Actions

Work Header

Pajama Pants put on wrong

Summary:

This story is written by a Goldfish who had to go through the struggle of having a lack of father figure and coping with having a step-dad!

In this story, Paperjam is neglected by his parents! Ink, not on purpose, Error, very much on purpose.
Now Error wants to make amends with Paperjam, with the encouragement of Nightmare!
Nightmare is a good step-dad, Error has a LOT of making up to do, and Paperjam is a little shit.

(Yes gradient is in this too, this poor baby is always left out)

Notes:

None of these characters actions or behaviors are canon in anyway!
I try to mix Fanon and Canon personalities together or just make up my own for characters who are made by the fandom.
None of these characters are made by me! :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Can you hate someone you never knew?

Chapter Text

Paint smeared together into a muddy mess of colors, the tips of his bony fingers moving in no distinct pattern or purpose. There was no purpose to this particular painting, no meaning, and no intention for it to ever exist. Much like himself, he thought.

Though there was one reason he could think of: avoidance of an awkward conversation between a deadbeat and his accidental creation. Paperjam, a name nobody else knows besides two people: Ink and Error, a pair known for their fighting and on-and-off relationship. A relationship filled with hate and false love that created a soul filled with the same hate and false love they felt for each other.

So, this resentment for the two matched the theme, he guessed.

“…WhAt a- aaaree. You PAINTING! ..?” Error asked, breaking the tense silence that held thick in the air, almost suffocating. The question was answered with a huff from Paperjam, who continued to smear colors together. The mess never bothered him, not that he needed to be presentable anyway. Nobody stuck around long enough for him to care.

“…Listen ..Jammy!” Paperjam looked up at that nickname, in Ink’s voice no less. Error had no voice of his own, he learned later on, and instead mimicked bits of conversations that already existed. Error never enjoyed mimicking Ink’s voice, so he never said his name, let alone a nickname. It’s hard not to, though, when only one other person knew he existed at all. Instead, he’s called “abomination,” apparently a word said by many people.

The cringe didn’t go unnoticed, but Error continued, “I haVEEE— a NEW! Place NnnnOW- now—“

“Besides the Anti-void??” Paperjam asked with a raised brow. “What AU did you steal this time and call a ‘new place’?”

“Actually,” Error grinned softly, “I mmmETtt- Met. Someone…” Oh great, a new messy relationship to add to the mix. “And H- heeee— He OFFered Me A PLLL- Place to STAY!!” Paperjam rolled his eyes. “Okay. Why should I care?” He made sure to make the tone as bitchy as possible.

“…W- Welllll!” Error put a hand on his shoulder, making Paperjam tense a bit. Error had never willingly touched anyone before, so this was beyond new to him. “I WanTED to- ttttoo— Ask you IF! You wanted To LIIIII- Live There T- toooo.” Error motioned towards the ceiling of endless papers and yellow hues. “Away from THI- Thissss- …Place.”

Paperjam softened his glare and stared in pure shock. “…what?” The hand left his shoulder and instead cupped his head, a tingly feeling going down his body. A sense of longing or want filled his soul, but he pushed it down.
Being vulnerable in a world like this is dangerous.
People give you scraps of hope to survive on and beat you when you ask for more, regardless of the amount. “Jammy—“ Paperjam shoved the hands away and scooted farther from Error, who only sighed. “..Paperjam! ..I’m sorry..” “Ha! You?! Sorry?!” Paperjam scoffed. “When are you ever sorry?” Error let out a wince, and then there was only silence, somehow even more tense than before.
After a period of time, Error decided to open his mouth again, which annoyed Paperjam even more. Can’t the guy just leave him alone? He was good at it before! Why does he suddenly want to be a parent?

“…Jammy!!” Paperjam glanced at him. “I’m sorry. I’veeee— Been a Terri- iblee Father FigURE To yooo- You- and Never Once have Bee— been. What you Deserve.” Error gave a gentle look, foreign to his face. “But, I- iiii Would like Ttt— to be. Maaaa- Make Up fffffooor— For it, Take you Away fffom Here.”

Paperjam sat in silence, unsure whether to feel angry and hurt or happy to leave this place. His mind went blank, and he didn’t know what to say. What could he even say? “Oh yes! I accept you as a father even though you abandoned me and never acknowledged my existence until just a few days ago! And when you were ‘forced to deal with me,’ you would ignore me or throw me back into ink’s stupid void!!”
No, he couldn’t, not unless he wanted his soul obliterated. Instead, he sat in silence and stared at his muddy mess on the paper, becoming aware of the dried paint on his phalanges.

“..You don’t HAVE!! To Forgiveeee Me,” Error said softly. “But I’m HAPPY!! To Eeee- Earn it.” Error was met with more silence. With a sigh, he got up. “I’ll let YO— you. Think About ittt- It,” he said before opening a glitched portal and stepping through.

Paperjam was alone once more in the yellow-hued void, the sounds of rustling papers the only thing keeping him company, but he was used to that.
.

 

.

 

.
He couldn’t remember how long it had been since Error's visit. It felt like months, but everything felt much longer than it actually was. Loneliness does that to a person—gut-wrenching loneliness that festered in his body and ate away at his soul.
Sometimes he wondered if anyone would care if he one day dusted away. Dust-covered clothing was the only evidence left of his existence.

With a sigh, he lay on the floor and stared up at the sea of endless papers. Ink had told him stories of those AUs and how one day they just started making themselves, sort of.
Error always hated them, calling them “useless timelines that branched off another and another.” A part of him wanted to see what those worlds were like… Were they different from his own?
They weren’t a void like this place; no, Ink had told him of places called “Snowden” and “Waterfall” and how beautiful they were.

Oh, how Paperjam would love to visit them… But that’s just a distant dream.
He had thought about asking a few times but was afraid he’d be dumped there forever when Ink forgot or Error got bored of him. He had been forgotten in this void plenty of times, the same for Error's Anti-void.
So, he felt that was evidence they’d leave him behind in a random AU too.

The sound of splashing made him sit up in an instant. Ink popped out of one of his paint portals, his face full of glee. "Oh, hey, Jammy! When'd you get here?" Ink crouched in front of him with a look full of wonder, which made Paperjam mad.
"...I never left, Ink," he spat with a glare, but that didn't change Ink at all.
He never took anything seriously, whether that was due to a lack of soul or emotion, Paperjam didn't know nor did he care. "Oh, right, right! I forgot." Ink patted his head before tending to his pages, leaving Paperjam to either watch or ignore him.

After a while, Paperjam thought about Error's offer and his own feelings. He hated this place, sure , but would Error's new home be any better?
Well, he guessed anything is better than a literal void. Paperjam stood up and walked closer to where Ink was, who was about to leave... wait. Leave?!
In a panic, Paperjam shouted, "Dad, wait!!” yanking on Ink's scarf before he could jump into his paint portal. Ink turned his head with a grin. "Oh, Jammy! Hey!" He looked at his scarf and raised a brow. "Why are you yanking my scarf? Did you need something, Jam? I'm all ears!"

Paperjam huffed. "We need to talk, Ink." "Well, I said I'm all ears!" With a huff, Paperjam crossed his arms. "Well, I wanna live with Error now—"

There was a moment of silence before Ink blinked. "Oh! That's all? I thought there was more." "Wha—" "Well," Ink interrupted, "if that's what you want, go for it, Jammy! I don't know why you want to hang around the glitch, but if that's what you—" "That's it?" "Hm?"

Paperjam's eyes widened in anger that just kept growing. "The guy you HATE, known for destruction and death, and all I get is an 'Okay?!'" Ink only tilted his head a little as he grinned. "... Yes? I mean, it's what you want, right?" Stunned, Paperjam glared with clenched fists. "... Yeah. It's what I want."

"Okay!" Ink shrugged. "If that's what you want, I can take you there now!” “Wha—“

Paperjam was soon grabbed and yanked into a paint portal. His eyes met endless white and blue strings hanging from the ceiling.

“Wha—wait! Ink, no—“ “If that’s all, Jammy, I gotta go help some AU from the ‘bad Sanses’! Haha! That’s a silly name, 'bad Sanses'—“ Paperjam started to run, but Ink was gone.

Falling to his knees, he slammed a fist into the floor and screamed in anger. He was just dumped here! And Ink didn’t think twice, nor did he care. Great, this was just perfect.

Paperjam curled into a ball and lay there, tears collecting in his eyes as his emotions toppled over. Error wasn’t here either; no, he lived somewhere else! He let out some hiccups and sniffles as he cried into the endless void. No need to hide when nobody was there, right?

A hand on his shoulder made him jump up, his teary eyes widening. Wasn’t he supposed to be alone?
“Apologies, I did not mean to cause further distress…” the goop-covered skeleton said, his voice smooth and almost chilling. Paperjam sniffed and scooted a bit away. “…who are you?”

“Oh, yes. I am Nightmare,” he addressed. “I already know of you, Paperjam. Error speaks fondly of you.”

Ah, so this is the boyfriend? Paperjam cocked a brow, almost amused.
“…Oh, so… you’re the guy?”
“I’m the guy,” Nightmare echoed with a slight nod.
Paperjam grinned nervously and wiped some of his tears. “Have… you been here the whole time? Or—”
“Not the whole time, no,” Nightmare looked fondly at him. “Though I sensed your distress and grew quite worried. Are you alright?” He looked around. “…and why are you here? I thought you stayed in Inks… wherever that paint freak lives.”
Oh yeah, this is definitely Error’s boyfriend.

Paperjam sniffed. “I was dumped here by Ink.” With a huff, he continued, “After I said I wanted to stay with Error—I guess he doesn’t know about the… arrangement.”

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully. “I do not think he would remember if he were told, am I wrong?” Paperjam could only sigh. “...yeah… that sounds about right.”

Another hum followed before a portal opened up. “Well then, I suppose we need not waste time here.”
Paperjam couldn’t help the immediate dread that filled him. Was he going to leave him? “Do not worry,” Nightmare spoke out, almost as if he sensed his distress. “You said you wished to live with Error now, correct?” A nod followed. “After you then.” Nightmare gestured to his portal, which looked to be made of literal nightmares—oh, the name makes sense now.

With a hesitant step forward, Paperjam walked into the portal and was met with darkness. He felt like he was floating in water, the air suddenly gone as feelings of dread filled his lungs. Overwhelming loneliness crawled up his body, leaving him lost to it, mind blank yet full of grievance. The darkness around him caressed his bones, and he welcomed it with open arms. A cool hold that felt dreadfully peaceful, a calming sadness that held his soul tight.

In an instant, that fall faded, and he was left standing again. He shut his eyes to the sudden light, his eyes slowly adjusting to this new environment.
"I apologize for the... inconvenience of my portals," Nightmare spoke. "They tend to be... unnerving to most."
"Nah, it's fine..." Paperjam said while looking around.

He saw a large rectangle-shaped object with fancy-looking chairs surrounding it - a long table, he guessed. He had only ever seen small ones in Ink's paintings; in fact, he only knew most objects because of those paintings and Ink's constant rambling about AUs .
A fancy rug, with purple tones and intricate designs, lay underneath the table, colors matching perfectly in some strange harmony. They must be in some sort of dining room, judging by the silverware and , for some reason, a very expensive light hanging from a tall ceiling.

".. .What, are we in some kind of castle?" Paperjam snorted. "The light is giving off royalty vibes."
Nightmare looked up at the light too. "Well, yes, I suppose it is royalty-like. Though, that is not this particular type of castle." Paperjam snapped his attention to the skeleton. "Wait-this is a CASTLE?!" He looked around in awe. "NO WAY! That's so cool!!"
Nightmare smiled a bit. "I am glad you think so-" "NIGHTmare!!-"

Error came rushing in a panic. "NIGHT! I CANnnn- CAN' TTT!! F- ffff-find JAMMY!!" "Err—“ "He wasNTT- in INK!sssss v- vvvOID!" Error glitched slightly as he paced back and forth, lost in his panic. "I wweENT to that Paint freak-and AND He di- di- DIdn't REmemBER- where he Left Jammy!"
"Error—"
"That StuPID ABOMINATION—“
"ERROR."
"WHAT?!"

Nightmare used a tentacle to point to Paperjam, who stared, stunned, at Error. Was he... worried about him? Paperjam didn't know why that made his soul feel warm; he shouldn't feel this way. Error was an arrogant bastard, not a caring mother hen!
Error sighed in relief and walked over as if he wanted to hug him, but he faltered and instead patted his head lightly.
"You had haaadDDD- Me Worried..." Paperjam only scoffed. "Mmhm."

Error sighed once more, receiving a knowing nod from Nightmare. "...I am GLAD! You chhhh- Chose to Stay! Jammy..." Error smiled softly. "How abb - About we go to Your NEW! Room..? We Can mmm- Meet! The Others Later"
Paperjam raised a brow. "...others...?"

Nightmare and Error looked at each other, almost as if they were having a conversation with their eyes. After a few furrowed brows and sighs, they looked to Paperjam again.
"Yes, 'others.' I suppose Error forgot to tell you all the details, such as 'the guy' living in a castle," Nightmare said, raising a brow at Error, who gave a sheepish smile in response. "Those others," Nightmare continued, "are like brothers to me. They live here in my castle, but there is one..." "Don't."

Error sighed. "Not Yet- Pppp- Please?" Nightmare nodded. "Alright, but you will have to—" "I knnOW , Night. I Know"
Error looked at Paperjam. "Let's GO! Ttttooooo- Your NEW! Room"
With that, the two walked away from Nightmare and down a hallway in silence, the tension so thick you could cut it. Paperjam wanted to ask a million questions but refrained. His gut was screaming that something was wrong and he felt this situation was much more complicated than it seemed.

Error stopped in front of a door. "Here we aaa- Are" Paperjam stared at the wooden door; he had never seen anything beyond a door and had no understanding of what a "room" was. He had heard it had four walls and a door, but nothing beyond that.
His curiosity grew as Error opened the door, revealing a large bed and two mini tables beside it. How many sizes can a table come in, exactly? This feels like too many.
Paperjam stepped in with hesitance and looked around the room. Another door was on the left wall while two double doors were on the right wall. How many doors does a person need, seriously? This room screamed fancy, but this is a castle, so he guessed it's right on theme.

"This will be Yyy-your NEW Room.." Error said. "There Issss- a Bath-Room And a Closet. We can Dec- Decorate soon Soooooonnn- If You'd Likeee?"
Paperjam patted the bed; the covers were as soft as they looked. He had never laid in a bed before, only makeshift ones that Ink created. "Yeah... okay."

"Error! Finally, I found you-" Paperjam turned to the new voice. The skeleton had black tears leaking from his sockets, and his soul was a target shape. He must havebeen one of the "others," though he didn't look related to Nightmare at all.
"Gradient was wanting you and—“
“KILLER!" Error shouted, summoning his strings. "You Can' TTT- be HERE!"
Killer blinked. " What? Why no-" He locked eyes with Paperjam. " Ooooh, shit."
Paperjam's brows furrowed as his gut started to hurt worse. "...Error. What's going on?" He looked around Error and saw another Skeleton, who was black like himself and wore large round glasses. Strange blue details were on his face; he looked like-

"Dad?" The skeleton said, looking confused and nervous at Error.

Paperjam felt his blood boil. "DAD?!"

Chapter 2: Replace the old with the New

Summary:

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS:
Mentions of suicide!
Sorta suicide attempt… or at least a brief moment of it.

Funfact:
Error is able to give touch better than receiving it! He feels comfortable being touched or touching his children though :)
Nightmare helping him get comfy with it

Notes:

Daddy issues at its finest!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"DAD?!"
.

 

.

 

.

If it weren’t for Nightmare’s intervention, Paperjam would have killed Error.
The moment he saw Gradient and heard the 3 letter word all hell broke loose.

One moment, Paperjam was slamming Error into a wall, and in the next, he was being held down by the Killer guy while Nightmare consoled a rebooting Error.
After that, well, someone made tea and the three sat together in the dining room Paperjam had first seen.

Paperjam gives this first impression five stars! For being a total disaster.

Paperjam sat across from Error, who was picking at his fingers and eyeing his tea. A deep glare full of hate watched Error’s every movement, arms crossed as his tea was left untouched.
He wasn't thirsty for tea; he wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

A sigh broke the silence. "Now, does someone want to begin this conversation, or do I need to?" Nightmare asked with furrowed brows. "It seems to me that there are a lot of things that have not been told."
Paperjam barked out a laugh. "Yeah , you got that right."
Error huffed. "It WASN' ttttt- That Simple-" "How old is he?" Error blinked. "Wha-" "How. Old. Is. He?" Paperjam asked again, his glare only deepening.
With a sigh, Error answered, "..Ten."

