#((bc reasons and gdi i just minific'd okay i'll get to it eventually there's Reasons))

[nighttimepixels]

_(┐「ε:)_♡

Well, if you insist... It’s time to learn more about Dusk... and about her sister, Dawn.

Below a cut, because it sure did get long~

===

2 months later... and they still hadn’t found Dusk’s sister.

Your leg was healed by now, to your and the other's relief. There's not even a scar, to your pleasant surprise; between Blade's magic cooking and Twist's healing and care, not to mention the rest of the girl's insistence in their own ways of ensuring you take it easy, you've been very thoroughly nursed back to health.

Dusk, on the other hand... was a work in progress. She couldn’t move well thanks to her lost lower left leg, and Crimson, Cinnamon, and Alpha were still working on prototype prosthetics that could interface with her magic.

You spent the better half of your first week in healing at her side; at first, you could barely get away from her, if you were honest. It wasn’t until between yourself and an exasperated Crimson, you managed to communicate your genuine need to go to the bathroom - and Dusk, larger than even Blade though not quite as tall as Twist, couldn’t make it there in her condition... not that you would have wanted her to. You were embarrassed enough as it was, once she reluctantly let you go, her eyelight shrunk to the size of a dime in her massive sockets, when Crimson had to carry you there with your leg not ready to have weight on it.

After taking care of that, you ended up lingering and taking a bath, Crimson running it for you, lightening your heavy spirits and guilt for needing so much help by flirting and cracking her usual jokes. She left you a little reluctantly herself, warning you she’d bust the door down if she heard you struggling too much without calling for help. With the promise of a fresh change of clothes coming from the main house, you relaxed into the bubbles and soothing magical solution poured in, made by Twist herself.

... That is, until you heard a massive thump a few minutes later as you nearly nodded off in the massive bathtub, shaking the very floorboards. It was followed by a sound you could only liken to an anchor dragging along the ground, punctuated by several thumps.

The front door of the huge cottage thudded open then, followed by muffled swearing in Spanish, a grunted sound- you tried to sit up, splashing and letting out a grunt and then a squeak as you slipped, your propped up leg splashing into the hot water and causing you to swear as a stab of pain lit up your nerves.

“-dammit, stone for skull, she’s fine- i’ll check, just-”

By the time you were pulling your head back from the wave of pain and mild nausea, the door splintered and crashed inwards.

You yelped, jumping again and earning yourself another bolt of pain. Thankfully the enormous tub - hand built for both Blade and Twist’s size - had you up to your shoulders in water, especially as you curled in on yourself, your hands submerged over your injured leg-

-but your gaze locked onto Dusk, who was propped up on one elbow, her other hand splayed on the ground, no attention paid to the thick splinters beneath her massive hand. She was staring at you, singular eyelight a pinprick, vibrating, flashing around-

Crawling, because she had lost half her leg.

“ay coño-”

Crimson was right behind her, hand caught up in the patched up, fur-lined jacket Dusk wore, as if she’d been stuck between trying to help her up and also drag her back.

Magic was spreading across her cheekbones as she glanced up to you, frozen in shock. She glanced away again, grimacing.

“disculpa- ah, shit, i just stepped out for a sec t’ call Scar, she musta heard somethin’- c’mon Dusk, y’can’t just-”

Crimson attempted to scoop under Dusk’s raised arm, to pull her up or loop it over her shoulders to get her to her feet, you weren’t sure. But Dusk wasn’t moving. Rather, after a moment, she growled, before slipping into some roughly spoken words in her language you still didn’t understand - like listening to an old-timey radio, if that radio was in another country known for some sort of romance language.

Not once did her eyelight leave you.

Crimson’s face shifted, looking frustrated but...

You weren’t sure.

Her hand remained on Dusk’s arm, but she tried, haltingly, to say something in the same language- before huffing, grumbling as she looked away, a shadow passing over her face.

Her words were almost too soft for your human ears to catch, but...

“... i know, but people here don’t understand that kinda... protection.”

You swore you could feel your soul tighten in your chest.

“She...” you began, before having to swallow around the lump in your throat. Your face felt hot, and you glanced down at the water, tenderly adjusting your leg. “Um. If... if she needs to, she can stay. Just uh. Don’t... look, so intently?” You huffed an embarrassed sound, ducking lower, “I-I dunno, um, her back to the tub, maybe. You can... stay, like that, too, if it... helps, Crim...”

