#the prank was not the destruction of rets room

[ask-the-riders]

Making Things Right

Pestilence, being his usual goofy, gremlin self, prepared a prank for (probably) Death or Famine, but instead, Retribution was the one caught in it, and there were consequences.

Who knew a harmless, fun little prank could be so devastatingly triggering?

Damnit.

Damnit.

Damnit all.

Retribution growled loudly in agitation, looking at the broken table that now sat beside his chair. He knew Famine could easily fix it, and if that wasn't doable for whatever reason, it could be replaced. He slowly lifted his gaze, his cyan eye lights panning aroung his dimly lit room.

His desk chair had a large crack running down it's backing, all of the books on his shelf were strewn across the floor, some of his blankets and his curtains were torn, and his wardrobe had been thrown open, everything but the Orb of Darkness now scattered across the room. There was a crack on one of his windows and a decent sized hole in the wall, and he absentmindedly flexed his hand, trying to ignore the stinging, aching pain he felt.

Nearly breaking the clasp on his cloak, he pushed it off of himself, letting it pool on the floor before stepping away from it, pressing his hands over his head and grumbling to himself, "Shut up, shut up, I don't care anymore. Leave me be already!" The voice of a child echoed in his mind; it was laughter, followed by, "Wow, look at him! He's crying already! I didn't think he was even capable of FEELING anything in the first place!"

Retribution lowered himself to his bedroom floor, kneeling as he squeezed his sockets shut, "What part of 'leave me be' don't you understand?!" With his eyes now closed, he could picture everything clearly; a warm breeze, causing a soft fluttering of the leaves on the branch of the tree above him. The bark of its trunk dug into his back through his shirt, and he trembled, his sockets wide as he stared in shock and horror at the book that laid on the grass before him. The pages were viciously shredded and torn apart, the remains scattered and some of the pages already blown away by the wind.

His chest was tight, and he was almost gasping for air. He heard children laughing, shrinking back as one approached him and proudly stated, "Geez, no wonder nobody likes you. You're such a freak, Nightmare. Even if you were half as good as Dream, no one would like you!" There was a crack and he cried out, his hands flying up to touch his cheekbone.

The kid who'd approached him shamelessly held up a rock, a malicious grin on their face, "Y'know... the bible talks about bad people being stoned to death. And you're bad. You're evil, actually. Maybe you deserve to be stoned to death." Purple tears began dripping down his cheekbones and he trembled, his voice weak, "Please leave me alone... I won't tell anyone what happened, just go away already."

He was struck a second time, screaming as he pressed his hands over his damaged eye socket, his eye light having vanished and leaving the space empty. He sobbed harder in pain, all while the children continued to make a spectacle of him, and he hated it.

He hated it so very much.

When he killed the townspeople, he felt no remorse, only believing that they finally got what they deserved.

Opening his eyes as he felt a slight squeezing sensation around himself, he tensed. His ghostly tendrils had manifested, and they'd each coiled around him, as if mimicking a hug. Knowing what they were doing, his eyes began to sting and he cursed under his breath. As the first cyan tinted tear rolled down his face, a single tentacle released him, lifting itself to wipe away the tear.

This unusually soft action broke him, and he began to silently sob, attempting to cover his face with his hands and muffle his voice. Death and Famine were out for the day, and Conquest was off tending to her son. That only left Pestilence and War for him to deal with, and while he desperately hoped they wouldn't hear him, he tried to lie to himself, telling himself that even if they heard him, they wouldn't be foolish enough to come into his room without knocking.

They wouldn't come check on him when they were much more content making out in whatever room they pleased. As long as they were together, they didn't care about anyone else.

They wouldn't come check on him when they didn't care.

The rider, through his tears and flickering vision, turned his head, directing his attention to the flag that hung above his fireplace, and he sniffled, frowning deeply; oh, what he wouldn't give to have his dear brother back. Dream knew how to fix everything, and Dream made everything ok. Retribution's soul ached and he couldn't help the faint whimper that escaped him; he wanted Dream right now. Not some reincarnation of him. Not Conquest. Dream. He wanted Dream.

He felt the orb in his wardobe give off a pulse of magic and he drew in a shaky breath, feeling someone's phantom touch ghost along his cheek, followed by the softest of kisses on his forehead. God, he missed Lenore too.

Damnit all.

Damnit all to hell.

