Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Perfectly imperfect. Heh. What a useless phrase. What was the point of being imperfect at all? 

Edmund Cadel pulled his hood down low over his caucasian face, his platinum blonde bangs bleeding into his face over blue eyes that darted between the people in the crowd around him. He grimaced, forcing his way through the hordes with the practised ease of a man who was raised in the city. 

To be quite frank with you, reader, New Orleans was no place for a young adult like him just getting into his early twenties, but where was he to go? Everywhere would be the same, and at least he had shelter here. With his father gone, the house on the empty plantation was empty, sure, but he and Madam Murder Mittens III didn’t quite fill up the space enough. It was too… quiet. His father’s yelling and experiments had filled the space with harsh, hostile sounds, but it was still loud and booming and full. Now, the silence whispered in the corners, mocking him for having such a huge home and no one to even miss him should he walk into the wrong closet and disappear forever. 

He shook his head. “Enough spooky ghost stories,” Edmund scolded himself. “You came out here to be with people. You’re with people. Why aren’t you happy?” 

He didn’t get an answer. 

Shoving his hands deep into the pocket of his hoodie, he glanced up toward the sky with a sigh. He knew he should have grabbed his umbrella, but it hadn’t been where he thought he’d left it, and he didn’t want to take the time to go looking for it when his mind was screaming at him to get out , get away from the silence . 

Now, however, he would pay for it. 

As he’d expected, the dark clouds had in fact been brewing up another rain, possibly a storm. He could feel the starting drops plopping softly against the top of his hood. People around him were digging out umbrellas from tote bags and backpacks while he continued to move through the crowd, hoping he wouldn’t draw too much attention simply by being the odd one out.

While the drops began hitting harder and faster, he began to actually consider ducking in somewhere to get out of the rain. The problem was, if he wanted to duck into any of the nearby shops, he would have to buy something. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t just walk in, wait for the rain to pass, then leave empty handed. It wasn’t fair to the shop owner. It would be rude .

And Mister Cadel didn’t put in all that time only to raise a rude heir.

Weighing the options in his mind and trying to find a way out of this that didn’t involve human interaction, nature seemed to mock him as thunder sealed his fate. He would have to go inside if it was beginning to thunderstorm. Which meant talking to people. 

Stars, he hated talking to people. 

Gathering his courage―and likely his manners, people were hard―Edmund ducked into a nearby store, oblivious to its contents, and froze to see lightning strike the spot where he had been standing. 

Damn. He knew his luck was shitty today, but he didn’t think it was that shitty. 

Shaking off the fact that he had nearly just died , Edmund looked around the tiny shop. It seemed like a trash heap had thrown up in it―excuse him, a historically beautiful trash heap, at any rate. Antiques lined it wall to wall, and created a labyrinth of strange displays that somehow looked tidier than they should be. Cabinets were lined with fine china and old books while restored figurines lined the surfaces in elaborate dioramas of old-fashioned life. He shuddered at the sight of dolls getting progressively older at a sewing machine before the last one had no one sitting at it, leaning away instinctively. That… That seemed rather morbid, if you asked him. Who the hell had approved that one?! 

He jumped as a cheery voice called out into the otherwise quiet shop.

“Welcome to Little Miss Muffet’s An-Tea-Ques and Thrift Shop, dearie. Could I help you find anything today?”

Quickly putting on his best polite smile to attempt to hide his surprise, he turned to catch sight of an older woman at the counter nearly hidden away by more displays and knick-knacks. Her sandy-skinned wrinkled smile made him guess she was maybe in her fifties or early sixties with cat’s eye glasses magnifying her gaze, which was entirely focused on him.

“No, ma’am,” he replied, flipping down his hood and brushing his hair behind his ear before clasping his hands behind his back respectfully. No need to look like a street urchin after all. “Thank you kindly, but I am only browsing for now,” he lied, though at this point it would eventually turn into the truth. He would buy something just to avoid the anxiety that would follow leaving empty handed.

The woman chuckled-a light sound that was almost too sweet, though that was probably Edmund overthinking the entire interaction-and nodded with a knowing glint in her eyes as she glanced toward the window and the rain now pouring down in sheets. “Alright, dearie. You just let me know if you need any help finding anything, won’t you? Just give this bell here a little ring and I’ll be back shortly. Have a few matters of business to take care of in the back.”

Nodding and confirming he would do just that if he needed her help with anything, he watched as she disappeared past an old wooden door, the door remaining partially open, likely so she could hear the bell. Being sure she was gone, he put his hands back in his pockets and considered flipping his hood back up, though he decided against it. Instead, he started wandering, looking through the clutter for something unobtrusive he could buy when he went to leave.

Looking through a collection of old cookbooks, he was surprised to find a doll among the dusty shelves and very clearly out of place. It seemed to be an old rag doll, and he wasn’t an expert on antiques, but it looked to be in good shape. Although, perhaps it seemed a bit lonely. Out of place with no other dolls to keep it company. It just didn’t quite belong where it was.

