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Since the first time Ink found his way out into Multiverse, the more time he spent there, getting to know every au, every story, every character, Outcode- the more he fell in love with it.
Maybe using 'love' was wrong choice of word, as someone soulless had no ability to love after all, but his need to protect grew. His fierceness to protect them all, his hope to make them all happy and prospering and alive. His feeling of obligation, he would say. He took his job as guardian more seriously with every passing day and with every passing day, he discovered there were more things Ink wanted to keep in good state. More people, he wanted to keep in good state.
Some might've said that he was lying, that there was no way he was doing his job, not with how lax he was being on the 'bad Sanses'. But did those people forget? They were also part of this Multiverse.
They were also monsters he wanted to protect, sometimes even more than other parts of that Multiverse.
It didn't mean that Ink was frivolous with his job, no, definitely not. The less he wanted to hurt them, the harder he needed to work, to protect both sides. It... wasn't always understood, but it was fine, he wasn't doing this for them, after all, but for himself and his self decided occupation.
But as days, years, millennia passed, Ink found that something was changing.
Maybe all the injuries he got in the fights finally culminated or maybe somehow his body wasn't meant to be immortal and he misunderstood everything. Because his chest hurt. His ribs, his spine, everything hurt and the pain only grew.
At first it was unnoticeable, just a small tug here or there when he moved wrong. Then, constant feeling of pain, not strong, but just enough to be uncomfortable and then... and then it was more than uncomfortable.
His chest couldn't rise properly and his breaths were coming out stilted and always, always, he was just short of breath. Something kept scratching at his throat until he coughed and once he did, he couldn't stop. It was like something tried to get out, and all he would have to do is tug-
So he did. Tugged it.
He reached his hand down his mouth and searched around for something, anything that could've been causing it. He found something, just a little, small thing he almost couldn't grab, but once he did, he tugged. And instantly stopped.
He quickly took his hand out before coughing fit came. So he was right. There was something there. And once he got rid of it, he would probably be fine again.
So he reached, grabbed it and tugged. And tugged. And tugged.
It was stubborn and he could swear he could feel it moving down in his chest, but even the notion was silly. It took more times than he'd like, but in the end, something let go and he was pulling it out.
There, on his hands was a flower.
It was a whole flower, petals, leaves, stalk and roots- all of it. It was pretty, Ink thought, even if it was covered in his black magic. He was kind of curious where his magic appeared from, he wasn't exactly injured, was he?
Well, it didn't matter, so he took closer look at the flower and once he did, he couldn't take his eyes off of it. It wasn't anything special, not really and it was the farthest thing from the most beautiful things Ink had seen in his travels, but... there was something... It felt important. In fact, it felt so important, that even the notion of leaving it somewhere alone, was unbearable.
So Ink placed it by his paints, close to his body and in such a way to be completely unnoticeable. He wasn't ashamed of it or anything like that, but it still...felt private. Not something he'd like for everyone to see.
And so, with the source of the scratch gone, he stopped coughing and Dream who was starting getting anxious, noticeably calmed down.
However, it wasn't for long, as Ink got to know. One day, the scratch was back again and Ink fell to his knees under the strength of his coughing fit. Few petals even came out on it's own. So he did, what he did earlier, he tugged.
It was as unpleasant as the first time and just as painful. He didn't really care for it, pain was something that would pass.
There was more of them once he got them out. He cut his fingers on surprisingly sharp petals they had. Once again, he hid them next to his paints and went on.
The next time scratch came, Ink didn't instantly reach for his mouth.
Instead, curious, he painted himself big mirror and slowly took off his upper clothes. Absentmindedly he wondered, what colour did his eyelights have, as he saw his reflection. In theory, he was easily able to check, rise them up to look at his face in the mirror, but in reality, he couldn't, too mesmerized by the view.
