WARNING: THIS IS OVER 10,000 WORDS. YES. I KNOW. THATS A SHIT TON OF WORDS. BUT ITS HELLA FLUFFY.

ENJOY :)

Karl Jacobs had always been a dreamer, but that night was different. His dreams usually took him to places long forgotten, to worlds that had once existed or perhaps never had. Time, for him, was something malleable, something that could be played with and shifted at will. And yet, the one thing that always grounded him—whether in dreams or reality—was the presence of one person: Sapnap.

Sapnap wasn't like Karl. He lived in the present. A fighter, bold and brave, he thrived on challenges, facing danger head-on with no hesitation. To him, the world was simple: You fought for the people you loved, and you protected what was yours. But as much as Sapnap was rooted in the present, there was a tether that pulled him toward Karl, something that felt timeless.

That night, Karl sat by the fire at Kinoko Kingdom, gazing at the stars, as if searching for something hidden in the sky. His sketchbook was open on his lap, filled with doodles and notes from his most recent time-traveling adventure. He sighed, a mix of exhaustion and wonder lingering in his breath. Each trip through time drained him a little, left him feeling like he was slowly being spread across centuries. But there was always a sense of comfort knowing that no matter where—or *when*—he went, Sapnap was there to pull him back.

Sapnap arrived quietly, unusual for him. He dropped down next to Karl, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Thinking too hard again, huh?" he teased, leaning over to peek at Karl's sketches.Karl chuckled. "I guess I am. I just... I can't stop wondering about everything. How time works, how the world changes. Sometimes it feels like I'm slipping through it all."

Sapnap shrugged, as if to say that time was a concept he couldn't be bothered with. "You're here right now, though. And that's what matters." His voice was steady, always the anchor Karl needed.

For a while, they sat in silence, the crackling of the fire filling the gaps between them. The air was cool, but Sapnap's warmth beside him made Karl feel safe. And yet, the questions still gnawed at Karl's mind.

"Sap?" Karl began, hesitating. He never knew quite how to voice the strange feelings that came with traveling through time, how to explain the loneliness that sometimes crept in when the worlds blurred together. "Do you ever... worry about what could happen? That maybe one day, I'll get lost? That I won't come back?"

The question hung in the air, a heavy weight between them. Sapnap, ever the protector, tensed slightly but kept his gaze fixed on the fire. "Yeah, I think about it." His voice was quieter than usual, more thoughtful. "But then I remember that no matter where you go, no matter how far or how long you're gone, you always come back to me. So I'm not scared, not really."

Karl turned to look at him, surprised by the raw honesty in Sapnap's words. Sapnap wasn't one to talk about feelings much. He expressed himself through actions—fighting beside Karl, defending him in battles, standing by his side when things got rough. But in that moment, Karl realized just how much Sapnap understood him, even if he didn't say it often.

"I... I'm really glad I have you," Karl whispered, his voice barely above the crackling of the fire. "Sometimes it feels like you're the only thing that's real."

Sapnap shifted closer, their shoulders touching. He didn't say anything for a moment, but the weight of his presence was enough. Then, almost as if he couldn't resist, he added with a smirk, "Well, I am the best part of your life, aren't I?"

Karl laughed, the tension easing from his chest. "Yeah, you really are."They sat together like that for what felt like hours, the stars twinkling above them, the fire burning low. In those moments, Karl wasn't a time traveler. He wasn't someone lost between worlds or centuries. He was just Karl, sitting beside the person who made him feel like he had a home—no matter where or *when* he was.

And that was enough.

But just as Karl was about to speak again, there was a flicker in the corner of his vision—a flash of something familiar yet distant. His heart skipped a beat. Another timeline, another version of reality was calling to him, pulling at the edges of his mind.

Sapnap noticed, his hand tightening slightly on the ground beside him. "Are you going again?"Karl nodded slowly, his chest tightening with guilt. "I think so. I don't know how long I'll be gone this time."

Sapnap's face was calm, though his eyes flickered with something deeper. "You'll come back," he said, not as a question but as a fact.

"I always do," Karl whispered, standing up and giving Sapnap one last look. It was a promise, even if it was unspoken.

And with that, Karl disappeared into the unknown, leaving behind the warmth of the fire and the steady presence of the one person who believed in him more than anyone else.

But no matter where Karl went, no matter how many worlds or times he visited, he knew there was always one constant. In the end, it wasn't the timelines that mattered—it was the moments he shared with Sapnap, the small, quiet seconds between worlds where everything felt real.

And no matter how many times Karl wandered, he would always find his way back home to him.

The fire had nearly burned out, but Sapnap didn't move. He sat there, staring into the glowing embers, watching them slowly fade, just like everything else in his life. Karl was gone again, whisked away by the pull of some other timeline. Sapnap told himself he was used to it by now, but each time it hurt just a little more. Each time, the emptiness in his chest grew a little bigger.He sighed and stretched out his legs, kicking a stray pebble into the ash. The world around him was quiet, the stars above twinkling as if nothing was wrong. But something was wrong—everything was wrong. And he didn't know how to fix it.

Finally, Sapnap stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants. He glanced one last time at the spot where Karl had been, as if hoping that maybe—just maybe—he'd suddenly reappear with that goofy smile of his and some ridiculous story about the places he'd seen. But the space beside the fire remained empty.

With a heavy sigh, Sapnap trudged back toward Kinoko Kingdom, his footsteps slow and heavy on the path. The usually lively, vibrant kingdom felt too quiet tonight, almost ghostly in the moonlight. His thoughts swirled, tangled with frustration and exhaustion. He didn't even notice the beauty of the moonlit trees, the way they swayed gently in the night breeze. All he felt was the dull ache in his chest.

The door to his house creaked open, the sound echoing in the stillness. He kicked off his boots without thinking, his feet dragging across the wooden floor as he made his way upstairs. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. By the time he reached his bedroom, his entire body ached—not from battle, but from a deeper, heavier kind of pain.

He collapsed onto his bed, the cold, lonely sheets offering no comfort. For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a storm inside his head. The room was too quiet. Too still. He reached out to the side, his hand brushing against the empty space where Karl would sometimes sleep when he was actually around. But the bed felt lifeless tonight, just like it had so many nights before.

