Chapter Text
You couldn’t remember the void or the moment Ink and Dream found you. In fact, you couldn’t remember much at all. Not your past, not your universe, and certainly not the moment it had ceased to exist.
You only recalled the gentle warmth of Dream’s aura waking you, and the embers of a foreign feeding—as if you had lost something dear.
The guardian of positivity had rescued you from the void into a universe of his own: a quaint yellow cottage covered in thick layers of moss and lichen, surrounded by messy flower gardens and ponds encircled by grand willow trees.
He had been nothing but sweet, providing you with fresh baked bread, rich stews, and comfortable clothes. For days he stayed pressed at your side, watching copious amounts of television in his sunny yellow living room and reading in his garden.
But even as time passed, you couldn’t recall a family… or friends… or the AU you came from. Only your name, and a bunch of random shit you’d probably picked up over the course of your life—how to write, how to speak, the names of flowers, a few cooking recipes… none of which answered how you had ended up there.
It wasn’t exactly a great start to life — well, the life you remembered — but just sitting near Dream sent a fuzzy feeling through your body, as if he emanated comfort itself.
Plus the stories he told you were riveting: of underground civilizations of monsters longing to break free, of a multiverse of worlds, each different from the next…
…And of human mages. Those who locked the monsters underground, those that saved them, and the souls that made it all possible.
Despite all the determination packed in human souls, most humans lack magic. Sure, human souls are powerful, but for most, externalizing the nature of their soul is nigh impossible. Impossible unless one of two things is true:
The first is rather counter-intuitive: some human mages are not human at all, but half monster, and magic is therefore simply their nature.
But unless your soul was suddenly going to flip upside down and turn white around the edges, that seemed highly unlikely for you.
Which left the second option, one that is far more rare in a multiverse where monsters are often locked under mountains: a human spends enough time growing up around monsters that magic becomes their nature. They can push their abilities to new heights through perseverance, change the world around them to deliver justice, or heal the masses through kindness alone.
At least, that’s what Dream had read to you, all those years ago, before promptly siccing you on his unconscious friend.
Nights in Dream’s realm seemed caught in perpetual twilight, a faint band of orange visible through the trees in the west, which would eventually shift over to the east, all without any moon rising at all. It was peculiar, but let Dream read outside no matter how late it was.
You were out in the garden, Dream murmuring facts about magic at your side, when you heard the distinctive splatter of Ink’s portals. The skeleton rose out of a pool of ink on the ground, clothes littered with cuts and scarf caked with dirt and dust. The giant paintbrush on his back swung like a pendulum, as if he hadn’t strapped it down correctly.
Despite looking like a raccoon that had just finished dumpster diving, he grinned wildly. “Heya.”
Honestly, you knew precious little about Dream and Ink. They had described themselves as protectors of the multiverse who fought against anyone who threatened it. While you found it hard to believe Dream would fight anyone, you could easily picture Ink doing some damage with his paintbrush.
Not to mention, Ink had the attitude for it, if the endless pranks he had already played on you said anything about his tendency to toy with others. When he’d first stopped by the cottage, he’d convinced you that humans could use magic to fly—something you’d naturally decided to try by jumping off the roof. He’d caught you, an easygoing smile stretching across his face at your annoyance. But he meant well—you hoped—so you didn’t hold a grudge.
“Greetings, Ink! Did your mission go well?” Dream placed the encyclopedia neatly in his lap. You loved how he spoke — as if he were living in a time long passed.
Ink shortcutted over so he was in front of you, crouching on top of his paintbrush like a cat. (To this day, you had no idea how Ink managed to balance so easily on broomie. If he weren’t an outcode, you’d swear he came from an acrobatics themed AU.)
“Yeah! Well, the whole place was decimated by the time we got there. Murder trio were just, like, hanging out and gathering a ton of baked goods from Muffet’s! You should have SEEN Horror’s expression when he noticed them start disappearing.” He reached into a satchel on his belt and tossed you and Dream each a donut.
