Relying on Illusions

Summary: A follow-up of 'Ib All Alone'. Ib didn't want to believe that Garry was gone.

Ib glanced around as Garry led her back up the dark stairs, back to the scrapbook world. "Garry," her crimson eyes fell on their joined hands, "are you sure you know where the exit is?"

His hand tightened on hers for a second as she waited for his response. She hoped he did. Ib was growing weary because of the constant fear that another piece of art would attack her. She missed her parents dearly and knew that they had to be worrying about her. All in all, she missed the normalcy of the real life.

Slowly, Garry stopped, kneeling down to her level. She took in his kind, violet eyes, full of sympathy. "I'm sorry, Ib," he murmured. The nine-year-old held his hand in both of hers, dread creeping up her spine. "I think... I think there's no way out."

Ib bit her lip as tears filled her vision, her grasp tightening as she tried not to cry. "T-then what do we do now?" she asked.

Garry frowned slightly. "It'll be okay, Ib. Don't cry," he soothed, using his free hand to rub away a rolling tear. "We'll find out what to do later. For now, let's find somewhere safe to rest; you look exhausted."

The little girl nodded, hardly making a sound as he scooped her up into his arms and continued walking. She rested her chin on his shoulder, closing her eyes as she pressed her nose against the fabric of his coat. The faint scent of cigarettes was much better than the smell of chalk in the world they were trapped in. Strangely, the skin of his neck felt cool as she rested against him. She disregarded it in favor of falling asleep.

Mary's fallen ashes were swept away, placed inside an empty vase on a pedestal. At it's base, three blue dolls sat against it, their red gazes sad as they peered up at the makeshift urn. The little girl that played with them was gone but not forgotten.

Their heads turned when they heard heavy footsteps thud up the stairs. They waited in anticipation as a headless mannequin appeared. It wore the strange human's coat and in it's arms, covering the bold blue tie it always wore, it carried a little girl.

The blue dolls squeaked as they ran up to the mannequin, trying to reach up with tiny claws to grab the child. The model just continued walking to the end of the room, ignoring the nuisances at his feet as he knelt to prop the girl against the wall, heedless of the glass from Mary's portrait cutting into her thighs and drawing blood. The dolls crowded curiously around her, one of them jumping onto her lap.

Ib woke at the sudden movement and smiled to find a cute white bunny sitting on her. Her hand slid against the downy fur, making her giggle as it sniffed her. Her crimson eyes went to the two other rabbits on either side of her legs, then to Garry crouching in front of her.

"See, Ib?" Garry smiled wide as he patted one of the bunnies' head. "We'll be fine here for now."

She nodded slowly and returned her attention to the animal on her lap. When Garry moved to sit beside her, she leaned on his side, falling back asleep.

"Oh, honey, look at this one," a woman called as she looked at one of the many paintings on the wall. She stared at the little girl in the portrait, shattered glass surrounding her with blood pooling around her legs. Despite the obvious painful seat she had taken, her face looked peaceful as she slept. It made her more at ease with the abrupt style that Guertena painted.

"It looks pretty realistic," her husband remarked as he stood beside her. "'Ib All Alone', who's 'Ib'?"

"I don't know," the wife hummed, her ruby-red gaze observing the painting more thoroughly. "She looks similar to The Lady in Red. Just imagine: Guertena painting a child, then followed up by painting her a woman..."

The man rolled his eyes as he looked down at his brochure. "I think that's a bit too outrageous for an old artist. The pamphlet says that Guertena denied ever using a model, anyhow. If that's true, he really is an amazing artist."

Chuckling, the woman moved over to the next painting of a man in misery. The couple moved on to admire each work before they finally left together, unaware of the struggles that the museum hid in another world.

A/N: I didn't want to leave the Ib fandom so soon, so I revisited the game. It's pretty short but I wanted to publish something on this account. Personally, this is what I think happened next after that ending with 'Ib All Alone'.

Thanks for reading,

VV13