Paperjam just stared for a moment in disbelief. "...So. You mean to tell me," he let out a huffed laugh, "that when I was six-" "Jammy-" "You had another kid?!" Error's fists clenched. "It wasNT! by Choice- it WAs an Acccc-ident!"
"What?" Paperjam felt his grin growing. "Like me? How's that any surprise? The great Error can't NOT fight with anyone, including some goop- covered octopus thing!" Error stood up and hit the table so hard it cracked. "ITss INK'S!!”

Silence held thick in the air as Error stood with his fists still clenched on the table. Paperjam was a bit stunned, but not by much. This sounded more accurate for the two-another fight, another accident.
Though what Paperjam couldn't piece together was, "Why did you keep him... and not me?" The question was met with more tense silence. How could anyone even answer that?

A child left alone in favor of another was as cruel as it sounded. Nobody wanted to take the blame for that sort of choice, a choice made by someone who was supposed to love you, stay with you, and not abandon you.
But even those we come from can be the ones to break you, no matter the consequences that will follow them into the darkest pits of their minds.

"So what?" Paperjam started. "He's my replacement or something?"
Error sat back down. "Paper-"
"Really, what is so different about him?! We're made by the same guy you hate! Look almost the same-" Tears pricked at his eyes. "Is it because he's younger? Not an adult or whatever?!"
"Paperjam-No," Error sighed. "...I Haaad Met NightMARE! A millennium ago! And... He ConVinccccED Me-TttO Keep... Gradient."
Paperjam sniffed and wiped some of his tears, still avoiding eye contact.
Error continued, "...Nightmare... Changed ThhE ShhhapE Of My Soul. I was Cruel-a bit of Aaaaaa- Man-baby Loser! Now I WAnt To be Thh-there For You, Jammy!"

"...I don't believe you." Paperjam spat out. "You've lied before and you'll do it again-" "I Know," Error stated. "...I WAnt To Earn Yyyy- Your Trust. NOoo Matter How long It TaaKes."
Paperjam eyed him before taking his cup of tea. "...Whatever gets me out of that stupid void, I guess."
Nightmare hummed. "We will have to teach you how to make portals. If you possess the same ability your parents do, I believe you can do it on your own." Paperjam spat out his tea. "I could do WHAT?!" Nightmare eyed Error. "... You really need to work on telling important information like this, especially to your own son."

Error sipped his tea while avoiding eye contact, sweat beading on his forehead. "Alright... now that we have this settled," Nightmare stood up. "Would you like to meet Gradient? He's a bit quiet but super friendly..."
Paperjam rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Sure, sure, let's meet my replacement. Make the sting into a wound, why don't we?"

Nightmare raised a brow but said nothing, though he feared deep down this would lead to more problems in the future. Instead, he looked to the doorway and seemed to be eyeing it.
"...Gradient," Nightmare said calmly. "Come in here, please. You forget I can sense your worry."
After a moment, the same skeleton child poked his head around the doorway.
Paperjam raised a brow with an annoyed expression. Gradient looked like Error; he couldn't lie about that. Round glasses similar to Error's red ones, blue markings on his face, yellow and red eyes-the kid looked like a younger Error with a few modifications.

Paperjam watched Gradient walk in while trying to stay hidden inside his hood, his glare deepening as he got closer to Error, his dad. He couldn't help but feel jealousy and utter disgust eating at his soul. The brat needed to hide behind Dad? How fucking pathetic is that!
Gradient hesitantly grabbed Error's sleeve and avoided eye contact with everyone and everything, almost like a scared kitten.

Error looked between Gradient and Paperjam, as did Nightmare, looking like he was on death row. Hesitantly, he patted Gradient's head and spoke as softly as he could, "Hey Grey.. I WaNT you to Mmm-meet someone." Error gestured to Paperjam, who kept his scowl. Gradient peeked and gave a small wave, almost like he was used to scary-looking individuals...
or maybe Paperjam wasn't as intimidating as he thought.
Paperjam rolled his eyes. "So you're my replacement? Tsk." "Paperjam," Error scolded, to which Paperjam only huffed out a "What?”

Tense silence enveloped the room again, making Paperjam wish he was back in the Anti-void or Ink's void, just away from here! At some point, Paperjam felt something inside him snap as he stood up. "Fuck this! I don’t need you or this stupid, whiny brat. So stay out of my life!" Before anyone could interject, he stormed out of the room.
.

 

.

After a few minutes of walking, he realized he had no idea where he was going. He couldn’t storm into the room he was given; he had no idea where it was! Maybe a castle wasn’t as cool as he originally thought; hell, it was a maze!

At some point, Paperjam just sat on the floor in one of the many thousands of hallways, with his head resting on his knees. The dim lighting barely did anything to fight the shadows, although it did seem to match the goop guy’s theme. Dark and mysterious… and he sounded like royalty; no wonder he had a castle.

The longer he sat there, the more Paperjam thought of his life.
Fifteen years he’d spent his days wondering why he wasn’t good enough to be loved by somebody who was supposed to. He had read some books and coloring pages with fathers and mothers holding hands with their children, smiles on their faces, but compared to his own life, he didn’t see that. No, instead he experienced fighting or just plain being ignored.

And the more he thought, the more his rage grew. Why was Gradient so special?
Why did Error choose that brat over him anyway?
Was it because Error had already messed up Paperjam enough that he just decided to replace him with his next mistake? Sounds fitting.
He wanted to impress his new boyfriend or whatever, so he kept Gradient, and now he’s after Paperjam.
Great, just great; of course there wasn’t any love behind this act! It was pure insincerity.

With rage came tears, and with tears came the overwhelming wave of loneliness and grief. Can someone really grieve the loss of something they never had? A life they wished they could have lived if, maybe, just maybe, he had been created by different people.
Maybe he would have had normal parents and maybe he could have made friends! He hears about other skeleton kids, but he has never put a face to a name.
Paperjam tried to wipe his thick tears away, hiccuping as he sobbed quietly. He was angry, upset, and jealous, all emotions colliding with each other at full speed. It was unfair, so unfair!
Why was his life like this?! Why him? Out of every other being in the universe, out of every AU and every timeline, why him?

He blinked as he glanced toward the lights that suddenly blew out. The hallway was consumed by shadow that kept building until it formed a person.
Paperjam curled himself more against the wall, having never experienced total darkness before, though he still felt like a big baby for being scared of the dark.

“Apologies, I did not wish to frighten you.” Nightmare looked down at Paperjam, who glanced up at him; his face was full of concern. “...Are you alright?” With a scoff, Paperjam wiped his tears. “Just fine, thanks.”
Nightmare raised a brow before sighing. “...Do you need help to your room, Paperjam?” He wanted to say no, but sadly he did need help. So he got up with a groan, wiped the remaining tears away, and mumbled, “Let’s just go-”

Nightmare hummed in response and offered a hand. “Come along then.” Paperjam eyed his hand as if it were the most disgusting thing in the world; with a scoff, he walked past Nightmare. “I don’t need to hold your hand; I’m fifteen, not three.”
Nightmare watched him walk for a moment before following. “I am aware of your age. Though you did seem frightened of the dark... I will have to relight those torches; apologies.”
Paperjam huffed. “I’m not scared.” Nightmare gave a skeptical look before humming in acknowledgment.

The two walked in silence for a while, the tension only growing as Paperjam felt Nightmare’s gaze on him. This guy was crazy weird now that Paperjam thought about it. Watching him appear from literal shadow and being covered in strange goop—yeah, he’d checked all the boxes for “weird” in Paperjam’s book.
After a moment, Nightmare spoke up again, much to Paperjam's annoyance. “Are you alright?” he had asked for what seemed to be the millionth time; Paperjam left him with the silent treatment.

“No one is mad at you for your outburst; it was warranted,” Nightmare stated. “It is hard to accept this change; I understand—” “How do YOU understand?” Paperjam spat. “Did your parents leave you to rot in a void?”

Nightmare wasn’t fazed by his words, not that Paperjam cared if he was or not, though he paused in thought.

“…No. I did not have traditional parents, unless a tree counts as one,” Nightmare said, looking at Paperjam. “However, I understand what it is like to accept change or give basic trust.” Another moment of silence followed, almost as if Nightmare was choosing his words carefully. “My twin brother and I.. are not as close as we once were, due to the person I became and a misunderstanding. I was once a being of negativity, and I hurt many people for centuries.” He paused for a moment, before continuing. “However, when I met Killer, he changed me. Along with the rest of my boys.. and it was hard to accept the change of being something good rather than bad.”

Paperjam looked skeptical at him. Why was this guy telling him a sob story? I guess he’s supposed to feel sympathy or something?

“I am not telling you this for sympathy.” Holy smokes, can this guy read his mind? “I am telling you this,” Nightmare started, “because the hardest thing to accept is change for any being. Error has changed from the destructive being he once was, as have I. Though I understand it is hard to forgive after being hurt for so long..”

Paperjam scoffed with an eye roll in response to that. Nightmare paused for a moment before straightening his posture. “Whether you believe it or not, he does plan to make up for his wrongdoings and does not ask for forgiveness right away; however…” Nightmare put a hand on Paperjam’s shoulder, which made him tense up.
“Do not put the blame on Gradient. You can feel jealousy all you’d like, but you will speak to him with respect, as he will to you.”

Paperjam shoved his hand off his shoulder. “Don’t touch me! And don’t tell me what to do; you aren’t my dad! As if I’d listen to you!” Nightmare’s tentacles whipped rapidly for a moment before stilling. He let out a sigh and gestured to a door. “This is your room. One of my boys will call you for dinner.” Paperjam rolled his eyes and walked into the room. “Yeah, okay,” he said before slamming the door in Nightmare's face. The same empty feeling entered his soul when he did.

Paperjam was tired, mentally and physically. He was tired of being angry and upset; his soul wanted to be happy and content, though his mind just wouldn’t let him. He was hurt and had nothing but loneliness for comfort.
With a huff, he lay on the bed, curling up and staring through the wall. Tears collected in his sockets and fell onto the bedding.

He felt nothing but hatred for everything: for Error, for Nightmare, for his replacement! Even himself—oh, how he hated himself. He hated why he was made, how he was made, and just plain existing. It felt useless to exist, merely being alive to be ignored or not even known by anyone else.

After a moment, Paperjam took out his soul and stared at it. His soul was a bit glitched and dim, but it was full of many colors—a rainbow of light unlike his personality. The thought of ripping it apart crossed his mind multiple times; like father, like son… ripping their souls apart to become somebody. Maybe a fresh start was what he needed… an escape from this body and a way to the next life.

Paperjam squeezed his soul before he quickly sat up and shoved it back inside his rib cage. He sighed and stared at the wall, chuckling lightly.

He really was a coward.

Notes:

……

Chapter 3: Grieving something you never lost

Summary:

This chapter contains
BLOOD
BROKEN BODY PARTS
Implied suicidal thoughts
Violence

When you wanna explore an abandoned area only to break your arm, argue with your dad! Fight your brother.. And almost die.
Wowie what a day!

Notes:

When one day can change the entire course of your life!
.

 

.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It’s been a few weeks, give or take, since his first day here. After a couple of dinners and bumping into the other residents in the castle, he has come to a conclusion.
Paperjam hates people—a lot. Especially those homeless-looking skeletons the Goop guy had decided to keep and let live here. He met them all at dinner that first night, and immediately they all gave him red flags.

Horror, from HorrorTale Ink, seemed like a nice guy and all, but that hole in his skull threw him off. He also heard from Ink that he ate humans and convinced everyone else to do the same! But compared to the rest, Horror seemed to be the most sane.

Killer Sans was mentioned once or twice by Ink, something about “having a lot of fangirls”—whatever that meant. The guy seemed absolutely deranged; his soul was beyond normal and outside of his damn body! He always wore this creepy grin and with his black tears, the guy looked like he came straight out of a horror movie.
Paperjam has also heard him fight and cause havoc with every resident here, a prankster Nightmare had mentioned. So far, Paperjam has been left alone, but he isn’t looking forward to the possibility. He’s had enough of that from Ink and his stupid paint pranks.

The Dust guy hadn’t spoken a word to him so far; he had to learn the name of the Skeleton from eavesdropping. He always wore his hood up, and a majority of his face was hidden, so Paperjam never got a good look. He seemed just as deranged as the rest of them, and Paperjam guessed he had to be the most psychotic. Ink had mentioned he killed everyone in his AU to gain something called “LOVE,” but it didn’t sound like anything good.
He supposed love was nonexistent, just a word people used to disguise something disgusting. It’s not like he’ll ever truly know what it was supposed to mean, right?

The last guy was Cross. Apparently, he was the newest member of the Gang and was more of a “third party” to Dream and Nightmare’s bullshit. He’d never met Dream but had heard stories from Ink when he rambled on and on about their fights with the “bad sanses.” Cross had popped in and out from time to time; Ink had said the guy “lost his AU” or something—and Nightmare mentioned once he “gains allies to try and get it back somehow.”

He stopped listening to the dinner table conversations after a while or the sob backstories he really didn’t care to hear. Everyone in this castle was a deranged psychopath who had killed their entire AU for power, not something Paperjam wanted to get mixed up in.

So, Paperjam mostly spent his time exploring the castle. His favorite parts were the abandoned areas nobody wanted to mess with, and he was supposed to “not mess with,” as if he cared. It was quiet in those parts of the castle and far from the other inhabitants, so there was nobody to bump into and nobody to mess with him. Just peace and quiet outside of that stupid room.

He’d found these abandoned areas after getting bored of shutting himself in that room. It was nice and all, but it got boring after a while.

Paperjam was heading toward the abandoned areas with his bag full of art supplies and his sketchbook, planning to just relax and draw away from people. Though that daydream quickly popped when he bumped into the brat.
Paperjam’s happy expression quickly soured when they locked eyes. An eye roll followed when Gradient waved with a small smile; oh, how cute the replacement wanted to be friendly. Well, that was too bad, because Paperjam didn’t.
He leaned down a bit and gave a tight smile. “Look, ‘buddy,’ we aren’t friends. I don’t like your whiny ass!” Paperjam shoved him into the nearest wall and scowled. “So stay outta my way or I will make your life a living hell.”

With that, he walked away, leaving a stunned and upset Gradient behind. That stupid brat had been bothering him since day one. Trying to be “buddy-buddy,” as if he hadn’t replaced him or stolen the life he always wanted.
Though there was one thing that brat didn’t have! Ink, so at least Paperjam had something he didn’t...sort of.

Paperjam just huffed and continued walking. The walls grew more mossy and the floor looked more damaged as he approached his destination. He ascended some old spiral stairs with small windows. It was always dark outside, the sky displaying deep shades of purple and blue as the moon hung high.

From a distance, he could see a small town he learned was called Snowden. Maybe he could visit it one day, but it was probably abandoned too. This castle had apparently belonged to the king and queen at one point, but they were killed. That’s at least what Error said during dinner one day, although Paperjam didn’t really listen.

He continued up the stairs to the level he sought. This floor was particularly damaged, especially the ground. Wood planks were arranged in a makeshift manner to fix it but provided decent bridges for him to cross. Paperjam loved this floor because it was the most abandoned, which meant no one would dare come up here.
He crossed the planks with ease and fiddled with the growing moss and weeds on the walls, his fingers tracing large cracks as he walked down the hallway. There were no lights up here, but his soul glowed bright enough to illuminate a pathway. At some point, he needed to get a flashlight or something; it was hard to see exactly where the planks were. Luckily, he knew this area like the back of his hand… or so he thought.

With a hop, skip, and a jump, his foot completely missed the plank, causing him to fall forward and land on it. A crack quickly followed as he tried to get up, and it broke under his weight. Paperjam fell to the floor below and landed on his arm. In pain, he howled, seeing his arm cracked down the middle with blood gushing from the bone marrow. Tears immediately gathered as he sobbed in agony, clutching his arm and hunching forward. The pain blinded him as his arm shook violently, blood flowing from under his hand.

A part of him wanted Error, a parent, to cry in their arms and be told it was okay. But he couldn’t have that; no, that was childish! He wasn’t a kid, and there was no way he’d let Error baby him. He didn’t need Error; he didn’t need anyone!