Okay, so maybe he was projecting a bit, but that couldn’t hurt right? And the doll seemed like a simple enough purchase…

Gently he spooned the doll into his arms, studying the little thing. Faded bronze fabric with careful stitches gave the illusion of afro-indigenous skin covered in a careful skeleton of white bones, paired with a skull mask pinned to the left side of its forehead. One eye was missing, replaced with a single cross stitch, while the only button was a brilliant blue-green. Spiralled black yarn was cut close to its head, just as neat and tidy as its gently pressed black suit and white dress shirt. Aside from its eye, the only splash of colour seemed to be a carefully embroidered bracelet, a silver thread framing mottled turquoise. It seemed so detailed, so carefully made, yet if you weren’t looking too closely, it could have been anyone. The only strange feature he found was its lack of a mouth, but he shook it off as the style of doll. Vaguely Edmund wondered what era it was from, and why it was made. 

“Well aren’t you a dapper fella,” he muttered to himself, turning it over to study it further. “Think you’d mind if I took you home?” 

Once again, he didn’t get an answer, but he could have sworn that he felt the fabric shiver in his hands. 

“Ah, I see you found one of our Great Depression pieces,” came the voice of the woman from behind him, causing him to jump a foot in the air and spin around to face her. “He’s a beauty, isn’t he?” 

Edmund hurriedly attempted to school his expression once again. Stars damn it. Caught off guard again. Maybe this woman needed a bell to wear . Or he needed better spacial awareness. Or just to not be so jumpy.

“Stars, ma’am. You spooked me,” he stated with a fake chuckle and a grin. “But yeah, this little guy caught my eye. I was wondering what era he was made in. Interesting. I will agree, he is quite the piece. Very well made,” he finished.

The woman beamed. “I’m so glad you think so, dearie. That one is one of my favourites, actually. Been looking for a good home for him. Poor thing is just so overlooked most times, and I won’t sell it to a child. Just too old and fragile for that, the poor dear,” she explained, a sad smile on her face. Although, there was also an odd glint in her eye. Edmund wasn’t sure what it was or what it meant, but he chose to believe it was only excitement that she might earn a sale. Maybe the explanation was only a sob story to gain his sympathies, make him feel bad either for her or for the doll. On the other hand though, maybe she really was hoping to find a good home for one of her favourite pieces.

Either way, it seemed harmless enough. He needed to buy something to leave, she needed to sell something to make some money to keep the shop open. It was fair, and in all honesty he doubted she actually got very many customers. Besides, maybe he was only being foolish, but he actually did feel bad for the little fabric doll. It deserved a good home.

Stars, just how lonely was he if he was trying to connect with a doll ?

“Perhaps we could discuss the history of that specific darling in the back? I have a new blend of tea I’ve been hoping to have someone try. It’d be on the house, dear,” she coaxed. “Then you can pay for your new friend and take him―it home.” 

Edmund pursed his lips. He had never really been fond of tea―not since the last time his father tried to… entertain his friend―but it’d be rude to say no… Trying to find a way out of the situation, he looked back down at the doll in his hands only for his eyes to widen in surprise. 

The doll no longer looked lifeless. The glint of the light off the button seemed to shift every few seconds, from the woman to him, and it was subtly shaking as much as a rag doll could. Once it realised that they had made eye contact, it very carefully shook its head ever so slightly, as if trying to hide it from her. 

Edmund rubbed his eyes and looked again, only for the rag doll to appear limp and inanimate, as it had before. 

“Dearie? Everything all right?” asked the woman, snapping him out of his trance. “Are you sure you don’t want one of my more herbal blends? It’ll perk you right up.” 

Shaking his head, he simply gave her a wan smile. “Apologies, ma’am. I just didn’t sleep much the last couple nights. My eyes have been playing tricks on me all day. I’m fine, really.” Glancing outside, he was relieved to see the rain had slowed and nearly stopped altogether for a moment, though the clouds still looked dark and brooding. It had only been a cloudburst. He might be able to make it home without getting completely soaked if he left soon.

And even better, it gave him an excuse to get out of teatime without seeming too rude.

“It seems the rain has let up a little bit,” the older woman stated with a sigh, as if she had seen what was going through his mind at that moment. It was almost spooky. Like she already knew he would turn her down again.

Giving her an apologetic smile, Edmund nodded. “I guess it has. I sincerely apologise for declining, ma’am, but if I don’t leave now I may miss my chance to get home without a cold shower,” he apologised, looking down at the doll again and turning it over until he found a price tag, still convincing himself the extra movement had only come from some of the stuffing settling in the fabric again after being shuffled and moved around. “I will definitely take this little guy though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, dearie. I understand. Let’s get you settled up, then get you on your way before the heavens decide to spill again.”

The two were quick to get everything rung up and paid for, the shop owner even giving him a discount he debated on declining, yet before he could get a word out she stopped him with just a look . A no nonsense look that made it clear he wasn’t going to be able to argue. Silently relenting, Edmund declined a bag in favour of slipping the doll into his hoodie and the receipt into his wallet. Just as he was getting ready to walk out the door, she called out again.

