In The Morning I’ll Be Better (Descendants of the Trio AU)
“It’s fine.”
It’s hard to trust, after The Wormhole.
Hard to trust others when you’ve faced harm and death from them, over and over again, and they have no idea what they’re even capableof doing.
Hard to trust the world around him, when even before he had full-on Multiverse Attacks he would have spells of confusion, of being lost, of thinking he’s meant to be in one universe and not understanding the one he’s actually in.
Hard to trust himself,when he’s not always sure he’s the right him.Sometimes he’s from a universe where everything’s meant to be black-and-white, and the colors hurt his eyes and overwhelm him. Sometimes he’s from a universe where there’s only woods and woods and woods and trees and trees and trees and his only instinct is hunt.Sometimes he’s from a universe where he’s putting up plastic in an apartment while the owners are out grocery shopping, holding a knife with dried blood on it between his teeth as he works.
But those aren’t right. They’re him, but not him.They’re split off, like trying to print something over and over, but the ink cartridge is low or the paper is crooked and the copy isn’t quiteright. Time after time it’s printed, but the copy never matches the original, until they can’t even really be called copiesanymore, they’re something new and different entirely. Just with a few… connective tissues, leftover from the original document.
They aren’t the same thing. But they all came from the original, and there’s some of each not-quite-right copy contained in that first that existed.
And they can come through. Either tearing, ripping,all the wrong universes trying to fit into his, the only part of his universe thin enough to allow it his own mind and body, or they bleed through, ooze into his life in little ways that don’t sink in until he realizes that doesn’t quite fit.
“It’s fine. I can handle it.”
But there’s a constant. An unmovable, unwavering constant that he can always rely on. The Captain. Always the same, no matter the universe, always the same. And they can take his hand, or grab him by the shoulder, and help ease him back to where he’s meant to be.
The really bad attacks didn’t happen when he had them. Only the confused moments, the mornings where he woke up in what felt like the wrong bed, or the middle of the day when suddenly he couldn’t remember how to navigate the colony. And they’d be there, easing him back to the universe he belonged in.
He doesn’t have them now.
“I’ll be fine, don’t- don’t touch me.”
Because his asshole uncle, or whatever the fuck that Actorcounts as in this fucked-up family tree he’s found himself throw into, took them. He took The Captain, and Space tried.God, the tried to save them, but that awful place, that awful room,it ate away at him, dug into the deepest parts of his mind and pulled up something he’d rather had stayed down, and then it had started, the ripping,the other universes collidinginside of him-
And then he’d been running, leaving, escaping, without them. They’d been left behind, trapped behind some shattered mirror with that demon-
And he’d gotten stuck in a strange mansion in the past- his past, but someone else’s future, if that even matters now, it’s sometime in the 2st century at least- with a bunch of strangers.
A thing calling itself ‘Dark’ that’s apparently his actual biological father, the reason the multiverse attacks even afflict him, the problem inside his veins. An even stranger man who values death even less than Space and The Captain did at the height of their wormhole shenanigans. A former prisoner and son of that death-oblivious man, and the three sons of the asshole who stole his Captain.
All three of whom seem to have no fonder feelings for Actor than Space himself does.
But how can he be sure that’s real?
He doesn’t have The Captain anymore. He doesn’t have his rock, his Constant, his tie to his own reality, not one some fractured piece of him is living in.
“It’s fine. In the morning I’ll be better, okay? Back off.”
It’s not easy, recovering from the multiverse attacks. It doesn’t just confuse, it hurts.It’s a strain on his body as much as his mind now. It’s like that old, old book he read once in history class, what was the quote? Thin, like butter scrapped over too much bread?
He can usually feel one coming on. Until he can’t.
“Oh, shit. Is he okay?”
“He’s just… sitting there.”
“Guys, move- oh, god, I don’t think he’s conscious.”
“You’re not a doctor. You’re a dater.”
“Yeah, well, you look at his eyes and tell me he knows what’s going on right now.”
“But he’s told us he’s- … Fuck… … Illinois, help me lift him.”
“You don’t even like this guy.”
“I’m not going to leave him here drooling and half-dead, though.”
“I thought youse was all about leavin’ people behind.”
“What, did they bitch to you about that? You’re a prison therapist?”
“Hey, maybe we can do this afterwe get him to a bed?”
“Right, right.”
