiddled with a teared end of his bow, looking back at how Goob was putting items on his backpack a little too harshly. — I’m . . . On edge. But I shouldn't take it out on you, me of all people should have more emotional intelligence than this, so . . . I’m sorry. – As he turned around to look through a wooden crate, Goob was the one who saw him intently this time. Putting his backpack on, he walked over to Glisten and stretched his arms upwards, grabbing a heavy cardboard box off the top and bringing it to the floor.

The mirror’s heart broke a little when he looked at Goob sitting on the ground next to the box, about to reach out to him for a hug, but withdrawing from doing so. Glisten left the flashlight on the shelf and sat down with him, hesitantly reaching for him. When the craft noticed, he almost backed away, afraid for him, but Glisten refused to take the sign and hugged him anyway. It was a light hug, Glisten resting his hands on the back of his shoulders and breathing through his mouth and even so wanting to hug a little stronger, sink in his warm fur, even if it was matted and sticky with ichor. — Don’t hug me. I’m- I’m scared. I know it won’t happen again, but, please.

The craft nodded, slowly, letting his tears flow and himself sob, his arms tense but limp at his sides. As much as he would have liked to lean into the hug, he knew it was dangerous and he would stain Glisten’s clothes further- or even nick his neck with his teeth. He didn’t want to hurt him but it has been so long since someone hugged him. Glisten caressed his back up and down and never let go before Goob did. His eyelids were all puffy from crying and he was sniffing snot mixed with ichor back up his nose.

— Poor you, it’s okay. Let me see . . . – He opened his vanity box and pulled out a dainty handkerchief, embroidered with hearts and stars on a corner. — Here, let me look at your face. – He grabbed the side of Goob’s jaw and dried up his tears, being careful to not press on his eyes, now that he figured they were sensible. He then held it up to his nose. — Blow. – Goob shook his head, not wanting to ruin another thing of his. — Come on, blow, we gotta get out of here someday. — Goob looked at Glisten and waited for him to relent, but he wasn’t going to. He blew his nose, filling the handkerchief and a bit of the tips of Glisten’s fingers with snot. Glisten truly looked disgusted, but he wasn’t going to say anything. He would later go and sneak to the bathroom to wash his hands, though.

He wiped his nose one last time and threw the fabric in his bag. — I’m gonna have to wash all of this by hand, anyways- oh. – He realized how Goob looked in front of him, blushed and pursed lips in a straight line, oscillating between Glisten’s face and Glisten’s hand on his paw. Glisten, just as surprised, looked away and slowly withdrew his hand, holding it to his own chest before scooting the box closer over to them. — Haha, anyways! Did you find something yet? – He distracted himself by looking through the box.

There was a disassembled vacuum, two packets of size A4 paper, a couple of sketch pads and-

— Oh my god, Goob! Look! – He held up excitedly an intact magna doodle to him, still on the box. Goob gasped and smiled wide, looking to Glisten for approval before taking it and literally tearing it out of the box with his claws. He flipped it over, took the attached magnetic pen and wrote on the screen before showing it to him, eyes practically shining.

“this is so cool!! 🙂”

Glisten pointed his flashlight to it and squinted to read, but instantly replied. — Yeah it is! But maybe not for dark places or with this tiny thing, it’s hard to read. – While talking, he accidentally pointed his flashlight elsewhere and saw a water dispenser. — Look, water. Can you fill these bottles? I’ll go search in the storage room for med supplies.

“okay 😉”

He gave Goob his own water bottle before heading out to the other side of the floor. It took a while and a skillful maneuvering of foldable stairs, but he managed to reach a box with not one, but TWO medkits, a cotton pack, pads and a bottle of iodine. Well, the pads must be useful for something. Just as he was heading out with the entire box–

A red hue was approaching.

Chapter Text

It was so faint he wouldn’t have noticed if the light hadn't bounced off of his golden skin, appearing vermillion. Not willing to believe it was true, he grabbed his vanity mirror and hid in a corner, sticking it out slightly to see at the end of the hallway. With some difficulty, he managed to see how Brightney contorted herself out of a vent, falling to the floor with a loud thud. Slowly, she rose to a hunched position due to her ichored feet, still in her signature kitten heels, chafed and bruised like the rest of her body. Turning her head to an out of place, broken forearm, she put it back in place with a sickening crunch, only to look directly at the mirror peeking out with her only intact eye, changing her sad frown into an unnerving smile. How she could still move her face despite her lampshade being torn, wrinkled and caved in all over was beyond him. Her broken light flickering, she got upright and poised like her normal self, almost as if she was parodying her past self. Walking as jolly as she could in Glisten’s direction, she emitted a raspy, low hum to the melody of Waltz No. 2, from Dmitri Shostakovich.

Did she see him from there? No, stop thinking about that. Or her, in that state. Crouching down, trying to cover himself with furniture, he went where the water dispenser was as silently as possible, taking a singular medkit and stuffing his bag to the brim with iodine and 5 pads. He was slow, slower than usual with not only the added weight, but the weakness from his wound too. She would catch up. She was already entering the room. He had to run. NOW.

Taking off, hopeful to find Goob, he heard full on singing, gurgly and slow while the light came ever closer, her heels clicking against the wooden floor rapidly. She would get to him, no doubt. He had no choice. As soon as he saw a glimpse of Goob in the dark, he summoned his portal and went through it, narrowly escaping Brightney’s grasp and falling onto him with the left side of his body. Goob was looking for him since he heard the singing, but was far slower now. He quickly grabbed a limp Glisten, heaving to the floor from the nausea with nothing coming out. Putting one of his arms underneath his armpits and wrapping around him, he helped him walk upright to the emergency stairs door.

When they arrived at the door, Brightney was at their heels. He wouldn’t have time to open it. Sitting Glisten on the floor, next to the door, he turned around to confront Brightney. He couldn’t distract, he was too slow and there was no guarantee Glisten could recover quickly. Rushing through ideas, she was getting ever closer, extending her good arm towards . . . not him. Towards Glisten, even though he was standing right in front of her.

Oh. That won’t do.

Adrenaline pumping in his veins, he slammed into her head first, pushing her to the wall behind her and making her back contact it, leaving it indented and leaving her stunned. This was still not enough. Getting back up, she maintained her distance behind some crates, not wanting to get close to Goob. He wasn’t the one to play complex strategy games, though. Slamming into the metal shelves, he toppled the structure over Brightney, hearing a screech as everything fell on top of her, trapping her there.

He painfully ignored her wails as she tried to get out of there, going over to Glisten who, even though nauseous, saw everything. Pink piggy flashlight still pointing at Brightney, shocked and alternating his gaze between Goob and the lamp. Opening the door with one paw, he offered his opposite arm to Glisten, who held on to it carefully, as if he was suddenly dangerous again. That saddened the craft. Shutting the door behind them, the both stared into nothingness, Glisten breathing heavily and recovering energies to go up the stairs.

He was suddenly very much aware of Goob’s size now. He was a little bit taller than him before but it was never noticeable, given that he always liked wearing shoes with platforms. But now? Even with his boots Goob was towering half a head above him. He was slower while walking, and broader on his shoulders.

— That was a little scary, even for me. – Glisten sighed, leaning on the wall to his right. He looked at the craft fidgeting with his backpack straps, careful to not cut them. — But are you okay? She didn’t hurt you or anything, right? — Goob checked his limbs, just now finding a gash on his left arm with ichor dripping from it. He didn’t even feel it. He showed Glisten, looking apologetic.

— Oh my god! How could you not notice that!? – Glisten grabbed his arm, inspecting the wound further. He found a fragment of a corroded piece of metal there. He winced and clicked his mouth, worry filling his eyes. — This looks bad, you’re gonna need a tetanus shot when we’re on the top again. – He motioned Goob to sit at the stairs, opening the medkit and pulling out the surgical-grade thread and needle. The other took his backpack off and unzipped it, pulling out his brand new magna doodle, doubting before writing.

“what’s on the top?”

He obviously knew there had to be a top floor, but he had never seen it or heard about it before. Glisten read it absentmindedly while taking off the metal with some tiny scissors. And then he realized what he just read. After leaving the metal piece on a newspaper page he found on the floor, he searched for any sign of humor on Goob’s face. He didn’t find any.

— Goob. The top floor of Gardenview. – Goob was intensively racking up his brain for answers, but he only could grunt as a headache came on. He tapped the screen again.

— Gardenview! The others, where- where we all live, the children came here before the incidents to see us- and there is Teagan, RnD, Scraps, Goob! – He was desperate to find a glimmer of recognition for any of those names. The other remembered a feminine voice, but not much else. Glisten became increasingly agitated. — Dang it, your sister!!

Goob’s eyes lit up and he erased the previous message, writing again. Glisten smiled, relieved he at least remembered her-

“i have a sister?? what's she like?”

He stopped breathing. He opened his mouth to talk, but he didn’t even know what to say. He made a decision.

— She’s- She’s your big sister. She is brave and determined, sometimes a bit forgetful, kind of like you were. She kinda looks like a cat, and- and you two were inseparable, until . . . — He was about to cry. None of this would’ve happened if he had pushed himself a little bit further, thought more, was more capable and didn’t get Goob turned into that. It really was all of this his fault. — And she has been worried sick for you, Goob. She has been looking for you all of this time even though everyone, including- including ME, gave up. – He stood up, grabbing his face and pacing the landing. — And you don’t even remember her!

When he turned around, Goob was looking at him, shock on his face. He grimaced and held a paw to his pulsating forehead before sliding the eraser back.

“i’m sorry”

Both of them stayed quiet for a few minutes. Goob spent his time wondering what his sister looked like, drawing her with a square head, erasing. Was she short? Tall? Nice? Well, she must be nice, she’s family after all. He only had her voice to go by. Erasing. Erasing. Erasing three times before resting his head against the raw concrete walls. All while Glisten watched him struggle, guilty. He could have told him nothing, just let it be for a little bit longer until the others found them. If they found them.

— It’s . . . not your fault.

“i know”

“i just wish i’d remember”

Goob’s stomach grumbled. He looked down and then at Glisten. Then hid his face away as he erased and wrote rapidly.

“wanna go?”

— Yes, we both need rest.

Unusually, Goob went in front of him, barely looking back but stopping when he heard Glisten’s breathing grow tired, resuming their climb to the floor above. When Goob took the door and moved the bookshelf out of the way, he hid himself from Glisten with the door until he entered, only then putting the furniture back into their place. The mirror tried to look at him, but the other avoided his gaze, going to the broken elevator instead. Maybe he was still a little . . . something.

Glisten went to his designated space, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly lonely, hugging himself with the white cover over his shoulders, curling up in the gym mattresses. He rested his head against a makeshift pillow made out of a dusty kid-sized coat. He turned to one side. He turned to the other. He got up and huffed. Wasn’t there anything to do around here? And where was Goob to sleep? He scanned the room and paid attention, really paid attention. He saw that some boxes were scratched, claw marks mirroring the ones on his back. The mattresses had similarly the foam inside them exposed and there was a hidden spot, behind some crates, where dried out ichor sat on the floor and tufts of fur stuck to the walls. He really slept there? And . . . why was there so much ichor?