“You just come back and let me know if you have any problems or need to return him dearie. Or if you just want to visit an old woman for a cup of tea and some stories,” she stated with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am. Have a nice day.”

“And you as well, dearie.”

With a polite wave, Edmund flipped his hood up again and ventured out onto the street again, wondering why he would need to return the doll in the first place when there really wasn’t anything that could go wrong with a rag doll . He again questioned the discount she’d given him, but what would be the worst thing to happen? It was haunted? Fine, then he finally had someone to share the house with. He chuckled at that thought, though there was probably more truth to it than he’d ever admit.

And of course, having not looked back over his shoulder as he departed, Edmund never saw the porcelain doll with the worried expression watching him through the shop window. 

Chapter Text

Perfect. 

Fantastic. 

Wonderful. 

Just peachy! 

… Yeah Error was right, the newbies talked weird. 

No soap was this happening. 

That felt better.  

Nightmare―his human name long forgotten–cursed aloud to himself as he was carried off by a new human. He knew better than to get caught out in the open. He knew better! How was this happening again?! Dream was gonna kill him. 

Peering up out of the jacket he found himself nestled into, the doll pondered over what he was going to do. He couldn’t just casually start waving and introducing himself. For one, the human wouldn’t understand him anyway, and for two, if they found out he was alive, who knew what would happen. The cursed toy would rather not get cut up again, thank you very much.

Nightmare turned his attention again to the outside. Not so much what he could see, considering he was zipped up in the human’s hoodie, but what he could feel―the human’s gait and speed―then what he could hear―the multitude of vehicles passing by getting fewer and farther in between. Like the two of them were getting further away from the hub of city activity. Where were they going? 

“Don’t worry, buddy,” the human muttered kindly to him. “I’ve got a big home for us to stay in, and it’s out of the rain. I bet you don’t like the rain either.” 

Nightmare scoffed. “Of course I don’t. Error would have to use his needles to pull out my mouldy stuffing,” he grumbled, subtly nestling closer into the human’s clothing as he moved so he wouldn’t notice. “Dolls aren’t exactly made for extreme conditions, bigs.” 

He definitely didn’t like how kindly the human was speaking to him, almost as if he knew he was a person, nope nope nope nope―

Nightmare shook his head. No. He was the terror of the antique store, the bane of all bigs. Bigs were dangerous. He couldn’t get attached. He needed to get back without letting Muffet claim another victim. 

Besides, the living to dead doll ratio was close to one in a million. No need to get his hopes up. 

Nightmare shivered, pushing away the thoughts of the wooden corpses on her shelves. He and his friends were… were lucky. They had survived. They weren’t in the best circumstance, no, but they were alive. They had each other, and they had their cabinet. 

Or, they did, until Nightmare went out and got caught again ―

“We’re here,” said the human, startling him out of his silent rant. He already missed having company. “What do you think?” 

Nightmare looked up and felt his metaphorical eyes bulge. That was where he lived?! That house was huge! Not mansion-huge, maybe, but in his day if you lived in this sort of place you were rich ! That looked to be maybe four or five thousand dollars, on the low end. Who was this kid?! 

“I know it’s a lot, and I live here alone with Madam Murder Mittens since my… my father died… But hey! Maybe you can make it feel less lonely, yeah, buddy?” continued the human as he smiled down at Nightmare. 

“Dude, if you are looking to a doll for company, you need more than a friend―Wait, did you just say Madam Murder Mittens ?! Who is that?!” he asked in alarm. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the lady of the house,” the human went on, completely ignoring the cries he did not understand―that no bigs understood―in favour of continuing inside out of the rain. “I think you’ll like her.” 

“If she is what I think she is and you leave me alone with her I’m putting spiders in your bedsheets,” Nightmare warned him, not that it mattered. 

The ragdoll clung to his shirt as best he could―curse his lack of fingers―as he was brought into the house and the hoodie was unzipped, looking around nervously as he gazed at the bare walls. No decorations? No photos? And why was everything grey and muted? Where was the colour? Modern bigs were so strange… They couldn’t even decorate without biffing it! 

His thoughts skidded to a halt as a warm warbling meow cut the brief silence. Looking over, much to his dismay, he found a giant cat stretching daintily as it came through the doorway into the entrance hall. With a small “mrrp” the feline made its way over, sitting at the human’s feet with one paw raised. Sage green eyes met Nightmare’s single button, and he was frozen again. Bringing him into a home with that thing was as good a death sentence as just filling him full of daylight. And probably would have been less painful too. 

“Well if it isn’t just the little lady I wanted to see,” the human cooed, finally shedding the coat with the doll held securely in one hand. Stooping down after hanging up the jacket, he ran a gentle hand down the cat’s back a few times and scratched her around her ears and cheeks, the feline bumping against his hand as she purred. “You know, missy, I picked up a new little guest in town today. Think you can handle welcoming him in?” With that, the big presented the doll to the cat, entirely ignorant of the fact he’d just sealed the little toy’s fate.