Karl wasn't the only one who was slipping away. George had grown distant, drifting farther from the trio that had once been inseparable. Dream— Dream was locked up, imprisoned in Pandora's Vault, unreachable, untouchable. And Quackity? Quackity had gone off and started his own country, leaving behind the chaos they'd once shared. One by one, they were all leaving.And Sapnap? Sapnap was still here. Alone.

His fists clenched in the sheets, frustration bubbling up in his chest. He was angry. He was sad. He was so damn lonely. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be together, fighting side by side, protecting each other like they always had. But now, all that remained were fragments—bits of what they used to be.

The memories of their laughter, their adventures, their bond—they were all fading, slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold on. And it hurt. It hurt more than any battle, more than any fight he'd ever been in. Because this was a fight he couldn't win.Sapnap sat up abruptly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Dammit, Karl," he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking. "Why can't you just stay?"

But he knew the answer. Karl had his own battles to fight, battles Sapnap couldn't follow him into. Karl was chasing something bigger, something that took him away more often than not. And as much as Sapnap tried to understand, it didn't make the loneliness any easier to bear.His thoughts turned to George. The quiet, stubborn George who had once been one of his closest friends. Sapnap could barely remember the last time they'd talked, really talked. It felt like they were all walking separate paths now, paths that barely crossed. George wasn't here. He wasn't anywhere—at least not with Sapnap.

And Dream... Sapnap's throat tightened at the thought of him. He hadn't visited the prison in so long. It was too hard, seeing Dream locked up like that. Every time he went, it felt like Dream was slipping farther away, becoming someone Sapnap didn't recognize. And the worst part was that Sapnap didn't know if he wanted to recognize him anymore.

Even Quackity, once their chaotic partner-in-crime, had gone off to do his own thing. Las Nevadas. The name stung. Quackity had chosen his own path, built his own empire, and left behind the bonds they once shared. Sapnap didn't blame him. Not really. But it still felt like betrayal, like another piece of his world was gone.

He leaned back against the headboard, staring at the darkened room. The walls seemed to close in around him, suffocating in their silence. Sapnap had always been surrounded by people, by friends, by family. But now, it was just him. Alone.

A sharp, frustrated breath escaped him, his hands gripping his blanket tightly. Why did it all have to fall apart? Why couldn't they just stay together like they used to? He thought he was strong enough to handle anything, but this... this was different. This wasn't something he could fight. This was loss. And no amount of strength could change that.

"I'm still here," he whispered into the emptiness, his voice barely audible. "But where are you guys?"

His voice cracked at the end, the loneliness sinking in deeper than it had in a long time. He didn't want to feel this way—didn't want to admit that he was struggling. But he was. He was angry, he was sad, and he was so, so lonely. He missed them. He missed *Karl*, even if Karl didn't realize how much his absence hurt. He missed George, even if their conversations had become stilted and awkward. He missed Dream, even if the person Dream had become was someone he didn't understand anymore.

And he missed the way things used to be.

Sapnap squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would block out the pain, the empty ache inside him. He didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know if he even *could* fix it. But more than anything, he just wanted things to go back to the way they were, when he wasn't alone in this cold, lifeless bed. When his friends weren't scattered across different worlds, different timelines, different lives.

But the harsh reality was that they were gone—some farther than others—and all Sapnap could do was wait.

Wait for Karl to come back.

Wait for the pieces to fall back together.

If they ever did.

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Sapnap woke up to the cold, empty side of the bed. His eyes blinked open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the window. He instinctively reached out, his hand landing on nothing but rumpled sheets. He wasn't sure what he had expected—maybe a warm presence, a familiar voice, or even the sound of Karl scribbling in his journal while Sapnap pretended to still be asleep. But there was nothing.

Karl wasn't here. Of course, he wasn't.

A bitter sigh escaped his lips, and Sapnap pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to push the disappointment away. It was stupid, really. He knew Karl was gone, knew that time itself pulled him away more often than not, but waking up without him still hit like a punch to the gut. It didn't make sense. Karl was still his friend, still the person he could trust more than most, but lately, every absence felt like a wound that wouldn't heal. Sapnap missed him—missed him in a way that felt raw and too vulnerable to admit, even to himself. He'd never been the kind of guy to get caught up in his emotions, but this... this was different.

He sat up slowly, staring at the blank walls of his room, the air too still around him. For a long moment, he just sat there, trying to push back the storm of thoughts threatening to spill over. The weight of loneliness pressed against his chest, and it wasn't just about Karl.It was about everyone.

Dream was locked away, possibly forever. Quackity had cut ties with nearly all of them, driven by ambition and revenge. Maybe Dream and Quackity would never come back. And if that was the case, what did Sapnap have left? Karl was always somewhere else, and George... Sapnap couldn't even begin to understand what had happened with George.

They had all drifted so far apart, and it wasn't something Sapnap could fix with brute strength or loyalty.

He dragged himself out of bed, his limbs heavy with the weight of disappointment and regret. Quackity and Dream had been some of his closest allies. He'd fought beside them, built with them, and now? Now they were ghosts. And maybe they always would be. He hated to admit how much it hurt, how much it burned to think about those two in particular. They were supposed to be his brothers in arms. People he could count on, no matter what. But now?They were just gone.

As Sapnap pulled on his boots and stood by the window, his mind wandered back to a different time, one he wasn't particularly proud of. Punz was still somewhere out there, and sure, they had worked together now and then, but even that connection felt distant. Punz was a mercenary, always had been, and no matter how many times Sapnap tried to convince himself that they were still on the same side, he knew that Punz's loyalty wasn't guaranteed.

He swallowed hard, stepping outside into the crisp morning air, hoping it would clear his head. But nothing could shake the memories that clung to him, the ghosts of the past that refused to be forgotten.

He had been close with Tubbo, once. Once upon a time, before the war, before everything went to hell. Tubbo had been bright, full of hope and potential. But Sapnap had been swept up in the chaos, in the drive to win, and he and George had burned down the kid's house. Burned down the dreams of someone who had never really been their enemy. And for what? For power? For survival?

Sapnap tried to push those thoughts aside, tried to forget the look on Tubbo's face when everything had fallen apart, but the memories wouldn't leave him alone.