In the end, you had two red-eyed skeleton woman with their backs propped to the sculpted tub. Your face was nearly as red as Crimson’s, but she was playing it off well, at least, joking and telling you some stories about her countless hijinks. You were grateful for the mercy in her choice there - even as Dusk, not blushing in the slightest, sat sentinel near the head of the top where you sat. Just a little tense, as if she didn’t like not seeing you... but she eased whenever you responded.

It was the start of a trend.

Halfway through the week, while Dusk seemed reluctantly willing to let you go take care of normal human body things, if it lasted much longer than that she wouldn’t sit still. Several of your skeletal friends were less than pleased about this. Scarlet seemed ready to fight, but Crimson managed to talk her down, apparently. Amber seemed particularly concerned, but hid it pretty well, with a joking boop of your nose in reassurance that they’re all just a little wary of the unknown but things would calm down as she hung out with you nearly the entire second day. Pepper and Cinnamon seemed to strongly dislike the entire situation, but there was also a strange... and deep level of understanding there that wasn’t said but you could feel - propped as you were, facing your friends and housemates, with Dusk like an enormous shadow of a throne behind you, her femurs on either side of you. It was the only position where she seemed she’d feel willing to not be actively holding you.

Blade didn’t leave on her usual haunts of the forest nearly as much as she usually did.

Crimson was the only one who could really communicate with Dusk, though it seemed Dusk caught on to most of the conversation around her as the days passed, more and more - the glimmer of understanding clearer in her one remaining eyelight. Speaking English seemed to be another matter, but it was reassuring to at least be able to know she mostly understood you - even as you struggled to try to understand her.

The others were less happy when at one week you were cleared by Twist to be able to sleep in your own bed back in the main house - and you slowly, hesitantly asked and offered to continue staying in the cottage... where Dusk was staying for now, too.

In the end, you won out; the others, at the least, couldn’t argue that when Dusk caught onto the full context, she was not going to let you out of her sight easily, and your room was the smallest in the house - not that it wasn’t still huge by your standards - she simply wouldn’t be able to easily fit... or keep out of your privacy, as the other girls put it. So with the understanding that they’d be looping in to the cottage constantly, they acquiesced to your decision and just asked you let them know if anything changed or you needed something.

And so, another week passed.

You’d gotten to the point that Dusk would nod or shake her head to some of your questions - basic likes and dislikes, and so on, mostly. Yes or no questions could only go so far - and as Crimson admitted, she was a damn private person... not unlike herself and Blade, well, put together.

Still, it was a form of conversation, and you felt your heart skipping whenever there was a flicker of enjoyment, or pleasant surprise in her eyelight. Something you cooked for breakfast, a cup of strong coffee, the texture of a soft blanket, the sound of the ocean when you showed her nature videos, the sight of the clear sunny sky when with Twist’s help you got her outside, even more so the sight of the stars...

Before you knew it, two whole months had passed. You were getting close to moving back to your room, but Blade and Twist, despite their new roommate, seemed to actually resist your offers and worry about doing so and giving them more of their space back, Dusk’s own seemingly trauma-linked dislike of distance from you aside; you’d spent more time with them because of this, and they were very much so pleased with that side of things in their own way. And you’d effectively cemented yourself as determined to nurse and look after Dusk while her prosthetic was finished up, as the other girls were still busy and trying to handle the whole machine being turned on against the agreement thing, which was another story entirely.

And it felt like your heart would break when, for the first time, two months after she’d appeared, you finally caught her dozing off when you were still awake...

Only for her to wake up mere minutes later, her briefly lax, shadowed face suddenly tensing with what you could only describe as overwhelming fear.

She didn’t scream, she hardly moved - like she’d trained to hide any expression of weakness - but her sockets snapped open, singular eyelight missing, and the pillow beneath one hand nearly shredding under her grip.

You’d been in a comfortable palette bed next to the pillow and blanket pit in the living area she’d passed out in - close enough to relax her constant tension, but not quite touching, something that seemed to relieve the girls when the setup had been established. But when you saw her tense you’d risen a little, propping yourself up on your elbow, bandaged leg no longer jolting with pain when you moved -

And when she’d woken up in a way that would have been screaming in anyone else, you’d sat up, hands lifted towards her.