His entire body shook as he saw one of the children from his horrid memories before him, pointing and laughing as he sobbed, "You're supposed to be a guardian? That's funny! As if the universe would want a crybaby like you looking after anything!" They began approaching him, he scooted backward, crying softly as he felt his back press against some hard surface, likely a wall or the side of his bed. Maybe his desk or bookshelf, even. He wasn't paying attention.

As the child continued stalking toward him radiating dangerous intent, Retribution sobbed, holding his hands up to shield himself as he pleaded, "Stop it! Please don't hurt me again! Please, I'm begging you, it hurts!" He squeezed his sockets shut again out of fear, visibly trembling as he felt his tendrils fully recoil and vanish, leaving him more vulnerable than before. He felt someone's arms encircle him, one of their hands gently stroking the top of his skull in a comforting manner, and he flinched at the unexpected contact.

He hesitantly cracked his eyes open, a wave of embarrassment and shame washing over him when he saw the familiar black and white fabric of War's scarf, still wrapped loosely around her neck. She gently shushed him, continuing to stroke his head, and he very slowly raised a shaky hand to grip her sleeve. She paused, and he could feel the deep concern and sadness radiating from her. She was actually... genuinely worried about him.

She murmured a soft apology and began to withdraw, but he shook his head, not meeting her gaze as he brokenly begged, "No, please... You can't leave me alone, too..." He hated every moment of this; begging wasn't something he liked doing. If he had to pick a word to describe how he felt about having to beg, he'd say he absolutely despised it.

War let out a soft sigh, her arms once again wrapping around him. He continued to tremble, his fingers twitching as he clung to her, still feeling ashamed of himself. The female rider began to send pulses of soothing magic to him and he drew in a shaky breath, quietly asking why she'd come into his room.

Her voice was soft as she mumbled, gently resting her head atop his, "You called for me, Boss... No matter where we are, I'll be there to follow your calling." Retribution let out a deep sigh, "You don't have to keep calling me that, you know. I'm not your boss. Just call me by my name." Her answer was a few seconds delayed, and Ret blinked as he felt her confusion and uncertainty. Pulling back away from her, he cupped her face, tilting her head down so he could see her eyes, and she furrowed her brow bones, her confusion painfully evident in her voice, "Night...mare?..."

Sure enough, his mark was activated, glowing brightly over top of her normally solid white right eye light. Hearing her say his old name, he flinched, his sockets momentarily widening as he felt his anxiety spike. Attepting to speak past it, he cleared his throat, his voice strained, "No... Not Nightmare. Retribution. Retribution is my name. You know this, War. What's going on with you all of a sudden?"

The female rider blinked and tilted her head, still appearing dazed and confused. He waved her off, now more preoccupied with trying to pull himself back together as he felt a lump in his throat again. There was a soft squeak, and Retribution's cyan eye lights were quick to locate its source; seeing a rather large brown rat peeking at him from beneath his bed, he couldn't help but stare.

He wasn't sure how to feel all of a sudden. Rats were filthy creatures that only served to spread disease, and he wasn't fond of them in the slightest. The one he was currently looking at was easily as big as a typical house cat, and that sent another pang of anxiety straight to his soul. It took a few slow steps closer, squeaking at him again at peering at him through its dark, beady eyes.

The worry that the creature gave off was almost reassuring though; in a way, that meant it wasn't here to cause trouble, at the very least. It padded even closer, stopping only a foot or so away. Retribution took a deep breath, very reluctantly offering the animal a hand to sniff. As it registered his scent and fully recognized him, it pressed its head into his hand and proceeded to lay down, its tail curling around its body.

And then its ever-delightful owner (of sorts) appeared in his doorway, pushing the door open without even a single knock. He lacked the decency, so his intrusion wasn't all that surprising. He wore a look of clear confusion, calling out to the oversized rodent, "Rem... Remy, what are you doing in here? I thought I told you to..."

He trailed off, falling silent as he spotted Retribution sitting on his floor while War clung to him. One of his arms was around her, clutching her shirt, while his other was down by his side, his hand frozen in mid stroke as he pet Remy. Strolling further into the room and catching a glimpse of Ret's tear stained face and immediately noticing how tense he seemed, Pestilence sighed softly and tilted his head, his tone just as light hearted as ever, "Alright, edgelord. What's going on now?"

Retribution scoffed and narrowed his sockets, "Do you actually care, or are you just sticking your nose where it doesn't belong again?" Pestilence seemed taken aback, arching a brow bone at the other's tone, "Uhh... Maybe because I actually care? I know I'm not always the most pleasant person, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of being concerned about you, Ret."

