(Ink)

Error's bathroom tile was plain and old. I stared at it as the water slowly washed my shame away, studying the small cracks in the plain white enameled surface. His body wash smelled like charcoal, which it contained. I didn't use his shampoo because I'd rather not have to worry about his two-in-one messing up my hair.

Scrubbing my body slowly, I stood in the shower until the water ran cold. Error never bothered me. He let me have my time alone. Though he must've heard the shower shut off because he knocked.

"Hey, Ink? I made some hot chocolate for when you're dressed," he said and I heard his footsteps recede.

"Thanks," I called through the door. I pulled on a pair of Error's basketball shorts and one of his larger t-shirts, wishing I had my underwear. Stupidly I left them at his house. As I picked up the shirt though, a pair of plain grey boxers fell to the floor. Smiling, I put them on after removing the shorts and putting them back on.

Rubbing a towel through my hair I left his little bathroom to find him sitting on the couch, looking tense. He noticed my exit and turned to me, flashing me a worried smile. Plopping down beside him I silently accepted a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Taking a sip I found it rich and creamy. Not that powder, I thought, no way it could be powder.

"Thanks," I said, looking over at Error. He nodded and we sat in comfortable silence for a while.

I need to tell him, I thought morosely.  He deserved to know what happened. Deserved the chance to kick me out or do whatever he may. God, I've ruined everything...

"Error, I need to explain something," I said, setting down my mug. He looked over, still a bit tense.

"Inky, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to," he said, "It's your life and-"

"And so I can share it with whomever I want, and that means you," I told him. He went quiet, glancing away.

"Then you don't have to tell me now, if you're not comfortable," he said softly.

He's so sweet, a smile flickered on my features before dying away. Looking at my lap, I took a few breaths.

"I...have to tell you..." It hurts to say it...

"I had a...a...a one-night stand..." I choked, feeling fresh tears start to burn, "With...with-"

I looked up with fresh tears rolling slowly down my face and choked out, "With Lust."

(Error)

I'm going to kill him. 

I swear to God I am going to kill that asshole.

Lust is going to die.

Rage. Pure, unfiltered, boiling rage forced me to my feet at his words. Ink stared up at me in fear and shame, shaking as he watched me. He leaned back slightly, shrinking under my shadow and raising his arm in instant defensive posture. It only made me angrier. As I looked down at him he choked again, avoiding my eyes.

"I'm sorry..." he whimpered, closing his eyes and holding his arm up, shaking. My fury died away instantaneously and I sat back down, feeling slightly regretful.

"Did he hurt you?" I asked him. He took a shuddering breath, peeking at me from behind his arm.

"Wh-what?"

"Did Lust hurt you?"

Ink sat up a bit, putting his arm down, "Y-you're not m-mad?"

"I only care about you, Ink," I said earnestly, "Are you hurt? What did he do to you?"

"He-he took advantage of me..." more tears started to fall, "He-he found me a-at Grillby's. I'd been drinking an-and he k-kissed me. I was so drunk I couldn't think straight and he took me t-to his place and-and-and-" Ink choked, shaking his head, "Error, I'm so sorry! We haven't even been intimate but I cheated on you!"

He stood up, shaking and rushing to grab his hoodie as he cried. "I'm sorry, I have to go." 

"Ink, wait-" He ran out of my door before I could catch him. "Ink!" I ran to the door and the hallway only to see him disappear down the stairs.

(Ink)

I'm such a fool. "I hate him! He ruined me!" I huffed angrily, storming down the street as I wiped my face. I just want to love again.

Just as I felt like I had a new life away from Lust, away from the Orchid, away from all my mistakes, he goes and destroys it again!

Yanking my hood over my head, I fumed about Lust. About our second one-nighter right after I find a new relationship. About his possessive nature. Why can't he leave me alone?

I never heard the sound of tires on asphalt, the shout of a passerby, the horn. I walked blind and ignorant of the world, not even noticing the concrete change.

All I heard was the screech of rubber before burning pain slammed into my side and it all went dark.

(Error)

Rushing down the stairs of my apartment, I looked around frantically for a sign of Ink. The echo of squealing tires sounded and I dashed to it, hoping for some sign of my boyfriend. The sign I found was not what I wanted.

Ink lay bashed and bleeding on the road, a streak of red leading from where he lay still to a car stopped in its tracks a few feet away.

"Ink!" I skidded to a halt by his side, fighting the urge to gag at the scent and sight of blood. He lay face down and needed to be flipped over but I couldn't touch him. The blood sickened me and touching his still flesh-I shivered at the thought, looking over at the driver of the car.

"He-he just walked right on the road, not even lookin'!" the driver exclaimed, running up to my side.

"C-can you flip him over?" I asked him, panting in worry and sickness, "I'll dial nine-one-one."

The driver nodded, crouching down to flip Ink onto his back as I pulled out my phone. At the sight of blood pooling on his lavender hair, I lost my internal fight and bent over, retching. I handed the ringing phone to the driver as I tried to recover, unable to look at Ink's face. Vaguely I heard the driver explain the situation and call for an ambulance. Stumbling over to the curb I sat down, holding my stomach, trying not to think about how cold Ink might be to the touch or how wet the blood is...more came up and I threw up into the storm drain beside me.

