A distant memory surfaced shortly. Infinite islands stretching out into a vast void of warm-colored hues and soft cream clouds, specific sections littered by numerous hanging white paper sheets, and a distinct hint of crayon/paint wafting in the air. Dream could practically picture himself standing there facing Cross.
The monochrome warrior stood a few feet ahead dressed in full armor, leaning tiredly against the knife-sword buried in the ground in front of him. Dream, his yellow tank-topped and grey-shorted trainee, drooped in place- shoulders sagged and spine as straight as a weeping willow; more than a little too lazy to move. The lump hidden beneath the guardian's shirt barely showed, but the sweat dripping down his skull and staining his clothes was more than enough proof his magical and physical capabilities were hindered by something. Both were flush in the face (purple and yellow respectively) and panting from their most recent activities: sword and attack formation practice. Their efforts evident by the sheer amount of bone attacks and red magic knives adorning the miniature training ground.
Dream glanced off to the side, admiring the Doodlesphere's unique qualities while catching his breath. Even the less than enjoyable ones. (Why Ink thought flying spaghetti dragons were a neat addition to the Doodlesphere, he would never know.) After several seconds passed, his yellow eyelights drifted back over to Cross, who had since abandoned his position on the other side of the island and begun casually approaching.
A small smile spread across the weary skeleton's jaws when his mentor came to a halt beside him. An action that the swordsman returned in kind, causing his own smile to widen a fraction further. Despite the long training session, Cross seemed to have mostly recovered; his breath steady and purple flush a mere whisper compared to bright shade it had been moments ago. The knife-shaped blade he wielded found itself returned to his back, securely strapped in place, where it could rest until he decided to call upon its aid once more. Meanwhile, Dream stood there with a discarded short sword next to his feet, cracks splintering down its sides and chips littering the blunt edges. The exact opposite of Cross' pristine blade.
A minuscule, definitely barely noticeable part of the guardian felt jealous. But solely because he wanted nothing more than to fall on his bed and never get up while Cross was already up and moving again. How did the other manage stretching his invisible muscles after a workout like that? He hardly fathomed doing it. Everything ached- from his metatarsals to everything in between there and his blistered phalanges. And, if Dream didn't know any better, he might even say his aches had aches.
Suddenly, a hand holding a simple-wrapped chocolate bar appeared under his nose and startled him out of his thoughts. The delicious, sugary delight called to his magic like a siren to a sailboat. Or perhaps his souling's magic? It was rather hard to distinguish who was craving what during the pregnancy thus far. Still, the yellow orbs in the exhausted skeleton's eye sockets were hesitant to trail past the sweet and to the face of his friend.
"Here. For your HP. I'm sure you need it after the number we did on this poor place." The corners of Cross' eye sockets crinkled in amusement, positive feelings (mirth, happiness, care) swelling in his soul as he voiced the offer.
A hand shot forward with renewed vigor, snatching up the food item and drawing it to Dream's skull. Then the chocolate disappeared from between the phalanges so quickly that one would need to slow time to watch the split second his incisors/molars parted to witness it vanishing. A light snicker caused the yellow dusting his cheeks to burn brighter. No longer did Cross wear an expression of shock when Dream ate candy, wrapper and all. Instead, amusement seemed to overpower any other feeling about the matter. If not evident by his laughter.
While Cross tried (unsuccessfully) to stifle the joyous sounds by placing a hand over his teeth, the guardian sputtered a "T-thanks." His eyelights drifted to anywhere other than the warrior's face. Coincidentally, bring him to examine the battle-ruined isle. "But couldn't you have gone easier on me? You know I haven't done anything like this before."
"No. It's all apart of training." The answer came out muffled and airy, with a hint of mirth lingering in the background. But Dream could tell the other felt a little remorse for using a full-on Royal Guard training regiment.
A playful smirk stretched across the guardian's face, quickly being replaced by a faux pout. "That's part where you are supposed to say 'yes' and offer to carry me back to the house so we can eat chocolate ice cream together."
The mention of the fluffy armored skeleton's favorite flavor caused excitement to spark in the air. Unfortunately, a taste of urgency and longing ruined the reply. "Heh. Maybe next time, dreamcatcher."