Retribution huffed, and as he tried to pull his hand away from the animal at his side, Remy squeaked in protest, his small, almost hand-like front paws reaching out to grab onto one of Ret's fingers. That gesture, paired with the verbal confirmation that Pest cared about him to some degree, and the way War was nearly petting him seemed to break something inside him.

Full of shame and self loathing, he sniffled, glaring weakly up at Pestilence as he began to cry again, "You should know what the problem is! You shouldn't have ever set up that stupid gag! If you just left me alone like I asked, we wouldn't be here right now!" Pestilence was silent for a moment, before a look of realization crossed his face and he winced, his brow bones knit as he frowned, "Oh, that. Shit, sorry Ret. I didn't think it'd do this to you."

The former prince trembled, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed, "That's your problem... You never fucking stop and think about things, do you? The only things that ever occupy your mind would be your disgusting rats, and when the next time you'll get to put your hands on War might be."

Pestilence sucked in a deep breath, trying to stay as relaxed as possible despite Retribution's aura very gradually becoming heavier. As he responded, he spoke slowly, careful of his wording, "Maybe that's what it seems like, and I can't blame you for being under that impression. It's not true though, I swear. There's a lot going on in my head, that you don't know about. A lot of stuff that I don't say anything about because it hurts me when I think about it too much."

The shorter of the two guys chuckled, the sound almost bitter and mocking. He rolled his eye lights, "Oh, like what? The fact that all those years ago, you failed as a doctor and hurt more people than you helped? Or could it be the fact that your perfect soulmate here is the one who aided in the destruction of your AU, leading to the death of your brother?"

Pestilence shifted his gaze to War, who was very slowly beginning to come out of the mental haze that she'd been in. He sighed and looked back to Retribution, "If you think I don't know she was involved in that, you're mistaken. I'm well aware that it was her, Ret. She was younger, in a bad place, and while yeah, it hurts to know that she didn't tell Error off and just walk away, I love her. She's my everything now, so I forgave her. Her past actions do not determine the sort of person she'll become later on."

He paused, offering the other a small smile, "That's what you're supposed to do, when you love someone. You forgive them. You don't have to forget, but you can forgive." Retribution stared at him for a moment, clearly unsure what to say. As Pest began to approach him, the former prince's sockets narrowed in distrust. He watched as the other momentarily paused, removing his sash and placing it on his bed, and soon after, his syringe gun joined it.

Pestilence was entirely disarmed now, which was meant to help Retribution relax a bit. Ret was assuming that much, at least. He wasn't sure what Pest's game was, but he wasn't buying into it for a single second. As War's head finally cleared enough for her to start acting like her normal self again, she realized the position she was in, quickly piecing together what could've happened.

She met Pest's gaze with a questioning one of her her, and he merely shrugged in response before gesturing for her to move closer to him. As she moved, Retribution kept his sockets narrowed, still watching both of them closely. The pair of soulmates lowly mumbled to each other for a moment, before War nodded, smiling softly up at Pestilence. He delicately cupped her face, leaning closer to press his teeth to hers. Her cheekbones dusted a soft shade of blue and she reciprocated, almost appearing disappointed once he pulled away from the exchange.

Of course, Retribution could feel her disappointment. He could also feel her worry, paired with hope. What she was hoping for was beyond him, though. Approaching Retribution again, War knelt, gently scooping up the large rat who'd remained at his side. Standing up again, she cradled the creature in her arms, almost amused as it made a series of sounds at her. She opened a portal back to her room and stepped through with Remy, both of them disappearing.

Almost as soon as the portal closed behind them, Ret's soul was captured by Pest's magic, and he growled in annoyance, "Pestilence, what is the MEANING of this?! Let me go right now, or so help me-" Pestilence calmly tilted his head, sighing softly and cutting him off, "You'll what? Kick my ass? Kill me, maybe?"

The former prince scowled at him, a momentary look of surprise on his face as the other's magic lifted him to his feet. Pest seemed completely at ease, a lot closer now than he was before. Retribution stared up at him, radiating nothing short of hatred, and Pest's brow bones became knit in... was that... regret that Retribution was sensing?

Pestilence took a deep breath, "Listen, Ret... I haven't been too nice to you. On occasion, maybe, but I haven't treated you with the respect that you deserve. And... I'm realizing how uncool that was. Especially today, with how that prank backfired and triggered you." Retribution stared at him, clearly skeptical; where was the punchline? This had to be some sort of cruel joke and nothing more.