Paperjam got up and started walking down the hallway, holding back sobs as blood dripped, leaving a trail of crimson splatters behind him. He sniffled as he walked farther away from the abandoned section of the castle. He knew there was an infirmary somewhere in this castle, but it was far away from where he was.
His arm started to grow numb as adrenaline kicked in. See, he didn’t need anyone. His arm would heal and nobody would even know—he stopped dead in his tracks.

Horror stood across from him, his red eye light fixed on him. The guy was about Paperjam’s height, a bit taller but not by much. On the skinnier side, Ink mentioned a famine, so his size made sense. The two stared at each other for a period of time.
Horror sniffed the air and looked Paperjam over, the eye light shrinking at the sight of his arm. Horror immediately sprang into action and grabbed Paperjam’s shoulder; before Paperjam could even process what was happening, Horror shortcutted them into the infirmary, making Paperjam feel a bit nauseous, his cheeks puffing out slightly.

Horror sat Paperjam on a bed and rushed to grab a first aid kit. He was saying something to Paperjam, probably scolding or yelling at him, though the expression didn’t match. Either way, Paperjam didn’t hear a word he said, drowned out by loud static. He wasn’t sure if the static was coming from the guy's mouth or if a TV had somehow made it into his head, but it was starting to get annoying.

Paperjam blinked and Horror was forcing his hand off his bloodied arm. He blinked again and Horror was almost done cleaning the blood. Another blink, Horror must’ve laid him down; another blink and everything went dark.

Meanwhile, Horror was in a panic; he’d found Paperjam holding his bloodied arm and it was worse than he’d thought! The kid’s arm was completely broken down the middle, radius to the ulna, and it was a bad break too.
Horror used almost all his healing magic to mend most of the breaks and cracks, but with how weak his magic tends to be, it didn’t do much. But it did enough to heal some of the bruises and cuts.
He had just finished wrapping the arm when Error came rushing in like a mother hen, asking questions and yelling his head off until he found the will to calm down

Error had been getting a lot better with his anger. Horror believed it was Gradient who mostly helped; the babybones had always been skittish, and Horror could almost see Error physically hold back every time he wanted to lash out or throw a tantrum. Also, Nightmare’s help with controlling emotions and learning to maintain them properly had benefited Error. He was doing well in Horror’s book.

Horror watched as Error gently and almost barely petted the top of Paperjam’s skull. His soul warmed a bit, being reminded of his brother before the famine. Those nights when Papyrus would cry to him about a monster, and the two would have a sleepover. Horror missed those times sometimes.

Error was sitting on the bed, an inch apart from Paperjam. The feeling of touch was not all there yet, but he could manage small touches here and there—head pats or moments like this, gently petting Paperjam’s skull as his face scrunched in pain. Horror had added pain medication, but it took a moment to kick in.
A part of him wanted to scream at Paperjam for being an idiot! He must have been in the ruins again; oh, how this child doesn’t listen.

Yet, another part of him felt guilty for not being able to ease his pain. Once upon a time, when he was the “destroyer Error,” or better known as “The Man-child Error who throws a tantrum every ten seconds,” he wouldn’t have cared, even if Paperjam broke every bone in his body. He’d have seen it as another inconvenience, but now, all he wanted to do was erase his pain.

Heh, how odd did that sound? Error being caring? That made no sense for his character, but Error didn’t care. The whole universe and the voices could kiss his ass! Error could be whatever he wanted to be; nobody could tell him what to do or how to live his life.
Error planned to be a good father to Paperjam, like he should have been.
All he could hope was that Paperjam would accept him.

Pink and yellow eyes cracked open, sockets swimming with tears that threatened to fall. Error looked down at him with a small smile. “Good morning... Sleepy hEAd.” He expected another meltdown or to be shoved, but what he didn’t expect was a small pout, a whine, and a sad attempt at a hug. Paperjam only had one arm to work with, so he tried to hug around Error’s waist, but failed.

Error huffed out a laugh and moved Paperjam off him gently. He started to reposition him into a more comfortable position before a big whine followed, and Paperjam scooted his body into Error's lap. Error felt his vision cloud with glitches as Horror quickly came over to get Paperjam off.

“WWaiit-!” Error shouted, raising a hand. Horror halted and watched as Error took a few deep breaths to calm down. With hesitation, he wiped some of Paperjam’s tears and petted his skull, his vision as clear as it could be without his glasses. He smiled a bit. “I’m GgOod, Horror.” Horror nodded. “Must.. be tha’… meds,” he slurred out, and Error nodded sadly in response.

Of course, Paperjam wouldn’t do this consciously; Error knew that. But maybe subconsciously, the kid had always wanted this—a parent to hold him. Oh, how Error had failed him.
Sure, it wasn’t just him, but at least Ink put some effort and was there sometimes, He’d give him that, but still. Ink has failed both kids, hell Gradient doesn’t know Ink exists!

Error scoffed at that thought, muttering angrily under his breath. Horror left the room a while ago, leaving the two alone. Leaving Error to mutter in peace as he usually does, better than his tantrums.
.

.

After an hour, Paperjam opened his eyes again, stirring a bit beside Error, who had moved him after ten minutes of being in his lap. He would've held his son for hours, but he hadn 't quite gotten over the "burning touch" yet. Nightmare's been helping him with it for years now, but being a glitched soul, it's harder to accept touch.

After a yawn, Paperjam made eye contact with Error. The two stared at each other for a moment before Paperjam scrambled out of the bed, taking a few steps back with an angry scowl on his face. Error internally sighed, great, another meltdown. Paperjam opened his mouth, but before he said anything, he made eye contact with his cast. He blinked a few times, moving the casted arm a bit.

Error raised a brow, "...You BrrrOOke Your Arrrmm." Paperjam scoffed, "Yeah, I noticed, genius." A huff followed, "Get on with the lecture so I can live my life again." Error's brows furrowed, "..Excuse me?!" He stood up on the bed. "You Snnuckk- To THE! Abannn-nnDed Ruinsss Again! And Brr-Broke Your ARM!" He huffed, "I'm Just-" "What?" Paperjam cut in. "Disappointed? Mad?" "No."

Error sighed, "..Glad you Aaa- Are Safe." Paperjam blinked at that, not expecting those words to leave Error's mouth.
A huffed laugh escaped him, "Right, right. Oookay, Error." "Paperjam." Error crossed his arms. "I DooO- Care for You. I DiDNT Before, But I Do NOW-" "And what?" Paperjam scoffed. "Am I supposed to forgive you for neglecting me the last sixteen years??" "No-"

"Listen, Error," Paperjam walked closer and shoved a finger in Error's face. "Just because YOU want to impress your little boy toy doesn't mean I'm gonna play along with it. This isn't a house, and I'm not your Barbie doll!"
Error smacked his hand away. "I'm NOT Plll-AYING HoUSE! And YyOU know WHat?! Just Because YOU Hate mEEE- DoesnTT- TT- Mean You CAN Shove Gradient! AROUND!"
Paperjam laughed. "Aww, did the little bitch tattle on me to his daddy? Boohoo... so sad." Error felt his glitches worsen the angrier he got. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.
"Gradient Hasn't DONE AnyTHING to you," Error stated.
Paperjam rolled his eyes. "He stole my life, but I guess that's not anything by your standards."
"He DidNT steeAL your LIFE!" Error shouted. "And WeVEE been TRYingg to be patient And Kind to You! But YouRE Making it Verrry Difficult!"

"Maybe I'm angry," Paperjam clenched his fists and glared deeply at Error, "because my father decided to finally love me after sixteen years and could've done it the entire time, but decided NOT to for the last ten years!" Error's eyes widened, mouth shutting as Paperjam continued.
"Fuck, how am I supposed to feel, Error?! You practically ignored me my entire life! At least Ink swung by every once in a while; you never did! Even when Ink forced you to watch me, you still ignored me. You never tried! Never once did you try, and now that you do, I don't know what to feel. And the fact you could've done it for ten years says a lot, Error."

Error and Paperjam sat in tense silence; doesn't that feel familiar? With a huff, Paperjam brushed past Error and toward the cot. "Just go, Error."
After a moment, Error left the room, and Paperjam fell onto the cot, air finally leaving his lungs.

Who knew having a dad could be this stressful, or maybe that was just his luck? His life was far from normal; might as well add daddy issues to the mix. Let's see: he had never been to school , never had any friends, barely had any social skills, and then god-like parents! One didn 't even have a soul, and the other was basically a glitch in the system, or as Ink liked to call it,
"over baked in the Void."
Paperjam really did think about Ink too much. It was almost like he missed him. But there wasn't much to miss, so that thought confused him. Why did he miss something that was barely there? It made no sense.

He huffed and sat up, planning to leave the dreary infirmary until he made eye contact with Gradient, who stood at the doorway. Immediately his blood started the boil, didn’t he tell the brat to leave him alone?

Oh, enough is enough.

Paperjam got up as he shouted “I thought I told you to leave me ALONE!"
He manipulated some of the ink on his good arm, making a spiked mace while charging at Gradient. Gradient screamed and started running away down the hallway, Paperjam close behind, swinging his mace arm at him. "GET BACK HERE, YA BRAT!!"

Suddenly, he was grabbed by tentacles and held back from hitting Gradient, who was being protected by that Killer guy. Paperjam squirmed and fought against Nightmare until he hit his casted arm and was blinded by pain. Nightmare used this as a chance to wrap him up in tentacles more securely before leaning into Paperjam's face with an angry look. "What has gotten INTO you?!" Nightmare shouted. "Chasing your brother with- a... a mace?!"
Paperjam scowled, "He's NOT my brother! And let me go!!" "No,"

Nightmare crossed his arms. "You obviously cannot control your temper, nor do you plan to. So I am grounding you to your room, and we will have a talk later." Paperjam blinked. "...Wha- the fuck does that even mean?!"
Killer piped in, "You don't know what 'grounded' means?? Shit." "Killer." "Right, right, I'll watch my language or whatever. My nephew’s heard worse from Dust, trust me." Killer ruffled Gradient's hood as if it were hair.

Nightmare rolled his eyes and looked at Paperjam again. "Grounded means you are unable to do the things you enjoy, such as being on your phone or leaving your room without my or someone else's permission."
Paperjam looked at him as if he were stupid. "...I don't own a phone. I also like being in my room, so what are you going to do now?"

Nightmare paused for a moment. "You are not allowed to draw." "Wait, what??"

"I will be confiscating your art supplies until you learn to behave," Nightmare finished. “How does that sound for a punishment?"
Paperjam's eyes widened before he glared. "...Oh, fuck you! You can't do that!" "Oh yes, I can. This is my castle, and what I say goes. Until you learn to behave, you will be unable to do fun things, such as draw," Nightmare stated sternly, putting Paperjam down and being mindful of his arm.
"To your room. Now. Or I will force you there."

Paperjam glared at Nightmare before looking past him at Gradient. He smiled and drew a line across his neck before walking away.

.

 

.

 

.

 

Error sat at dinner in his usual spot beside Nightmare's head of the table. Gradient sat across from Error, who kept staring at the empty chair beside him. Paperjam had sat there his first dinner here; he was quiet and reserved, but he chose to sit there. He had refused dinner, not that he needed to eat-no, but it still worried Error.

Was this what being a dad was like? Worrying over your children every waking moment? If Error had hair, he'd be gray by now.

Nightmare glanced at him from his tea, worry creasing his skull. He sighed, "Dear... it isn't your fault-" "Yes, it IS,"
Error huffed. "I Ruined a Ggg-great thing Again. I' mmm HorrIBLE."
"No... you're not, Error," Horror said from the end of the table, across from Nightmare. "You're doing your best. It was tough with Paps too..." He shrugged a bit. "Teens are rough patches-" "Tell me about it-" Killer chimed in, stuffing bread into his face.

Dust only shrugged at their conversation. "...don't remember before." Horror patted his shoulder and stuffed some potatoes into his own face.

Error sighed and continued to pick at his plate. "...What did You DooO About it?" "Well..." Killer started, mouth full of bread, "I just let em' go through his phases while also making sure he stayed alive." He chuckled and nudged Horror. " Remember the emo phase?"
"Don't remind me-" Horror sighed.

"Oh Yeah- You're all Classic! SanssES... Similar Backstoryyy-" Error huffed, sliding his plate away, only for Nightmare to slide it back. Error pouted. "Night-" "Eat, Error. You know how you get when you lack food in that stomach," Nightmare told Error before sipping his tea.
Error huffed, "I'm NOttt- That Bad!" Nightmare cocked a brow, but Killer beat him to the punch. "You almost destroyed half the timelines because Ink poked you ONCE when you were hangry!"

Error rolled his eyes. "Well Deserved."
"YOU ALMOST DESTROYED MINE, DUMBASS !!" Killer shouted, hitting Error in the face with bread. Error started to get up. "And I'll dooOOO- it Again!" "If you do not sit down” Nightmare shouted sharply. Killer immediately sat down and huffed, "Well, tell your boyfriend to stop being a pain in the ass!"

Error turned blue in the face.
"HE- I- Ẅ̵̗̞́͋̾͊ͅḦ̶̫̘͓̝̆̾̍Ẏ̶͉̤͋͒́ ̶͕͙̤̏̏̾̆͝Ỵ̷̨̳̀͆̏͘O̶͎̎̍͝Ṳ̴̼̖͂̑̊̽ ̶̛̥͋͛̿͑L̴̙̘̙̜̂͌͆͠ͅI̴̮̿̇ͅT̶̢̠͌̅̿̕̕Ṫ̶̫͓͖̪̅L̵̢͖̃̔̇E̵̗̱̟̔̑̆-" "ENOUGH,"
Nightmare shouted as he hit the table, glaring at Error sharply with his one eye. "I'd advise you to sit down, Error."
Error only stared at him, still blushing brightly. Killer chuckled in his seat, "Ooooo-Daddies gonna punish you-"
A dial tone interrupted the conversation; Error's eyes glowed blue with "Reboot" signs all around.
Nightmare sighed and placed Error in his chair while side-eyeing Killer, who smirked smugly.

Gradient took this as a perfect opportunity to leave the room before they started throwing food again. Taking his plate, he nodded to Nightmare and walked out into the hallway. He glanced at Paperjam, who stood beside the doorway, but didn't lock eyes with Gradient this time. In fact , his eyes looked hollow, as if he'd seen or done something horrific. He couldn't get a good look at Paperjam from the way the darkness hugged him.

So, Gradient quickly and quietly walked away and left him eavesdropping.

"Killer-" "I didn't mean to make him reboot... THIS time." Killer chuckled, "But seriously, when are you two going to settle the score and date already?"
"Yeah..." Horror chimed in, "didn't you two... basically... raise a child?"

"Well-sort of," Nightmare sighed, "but it 's not that simple. Error can barely handle his emotions, let alone his romantic ones." He looked at Error lovingly. “I will wait for when he is ready. Until then, drop it."
Killer huffed, "Ughhh!! You're impossible!" "No, I'm your brother," Nightmare replied, "Now eat."

The dinner conversation went quiet after that, leaving Paperjam confused and angry at the same time. They weren't dating... yet raised Gradient. Nightmare loved Error... and did Error even love Nightmare? Is Error using Nightmare for something else? Or Gradient? Or even Paperjam too? Paperjam laughed quietly and walked away from the doorway.

His steps wobbled from the lightheadedness and the static in his mind. He could hear the dripping of blood hitting the floor as his broken arm hung low, the casket long forgotten. It swung with each wobbly step he took; the only thing holding it together was the small amount of bone still clinging.

With one more step, he fell forward and hit the stone floor, a pool of blood surrounding his left side. He lay there on his stomach before shutting his eyes, allowing darkness to consume him once more.

Notes:

And suddenly you’re bleeding on the floor! …Great

This chapter is chaotic LOL.

Chapter 4: Tea warms the Soul

Summary:

Nightmare and Paperjam bonding moments!
The beginning of the healing journey, a long and treacherous journey it will be! With angst, lighthearted moments, jokes and laughter :)

MENTIONS OF SUICIDE!

Notes:

Appearance information!

Horror is ONE of the shortest members in the household!(although I do love the idea of him being bulky and large- I don’t think it would fit with his backstory). He is as tall as Paperjam! He’s shorter than an average sans due to the famine, he’s gained a bit of bulk since living with Nighty… but is weaker with magic and his memory isn’t great.