Well give him a Chicago overcoat, Dream was never going to see him again. He didn’t even give his brother a proper kiss off. 

The red-tinged cream-coloured cat with more fluff than a fur coat stood up on her hind legs to reach him, giving the frozen ragdoll a sniff. She met his eye again after her little inspection, tilting her head with another soft trill before bumping her head against his chest. She purred again, rubbing her face against the fabric.

Was… Was he really not being torn to shreds right now? 

The human chuckled softly, unaware the doll in his hand was currently trying to process the fact he wasn’t being used as a chew toy . “Take it you like the little guy, huh, Mittens? Good. He’ll be staying for a little while.” Standing, the man paused and snickered again, looking down at his pet still waiting patiently for him to return to petting her. “You know, looks like I have two ragdolls now. My little Murder Mittens, and my new little buddy.”

Nightmare didn’t quite understand. That was a cat. Not a ragdoll. Well… Unless that was the breed of cat she was? He halfway remembered Killer talking about different breeds, and perhaps Nightmare had absently heard him mention a ragdoll breed? Possibly? It didn’t really matter, he supposed. He never really paid attention to breeds when he was still human–it really only mattered that they did their jobs as pest control–so he didn’t see much of a point paying attention to it now.

He breathed a silent sigh of relief as the big reached to place him on a nearby shelf, glad to think he may be left to his own devices for a moment, and hopefully away from the cat’s reach. However, there was hesitation in the human’s movement. Glancing subtly over, he noticed the big’s expression seemed… conflicted. After a moment of thought on the larger’s part, the doll was brought back close to his chest, looking between him and the doorway for whatever reason, almost as if he expected someone to walk around the corner or through the front door. Finally though, he ended up simply tucking Nightmare into the crook of his arm.

“You can stick with me for a little bit, right? I can show you around…”

Nightmare frowned. “I… I am a doll, bigs. Why are you giving me a tour? And what are you afraid of? Are we in danger? Is someone nearby wearing iron? You a patsy? What’s going on?” He felt his resolve start to melt into concern before he mentally shook himself. He couldn’t get attached to bigs. He couldn’t. They never stuck around. “Whatever, bigs. You still have to put me down eventually.” 

The human brought him around the house, and every room just dampened his spirits. Sleek, boxy designs with so little colour it hurt, almost no personal items at all, and what was that abomination of a mirror ? He stared at the criss-crossed shards of reflective metal strewn across the wall. Dream was never going to believe this. 

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but I’m… I’m still trying to get to decorating since Father… left. It’s still hard sometimes, you know?” the human rambled as he walked through the room. “The kitchen is really the only space that I’ve started to make mine, but then again, it was never really his to begin with. Only the staff and I ever came in here, and the cook would give me cookies if I asked really nicely.” 

The kitchen was better, with nice towels in violet hung over the oven handle, a beautiful backdrop made of mismatched green tiles of all hues with carefully curated leafy shapes between the deep brown cabinets and the granite countertops, and ceramic containers carefully labelled with their contents over forested scenery. The dark oak table was delicately draped in an embroidered tablecloth, and Nightmare smiled at the touristy magnets on the fridge door holding up photos of picturesque views and the human with two others in various locations. This room felt lived in. It felt like a home. 

“This room used to be all white and black and I just… I couldn’t stand it. I had it remodelled two months ago to feel like it was outside and… I love it now. It’s more… homely, really, and I just like it much better in here now,” the human went on. “I’ve always loved the outdoors, and between my bedroom, this room, and the bathroom, I couldn’t stand the sterile feeling in the rooms I frequented. So if the bathroom is entirely in nice blues and pebbly textures with the pretty waterfall pictures I took on my trip to Niagara last fall, don’t judge me, okay?” 

Nightmare wasn’t sure whether to feel sad or concerned with the fact the human’s comment, while it may have been meant as a joke, seemed to carry an undertone of a true request when the larger looked away with a sheepish expression. Again, he was a doll. It shouldn’t matter what he thought of the human’s home, because he wasn’t supposed to have an opinion to begin with. This human was… certainly odd to say the least. Of course, that wasn’t any of Nightmare’s concern. Or it shouldn’t be, at any rate. He was just trying to figure out how to get back to his brother and his friends, that was it.

The human wandered around a few more sterile rooms before finally arriving at an oak door with a name burned into the wood. Edmund Cadel. Another room, just across from this one in an identical style, was also labelled with a name. Calvin Cadel. The big hesitated a moment, glancing at the door across from the one he’d placed his hand on the knob. He seemed… nervous looking at that door. Nightmare might file that away for later. When he can actually explore a bit on his own.

“Uh… Anyway,” the human mumbled quietly, finally turning the knob to the door he’d picked and swinging it open. “This is probably the last stop on our little tour. This is my bedroom. Not the most… clean looking, but it’s cosy. I think anyway…”

Nightmare had no idea what the man meant by the room not looking clean. There were no clothes or other tripping hazards on the floor. The bed was made. Everything seemed perfectly organised. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if the couple of small bookshelves were alphabetized . 