You murmured her name, touch slowly lowering to her arm. Her jacket had been washed just the once since coming here, a few days ago - the first time she apparently trusted the intentions of Sapphire and Vellum as they attempted for the umpteenth time to gently convince her to let them at least wash her things. It was softer now for it, the obvious hand-stitched nature of it more apparent for the removed grit and mud and stars knew what else. Her pants were... you didn’t know a word for it, actually, besides vaguely harem-style, only... not sheer. They had a dropped crotch, effectively, roomy but soft and warm, and came to a fur-lined cuff below the knee... well, on the one leg, anyways. The other was tied off below her femur, now.

Her head turned towards you, both too-quick and too-slow. Her sockets remained empty, though you murmured her name again.

She was a still as stone itself. Not even her ribcage moved.

... Slowly, so slowly, you shifted forward. It was clear that she was watching you, even with her single eyelight missing. Gently your touch moved to her hand... and slipped into her grasp, managing to coax her to loosen its death grip on the pillow.

It was almost comical, the size difference. Your hand wasn’t even the size of her palm.

Still, the intention was clear, and you gripped her hand as best you could, a sad smile on your face.

You knew night terrors. And you knew at least a little about the night terrors your other skeleton friends had.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “It’s okay. You’re here. I’m here. It’s safe, here. You’re safe.”

Her phalanges twitched around yours.

... And slowly, slowly, she looked away, up to the ceiling- and her hand closed around yours.

Time ticked by, like that.

You only moved to shift a little closer, your legs curling up on your little palette, her nest’s pillows spilling and leveling against it. Your other hand rested over hers, slowly stroking it.

And finally, for the first time since that first day...

“... n.ot... me.”

You blinked, staring up at her. She wasn’t looking at you still. Her fingers twitched a little around yours, gentle, and you realized - she was attempting, hesitantly, precisely what you were doing. To... stroke your hand back.

It was suddenly very hard to swallow.

She was quiet for several minutes. You had so many guesses- one, above all, the very question that had her completely stonewalling, whether from you or the others, even Crimson, since she got here.

At last, her head rolled a little, back to you. Her eyelight was back, now, small and faint, but there. You had the distinct impression that she was searching for something in your face.

Finally... she sighed, and slowly, almost painfully, rolled, propping herself up on one elbow, but not letting go of your hand. With her other, she made two gestures-

She pointed at herself, and then with a flat palm, pressed down on the air, just a little.

Smaller me-

“Crimson?” you murmured, surprised. Dusk had never... asked for her, before, but - she hadn’t avoided her, either. Admittedly, she seemed the most willing to talk to her, even if only in small amounts.

Dusk nodded.

----

Crimson had answered her phone on the second ring, sleep husking her voice, but more sharp and alert than you’d expected.

She was there in less than sixty seconds after you made your tentative request and explained what little you could. As usual, she was wearing just a pair of boxers - these ones a galaxy print - and she had a black band hoodie dragged on over it, a last second addition, you had no doubt.

Her hand came down on your shoulder, searching your face as you looked up at her, thanking her for coming so fast. With a shrug, she then smiled, looking tired but curiously focused. Her hand lifted and ruffled your hair, and despite your half-hearted protest and quiet laugh, she just chuckled.

“anytime, cielita. so... what’s up, Dusk?”

Crimson unceremoniously fell onto the nest of pillows as she addressed her, kicking up a leg over her knee and curiously searching the face of your motley crew’s latest addition. Dusk seemed to do the same.

Her hand still held yours. Crimson had obviously noted that, but to your surprise... didn’t say anything.

Dusk began speaking.

Your eyes widened. She’d never spoken this much before; part of you wondered if she could, if maybe her nigh-feral fangs and sharp teeth caused her too much pain to do so... but if it did, she didn’t show it. You couldn’t understand a word, but it wasn’t long before you were watching her expressions more than anything... and, when she inhaled sharply not thirty seconds in, Crimson’s face.

You... you didn’t like what you saw.

But Dusk wasn’t giving her time to translate- not yet, and it seemed like she needed to get this out, whatever this was.

For nearly five minutes, she spoke.

If you weren’t certain that whatever was being said was dark and dangerous and quite probably heart-breaking, you would have likened it to some kind of exercise in listening to the most pleasant cadence of language and inflection. You didn’t know what made her voice sound like a rich old radio’s quality, but you’d become accustomed to it, and enjoyed it as much as you could around your frustration at being unable to properly understand her...

It nearly jolted you when she suddenly ceased speaking.