It felt like everyone he cared about was either gone or slipping through his fingers. Dream was unreachable, Quackity was off chasing his own ambitions, George was drifting farther and farther away, and now Karl...

Karl was here sometimes, but it was the spaces in between that hurt the most.

Sapnap leaned against the wooden railing of his porch, his eyes scanning the peaceful horizon of Kinoko Kingdom. Everything looked calm on the outside—beautiful, even. But inside, it felt like there was a war going on, one he didn't know how to win.

He clenched his fists, trying to shake off the bitterness, but it lingered like a bad taste in his mouth. The worst part wasn't even that Karl was gone. It was the spaces he left behind. The moments when Sapnap was stuck in the present, and all he could think about were the memories without Karl.

The time they had spent apart felt like an eternity, even when it wasn't. Karl's absence was so noticeable that it left a hole, a hollow space that Sapnap couldn't fill. And when he was gone, everything felt wrong. The days felt longer. The nights, colder. And Sapnap hated how much he noticed it. Hated how much he felt it.

It was the little things that got to him—the empty seat next to him at the campfire, the way the kingdom felt too quiet without Karl's laughter. Sapnap remembered the way Karl used to doodle in his sketchbook, or how he'd ramble on about time and stories that Sapnap didn't always understand but still loved to listen to. Now, all of that felt so far away, like a dream he couldn't quite grasp.

He took a deep breath, the crisp air filling his lungs. He needed to be stronger than this. He couldn't let himself get lost in the memories, couldn't let the loneliness win. But the truth was, he was lonely. More than he ever wanted to admit.

It felt like everyone was slipping through his hands, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.He stared out into the distance, the early morning sun casting a soft glow over the landscape. But all Sapnap could feel was the cold, gnawing emptiness inside him. It didn't matter how beautiful Kinoko was, how much life surrounded him—without his friends, it felt hollow.Without Karl, it felt wrong.

And Sapnap hated it. He hated feeling weak, hated feeling like he couldn't just move on. But he couldn't. Not from Karl. Not from any of them.

Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how far they drifted, Sapnap knew one thing: He wasn't ready to let go.

He wasn't ready to say goodbye to the memories. Even if they hurt.

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The next few days dragged on, slower and heavier than Sapnap could have imagined. He had grown used to the loneliness by now, but that didn't make it any easier. No one to laugh with, no one to take those long night walks through Kinoko's winding paths. No one to sit beside at the fire, where the crackle of burning wood had become the only company he had left.

Once, it hadn't been like this. Once, he would have been sitting there with Dream, plotting their next crazy adventure or battle. Or with George, teasing him about something ridiculous while George shot back with sarcasm, both of them grinning the whole time. Or even Quackity, who had been so unpredictable but always full of energy, always pushing him to do more, to be more.

Now, there was no one.

Except Karl.

But even Karl was only around sparingly, slipping in and out of Sapnap's life like a ghost. The gaps between his appearances felt endless, the empty spaces too large to fill. Sapnap tried to ignore it, tried to shove the feelings down, but each night by the fire only reminded him of how alone he was.

Tonight, he sat there again, his knees pulled up to his chest, staring into the flames. The warmth didn't reach him. His mind was a storm, a whirlwind of anger and regret that wouldn't stop spinning no matter how hard he tried to calm himself.

He gritted his teeth, feeling a sudden surge of anger bubble up inside him. Dream. His best friend. Locked up, trapped in that forsaken prison, and Sapnap wasn't even allowed to visit him. All because of Sam.

Sam.

He clenched his fists, the flames dancing in his eyes as his thoughts turned to the Warden. Sam had locked Dream away. Sam had built that prison, had thrown his best friend into it, and now Dream was stuck there, unreachable. Sapnap hadn't even been able to say goodbye properly. And it was all Sam's fault.

The thought hit him like a wave, hot and furious, but as quickly as the anger surged, it faded. His hands unclenched, falling limp against his sides. No. It wasn't Sam's fault. Not really. It was just his job. His obligation. Dream had messed up. Sapnap knew that, even if it hurt to admit. Dream had made choices that led him to that cell.

But none of that changed the fact that Sapnap felt utterly abandoned.

The anger twisted, turned inward, sharp and biting. He wasn't just mad at Sam. He was mad at himself. He had driven Quackity away. He had pushed too hard, fought too many battles. Quackity had been his friend—his brother, even—and Sapnap had messed it all up. Now Quackity was off building Las Nevadas, chasing power and leaving everyone else behind. And Sapnap couldn't shake the feeling that he had been the one to push him to it.

Then there was George. Sapnap had no idea when things had started to break with George, but they had. The once unshakable bond they shared now felt distant, cold. George wasn't around anymore, wasn't someone Sapnap could lean on. He'd messed up. He had failed them all.

His thoughts raced, one regret after another swirling in his mind, the guilt tightening around his chest like a vice. He stared into the fire, feeling that same hollow ache inside him, the one that had been growing since everything started falling apart.

But then, like a flicker of hope, something shifted in the air. A familiar presence. A warmth that wasn't from the fire.

Sapnap's head snapped up, his breath catching in his throat.

Karl.

There he was, standing exactly where he had disappeared days before, like he had never left. Like time had stopped just long enough for him to step back into Sapnap's world, the same goofy grin on his face, his mismatched eyes twinkling in the firelight.

For a moment, Sapnap couldn't move. He couldn't believe it. Karl was back. Here. In front of him. And this time, Sapnap wasn't going to let the moment slip away.

Without thinking, without hesitation, Sapnap bolted up from where he sat and ran to him. His heart pounded in his chest, his feet moving faster than his thoughts could catch up. And then, in one quick motion, he threw his arms around Karl, pulling him into the tightest hug he could muster.

Karl let out a surprised laugh, stumbling back a step but quickly wrapping his arms around Sapnap in return.

"I'm back," Karl said softly, his voice warm and gentle. "I'm here."

Sapnap buried his face in Karl's shoulder, holding on like his life depended on it. He didn't care if he looked desperate or if his grip was too tight. He wasn't letting go this time. Not after everything. Not after all the nights he spent alone, waiting for something—someone—to fill the void.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Sapnap just held on, taking in the familiar scent of Karl's jacket, the feeling of his heartbeat against his own. The ache in his chest slowly began to ease, the storm in his mind quieting for the first time in days.

