Chapter Text
The projector room was cold and empty. Dandy couldn’t remember why, but the lights were dim, as if about to die out, and he was standing with his back to the projector, letting its whirs and clicks fill his mind with a gentle hum. He stood stiffly, jaw clenched at the faux-wood tile floor, until a voice that made his heart drop to the bottom of his chest snapped him sharply to attention.
“Dandy?”
Dandy spun around quicker than he could keep his balance, nearly stumbling into the beanbag behind him as he came face-to-face with Gardenveiw’s youngest founder.
Delilah was unfazed by the toon’s horror, smiling slightly and crouching beside him as she outstretched her arm. The bubbles within the capsule in her hand rose lazily to the top off the thick, swirling ichor as she tipped the container towards Dandy. “Aren’t you ready? We’re almost there, I promise. Just a few more...”
Dandy backed away. He felt his mouth move more on instinct than will, forming words so familiar yet so meaningless when spoken in his voice that he felt almost as if he’d said nothing at all. “No… I don’t want to.” He wished there were somewhere to hide.
Delilah tilted her head playfully to the side, as if about to pick the brain of a child. “Mm, but then what would I do without you? Dandy, the star of the show.”
The shopkeeper tried at a weak shove of the capsule to distance any part of it from himself, but discovered, to his revulsion, that both of his hands were already coated in thick, violet-sparkling ichor that clung to his skin like a leech.
“The head of the Ichor Operation,” the human went on.
The black substance was spreading, now, creeping up his arms and relentlessly towards the center of his chest. Suddenly Dandy was hyperventilating. He frantically shook his arms, but the ichor stuck only tighter. He watched as his ooze-swallowed hands grew impossibly larger, molding into clawed, black masses that not even he could recognize. The sound of the ichor pounding in Dandy’s head drowned out the last of Delilah’s grand-spoken monologue, but he had heard the same speech enough times to know the last line by heart:
“It’s all his fault.”
For the third time in the past week, Dandy awoke half drenched in sweat and clawing at every inch of his upper body to rid himself of layers of imaginary ichor. He sat abruptly upright, trying to eliminate any possibility of falling back asleep, and held both of his hands shakily to his chest. They were small again and perfectly pale green, not a drop or stain of ichor in sight. His nails were short and dull. Dandy shivered and hugged himself tightly, running his hands through the short fur along his shoulders. She’s gone… she’s gone now, Dandy reminded himself silently, You’re freaking out over nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. It hadn’t been nothing since the start of the operation, before Dandy knew what Delilah was really trying to achieve and what the fate of the toons he’d known all his life would become.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d properly slept. Despite being far too exhausted to cry, especially over something so tame compared to what the toon had seen, Dandy felt his chest shake as he breathed in, and knew his eyes being wet wasn’t any sort of coincidence. He was sat on the edge of the bed, picking at the fading sleeve of his oversized “Gardenview: Educational Center and Museum” tee and trying to calm down enough to convince himself to suffer though another hour of sleep when a light knock at the door startled him back to attention.
The flower was immediately on edge; it was around midnight, at the very earliest, and, even if it wasn’t, not a soul he could think of would visit him by will. Regardless, he straightened up, pushing aside the fluff that had fallen into his eyes and wishing his clothes could pass as a slight bit more formal. The show must go on, He thought to himself sarcastically. The other toons were panicked enough at the discovery of the twisteds in the museum already; seeing Dandy, the star himself, in such a state was the last thing any of them needed.
“Come in!” Dandy did what he could to sound at least somewhat cheerful to mask the shakiness of his voice.
From the crack of the door, a two-toned face of black and celestial blue peeked in, and both the normal and the four-pointed star of the toon’s eyes seemed to soften as they found their way to Dandy.
Dandy nearly let out a sigh of relief. All of the mains seemed to understand that Dandy knew more than he let on, but, aside from Pebble, Astro was the only one who treated him just like anybody else. Their friendship (or what Dandy wished he could count as a friendship) had been obviously strained after the toon handlers left and twisteds became an issue, but, if Dandy was honest, he appreciated even smallest of chats about previous episodes or whatever Astro had brought to show him. He smiled wearily but genuinely at the toon in the doorway.
“Astro!” Dandy said, bouncing up to his feet, “What brings you up so late?”
The toon in the doorway didn’t often smile, or ever seem any more pleased than calm, as a matter of fact, but Astro’s expression now was so clearly distressed that it was impossible to mistake for neutral. “I’d ask you the same if that wasn’t why I’m here,” he replied, stepping fully into the room and letting the door snick shut behind him.