Your head turned to Crimson. Her eyelights were gone, and despite the fact that she’d largely held the same seemingly laid-back posture the whole time... her hands were balled into fists. Slowly, she sat up, her feet dragging in the pillows.

“Crim..?” you gently pressed. You felt anxious, desperate to be let in, but you didn’t want to be demanding when-

“it’s... joder, i can’t...” Crimson shook her head, her sockets clenching shut as she slowly rested her elbows on her knees. “that’s...”

She took a breath. Above you, you could tell Dusk was looking down once more, but you weren’t sure you had the courage to glance up and see who she was looking at... or how.

“... she’d already explained a bit about her world,” Crimson managed, gaze still down, gazing into some dark middle distance. “like i’d explained to you all... all i could really get was that her world had a famine thanks t’the kid abandonin’ them ‘n killin’ queenie, but it was more vicious ‘n deadly than B ‘n Twist went through - more like me ‘n Scar’s...”

She took a slow breath, and finally, finally looked up with a heavy exhale.

It had been a long time since you’d seen her with that kind of weight and darkness to her expression, and it chilled you.

“... ‘pparently... rather than their Dyne simply goin’ mad with sorrow ‘n power ‘n rage, he... ended up tryin’ to absorb the souls.”

You inhaled sharply. You’d heard, eventually, from Blade and Twist what they’d gone through. But... “But, wouldn’t taking a soul, I mean- it’s not good, but one of them leaving, he could get more and come back to break everyone free, right-?”

Crimson grimaced, and shook her head, her eyelights dimming.

“that’s the kicker. it... wasn’t one. he... he tried to absorb ‘em all. ‘n... they had five at that point.”

You couldn’t help but gasp, and your hand tightened in Dusk’s.

... after a beat, she squeezed yours back.

“they’d lost ‘em all, but i guess Dusk ‘n her sis had been kinda doin’ some treason ‘n squirrelled away new ones after Dyne lost it and murdered the next human, destroyed ‘em to the point of their soul bein’ shattered ‘n lost. they weren’t gonna let it happen again... everyone was starvin’, too, so-” she glanced away. You understood - not unlike Blade and Twist, they had to do what they had to do. You simply nodded, and Crimson continued, “Dyne figured it out, though. ‘course the bastard did. snitch or spy, dunno, but he kept tryin’ t’find the proof, th’ souls, and...”

“He finally did...”

Crimson nodded, and now, her eyelights were burning brighter, angry.

“fucker raided the place, what shambles were left of the royal guard now his, and clingin’ to the power ‘n his bullshit promises of revenge and the surface bein’ their’s - but... but Dusk’s sis was there... preppin’ the fifth soul. Dusk was out distributin’ the, uh, food, and...”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You didn’t notice the single eyelight, transfixed on your every minute reaction.

Crimson dragged a clawed hand down her face.

“i didn’t understand all of it, ancient’s a tricky magical language ‘n i’m so damn rusty, but... they fought. everyone else was dead by the time Dusk got there, no longer able to teleport, already had her head injury from their last clash with Dyne... and Dyne had gotten hold of three of the souls. he’d fuckin’... he was some horrifyin’ thing. no longer a monster, no longer him - fuckin’ forty or fifty feet tall, and-” Crimson gestured, something unfamiliar but you understood the horror and disgust and wrongness of whatever it was conveying. “-Dusk’s sis had the last two souls, and- shit, that thing saw Dusk and before she could do a damn fuckin’ thing... her sis was reactin’. Dusk woulda been dust with a single swipe, but... her sister...”

You didn’t know when your hand had clapped over your mouth, agape - but the prick of heat in your eyes was undeniable.

“She... she absorbed the souls-?”

Without thinking, you looked up at Dusk.

She was staring down at you, cracked, battered face unreadable.

“... yeah. next thing Dusk knew, her sister was screamin’, writhin’- and the moment after, she was knocked on her back by something huge before Dyne could get to her - clean out the cave, into the forest.”

Your gaze was locked on Dusk’s, and you felt the wetness finally hit your cheeks.

“she came to and Dyne was no where to be seen, but half the forest was overgrown ‘n mowed down. ambient magic was overflowin’ in ways she’d never known, clearly affectin’ the environment. and over her was somethin’... someone 20, 30 feet tall.”

“Your sister,” you whispered, eyes stinging, your view of her face blurring a little. Your voice was almost too tight.

Dusk, ever so slightly, inclined her head.