"Only if I don't eat all the ice cream first, criss-cross."
Cross chuckled at the fake threat, pretending to look offended for a moment before the smile on his face faded into a more serious expression. "All jokes aside, the training is important. It may be rough, yes, but that's the Royal Guard way in my AU, and I don't plan to treat you any different from a fresh cadet- because your opponents won't give you any luxuries in combat. Whether you are pregnant or not, battle is battle, just as war is war. The only thing you have to gain from your current situation is people underestimating you."
A hand grasped Dream's sore shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, causing him to lightly flinch while he listened intently to the warrior's words, which drifted into a proud yet teasing tone for the final sentence. "But, for a skeleton who has had no formal combat training prior and has little magic-eating goblin in his belly, I'd say you did well today!"
The Guardian of Positivity blinked in response to the praise. "R-really? But the island is a mess, and my weapon got ruined."
"Combat practice is messy, and weapons break, dude. You'll have to trust me when I say you did a great job; keep practicing like this, and I am sure you will be as good as me one day." The swordsman absently flicked the discarded sword off the ground with a foot and balanced it on the toes of his boot. He soon followed up by kicking it twelve or more inches in the distance, where it proceeded to crack and shatter upon impact. "Might have to find you a better sword first, though. It wasn't as sturdy as I thought it was."
"Thank you. For the training and the vote of confidence."
Cross gave a shy chuckle and pulled a hand up to rubbed at the back of his neck. All while the light purple on his skull flared with a new purpose. "It's no problem. Besides, I owe you anyways, and this is the perfect chance to pay off my debt."
A frown marred Dream's jaws at the words. "You know you don't owe me anything for that, right? It was the right thing to do. I was happy to help."
"I know, I know. I just wanted to do something nice in return. Like combat training..." The sentence trailed off when a loud, repetitive jingle emanated from seemingly nowhere. His friend quickly produced a worn phone from his inventory and grimaced at whatever he saw on its cracked screen.
"Oof... I suppose this concludes our time for the day."
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah. There are a few leads I want to check out before nightfall. Plus, I do believe there is a neat little list of errands I need to run for you sitting in my inventory." The other added the last sentence in a playful tone.
Cross' intense magic sprung to life seconds later and swarmed a little ways away, coming together to form a void-esque rift in the dimension. A sinister feeling exuded from the darkness inside. As his feet began to carry him toward the portal, Dream lunged forward and wrapped his arms tightly around the other's chest, burying his face in the soft white fluff of the armor. Which, regrettably, tickled his nasal cavity. The warrior slowly turned in the hold (inadvertently making the tickling worse), encircling Dream in his own arms once he did a full one-eighty.
The pair stood unmoving. For a second and then another, until the surrounding silence was broke by a light murmur. "Be safe. Especially if you're planning on traveling to any AUs with high levels of negativity, my brother is probably still looking for you."
The Guardian of Positivity felt the limbs squeeze tight around him in response, drawing away soon after. Once the residual warmth vanished, he dropped his arms to his side as well and took a few small steps back.
"I will. Expect me back sometime in the next few hours, and if I don't return by the time that's passed-" Cross paused, throwing his head back and rising a closed fist to his chest while the other hand rested dramatically across his forehead. "Eat the ice cream without me."
Dream faked a gasp. "And deprive you of the wonders of triple chocolaty goodness? Never! I'll save you a bowl."
"Heh, alright." A small snicker passed the other's jaws as he shifted to face the portal. "Oh, Don't forget to read the book I gave you; it has some important sections I'd like to incorporate into your next lesson in swordsmanship and combat."
"I won't."
"Good." Stepping into the inky black depths, Cross shot Dream one last reassuring smile before slipping inside. The portal zipped shut, afterward; closed off whatever ill-treated AU laid beyond it from the Doodlesphere.
Now Dream was completely alone. And, seeing as the tired skeleton had nothing better to do, he opened his inventory and brought out the medium-sized book given to him earlier in the day. It had a thick black cover with blood-red lettering stretched across the front. His brow lifted at the title:
Escape: A Guide to a Warrior's Strategic Withdraw.