He clutched the fabric above his heart. This won’t do.

He went downstairs and pulled the seat cushions and back pillows off the loveseats, dragging instead of carrying them to not hurt his back. He collected them and arranged them in a pile near his bed, also finding 3 pennies, a 10 dollar bill and a couple of candies . . . yeah, those were definitely for emergencies. He disgusted himself thinking about expired couch candy. He carefully moved his bed to one corner and Goob’s to the other, blocking a staffroom door with a couple of stacked empty crates, so they could feel less exposed. He gave Goob the white cover, choosing to use the childrens coat and replace it with a throw pillow. Exchanging those smelly gym mattresses for cushions and instead putting them on the floor next to each bed, he overlooked the cozy sleeping place he’d made.

— Hmph, nothing short of impressive!

He was already a little groggy, having the urge to take off his boots and rest in his now comfy bed. But . . . Goob hasn’t come back yet. And he was worried. And he didn’t want to sleep alone. Weird, he always valued having his own room in the Toon Rooms. He walked slowly, the balls of his feet sore from running around all day, looking for Goob. He went to the broken elevator, but found him nowhere. Snooping around, he saw a box on the top of a metal shelf, with a half-full capsule sticking out. Just as the idea of retrieving a ladder he saw somewhere on the floor to check it out, Goob knocked on the wood entry of the room, now having stitches on his arms and a rejuvenated expression.

— I’ve been looking for you! – He inspected the state of his arms, noticing that it was a little messy. — You should have let me do it, I would have done it much better. — Goob looked down, fidgeting with a forgotten crayon on a table. — Uhm . . . I mean- even though it’s gonna leave more of a scar, the fact that you could do it with those claws is a miracle, and I'm sure you did a great job with my back, so . . . You did great.

He looked insecure as he tried to reassure him, but it seemed it worked. Goob smiled shily, scratching his neck fur, now cheered up. Glisten walked past him, having the urge to grab his hand and guide him, but crossing them instead. — Okay, come with me, I got to show you something!

When they entered the room, Goob lit up and checked out his bed, pressing the cushions carefully so as to not get his claws caught. — Tada~ Looks good, right? – Goob couldn’t resist and flopped directly onto his bed, breathy and scratchy giggles leaving his throat, nodding enthusiastically. He stretched his arm to a bookshelf and grabbed a red crayon. This time Glisten didn’t flinch.

“YOU’RE THE BEST. THANKS”

It was the first time Glisten wanted to hide from praise, but played it cool anyways. Shrugging, he walked to his bed and took off his boots with a sigh, sitting on his bed and covering his legs with the coat. — Of course I am, and you’re welcome, my fluffy friend.

As he turned to the wall, Goob smiled wide at “friend”, sharp teeth even more capable of tearing off flesh than before, but still managing to look goofy. Goob tapped the wall to bring Glisten’s attention to him. When he turned his head around, he blushed and closed his eyes.

“GOODNIGHT GLISTIE”

— Thank you, Goob. Goodnight to you too.

Now that the both of them were comfortable, they dozed off easily.

. . .

The elevator finally closed, but he was still not safe.

https://i.postimg.cc/pLsrV9z4/Glisten-Fanart-Second-Chance-Ichor-Heart.jpg

Chapter Text

He was so relieved when Glisten fell inside the elevator, he forgot his current situation. He did remember when he narrowly escaped an ichor claw to his face, stumbling to the floor. They were at a standoff, with Goob breathing quickly and glancing rapidly at his sides, searching for an escape route. Gigi was looking at him and only him. Inflamed, dried out eyes, so hungry but nonetheless lifeless, if the wound on her head and the ichor constantly dripping from it indicated otherwise. They spent a couple of seconds like that, both waiting for the other to move. The gachapon caved in first, crawling and opening her mouth wide, ready to strike with her pointy teeth.

But Goob knew his teeth were sharper.

They had been too much trouble for him for as long as he remembered. Sometimes he’d nick the insides of his cheeks and often bit on his own tongue when he ate too quickly. Now, that was his blessing. Rolling to one side to avoid her attack, he got behind her and wrestled her to the ground. When she slammed his back on the floor and made him scream in pain, he wrapped one of his arms on her neck, blocking her airways. And when she tried to tear his face open with her ichor arm, he panicked and bit down on it. Hard.

It broke his heart to hear her sharp cries of pain and feel her decreased thrashing. Realizing what he’d done, he unwrapped his arm from her neck and bolted, only looking back to see if she was following him. Left behind, she coughed ichor on the floor and groaned, trying to crawl after him, but she was struggling to breathe. She held the arm coming out of her head and screamed at him, angry and with newfound energy.

He was still tired. Too tired to run and hide somewhere safe . . . but where exactly was safe? Climbing a bookshelf and escaping a furious Gigi. She started to try and topple it down, slamming her body against it. Goob could barely keep steady as books fell to the floor. It wouldn’t be long until he was down there too. Hiding at this point would be useless, he had to get out of that place, off of that floor.

On the other side of the room was a vent, and he recalled the times when he and Yatta hid in there, ate chocolates until they were sick and ambushed unsuspecting kids with hugs and candy. It was going to be a bit of a stretch getting to the vent with his hurt side, but it needed to work. As the bookshelf fell backwards, he took advantage of the motion and jumped, using his arm to grab the vent. He pulled himself to it, slamming his torso hard on the wall and hearing a crunch on his left cheekbone. He was still hanging from his hold, his shoulder and back throbbed and he was pretty sure he broke or fissured various somethings. But Gigi was down there, scratching the walls and screaming at him, spitting ichor on the walls and floor. And he was already unscrewing the vent with one of his claws, crawling inside and jamming it closed again.

He went limp against one side, trying to slow down his breathing and trembling from the adrenaline. After a while, he started to really feel the extent of his injuries. He knew he had to heal them somehow. He straightened up his back, feeling the now silky ichor from his wounds trying to stick him to the metal. He didn’t bring anything to collect items, and checking his pockets he found only . . . Dental floss. He had to go to another floor, look something that he could use to sew-

. . .

He entered a bathroom with a flickering light, hurting his eyes a bit. He got everything out of his pockets: a paperclip, sharpened and shaped with a loop on one end and the dental floss. He also put on the stone counter a bottle of pure vodka. It was hidden underneath an animator’s desk. He really couldn’t blame him. Uncapping it, the smell hit him, making him scrunch his nose, it had to be at least 70% ABV. He poured it over the paperclip and then threaded the floss through it, tying it at the end. Looking at his shoulder he held the bottle near the wound, took a deep breath, and as soon as he poured it-

. . .

He was still crying from the burn and pain, his claws and paperclip covered with ichor. He was breathing shallowly, trying to stop crying and do his back too. He was scared, if only the shoulder hurt that much . . .

He got off the floor, splashing water on his face. He disinfected the needle again and threaded it, now with a longer thread to cover the larger, deeper injuries spanning from his shoulder blade to his middle back. He took off his blue shirt and suspenders to look at his exposed back on the mirror, wincing as he became aware of the kind of pain he should be feeling and the kind of pain that he will feel as soon as he pours the alcohol. Still holding the vodka, he drank a couple of gulps, burning his throat and making him cough. Psyching himself and biting on his shirt, he poured the rest on his back.

Instantly recoiling, he screamed and dropped the bottle to the floor, shattering it on the ground. He fell to his knees and held the edge of the counter to balance himself, his ears ringing an awful high pitched noise and his back burning like he was on fire. Hunched, his screams turned into loud sobs as he tried to get up again, failing miserably.

When he did manage to get up to grab the paperclip, a shadow was behind him; he looked, but no one was there. Looking back at the mirror, instead of his reflection there was the mirror himself, mimicking his movements, his hands were no longer his, but golden with short fingers and well manicured nails. Inspecting his- well, Glisten’s reflection, he saw the shadow again, but it had morphed into something with more shape: long arms dragging on the floor, matted fur, a gurgling sound coming from it,a mouth that unraveled into a wide smile with uncannily sharp teeth and two red, dead eyes.

He didn’t want to look back. He knew what happened. What he did. And he didn’t want to see Glisten with that expression again.

But it happened anyway.

. . .

Goob . . .

Goob.

— GOOB!

He shot up and swinged where something had touched him, screeching and- and stopping to realize it was Glisten. It was Glisten and he attacked him. It was Glisten scared and on the floor, looking at him like he was a monster, and he was, he really was, he had almost hurt him again. He took a couple of steps away from the mirror, his gaze blurring black with unshed ichor tears and still looking at Glisten, shaking his head.

— Wait- Goob, you didn’t hurt me- I’m fine, it was a reflex. – He had scrambled to his feet and held up his hands, walking towards him.

— HHNNOO! – He had managed to say that even though it hurt and covered his eyes with his elbows, stretching his hands and hiding them behind his back, backing away further. Hitting the wall, he folded into himself, muttering countless apologies and staining his fur black with tears. He stayed there, trying to breathe between sobs. After a couple of seconds he felt the most featherlight touch on his knee, turning into a full palm, firm against his fur and quickly warming up. Sensing Glisten getting closer, he put his knees to his chest, breathing hitching when he felt his body closer and tensing up when he felt light hands on his arms.

— I know you didn’t mean it and I forgive you, even though there’s nothing to forgive. You would never hurt anyone. – The mirror lightly grabbed his arms and guided them down, and because Goob didn’t want to hurt him by resisting he followed his movements, containing his air in and shutting his eyes tightly. Slowly he let them fall to the floor, exhaling heavily and inhaling in surprise at feeling the weight of Glisten on his chest, how he embraced him underneath his arms and laid his head on his chest. — Breathe, slowly.

Goob did as he said, the weight on his chest forcing him to be more intentional as he gulped air out, in, out. It also comforted him, unconsciously following the other’s breathing pattern and synchronizing in a matter of minutes. When he felt calm enough to open his puffy and stained eyes a beautiful scene was revealed to him: Glisten with his eyes closed, snuggling in his chest fur, the firmness of his hug never faltering, unafraid of him. He could . . .

He dared to cross one arm over his back, making sure his hand wasn’t touching him anywhere. Glisten became stiff for a second, slowly relaxing his body fully against him again, he couldn’t even tell if he had fallen asleep. Come to think of it, he was feeling sleepy too. He let himself slip down to his mattress, vaguely arranging a pillow under his head and covering the both of them with the cover before falling asleep to the sound of Glisten’s heartbeat.

. . .

They both woke up to the sound of an elevator arriving and a faint alarm indicating the time before the doors closed. They looked at each other, not even having time to process their sleeping arrangements before both of them put on their respective shoes, gathering their supplies and going outside the room. Glisten was the one to come out, helping himself to go down with the railings. With an attentive ear, he heard Toon voices: Two indistinguishable members of the circus troupe: Yatta and Looey! He almost stumbled with his own legs trying to get to them.

— I know we HAVE to be silent and look for them, but he LITERALLY told me “ !truh teg ll'uoy ro daetsni sgnidnuorrus ruoy no sucoF .roolf a ot evirra uoy sa noos sa ydnac gnirehtag pots ot deen uoY”. As if I already didn’t know that after ALL THIS TIME and as if I COULD EVEN FOCUS! AND I ONLY PICK UP THE ONES NEAR ME!!