His chest, that he remembered being covered in black symbols and patterns, was almost impossible to see. The flowers, of different colours and shapes were growing out of it, tangled all together. They were peeking through the spaces in between his ribs and climbing up his spine, not leaving a centimeter of original bone in sight. He was sure that the empty space inside of his chest, was also stuffed full with them. True miracle, no one ever saw them peeking out of his shirt.
It was pretty, to Ink's eyelights - he even preferred it this way. There was... something artistic to it, charming, in it's own, strange, way.
But the thought came to his mind. What if this was the reason he couldn't move as well as he did in the past? The reason why he wasn't in his top form and wasn't able to do his job better? It was terrible possibility and even if he hated the thought of getting rid of those flowers, he knew he had to.
So he sat down and started his task.
It was bad, worse than tugging the flowers from the upper part of his body was. As he tried to untangle the flowers from his sternum, he felt them pull at his vertebrae, painfully dragging it's stalks through the gaps in his bones, gripping tightly, not wanting to let go. Against himself, Ink gasped.
He tried then, to get rid of the flowers growing out from underneath his ribs and he felt as they only tightened more, with seemingly a mind of it's own. Ink couldn't move, completely paralyzed with pain.
No matter what he tried, it hurt. It hurt like nothing he ever felt before. It hurt more than Error ripping off his leg, more than his arms after sudden creation spree and more than recreating his limbs did.
It was as if the flowers fused with his bones and trying to part them, hurt in every part of his being, in a way he never thought possible. He whimpered as one, not careful enough pull, left him shaking on the ground.
He will need to do it quickly, brutally. Otherwise they won't part from his bones, he realized.
Ink took deep breath and yanked.
It left him wheezing, laying on his side as his vision got blurry and his magic slowly dripped down his cheekbones.
But, it worked.
There, in his hand was a pile of flowers the stalks and roots covered in his magic.
He flinched as he got cut by them, every part of their beings so strangely sharp. He wondered, what it meant for the rest of his body that was completely surrounded by them. He continued.
It was painful and slow, but effective.
Even when he didn't see any changes, in places of flowers already ripped off, sprang up other ones, he could feel something was different.
The space in his chest wasn't feeling as stuffy anymore.
So he continued what he was doing, taking breaks after every new pile of flowers, that found it's way to the floor.
It was unpleasant and he wanted to hate those flowers, what they were making him do, but one look at them and he couldn't help but want to gather them closer to himself, put them into his chest again, even if it hurt. But Ink knew he couldn't, with every flower less he could feel his body growing lighter and he was sure, that once he ended his task, he will be in his top form, ready to do his work well.
He felt, as if he was falling apart, ripped to shreds, together with those innocent looking flowers. It was as if his whole being was slowly dying, burning up in flames, as every movement sent agonizing shivers throughout his body.
The longer it went, the more painful it was becoming. He wanted to stop, to plead and beg for someone to help him, to make it end. He wanted to scream and cry and just curl up and forget about it all, but he only gritted his teeth harder and did what he had to.
It took...a lot, looooot of time, for Ink to finish and once he did, he was just lying, almost drowning in flowers he ripped from his body and in pool of black magic that sipped through cuts on his bones.
It was strange to see his body again, but at least he got answer to question he wondered about earlier.
The flowers really were fused with his bones and every part of them felt like their extension, leaving behind gaps in his bones that shouldn't ever be there.
It will heal, Ink knew, but it still hurt so badly, his body not feeling like his, trembling from the exertion.
Once he gathered his strength, he sat up and looked around.
The flowers were all around, covering the whole space around him and aside from the burning pain in his ribs and spine, he finally could breathe again. He never noticed, how bad it was until then. He never knew what he lost.
But even then, Ink didn't want to leave those flowers behind.
They were his. His magic, his bone and marrow. But there were also too many of them to just put them beside his paints.
Ink decided to make a space, just for them, inside his Doodle Sphere. He made a whole new building, hidden behind beautiful landscapes.