He’s vaguely aware of his feet dragging along the floor as he’s carried between two of the others. Where’s he being carried off too? It’s never good, being carried is never good, is he going into ADS again? Cryo? The alien fighting pits?
“I’ll go get Dark.”
“Don’t shoot him.”
“Ha-ha, Illy. My dateshot him, so suck on that.”
“Okay, uh… what do we do now?”
“He feels kinda hot. I’ll grabs 'im a towel?”
“As good idea as any, I guess. I’ll unzip his suit? Yeah, I’ll unzip his suit. Illinois, do you know anything about how heartrates are supposed to be?”
“Not a thing.”
“Maybe don’t say that with the same tone as you’d use bragging about your muscles, m'kay? Great.Just uh… I don’t know. I don’t know!”
“I’ve dealt with fevers before, though. Very common, on jungle, and… desert, adventures. His eyes are ah, still open, too. So eye drops, probably.”
“Oh, I’ve got some of those right here! Y/N said there’d be no need foreye drops on a heist,but I said you never know when you might need them, especially when you wear contacts-”
Oh, his eyes feel better. Less sore. Is that good? He’s still not sure where he is. His body feels like lead. Like a corpse. He knows all too well what it feels like to be a corpse. Did he die again? Why hasn’t he woken up yet then?
Oh, his head hurts… thinkinghurts… why’re his thoughts so loud…
“I’s got some cool water and a cloth thing, lemme at 'is forehead. I’ll cool that fucker right down.”
“Um… it’s not a fight?”
“Whadda youse think bein’ sick is?It’s a fight in your body!”
“… He’s not wrong.”
“Shut up, Mr. Collects Cursed Idols.”
“And you’re any better.”
“I didn’t know the box was cursed before taking it! Doesn’t count!”
“Ahem.”
“AH!”
“Out of the way, Heist. You found him in the hallway?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Unresponsive.”
“Thank you for letting me know, Date. Again. Space? Mark? Can you hear me?”
Guh… that ringing… … It’s… almost comforting, actually. In a weird way.
“Let me have the cloth, Yancy. You can all go. It’s best not to crowd him.”
“Okay, Mr. Dark, uh, sir, um-”
“Just go.”
“Yeah, leaving.”
“… You’re lucky they found you. This looks like your worst attack yet. … I understand why you don’t trust any of us. I wouldn’t either. I suppose I passed that down, maybe. … But learn from me. Trying to handle things all on your own… isn’t worth the costs. Even if you think it’s for the best, things… slip out of control.”
It’s hard to trust, after The Wormhole.
But when he wakes up with less of a headache than he’s had after his other attacks, and his eyes not burning and cry and crusty, and his body with minimal ache…
I asked for some suggestions on DA for some smaller projects that I could finish in one sitting. Someone suggested Anti and Darkiplier, and I figured the time of year was perfect for that. This took about half an hour, I might do Anti as well in the next couple of days.
Yay, it’s finished! :D I made Anti’s speech bubble cleaner, I hope people with dyslexia can read it easier. Recommended music for this page: The Score - Stronger
And asked a very simple question on exactly who was this extra Wilford appearing behind Abe here. Literally no one had an explanation for it, I didn’t have an explanation for it either and we all just kinda settle with the knowledge that nothing about Will ever makes any sense and or some of just just settled with the idea that he can just teleport but NOW with ISWM literally four years later we actually have the context to it.
Four years later and we finally know that this extra Wilford isn’t just there because Will just doesn’t make any sense, he’s not there because Wilford can teleport, or that he’s a time traveler, he’s there because Will can create wormholes and he’s just hopping to the past and futures because, well why not?
It’s what I find so amazing about this detail is that Wilford MOTHERLOVING Warfstache came about four years ago and none of us could explain this small little scene. No one would come up with a rational explanation for this random second Warfstache but to know Mark added that scene because he had all that planned and figured out four years in the making is incredible.
![oldkamelle:[source]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a1f60ec709a90d89180fc30826240785/96ce7d6e8307d209-dd/s1280x1920/81cd994d96fecd73cbecbb4ceefe6b4f1c023f41.png "oldkamelle:[source]")
![oldkamelle:[source]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3d95bf6883be1df0da6e1df16edafc56/96ce7d6e8307d209-3a/s1280x1920/0424aa49bb7ec960275542bdfe67c649915ac9d4.png "oldkamelle:[source]")
