Nightmare was reading when Cross came in. His tendrils flicked at the clouded anger. It came off in waves of hatred and sorrow, and, yet, outwardly, Cross remained impassive. Nightmare scoffed and greeted him, prepared to ask what was wrong. "Hello-"
SMACK!
Nightmare grunted, his head having turned sharply. His cheek stung, aching pulses already starting to flood the bone. Cross's hand trembled where it was still suspended in the air. His fingers curled into a fist, his arm lowering. "Why didn't you tell me???" Cross's voice cracked, breaking under his anger and grief, and Nightmare shook. No. No, he couldn't have found out. Who told him?? Someone told him, someone had to have told him.
Nightmare shook his head, his hand on his cheek. "I don't know what you're talking about." Cross inhaled sharply, letting the air out with a weak laugh. "You're still trying to hide it." He caught Nightmare's stare, his eyelight burning with magic. "Cross?" Nightmare tensed as knives flicked in and out of existence behind his husband. "You knew, and you kept it from me."
"Kept what from you? I didn't keep anything from you." Cross lowered his head, sighing softly. Nightmare started to stand, carefully approaching Cross. He stopped as Cross looked up and asked quietly, "Where's Incubux, Nightmare?"
Nightmare stiffened, a tremor shaking his bones. Fuck. His gaze flicked to the side, "I told you, he's on a trip-" Cross's emotions twisted piercingly, his voice a whisper. "You're a liar." He snapped at Nightmare's sputtered protests. "Just shut up! For two fucking years, you lied to me! About my son!" The room lit up with Cross's magic. Knives burst from the ground, flying into the walls and ripping the furniture apart. Nightmare flinched back, his eye wide. "Cross-!" A wave of purple broke from Cross, washing over Nightmare in a tsunami. Another pulse, and another, more and more magic flooded from Cross's person, the distraught magic leaving scorch marks on the walls and ground.
Nightmare shuddered as Cross's flashing eyes met his. "When was the funeral, huh? When was it!" The demand shook Nightmare to his very soul. His sludge rippled in response to Cross's raging emotions. There was a hollow thrum pounding through his skull, the air starting to go stale. Nightmare's tentacles coiled and thrashed under the weight of the magic. "Cross."
More heavy waves, more angry magic, more of Cross's pain. Cross's voice was a hoarse scream, "Did you lie to Dream? Did you lie to Killer? Or was I the only one who didn't know?!" He gasped as something struck him from behind. He turned with a snarl, his magic throwing the person back and into a wall. They cried out, crumbling to a pile, and Cross stared at them. It was Dream. Killer was already at his side, watching Cross with dismay and worry. Dream raised his head and locked eyes with Cross, shakily getting to his feet. He started forward, Killer right behind him. "C-cross."
Nightmare's voice broke through his haze, Cross's soul sinking as the dark monster spoke. "They knew. Dream and Killer both know."
Cross's magic went out like a flame.
"We were going to tell you, Cross. I swear we were."
They'd all actively kept this a secret from him. They'd all lied straight to his face. Cross slowly shut his eyes, the tears he'd held back finally slipping free. Dream gasped, rushing forward with the intent to hug, only to jerk back as Cross snapped a blade up between them. "Don't touch me." His voice trailed off into a whisper. "Don't ever touch me again."
Dream flinched, his soul starting to ache. "Cross, no.. You don't mean that." Nightmare teleported to stand with him, his tendrils curling around him and Killer protectively. Cross stared at them, his arms now hanging limply at his sides. He dropped the knife, Dream wincing at the clatter. Cross quietly wiped his face, breathing deeply. "Cross?" Dream shut his mouth as Nightmare gently grabbed his shoulder. He backed down, letting Nightmare talk. "Cross, I'm sorry. We were going to tell you. From now on, we won't keep secrets, alright?"
Cross blinked at him slowly. "...Are you fucking serious right now?" Nightmare was taken back, startled at this. "You really think I can just move on from this?" Killer, who had been silent the whole time, spoke up. "Of course you can't. We still haven't." Cross snorted, the sound pained. "Oh really? Even after two years?" Killer shifted, falling quiet.
Cross scanned over them, taking in the various signs of regret and worry. Finally, after a long moment, he smiled. "I want a divorce."