Names from shortest to tallest:
Gradient
Nightmare(if he don’t shapeshift)
Paperjam + Horror
Killer + Dust + Error
Cross(head canon swap sanses are taller than average.)

You CAN have your own headcanons and interpretations of their appearances! I don’t care lol, let the imagination run wild!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Nightmare felt frozen in that moment; time went on, yet it left him behind to stand and watch the almost lifeless body of a skeletal child lying face down in his own blood. The smell of iron burned in his memory, and his limp, dying arm lay on the floor when Horror picked him up. Nightmare could have puked from his grief. He could only stare at the sleeping Paperjam, now patched and with an arm reattached with less ease than he would’ve preferred, and relive those waking moments from that night.

How could he not sense him in that hallway?

How did Gradient not see him lying in his own blood?

And how long had he been lying there on the floor?

Nightmare felt pure negativity radiating from this child alone. In the past, it would have fueled him with sick delight, but now his soul ached from the sour taste it left behind. Over the centuries, he had experienced all kinds of negativity, but when he found the will to care once more, the taste soured for those he kept close. It tasted like milk curds and food that had molded. This taste was both familiar and unfamiliar to Nightmare. It was overwhelming loneliness and the desperate wish for something beyond life, but he couldn't define what that meant.

It wasn't death, no, but perhaps a new life altogether?

Nightmare rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, regretting not considering this child's mental health. He should have noticed how diminished it was from their first encounter alone! And now this-what sane mind rebreaks their arm, let alone rips it off? If he weren't used to insane minds, he would have honestly freaked out worse than he was right now. But the fact remained that this was a child who had lived only sixteen years yet had suffered so greatly that he wished to practically die.
He could understand that mentality in someone like Killer or Dust, but not this.

Nightmare planned to make this right, to correct this mistake, and to be what Paperjam needed. This wasn't any accident; there wasn't a doubt in his mind about that. No, this was a suicide attempt. Whether Paperjam knew that or not didn't matter; his subconscious was as dangerous as his conscious.

He sighed once more and leaned back in his chair, glancing at the empty one beside him. Error had been sitting there not too long ago but had another horrible panic attack due to his lingering thoughts. Nightmare tried to console him as he had done the first time, but it led to another reboot.
Error could hardly handle his own emotions-romantic, happy, or borderline upset. He couldn't cope as well as any normal monster.
If Nightmare were to kiss his cheek, he'd glitch himself into oblivion, so it was no surprise that this situation would be difficult for Error to handle.

Nightmare had Horror take Error to their shared bedroom to rest his mind. While Horror was shorter and older than the average sans, he was bulkier and stronger...and wouldn’t mess with Error while he was in a reboot.
He was more gentle and understanding and not an idiot, unlike Killer, who would prank Error in any circumstance, or Dust, who wouldn't ensure he was comfortable.

Cross was another story for another time-quiet and loyal yet disliking the glitch nor anyone else. Stuck in the past, Nightmare assumed-a spell he'd have to break. For now, he had a child to keep company and guide to a better mindset.

Nightmare quietly watched as Paperjam cracked his eye sockets open; pink and yellow greeted the world as they adjusted to the light. He stared at the ceiling and then turned his head to meet Nightmare's blank stare. The two locked eyes for a moment before Paperjam turned his head back to stare at the ceiling.

Nightmare cocked an eyebrow at this. "I believe I need not lecture you." Paperjam just sighed and remained silent. With a sigh, Nightmare stood up and peered down at Paperjam, who avoided eye contact as if his life depended on it.
"Paperjam, I do not plan to lecture you nor yell at you. I simply wish to know 'why?'" "Why?" Paperjam huffed.

"Yes, why." Nightmare spoke with more emphasis on the 'why.' "I only wish to help you—" "Help?" Paperjam laughed. "I don't need your help, asshole." Nightmare paused and studied Paperjam for a moment. "...But you want someone to help you, do you not?" Paperjam just huffed and turned his head away. "Leave me alone—"
"I sense it deep in your soul," Nightmare said, ignoring the demand. "You want help. You may believe you do not need it, but you still wish for it." He placed a gentle hand on Paperjam's chest, where his soul would be. "I can treat it as a want if you wish, but I plan to obey your soul's desire." Nightmare rose up. "I plan to make up for what the world has done wrong."

Paperjam just stared at him with an unreadable expression, yet Nightmare knew he felt that same want along with anger and dread all at the same time. He was angry at the world and everything in it but still desired to be helped by it. What a dreadful cycle to walk, he thought.

"...I ask you again." Nightmare spoke out. "Why did you do this to yourself?.." There was a moment of silence before a sigh broke through, and Paperjam mumbled, "'Cause you took my art stuff."

Now that made Nightmare stare in confusion. Paperjam had gone to such lengths over simple art supplies. In the past, he would have believed this was crazy, but he learned from Killer what a being would do if they lost something that kept them sane. Nightmare had taken Killer's knife a few times in the past, to torture him or to save Killer from his idiocy. The results had led to relapses or increasing negative emotions, which used to feed him with delight, but over time, filled him with dread.

This simple statement must have meant a thousand tales for Paperjam to have done this. "...I see." Nightmare finally spoke. "Your art supplies mean a lot to you, don’t they?" Paperjam paused before he nodded, still not making eye contact. "Art... quiets my thoughts."

Ah, now this makes more sense.

Much like his father, he cannot handle his own emotions and lingering thoughts. Overthinking leads to panic attacks; they really are one and the same. If the context were different, he'd find it cute. But right now, he found it sad. Out of the two, however, one found a way to calm the storm while the other kept it brewing.
But Nightmare worried this was a dependable source of comfort rather than a healthy one, much like Killer’s knife. Taking away his art supplies as punishment would not work anymore, but he couldn’t exactly not punish him for his wrongdoing.

He tried to hurt Gradient more than once and needed to learn a lesson, but taking away his art supplies and risking another relapse was not worth it. Negative punishment wasn’t the best form, but how about positive? Adding something to encourage a new behavior.

Nightmare sat up as an idea struck; he straightened out and cleared his throat. “Paperjam,” he started, “I apologize for taking your art supplies... and causing this relapse to happen.” He sat down in his chair. “I will give them back, under one condition.” Paperjam raised an eyebrow. “…Which is…?”

"You will meet with me twice a week, in a location of my choosing, to have tea with me, and you will paint the scenery," Nightmare stated. "We’ll talk until we run out of tea or you finish your painting... drawing... or pastel art piece. Until you finish your art piece," he mumbled, 'maybe I should’ve just said that instead of that whole mouthful, idiot,' while looking embarrassed.

Paperjam snickered before bursting into laughter. Nightmare stared in shock before it morphed into a smile; his soul felt warm seeing him happy—despite the pain that lingered. He’d feel the pains of a thousand suns if it meant his family were happy and content; there is a balance within everything, he understands that. He just wishes his- dream would too.

“Mind you—I do have knowledge of the fine arts! …Even if I do not possess the talent myself,” Nightmare sheepishly smiled.
Paperjam sighed with a smile before it faded within his thoughts. “…Okay. What will these ‘talks’ be?" he asked, starting to cross his arms before realizing he couldn’t, settling to just lay flat instead.

“Well,” Nightmare drew out, “Anything you’d want, I suppose? Mental health check-ins and basic conversation... it is to help you feel less lonely as you do.” “I’m not—” “I’m an empath,” Nightmare cut in. “I know what you feel at all times. However, I do tend to leave your emotions private until I feel you cannot handle them yourself.” Paperjam just huffed. “…Fine... I’ll do it.”

Nightmare hummed happily. “Excellent, we will start tomorrow. I will let you know a proper schedule once I create one.” Paperjam only grumbled and rolled over onto his good side. “Whatever, I’m going back to bed.”
Nightmare nodded. “Of course... sleep well, Paperjam,” he said before sitting down in his chair again, leaving Paperjam to sink into slumber once more.

Nightmare felt a long journey ahead of him... and a lot of headaches and the need to pull an angry Paperjam off someone before he could kill them.
He sighed; what a long year this’ll be.
.

 

.

 

.

Tomorrow came, much to Paperjam’s disappointment. He honestly wished he had died yesterday, but the world didn’t deem him worthy of such mercy. Instead, he was walking down the hallway to this stupid “scenery” as Nightmare called it. He told him directions but not details about the location. He groaned as he realized this would become a pattern. The element of surprise to bring his spirits up—yippee, he couldn’t fucking wait.

Paperjam adjusted his art bag on his good shoulder, but it was difficult with the lack of two arms. He had decided on watercolor for this art piece, not his favorite like actual oils or acrylics, but he was low on paints. It would have to do until he could go out to grab more. His usual supply came from stealing whatever Ink left behind or dropped inside the void. Sometimes, Ink actually came by with gifts, mostly art supplies, but Paperjam cherished every one.

Sometimes he believed Ink cared for him, but then the reminders swarmed that thought too quickly to be enjoyed. Paperjam took a right and was met with a gorgeous sight. The room was lit with a blue hue from the moon passing through the many long windows with detailed frames made of once golden metal now corroded and discolored. In the center of the room rested an old, busted piano; the moonlight bounced off it and touched many blue flowers scattered across the floor.

The floor was made of mossy stone, and the walls were wooden with discolored white and golden paints. Details were engraved yet lost to time. This area was abandoned yet so beautiful, like most abandoned places in this castle. Oh, how Paperjam wished he had his oil paints now and an actual canvas! This would be an extraordinary sight for him to paint.

A cough interrupted his thoughts.

He turned around and saw Nightmare by the doorway, accompanied by Horror, who held a small table and two chairs. “Good morning, Paperjam. Good to see you’ve found your way,” Nightmare said while walking into the room. “Where would you like to sit?” Paperjam blinked, confused for a moment, before realizing what he meant. He started walking backward and then sideways, trying to find a good angle. Soon enough, he stopped just a few inches away from the doorway and grinned. “Here.”

Nightmare looked at Horror and gestured to the spot. Horror grunted as he set the table down, unfolding the chairs and setting them down too. “Thank you so much, brother,” Nightmare said; Horror ruffled his skull in response and grinned. “No prob, bro.” Nightmare shoved his hand away. “Would you quit that! You’re worse than Killer!” Horror just chuckled. “And you’re still short.”

“Wha- I AM FOUR FEET TALL, MIND YOU!” Nightmare stamped his foot. “AND A GOD! FUCK YOU!”
Horror shrugged. “Ooookay... a god... who is short.” Nightmare’s whole face turned cyan with rage. “You—”

“Okay, bye!” Horror said while running out the door, cackling. Nightmare huffed. “Stupid mother—” He paused as he saw a grinning Paperjam. With a cough, he straightened his posture. “...Apologies.. for that.”

Paperjam hummed. “No worries, four feet.” Nightmare huffed. “Oh dear lord, not you too-” Paperjam snickered in response and sat down. “Sorry, sorry—but uh, okay, just throwing it out there: you don’t look four feet.” Paperjam said, “What’s up with that?”

Nightmare stared before he sighed; his body started morphing and he started to shrink shorter and shorter, then he stopped. Paperjam felt a smile creep on his face, this guy was actually four feet tall naturally?

“I... tend to shape-shift... here and there.” He coughed. “Anyway, not important. Let’s begin.”

Paperjam suppressed a laugh as he set his art supplies out. Nightmare watched in amusement as he set up the tea. “Watercolor, interesting.” “It’s not my favorite-“ Paperjam admitted, setting his paint cup down.
“Oh?” Nightmare cocked a brow. “What is your favorite then?” “Oils and acrylics,” Paperjam answered with no hesitation; painting with vibrant colors was always his favorite pastime. Watercolors tended to be more diluted in comparison, but it wasn’t a horrible pastime. He quite enjoyed other forms of art as well, but the vibrancy in paints never failed to please him.

“Hm, then why watercolors now?” Nightmare asked. What was this, twenty questions? Paperjam started preparing his watercolors as he spoke. “Almost out of them.” “Oh! Well, you could’ve asked to go shopping; I’ve been meaning to ask Error what day would be best.” Nightmare quickly spoke, pouring hot water over tea bags. “We could also get you new clothes and a cellular device.”

Paperjam couldn’t help the cringe that crept onto his face; Nightmare only stared in amusement. Oh, that asshole is acting like a fossil on purpose with his old dinosaur talk. “What? Is it not a cellular device?” Nightmare said with a grin. “What is it called again? A… cell? As you kids say.” Paperjam groaned. “Stop! Your dinosaur talk is hurting my skull! And I’ve never even had a phone; yet this is hurting me.”

Nightmare just chuckled and stirred sugar into his tea. “Okay, I’ll stop for now.” He slid a small pot full of sugar to Paperjam. “Your tea should be ready. Add sugar if you’d like. It tends to bring out the flavor of this particular tea.”

Paperjam raised a brow and looked at his teacup, puzzled. “What’s so flavorful about leaf water, exactly?” He asked while sniffing the tea—there was cinnamon with a hint of honey. It smelled delightful, yet a lot of things that smelled good never tasted good. Like soap; he once watched Ink try to eat a bar of soap that apparently smelled like bubble gum. He took a big bite and immediately started coughing up bubbles, then whined for an hour about how it didn’t taste how he thought it would.

Paperjam picked up and sipped the tea after a moment of hesitation. His eye lights brightened at the taste—honey and cinnamon in a smooth blend of liquid met his taste buds. He felt his soul warm up in his rib cage. Huh, no wonder this guy liked tea so much.
In just a short moment, he felt okay to be alive. Being a guardian of negativity must mean he feels negative all the time. Tea warms the soul and fills you with a sense of peace.

Maybe tea wasn’t so bad after all, Paperjam thought as he sipped again. Nightmare hummed happily. “Not bad for… leaf water, hm?” He mused, a small smirk hidden behind his own teacup.

Paperjam didn’t respond, but instead finished his tea as an answer. He set down the teacup and began his rough sketching, which Nightmare left him to, yet still watched secretly. He had seen this young skeleton's talents in the arts. He wasn’t normally the type to intrude, but he looked at some of the sketches in Paperjam’s art book, and my, they were a sight.

Beautiful illustrations of different forms told different stories or emotions. Paperjam’s art was the gateway to his soul, therapeutic in a sense. Nightmare couldn’t wait to see what Paperjam would create with this scenery. He thought it would be easier for him to paint something he found interesting: abandoned places. He noticed in some sketches that Paperjam made illustrations of mostly scenery—most of the abandoned areas in his castle. So he wasn’t looking to cause trouble, just to draw in peace.

Regret filled his soul once he realized, but he planned to make up for his mistakes. A troubled soul isn’t always a bad one; no, Paperjam longed for attention and support. He just didn’t know where or how to find it. He needed a guide, and Nightmare was happy to oblige with this task.

After a few minutes, Nightmare finally spoke up. “If I may indulge, why do you favor acrylics and oils over water-based paints?” A simple question, yes, but he planned to ease into deeper ones. With his research on typical therapy sessions, they usually start with getting the patient to feel at ease and comfortable about answering questions. But that all depends on the patient, of course. Paperjam is a stubborn soul, so he will be quite a challenge.

Paperjam glanced up for a moment before continuing his sketch. “Uhh... I guess because they’re more vibrant in color?” Nightmare raised a brow. “That sounds more like a question than an answer, Paperjam.”

With a huff, he erased a mistake in his sketch. “Why do you want to know, anyway?” “Just curious,” Nightmare said simply, pouring more tea into their teacups.

“…They’re vibrant in color,” Paperjam said after a moment of silence. “Watercolors are diluted, and I prefer my pieces to be more realistic and defined than a watery-pastel vibe.” He shrugged. “I don’t hate it, though; I’ve just always preferred more color over dull and lifeless sketches… is all.”

Nightmare hummed. “Much like Ink… at least that’s what Error has stated during his many long tantrums after a fight,” all said with an eye roll.

Paperjam felt his blood boil. “I—I'm NOTHING like him!” he glared. “I’m not like Ink and I’m not like Error!” Nightmare only stared blankly, unaffected by this anger. This is exactly what Nightmare wanted. “Oh? You do not see the comparison?” “NO.” Paperjam continued to glare. “And I don’t see how YOU can see any.”

