here's a bunch of little bitty things i never finished :]
btw if you have no clue what the bz is and you wanna see more about it, look at my artbook, there's a ton about it there. band au my beloved <3 [that's what the picture at the top is]
some of you have already seen the bonezone stuff, so if you already have, lmao just ignore this part, i'm doing some self-advertising because i'm actually really proud of my bz stuff.
———[BZ story]——
Nightmare plucked at some strings, cringing as one sang an out-of-tune note. He quickly started twisting the tuners, trying for another strum. Sitting nearby, Cross was trying to mimic him, testing the sound on his own guitar. Nightmare gave a distressed noise as Cross's nail caught on a string and the guitar gave a harsh twang. "No- Give it here, you'll ruin it."
Cross shrugged, passing his instrument off and standing up. Across the room, Killer sat on the floor, his tongue poking out in concentration. There was a hello kitty sticker on his cheek, which Cross doubted he knew about. Several empty sheets of sticker paper sat around him, another stack of sticker packets piled next to it. One drumstick was already half covered.
Cross made his way over, plopping down next to him. Killer promptly handed him the other drumstick and patted his knee. "Get to work, criss cross. These things won't stickerbomb themselves." Cross rolled his eyelights, huffing as he tore open a packet of stickers. "Alright."
By the time Killer was done, Cross had only covered half of his drumstick. He was currently fighting a small flower, cursing at the stupidly strong adhesive. Killer put down his drumstick, taking the one Cross had, and started working on it as well, snorting at Cross's struggles.
"Hold still, moron." Cross glared at him, pausing long enough for Killer to peel the infernal flower from the back of Cross's hand. Cross flipped it off, standing up with a huff. "I'm done with stickers." Killer shrugged, "I can finish on my own."
Cross left him there, glancing around the living room. He had nothing to do now. He scratched his jaw, watching Nightmare for a moment. He'd started messing with the cords and instructions for the speakers and microphones. Error was crouched beside him, muttering in his usual irritated tone, always the one to express his discontent.
Horror and Dust were sitting on the couch, silent for the most part. The keyboard, stickerbombed beyond recognition, that Dust liked to use, sat on the floor, its legs folded beneath it. Horror's guitar lay reclined against the wall, already having been fixed up by Nightmare. Now, since the two of them didn't have anymore tasks to do, they simply sat, leaning into one another, and watching them through lidded eyes. Dust almost looked like he was asleep.
Cross shifted, and felt bored. He honestly had no idea what to do now.
—————————
next unfinished draft :]
———[party time thing, kross]——
killer threw back another cup of lukewarm alcohol, crushing the now empty cup with a sigh. dust and horror continued to murmur to each other beside him, their blushes bright in the dim room. killer glanced at them, and immediately looked away with a grimace. he didn't want to see them making out. he lightly smacked horror's thigh, "'mma get s'mor drinks. don't fuck on th'couch." horror gave a disgruntled grunt, his only acknowledgment.
killer scoffed, pushing off the couch. his vision swam almost violently, the ground bucking beneath him. he stumbled, snorting as he bumped someone. "watch it!" he waved his hand dismissively, ambling past, the interaction immediately forgotten.
he angled himself towards the snack tables, catching himself on the wall nearby, his skull thumping against a picture frame ungracefully. he ignored it entirely, more focused on the punch bowl. the nasty mixture tasted god-awful, but it got him drunk so he didn't care about the flavor.
killer fumbled with the red cups, knocking over several and dropping twice as many before he finally managed to grab one. he didn't even get to try and struggle with the punch spoon thing. a warm hand settled on his arm, sending a shock through his system. "the cups were hard enough to watch," someone said, and suddenly his cup was being filled.
he followed the arms back to a stupidly pretty skeleton, his soul throbbing insistently. "ok wow, you are so hot, please fuck me-" the stranger laughed- no, they fucking giggled- and shook their head. "maybe when you'll actually remember it. i'm cross." killer stuttered intelligently, slurring random consonants, eventually blurting out, "Im number can i have your killer-" cross laughed again- why was he so beautiful, killer had to be hallucinating- and offered a hand.
killer, no matter how shitfaced he got, could tell that cross was also drunk; flushed face, a heavy lilt to his tone, and the not quite obvious slur. cross was, evidently, not an obvious drunk. still, despite this, cross was a beautiful man and killer wanted on that ride so he took his hand and allowed himself to be led away from the table.
they passed by horror and dust- who were aggressively making out, killer noted demurely- and moved on to who-knew-where. cross smiled over his shoulder, his grin bright under the black lights, his eye lights brighter, and his blush even more. killer found himself smiling back, his feet hitting each other and threatening to send him toppling.
they went upstairs, dodging couples and loners alike, going far into the house, to the very last room, and cross shoved the door open. a wall of smoke billowed out, killer blinking in alarm. cross merely coughed, swatting the smoke and tugging killer in with him. "cross! who you got with ya?" killer squinted, hardly able to make out another skeleton through the fog. the room smelt weird.