.....Right?

Seeing the look on the former prince's face, Pest offered him the smallest of smiles, the grin itself holding a hint of remorse, "Buddy, hear me out. Please. I know you don't trust me, and you likely don't believe a single word I'm saying. You hate me, I get it. After all, I hate me too."

Retribution scoffed, averting his gaze and begrudgingly mumbling just barely loud enough to be heard, "You never apologize for anything. I don't understand why you suddenly felt the need to say sorry." Pestilence rubbed the back of his skull, appearing a bit awkward and much less cocky than normal, "I'm apologizing because I could tell how badly that prank... went wrong. I never meant for it to hurt ya like that, honest to god. If I knew that'd happen, I wouldn't have done it. I was given the run down on your story by Death a while ago, but I was never told the full extent of things, and I didn't think that prank would be something that'd set you off."

He paused, letting out a deep sigh, "From the looks of it... Things were hell for you, back where you came from. I dunno the details, but that's gotta suck, and I'm sorry I haven't been kinder." Retribution, upon hearing the other's words and beginning to make sense of them, frowned, his brow bones knit as his hands curled into fists down by his sides, "...Yeah... That's one way to put it, I guess..."

Pest tilted his head, also frowning at the look the other rider was wearing. Without a hint of mockery anywhere in sight, he spoke, "Do you... maybe wanna talk about it? It might help to get it off your chest, y'know. I'm all ears, in a uh... matter of speaking." Ret rolled his eye lights, "Oh, please. I know you, Pest. You'd just use whatever I say as material to pick on me with in the future." The taller of the two was silent for a moment, before his soul suddenly manifested, floating just outside his chest as he carefully cradled it in his hands.

Ret made a face, confused again, "What are you doing now?" Pest's magic suddenly released him, and he blinked as Pestilence offered the other his soul, "Here. If you don't trust me and think I'm just bs'ing you again, you can look at my soul for confirmation. Souls don't lie, so there's no way I'd be able to pull a fast one on you."

The former prince regarded him with clear suspicion, very cautiously taking his soul into his hands and looking at it for a moment. When it became obvious that Ret had no idea what to say, Pestilence reached out to gently place a hand on his shoulder, "Hey... It's ok, I promise. If you wanna get anything off your chest, I'm here for you. If you'd rather not, that's fine too. No matter what is said or done, I won't go around telling people about it. I wouldn't be a jerk and talk shit or anything about you either, I swear on my life."

The shorter watched Pest's soul, and when there were no telltale signs of deceit, he glanced at the other's hand on his shoulder, his gaze slowly falling to the floor as he mumbled, "I... It was awful. The only reasons I even bothered trying to be good were because I knew Dream would like that, and because I wanted everyone to see that they were wrong about me. That I'm not bad or evil, that I'm not some kind of freak... I'm not any of those things. I was demonized... simply for existing."

His shoulders sank, and he paused, attempting to keep his emotions in check, "They... hurt me really bad. Repeatedly. They said horrible things to me, and if they wanted entertainment, they would come after me, destroying the few things I had and then beating me. Because of them, I was blind in one eye for a while. It gradually healed, but they only used my injury as fuel, saying that I was hideous and deformed, and that it'd be impossible for anyone to even consider liking me while I looked like that. I never did anything to them, so I don't understand why they decided I was the one who had to be singled out like that."

Pestilence unconsciously curled his own hands into fists, beginning to hurt for Retribution. The former prince looked up at him, his eyes wide and holding a desperation that Pest had never seen even the barest hints of before, "It was hell, Pest. Why do you think I do better on my own? Why do you think I try so hard to avoid others? To stay away from them and interact as little as possible? EVERY interaction I can ever remember with anyone aside from Dream and Lenore led to some sort of pain or humiliation. I cannot deal with that anymore. It's shameful and it hurts to have to say it out loud, but interaction with others has caused me so much pain that I hide from it as much as I can."

Pest's frown deepened as a cyan tear rolled down Ret's face and he whispered, "I loved everyone, but everyone hated me... They made me believe I had no hope of ever being loved, and that I wasn't worth it. I don't... I still don't know what I did to deserve such horrid treatment." As more cyan tears began to drip down Retribution's face, Pest's frown shifted into a scowl and he growled softly in irritation, "....That's such bullshit. Complete, utter bullshit. I'm sorry for this sudden change in my demeanour, but I'm mad. I'm pissed. How could anyone let that happen? You were just a kid, you should've been running around, playing games and laughing. You should've been happy and cared for, Ret. You absolutely did not deserve any of that, I swear to god. Don't ever think you did something wrong to deserve that, because you didn't. You didn't do a damn thing to them. They were assholes, plain and simple as that."

