TW/CWs: Unreality, Inaccurate medical stuff, Head injuries, Moon Big Trauma, Mild face horror (melting etc.), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Learned Helplessness

———Last Read———

Tango: brb gonna save the world

Impy: See you on the other side, guys!

Zed: What if sheep were secretly cannibals?

Zed: Huh what's up with them

Zed: WATCHERS ALMIGHGHJKL

Skizz: Zed?

Skizz: Tango?

Skizz: Dippledop?

Skizz: Anyone?

Skizz: Hello?

Skizz: You all ok out there?

Skizz: Please be alright

———

Skizz juggled the stacks of cobblestone and stone between his two hands, frowning pensively. It wasn't like him to let something like this weigh on him, but he hadn't heard from any of the rest of ZITS in days, and they were his friends, damnit, and he was worried about them. It wasn't a normal worry, either. It felt, deep in his bones, like something had gone horribly, deeply wrong with the universe, and he couldn't do a thing about it but worry.

What was he building again? Whatever inspiration he'd had seemed to have fluttered away from his mind. He put the blocks back into his inventory, and sat down on the grass with a soft flump, staring vacantly into the distance, watching the wind play with the grass of the meadow. His breaths were a little louder in his ears than normal, and he couldn't tell if it was from their weight or his focus.

Maybe he should talk to Zloy. Didn't he co-run some show keeping up with the server the others were on? For that matter, weren't Pearl and Impulse literally living together? He decided to pull his communicator out again. He decided to pull his communicator out again. He pulled his communicator out again, and stared blankly at the screen. He let off a soft groan. Why was his head being like this? He typed in the password. The password was wrong. He stared at the communicator again. He put it away, he couldn't use it in this state.

He knew he should get up and do something. He had things to do. At least, he thought, he should get up off the ground. It was kinda uncomfortable. He couldn't do anything about what was happening with the others, so he should do something for himself, at the very least. Like get up off the ground. That was a thing he should be doing. Roughly now. Yep. He was getting up off the ground... right... now.

He remained on the ground. 

To be fair, he genuinely wanted to get up, but that idea didn't seem to translate to the rest of him. So he remained on the ground. He stared into space some more. Where he was looking, there seemed to be four or five birds or bats or something around height limit. How odd. It looked like they were flying down, though. It looked like they were going down quite fast, actually. For that matter, they looked too big to be birds or bats.

The realisation hit him like a truck. Those weren't birds, or bats, and they sure as hels weren't flying. Those were players, and they were falling. With a fluidity of movement he'd been unable to muster not five seconds prior, Skizz jumped up, pulling out a water bucket and some ender pearls, and dashed and teleported below the falling players, desperately throwing down the water bucket to save them.

The first four touched down safely with a gentle splash, but Skizz realised too late that the fifth was going to just barely miss the puddle. Barely thinking, he threw himself towards them in an effort to roll them into the water, or something, he just didn't want to have a guy in a death loop on his hands, you know, especially when he'd managed to save the other four from the very same death loop.

To his credit, his desperate actions worked, for the most part. The person didn't immediately die, although Skizz internally winced at the sickening thunk as their head smacked against the inside of their helmet. Skizz pushed them off himself, rolling them onto their side as he watched the other four pick themselves up and dust themselves off. There was something achingly familiar about the person in front of him, through the yellow of their helmet.

The recognition hit him like a train breaking whatever the speed limit of a train is. Lying there, blood seeping over his forehead, eyes lightly shut, was Impulse. Skizz looked up, just to check, and sure enough, the other four were Pearl, Grian, Mumbo and Scar. They all looked fine, so he started checking Impulse over, realising he needed to get Impulse's helmet off to give any kind of first aid. He gave it a gentle tug, then ran his fingers around the rim, looking for a latch. 

Pearl knelt down next to him and guided his hand to the latch, helping him pull it off. Impulse took a faint gasp of air the moment he was freed. As Scar cleaned the blood from the wound on Impulse's forehead, Skizz tried to wake him, but these efforts were to no avail. Impulse remained just as unresponsive as before, no matter what Skizz tried. Skizz turned to the others, face creased into something resembling a hybrid of dread, fear, and shock.

"He's not waking up." He told them.

"I'll call for help, can you get us to the hub?" Mumbo asked. Skizz nodded.