"I missed you," Sapnap mumbled into Karl's shoulder, his voice rough and low, almost ashamed of how vulnerable he felt saying it out loud.

"I missed you too," Karl whispered back, his arms tightening around him, like he knew exactly how much Sapnap had needed this.

Sapnap pulled back just enough to look at him, his eyes scanning Karl's face, searching for something—some kind of reassurance, some kind of promise that this time, things would be different. He opened his mouth, the words forming before he even realized it.

"Don't go," Sapnap said, his voice raw and full of a desperation he couldn't hide. "Not this time."Karl's expression softened, his eyes filled with something that looked like understanding. He nodded slowly, brushing a strand of hair out of Sapnap's face. "I won't. I promise."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sapnap believed him. He believed that, at least for now, Karl was here. And he wasn't going anywhere.

So Sapnap held him a little tighter, the fire crackling beside them, the quiet night wrapping around them both. And this time, he wasn't going to let go.

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For the first time in days, Sapnap felt like he could breathe again. With Karl there, everything didn't seem so broken. It was as if the pieces of his life, which had scattered so far apart, were slowly beginning to realign, even if only for a moment.

They sat together by the fire for a while, the quiet night around them no longer feeling so suffocating. The flames danced and flickered, casting warm shadows over Karl's face, and Sapnap couldn't help but steal glances at him every few moments, just to make sure he was really there.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long," Karl said quietly, his voice soft but tinged with guilt. He picked up a stick and started poking at the fire, eyes focused on the embers as if they held the answer to some unspoken question. "I know it's hard when I leave. I just... I can't always control it."

Sapnap sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared into the flames. "I know. I don't blame you. It's just..." He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. He didn't want to admit how lost he felt when Karl wasn't around, how the world felt like it was slipping through his fingers. But if there was one person he could be honest with, it was Karl. "It's just hard, you know? It feels like everyone's leaving. Dream, Quackity, George... It's like they're all slipping away, and I'm the only one left."

Karl's hand stilled, the stick he was holding dropping into the fire. He turned to face Sapnap, his mismatched eyes soft but filled with concern. "You're not alone, Sap," he said gently. "I'm still here. Maybe not always physically, but I'm always with you. And as soon as I can, I come back. For you."

The sincerity in Karl's voice sent a warmth through Sapnap's chest, but it also made his heart ache a little. He *knew* Karl meant it. But even with that promise, there were still so many gaps—so much time spent without him, without anyone. It didn't stop the loneliness from creeping in when Karl wasn't there.

"Yeah, but what about the others?" Sapnap muttered, the frustration he'd been trying to hold back finally bubbling to the surface. "Dream's stuck in that prison, and I don't even know if I want him back, not the way he was before. Quackity's off building his empire like none of us even mattered, and George..." He paused, his voice dropping as he stared into the fire. "I don't know what happened with George. I just don't know how we ended up like this."

Karl was quiet for a moment, his gaze flicking to the sky before he leaned back on his hands, staring up at the stars. "I don't know either," he admitted softly. "But people change. They grow in different directions. Sometimes you drift apart, even when you don't mean to."

Sapnap frowned, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "But we were supposed to stick together. We fought for each other. We had each other's backs."

"And maybe we still do, in some way," Karl said, his voice calm but thoughtful. "But we've all been through a lot, Sap. Things happened that none of us were ready for. Dream... he made his choices, and so did Quackity. But that doesn't mean it's your fault."

"I could've done something," Sapnap argued, his jaw tight. "I should've seen it coming with Dream. I should've been there for Quackity when he needed me. And George... I don't know why he's drifting away, but I can't just let it happen."

Karl sat up, turning to face him fully, his expression serious but kind. "Sap, you can't carry all of this on your own. You're not responsible for everything that's happened. Dream made his choices, and Quackity... well, you know how stubborn he is. And George... maybe he's going through his own stuff. Maybe he's just trying to figure things out."

Sapnap's shoulders slumped as the weight of Karl's words settled in. He knew Karl was right, but it didn't make the guilt go away. It didn't make the ache in his chest disappear.

"I just don't want to lose anyone else," Sapnap whispered, his voice barely audible. "I can't lose anyone else."

Karl's hand found his, warm and reassuring, his fingers intertwining with Sapnap's in a gentle squeeze. "You won't," Karl promised softly. "Not me. I'm not going anywhere. Not for good."

The simple gesture, the quiet assurance, was enough to loosen some of the tightness in Sapnap's chest. He squeezed Karl's hand back, grateful for the moment, for the steadiness Karl always brought when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

They stayed like that for a while, sitting in the quiet comfort of each other's presence, until the fire began to die down and the night grew colder.

"You know," Karl said suddenly, breaking the silence, "I was thinking we could rebuild the kingdom a bit. Add some new stuff, maybe liven the place up. It's been too quiet around here."Sapnap raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Karl with a small smirk. "Rebuild? What, you're an architect now?"

Karl grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've got some ideas! It could be fun, you know? We could make this place more like... us. Somewhere that feels like home."

Home.

The word settled in Sapnap's chest, soft and hopeful. Home. That was what he wanted—what he needed. A place that felt like more than just walls and empty rooms. A place where he could be with the people who mattered most.

A place where he could be with Karl.

"Yeah," Sapnap said, his voice lighter than it had been in days. "I like that idea."

Karl beamed, his excitement infectious. "It'll be amazing! We can build whatever we want. And who knows? Maybe we'll even get some visitors."

Sapnap couldn't help but chuckle at Karl's enthusiasm. "Yeah, maybe. As long as you stick around to help."

Karl gave him a playful shove, his smile never fading. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

And this time, as Sapnap looked at him—really looked at him—he believed it. Maybe they couldn't fix everything that had gone wrong. Maybe they couldn't bring back the people who had drifted away. But right now, in this moment, they had each other.

And that was enough.

For now.

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The next morning dawned brighter than usual, a crisp light filtering through the leaves of Kinoko Kingdom. For once, Sapnap woke up feeling hopeful, maybe even a little excited. Last night had been something he hadn't felt in ages—calm, content, like the world was starting to make sense again.

Karl was back. They had plans to rebuild. They had something to look forward to.And for the first time in a long time, Sapnap didn't feel like he was fighting against the universe alone.

