Chapter Text
The water swirling down the drain was gross, fully tinted white with the flour gunk, but at least he was feeling a bit clearer now.
He sat in the bathtub as the water beat down on him, but he didn't want to get out. He could've stayed there all night. The ringing in his skull that'd been plaguing him had finally abated, and even though Paps kept throwing snide remarks at him for being so weak and pathetic, it was easy to filter his voice out into white noise, the the spray from overhead.
He didn't know how long he'd been there, scrubbing himself until his bones felt raw and itchy, but he'd stopped himself when the hot water turned painful against the abrasions. He'd probably gotten most of it, which was all that mattered. He couldn't taste it anymore and there were no globs stuck to the roof of his mouth. Good enough.
Eventually, he got pulled out of his head by a knock on the door.
Instinctively, his head snapped up, but with the shower curtain drawn around the tub, he couldn't see anything.
"Hey," Crop called from behind the door, "I brought you fresh clothes, can I come in to place 'em down?"
"Yeah, that's fine," Dust called back.
The door squeaked open and Crop's form cast a hazy shadow through the curtain. He put the stack of clothes next to the sink, right by the towel and just in easy reach. It was such a small thing, and yet Dust almost wanted to cry.
"Are..." Crop paused, "ya okay? Sorry, stupid question, I know."
Despite himself, Dust couldn't help but snort. "Terrible," he agreed, then hunched over himself a bit, knees pressed against his chest. "I'm fine now. Sorry for freaking."
"Hey now, partner. None of that, ya hear me? We ain't apologize fer bein' triggered in this house. Got it?"
Dust snorted again. "You sound like a really shitty cowboy," he said.
"Well, maybe so, but the point stands. I don't know yer hangups like I know H's, but... We definitely didn't want to bring anything up, and I'm sorry it happened. No more flour on my watch, ya can bet on that." Crop paused for a moment, just long enough for Dust to realize how weird it was to receive an apology in the bathroom, while he was showering. Then again, weirder shit had happened in his life. "I thought H would know how to help ya. Did he?"
"...Yeah. But if you're trying to wingman us, it's going absolutely terribly."
"I ain't know what ya mean, I don't gotta do any wingmanning. Horror already loves ya."
Dust rolled his eyelights and reached to turn the faucet off. "I'm Ash, remember?" he asked, grabbing the towel and wiping himself off while still in the tub. At least it meant he didn't get cold.
"Yeah, I know," Crop replied, "My point stands."
"Oh, like hell it does," Dust muttered back, wincing when the towel aggravated some of the bones he'd scrubbed too hard.
"It does too. I'm ready to argue all night long. Ya... ya know he's gonna figure it out at some point, right?"
"Not if I stop having these stupid fucking breakdowns."
"Dust. It's okay not to be okay."
Dust had nothing to say to that, the words feeling like worms burrowing into him, itchy and uncomfortable. Now standing and as dry as he could be, he reached for the clothes.
"Oh! Shit, I'm sorry! Lemme get outta here so ya can change," Crop said, clearly flustered and only now realizing their current predicament.
But...
"Can you stay, actually?" Dust asked, knowing how weird the request was as soon as it left his mouth.
"I- Yeah, course."
Dust's shoulders drooped as the sudden tension drained out of him. He pulled the shirt on, finding it more than a little loose, which meant it was one of Crop's. He'd positively swim in one of Horror's, after all (he knew from experience). The shorts, too, but nothing that tying the string didn't fix.
Decently covered, he pulled the curtain away and stepped out of the tub, wiping his feet on the small, fluffy rug placed next to it.
Crop was just standing there, with that same, soft smile that he'd given Dust back in the kitchen. Dust felt compelled to say, "Thanks," though not sure why.
"Course." He was green in the face and looking at Dust - or, more specifically, his clothes - like he held the secret of the universe or something, but he caught himself and looked away, getting greener and brighter by the second. "Lemme put yer clothes into the wash."
He moved to pick up the haphazard pile of clothes Dust'd left on the floor, but Dust moved too, snatching his scarf from it.
"I, um... Not the scarf. I wash it by hand," he said, holding the fabric tightly even though it was completely covered with flour that needed to be washed out.
