Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pencil awoke with a gasp, clutching her chest as she sat upright. She’d expected the time magic to hurt, but she didn’t think it’d be that bad. The woman’s whole body was burning up like she was really on fire -Pencil knew the feeling of being set ablaze well- and needed to be put out before she died. The pain faded quickly, but Pencil could still feel a spark of magic flow through her form if she thought about it for too long.

Looking around, Pencil realized that she was in some sort of forest. Massive trees loomed overhead, hundreds of feet tall with moss and lichen painting their bark. Wildflowers were spread across the ground, their stems and leaves flowing and intermingling like a mushroom mycelium system. A river flowed distantly, rushing water heard but not seen. Bugs scurried through the undergrowth, a few brave enough to crawl along Pencil’s legs until she crushed them beneath a shaking fist. This wasn’t the field she where she had first seen that speaker box, and Pencil doubted that she was even in Goiky anymore.

That damned number had lied to her! Pencil slammed her fist into the dirt, enraged. Pencil should have known better than to give away ultimate power to the first number that knew how to smooth-talk. How could she be so stupid!? Why in the world would she think to trust a number!?

Staggering to her feet, Pencil sighed. That number -One?- was probably eons away by now; there was no way Pencil would get that power back. Glancing around once more, Pencil, unable to see any defined paths through the woods, picked a random direction and started walking. She probably should have put more thought into where she was going, but she didn’t even know what the was walking towards. Her friends? They’d abandon her the moment they heard about what she had done. The competition grounds? What was the point of competing anymore? Two’s power was gone. There was nothing to battle for.

Pencil wondered there was even anybody still alive. The challenge had been to kill everybody, and if Pencil was the last one standing, and she was just now waking up, then there would be nobody to recover the dead contestants. Did that mean that she was alone in the world? There were still other people on earth, yes, but nobody else in Goiky. If nobody else was alive, then Pencil was on her own. Maybe she could find a recovery center and bring back her dead friends (if she even had any left).

The forest was dense, the meagre light filtering through the leaves above barely enough to guide Pencil’s way through the shrubbery. The air was warm, at the very least, so Pencil had that going for her. Plus, it was daytime. Pencil couldn’t imagine having to navigate through the maze of a forest without light, however spackled and faded it was.

Kicking a rock into a bush, Pencil glanced over at a patch of flowers. They were a deep purple with orangish centres of bountiful pollen. Crouching down next to one, Pencil stroked its velvety petals, careful not to tear the delicate plant.

“What the-“ a gruff voice muttered from behind Pencil. The woman startled, jostling the flower into releasing a cloud of orange pollen. Pencil screamed as she felt it get into her eyes, burning like acid. The writing utensil clawed at her eyes, trying to rid herself of the painful sensation. A curse was hissed out from behind Pencil before something grabbed her by the arm, dragging her off to who knows where.

Cold water filled Pencil’s senses as she felt herself be dunked under. Pencil struggled against the force keeping her under, kicking and punching blindly. She just woke up, she wasn’t going to die so quickly. Pencil’s fist connected with something hard, eliciting a grunt of pain.

“Stop that! I’m trying to help you!” The scratchy voice yelled as Pencil was dragged out from the water. The woman only had enough time for a desperate gasp for air before being dunked under again. Opening her eyes against the burning sensation, Pencil found that the cool water soothed the pain of the stinging pollen. Pencil was only under the current for a few moments longer before being thrust back into the open air, falling onto her back with a cough. A blurry shape hovered over her body, piercing blue contrasting with a calm grey.

In fact, the whole world seemed to be blurry. Colours smudged together like a child’s finger painting that was given up on partway through. At first, Pencil had just thought that it was residual water in her eyes, but as she dried, the blurriness stayed. Everything meshed together as if the forest was supposed to be a woven tapestry but all the colours were put into the wrong places.

“How are your eyes? Can you see me?” The blue figure shifted as it talked. No- as she talked. Pencil knew that voice well; how could she ever forget it? A blue painted metal body and mesh head, slightly warped from Pencil’s messed up vision. The woman sported some sort of green wrapping on her torso; questionably and garishly ugly, but not worth mentioning.

“Fanny,” Pencil grit, spitting out the name like it was laced with poison. Of all the people that she could run into, why did it have to be her!?

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me, who could have guessed,” Fanny mocked, her face in a weird half-snarl, “now answer my question. Can you see me?” Pencil nearly stayed silent out of spite, but after a moment, she realized how bad of an idea that was. She could barely make out the world around her, and she didn’t have powers anymore. Fanny had all the high ground, and Pencil had a feeling that despite being on a sissy team that cried about death, Fanny wouldn’t hesitate to attack. Fanny wasn’t very strong, but she was aggressive and would definitely fight dirty.

“Everything’s a bit blurry, but I can still see,” Pencil answered, a half-truth. Fanny hummed, taking a step back as Pencil stood up. Shaking off the last droplets of liquid that clung to her form, Pencil revelled in how Fanny flinched back at the spray of cold river water.

“No thanks to you. The river probably screwed up my vision when you tried to drown me,” Pencil accused, taking a defensive stance. Fanny scoffed at her words, cocking her hip with unearned sass.

“First of all, that’s not how water works,” Fanny retorted, “and second, you should be grateful you can even see in general. If that acid wasn’t diluted by the river, you wouldn’t have eyes at all. Honestly, I don’t even know why you were so ignorant as to stick your face in a stinging fume flower in the first place.” The fan shifted near constantly as she talked, as if no position was comfortable enough to stay in for longer than a second.

“A stinging what flower?” Pencil questioned, rolling her shoulders back.

“A stinging fume flower. Do- do you not know what that is?” Fanny explained, seeming to be genuinely confused at Pencil’s lack of knowledge.

“Believe it or not, not everybody is a plant nerd, idiot,” Pencil sneered back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, it’s hard to not know what they are when they’re everywhere!” Fanny shouted back, “have you been hiding under a rock for the past three months!? I mean- next you’re going to tell me you don’t know what a saproot tree is!”

“I don’t know what a saproot tree is,” Pencil deadpanned, her hands dropping to rest on her hips. It was hard to make out, but Fanny’s expression seemed to drop at her words. The fan was silenced for a few moments, opening her mouth a couple times like a gasping fish on grass.

“Where… have you been for the past three months?” Fanny asked slowly, taking a subtle step back. Pencil used the opportunity to take a more heightened stance, straightening her back and standing to her full height.

“What do you mean- I- three months? What in wood’s name are you talking about?” Pencil inquired in what she hoped was an authoritative tone.

“After the last challenge. You just- disappeared. Nobody could find you, you couldn’t be recovered… nothing. Everybody thought you had somehow managed to permanently die once the challenge ended. Do you…” Fanny trailed off, looking Pencil in the eyes for what was probably the longest period of time in her life.

“Three months…” Pencil muttered, “that… no- the last challenge just happened. I- are you trying to trick me!?” She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger towards the fan in front of her. Fanny simply sighed tiredly in response.

“Great, so she either managed to time travel or I’ve got an amnestic on my hands. Because this just had to get worse,” Fanny mumbled to herself, not quite low enough to be out of Pencil’s hearing range, “listen,” she began, her voice louder, “I need you to tell me exactly what you remember happening before I found you.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Pencil laughed, leaning forward to come face-to-face with the short fan. Fanny scoffed, rolling her eyes and taking another step back.

“Pencil, I’m being very generous right now; I don’t have to do this, I could just leave you behind and go about my day pretending I didn’t see you,” Fanny illuminated, her tongue laced with venom.

“Then why don’t you? It’d be less for me to deal with,” Pencil snarked back, her hands curling into fists.

“Because you’d be dead within an hour,” Fanny responded simply, “think about it, Pencil. You’re practically blind in a dangerous forest that you’re apparently unfamiliar with. Half the plants here can and will kill you in the blink of an eye, and you’ll never see it coming. You will not survive out here on your own, and I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s nobody else around. It’s just us. I’m all you’ve got, so you can either lose the attitude, or you can be left alone to figure out just how many ways you can die to a plant.” This time, Pencil was the one who was shocked into silence. She wanted to call Fanny a liar, but it felt too real. Her words were too specific to be made up. Fanny was telling the truth.