— Yatta, we both know he acts like a little old lady, but he’s only worried about you! Besides, he does have a point . . .

— GUYS!

When he finally reached them, he deduced by their gasps and worried gazes he looked at least messy and dirty all over. Even Scraps was intrigued, walking towards him. The two clowns and the ghost that acted like one rushed to him, bombarding him with many questions like:

— Well I'm blown away, you’re alive! Are you okay?

Also to not discard:

— YEAH!! ARE YOU HURT? WHY is your back like THAT!?

The classic:

— Did you not have any makeup in your bag or something? It’s the first time I've seen you like this.

And the one he was waiting for the most:

— Where is Goob?

Scraps was in front of him, hands on her hips, tail swishing and narrow pupils looking at him straight up into his eyes, with barely contained anticipation, frowning but not angered; deeply afraid, already prepared to grieve.

— You should look for yourself.

She was just about to open her mouth and curse him out before he smiled and stepped aside, revealing a tuft of hair and blue claws peeking out of the room, trembling and damaging the wooden beams he was holding onto.

Chapter Text

She dropped the attitude, not breathing for a few seconds, looking for any sign that this was just a dream like the others, that she would wake up and not hear him whistle through his nose, soundly asleep like ever.

— Goob? . . . Is that- Is that you? – Grabbing her by the arm, Looey stopped her from advancing, giving her a worried look.

— Scraps. That may not be him anymore, he might be dangerous.

Incredulous, she shook off his hand, balling her fists and digging her claws into her palms, pupils constricting. — Looey, I know you didn’t just call my brother dangerous. Stay out of this. – Looking at the room in front of them, she went up the stairs, ignoring Glisten, expanding her pupils to take a better look at him, but the blue and red claws retreated when her plastic cup grazed a metal shelf.

— NO! Please . . . Goob, can you- Please let me see you. – She got closer to him, just 6 feet from scribbling and plastic-like sounds. A paw with overgrown and sharp claws stretched slowly towards her, holding a magna doodle they lended kids on pick up-time and leaving it at her feet, having to crouch down to read it.

“please don’t be scared.

i don’t want to hurt you”

She snorted, smiling as tears welled up in her eyes, hugging the magna doodle to her chest. One red eye peeked out of the room, anxious, waiting for something, whatever. — You dummy, you can’t scare no one. – She got up and took careful steps towards the entryway, Goob coming out of the room slowly too, shrinking on himself because of all the eyes looking at him. — Much less scare your sister, right? – Her voice broke down and she dropped the magna doodle, wrapping her tail around his torso and flinging herself at him, hugging him on impact and knocking him to the ground.

“Sister”. It took him a few seconds to process what this meant, but he became teary eyed and his body tensed down when he realized.

Everyone basked in the warmth of the reunion, some still distrustful and others resisting the urge to cry, Yatta failing at keeping it in and bawling, hugging Looey and blowing her nose on his clothes before the clown disgustedly rubbed away her snot and smeared it on her face. Goob had put his paws gently on her back but when he tried to pull away and look at her, he had ripped the collar of her dress and nicked the back of her neck.

When Scraps hissed in pain, Looey started running towards them, believing the worst, grabbing a rusty metal part of the railing off of the floor and lifting it up. A tail wrapped around the pipe and threw it to the ground beside them.

— I SAID STAY OUT OF THIS! – She bared her teeth to him, angry like no one has ever seen her since the aftermath of Goob’s disappearance. Looey stepped back down, eyes darting between her and a guilty Goob, retracting his hands from her and scooting to the opposite wall, muttering unintelligible words that sounded a lot like apologies.

— I’m sorry, I just thought that you were going to- And he-

— And he what? – Goob was still trembling and had his knees against his chest, hiding his face and his arms wrapping around his shoulders. Scraps sighed, wincing while holding the back of her neck. — I’m fine, Looey. You think that he did it on purpose? Look at him!

She searched in her pockets for her nail clipper, now their saving grace. She crawled carefully towards him, kneeling and grabbing one of his paws. He pulled away instantly, giving her almost a paper-cut across her own paw. She suppressed her urge to wince and grabbed him by the arm this time. He lifted his head up, only receiving a warm, imperceptible smile from her. — You just need to get these trimmed up, like before. Your paws always get sharp after a week, can’t imagine . . . – She sniffed, inspecting his nails now that he had relaxed. His fear was replaced by curiosity, waiting for her to finish her sentence. — That’s in the past now, I'm glad you’re okay.

Glisten had stayed on the sidelines, on edge by everything but letting them have their reunion until now. He didn’t like that she wasn’t telling him how much time it had passed, but he wasn’t the right person to judge. He sighed and walked towards them, picking the magna doodle on the way. Handing it over to Goob, he crouched beside Scraps, who had just finished cutting his nails. — His throat is a bit messed up, he can’t talk quite right yet. We’ve been using this to communicate.

Scraps watched in amazement as Goob lighted up at the sight of him, narrowing her eyes and inspecting him up and down, noticing the large area covered by gauze on his back.

“he helped me loads

and told me i had a

sister! 🙂”

Her ears quickly fell to the sides, looking at him for any sign of humor, that it was a joke, but he seemed genuinely happy. — What? Do you not- What do you remember? – He started scribbling on the magnetic board, but midway he frowned and slid the eraser across it, scribbling again, crossing whatever it was on it out, sliding the eraser and getting increasingly frustrated. Glisten put a hand on his paw, squeezing.

— Don’t worry, I'm sure you just need time to remember. – He put on his best facade, but Goob didn’t buy it. Nodding slowly, he stared at the blank board with equally blank eyes, probably trying to still jog his memory for something. He got intimidated by Scrap’s eyes boring into his scalp while helping her brother stand up and backed up.

— Thank you, Glisten. You can leave us be. – She took him away, helping him go down the stairs like he was injured, commenting on how slow he was now. Goob stared at him until Yatta hugged him, giggling and jumping.

It had been the first time since the accident that he saw his fellow Toons with that shine on their eyes, like they hadn’t lived through life-or-death situations. Hope. It was hope, filling each and every one of them. Hope for a future, hope for the possibility that even though their friends were unrecognizable, they could still reach out to them and save them, just like with Goob. He adored seeing that silly craft with a smile on his face, changed and still undeniably himself. He understood the resentment Scraps had towards him. Too well, for he also felt that resentment towards himself. Sometimes, when he was alone in front of his vanity and in the dead of night, he inspected his cracked mirror and wished that it broke completely, to atone for his burdensome nature. He knew it wasn’t good for Goob to keep talking with him; because of his selfless nature and his own selfishness, they would clash and drain the other’s energy dry. Still, why was he left grabbing his chest and wishing he could reach his own heart to squeeze any ache and tenderness he felt for the craft?

Connie floated next to him, using his shoulder as an armrest and watching the scene with him. — It’s hard to see them psyched up while you’re moping around, right? – Glisten looked at her, a little insulted, but motivated to keep an unbothered persona. He grabbed her elbow and pushed it to the side. — Tch, like you’re any better. It’s just . . .

— Juuuuust . . . ? – She spun in the air and got really close to his face, fluttering her eyelashes and waiting for gossip, one of her only entertainments now.

— He’s like a superhero: humble, self-sacrificing. I feel like if something happens again he will be too impulsive to think it through before stepping up. And look at what happened last time he tried to “save” someone! I don’t want him to end up hurt again. – He wasn’t lying and he wasn’t telling the whole truth either. There was something else there, but out of all the Toons there that ghost was the worst at keeping secrets.

She was satisfied, though. She nodded thoughtfully, staring into the distance and patting his back twice. — Thank you, for trusting me with your feelings. Now keep up, or we'll go back up without you! – She hid in a box next to Looey and promptly spooked him, the clown jumping and tripping with a chair from the scare.

Glisten sighed, massaging between his neck and his shoulder before going over to the rest of the team, when suddenly the lights started flickering. It wasn’t the usual flickering that would take place in an educational center, no, it was more violent. More erratic. They all know what it means.

— Find the maintenance room NOW! – Scraps ran off grabbing Goob’s paw towards the right side of the floor, Looey and Connie going to the left. Only he and Yatta stayed to check out the upstairs section.

Yatta’s demeanor turned anxious quickly, something that wasn’t common in her before Gigi’s bite. She was biting on her paper maché nails, even though they were bound to fall off because of the moisture if she kept going. — What am I even supposed to do when I SEE her!? Es que- I’m not like Looey! I can’t distract them like him!! – Her accent was fading into a tremble and she was starting to breathe heavily, right until Glisten held out a couple of candies to her face. — Here, you’re cuckoo for candy, right?

She looked at him directly, a small, grateful smile escaping her while snatching them from his hand and crunching on one, spitting out the wrapper a moment later. — That was couch candy, you might have wanted to unwrap it first . . .

— Don’t care! Still DELICIOUS! – When she swallowed, she separated her legs and moved her torso to the sides, cracking her back. She lifted one until the knee touched her shoulder, did the same with the other side, then she did a forward bend, putting her palms flush against the floor and then some. And finally, if that wasn’t impressive enough for Glisten she did a back-bend, her head almost touching the floor. — OKAY! All warmed up! And- THANK YOU SO MUCH!! – She hugged Glisten tight, resting her tails on his shoulders before hearing the pained whines of Glisten and letting go. — NOOOO OHMYGODITOTALLYFORGOTI’MSOSOSORRY-

— Yatta! – His voice came out cracked and breathless. Clearing his throat and gulping air, he recomposed. — Yatta, it’s fine, let’s look around.

Just as they were going to check the door on the room where Goob and Glisten were sleeping, the lights flickered once. Twice. Too many to count. Something short circuited, they heard a scream and the lights were off, the elevator door falling all the way to the floor with no electricity to hold the spring system in place. — DARN! I hope they find her soon!! We STILL have to extract these to get out of here-

They both heard a bang on the door behind them, loud. Scratching too, and growling. That wasn’t her, she was too smart to not trap herself. Glisten grabbed Yatta’s arm, did a shushing gesture and pointed at the side. He jumped the railing, falling on the love seats below, the piñata following him. She was about to say something but Glisten put a hand over her mouth. A bang, another bang. Wood cracking, the growling becoming stronger and stronger until the Twisted busted the door down. It scratched the floor, shaking its head and sniffing the air. Peeking between the railings, his mirror reflected a pair of eyes looking at him that were not Brightney’s, but were just as red as hers.

Chapter Text

Lunging at him, Coal bent the raised room’s rails trying to bite Glisten through them. His quick thinking was the only thing that saved him, grabbing a pillow and putting it on her mouth, letting her bite down on it and shake it, tearing it in half with her teeth and one of her hind legs. — Yatta, don’t just stand there, RUN! – Scrambling out of the couch to get up and grab a frozen Yatta by her forearm, he shook her by the shoulders until her far away gaze returned to what was now inches in front of her.

