Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Four is going on a power trip. That’s Clock’s running theory, anyway.

Against any and all common sense, he began to worry when the flood of letters from Four and X came to an abrupt stop for a month and a half. Usually he gets a hefty stack every few hours, and most of his time in Two’s pocket dimension is spent responding to them. If nothing else, it helps to stave off the boredom of having nothing to do.

(It helps him bury his guilt about everything that happened with Winner, if only for a moment.)

But the lack of letters was fine. It was growing stressful trying to figure out proper, worthwhile responses to them that wouldn’t cause Four to claw his way into Two’s pocket dimension and eviscerate him, leaving him to be forgotten. Again. He doesn’t know how Gaty can be friends with Two without being afraid. Afraid is all Clock can ever be.

So he actually talked to people. Cake, mostly. He was nice for that. Apologetic and approachable and unjudging. He could try to talk to Eggy and Coiny… but it was obvious they didn’t really care about him. Some things never changed, he supposed. Especially since Pin had just shown up. Today, as a matter of fact, not that he cared much. Yet another one of his former teammates. Someone he couldn’t build up the courage to talk to.

Just Pin. No one else. He finds himself more and more unnerved by that with every passing day, considering that Eraser was the latest elimination second only to Pin. According to him, Gaty was supposed to be eliminated, but her absence was conspicuous in a different way. If Two was anything like Four and X, they won’t let go of the things they care about. Clock feels like he’s being suffocated by Four and X, and they aren’t even fucking here, so that’s about how that’s going for him.

Bomby, Bell, Barf Bag, and Needle were all missing. Not to sound too heartless, but the only person he really cared about was- No, not cared. In a sense, he cared about all four of them being gone, because if anything happened to Winner- He can’t think about it. He’s just worried about Needle. Yet another one of his former teammates that he fantasizes about talking to, the various fantasies situated right between ones of Winner. The contents are different for obvious reasons.

He resents Two for sending him here, even if that meant he would have to stay in the kitchen with an increasingly clingy Four and X. Because here, he’s completely clueless about everything happening in the outside world. That long span of seemingly no eliminations, Four and X’s letters being the only reassurance that the competition was even happening, was torture. They’re all just sitting, clueless ducks now that they’re stuck here. It’s unbearable.

So many people are missing, and the number only increases by the day. Pin says that Basketball and Robot Flower had been eliminated before her, but she wasn’t surprised by their absence. “Things were kinda complicated when they were eliminated,” she had explained, nose wrinkled.

If Clock had looked her in the eye as she spoke, he could delude himself into thinking that she was talking to him. Would be the first time in a while, because things had been awkward after he had been brought back. His fury was loud and explosive, and after chewing his team out, he had avoided them for the rest of the competition. No one made any effort to talk to him. He supposes it was too awkward? He can’t tell if being talked to would have made things better or worse.

The time after being brought back to the split had been the worst time of his life. He grew fearful of things he had never even thought about before. Being forgotten wore on him, pressing on him like he was carrying the weight of the world. In that vein, he grew fearful of elimination too, because who actually thought about someone after they were eliminated? Out of sight, out of mind. He was scared of Four and his cruelty, he was scared of his team never thinking of him the moment he left their sight, he was scared of all of it. Sometimes he felt like his fear was all that kept him alive, considering he never said a word to anyone else.

When elimination had finally happened to him, though, he had felt numb. He had screwed everything up with Winner. He hadn’t been able to prove his worth. Everything was miserable and he couldn’t stand it. He had been eliminated, and at least it was finally over.

(Ice Cube had looked upon him with pity and a resolute look in her eyes upon his elimination that ensured he wouldn’t be forgotten, at least not by her. That had kept him going when nothing else would. He wants to thank her when he has the chance.)

Funny, then, how elimination, something he had once feared and then had ultimately became impassive toward became something that had ended up ultimately soothing all of his fears, even if he’s not entirely sure he’s a fan of how everything ended. He doesn’t want to be entangled with Four and X. They’re just really hard to say no to.

And still, he’s made no move to change things. Dating Four and X, because that is unfortunately what it is, even if they don’t know the word, has been both restorative and painful. Painful in the sense that he doesn’t really love them and doesn’t want to be in this situation, restorative in the sense that if nothing else, he’ll never be forgotten. Four and X are immortal. They’ll live forever. He… thinks? It’s pretty unclear. Their fascination with him means that his memory will persist past death for centuries. That’s more than anyone else could do for him.

Clock is still terrified of being forgotten. That’s a fear that will never go away. But when he’s around Four and X, that fear abates, something warm and foreign settling in his chest as he leans into their touch and bathes in their words. He knows it’s ironic, because Four had been the one to kill him in the first place, not that he remembers his reason for doing so. Without Four, he wouldn’t have to deal with this debilitating fear. He wouldn’t have ruined things with Winner.

But Four loves him. Most people don’t. He can forgive a lot of things so long as he feels loved. Maybe he’s just spineless? Or maybe he’s just that desperate. It’s not exactly anything he can put into words. He doesn’t love Four and X. Is that possible? He doesn’t know if it’s about him or about them. Reciprocated love just never feels in the cards. He doesn’t want that, not with them.

That doesn’t stop the two’s affections. And he’s such a bad person that he tolerates it anyway. More than tolerates. He enjoys the attention he’s showered with to the point where he doesn’t know what he’ll do without it. He relies on it as a crutch of sorts, using it as fuel and a tool to beat back the self loathing in equal measure. The lack of letters took a weight off of him, true, but he also felt so much more isolated and forgotten than he had ever since he had been eliminated.

Pin showed up today and hadn’t left Coiny’s side since. She looked bitter, like she hadn’t wanted elimination, but she looked relieved to be with her closest friend again. Neither of them spared a single thought for their former teammate, and why would they? Not like he had a complex about being forgotten or anything…

Four and X have an agreement with Two. That’s inherent, implicit. This city is theirs, after all, and they control what comes in and out. More likely than not, they wrote the letters, shoved them at Two, and they agreed to send them Clock’s way for their good friend Four, who hated them with a fiery passion, although that was neither here nor there.

So either something had happened to Two, which feels like the sort of thing Pin would have mentioned, or Four and Two had a really bad falling out and they refuse to send his and X’s letters anymore. The latter is more likely and more solvable, but he doesn’t know how long Algebrailians can hold grudges. Probably longer than his entire lifespan, and they won’t even blink at the length.

Nothing he could do anything about either way. So he just waits. Talking to Cake instead of staying cooped up in his room all day makes him feel more like a person, although he really does feel like he’s intruding whenever Cake invites him to Goikys and Dragons with Nickel and Naily. Well, it’s less “invites” and more “brute forces” because apparently Taggy is their usual dungeon master, and they have yet to be eliminated, and none of them want to DM, so that apparently means the burden should fall on Clock. If nothing else, he’s a passable DM, and the effort to include him is… nice.

Cake had even apologized. He struggles to believe it sometimes. He had been sheepish and apologetic as he fumbled out a horribly awkward apology, and when Clock couldn’t take it anymore and exploded, yelling to him about all sorts of things whether they were his fault or not, he had just nodded, remorseful as he sat and took all of it. That had really taken the wind out of his sails.

“You’re right,” he had agreed. “We should have remembered. I really do feel awful that we forgot.” He had expected excuses or hollow apologies, but Cake had just kept his head ducked, his cheeks even more flushed than they usually were. “And after, no one had any idea how to talk to you. Me and Eggy talked about it, but everyone else… I dunno. I guess they were too close knit, there was too much baggage, whatever. And then we just never got the chance after the split. That’s not an excuse. I should have at least tried. I really am sorry.”

And then he had stared at him, so painfully earnest it had made something twist in his chest as he cleared his throat and looked away. “It’s fine, I guess,” he had mumbled. “Not like I wanted to talk to any of you anyway. But things are easier now. At least…” He had trailed off, shaking his head, deciding against saying the words that practically always rested on the tip of his tongue, words borne of frustration and bitterness. He didn’t want to watch Cake’s face fall.

Cake had just smiled tentatively, and that was the moment he resigned himself to being dragged around by the other man. The words he had bitten back come back to his mind unbidden. At least you still remember me. That remained true even now, even after Cake would be justified in turning his back on him. After all, he had already apologized, shrugging off his guilt. In that sense, he was free. He didn’t have to deal with Clock.

And still, he stayed. Maybe they were friends. Maybe not. He just hung around with Cake when he had nothing to do. With the lack of letters to respond to, he grew used to passing his days with him and his teammates from Just Not who aren’t missing or still competing.

The day Pin showed up–today, actually, not that he’s been paying attention to that or anything, obsessively monitoring each passed second with a tick of his clock hands–was the day things changed for him. He had been reading a passage from Nickel’s beat up GnD handbook that was on loan to him for as long as he served as DM. In other words, until Taggy was eliminated, but he would ignore the matter of his expendability for the time being.

