One-shots [Reqs: 5]

Get up

Ink snickered, "Nervous much?" Error swatted at the shorter's skull and gave Cross a grin. The grin faltered slightly, the air changing, and Error glanced past Cross. "Are you going to wake Killer?" Cross flinched, lowering his gaze sullenly. "Yeah.." Ink's eyelights shifted into a blue square and a dark green tear drop, and Error winced. "I'll go with you-" Cross shook his head, "No.. I've got it." Ink opened his mouth to say something, but Error's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Ink gave Cross an ecouraging smile that was blocked by the now closed door. Cross stepped away from the door, stiffly making his way further into the hall. The air grew stale, dust swirling in the weak sunlight that peeked in through tightly shut curtains. His bones grew tense, shoulders drawn in tight, and a bud of unease bloomed in his soul. Like a knife, discomfort twisted painfully and sharply. Cross passed a dusty table, stopping for a second to swipe a finger through the thick layer of grey. White marble laced with gold. There was a dead rose placed on the surface, it's once silken petals now curled and wrinkled, the red now a vengful black. Cross didn't dare touch it. He lingered at the table, procrastinating, before he shoved his unease and reluctance aside and took the final steps to Killer's bedroom door. There was a thin film of dust covering the red paint.

Distantly, Cross felt the need to gather all the dust to make a snowman. He buried the thought with vigor. He took a deep breath, no doubt filling his nonexistant lungs with dusty air, and raised his hand to knock.

-

Killer's sockets opened with an inaudble creeaak. His phone had died months ago. He wasn't even sure if it worked anymore. He wasn't sure if he even worked anymore. He blinked, slow and painfully. His sockets hurt from being closed so long. Everything hurt from not moving for so long. He was floating. He couldn't feel his body, his bones heavy like lead. His joints were cemented with glue, his mind full of spider webs. He could feel something moving around in his skull.

He blinked again, this time taking in a deep shuddering breath. His chest rattled and groaned in protest. Vaguely, he felt a burning throb in his nonexistant gut. He was hungry. Something broke through the haze. A pain splitting his soul, tearing into his very being with a  spiteful fury. Something slithered into his skull, but without feeling. It was a thought. Not another spider. A thought, one bearing the most precious of names. His jaw burned as he gently mouthed the word. Dream. Like an old computer booting up, his body slowly started back up. His hands twitched, toes curling in his boots. A shiver ran up his body.

Tears sprung into his sockets, slipping out and washing away the dust on his cheeks. The grey droplets left dark spots on his pillow. He mouthed the word again, soul writhing in his chest. Dream. Something stirred in his mind. Something broke free, and suddenly his mind was overflowing with memories. The word started to burn his tongue. His soul shook as he uttered it aloud. "...Dream..." His own voice startled him. It was raspy and weak. He was starkly aware of the thirst knawing at his bones.

What felt like hours passed. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the black, staining his pillows. And then he heard it. The sound that woke him up.

A series of soft, almost silent knocks, as if the knocker was scared to wake him. It rang with familiarity in his mind. A thought made of molasses broke free. It was Cross. "Killer...?" Hesitant, like he didn't expect an answer but wanted one so badly. "....Do you want some breakfast?" Shaking with sadness and worry, thick with anxiety and shame.

Killer was so tired. He didn't want to get up, and see a world without his little light. Without his Dream. He was already slipping back into the wonderful world of nothingness, back into his mind. Another knock. "Killer?" He shook his head. No. He wasn't joining them today...