2024-02-27: minor edits until i can rewrite it
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Soon, Erratum was standing on the bathroom counter, trying to find the bandages.
"1 çÅñȚ f1ñĐ ťHəM."
"Try the top shelf."
"1 çÅñ'Ť ŕ3ă€h 1ț!"
"Stand on the bottom shelf then!"
Erratum followed Blue's 'advice', hanging on with one hand as he searched the back of the medicine cabinet. A bottle of pills came toppling out as he grabbed several dusty rolls of bandages. Blue tossed the pills up to him, and he read the label.

"₩h4ț'š ŤyŁøŃąĽ?"

Blue shrugged. Erratum would have to ask Dust about it later. He placed it back where it belonged and hopped off the counter.

Blue began expertly wrapping the back of his skull. "I don't see why you can't just use your strings to heal it," Blue remarked. "1 đ0ñ'Ț f3ê£ ł1ķ3 įȚ," he lied. The real reason was that he was quite drained from opening a portal to a different multiverse. That, coupled with making a bunch of clothing, left him with only a fraction of the magic he usually possessed, even after a fight with Inky. He hated lying to Blue, but he also didn't want him to worry.
"That's not a good reason, RuRu." Blue finished bandaging Erratum's wound. "I know it'll heal up eventually, but still..."

After that, they went to breakfast. It was pancakes. "...Aren't you gonna eat, Erratum?" asked Dust. Erratum was sitting next to Blue, watching everyone eat. "ÑåH."
"But breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" Horror exclaimed. Erratum shrugged.

Nightmare looked at him suspiciously. "Erratum, why do you have your hood up?"
"ÚhM, ñ0 ŕ3à$òŃ..."
"Erratum."
"1, ůH, m1ğHț'Və Fè£ł... Đø₩ñ Å f£īĢhȚ øF šŤâ1ř$."
"You wHAT?!?"

Nightmare made Erratum take off his hood, revealing the bandages. "Wha- Did you even dust them off before using them?" exclaimed Horror. "That's how you get an infection!" He got up and began reaching for the bandages, but was blocked by a very small hand. "Blue, let me unwrap the bandages and wash them. We should probably wash the wound itself, come to think of it."

Blue reluctantly withdrew his hand, and Horror examined the bandages. "Wow, these are actually wrapped really well! Who wrapped it?" he asked. "I did," responded Blue. Horror looked at him for a second, as if seeing something he hadn't noticed before. "Have you... had to do this before?" he asked tentatively. Blue shrugged, but the smile on his face seemed a little strained. "A couple of ti-"
"Å ł0ț 0f ȚįMê$." Erratum received a mild glare from Blue. "₩hÅţ? Țh3ý'Đ 3v3ńŤůÂł£ý FîŅđ 0úŢ éVěŘýȚh1ņĞ âÑý₩ãÝş." 'At least, on the topic of injuries,' he added in sign language. Everyone who was watching his hands heard static, like they did when he was speaking, but a bit quieter.

Everyone looked at him, surprised. Nightmare, who had taken a few courses in sign language, only recognized a couple. He figured they were using a different dialect, as the other signs were slightly or completely different than any he had seen before. There were more pressing matters at hand than dialects, though.

"Why did I hear static when you signed?" Dust inquired. "ßê€ãÜš3 øF m¥ ğ£ìȚćHé$. ßłÚé ÂņĐ 1 Đį$ç0v3ř3đ à wHı£ë Ąg0 ťHãŤ, ñ0 mÁțŢêŘ h0w 1 ç0mMûŃì€âŤé, ₩h0êVəŔ h3âŔš, ŘéĀđ$, óŘ ś3ē$ ìŤ h3âŔş $ťĂţ1ç. Ťh3 v0ļŰm3 øF ţHě $ťÃţ1ç ĐêPêŃđ$ óŇ țHë ₩㥠1'm €óMmÙņ1ćĀť1ñĞ," explained Erratum. "In order from loudest to quietest," added Blue, "they're speaking, signing, handwriting, and typed letters. The amount people understand doesn't seem to change how loud the static is. I hypothesize that the more 'distance' it is from a voice- that is, how close it is to actually speaking- the less static. So signing, since it's the closest, has louder static then handwriting."