Retribution pushed Pest's soul back toward him, returning it to its proper place before he began to tremble, choking back his sobs and trying to hide his face. Pest let out a deep sigh, issuing the other a warning, "Buddy, hey. I know you hate me and all that, but I'm gonna hug you, whether you want me to or not." Ret made a soft sound in weak protest, and Pestilence rolled his eye lights, yanking the other closer and pulling him into a tight hug. Despite the warning, the former prince's eyes widened, and as soon as Pest began using soothing pulses of his magic to try to offer a bit of comfort, Retribution finally cracked.

Tightly hugging Pestilence back, he began to sob much harder, his entire body visibly shaking. Pest stayed quiet, patiently waiting for the other to rid himself of as much of his pain as he could, and Retribution appreciated the silence. For once, he wasn't wishing Pest would leave. As he thought about everything harder and connected the pieces, he murmured, more to himself than the other, "...It's ok now... I finally understand. It's not that you can't deal with interaction and other people. It's that no one took the time to deal with you. At least... not in the way they should've."

As the former prince's sobbing began to die down, Pestilence mumbled softly, not wanting to startle him, "Would you like me to get Fam or Connie?... I know you're a lot closer to them than you are to me, so..." Retribution shook his head, also speaking softly, "No, don't bother them. They're working, and I don't want them to get in trouble." Pestilence nodded in understanding; even if Ret just said no, Pest would most definitely be sending one of them a text or calling them soon.

Pest was silent another moment, before humming, "Actually... I think their shifts are almost over, now that I think about it." The former prince seemed to perk up a small bit and the taller of the two lightly patted his back, before beginning to pull away from the hug to glance around the room, "Only drawback though. While Fam probably wouldn't care, Connie might ask about your room and why it looks like someone let loose a pack of wolves in here. Unless you wanna go through all that pain and yuck again, you might wanna clean it up a little. At the very least, hide the mess somewhere she won't see until you feel more like taking care of it. I'm not much into cleaning, but I'll even help you, if you want."

Retribution made a face, letting out a shaky breath, "Yeah... you're probably right. Where do we even start though? It's a mess." Pest offered him a reassuring smile and winked, "Don't worry so much, first of all. If you wanna get the torn curtains and blankets put away, I can try to find some new curtains so we can hide that busted window, just til we can get you a new one. From there, I can help you with the scattered clothes and books."

Ret made a soft sound of uncertainty and frowned, "That's gonna take a while though... I don't want either of them to see any of this!" Pestilence casually shushed him, placing a finger over the other's teeth to stop him. A rat poked it's head out of his hoodie and he playfully arched a brow bone, tilting his head, "I think you're forgetting that I can provide you with however many tiny helpers you need."

Making another face, Retribution lightly pushed his hand away and sighed, the sound becoming dangerously close to a yawn. The poor guy must've really exhausted himself. Pest's expression softened as he watched the other rider, speaking up again after a few seconds passed, "On second thought, how about you take a nap? If you want any help with cleaning once you're a bit more rested up, let me know." Retribution scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "I don't need sleep, I'm fine. I can do it now, don't worry about me."

Groaning, Pest's magic flared up, and he hummed, "Welp. Looks like we're doing this the hard way then." Before Ret was given the chance to ask what he was doing, he was lifted up off the floor and moved over to his bed. He was dropped on the mattress and Pest began to whistle a tune, gathering up his sash and syringe gun as more of his magic moved to throw the covers over Ret. He watched as Retribution popped his head out from under the blankets and glared weakly, "How dare you! I could've walked just fine on my own!"

The taller chuckled softly, "Yeah, you could've. You didn't though, so therefore, you basically left the job open for me to handle." Ret grumbled to himself, pulling his blankets up and tugging them over his shoulders, attempting to make himself more comfortable. Pestilence said his soft goodbyes and "seeya later", all before using a shortcut and vanishing into thin air. Retribution was left alone, lying in bed and silently wondering what just happened with him and Pest.

Had... Had they just become friends? Did Pest really apologize for being a jerk? Retribution rubbed his achy sockets; whatever this absolute madness was, he'd deal with it later, after his afternoon nap.