“Aww thank you.” Dream bit into it, closing his eye sockets contently before he burst into a coughing fit, head shooting back up to stare at Ink in shock. “You were seriously playing pranks on them.”
Ink shrugged.
“This whole time?!”
“Why not? Blue had the civilians handled.”
Dream had mentioned the third member of their team a handful of times already. Supposedly he was from a universe where people’s personalities were swapped, compared to what he had called the ‘original universe’. But his attempts to dive deeper into the mechanisms of the multiverse — resets, timelines, codes — made you feel like you’d put your already overloaded brain through a blender.
“Is he still there?” Dream asked.
Ink grimaced. “He got a little roughed up.” A second portal appeared at his side, which spat out an unconscious skeleton. He wore a silver set of armour delicately carved with depictions of stars and galaxies. The breastplate was cracked down the middle, right through a carving of the sun. Blood seeped out from between the pieces of metal.
Dream let out a terrified wail and rushed to Blue’s side, pulling him into his arms. “Why didn’t you lead with that, Ink!” he snapped. His arms trembled as he frantically tugged the armour off his friend.
You grabbed hold of the breastplate, helping Dream to lift it from his chest. A long slash stretched from Blue’s neck to his sternum, the edges straight. The kind of clean cut you’d expect from a sword, maybe? Or a knife.
Ink leapt down from his paintbrush, rubbing the back of his skull. “He was conscious when I brought him to the Doodlesphere.”
Dream leaned close, looking over the cut, before sitting up. “You are lucky his wounds are not deep,” he sighed in what you imagined was a mix of both relief and exasperation.
Unfortunately for you, Dream’s relief came under the assumption that you could do healing magic. Which, after a quick crash course—mostly affirmations of ‘think kind thoughts’ and ‘you can do it!’—left you kneeling at Blue’s side with your hands marinating in his blood.
You probably should have argued that using magic with zero training was a completely insane idea, but you weren’t a completely sane person at the time (And you suppose, all things considered, you still weren’t).
Ink slinked to your other side like a dejected dog. “What’s she supposed to do without a green soul?” He whispered. Loudly .
Dream dragged a hand down his face and groaned. “For stars’ sake, Ink,” he said. He nudged you in the side. “It is just a matter of intent. Your soul is strong enough, I promise.”
Your hands shook as both skeletons watched you intently. This was too much pressure. How did Dream know your soul was strong? How would someone even begin to measure such a thing? Beads of sweat ran down your temple as your thoughts raced.
Maybe this would be easier if you couldn’t see them. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to focus on your intentions. You wanted to heal Blue, which would be an act of kindness.
Over the last few days, you had only been surrounded by kindness (despite Ink’s pranks). Giving some of that back would only be appropriate. Then, perhaps, you would prove useful to Dream. You tried to hold that desire in your mind. Surely then, you could summon the magic Dream believed you possessed.
Minutes stretched out agonizingly, your palms heating up the longer they stayed in Blue’s blood. You imagined it stopping, reversing, the bone sealing back up. Anything that might trigger magic. But you didn’t feel any different.
“I don’t think I can,” you said, opening your eyes. The weight of your failure made your chest tight. “I’m sorry.”
Dream’s eyelights wobbled. “That’s…” He placed a hand on his chest, breathing deeply. “Please don’t fret. We will just do it the old fashioned way!” He smiled, as bright as ever, but something in the way the corners of his eye sockets crinkled made him seem almost… perplexed.
After everything Dream had done for you over the last few days, you couldn’t pay him back. No, instead you had just squandered minutes of precious time on the absurd assumption that you could somehow do magic. If you’d shut him down from the start, then maybe they could have gotten a real doctor, and Blue’s blood wouldn’t be drying up on your fingers.
Dream made a strangled cry and his hands flew to his mouth, as if he’d said something terrible. “Oh, no, please don’t feel sad. I have gauze in the house. And we can always get blood or monster candy or anything else we need.”