As he had been awkwardly stammering through a fancifully written sentence meant to set the tone, a portal had suddenly opened next to him. Not too strange, sudden portals was how he got Four and X’s letters, although Clock had an agreement with Two to send the letters to his room, so the portal shouldn’t have been here, in the middle of a common area.

What was more alarming was a pair of spindly hands grabbing onto the edges of the portal forcing them wider. The hands were a familiar shade of blue that made him drop the book and groan. “Of course,” he had grumbled, dropping the book. By now, the three had gotten up and huddled together, their eyes wide, but he was just standing next to the portal, resigned to his fate. This happening just made sense to him, though. If Four stopped being able to get letters to him for whatever reason, why wouldn’t he claw his way into Two’s pocket dimension and get Clock himself?

Algebrailians were obsessively possessive. If Four and X had it their way, they would have never let him go. He supposes he knew that it was only a matter of time until they came back to him, even if it was a knowledge he had never quite put into words. Just as Two is surely holding onto Gaty with all they have, just as any objects who have Algebrailians who care about them will always be held close by them, Clock can never quite escape Four and X.

Four had finished making his way through the portal, jumping onto the carpet with a soft thump. His grin was wide and manic, on the verge of falling off his face. Why was the expression he made when he was happy to see Clock have to be so scary? “Clock!” he had excitedly chirped, scrambling over to him and hugging him with overwhelming strength. It was almost enough to break the screen on his clock face, but not quite. Was it weird that he was kind of honored by the effort to hold back? “Good news, me and X have decided to break you out!”

“Yeah, I figured you would, after the letters stopped,” he had grumbled in reply, kicking his legs slightly in the weight of Four’s tight grip. “Just get it over with already, then.” And then he had paused, glancing over to Cake. “Uh… I don’t think anyone will ask about me, so don’t worry about it, okay? And I’ll be fine either way. It’ll-”

He had been cut off by X reaching through the portal and dragging both him and Four through it, and he found himself yelping at the disorienting feeling. Being swiped into Two’s pocket dimension hadn’t been nearly as nauseating.

And that’s how he ended up here: in Two’s bedroom, squinting at their glassy eyes and distraught face. There wasn’t anything behind their eyes. Their face was just completely, eerily blank as they laid motionlessly in their bed. Crumpled takeout bags were scattered around their room, a few caught in the crevice between the bed’s backboard and mattress. Their eyes were technically trained on a torn photo on their nightstand, but it was obvious their mind was completely elsewhere.

Two looked depressed. No, more than that. They looked like their word had shattered like glass, and they had nothing left. As startling as it was to take it all in, Clock couldn’t help but shoot furtive glances toward Four and X. If anything ever happened to him, would they react like that?

And then he pauses, because he’s Four and X’s Gaty. That’s the only way he wants to put what he has with the two into words. He’s not their boyfriend. That implies mutual love. Not that he should assume what Two and Gaty have with each other, but- that’s not the point!

If they’re like this, does that mean something happened to her? Clock had assumed Two had kept her back after her elimination, holding onto her with tight, overwhelming strength she surely chafed at. Most people would, he assumes. Most people don’t relish in the stifling force of suffocation. But Clock likes it. It makes him feel alive. And pain reminds him of life far easier than other things might. The feeling of being dragged along by Cake to play Goikys and Dragons could never compare to the overwhelming weight of Four and X’s arms eternally wrapped around him.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with them?” he prompts, nose wrinkled. “They look… uh…” Completely despondent is the first word that comes to mind, but ultimately he settles on “...like shit.”

“You don’t need to worry about that!” Four chirps, patting him on the head as he grins widely.

“Well,” X begins, tapping his cheek even as Four glowers at him. “After Gaty was eliminated, they sent her to our kitchen.”

“Not that she could ever replace you,” Four says fiercely, and Clock finds he’s unable to fully bite back a smile as he presses himself against Four. He doesn’t mind the reassurance, that’s for sure. 

“But after the whole yoylelite time travel the world almost ended thing-”

“The what?!” Clock yelps.

“-she was nowhere to be found! And ever since then, they’ve been like this!” He pokes Two’s cheeks with both hands in a steady, uneven rhythm, but they don’t even flinch at the sharp, repetitive motion. They’re just completely unresponsive. It’s disturbing.

“Oh god. Just add her to the list of missing people, I guess,” he mumbles to himself. What the fuck is going on in the outside world? It feels like everything went to shit the moment he was eliminated. “So you two took over as hosts, then?”

“As smart as ever,” Four gushes, and Clock winces even as his cheeks flush. He loves being complemented, but he doesn’t know how to feel about the steady stream of them that always come from the two Algebrailians. He thinks he would prefer for them to be from Winner, not that he’s done anything to deserve it from them. He’s done… less than that, actually.

“We hosted today!” X says, jumping up and down as he cheers. “It was a lot of fun! And then we realized that we can do anything we want, and we wanted to bring you back since Two hasn’t been sending our letters, and it’s better to talk to you directly anyway. So we poked and prodded them until they opened a portal, and Four reached in and got you back! Yay!”

Clock can’t bite back his smile this time. It’s nice seeing two people so earnest and excited about having him here, of all people. Even after all this time, even after the letters stopped, he was never forgotten. At least he has that going for him. Why can’t he be loved by actual normal people instead of these freaks?

“So, now that you’re here, let’s make up for lost time!” Four declares, hugging him and spinning in circles. Clock yelps, kicking his legs in a panic. The spinning makes him almost as dizzy as when his clock hands are on the wrong time, something he regrets telling the two of them about. When he’s set down, he groans, trying to regain his bearings. “C’mon, let’s head down to the kitchen! You can put your chef’s hat on!”

“Well, I can go to the kitchen later,” Clock says slowly. That place might as well be a prison for all the time he spent confined within it, so he’d prefer to avoid it in the meantime. “But now that I’m back, I have some people I’d like to catch up with, if you don’t mind. Your letters were great for keeping me updated-” as if page after page of updates on X’s aloe vera was at all helpful for seeing what the hell was going on with the competition, but whatever. “-but I’d like how to see how some of my friends are doing.”

As he finishes, he balls his eyes closed preemptively, but he can’t help but tentatively open one just so he can eye Four and X. Is this it? Is this when he’ll finally screw up, souring the two Algebrailian’s favor in him in a blink of an eye? Will he be erased from existence by Four once more, doomed to be forgotten? Is this the forgettable, unceremonious ending he was always going to suffer?

Instead, they both just smile at him. They always smile at him, so wide and fond, as if he’s incapable of doing anything wrong. Are those two going to be the only people to ever smile at him like that? The thought makes him feel small.

“Sounds good!” X beams, offering him a thumbs up. “We’ll be in the kitchen, so you know where to find us! Oh, oh! Next episode you can help host, too! Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Four, meanwhile, is the more reserved of the two. “So long as you aren’t gone for too long,” he grumbles, training a glare onto him. “We should be the most important people to you, after all.”

“Uh,” he says awkwardly, glancing over to X, who just smiles. “Y-Yeah, uh, don’t worry about that. A day doesn’t go by without me thinking about either of you. There’s just a few people I want to talk to, and I’ll be right over. Okay?”

“Alrightie!” X chirps. “Oh, Four, I have an idea!” He whisks Four away, grinning widely as he leans forward to whisper something to Four, who brightens and nods. Both he and X are quick to rush off in the direction of the kitchen, giggling like school children all the while. Clock blankly stares after them, muffling a groan with his foot.

Honestly, he’s surprised that they managed to let him go that easily. He expected them to cling to him so tightly they ended up squeezing the life out of him. Maybe the time they ended up spending apart was good for them. It taught the two how to be separated from him. Maybe Gaty could have used it, too. But now she’s missing, and the two never got a chance to talk to each other. A shame. It feels like the two suddenly have a lot in common.

Biting his lip, he throws a glance at Two, who hasn’t moved at all throughout the conversation. They’ve shattered into a thousand pieces, overwhelming grief so palpable it permeates the air, making him nauseous. He doesn’t like dwelling on that feeling. He’s grieved for himself enough as is, because he knows no one else will.

How is it that things managed to end well for Four and X, the more unstable and decidedly less popular of the group of Algebrailians they’ve met, but Two is here completely destroyed by their grief? Is it about the object they chose to love, or is it about them as people?

Maybe it’s just fate. If it weren’t for Two, Clock would have remained with Four and X, the two growing clingier and obsessive with every passing day, and either he would have rotted away under that suffocation, the air forced from his lungs, or he would have found a way to survive, whether he was happy or not. By now he knows he’ll be forgotten if he dies, so he probably would have tried to live. That’s just the end of it.