He carefully gathered them all, not caring for new cuts they were leaving on his body and one pile after the other, found it's place in their new home.
After this, Ink fell asleep.
When he opened his eyesockets again, a few weeks passed already and his phone was full of distraught messages from others. He quickly created portal and rushed to reassure them.
They were angry that he disappeared like that, without any word and Ink could only sheepishly apologize and throw himself back into his work, all warm and giddy at seeing those faces again.
He knew he worried them, but seeing them like this, was leaving him feeling tingly all over and he felt smile growing on his skull, even as they were nagging at him.
The first time he fought after getting rid of all the flowers was pretty memorable.
He was suddenly quicker, nimblier and stronger, leaving everyone else and himself, completely shocked.
They wondered how it happened and the only thing he could answer with, was that he rested the last few days.
His work got easier after this. Not easy, never easy in Multiverse full of dangers both from inside of it and outside. Nonetheless, Ink was happier. He saw Dream and Blue, visited Classic, joked with Lust, fought with Error and pranked Nightmare's gang. It was...a good day.
It was just so nice to see them all!
Lately, he had to put on hold those activities, as most of the time, his cough only worried others and it wasn't cool, not to mention, he had to spend so much energy on protecting Multiverse, he had none left for them. The fact that he could meet with them again, was making him really happy!
Something stirred in his chest, but he ignored it.
He went on for weeks, back in his top form, before someone noticed that he was slowing down again. Ink wondered what they meant, before searching his scarf, looking for an answer.
There wasn't one, at least not one he expected. Instead of note, there was a small drawing of a bunch of flowers.
He remembered. All the pain he went through just to get rid of them, coming back to him.
Ink quickly excused himself and standing in front of that mirror from last time, he took off clothes from his body's upper part, just like last time.
There, flowers welcomed him again.
There was fewer number of them than last time, just a few sticking out from his ribcage, nothing near what it was like back then.
He took deep, shaky breath and closed his eyesockets.
He had to do it again didn't he?
He sat down to work.
It was better this time. It took way shorter, and there was less of them so it wasn't as painful. It wasn't painless and once he finished, he fell asleep again, but it also didn't leave him in utter agony. So. Progress!
This time, Ink wrote carefully next to his note about paints, about 'gardening'.
It became his new routine - once he had to drink his paints, he would go take a look at his ribcage, to see, if there appeared anything new he had to take care of.
As days went by, he noticed that sometimes suddenly appeared a lot of them at once and sometimes just a single flower. If he didn't do anything that day, then they wouldn't really grow, but if he run around meeting others, fought or jumped around in Aus, the next time would meet him sight of new bouquet in his ribcage.
Every time, the flowers were as captivating as that first time.
So, in this way, his life went on, new routine slowly settling in place so much, that he didn't need to look at his scarf, to remember about flowers anymore. Of course, he still did, but in theory he didn't have to.
Curiously, he felt as if his memory was getting better, but honestly, it could be just his imagination, he had a big one, after all.
One day, of course something had to change.
Dream and Nightmare had an argument, so the 'war' suddenly got more vicious again, as neither twin wanted to admit it was their fault and apologize. Flowers in his chest grew faster and as Creators were slowly getting bored he did his utmost to keep them interested and keep away all the other deities trying to enter the Multiverse.
He had no time, he needed to keep this place he swore to protect alive, he needed to keep it safe and he needed to make sure no one would die durning one meaningless sibling argument. Ink was running rugged, sometimes forgetting his paints and taking them at the last possible moment and having absolutely no time to sit, luxuriously picking at flowers.
So time passed, flowers grew and Multiverse went on. Siblings stopped arguing with some sappy scene where both forgave each other and Creators got back their Creativity.
It was going well and once he felt like everything would be fine, even if he took his eyelights off of it for even one second, he let himself rest. Or rather, the violent coughing fit finally got him and once he was done, he collapsed, surrounded by flowers that fell from his mouth.