“When the challenge ended, I found a… way… to travel through time,” Pencil mustered, unable to look the other woman in the eyes -not that she’d be able to see them very well if she did- “I tried to go back, but I guess something went wrong, because I apparently went forward three months into the future. I’ve been here for less than ten minutes.” Pencil wanted to take back her words immediately, but it was too late. What Fanny was going to do with that information, she wasn’t sure, but it was out there nevertheless.

Fanny hummed in response, tapping her foot against the rocky riverbed as she thought. She was silent for a long time, pondering something, either Pencil’s words or their situation. Pencil wasn’t sure, nor did she even think it mattered.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do,” Fanny spoke slowly, as if the words weren’t sure if they wanted to come out of her mouth, “you’re going to come with me, and you’re going to travel by my side until either we find your team or one of us dies. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Believe it or not, your team still cares about you -for some reason- and really, you don’t have many options here,” the woman offered, her gruff voice growing evermore cocky as she spoke.

“Fine,” Pencil grit back, “but as soon as we find my team, I’m leaving you behind.” She spoke as if ridding Fanny of her presence was some sort of punishment. Fanny nodded, turning around and beginning to walk away. Pencil followed a few steps behind, careful to not make herself seem too desperate. Which she wasn’t! Pencil hated Fanny just as much as the spiteful woman hated her. In Pencil’s time, she’d just killed Fanny less than an hour ago!

Pencil hated how it had to be Fanny. Of all the people that could have found her, it had to be the worst person she knew. Pencil could deal with Golfball’s narcissistic nerdy rants. Pencil could deal with Bottle’s overwhelmingly annoying cheeriness. Pencil could maybe deal with Grassy’s whining and Book’s anger. Pencil could not deal with Fanny’s enraged yelling and constant frustration. Pencil didn’t mind admitting the fact that the fan was an auditory bother to all who came near, especially Pencil herself. She’d considered herself lucky that they hadn’t interacted all too much after her rejoin. Pencil’s luck seemed to have run out, however.

“Careful of that plant,” Fanny mentioned, nodding towards a piece of foliage nearly indistinguishable from everything else around it thanks to Pencil’s blurry vision, “don’t go touch it, don’t smell it; actually, just don’t go near it at all.” The fan gave the plant a wide berth as she walked, Pencil following and doing the same. The silence stretched on between them for a few moments longer before Fanny spoke again, because she just had to flaunt her voice, didn’t she?

“I have a camp not too far from here where we can settle in for the night. In the morning, I’ll pack everything up and we’ll get on our way. I hate not having a permanent residence, but we’ll never find your team if we have to keep returning to the same place whenever it gets dark,” Fanny explained, a leaf crunching beneath her foot like a shattering glass pane. Pencil nodded at her words, then nearly facepalmed at her stupidity. Fanny was walking in front of her with her back turned; she couldn’t see Pencil. By the time she got over herself, it was too late to reasonably respond without making things even more awkward, so Pencil remained silent.

All things considered, the forest probably would have been nice scenery if Pencil was able to properly see it. Speckles of colour dotted the ground and sometimes the leaves above; Pencil assumed them to be flowers, but maybe some were fruit or berries. Birds cawed distantly as squirrels bolted up trees, ants crawling back to their hills and bees buzzing indifferently. The forest was alive, a very harsh contrast to how Pencil remembered the world when she disappeared. According to Fanny, it had only been three months since the challenge, which begged the question:

How the lead did the world change so quickly?

Chapter Text

Fanny’s supposed camp had turned out to be just a small circle of cleared plants with a makeshift tent and fire hole in the middle. The foliage had been cut back intently, and the tent looked to be made of sturdy materials, but that didn’t make it any less pathetic. It was put in a decent spot, Pencil would give her that; the trees were good cover from the elements while still leaving room for plenty of sunlight. The fire hole was surrounded by stone so no forest fires were started accidentally.

Also, it seemed that Fanny didn’t know the definition of ‘not too far’ as it was practically night when they reached the camp. As soon as they entered, Fanny grabbed a satchel from inside the tent, used a chunk of flint and metal striker to light the fire anew, threw in a few bits of fresh wood and sat down to poke at it with a stick. Pencil sat opposite her, the fire burning brightly between them.

“You should go to sleep,” Fanny suggested, “you’ll need your energy for tomorrow, because we’ll be doing a lot of walking.” The fan fiddled with the stick in her grasp, staring down at the charred end intently.

“Not until you tell me what happened here,” Pencil contended, the darkness of the forest making it hard to focus on anything other than the flame in front of her.

“You’re going to need to be more specific than that if you want answers. I hate having to guess people’s intentions!” Fanny shouted, her face still caught up in that weird half-snarl that seemed to be her new normal.

“What happened to the world!” Pencil yelled, standing and gesturing at everything around her, “why is there a giant forest here now!? Why does nearly everything here want to kill us!? Where’s the hotel? Or the recovery centre? Where is everybody else!?” Pencil panted slightly at the end of her rant, staring down at Fanny, waiting. Fanny sighed, looking into the fire with a slightly somber expression.

“When the challenge ended, nobody really knew what to do. Two was powerless, Four and X were gone, the world was a wasteland, and Two’s power, the very thing we were competing for, was gone without a trace. For the first few days, we were just getting settled and trying to figure things out,” Fanny grimaced, throwing a few sticks into the fire.

“And then, Golfball made a… machine. She’d somehow recalibrated the recovery centre to work differently. It couldn’t be used to recover anybody anymore, but as long as nobody was stupid, we’d be fine without recovery. It was supposed to bring life back to the earth. By then, our planet had fallen into a nearby star’s orbit, so we already had sunlight back, we just needed vegetation. The machine made everything spring back to life; don’t ask me how it works, I’m not entirely sure. Some sort of science jargon. But eventually, everything had returned back to normal; the machine worked. The only problem? It worked too well.” The fan started to poke at the flames again, shifting around the burning sticks and fliching when a floating spark landed on her leg.

“The plants practically multiplied like rabbits. Nobody could shut off the machine to stop it; not even Golfball herself. We tried to get rid of the excess plants, but the machine worked faster than we ever would. Within a few days, the entire world had essentially turned into a jungle. The machine eventually shut off due to the vegetation getting its mechanisms clogged, but by then, it was already too late.” Pencil sat back down, resting her elbows on her knees as she listened silently.

“Soon enough, scouting parties were sent into the forest to gather information. We knew that some of the plants were dangerous, we just didn’t know why. Eventually though… they stopped coming back. Nobody who went into the forest came back out. And then, there was a… fight. I can’t remember who started it, or even how much was said, I just know that by the end, everybody had split off either in groups or went off on their own.” Fanny’s grip on the poking stick tightened as she prodded the blazing wood.

“My team stayed together; we always did. We were fine for a while, but then…” Fanny trailed, her foot shaking as she was entranced by the glowing ball of heat, “we were… separated. I’ve been on my own since then. Well… until I found you, that is,” the fan finished, her voice low and shaky. Pencil remained silent, glancing between Fanny and the flames. That was… a lot. There was apparently no recovery; if Pencil died, that was it. The orange woman shivered at the thought, wondering what permanent death would feel like. Would it ever be any different than regular death? If she died and didn’t come back, would she even know?

“Alright, I answered your question, now go to sleep. Take the tent, I’ll keep an eye out in case somebody comes by here,” Fanny added after a few more moments of silence.

“Has anyone ever come by here?” Pencil asked, standing up and glancing over at the aforementioned tent.

“Just go to sleep, Pencil,” Fanny sighed, her attention returning to the fire. Pencil, wanting both to push the woman but also not wanting to listen to her incessant yelling, simply walked away and entered the tent, zipping up the entrance.