That being said, this was the most comfortable room Nightmare had seen in the house. Of course, that made sense, but it seemed like a stark contrast to the rest of the home. It was much darker, and instead of turning on the overhead light, the human, Edmund he was assuming by the name on the door, simply reached over and flipped a switch connected to a string of fairy lights. The soft glow only made the room seem more welcoming, illuminating a variety of miniatures and models scattered here and there around the room on shelves and the desk. It just seemed so much more… lived in. Like someone was actually meant to use the room.

As the doll gawked silently at the sudden change of atmosphere, Edmund closed and locked the door behind him as he moved further into the room, seeming to relax somewhat with a small sigh. “Well, I suppose this is your home now. Seems the best place to keep you where you won’t get damaged, or torn, or get anything spilled on you.” The human stopped at the edge of the bed, flopping backward on the mattress with a huff as he stared at the ceiling for a moment. “You know, if I could stay in here all day every day, I’d count myself lucky,” he commented, raising Nightmare up over his face with a small, almost sad smile as he looked the doll over again.

Nightmare felt his metaphorical heart soften as he realised this man really had bought him for companionship. He let his eye roam around the room to the dioramas of knights saving princes―well wasn’t that a surprise―and majestic mountain ranges with tall waterfalls, and mystical buildings full of magical memorabilia, and steampunk creatures with intricate cogs. All of it spoke of someone who wanted to escape this place, with its sterile walls and lack of colour, for a world that didn’t exist. Looking up at the kid big he wondered what the hell happened to him. 

“I… I know it’s early, but I was thinking of turning in for the night. I’m not super hungry, and I know I didn’t eat lunch, but I had my coffee this morning and I had a granola bar on my way out the door, so I’m good for today, right?” he said nervously, almost as if trying to reassure himself. 

They both looked at his stomach as it growled. 

The bigs Edmund sighed. “I suppose I have to feed Mittens before I go to bed anyway… I’ll be back soon, little buddy.” 

Grabbing a sweater and grimacing as he gripped the doorknob, Edmund took a deep breath and plunged back into the house, treating it like a dangerous jungle to be braved. 

And maybe it was. The man had certainly seemed tense, now that Nightmare had seen him actually relaxed in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Although, he was pretty sure the guy lived alone with just the cat…

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he sat up and started plotting his next move. He needed to get out of the room. 

Scrambling to his feet, he surveyed the edge of the mattress for possible climbing points. Satisfied that the nightstand drawer handles would work as footholds, he slid off the side and quickly made his way to the hallway. 

Looking to his left and seeing the light in the kitchen on again, he turned his attention to Calvin’s room. Stealing a belt from Edmund’s drawer, he threw it up around the doorknob and twisted until it opened. 

And the oppressing gloom that spilled into the hallway from the few open inches alone was enough to make him choke. 

There was nothing but darkness inside there, though not truly. Death had long claimed it, and he could tell as he stepped inside. The bed was perfectly made, and the furniture was cleaned off, but everything was white and black. Awards for scientific achievements lined the walls, including one for a study on children that made him shudder. Finally, on the nightstand, he found the source of the oppressive darkness he could feel.

A single photo. A photo of a man hiding that darkness behind his thin rimmed glasses. Darkness that no doubt would swallow any light it could sink its claws into.

Even light only just beginning to find its spark. 

He didn’t stay any longer than he had to. The energy was just… too oppressive.

He’d gotten his answers about the second bedroom either way.

He was quick to retrieve the ends of the belt thrown over the knob and swiftly pulled the door shut with a click and a relieved sigh as he pulled the leather band down again. Well, relieved until he turned to see the damn cat watching him with her disapproving gaze. With a small, “Mrrp,” she stood and made her way leisurely toward the once again frozen ragdoll.

This was it. This was the shredding he’d expected.

He was more than a little confused when she seemed to simply walk past him, but gave a surprised gasp as something  grabbed the back of his neck and lifted . It took a moment for him to process that the cat had picked him up as if he were a kitten . She wasn’t even holding him that firmly. Just enough that he wouldn’t fall out of her mouth as she walked. 

Which was another problem. He had no idea where she was taking him.

He didn’t dare try to pull away, knowing full well that those fangs would tear through his fabric like paper if he tried. Instead, he watched as the cat brought him to her tree and climbed up a few levels to a comfy bed, laying on top of him and glaring down as if daring him to escape. He held his hands up in surrender with a simple, “I’m not going anywhere, M-Madam Mittens,” which seemed to placate her as she simply settled down with him in her grasp. 

It took everything within him not to turn around and look when the calling for Mittens to come eat dinner by the big was interrupted by a gasp and the sound of frantic footsteps. 

“Mittens! Darling, this isn’t a toy for you to play with. He’s… He’s an antique!” Edmund scolded her gently as he carefully extracted him from underneath her. “Great stars… Are you okay, little buddy? I don’t see any scratches…” 

“I should be asking you that,” Nightmare muttered, but allowed Edmund to continue his examination if only to appease his anxiety. 

