A/N: After the brief span of 1 million years, I have finished a oneshot. Just bouncing around in Lou's head a little while. Kind of a character study... sort of... thing? Well, you'll see XD. I don't know where this idea came from.. Somebody please kill me (lol).

--

It was dark. That was the first thing Lou noticed.

He sat up. His head ached, no, scratch that, his head was pounding.

Shadowy figures loomed over him. It was too dark to tell what they were. His back was pressed against something soft but firm.

He peered into the darkness. Where... Am I?

The last thing he remembered was sweeping up the outdoor area where he used to train the new arrivals. The area where those uglies now trained said newcomers.

The thought made him fume. In one fell swoop, demoted to janitor.

His lip curled in disgust at the thought of the pests that had turned his world topsy-turvy. Uglydolls. Short, fat, lumpy, asymmetrical, some with compound eyes and limbs. Everything that a doll shouldn't be. There was a time when he could have had them all disposed of with the flick of his wrist. Oh yes, in fact, once upon a time he'd had the power to have anything he desired. The dolls wouldn't argue, why would they? They adored him. And rightfully so. He was perfect. His word was law.

Before those things decided to make an appearance, he had been doing just fine for himself. His name alone made dolls tremble. And when he wanted something? You better believe he got it! And such power, such intoxicating power! He'd had the world in his palm! Life had been perfect!

Well, that wasn't quite true...

He shoved the thought away. So alright, things weren't precisely perfect, per se, but at least it was better than where he was now. He spent all day with that mechanical mutt breathing down his neck, cleaning up messes and spills in the new Institute and-- he shuddered to think the name-- Uglyville. And when the daily grind was all done with, what did he have to look forward to? The trudge back to the supply shed, where he would toss and turn for a few hours before the whole thing started over again.

Which brings me back to the current predicament.

He focused his gaze, but it was no use. It was still too dark to make anything out but the most basic of shapes.

He was propped up against some sort of wall. A soft wall? Yes, a soft wall covered in fabric all the way up to the high ceiling. It might've been a trick of the light (or lack of, really), Lou thought he spied the same material stretched over the expanse above him. No, he was sure of it, both the walls and ceiling were covered in some sort of lining. With no small amount of irritation, he realized that the seams where the wall met the ceiling were all slightly askew. If there was ever any doubt that those uglies were behind this...

Experimentally, he pressed a hand against the wall. It sank deep into the soft, cushy padding that seemed to be covering every inch of the place. When he removed it, the wall left an impression of his hand, very slowly returning to it original shape.

Did they put me in some sort of asylum?

He traced a finger lightly over the surface. The soft, nubby material made him reminise about the first time he'd met Ox. Lou had never seen anything like the rabbit-like doll before that day. He had been so much softer than the rest of the pretty dolls.

Lou didn't like to be reminded of those days. He scowled, now liking this strange place even less.

His eyes were beginning to become accustomed to the dimness. At random, he picked out one of the looming figures and squinted at it, hard. Ignoring the fact that he was probably giving himself frown lines. Not that there was anybody besides himself to care at this point anyway. Slowly, the shadows shuffled together to form... a go-cart with four flat tires.

What the heck?

Not exactly what a doll would expect to see in your average asylum. Though, now that Lou's eyes were more adjusted, the place was starting to more resemble an abandoned warehouse. The mysterious figures looked to be nothing more than piles upon piles of clutter. Come to think of it, rather than a warehouse, it was more reminiscent of a junkyard. But an indoor junkyard? Or perhaps a warehouse after a tornado had blown through.

That was more likely. If his being here was the work of the uglydolls (and he was certain it was), they wouldn't be able to walk into a room full of junk and resist playing with it.

He smirked slightly at the earlier comparison to a tornado. Uglydolls could be classified as a natural disaster by themselves.

He hefted himself to his feet, venturing past the cart in search of anything that resembled an exit. Getting around was more difficult than he'd anticipated, and he noted with some bewilderment that the floors were also padded.