Coal managed to jump above them to get to Yatta, but Glisten janked her away before she could sink her teeth into her other arm. She slammed her lower jaw on the floor, whimpering and struggling to get up, fresh ichor guzzling from her punctured tongue. Putting his arm over her shoulders, she dragged him towards some crates and crouched behind them, her eyes remaining on a disgruntled Coal, sniffing the air and stalking over to where she knew Looey was. Her face changed from uncertainty to absolute resolution, munching on a lemon candy before handing her fanny pack to Glisten. — You guys do machines, I GOT IT!

He held onto her forearm, not wanting her to do what she was about to do, but she easily slipped out of his grasp. Jumping down swiftly and landing on her tippytoes, she whistled loudly and took in a bunch of air, Coal’s ears perking up and turning towards her direction. — A VER SI ME CACHAS, YOU BIG CHUNK! – Taking off behind the bookshelves, Coal growled and followed suit. Yatta slid under a kids drawing table to throw her off but Coal jumped on it, breaking it in half. Thankfully, Yatta had dodged to the side just in time and saw a mirror scurrying to the room behind, giving him a peace sign and immediately hiding her arm underneath the table again to dodge Coal’s powerful front fangs.

— GUYS, GOOB, SOMEONE! — His voice was strained, wandering in the dark with only his piggy flashlight. He bumped into a machine and tried to get to work, but the rusty valve was turning on its own, the machine filling up with ichor quickly. When the machine dinged as done and the light turned green, he noticed blue flickering and put his hands on the glass, only for Connie to pop out and scream, resulting in Glisten falling on his behind and screaming too. Connie only snickered, sliding out of the machine and floating to the other end of the room, towards a glowing red bulb. — Too late, pretty boy. LOOEY, THIS ONE’S DONE!

Getting closer, he saw Looey getting off the machine and sprinting towards him, trembling with anxiousness. — We heard the commotion, where’s Yatta?

— She's near the elevator, but- somehow Coal is here and she’s really fast-

Looey pushed him out of the way by his shoulder towards where Yatta was. When Glisten looked through the window, Yatta climbed with her ribbons a machine pipe and jumped on top of a bookshelf before Coal slammed her body on the machine and broke the valve. — NO! MALDICIÓN! – Coal started to jump to try and bite her, her mouth shutting closed each time she almost reached the top. The piñata tried her best to keep her body against the wall, but the yellow drained from her face when Coal latched her claws on the shelves and started to scale, making the bookshelf tilt towards, opening her mouth and waiting for Yatta to fall.

She didn’t expect to have Looey come between the wall and the bookshelf, pushing with his legs and making it fall on Coal, grabbing Yatta by her ribbons and saving her from falling with the dog. — GOD, LOOEY! – She hugged him by the side, almost brought to tears because of the gratefulness and adrenaline, her legs wobbling. He smiled and ruffled her “hair”, but instantly turned serious when he heard Coal whining and scratching at the floor from underneath. — See? Knew you could do it. But she’s too fast and you’re too tired, there’s a machine in the back. – He searched in his matching fanny pack for a thumbtack and, with a deep breath, jammed it in the back of his head and calves, hissing in pain and with ichor dripping from the new puncture wounds, but already feeling lighter and almost floating.

— LOOEY, BUT-

— JUST GO! This is my “planetary walk” trick, I'll be fine as always! – She stayed a couple of seconds before nodding and trotting to the opposite direction past Glisten and Connie, just as Coal was sliding out of the bookshelf. — EY! There’s a machine where COAL is AND THE VALVE BROKE! WHAT DO WE DO!?

Glisten was focused on getting the valve from the machine in front of them unstuck with his wrench, but he couldn’t get the thing to budge. — Yatta, let me do this first . . . Come on, I can not be wasting time like this-

A tail wrapped around the pipe and Glisten barely got out of the way before Scraps came in flying and kicked the wrench, falling to the floor painfully because of the inertia but ultimately getting the machine going and pumping almost half the ichor needed before stopping. She slowly got up, grabbing her head and shaking off her entire body before putting on her usual stoic look. — Did my cup get crumpled? HURRY UP!

Connie hurried and got inside the machine while Yatta was already at the other side, but Glisten was worried for someone else. — Scraps, where is Goob? – It was like he summoned him, because as soon as he said that, a red light flew into the window behind them and shattered the glass, crossing over to a room with a Looey and Coal equally frightened before resuming the chase. Scraps hissed, a sad look on her face, having empathy for the lamp even though she was long gone. — I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t change his mind, that dumbass.

He didn’t have time to gasp at her use of language before Brightney slowly got up, broken glass stabbing her entire body. She still had the numbness and energy to try to go after them but Goob appeared on the left side of the room, snarling. He was scratched all over and walked over where she was limping, only glancing at the mirror with an absolutely terrifying look before grabbing the lamp by her shade and dragging her to the supply closet they found her in.

As if reading his mind, Scraps ran towards them and Glisten followed. While Goob threw her in there and pressed his back against the door, she and Glisten made the effort to push a nearby bookshelf towards the door, Brightney growling and screaming and banging her whole body on the door, while Goob panted and struggled to keep her there. Finally, when they got close enough Goob pulled on the doorknob until it broke and switched over to help them push the bookshelf flush against the wall, just as Brightney tried to open the door. All three collapsed against it, needing to rest for a few seconds, still hearing her screeching.

— DONE! Two out of four! – Called out Connie after a ding.

— DONE HERE TOO!! THE BROKEN’S LEFT!

Glisten pushed himself out of the room towards Yatta, an idea forming in his mind. Yatta looked at him weird when he crouched and started unscrewing the valve from the machine, but quickly understood and ran where Looey was, yelling to lead Coal to the raised floor. Goob wandered to Glisten and stood above him, grunting questioningly. — The last machine’s valve broke, and we need to replace it. – Still staring, when the mirror took it out of the machine he went ahead and carried it with ease, nodding. Glisten nodded back and they both ran to the other side of the floor, hearing growling in the distance and Goob helping Glisten evade the broken glass on the floor that was too hard to see for a normal Toon, looking apologetic.

They both got to work, Goob loosening the screws and Glisten unscrewing them the rest of the way, the messed up valve clattering on the side when they were done. — Okay, gather everyone up, I’ll be done here in no time-

— WATCH OUT! – Looey had yelled from afar, a deflated arm oozing out ichor from a nasty bite, pointing his flashlight at red eyes approaching rapidly.

The craft pushed him out of the way before Coal could tear his neck off, receiving a bite on his shoulder for him. Glisten, horrified by his grunts and cries, took his wrench and swung at the side of her head, multiple times. — GET OFF OF HIM! – Only until the 5th hit, when he aimed at her canines and chipped one of them, did she yelp in pain and let go of Goob’s shoulder, rubbing and hitting her head with the surrounding furniture.

Glisten checked Goob’s shoulder, grimacing at the violent sight as he took off his ribbon and wrapped it carefully, tying it into place underneath his armpit before looking up into his eyes and glancing at a hallway with boxes piled in the middle. — Thank you, but we need to hide now.

— Nhno.

— What do you mean, “no”!? Look at your shoulder! HEY!

Coal had stopped whining seconds ago, her head low and eyes piercing, waiting for the moment to strike them, Goob approaching her slow but steady. The mirror muttered something underneath his breath before jumping on the machine and starting to turn the wheel as fast as he could. — EVERYONE, GO! BE CAREFUL!

He glanced back periodically, biting his own lip in concern every time he saw Goob wrestling with an increasingly agitated Coal, throwing him into the ground and walls. He redirected her slowly to the raised room, at one point throwing her up there, the only indicator of their fight being two pairs of red eyes and constant growling. With the pink piggy flashlight in his mouth, he could see silhouettes of his fellow Toons gathered in front of the elevator, hidden behind metal shelving.

As soon as the machine dinged and the doors opened, Coal came barreling towards the inside of the elevator with Goob wrapped around her neck. Before she could reach the rest of them, Goob pressed tightly on her neck and pulled, making her fall backwards and crushing her trachea, consecutively dragging her by the red harness still attached to her away from the elevator. As soon as Glisten got inside, Scraps slammed the “force close” button, peeking out and looking for her brother. — GOOB, GET IN HERE ALREADY!

For a few seconds, there was nothing and the door was halfway from closing. Her tail swished side to side, ears perked up and pupils blown off, looking for any sign of him. What she saw instead were 4 fangs about to bite her face off, had it not been for Goob throwing Coal’s body across the room, through the broken window, before grabbing onto Scraps’ stretched tail and sliding under the almost closed door.

The elevator slowly went up a floor, the only thing illuminating it multiple flashlights with various luminosities and color temperatures, heavy breathing accompanying the mechanical sounds. Everyone was exhausted, their bodies limp, numb and damaged. But they survived.

— Is everyone okay? – Scraps pointed her flashlight on each Toon, checking them over for injuries and taking notes mentally. When she got to Goob, he was resting his head on Glisten’s shoulder, his eyes black with unshed tears, trembling, the mirror petting and combing through his fur in an attempt to calm him down. Looey just gave her a thumbs up, smiling weakly. He blew on his thumb and re-inflated his arm for Yatta to identify his injuries, spray disinfecting alcohol and cover with clear tape. — Well, happy to be alive! . . .

Scraps sighed, shaking her head and turning to the now open elevator, a floor above the chaos, trying to hide the smile creeping up on her. They all turned their flashlights off and limped out of the elevator, collapsing on the floor. Goob and Glisten were still on edge, scanning the room for danger. Connie noticed and got between them, hugging both of their shoulders and patting their cheeks. — Guys, relaaax, this is a clear floor.

Glisten slumped his shoulders, indeed relaxing and laying flat on the floor with everyone else while Goob went over to Scraps and hugged her reluctantly, letting himself cry on her when she hugged back. — I was so scared too. Why are you so darn stubborn? If you died I wasn’t going to grieve you all over again, because this time you would have deserved it, you stupid goof-off. – Despite her harsh words, she was the one hugging the tightest and crying the hardest.

The mirror smiled at the scene, his humor lifting, comfortable enough to close his eyes for a moment.

Yeah, this was nice, he would just rest his eyes for a while.

. . .

Chapter Text

With bleary eyes, he woke up confused and feverish, amidst sleeping bodies around him huddled up in all sorts of pillows and blankets, including himself. Shoulders aching from sleeping on his front side again, he stretched out and felt his back, his tender wound being covered by new bandages kept in place with a much less delicate grey duct tape. He took the coat he was using last time off his legs, wondering how they managed to bring it and who did, and opened his vanity bag, which was his current pillow. Pulling out his piggy flashlight and smiling, he turned it on and pointed it at the Toons around him: Connie haunting a potted plant, shivering from time to time in her sleep; Looey sleeping on a couch with his head on an armrest; Yatta resting her head on the other armrest, limbs strewn around, with one foot pushing Looey’s head progressively off of the couch; Scraps curled into a ball on a beanbag and Goob-

The blue armchair beside Scraps was empty. It was probably Goob’s.

Where is he?