Next time Ink opened his eyes, it was to worried face of Dream, panicking voice and being dragged through the portal to meet Sci.
He tried to tell him that it was nothing, that he was fine, but his voice was raspy and he couldn't force himself to say anything, when Dream glared at him with eyesockets full of unshed magic.
Sci asked what happened and Dream said what he knew. When he finished they both turned to Ink, waiting for his version. Instead, once Ink opened his mouth to speak, came another coughing fit, flowers covered with his magic coming out. Dream quickly found himself by his side, helplessly watching, not knowing what to do to help.
Sci abruptly sucked in his breath.
With fingers tightly griping material of his coat, to hide their shaking, he started talking with grave voice.
"There's no question about it. In all the data, I gathered from every Outcode, and information they brought me, there exists only one illness where the sick is coughing up the flowers. Hanahaki disease."
"Hanahaki disease? So Ink is sick? How can we heal it?" Dream asked immediately, doing his best to keep panic at bay.
Sci was silent.
Dream's voice became hysterical, "Why are you not saying anything?"
"In...all the gathered data, there was no one who found the cure. It's deadly disease," he said and quickly followed it up with, "It doesn't mean that Ink doesn't have a chance. The cause of this disease are big and intense, unrequiered, feelings of love towards someone. If Ink can get that person to like him back, it should disappear by itself. In case of failure there is also... another way," Sci hesitated.
"In some worlds, there exists an operation. It's extremely risky, and the au where the percentage of failure is the lowest, it's still higher than 80 percent and among the 20 that were successful, 95 percent, lost all their memories of target of their feelings and with Ink's memory problems...it might have unpredictable consequences," he said not quite able to hide his shaking voice.
"This operation is also... very, controversial, as it... as it is operation on monster's soul." Dream sucked in breath. That was...
Soul was something almost sacred for monsters. It was private, for a reason, culmination of their whole being. The thought of operating on it, was terrifying.
"But as I said, as long as Ink can get the person he loves to love him back, there would be no reason to worry about it," Sci smiled shakily, not mentioning how low percentage of people who were successful in it was. "For now," he takes calming breath, "Ink, please tell us who you are in love with."
Both of them turned to him, Dream's hopeful gaze making Ink feel sorry about answer he was about to give.
"I don't love anyone," he said.
He saw as something in Dream just- broke and he hated it and-
Ink started coughing again.
Dream hovered helplessly above him.
"Ink," said angrily Sci, "it isn't some joke, it isn't one of your games, this time, you can die!" it was rare to see Sci lose control of his emotions and Ink felt bad that he caused it. But there was only one answer he could give.
"I really don't have anyone I love, though. I can't love anyone," he said, well aware of his condition. To calm them up a little, he continued lightly, "And you don't have to worry, I can just rip them off," he shrugged.
"Rip off- INK," Sci shouted enraged. "You moron! What do you think will happen if you just- try to rip off something that is fused with your soul?!" Dream flinched. It was the first time he ever heard Sci raise his voice.
"But i don't have a soul?" Ink asked innocently, tilting his head.
Everything stopped.
No one said anything, so after a moment he decided to continue. "Anyways, I even did it before and it was fine."
"Ink, you- what-" Dream didn't know what to say.
"Look," he said and took off clothes from upper part of his body, Dream was still too shocked to be embarrassed by it, while Sci just stared into space.
They both came back into it, once Ink's chest came into view. It was... Completely covered by flowers.
It was wrong, Sci thought.
Hanahaki didn't work like that. The only way, one could even see flowers, would be when they were already coughed up or when the sick showed their soul. It couldn't be seen otherwise. He couldn't even judge how bad was Ink's state, since hanahaki, hanahaki couldn't create this.
Sure, Ink said he doesn't have a soul, but it was just another thing artist thought about himself, that didn't make any sense. Every living being had a soul. Every being to live, needed a soul. Floweys and Temmies all around the Multiverse were perfect examples.
He needed more data.