“What happened to Gaty is your fault,” he whispers harshly. It doesn’t matter what he says here, because why would Two actually be listening in this moment? They’re completely unresponsive, after all. “If you had just let her go, if you had just known better than to cling, if you actually loved her-!”

And then he stops, breathing heavily as his eyes go wide. Ah. What does this mean for him, then? Four and X love him enough to give him space when he asks for it, even if he’s grown so used to existing in this state of suffocation that he barely even notices the feeling anymore. Four and X love him. He’s been… kind of trying to ignore that fact, writing it off as obsession.

But he can never truly understand the two of them. They’re just too different from each other. So who’s to say that they don’t truly love him with everything they have, something going beyond a simple interest or obsession? Who’s to say that their love wasn’t the most an Algebrailian could possibly manage? He doesn’t think he can handle that. Not when he would ever be capable of loving either of them with nearly the same force.

“Ugh, this is stupid,” he mumbles to himself, looking away from Two. Yelling at them is one thing. Staring at their blank, sightless eyes and trying to yell at them is another thing entirely. It’s like kicking a puppy, pointless and cruel. “Sorry, I guess.” Swallowing, he turns on his heel and walks out, feeling awful.

It’s not like it’s a strange thing for him to feel like that. He always feels awful, thinking back on every interaction he had with Winner and shrinking into himself as he cringes so hard he wonders if his face will split under the force of it. But this is a different sort of awful. Why the hell did he yell at Two? There was no point to that. Was he just that bad of a person?

Maybe he’s just afraid. The one other person dating an Algebrailian, was Gaty, who disappeared without a trace and left Two shattered without her. Is this truly the only path available for him to take? At least someone will be bothered by his disappearance this time. At least they’ll notice he’s even fucking gone. At least he can say that he’s loved by someone. If this is what’s destined to happen to him, at least not all of it is bad.

Still, fate is bullshit. And he’ll fight to change things so long as the option is afforded to him. He doesn’t want to be stuck with Four and X for every second of every day. He’ll do what he can to pull away for them even if it lasts just a moment, reveling in the taste of air as it fills his lungs. So long as he’s doing what he can, it’s enough, surely.

Storming through the hallway, he realizes with a start that he… doesn’t actually know where he’s going. Out of his former teammates, Winner, Yellow Face, Bottle, and Ice Cube are still in the game, if he keeps track of who’s in the elimination area and who he knows to be missing. Not a bad showing for any of them. Here’s the issue, though; he can’t talk to Winner and he doesn’t want to talk to Yellow Face, so that really just leaves Bottle and Ice Cube.

He really wants to talk to Ice Cube when he has the chance. They aren’t exactly close. If anything, he worries she sees a little too much of Book in him, sticking his foot in his mouth as he gets far too caught up in his own problems and ends up projecting them onto others. He doesn’t want to be like that. He just gets so caught up with things that he doesn’t realize what exactly he’s doing until it’s too late. It makes him feel awful, watching his own hurt warped and reflected back on Winner’s face, but he can’t exactly stop.

Hopefully Ice Cube doesn’t hate him. He’s already burnt enough bridges as is. He can’t have anything with his old team save for Cake, because they’ve probably forgotten all about how they hurt him by now. He can’t have anything with Winner, because he hurt them, wading up his own, horrible hurt and throwing it at another as if that would ever be able to make things better for him.

Either way, he doesn’t know. He’s aware of the team swap from both Eraser and Pin by now, so he’s not exactly sure where to go if he wants to find Bottle or Ice Cube. Did they end up on the same team? Pin’s frustration made it feel like she didn’t get much choice in the matter, but maybe that was how things worked out for her, specifically. Can he just be told things without having to puzzle out the small snippets of information he gets in his mind? Whatever, so long as he gets to be on his own, he thinks he’ll be-

“Clock?” calls a horribly familiar voice that makes something in his stomach twist into knot after knot as intense, icy fear spikes in the back of his throat, so thick he can barely swallow. Breathing heavily, he turns around, despairing at what he knows to be at the end of the hall.

There’s Winner, their jaw agape, blinking firmly several times over as if they’re trying to double check that he’s actually real. He really wishes he wasn’t, just so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. Cringing, he shrinks back, eyes darting around as he tries to find a way out of here. And still, there’s nothing.

“What are you doing here?” they cry, taking a tentative step forward, seeming almost emboldened by the movement.

“That’s a long story,” he says awkwardly, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Four and X- Well, we’re- there’s- it’s kinda-” He sputters and stumbles over his words, because he doesn’t want to say that he’s dating their two current hosts. That would give Winner the wrong idea, because he doesn’t actually love Four and X, he just likes the attention, and oh, look at that, that makes him sound even worse. He knows it’s stupid to not want to tell Winner he’s dating them, the hesitance rooted in a horribly naive hope that they can still have something, even after he’s ruined it all.

Winner just squints at him, looking hesitant. They don’t move to approach him any further, and with him shrinking back more and more the gap between them becomes horribly wide, just as wide as the distance between them feels even after all the steps he’s taken to bridge it. “What about Four and X?” they warily ask. “With how out of control they were today… Ugh, jeez, is this some screwed up prank by them or something?” They scoff, looking away.

“No!” he protests, before hesitating. “It’s- Winner, I-” He can’t apologize once again having already made himself so vulnerable by bringing himself to apologize once before. He can’t bring himself to be that desperate, in the end. He wants them to forgive him, wants them to love him in a different way than Four and X do. But he can never admit that. It just makes something sour rest in the back of his throat, tasting faintly of bile. “I think X is calling me,” he says hastily, turning on his heel and running away.

Because he can’t help himself, he looks over his shoulder as he runs, meeting Winner’s eye in the process. They look confused, brow furrowed as they watch him leave. They look like they desperately want to say something, but none of the words are coming to mind. He doesn’t know what someone like them could have to say to someone like him. He’s so busy wallowing in his own misery and self loathing that he can’t bring himself to talk to them, and surely they’re capable of realizing that, aren’t they? Whatever he can offer, he’ll never be any good.

If he wanted, he could say so many things to them. Instead, he just throws himself down the hallway, gasping for air as nausea twists in his gut. He can barely breathe. He didn’t want to see Winner at all. If Four and X are going to cling to him with all they have, can’t they protect him from the things that hurt the worst? What else are they good for if they can’t, other than to fuel his own fragile ego?

He runs, and feels stupid and weak and fucking miserable all the while, but running feels easier than standing still. When his feet are never completely planted on the ground is when he feels the most at ease, especially when he’s fleeing from Winner’s glum, confused stare all the while. He can run as far as he can and get away from Winner, but he can never quite flee Four and X. Maybe it’s fucked up that he finds that reassuring…

Clock runs down the hall, the stairs, and out the building entirely, darting around a corner and pressing himself against the wall as he closes his eyes and lets out a long, even breath. It’s better than hyperventilation, at least. He wasn’t remotely prepared to see Winner again, and he needs to take a second to just… breathe. Holy shit, has air always been this nice? Maybe it was just uncomfortably stagnant in Two’s pocket dimension. For as much as they try to appeal to the needs of the contestants, they’re doomed to be clueless about all of it. Maybe Gaty could have helped them learn more, but she’s gone.

She’s gone, and all he’s thinking about is how her presence could have benefitted him. Is he the worst person in the world? Probably. He can’t bear it.

He spends minute after minute pressed up against the wall, breathing heavily as he tries to get his bearings. It… doesn’t really work, no matter how much he forces air in and out of his lungs to remind himself that he’s still real, that he’s still here. It doesn’t work. He’s tempted to blame Winner for his spiral. He would be fine if it weren’t for them. But he knows better than to funnel all of his problems into them, as if they’re remotely prepared to handle that. He’s a bad person, but he’s capable of learning his lesson.

Finally, he grows tired of remaining curled up on the ground, head buried in his knees like it’s the one thing capable of keeping him steady, and with a bit out sigh he raises his head. He’s not doing much else here, so he might as well head to the kitchen. He might as well try to avoid Winner if he can. As he raises his head, though-

“Ack!” he yelps, trying to flinch back only to slam his head against the wall. He locks eyes with a familiar pair of dark eyes which have been trained on him for who knows how long. It’s Bottle, yellow grass and green trees visible through her body. Her mouth is opened in a small, bemused o, eyebrows hiked up her face as she tilts her head. “H-How long have you been here?” he says with a pained hiss, the back of his head throbbing.

“Not that long,” Bottle says innocently, her hands clasped together. “I spotted you walking out here from my window, and I thought, huh, that’s weird! I was pretty sure you were eliminated…” She taps her cheek as she speaks.

“I am. I was? Four and X brought me back,” he mumbles, getting to his feet. It’s a struggle to meet her eyes, so he just stares at the ground instead.