The human eventually sighed and apologised. “Sorry… I forgot to close the door. Come on, let’s get you back in my room so Mittens won’t run off with you again.” 

Cradled in the crook of the human’s arm, Nightmare sighed and relished in the safety for just a moment. The big truly was a ray of sunshine compared to that sanctuary of dark energy. It was a wonder they existed in the same house. 

And if Edmund shuddered while glancing at Calvin’s door on his way to his room, Nightmare didn’t blame him one bit. Not at all. 

After all, he shuddered too.

Chapter Text

Ba-dum...

Ba-dum... 

Ba-dum... 

Dream pressed a hand over his slow beating heart with the other pressed to the window, scanning the crowd for the man who had taken Nightmare. The twin heartbeat that normally comforted the both of them with its matching tempo now only reminded him that his brother wasn’t there. Not a single person out there looked like the big who took his brother. How was he supposed to get Night back if he couldn’t even recognise the buyer?

Briefly, he glanced to the register at the front counter. If he was careful, he could maybe get a name. It would be in the paperwork, wouldn't it? At least a name would be better than nothing. At the same time though, did he really want to risk getting caught and shattered again? 

Muffet rarely missed her targets. It was likely she was still miffed by the fact the man had managed to excuse himself without joining her for her little tea party of death. He walked out with Nighty in hand, and without consequence.

…Maybe he could wait until the shop closed. It would be much later, and who knew if the man was local. She had to get an address for her records, right? In case she had to send him a letter regarding his purchase? Though, if he was from a ways away, maybe he would still be in town for a while. Hopefully. Dream might be able to find him... If he could get the door open…

Dream heard the rattling of hooks and the thunk of wooden limbs climbing the dresser drawers behind him, but he didn't turn around. As expected, it wasn't long before a marionette had walked up and sat down beside the porcelain doll.

"Hey, Dream. You've been up here a little while," the newcomer commented gently, carefully shifting the puppeteer's cross secured to his back by his own strings.

Dream gave a half-hearted smile  to the puppet before looking back to the window. 

“Night was bought. The big got away with him, and now I’m worried,” he admitted, rubbing the glass skin on his arm nervously.

"Yeah... Ink saw it too. He came and told the rest of us who hadn't seen after the fact," the other replied, looking Dream over with a worried expression. "How are you holding up, Dream?"

The fragile doll huffed a humorless laugh. "How do you think, Blue?" He asked back, though his voice was dull and lacking heat.

Blue sighed, the elder doll giving Dream a piteous look. “I know. Error has never been taken from here, but I have. It’s awful. Your other half is missing. Trust me, I know. But he’ll come back. We always do,” he assured him, placing a gentle wooden hand on his glass shoulder, Dream huffing in response to the careful touch. 

A part of the porcelain doll was always a bit bitter about the extra gentle treatment he received. The dolls knew they needed to be careful with Dream. Porcelain dolls were fragile, after all, and being broken was the most painful thing that could happen to them… Physically anyway. At the same time though, Dream wished he and the others didn't have to take such precautions. It got so exhausting sometimes to constantly have to be so mindful.

"But what if this turns into the exception to the rule?" Dream murmured dismally. He slumped with a mixture of helplessness and painful longing as Blue’s hand settled. He just wanted his brother back.

“He’ll end up back here eventually. Ms. Muffet always gets her prey and you know it, however… cruel she may be. She’ll bring Night back. It will be all right, Dream, you know it will.” 

Optimism. The hallmark of the trapped dolls in this forsaken place. What else did they have when escaping was impossible and getting caught by Ms. Muffet was a torture sentence? Nothing they did had any meaning, and how was life worth anything when not even the worst pain can bring it to an end?

Be that as it may, Dream was having an awfully difficult time keeping his chin up in this case. How ironic. Usually it was him reminding everyone to see the glass half full. 

Regardless, he nodded in response to Blue’s statement, though without much enthusiasm or belief. "Perhaps... unless that man has already caught a train or a bus elsewhere. Who knows where he's taking Nightmare? Or what he'll do when he finds out Nighty isn't just a doll..." He trailed off. He wasn't sure whether he meant to say all of that out loud, but Blue just had that kind of effect on most of them in the shop. Friendly, thoughtful, kind. Someone who felt like a natural outlet for thoughts one would usually keep to themselves. He and Error were the oldest out of all of them, so the marionette often had some decent advice as well...

“Tell you what: I’ll help you find his information after the shop closes, but until then, you need to either get somewhere more out of sight, or go back to the cabinet before she catches you. I am a lot easier to put back together than you are. I can keep an eye out for the kid,” Blue promised, giving Dream his signature kind smile as he gently pulled the fragile doll to his feet.

"But..." Dream didn't finish his protest. He didn't want to go back to the cabinet. Firstly, as much as he trusted Blue, he felt that he needed to be there if his brother showed up again. On top of that though... he didn't want to be seen by the others yet. He didn't want the Trio's pity, or Error’s knowing sympathetic look, or Ink’s attempt at distracting him. 