He managed to struggle a few steps beyond the closest pile before his foot hooked on something and sent him sprawling. If there was one upside to all this padding, it was that he landed as easily as if he'd hit a mattress. He even bounced a couple of times before settling in. He twisted to see what had tripped him up.

A rock. That's all, just a lager-than-average rock laying in the middle of the floor.

I say again: What the heck?

He eyed the thing as he stepped around it.

He had better luck a few piles down the way. Well, not better luck if that meant finding something that might actually help him, but better at giving him a clue to where he might be.

It was a wooden crate, the kind oranges were packaged in, and it was filled to its brim with oily cogs, springs, and screws. The sight caused a memory to click into place in Lou's mind.

Perfection is-- or rather, Perfection was-- a big place. Even before the infamous merger with Uglyville. There was no way that all of the equipment needed to maintenance an entire town could fit in that tiny supply shed. Only about ten percent of supplies were stored in the shed, the other ninety were kept in a much larger storage facility underneath the Gauntlet. Not to mention charging stations for the bots, spare parts for all the moving parts in the Gauntlet, the list went on and on. When he was leader, only he and the robots knew the place existed. There was no reason for anybody else to. But with Ox being declared the new leader, it was only natural that eventually he would become aware of it.

Maybe the dolls had decided he was too big of a problem for them to deal with and decided to put him in storage. Where the defective bots go.

He continued on for what felt like hours, passing everything from cleaning supplies, to a small mountain of packaged food, to spare heads for the robot baby, and every conceivable thing in between. What he couldn't seem to find anywhere was an end to the warehouse, let alone an exit.

In hindsight, it would've been smarter to stick close to the wall. By following the perimeter, he was bound to run into something eventually.

He squinted, peering into the dim horizon. The endless stretch of warehouse continued on for an unbelievable distance. Lou couldn't even see the end of it. His best option now would be to double back until he'd reached his starting point and begin again from there.

He set off in the direction he'd come from, trekking onward for another ten minutes until he reached a hulking skeleton of a prop-propeller biplane, rotting away on top of a stack of lumber.

Lou paused. I don't remember passing a broken plane on my way here... Was it possible he'd gotten himself turned around? Was he even still heading for the wall?

He looked left. He looked right. More of the same scenery for what seemed to be miles.

...Exactly where had he come from again?

Abruptly, he realized that no direction looked familiar.

The room swam around Lou. He felt odd, off somehow. Like something in the universe was terribly wrong and he couldn't pin his finger down on what it was.

Air. He needed air. He couldn't breathe. He gasped, filling his lungs with as much as they could hold, so much that if he tried to fill them any fuller they would burst.

Not enough. I need oxygen. I need oxygen!

In reality he was taking in too much oxygen, the excess making his chest muscles spasm painfully.

He looked at his hands. They were trembling. His eyes danced around the room, he couldn't focus. His body was buzzing with anxiety, with an anxiety that made no logical sense. His fear was disproportionate to the situation, he knew that. But he couldn't get himself to--

"Calm down," he muttered to himself. "Calm down. You're fine. You're fine," he repeated the phrase over and over like a mantra, just to give his brain something to focus on. "You'refineyou'refineyou'refineyou'refineyou'refineyou'refineyou'refine--"

He did an about-face, sprinting as hard as his body could push itself. The cushy floor made it difficult to move. More than once he fell to his knees, only to scramble to his feet and continue running. Relief washed over him when he could once again sight that broken down cart alongside the wall.

When he finally managed to decelerate his rapid heartbeat, he placed his hands on his hips, feeling a little embarrassed and a lot frustrated with himself. He was back to square one. What now?

He could set out again, though the amount of time he'd already wasted on that tact made the notion unappealing.

He frowned. Okay, let's think this through. Whoever left him in this place got him inside somehow. And if there was a way in, that meant he could use the same way to get out. If he could find it.

