Chapter Text
The castle is cold. It always was. He bundled up in layers that took almost an hour to put on and the chill still reached his bones. Sometimes, he wondered how the others managed with only a jacket. LOVE, probably.
He shivered. Part of him wished he was still rolled up in blankets in his room with the fire lit so he could pretend to be lukewarm. But he could be found there. No one ever looked here, up in the clocktower that didn’t even have the gall to work.
Dust had gone there once, turning right around and saying that “It made Papyrus uneasy.” Killer thought it was boring. Horror never went up past the second floor, and Nightmare avoided it like the plague.
That left him the perfect place to hide.
It probably meant something important that he’d rather deal with the cold than his “teammates”.
Still, it was a safe haven and it was all his. No Killer barging in at random, no “gifts” that probably came from Nightmare and left him with nightmares, no Horror coming in all bloody and offering him an arm or a chicken, no Dust dragging him into impromptu experiments. It was just him, the cold, and lovely, endless silence. He could actually think up here, so far away from the chaos the others seemingly couldn’t live without.
Really, the cold was the only drawback. He should bring up some blankets, maybe a couple candles. The work would be worth the peace.
A crash sounded from the keep below. Something must've happened for him to hear it from here. He should go help.
…But his bones felt stiff and frozen, and none of the others helped him when he screwed up. He could stay here just a little longer. Just until he warmed up.
The moon shone in from its permanent fixture in the sky. It used to scare him, when he first came here. It simply never moved, never changed, lighting up the castle and the desolate forest in a menacing red glow. It was unnatural. Everything in this Stars-forsaken AU was unnatural.
His phone rang. His fingers were so numb that it quieted before he fumbled it out of his pocket.
A missed call, from Killer. And various text messages telling him to get back to the castle. He turned off the phone. He just didn’t have the energy for this.
“They don’ treat’cha very nice.”
He yelps and summons a knife. The child blinks at him, unimpressed.
The first thing Cross notices is how warm they are.
The second is how out of place they look, with their brightly colored clothing and their half-solemn frown. Nothing about them seems even vaguely threatening. That should be ringing alarm bells in his head, but he’s too distracted by the warmth to care.
Their eyes are yellow. He’s never seen a skeleton with yellow eyes before, not even when Ink overdoses on yellow before fighting Nightmare.
“Sorry,” he tells them. “You startled me.”
He hasn’t apologized to anyone since he came here. No one here deserved it.
They giggle, and he’s immediately hooked on how light it sounds. He wants to hear it again.
“It’s okay.” they say concisely. They have an odd accent, like a mixture between a lark’s song and tinkling bells. “My brother used ta do that too.”
He doesn’t ask about the brother, or about what this kid is doing here all alone. He doesn’t even think about that.
Instead, he blurts out “You’re warm!” like some cringy seven-year-old.
They giggle again. He swears it gets warmer.
“I know.”
There’s a pause, but he isn’t really paying attention to anything other than warm.
“Do ya wanna play a game?”
He turns to look at them. They’d sat down next to him at some point, and they now shifted nervously. Somehow, he didn’t feel like nervousness and this kid should go together.
“What kind of game?”
They tilt their head like a puppy.
“Tag!” they decide, smiling in a carefree kind of way. “Me ‘n’ Nighty used ta play it all the time!”
“Okay,” he agreed. “Who’s It?”
“You!”
They run away giggling. He follows, surprising himself by chuckling.
The two of them chase each other until he’s feeling the kind of satisfied burning you get after a long, successful training session.
“That was fun!” the kid cheers, somehow not breathless. “We should play again sometime!”
He doesn’t even consider the implications of this child sticking around a place like this long enough for sometime.
“Sure.”
Their eyes turn to stars as they beam at him. The air around them gets even warmer.
“Really?”
“I said yes, didn’t I?”
“Yay!” They sound happier than anyone he’s ever talked to before. “I haven’t had a friend in ages!”
He doesn’t have the time to mull that over because his phone dings and he remembers that he has places to be.
“Ummm… I have to go…”
They frown, and he suddenly wishes he hadn’t said anything.
“Do you have to?”
He thinks really hard about how whatever Nightmare will do to him will be way worse than some random kid being upset.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
They nod with all the solemness a child can muster.
“It’s okay. I’ll take you back.”
They grab his hand, and the question at the tip of his tongue is forgotten. Despite the warmth they seem to radiate, their hand is just as cold as the stone floors of the castle. He doesn’t mind. He’s used to the cold. They weave through the gears and platforms like they’ve lived here for centuries. He vaguely wonders why he hasn’t seen them before.
They don’t talk, but their presence is comforting, so he doesn’t care. Besides, they’re warm, and warmth is a rare commodity in Nightmare’s realm.
“What’s your name?”
The child looked absolutely delighted that someone asked them that.
“My name’s Dream! Umm… What’s yours?”
He looked at the hopeful smile, the starry eyes, felt the warmth, and couldn’t not reply.
“Cross.”