The group thought about this for a second. "But," wondered Dust, "why is there a difference between handwritten and typed letters?"
"MòŘê 'Đì$ťÅñ€ê'," replied Erratum. "ŤýPìŃĢ ł3ţŢēŔş 1ś ĐíFf3ŕ3ñŤ ťHêŃ wŘīŤıÑģ Ťh3m."

After that... confusing debacle, there was only one more thing Nightmare had to know. Well, there were more than one, but this was the most important thing. "Erratum, can you take off the bandage?" he asked. "I need to see how bad the injury is." Erratum nodded reluctantly. He didn't really want Nightmare freaking out about his skull, but he couldn't find a suitable reason for saying no.

He began unwinding the cloth, taking a moment to find the edge. "ßéFöŘé 1 šHô₩ ý0ù, Đò ¥őŮ gÙý$ pŔõMį$é ÑőŤ ť0 fŔéÅk 0űŢ óŘ åÑýŤh1ņG?" he asked, holding the remaining piece of the bandage to his skull. Nightmare, Horror, and Dust hesitantly nodded, wondering just how bad the injury was. The rest of the gang were still asleep. No one woke them up because they'd probably get thrown out of a window.

Erratum removed his hand, letting the bandage fall. Horror immediately vaulted up to get a more thorough look at the injury. He had barely caught a glance at it before he whispered, "Holy sh!t." Erratum stayed as still as he could, hoping none of the gang would try to make physical contact and trigger his haphephobia (I think that's the word for it). In a flash, Dust and Nightmare were out of their seats as well, worried about how hurt Erratum must be for even Horror to be shocked.

Erratum's skull was cracked the way a windshield might be if you threw a rock at it, the fracture a spiderweb of black against the charcoal of his skull, dried marrow coating the edges. The bleeding had stopped, of course, but it still looked horrifying, especially on a five-year-old. "Gods, Erratum!" Nightmare exclaimed. "Don't keep this sort of stuff to yourself! You need to go to the hospital!"
"Doesn't that hurt?" wondered Dust. "Yeah," added Horror, "most people would barely be able to move, let alone go to breakfast! When my skull was split open," he tapped the edge of the hole in his skull, "I could barely stay concious."

Erratum shrugged. "HıGh Pâ1ñ Ťő£éŔåŇć3, 1 gÙė$ş," he responded, leaving the three skeletons wondering (and worrying) about just how much he went through to act like this was normal, and how many times Blue had to treat his injuries. Blue, of course, stayed perfectly calm throughout their freak-out, sipping on some apple juice.

"How are you so calm about this?" Horror asked Blue, who shrugged. "It just happens, I guess."
"Wha- How old are you two, anyway?" wondered Dust. "You seem very mature for five-year-olds."
"₩øÛłĐ ý0ů £ïKë Țh3 ñ0ŕMå£ áÑş₩ęŘ õŔ ťHē Ţě€ñ1çÅĺ£ý €őŘŕ3čȚ őŇé?" countered Erratum.
"Umm... The normal one, I guess."
"1'm ÅľMò$ţ 6 āŃď ßļÜé'$ 5 1/2."

There was a moment of shocked silence.

"...Can I put the bandage back on now?" Blue asked, shattering the stillness.
"Wha- kiddo, we've gotta get Erratum to the hospital!" exclaimed Horror.
"1'm FîŅě," Erratum protested.
"You are covered in scars, you have a severe head wound, and, from what I've seen, you probably have some sort of PTSD," Dust pointed out. "You are most certainly not fine. At the very least, your skull should be checked and healed by a doctor."

Dust reached for Erratum's arm. Erratum flinched and teleported to the top of the refrigerator in an effort to get away. "...Ťh1ş 1ś ŅôŢ wHèŔĕ 1 m3àÑť Țő Gø," Erratum said blankly. He hopped off the fridge and hid behind Blue. "Pŕ3ț3ñĎ 1 āPp3àŔêĐ h3ŕ3."