"Okay, of course," Crop agreed easily, "Want help?"
Not really, Dust thought, but also yes.
He nodded and, after a moment of hesitation, handed it over and proceeded to wipe his hands off on his shorts. And promptly winced when he realized they weren't his, but Crop didn't say anything to him.
Crop took the scarf gingerly, treating what amounted to a scrap of fabric with the reverence Dust held for it, and that was what really made Dust trust him with it.
"C'mon, partner, sit down while I do this, yeah?"
"Sit down? Where?"
"The toilet, s'why it's there," Crop chuckled.
Okay, fair. Dust proceeded to sit on the toilet cover, and Crop handed him something else. Something else that turned out to be a pair of slippers. He gave Crop a confused glance.
"I've been forgetting to give 'em to ya," the farmer said, "We've kept a couple for guests at the house. Ya keep walking around in those big boots and that's gotta be uncomfortable, and it's too cold to stay barefoot, so put 'em on, yeah?"
Dust did, finding them plush and warm. He wiggled his toes inside them, just because he could, as Crop started the tap and running the scarf under it.
"You gotta stop being so nice to me, I'll start thinking you like me," Dust joked, finding it easier to do now that he didn't feel like shit.
Crop, however, didn't laugh along. "I do," he said, never looking away from what he was doing.
Dust desperately wanted to have his hood so he could hide in it, but at least Crop wasn't looking at him while he flubbed at the admission.
"So," Crop continued, the perfect topic changer, ten out of ten, perfect, bless him, "I heard the scarf's important to ya."
"Mhm," Dust agreed, "It was my brother's. It's the only thing I have left of him."
He could sense the explanation made Crop uneasy, but it was what it was. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's fine. It's been a while." Plus, he was still here, so it wasn't that big of a deal. He tried not to think about the absolute meltdown that Paps had had when Dust ripped the scarf up for his disguise.
"Still... Should I do something special with it?"
"Just soap's enough," Dust told him, "thank you."
"You don't gotta thank me."
Crop lathered the scarf up, rinsed it off, and inspected it to make sure nothing was left on it, all under Dust's watchful gaze, which turned out to not be needed with the care he was putting into it.
"I'll hang it here on the radiator, 'kay? It should be dry by the time we're done with dinner."
"Okay."
"Now, c'mon, let's make those 'zzas!"
Crop's enthusiasm was infectious and Dust returned his beaming grin with a smile of his own.
"Okay," he repeated. Then, he had a thought, and frowned as he mulled it over. Then he said fuck it, he'd already looked pathetic, what's a little more? "Could I... have a hug?"
Crop looked taken aback by the question (and Dust almost chickened out) but held his arms out. "Course ya can, sweet pea. C'mere."
Dust did, squeezing Crop close and reveling in the squeeze he got in return. Horror always hugged him when he'd had an episode, it'd always made Dust feel safe and protected, mostly because of Horror's size. But Crop was also bigger than him (not as much, but still) and the feeling carried over.
Feeling more steady, he pulled away even though he didn't want to.
"Thanks. I'll have a smoke and meet you guys in the kitchen."
Crop had that smile still plastered on his face and Dust was starting to like it on him more and more. It was no wonder Horror loved him. "Sounds good. We'll have everything ready for ya."
Dust nodded, because he already felt like he was saying thanks too much, and slunk out of the bathroom and out onto the porch.
The sun had already set and the breeze was stiff, enough to have him shuddering, but not enough to dissuade him. He lit a cigarette and took a drag, letting the smoke fill up his ribcage and absorb into his leylines.
Distantly, he felt bad that he'd get Crop's clothes smelling like nicotine, but he could just wash them tomorrow.
He wasn't even alone for three minutes when the door opened behind him and Horror sat next to him on the steps with a quiet, "Hey."
"Hey," Dust replied between drags.
Horror asked for a cig, so while Dust found that surprising, he handed the pack over for Horror to take one. The lighter, similarly, got swapped between them, and then sat there in silence. Horror kept stealing glances at him, and Dust only knew because he kept doing the same, mesmerized by the smoke escaping from the head wound and how it looked with the soft light coming through the pane of glass in the front door.