———

Impulse gasped awake, still floating in the void. Of course it had just been a dream. Of course they weren't out of this yet. He looked around. The others were still asleep. He tried to shake Mumbo awake. Mumbo groaned quietly, before falling back asleep. He'd've tried to wake Scar, too, but he was just out of reach. It was probably for the better. Impulse yearned for the gentle touch of light on his skin that his dream had brought him. He yearned to see Skizz, or anyone, really, just one more time. Above all, he yearned to be anywhere but here, in the dark and the cold.

Something tugged at his helmet. Impulse let out a yelp, and tried to shove it back on. The something tugged again, this time twisting the helmet right off his head. Impulse instinctively gasped, before realising that that probably wasn't the best move in the void, before realising again that he could, in fact, breathe. The air was nice, actually. It tasted like the distant memory of freshly-cut grass, of warmth and laughter and gunpowder. It reminded him of Skizz and Zed and Tango.

His forehead felt numb and cold, all of a sudden, and he felt a liquid running down his face. He lifted his hand to wipe it, and came back with a strange purple-black ooze on his fingertips. More flowed down, dripping over his eyes, as fast as he could wipe it away and his face was so cold and his hands were covered in voidstuff and he couldn't see and he couldn't breathe and it was getting in his ears and-

It went away. He shook his head violently. He couldn't be hallucinating in here now. That wouldn't do any good. He looked around at his companions, wondering if any of them had awoken yet. He let out a scream, tensing up. Their faces had all fully melted into voidstuff, leaving oddly blank heads leaking dark ooze. It looked... wrong. Impulse shuddered, but it was fine, he was just hallucinating again. They were fine.

"Dippledop, can you wake up for me?"

That was Skizz's voice! Impulse looked around wildly, trying to find the source. It was probably another hallucination, but maybe, just maybe...

"Impy? You with us?"

The voice was coming from Grian, he realised. Or, at least, Grian's face bubbled when Skizz's voice spoke.

"Yeah. I'm here." He replied. "I think I'm hallucinating, though."

"Impulse, please..."

"I'm here! I'm awake!" Impulse cried out into the darkness.

Was he awake, though? That was a thought. He pinched himself gently. He didn't feel a thing. He pinched himself again, harder, but there wasn't even the slightest pricking sensation. So he was sleeping, then. This was all just a bad dream. That was... probably a good thing?

"He's not waking up."

"I'll call for help, can you get us to the hub?" Mumbo's voice spoke, Pearl's face bubbling.

Impulse figured that the way to wake up was probably falling asleep in here, so he let his eyes drift shut, tuned out all noise, and waited for sleep (or was it wakefulness?) to claim him once more.

———

Impulse looked so helpless, laying there in the hospital bed. His mouth hung slightly open, his breathing soft and gentle. His head injury had healed over, leaving a gnarled pink scar. The doctors said that the wound, combined with the lingering effects of falling through the void, had corrupted Impulse's code - the coma was a result of it trying to fix itself. They didn't know yet whether any corruption would persist once Impulse woke up.

Skizz held Impulse's hand, gently rubbing his thumb in circles on Impulse's palm, like the two of them had done for each other since they were little kids, still stressed about simple things like exams and social groups and drumming and whatever elese. It was calming for the both of them. Skizz hoped it would help win the fight that was probably going on inside Impulse right now. Subconsciously, he fell into time with the beeping of them machine Impulse was hooked up to, in time with the beating of his heart.

"I know you, Skizz." Pearl's voice came from behind him, startling him out of his vigil. "That's your worrying face."

"I feel like I should've done something, you know?" Skizz whispered, not making eye contact.

"There was nothing you could do." Pearl consoled. "There was nothing any of us could do. He's in the hands of the devs now."

"I don't trust Lime with him." Skizz replied, a weak attempt at a joke. It didn't land.

"Go rest." Pearl told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Gri and I will watch over him for the night." She nodded to Grian, who waited in the door.

"You sure?"

"Go."

Reluctantly, Skizz trudged to bed.

———

"So basically, I'm Tango's emotional support sheep now!" Zed finished telling the story with a small smile on his face as the trio walked into the foyer of the hospital. Zed and Tango both looked haunted - although to be fair, Skizz knew he probably looked just the same. Impulse's absence weighed heavily on all three of them, and there was nothing they could do.