"Unpredictable magic can be a symptom of concussions," Horror blurted out. "I, uh, read some posters in the doctor's waiting room after my head injury," he sheepishly explained after everyone's eyes turned to him. "Well, that's just one more reason to go to the hospital," Nightmare pointed out, turning to Erratum and Blue. "Come on," he cajoled. "It won't be that bad."
"1 Ām Ñ0Ț ğ0íÑģ Ţő Å h0śPïŤâ£!"

Ten minutes later, a very irritated Erratum and mildly annoyed Blue, now wearing the clothes Erratum made, were sitting in the back seat of the car, with Dust in between to make sure they kept their seatbelts on and didn't try to jump out the window or anything. Nightmare was driving, and Horror was in the passenger seat. They had left a note on the table detailing where they had gone and why.

"...This is all my fault," mumbled Blue glumly. "If I hadn't dragged him down the stairs, this wouldn't have happened."
"Ñõ, ßłŮê," reassured Erratum, "įȚ wÅš Mý Đé€ì$ï0ń Ţø Fâ£ľ. 1 wÂņŤěĐ ţ0 mĀk3 šÛŕ3 ý0ü ĎīĐň'Ţ g3ț HūŔţ. 1ť ₩â$ń'Ț ý0ùŘ fÂù£ţ Ăť Åł£."
"That just makes me feel worse..."
"Åw₩, đ0ñ'Ț b3 šŮçH ā Đø₩ņ3ŕ. ¥öŪ ś0űŅđ £ìKê Ù$!HáPşŤąßł0øK."
Blue just sighed and turned to the window.

"...Who's U.S. Hapstablook?" wondered Dust.
"Ů$!HäPšŢâßł0òĶ," corrected Erratum. "₩ĕ Ķñ3w HìM." He sounded vaguely wistful and sad, but at the same time almost relieved? It was hard to tell.

"...Knew?" inquired Horror. This invoked a long period of silence from the two mysterious children that lasted until Nightmare pulled into the hospital. "We're here," he said unneccesarily, getting out of the vehicle. Dust looked at Erratum, who was struggling to get out of his seatbelt without damaging it. He smirked. "Need a little help, kiddo?"
"$hŰț Ūp," Erratum grumbled, though he allowed Dust to unbuckle him.

Blue had already gotten out of the vehicle, and was being watched by Horror, in case he tried to escape. It was unneeded, though. Erratum stomped over to him and stood there, glaring at the 'older' skeletons, who were waiting for them to catch up. It was a pretty intense glare, though tempered by sadness and nostalgia.

'His' Bad Sanses had fussed and fretted over every injury he recieved, no matter how minor, and memories flooded his mind of how 'his' Nightmare had insisted he eat some full-hp food after practically every fight, or how 'his' Dust learned first aid after finding out normal healing magic didn't work on him. They were brothers in all but blood, including prank wars and disputes over chocolate. He missed them a lot, but this was no time to get emotional. He pulled himself together and looked pleadingly at Blue, who just sighed and motioned towards the trio of concerned skeletons.

Having resigned themselves to their fate, Erratum and Blue followed Dust, Horror, and Nightmare into the hospital. The receptionist greeted them as they stepped into the surprisingly empty waiting room. "Good morning, how can I help you?" she asked in a pleasant voice. Nightmare was about to respond when Erratum jumped in.
"Mý $kŮļ£ ì$ fŘå€țÜŕ3ď ĄńĎ 1 pŔøßăßł¥ hĀv3 ă €öŅćŰš$î0ņ," he explained bluntly. "1 f3ĺ£ đ0wŇ țHē $ţÅįŘś."

"O-oh," the receptionist said, shocked at how calm the small child was. She quickly collected herself, though, as the group needed checking in. "I just need your name, sweetie, and then you can go rest."
"3ŕŘăŢúM Mī$çÄľ€ů£åŢı0ń," Erratum answered, and wandered over to the wall to study the posters. Blue followed him.