His eyes fell on one of the misshapen heaps, and he was hit with a rush of inspiration. If he could get himself to the top, maybe he could spot a way out. It was worth a shot, at least. Right now, it was all he had to work with.

He scrambled up onto the cart, climbing all the way up to the roller bars. Having the easy part out of the way with no problem, he gingerly stepped up from the bars onto a nearby pile of junk. The pile groaned, not sure whether to hold Lou's weight. It gave beneath him and he slid a little.

Lou hesitated. The stacks weren't nearly as stable as he'd imagined them to be. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, they were filled with determination. He could do this. This would be where all those days-- all those years-- of doll training would pay off. He nodded to himself, a flash of his old, cocky personality coming back. After all of his experience dodging spills? He could probably climb this thing with his eyes shut.

Carefully, he picked his way up the side of the hill. Being fleet of foot, he was able to feel out which areas would make for firm footholds and dance around which area would not. It almost came natural to him. He was nearly to the top already.

But even someone as agile as Lou had a tough time navigating such treacherous territory. The problem was, it wasn't just loose, it was also uneven and unpredictable, and Lou wasn't used to dealing with uneven and unpredictable things. One of his footholds slipped, forcing Lou to scrabble for purchase. The sudden movement sent shock waves through the entire pile. It swayed; Lou froze. The quaking stilled, and Lou let out the breath he'd been holding.

So far, so good. He turned his attention back to the summit. You've got this.

...Until he didn't. The stack kept its precarious balance for a hot second before crumbling to pieces. Debris started to slide out from under Lou. He shifted his weight to correct himself but over compensated, dislodging a key piece that was keeping the items around it from coming loose. The whole unstable tower practically disintigrated from beneath him. Lou got caught in the tide of shoes, disgarded books, cardboard boxes and the like as they tumbled to the floor. Part of him was grateful that nobody he knew was there to see their former leader half-buried in garbage.

He'd at least expected a soft landing like the last time, but pain bit into his back as he hit the floor. As he rubbed it gingerly, his hand brushed against something hard. Frowning, he gripped the offending object, recognizing it as soon as he felt the weight required to lift it.

That stupid rock. He scowled down at the item in his hands. A one in a million chance that he would fall in the one spot that was directly over it. He turned it over in his hands. It was heavy, but he had no trouble holding it. Back when he was still the leader, he ran through the doll training course every day to keep himself sharp. That, and because there wasn't much else to do. Of course, being forced into manual labor hadn't hurt his muscle tone either.

In frustration he heaved the rock at the nearest wall, then watched it ricochet far away. It landed harmlessly, the padding absorbing the blow to the point where it didn't even make a thud. It was highly unsatisfying.

Growling, Lou kicked the spot where it had struck. His foot bounced right off.

Anger welled up inside of him. Before he knew it, he was flying at the annoyance, windmilling his fists as he struck blindly at this wall, this physical manifestation of all that was wrong with the world.

I should be out there, leading those brainless dolts!

Punch, kick, kick.

Dolls are supposed to worship the ground I walk on! Can't they see I'm perfect?!

Punch, punch, kick, punch.

If it wasn't for them--

Kick, punch.

If it wasn't for HER--

Punch, kick, kick, punch.

His face was getting red. He was sweating, it was so unbecoming. He didn't care. All of his anger about being a prototype, about dolls leaving him, about Ox's betrayal, the arrival of the uglydolls and his fall from grace; all the anger he'd managed for years to keep locked away deep inside himself chose that moment to bubble to the surface.

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" He burst out. There was no sign that anybody on the outside had heard him. Against the padded surroundings, his voice came out harsh, ragged. He tried not to think about how pitiful it sounded to his own ears. "IT'S NOT FAIR! WHY ONLY ME?! WHY... only.. me.." he panted as he began to lose steam.