"Why did you bring us here, anyway?" Tango asked, trailing behind as Skizz walked up to the front desk.

"We're here to see ImpulseSV." He told the receptionist, indirectly answering Tango's question. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tango's expression morph into one of shock, disbelief, and maybe a little relief as he discussed with the receptionist the details of visiting Impulse. He knew them off by heart by now, of course, but it was only polite.

"He's alive?" Tango asked quietly as Skizz led them down the corridor he'd walked what felt like a thousand times. Skizz nodded, a faint smile on his face, as he opened the door to Impulse's ward. Zed gasped softly at the sight of Impulse lying on the hospital bed, nigh-motionless. Skizz remained quiet. Impulse was the same as ever. The beeping made him slightly nauseous.

Tango ran to Impulse's side, grabbing his hand like a lifeline. Impulse didn't react. Skizz could see how Tango's eyes shone with tears. Zed's hand ghosted comfortingly over Tango's shoulder, but Skizz couldn't miss the way he himself was shaking. Skizz felt frozen in the light of his friends' grief. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't do anything. He wanted to comfort them, but it wouldn't do anything. He hated this.

———

Impulse was having a hels of a weird time. Sleeping had not worked - not even close. Part of it was that Grian had started emitting this really obnoxious beeping noise, and part of it was that every time he got even a hair's breadth towards falling asleep (waking up?), something inside of him felt like it was burning and tearing itself apart and trying to rewrite itself and the pain shocked him right back to square one. It was, quite frankly, quite the drain on his emotional battery.

One more attempt, he told himself. One more attempt, and then he'd just give in and wait for wakefulness to come at its natural pace. He let his eyes flutter shut, took a deep breath of the stale void-air, and pushed. The wall in his head resisted, but it seemed softer, and didn't hurt so much. The storm seemed to have calmed. Finally, with a little spark, he felt himself let go of this helsforsaken nightmare, and awoke.

There was an odd pricking sensation in his left arm. Something heavy and comfortable was on top of his torso and legs - a blanket? The ground under him definitely felt soft enough to be a bed. There was something even heavier lying on his right arm, pinning it down. Impulse tried to move it, sending an echo of pins and needles up to his shoulder. The air smelled like cheap hand sanitiser and disinfectant. He nudged again, and the weight on his arm shifted slightly with a quiet grunt. The voice sounded faintly familiar... Skizz?

Impulse figured he should probably open his eyes, actually look at where he was. At the same time, he was too lethargic and his eyelids were too heavy, so they stayed shut for now. A quiet beeping reached his ears, but otherwise wherever he was was silent. No, wait, there was the gentle breathing of whoever was sleeping on his arm, too. It really did sound like Skizz. That was a comforting thought, that Skizz was here. 

He nudged a third time, and the weight vanished off his arm with a quiet questioning noise. Too lethargic to do much of anything else, Impulse opened his eyes a sliver, and smiled gently at Skizz. Something was wrong with Skizz's face, but Impulse couldn't quite place what. He voiced this thought, a quiet mumble, and Skizz made a noise of indignation. Impulse smiled and turned over, falling back into a dreamless sleep.

When he awoke again, there was someone hovering over him. He couldn't quite tell who, because for the life of him he couldn't make out their face. He tilted his head slightly - maybe their outfit would give him some kind of clue. They were wearing a hoodie, with long brown hair that was dyed blonde at the front - Pearl. He was looking at Pearl.

"You alright, Impulse?" She asked. This time, Impulse didn't even have any kind of bubbling to go off of, to see who was speaking, but it was Pearl's voice, so presumably it was coming from Pearl.

"Fine. I'm fine." Impulse replied, hoping she couldn't tell he was lying through his teeth. He wanted to tell her about the face thing, he really did, but there was that niggling feeling at the back of his mind of maybe it'll go away, you shouldn't be a problem. The feeling was wrong, he knew, but it coiled around his tongue like a leaden snake regardless of his personal convictions of the situation.

Pearl made a worried humming noise. She was probably frowning slightly, that seemed like the sort of expression she would make to go with that noise. Impulse looked away, actively avoiding eye contact instead of just being unable to make it.