“Why?” Bottle is quick to shoot back, smiling innocently. She’s kind and somewhat airheaded, so she probably isn’t aware of the probing, uncomfortable air her questions have, much less actually intending it. Still, though, he feels each word she utters digging into his skin, leading him to wonder how fast he can ditch this conversation, too. Funny how Bottle was one of the two people he was actually willing to talk to, and now he can’t even manage that much.

“Because they’re insane,” he grumbles in reply, rolling his eyes. “Do I seriously need a reason for it?”

Bottle shrugs. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that!” she says brightly. “Wanna meet some of my new teammates?”

“Pretty sure I know everyone in the game, so it wouldn’t be meeting them, but sure,” he says dryly. Might as well get a sense of who he was replaced with. “Would you believe me if I said no one who’s eliminated has any fucking clue what’s going on out here? It’s been months and the only people who have been eliminated since Nickel and, uh, me have been Eraser and Pin, who aren’t that helpful.”

“Just Eraser and Pin?” Bottle says, blinking. “Huh. Gaty was eliminated too, and she didn’t go missing… Oh, well. Come on, Clock!” She runs forward, gesturing for him to follow after her, leaving him reeling from the sudden whiplash. It becomes abruptly clear to him that no one knows about Gaty. Just the Algebrailians and… him. Ugh, what a responsibility. Should he try to tell people about her fate? Most of her friends have been eliminated anyway, and they can guess what happened to her just fine… Honestly, he shouldn’t even bother.

Either way, he trudges after Bottle. Her infectious enthusiasm doesn’t rub off on him, not in the way he would like it to, but he can’t be unhappy about spending time with normal people. He was stuck with Four and X for months, and everyone in Two’s pocket dimension was a little bit… out of sorts after varying time spent in there. Bottle is eccentric, yeah, but everyone here can be branded with that classification, so that doesn’t mean much.

She leads him through the hotel again, but they stay on the bottom floor. Winner is closer to the top, so unless they tried to go after him, he shouldn’t have to worry about seeing them. Even with that brilliant logic deployed, he still finds himself worried. What would hurt them more, running away the moment he sees them or talking to them and inevitably doing something wrong?

Despite the distinct lack of Winner on the bottom floor, there’s a lot of other people around, with a sort of frazzled energy about them that can only be from a challenge having just ended. Of course, as he slinks behind Bottle, several pairs of eyes turn onto him, following after him. They have such a horrible energy to them that makes him just want to curl into a ball and die. Intense and judging and fuck him, it’s way too much. If this is the reason Winner shrank away from the burden of fame, he sure as hell can’t judge them. In fact, he finds himself judging Loser for not doing the same.

“They’re all staring,” he grumbles to Bottle. “You sure you couldn’t have figured out something else? Something that would get less eyes on me?”

“You shouldn’t worry so much about what other people think about you, Clock!” she says brightly, and he can’t help but snort, because really, has she met him? Instead, he just decides to glare at everyone else with his face scrunched up into the nastiest glare he can manage, because if people are going to judge him for being here, he can judge them for judging him. And if they really piss him off, he can sic Four and X on them and let them be as violent as they want, just because. He’s kind of passed the point where he gives a shit about any of this anymore. If the two of them are going to be in love with him, he might as well get more from it than just attention.

Ignoring the stares isn’t something he’s capable of. In the end, he’s only human. But he tries not to let them bother him too much, because they’ll abate eventually. If it takes even a month for Two to get over Gaty’s disappearance and get back to hosting, everyone else would have gotten used to him. He just needs to cling to that, using it as a shield to shrug off the weighted stares thrown his way. But god, do they have to be so intense?

Eventually, Bottle comes to a stop halfway down the hall, waving toward the familiar faces of Pen and Liy. He’s less surprised to see Pen, but the appearance of Liy is startling even if he knew her and Pencil had been chosen to rejoin the game. They both blink at him, eyes wide.

“Uh… Clock? That is Clock, right?” Pen says warily. The first question is directed to him, but the second is directed to Bottle.

“What are you doing here? Weren’t you eliminated?” Liy says, voice sharp and suspicious as she squints at him.

“Could say the same about you,” he retorts, prompting a glare from the both of them. “So you two are Bottle’s new teammates, huh?”

“Some of them!” Bottle exuberantly agrees, either not picking up on or outright ignoring the harsh tension between him and Liy. “We’re all members of-” And then she hums out some notes as if that’s meant to be a name? “-alongside TB and TV!”

“Hm,” he says slowly. Liy is still glaring at him, and considering what she’s been through in relation to elimination and the more unpredictable set of hosts, she deserves some sort of explanation. He just… doesn’t think she’ll be all too fond of it. “Four and X grabbed me from Two’s elimination area about ten minutes ago.”

“Shouldn’t you know the exact time?” Pen snarks.

“Shouldn’t you mind your own business?” he snaps, rolling his eyes.

“Why would they bring you back?” Liy presses, a sharp look in her eyes as she leans forward.

“Because they’re unpredictable. Shouldn’t you know that, since you’re here?” he says boredly. Pen grabs onto her arm before she can lunge forward, but it’s a near thing.

“We all worked our asses off to escape Four!” she snaps. “What would you know about him?!”

“Other than the time he killed me for no reason and none of my teammates remembered to bring me back for months?! Other than the months on end I spent in that damn kitchen?!” he hisses, standing as straight as he can manage. “I dunno. Not a lot of things, I guess.” He looks away from her with a scoff.

Liy’s expression doesn’t soften in the slightest. It remains harsh and angry, regardless of the uncomfortable way Pen fidgets with his cap beside her and Bottle smiles cluelessly, probably just glad they’re getting along so well. “Whatever you went through, I had it worse,” she says, almost managing to sound bored as she looks away from him.

“Not saying you didn’t. But it’s not worth fighting about either way, don’t you think?”

She looks him up and down, before sighing. “What did you do to deserve an escape while I didn’t?” she mumbles, the words obviously meant for herself and herself alone. Everyone can hear her, though, so the air in the area just grows even more uncomfortable. Clock, for his part, just sighs. He knows he lucked out having Four and X fall in love with him, but being reminded of what exactly they can do just brings him back to his first days in the kitchen all over again, terrified of making one wrong step and dying when there was no one who remembered him enough to bring him back.

Just like the last time.

He’s playing a dangerous game with Four and X, but at least it’s a game he has a chance of winning. Liy and the other EXITors? They never even had a chance.

“I’m borrowing him,” a voice suddenly hisses as he’s grabbed and dragged off in full view of Bottle, Pen, and Liy. The latter two look relieved, while the former looks as airheaded as usual, waving as he’s dragged off. It takes the tedious process of twisting his body around for him to realize that the person dragging him off is Fanny, her jaw grit and her eyes narrowed as she pulls him along.

“Oh, okay,” he says faintly, not trying to fight against being dragged. Maybe he should, but there’s something about the look in Fanny’s eyes, desperate and determined in equal measure, that just makes him want to let her. Guess he’s being borrowed, then.

She drags him down the hallway, up the elevator, down another hallway, and shoves him presumably into her room. She closes the door and slides the lock closed before whirling around to glare at him. He lets out a quiet “eep” at the weight of her gaze, finding himself overwhelmed by it. She’s as prickly and unapproachable as ever, but it has a new edge to it. Something desperate, something terrified. He doesn’t know what could ever rattle her so badly, and he really doesn’t want to find out.

“How close are you with Four and X?” she snaps without preamble, teeth bared as her cord rattles behind her in sharp, erratic movements.

“Close enough for them to bring me back after elimination,” he mumbles. He knows that’s not the answer she wants, and her sharp, angry glare just confirms that. “Fine, fine. I guess we’re kinda… dating or whatever.” He forces out the last three words as fast as he can as he balls his eyes closed. That’s the first time he’s outright said he’s dating Four and X. He’s kind of terrified to see how Fanny will react. Still, though, his desire for attention overwrites his fear, and a moment later, he tentatively opens an eye.

To his surprise, though, she doesn’t even seem phased by the declaration. She just nods, her expression remaining grim. “So they love you.”

“More than I love them, at any rate,” he mumbles, shrugging.

“Would they do anything for you?”

“Fanny.” He trains a flat look on her. “They would bring me a planet if I asked.”

He’s kind of making a challenge out of it at this point, trying his hardest to faze her, but it seems that the thing bothering her is too intense for anything to get her mind off of it. “Good,” she says evenly. She’s silent for only a second, eyes closing before flying open, affixing themselves to him. “Ice Cube is missing.”

The weight of her words catches him off guard and he staggers backward as he breathes heavily, not knowing how to feel. “What?” he says faintly. “When? How? I-I thought-”

“The challenge was today. So was the elimination.” Fanny says abruptly, cutting him off. “Pin and Ice Cube were both eliminated.”

