Chains of Negativity

Chapter 20

Ink laid on his tummy, colouring like a five year old, but he was getting the results of a talented artist. Nightmare was sipping on tea, in his big comfy chair while reading some book. Ink was sure it was romance, but didn't wanna ask since Nightmare was still mad at him for dirtying his clothing yesterday in the gardens. He had already tried talking to him-he woke up and forgot what happened yesterday and thought everything was fine. But he was met with screaming in return and learned not to do that very quickly.

He felt bad, he didn't want Nightmare to be mad at him. But no matter how he tried to apologise or say anything he was shut down by harsh, loud words. So he started drawing, he started trying to figure out a way to apologise without getting screamed at. Ink wasn't sure how else to apologise to someone without throwing himself to the floor and begging for forgiveness. It was what he always did with Dream. But Nightmare just shoved him away with his foot when he tried that.

So he did the only thing he really knew how to do. He was hoping that the little, quick drawing would be enough to make him not angry anymore. It was good, obviously, Ink was a good artist. Even with the shitty crayons he was given he tried to blend them together and make it look all pretty.

Ink smiled when he was done, looking down at the pretty drawing he made of him and Nightmare holding hands. It was simple-stick figures-and looked like a child made it. But it still looked good. He toddled over to Nightmare and slipped it onto his nightstand, letting Nightmare take it. He looked up at him with an expectant and slightly worried smile as Nightmare looked it over, but relaxed when expression softened. Nightmare studied the drawing for a moment before smiling briefly and picking Ink up.

Ink was placed on Nightmare's lap, wiggling his...feet-or what was left of them. He was a happy little man. Just a little guy.

"This is cute, baby. Do you have anything else?" Nightmare asked.

Ink immediately lit up and took Nightmare-faster than he could walk, so he kept stumbling-over to the Blanket Palace and began showing off his little paintings and crafts. It wasn't a lot, he had very limited materials to work with, so he just played around with and crafted with whatever he could find. Nightmare sat back and watched the toddler sized skeleton get excited over his work. He thought it was cute.

"Are there any other types of crafts you're interested in?" Nightmare asked when Ink finally stopped excitedly blabbering over his art.

"Well, I've always wanted to try friendship bracelets?" Ink suggested. "Dream never really let me, but I'd like to."

"Then how about I see what I can do. Maybe I can get you something to make them with. Some colourful string or something like that." Nightmare said.

"Would you really??" Ink gasped.

"Yeah," He sighed and got up.

Nightmare got up and left Blanket Palace. He watched Ink look sad as he left, but completely forgot about his sadness and went back to happily drawing. Nightmare sighed and left the room, making sure to lock it so that Ink can't escape. That scene was a little too happy for Nightmare, Ink was a little too happy. So instead of sitting there and having to deal with him he went off to Cross's room to hopefully get some more negativity.

"Tell more more," Nightmare said, barging in.

"Tell you what?" Cross asked, startled.

"About Dream," Nightmare sat down.

"Oh. . . Uhm. Well. The Box." He said, twiddling his fingers.

"Explain to me again what The Box was again."

"The Box was a small white box, that Dream used to torture Ink with."

"Explain to me how that is torture?"

"Ink afraid of white and being left alone."

"And what would Dream do to you?"

"Well, he didn't understand that I wasn't like a God. Well-with what I need. He deprived me of food and sleep because he didn't understand I needed it unlike him and Ink."

"And that's why you slept for two days straight once you got here?"

Cross nodded and leaned against Nightmare, who allowed it. Talking about Dream took a lot out of Cross. It scared him. Nightmare liked the negativity, but he did still-surprisingly-care about Cross. Even if he would never admit that.

"You really care about Ink, huh?" Nightmare said.

"I... yeah I do." Cross said.

"Well... I don't think you're the only one in this castle that feels that way," he sighed, "You're not the only one who seems to deeply care about him in some strange way."

Cross snapped his head towards his boss, but didn't dare say a word. He was afraid of getting slammed into a wall. Saying anything stupid, jeering, jokey, whatever was not a good idea. With anyone else in the house it would be fine, but with Nightmare being snarky was a surefire way to get stabbed by a tentacle. He laid his head back down onto Nightmare's shoulder.

"I think you two would be nice together," Cross said quietly.

"You think so?" Nightmare said with a chuckle.

"But you need to stop hurting him. He doesn't like it," Cross stated firmly.

Nightmare rolled his eyes, of course Ink didn't like his limbs being taken or crushed. Of course he didn't like being tortured, that was the bloody point. To get negativity out of him.

"I need him to be in pain and suffering."

"Do you? or are you afraid?"

"Okay. Get the fuck out," He said, choosing not to throw him into a wall.

Cross was stunned for a second, as they were in his room, but he wasted no more time in leaving his own room.

Nightmare stayed and stewed in Cross' room, but only for a little while. He did eventually leave and storm over to his own room like a toddler having a tantrum. He wasn't sure whether it was Cross's audacity to say things like that to him or the words themselves that got him so angry, but something was pissing him off.