16 - Healing



It had been a week since my encounter with Ink, and I was essentially useless. I couldn't move, due to my arms and legs both being broken, and that meant I couldn't fight either. I didn't like being useless, but I had no choice at the moment. My limbs were in casts, and they had to be checked two times a day to heal properly, which was a huge pain for all involved - mostly me, since I was in actual physical pain. That wasn't a good joke. Anyway, Paps kept me company in my uselessness, and the others kept me occupied with games and stuff when they weren't out working. They looked like they came home with more cuts and bruises than before without my help; I wished I could have done something, but I couldn't, and it hurt. I should have never let them capture me. I could have predicted the strike and dodged it; I could have done something different, and then the others wouldn't have suffered because of me.


I didn't want to be a disappointment. I could be called a coward, a loser, and even a murderer, but I didn't want to be called a disappointment; I wouldn't allow myself to be called a disappointment. I could find some way to help the others; I would find a way. On the bright side, Nightmare didn't object to being called 'Dad' anymore; We called him that now.


"Dusty!" Killer greeted me.


"Dusty?" I asked.


"Yeah, it's a nickname! Like it?"


"Sure. Do you get a nickname too?"


"We're workin' on it; yours was the easiest."


"So how's it going?"


"Pretty good: we managed to do a lot today, but we still miss ya."


"I wish I could do something.."


"Hey, ya will do somethin,' but ya gotta heal first. You'll be back out there with us eventually."


"I feel so..useless."


"You're not useless! Ya make a bad day better!"


"No I don't."


"Well, ya might not think so, but we do! That's why we're gonna do somethin' special for ya!"


"You don't have to do anything for me; I don't deserve it anyway."


"We aren't gonna hear it! We're doin' somethin,' and that's final!"


"Really-"


"Shh, no talkin.' Just accept it."


"But-" 


"No." 


"Fine.."


"There we go!"


I let out a sigh, since I couldn't move, and looked at Killer sadly. 


"Okay, get ready for somethin' really fun!" Killer jumped. "Bring it in!"


Horror and Nightmare walked into the room with smiles.


"Dusty, are ya ready?" Killer questioned.


"Do I have a choice?"


"Not really. Here we go!"


Nightmare and Horror presented me with my camera. The last time I saw it, it was broken, having fallen out of a tree. They fixed it. I felt the tears forming in my eyesockets; I didn't know what to say to this.


"That isn't the reaction I expected." Killer stated.


"Nah, he likes i,' jus' don't know how ta say i.'" Horror responded.


"I hope we didn't break him."


"That ain't the bes' way ta put i.'"


"Oh. You're right. Sorry, Dusty."


"Thank you...so much.." I managed to say.


"You're welcome!" The three of them replied simultaneously.


"Now for the second part of the visit.." Nightmare ruined the moment, but that was all right.


I groaned.


"Killer, Horror, please leave the room; I don't want you to see this." Nightmare sighed.


"Okay, Dad" Killer and Horror left my bedroom.


"Are you ready?"


"Yeah.."


"Okay."


Nightmare was the one who checked my casts to make sure I was healing properly, and since we didn't have any sources for good medical equipment, we had to make do with what we had; that meant that we had temporary casts, which needed to be changed often. Nightmare was a good healer, though, and made it work. This, unfortunately, hurt really bad, and it didn't help when Nightmare started crying. I guess the thought that somebody would do this to someone you cared for was too much for him. To be honest, I would have probably done the same thing if somebody did this to someone I cared for.


"All right..this is the part that hurts. Hold on, I'll try to make it quick." Nightmare took a deep breath before continuing.


He released the casts, which hurt immensely, but I tried not to react; I failed in that regard. Nightmare winced when he saw the broken bones, but started tending them quickly. I believed this hurt him just as much as it hurt me: another reason for me to find a way to help them. Within ten minutes, the process was completed, and we both let out a sigh of relief.


"Feel better now?" Nightmare wondered.


