Once the ex-guardian had calmed down, Cross had locked him inside a small room. A room the King had never seen before.
He was scared. He didn't know what was going on. He didn't like what was going on!
Tears once again fell down the dark Sans's cheeks.
How weak had he become? How stupid and desperate had he gotten?
Nightmare sniffled some as he laid himself on the bed. He was tired from all the crying he did that day. He was also hungry.
Gulping softly, the Royal closed his eyes to try and sleep. His thoughts though wouldn't stop swirling around.
It was his fault that Cross was hurt. It was his fault that he had become so weak. It was his fault that he couldn't be happy. It was his fault for his falling, it was his fault for so many things. So many horrible, horrible things.
A wince formed on his face, his soul hurting from how right they were. He deserved every ounce of pain that he was given. Every ounce of hatred and cruelty that found him.
He was the King of Nightmares, and now... He was a monster who held nothing. Nothing, but one person.
And even that person has been scarred by him.
"C-Crossy..." The weak skeleton whimpered out, his tears falling faster.
Nightmare needed his knight, he needed Cross. He was so weak without him...
More tears fell from the old King's face before he finally passed out from exhaustion. He just had to wait, to deal with the crap that was happening.
It was his fault after all. It was always his fault.