Meanwhile, he had failed to even make a dent in the wall. It still stood, just as strong and impenetrable and slightly asymmetrical as ever, gently mocking his existence.

All at once, the realization crested in his mind. All this padding... It's not to protect me from hurting myself. It's so I can't damage the walls.

The full implications settled like a weight on Lou's shoulders.

To keep me from getting out.

The panicky feelings were coming back. He felt cold. Like he'd gotten a shot of ice in his polyfill. Cold, and numb, and not okay.

He slumped against the soft surface. It cradled him as his weight caused him to sink in deeper. Warmth seemed to radiating from some internal source. It felt nice, but Lou knew better than to relax. This wall was here to trap him. It was an annoyance. A hindrance. He didn't like it, it reminded him too much of other soft and warm things from his past that Lou had thought he could place his trust in.

Lou scoffed. Boy, had he been wrong.

After finding out he was a prototype, he swore he'd never cry again. Never again would he reduce himself to feeling so fragile, so helpless. But after Ox, he'd broken his word. He'd cried.

He sighed. All the memories that had been trapped in that little box of anger inside him rubbed raw against his nerves. Memories he'd always had. Just because they were stuffed away inside him didn't mean he couldn't remember them all this time, no, quite the opposite. They were his constant companions; he couldn't rid himself of them. But for a lot of years, he'd been able to do things to keep himself from fully feeling them. Stay as busy as possible. Exploit every tiny bit of control he had for everything it was worth. Soak up the adoration of the multitudes.

All that was ancient history. Even the anger he'd used to hold his feelings an arm's length away was close to expended. Frankly, at that moment, he was just too tired to stay angry. He let the memories drift through his tired mind, too exhausted to fight those either.

He'd recognized Ox for what he was right off the bat; he was very obviously a reject. Too short. Too fat. Asymmetrical. Missing an eye. His tongue lolled out as if it was too long to all fit in his mouth. What child would possibly want a doll that strayed as far from what the factory told them to love as Ox did?

The pretty dolls that had been there in that generation had been so confused as to why Lou bonded so closely with such an ugly creature. They never did know the real reason: that when Lou caught sight of Ox, his heart leapt. Lou had never felt so happy in all his life to see a mistake.

It was simple. The curse of being a prototype was twofold: despite being the textbook definition of perfection, he would never be loved by a child. And no matter how close he got to other dolls, in the end, he was doomed to be alone in life.

The first part would never change. He was a prototype, there was no getting around it.

But, seeing Ox, Lou thought maybe...

Maybe...

Maybe he'd finally found somebody who wouldn't leave him. The two of them, they couldn't go to the Big World, but they would have each other. Somebody to share the day with. Somebody to let past his defenses. And yeah, as sadistic as it sounded, somebody who was in the same miserable boat Lou was in. Who knew the dull, wrenching pain of the fact that there would be no human child for them, ever.

But it wasn't meant to be. Ox had begged, pleaded, for a chance to train for the Gauntlet. Lou had been shocked to discover there was no rule stating ugly dolls couldn't compete.

Lou tried to make him see reason. Make him see that wanting something really badly wouldn't make it happen. He just didn't belong in the Big World. When that didn't work, he changed tactics. Sure, it was no Big World, but Perfection wasn't all that bad, was it? But Ox was unflappable. Said he'd never be satisfied until he'd finally left for the Big World.

Until he'd left Lou.

So Lou'd had him recycled. Not like it mattered. Either way, Ox was gone forever while Lou was still stuck in Perfection. No, that wasn't true. Strange as it sounded, at least by killing Ox, it meant Lou was alone by his own choice. Maybe it hurt just a little less to throw something away than to have it ripped out of his clenched fingers. Who would know that his decision would eventually backfire in such a big way?

All that just so that Ox wouldn't leave you alone. Well guess what? You're still alone. More alone than ever. He looked at the piles of abandoned, broken down junk extending in front of him as far as the eye could see. And probably for good this time.