“Well, I knew about Pin,” he mumbles. “She was sent to the elimination area. It’s kind of a big deal when anyone shows up, given how inconsistent things have been lately. But Icy… She wasn’t there at all.”

“Exactly!” Fanny yells. If anything, the confirmation has only made her more wired. “When Pin was eliminated, Four’s arm turned green. From that, I was pretty sure that wherever she was sent was the same place as the rest of you. But when X eliminated Ice Cube, that didn’t happen. I… I have a theory.” All of the previous sentences had been loud, emotional, and explosive, but this sentence is delivered stiffly and painfully, her eyes darting around the dimly lit room in paranoia.

Clock, personally, is still reeling from the fact that whatever happened to Ice Cube, it was perpetrated by X. From Four, he wouldn’t have been surprised, but X? The X who is mannered, cares for the contestants, and is soft and round compared to Four’s sharp jagged edges? That X? He was the one who was to blame for the one person he actually wanted to talk to disappearing? His head is spinning. Still, though, he manages to force out a weak response. “A… A theory?” he asks, voice strangled.

She pauses, chewing on her cheek as she eyes him. “...Can I trust you?”

“We’ve barely spoken,” he says. “Dunno if I would go that far. Dunno if I can go that far. But I want Icy to be safe, so when it comes to her? You can. I swear.”

To his surprise, Fanny cracks a smile at that, even if it is weary and sharp. Fanny’s always struck her as the bitey type, but in comparison to Four she might as well be a pacifist. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then,” she calls as she trots across the room, turning on a light on the way. It’s the only light in the room when the curtains are tightly drawn closed. She stops in front of a whiteboard, although it looks more like a conspiracy board to him, with the pictures and cramped writing.

“What is this?” he says warily even as he cautiously slinks after her. “...One?”

That is what the board says, for the record. In the center of the board is a blue number one, similar to the other Algebrailians he’s met save for the lack of arms. He can empathize. There’s photos of her, all of them involving her hiding from sight in some way, and writing surrounding the picture. The thing that really catches his attention, though, are the drawings of objects on the bottom.

“The missing contestants,” he breathes out, easily recognizing the pattern. Then his eyes flit to the left to where Fanny and Ice Cube are drawn, and his brow furrows as he reads out the text pointing to them. “...Binded?” Fanny just grimaces as she stares at the ground. “Uh, Fanny, what is all of this? It… It has to do with Ice Cube going missing, doesn’t it?”

“Her name is One,” she whispers. “An old friend of Two’s, apparently. She’s been the one taking all of the eliminated contestants. Both me and Ice Cube signed contracts with her. And she was the reason the world almost ended, I’m sure of it.” The look in her eyes is resolute and steely, but it can’t hide her fear.

“See, that’s the second time someone has mentioned the world almost ending, but I still don’t know what that means,” he says in exasperation.

“Well, there was yoylelite, and the failed debuters… Ugh, never mind,” she says, shaking her head to dismiss the topic. “Everything was just too convenient, though. We were pretty sure the whole thing was a diversion to force Gaty into signing a contract, since that’s when she went missing.”

“Okay,” he says impatiently. “So she can kidnap people, almost end the world, and coerce people into signing contracts. But why? What the hell is her motivation for all of this?! I don’t get it.” He scowls in frustration.

“When I signed my contract, she took me away to some sort of…” she begins only to trail off, face wrinkled in frustration.

“Pocket dimension?” he wryly prompts.

“Yeah, that works. It was like a seating room sort of thing, below an oppressive sky and massive moon. She also had a screen, though, and while I was there, she had it on Two. When she wasn’t focused on me, she was focused on them.” She shudders, looking perturbed. “The look in her eyes… God, I can barely describe it. I guess it was like a predator stalking her prey. She wants power, and whatever she’s doing, she clearly thinks she can get it.”

“Ugh, creepy.” he mumbles, imagining the scene in his mind’s eye. He’s more than used to Four and X acting unnerving, but One sounds… different. He really hopes he doesn’t end up crossing paths with her. “...I think this is starting to make sense, though. Ice Cube got eliminated, and the creepy Algebrailian she made a deal with rushed in to take her away.”

“Except that’s not how it was,” she scolds, training a glare onto him. “X was the one who sent her away, remember? And he and Four are a package deal. If she did end up with One, we both know who sent her there!” The longer she speaks, the more angry she gets, to the point where she’s leaning forward and breathing heavily in his face. Her shoulders are squared in determination and frustration. She’s clearly expecting some sort of opposition from him.

He has no interest in living up to those expectations, though. For one thing, she’s right. No matter how he thinks about Four and X, the facts are what they are. Pin was sent to Two’s pocket dimension. Ice Cube wasn’t. Where did she go? If she’s hurt, it’s his job to do something about it. He won’t just let her be forgotten about.

For another, Fanny looks exhausted. This has clearly been weighing heavily on her, to the point where there are deep bags under her eyes and her power cord drags on the floor behind her. Her mood swings are sudden and erratic, and the way she looks at him with her eyes sunken in…

She looks like Clock’s the only hope she has left. Normally, he would be thrilled by that, but the weight of those expectations… He doesn’t know. He feels kind of sick.

“You’re right,” he admits, ducking his head. “They did something to Icy. I don’t care how they feel about me, I can’t just let that go.” He grits his teeth. “I’ll get her back. You have my word.”

“Right, that’s all well and good,” Fanny begins, expression dry. “But do you seriously think you’ll get her back if you just ask nicely?” Her sneer makes it clear how she feels about that idea. “I don’t care how much they care about you, there’s no way One will let that happen.”

“I have to try anyway,” he says stubbornly. “It’s not like they’d ever hurt me, so I don’t have anything to lose.” Fanny’s expression becomes more grim at the reminder of their power in a way that makes him suspect that they hadn’t been exactly… benevolent during their time as hosts.

“I don’t know how you date those maniacs,” she grumbles, words having a vindictive edge to them. He finds himself irritated by her words. What does she know about Four and X? “Aren’t you scared of what could happen to you?” What right does she have to ask those questions? “One wrong move, and you’d be-”

“Of course I’m fucking scared!” he screams, startled by the feeling of tears pricking the corners of his eyes, sharp and stinging. “You seriously think I’m not? I, of all people, know what they’re capable of! Don’t you remember when I was dead for ages back in BFB because of Four?” He pauses, wondering if Fanny would even know about that or care enough to remember, and as she opens her mouth, he just snorts. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. No one on my own team even cared enough to know I was gone in the first place, so why would you?”

He tries to laugh, but the sound just comes out choked and watery. He realizes with mortification that he’s trembling and sniffling, biting his lip to try to stop it from wobbling. He turns away from Fanny, crouching down and wiping frantically at his eyes as his cheeks flush from the embarrassment.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbles, unable to stop his voice from breaking. “This is stupid. You’re right. I’m scared. I have to be. But I’ve gotten to know both of them really well. No matter what they may be involved in, I can always be certain of one thing. They love me. And that has to mean more than whatever deal they have with One.” As he speaks, he turns back to look Fanny in the eye, only for his confidence to waver at her doubtful expression. “I-It has to be enough,” he whispers. “There’s too much on the line for me to doubt it.”

“Does Ice Cube really mean that much to you?” she asks, eying him warily.

“We were friends. Not like I had a lot of those,” he grumbles in exasperation. “And anyway…” Here, he falters, not sure how to put it into words. He can interpret looks as much as he wants, overthinking to hell and back, but in the end there’s always the chance that it’s not right. But still, the way Ice Cube had looked at him as he was eliminated had a way of sticking in his mind, motivating in a way few things were. That was a fire that could only come from a drive for revenge. Maybe she was onto something with that.

“Never mind,” she says dismissively, walking toward the door and unlocking it. “It’s not my place to pry.” She steps into the doorway before glancing over her shoulder. “You coming?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles under his breath, trudging after her. “They’d definitely be in the kitchen.”

“...Which us contestants are banned from,” Fanny dryly concludes, but Clock shakes his head.

“Not me. Come on.” He steps in front of her, leading the way as they head back down the elevator to the kitchen. He knocks on the door and quickly takes a step back, the door swinging open a moment later, slamming against the wall.

“How many times do we have to say you’re all banned fr- Oh, hi Clock!” Four says, mood swinging abruptly in just a few words. He goes from loud and furious to warm and welcoming in a millisecond, and he can tell it gives Fanny whiplash. He’s used to it, though, and just blinks, his face blank. “Come on in! You can try our new menu items!”

Speaking of Fanny… He glances back at her, mulling his options over for a moment before shaking his head. “Stay here,” he decides. “I can handle this on my own.”

A variety of expressions flicker over her face, from surprise to confusion to anger to resignation. “I hate martyrs,” she grumbles in frustration. “So you better make it back in one piece, got it?”