The tent was small, only containing a sleeping bag and a minuscule, ratty blanket. Pencil shuffled into the sleeping bag, feeling the rocky ground dig into her back painfully. Pulling up the blanket, Pencil stared up at the tent’s enclosed top. A few holes littered the tent’s structure, but it probably wouldn’t collapse, appearing to be quite sturdy despite its condition. Pencil would have preferred a tent without holes, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, she supposed. Besides, anything was better than sitting outside and having to deal with Fanny for the rest of the night.

Pencil closed her eyes, shifting around to try and find the most comfortable position to lay in. No matter how she contorted her body, the stony dirt always managed to bite into her somehow. Pencil wondered if it was done intentionally to spite her; if Fanny had littered the ground beneath the sleeping bag with rocks when she had entered the tent earlier in the night. Pencil scoffed at the thought, opening her eyes to stare back up at the tent. Who was she kidding, Fanny wasn’t smart enough to think that far ahead.

As the fire crackled nearby, Pencil wondered when her vision would come back. It’d been nearly a day, and everything was still as blurry as a camera lens covered in hand lotion. Pencil should have asked how long she’d have blurry vision for earlier. Well, it was too late now; she was already in the tent, and Pencil would die before she made herself appear so desperate as to willingly seek out information after leaving.

The wind picked up, making the tent rustle almost mockingly. Pencil huffed, shivering from within the sleeping bag. It would probably be warmer if she was closer to the fire, Pencil’s mind told her. Well, Pencil’s mind could go die in a hole, because she refused to go back out there and admit she was too weak to withstand a slight breeze.

Not that Pencil was weak. No, Pencil was strong. Pencil had gone through hell and back in the E.X.I.T, anything else was child’s play in comparison. Pencil could handle anything this stupid forest threw at her.

…

Right?

-~•~-

Pencil awoke slowly, taking a few minutes to simply lie down and stare at the tent’s roof before finally sitting up and crawling out of the tent. When Pencil exited the tent, Fanny was already awake, searching through her green pouch with mild disinterest. The fire had been reduced to a pile of ash and burnt sticks, sitting painfully small in the meagre campsite.

“Did you see anybody last night?” Pencil asked as she approached Fanny, standing above the woman with her hands on her hips.

“No,” Fanny muttered before handing Pencil something from her pouch, “here, eat this.” It was something small and squishy wrapped in leaved and a piece of grass. Opening the package revealed it to be a collection of fruit slices and berries, leaking juice onto Pencil’s hands. Taking a hesitant bite of the fruit, Pencil felt her mouth explode with sweetness, a tart aftertaste following as she swallowed. Pencil ate slowly, savouring the taste as she watched Fanny quickly disassemble the tent, folding everything up to fit in a small bag, which was attached to her back.

“Come on, we’re leaving now,” Fanny ordered, not even bothering to turn back to make sure Pencil was actually following. Pencil sighed, walking a few steps behind Fanny as she had done the day before. It was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Pencil snarked as they passed what felt like the millionth patch of green and purple flowers. Walking took both forever and no time at all, though that fact didn’t make it any less boring.

“Do you?” Fanny sassed in return, hopping onto a log and making her way across a river. Pencil rolled her eyes in response, following behind the woman and nearly slipping on the log’s wet surface. Aside from the occasional river or large mossy stone, everything in this damned forest looked the same (a fact that probably wasn’t helped by Pencil’s blurry vision).

The silence between the two women stretched on nearly endlessly, only broken by the odd complaint or beginning of an argument, quickly snuffed out by Pencil’s hatred of Fanny’s voice when she yelled. Pencil remembered hearing that Fanny had had her mouth removed by Pin at one point. Oh, how Pencil wished she knew how to do that herself. It’d make things a lot easier to deal with.

“Pencil, I know that I’m not facing you, but I can feel your eyes on the back of my head. What do you want?” Fanny remarked, steering clear of a large, bowl-like plant with red leaves and a stench like fresh oranges. Pencil scoffed, crossing her arms indignantly.

“Why would I want to talk to you?” Pencil muttered, “besides, I’m not even looking at you!” Fanny turned around to stare at Pencil with a deadpan expression, though it quickly turned to horror.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Pencil questioned, her stance loosening at Fanny’s quick change in mood.

“Pencil, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Fanny whispered, looking like she’d seen a ghost, “don’t speak, don’t make any noise, and for the love of air, don’t move.” The fan chose her words carefully, slowly approaching Pencil with shaking legs.

“What? I- what are you talking about? What’s going on?” Pencil asked, shifting in place.

“Don’t move!” Fanny hissed through gritted teeth, grabbing something small and metal from her pouch. Pencil recognized the glint of the knife easily, taking a step backwards. Was Fanny going to kill her? Had she finally had enough of Pencil?

“Pencil, stop moving!” Fanny grit, brandishing the knife menacingly as she approached.

“Not until you-“ Pencil’s remark quickly turned into a scream as something sticky wrapped around her waist and pulled her up into the treetops. A hasty curse was heard distantly as Pencil travelled through the leaves. Pencil shivered in fear as she felt vines slither around her body, entangling her in a cocoon of sticky, slimy foliage.

A vine wrapped around Pencil’s mouth, some of the slime getting inside before she could properly close it. It tasted surprisingly… sweet? The slime tasted like the purest strawberry Pencil had ever had, with a slight sour sting at the back of her throat. Pencil wasn’t sure if it was poisonous or not, but she supposed it didn’t matter, since she’d already ingested it either way.

The vines tightened around Pencil’s body, cradling her as they slowly squeezed her until she thought she’d snap in half. Pencil felt her fingers go numb as her circulation was slowly cut off, the vines clutching her arms and legs desperately.

Something rustled in the leaves behind Pencil; something loud and large. Pencil prayed to whatever higher being had yet to forsake her that there weren’t jaguars living in the forest. A frail, trapped creature like her was a perfect snack for any predator brave enough to climb the massive trees that made up the forest. The creature shifted closer, and Pencil could feel its hot breath on her back as the thing panted.

Just then, some of the vines on Pencil’s backside loosened, as if drawn limp by the creature’s presence. Then, the ones on her left arm fell down to the forest floor below, freeing the limb. Pencil used this newfound freedom to pull down the vine around her mouth, taking a hasty gasp of air. Something nicked Pencil’s right arm as even more of the thick tendrils fell down. Soon enough, all the vines had come off, leaving Pencil standing on a bed of leaves and cut vines, suspended high above the forest floor.

“You’re an idiot, I hope you know that,” a gruff voice accused from behind Pencil. Whipping around, Pencil saw Fanny, holding a knife that was now tainted with slime and a viscous green liquid. Pencil rolled her eyes as she shook off some of the slime, wiping her hand on a nearby leaf to try and rid herself of the substance.

“And you’re first-hand proof that you don’t need a heart to live,” Pencil retorted as Fanny slowly started to climb down the tree’s massive trunk. Fanny, holding her knife in her mouth, was unable to shoot back with either a yell or insult, and thus simply glared up at Pencil. Pencil deemed herself the victor of their minute spat.

The descent down the tree was slow, silent, and uncomfortably hard. Pencil nearly lost her grip on the tree’s trunk and fell down multiple times. Since she had started climbing after Fanny, Pencil falling would likely mean the other woman would fall as well, a fact that Pencil wasn’t sure how to feel about. The sticky goop from the vines clung to Pencil’s figure, making small leaves and twigs stick to her form. The slime dried quickly, feeling like acrylic paint on Pencil’s arms and legs, cracking slightly with every move.

Once the two had reached the bottom of the tree, Fanny walked back over to the river that they had previously crossed, beginning to clean her knife. Pencil stood behind her silently, staring at the rushing water that occasionally carried away a frantic fish.

“I’d recommend you get rid of that dew, unless you want to attract every bug in the forest,” Fanny remarked, scrubbing at her knife’s blade.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Pencil muttered back, though she dipped herself into the cold water anyways. The woman could practically feel Fanny’s cocky smirk as she cleaned her body.

