The book o' random Oneshots

Silly Dreams Drabble

"No, I'm noGh-" Night chokes as he suddenly digs his claws into Cross' shoulder, his other hand flying to his ribs. He makes a noise that holds more agony than Cross has ever seen him in.

"What's happening?!" Cross asks, looking to Killer.

"It's his magic, it's fucked... He's been like this for weeks now, only getting worse. He finally got weak enough that he couldn't fight me when I brought him here. He needs you. His soul does. I know it."

Nightmare makes a frustrated little growl of a noise, "I don't need anything! I have my life, Cross has his! I will not destroy it agai- gh!" He makes a wounded sound, and his jaw closes so fast his teeth click together as he goes rigid in Cross' arms. He's clawing at his own ribs and breathing heavily as he grits his teeth through the pain. Cross holds him closer, packing healing, loving intent into the kisses he lays upon Night's skull.

"It's going to be okay. I'm right here, you have me always... Come on, I've got a spare room ready, mine's a mess..." He says, then glances at Killer and adds, "follow me." Cross walks out of the foyer and past the kitchen, to a little set of stairs that leads to the second floor. The second room on the right is where he takes them.

It's a pristine room, cozy, and the first thing Killer sees is Nightmare's favorite flowers sitting on a vase in the nightstand. The whole room seems made with them in mind. A big bed sits in the middle of the room, the way Nightmare loves. There's a single window with blackout curtains over it, already drawn shut. There's a dresser with pictures of them both... Good god. He really was just waiting. How often does he replace those flowers? Wash the sheets? Sweep the floors? Buy clothes with them in mind?

He'd missed them. Dearly.

Cross settles Nightmare into bed, taking off his shoes and cloak, and tucking him under the covers. "What can I do for you?" He asks.

"I'm not your responsibility."

"You're my everything. How can I help?"

Nightmare glares at Killer, tearfully. He wants this so bad. He needs this. He misses Cross so painfully much. It's obvious. Killer stares back at him levely, firm and controlled, yet still so clearly loving. There's a tension between them too thick for any blade to cut for a long moment. It takes about half that moment for it to disappear. Nightmare relents, giving into whatever battle of wills they were just having.

"Water... And I'm... I'm cold." He chokes out.

Cross looks at him so softly. Nightmare is shaking, he has been this whole time, he looks weak. It's scary. Cross has never seen him in so much pain. He looks small, like this. He's always been short, of course, but he's always been strong too. Bold, brash, it makes him seem like the biggest and baddest in the room.

How did he end up like this?

"I'll get the water, kitchen was downstairs on the left, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good, you just get the boss nice n warm," Killer says with a grin.

Cross flushes warmly, "uhm... My partners, Horror and Dust, they're out right now. But they know who you both are... They'll be home soon, so uh, don't worry about it if they do."

"Thanks for the heads up Crossy," Killer says, sauntering off.

Suddenly, everything feels just like it used to. They're back. They're his. He couldn't be happier. Cross slips into bed beside Night, sliding an arm under his ribs and pulling him close to his side.

"That... Any warmer?"

Night is flushed a soft violet, "yeah... Yeah it is." He curls into his side. He looks so tired.