"What?" Dust couldn't help but ask after the fourth time he caught Horror's gaze. Horror's face flushed with a faint shade of red, that shade that Dust loved like no other and looked down between them. "Nothing, sorry... How... are you feeling?"
Dust bit his tongue. "I'm fine now."
The answer was more chipped than he'd intended, but he kind of didn't care. Horror seemed to catch on. "I'm... sorry again," he mumbled, "For the flour."
"It's fine."
Then, he was done with his smoke. He leaned over to put it out in the jar, which was slowly but surely filling up. He'd have to toss it soon. Leaning over exposed him to the breeze and he shivered.
It was such a small thing, but Horror noticed.
He was too fucking perceptive, it was scary sometimes.
He reached down and untied the hoodie he kept wearing around his waist and draped it over Dust's shoulders. The ratty thing was just as warm as Dust remembered it, heavy and smelling of Horror so much that it made his sockets sting. He burrowed into it on instinct, mostly to hide his face; it felt hot and he didn't want Horror to see him blush.
"We should... head in," he told Dust, flashing a smile Dust didn't feel like he deserved. "It's cold, isn't it?"
Numbly, Dust nodded. Horror put his cigarette out and stood up with a few pops of his joints and held his hand out to help Dust up, too. Well, there went any chance of Dust's blush dying down.
Still, he took the offered hand and allowed Horror back into the house.
Crop was waiting for them in the kitchen with three mugs of what looked like hot chocolate, complete with mini marshmallows sprinkled on the heaps of whipped cream.
He obviously noticed Dust's staring and beamed. "Ain't nothin' better than some hot cocoa for a long day, eh?"
Dust snorted. Yeah, sure, a long day indeed.
It skirted the edges of what he thought passed the boundaries of his no-food-from-others rule, but he still took the mug. A small dessert spoon was stuck in the side and he took a spoonful of the whipped cream.
The intent hit him like a brick. Crop had obviously taken great care to prepare it, and he'd probably whipped the cream himself, if the messy bowl he spied in the sink was anything to go by.
"So?" Crop grinned at him, leaning against the side of the table. The flour that'd been all over the table and floor was gone, cleaned up by one (or maybe both) of them, and the doughs had been rolled out and waited to be covered in whatever they decided on. "Are we bonded now or what?"
Dust almost sputtered. He thought neither of them would bring it up and they'd go along with Dust's earlier thought, which was, well, it's a beverage and technically not food.
"Oh fuck off," he laughed, punching Crop in the arm. Not hard or anything, just enough to have him laughing, too. "You wish."
Horror was watching them with such intensity that if Dust wasn't feeling so much better than before, he would've bailed. Probably.
"Aw, a shame," Crop played along, pouting to add to the effect, "I'll have to try harder then."
Still purple in the face, Dust almost hit him again. "Shut up, stars. Let's make those damn pizzas before I fuck the whole night up again."
Crop gave him a look, probably to let him know he didn't fuck anything up, but he let it go nonetheless. "Sure, sure, I'm startin'. Here, I got all the stuff ready to go. What do ya like on yer pizza?"
Dust took the jar of tomato sauce as it was handed to him, then the spoon that followed, and got started on lathering it onto the dough he assigned to himself, since it was the closest. It wasn't ketchup and he would've been more than happy with just that, but it smelled so delicious he started to salivate. He was also starving.
He looked over at the available options as Crop lined them up on the little piece of free space on the table, one after the other. Once he was done with the sauce and handed it off to Horror, he grabbed the stack of ham. Piece by piece, he laid it over the whole thing, because he liked ham.
However, there was one thing he didn't see between the jars of mushrooms and tupperwares of cheese and pepperoni.
"Do you have any pineapple?" he asked, bracing himself for the jokes and arguments he knew were coming. It was a routine back at the castle, because stars forbid he asked for pineapple on his ham pizza. What an atrocity. The others (Killer) never had good taste, anyway.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure we do!" Crop said, blindsiding him. He went to root through the pantry while Dust stood there, frankly taken aback when he'd been ready to defend his choices.
Horror was giving him a look, but he didn't say anything, just meticulously placed pepperoni all over his own pizza.