“... she wasn’t... her. not exactly. not anymore. but for some reason she hadn’t completely de-stabilized either - she didn’t say much about that, but...” Crimson made a sound like a growl in her throat, and you heard the quiet sound of her phalanges sliding together and tightening. “for years now, guess her sister’s... been some sort of... sentinel, in the snowdin caverns. she can’t talk, doesn’t seem as... there. like she’s got just the one mission... and she does. Dyne’s still out there, i guess - completely mad, somethin’ that ain’t quite sentient, more beast than monster or... amalgamate. fucked up the rest of the underground, sent everyone scramblin’. guess they both put off insane levels of ambient magic, and the whole underground’s different for it, monsters more feral ‘n magical, ‘n the surroundings too. there’re two factions now, those that worship Dyne as some sorta god now that’ll deliver them from the underground if they can just sacrifice a few more souls to him. the others rallied in snowdin, dusk got ‘em to the ruins, only place that’s close t’safe. she’s hunted, and she hunts... ‘n tracks her sister, i guess. makin’ sure none of the huge number of fanatics bands t’gether enough to take down her sis, who is the only one who can fend off Dyne when crawls outta whatever hellhole he’s been digging lately. guess she was in the middle was disarmin’ one of the traps the fanatics laid out for her sis when she got dragged here, but uh, yeah, that went about as well as it obviously did.”

You were crying.

There was no hiding it. Your heart, your soul hurt, and you didn’t even know what to say.

No wonder she almost never slept. No wonder she didn’t want you out of her sight. Was she inclined to protect any human, if only to keep them out of her Dyne’s hands? Or had she been about to kill you at that first glance, pain-ridden mind only registering there was a human in the forest with her, a human that could be used to make Dyne more powerful, and wanting to extinguish that chance?

Had... she given up on ever seeing the sky...? With her people so altered, with some horrifying haunting threat and faux-god threatening their lives...

You were moving forward suddenly, hand leaving hers only to wrap your arms around as much of her as you could. She jolted, slightly - but you didn’t pause, didn’t pull back, your face burying into her chest and your hands balling into her jacket.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage for a moment, your voice choked. You squeezed tighter, a tiny sound breaking free of your throat as you fought the tears. “Dusk, I’m- I’m so sorry, oh my god, I d-don’t... I can’t even i-imagine-”

You only felt a fresh wave of tears when, so, so slowly... her arms shifted, and folded around you.

She held you, squeezing, eventually, but carefully, and you held her back. You didn’t see Crimson set a hand on her elbow, looking away, out the window, silent, her other hand clenched in a fist.

You didn’t know what lead Dusk to want to reveal this now. You didn’t know what exactly her night terror had been about - countless things in that tale were enough for a lifetime. It glossed entirely over so many things you could only hazard a terrible guess were equally horrifying and soul-breaking.

So, you simply hugged her, form shaking lightly, and she hugged you back.

...

Eventually, you pulled back, wiping at your face and apologizing, but she simply shook her head, and didn’t entirely let you go. You ended up sandwiched between Dusk and Crimson, a few final questions answered in that language you didn’t understand, but was apparently referred to as simply ‘Ancient’.

It turns out, the reason Dusk had seemed so unsurprised when your friends explained that usually both siblings were transported, yet they couldn’t find her sister, was because after the gist of the mechanics were explained to her she figured her sister’s soul was... too warped to register, or perhaps too powerful to be dragged against her will out of the timeline.

There wasn’t much you could say to that.

However, quietly, you asked Dusk if... even if her sister wasn’t here, if she wanted to give her a nickname too, to make things... easier?

You weren’t sure if that was the right word, but she, surprisingly, agreed.

Dawn, it was decided.

And, in one of the last phrases she offered that night before going quiet once more, she explained in Ancient to Crimson, while looking down at you and making a gesture, hands folded and fisted, then splaying outwards...

“... her sister’s magic’s overpowered now t’keep her together, threaded through her joints, glowing red visibly at all times, and filling cracks and scars in her bones, and spilling out of her eyesockets. the forest’s overgrown and taller now so even at full height she’s not usually visible... but when she’s near, it’s... it’s like dawn’s risin’, peerin’ through the mist ‘n snow ‘n trees.”

Even Crimson had to take a moment after that, her voice failing her.

Together, the three of you watched through the broad living room windows as the wee hours of the night gave way to the wee hours of the morning, and the morning sun began to paint the horizon in warm, brilliant colors.