The meaning of the moon’s words didn’t register in Dandy’s brain, and he continued rambling on in an attempt to distract from the clear panic remaining on his face.
“Did you need something to help you sleep? I have some stealth and stamina candies here somewhere, but I’m not sure how well that’d work…”
“Dandy…”
“I have some tapes that could work, too… Did you need a specific episode?”
“Dandy—”
“Or did you need heals? Though it’s rather late to go on a run… Maybe I should find Pebble to go along with you—”
“DANDICUS!”
Astro regained Dandy’s attention with his magic, separating him from the box he was hurriedly rifling through by his wrists. Dandy yanked himself away from the touch of the small blue stars in surprise, and Astro didn’t stop him, allowing the magic to dissipate into the air. When the star-eyed toon spoke again his tone was gentle once more.
“None of that is what I’m here for, Dandy. I…” He swayed on his feet, as if still deciding whether he should speak his next words or not. “…I know about the nightmares.”
Dandy froze and stood so still he might as well have been a statue. How… how could I possibly have been this stupid, he thought. It should have been obvious to him that Astro, the toon who oversaw the rest and dreams of every toon in the once-museum, would also see Dandy’s reoccurring nightmare that gave away far too much information and horror for even Astro to have to or be able to deal with. He didn’t have either the emotional or physical strength to do anything else in the moment, so he defeatedly hung his head and finally dropped the cheerful tone.
“I’m sorry,” Dandy said quietly at first, guilt and fatigue pooling at the edges of his voice, “I know I should have told you about what you saw… about everything, I just didn’t know if… and i-it’s all my fault…” The toon wrapped his arms back around himself, still staring shakily at the ground, and quietly laughed humorlessly, almost hysterically, at his own misfortune. “I understand if you hate me now… if you’re here to yell at me… I don’t blame you, really.” Dandy didn’t look up, preparing for the worst, but nothing ever came.
“Oh, Dandy…” Astro said instead, and set aside the blanket wrapped around him to hug the flower tightly to his chest, “That’s not why I’m here either, you idiot.” He used one hand to push back up the petals drooping in front of the other toon’s face and waited until Dandy’s eyes met his. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sure you don’t want me in your head, and I’m sorry if I crossed a line, of any sort, I just didn’t want to leave you alone… Dandy?”
Oh. Astro didn’t hate him. He didn’t want him dead. He didn’t see Dandy as the ichor-eaten monster he had become in his dream. He didn’t even seem scared, as far as Dandy could tell, and seemed more primarily occupied with Dandy’s well-being. Dandy had never, up until that point, been asked if he was alright or even been touched gently in his life and couldn’t help but lean into the unfamiliar warmth.
“You really don’t care?” Dandy asked hopefully. He kept his voice at a small whisper, careful not to give the other toon any reason to pull away.
Astro sighed and rested his head gently atop Dandy’s, making his red and orange petals flop against his left temple and giving him a half-dizzy feeling he couldn’t quite explain. “Of course I care, Dandicus,” he said slowly, and then quickly continued on before Dandy had time to misunderstand him, “But you’re more important that whatever really happened with Delilah and the Ichor Operation for the time being. Right now, if you’re sure you’re alright, I think it’s about time you get some sleep.”
Dandy was reminded abruptly of Astro’s additional set of arms only after the other man drew away to replace the violet star-embroidered blanket around his shoulders and over his clothes. Dandy had always known they were there, for he had seen Arthur and Delilah’s designs for many of the toons, but he had never seen them in person. He wondered, with a start, why the main would allow him, of all people, to be the first to see him as he really was, and over something so small…
“Right. You’re right, sorry,” Dandy said back, realizing Astro was probably waiting to return to sleep as well. He’d checked on Dandy to ensure he was fine, not to carry the weight of Dandy’s issues that he couldn’t solve. The flower toon felt his face flush with embarrassment as he realized just how much he’d revealed, including a humiliating bit of his raw emotions, and instantly fixed himself back into character. “Thank you, for your concern, but I’m doing just fine, really! I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Astro was clearly confused at Dandy’s sudden change in formality and tone, as well as at something else Dandy couldn’t quite depict, but nodded carefully.
“I’ll… I’ll do what I can to help if the nightmares come back, alright?”
“Ah, don’t worry about it! G’night, Mr. Novalite!”
“Good ni—”
Dandy shut the door before Astro could protest, pushing his back to it and sliding to the floor to wait for the sun.