"Yeah..thanks." I answered.


"I can sense your feelings, Dust. You don't have to try to hide them."


"I..don't want you to worry about me."


"I know. That doesn't change the fact that I do, though."


"I want to help you out there; I see you coming home hurt every time you go out."


"At the moment, we'll have to deal with it. You have no means of fighting right now; the most you could do for us is staying yourself and healing."


"I still want to do something."


"Well, I don't know what you can do in your condition, but I'm sure you'll find something. Just please don't let it be anything too dangerous."


"All right. Thanks, Dad."


"I can't believe you talked me into letting you call me that."


"Well, you could call us something."


"Like what?"


"Like...I don't know. Something."


"Oh, yes; Nightmare and his gang of somethings."


I laughed at that.


"Get better now, Dust."


"Not get better soon?"


"Getting better now is better than soon."


"That logic is pretty solid."


"But really, feel better."


"I will."


"Good. Killer, Horror, you can come in now!"


The two eager skeletons entered the room quickly, since they were probably waiting behind the door the entire time. I was immediately bombarded with questions of how I was, stories, and random thoughts, which lasted for probably two hours; Paps got tired of that after the first ten minutes and went to float around the house. I loved having fun with my unofficially adopted brothers - we had agreed to be brothers, but couldn't make it official for obvious reasons - and our unofficially adopted dad. They made me forget about the constant pain and casts, and we overall had a great time together. They were my living family, and I would do anything for them. 


A couple weeks passed, and my wounds were healing nicely; at least that's what Nightmare said. I still couldn't move, which was my biggest problem, but my magic was back, so I guess that was a plus. I was glad I didn't rely on my magic at all; those weeks were difficult either way, but that would have made it so much worse. Killer and Horror were doing a lot of crazy stuff to keep me from thinking about pain, and honestly, it was working. Paps did the most, though; he was always great at keeping me occupied, since he did it for over a decade. Speaking of that, we still hadn't told Horror about how Nightmare found me, and I doubted we ever would; it was hard just to think about it sometimes. I was quite literally bored out of my mind: that is, I was so bored that I was out of my mind. I'm not going to put it lightly: I was insane before, and I still was.


The weeks passed slowly, but eventually, I was once again able to walk, with a bit of help. I had to lean on somebody for the first few days until I got used to walking again; I was out of commission for way too long. Nightmare told me that I would be able to join them once again when I was able to move better, but we would take it slow: good thing I was patient. Patience really was a virtue. Before the resets stopped, I was always so eager and impatient for the kid to fall, as if that would hurry it up. After they ended, I learned how to wait; I really had to. It started out as waiting for the kid to come back, but as it became more and more clear that it would never happen, it turned into waiting for everything. I had to ration food, wait until I could fall asleep again, and even wait to talk to Papyrus sometimes. Patience was important, is important, and would continue to be important; I was so glad I learned it when I had the chance.


It took me a month and a half to finally heal from my broken bones and regain my ability to walk alone; now I only had to train myself with my weapons again. That wasn't hard, since I had constantly gone over each action in my mind when I couldn't move. I only had to spend a couple days training to return to a point near my previous level. Nightmare said I would make a full recovery, which was the best news of the entire ordeal. Pretty soon after that, I was allowed to join the others once again. Nightmare said I didn't have to get back into the trees if I didn't want to; falling out of a tree into a rather undesirable experience may have shaken the confidence of some. I just really didn't feel like climbing a tree every time I fought. I took this job on the ground, and I felt better about it. I was using my dagger more than my slingshot, but I was trained well with both, so that didn't bother me.


When Ink, Dream, and the swapped brothers came to protect the universe, they looked rather shocked that I was back in action. Perhaps they thought I had quit, died, or Ink had told them some ridiculous story to cover up my condition; whichever was true didn't matter at the moment, though, since I was ready to face them alongside my family. Ink began the conversation.


"I thought you liked climbing trees. Did something break that part of you?" Ink started.