"I will search around for more information, but I think we still should at least try to find out who it is that Ink is in love with, since he isn't going to tell us himself," said Sci, ignoring artist.
Dream followed his lead uncertainly. In contrast to Sci, he believed Ink, but it opened a whole new can of worms he wasn't ready to proces through just yet.
"And how are we going to do this?" he asked. Sci opened one of drawers.
"Well, since Ink's flowers seem to grow out of his ribcage, we will have to put camera there, to observe their growth," he started, searching around in his drawer. Dream startled, "Camera-" "The flowers will grow when he thinks about that person, so there should be sudden influx of them when he meets them. That's why we will also need another camera, observing who he meets with." Dream nodded hesitantly.
Sci took out small device and continued talking.
"Now, I'm going to fasten them here... I'll try to find more information about the disease when you are gone. It will be a little risky, since we don't know how much time Ink has, so the moment he shows any signs of getting worse, bring him back here. Aside from it, Dream, your job will be making sure that Ink meets the most Outcodes it is possible. Try to stay a little farther away from him though, not to disturb data gathering." "You mean-" "You are also a possibility," Sci nodded, ignoring how brightly Dream's skull glowed. He started putting cameras in right places, Ink putting aside plastic duck he took from somewhere, cooperatively standing still.
"Alright, done. Come back the quickest you can. With the way it behaves in Ink's case, I can't judge correctly how much time he has left. We need to be quick."
Dream nodded resolutely and led Ink through the portal, forgetting to say goodbye.
"It doesn't make any sense," Sci groaned, his head hitting table. "Not only, Hanahaki shouldn't behave like that, those flowers of his, bloom with literally everyone. Even more, they bloom when there is no one around and he just works."
Dream was sitting another hour, watching the videos together with Sci. Gathering data for him was pretty tiring and yellow skeleton lost Ink more times than he could count in meantime, but it seemed that his hard work would be useless.
At first, when the two saw video when Ink met up with Error, they thought it was it, they got it! It was both obvious and relieving, they should've expected it though. The sense of victory died as soon as Ink met another one, flowers blooming just as much as they did with Error. And then next one. And next.
"Alright," Sci took shaky breath and pushed himself up. "I guess we should go to Ink now, I am going to take another look at the information about operation."
They went to another room in silence, both lost in their thoughts.
When they opened the door, they almost immediately stopped. Ink was laying on his back and around him, thousands of flowers, in different colours, shades and shapes, but all of them were covered with his black magic.
"Ink!" both of them screamed and frantically run to him.
Damnit! Did they take too long? Was Ink's state this bad? Damnit. Damnit!
Sci's mind was running, they could still save him, there had to be something. The operation! If they could quickly...
"Hm? That's me! But why are you calling me?" Ink smiled, even as they could see magic sweat on his skull. It had to tire him out completely, but at least he was still conscious. Sci didn't know why they never heard when he started coughing, but he knew they had to do something-
"Sci," struggled to say Dream.
"I know, we can still save him, I prepared a room when you were absent we can-"
"Sci," Dream insisted.
"We need to quickly move him to the operation room and-"
"Sci," Dream grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Wha-" Sci rose his eyesockets to look at Dream. Skeleton was stiff and his wide eyesockets were looking at something. He let his gaze follow and sucked in his breath.
The flowers on Ink's chest... The significant amount of those flowers was gone.
...What? What? What the hell, what happened when they were in other room?
Ink followed their gazes and smiled sheepishly. "Ah. Sorry, I'm almost finished."
"Ink, what did you..." Sci tried to ask, but he didn't know how. Didn't know what.
"Earlier," started suddenly Dream. "You said you can just rip them off. Did you...?"
"Well, yeah? It's nothing new," Ink shrugged. "And after I do it, I feel a whole lot better! Though lately I had no time to do it, so quite a number appeared. But I'm almost done!" he chuckled.