After a quick breakfast, Sapnap decided to head to the library. It wasn't something he did often, but if they were serious about rebuilding, it couldn't hurt to pick up some books. Maybe they'd find inspiration, some new ideas for the kingdom. It was also a good excuse to find more stories for Karl—he always loved stories, especially the old, strange ones buried in the back shelves. It was a small way to keep Karl grounded, to show him that this world, their world, had plenty to offer.

With a satisfied hum, Sapnap walked to the library and began browsing the shelves. He grabbed a couple of books on building techniques, a few on fire—just because it felt right—and even a couple on myths and legends, the kinds of stories Karl would get lost in for hours.

As he wandered the aisles, Sapnap found himself smiling more than he had in weeks. Things were looking up. He had Karl back. And though he wasn't sure what the future held, the night before had been a promise of something better.

In total, Sapnap spent no more than twenty minutes at the library. The walk back to his house was quick, and he carried the books in his arms, already thinking about how Karl would react to the new ideas they could work on together. Maybe they'd start building that afternoon, or take another walk through the woods at night like they used to.

But when Sapnap pushed open the door to his house, the smile on his face faltered. The room was empty.

"Karl?" Sapnap called out, setting the books on the table. His voice echoed in the quiet space, but there was no response. He felt a small knot of worry tighten in his stomach, but he forced it down. Maybe Karl was just outside. Or maybe he'd wandered off to explore the kingdom.

But as Sapnap checked the rooms, the halls, and even outside by the campfire, the knot grew tighter, sinking deeper.

Karl was gone.

Just... gone.

Sapnap's chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. He stood in the middle of the room, staring at the empty space where Karl had been not long ago. The fire was cold, the air still. It was like he had never been there at all.

"No," Sapnap muttered, his voice shaking as he backed up a step. "No, no, no..."

The books fell from the table, scattering across the floor, but Sapnap barely noticed. He collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands, trying to process what had happened. Karl was gone again, ripped away by that damned time travel, just like always.

He had only been gone for twenty minutes. How could Karl disappear so fast? So suddenly? They had plans. They were supposed to rebuild together. They were supposed to have more than just one night.

"I said I wouldn't let go..." Sapnap choked out, his voice thick with emotion. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away furiously. He hadn't even had Karl for a full day. He had him for one night—one perfect, fleeting night—and then he was gone. Again.

The despair crashed over him like a wave, drowning out everything else. It wasn't fair. Karl was ]right there, and now he wasn't. And Sapnap had no idea when—or if—he would come back.For a moment, all Sapnap could do was sit there, crumbling under the weight of it all. The hopelessness. The frustration. The unexplainable sadness that came with losing Karl, over and over again, like a cycle he couldn't escape from.

He hadn't even really had him. Karl had been here, but Sapnap had known, deep down, that at any moment, he could disappear. That the time they spent together was borrowed, fragile, temporary. And still, it hurt like hell to see him vanish into thin air.

But underneath the sadness, a spark of anger ignited. Small at first, but it grew quickly, fueled by the helplessness of it all.

This wasn't right.

Sapnap's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists. He wasn't just going to sit here and wait for Karl to come back this time. He was done being powerless, done watching Karl slip in and out of his life without warning, without control.

If Karl's time travel had gone awry—if something was pulling him away against his will—then Sapnap was going to fix it. He wasn't going to stand by and watch Karl vanish again and again. He wasn't going to sit here in the ruins of Kinoko Kingdom, surrounded by the ghosts of what used to be.

Sapnap stood up abruptly, his chest heaving with determination. He wasn't waiting anymore. He was going to find Karl, and he was going to stop whatever it was that kept taking him away. If there was a way to stop this madness, Sapnap would find it. And he would make sure that Karl never had to leave against his will again.

He would get his friend back, once and for all.

The books lay scattered at his feet, the ones he had picked out with such care, with such quiet hope for the future. He kicked one of them aside, his heart pounding in his chest. The fire inside him was roaring now, fierce and unstoppable.

"Karl," Sapnap whispered into the empty room, his voice filled with a raw mix of anger and sorrow. "I'm going to fix this. I swear. I'm not losing you again."

He couldn't stand the idea of another night like this—another day of waiting, wondering if Karl would ever return. He was done being patient. Done waiting.

Sapnap grabbed his sword from the corner of the room, his mind racing. He didn't know where to start, didn't know who or what was responsible for the time travel pulling Karl away. But he was going to find out.

He was going to fight for Karl. For them. For the one person who still made this broken world feel like home.

And this time, he wasn't letting go. Not until Karl was back where he belonged—by his side, for good.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Sapnap stood at the threshold of his house, his sword gripped tightly in his hand, his chest heaving with adrenaline and determination. He was ready to charge out into the unknown, ready to find Karl, to put an end to this cycle of endless waiting. But as soon as he stepped forward, something made him hesitate.

The fire that had burned so hot just moments ago flickered, sputtered, and suddenly, doubt crept in.

What if Karl came back while he was gone?

The thought hit him like a wall, stopping him in his tracks. His heart pounded, his mind racing in circles. He had been so ready to charge off, so determined to find Karl, but now... Now he wasn't sure.

What if Karl returned, found the house empty, and thought Sapnap had left him? What if Karl came back, ready to stay this time, and found nothing but an empty campfire, the warmth already faded from the hearth? What if Karl disappeared again, thinking Sapnap had given up on him?

Sapnap lowered his sword slowly, the anger that had fueled him moments before fizzling out into something cold and hollow. He stared out at the path in front of him, but now all he could think about was what would happen if he wasn't here when Karl returned.

Because as much as he wanted to believe that Karl would come back, that they'd find a way to stop the time travel from spiraling out of control, he couldn't shake the gnawing fear in the back of his mind.

What if Karl didn't come back this time?

Sapnap's throat tightened at the thought, his hands trembling as he gripped the hilt of his sword. He had told himself he was done waiting, done sitting by the fire and hoping for things to change. But now that he was standing here, on the edge of making a choice, that same fear started to take root again.