What he could only describe as despair washed over him. He felt the urge to wrap his arms around himself, as if that was the only thing holding him together.

Get ahold of yourself! He scolded.

Why? It's not like anybody was around to see him.

He sank to his knees, suddenly feeling very small.

And he broke his word again. Slowly at first, just a few tears. Still trying to keep it together. Then violently, heaving sobs. It was worse than the day he'd killed Ox (or thought he had), it was so much worse because now he was alone, well and truly alone. It had finally happened, what he knew would happen from the first day of his existence. Everybody had left. Everybody. Friends, admirers, even his worst enemies. And he was what was left.

He cried and cried and cried until there were no more tears, until all that was left was his own raspy voice heaving dry sobs. He didn't care anymore. He was too tired to care. Too tired to exist. It had been years since he'd felt this miserable.

Had it really been so long since his last breakdown? The sensation of crying felt strange to him. He felt hollow, numb. As if he'd lost a part of him self permanently.

Weariness seeped through his body. The smallest movements were seeming like too much work. He just wanted to sleep. Sleeping meant not thinking. That's what he wanted. To not think. Thinking was pain.

As if his thoughts had been read, when he looked to his left he spotted a thick blanket draped over the top of some miscellaneous junk. He clawed at it, not willing to budge from his position. He'd long since lowered himself to the floor.

The same warmth oozing through the walls also rose up from beneath the floor. Lou cocooned himself in the blanket's fleecy softness and shut his eyes against reality, at least for a little while.

--

When he awoke, he was in a better frame of mind, even if his eyes were mostly swollen shut.

He didn't make a move to get up even after he was completely awake, instead lying still between the soft blanket and the soft floor.

A headache still pulsed in his temples, and his body still ached at its core. But an unnatural calm had settled over him. He had heard of out of body experiences before, he briefly wondered if that was what he was feeling right then. Or maybe he'd merely used up his emotions to the point where there was nothing left.

It this what my life has come to?

A brief moment of clarity. Bursting the fog in his head like a bubble. It was as if he was looking at his life from an outside perspective. The thought hung in the air as if he'd spoken it aloud. Maybe he had, he couldn't be sure.

Even if he managed to get himself out (and that was looking more and more like a big if as time passed), what did he have to return to? His friendless life working day in and day out at a job he hated.

Where have you got to go from here? Even the uglydolls had a chance to improve their own lives.

Somehow they'd done it, too. He had to hand it to them, they were nothing if not resourceful. And perseverant. They had pulled themselves up by their bootstraps from the lowest of the low. He hadn't made it easy on them, either. They all had to fight tooth and nail for every inch they traveled closer to their dreams. That took moxie.

Lou cringed. Moxie. Moxy. He remembered his old friend's penchant for literal naming.

He flipped onto his back, gazing up at the cattywampus stitches zigzagging across the ceiling. Imperfection. That was what they were calling their new hodgepodge city, wasn't it? The grand experiment seemed to be going well for them. Certainly no worse than it was going for him.

Perfection didn't get you very far, did it? All those adoring fans. Even when it was going well, it's not like it ever filled that hole inside of you.

Why not try making nice with the uglydolls? It's not like things can get any worse than they are now.

A new emotion filled him. One so foreign to him that it took him a few moments to identify what it was: peace. He felt at peace. For the first time in years, possibly for the first time in his life, he wasn't worried about anything.

He couldn't put a finger on precisely why he was no longer worried. The sources of his panic were still very much present in his life. For one, he was still stuck in what might be a makeshift prison. But he was overcome with the sensation that things would surely get better from now on.

Ah, is this what optimism feels like? Disgusting. He laughed quietly, the absence of the weight that had been sitting on his chest leaving him fairly giddy.

He shook his head at himself. Talk about moodswings...