“It’s not me you have to worry about,” he says with a shrug, before turning and following after a beaming Four. He feels like he’s right back at square one as he immerses himself into the familiar surrounds of the kitchen. Everything’s right where he left it, more or less. There are some bags scattered along the floor and the pictures on the fridge have moved around a bit (had there always been One’s silhouette pinned to the fridge, or is that a newer addition?) but the familiar shrine to him remains in place, albeit with a few scattered pictures he thinks are new.

Maybe most would be perturbed by having a shrine of themselves built, complete with a statue twice their size, but he’s grown used to it at this point. He freaked the fuck out when he walked into the kitchen one day and just saw it there, though. To say it was alarming was an understatement. Either way, the shrine was just as creepy as he remembered it being, but he liked having physical proof of Four and X’s devotion to him. Surely that will make things easier for him, right?

(It’s probably his paranoia combined with Fanny’s words getting to him. Still, as he examines the fridge, he swears he sees the One picture briefly sporting eyes. He watches with detached shock as the eyes narrow into a glare at him, before disappearing. Just a figment of his imagination and nothing more.

Still, if he’s pressing himself to Four’s side a little tighter as the number escorts him through the kitchen, that’s neither here nor there.)

“X, X!” Four excitedly calls. “Look who came to visit!”

The other Algebrailian looks up from the food he had been preparing, brightening when he spots him. “Clock!” he calls, running forward and picking him up in a tight hug. He lets out a tired groan at the strength of it. Algebrailians are really into touchy-feely stuff, while he prefers words and compliments and the like. He’s surprised that the two had actually been receptive to that preference, but he does admit he has no qualms about basking in the tide of their never-ending compliments whenever it comes up.

“Hey,” he wheezes. He probably shouldn’t come right into the topic of Ice Cube. Maybe small talk? Do Algebrailians even do small talk? He racks his brain to try to remember, but the only thing that comes to mind is one of Four and X’s stupid fishing trips, the X on the boat cheering in tandem with the X on the line. Ugh, so creepy… “So, uh, what are you two working on in here? Anything new?”

“Well, since we’re now the new hosts of TPOT for now and forever,” Four begins, tapping his cheek. Yup. Definitely a power trip. “We figured we have to be the one to make the cakes for all future Cake at Stakes.”

“That’s what I did today!” X cheers, jumping up and down. “They were really good! Here, when I’m done with this batch, you can try them!” He points a finger to the oven, and for a brief moment it roars with flames that quickly abate. A moment later, something rings, and he turns off the oven with one hand and grabs the cake pans with the other. Clock instinctively grimaces at the lack of gloves, but X doesn’t even seem to feel the heat.

He sets them on the table, and Four is quick to decorate them with a surprising amount of precision, cutting them into even slices and attaching a dollop of frosting, blue sticks he thinks might be Pocky, and a flat chocolate circle dyed blue and white that looks awfully familiar.

Clock gets it when Four sets down a slice on a plate in front of him, both of them training wide, eager grins onto him. The fucking cake is themed after him? Is it cannibalism if he eats it? No, he decides, it isn’t. He skewers a bit of the cake on a fork and takes a bite, only to melt as he tastes it. Fuck, that’s really good. Not that the fact comes as much of a surprise, considering how good their other cooking is. For a species that doesn’t need to eat, they sure do have a sense of what tastes good.

“What do you think?” X prompts, both him and Four leaning forward with eager, hungry looks in their eyes. They soak up any praise he can offer like a sponge, and he supposes he isn’t that better. But their praise always has an edge of meaninglessness no matter how much he enjoys  hearing it, because he could breathe and they would shower him in praise. He wants to feel like he’s done something worthwhile so he can appreciate it. Maybe he just wants to hear Winner- Nope, never mind, he’s decided he isn’t going there.

“It’s great,” he says, voice missing its usual dry, sarcastic edge it takes on whenever he deals with the two of them. “It tastes as amazing as everything you make.” Squinting, he hesitates for a moment before reaching to the small chocolate effigy on top of the cake, popping it into his mouth. Even that tastes good.

“Yay!” X cheers in excitement.

“You sure you don’t notice anything off?” Four asks, leaning against the counter. “Both of us think that our cooking has changed ever since Two-” He growls out their name, which seems kind of cruel considering what they’re going through. “-took you away from us.”

“Yeah, it’s missing something!” X says, frowning. “Nothing tastes the same without you here!” As he speaks, he leans forward to hug Clock tightly, as if trying to assure himself that he’s still real and here. Unfortunately for Clock, the answer to both of those questions is yes.

“Pretty sure you’re just imagining that,” he says wryly. “Glad to know you missed me that much, though. Your letters were nice, but I like being able to… uh… make sure. A-Anyway!” He clears his throat, face red. “I’ve heard from a few friends that Ice Cube was one of the contestants eliminated today.” He notices both X and Four tense, and he has to bite back a sigh. Damn it, why did Fanny have to be right?

“That’s right!” Four says, an audible nervous undertone to his words as he pats Clock on the head. “You’re so smart. Uh…” Both him and X exchange a wide eyed glance, before Four hurriedly continues. “You know, today we-”

“Right,” Clock says dryly, cutting him off. He’s not going to let him change the topic that easily. “So, y’know, I did spot Pin before you guys broke me out of Two’s, uh, area? But I didn’t see Icy at all, which is kind of a shame, ‘cause I wanted to talk to her.”

Both Four and X’s smiles freeze on their faces. “Oh,” grits out the former. “You… did?”

“Yeah. Some competition stuff, some personal stuff, you know how it is,” he says with a shrug.

“You can talk to us, Clock!” X chirps, the picture of earnest. “You can trust us!”

“Sure, I could, but some of the stuff I wanted to discuss relates to her directly,” he says carefully. “I get that it’s kinda annoying to grab her. But you did it for me, so you can do it for her, right? I mean, I didn’t spot her in the elimination area, but I’m sure she’s there. Where else would she be?” Both of them try to avoid looking at him. “Unless something else happened to her?” he says carefully, eying both of them. “I mean, I know there’s been contestants going missing lately, but I don’t know why she-”

“Nope!” Four cries, voice strained as his grimace grows so wide it stretches off his face. “Nothing happened!”

“...Right,” he says slowly when it becomes apparent that’s all he has to say. “So, uh, are you gonna grab her, or…?”

“Well, I dunno if we can,” X says with a frown.

“Why not? If you eliminated her the same way you did Pin, it should be no problem,” he pushes, before frowning at the two’s wide eyed, nervous expressions. Hm, maybe he’s playing too dumb here. He knows full well she isn’t where she should be, after all, and maybe trying to take her back from One will cause more problems then he thinks it will.

Are both of them that scared of One, though? No, that can’t be it. They aren’t looking at him, but they don’t seem that anxious about anything else. Maybe they’re just scared of disappointing him or guilty about lying to him. Something like that. He really shouldn’t be making excuses for the two of them, but he doesn’t want to think the worst of them. Yes, they’re involved with One, and yes, they’re trying to avoid saying anything outright, but maybe…? Ugh, he doesn’t know.

“Listen,” he says slowly. “How about this? I get that you can’t just bring back eliminated contestants willy-nilly. It’ll definitely ruin the competition. So how about an, uh, agreement, I guess? You can send her back when you send me back.”

“But we don’t wanna send you back, Clock!” X wails, clinging to him. “Two’s gonna be out of it for ages!” From him, that could mean anywhere from a few hours to a few centuries. “That means we get to host, and we get to decide who to keep around!”

“Makes sense. And I’m not against that,” he relents. That’s also a pretty easy excuse to not have him sent back at the same time as Ice Cube and see that she isn’t where she’s supposed to be, but he digresses. “Maybe I can decide when she can be sent back, then? Whenever we’re done talking about stuff.”

“That shouldn’t take too long…” Four muses, scratching his chin as he furrows his brow. “Okay!” His voice had initially been deep and growly as he mumbled in thought, but it raises an octave as he agrees. He nods at X, who outstretches his hand. At first, his face is scrunched up in focus, hand still raised, but he stops when Four shakes his head. “No, that’s how you bring back dead contestants, remember?” he prompts. “For her, you’d have to swipe your hand.”

“Ohhh! Right! I get it now!” X says brightly. None of this is really boding well for Ice Cube’s safety, but at least he knows she isn’t dead…? He raises his hand high and brings it down in a blur of yellow, and when his hand goes back to his side, Ice Cube is left standing on the kitchen floor, looking dazed and fearful as her eyes dart around.

“What’s-?” she begins, breathing heavily. “Four? X? Clock? But I thought…” She says his name with the most bafflement, blinking at him several times as if he’ll disappear the next time her eyes open.