"found a cutie from the party down below," cross answered easily, waving away the smoke enough for killer to see three more skeletons lounging around in what looked like the most anime room ever. one of them had an eyepatch and was hugging a body pillow to his chest. he grinned wide, raising his free hand in greeting. "sup' bruh, welcome to thuhhh.. the coolguy club." cross snorted attractively, "shut up, dude, you'll scare 'em away."
killer's brow furrowed, his mouth slow to catch up with his mind. "...is that..?? midari???" epic lit up, holding his arm away from the pillow to show the character's face, the girl grinning wide with her tongue out and dressed scantly, as all body pillow characters seem to be. "sure is! crissy, ya found a real nish fishy there." epic bit his tongue at the slip up, snirking into his fist. "nish fish.. heh" killer chuckled mutedly, hand tightening around cross's.
one of the other skeletons, a short little guy with a stained cheek, sat up with a cheeky grin, asking killer, "what size are ya?" immediately, the other laying beside him shoved his foot into his face, hissing at him to shut up. "that's hella unrad, broski!" killer blinked. the other one continued, turning sly, "ask 'em his name first, bro."
—————–
and that's number two! onto the next one
———[cross is basically dying]——
Nightmare knew it, the instant he awoke, that something was wrong. The castle trembled, the thick walls not thick enough to muffle the sounds of hoarse screaming, and, as he ripped himself out of sleep, a wave of bad intent swept through the castle. He warped without a thought, dragging himself to the source, and hit a hard stop at the sight of Cross's room.
Everything had been ripped apart, debris flying around in balls of purple magic, and in the center, Cross sat curled. Nightmare's soul squeezed sharply at the pain/hatred/fear/shame/rage/anger/guilt that roiled around Cross.
It was all forgotten instantly, the moment he saw Cross's fingers, trembling and twitchy, digging into his own soul. The wretched scream he let out shook the castle, and Nightmare was horrified to see the fragile soul begin to give under his fingers. The seam that blended the red human soul to the white monster soul began to tear under the strain, magic spilling out generously. Nightmare couldn't bring himself to move, couldn't do anything, as he watched Cross literally tear himself apart.
———-
yeahhh, i wanted to finish it, but i dunno where to take it
———[chara wants control]——
Cross dug his fingertips into his skull, dragging them down and leaving bloody stripes along his skull. Chara's incoherent screaming, all accusations and lies and nasty words filled with hatred, made his ears ring and head throb. A throb tore a whimper from him, tears welling up, and all he could think to do was open his mouth and scream until his voice died out. Chara wasn't impressed, vicious as he continued his assault, and slowly, slowly, Cross felt the staticky feeling begin to spread in his fingertips.
He choked, ripping his hands away from his head to stare at them in horror. Chara sneered overhead, "Do it. Scream, just fucking try it, Sans. No one's coming, no one would bother-"
The door slammed open. Cross sobbed at the sight of Horror, tears spilling over in relief, but Chara wasn't so happy. Glowing red knives jutted up sharply along the walls, Cross's throat going numb as Chara stole control and hissed through him. "Leave."
Horror took a single step back, confused and unable to comprehend why Cross was telling him to leave. But the desperation in his face, the fear in his eyes, kept him rooted in place. Horror stepped forward. "..C..cross?" His smaller mate trembled, tearful and afraid, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't answer, because Chara stole his voice away. "Cross doesn't want you here, you fucking empty-headed-" Horror narrowed his eyes, snapping at Chara. "Stop it...! don't use his... throat like that..!"
Cross's face tingled, his teeth pulling back into a nasty grin, his eyes watering with more tears as his body shook with a sob. "Or what? You can't hurt me, you can't do anything to me, not without hurting him. And won't that walking squid's escape jizz be so angry to know that you're the one who hurt Cross?" Chara cooed almost sweetly, laughing at Horror's furious stare.