It wasn't a bad idea, was it? Going after Karl, trying to stop whatever was pulling him away? But the longer Sapnap stood there, the more uncertain he became. Without Karl's final words of reassurance, without knowing if Karl was even safe, Sapnap felt like he was drowning in doubts.He let out a frustrated growl, tossing the sword to the side and raking his hands through his hair. "Dammit!" he muttered to himself, pacing back and forth across the porch. "What am I supposed to do?"

If he stayed here, he'd be stuck waiting again—sitting by the fire, watching the days go by, wondering when, if, Karl would ever come back. But if he left...

If he left, there was a chance that Karl would return and think that Sapnap had abandoned him. A chance that Karl might disappear again, lost to another timeline, maybe forever.

The thought was suffocating, stifling his determination like a thick, heavy fog. Sapnap's hands trembled as he leaned against the doorframe, his mind racing in every direction. He had no way of knowing what was the right move. No way of knowing if leaving would mean losing Karl all over again.

What if this was the time Karl didn't come back?

The fear wrapped itself around him, so tight he felt like he couldn't breathe. He had just gotten Karl back. He'd had one night—one night—and now it felt like that tiny flicker of hope had been snatched away again. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. But there was no way of knowing what was coming next.

Sapnap felt his knees give way, and he sank down to the porch steps, his hands shaking as he buried his face in them. He had always prided himself on being strong, on knowing what to do when things got rough. But this? This felt impossible.

A part of him wanted to scream at the sky, to demand an answer from whatever force kept tearing Karl away from him. He wanted to fight something, anything, to make the helplessness disappear. But the only enemy he could see was his own fear. And he didn't know how to fight that.

He sat there for a long time, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. The fire in his chest had burned out, leaving only the cold, raw edges of his uncertainty.What if Karl didn't come back this time?

The thought echoed in his mind, louder and more painful than before. It was stupid, irrational even, but without Karl's last words, without that reassurance, it felt all too real.

Maybe Karl was lost, trapped in some distant timeline where Sapnap couldn't reach him. Maybe he was stuck somewhere far away, trying to find a way back. Or maybe... Maybe something worse had happened. Something Sapnap didn't want to think about.

He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself, but the fear wouldn't let go.

You said you wouldn't let go.

The words from last night—his promise to Karl—rang in his ears, making his chest tighten. He had promised. He had sworn to Karl that he wouldn't let him go. But now, sitting there on the porch with the weight of everything crashing down on him, Sapnap realized that maybe letting go wasn't the problem.

Maybe it was holding on.

Because no matter how hard he tried, no matter how tightly he held onto the memories, the moments, Karl kept slipping away. And Sapnap didn't know how much longer he could take it.His head fell into his hands again, a choked breath escaping his lips as he fought to keep the tears at bay. This was supposed to be different. This time was supposed to be different. But here he was, alone again, with no idea when—or if—he'd ever see Karl again.

And that's what scared him the most. The idea that one day, Karl wouldn't come back. That one day, the fire would burn out for good, and Sapnap would be left sitting in the ashes, waiting for someone who was never coming home.

But then, as the silence stretched on, Sapnap made a choice.

He wasn't leaving. Not yet. Not until he was sure that Karl wouldn't come back. He would give it time, just a little longer. And if Karl didn't return soon... then Sapnap would figure out a way to fix things himself. But for now, he'd stay by the fire. He'd wait.

Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he couldn't bear the thought of Karl coming back to an empty house.

Not again.

So Sapnap stood, shaky but resolved, and picked up the sword he had tossed aside. He wasn't giving up. But for now, for today, he would stay.

And when Karl came back, he'd be there. Because he wasn't letting go—not this time.

Not ever.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––-

Sapnap stirred from sleep, the sunlight streaming in through the window warming the room. But the real warmth came from something—someone—pressed against him. At first, he thought it was a dream, some lingering memory of what he wished was real. But then he felt it: the soft rise and fall of another's breathing, the familiar weight of arms wrapped around him, pulling him close.

Karl.

For a moment, Sapnap didn't move. He let himself sink into the sensation of Karl's body pressed against his, the soft, steady rhythm of Karl's breathing grounding him in a way nothing else ever did.

But then, Karl's voice broke the silence, soft and apologetic. "I'm sorry... I hate leaving. I didn't have time to write you a note or anything... I'm sorry if I scared you."

Sapnap didn't say anything. His chest was tight with relief, with something deeper he didn't quite know how to express. Instead, he turned slowly in Karl's arms, his face burying itself in the crook of Karl's neck as he pulled the brunet closer, his arms wrapping tightly around him like he was afraid that if he let go, Karl would vanish again.

Sapnap had never been very touchy, not even with his closest friends. He was the type to express himself through actions, through loyalty and battles fought side by side. But with Karl, things were different. With Karl, the need for closeness, for touch, was something he couldn't deny.

He could never get enough.

Karl let out a soft, surprised laugh as Sapnap pulled him tighter, but he didn't resist. Instead, Karl's arms wrapped around him more securely, his hand gently rubbing Sapnap's back in slow, soothing circles. "I missed you," Karl murmured, his voice soft and warm. "I hate leaving you... I wish I never had to."

Sapnap's throat tightened at those words, and he held Karl even closer, as if he could anchor him here, in this moment, forever. He didn't care if it was clingy or desperate. He didn't care that he'd never shown this side of himself to anyone else. With Karl, he didn't have to hide how much he needed him. How much it hurt every time he disappeared, leaving Sapnap to face the quiet alone.

"I thought you weren't coming back this time," Sapnap whispered into Karl's neck, his voice barely audible. It was a confession he hadn't wanted to make, but now, in the warmth of Karl's embrace, he couldn't help it. "I thought... I was scared."

Karl's hand paused on his back, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then Karl pulled back just enough to look at him, his mismatched eyes full of something soft and sad. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, his hand coming up to cup the side of Sapnap's face. "I'm really sorry. I never want to leave you like that. I didn't have a choice. But I always come back. I always find my way back to you."

Sapnap swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He believed Karl. He had to. But that didn't erase the fear that came with each disappearance, the gnawing worry that one day Karl might not return.

"I just hate not knowing when," Sapnap muttered, his voice gruff but tinged with vulnerability. "I hate waking up and not having you here. It's like... it's like I'm missing a part of me."