"Hey, buddy, you okay?" asked the driver and I half-nodded.

"I d-don't like the sight of blood," I said breathlessly, looking up at him, "and that's my boyfriend that you ran into."

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry," the driver stood straight, looking upset, "I-I tried beepin' at 'im but 'e wasn't payin' attention. I tried to stop n' swerve but-aw, I'm sorry, bud."

Standing up he handed me my phone back. As he walked to wait by Ink I dialed my brother Geno.

He picked up on the first ring, "Hey, Error, what's u-"

"Ink got hit by a car," I said shortly, "Can you and Reaper come meet me at the hospital?"

"Certainly. Where are you now?"

"It just happened. The ambulance is on its way. I don't even know what hospital we're going to."

"Call me when it gets there. I'll get Reaper ready."

"Thanks, Geno." We hung up.

Looking back over at Ink, I fought another wave. This is my fault...

No...

This is Lust's fault...

(Geno)

Hanging up the phone I went into the living room and grabbed Reaper's hoodie. I threw it at the couch potato, who caught it, surprised.

"We goin' somewhere, babe?" he asked, sitting up.

"Ink got hit by a car. Error's panicking. He needs us," I explained briefly. As I entered the front hall I heard a curse and the couch potato was soon standing beside me, his hoodie already on. Throwing my jacket on, we left the apartment and headed downstairs. Reaper pulled out his keys and together we got on his motorcycle, the blue skull paint job gleaming in the dull light of the public garage. Hugging his waist, I held on tight as he revved up and sped out of the garage, heading for Error's house. If he wasn't there, the ambulance had picked him up and we'd wait for his call.

But my brother needed me.

(Error)

The ambulance arrived and rushed to get Ink on a gurney. They asked if any of us would ride with him and I rushed over.

"I'm his boyfriend," I said breathlessly, relieved that Ink was getting help.

"Get in," the MT ushered me in and the drove away.

Gluing my eyes to the red cross on the first aid kit in front of me, I asked the MT where we were going.

"St. Walter Memorial," he answered, holding a mask to Ink's face.

I texted Geno the hospital name and held my stomach, fighting down the easing nausea. The MT eyed me.

"You okay there?"

"Yeah I'm fine," I nodded, "Not a fan of gore."

"Alright," a bag was shoved into my vision, "Just in case."

"Thanks," I took the bag and opened it a little so it was prepared in case I lost my internal fight again. I couldn't help my worried gaze from finding Ink, unconscious, and each time I looked at him a pang of regret filled me. 

I should've stopped him.
I should've been quicker.
I should've run faster after him.
I shouldn't've let him go after the park.
Oh, Ink I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry...

The ambulance stopped abruptly and I was shoved out the door. Ink on a gurney was rushed out and into the door, the MTs calling out instructions and numbers and directions that went completely over my head at the pace. Standing outside the hospital I stared up, finding it hard to breathe. The last time I was at one of these places...

"Error!" someone called, bringing me out of my memories. Turning around I was embraced by a white-hoodied body.

"Error, where is Ink?" Geno asked, breaking his short-lived hug to stare me in the eye.

"They, uh, they just took him in-inside..." I gestured at the hospital door. Geno eyed me as I turned back to him, frowning. He glanced at 'tall, dark, and handsome' and nodded towards the door.

"Go wait for him, I need to talk to Error," he commanded. Reaper nodded and went into the hospital. Geno called my attention back to him.

"Are you going to be okay? Last time we were here-"

"I know, I know..." I sighed, the memories flooding back and making me shiver.

"Dad died..."

(Reaper)

Standing on the other side of the glass I watched as they repaired Ink as well as they could. Luckily, there was no internal bleeding. His leg was broken and the hip bone was bruised and he required several stitches for the gash in his side and his head.

I followed him when they took him to a room for recovery. When the doctor saw me he smiled before frowning and glancing at Ink. His face paled and he looked at me with worried eyes.

"Reaper, what happened to L'Artiste?" he asked and I shook my head.

"You know he doesn't work there anymore. He's just Ink now, not 'L'Artiste'," I said, "And he got hit by a car, which your chart says, Science."

"Oh, right, right," Science nodded to himself, adjusting his red spectacles and taking his leave of the room, "Well, he should wake up soon. Call the nurses if anything happens."

"I will. Thanks, Science," I said, sitting in a chair to watch over Ink.

"It's my job, Reaper," Science smiled before rushing down the hall.

Sighing, I looked over at Ink, taking in his bandaged head and leg. He had a few bruises here and there from his impact on the ground, but otherwise, he looked just like he did when I saw him at the bowling alley.

But he also almost looked like he had nearly two years ago, when he came to me bruised and crying, asking to stay over. He had been on shaky legs and jumped at every noise. Refusing to go to the hospital. Silent and lost in his own thoughts for hours. Unwilling to speak about what had happened, even when he returned five more times just as bruised as before. 

Looking over at him, I felt angry and sorrowful. Ink was such a bright person and he had dealt with so much. He had a heart of gold and it had been taken advantage of.

He didn't deserve to be in an accident like this. All this fresh pain...

As if you weren't hurt enough already...