“But—”
“Shh.” Dream brought his finger to your lips. “It will be alright, dear. Blue has seen worse and recovered.”
Dream’s words made you feel fuzzy inside, like always. But his eyelights, wobbling faintly despite that bright smile, made you feel such… sorrow. How could he force a smile, when he was so obviously scared?
He brushed his hand down your cheek. “He only needs our love and care for a little while, that is all.”
Love.
(LOVE?)
The effect of his words was instant and overwhelming.
A tide of blurry memories washed through you. The familiar sight of flowers growing on a moonlit terrace. The warmth of someone’s embrace. The scent of chocolate brownies. The sound of deep laughter. The sweet taste of cinnamon buns from… somewhere you shouldn’t have gotten them from, you thought. A rush of energy from a world you are in tune with, and the pulse of a soul resonating with your own. An intent you had forgotten, something beyond mere kindness.
Pink sparks fizzled out from your fingers and danced along Blue’s bones towards his wound. You lunged forward to grab the sparks only for your hands to land directly on the cut. More sparks shot out of your palms and your elbows locked up. Blood began to pool within the wound, smooth bone closing over it soon after. The sparks dissipated, leaving only a thin scar on Blue’s sternum.
Dizziness washed over you. You teetered backwards. Dream jumped behind you, catching you in his arms. He hoisted you into the air and hugged you tightly. “You did it!”
“I did!” You buried your face in the top of his cape, caught in a fit of stunned laughter.
Blue’s sockets flew open and he sat up, wincing. “Ouch… Ink, you there?” His eyelights were fuzzy and unfocused, and his words came out in a barely audible slur.
Ink clambered over you and Dream, leaning close to Blue’s face. “Heya Bluey! Feeling better?”
Blue shoved Ink backwards, but there was playfulness in the action. “Yeah, I feel excellent… but what happened? Everything’s a blur…”
Dream glared at Ink. “He only feels better because her healing magic worked!”
Ink rolled onto his stomach, kicking his feet. “Whose healing magic?”
“Ugh, me?” You offered.
Ink blinked at you a few times, like he’d forgotten you were there. “Oh yeah! So it actually works. That’ll be useful. Especially for Blue, he’s always getting roughed up. A real soldier type character, you know?”
(Thinking back on it, something about the way he called Blue a character made your gut twist up.)
“I wouldn’t get roughed up if someone didn’t feel like provoking our enemies,” Blue argued. While his words were annoyed, his voice carried no real bite. Probably because he’d finally spotted the pile of shattered armour a few yards away.
“They’re pissy no matter what. Might as well have fun with it!” Ink stuck out his tongue. You startled. He had a tongue? Did the others have one as well? You’d assumed they were just like regular skeletons. Then again, they were monsters.
Blue rolled his eyes, then turned to you. “Ah, I’ve forgotten my manners. Thank you so much, human!” His voice caught on the last word and he doubled back. “Forgive me, I don’t know your actual name, I shouldn’t just call you ‘human’!” He reached out to grab both of your hands in his surprisingly large gloves.
You whispered your name and he repeated it to himself. “A good name! Which AU are you from?”
Ah. You wrung your hands together, and an awkward chuckle caught in your throat. “I’m honestly not sure. It was destroyed, we think.”
Blue titled his head to the side. “Did you just arrive? Usually Dream is much faster at finding people a home in cases like this…”
“Oh, just a few days ago.”
When you looked back at Dream, a golden flush crossed his face. “I was working on it. I just became a tad distracted!”
“By what? Books?” Ink teased.
“You can’t even remember what happened to you one second ago, Ink!” Dream quipped back. Ink laughed and tossed an arm around his shoulders, winking at you when Dream wasn’t looking.
You nervously played with the ends of your hair. “I’m really okay waiting.”
“—No!” Dream interjected. He gazed out over the garden, overgrown with all manner of flowers and trees. “I shouldn’t have put it off for so long. This realm is unsuitable for mortals.”