Karl's expression softened even more, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently against Sapnap's. "I hate it too. But I promise, every time I'm gone, I'm trying to come back. I think about you. I think about us. And that's what keeps me grounded. You're my anchor, Sapnap."

Sapnap's chest ached at those words, and he closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of Karl. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to put into words how much it meant to him to have Karl here, in his arms, even if it was just for this moment.

So instead, he held Karl tighter, his fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping him steady. Karl responded by pulling him even closer, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle, both of them unwilling to let go.

"Stay," Sapnap whispered, the word slipping out before he could stop it. It was a plea, one he couldn't hold back any longer. "Just... stay. Even if it's just for a little while."

Karl's breath hitched slightly, and he nodded, his hand sliding through Sapnap's hair in a comforting gesture. "I'll stay as long as I can. I promise."

And for now, that was enough.

They lay there for what felt like hours, neither of them willing to break the embrace. Sapnap buried his face deeper into Karl's neck, taking in the warmth, the safety, the quiet comfort that only Karl could give him. His worries, his fears, they didn't disappear completely, but with Karl here—right here—they felt smaller.

He didn't want to think about tomorrow. He didn't want to think about the possibility of waking up to an empty bed again. Right now, all that mattered was that Karl was here, in his arms, and for once, the world didn't feel so heavy.

Karl's hand continued its soothing motion on his back, his breath soft against Sapnap's hair as they lay in peaceful silence. And for the first time in a long time, Sapnap felt like maybe—just maybe—everything would be okay.

"I'll always come back to you," Karl whispered again, his voice a gentle promise that wrapped around Sapnap like a blanket. "No matter what."

And with that, Sapnap let himself believe it. Because for now, in this moment, he had everything he needed.

And he wasn't letting go.

——————————————————————————————

Sapnap woke up slowly this time, the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the window and spilling across the bed. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the familiar rush of dread hit him, the fear that he would roll over and find the bed empty again, the sheets cold where Karl should've been.

But when he shifted slightly, his arms still wrapped around the warm, solid body beside him, his heart swelled.

Karl was still there.

He was still curled up against him, breathing softly, his head resting on Sapnap's chest. The weight of his presence was comforting, steady, real. Sapnap's heart skipped a beat, a sense of relief washing over him in a way that felt almost overwhelming.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Karl hadn't vanished.

Sapnap let out a shaky breath, tightening his hold around the brunet, pulling him closer as if to remind himself that this wasn't a dream. His heart pounded in his chest, but it wasn't out of fear this time. It was something softer, something he didn't fully know how to put into words.

Karl shifted slightly, snuggling closer in his sleep, and Sapnap could smell the familiar scent that always seemed to cling to him—candles, cherries, and a faint hint of nail polish. It was uniquely Karl, a mixture of warmth and sweetness that made everything feel just a little bit better.

For a few moments, Sapnap just lay there, holding him close, soaking in the quiet comfort of having Karl by his side. He didn't want to move, didn't want to disturb the peaceful stillness of the morning. He just wanted to exist in this moment, with Karl safe in his arms.

But as the seconds ticked by, a thought began to creep into Sapnap's mind—one he hadn't wanted to confront before.

What if this didn't have to keep happening? What if there was something he could do to stop whatever force was pulling Karl away?

Sapnap's brows furrowed slightly as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind racing with possibilities. He didn't know much about time travel—hell, most of it was a mystery to him—but he wasn't helpless. There had to be a reason Karl was being dragged back to the past, and if there was a reason, there had to be a way to stop it. Right?

He glanced down at Karl, still fast asleep in his arms, his face soft and peaceful. Sapnap's heart twisted with both affection and worry. He wanted to keep him here, to keep him safe, to stop him from disappearing again. But... was that what Karl would want?

Would Karl want him to figure out what was pulling him back to the past—and destroy it?

Sapnap swallowed hard, his chest tightening with uncertainty. He could do it. He would do it if it meant keeping Karl here with him. But the thought gnawed at him—what if that wasn't what Karl wanted? What if there was something in those other timelines that Karl needed? What if pulling him away from them meant taking something important from him?

His grip on Karl tightened slightly, his mind at war with itself. Sapnap didn't want to be selfish, but every time Karl disappeared, it felt like a part of him was ripped away too. He hated the idea of Karl being stuck in some distant past, alone, with no way to return. He hated the way it made his chest ache with worry, the way it made him feel powerless.

But even more than that, he hated the idea of making a choice that would hurt Karl in the end.Sapnap let out a soft sigh, his hand absentmindedly running through Karl's hair as he tried to make sense of his thoughts. Could he really try to stop the time travel? Could he really take that step, knowing that it might change things for Karl in ways he couldn't predict?

Karl stirred slightly in his sleep, his arms tightening around Sapnap as if he sensed his unease even in slumber. Sapnap's heart clenched at the small gesture, a lump forming in his throat.He wanted to protect Karl. He always had. But what if protecting him meant more than just keeping him in the present? What if there was something out there, some part of Karl's journey, that he couldn't take away?

As he lay there, Sapnap knew one thing for sure: whatever choice he made, he couldn't make it alone. Karl deserved to know. Karl deserved a say in what happened next.Because as much as Sapnap wanted to keep him here—right here—he wasn't going to make that decision without him.

Karl let out a soft murmur in his sleep, his head shifting slightly against Sapnap's chest. Sapnap's heart swelled again, the warmth of Karl's presence filling the room in a way that made the world feel less heavy, less daunting.

He wouldn't let Karl go. Not again. But he also wouldn't make choices for him. Not without knowing what Karl wanted.

Gently, Sapnap brushed a few strands of hair out of Karl's face, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary. He sighed quietly, his mind still racing but his resolve settling into something firmer.

"Whatever happens," Sapnap whispered softly, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the morning, "I'll always fight for you. I just hope you'll tell me what you need."

Because in the end, that was what mattered most.

Karl shifted again, his eyes fluttering open slowly, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips as he looked up at Sapnap. "Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, but there was a hint of joy in it that made Sapnap's heart skip.

Sapnap couldn't help but smile back, the worries in his mind easing just a little at the sight of Karl's face. "Morning," he said softly, brushing his thumb gently across Karl's cheek.For now, Karl was here. And for now, that was enough.

But soon, they'd have to talk. Because Sapnap wasn't going to lose him again.