“Is there a reason you don’t wish to be compared with them?” Nightmare leaned forward in his chair, testing the waters a bit. Paperjam huffed angrily and continued to scribble on his paper, then furiously erased the mistakes. “I—I don’t know! Who wants to be compared to them anyway?! They’re fucking dumbasses who can’t act like adults for two seconds.”

The word ‘adults’ clicked something in Nightmare.

“…They never acted like true parents to you, did they?” Nightmare stated more than asked, making Paperjam bubble up in anger, yet his soul screamed with pure hurt. “So you feel the need to be an adult or act as one to replace something you felt was missing.”

Paperjam ripped his paper up and threw it away. “You don’t know shit—”

“Empath—”

“YEAH.” Paperjam cut in before Nightmare could rant. “I fucking know, okay? You’re an empath and can always know what I’m feeling. I get it.”

They sat in silence for a moment. “…I truly am sorry for the way your life has played out, Paperjam,” Nightmare apologized, looking sincere. Paperjam glanced at him before looking away to the blank paper in his sketchbook.

“You know…” Nightmare started, swirling the spoon around in his teacup. “I barely had a mother. Being a tree made it hard to actually feel warmth from a parent.” Paperjam glanced at him again as Nightmare continued, his soul feeling intrigued by this story. “She did talk to me… somewhat. Mostly about my destiny as a guardian of negativity and how no mortal should be trusted…but that ultimately led to my future demise.” He sighed. “I, too, was forced to grow up rather early in my childhood…and I rarely felt the love I was told she had for me. They soon became only words I had to repeat in the end…”

“…Is that why you let me live here?” Paperjam asked while setting down his sketchbook; the words “because you understand” were never spoken but were heard all the same.
Nightmare thought for a moment. “Not entirely, but that was part of it.” He sipped his tea before continuing. “I wanted to give you a better life to live, one with an actual roof and four walls—not a void with no stimulation of any kind.”

He huffed in annoyance, tentacles thrashing a bit. “Your soul screams strongly of negativity, even now. You scream of loneliness, yet you are not alone. Your negativity broke through Dreams' aura he put around Ink’s void; even if it was dim, I could feel it. Once you left that void and entered Error's anti-void, I felt it all at once…” Nightmare took a deep breath. “…No child should ever feel negativity like that. No being should feel that strongly…and I plan to correct it.”

Paperjam stared in shock at his words. His throat closed, and no air would come in; he didn’t know what to say to this. He didn’t know how to react or how he was supposed to feel. All he knew was that it made his soul feel as warm as the tea.

A sigh made Paperjam glance up at Nightmare, who rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You may leave if you wish, Paperjam,” he said sadly. “I’ve pushed this too far already; my apologies.”

Paperjam stared for a moment and then glanced at his sketchbook. “I thought you said we would talk until I finish my drawing?” He gave a small smirk and picked up his sketchbook, showing the blank paper to Nightmare. “See? No drawing. Or are you going against your word, Nightmare?”

Nightmare blinked before grinning in amusement. “Oh, I see.” He leaned back in his chair. “By all means, my schedule is clear all day.”
Paperjam felt himself grin and began sketching again, the two sitting in silence once more, but this time it was a comfortable one. No longer tense as it always had been.
.

 

.
Error woke up at some point, with no memory of falling asleep or even shutting his eyes. He was met with darkness and an annoying headache that pulsed on both sides of his head. He groaned out a glitchy sound and rolled over in bed; only this wasn't his bed, it was Nightmare's bed.

Error shot up and turned blue in the face, as if this was the first time he'd slept in the guardian's bed. During his time here , he sneaked in a few times, mostly to look at Nightmare or even knit while the god slept. He found comfort in his presence even when he was sleeping.
Nightmare didn't do that often, but mostly did it for those mortals he kept as pets... or well brothers, as he called them. Error had no care for those pesky Sanses; he found them all annoying and a headache. Though Nightmare cared for them, so he supposed he could tolerate those four enough not to glitch them out of existence.

With a huff, he hopped out of bed and started looking through Nightmare's things, trying to find one of his good sweaters to throw on. Don't get Error wrong; he loved his own clothes, but he also found comfort in Nightmare's soft sweaters, which he ended up staining with his corruption. Error used to find it unbearable, but now he has gotten used to it, the smell and the feel of it when his body decided touch wasn't as painful as fire.

"Where ISsss IT?" Error grumbled as best as he could mimic, digging in Nightmare's closet and throwing random shirts and junk onto the floor. "I know HEee- He Has-"

"What are you doing, Error?"

Error screeched and whipped around, meeting a very annoyed Nightmare who stood with his arms crossed. The two stared in silence and didn't move a muscle, staring at each other like it was a staring contest. Error glanced away after a moment, and Nightmare spoke up. "I expect an answer, Error. What are you doing?" He glanced at the clothes on the floor. " And why does it involve messing with my clothing?"

Error mocked him and continued to dig in his closet once more. "Looking Fff-For somethING." And alas, he found the sweater he was looking for. He quickly threw it on and sighed happily. Nightmare cocked a brow and walked closer in amusement, a small smirk on his face. "Oh?~" Error jumped. "So you sought comfort in my clothing, hm? You could have a hug with the owner?" He teased Error, whose face dusted a bright blue hue.
With a scoff, Error used his strings to create distance between the two. "You wish."

Nightmare glanced at the strings for a moment. "How about a simple kiss on your hand, hm?" He looked at Error again. " You always tend to prefer simple touches over larger ones..."
Error paused for a moment, then held his hand up to Nightmare's face with a mumbled, "fine."

Nightmare looked puzzled but decided not to question Error's choices, planting a soft kiss on his dorsal. Error pulled away and released Nightmare with a huff. "There, happy?" "Very," Nightmare chuckled before he paused. "I spoke with Paperjam today," he said while looking at Error carefully. Error tensed up immediately and glanced at Nightmare as if someone just died.

"Worry not," Nightmare quickly reassured. "It actually went well. He is a very kind person once he breaks from his angered shell." He smiled a bit. "And has a marvelous sense of humor."
Error softened a bit. "But we ruined him -he Hhh-ATES me."

Nightmare held his hands out gently, to which Error glanced nervously, deciding to cover his hands with his sleeves and place them into Nightmare's palms. "...He does not hate you..." Nightmare started, rubbing his thumbs on Error's covered distal. "I would have felt it in his soul, yet I do not. He craves you... craves a father, parents, you, and Ink."

Error huffed at 'Ink,' and Nightmare only sighed. "...I know you barely tolerate him, but he is still the father of Paperjam as well. Would it not be fair to... give it a chance? Joint custody, or at least convince Ink to actually parent his own child?"

"He won't," Error sighed, looking at their joined hands . "...That PAINT FREAK!ssss-A Dumb Ass. He Wonnntt- I mean Maybeee...? But Hesss forgetful as a-aaa- GoldFISH!" He felt his body burn with glitches as he filled with worry. “What Ifff- he ForgeTTTS Paperjam?! What IF- he gets HIM K- KILLLLED??-"

"Error..."

Error looked up. "You are getting worked up, my dear... take a deep breath for me..." Nightmare stated gently, to which Error followed. "...Sorry." "No need," Nightmare said. "You are a worried parent... is all. Paperjam just needs to understand... he is as lost and scared as you." He sighed. “And he wants help... attention and love, but doesn't know how to properly receive it. Nor does he understand how to regulate emotions, let alone have any education system..."

Error cringed a bit, knowing this was his fault. "...What Shh-should we do?" he asked hesitantly, a worried look in his eyes. "We..." Nightmare drew out, "give him what he needs."
Error huffed, "Yes, But- Hhh- How?"
“Let me finish," Nightmare flicked Error with a tentacle. "Ow!" Error smacked the tentacle. " Asss HOLeee-"

Nightmare rolled his hands. "Anyway," he started with emphasis, "we help Paperjam by giving him what he needs, starting with education and therapy. Cross is the only one properly educated... somehow."

Error huffed and grumbled, "Course ThhOSE Abominationssss- are UnEDUcated- Ed."

Nightmare gave him a look. "...Dear, you are uneducated as well."
“B-besides the POinttt!"

Sighing heavily, Nightmare continued, "Cross will be giving Paperjam proper education -reading , writing, spelling, the basics. Soon math and English, proper understanding of the multiverse... AUs." He looked at Error seriously. "You will teach Paperjam how to use his powers."
"But-" Error's brows furrowed. "I-I don't... Well, Maybe I do-but he Controls INK-" "Gradient does too, my dear," Nightmare cut in.

"Yeah, But not Likeee- Thisss!" Error huffed and removed his hands from Nightmare's, rubbing his glitched-out eyes. "...I... I don't Know-"

"Dear..." Nightmare looked at him with concern. "You lack confidence within yourself. You will do good; we learned with Gradient... and we will learn with Paperjam." He thought back to how Gradient made a small fort using only his fingers. Killer found it awesome, as he always found anything peculiar that way, and the fort still stands in the garden today.

Sometimes Nightmare feels their souls radiating positivity from the fort, which leaves them to their fun. He wonders who Paperjam will take a liking to most after he gets proper care.

Error opened his mouth, only to close it again, sighing while hugging himself, trying to feel some comfort from the soft sweater. Nightmare sighed softly. "...I promise, my dear," he extended his hand carefully. "I will make things right, and everything will be okay."

Error looked at his hand and then stared at his own. With a sigh, he carefully placed his bare hand into Nightmare's. Soft glitches erupted before dimming, leaving only the feeling of Nightmare's cold hand against his own.
Touching Nightmare wasn't always an issue; he always tended to be cooler compared to most, which soothed his glitches into a soft buzzing. He grinned a bit. "...You Really aren't a SANS! ...They never Like MakING promises."

Nightmare raised Error's hand to his lips, glancing at him for permission. "Well..." He planted a soft kiss on his distal. "My name is Nightmare, not Sans, so there is that."
Error rolled his eyes. "And Mines Errrrr-Error. Yet I'm a Sannnsss."

“And that's why you are a hypocrite," Nightmare grinned. "Neither are you original, yet you hate all that isn't."
"Oh f-f-fuck Fuck You!" Error flipped him off with his other hand. "I'm Perfffect!"

Nightmare hummed. "Yes, you are, my dear. To me, you are perfection at its finest." Another kiss was planted while Error turned blue from the praise, a small grin creeping out.
It was no secret the glitch loved compliments, and Nightmare abused this power to its fullest.

"...Are...?" Error hesitated. "...You surrrre- it will BEeee- Okay?"
Nightmare looked at him with sincerity. "It will be okay, Error."

Error felt deep in his soul that this was the truth, but deep down in his glitched soul, he knew...
this would end up in flames.

Notes:

Haha Paperjam didn’t die 🌝

Also the sanses ARE educated!… not in the NORMAL sense tho. Like they didn’t go to school, but taught themselves!
Cross I headcanon the ONLY one that was taught by someone else. Either in an actual school in one timeline, the king and queen ooorrr Gaster.
So don’t worry! They’re smart in other categories, like science. But other categories probably not lol.

Chapter 5: Baby steps

Summary:

TW:
Mentions of suicide

This chapter is all about learning! About education, each other, and how sometimes a person isn’t all you think they are.
The baby steps of learning and development!

Notes:

Cross, in this fic, does have OCD! I headcanon him with OCD due to trauma and his guard training. Wanting to be perfect and such.
I did so research before writing this! If I did anything wrong please let me know in the comments! This fic is a practice for bigger projects and I do want to get better! :) So let me know what I can correct for future chapters

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Look at you!”

A smiling face greeted his view. It felt familiar and warm, like a soft blanket that kept him safe.
The figure smiled with open arms as a giggle left his lips. Crawling towards the figure, who backed up ever so slightly so he couldn’t get closer.

“Come on, Jammy pants!” The figure said; the nickname felt nostalgic in a way, but he had never heard it before. “You gotta walk to me, use those tiny legs!”

He looked down and moved his small baby hands. He flopped into a sitting position and looked over his body. He wore a pink onesie with a bunch of paint splatters.

“Jammmyyy! Don’t get distracted!” The figure playfully whined, catching his attention. “Come to dada!”

His heart filled with warmth at that name. Dada, right, his dad! He loved his dad so much; he remembered now.
With a wobbly stance, he started to hobble his way towards his dada, a smile matching the figure’s own.
“There you go! Yes, yes, come to daddy!”
A giggle left him as he hobbled closer and closer, before tripping on his own feet and falling face-first onto the floor.
He heard a wince and a slight chuckle.

“Oh boy— I don’t think that’s right.”
He felt himself hiccup as he lifted his head up before breaking down into sobs. The figure scooped him up and spun around as he held him close.
“Oooh— no, no, Pajama pants—” The figure patted his back and filled him with comfort and warmth he’d forgotten how to feel. “It’s okay, shh shh.. no need to cry over a hiccup!”

He felt himself sniffle and grip onto the familiar satchel; it held colorful objects he wanted to grab at.
“Haha, you can’t have my paints! Those would probably be yucky to you—” The figure paused. “Maybe they wouldn’t be… but that’s a future science experiment!” He felt a chuckle from the figure; the laugh was familiar and warm, yet his soul filled with dread all at once.

“Let’s try again, okay?” The figure placed him down again, and he filled with dread; a loud whine escaped him as he tried crawling towards his dada again, wanting to be held and shielded from the world. Almost in an instant, he was scooped up again and shushed.

“Ooookay— maybe not— shh shh.. Jammyyy—” The figure rocked back and forth on the floor. “Jammy pants, it’s okay! I’m not going anywhere.. I promise…

Even if I can’t truly love you”

.
.

Paperjam woke up with a single tear falling from his socket.
He sat up with warmth in his soul but a familiar dread of loss. He didn’t remember what the dream was about, really, but he remembered those words.
“I can’t truly love you” was a phrase Ink said all the time. He mimicked emotions, he said he couldn’t truly feel them like a normal monster would.
It always hurt him to know he wasn’t truly loved by his own father, but some memories felt too real to be fake.

Paperjam got up with a sigh and rubbed the sleep from his sockets away, putting that thought bubble away for later. For now, he had class to get to.
Nightmare scheduled an “educational class,” as he called it, between him and that Cross guy. They’d never truly met since the guy never cared to talk much unless spoken to. He got annoyed by Killer easily, and the two always seemed neck and neck with each other.
Nightmare said he was nice and needed to be distracted by something important rather than saving something already dead… whatever that meant.

Throwing on a quick set of clothes and tossing his pajamas, he didn’t have much to choose from. Most were made by him or borrowed clothes from Nightmare, which consisted of sweaters or turtlenecks.
They promised to take him shopping one day, but part of him felt that day would never come. He was used to empty promises like that; Ink made them all the time. Why was Error any different?

Recalling his last talk with Nightmare, he said that the past was something uncontrollable, but our present is, and that’s what we need to change to have a better future, meaning a better past to look back on.
Paperjam thought it over and compared it to Error, Ink... and then himself.

Error was a deadbeat and an asshole who hated everyone but himself because he thought anomalies needed to die, even though he was an anomaly too. Looking back now, he’s still an asshole and probably thinks anomalies need to die, but he took him from the void. That was a step, he supposed, but it didn’t make the past right.
He was neglected and has fallen so far behind any normal kid his age because of him! Ink at least tried to be a good parent, even if he forgot about him from time to time or got distracted as easily as a five-year-old on steroids; at least he tried.

He has no idea how Ink would act now, whether he even remembers him being gone or not, or where the hell he even is. Surely he’s gone to bother Error in that Anti-void by now and saw neither of them were there anymore. The beanbag was untouched, and the same stupid trash was never moved. Paperjam huffed at that thought and tried to push it aside before he got angry again.
Nightmare said he needed to work on his temper, to which Paperjam scoffed and said, “I don’t have a temper,” before realizing he actually did. Almost as bad as Error’s; great, another thing he had in common with that bag of string and glitches.

Walking down the hallways was a breeze; it was early in the morning and nobody was really awake besides Nightmare and that Cross guy. Nightmare had said a morning class would prevent distractions from the other inhabitants in this castle. Paperjam translated that to, “nobody wakes up in the morning besides the only non-dumbasses in this castle who would 100% interrupt you two to annoy Cross.” It was annoying not to sleep in, but at least he’d learn to fucking count or even spell.

He walked into the dining room and spotted the skeleton preparing some things on the table. Standing at the doorway, he watched as the skeleton mumbled to himself and organized the papers neatly, before changing how he did it again…and then again.
While moving a few notebooks into alignment, he finally noticed the other and jumped a bit. “Hi!” Cross said while wiping his hands and walking toward him. “Paperjam, wasn’t it?”