“You were a real dumbass back there, getting yourself caught in a sundew vine,” Fanny commented, picking at a dried spot of dew on her blade.

“You told me not to move and took out a knife, what would you do if that happened?” Pencil protested, washing her arm.

“Pencil, if I wanted to kill you,” Fanny looked up from her knife, her gaze locking with Pencil’s, “I’d have already done so.” Pencil shivered at the woman’s words, putting on a scowl despite it. Fanny returned to her scrubbing with a huff, her eyes turning cold. Pencil looked away, rinsing the slime from her back. Was she… afraid? No, she couldn’t be. Afraid? Not Pencil. Especially not of Fanny. Never.

—~•~—

“You should eat something,” Fanny suggested at their temporary camp that night, tossing Pencil another pocket of berries and fruit, “all you had was that fruit this morning, since you refused to eat that cabbage I found earlier.”

“That cabbage clearly had something wrong with it!” Pencil argued, opening the pocket and taking a nibble of one of the berries inside.

“Yeah, sure. Tell me, out of the two of us, who’s been living in and researching this forest and its plants the longest?” Fanny inquired sarcastically, prodding the fire. Pencil shovelled more fruit into her mouth to avoid having to respond. Fanny rolled her eyes, opening her pouch and taking a glance inside before closing it once more.

“I’m running low on berries, we’re going to need to gather some tomorrow. I’ll teach you how to recognize the edible ones in the morning,” Fanny added, tossing a leaf into the flames and watching it burn up.

“Aren’t we supposed to be finding my team?” Pencil asked, leaning her cheek on her open palm.

“Yes, we are, but in order to do that, we need to not starve to death,” Fanny rebutted, fiddling with the green wrapping on her torso. Pencil mumbled half-baked insults at her words, too low for the other woman to make out properly. Fanny looked up at the starry sky above, making Pencil wish that she could still properly make out the constellations in the night.

“It’s getting late, you should go rest for the night,” Fanny glanced at the shoddy tent with weary eyes, “once you finish that, of course.” Pencil nodded, too tired to dispute her words. The fruit was sickly sweet on her tongue, practically melting in her mouth after spending so long marinading in its own juices from within the leafy pouch.

Tossing the empty pouch into the flames, Pencil retreated to the tent, zipping it up once inside. Other than nearly dying to a plant, the day had gone… surprisingly well. Yes, Fanny was still annoying, and yes, Pencil was quickly getting sick of the near constant walking, but compared to what her life had been on the competition? It was almost… peaceful.

Pencil shrugged the thought away as she wormed into the sleeping bag. She’d give the idea more attention when she wasn’t tired. For now, she needed to sleep. Pencil had a feeling that she had a long day ahead of her.

Chapter Text

Upon exiting the tent, Pencil was greeted with something green being tossed at her feet. Picking it up, Pencil realized that it was a pouch, not dissimilar to Fanny’s. It was expertly woven with grass and leaves, with a thick vine as the strap and a carved wooden clasp. Upon slinging it over her shoulder, Pencil found that the pouch rested naturally at her hip, easily accessible and loose on her body, but unlikely to slip off.

“I made it last night; figured you would like something to store anything you want to keep with you,” Fanny informed, making a weird motion that probably would have been a shrug if she had shoulders. Pencil nodded, glancing quickly over at the extinguished fire, smoking slightly, visible even in Pencil’s damaged eyes. Fanny once more disassembled the tent alone, Pencil watching her do so with mild boredom. Once everything had been packed, they were off again, hopefully to find some fruit or berries to pack.

The walk was silent as the day before, but a bit less awkward. Pencil had felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest; like she’d been breathing stale air before and could now get proper oxygen into her system.

“There’s some,” Fanny observed, pushing some shrubbery aside as she veered off towards a bush. Pencil followed, looking down at the red berries.

“These are great berries for foraging, because they don’t have a poisonous lookalike,” Fanny informed as she pulled a large leaf from her pouch, folding it and filling it with berries, “I hate mimics,” she added. Pencil rolled her eyes, plucking a berry from the bush and popping one into her mouth. It was tangy, slightly sweet, and crunched between her teeth. There was a large seed in the middle, which Pencil spat out onto the ground. Once Fanny had filled the leaf pocket with berries, she plucked a blade of long grass from the ground, bending it around the pocket and tying it to secure the leaf’s folds.

“Here, you take this one,” Fanny offered, handing the leaf pocket over to Pencil. To woman grabbed it hesitantly, placing it into her newly gained pouch. Fanny walked off, Pencil following after a few moments. It felt nice having something to carry in her pouch, rather than have it sit empty and unused.

The two went about their day, finding different bushes of berries and fruit trees; some poisonous, some not.

•

“There two berries are nearly indistinguishable, but the leaves on the bushes they come from are completely different.”

“I’m practically blind, what makes you think I can tell the difference between those two leaves? They’re both just green blobs to me.”

•

“This fruit is completely edible, but I’m not picking it because I hate the taste.”

“You hate everything.”

“Yeah, I do. Including you.”

•

“The potato is completely fine!”

“Oh, no it’s not! I’ve never seen a potato like that in my life!”

“How do you know!? You can’t even see it!”

•

By the time the two had set up their camp for the night, their pouches were filled with enough fruits and berries to last a week. Pencil warmed her hands at the bonfire as Fanny cut up the fruit, removing the cores and seeds with precision. Despite her poor eyesight, Pencil had sort of learned a bit about the differences between the edible and poisonous foods in the forest.

The night was calm, the only sounds being the crackling of the flames and the knife going through crunchy, ripe fruit. Gentle stars twinkled brightly above, the moon nearly but not quite full as it hung in the sky. Pencil’s hands were stained with juices of various colours, long since dried past the point of being sticky.

“Y’know, I’ve been wondering…” Pencil trailed, garnering Fanny’s attention. The blue woman looked up from her cutting, one eye brow raised and lips parted slightly.

“Like- how long is this whole ‘plant blindness’ thing going to last? Because it’s been a few days, and it feels like my vision’s still as blurry as when it first happened,” she questioned, pulling her extended leg closer when the flames ventured too close.

“Oh, it’s permanent,” Fanny mentioned casually, looking back down at the knife she was holding.

“What,” Pencil gasped, her gaze locking onto Fanny’s shifting form. It was always hard to tell when or even if Fanny was joking- this was one of those times, right? Or- or maybe Pencil had misheard her, right?

“Yeah, it’s acid. It doesn’t wear off, your eyes are screwed for life. I mean, maybe recovery could fix it, but recovery’s broken, so that doesn’t really matter. But uh- yeah, Tennisball got sprayed in the face, and he never got his eyesight back. We had to find him a pair of glasses in order for him to able to see properly again,” Fanny explained, unaware of just how much impact her words had on Pencil.

Oh, wood, she was permanently blind. Pencil was going to have to go through her life unable to properly see anything. She’d never see her friends’ faces clearly again. She wouldn’t be able to go anywhere on her own. She wouldn’t be able to read, or write, or- dear lead, Pencil would eventually forget what everything looked like when it wasn’t blurry.

“I’m going in for the night,” Pencil mumbled, robotically standing and making her way over to the tent. Fanny’s called ‘alright’ sounded distant and nearly inaudible. Pencil crawled into the tent, zipping the entrance closed and curling up on top of the sleeping bag.

Pencil was never going to get her eyesight back.

Never.

Never.

Ever.

—~•~—

“Hey, are you alive in there?” A slightly muffled voice called from outside then tent. Pencil didn’t respond, simply laying on her back and looking up at the roof, as she had been for the past few hours.

“It’s like- nearly noon by now. Did you stay up really late in there or something?” The gruff voice tried again, a small silhouette appearing on the tent’s entrance. Pencil still didn’t move, her mind floating away like a cloud in a windstorm. She wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep the night before, or even if she had fallen asleep.

No- she had fallen asleep. Pencil could remember clearly the dreams that had plagued her relentlessly. It almost hurt to recall them. Blurry, unrecognizable faces called her name endlessly, each with the same voice. Some were nice; others kicking Pencil to the ground if she came too close. With how muddled her vision was, it was nearly impossible to tell which was which.

