#that's the kid that happened because 406 hooked up with Killer a handful of times

[lover-of-skellies]

Mal meets herself

A little drabble I've had sitting in my notepad app for way too long, showing what would happen if Mal met a version of herself that was still very much one of the bad guys

Mal released a startled yelp as blue threads captured her wrists and whipped her aside, sending her crashing into a stone wall. Furrowing her brow bones, she blinked and stared at the threads; these... didn't belong to Error. Traces of his magic lingered in them, sure, but he wasn't the one who'd made them. Her gaze slowly lifted and began to follow the threads back to their source, and her sockets widened in shock and fear.

As a pair of crimson sockets gazed back at her, she let out a shaky breath; there was a deep purple bruise residing on the other skeletons face, her clothes were coated in a thin layer of dust, and her eye lights were blown wide in some sort of sick euphoria; she was gazing up at herself.

The clone stared back at her, evaluating her for a moment before snorting in mock amusement, "The hell is this?... Some kinda joke? There's no way a precious little house pet like you could be another version of me." Mal untangled her wrists and rose to her feet, ignoring the shooting pain in the back of her head, "Yeah?... At least I don't look like some kinda homicidal maniac." One of her duplicates sockets twitched and she grinned widely, "It's cute that you think you can insult me so easily. It'll take a lot more than that to hurt my feelings though, you stupid glitch."

Memories flickered in Mal's mind and her figure glitched, a look of heightened resolve settling on her face as she sighed; she'd really have to play that card here, wouldn't she? Taking a deep breath, she stared directly into her clone's sockets, "Why are you still doing all this? Being the bad guy, I mean. Nothing you could ever do will be enough to make Error happy with you. He'll never care about you. The only person he cares about is himself. Nightmare doesn't give a damn about you either. You're just another pawn. A toy he'll throw away as soon as you stop being useful."

The duplicate was silent, frozen in place for a moment, before her figure began to glitch wildly. Her grin dropped, fading into a scowl as she growled, her voice lower than anticipated, "...You... You BITCH. Don't start acting like you suddenly know everything!" More blue threads were produced, and they shot toward Mal, tearing through the fabric of her clothes and tangling around individual bones. Mal was lifted up off the ground, uncharacteristically calm as she spoke, "He doesn't love you. None of them do. If you give all this up, I'll take you to people who'll actually care for you and protect you, love you as you are... You have an amazing father that thinks about you all the time, who'd do anything for you. You know who I'm talking about, don't you?" The duplicate screamed, a ferocity behind her words that was laced with venom, "SHUT THE HELL UP. YOU'RE JUST SOME WEAK, NEEDY, ATTENTION WHORE. I'M BETTER THAN YOU. ERROR LIKES ME BECAUSE I'M EVERYTHING YOU WEREN'T."

Mal let out a shaky sigh as the blue threads began to tighten around her ribs and pull ever so slightly, "He likes you because you do what he says without hesitation. You follow orders, and you don't ever complain about being nothing more than a servant to him, do you? He only values you because you make his job easier. You're useful, that's all it is. And that bruise on your face... he hit you, didn't he?... That's not what love's supposed to be like."

Stomping one foot defiantly, the duplicate roared, "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP." Mal momentarily closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, a hand flew to her face, touching the edge of her socket and producing her own blue threads. Whipping her hand out toward the other her, the blue threads lashed out, pinning the clone to the wall behind her. As she was released from the threads that had held her, she sent out another wave of her strings, capturing the duplicate's soul and withdrawing it from her chest.

As Mal tugged it closer to herself and cradled it in her hands delicately, frowning as she observed it and noticing how deep each of the visible cracks was, her sockets began to water up at the realization that this could've been her, had she ran back to Error when Necro gave her the option to leave. She could've been so much more damaged, so much more aggressive and unstable, and so much more lost, consumed by denial and uncertainty.

She slowly lifted her gaze, looking to the clone again and speaking up slowly, "Hey... What do they call you, where you're from?" The clone narrowed her sockets at Mal, growling lowly in agitation, "Why do you wanna know? It's none of your goddamn business!" As the clone's figure began to glitch heavily, Mal let out a deep sigh, beginning to approach her duplicate. Watching her closely and hissing as she began fighting against the multitude of threads that held her in place, the captive glitch bared her teeth in hopes of discouraging Mal from getting any closer.

Ignoring the display before her, Mal hummed, very delicately pushing the others soul back into her chest, "...Suboptimal Abomination Number 406. Probably 406 for short, I'm guessing?" The other female skeleton froze, her narrowed sockets suddenly widening. For a fraction of a second, she appeared lost and unsure how to respond, but as soon as her uncertainty had arrived, it was gone, replaced with more irritation and spite, "Yeah? So what? Why's it matter so much to you what my name is? You have the exact same name, so it's not like you're anything special."

Mal shook her head, her expression softening the smallest bit, "You're wrong, actually. My name's different now." Struggling against her restraints again, 406 bitterly hissed, "Good for you. Too bad I don't give a shit though." Mal pressed on, ignoring the clear hostility in her words, "It's Mal now... That's my name. It was given to me by my uncle. I didn't know we were related at the time, and for a while, I took him and everything he did for me for granted." 406 growled again, "Hey, weren't you listening to me?! I just said I don't give a shit, so why the fuck are you still talking?!"

The glitch offered her counterpart a half hearted smile and shrugged, "I figured that maybe, just maybe, you'd like to know that you have a family you could return to. A loving father, two uncles that are pretty cool, and a bunch of others that'd love to call you their friend. For starters, Dream and Ink." Upon hearing the artist's name, 406 froze, her sockets widening. Her eye lights constricted into the smallest of pin pricks, and her body began to glitch wildly as she balled her hands into fists and roared, "LIKE HELL I'D EVER BE FRIENDS WITH THAT ASSHOLE."

Arching a brow bone and tilting her head, Mal hummed, her grin slowly beginning to widen, "Awe, c'mon, what's the matter? He'll only puke on you when you're nice to him the first time. The rest of the time, he's really not that bad." 406's sockets rapidly clouded with errors, and without a warning, she began to thrash and scream, a look of blind rage settling on her face. Mal's smile dropped and she sighed, deadpanning, "...Well so much for being casual and having a sense of humor."

And then the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, accompanied by a second voice caught Mal's attention. It came as a loud, high pitched whine, nearly shrieking, "NOT MY MAMA! PLEASE DON'T HURT MY MAMA!"

Freezing in place as her eye lights quickly located the source of the voice, Mal's sockets widened in shock. Her chest began to feel heavy as she locked eyes with a small child whose body glitched heavily, a black, tar-like substance dripping down their face. A soul that glitched and resembled a bright crimson target floated outside their chest, perfectly centered, and they were clad in a pair of baggy shorts, a tank top, and a jacket much too big for them that had flecks of dust stuck to its fabric. That faded, familiar deep blue fabric, and that fur lined hood. Mal's eye lights constricted in fear as they trailed down from the child's face, noticing the black stain from liquid hate that had been smeared on the front of the jacket they wore.

Looking back to their face and meeting their gaze, only one of their sockets contained a small, white eye light. The way they clung to 406 and tried in vain to free her, wearing a thoroughly terrified expression, sent a pang of guilt straight to Mal's soul. She had no idea what to do now, and it was obvious. She needed to deal with 406, but now there was a kid here... And she couldn't risk scaring the poor thing any further.