Sci could feel his legs loosing strength, so he quickly backed away and sat down heavily on closest chair.
"Hanahaki doesn't work like that," Sci lamented putting his skull into his hands. "This is definitely Hanahaki, but it doesn't work like that."
"I..." Sci gulped, trying to slow down the oncoming mental crisis. "Could I check something?" he asked rising his head. Ink nodded, tilting his skull curiously. "Then please come with me," Sci stood up and wobbled to the door.
"Eh, we are leaving? Then give me a moment!" Ink called out lightly, but it was lacking his usual energy.
Ink created a portal and they watched as he gathered flowers laying around him, into his arms.
"What are you doing?" asked Dream.
"I'm picking up my flowers!" he answered, not answering Dream at all. Dream supposed it was his fault for asking Ink without precising what he meant. Instead of asking again, he decided to help.
Dream bent down and reached for one of flowers laying on the floor, trying to ignore black magic it was drowned in. He hissed, taking back his hand, when it immediately left him with a cut. "Wha-?" Flowers looked so delicate... but they were this sharp? He watched as yellow magic flowed from his cut, before absentmindedly healing it.
Then he realized something. He quickly looked at Ink, gasping when he saw how hurt his arms looked. As artist went, black magic flowing down from them was leaving dark trail on floor behind him. And his ribs didn't look much better, Dream realized with horror. It had to hurt, why Ink was still doing it? Didn't he feel any pain?
The flinch, when Ink bent down again, finally shook Dream out of his stupor. He hastily run to artist and started healing him.
"Ink, why don't you leave them here?" he pleaded. Dream didn't know yet what to think about anything that was going on with Ink right now, but it didn't matter. He was hurt. He hated seeing his friend like this.
"They are mine," Ink only answered, sounding strangely serious. He frowned and Dream knew he wouldn't change his mind.
"They are hurting you, there has to be a different method of moving them," he said, shaking his head.
Ink only shrugged, not letting them go and with arms full of flowers, he stepped through the portal. Dream followed behind him, Sci staying in his place, already lost in his thoughts.
What waited for Dream on the other side, was a huge room, full of shelves and flowers. Not even one was withered and all of them were covered in the black magic he recognised as Ink's. He froze.
This... all of this...?
How long was it going on already? For the flowers to fill so much space and Dream never noticed that there was something wrong with Ink?
He felt guilty. His argument with Nightmare took so much space in his mind lately, that he basically forgot about everything else, too upset not to. Maybe if he just looked around then, would he notice that something was wrong?
Then he recalled as, way, way before the argument, Ink seemed to be constantly coughing. But it was ages ago! It wasn't possible for it to go on for this long, right? Right?
But something inside of him said that it did.
Ink passed by him with another pile of flowers.
"Wait, Ink...!"
And he was quickly back through the portal. Dream followed and grabbed him by his shoulder.
"I will help you alright? Let's just do it a little differently, okay?" Ink shrugged and pointed at the floor.
"I'm almost finished, though." Oh. Was Dream lost in his thoughts for so long? It doesn't usually happen. He pursed his teeth unhappily and insisted, "I will help you."
His help was minimal, since Ink already did most of the job, but they finished it and Dream immediately jumped to Ink, to start healing his injuries.
When Dream finished, Ink stood in place looking puzzled. Ah, he probably forgot what was supposed to happen next.
"Sci, we are ready," Dream called out. Sci blinked. He got too lost in his thoughts.
"Alright, then follow me."
He led three of them down through dark corridors, (using ones that didn't exist in other universes, Sci made sure of that). His head was full of conflicting thoughts, that he tried to silence, at least for now.
Finally, they stood in front of set of two doors. Sci gestured to one of them and said, "Ink, you need to go in there. You may do whatever you want inside, but don't come out until I tell you," then he turned to Dream and nodded at the other set, "We are going in here."
Inside, was a room full of small screens and huge glass wall, through which Dream and Sci could see Ink. Sci was just glad that when he was making that room, he didn't use white.