Paperjam just stared at him. “...Yeah.” He noticed sweat dripping from this man. Was he antisocial? Or was he really just this awkward all the time? “Right—sorry, we never properly introduced.” Cross extended a hand, meant for Paperjam to shake, but he just looked at it, puzzled. “...I’m Cross!” “Yeah,” Paperjam said with an obvious tone. “I know.” Cross kept that position before awkwardly putting his hand down. “Alright. Let’s just get started, Paperjam,” he stated while walking to the dining room table again.

Paperjam followed and pulled out a chair, plopping his bag down on the table as he sat. He noticed Cross eyeing the bag while his hands twitched a bit. “…Something wrong?” Cross perked up. “Hm? Oh, nothing just—” he stared at the bag before letting his anxiety win and straightening it in one swift move.
Paperjam raised a brow. “…Are we actually going to learn... or am I just gonna watch you organize everything on this table?” He let out a small chuckle. “You’ve reorganized those same papers at least four times since I walked in.” Cross glanced at the papers and smiled nervously. “Right—sorry.”
He coughed into his fist and sat down. “Let’s begin.”

Paperjam was beginning to hate everything about this. He was told to spell his name, and he never realized he didn’t actually know how. He had never even seen the alphabet before, and when he was shown, he was more confused than before. All the letters, as they were called, sounded differently than when they were put into words. He spelled "Cat" with a ‘K’ before being corrected. C doesn’t sound like K by itself, but suddenly it does; it’s so stupid!

Paperjam ripped and scribbled on so many pieces of paper that Cross quickly put them into a bin, which was annoying. This guy seriously had an issue with things not being organized, like he’d stare at a crooked pencil or something before fixing it. Nightmare had said he was a “perfectionist due to training,” but he didn’t think it was this level of perfect.

With a groan, he slammed his head on the table, sliding the scribbled and torn piece of paper to Cross to throw in the bin. “This is stupid.” “Yes, you’ve mentioned that,” replied Cross, who tried sliding another piece of paper to him. “Let’s give it another—” “No!”

Paperjam sat up, his face boiling with rage. “This is stupid! And a waste of time. Why do I need to spell my name if I’m never going to need to?!” Cross sat in silence for a moment, his eyes scanning the room before looking at Paperjam again. “…How do you know you’ll never need this information?”

That left him puzzled for a second, sitting in silence as he thought and thought but couldn’t find any real answer. “..You don’t,” Cross said, sliding the paper over again. “Which is why learning is important, especially simple spelling and math. Your name, all of that is important, and if we all gave up after a few failures, we’d never do anything, now would we?” He cracked a grin as Paperjam huffed and picked up his pencil again.

“Try sounding out the letters.” “I did that,” Paperjam mumbled. “They sound different every time! C and K don’t sound alike, but apparently C can sound like K in fucking CAKE!” “Oh,” Cross said dumbly. “Well, it’s because of phonetic context.”

“…Phonetic.. what?” Paperjam said while looking as lost as ever. Cross let out a small sigh. “It’s when the sound of a letter changes based on the other letters surrounding it. Like how, in some cases, C sounds like K or even S sometimes. It can happen to almost all the letters in the alphabet.”

Paperjam thought for a moment. “Other letters change other letters…” “Yeah,” Cross smiled. “That’s pretty much the gist of it—C sounds like K because of the A beside it. Like—Kaaay-Kuh.” It felt like it made sense, but it still didn’t change the fact that Paperjam thought this whole thing was stupid. Certain letters sound different because of other letters? Who came up with that mess?

He huffed. “..Guess that makes sense.” “Good,” Cross leaned on the table a bit more. “How about we use that to spell your name, hm? Break your name into two chunks: Paper and Jam, and sound out each chunk.”

Paperjam paused in thought. There was definitely an A in Paper, but he didn’t know where. No letter made a “Puh” sound, but maybe A could make P sound like that? “…Could..” He cringed at himself; asking for help was something he wasn’t used to—foreign and unfamiliar. “..P makes a ‘Puh’ sound… if A was beside..?”

“Yeah! But it kind of sounds like Ppaaaay-Puh-er, don’t ya think?” He raised a brow. “…I guess?” This guy was very strange, and Paperjam sort of liked that for some reason. Cross was a good kind of strange.

Paperjam scribbled “PA” on the paper. It was a bit messy, but after a while of sketching random letters, it became easier. “..Pay.. per.. is there an E somewhere?” “Nope, there are sometimes silent letters or just sounds that can be made without the letter actually being present. It’s weird, but you’re on the right track, I promise.”

Now he really wanted to throw this pencil across the room, but he decided against it. There had to be another P somewhere, so he scribbled down another “P,” which Cross hummed in approval. Okay, he was getting somewhere, but what the hell made an “Er” sound? “..Er.. What the hell makes that sound?” Paperjam asked. “Sounds like the noises I keep hearing from that game the.. killer guy plays at night.”

“…Minecraft..?” Cross asked hesitantly. “You mean those zombies? Wait—how do you know he plays at night?” Paperjam flushed a bit. “I—well, I—” he started chuckling nervously, to which Cross raised a brow with a skeptical look.
“You—well, what?”

In defeat, Paperjam huffed. “…I sneak around the castle at night, and I peeked into a doorway and saw that killer guy, the one with the black tears, watching something—and it made the Er Er sounds?”
“Oh,” Cross sat back a bit. “Yeah, he does that sometimes. Plays video games at night, I mean. One of us has to drag him to bed, or he’ll end up playing all night.” He coughed into his fist. “Anyway, um, the 'er' sound is made by two letters, E and R. It’s used in a lot of words, actually! Like 'killer,' for example.”

“You sure know a lot about him,” Paperjam teased, “despite the number of fights you get into.”

“Right,” Cross huffed. “The guy's an asshole sometimes—but... wait, I—I don’t—” He flushed purple. “I know a lot about everyone! Not just him in particular…”

Paperjam shrugged. “I dunno, you two fight more than anyone else in this castle. It seemed like you liked each other…” He said while scribbling “ER” on the paper.
Cross paused at that statement. “…You—how many fights have you noticed exactly?”
“Uhhh, a few. You all fight a lot, actually,” Paperjam said. “Kinda like Ink and Error, but they hate each other; still, they always talk a lot about the other. It’s confusing sometimes…”

The look Cross was giving him made him stop talking; it was concern laced with an understanding he didn’t share.
“…I’m— I apologize if our fights bother you, Paperjam,” Cross spoke sincerely. “I’ll try to stop the fighting around here. I promise.”

Paperjam felt confused but only nodded in response. “...Can we continue?”
“Oh yeah, of course.”

He looked down at his paper and thought over the next chunk. “Jam seems simple. It’s… jam… so J, right?” He received a nod and scribbled down “J.”

The next few letters were a breeze, and finally, he finished spelling and writing his name. Before this moment, he’d never even seen it written out before; he felt oddly accomplished as he stared at his own name.

“Congrats!” Cross smiled a bit. “See what learning can do?”
Paperjam shrugged. “I guess… Can we spell more words?” “Of course...”
.

 

.

 

.

Cross walked down to dinner with anxiety resting in his chest and the comfort of counting how many steps it took to reach the dining room. That morning lingered in his mind all day and left him with questions.
Paperjam hinted at Cross having a crush on Killer, which he does not, and that his clues were simply him knowing a lot about Killer and the fact that they argue like Ink and Error.

He cringed internally. This kid’s idea of romance stemmed from arguments and knowing a few fun facts. It saddened him to think about what this kid had witnessed between those two idiots. Well, at least Error had changed a little and seemed to care…
but he couldn’t fact-check Ink just yet. He hadn’t visited the Star Sanses in a while, but he’d definitely go see how Ink felt about all this—if he even remembered he had a kid to begin with.

Make that children, and he wasn’t just talking about Gradient.

He remembered hearing about a kid named Palette Roller, apparently an accidental spawn of Dream and Ink, but that was all he knew about him.
Cross was certain nobody else knew of his existence, especially not Error or even Paperjam for that matter. He internally cursed himself; he’d have to tell them at some point, but for now, he wanted to focus on studying Ink properly.. and getting him to know this goddamn kid.

Entering the dining room, he sat in his usual spot and soon had Paperjam right beside him. He couldn’t help but study the kid a bit; he hadn’t come to dinner in quite some time, not since his attempt.

Nightmare rose from the shadows and sat in his chair; he made no reaction to Paperjam’s appearance, which meant he probably convinced him to come to dinner again.
Cross blinked and looked away, noting he was getting too involved in his thinking.

Horror started setting out food on the long table: plates of chicken wings and fries, as well as a bowl of salad that probably three people would touch.
If he remembered correctly, Nightmare didn’t eat, Dust and Error thought vegetables belonged in hell, and Gradient hated them due to texture.
Horror liked them because of the vitamins they provided, Cross ate them out of politeness, and Killer learned to like vegetables after Horror force-fed them to him.

Though, he wasn’t sure about Paperjam’s preferences yet.

Cross huffed and helped Horror set the table to settle his anxiety, putting bowls and plates in proper order and distance, making sure nothing was crooked or misaligned. He sighed in contentment and sat down, feeling his mind ease.
Horror gave him a firm pat on the back before taking his own seat.

Killer sat across from him and Dust usually next to Horror, who sat at the end of the table, leaving Gradient to sit across from Error.
Everyone was in their proper spots and everything seemed normal until Killer opened his mouth.

“Hey, Criss-Cross~” Killer leaned on the table, touching the bowl of salad with a wide grin on his face. Cross felt his face heat up. “Don’t you dare.”
Killer gave him puppy dog eyes. “Don’t what?…” He turned the bowl slightly. “Do this?” Cross grabbed the bowl and turned it correctly with a scowl.

“Stop that,” earning him a mischievous grin from the skeleton who moved one piece of lettuce in the bowl. Cross stared at the salad in silence, counting every piece of vegetable in the bowl.

“Killer…” Horror huffed out, “don’t start your bullshit.” “What bullshit?”
Killer chuckled. “I’m not doing any harm.” “Mmhm.”

While Cross was focused on the bowl, Killer moved it, which had once held wings, to the other side of the table. Cross felt his face heat up purple. “Killer, stop messing up my setup!!” he yelled as he tried fixing it once again.

“Killer. Enough,” Nightmare commanded, but to no avail. Killer just stuck his tongue out and flicked another piece of lettuce out of place.

“Killer, you piece of—UGHH!!” Cross stood up. “You always do this shit!”
“Do what?” Killer asked with a mask of innocence, chuckling at the reaction Cross gave in response. “I’m gonna—”

Before Cross could finish, he noticed out of the corner of his eye Paperjam staring. He didn’t say anything; as a matter of fact, his face was unreadable, staring off into the distance as if he were somewhere else. He suddenly remembered their previous conversation, the one that kept him thinking all day in the first place.

“Gonna what?” Killer teased, but Cross was having none of it. “Stop, Killer.” “What?~ Are you mad that I messed up your arrangement?” “I said stop.”
Cross sat down while glaring at Killer. “I’m not arguing with you anymore.”

“Whoa- what’s with the attitude?” Killer put his hands up. “I was just joking—” “Well,” Cross cut in, “it’s not funny, so drop it!”
“Cross, what the fuck is your problem??”
“Maybe my problem is your annoying ass!”

Without thinking, he entered an actual bicker with Killer, one with actual anger and less joking than before. Soon it became yelling about nothing at all, really, just pure pettiness and a grievance Cross refused to name.

Nightmare stood up after a few attempts to calmly deescalate the situation, tentacles whipping around wildly as his face morphed into something horrific and full of anger.

“ENOUGH.” Nightmare shouted, all argument seizing at once. Cross tensed while Killer looked more annoyed. He heard a mumbled “here we go” from Dust, who just hid in his hood more.

“Both of you, enough.” Nightmare sat back down. “Sit down and eat the food Horror has graciously prepared.” He huffed and picked back up his tea. “I am very disappointed in both of you tonight.”

Cross felt his mind stop as he sat back down, slowly and surely. Killer only huffed and grabbed his plate, leaving the room. “Guess I’ll leave Mr. Perfectionist to it,” he said before walking out the door.
He felt bad, but at the same time, he didn’t. Killer deserved that for being an annoying piece of shit.

With a sigh, he glanced at Paperjam, who just sat with an almost full plate that was starting to cool, staring off where Killer had left. He was oddly quiet. Cross started to check on him before he suddenly got up and left the room. Nightmare got up with a sigh and followed, leaving Cross feeling heavy with guilt.

Dinner became a quick disaster, not because of Killer and Cross’s argument, but because Paperjam left the room.
Gradient watched Nightmare leave and abandon his dad, who clearly was stressed. In fact, his dad had been stressed since Paperjam walked into the room.

He noticed how tense the situation was and how his dad felt uncomfortable. Paperjam didn’t seem to care at all, just sitting there, picking at his plate and making Horror feel anxious.
Doesn’t he know Horror hates waste? Didn’t Nightmare tell him?
Paperjam seemed so selfish sometimes, getting all this attention only to take it for granted!

Gradient got up and walked beside his dad, staring up at him. He didn’t seem to notice he was even there. With a worried frown, Gradient hesitantly held his arm and laid his head against it.
He felt his dad shudder before relaxing, petting his head and giving a small smile.

“It’s OKAyyyy, Mini,” Error reassured, but Gradient didn’t believe that. He continued to comfort him and try to ease his stress, staring at the doorway where Paperjam had left with a small glare.
.

 

.

After dinner, Killer came back after being lectured by Nightmare, grumbling and scrubbing dishes as punishment. He didn’t understand what the hell Cross’s problem was! He never lashes out like that, especially with no explanation.
His soul was morphed with his anger as he scrubbed plates with an almost breaking force, black tears of hate dripping onto his jacket and leaving more stains for him to get out.

Perfect, this was perfect; he was great and totally not angry. He didn’t even care; in fact, he was done talking to Mr. Perfectionist or whatever the hell!

“Killer?” Oh, speak of the devil.

He decided to ignore him, keeping his back turned and continuing to scrub dishes. “..Killer.” He heard Cross walk closer. “Please don’t ignore me.”
Killer mumbled a mocked version of the sentence, scrubbing dishes harder and harder with each word.

He heard a couple of footsteps before a weight rested on his shoulder.

“…I’m sorry.”

Killer paused and glanced at Cross, who was a bit hunched over, trying to rest on his shoulder, arms crossed and face ridden with guilt.
With a sigh, he dried his hands and patted Cross’s head. “It’s fine, dude.” “But it’s not! I—” Cross huffed. “Look- I just didn’t wanna argue in front of Paperjam this time.”

That made him halt in thought. “…Huh?”

Cross lifted his head and leaned on the counter instead. “Look—while I was tutoring him this morning, he mentioned something about… us liking each other.” He broke out in a blush as he avoided eye contact.
Killer grinned a little. “Awww~ does Zabuza have a crush on me?~”
“We don’t even look the same!!” Cross groaned. “Ughh—anyway! The point is- on WHY he thought we liked each other.”

“Okay…” Killer drew out. “Annd that is?” “Because we argue.” Cross sighed. “And he gets that from Ink and Error! He said it himself—I just… I wanna make sure he feels at home here.”
Killer stared at him for a second; now where had this Cross been hiding? Usually, he didn’t care about any stranger, but he guessed Nightmare was right about the tutoring helping him. He just didn’t expect it to work this fast!

Although, the more he thought, the more he realized maybe Cross always had cared and never vocalized it or was always too afraid to show it.

A softer smile began to form as he leaned on the counter himself, letting their arms brush against each other.
“Well shit, that’s all you needed to say, dumb ass,” Killer chuckled. “I know I’m stupid, but I can stop arguing long enough for the kid to leave the room!”
Cross felt his face go purple with realization. “..Right—I could’ve..” He put his face into his hands. “I’m so stupid“

Killer punched his shoulder lightly. “Yep, that’s why you’re here. We’re the league of stupidity! And then there’s Nightmare.” “So we’re all stupid, but Nightmare isn’t?” Cross mused. “Or are you afraid he’s listening and he’ll lecture you again?” “Guess we’ll never know~”

They both found themselves snickering as Killer finished up his dishes. After a while of drying off plates and bowls, Cross spied a pair of eyes staring at them from behind the doorway. With more inspection, he realized who it was.