Getting up and inspecting the place, he pointed his flashlight around the room. — Goob? Are you here? – If he really was there, he wouldn’t have heard his soft whispers anyway. With light steps, he turned a corner and saw the elevator’s door, still shut. Walking to the other elevator now, he heard sounds. Objects falling to the ground, glass clinking together. Breathing, heavy breathing. Crouching, he saw a white light coming out of the maintenance room at the end of the hallway. Creeping up slowly, he noticed those were Goob’s weird grunts, and straightening his back he opened his mouth to say hi. Of course, nothing came out, being that the craft was trying to open what appeared to be a capsule full of ichor, with a bunch of empty ones by his feet. When he got frustrated, he stabbed the glass with his suddenly sharp claws, breaking the capsule in half and rushing to drink it all before it spilled, glass shards and all.

Breathe in, breathe out. He didn’t see him nor heard him, he was too busy licking his ichor-covered paws with a too-wrong tongue. Breathe in, breathe out. He started slowly backing up, not daring to turn around even if he could hear him throw the capsule and try to open a new one. From what he saw, there were three capsules on the box left- no, two now. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in . . .

Screw that.

First walking, then faster, then running, he reached the others, stumbling and falling on the side of his torso with a loud thud. Loud enough to startle everyone into consciousness, Looey leaping at him and helping him stand up.

— Glisten, you ok?

— What happened? And Goob? – While Scraps checked the hallways, Looey wiped off his drool and got his flashlight, searching the room, only finding a bleary-eyed Yatta and Connie’s glow inspecting the surroundings too.

— He was- He was drinking ichor!

The room fell silent. His throat felt dry, looking at all the dread seeping onto their faces, surely seeing in his own expression that it was true. He coughed. — There are these capsules, I don’t know where he got them- He was like, feral, he ONLY cared about drinking the ichor there, just like a- one of them! – He breathed hard, waiting for them to say something, but all there was in that room was uncertainty. Frustrated, he grabbed Scraps arms and got in her face, the paper craft shivering. — He was eating the glass stained with ichor, Scraps! What do we- what do we do NOW!?-

— SHUT UP! I DON’T- I don’t . . . – Her voice cracked as her eyes filled with tears, a mix of fear and regret and grief making her hair stand up and her claws bunch up and tear at her dress. Looey gulped and put his trembling hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Slowly, she hid her face in his chest, clawing at his turtleneck and shaking, Looey hugging her back with a grimace.

Yatta stood up, ushering Connie along and walked to their little circle. Breathe in. — We already know where the machines are. We DO ‘em, we RUN to the elevator and . . . – Breathe out. — And think what to do with Goob when we’re safe.

Everyone seemed to weigh in their choices, and though with doubt, they made the same choice. — OKAY, TOONS! You Connie do the closest one, but DON’T fill it all the way, wait for all of us to be there FIRST. LOOEY! You’re faster than all of us, do the one next to the dead ele. SCRAPS does the one in the left nook, ME do the one on the right, and YOU Glisten stay RIGHT-

— Hhh- Heee . . .

A pair of dangerous arms pulled Glisten into the dark. The only sign of what did it were ratty sneakers and two red, unblinking eyes, looking towards all except one. Surprisingly, the hug didn’t harm him this time, but Goob was hugging him tight, too tight, just like that time. Worse, his whole back was pressed to his torso, making his swollen wounds seep again and creating pain that shot through his spine and out of his mouth, letting out a quiet whimper and a few tears down his face. Looking at the side, his too-sharp teeth and too-long tongue hovered over his neck, making Glisten feel his hot breath reeking of copper and rot on his skin. With how much they were both trembling, he didn’t move so as to not trigger something that would be his end.

— GOOB! Goob, please- Please don’t hurt him. Just- Let him go, please. – Ah, and he thought Scraps hated him. Or maybe she doesn’t want her brother to do something terrible. As she moved forward, he moved backwards, tightening, trembling more. — Ca- Can’t . . .

Glisten shut his eyes tightly, trying to escape from the pain and the begging and screaming of his coworkers, but when he saw Goob, he never expected the terrified look on his face. He never expected to hear rumbling or feel the acid tears mixed with saliva on his cheek, too. Salivating. Salivating?

— HE’S HUNGRY! – He managed to croak the clue out before Goob nicked his neck, whining like he himself was in pain while licking at the tiny cut. Luckily, Scraps caught the untold order and searched frantically on the red wagon for something. Gasping, she quickly unwrapped a P&J sandwich from its napkin and wrapped her tail around it, getting it closer to them, stretching just enough to not get hurt when Goob chomped on it, loosening his grip around Glisten and letting him slither out. Looey got him away from Goob while he was busy scarfing down the sandwich, crying, shoulders relaxing.

Everyone waited as he finished his food, his sobbing turning to wailing as he finished. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t talk. Frustrated, he banged his fists on his head, almost like punishing himself.

Glisten, now covering his neck, reached for Goob’s backpack and ripped out the board, climbing over a bean bag, handing it to Scraps. She nodded and used her tail as a whip to throw the board towards him, landing upside down beside her brother. Without looking up, he hid behind metal shelves and scribbled on it, wiping his face on his arm, his breathing still erratic. When he finished, he stretched out his arm, shaking, without looking, leaving the board three feet away from them. Scraps picked it up, read it and showed it to the rest.

“im sorry im sorry pleas please

i didnt mean to idont know what

its happening to me it was a

an accident i couldnt control my

self help me what is happening”

. . .

They hung around while Goob calmed down for an hour, Scraps and Glisten the closest to him, sitting down and reassuring him from afar while the mirror got patched up by Connie. At the same time, Looey kept passing him through them protein bars, Yatta contributing with candies, all which he ate swiftly. — Glistenn, soo . . . He like, did this to you too? – Her hand ghosted over his back with fresh gauze, making Glisten feel a calming coolness, grabbing her other hand and putting it on his forehead, sighing as the headache and fever calmed down. — Thank you, I didn’t know it was getting infected. And . . . Yes. But he didn’t do anything else! He saved me countless times, and he’s still sweet and caring, this isn’t like him.

— That’s clear enough. – Looey jumped off a desk, sighing and looking over where Goob was still hiding, pity in his eyes. — Even if he’s still conscious, right now? He’s dangerous.

— He’s NOT dangerous! At least not anymore, he was just hungry-

— We don’t know that, Scraps. We don’t know if it was only because he was hungry, but even if he WAS “just hungry” that's still DANGEROUS! – Scraps was startled by his frustration, curving her body and bunching up her dress. As soon as he noticed her low ears, he sighed, crouching in front of her. — Sorry for yelling, just . . . Let’s be honest, until we figure out how he can control this uhh, wildness, it’s not safe to be around him. Not for you, or us, or him.

Scrap’s tail was swishing from side to side, her pupils constricting and relaxing, trying to figure out how to feel. The magna doodle slid towards them after a moment.

“hes right

i dont want

to hurt

anyone again”

She read it and re-read it again. Her tail stopped swishing and she looked at Looey for a long time, paying attention to every one of his features. He could only offer and awkward, tired smile under her gaze and a cautious arm around her shoulder. She let her head fall on his shoulder, eyes half closed and throat raspy. — How do we . . . bring him up with us? – The clown suddenly looked really nervous and not only because of her ears tickling his neck, at which Scraps piped up, scrunching her face in anticipated indignation. — Looey.

— Sooo . . . Me and Connie- uh, Connie and me we just uhmmm, thought, of ah, a few ideas-

The ghost suddenly appeared over his head, gaining a yelp from him. She pulled on his ears, enough to straighten his back and gain his attention. — Uuuugh, just spit it out! The cage over there that has wheels also has a lock. We put him in the cage. Boom.

— WHAT!! – Yatta was on a machine on the opposite side of the room, having taken her eyes off the machine because of the indignation both she and Scraps shared. Just then the ichor pressure got too low and an alarm sounded throughout the surrounding areas, making the Toons wince. However, Goob growled and covered his ears, pressing hard on the sides of his head before whipping his whole body around, attacking the metal shelves in front of him and looking at Yatta, infuriated. Then, as he breathed, his pupils relaxed, he looked at the figures surrounding him and thought they seemed scared of him. Realizing what he almost did, he retreated again, now further into a corner.

Everyone sighed in relief soon after, Yatta almost collapsing onto the machine from it. — Dio’ santo, NOW I see WHY.

— It still feels . . . Wrong. Like he was an animal or something. — Glisten tried to take a better look at Goob, wanting to figure out what he was thinking, how he was feeling. Even though he had an idea, he still wanted to talk with him. Ask him if he was fine. Maybe even- Maybe even hug him-

— And it’s degrading. – Scraps huffed and jumped on top of a box, back facing the group, tail swishing and arms crossed.

— Oh I’m sorry, girl. You think we like doing this?? Or that we didn’t consider any other option.

Glisten coughed, seeking to ease the tension brewing between Connie and an increasingly irritated craft, getting almost all eyes on him. Normally that would please him. — I don’t hold how he has behaved during the last hour against him, he didn’t even know this would even happen, I think. But . . . Can you blame us for being a little careful? Or scared? He’s Goob, darn it, even though he’s the most lovable guy here, he needs our help to get back to normal.

She tapped her nails against the box, not responding for a while. Sighing, she jumped off and headed towards the cage, opening it and grabbing pillows from the camp to put in there. Satisfied, she closed it. — Only if we get him out of it when it’s safe. And if he agrees to it.

They all looked at him now, knowing he could hear and waiting for a response. Goob twitched, standing up slowly and moving to the side, now without anything in the way. He looked between his sister, Glisten and the cage, then nodded. The group pushed the cage towards him and stepped out of his line of sight, for Goob to then stretch his arms, bring it towards him and climb inside, indicating that he was ready by closing the lid and tapping the metal three times.

. . .

With the last machine dinging green, they hurried to push all of their supplies and things they also found on that floor inside, including Goob, who was actually uncomfortably folded in the cage, whining a bit. Noticing this, Glisten made sure that no one was looking at them and stuck his fingers through the cage, heart accelerating. — It’s going to be okay, the lock is sturdy. – He offered his best smile, hiding the band-aid on his neck with the coat’s collar. Goob, without taking his mesmerized eyes off his face, grazed his fingers with the back of his paw, then his head and finally, with one corner of his mouth.

Chapter Text

His hand wouldn’t stop burning from where Goob brushed him, holding it close to his chest and sparing quick glances to where the cage was through the reflection on the TV, checking his own complexion too, with Connie on top of it rolling her eyes. Everyone was exhausted by the day’s events, a tense kind of silence permeating the elevator, the only thing breaking the silence being the wrapper sounds coming from the chocolate bars Looey and Yatta were eating, Scraps whispering to Goob and the near annoying hum of the white light above them.

After about 5 long minutes inside, the door finally started to open to the top of the Toon’s Rooms. The first thing they heard was incessant bell chimes from their little “alert system”, of course being sounded by no other than Shrimpo. — GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE! THEY CAME BACK- . . . The fuck?

— Dude, why are you so surprised we’re alive? Have you no faith in a wittle old ghost like me? – At least everything stayed the same. He could see that shrimp getting redder by the minute at the mere presence of Connie’s sarcastic smile.

