(not so old)
This takes place about a month after the previous part.
(this is the rewrite!!)
(Art is mine, I used my phone, and it took thirty minutes lmao)
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Killer stared at the three people seated at the table, brows raised. "So. How was everyone's day?" Dream, being the nicest of the twins, jumped at the attempt at conversation, smiling brightly. "Well, the hospital had a new patient today. A paralyzed person and their arm was broken. I had no idea how they managed to break it, being immobile and all, but apparently someone threw a frying pan too hard." Killer nodded and looked at Cross. His parent had been restless.
After his body stopped hurting, Cross spent hours pacing back and forth. He'd learned the house's layout two hours after he could walk again. Killer would spend time outside, doing who knows what, or going out with his friend group. Nightmare had been unhappy with the teen's friends. "They're delinquents!" He'd shouted at Cross when the adult tried to defend Killer's choice in company. The two seemed to hate each other. It didn't help that Nightmare's appearance would sometimes set Cross off. Killer had done his best to behave, trying to lessen the stress of everything. More often than not, though, he'd find himself threatening Nightmare with a sharp item. Ninety percent of the time, it was because of Cross's episodes. Killer would force Nightmare to leave so Cross could calm down.
Dream didn't like it, and whenever he heard shouting, he'd stay in his bedroom to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. He also spent a lot of time reprimanding Nightmare for not doing his job. Cross wasn't going to get better if Nightmare refused to aide the adult in anything. Cross just hated being there altogether. He wasn't helping anything, he was sure that his presence was ruining everything. He'd gone slightly mute, and he stopped asking for any help with anything. Killer still helped him nevertheless, but Nightmare didn't care and Dream was too busy with his own life that he didn't notice Cross's change.
They were all currently eating dinner, and the tension was heavy. Dream was oblivious, Nightmare was stuffing his face, and Cross was pushing food around with his fork. Killer had long since finished, but he didn't want to leave in case Nightmare said anything that upset Cross. As he had been nearly every night. Cross kept his gaze on his plate when he was addressed, murmuring that his day had been fine. Killer's stare softened, sad, before it hardened when Nightmare spoke. "He sat around doing nothing as always." Dream's eyelights snapped up at Nightmare, his tone scolding. "Night, that's rude!" Nightmare shrugged and took another bite, unfazed. "It's true." Cross sighed, already sensing Killer's rising ire. "It's fine." Dream smiled, humming as he looked at Cross. "I almost forgot to say, this is really good. You should cook again." Cross nodded and took a tiny bite, chewing slowly.
Nightmare scoffed, "Yeah, but it could use a little more salt." Killer glared at him, face twisting with a scowl. "You're salty enough as it is, I don't think you need any more." Dream choked on laughter, clearing his throat before it could escape. A soft golden blush had spread across his cheeks, his eyelights twinkling with delight. Nightmare glowered back at the teen, holding his stare. "Guys, calm down." Killer jolted at the rise in volume. That was the loudest Cross had spoken in the past week. It wasn't loud, but it wasn't a whisper either. Killer beamed at him, "Sure thing, pops."
--Time skip--
Cross's fingers were twisting around each other, tangling themselves and doing nothing to help with his anxiety. Nightmare was staring at him, having nothing else to do, and making the smaller uncomfortable. Cross had an appointment, and Nightmare was the one who had to take him. He didn't want to take care of Cross, but he'd accepted the job so he had to. They were both currently waiting in a hospital room for the doctor to return with a diagnosis(or something). Cross kept his eyelights glued to his lap, avoiding Nightmare's gaze and mulling over what the doctor would say. Finally, the doctor slipped into the room and looked at Nightmare, who smiled at him. (fake boi.) "What's the news?" The doctor sighed, motioning towards Cross with a frown. "It seems that he's getting worse." Cross shut his sockets at this, his SOUL giving a slight twinge as Nightmare nearly shouted. "What?!" The doctor pointed at Cross's chest, "The samples are showing high levels of emotional distress and fluctuating imbalances in SOUL stability. The damage is spreading, and it's likely to start affecting his physical and mental state."
Nightmare gaped, completely baffled and speechless, as the doctor continued. "Either he's in a stressful environment, or this is just a fluke." Absently, Cross rubbed his chest as a dull emptiness formed. This was his fault, wasn't it? "I recommend a therapist. Fluke or not, this is a concerning development. It could stem from something beyond daily life, such as traumas or disorders." Nightmare glanced at Cross, who was now massaging his throat. It was a nervous habit that'd gotten from his mother. Cross cleared his throat, and gave a tight frown, glancing at Nightmare when he answered. "...I'll take the therapist." The doctor nodded, typing away at his computer and muttering under his breath. He turned to Cross once he finished, smiling. "If they find anything, we may have to consider scheduling sessions."