“If you don’t answer me, I’m going to assume you’re dead and come in there to get rid of your body.” Pencil could still feel the feet kicking at her ribs. She’d never felt… pain… in her dreams before. It was weird, like eating an apple and tasting peach.

“… make way, I’m coming in there.” The tent’s entrance was unzipped, Fanny’s familiar blue making itself known as she stepped inside, closing the entrance behind her. Fanny glanced down at Pencil’s splayed out form, her expression hard to make out.

“Ah, so you are awake,” Fanny observed. Pencil didn’t have the energy nor the willpower to dignify her with a response. Fanny, noticing this, went still. After a few moments, the fan sat down next to Pencil’s head, groaning as she did so.

“I hate conversations with people I don’t know very well,” Fanny hissed under her breath, “what’s going on?” She added, louder and clearly a question for Pencil. The woman, in lieu of a response, simply grunted, her hands grasping the sleeping bag she was laid upon.

“Be like that all you want, but I’m telling you right now, you’re going to feel worse about it if you don’t talk to someone, and I’m the only other person here, so…” Fanny trailed, looking down at Pencil expectantly. Pencil remained silent, causing Fanny to sigh. They simply sat there for a while; how long, Pencil wasn’t sure, not that she particularly cared anyways.

“I’m never going to see my friends again,” Pencil mumbled, her words having a lot more of the ‘m’ sound than they usually did. Fanny looked back down at her, surprised at the words.

“Eh- uhh… don’t- don’t say that. I mean- they’re all reasonable, yeah? Chances are, they’re in this forest somewhere,” Fanny reassured, stumbling over her words awkwardly. It was clear that she had no idea what she was doing.

“No- I… I’m never going to see my friends again. I’m essentially blind for the rest of my life, however long that is,” Pencil clarified, bringing an arm up to rest over her face, covering her eyes. Fanny didn’t respond, though Pencil could hear shift around a few times, her mouth presenting the beginnings of a sentence and yet never following through on it.

“Your…” Fanny started after a few moments longer, “your eyes are damaged, yes, but… that doesn’t mean you have to… have to go through life without seeing. There’s… there’s ways to make it so that you can see… again,” Fanny shuttered at every turn, unsure in a way that Pencil had never seen from the angry woman before, “I know it seems like you’ll never get it back, but that doesn’t make it true. Your… eyesight. It may not come back on its own… ever… but there are still ways for you to see again, even… even if your eyes are damaged.” Fanny’s words made Pencil smile, if only slightly.

“You think so?” She asked hopefully, taking her arm off her eyes and looking over at Fanny.

“Do I look like a liar to you?” Fanny inquired, turning to look at Pencil aswell. Pencil gave a small chuckle, sitting up and crossing her legs.

“Listen. If you want, we don’t have to go anywhere today. I understand if you need some time to think. Just let me know what you want, okay?” Fanny offered, looking genuine in every regard.

“I- thank you,” Pencil responded, slightly surprised, “I… I think… yeah, can we do that? Just- just stay here for today?” Fanny nodded, standing up and popping her back before exiting the tent, leaving Pencil alone to think on their conversation.

It was… nice? Was that the word? Yeah- yeah… it was nice talking to somebody, even if it was Fanny.

Chapter Text

“Do you think we’ll find them tomorrow?” Pencil asked, using Fanny’s knife to carve a small chunk of wood by the fire. It’d been nearly a week since the two had begrudgingly joined together, and there was still no sign of Pencil’s team.

“It’s about as likely as any other day, Pencil,” Fanny responded, messing with the green wrapping on her torso. Pencil nodded solemnly, staring down at her carving. It wasn’t much, not that it was supposed to be, it was just something to busy herself with as the fire crackled brightly and night set in.

Pencil hadn’t expected to become… well, she wouldn’t say that she and Fanny were friends, but Pencil certainly hated the woman less than she had a week ago. It might not have seemed like much to an outside eye, but to Pencil, it was progress. Slow? Yes. Maybe behind where they should have been by now? Definitely. But that didn’t matter; as long as there was actual, definitive progress happening, Pencil was happy.

“Do you think we’ll find your team?” Pencil questioned. Fanny looked up, surprised. Neither of the two had so much as mentioned Fanny’s team since that first night by the fire. Pencil hadn’t had a reason to bring them up, and Fanny didn’t seem all too keen on mentioning them herself.

“I… probably not. It’d be a miracle if we did,” Fanny answered slowly, looking into the heart of the fire. Pencil nodded, knowing not to push the topic. She was tempted, oh she was tempted, but Pencil knew well where pushing would get her: nowhere. So, she remained silent, peering into the flames.

“Here,” Fanny tossed a small leaf pocket of fruit towards Pencil, who caught it with practiced precision, “I have a feeling we’re going to have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” Pencil glanced down at the pocket for a few seconds, then back up at Fanny.

“Then you should eat, too,” Pencil added, fiddling with the leafy pack in her hands.

“What?” Fanny asked, clearly confused at Pencil’s intentions.

“I like, never see you eat, like ever,” Pencil mentioned casually, popping a berry into her mouth, “it’s almost like you’re afraid to eat in front of me or something.”

“Wh- I’m not afraid to eat in front of you! That would be stupid,” Fanny remarked, shifting in place.

“Well, we’re pretty much always together, so it’s just weird that I never see you eating. Like- unless you just don’t eat, then it’s strange that I haven’t seen you eat in front of me,” Pencil clarified, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back slightly. Fanny’s expression shifted, just barely noticeable to Pencil’s damaged eyes. The fan remained silent, her eyes flickering about.

“You- you do eat, right?” Pencil asked, a twinge of anxiety seeping into her somehow still light voice.

“Uhm- it’s… well, uh- you know…” Fanny stuttered, her words stumbling around like a drunk pigeon. Her nervous, meek demeanour was unusual, and frankly, offputting. Pencil straightened her back, losing her loose posture and leaning forward slightly.

“Fanny, answer the question,” Pencil demanded, her voice growing serious.

“I’m- uhh…. I- I think the fire needs more wood. Uhm- I’ll… I’ll go get more sticks,” Fanny deflected, standing up and attempting to bolt deeper into the forest. Pencil, however, was faster, and so she ran over and wrapped an arm around Fanny’s waist, both keeping the woman close and stopping her from running off.

“Fanny, answer the question. Have you eaten since you found me at the flower patch: yes or no?” Fanny struggled in Pencil’s grip for a few moments before sighing and going limp, her gaze downcast. Pencil had found out a lot about Fanny in the past week, one of those things being that she didn’t lie. Pencil wasn’t sure if Fanny just hated lying that much, or she just physically could not lie, but either way, Fanny had never once lied to Pencil in the week they’d travelled together. Her often brutal honesty hurt, yes, but it came in handy in moments like this.

“No,” Fanny mumbled, sounding almost defeated, “but,” she added quickly, “it’s not as big of a deal as you probably think it is.” Pencil scoffed at her defensive words, keeping Fanny in place when she tried to release herself from Pencil’s grip once more.

“Like lead it ain’t; I suppose next you’ll tell me that drowning yourself in a river isn’t a big deal either,” Pencil argued. Fanny flinched slightly at her words, looking almost scared for a moment before steeling her expression.

“That’s not the same thing,” Fanny rebutted, her gaze hard.

“Oh, really? Because you’re still killing yourself either way, aren’t you? Honestly, what would your team think?” Pencil hated bringing Fanny’s team into the mess, but Fanny was stubborn; Pencil needed to be firm if she wanted to convince Fanny that what she was doing was wrong.

“I survived in the LOL for years on stale bread and hatred, I can do it again,” Fanny argued, her legs swinging below her frantically as Pencil lifted her up, mentally cursing at her feather-light weight.

“Yeah, well, right now, all you have is hatred, and sorry to break it to you, but that’s not enough to keep you from starving to death,” Pencil shot back, digging through her pouch and pulling out a tightly wrapped leaf pocket.