Crossing his arms, he sighed and looked down, tracing the pattern of the dress he was in for the thousandth time. He unfortunately couldn't deny Blue’s point about getting caught either. Shattering was never pleasant, and with Muffet having just lost her quarry, she was likely to be more careless with his fragile body.

“Dream, you don’t have to go back to the cabinet if you don’t want to,” Blue reminded him. “You don’t even have to stop watching. I just don’t want you in her line of sight, okay?”

The porcelain doll relaxed slightly and nodded. He just had to find a place hidden away where he could still see the window. That couldn't be too difficult with all the clutter, right? 

Turning, he carefully made his way along the dresser they were standing on, being sure to stay well away from the ledge, and looked to the other furniture and figurines in the window. Finally, he thought he caught sight of a decent spot. A small doll sized rocking chair situated beside the dresser sat behind a large trunk, facing the window. If he sat there, it would be more difficult to see him from inside the shop, but he could still see outside and not look too out of place.

"Hey, Blue? What do you think of that rocking chair?"

Blue’s eyebrow raised when he considered it. “Woah… That chair looks dilly! Surprised no one has claimed it for the cabinet yet. Must be a new purchase.” He waved on the glass doll, grinning at him. “Go on, Dream. Stars, I wish I had something that some pumpkins. I might go scavenging tomorrow,” Blue mumbled to himself, jokingly envious of his friend.

Dream snorted and rolled his eyes, though he couldn't deny he was amused. "I'm sure you will, old-timer," he replied before carefully moving closer to the edge of the dresser. There was a bit of anxiety as he looked over the ledge and swallowed. Heights definitely were not his forte.

"Blue... could you help me get down?" he requested quietly, not sure if he was embarrassed by having to ask or not.

Blue chuckled softly and climbed down before holding his hands up to catch the glass doll. “That’s it. I’m here. I’ll catch you,” he said kindly.

Dream gave him a nervous smile, gingerly sitting on the edge of the dresser. He stared at the drop for a few agonizing seconds, a bit of vertigo twisting inside him before taking a deep breath and pushing off. Of course, he had his obligatory mini heart attack as he fell the distance, but Blue caught him before he could hit the ground. As he was set on his feet, he took a few shaky breaths and clung to Blue’s arms for a moment to steady himself.

"Thank you. I know I'm being dramatic, but thank you."

“I know I’m not Night, but I’m still here for you, Dream,” Blue told him as he helped him stay balanced. “You can ask me for help anytime, okay? Do you want me to sit down here with you?”

"...Please? If you wouldn't mind?" He requested quietly after a moment of thought. Sure, he didn't really want to be around everyone , but at the same time... He was alone without Nighty. It felt that way anyway, so even if he couldn't have Nightmare beside him, he could at least have Blue to mitigate the aching loneliness.

The marionette sat in the rocking chair and pulled Dream onto his lap so the porcelain doll could hear his heartbeat while they watched. 

A little surprised, Dream blinked before relaxing into Blue’s hold. The therapeutic sound could usually soothe any of them, their hearts long slowed by their curse, and the porcelain figure certainly needed it. The heartbeat did help, though it didn't quite sync up as Nightmare’s did with his twin’s. With that sombre thought in mind, Dream turned his attention back to the window.

“We’ll find him, Dream,” Blue purred, a soft smile gracing his face as they watched the people go by. “He’ll come back, and you’ll be together again. Promise.”

Dream only hummed in response. He wanted Blue to be right, but he was still reeling from Nightmare’s disappearance to begin with. Regardless, the dolls kept their vigil in the window, but the big who had taken his twin was still nowhere to be seen.

By the end of the day, Dream's heart had only sunk further. Thankfully, they hadn't been caught by Muffet for her to add insult to injury, or perhaps the other way around, so once she had locked up and left the store, the dolls were safe to roam as they saw fit. Dream's thoughts again turned to the front desk, where he could possibly learn more about his brother's new captor.

Blue climbed up the trunk and reached down for his fragile friend. “Come on, Dream. We have records to read,” he coaxed, smiling at him encouragingly. “We can come back for the rocking chair later. It’d make a great addition to our cabinet, after all.”

Reaching back up with a wan smile of his own, the porcelain doll grasped his friend's hand and braced himself to be lifted up. "Something tells me Error is going to claim it for his knitting as soon as no one's looking," he commented, trying to lighten the mood at least a little.

“He’ll share. You found it,” Blue pointed out, the two of them looking around carefully as they made their way across the shop to the back counter.

Dream followed a few paces behind Blue, face pinched with wariness. "We're sure she's gone, right? She didn't just lock the door and hide out somewhere?" He asked. It wouldn't be the first time the shop owner had tried a nasty trick like that. Dream may have wanted to know more about where his brother could be, but he wasn't really too keen on risking being smashed again. It always took so long for him to heal, even with glue helping hold him together.

Blue looked up at the ceiling, knocking on a nearby object to ask their resident ceiling crawler if Ms. Muffet was gone without raising his voice. 

The small drawing mannequin lifted a ceiling tile above them and gave Blue a wave, letting them know they were safe.