I simply said nothing, waiting for him to get angry. 


"What, not gonna talk?" Ink glared.


I lifted my camera and took a picture of his glare; that was too good to miss.


"What are you doing?" Ink wasn't happy. I figured now was a good time to speak.


"I have tons of pictures of your glares of hatred towards me. You look great on camera." I got a few laughs.


"You what?!"


"I take pictures." 


"Why do you take pictures of me?!"


"So I can show them to my friends and laugh at you behind your back; you probably do the same thing with us."


"Enough talk! Nightmare, we're going to stop you and your gang from hurting this AU!"


"I highly doubt that." Nightmare prepared for battle.


"Then we'll just have to find out, won't we?"


The battle commenced at this point, and we began fighting. Ink obviously went straight for me, which was predictable, seeing as he hated me to the point of wanting to kill me. Killer and Horror were a bit tied up with the swapped brothers, leaving me to battle Ink alone, which I was fine with; I had years of practice, and I could hold my own pretty well. Paps was also a great help during the battle, since he could keep most of Ink's paint stuck on his brush; he had obviously never fought a ghost before, and I wasn't going to ruin it for him. I was perfectly content with letting him get angry at his paintbrush for choosing now to be stubborn, knowing full well that it was actually the best brother ever. Paps also redirected some of the swapped brothers' attacks towards Ink or eachother, promoting mass confusion among all three of them; they were looking hesitant to use magical attacks, in fear that it would hit one of their friends. Paps really is the best. 


The protectors were forced to flee, and I would give all the credit to Papyrus. He really fought well, and we didn't hesitate to tell him that; He even made his scarf invisible so nobody would notice the random floating scarf. When we got back home, I gave Paps the biggest non-touching hug I could, and complimented him a lot; he really liked compliments, and I wasn't going to ruin that. Now that I was in good enough condition to fight again, everybody was happy; well, not too happy. We did have to spread negativity; we were negatively happy. When Horror eventually had to leave to have dinner with his brother, Nightmare, Killer, Paps, and I were in the living room.


"Hey, Dad?" Killer looked like he wanted something.


"Yes?" Nightmare knew Killer wanted something.


"Can ya tell us a story?"


"What kind of story?"


"Any kind."


"I guess I can think of a story. Happy or sad?"


"Maybe a bit of both?"


"All right."


Killer and I settled in for story time while Nightmare thought of a suitable story.


"Okay, once upon a time, there was a potato. He had a not-so-nice life, because everybody in his family was loved except for him. In fact, all of the potatoes except his brother hated him. The potatoes would often tease and bully him because he was a small potato, and couldn't grow big enough to be harvested. One day, the farmer came to look at the potatoes, and saw that all of the potatoes were big and ready to harvest, except for that one potato. The farmer took all of the potatoes and made potato soup, but that one potato wasn't good enough for the soup, so he lived while everybody else died. All of the potatoes including his brother were being turned into soup, but he was just a small potato, so he lived. When he was thrown away, he turned into compost and helped a lot of other plants grow big and strong. He was happy with being able to help those new plants, and lived the rest of his days being loved because he was compost. The end." Nightmare's story was both confusing and hunger inducing.


"I wanna..eat potatoes..now.." Killer craved.


"Nice to know you enjoyed the story." 


"It was pretty cool." I commented.


"Thank you, Dust." 


"No problem. I'm going to go get some sleep; Paps says I need it."


"Enjoy your rest."


"Thanks, Dad."


After this exchange, I walked to my room with Paps. I actually was tired, which meant Paps knew best. He's the best. I opened the door to my room, closed it, put my camera on my dresser, and hopped into bed. Covering myself with my blanket, I said good night to Papyrus and fell asleep into another dusty nightmare. It didn't bother me. 


Nothing bothered me.


~~~chapter end woot~~~


Dust bean better now, yay!


Thanks for reading my healthy writing!


Bye!

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