“That’s a pretty bold assumption,” Fanny snarked. Just then, as if to prove her wrong, the woman’s stomach growled lowly. Fanny flushed at this, grumbling something too quiet for Pencil to properly make out. Pencil simply raised an eyebrow at the fan, sitting down and keeping Fanny in place on her lap.

“Here,” Pencil handed the leaf pocket to Fanny, “we’ll eat together, alright?” Pencil pulled out the berry pouch that Fanny had given her earlier. Fanny didn’t verbally respond, staring down at the leaf pocket for a few moments before sighing and beginning to unwrap it. Pencil kept a close eye on the fan as they both ate, watching her expression switch between silent fuming and solemn resignation.

“You’re a hypocrite, I hope you know that,” Pencil accused, continuing to keep Fanny in place as the smaller woman began to squirm in her grip.

“Well, that makes two of us,” Fanny huffed, inciting a nearly humourless laugh from Pencil. The bonfire burned brightly in front of them, illuminating them in more ways than one.

The two stayed in that position for a long time, even when Fanny finally finished her berries and it really wasn’t necessary anymore. Neither of the two moved a muscle, both afraid that any twitch or jolt would break the peaceful spell that had fallen over the camp. Eventually though, after what felt like hours of sitting together and watching the fire crackle, a small sound eventually made its way into Pencil’s ears.

It almost sounded like… whistling? No, that wasn’t it. The sound was some mix between high pitched squeaking and whistling by somebody who definitely didn’t know how to whistle. Upon looking down, Pencil discovered that the sound was coming from the woman in her arms. Fanny, at some point, had fallen asleep, and was now… snoring? Could this even be classified as snoring? Pencil wasn’t entirely sure. Either way, she had a problem.

Pencil, as much as she didn’t want to wake Fanny -the woman looked like she needed the rest- was too uncomfortable in her position to even think about being able to fall asleep. So, hesitantly, Pencil slowly lowered herself into a lying position, keeping Fanny securely at her chest. The small fan occasionally twitched in her sleep, causing Pencil to freeze for a few moments before relaxing when nothing else happened. Eventually, they ended up with Pencil lying on her side, facing the dying fire as she clutched Fanny to her chest like a stuffed toy.

This was so embarrassing. Pencil really hoped that she was the first to wake in the morning, if only so she could quickly retreat before Fanny woke up to pretend that none of this had happened. Pencil wondered how the woman would react if she knew that Pencil was spending her time holding her like a lap dog. Of course, knowing the consequences didn’t stop Pencil from continuing her actions. The wooden woman’s face felt hot, and not just because of the fire in front of her.

Chapter Text

“Do you… do you see that?” Fanny mumbled as they walked. Surprisingly, Pencil had been the first to wake that morning, and thus had been saved from an awkward conversation. It was still a bit weird, walking with Fanny knowing the somewhat intimate moment they had shared, but Fanny hadn’t mentioned it, and Pencil sure as lead wasn’t going to talk about it if she didn’t have to.

“Probably not,” Pencil deadpanned, wondering if Fanny often forgot about her poor eyesight.

“Pencil, it looks… it looks like buildings,” Fanny whispered, slightly in awe. Pencil squinted, and just barely noticed the colourful shapes in the distance. Had… had they reached the end of the forest? Had they finally gotten out? Fanny ran ahead, leaving Pencil to struggle with both following at pace and not tripping over anything.

The two flew out of the jungle’s edge like fish breaching the water’s surface. Pencil was nearly blinded by all the colour after spending so long surrounded by blurry green shapes. The women simply stood there in awe for a few moments, taking in the sights and revelling in their achievement. Looking down, Pencil realized that the grass under her feet was purple. Were they…

“We’re in Yoyle city!” Fanny shouted, half amazed and half confused. Her voice echoed throughout the empty buildings, bouncing off concrete walls and flowing through alleyways. Pencil chuckled, taking in the sights of the city.

“Well, if we’re in Yoyle land, that certainly explains why the forest isn’t growing here,” she commented, seeing Fanny walk forward once more and following behind. Even with super enhanced, fast-growing plants, not much could last in Yoyle land. Pencil never thought she’d be relieved to be back in the barren fields of garish purple grass.

Fanny seemed to have a set direction for once, as she moved with intent and crossed alleyways like she knew the place well. Pencil didn’t mention it, simply walking in silence as she continued to process what they’d accomplished.

“If I remember correctly…” Fanny trailed, looking at all the buildings, “there!” She shouted, running into one of the shops. Pencil, confused, followed slowly, stepping into the store and hearing the rusty bell jingle with her entrance.

“It’s a… glasses store?” Pencil observed, glancing around at everything.

“Yeah!” Fanny chirped, probably the most optimistic that Pencil had ever seen her.

“Whyyyyy?” Pencil questioned, dragging out the word as she looked over at Fanny.

“Pencil, you know what this means, right?” Fanny inquired, grabbing a pair of glasses from a bent rack. Pencil shook her head, walking closer to the woman.

“It means we can get your eyesight back!” Fanny cheered, placing the glassed onto Pencil’s face. They didn’t do much, if anything just making her eyesight worse while also tinting everything slightly yellow. The two stood in silence for a few moments.

“Y’know, I kinda thought that would work,” Fanny commented as Pencil took off the glasses, “eh, we’ll find a pair that works eventually. It might take a while though, I hate not knowing how glasses work!”

The two women carefully looked through the selection of glasses; some made things slightly less blurry, some made things worse, and some just didn’t do anything at all. It felt like hours, just searching through the lenses and trying to find a pair that fully worked. Eventually though, Pencil spotted a pair of glasses with clunky, ugly square frames. With all other options exhausted, Pencil hesitantly tried on the glasses.

The world burst into view, corners sharpening and labels becoming defined. Pencil looked around in awe at the world. She could see the individual leaves on the bushes outside, could read the price tags on the glasses in front of her. Pencil could see. Pencil turned around to look at Fanny, pure joy on her features.

“I think the-“ Pencil cut herself off with a sharp inhale as she caught sight of Fanny. The small woman was covered in burns and scars, the damaged tissue littering her body in tiny increments. The most notable scars being what looked like a large slash on her torso, largely hidden by her green wrapping, but it peeked out of both sides, leaving Pencil to infer how big it truly was. There was also a large, jagged cut that stretched across her face, starting at her chin and ending above her left eye, pulling her lips up into a half-snarl that Pencil had previously thought was just her neutral expression. Fanny’s left eye was half-lidded and glossy, probably unseeing if Pencil had to guess.

Pencil… she hadn’t realized that her friend was so… damaged. Her blurry vision had meshed Fanny’s damaged and undamaged parts together in a blur of blue and grey. To Pencil, it had all just looked like one solid colour; she never… but she should have noticed sooner, shouldn’t she?

“Pencil? Do the glasses work?” Fanny asked, raising an eyebrow at Pencil’s silence.

“I- yeah,” Pencil replied, snapping out of her previous daze, “I just never realized how…” she trailed off, taking a few steps closer to the woman in front of her.

“Never realized what? Come on, I hate not being told things!” Fanny shouted impatiently after a few more moments of silence. Pencil slowly brought her hand up to the woman’s cheek, running her thumb along the length of the massive scar. Fanny, after flinching back at first, minutely leaned into the soft touch, her face spackled with bafflement.

“I never realized how… hurt… you got,” Pencil finished, her gaze locking onto Fanny’s. The small woman slumped slightly, looking away shamefully.

“Oh… yeah… that,” Fanny sighed, “it’s… yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have seen all… this. With how blurry your vision was, huh?” Fanny was awkward, pulling away slightly and looking herself over, as if she’d never realized the true extent of her scarred wounds before. With a huff, Fanny headed for the store’s entrance, Pencil following quickly behind.

“Wh- hey! What’s the big deal!? We’re supposed to stick together, idiot!” Pencil shouted, her long legs allowing her to easily catch up to Fanny. The short woman didn’t respond, steeling her expression as she trudged forward.