He took a very deep breath, before balling his brutish fists by his sides. — I don’t care about you, I care about THAT FUCKASS TWISTED INSIDE THE CAGE!! WHY DID YOU BRING HIM!?

The rest of the Toons started congregating near the elevator but hid behind the reception. Next thing he knew, Scraps and Looey were pushing Goob out of the elevator, who was now all huddled up and gripping the metal mesh and bending it little by little,rubbing the sides of his head against his shoulders. Noticing this, Scraps climbed quickly up the crates where Shrimpo was situated, grabbing him by the cuff of his denim jacket, pupils like pinpricks. — Shut your goddamned trap or I swear to god I’m shoving the bell right up your-

— Heya! Shrimpo, haha, good to see you buddy! — Looey popped his head up to where she was shaking him, struggling to climb up, skin squeaking until he could finally get there and grab Scraps’ hands carefully off of Shrimpo, hugging her by the side and resting his hand in her forearm. Her hair stood up higher, if it was even possible. — Uhm. What she said, he doesn’t like noise right now.

— Yeah, yeah, I know, BECAUSE HE’S A-

Looey promptly put his hand on his mouth, making a shushing gesture and pointing at Goob, who was now completely silent, squeezing his knees together and digging his claws into his knees, looking directly at Shrimpo and breathing heavily through his nose. Peeking out of the reception, Toodles also made a shushing gesture to Shrimpo before being pulled back by Rodger. The shrimp could only sigh and murmur, jumping off the crates and flinching when passing by Goob, who growled quietly until he disappeared from his line of sight. — Why’s everyone ganging up on me all the sudden, I’m right!

Both soon jumped off too before the rest came out of hiding. The first to greet the rest was Blot, who just opened his arms and let two hyperactive and colorful idiots run to him and tackle him to the ground. — AHHH BLOT!- Digo, ahhhh Blot! I’m so glad to see you again, bro! That was super scary, look how BAD Looey got hurt! – She proceeded to yank Looey’s arm and show all the tape patching up Coal’s bite to Blot, who sternly shook his head and pinched his cheek. — Ow! Why did you rat me out??

— .ssabmud ,etar siht ta seceip ot deppir teg annog er'uoY

— Wow buddy, language- Ow! Stop pinching me! – Looey swatted Blot’s hand out of his face, but the ink blob splashed ink in his eyes.

As the trio kept playfully bickering, Toodles ran up to Glisten and jumped at his chest, hugging his waist and bunching up the remnants of his pink ribbon. — GLISTEN!

It took him a few seconds after wincing a bit before her toothy smile and the sight of the 8 in her forehead ripped a smile through the bone-deep exhaustion and made him respond. He lifted her up in the air and even though it made him dizzy he spinned her in the air too, just like always. — Toodles! Hiii buddy! How are you doing? You better be good! – He rested her on his arm and tidied off her sweatshirt, smudged with purple paint.

— I am good! Even better when you’re here! Why did it take you so long to come back? I thought you turned bad like Boxten. – Her ever so observant eyes now went over his injuries and his ribbon, the tremble of his arm, the eyebags. — Don’t worry, I’m here now, aren’t I? – As much as he tried to hide his mental state, the guilt slowly creeping in and the muscle strain, the control slowly slipped from him like sand. Thankfully Rodger had noticed and took her from his arms, polishing the side of her head and shooting a scanning glance at him. Glisten smiled back, relieved to see a trusted face.

— And a certain craft has told me it is thanks to a very special Toon that all of them came back . . . practically unscathed. He has changed quite a bit, so keep your distance, Toodles. – He walked back to where Scraps was explaining the situation to Tisha, Vee and Teagan, setting the 8-ball down. — Scraps. Do you mind if Toodles takes a look? I am afraid that if she does not, she will sneak out and go visit him unsupervised.

Scraps narrowed her eyes at Rodger before sighing and crouching and putting her paws on her shoulders. —Hey kid, you and Goob were very good friends, yeah? – Toodles nodded, expertly matching the seriousness on the craft’s face. — Okay, so . . . We gotta be quiet, he’s not feeling himself so we’re gonna be very . . .?

— Very quiet, yes.

— Exactly. And no sudden movements either, he’s still your friend but can get a little grumpy, and he can’t talk for now either, so a quick hello and that’s it for now, got it?

She nodded again, swallowing nervously and muttering a barely audible “Stay brave!” to herself. He looked to Glisten and made a grabby hand, the mirror rushing over and taking it, noticing how her shoulders relaxed a bit. The three of them walked to the crate that had a white cover over it now. Scraps lifted half of it and there was Goob, slumped on one side, eyes closed. The mirror got the closest to him, reaching inside the crate to nudge him. — Hey Goob, look who came by to say hi? Her name is Toodles, remember her?

His eyes suddenly opened wide. Groaning, he made his way to their side and kept looking around until he realized he had to look down. Grabbing the crate with his claws for better stability, he smiled wide and friendly, preparing his throat for a short greeting.

— . . . Hhhi.

His voice came out raspier and deeper than he intended to, but it was more like a combination of his red and focused eyes, his sharp smile, his size, the matted fur covered in ichor AND his voice that made the greeting truly short. At first, Toodles wanted to say hi back, she really did, but her voice got stuck in her throat. Her eyes watered, she sniffed and trembled and bunched up her shorts with her tiny hands and before she could fully wail, an attentive Teagan clicked her heels fast towards them, picked her up and clicked away even faster, wincing when the sound blast finally went off. — W-WAHH! TEA-TEAGAAAN!!

As Teagan bounced her on her hip and rubbed her back, she looked apologetically at Goob, who was fully bummed out and had retreated further in the corner. — I am so sorry, my friend! It’s the first time she has seen one since the panic back in June.

Scraps covered the crate and shook her head, pushing it towards Boxten’s room with effort. Glisten decided to help too and he switched places, with her correcting and dragging on the front and the mirror pushing from the back. He lifted a corner of the blanket, catching Goob’s red glow in his skin. — Don’t worry Goob, she’s a kind kid, after the scare passes over she’ll bother you non-stop, let’s see if you can handle that. – After winking, Goob snorted a bit, instantly coughing after, but still endeared.

— We already sorted this out, he’ll stay here and Blot and Shrimpo will take turns supervising. No one goes out and no one goes in except for hygiene and food. Until they do an interview and we vote on what to do, no one can talk to him or be with him alone either.

— What? Why is he being treated like a criminal? It’s not like talking to him will be dangerous or anything.

After parking the crate in front of the door, Scraps fiddled with a bundle of keys and opened the door. Barely anything other than a couple of wooden crates was new there, it was almost untouched, only clean because of Tisha’s cleaning sprees. — Obviously I wasn’t part of the decision. Heck, I’m not even part of the so-called “council” that gets to interview him. I get that I’m technically biased but- Ugh! – She was about to yank the lock harshly before remembering the noise issue. Exhaling slowly, she managed to unlock it, put the cover aside and open the steel crate. Glisten turned the lights off for Goob’s comfort, and that’s when his tuft of fluff peeked out of the cage.

— We need to go now, Goob. Blot’s coming soon, so remember: one knock for food, two for bathroom and three for emergencies, got it? – When Goob had his feet on the ground once again, he nodded, looking expectantly at her. She slumped her shoulders and hugged her brother, tangling her tail around his shoulders and Goob mimicking her with his arms, careful to not touch her with his hands. — Please stay safe, I’ll see you when it’s time to get all that gunk out of your fur. I . . . I missed you, little bro.

They all heard a knock on the door and turned to an annoyed Blot, holding in his hand a “Blot Jr” and sticking a toy voice box inside it. He pressed the sculpture’s chest, whispered something to it and pressed it again, the sculpture emitting his voice in a higher pitch.

“!smra eldoon ,ereh revO”

After their goodbyes, both Glisten and Scraps exited the room, Blot shutting the door behind them and crossing his arms. — .tuo mih tel uoy erofeb moor eht ni eb ot em rof tiaw ot desoppus erew uoY

— Oh, screw you, Monsieur “I need a bonnet to fake being French”. I can’t say goodbye to my own brother now? – She swished her tail again in irritation, leading Glisten to Brightney’s room, that was now a makeshift infirmary.

— !tac gnikcuf siht fo daol a teg ,eeG

— You’re forgetting I can understand you, shitstain!

. . .

Glisten had changed out of his clothes and into a loose long-sleeved white shirt and tight, fuzzy pajama pants with a purple flannel pattern, to make his obligatory stay in the infirmary more comfortable. He was laid on his front, allowing Teagan to look over his wound, slowly falling asleep just from her calming presence. After a few seconds, she touched his wounds with her cool porcelain fingertips, making Glisten jolt. — Forgive me, dear, I just wanted to see how bad it’s infected, but there’s no pus or excessive swelling. Who did your stitches? That ghost can’t be that neat, she’s always so lazy with them.

— They are? Goob did them, so I assumed they would be messy.

— So would I, but all this dental floss makes sense now. – She giggled with that deep, caramel voice of hers as she searched for the iodine spray. She sprayed a chunk of cotton with it and dragged it gently on the wounds, then patting them. — Got to say, his pulse is impressive then. Okay, we’re done here, stay like that while I prepare green tea with a bit of ginger, it will make your swelling go down. Any other pains?

At first, Glisten stayed quiet, his face a bit shameful. — Uhh, maybe ibuprofen? I, uhm, I thought it was a quick run and I went all dolled up just because, but I’ve been tucked for almost 2 days up until I changed clothes. And uh . . . It hurts.

— Oh my goodness! Yes, of course you poor thing. I was bringing that to you anyways,so you have nothing to worry about, just rest. Tomorrow is for the big decisions, now you need to take a break.

— Thank you, Teagan. I’m truly grateful, you’re such an angel.

He waited until he heard her heels far off into the distance to relax onto the bed, still looking at his hand, still remembering those eyes when he drifted off into sleep.

Chapter Text

6 hours had passed since Glisten arrived at the “infirmary”. In his sleep, people would come and go, trying to do so as silently as possible to not wake him up, but he was always a light sleeper. Although some visits were readily welcome, that’s what he thought as he heard a discussion of how badly he’d been hurt and how he’s surely just fine, really. To save them the trouble, he got up and put his slippers on before opening the door. — Razzle, Dazzle. Missed me? What am I saying? Of course you did! – He nonchalantly waved a hand at them, fixing his posture and trying to distract from the fact that his eyebags probably touched the ground.

— Glisten! You’re awake! (We were worried about you, friend . . .) – They both went for a hug, before Dazzle stopped dead in his tracks and whispered in Razzle’s ear. — Uhuh, yeah. We’re not going to hug you! (. . . Because Teagan told us your back was badly hurt.)

Though it was very thoughtful, Glisten rolled his eyes and huffed, deciding to hug them instead, pinning their arms to their sides and putting his head between them both. — Who cares? You’re not gonna deny me a proper welcome. – He snickered and smiled when he felt each head put their chin on his shoulders. Even though it was a short time apart, he missed his friends. Talking about friends . . . — Oh, how is Vee doing? Is she still-

— I mean, kind of. But now she gets out for her circuits’ maintenance! (Not a lot outside of that . . . She said she wanted to be one of the judges, since she’s the only “main” of the cast left here now.) – Razzle looked to the sides, looking for something to do, something to change the topic to, meanwhile Dazzle fiddled with one end of their scarf. It was uncomfortable for all of them to discuss this, even more so because she and all the other Toons avoided the topic altogether.