“…Paperjam?” Cross called out. “You.. can come in, y’know?” Killer leaned against the counter as Paperjam walked in awkwardly. The three stared at each other, all feeling too tense to move an inch.

“Just… grabbing a water,” Paperjam finally said before walking to the fridge and opening it. Cross noticed his tense demeanor and a bit of tightness in his voice; he’s not over dinner.

“…Paperjam I—” “Look, kid.” Killer cut in. “I’m sorry for starting an argument like that. And all the other arguments I’ve started since you’ve been here….” Paperjam glanced at them, his face laced with confusion. “…Huh?”

“…You- sorry. I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” Killer said, his grin tight. “We shouldn’t have done it… in front of you. Honestly, it was supposed to be silly banter, but—“ Cross punched his arm. “What he means is—we shouldn’t have argued in front of you.”
Killer stuck his tongue out at Cross before lightly shoving him. “Yeah, that. Before you rudely interrupted me.”
“I didn’t interrupt—you interrupted me first!” Cross huffed.

Paperjam just stared awkwardly while holding a water bottle. “…Cool.”

He walked to the doorway and paused when he saw Gradient about to walk in. Cross and Killer watched closely in case they needed to break up a fight, but to their surprise, Paperjam just walked out without acknowledging Gradient again.

“Thanks for the apology, I guess,” he said while walking out. Cross knew he didn’t truly accept it, but he’d earn forgiveness either way.

Gradient watched him leave before entering the kitchen. Killer smiled. “Hey! There’s my favorite nephew.”
Gradient didn’t say anything, only walked over to Killer and plopped his head against his side. Killer’s happy grin turned tight with worry. Glancing at Cross, he whispered, “You should go…”

Cross looked confused but nodded and left quickly, leaving the two to chat alone.

Gradient was sitting on the counter as Killer grabbed juice boxes from the fridge. “What’s up, mini Babadook?”
He was handed a juice box, which he quickly started chugging; all this stress had him thirsty. “It’s late; you should be in bed anyway…” Killer leaned against the counter beside Gradient, staring at him with a grin, but he could tell it was a worried one.

“…I dunno,” Gradient mumbled, continuing to sip his juice. Killer shook his head. “Nope, none of that! Tell me or I won’t fight the monsters tonight.”
He felt anxiety rise in his chest. “Okay! I just— I’m mad.” “Mad? ’Bout what?”

He hunched inward a bit and avoided eye contact. “..Paperjam. He’s been mean to Dad! And everyone, but still gets more attention.” Gradient crossed his arms, brows scrunched, “It’s not fair. He’s been stressing out Dad, and Nightmare, and everyone else! And doesn’t even care.”

Killer paused at this, his grin tightening more. “…It’s not like that, Gradient- it’s…” He sighed, putting an arm around Gradient. “Look, kid, Paperjam’s been through a lot. And his attitude isn’t for no reason… he just needs extra help with a lot of things.”

Gradient only huffed, lips forming into a small pout. “…Dad’s been ignoring me though—for him. Nightmare too.”
Killer pulled him closer. “…I’m sure they don’t mean to… They’re caught up in this drama and—” He paused. “…I can tell Nightmare for you, okay? I’m sure he’ll prove I’m right.”

With a wide grin, he started tickling Gradient a little on his side, which made him giggle and squirm. “Now quit frowning! It’s making me frown!”
“Stop! Haha! You’re so weird—” Gradient said while pushing Killer’s head. “If I’m not weird, then I’m just boring, now ain’t I?” Killer said while picking Gradient up. “Now it’s off to bed with you; you may be a Babadook, but you need your sleep.”

Gradient pouted immediately at that sentence. “But—” he pulled out the puppy eyes. “I wanted to play Minecraft with you…” Killer just stared with a raised brow. “Uh-huh, nice try.”
He started walking out of the kitchen and down the hallway. “But you know darn well you’ll fall asleep after five minutes.”
“No, I won’t—”
“Gradient, BFFR.” “You still never told me what that means—” Killer’s grin grew wider. “I’ll tell you when you’re a teenager.” “But—”
“Nope! I kinda want to live, thank you.”

They made it to Gradient’s room, where Killer laid him down. It was a bit messy, with hot wheels he’d gifted him a long time ago and a few clothes.

A big yawn left Gradient as he was tucked in. “Goodnight, Uncle Killer.” “Night, kid… I’ll make sure Nightmare comes to read you a bedtime story.” “..Okay.”

The hesitant answer made Killer’s grin tighten. Had Nightmare not been reading with him anymore? Ever since Gradient was born, he could remember Nightmare reading him to sleep every night… no, something was going on, and he was going to find out what.

Nightmare sighed as he sat in his office. A lamp, being the only source of light, illuminated the room in shadows as he sat within his own mind. This was becoming a headache: the constant negativity he had to fix from a parent and his spawn over and over, to no avail. And then dealing with idiots who were always one step away from killing one another, to top it all off.

Nightmare sighed; it wasn’t that he hated doing this, but after a while, it became tiring. He started grabbing a book when the sounds of heavy footsteps and then his door being busted open interrupted him.

“Killer, what is the—“

“We need to talk.” Nightmare blinked, stunned at the tone.
“Pardon? About what?”
“Your son,” Killer said as he kept walking closer to his desk.
“Whi—“
“The youngest.” Nightmare’s brows furrowed with concern.

“The young—Gradient? Why? What happened to him? Is he alright?” Killer waved a hand. “Calm down, mother hen. He’s alive—just. Haven’t you sensed his negativity or whatever the hell?”

In an instant, he closed his eyes and reached into Gradient’s soul. A blooming ball of negativity rested within, speaking of resentment, jealousy, anger, and abandonment. Nightmare blinked his eyes open as guilt filled his own soul, sinking into his desk.

“…I—I didn’t…”
“You didn’t know? Yeah, I noticed.” Killer sighed, leaning on the desk. “Think he’s totally misread the situation with Paperjam. He said he felt ignored by you and Error.” Nightmare felt more guilt as he sat in silence. He had been so caught up with Paperjam that he had forgotten all about his other duties—Gradient. He stood up.

“Thank you, Killer, for bringing this to my attention.”
“..Welcome, bro—“ Killer said. “..Don’t be too hard on yourself; parenting’s a bitch.” He snorted, “He wants a bedtime story by the—you’re gone.”
Killer stared at the empty spot where Nightmare once stood, sighing in relief that this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

. .

Nightmare rose from the shadows and stood at the door of Gradient’s room. He knocked twice before entering. The room was a mess, as expected of a child, but he was able to move around without tripping over clothes or toys. Gradient was asleep soundly in his bed, hugging a pillow as if it were a stuffed animal. Nightmare smiled fondly and moved to pet his head, but frowned at the sight of his glasses still on. Of course, Killer would forget that detail.

He started taking them off when Gradient suddenly yawned and opened his eyes. Yellow met cyan as they stared at each other. Nightmare took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand. “Shhh, go back to sleep…” he said in a hushed voice. “I did not mean to wake you.”

Gradient pouted a little. “…But—Uncle Killer said you’d read me a story—he promised…” Nightmare felt guilt in his soul, looking around the room for a book of some kind. He used a tentacle to pick one up off the floor, raising a brow.

“Why is this on the floor?”
Gradient sunk into the bed. “Whoops?” Nightmare shook his head and gathered the child in his arms, sitting on the bed himself and placing Gradient to lie in his lap.
He opened the book. “What chapter did you get to?” Nightmare glanced down at Gradient, who looked sheepish.
“Alright, I suppose I’ll read from the beginning.” He huffed playfully, earning a small giggle from Gradient.

He smiled a bit as he began to read, his voice deep but soothing. The strokes on Gradient’s head soon lulled him to sleep once more, yet Nightmare read on nonetheless.
There were still so many things to fix within this little family. Sometimes Nightmare wondered what he got himself into loving Error, but at the same time, he could never imagine a world without them.

Without the people he saw as brothers or simply children, never in his centuries of living would he expect to be a father. But now that he was somewhat of that title, he couldn’t help but feel a warmth deep within his soul.
He wouldn’t wish for anything to be different, not even a little bit.

Notes:

Aww, what a happy ending!

…..

Why do I have the feeling it won’t stick…?

Chapter 6: The Calm before the Storm

Summary:

Bonding over video games and movies in the comfort of family.
Nothing could possibly go wrong…

Notes:

I don’t know much about Mario Kart… so if anything’s wrong let’s pretend it’s right 💔
I googled everything about Mario Kart so we blame technology

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The colors of the sky shifted from purple and orange hues to blue as the moon became full instead of crescent. Time had flown since his first day living in this castle, and he had grown accustomed to the lifestyle.

The sessions with Nightmare started to feel comforting with each new location he chose; that week, he had chosen a special place. It was his first visit to another AU besides the one he was living in.

Paperjam learned that the abandoned AU where the castle resided was a fraction of a surface AU that Nightmare cast into permanent darkness. There were no day or night cycles, nor any seasons, but the sky shifted to indicate the time.

The AU Nightmare brought him to was called Outertale and was apparently Error's favorite. Nightmare had brought him there to discuss “family matters,” but there wasn’t much to discuss, at least not concerning his biological family. Even Paperjam himself was surprised he had taken a liking to the other people in the castle.

Nightmare was one he had come to trust a lot and see as a parental figure, or at least someone to look up to. The talks they had put him at ease, knowing he could talk about whatever and not be judged for it. He vented about his life and the fact he sometimes wished he didn’t exist. Nightmare listened to him, and that made Paperjam trust him.
The others were odd characters, but even then, he had grown accustomed to their lifestyles too.

Killer had found out about his nighttime walks or struggles to sleep most of the time, so he offered to take melatonin with him and play video games until they passed out. They played them or watched other people play, but they were always found sleeping on the couch in weird positions—somehow upside down or hanging off the couch—but either way, Paperjam enjoyed those nights.
The first thing Killer did was drag him to his car, which he didn’t drive much. It was an old beat-up car that Killer was working on and had stolen from a surface AU, according to him. Paperjam didn’t know how or why he’d want to steal a car, but he had fun shining a flashlight and teasing Killer for almost getting blown to shreds.

Paperjam had noticed Cross sticking around longer. He said he was there for tutoring Paperjam, but he wasn’t that stupid. Nightmare had mentioned Cross being distant and closed off, but never explained why. Apparently, Paperjam had been helping bring those walls down, but he had no clue how he managed that.

Cross had also started joining him and Killer on their nighttime gaming sessions, losing to Just Dance because of his lack of rhythm but winning every fighting game they had. Paperjam swore on his existence that Killer and Cross had a thing for each other, judging by the number of arguments they had and the amount of physical contact they shared. Ink and Error had the arguing down but not the physical touch. Paperjam was the last guy to talk to about romance, but even he could see between the lines.

The kitchen was Horror's area, and he learned most were banned from cooking anything. Paperjam became an exception because he just watched and licked the spoons from time to time while listening to Horror's stories. He already knew of Horror because of Ink's rants about AUs, but he learned more context from Horror.
His AU was set ten years in the future, and Asgore, the king of the underground, had been killed; Undyne, once head of the royal guard, became queen.

Undyne sounded like a raging bitch to Paperjam, especially after she shut down the core and let everyone starve! And for what? She also caused that huge crack in Horror's skull to fix her ego, as Horror said.
The guy didn’t seem bothered by it anymore, not since Nightmare helped him take down Undyne and feed everyone in the underground until they could fix the core.

Horror also told stories of his own brother, Papyrus, and about his human, Aliza. Horror said she was sweet, and he viewed her as a little sister, or even a daughter. Paperjam enjoyed the stories and cleaning the utensils. Everything Horror made was delicious, far better than not eating for an eternity if you asked him.

Horror was certainly more talkative compared to Dust, who hadn’t spoken a single word to Paperjam since he had been there. That isn’t to say they hadn’t interacted before, though. It was a late night when he saw the guy just sitting in the dining room… in the dark. He seemed out of it and not all there, but for some reason, Paperjam couldn’t help but feel bad.
So, he went to the kitchen, fixed up the same tea Nightmare makes during their talks, and set it in front of Dust. The two made eye contact before Paperjam just left him to his business.

That wasn’t the end. No, another late night, after Paperjam had a breakdown, he decided to sit in the living space; Dust came with tea and sat with him as he watched people play video games. No words were exchanged, and none were needed. This happened a few times, and neither spoke a word to each other; they liked it that way.

Paperjam had grown close to them, but he couldn’t say the same for Gradient and Error. He caught Gradient's glares or saw him becoming a little guard dog for Error, who hardly made eye contact with Paperjam and barely spoke a word. It was strange; Error wanted a connection, and suddenly he was too scared to have one now?
Paperjam felt something bigger was happening and that Error knew something he didn’t.

He was going to find out what.

“I hear you’ve been spending more time with my boys lately,” Nightmare’s voice cut through his thoughts. Paperjam shrugged and stared at the sky made of millions of colors and lights. They were called stars; the lights and the colors were made up of galaxies and nebulas billions of miles away.

“Only a shrug?” Nightmare mused. Paperjam rolled his eyes. “I mean—I guess? It’s not a big deal or anything.” Nightmare hummed with a smirk.
“I believe you and Killer’s nighttime habits would suggest otherwise.”

Paperjam opened his mouth, then closed it, huffing and continuing his sketch. “Do you remember what I said?” Nightmare asked while stirring his tea. “That—” “No feeling is a bad one and you’re allowed to feel what you need to feel, as long as it’s in a healthy way,” Paperjam interrupted in a sarcastic tone. “Yeah, yeah—okay, so I’m allowed to feel close to them, big deal.”

“If it is issues with trust—”
“No, it’s—” Paperjam sighed. “It’s not them…” Nightmare stared before his gaze softened in understanding.
“Ah, I see.” Paperjam glanced at him. “You’ve got one eye; I’m surprised you still can.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Nightmare grinned. “Funny. You’re starting to take after Killer.”
“I thought he was your favorite?” Paperjam grabbed his pastels. “He’s always saying he is.”

“Oh, Lord,” Nightmare huffed out. “I spoil him too much.”
“Aren’t you like… brothers?” Paperjam asked. “If you aren’t supposed to spoil, what do you even do with a brother anyway?”

Nightmare sipped his tea before speaking. “Hm... Well, I suppose you go with what you feel?” He paused. “Traditional siblings are known to fight every once in a while but also to love in the right moments.” A small sigh escaped him as he peered at the golden hues in the sky. “However... I fear not every sibling follows tradition.”

“You talking about Dream?” Paperjam asked, setting his drawing down while looking concerned at Nightmare, who only gave a small smile.
“When will you tell me what happened between you two, anyway?”

Nightmare grimaced at the question. “It is not a story you’d want to know—“
“There’s a lot of stories I don’t want to know, yet I know them,” Paperjam said. “One more won’t kill me. Besides,” he pointed at Nightmare, “you know everything about me! I can’t know your tragic backstory like you know mine?”
“In time.”

Nightmare sighed as he chugged the rest of his tea. “But changing the subject will not distract me.” He poured himself more tea. “Now, about your father...” Paperjam huffed. “He’s been ignoring me? Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
“Paperjam—“
“What? It’s true.” He grumbled. “And HE’S the one who wanted to ‘fix our relationship’—or whatever.”

Nightmare only looked sadly. “…He’s... the event with your arm has set his mind off.” He paused for a moment. “…and... reminded him of another time.”
Paperjam perked up at that. “Another time? What happened??”
Nightmare put a hand up, pausing Paperjam’s questions. “You’ll know—“
“I swear if you say ‘in time’—“
“In time.”

Paperjam groaned. “You’re impossible!!”
“No,” Nightmare grinned. “I’m Nightmare. And one day you will know. For now...” He grimaced. “It’s time to fix this... problem.”
Paperjam raised a brow. “And... how do you plan to do that?”
.

 

.

 

.

So when Nightmare said he would "fix the problem," this wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

Here he was, sitting on the floor in front of Killer, beside Gradient, who was just eyeing him like a hawk. Paperjam decided to ignore him and the bubbling feelings of loneliness and not belonging anywhere and try to just, for once, enjoy his time. Once upon a time, he would’ve loved a fight. Well, not really loved, more like fed an itch for revenge, filled the hollowness of his soul. That itch grew into something else now, an itch to belong and just have a place to call home.