———

Tango pulled Impulse into a hug as soon as they walked into the ward and saw him awake, sitting up against the back of his bed. A momentary expression of alarm flashed across his face, his body tensing, before he melted into the warm familiarity of Tango's embrace. Tango pulled back, looking into Impulse's eyes, slightly concerned. His gaze seemed unfocused, and he was avoiding eye contact, but that made sense - he had a little ender blood in his veins, after all.

"Hey, Tango." Impulse smiled. His eyes passed over Zed, but there was no warmth, no joy, no recognition. His mouth hung slightly open, as if he was searching for a name. Zed tensed slightly, but managed to get his apprehension out in the form of a lighthearted tease.

"Come on, I haven't changed that much." The weak chuckle that escaped him tasted bitter on his tongue, but the cause of that pain was short-lived as recognition blossomed in Impulse's gaze the moment Zed's voice left his mouth.

"You dyed your hair! How was I supposed to recognise you like that!?" Impulse teased.

"Ah," Zed grinned, more heartily this time, walking over to Impulse's side and leaning on the bed, "You know how it is. New season, new me!"

"And for the record..." Tango added, and Zed's eyes widened as he realised what Tango was about to do.

"No, no, no, no-" Zed sputtered out, before Tango picked him up and he let out an involuntary bleat as his hooves kicked, searching for ground or purchase or something. Impulse laughed, bewildered and amazed.

"Zeddy didn't dye his hair." Tango explained, beaming proudly as he put Zed down.

"You're gonna have to tell me everything." Impulse insisted, as Zed collapsed next to him, hand over his forehead in a lighthearted impression of fainting, one eye closed and the other cracked half-open to observe Tango's amused expression. 

"Fine." Tango shrugged. "I'll start..."

———

Impulse stared into space, his thoughts racing. He had straight-up failed to recognise one of his best friends after only a few minor changes. Hels, he'd taken a moment too long to recognise Tango and it had shown in the concern in Tango's voice. Not to mention the fact that he was used to seeing faces, and such an abrupt change had thrown him for a loop.

Intellectually, he knew that Zed and Tango and Skizz and all the others would support him. Intellectually, he knew that his situation was probably to be expected, based on what the doctors had told him so far. Intellectually, he knew that his life would be much better if he just told them, if he accepted accommodation. But emotionally? Years of happily being the pillar for everyone else, years of being the 'dad friend', had left him terrified of being a burden himself. Even if he knew that he wouldn't be, he was terrified that he could.

This, of course, left him with one option: keep quiet. Keep his problems to himself so he wouldn't, so he couldn't, force them on the others. It was fine. He knew enough about what his friends looked like to make do. He was already skilled at guessing emotion from tone of voice alone thanks to Etho and X. He didn't need anything, and if he did, he'd keep it to himself.

Some part of him knew he did need help, but the terror silenced it pretty quickly.

"Prosopagnosia."

"What?"

Impulse snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at the doctor.

"Face blindness. It's a fairly common corruption; many people are born with it."

"And?" Impulse asked. He knew the answer.

"It's the closest match to your symptoms."

"What treatment is there?"

"I'm sorry, but there isn't any."

"Oh."

"I recommend you find workarounds. Find ways of recognising your friends without using their face - many people use bracelets or jewellery."

"Okay." Impulse did not, in fact, plan on doing this.

"You've got good friends. I'd be surprised if they don't support you." The doctor's voice lowered, laden with sincerity. They then sat up, and handed him a piece of paper. "Call an emergency number or speak to an admin immediately if you receive any of these symptoms." It was a standard list of complicated corruption symptoms. Impulse was vaguely familiar, he'd seen the list before back in the days of Moonlight. He and the doctor exchanged a few pleasantries, and then Impulse was dismissed.

"You alright, dippledop?" Skizz caught Impulse at the door. He tensed for a moment.

"Yeah." Impulse responded. "Skizzletop." He added, more as an afterthought. He was a little distracted.

"Can I ask..."

"I'm fine."

"You don't need-"

"No."

Skizz knew Impulse was lying, he could see it in every movement Impulse made, he could hear it in every little inflection of his voice. He wanted to protest, he did, but it was like the internal equivalent of bashing his head on a brick wall repeatedly. He just couldn't. He'd say that the fight ran out of him, but that would imply there was any fight in the first place. His voice fell quiet as he helped Impulse back to his room. He cast one last worried glance at Impulse as he left him in the care of the medical staff, but Impulse's face gave no secrets.