"A-ha!" Crop exclaimed, returning with a can of pineapple triumphantly aloft.
It was one of those pull-tab cans, so Dust didn't need an opener. Horror was watching him as he opened it, but he chalked it up to the fact he lifted the thing up and drank the juice straight from it the moment he got it open. What could he say, he liked pineapple.
He shrugged, and dumped the whole can onto his pizza when he got it covered in cheese.
"Okay, I'm done," he said, and because he felt silly standing around, grabbed the cocoa again. It'd cooled off in the meantime and tasted lovely, so he shuffled off to the corner to enjoy the treat while the others finished up with their own.
"There's a stack of DVDs in the lil console under the TV," Crop told him, "Y'should pick one while I get 'em cooked. Should only be fifteen or so, we can have a movie night!"
Horror hummed his assent and Dust jumped at the idea. Stars, it'd been so long since he'd had a movie night. They were a fairly common occurrence, back at the castle, which just made him realize just how many things from back then he truly missed.
So he went to the living room and started going through the DVDs. There were more than just 'a stack' as Crop had put it, and half of them were for children. They were animated, and he supposed they belonged to Crop's brother, if he was anything like Paps. Paps had always loved the few VHSes of cartoons they'd scrounged from the dump.
'You're being too obvious,' Paps said, once Dust lingered on the case for Lilo and Stitch. 'Your ex is gonna figure it out.'
Maybe. But still. It was one of Dust's favorites, and it'd been ages since he'd seen it last. He pulled the case out from between the others and stared at the illustration on the front, the happy family surfing.
"Decided yet?" Horror asked, popping in.
Dust didn't startle, he didn't, but the hoodie still draped over his shoulders almost fell off. Right, he still had that. He shucked it off and handed it and the DVD to Horror. More like thrust then both upon him, really, but he felt self-conscious.
Horror stared at the case for a long moment with something akin to longing, maybe, and Dust worried he'd given himself away, but if Paps liked animated films, it would only make sense for a swap to as well, right?
Thankfully, Horror shook himself out of it. "Good choice," was what he said, kneeling down to get it set up.
Yet again left with nothing to do, Dust settled himself into the armchair that sat next to the couch. He even yoinked the blanket that was folded up next to it, thick and pleasant to the touch. He left the slippers on the floor and pulled his feet up, bundling himself up with the last few sips of his cocoa while Horror navigated the DVD menu with no small amount of grunting when the remote didn't cooperate fully.
A wonderful smell started wafting from the kitchen soon enough, and then it must've been fifteen minutes, because Crop came in holding a pair of large plates.
"Delivery!" he announced, beaming like the sun itself. Dust almost forgot all about the pizza as he watched the genuine joy on his face.
He set Dust's creation onto the small side table (after clearing it of the few old newspapers) and the other onto the actual coffee table for Horror.
Horror caught him before he could disappear back into the kitchen. "What about... the tip?" he asked, pulling him closer.
"What about it?"
Horror leaned down to kiss him and a pang of jealousy hit Dust right in the SOUL. He wanted to look away, but found himself unable to, as if forced to witness their love.
'That used to be you,' Paps scoffed, as if Dust didn't know.
Crop giggled and swatted at Horror playfully. "How generous..."
Horror grinned and grabbed a slice of his pizza, happily munching away, oblivious to Dust's internal disappointment. Crop fetched his own pizza and settled next to his mate on the couch, shoulder to shoulder and all but cuddling.
He shot Dust an apologetic(?) glance, but he couldn't take watching them any longer and firmly glued his eyelights to the TV screen, even if it was still on the menu.
Someone hit the play button and Dust finally allowed himself to grab a slice and promptly almost spilled molten hot pineapple and cheese all over himself. An entire can was maybe a bit too much for a single pizza, but when the taste hit his conjured tongue, he didn't care. It was delicious.
The opening scene of the movie felt like home, the pizza was great, and he was warm and cozy enough that it was easy enough not to worry about the others cuddling not five feet away from him.
He got halfway thought the pizza and maybe a third of the way through the movie before the exhaustion caught up with him and he passed out right there, curled up against one of the armrests.