Not without a fight.

–––––––––––––––—————————————–---------

Sapnap lay there for a while, feeling the steady warmth of Karl's body against his. The scent of candles, cherries, and nail polish still lingered faintly in the air, a soft reminder of the comfort Karl always brought with him. But the longer he stared at the ceiling, the more his thoughts circled back to the question that had been gnawing at him since he'd woken up.He had to ask. He had to know what Karl thought.

The idea of stopping the time travel—of doing something to fix this—was like a fire burning in the back of Sapnap's mind. But he couldn't make that decision on his own, not when it involved Karl. Not when it might change everything for him.

Slowly, Sapnap shifted beneath the blankets, his hand brushing against Karl's arm as he nudged him gently. "Karl?" he asked softly, his voice low, as if he was afraid of shattering the peaceful quiet between them.

Karl blinked up at him, still half-asleep but clearly awake enough to hear the uncertainty in Sapnap's voice. "Hm?" he mumbled, his eyes squinting slightly as he shifted to look at Sapnap more clearly. "What's up?"

Sapnap hesitated for a moment, his fingers still playing absentmindedly with the hem of the blanket. He wasn't sure how to phrase the question, how to put into words the worry that had been gnawing at him since Karl had come back.

Finally, he took a deep breath, glancing down at Karl's sleepy face. "I've been thinking... about what's pulling you back to the past. The time travel. I—" He stopped himself, unsure how to continue, but he forced himself to push through the hesitation. "Do you want me to stop it?"Karl blinked, the sleepy haze in his eyes fading as the question seemed to sink in. He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow, his expression soft but thoughtful. "Stop it?" he repeated, as if the words hadn't fully registered yet.

"Yeah," Sapnap continued, his voice quieter now, laced with uncertainty. "I've been thinking that maybe I could... I don't know, find a way to stop whatever's pulling you back. I hate it, Karl. I hate seeing you disappear. It's like I'm always waiting for the next time you'll vanish, and I don't even know if you're safe or if you're coming back."

Karl didn't say anything right away, his eyes searching Sapnap's face as if he was processing everything he'd just heard. His hand reached out, resting gently on Sapnap's arm, and the touch was grounding, calming. "You want to stop it?"

Sapnap nodded, his throat tightening with the weight of his own uncertainty. "I do," he admitted softly. "But I don't know if you do. I mean, I know you don't like leaving me, but... I don't know. What if there's something in the past that you need? What if stopping it messes something up for you?"

Karl's face softened, his hand still resting against Sapnap's arm as he sat up a little more, the sleepiness fading from his expression. He let out a quiet sigh, his mismatched eyes thoughtful but warm. "I hate leaving you, Sap," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of all the times he'd been pulled away. "Every time I disappear, it's like I'm being ripped away from you, and it sucks. I wish I could stay. I really do."

Sapnap's heart swelled at the words, the sincerity in Karl's voice making his chest ache. But there was more. There had to be more. Karl hadn't answered the question yet."But..." Sapnap prompted quietly, his eyes searching Karl's face for some kind of clue to what he was thinking.

Karl hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting away from Sapnap's, as if he was considering something he hadn't wanted to say out loud. "I don't know if stopping it is a good idea," he admitted, his voice a little quieter now. "It's hard to explain, but... when I travel, it's like I'm connected to something bigger. I'm not sure what it is, but it feels important. And if we stop it—if we destroy whatever's pulling me back—I'm scared it could mess something up. Something in the past, or even here, with us."

Sapnap's heart sank slightly at the words, but he wasn't surprised. He'd suspected this might be the answer all along, but hearing it still hurt. He wanted so badly to keep Karl here, to stop the time travel from tearing them apart again and again. But if Karl felt like there was something bigger at play—something he couldn't just walk away from—then how could Sapnap take that from him?

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The room was filled with the soft sound of their breathing, the quiet crackle of the morning outside. Sapnap's fingers tightened in the blanket, his mind spinning with a thousand different thoughts.

"But that doesn't mean I want to leave you," Karl added quietly, his hand gently squeezing Sapnap's arm. "If I could stay, I would. Every time I'm pulled away, all I can think about is how much I miss you. How much I want to be with you. But I don't know how to stop it without losing... something. And I'm scared of what might happen if we try."

Sapnap's chest tightened at the words, a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over him. He wanted to be angry at the situation—angry at whatever force was keeping Karl tethered to the past—but the raw honesty in Karl's voice softened that anger. He couldn't be mad at Karl for something he couldn't control. And he couldn't take that choice away from him.

But it didn't stop the ache. It didn't stop the part of Sapnap that wanted—needed—Karl to stay.

For a moment, Sapnap just looked at him, his chest heavy with everything he couldn't put into words. Then, finally, he let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to press his forehead gently against Karl's.

"I just... I just don't want to lose you," Sapnap whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time you leave, it feels like you're slipping farther away, and I'm scared that one day you won't come back. I don't know what I'd do if that happened."

Karl's breath hitched slightly, and he leaned into the touch, his arms wrapping around Sapnap in a gentle but firm embrace. "You won't lose me," Karl whispered back, his voice steady and sure. "I promise. I'll always come back to you. No matter what."

The words sank into Sapnap's heart like a lifeline, easing some of the fear that had been weighing him down for so long. It wasn't the perfect solution—it wasn't the answer he had been hoping for—but it was enough. For now, it was enough to know that Karl wanted to come back. That he would always come back.

Sapnap closed his eyes, letting out a soft, shaky breath as he buried his face in Karl's shoulder. "Okay," he whispered, his voice quieter now, but filled with a sense of acceptance. "Okay. We won't stop it. But... just promise me you'll come back. No matter what."

Karl smiled softly, his arms tightening around Sapnap. "I promise. Always."

And with that, Sapnap let the weight of his worries lift—if only for a little while—knowing that whatever happened next, they would face it together.

I feel kinda bad that it's ending there bc it feels unfinished...but...like... maybe I'll add onto it later.

Should I break this up into chunks? It's too short to have its own story, but I could make a book of stories that are too short to be books but too long to make oneshots. Ooh. Yes.

Maybe I will. Sometime.

Word count: 10,561 (HOLY FUCK)

I hope you enjoyed.

:)

-ITCFWI