“What, was it something I said? Listen, it’s not that bad, you’re still mostly intact,” Pencil assured, placing a hand onto Fanny’s back. The woman flinched away and fixed her with an angry glare.

“Not that bad!? Pencil, look at me!” Fanny ripped off the wrapping on her torso, dried blood peeling away and sticking to the leafy fibres. The removal of the wrapping -bandages, Pencil realized. It wasn’t for fashion, they were leafy bandages- revealing both the large gashes on her chest, but also a sickly looking acid burn that had previously gone unnoticed, completely hidden by the green material. The wounds looked… well, not fresh, but not fully healed either. Dried, maroon blood was caked around the jagged slashes, and the burns looked tender.

“I’m hideous!” Fanny cried, her expression sour. “I know that you’re thinking it, too. I saw how you looked at me when you put on those glasses! Go ahead! Say it! Tell me I look horrible!” Fanny was frantic as she spoke, her stance wide as she glared. Pencil looked over her body; over the scars and dents and slashes and burns that covered Fanny head to toe. Some, like the scratches on her chest, looked recent and had barely scarred over. Others were older, nearly fully healed -well, as healed as they were going to get- as they painted Fanny’s blue body in shades of deep cyan.

Pencil slowly approached, dropping her pouch to the ground and carefully wrapping her hands around the blue fan. Crouching slightly, Pencil pressed their foreheads together, feeling something hot and wet drip down her face. She wasn’t sure who was crying, or if they were both crying. Pencil was pretty sure it didn’t matter whose tears she felt, because when one cried, the other was soon to follow.

“You look beautiful,” Pencil answered truthfully, holding the smaller woman close. It seemed that her words had activated some sort of switch in Fanny’s mind, because after that, the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. They slowly lowered down until they were both sitting, Pencil hugging Fanny tightly to her chest as a shaky leg held her back.

Pencil wasn’t sure how long they had just sat there, one crying and the other murmuring soft encouragements. She didn’t particularly care either; she’d do it for a thousand years longer if it meant helping the woman who, despite it all, had saved Pencil’s life more times than she could count. Eventually though, Fanny pulled away slightly, her face wet and eyes puffy from crying. The two smiled at eachother as they both stood, gathering themselves and their things as they walked further into the heart of the city, ready to turn in for the night.

Chapter Text

Yoyle city was calm; quiet. The two women had decided to stay in the city, knowing that it was much more likely that Pencil’s team would find Yoyle land than Pencil would find her team in the forest. Despite no longer needing to stick together, Pencil and Fanny did so anyways. Pencil found that she genuinely enjoyed Fanny’s company, realizing how complicated the woman was when one looked past her angry demeanour. Fanny, in turn, had grown to appreciate Pencil’s dry humour and genuine smile.

The two were currently sitting at a lake, looking over the water and enjoying eachother’s company. The occasional fish surfaced the water, flopping around pathetically through the air until it fell back under. Conversations popped up like the fish; interesting, but infrequent. Pencil, in all honesty, didn’t mind the stretches of silence, finding it less awkward than she’d expected.

“When do you think you’ll find your team again?” Pencil asked, skipping a stone across the water. It made seven bounces before sinking beneath the surface.

“Never,” Fanny answered, leaning on Pencil’s side.

“Well, never say never,” Pencil chuckled, grabbing another rock, inspecting it to gauge how far it would go.

“No- I’m serious,” Fanny responded, looking Pencil in the eyes, “it doesn’t matter if we look under every rock in that forest; I’m not getting my team back.” The woman’s tone left no room for humour, leaving Pencil to wonder what exactly she meant.

“Well, they have to be in there somewhere, right?” Pencil inquired, skipping the stone across the lake. It only made two bounces before sinking under.

“Well, technically, yes, their physical bodies are in the forest,” Fanny answered vaguely, returning her attention back to the lake. Pencil’s fingers slipped as she grasped another stone. What?

“I- bodies? What do you mean?” Pencil turned to fully face Fanny, now slightly concerned.

“Pencil, my team is dead,” Fanny explained, sounding slightly detached from the situation. When greeted with Pencil’s horrified expression, Fanny stumbled to clarify further. “Yeah- nobody’s seen Blackhole since the challenge ended months ago, and Tree and Marker were killed in an accident about a week before I found you. Honestly, I was lucky to have made it out alive myself. Well… mostly,” Fanny glanced down at the gash on her side. Pencil didn’t know how to respond, was there even a proper response to that at all!?

“Y’know, if it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be dead right alongside them,” Fanny chuckled. Pencil swallowed dryly.

“What… Fanny what do you mean by that?” Pencil questioned as a particularly morbid thought entered her head. Wood, she hoped she was wrong.

“Pencil, when I found you, I was walking towards a river nearly a day away from my camp without anything on me, what do you think I was planning on doing?” Fanny asked, somehow finding humour in the situation. ‘I suppose next you’ll tell me that drowning yourself in a river isn’t a big deal either’ Pencil remembered how Fanny reacted to those words when she said them. How… scared she looked.

“Oh… I’m… I’m sorry,” Pencil murmured, in a state of slight shock. Fanny shook her head, leaning more of her weight into the tall woman.

“Eh, it wasn’t your fault. Besides, you’re the one who pulled me out and made me realize how much of an idiot I was being,” Fanny dismissed, watching the sky slowly turn orange as the sun set. Pencil slung an arm around her back, shivering as a slight breeze passed through. Silence hung over the women like a deadly promise, though Pencil couldn’t muster a single word despite it.

Pencil… she didn’t know how to feel about Fanny’s words. She talked about her team’s likely permanent death as if she were commenting on the weather. She had grown used to their absence and seemed to have moved on quickly. Too quickly to be normal. People were supposed so mourn a tragedy like that, not just… act like it was a hundred years ago. Pencil wasn’t sure what had forced Fanny to have to move on from the deaths so quickly. Maybe it was the dangers of the forest forcing her to toughen up. Maybe it was finding Pencil and having to make sure she didn’t die. Either way, something had caused Fanny to have no time to grieve her fallen friends.

Pencil… didn’t want that. Fanny deserved to mourn and be sad and… just feel things about what had happened. It was far too late for that now though. Pencil, despite managing to travel through time on multiple occasions, couldn’t change the past. But she could change the future. In that moment, as the sun slowly set over the horizon, Pencil swore that she’d make sure Fanny didn’t have to deal with such tragedies again. And if she did, then she’d be given the proper time and space to mourn and be sad about it.

Pencil nearly laughed. Less than a month ago, she wouldn’t have cared less about what happened to Fanny. Distantly, she wondered how so much had changed in so little time. Fanny nuzzled closer beside her, pressing her face into Pencil’s side. Pencil felt her face heat up as she witnessed the action, staring down at the cute woman at her side.

Wait…

Cute?

.

..

…

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

Chapter Text

Chapter eight: nothing can get between us

Pencil’s brain had been a blur of thoughts for the past few weeks. She could vaguely remember when people started to return to the city, and sort of knew the point in time when she finally reunited with her team. Her mind, however, had been elsewhere. Throughout it all, one small blue woman stayed loyally by her side; Fanny.

Even when everybody else had moved into the city, and Fanny had other people to stay with, she still chose to be with Pencil. Why? She didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure if even Fanny herself knew. Maybe it was habit; maybe she felt sorry for Pencil, maybe she just genuinely liked Pencil enough to stick by her side. No matter the reason, Fanny had stayed. Pencil had a feeling that that wouldn’t last much longer, however.

Golfball, with the help of Book and TV, -of all the people- had eventually created a recovery centre. It took a lot of hard work and dedication (along with many sleepless nights) but they’d done it. Pencil was there when Golfball shakily tested it, the machine whirring loudly as it spat out a dazed Tennisball. The recovery centre had worked. Pencil was terrified.