He immediately walked to one of the screens and started doing something on them, Dream having no idea what.
Dream didn't want to distract him, so he just looked at Ink, who started... decorating the room. He had to admit, he wouldn't be against asking Ink for that octopus plushie, he put in one corner, next to one that looked like gold bird. And for that beanbag. It looked really comfy.
Ink already put on all his clothes and his movements were lighter than he remembered them being lately, but he still seemed to be so tired. It wasn't surprising, when Dream thought about how sharp those flowers were.
He flinched, when he thought how much resolve was needed to rip them off of his own body. When he thought how painful it had to be.
All those thoughts though, were to distract him from the matter at hand. Or matters. First, Ink could possibly die soon, or end up being someone different entirely, after impossibly invasive operation. If that operation would even be needed, if what Ink said was truth. And Dream knew that it was, never once since they met, Ink have lied to him.
What brought him to the second matter - Ink said he was soulless. Soulless. That was...
Going through Multiverse, Dream met a lot of soulless beings, not one pleasant in the slightest. But the thing was... Ink was different from them. Yes, Dream's aura didn't seem to work on him, but he thought... actually, he didn't think about it at all. He wrote it off as just something unique to Ink and that's all. Maybe he should've thought about it though.
He knew, that soulless beings couldn't feel, that they could only pretend. Did it mean that everything was a lie? Their friendship, Ink's hard work to keep Multiverse stable? Did he have some ulterior motive?
But...was it really a lie? Not one Flowey, could ever act, not to this extent.
And what would Dream do then? If Ink really was soulless, how would it change everything? And would it even change anything at all?
Dream recalled one of their conversations, at the beginning, when he couldn't yet control his Positivity, not able to feel anything that wasn't it. Ink helped him then, understanding surprisingly well, what he was talking about.
No, he decided. Even if Ink was soulless, it wasn't a lie. Even if Ink was soulless, it wouldn't change anything. He was still his friend.
Heavy groan behind him, snapped him back into reality. Anxiousness filled him up again.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Ink... Ink is wrong! He just doesn't make any sense! His existence is impossible!" burst out Sci, startling him. The scientist jumped up to his feet and started walking back and forth, gesturing wildly with his hands. "What he has? It definitely is hanahaki! But he indeed doesn't have a soul and no one can really live or feel without one and he definitely does! Not to mention that for someone to catch hanahaki, they have to have a soul! It's impossible otherwise! Because a soulless being can't have hanahaki it's just simply not possible. The flowers? Normally grow in soul. They feed on emotions and particular elements of it and it's just- impossible without one, all gathered data agrees here. Even if he somehow found a way to feel, he still wouldn't be able to catch hanahaki without a soul!" he shouted out, before continuing in lower voice, murmuring something under his breath. At least he stopped walking in circles.
"Sci...?" Dream asked, hesitantly touching his shoulder and the other suddenly dropped, loosing his entire energy. Sci trailed his hand down his face and sighed, sitting down in chair and looking at ceiling.
"Alright. Alright, let's leave freak out for later," he whispered and took deep breath. Dream guessed, that he wasn't supposed to hear it.
Sci looked at Dream, before continuing louder, "Well, at least... It should be fine?" he said uncertainty. "It seems that, somehow, Ink's body became his soul? Not exactly, but he has something that acts like it and i think that if I made a scan, in search of it, then the components making a soul, would be found in bones the closest to place, from which normal soul would come out of? It's the only explanation, why flowers grow out of his chest. But because that... soul, doesn't have a normal form, hanahaki shouldn't be able to kill him. He just needs to... be doing what he did until now," Sci finished hesitantly and hung his head low, before whispering to himself, "Stars, what the hell."
Dream felt as if weight lifted from his own soul. Ink wasn't in danger. He will survive, thank the stars. Ironically, his lack of proper soul saved his life. Dream's friend was safe.