Glisten opened his eyes wide, racking his brain for a reason as to why she wanted to suddenly involve herself after being in “her” room almost since the start. He planned mentally to go visit her after Teagan let him go, but he was interrupted by the perkier theater twin.

— I mean, I wouldn’t ever talk bad about my friends! But that does sound weird, right? (You’d be the first to think it isn’t . . . We talked with Poppy and she agreed with us.) – They both looked at him attentively, waiting for a final verdict from him.

He was about to open his mouth to tell them his plan, but he hesitated. Vee knew everyone, their personalities, their secrets. And knew that the theater twins were notorious for not doing well keeping secrets. If he told them, they and whoever wanted to would end up at Vee’s with a door closed shut in front of them. He loved gossip, but this was too serious. — Oh! Hm, yeah, just very strange. Anyways, I’m feeling sooo tired . . .

Razzle and Dazzle slumped their shoulders and looked at each other, doing their little twin telepathy that he always got freaked out by before looking at him. As Razzle opened his mouth in hesitation, Dazzle hid his face partially behind his brother. — Yes, tired! Hehe. Better let you rest, see you tomorrow then! (We hope you recover from your . . . Hm. Tiredness. Goodbye Glisten.) – They shut the door behind them, not without Razzle sneaking in a last look before closing it completely.

— Goodness, they’re totally onto me . . . – He could only put his palms against the door and slump on the floor, feeling the weight of his underhanded tactics on his eyes and subsequently closing them. This was all so easy to him before, even fun, and he relished in weaving the web of social interactions either to his favor or to entertain himself. Now only selectively hiding his intentions caused a drag in his humor. Caused him to want to throw a brick at his reflection on the metal crashcart in front of him. Maybe he should finally stick to what the on-site psychiatrist told him and try to write in a journal about all of this. Again.

He turned off the lightswitch and walked slowly to the bed, faceplanting into it and hugging a pillow to try and sleep. He didn’t even care if the pillowcase wasn’t satin or if it was washed in the last 3 months. He was so tired.

3 seconds in, three knocks at the door.

— Oh. My God. – He could just tie the twins’ necks like a cute little bow right about now. He hastily put on his slippers and turned on the lightswitch. — Be oh so patient, the both of you. We may speak later, please-

— I did NOT think the infection was bad enough for you to be reflecting double! – Looey’s stupid clown smile didn’t ever amuse him. They just stood there in silence until Looey fiddled with his collar, looking to the side and sucking in a breath. — That bad, huh? Womp womp . . .

Glisten just let him come into the room silently, locking the door behind him before seeing something fly towards him. Instinctively he covered his face, only to notice it was a Limited Edition Vee-Juice, Electrifying Pineapple Flavor™, now crumpled after hitting the floor. — . . . Ah. It was- It was your bribe. I forgot to say “Hey Glisten! Catch!” – Looey looked like he positively wanted to lay in a bed of nails right there and then. Seeing as he already humiliated himself enough, he just took the juicebox and put it on an empty space on the bookshelf, choosing to not tell him that he liked the Lemonade Flavor more.

— Just tell me what you want, Looey.

. . .

One knock.

It was the third time in the last 9 hours he requested a meal, and Shrimpo was getting tired of it. — What the hell . . . How much can you eat? You think we have unlimited food or something? Jesus. – He promptly got up from the wooden chair, stretching his legs and throwing his newspaper and pencil to one side, the Sudoku on the back almost done. He dragged his feet to the kitchen, pulling out of one of the fridges some boiled eggs and a piece of hot dog bread. He noticed his own reflection in the fridge, dark circles under his eyes, chewed lower lip and a permanent and equally unintentional frown.

— Man, you look like carp right now, haha!

He whirred around, eyes wide and breathing heavily, but he- but no one was there. Hasn’t been in a long time. He kept on peeling the eggs and cutting them in quarters, becoming increasingly agitated, eyes hurting from the lack of sleep. — Motherfucker, I can’t wait for this shift to be over. My ass is cramping from having it stuck to that fuckass chair.

Walking back to Boxten’s room, he got his brass knuckles ready, brutish sausage fingers fitting perfectly in the rings. He still couldn’t believe they let him keep this contraband, but he supposed that it added to his “bully” persona. He didn’t bother knocking this time, he knew that Goob had a very keen ear. Opening the door, he took care of not turning the light on and prepared himself, but he still winced at the sight: matted fur stained black, caked-up ichor eye boogers from crying in his sleep or because of previous waves of pain, and a gashing wound on his right shoulder- wait. Where was it?

“thank you Shrimpo

i was still

very hungry”

He grunted in response, leaving the plate on a wooden crate that served as a barrier between them and simultaneously a bedside table. He saw from the wall he was leaning into how the craft practically scarfed the food down, even licking his claws and picking up the crumbs. — Goddamn, you’re a bottomless well. – Goob looked apologetic for a single second before starting to lick the yolk out of the plate, wiping his mouth on his own fur. He could only stare at where his wounds were- Or the lack of thereof.

— Weren’t you hurt? – He pointed directly at his shoulder, the tattered remains of his light blue shirt surrounding the place in a bitemark shape. The craft just shrugged as he finished the plate and handed it over to Shrimpo, stretching his arms to do so. He flinched, readying his fists in front of him. Goob realized his mistake and did various arm wails, ultimately sighing and leaving it on the sidetable and picking up the magna doodle.

“sorry :(

i forget”

Shrimpo’s posture relaxed as he looked up to the ceiling and groaned, shaking his body to shake off the adrenaline spike. His heart was beating too much for too long. He sweated cold and his fists trembled. It was harder to breathe now. — Don’t fucking do that again, you freak. You hear me!? I DON’T WANT TO USE THESE! – He didn’t even notice when Goob’s claws almost reached his face, but he heard the sickening crunch and whimper that came from him. Adjusting his eyes to the dark, he saw the glowing red eyes hold in dark tears as his fangs were bone-deep in his arm. He took a moment to realize what happened and why before scrambling outside, not closing the door. — Shit! Why did you do that!? Fucking dumbass, stay there!

While he rushed to a room close to the elevator, Goob’s curiosity and sudden hunger won over the throbbing pain, making him wander to the kitchen. He opened a large, commercial deep freezer and tore open a package of frozen, raw patties, crunching on them. He found the cold particularly soothing to his gums before realizing the shrimp was looking at him, bordering between mad and stupefied. He walked in big stomps over to him, and as Goob was making himself smaller, he crouched down and yanked his arm from him, opening a first-aid Gardenview Healthkit™ and practically drowning the bite in iodine. He wiped over it with a cotton ball before looking and-

— It’s . . . How? – Shrimpo alternated between staring at his already scabbed-over bite and Goob’s face, who was equally clueless. After choosing to bandage him up anyways, he gruntled and rummaged through the bottom of the freezer, snickering triumphantly and pulling out a can of beer. He was about to slam the door closed until- a pair of eyes. Not murderous, but scared. He closed it, gently, and sat by his side, about a meter away from him, manspreading as he cracked the beer open and took a swing. — You’re just too fucking weird. And don’t tell the others about this, they’re too much of a tight-asses. Truce?

Goob stared at the hand offering a bribe, or perhaps a deal. He licked his lips and nodded enthusiastically before slowly stretching a hand towards the can, grabbing it and taking one, two, three-

— Hey- That’s enough asshole! It’s my beer, now give it back! – Shrimpo, fearlessly or foolishly snatched it from his hands and drank the rest, maintaining eye contact until almost everything was gone. The craft snickered, coughing up only droplets of ichor now, smiling wide with all his sharp teeth in display. They both walked silently back to Boxten’s, after engaging in whatever conversation they could, thinking they were out of the public’s eye before hearing a throat being cleared behind them.

— You know, you would be pretty dumb to think you could rush to the infirmary on your shift without us suspecting anything. – Glisten crossed his arms in front of him and flashed Shrimpo his signature Smug Look, fistbumping Looey before noticing that Goob was out of his room. His expression instantly softened into a small smile, crinkling his eyes and rubbing an imaginary smudge out of the edge of his mirror before going back to the matter at hand. Goob could only stare at him, breath hitching and beaming. If he had a tail, it would wag wildly.

Shrimpo frowned and put the leftover beer in his chair before facing them both, hands in his pockets. — So much for not telling anyone. What? Should I be scared of a condom and a sissy tattling on me? – He snickered and went to turn around in order to get Goob back inside, only to be met with claws resting on his shoulder and the craft frowning at him. He growled, picked him up and turned him around again to face the newcomers. The shrimp could only shudder and swallow his bravery.

— Actually, you should be worried that the much meaner sissy out of you and me goes crying to Teagan and tells her aaall about your hidden beer stash while she’s been sharing her champagne with you, or how you were sooo mean to me. – With each word, Shrimpo realized more and more that he was at a huge disadvantage. This time, Looey joined in on the blackmailing, bending his knees until he was at his height. Which took quite a bit of bending. — Ah! And I bet Blot would be thrilled to hear how Goob not only hurt himself under your supervision, but also escaped containment. How many days of bathroom duty is that?

Shrimpo was officially cornered on all sides, feeling how Goob huffed in agreement behind him. He finally sighed, took from the chair the can and drank the rest of the beer inside, signaling to Goob to cover his ears before crushing the can with one hand. — Fuck, I don’t want to clean the piss stains out of the urinals again . . .So? What now?

— We need to talk to Goob. No interruptions, alone. And to sweeten the deal . . . – Looey tossed something towards Shrimpo and he catched without even looking. The mirror rolled his eyes when Looey pointed out Shrimpo’s talent with his thumb.

When he inspected it, he grinned at the full pack of Malboro’s and took his newspaper and pencil with him before walking to the side of the elevator. — Hell, you can come by anytime. You have 10 minutes. Pleasure doing business with you.

Glisten and Looey nodded to each other and ushered Goob inside before locking the door. They were going to be ready for the interview.

Chapter Text

He fiddled with the edge of his turtleneck collar, then the edge of his “Killer Klowns from Outer Space” t-shirt layered over it, then the drawstrings from his sweatpants. — The rest are talking about how dangerous having Goob here is, and I can’t blame them for thinking so, but they want to leave him on the lower floors again, or kill him- or worse, leave him in the lobby for the military to snatch up.

Glisten could only bounce one leg and cross the other over it, messing with the exposed shards on that one side of his face, looking at the ibuprofen on his bedside table. No matter how he looked at it, this was possibly the worst-case scenario.