Cross shook his head quickly as Horror started into the room, begging silently for him to stay away. But Horror didn't listen, stomping right up to Cross and kneeling. Chara burst into laughter, eagerly summoning more knives to jam up from the ground and slice at Horror. The ping of lost HP made Cross cry harder. A gentle hand on his face had him focusing, Horror's smile firm. "Cross? Will... you be mad.. if i accidentally.. hurt you.. by tryina help?" He immediately shook his head no, because it was Horror. He trusted Horror to take care of him, even if he got hurt in the process.
Horror's smile softened, and despite the hateful hands clawing at his sternum, he leaned down to press a quick kiss to Cross's skull. "ok.. 'm sorry for.. this th'n.." Large, clawed hands locked around Cross's skull, unrelenting and unmoving. Chara hissed again, furious, but he could do nothing against Horror's strength. He snarled at Cross's relief, "YOU IDIOT, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" His next words were cut off, Horror jerking him back before slamming his head against the wall, knocking them both out.
Cross's body went limp, the magic knives fading and Horror sighed his own relief. He frowned down at Cross's still form, letting go of his head to scoop him up and cradle him against his chest. He picked him up, careful, and started towards the door, eye narrowed with resolve. He needed to find Nightmare. Nightmare would know what to do. Nightmare had to know what to do.
—————-
and then i couldn't figure out where to go from there :]
next!
———[kross sparring]——
Cross threw his sword up, metal sparking against metal, his arms buckling. His breath came out in quick pants, sweat streaking down his skull. Killer's grin was sharp and gleeful. Cross grit his teeth, pushing back hard. Killer's eyes widened, "Woah-!" He stumbled back, off-balance. Cross's eye flashed red, determined, a blaster roaring to life in Killer's face.
Killer swore, leaping out of the blast's path- Cross lunged, fist slamming into his partner's throat. He swung a knife, slashing at his chest. Killer ducked, stupidly fast, landing on his back. He reared back, kicking Cross's hand and sending the knife clattering a few feet away. Twisting his body, he brought his other leg around, swiping Cross's feet out from beneath him. The guard grunted at the hit but didn't fall. His ankle definitely took some damage though, threatening to give out with the next step Cross took. He bit back a cry, instead bringing that same foot down on Killer's ribs-
His ankle gave a sickening crunch, bone grinding against bone, and Cross fell back with a hiss. "Shit-" Killer sat up quickly, scrambling to his feet to catch Cross before he fell over. Cross clung to him, standing on one foot, his face twisted in a grimace. He held up an arm, announcing his surrender in a strained voice.
Killer didn't hesitate to lift Cross, bracing his arms under him and holding him to his chest in a bridal carry. Horror jogged out from the sidelines, Dust shortcutting over, both frowning. Killer met them halfway, lowering Cross to the floor, his own grin strained. Horror ground his teeth together anxiously, hands hovering around Cross's ankle. At the firm nod Cross gave, Horror started to pull off his socks and shoes, muttering low apologies at every sharp inhale and muffled curse.
Already, dark purple had seeped into Cross's white socks, the fabric damp as Horror peeled it away to look at the crack beneath. Dust winced in sympathy at the sight, Killer grimacing. There was a heavy crack going right through the thick bone of Cross's ankle, a clean line cleaving through the talus. Just above it, the lower ends of Cross's tibia and fibula were riddled with spiderwebbing cracks, and the ones below the talus were much the same. Dark blood puddled under his leg, making a mess of the floor.
Killer's strained smile fell into an ashamed frown, which fell as well as Cross rammed his elbow into his sternum, gritting out through his teeth, "Don't you fucking start with the guilty shit. It's sparring, we're going to get hurt anyways." Killer rolled his eyes, or made a motion like he was, snarking back, "Really? I feel fine." But Cross scoffed and didn't answer in favor of taking the healing food Dust passed him, muttering a brief 'whatever.'
Killer didn't let him go though, despite the apparent sourness growing between them. He kept Cross firmly in his lap, keeping him against his chest almost protectively. Horror took out a bandage roll, starting to wrap Cross's ankle, seeming displeased. "..killer-"
"Yeah, I know, I know-"
"Don't interrupt him," Cross hissed, and Killer fell silent. Horror continued as if it hadn't happened, though his frown had eased slightly. "..y'hit 'm too hard. gotta pull yer punches. s'not trainin, it's sparring. s' just s'posed to be fun. y'know?" Killer nodded, "Yeah, i gotcha man."