“Listen up,” Four growls, leaning in front of her. She doesn’t shrink back, though. Instead, she just glares at him, expression flat and unimpressed. “We brought you back from Two’s elimination area-” He puts such sharp emphasis on the words that anyone can tell that… Well, he didn’t do that. “-at Clock’s request. If you cause any trouble, we won’t hesitate to send you back.” That’s the word Ice Cube flinches at, fear flickering in her eyes as she shrinks back. “Got it?”

“Yeah, I get it.” she whispers, breathing heavily. And, well, Clock should definitely step in so Four doesn’t keep menacing her. For as steely, strong, and unaffected as Ice Cube has the potential to be, she also looks really shaken, and he doesn’t blame her. He can only imagine what she was experiencing.

Clearing his throat, he puts himself between Ice Cube and Four, the latter quickly leaning back and offering him a smile. “Okay!” he says. “Thanks a lot for grabbing her for me, Four. We have a lot of catching up to do, so we should get going, but I’ll keep an eye on her for you…?” Is that the right thing to say here? Anything that gets Four and X’s eyes off of the two of them is the right thing to say here, surely.

Four looks like he wants to say something, but X interrupts him. “Sounds good!” he chirps, patting him on the head. “Come back soon, though! We have a bunch of new recipes we want you to taste test!”

He can’t help but eye the cake themed after him sitting on the counter, and Ice Cube, sharp as ever, is quick to follow his gaze, her expression going all funny and pinched when she notices the chocolate decorations made in his image. “Definitely,” he says after a beat of silence that drags on for way too long, before he swallows and grabs Ice Cube. “C’mon, let’s go.” She sputters in surprise, hesitating, and he throws her a firm look over his shoulder. “...Please?” he tentatively adds.

“Right.” She nods as she begins to trail after him. Any pace they might’ve had, though, is quickly thrown off when she notices the shrine to him and careens to a sudden stop, her eyes going wide. “What the fuck is that?” she yelps, looking startled.

“Not important!” he fires back tensely. “Hurry up!” And then he pauses, eying Four and X. They haven’t moved from their spots, but their eyes follow the two of them in sync in a way that’s really fucking creepy. Leaning in, he whispers “Fanny’s waiting for you, y’know.”

Clock isn’t actually sure if that would do anything, but it seems to light a new fire under her as her eyes widen and she straightens, clearing her throat. “Right!” she says. She throws a wary look back to the two Algebrailians looming near the kitchen counter like vengeful, haunting spectres, and cringes. “Are you sure they’re just going to let us leave?” she hisses.

“They’ll let me leave, and since you’re with me, they’ll let you leave, too,” he confidently replies. “Now can we please get a move on? I don’t like the way the statue they built of me stares at me.”

Snorting, Ice Cube obliges, although he doesn’t miss the way she glances toward the picture of One on the fridge and turns several shades paler. She moves to press herself to his side, but when she brushes against him, she stops, shaking her head and moving away. Either way, when the two make their way out of the kitchen, the door closing behind them, she relaxes, letting out a relieved sigh.

Outside was Fanny pacing back and forth in impatient circles, her brow furrowed and teeth grit, but the moment she hears the door open, she stops cold, head snapping up. She meets Ice Cube’s eyes, jaw falling open. “...Ice Cube?” she says, her voice quiet and disbelieving. “Ice Cube!” She runs forward, the two colliding in a tangle of limbs as they move to hug each other as best as they can without arms.

The two fall on the floor, slamming against the door as they laugh. They actually laugh, pressing themselves tightly to one another. Fanny presses her fan against Ice Cube’s cheek, her laughs light and thrilled. Clock hadn’t thought either of them capable of it. Fanny is so prickly and Ice Cube is so cold, he thought the only mirth they could conjure were small, bitten back smiles.

And yet, there they are anyway, sitting on the ground and beaming at each other. It makes something in Clock fracture just slightly if he wonders if he’ll ever be able to have that.

“I was so worried,” Fanny gasps out the moment she catches her breath, her smile too wide for her to bite back even as she chews on her lip self consciously. “W-When I realized how you and Pin were eliminated, I knew- Are you okay? Did she do anything to you?” Although her words take on a sharper edge, she’s still smiling, their bodies pressed so closely together it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

“I’m fine, really,” Ice Cube gasps out in response, looking like she wants to get to her feet but also doesn’t want to leave Fanny’s side. “S-She- Um…” She trails off, looking away as she chews on the side of her cheek. “Sorry. Can we go to your room or something? Dunno how I feel about being out in the open like this so close to them.” She shoots a resentful look at the closed kitchen door, and Clock grimaces awkwardly. It’s not uncommon to see such vitriol directed at the less benevolent of their hosts, but it feels really strange now that he’s dating them. He feels like a traitor.

“Got it,” she says, getting to her feet and nudging Ice Cube until she mimics the motion, the latter flashing her an exasperated but fond smile. They both make their way down the hallway, but Clock just awkwardly hovers at the doorway to the kitchen. He feels like he’s intruding on the two of them. Besides, Fanny got what she wanted from him, why would she want him around any longer? Things will always be the same for him. The only love he’ll ever get will be from Four and X.

Ice Cube looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow as she catches his eye. “You coming?” she prompts.

Fanny also pauses when she hears her voice, training an exasperated look onto Clock. “Come on, hurry up!” she impatiently calls. “I hate when people drag their feet.”

Oh. Huh. They both want him to come along with them? Even if it’s because he can still be useful to them, he sure as hell doesn’t mind it. A smile spreads across his face unbidden as he rushes after them. “S-Sorry, I was just… thinking.” he says sheepishly. He’d prefer to not put the idea of them leaving him in their heads if he can help it. 

The three rush through the hallways. People are probably aware of Clock being back by now, and with that he can dismiss it as being Four and X’s favorite. Akin to Two keeping Gaty from elimination, even if they might be the only three objects aware of that particular tidbit and able to tell anyone about it. A lot of eliminated contestants have figured out that Two didn’t eliminate Gaty (and Saw’s dejected expression when she realized that won’t fully ever leave his mind) but eliminated contestants are voiceless, worthless, nonexistent. He knows what that’s like, so he’s able to resign himself to it easier.

While they can guess as to Clock being here, Ice Cube’s presence is inexplicable. If it comes out that she’s here, there will definitely be some accusations about bias hurled around alongside requests for more people. Not that Clock is particularly against the eliminated contestants being brought back, since Two’s pocket dimension is cramped when you get used to it, but he doubts having the eliminated contestants brought back would be exactly… productive.

More targets for One, he’s sure. He can only guess as to her motives and actions, having only gotten a surface look at her, but either way she definitely can’t take contestants once they’re in Two’s pocket dimension. Which makes him at risk where he previously wasn’t, but he’s fine with that. If he’s useful enough to be kidnapped, isn’t that kind of a win in and of itself?

Either way, he’d prefer for people to not know about Ice Cube. And if their pace is any indication, the other two have come to the same conclusion. They make it to Fanny’s room in record time, avoiding the elevator altogether, and the moment Clock makes it through the door, Fanny slams the door, the lock clicking into place.

Ice Cube immediately sits down on the floor, and Fanny doesn’t hesitate to do the same, both of them leaning against the wall. After Ice Cube shoots her a few nervous glances, she scoots over closer to her, pressing herself against Fanny’s side. The giddy energy about her doesn’t erase how visibly shaken she is, and she stares at Fanny like she’s the one thing keeping her tethered. Fanny, for her part, just leans into the touch, nodding at her and making no effort to move away.

“God,” Ice Cube whispers. “It’s been a wild fucking day, huh? Between the elimination and…” She swallows and doesn’t finish, looking pained. “It feels like an eternity has passed.”

“Is time different with One?” Clock tentatively asks. “It’s hard for people to keep track of time in Two’s pocket dimension, but I have my clock hands to keep me straight.”

“That’s right!” Ice Cube says with a gasp as she straightens. Although she sidesteps the question entirely, Clock leaves it. “Your clock hands! If I get kidnapped again, I’m taking you with me so I don’t go insane.”

“Don’t just volunteer me for that!” he cries in dismay. “...Besides,” he sheepishly mutters as an afterthought. “Even if I was kidnapped, Four and X would get me back within the day anyway, so it’s a moot point.”

“Even better a reason to get kidnapped with you,” Fanny mumbles. “It would barely last because Four and X are so obsessed with you.”

“They aren’t obsessed with me!” he protests, only to falter at the two’s flat expressions. “Okay, well, maybe they’re a little bit obsessed with me-” he begins.

“People who are a little bit obsessed don’t build shrines filled with pictures and a statue!” Ice Cube scornfully shoots back.

“Wait, they have a what? Is that why they don’t let anyone into the kitchen?” Fanny yelps in shock, head lifting.

“Yes, they built a shrine of me, and no, that’s not their reason,” he deadpans. “I thought we said we weren’t going to talk about that.”