Sci looked as if he was questioning his whole existence and Dream felt a little bad for him, but ecstacy at good news kept his mood light.
However, moment later he frowned worried. Sci said it would be fine, if Ink dealt with it how he did until then, but... the flowers were sharp. Ripping them off- it definitely hurt.
"Is there another way of dealing with it? Even picking up one flower cut me. Ripping them off must be really painful," he said. Sci frowned.
"I could try removing them surgically. I'd need to sedate him, but it would take a lot of time and wouldn't be efficient with small number of them," he tapped his leg with finger, looking thoughtful. "Hm, it still would probably be better to deal with them Ink's way, as long as there isn't too many of them and the moment there is a lot, he should come here." Sci answered.
Dream nodded, not exactly satisfied, but also a little calmer.
The two of them went out and Sci called Ink to them. He quickly told him conclusion he came to and what Ink should do from now on, whenever too many flowers would grow.
"...and what do you think about some experiments? We could gather completely new data and the discoveries why-"
"Thank you, Sci," cut him off Dream. It seemed that, Sci got over his shock and now he wanted to experiment. Sci's experiments... weren't exactly safe and Dream won't let him make his friend into guinea pig. "We will be going now."
"Then does it mean we are finished here?" asked suddenly Ink. Sci reluctantly nodded. Artist beamed at them. "Oh, then goodnight! Don't wake me up for a few weeks!" "Wha...?"
Ink was suddenly falling.
"Ink!" shouted Dream, grabbing him before he could touch the ground.
Ink was sleeping.
Of course.
Few weeks he said? Dream was reminded of that one time, Ink completely disappeared for a few weeks. Was he sleeping back then too? He said he had been resting, so it was very probable. Dream had a feeling, it's going to be just like that one time.
Dream was right. Ink didn't wake up for a few next weeks.
He was starting to get worried, when Ink finally opened his eyesockets. Dream immediately hugged him and then everything went back to normal.
Dream was there when Ink met with others again. They were just as worried as him and he smiled, as he watched how happy Ink looked like, surrounded by his friends.
It felt so strange, that that skeleton was supposedly soulless. He didn't look like that, not when he laughed, as they were telling him to take better care of himself and not when it looked, as if black, happy tears were gathering in his eyesockets.
Dream only watched, he had his turn already. And as he watched, he recalled the time when he, together with Sci, tried to find out who, Ink was in love with so much, that he caught hanahaki disease. He knew, that Sci was still wondering who it was or what else could've caused it, maybe by some mutation, but as Dream observed the way Ink's eyelights lit up, he thought that he knew the answer.
Sci was stuck with the idea of Ink being in love with someone, with one person.
But love, doesn't need to be romantic one, doesn't need to be directed only to single someone.
And it seemed so obvious to Dream now.
Because, maybe it wasn't noted anywhere before, maybe it didn't happen to anyone else before and maybe no one ever did so as much before. What would it say about Ink?
Because, maybe, it was Them.
Maybe, Ink loved them all.
This whole Multiverse, everything inside was precious to him so much, that he was able to get sick with that illness. And there were a lot of people who cursed him, when he didn't try to end 'the villains' once and for all.
But Ink still fought for them. Still protected them. Protected both sides, Dream realized.
If there was anything, that could give Dream a solid proof, that Ink was genuine about their friendship, this was it. He could go to Sci, share with him this theory and get an answer.
But that was the thing - he didn't need a proof. His whole soul was screaming at him, that Ink was real, that he cared and that was enough.
Maybe Dream couldn't feel Ink's emotions, but Positive ones were still his forte and he could recognise them, if he saw them. And he could see them.
In Ink's every move.
Every time, he interacted with this Multiverse.
Dream could only wonder, how was he so blind, not to notice it earlier.
At least now he knew and no matter what anyone would say about Ink, Dream would always believe in him.
After all, even if he apparently didn't love him enough to get sick with hanahaki disease, he still loved him plenty.