She wasn’t sure how it had gotten out, but just a few days after everyone had gotten settled into the city, pretty much everybody knew of the tragedy that had befallen Fanny’s team. Thus, it was unanimously decided that Fanny would not be told about the recovery centre until it was guaranteed to work. The poor woman would be crushed if she was given hope of getting her teammates back, only for the machine to not work. So, Fanny was completely in the dark about the recovery centre’s construction. But now, it was complete, and working perfectly fine.

So, Pencil had lead Fanny over to the machine, telling her that there was a surprise waiting. Pencil had played the scene over and over in her head, hoping to become desensitized to it as to not have a dramatic reaction. She practically had it memorized; Fanny would see the machine, use it to bring back her friends, and leave Pencil behind as she moved on and things went back to how they were before. Perhaps Fanny would forget that the two had even been close at all.

“Okay, open your eyes,” Pencil ordered, holding back tears as Fanny gasped at the recovery centre. The blue woman took her time looking at it, caressing the smooth metal and inspecting the buttons. After she had throughly looked over the machine, she shakily inputted a name into the letterbox. The machine whirred and beeped as a trunk slowly exited its chute. Then, as if he’d always been there, a dazed Tree sat on the ground next to the machine.

“Tree!” Fanny cried, rushing over and nearly tackling the man. Tree’s arms nearly automatically embraced her, the two slotting together like a puzzle.

“Fanny?” Tree gasped as he fully registered the situation, looking down at the woman as if he didn’t fully believe she was real.

“It worked! You’re alive!” Tears burst from Fanny’s eyes, her smile nearly contagious. Pencil couldn’t help but give a small smirk of her own, seeing the woman so happy. The two teammates hugged, Fanny’s head beneath Tree’s chin as they held eachother tight as a barnacle on a rock. Pencil stood off to the side awkwardly as the two cried and laughed and loved eachother. Pencil wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t.

“Oh, Fanny, what happened to you?” Tree whispered intimately as he looked over Fanny’s scarred body, “what did I miss?”

“Nothing that still matters,” Fanny dismissed with a teary smile, “air, you’re alive,” she murmured. Tree huffed out a shaky laugh, his back arching over Fanny as he held her to his chest protectively.

“I feel like I should be saying that to you! How did you even survive that?” Tree laughed airily.

“Are you kidding? It takes a lot more than that to kill me!” Fanny asserted, puffing out her chest proudly. Tree wiped a tear from his eye at her antics.

“I guess you’re right,” he agreed, his accent strengthening with his emotions.

“Well, I suppose I did have some help,” Fanny admitted, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Isn’t that right-“ Fanny cut herself off as she looked over at the empty space where her friend was.

“…Pencil?” But the woman was long gone.

—~-•-~—

Pencil laid atop the bed’s covers, staring at the ceiling blankly. The bed felt colder than an arctic pool in the winter when she was in it alone. As much as she’d steeled her nerves and tried to prepare herself, she still ended up in a slump. Pencil would never admit it to anyone who asked, but… she missed Fanny. It hadn’t even been a day, and yet the spiteful woman’s absence was painfully prominent. The only thing keeping Pencil from going off to find Fanny herself was the knowledge that the first day was always the worst. It would get better eventually, and maybe Pencil would even forget about her and Fanny ever being friends. But for now, she laid on the empty bed in silence.

The women’s shared room had been decorated oddly; their tastes and interests clashing horribly like an all neon colour palette. Still, neither of them had minded, and even indulged in the others’ activities. Pencil found that heavy metal music wasn’t as bad as she originally thought, and Fanny had come to quite enjoy bracelet making.

Pencil glanced down at the beaded bracelet on her wrist. Deep blue and pale orange meshed together and clashed horridly, but somehow still worked. A small, pink duck charm pulled the whole thing together. Pencil had laughed at the charm when she first saw it, questioning why, of all the things, Fanny had chosen a duck. Fanny had snapped back that it was because Pencil always followed her around like a duckling, a fact that Pencil had a hard time disputing. The two had laughed about it later, and Pencil always snickered whenever she looked down at her wrist and spotted the duck. Now, all it brought was painful memories that weren’t really that long ago.

Fanny had her own bracelet around her ankle -it wasn’t really a bracelet then, was it? It was an anklet- made up of pearlescent silver and pink beads. It was much better made than Pencil’s own, with a yellow flower charm that reminded Pencil of how Fanny had looked before being hit with the upgrading beam. Pencil didn’t mind that Fanny wasn’t as good at making bracelets as she was; she was just glad that her friend put in the effort to make something for her.

Pencil heard the faint click of the apartment’s front door, just barely audible over the music she’d been blasting at full volume. Distantly, she wondered who would visit her this late into the night. Golfball? She was the type to pull all-nighters and often required lab rats for her experiments. No, Golfball was too busy doting over a newly recovered Tennisball. Was it Book? No, it couldn’t be, Book hated her with a burning passion.

“Pencil?” A small voice asked as footsteps entered the room. Sitting up quickly, Pencil saw none other than Fanny herself standing at the bedroom door. Why was she here?

“Uh- you good?” Fanny questioned, taking a step towards the bed.

“Why are you here?” Pencil asked, a bit harsher than she probably should have been.

“I… live here…” Fanny answered slowly, as if she was double checking the fact that she did, in fact, live in her own apartment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with your team?” Pencil snarked, feeling a twinge of jealousy deep into her voice.

“Okay, jeez, if you wanted me to leave you should have just said so,” Fanny rolled her eyes, beginning to leave the room.

“No! Wait!” Pencil cried suddenly, holding a hand out as of to pull the woman back. Fanny turned around, looking at Pencil, unsure.

“I- sorry. I just… thought you would be spending the night with your team,” Pencil admitted, lowering her arm.

“Why would I do that?” Fanny asked, jumping up to sit at the end of the bed.

“Well, Y’know, since they’re back now…” Pencil trailed, feeling a bit awkward, “you don’t really have to stay with me anymore.” Fanny was silent for a few moments before realization dawned on her face.

“Wait- you… you think I’m staying with you because I have to?” Fanny questioned in a near laugh. Pencil felt her face flush at the woman’s words, slightly embarrassed.

“Pencil, you idiot, I’m staying with you because I want to! If I didn’t like being with you, I’d have left ages ago!” Fanny chuckled lowly, scooting over to sit closer to Pencil. The wooden woman’s face burned with shame. Oh, what was she thinking!? Of course Fanny wouldn’t abandon her just because her team was back. Wood, Pencil really was dense, wasn’t she?

‘Pencil, if I wanted to kill you, I’d have already done so.’

Pencil shook away the memory. Oh, how things had changed.

“Sorry, I guess my feelings are a bit muddled because I-“ Pencil cut herself off. That was close.

“Woah, that was close. I was just about to say I love you,” Pencil laughed. Oh. Wait. DAMNIT!

“Uh- wh- what?” Fanny stuttered, her face flushing profusely.

“Uhm- let’s just pretend I didn’t say that,” Pencil chuckled, nervous.

“You… love me?” Fanny questioned, voice small. Pencil nodded shamefully. Great; if she hadn’t already ruined their friendship, she sure as lead had done it now. Fanny was silent for a few moments longer before inhaling sharply. Then, Pencil felt something soft press onto her lips. Fanny’s eyes were closed tightly as she kissed Pencil with a determined expression on her face. Pencil wasn’t sure if she wanted to lean into the kiss or start screaming.

“Ahhh!” Fanny yelled as she broke away, “oh my air! I don’t know what that was!” She cried, looking panicked. Pencil, already missing the feeling of Fanny’s lips on her own, grabbed the back of Fanny’s head and pushed their faces together, now leading the kiss. Fanny let out a muffled ‘oh’ before leaning into the kiss passionately.

“Does this mean you love me too?” Pencil whispered against Fanny’s lips.

“What do you think, idiot?” Fanny murmured back, her angry demeanour returning after the brief shock. Pencil laughed, flopping down onto her back and pulling Fanny onto her chest. Of all the ways this day could have gone, Pencil would have never predicted this in a million years.

Not that it wasn’t unwelcome, though.