A few minutes later, Cross was quietly following Nightmare and listening to his complaints. "High levels of emotional distress? Getting worse?!" Cross stayed silent, flinched ever so slightly at each infuriated growl. His mouth had gone dry, and a headache was forming. Nightmare glared at the ground, kicking at rocks and sending dirt flying. "I don't want to take care of some- some street rat!" Cross stopped and stared at him, sockets wide and tears forming. Street rat. A street rat. A shudder rippled through his body, shaking the tears free. Cross quickly wiped them and pulled his hood on, hiding his face behind his scarf. Nightmare ignored him, still upset, and demanding to know what was wrong with Cross. Once they reached the truck, Cross climbed into the back of the vehicle instead of sitting inside like he always did. He didn't want to annoy Nightmare further.
"Yo, what the fuck are you doing?" Cross froze, pausing mid-sit. Nightmare raised a brow at him, noting that Cross's face was hidden from him. Cross's hand, which had been holding up his scarf, dropped limply and curled around the truck's edge. He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak. "I.. I'm sitting in the back..." Nightmare huffed and rolled his eyelight. "Why are you sitting in the back?" Cross kept his gaze averted, "I, uh..You're mad.. I, I thought this would...help.."
Cross's free hand reached up to latch onto his throat, his voice going silent. Nightmare's tendrils, which had been lashing in agitation, slowed and he stared at Cross. "...Seriously? Are you that stupid?" Cross twitched, not sure how to respond. "I... I guess...?" Nightmare scoffed and shook his head. "Get down here. You're going to get cold and I don't feel like letting you get sick." Cross quickly obeyed, nearly falling in his rush to get down.
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By the time they got back to the house, Nightmare had calmed and was ready to nap. Cross was just eager to hide in his room. Like he had been doing for a while now. He'd gotten to the porch first, and he'd darted inside before Nightmare did. Hours later, when Nightmare had woken up from his nap, he'd gotten up to get something to drink. Killer and Dream hung out in the living room when they were home, so neither of them knew where Cross or Nightmare were. Killer had checked on Cross when he'd gotten back from school, and he'd found his parent sleeping. He assumed that he was still sleeping, and Dream believed the same for his brother. Nightmare's room was on the other side of the house, so he hardly ever ran into Cross unless they were both in the hallway. So far, Cross had managed to stay out of sight. Until today.
It was nearly eight in the afternoon. Cross had promised to make dinner again, and he was going to do just that. That is, after he finished his very important call.
"What's the color scheme again?" The call was going great. He was just a little annoyed. Dust was supposed to be taking notes. "I've told you four times. Red, white, and dark blue."
"Cross, that doesn't match." Cross wanted to slap the crime lord. Those colors matched, his ally was just stupid. "Matching or not, they're Killer's favorite colors, and you're going to use them." Dust huffed and grumbled under his breath. "Alright."
"...Write this down. Again." Dust groaned loudly, and Cross heard shuffling. "There. Now, do you have an idea on how many people are coming?" The adult hummed, already having an estimate for it. "Eight to ten." Dust chuckled as he wrote down the number under guests. "Kid doesn't have many friends, does he?"
"He's like you."
"Antisocial?"
"No, he's an asshole."
"HEY!"
Cross smiled, wanting to laugh, but he refrained. He didn't want to get caught laughing. He forced his smile into a neutral line and sighed. "...You alright?" Cross shook his head, forcing his mind to refocus. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Dust exhaled, "Bullshit."
"Bullshit or not, that's not what this call is about. Let's focus on what really matters, yeah?"
"...Fine."
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Cross paused halfway through a sentence, snapping up to look at the door. Someone had twisted the handle. A familiar bright cyan eyelights zeroed in on him, making him freeze. "Cross? You there?" Cross inhaled sharply, "Yeah, I'm still here. Just, uh- I just got startled." Nightmare stepped fully into the room, his arms crossing as he stared at Cross. "What's wrong?" Cross jumped, having momentarily forgotten that he was calling someone. "Oh! Right, sorry. Erm- Everything's fine."
"...You sound nervous." Cross coughed, squinting at Nightmare. The darker held up a hand, making the symbol for a phone and miming hanging up. "No, I told you, everything's fine. I gotta go, though. I'll call you back later. Bye." Cross hung up before Dust could respond, letting out a long breath and turning off his phone. "Cross." He stiffened, "...Yeah..?" Nightmare stalked over, looming over Cross threateningly. "Who are you 'calling back' later?" He swallowed dryly, voice shaking a bit. "Someone who's helping me, um...plan a party.." Nightmare blinked at him, once, twice, before he laughed. "Really? That's the best you could come up with?" Cross frowned at him, still terrified, but not enough to keep from muttering an annoyed response. "Well, it's not a lie." Nightmare glared at him, "Really now? What kind of party are you planning then?"