“Perhaps, Blue, she could come stay for a time in Underswap while you visit your brother. If she’s to be our healer, a pacifist AU would be ideal.” Dream’s voice grew quiet. “Somewhere my brother won’t take notice of her.”
Blue wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Of course! I’d love to have her over.”
Gratefulness bloomed in your chest, but it was quickly overrun by a flood of uneasiness. “Your brother?”
“Nightmare! He’s the worst. Always messes up what the Creators make, all so he can have more negativity and power,” Ink answered. “He and his gang are our number one enemies!”
“I wouldn’t call them enemies!” Dream protested. “We just… don’t see eye to eye right now. He was corrupted, a long time ago.” His eyelights looked faraway. “But I’m so close to saving him.”
Ink pat him on the back. “Hey, at least we can save ourselves now,” he said, looking you up and down. “Thanks to…” A rainbow flush crossed his face, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, what was your name again?”
You chuckled. “___.”
Ink shot finger guns at you and pulled a marker out from his bag, adding your name to the list of notes on the inside of his scarf. It made you feel a bit better, knowing you weren’t the only one struggling with your memory.
Dream’s phalanges intertwined with your own, and he pulled you to your feet. “I’m glad to have you on our team.”
***
And you had been equally glad, even when Dream had to move you from universe to universe, evading his brother and his mysterious gang of villains. Even though the longest you’d ever stayed in one place for the last ten years was six months in Underswap. Even though the only time Dream seemed to show up lately was to shuffle you to the next universe. You were glad to help your only long lasting friends save the multiverse.
Even if you could only afford a tiny one room apartment with tattered walls and a constantly moldy bathroom. At least you had your air mattress and a mostly working stove. It worked out fine. Sure, the power went out at least 15 times a week and you were drinking cold tea for breakfast again. But any day now, Dream would contact you, and you’d go on an adventure together. He gave you his word.
As you swallowed another gulp of cold green tea, a beep went off from your bedside.
You rushed over to your phone plugged into the wall. Sure enough, Dream’s name glowed on the screen.
I’m so sorry. Things aren’t looking good.
I promise I’ll visit you soon.
And I’ll bring Ink too!
The lingering taste of tea suddenly seemed more bitter than refreshing.
Yeah, you were going to need to run that one off.
Luckily, Ebott city in this universe had an extensive floating tram system to take you right to “Big Park” (name courtesy of Asgore himself). Four kilometers of wilderness dotted with futuristic art sculptures, hover skateboard parks, and the occasional nice cream vendor.
You would usually set up your own stand to help athletes with minor injuries for a small fee, especially when there was a sporting event. It didn’t pay much, but without an ID or a proper education, any job you could pick up was a blessing.
The crisp smell of pines invaded your senses as you jogged deep into the park. The air shook in the heat, and the buzz of cicadas drowned out the distant hum of cars. This area was massively underdeveloped compared to the rest of Big Park. You could spend hours there and never run into anyone else. It was perfect for clearing your head.
The pines seemed to stretch upward, their bases growing thicker as you delved deeper into the woods. Supposedly in winter, it looked just like Snowdin there, though you doubted you’d be permitted to stay long enough to find out. Your mood soured at the thought. You ran faster, kicking up rocks in your wake.
Really, could Dream be that busy? Sure, he sometimes visited you in your dreams, but that was hardly the same as being here . And after all this time, did it really matter if you “stayed secret” from his brother? With how often the Star Sanses lamented Nightmare’s power, you found it extremely unlikely he hadn’t noticed his enemies’ wounds miraculously disappearing by now. He must have known someone was helping them out.
You ran until a stitch developed in your side and you keeled over, panting. Part of you wanted to scream out your frustrations, but last time you did that Dogamy and Dogaressa ran in on you, and you were not keen to repeat that embarrassment.