Dream relaxed, also waving with a small smile. "Thank you, Ink," he called in a whisper-shout.

"No problem, Dreamboat. Hope you find what you're looking for," The mannequin replied, not bothering to lower his voice before disappearing back into the ceiling.

Blue winced before sighing. "Stars... Ink thinks he's some kind of bimbo, I swear. Sometimes I wonder if he's a dingbat or not, but he might be closer to a goof. One day he'll remember to be quiet. Come on, Dream. This way."

The porcelain doll sighed as well and shook his head, following obediently. "You shred it, wheat. Sometimes I can't tell if he means to be dingy like that or if he's a partial whacky twit. Don't get me wrong, I like the guy, but some days..." he trailed off, slipping into his own slang with his fellow older doll. Truly, some of the new terms the younger ones used were a touch strange… 

"At least he's not a goldbrick or creep. Ruru would have thrown hands by now," Blue snickered as he looked around the corner, studying the counter before nodding to himself. "All right, we need to get a gander at those files before that heel figures out what we're doing. Stars, I could use a drag... And watch your noodle. Don't hit it on this ledge."

"I won't," Dream assured, following close behind the marionette. "Hopefully she left them out somewhere easy... I don't want to go snooping anywhere too obvious. We have to put everything back exactly how we found it," he rambled nervously.

"I know. She's stupidly good at noticing things. Damn floozy must know some spell to tell if things have been moved," the elder doll agreed as he clambered up the counter's side and reached back down for Dream's hand. "Grab on. I'll pull you up."

Dream nodded and reached up, grabbing the offered hand with a grunt. "A spell or she's just the observant type. My brother and I used to know someone, a relative I think, who could tell if you moved even the slightest thing out of place. This broad might just be that kind of screwball too," he commented as he was pulled up.

They turned and looked on the counter, seeing a small organised mess of files, order forms, and receipts. 

“Boy, that’s a lot of papers,” Blue mumbled, eyes wide at the sight. “How are we supposed to find anything?”

A sinking feeling settled in the porcelain doll like a heavy stone. "I... don't know," he admitted quietly, his expression falling and shoulders slumping. There was so much . It would be nearly impossible for them to return everything exactly . How was he supposed to find any information about where his brother could be in such a mess?

"Let’s see. He came in today… oday… Do you think it'd be on the top of it all? We can just slide it out if we can see a doll on the receipt," the other doll reasoned, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just be careful and make sure not to shift the papers when you step, okay?"

"Maybe... If we're lucky. Logically it should be close to the top..." Dream agreed hesitantly. When did this broad ever work on logic? Regardless, he stepped lightly onto the wild pile of papers, carefully observing each item in search for his brother's receipt.

Blue hummed as they continued, scanning the pages until he perked up. "Aha! Found it!" He gestured the glass doll over, grinning at the receipt. "One antique Great Depression era doll, twenty dollars. This is it."

Dream straightened and abandoned his own search, rushing over as quickly as the scattered papers underfoot would allow. Standing beside Blue, he tilted his head to read the crooked paper with some difficulty. Reading had always been a touch difficult for him. Not enough for him to be deemed slow, but enough that it made schooling harder. 

"Ed... Edmund Cabel... Cadel , damn it. Edmund Cadel . Huh... That sounds kinda familiar, doesn't it?"

"Cadel was one of the big names back in the day. They had a huge mansion on the rich side of town when I was human. They ran the medicine stuff. I think their patriarch was starting a pharmacy," Blue said with a hum as he quickly scanned the info. "If I remember right, this is the same address. He lives here in town, maybe fifteen blocks away in the rich part of things."

"Oh. Yeah, I think that's right," Dream agreed with a nod and a sigh, only slightly jealous of the older doll's seemingly slightly more intact memory than the rest of them had. "I think they were still in business when I was human too. Tightwads, but they weren't crumbs. Made them expensive. Pretentious too," he continued with a sigh. The Cadels were a big name. Big enough that even Dream could remember.

"The kid who came in seemed to be better than the ones I knew," Blue admitted in a hopeful tone, leading him away from the papers so they wouldn't end up leaving evidence that they were there. "Maybe Night isn't in such a bad place at the moment."

Dream sighed again, crossing his arms with a doubtful look. "I don't know, Blue. Like tends to breed like. It's just as likely my brother ended up with a nogoodnik..."

The marionette huffed a frustrated sigh. "Yeah, I guess you're right... but it still means that he may come back here with your brother. He's not driving off across the country with him," he pointed out, trying to reassure Dream.

That did help a bit, the porcelain doll relaxing ever so slightly. "Yeah... I suppose that's true. He's local at least," he allowed with a small attempt at a smile. "I just worry about this Edmund thinking Nighty is haunted and trying to do something rash. I hope he just brings him back."

"He will," Blue assured, climbing down and reaching for the porcelain doll. "Now, come on. Are we moving that rocking chair tonight or not?"

Dream gave him a slightly more genuine smile and chuckled, approaching the ledge to perform the same routine as they had at the dresser by the window. "Yes, sir. That sounds like a good idea to me."