Paperjam felt Killer leaning forward from the couch, looking up and seeing the skeleton peering down at him.
“You okay?” he asked, his grin a bit tight. “You were spaced out a little.” Paperjam only shrugged and looked forward again, deciding to look around the room.

Horror was in his usual spot, an armchair beside the actual couch. Dust was sitting on the armrest of Horror’s chair like some sort of cat, leaning on him as he mumbled.
Dust always seemed to mumble, but Paperjam could never make out what he was saying.
Cross was on the end of the couch, Killer was behind Paperjam in the middle, and the empty spot was for Nightmare or Error, he guessed.
That was the moment Paperjam realized they were missing entirely; his brows furrowed at the empty spot, and his eyes fixated with a glare.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Killer huffed. “You’re glaring at the couch now. What the hell did it do to you? Was it pulling your strings?” he said with a slight snicker but quickly went serious again. “No, but seriously, what’s wrong?”

Paperjam sighed and leaned back on the couch, trying to ignore the side-eye from Gradient. “Nothin’,” he mumbled, glancing at his art bag beside him. “Where’s Night?” Killer paused before looking around. “Uhh, last I checked, Error and him walked out of the room; no idea where they are now.”

“I think I know,” Cross piped up, leaning just a bit closer to Killer. “I heard him talking about… umm, something about you, actually.” He gestured to Paperjam, who only rolled his eyes. “Course…”

Cross waved his hands. “It didn’t sound like anything bad!” he quickly reassured. “More like… planning? I’m not really sure, but it wasn’t anything drama-related.” Paperjam raised a brow. “Okay…” He sat back against the couch again, between Killer’s legs. “Can we at least do something more interesting? Like, I don’t know... video games?”
Killer practically leapfrogged over Paperjam and quickly started setting everything up. “I CALL BOWSER!”

“Mario Kart?” Horror sat up a bit. “You only like that game because you always win.” Killer’s grin widened. “Exactly.”
Paperjam heard Dust snicker.

“’Cause he’s a sore loser.”
“I AM NOT!” Killer threw a controller at him. “Shut up and choose that ghost fucker already!”
“I don’t always choose him.”
“Uhhh, yeah, you do!”
“No—”
“You LITERALLY are about to pick it right now.”

Dust looked at the screen and huffed, picking Ghost Guy. “Still don’t prove you’re right.”
“BRUH—”

“Enough fighting, you two!”
Paperjam whipped his head around and saw Nightmare entering with Error. By their stance, it seemed the conversation was a serious one, or at least the plan Cross said they were making was.
Error was hunched and tense, Nightmare touching his back ever so slightly for comfort.

“He started it!” Killer groaned. “And we weren’t fighting; it was friendly banter~” He grinned while flipping a knife in his hand. Nightmare only stared back with an “are you kidding me?” look.
“What?” Killer asked. “I was only going to lightly stab him…”
“Stab?…”
“Lightly!” Killer emphasized.

“Stab me, and I’ll show you why I’m called ‘Murder,’” Dust sneered. Killer chuckled. “Murder? I thought you were Dust Bunny?”
“Oh now I’m really gonna kill you.”

“Enough!” Nightmare huffed out. “You two are insufferable.”
“Hey! You’re the one who kidnapped ME!” Killer pointed to Nightmare with his knife. “I didn’t ask to be here!”
“Yes, but you chose to stay despite that,” Nightmare reminded him, his face full of annoyance as he glanced at the TV screen. “Why are you Bowser?”

“Because I got here first!” Killer grinned. Nightmare walked over to Killer, leaving Error to watch unamused.
“I’m Bowser, remember? I claimed him years ago!” Nightmare pointed to Bowser on the screen. Killer groaned. “Oh my gooooodughh! Please just say ‘dibs,’ you dinosaur!”
“I am not of dinosaur age! They are billions of years older than I!”
“Yeah, but you LOOK billions of years old—”
“I DO NOT!—”

As the two bickered, Paperjam glanced at Error again. He was standing awkwardly by himself, which was odd for his character. Something tight filled his chest and made it a struggle to breathe. It was worry, genuine worry, something he’d never imagine feeling towards his father.

Paperjam watched as Error walked toward Gradient, who had also been watching Error with the same worry plastered across his face. He picked him up and sat crisscross a few inches away from Paperjam, keeping Gradient close in his lap.

Error wasn’t always the affectionate type, but this side of the skeleton only made the tightness tighter, watching him nuzzle his cheek against Gradient’s bare skull as he held him close.

This made Paperjam wonder how much he affected people. The change in attitude, this depressive mood, all because he didn’t want to exist. But Error, for some stupid reason, wanted him to.

Paperjam couldn’t understand why.

“Earth to Jam! Helloooo!” Killer waved a controller in his face. “You gonna take the controller or what?” Paperjam left his thoughts and grabbed the controller, ducking as Killer hopped back into his spot. Nightmare made eye contact with him as he sat beside Killer, giving a small smile as a greeting.
Paperjam would’ve returned the smile if his throat hadn’t felt closed up and his chest hadn’t been tight.
Nightmare frowned and opened his mouth, but Paperjam turned his gaze away to the TV.

Dust, Killer, Paperjam, and Gradient were the first four players. On a normal day, he’d be really good at this game, but he just felt so distracted.
He felt Gradient’s attacks to be targeted, constant bananas thrown his way, or at least attempted to be thrown. He tried not to let it get to him and to continue having fun.

He focused his mind on the playfulness from Killer when Paperjam stunted him or the jokes from Horror when Dust got behind. How Nightmare intentionally tried to distract Killer so he’d fall behind during the race. Brotherly love, he thought; hateful yet it was out of love.

As the race ended, he glanced at Gradient in a different light. Gradient was giggling at Killer’s annoying victory dance he did every time he won something. For some reason, it warmed his soul, and the tightness in his chest lessened. He scooted a little closer to Error and his brother, just a little.

Nightmare had initially felt this idea was all going to go to shit. Error was nervous about upsetting Paperjam, and it took a lot of reassurance to tell him he had changed and he wasn’t as angry anymore. That he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

As the round went on, he noticed the tension among the family on the floor. He could only sigh and distract himself by messing with Killer; usually, his suffering brought amusement, but the stress chained him.
He knew Killer noticed when worry clouded his joy; he’d been with him the longest. Through kidnapping and a messy relationship that ended in heartbreak, but formed into brotherhood. That mortal knew him in every way possible; he couldn’t hide his emotions even if he tried.

A few mumbled “are you okay?”’s and worried glances later, and he still somehow won the first round and started picking the map for the second. Nightmare noticed a change in emotions, Paperjam’s to be precise; it was love, but it wasn’t reciprocated by the people he was looking at.

Error had a mixture of emotions, but Gradient kept his hate, only feeling joy for the ridiculous victory dance Killer insisted on doing every time he won something, even during missions. He was surprised the mortal hadn’t died from his stupidity.

Bringing his focus back to the family on the floor, he thought of ways to bring the brothers closer together. Quickly Nightmare jabbed Killer before he could press start. “OW!” Killer shouted.
“The hell—” “Maybe!” Nightmare interrupted with a grin. “Gradient and Paperjam should go against Killer… see if their TEAMWORK can defeat the oh-so-victorious Killer~”

Killer sat confused, but a quick look from Nightmare made him play along despite knowing absolutely nothing. “Yeaaah… Let’s see if my favorite nephews can defeat their favorite uncle!” Killer grinned widely. “But I doubt it~” Paperjam mimicked the grin. “Oh, you’re on!”

“Oh well fuck me then” Dust huffed before he threw the controller away, laying back “Guess I’ll just die”
“Go to sleep crybaby” Killer stuck this tongue out and received a middle finger from Dust in return.

Gradient smiled at first but quickly fell once he processed he had to work with Paperjam, fixing a pout instead.
Error squeezed him and shot him a glare that screamed “behave.” Gradient huffed and mumbled a “whatever.”

Nightmare grinned tightly at Killer. “Maybe you’ll win! Who knows?”
Killer faked a laugh and leaned closer to Nightmare. “The hell are you doing??” “I’m TRYING to get those two to bond!” Nightmare whisper-yelled. “And if they beat you, maybe the victory will bring them closer together.”
“What?!” Killer shouted before ducking his head and whispering, “What??”
“Look, just—pretend to lose for them,” Nightmare begged, brows scrunched with all the stress he’d had this past year. “..for me?”

Killer’s grin twitched as he huffed. “You’re lucky I learned how to give a shit about people—” He quickly fixed the game to three players. “Alright, boys! Let’s do this~”
Paperjam raised a brow, squinting in suspicion at the two skeletons before turning his head toward the screen.

The game started, and he noticed Gradient and him falling behind almost immediately. For once, he wasn’t throwing bananas at him, but he was still missing Killer. Paperjam glanced at him and huffed. Leaning closer to him, he whispered, “Use the right joystick to use the camera.”
Gradient looked at him confused. Paperjam chuckled and clicked the joystick. “See? 360 camera, better aim for your little bananas… and maybe start using shells; they can hit Killer indefinitely… sort of.”

Gradient looked wary but decided to do what he said, and after a few hits at Killer, they were finally ahead in the game. “Haha! We’re beating you! We’re beating you!”
Killer groaned. “Nooo! The betrayallll—” “You’ve been training me in Mario Kart just for me to beat you~” Paperjam put a hand on Gradient’s shoulder, giving him a little shake. “And now I shall train my brother to beat you too!” He jabbed Killer. “I’m coming for that crown!”

Nightmare gave a small smile and felt himself relax, watching Error closely as he observed the brothers, for once, laugh instead of fight. Error seemed to lighten up and begin to break free from his mind.

After the round ended and the duo won, Gradient jumped up and began mocking Killer’s victory dance, dragging Paperjam up with enough begging and force to make him join in. Killer whined and invaded Cross’s personal space, much to his protest and shoving.

Nightmare felt at peace for the first time in months, sinking into the couch as the group continued more rounds of Mario Kart and soon settled on a movie when the sky shifted into purples and golds to announce the night.
.

 

.

Paperjam worked on finishing the touch-ups for the artwork from Outertale. The constellations were burned in his memory along with the colors the many galaxies emitted, all blending into one beautiful painting in the sky, light-years away. In that moment, he could see why Error loved Outertale so much.
It was peaceful and quiet, beautiful, and maybe... just maybe the colors reminded him of Ink. Paperjam felt a connection to Ink while staring at the many colors; it seemed like a place he’d enjoy too. But that was in a distant past, and he began to understand how much Ink and Error could never have worked.

Still, Paperjam missed ink sometimes, even if he wasn’t the best. He just wished Ink could miss him too.

He leaned back against the couch, tuning out the snores from behind him. Nightmare had gone out cold on Killer a few minutes into the movie; he said he didn’t need sleep, but Paperjam guessed he was so exhausted that sleep chose him. Dust had put Gradient to bed ages ago, along with himself, and Horror decided he was too lazy to move anywhere, so he chose to remain on the couch.
Cross was wide awake—no surprise there—but Killer was trying to lull him to sleep or at least get him to relax. After a few failed attempts, he simply yanked Cross onto his lap and forced him to relax instead.

Glancing at Error, he noticed he had stopped holding Gradient after the victory dance and chose to sit in a strange position instead, one leg up and the other sprawled out in front of him, his back grazing the couch, almost as if he were afraid to touch it. Paperjam felt the same concern but decided to keep working on his art piece.

After a few moments, he heard small shuffles of movement beside him and felt eyes watching him.

Paperjam glanced quickly and saw Error scooted closer, watching him draw. A spike of anxiety pierced his soul, and he tried to keep blending the colors together, ignoring Error's intense stare, but he couldn't help but feel distracted.
Even Nightmare's eyes made him nervous, and he had no clue why. There was suddenly a need to do everything perfectly, and he kept making mistakes. It started to feel like too much, and he wanted so badly to scoot away and hide his artwork from prying eyes.

"Is-Is That Out-Outertale?"

Paperjam turned his head toward Error and glanced at his artwork. "...yes?" Error scooted a bit closer. " Whennnn Did you go Too-OOO Outertale?"
"Oh, uh..." Paperjam fumbled with the sketchbook's pages and avoided eye contact. "Today? Well-earlier today anyway. Therapy stuff..."

“Oh," Error said. "...Okay."

The two sat in silence for a moment; it was awkward and a bit tense. This was the first conversation, if you could even call it that, they had had in what felt like months, and it was already off to a rocky start.

Paperjam broke the silence with a sigh and closed the distance between them, showing Error the drawing better. "Think I'm missing anything?"
Error glitched slightly at the sudden contact. " ..wh- Whaaaattt do you Mean?"
“Y'know..." Paperjam drew out, "since it's your favorite AU? You know it better than anyone...?"
That cracked a smile from Error. "You' dddd be RightTTT-" He looked closer at the drawing. "You have MmmOssst of The Details, But it Neeeeds more BLUEsss"

After a few critiques, Error concluded he was accurate enough for his standards. Paperjam added a few finishing touches and ripped out the paper, holding it out to Error. “Here.”
Error looked puzzled. “…Uhh, what?”
“Take it, dumbass,” Paperjam rolled his eyes, shoving it into his hands. “It’s called a gift. Besides, if I keep it, it’ll rot in this sketchbook.”
With hesitation, Error stared at the drawing in awe, and Paperjam started to worry he hated it.

“It’s—if you don’t—“
“I love it.” Paperjam blinked at the sound of Ink’s voice, brows furrowing a bit. “…I’m glad.”
Error let out a heavy cough. “Sorry—I made things weird. I just…” He let out a glitched sigh. “You remind me of Ink sometimes…”

Paperjam felt his soul stop, the tightness returning to his chest as his throat closed up.

“I—no!—sorry—“ Error set down the drawing and waved his hands quickly. “In a good way!—sort of. FUCK! Uhhh—I meant—“ he paused for a second. “I—once upon a time…I LOVED Ink, and you remind me of his good sides.”

Paperjam didn’t know how to react to that statement. Should he be glad? Or should he feel remorse for making Error upset, or be mad he was being compared to his deadbeat father right now? So he just stared at Error instead, face blank as the awkward silence filled the air once more.

“…Sorry- that—“ Error coughed into his fist. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, Paperjam.” He huffed out, “IMmm Fucking this Uppp—”
“No Dad—“ Paperjam paused his speech as Error whipped his head towards him. The two made eye contact and just stared in shock at what had just been said.
Paperjam turned his head toward the TV as his face grew flushed, teeth stuck together as his throat closed up.

“…Did—“
“Nope!” Paperjam shouted. Error grinned. “But you—“
“I didn’t! You’re hearing things, old man!” Paperjam let out a panicked laugh. “Maybe get your ears checked—“
“Paperjam!” Error huffed. “I Know WhAT I heeeeard.”
“No, you don’t…?”
“Paperjam.” Error gave him an awkward one-armed hug. “You Donttt have To Call Me Dad, okay? So Chill Out.”

Paperjam glanced at him before awkwardly returning the one-armed hug. “..Can I call you Babadook?”
Error playfully pushed him onto the floor. “Okay, Now I’m OVvvver This.”

Paperjam laughed as he met the floor. “But Killer—“
“Is An ABOMINATION!”
“Well, aren’t you fun at parties,” Killer huffed from the couch. “Not my fault you look like a Babadook.”
“I DONtttt EVENNNn KNOW whAAAt THAF Means!” Error used his strings to make Killer smack himself. “OW—Bruh!”

“If you don’t shut up,” Nightmare grumbled. “I wish to sleep in silence.”
Killer whacked him with a pillow. “Sleep in your bedroom, princess.”
Nightmare let out a loud groan as he sagged in his chair. “After all I’ve done for this household…”

Killer rolled his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Nightmare. “Go to sleep, sleeping beauty; the man of the house will guard against evil dragons.”
“You’re barely in charge of your cats, let alone this castle,” Nightmare said as he leaned more against Killer. “Now shut up and let me sleep, or I’ll haunt your nightmares.”
Killer patted his shoulder. “Now your name makes sense.”
“Oh my gosh.”

Paperjam snickered a bit as he leaned back on the couch, bringing his knees to his chest. He bathed in the warmth he felt after being cold for so long.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d found a place he belonged in, surrounded by people who knew he existed and brought new voices to his name.
In that moment, he didn’t hate existing and instead relished the company he never knew he wanted.

It’s a shame good moments never tend to stay good moments.

Notes:

Heads up: Prepare for chapter 7

Notes:

Oooooo!!
The plot thickens 👀