He closed his eyes. The urgency that had gripped him by the throat before had fled. He didn't remember ever feeling so calm in his life, right now he just wanted to take advantage of the moment. I'll find a way out of here eventually. Like I said earlier, if there's a way in, there must be a way out. It's only a matter of time.

He pulled the blanket around him tight, beginning once again to drift off. He yawned deeply.

And when I do... Maybe... Maybe I'll treat those uglydolls a little better...

--

Lou sat up. For some reason, his heart was racing. Scrubbing the sleep from his eyes, he groggily inspected his surroundings. The place was unchanged from when he first lay down. What woke me up?

It's barely a second before his question answers itself. The ground, the ceiling, everything around him begins to rumble. The heaps trembled and Lou leapt to his feet so he could dodge out of the way of falling debris.

What now?!

An earthquake? Had Perfection ever experienced an earthquake before? It was all within a man-made environment, the climate was always perfect! Though, he didn't know if he could say the same for Uglyville.

He didn't have time to hash it out. A blinding flash of light caused him to stumble. When the spots cleared from Lou's eyes, the go-cart he'd been using as a landmark was gone.

It wasn't taken through the wall. Not through the floor, or even the ceiling. It couldn't have been, the surroundings looked exactly as they had before, sans one go-cart. It was as if it had just vanished. Evaporated.

The rumbling and shaking increased tenfold. Lou backed away from where the cart had been, speechless. He didn't give himself time to think. His body was running purely on reflex as he sprinted away.

Falling, everything was falling. Suddenly the phrase the sky is falling didn't seem so silly. In such an enclosed space, it would've been easy to believe the whole world was tumbling to the ground. Lou barely avoided being clocked by random knickknacks several times as he ran. Thankfully, he had the ability to stop and turn on a dime.

That same blinding light continued to flash behind him, over and over, like lightning. Objects surrounding him began to disappear as he passed them.

Lou felt something roughly grab his shoulder, and everything went white.

--

"I got nothin'," Babo shrugged. Lou groaned, falling back against the pavement.

Objects littered the area around them: a broken helicopter, a pair of skis, a trampoline, the cart with flat tires, and so on and so on.

"Babo," Wage raised an eyebrow, or she would have if she had them, "Exactly why did you have Lou in your pocket?"

Babo squinted at Lou, confused. "I don't... remember putting you in there..."

Wage crossed her arms. "Well, it's not like he got in through the back door! You must've put'im in there sometime."

"Let's see..." Babo screwed his eyes shut, concentrating, "The last time I saw Lou.. I was helping you guys clean up after classes..."

The other dolls began to speak up at once.

"Well, this explains why we haven't seen you around for a while," Ox said.

"¡Qué susto! Babo, you're a great dude, but I think you need an intervention," Uglydog shook his head in disbelief.

"I wonder what it's like in there," Moxy bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. "Hey, Babo! I wanna try!"

Lucky Bat grimaced. "Err.. I don't think that's such--"

"This is great and all, but might I remind you folks we came to fix the hole in Ox's roof, not to play hide'n'seek with the guy who tried to literally burn us alive," Wage put in, tapping her stubby foot.

Lou's eye twitched. You mean to tell me... That after all of THAT... It turns out I was just stuck in that blundering blob's pocket?! He seethed.

"I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID!" He burst out before storming away in anger.

The uglydolls looked at each other and shrugged.

"So what are we gon' do about Mayor Ox's house?" Wage spoke.

A/N: Well wouldja look at that! It was a 'Babo's pockets' gag the whole time-- *gets shot*

 (x👅x) << lol if you change one character, it's Ox! (⊙👅x)

That moment when you spend forever finishing a oneshot and then you take a step back and realize it's literally just pages of Lou talking to himself. 😅

✨✨So there it is, the finished product!✨✨ Lmk what you think! Tbh, I'm not too sure myself.. I've got more oneshots in the works, but who knows when I'll finish them at this pace lol 😂😂😅.