One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Pirates - 4

Cross would forever deny the way he scrambled into the cabin ahead, nor would he ever admit to the panic attack he had after.

-

Cross peeked out of the small storage room he'd locked himself into in his moment of weakness. He scrubbed at his cheeks, praying that there was no evidence of his little episode on his face. He'd never live it down.

He pulled the door closed as he left, scanning the room briefly and relaxing as he found it empty. With a sigh, he stepped fully out of the darkness and hurried to the stairs, making his way down to where the food was stored and cooked. He wasn't actually sure where that was, but he'd heard that all he had to do was 'follow his nose.'

This side of the ship was quiet, unnervingly so. The deeper he went, the worse he felt about the place, his recently calmed panic rising again at the darkening hallways. He already hated it down here. Gripping his arm, Cross rounded the corner quickly and came face-to-chest with Horror. Cross yelped, jumping back, but he didn't make it far. Large hands clamps on his shoulders, rooting him in place, and Horror glared at him with the angriest expression Cross had ever seen on him.

"...come with.. me." Swallowing back his fright, Cross followed obediently. He was led deeper into the heart of the ship, where the sounds of the water rushing past was louder. Horror grunted for him to keep up, pushing Cross ahead of him. He stumbled, cursing softly, but didn't protest. Up ahead, a set of double doors greeted them, warm light shining through the cracks beneath them. Horror took the lead again, pushing into the room with a muttered comment.

Cross jogged up to the doors, catching one as he stepped in after Horror. He stopped dead in the doorway, pausing to take in the sight. Aside from Nightmare's weird office place, this was the biggest room on the ship that Cross had seen so far. Tables and chairs were scattered about and a heavy pot of something hung over flames in the far side of the room. Wait. Cross blanched. Fire?? In a ship made of wood????

"..i know what... you're thinkin'. S'magic fire.... don't burn what we don' want it to."

Horror drew his attention from the fire to the small counter nearby. It reminded Cross of the bar, the way it was built. He glanced at the fire one last time and slipped around a set of stools to join up with Horror. A bowl of something warm and good smelling was shoved into his hands, a wooden spoon handed to him as well.

"eat," Horror deadpanned, and who was Cross to say no? He dipped the spoon into the stew, taking a taste test. The flavor was overpowering, his magic lurching in warning. Frowning, he set the spoon down and picked up the bowl, bringing to his mouth and drinking from it directly. Spices and small vegetables alike burned at his throat, though he held back the coughs and kept drinking. Droplets somehow managed to seep into the still healing holes of his lower jaw, sinking into the space where his teeth used to be and setting a new pain alight.

He didn't get a chance to even wince about it, his wince halted as he gasped instead, the bowl wrenched from his hands. Miraculously, none of the stew spilled as Horror hissed at him, forcefully cramming the spoon back into Cross's hand.

"slow. you'll get.. sick." Cross had been drinking it like that because he didn't want to get sick. Only, at the anger on Horror's face, Cross held his tongue and took a spoonful of soup. The flavor settled heavily on his tongue again, the thick broth feeling almost solid as he tried to swallow it down.

Cross choked, nausea rearing its ugly head, and ended up spitting the soup everywhere. He coughed out an apology, his head turned away to at least prevent any vomit from getting on Horror if he actually threw up.

"Damn." Cross jerked, snapping his head up. Dust leaned against the counter beside Horror, his face amused as he watched the pitiful scene.

"Having some trouble there, bud?" Cross sputtered, shame heating his face.