Dust gave Cross another food item, watching glitches swarming Cross's ankle, the cracks fading slowly. Horror swatted at them, huffing as they blocked his view of the damage. Cross snorted at his reaction, holding off on eating any further. The glitches faded and Horror resumed his wrapping, a bit more speedily. Once he was done, Cross gave him a thumbs up, "Thanks, dude." Horror nodded, and Cross started eating again.
Dust poked at the glitches when they returned, his brow furrowing at the feeling. It was like water against his bones and felt somewhat electrified. He hummed quietly, pulling his hand back. "That's weird," he commented, watching Horror mimick what he'd done. Cross blinked, answering around a mouthful, "How? 'm jus' healing." Dust shrugged, "Just is. I've only ever seen Error glitch like this." Horror tried catching one in his hands, seeming mildly disappointed when it didn't work.
Killer stared, mildly interested. Horror moved away after a moment, and Killer shifted, leaning over Cross to feel at the fuzzy glitches. He snickered at the feeling, "Does this always happen???"
Cross nodded, "Yup. I'm usually in my room by the time it starts, though, so maybe that's why you've never seen me do it." Killer moved his hand away, setting it back on Cross's hip. "Interesting."
——
there was gonna be a whole thing with killer making a joke about any injuries healing and cross suspiciously answering yes and killer goes 'even sex injuries?' and cross fuckin kicks him with his still broken ankle
next!
———[kross]——
Over the splatter of the shower water, there were faint sniffles, aborted whimpers that had Killer cringing in his bed and wishing Horror would let him borrow his headphones.
Cross cried in the shower. Killer hated hearing those wretched sobs. They came every night, like clockwork, never lasting more than about three minutes. It was annoying to hear because Cross wasn't one to cry.
The soldier held himself just like that, a soldier. Stoic, calm, unfazed. He was smart, brilliant even, and he knew how to fight, good enough to hold up against Killer without faltering. He was like stone.
But here, now, Killer grimaced at the choked sound of some word, mutilated beyond recognition by Cross's pain. Of course Cross had to pick the room beside his, of course Cross was like him and wanted to be as far away from everyone as possible. But why did he have to choose to share a bathroom?? What was the point in that?
It couldn't have been because it would've made for a good shower fuck, no, Cross was too prim and proper for that kinda get up. Killer had offered before, just to see if he could get Cross to make a different expression for once, and he'd been met with a flat look and a deadpan no.
Killer clenched his jaw, a shiver running up his spine, as the crying went silent. That was always the worst part; when it went dead quiet and all of the pain that Cross hid seamlessly vanished. The water shut off and more quiet. Eventually, a door opened and shut, and Killer let out a breath.
The first time he'd heard it, he'd been more than just annoyed. He'd been furious. He'd nearly lost his nerve, had almost thrown open the door to tell him to shut up, but the dead silence after had caught him off guard and his anger had died and he'd been shocked to see Cross looking as if it never happened. His sockets weren't even puffy from his tears, like they should've been. There were no magic stains, there was nothing, no evidence that he'd ever cried.
Killer had almost thought he'd imagined it. Until it happened again and again, and it was still happening, nine months later, and it was just getting painful to hear.
-
The next night, Cross cried an extra minute longer. The moment Killer realized that it had gone on for much longer than it had ever gone, he was on his feet and knocking on the door before he even knew what he was doing. Cross's noises cut off abruptly. Killer knocked again, cursing himself mentally and calling out, "You good?" The water inside shut off and there was an audible scramble before a door opened and slammed shut.
Killer scowled. No. No, he wasn't going to do this, he'd run out of patience. He grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open and marching right up to the other door. The bathroom was still warm with steam from the shower, the mirrors fogged. Killer ignored the weird feeling he got from it, grabbing the other doorhandle and wrenching it open.
It gave away under his hand, opening easily, and Killer practically threw it open.
Cross's room was sparse. A bare mattress with a single pillow and one blanket folded neatly and stacked at the foot. The clothes wrack was bare of anything and everything, a small stack of clothing tucked in the middle shelf and the rest completely empty. Killer's soul twisted painfully at the emptiness of the room, the sheer lack of personality. The walls were barren, the open closet revealed nothing, and a single calendar hung from the closet door. There was a desk tucked neatly against the wall beside the bed, with a small stack of notebooks on it. A pencilcup filled with pens and whatnot, a small trashcan, a few open sketchbooks, papers; the only thing in the room with the slightest bit of expression was the desk. It was messy and piled with things.