"Are those two your kids?" the receptionist asked Nightmare. "Oh, no," he responded. "Dust found them on the street and brought them home for a warm meal or two and a place to sleep, and things just sort of happened."
"They didn't have folks, and they're so young..." Dust trailed off, rubbing his arm. The receptionist nodded sympathetically. "How old is Erratum? Do you know of any prior medical history or injuries?" she asked.
"Erratum's covered in scars," Dust replied, "but he didn't tell us where he got them from. He said he's almost six, but we don't know for sure."

The receptionist nodded slowly with an odd look on her face, somewhere between horrified and surprised. She typed a bit on the computer and told them a doctor would be available in a bit.

Nightmare and Horror browsed through magazines while Dust kept an eye on Erratum and Blue. This did not go unnoticed, and, after reading all the posters, the children wandered over to him, waiting on a nearby bench and whispering to eachother. He didn't understand much, but, from what he did pick up, he got the impression that they were getting their cover story straight about how Erratum got so many scars.

Finally, Erratum's name was called, and they were taken to another room, leaving the waiting room devoid of patients once more. A doctor was waiting for them, and greeted them kindly. "You must be Erratum," he said, smiling gently. "I'm Dr. Goodman, and I'll be your pediatrician today. Can you tell me what's wrong?" Erratum pulled off his hat, revealing the bandages that were carefully rewrapped around his skull. "1 fŔå€ťÙř3đ Mý $kŰļ£," he replied matter-of-factly. The doctor looked at him, then at Nightmare. "How bad is it?"

Nightmare grimaced slightly. "Pretty bad."
"It looks like a car's windshield after you throw a rock at it," added Horror. Dr. Goodman frowned. Perhaps they were overreacting a bit. He would have to see the injury to know for sure. "Could one of you help Erratum take the bandage off?" he asked, directing his attention to the adults. "I need to see the wound."

He was not expecting the other kid, who appeared even younger than Erratum, to step forward and begin unwrapping the bandages, and wow. That was a pretty serious wound. They were not exaggerating or overreacting. "Oh," was all he said as the bandages fell to the floor. "That is pretty bad."

After a moment, he recovered his professionalism. "Do you need some pain meds or anything?"
"Ņò, ȚhÁňK ý0ů."
"Alright. On a scale of one to ten, one being nonexistent and ten being the worst pain you can imagine, how would you rate your pain?"
Erratum shrugged. "£įKĕ 3." The ache of a fractured skull was nothing compared to the burning of Inky's red paint.

"...3? Doesn't it hurt? Like, a lot?"
"¥ęĄh."
"I-" The doctor sighed. "Is it alright if I do a CAT scan? If you have a concussion, it'll need to be specifically targeted by our healers when they heal the injury." He had inadvertently started speaking to the kid as if he was an adult, and not someone who was barely kindergarten age. Dr. Goodman waited for the kid to look confused, to ask what a concussion or a CAT scan was, but Erratum simply nodded. "1'm Åł£éŔğ1ç Țø 0ťH3ř Pę0p£é'š HéÃļ1ňĢ MāĞì€," he informed the doctor.

Dr. Goodman blinked. He'd never heard of someone who was allergic to healing magic. "You said 'other people's'," he noticed. "Does that mean you can heal yourself?"
"¥əĄh. 1 çÂņ HéÅľ 0ťHęŔś, Țó0, bŰť 1ț ŢäĶę$ m0ŕ3 ėfFõŘţ." He couldn't do either currently, but he wasn't going to tell anyone that.

This kid was just one surprise after the next, wasn't he? Dr. Goodman paged the radiology department and told them to get the CAT-scan machine ready, and the group of skeletons were lead to a wing of the hospital marked, "Radiology".
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The ending feels kinda rushed to me, but I wanted this chapter out. Comment any questions, comments, or concerns about anything, book-related or not, I don't care. Shameless self-promo here: check out my other books! Children of Chaos [What If? Version] is going to be updated next!