— Hey, you okay there-

— YES! Yes, my oh so dear friend! I’m just thinking about Goob’s abdomen full of machine gun bullets, that's all!! – The bouncing got worse until he couldn’t stand it any longer and started pacing the room, back and forth. Breathing in and out, he tried to at least keep his face relaxed, god knows he was frowning too much lately and the wrinkles would catch up to him. — Think about it, you absolute buffoon. No one wants to kill him, no one could kill him. But no one wants him to be a threat again in the lower floors either! So the only logical conclusion would be to send him on his merry way to be massacred. And you know why? Because that’s what I would do! But I don’t want him to-

Looey rolled his eyes before practically inhaling what was left of his own juice box, not without coughing juice into his hand out of carelessness, and threw it in the trash. He placed his other hand on his shoulder to stop his panicked rambling, and as Glisten turned around, his eyes were already glassy and his breathing raggedy. — Sorry dude, I didn’t come here just to scare you. – He motioned towards the bean bags on the ground, guiding him with a hand on his back to them. The mirror sat carefully, the dust still rising from out the depths of the styrofoam beads. But he only cared about controlling his breathing and kneading the cotton of his pajama pants, and of course what Looey had to say.

— I know Blot’s gonna be part of the council. I had to find out on my own, he didn’t tell Yatta or me, but it was pretty obvious. And he was talking about it with Teagan-

— Teagan!?

Panicked, Looey shushed him and perked one ear up. After listening for a moment, he sighed. — Don’t be so loud, yeesh. So we can assume that both of them will be part of the council, but the council must be made out of three people.

Glisten almost talked, but chose to suck in a breath instead. Looey definitely noticed and looked at him inquisitively, giving him the ground to talk. Could he really trust in him? — . . . Am I the only one you talked with about this?

— What? No, of course not. I told Yatta first.

— YATTA-

Looey quickly covered his mouth until Glisten slapped it away, grossed out after having the same hand covered in spat out orange juice he saw earlier on his mouth. — Dude, shut up! You don’t know who might be listening in.

Glisten got up and snatched a towel from a low cabinet, wetting it with medical-grade alcohol and rubbing at his mirror until he felt sufficiently clean and oddly, more relaxed. He heard a huff of annoyance, but he could care less. While he tossed the towel to a laundry basket, he decided Looey was at least honest. — I . . . I think Vee is the third member. But it’s highly unlikely.

— Glisten- That’s better than nothing! Okay, so, we come up with a plan and then tell Goob right after.

While the clown rambled on and brainstormed, he stayed quiet again, weighing the options before speaking up. — I think not. We need to have a chat with each of the judges first. You will talk with Blot, maybe ambush him with Yatta, too. I will talk to Teagan, she’ll get on my side.

— Uhm . . . What about Vee?

He sucked in a breath and bit his index finger’s nail, a nasty habit from the first years of Gardenview. What would guarantee that Vee would even let him in? If they didn’t convince her, it would be all for nothing and Goob could-

— Shit. – Deep in his thoughts, he accidentally snapped the acrylic nail out of his nailbed. After seeing it clatter to the ground, he opened and closed his fists, willing the pain to go away. — God, that’s awful. I just- I’ll talk with her too. Then we regroup and somehow convince Shrimpo to let us talk with Goob.

Looey paused a moment before flashing a smile too conniving for a dumb clown. Going over where Glisten was in strides, he held his hand up for a high five. — It’s a plan, then!

Glisten chose to indulge him this time and didn’t leave him hanging there. He hoped some of his resolve would rub off on him.

. . .

Three knocks. Everyone stilled. When Shrimpo popped his head in, the three of them jumped at the sound, Goob more so than the others

— Hey, your 10 minutes are up. Get the fuck out of here before the rest wakes up, you freaks.

After a collective sigh of relief, the balloon audibly groaned under his breath and got up from his seat, shooting an apologetic look towards the craft. He patted him on the shoulder as reassurance, if only grimacing in pity and aversion a little after feeling the tangled fur on his back. Though, after glancing at Glisten holding Goob’s paw with both hands, he figured the mirror wouldn’t care.

— Don’t worry about a thing, Goob. You’re still our sweet, lovable craft, with or without memories, changed or not. – His heart pumped ichor into his body painfully at seeing the dread climbing up Goob’s face. He held in a sob as his hand trembled, choosing to instead bring Glisten’s hands to his forehead and nuzzle in them.

Glisten swallowed the nervousness, not out of fear but out of . . . something, blossoming in his chest. Sure, his fur was a little messy, but still so soft in his hands, so warm. How could he help himself from holding his face with one hand? Or even from scratching his nails against his scalp and looking into his fluttering eyes and-

This time the knocks were slightly louder, more urgent. There’s at least two hours more until the shift change, so what happened?

— You need to book it, now! I can already hear asswipe and Scraps going up the stairs.

Goob heard them too, a murmur that was progressively clearer, definitely not a friendly conversation. He actually smiled, it was a small smile, at the prospect of seeing his sister again, his eyes glinting towards the sound. The mirror retracted his hands from his face, a little too fast, cursing beneath his breath.

— We need to bounce. Good luck, Gooby. – He shot him a last glance and saw how the craft looked at his face unabashedly, before he realized how exactly he’d called him.

They had no time for anything else and Looey grabbed his shoulders, pushing him towards the exit. Shrimpo opened the door, nodded to both of them and locked it behind them, hooking the bundle of keys back into his carabiner and wiping his nose, doing his best to look as un-busy as possible. Glisten could already see them entering the lounge, and thinking on his feet he led them both to the kitchen, walking calmly and willing the blush from his face to go away. — Don’t look behind you Looey, they’re behind us. We bumped into each other and we’re talking about how it’s messed up to lock up Goob in Boxten’s room.

He saw how Looey tensed up and how he almost looked behind his shoulder, but he managed to slap his arm to get him to pay attention. — Stop freaking out, just- just chillax. At the count of three you need to give a nasty look to Shrimpo, then leave the rest to me.

— Why Shrimpo?

— Oh my goodness Looey, just do it! One . . . Two . . . Three.

Looey did it too fast, his nose scrunching up and his brows furrowing into bulging eyes, towards an honest to god bewildered Shrimpo. It was better than nothing, and after sighing profoundly he looked at Shrimpo too. As he heard Shrimpo exclaiming a proper “The fuck you looking at?” he feigned surprise when Scraps and Blot caught his eye. He turned around and crossed his arms, poking Looey on the shoulder to do so too. The balloon really wasn’t made for acting, as he copied Glisten instead of acting normal for once.

Scraps narrowed her pupils and looked between the two of them, suspecting something happened but not exactly what. Why were they still in their pajamas? And walking together so early? She suppressed the urge to swish her tail, not having the advantage of having a dress on to conceal it.

— .attaY htiw erew uoy thguoht I ?ereh gniod uoy era tahW !yeooL

Looey avoided his gaze and looked towards Scraps, only for her to meet his gaze. He chose to look at the very interesting and speckless carpet instead, courtesy of Tisha. — Ah! You see, uhm, Teagan checked my arm earlier and Glisten was still in the infirmary, so I thought to chat a little and time passed by hella fast-

— ?tahw roF ?"tahC"

This time, Glisten intervened, stepping closer to Blot and putting his hands on his hips, looking him up and down and not hiding the disdain filling his face. — Chatting because it’s messed up that we can’t even visit Goob. We wanted to bring him at least something to do there, but apparently giving him a few colored pencils would be too dangerous.

Blot massaged his forehead, overstretching it before the “ink” went back to its rightful place. He sighed and wiped his gloves into his black quick-dry shirt layered under a striped black and red sweater. —.suoregnad ,yltnatropmi erom dna elbatsnu s'eh ,yeooL htiw siht tuoba deklat ydaerla I

— No he’s not. – Scraps hissed between her teeth, snarling hand showing him her fangs. — If anything, YOU’RE making it worse-

— !yakO – He stepped in front of her and looked down, meeting her pinprick pupils. — .ereh pu elbbeP gnivah naht retteb on s'ti ,ti pleh t'nac eh fI ?elpoep gnitruh revo ytliug sleef eh fi erac I od tahW !flesmih lortnoc t'nac eH ?retteb si dnuora nur mih gnittel kniht llits uoy tub erofeb noitasrevnoc siht dah ev'eW – He looked right at Glisten, or more than him, looking at the rainbow bandage on his neck and the gauze from his back wrapping around his exposed shoulder. — .gniod fo elbapac s'eh tahw was ew dnA

The mirror shrunk in himself, grimacing and hiding the bandage with his palm, tidying up his shirt to cover himself up more. He . . . had a point. They really didn’t have a way to control how he reacted to sound, light. No one even knew why he freaked out before coming here. Scraps, however, still didn’t back down. — Give him a chance! He can reason, and communicate, he’s not a mindless beast goddamnit! – She was baring her teeth now, gesturing wildly, her expression almost pleading. Blot shut that down, quickly.

— .mih moorg dna ehtab uoy tel ot enoemos gnillik neve ro gnitruh mih fo ksir eht nur ot esoohc tub ,gniteem eht litnu htlif nwo sih ni gnitaniram mih evael dluoc I sa tsuJ .oot dneirf ruo saw eh tub ,enoyreve rof reisae sgniht ekam ot eybdoog mih dib dna rotavele eht pu mih nworht tsuj evah dluoc eW .ecnahc a mih gnivig era eW – He walked away, uncaring if she followed suit or not. — .dnim ym egnahc I erofeb ti pord dna yrruh retteb uoy os ,hguoht won thgir sthguoht dnoces gnivah m'I

Hearing this, she realized she had no other choice but to swallow her pride, her outrage. For her brother's sake. Tail between her legs and shoulders down, she walked behind him, clenching her fists and digging her nails into her handbeans, breathing through her nose as if to calm herself.

— Blot, that’s inhumane! Why are you acting like-

— Looey. – She sucked in a breath and shot him a glance, eyes glazed over, a tear already escaping her. She wiped her eyes with her forearm quickly and shook her head. — Just . . . Shut up. Not now. Please.

They stared at them until they entered Boxten’s room, seeing how Shrimpo handed Blot the keys. Glisten saw how Looey still kept staring towards their direction, longing, worried. It was his turn to comfort him now, and he placed a hand on his shoulder. He waited for him to spill everything at once, like he did before. But very little came out.

— . . . He’s never been like this. Why . . . ?

He opened and closed his mouth many times, but nothing came out. He settled on slicking his ears back before patting Glisten’s hand, sucking in a breath. — I need to- I need to catch up on sleep. You too, your eyebags are gnarly.

The mirror huffed a humorless laugh, taking his hand off his shoulder. Right now he didn’t care if he had any or not, he was extremely tired too. — We regroup in my room, then. Later, Looey.

As they both went their separate ways, Glisten finally went back to his room, welcoming the tasteful, albeit a bit old fashioned, pink walls and canopy bed. This time, there was nothing stopping him from getting sleep, at least he thought so as he flopped onto his bed and hugged his pillow.

— Fuck.

But the familiar lull of the dream realm never flooded his mind. Instead, he found himself tossing and turning, trying everything to get a wink of sleep before straightening up, defeated.

He couldn’t sleep without at least having an idea for what to do next. He could even kill two birds in one stone and write a dumb journal, too. He reached into the drawer of his tiny library and pulled out a hardcover, pink with gold stars, A5 ringed journal along with a fluffy white pen and sat in his loveseat, clicking the pen and beginning to write.

“September 12th, 2002.

Dear diary”

— God, this is so stupid.