“You said that, but I didn’t,” she fires back, grinning cheekily. “Honestly, Fanny, it’s insane. You should really see it-”

“Can we change the subject?!” he says loudly, cheeks heating.

“Fine, fine,” Ice Cube relents, grinning. Fanny has a lot less mirth about her, throwing glances toward him with a frown etched onto her face. She looks like she’s tempted to say something, but in the end she just swallows and looks away, looking lost in thought. “So what are we going to do now?”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I get it,” Fanny says with a hum. “We were focused on getting you back from One, but we didn’t think about what would happen after. I mean, now we have a man on the inside, so to speak-” She gestures toward Clock, who blinks. “-so we can do what we can to combat One in the moment.”

“Have you told people about her?” Ice Cube asks, an intent glint in her eye. “I think that’s the best way to go about things.”

“I’ve tried!” she protests. “Tennis Ball knows! It’s just-” Something pained and unreadable flickers across her face as she ducks her head. “It’s hard. And did you see the way Four and X looked at us right before you were eliminated and you were talking about telling people? It was awful. I hated it!” She shudders, not as much angry as she is nervous.

“Yeah, I remember,” Ice Cube mumbles.

“If we tried to make One’s presence become common knowledge, she would do everything she could to stop us,” Fanny continues, voice steely and matter-of-fact. “She took you, didn’t she?! I just think we have to be careful about who we tell. People like Golf Ball and Donut? Sure. People like Pencil or Yellow Face? Probably not.”

Ice Cube shrugs. “Sure. You’re right about that. If we had enough time, I would have made a list of the best people to talk to. But One is doing all she can to keep us quiet. Isn’t that reason enough to tell everyone we can?!”

“Not if it hurts us!” Fanny shoots back, her gaze fiery. “We need to be careful! Who’s going to let people know about One if we’re gone?!”

“Um-” Clock awkwardly begins, not knowing what to say but knowing he should probably say something, right?

“What does that matter?! Now we know we can come back!” Ice Cube snaps, gesturing toward Clock.

“Hang on-” he protests, not sure if he likes being used as a prop in this argument.

“You don’t know what One is capable of!” Fanny yells.

“Like ending the world?! I know that!”

“N-No, it’s-!” She cuts herself off with a gasp of air, breathing heavily as she curls in on herself. Both him and Ice Cube exchange wide eyed glances as she begins to gasp for air, neither of them quite sure what to do. Clock takes a step back anxiously. This… doesn’t really involve him, and he has no clue how he’s meant to handle it. Ice Cube rolls her eyes before turning back to her.

“Hey, Fanny, listen, I’m sorry,” she says quietly, head ducked. “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

“It’s- It’s fine,” she gasps out, her teeth grit as she tries desperately to recenter herself. “I just got- overwhelmed. Damn it, I hate this…” She presses one foot against her fan, eyes balled closed. “Listen, Icy. Things with One are really complicated. She’s… tricky. You can never expect things to go any one way, not when she’s involved. I just want you to be safe.” She lets out a pained breath as she slumps against the wall.

“I dunno how you can act like such an expert on her, considering I just spent the better half of a day…” She trails off, her face scrunched up. “Ugh. Never mind. But we have time, don’t we, Clock?” She shoots him a sidelong glance. “There isn’t a time limit on me being here, right?”

“I told Four and X you could be sent back when I was ready for you to be,” he says, shrugging. “So yeah. We have time.” She smiles at him, and he can’t help but smile back. This is nice.

“Good,” Fanny says, letting out a measured breath. “You’re right. We have time. We can think about this later, then, when we’ve had time to calm down. Today’s been a lot.”

“I guess so,” Ice Cube relents, although she’s still staring at Fanny with a searching look, as if she’s trying her hardest to read her. “What about you, Clock?”

“M-Me?” he says, startling at being addressed.

“Yeah. What do you think you’re going to do? You got me back, so what’s next?”

“Well, for as long as Four and X host, I’m sticking around,” Clock declares, confident and definitive. He knows there isn’t a world in which that isn’t the truth. As long as they have the choice, they’ll keep him here. It’ll be as suffocating as ever, a feeling his mind has grown to associate with love. Good or bad, he can’t control what his mind Pavlov's itself into. “And I’ll do what I can to get information from them. Maybe protect people from One, if I get the chance.” 

He grins, but the motion is wobbly and uncertain. It’s a heavy burden to take on, he knows, especially when Ice Cube and Fanny’s faces are pale and drawn with the weight of everything they have to deal with. He’s putting himself in the line of fire and for what? He could stay with Four and X and avoid everything painful in his life, never thinking about his old team and Winner, and he would be perfectly happy.

But what kind of life would it be if he turned his back on everyone else? He doesn’t think he can handle being stuck with Four and X forever. They love him, but their definition of love is different. It makes him dizzy. And he doesn’t think he’ll be able to reciprocate it. He just wants to feel like he’s worth something, like he’ll be remembered. He doesn’t want to be stuck in a one sided relationship forever. He wants more.

(He wants Winner, not that he deserves them. So that’s it, really. That’s all. Either he can settle with Four and X, or he can try to protect his friends. He’d prefer his life to be worth more than something to not just two people, and he supposes Ice Cube and Fanny are as good a place to start as any.)

“Are you sure, Clock?” Ice Cube asks quietly. She hasn’t left Fanny’s side ever since she was brought back, leaning into her like the other woman is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. Fanny, for her part, just stands tall. It’s hard to read her, but Clock thinks she softens around Ice Cube, and she softens around Fanny in turn. “You’ve done enough as is. With saving me. I don’t want you to be put in danger. If One decides she needs to do something about you…” She trails off, shuddering.

“Or worse, if she decides you’ll be useful to her,” Fanny grimly adds. “Who knows why she’s signing all of those contracts? At least her reasons for taking Gaty are obvious. But everyone else?” She shrugs, trying to be nonchalant, but the motion is obviously strained and labored. “Who knows?”

“Well, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out how I would be useful to her, even if Four and X are working with her,” Clock says. He can’t help but puff out his chest as he says that. It’s obvious how he’ll benefit One. For once, he’s finally worth something.

“That’s bad, Clock,” Ice Cube points out, her expression deadpan.

“...Oh. Right. I knew that.” He swallows and looks away from them, cheeks heating.

“Your team in BFB really did a number on you, huh?” Fanny says dryly, and he can’t help but bristle at being seen through so easily by someone he barely even knows.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he petulantly grumbles as he trudges over to sit next to Ice Cube. She rolls her eyes at him as he sits down, but she doesn’t try to move. Even better, she doesn’t try to push him away when he tentatively moves to lean against her. The chill of her body makes goosebumps prickle along his legs, but he kind of likes the cold. He needs reminders of being alive where he can get them. “...You’re probably one of my closest friends, you know,” he whispers after a minute of silence, glancing toward Ice Cube as he speaks.

“That’s really sad,” she declares, and as tempting as it is to try to pick a fight with her to defend what little honor he has… he decides to leave it. He doesn’t want to ruin things like he had with Winner, anyway.

“Maybe,” he mumbles. “But it’s true.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a wreck,” Fanny abruptly groans, causing him to jump. 

“...Sorry?” he says tentatively.

“Don’t apologize!” she snaps. “I just- Well, I guess it makes sense why you’re so willing to throw yourself into this. Do you have any self preservation at all?”

“He’s dating Four and X. The answer to that question is obviously no,” Ice Cube interjects before he can answer, and he stews in his embarrassment as his cheeks flush.

“I can leave. If you want.” he whispers tentatively, even though he doesn’t want to. He wants to stay with Ice Cube. He wants to have this.

“You’re fine, Clock, really!” Ice Cube snaps, voice drenched in exasperation as she eyes him. “Are we not allowed to poke fun at you?”

“No, it’s fine,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. That’s a pretty good indication of friendship, isn’t it? Casual teasing with someone else? He doesn’t know. He wants to find out. First he’s gotten acquainted with the feeling of love, and now he’s figuring out friendship. Most people do it the other way around, but at least he’s trying, right? “It’s just… a lot. All of this is a lot for me. Today’s been long. You can’t blame me for being overwhelmed, can you?”

His tone is dry and dismissive, but it’s undercut by him pressing himself closer against Ice Cube, who just shrugs in response to his question. He’s so cold. He’s so alive. This is all he could ever want. Maybe friendship is just another type of love, a type he feels capable of actually reciprocating.

“This is nice,” he whispers, voice wobbling as he admits the fact. If he’s too vulnerable, will he lose this?

“Yeah,” Ice Cube agrees, the sound hushed. From there, they fall silent, the sound warm and companionable. There’s still the weight of One hanging over them. For now, though, they can cast it aside and just be happy with what they have here. That’s what he hopes, anyway. Maybe it’s naivety born out of weariness.

Or maybe, it just might be possible.