Cross stood near that desk, wrapped in a towel, wide-eyed and confused. Whatever he usually did to hide his tears, he clearly hadn't done it yet, his cheeks stained with light purple. The longer Killer looked though, the more he noticed that tear tracks weren't the only thing to miraculously vanish. He blinked, taking in the heavily scarred wasteland of Cross's bones. There was a thick line, a scar crossing right down his sternum, and Killer was hit with the realization that all those battles, those fights where Cross went for Ink every time, Cross never left unscathed.
———————–
these last two got edited in like a day after i posted this, so if you're re-reading this, no, you're not insane, i'm just kinda dumb :]
——[sickfic - HorrorDust]——–
Horror grumbled his protest, ".noo.." Dust sighed, gingerly prying his mate's hands off his coat. "I'll be right back, Horror." He was not let go. Instead, Horror simply yanked him back into bed. Dust groaned, feeling the burning skull press into his spine. Still, he softened at the whine Horror gave, relaxing in his grip. "Okay, ya big oaf. I'll stay for a little while."
It turned into all day. Dust couldn't bring himself to leave, so eventually someone came. He blinked as the door cracked open, craning his neck to squint at whoever it was.
Cross peeked in, poorly hidden concern in his eyes. Meeting Dust's gaze, he straightened, stepping inside with a frown. "..uh. You guys okay?" Dust shook his head, "I'm good, but Horror's got a fever." The face he got in response nearly made him laugh, Cross's expression scrunching up with panicked worry. "I-I'll go get Night," the guard blurted out, and he dashed out the door.
Dust scoffed, settling in to wait. Unfortunately, he didn't get to relax much. The door opened again, this time with Killer strolling in. He gave them both a raised brow, grinning. "Sleepin' in?" Dust rolled his eyes, "Hardly."
He hissed as Killer flopped on the bed, making himself right at home. Dust kicked at him, scowling, "Get off, you dipshit, you'll wake him up." Killer snorted, "He's fine. Word is he's caught somethin." Dust shoved at him again, planting his foot in his face and pushing. He grimaced, feeling the hate seep into his sock, no doubt staining it. Killer hit his foot aside, snickering, "Defensive little fucker, arentcha?"
————[kross sickfic]——
Killer's soul was aching when he woke up. The only reason he didn't panic was that he recognized this kind of pain. That bloated feeling, the burn, and heaviness? He knew what this was. He still hated it, but he supposed it was better than any other explanation. His nonexistent stomach roiled in protest as he rolled over. His vision swam and his eyelids felt heavy, but he grit his teeth and got up.
His legs burned, feed leaden, as he stumbled out of his room. He hadn't bothered to get dressed, opting to make his journey in nothing but his sleep shorts. The castle's cold floor was heavenly, the chill in the air a welcome one. Killer's world lurched, throwing him against the wall, where he stayed for a long while. He leaned heavily, using the decorative curtains nearby to hold himself up.
His skull was pounding with a migraine, his vision pulsing with each throb. He couldn't think through the haze, his mind emptier than normal. His throat burned, demanding water. Killer swallowed dryly, but didn't move. Someone would come eventually. With that, he slid down to the floor, slumped on his side, and promptly passed out, the aching heat chasing him into his dreams.
-
Killer wasn't waking. No matter how hard Cross shook him and called his name, Killer's eyes stayed shut. His soul pulsed unsteadily over his chest, no longer spinning as it always did, and that terrified Cross. His throat went tight with fear, his breath going unsteady. He blinked back tears, feeling himself start shaking. Killer's skull was burning, his forehead hot against Cross's, and his body shivered minutely, his face flushed with fever.
Cross's jaw trembled. "...Killer?" No answer. He shook, pulling away and stumbling to his feet and into a shortcut.
Nightmare looked up, startled at the chaotic swirl of fear/panic/devastation/grief. Cross staggered from the wall, barely keeping himself together, croaking out Nightmare's name. The darker skeleton was up in an instant, worried, "Cross? What's wrong?"
Cross's face crumbled and his legs gave out, his voice hoarse as he broke down. "Killer won't- Boss, he's not, he won't wake up..!"
-
Killer's head spun, throbbing with a headache that made his eyes water. Painful heat swirled through his bones, burning in a way that he hadn't felt in a long time. His eyes stung when he opened them, the bright lights of the infirmary stabbing at his agitated magic, making him groan. He flinched as something moved sharply at his side, his instincts nearly taking over only to be stomped down by a wave of nausea. Still, he tried to focus his vision, his body prickling with alarm, but it was just Cross.