Cross glanced past Nightmare, lowering his voice. "It's a surprise party for Killer. His birthday is in a week." Nightmare snorted, "As if you'd plan him a party." Cross tensed, not liking the implications. "What's that supposed to mean?" Nightmare grinned at him, looking errily similar to Hate. Cross reeled back as Nightmare's appearance changed momentarily, fear freezing his SOUL. Even if Nightmare looked normal again, all Cross could see was Hate, sneering at him, laughing at him, and grinning venomously. Weakly, Cross's magic sparked, and sent a distress signal rippling out from his soul. Nightmare jolted, startled, as his magic flickered in response. He quickly stepped away from Cross, already hearing footsteps rushing towards the room.
Killer had been eating a cookie when he felt the familiar twinge of magic. Dream had been reading. Cross's magic could only go so far in his panicked state. Both dropped their things and darted into the hallway. Killer, being younger, reached the room faster than Dream, and he kicked the door open with a growl. Cross had curled up on the bed, whimpering and whispering for help, and Killer's magic roiled at the sight. A sharp knife flashed into existence, his hand curling around it tightly as he approached Cross's trembling form. It was then that Dream appeared as well, immediately spotting his brother. "Night? Was that you?" His brother shook his head and pointed at Cross. Killer had looked up at Nightmare's name, glaring at the adult angrily once he saw him. He snarled, stomping over and pointing the knife at him. "What the fuck did you do to him?!" Killer demanded, and Dream gasped at the weapon. "Killer!" The teen ignored the golden twin, hissing at Nightmare. "Answer me!"
Cross was snapped out of his mind at the sound of Killer's voice, blinking the image of Hate away. He sat up shakily, slightly confused. Dream moved over to Cross, kneeling beside the bed and asking gently what had happened. Nightmare slapped the knife aside, only for it to return at his throat. Killer stared at him, the glowing target on his chest flashing brightly with anger. "I said answer me, you fucking prick." Nightmare scowled, "I didn't do anything, brat." Killer grit his teeth, adding pressure to the knife. Nightmare grimaced. "Liar." Cross and Dream finally noticed Nightmare's position, and Cross rushed to stand unsteadily. He lurched forward, grabbing onto Killer's shoulder. "Killer, let him go." The teenager growled, but jerked away, the knife disappearing back into his magic as he turned around to hold onto Cross. "What happened?" Cross let himself be led back to the bed, pulling Killer down with him. He wanted to hold someone after his panic. (It's totally normal to cuddle with your children. Adopted or not. As long as there's no twisted ideas, it's perfectly fine.)
"I just-" Nightmare stumbled over to stand beside Dream, allowing his brother to heal his throat. Killer's knives were sharp. "He flipped out over nothing." Dream elbowed him, scolding him quietly. Cross continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "He looks too much like Hate." Killer frowned worriedly, slipping his arms around Cross's middle. "If he were Hate, I'd've already stabbed the bastard." Cross sighed, pulling his adopted child close and relaxing slightly. "I know." Dream cooed under his breath, whispering about how cute the scene was. Nightmare only snorted and dragged his brother out of the room.
Looks like Cross wasn't cooking that night after all.
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THE END
Cross and Killer fall asleep and Dream wakes them up later on so they can eat Spagetti-O's. Killer threw a spoonful at Nightmare and had a good laugh. Cross did not ground him for it, and he also ate a full bowl. Yayyyyyyy
I haven't decided what ship this should be about. Crossmare or Cream? Idk man. Obviously, there's not any Kross in this because PEDOPHILIA IS NOT A NICE THING. I felt like I needed to make that clear, idk. (I have a lot of knowledge on ships, i've just realized that again haha end me-)
I had a little brain-die while writing Cross's episode, so it came out weird. oops. Anyways, I'll be working on part two! UwU
I'm still open to any requests! There will be no sinning here. maybe some hints of it, or innuendos, and even heated moments, but i am not going to write out a smut. nerp. Not only will it be badly written, but i cannot have such no-no moments in my history of writing. Nope. Now, i'm not judging the sin writers, they are the backbone of Wattpad, i'm just saying that i'm not going to write sin. I can't imagine the trouble I'll be in if this book is found, and if there's sin in it? Haha, i'm dead. So yeah. No requests for sin, okay my dudes?
I'll take any kind of requests, expect for smut/nsfw. Thanks for reading!