Against the Odds (A Crossmare Fanfiction)

Needles

⚠️iMpOrTaNt⚠️

Aha so I know I've made these warnings before where I go off on holiday and say tHeRe MiGhT bE nO sErViCe and there always is, well like this time there might not be Jdhzhsjsjxhsjsj. I'm going on some trip and every time I've gone to similar things like this, the camps never have service. Like never. There could be a chance this time, but I'm not sure.

So like seriously, if there's no updates for a week then u h, sit tight :'D

Also I just fainted watching my cat get an injection lmao--

Okie that's all sorry

❤️💜And 24k one more to my goal ahahahah💜❤️

Nightmare pushed apart bushes and branches, panting heavily as he ran. No one was following him, he was sure of that. But he still felt the need to run.

He'd left Dream crouched over Killer's dying body in the arena, physically unable to shoot his brother. He felt weak for it, having been so confident before that he'd kill him without an ounce of hesitation. But now he'd seen that he was stupid thinking such a thing.

A sudden cannon shot rang out and Nightmare winced, pausing at the sound of his Brother's frustrated scream. So Killer was dead. He knew that for sure now. Only six Tributes left... Four to kill.

Those were really nice odds.

He hoped that Reaper would go out for revenge and Kill Dust. And maybe if he was lucky, Dust or Reaper would kill Finn as well. Then there's only be Dream and Reaper left alive. Yes, those were the two Tributes he'd been worried about from the start and potentially the strongest ones left excluding himself. But with Cross back up to strength and by his side they could have a really good chance of winning.

Pushing on through the bracken, his mind started wandered to Cross and started forming panicked scenarios of him nearly reaching the cave only to hear a cannon shot sound. He'd have been late, and all because he fussed around with Dream for too long. If he'd just ran a little faster, or just left their District bag and ran without that faffle of dropping it etc.

And then as if summoned from his thoughts, a sound rang out that made Nightmare's blood turn cold. A cannon shot.

"Cross?!" He started sprinting, tripping and tumbling over brambles and ferns and his arms getting scratched to hell as he batted all the leafy obstacles out of his way. His breaths came out in harsh jagged pants and he found he couldn't swallow, his throat too dry.

He stumbled through the ashy remains of the forest in record time, his ankles got burnt to death by all the hot ash and coals but he couldn't care less, his soul thundering in his chest faster than the time he'd decided to be an absolute retard and kiss the poor boy.

Leaping over a fallen tree he nearly snapped his bloody wrist, slamming it into a branch and sending bolts of pain all through his body. He clenched his teeth together tightly, a loud hiss of pain resulting as he forced himself to keep going.

After what felt like an eternity, the silhouette of the cave and river came into view and Nightmare slowed to a jog, not wanting to trip and fuck everything up by snapping a neck or some cliché horror movie shit.

Ducking under the vines, he dropped to the floor of the cave and fell unceremoniously in a crumpled heap as his tired legs gave out beneath him. God that hurt.

"Cross?!" He whipped round to face where the he'd left the smol, his breaths coming out in panicked wheezes.

Cross was still curled up limply in the corner, the sleeping bag pulled up over his shoulders and his face contorted in pain. He was slumped over, looking like he wasn't breathing.