Cross stared back at him with wide eyes, tears streaking down his face. Killer blinked, shifting under the heavy blankets, rasping, "..you okay?" Cross hiccuped, his shoulders shaking with a silent sob. His voice was strained, weak from his crying. "Y-you're awake..."
Despite how his head throbbed, Killer tried for a grin, "Yup. 'n yer cryin'." Cross jumped, purple erupting across his cheeks as he scrubbed the tears away. "S...sorry. I just." Killer faltered at the way Cross hunched in on himself, his voice dropping into a whisper like he was sharing a secret. "..I just... I thought you were-" He cut himself off, stammering, "I-I mean, Nightmare said you would be fine, but I-"
"Hey. I'm okay, Crossy."
Cross deflated, smiling bitterly, fresh tears spilling over. "I know, I." His grin fell, and he pressed his face in his hands, laughing out a shaky, "..fuck.." Killer's expression slowly dropped, Cross squeezing his eyes shut and breathing out the answer to the unspoken question. "I didn't... I.I didn't want to lose everything again."
It felt like the air had been punched from him, the confession making his soul twist sharply. "Cross, you- What about the others, you'd still have them-"
"But it wouldn't be you-!" Cross covered his mouth, horrified at his outburst. He started curling in on himself once more, shame written in every line of his body. Killer stared at him, stunned at the admission, at the millions of other secrets that were revealed with it. A different kind of warmth bloomed in his face, his soul giving an odd pulse. He shook it off, filing it away to revisit later, focusing on Cross.
"Cross, look at me." Tearful eyes met his single white one. He smiled, as kindly as he could, "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Who would annoy you every day if not me?" Cross snorted, taken off guard, and Killer's smile became easier to keep up. "A measly little flu is not gonna be what kills me."
Cross sniffed, rubbing away the last of his tears and nodding his agreement, his chuckle watery as he muttered, "I'd think less of you if it did." Killer's grin widened, "I'd think less of you if you didn't think less of me." Cross huffed an amused noise.
"Stars, finally." The two of them jumped, whipping around to see Dust and Horror standing in the infirmary door. Dust sneered good-naturedly, snarking, "He's been crying over you for two days, it's about time you woke up and made him stop." Cross gave a sheepish shrug. Horror held up a capped bowl, smiling. "gotcha soup."
Killer perked up, suddenly ravenous. He started to sit up, only to hiss as his arms refused to cooperate. Cross laughed, leaning over to help Killer get situated. Soon, Killer was shoveling soup into his mouth, relishing in the warmth it filled him with.
Dust pulled a chair up beside Cross's, leaning into his side with a snide grin. Before Cross could puff up and shove him off, Dust elbowed him and asked, "Confess your undying love y-mmh-" Horror grabbed Dust from behind, covering his mouth and cutting him off. Cross bristled, shooting Dust a glare, getting a smug stare in response.
Horror smiled, "how's the soup?" Killer glanced between Dust and Cross, his brow furrowed, "What's he talking about?" Cross started sweating, giving a nervous laugh, "The soup. Horror's talking about the soup." Dust's giggling was muffled, Horror's smile strained.
Killer tilted his head. "Cross???" He dropped the spoon back into his bowl, watching Cross closely, trying to glean information from his expression. "The soup- How's the soup, Killer?" He looked down at it, blinking. "Pretty good."
Dust tried to pry Horror's fingers away, his words muffled, hardly distinguishable. He gave an annoyed puff of air, and pointed at Cross and then Killer. Cross's eyes widened, his reaction too slow. Dust had made a heart shape with his hands, which Cross slapped down and leaned over to hiss something in Dust's face.
Killer still hadn't caught on, his usual wit absent in his sickness. "Uh. Is Cross?? Worried about my soul???" Dust's eyes widened before a bout of laughter erupted from him that Horror's hands couldn't muffle. Cross let out a sigh, though, giving Horror a look. The silent exchange ended with Cross mumbling a relieved, "thanks.." and Horror grinning.
Dust said something that sounded like "come on!" as he was taken out of the room. The door closed behind them, leaving Cross and Killer alone. Cross gave him a look, smiling again, "Boss said you gotta rest. If you want, I can go?" Killer shook his head, "Nah."
—————————–
they totally slept on the same cot.
headcanon that cross overreacts sometimes because trauma. after losing [killing] everyone in his au, he's got this fear that it's going to happen again, so when Killer gets sick, cross gets flashbacks and is terrified that he'll lose him.
also, he's in love with him, so it would suck even more.
he probably confessed at some point, i dunno what the plot was
—————————–
and that's the last one!!
now i can finally get rid of these :D