Skizz had never felt so helpless.

———

"Mind if I sit here?" Mumbo asked. Skizz made a non-committal noise, but did nothing to stop him.

"I've been working on- on these word scrambles, can you help me?" Mumbo asked.

"What's the point?" Skizz replied. "I probably can't do them anyway."

Mumbo winced. The silence that flashed between the two for what felt like both a heartbeat and a thousand years was practically palpable.

"Skizz," Mumbo began, "This- this isn't healthy."

"What?"

"I was- I- I was gonna make a point with the word scrambles. You made it for me by- by not even trying. I know Impulse is worrying you, but he's gonna get out tomorrow, and- and you're important too. I've- Hels, I've barely met you and I'm worried about you."

"I can't do anything." Skizz admitted softly. "I can't do anything. I'm powerless. Impy is tearing himself apart and I can't do anything about it."

"I know how you feel," Mumbo replied. Skizz opened his mouth to speak but Mumbo cut him off. "But you need to know it's not healthy. I've- I've been in your shoes, and it's hard, but you need to fight it."

"What do I do, then, Mr. Genius?" Skizz asked, still not making eye contact.

"Anything." Mumbo suggested. 

Skizz gave him a bewildered look.

"I mean it." Mumbo told him. "You need to- to take back control." He handed the book of puzzles the word scrambles were in to Skizz. "Pick a puzzle. Build a castle. Do something. Do anything. Give your- yourself the, uh, the power."

"But how do I-"

"Healing isn't linear, Skizz. I can't- I can't tell you how to pull yourself out. I can- I only can- I-" Mumbo paused to breathe, rubbing his thumb over his wrist. "I can only tell you that you need to."

"Ok."

"I mean it, Skizz. I'll talk to Zed and Impulse and Tango too, but you- you need to take the lead here, or it defeats the point."

"Ok."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

———

"I'm sending the video to Skizz!" Tango called, cackling.

"No, wait, that bleat-" Zed replied, a tease tainting his mock panic.

"Too late!"

Impulse looked on with a fond smile. Tango and Zed were really the best guys a guy could ask for. Skizz too, for that matter - the trio had met up to send Skizz the weekly update video assuring him they were ok that he'd asked for. Right here, right now, things felt right, and Impulse felt himself relaxing like he hadn't since the moon first got big, as Tango and Zed's play-fighting died down. A thought crossed his mind, loosing the mental binds on his voice for just long enough for him to say it.

"Prosopagnosia."

The other two turned to face him.

"What?" Tango asked.

"Face blindness?" Zed added, equally confused.

"I have prosopagnosia."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I... I can't make out anybody's face, I have difficulty recognising people, I can't- I can't read expressions, um..."

Impulse trailed off, shoulders tensed, waiting for the judgement, for the assessment that he was a burden, even for them to simply brush him off. Deep down, he knew they wouldn't, but that didn't stop the shock of fear running through him. He wished that he could read their expressions so he could brace for the worst.

"How can we support you?" Tango's voice broke the momentary silence.

"What?"

"Is there anything we can do to make things easier for you?"

"I, well..." Impulse paused thoughtfully, caught off-guard. "If there's any way to make sure I can always recognise you?"

"We could make friendship bracelets?" Zed suggested, "And we could make them codebound so we respawn with them?"

"Yeah?" Impulse agreed, still somewhat unsure. He liked the idea, but-

"Hey." Tango interrupted his thoughts. "You're not a burden, ok? Anything we can do to help, we'll do in a heartbeat, right?" He turned to Zed.

"Yeah!"

Tears pricked at the corners of Impulse's eyes, a warm feeling of being loved settling in his chest. Tango gently wiped Impulse's tears away, and Impulse leaned his head on his shoulder. Zed made an indignant noise at being left out of the hug pile, and scrambled over to throw his arm around Impulse's shoulder.

Maybe, just maybe, all would soon be right in the world.

———

4104 more words of angst!

The next part will probably be shorter, as it's an interlude with Tango and Doc.

I've also decided that one oneshot where Zed got trapped in the test tube is part of this AU/timeline/whatever.

I've been Entropy, peace out from the present!