You unscrewed the lid of your water bottle and took a long drink, listening to the sounds of the forest around you. Birds chirping, pine needles rusting against each other in the autumn breeze, frogs croaking in a nearby pond, bushes rusting, and the sharp hiss of a person in pain.
Sharp hiss?
Of a person?
The rustling in the bushes increased with each moment, and the hissing turned to swearing as someone scrambled on the forest floor. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
You glanced around to see if any park rangers were nearby. Usually they didn't bother patrolling this region of Big Park.
Going off-trail in the woods is never a good idea. You knew you should turn around and look for a park ranger. You knew that. However, as you turned to leave, the swearing abruptly cut off into a garbled whimper.
Something tugged at your chest. Not for the first time, you cursed that you hadn’t been born with a patience soul instead. You couldn’t just leave whoever was there. Not when they were practically crying in pain.
Tentatively, you stepped off the trail, pushing branches aside as you followed the sound.
The leaves parted into a small clearing and your eyes met the empty black sockets of a skeleton. He was sprawled in the dirt, barely holding himself up against a rotting tree trunk. His open blue hoodie was littered with cuts, and blood soaked through his black turtleneck, dripping close to a strange glowing target in the centre of his chest. He held a bundle of leaves against his clavicle, obviously trying to slow the bleeding.
You felt the familiar soft tug on your soul from a CHECK. His sockets narrowed, and black liquid gushed out of them, running down his face.
You stepped forward, reaching out a hand to him. “Hel-” Before you could greet him, a knife blipped into existence in his hand, and he lunged at you. Adrenaline ripped through your body and you leapt back. The knife narrowly missed your face.
“Heh. Fast. But not nearly fast enough.” He scrambled up to pursue you, but his legs crumbled and he fell to his knees, hands flying to his chest. The knife fell to his side and disappeared once more.
Once you looked closer, you realized the collar of his hoodie was a dull yellow, and his sneakers were just… normal navy blue sneakers. No implants to connect to a hoverboard. You risked taking one step forward to scrutinise his outfit more carefully. No visible tech on his person, either. It could almost pass for retro, if you didn’t know better. The Sans of this AU would sooner die than travel without his board. It was faster to travel that way, required less work. Probably saved him in a few genocide routes.
So unless the creator of this AU felt like putting in two versions of the same skeleton brother, that meant…
“You’re not from this universe.” You spoke softly, because on the off-chance you were wrong you were going to sound like you’d lost your mind.
Even though he lacked eyelights, you got the feeling he was looking you over. Studying you. Determining what your angle is. After a moment, his shoulders relaxed, and you swear his grin looked less manic. “Huh. How about that? You broke, or not from around here?” He asked. His voice was deep, like the purr of the hover trams passing your apartment window at night, but it carried a playfulness to it as well — a playfulness that could turn deadly any moment.
“Why not both?” You asked. Yeah, you should probably high tail it to the authorities, not chat up the guy in the woods who just threatened you with a knife. But stars be damned, you were bored . Bored and terribly lonely. In pacifist AUs like this, whose stories are over, every day was just cute slice of life antics for the people that actually belong there. But by the time you finally began to grasped the culture of each AU Dream brings you to, you were whisked off to another.
In ten years, you had only met one person outside of the Star Sanses who travels to other universes. Could you really be blamed if you wanted to talk to someone like that?
Risks be damned, you knelt down, getting on his level. “I’m a healer. Keep your weapon away and maybe we can strike a deal.” You swept your hand in the direction of his wound.
His grin widened, and he chuckled lowly. “I’ve got no better options.” He removed his hands from his wound, reaching out a bloody palm to shake yours. “The name’s Killer.”
***
👎︎✌︎❄︎✌︎ 👎︎☜︎☹︎☜︎❄︎☜︎👎︎
🕆︎🏱︎👎︎✌︎❄︎✋︎☠︎☝︎📬︎📬︎📬︎
*”YOU” - ATK 10 DEF 10
*Bored enough to heal the sketchy guy in the woods
LV 2 HP: 30/30