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harper-collins · 1 year ago

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'Tis only a Nightmare... Right?

Cross-Posting this on Ao3, but a fun little weird oneshot, enjoy!

Cross sat down next to the window, quietly watching the rain outside. He wondered whether he made the right decision, all those years back. Had he chosen the right side? Sighing, he turned to look at the desk near the midst of his room. It held a book, one he’d been given by someone rather special to him.

Cross hesitantly stood up and walked towards the book. He grabbed it and sat back down in the chair next to the window and got comfortable before flicking it open. It was a photo album. Not many people had them now, especially with the electronic future they were heading towards, but these pictures were immortalised memories, and he could look at them whenever, as long he had the book nearby.

When he’d first been given the album, there had been a note inside. Cross had long since added it to the end of the selection of pictures. He examined every photo as he slowly went through the album. Pictures of him, and everyone in the bad sanses. Killer, Dust, Horror and Nightmare… With Error infrequently appearing in the backgrounds. He never enjoyed taking photos.

There were a few of Dust and Horror playing games, chatting with each other, some with Killer being there as well, being the ‘Murder Time Trio’ that they’d labelled themselves before Cross had appeared in their lives. Some pictures had them laughing, with Cross being awkwardly dragged in, the ball of anxiety he was looking panicked in the majority of his pictures.

There were a few rare ones of him genuinely laughing with a happy expression, or smiling. Yet, they were always taken when he wasn’t staring at the camera… He was either reacting to a joke or staring at someone in particular. That person being Nightmare. The Guardian of Negativity tended to blend in with the dark environment, so it was difficult to see him properly… With there only being a few pictures of him out in the open.

He stopped on a certain page, almost choking up in tears as he looked down at the picture in question. He and Nightmare, their first hug, immortalised in a picture. Cross had been going through a particularly rough patch, to the point he had been thinking of leaving them all behind and working by himself… Yet, Nightmare had grounded him, the trio had grounded him.

It poured a feeling of guilt into his soul as he remembered that was the exact reason he was here he was right now. He was living with the Star Sanses now, it hadn’t been his plan originally either. At first, he had just wanted to take a temporary leave, but getting lost in travelling mixed with the fact Nightmare knew he wanted time alone only made Cross feel worse until Ink found him.

He’d brought the monochrome to Dream, and he’d been in ‘lockdown’ ever since, with the other Guardian nursing his emotions. It reminded Cross greatly of the times he’d been in the Royal Guard and he’d been given anti-depressant medication to get through the days, especially when it’d gotten bad.

It was as if there was a barrier between him and the turmoil, the world and his emotions generally. He felt numb, but not to the point he couldn’t feel anything. Realising he had been going on a tangent he turned back to the photo album on his lap, only to realise he’d left purple tears across the album. Thankful that the photos were covered in plastic, Cross wiped the page with his sleeve, which was already wet from the continuous repeat of this exact task.

He then briefly thought back to how he’d gotten the photo album. Killer had tried first. He’d come waltzing over to the Dream sanses base, trying to get inside to chat with Cross in particular, yet he’d been denied entry and almost fought Blue as a result of trying to push his way into the building. Killer had only given them mercy due to the fact they were helping Cross… Or at least, he presumed that was what Nightmare was telling him.

Next had been Horror, for his kind nature, and continuous worry for the monochrome. Yet, Ink had been in charge that day, and he’d been sent back to the castle without much argument. It was then that Nightmare himself had come into play during the night. He’d appeared in the night and left the book on his desk, ready for him to find it in the morning with the note intact.

Cross stared at the photo again, with him and Nightmare. It felt as though someone, something was trying to tell him something, through the wall. As if a part of him was screaming at him to listen, but nothing could be heard. Cross began to let his phalanges trace over the page, as he wondered what to do. Close the album there, like he always did, or go further this time. Explore further.

Despite it being such a simple task, the action felt perilous, as if it was going to break him. Yet, this time, Cross couldn’t care less. As he turned the page, he saw something new, and reality came crashing down on him. It was him coming back from the star sanses. Cross had to do a double take around the room to check where he was.

But no, he was still supposedly in the room he’d been given by the trio. Hesitantly, Cross stood up, keeping the book in tow. He walked over to the door and pried it open. The door didn’t seem to enjoy that, but after Cross used a little more force than before, it opened up to… An unexpected scene.

It appeared to try and look like another hallway in Nightmare’s castle, but it was… Broken? Cross couldn’t think of the right word. Everything that usually littered the hallways, pictures, small cabinets, things on said cabinets… They were either broken or on the floor. Cross turned back to his room to see it very much looked different.

Feeling incredibly unsettled in himself, he turned towards the end of the corridor to see more mess. Quietly, the monochrome turned and closed the door to the room behind himself and began to walk down the corridor, wondering what on earth was going on. None of this made sense.

Walking down and towards the living room took a lot longer than normal, more because Cross was desperately trying to right what he could as he continued walking down the path. What would Nightmare think? Who could or would he blame the mess on? The monochrome wasn’t sure, but he wanted to limit the amount the Guardian got angry, in fear for both himself and his comrades.

When he did eventually find himself in the living room, he realised how normal it looked in comparison to everything he’d seen before then. As he continued to investigate, he saw someone lying on the couch, which got Cross fumbling his way towards them.

“Killer? Is that you? I’m so—” The word confused stayed on his nonexistent tongue as he stopped at the couch, entirely frozen. Parts of Killer were dusting away which only caused a shriek to rip out of the monochrome. All at once, there was movement. As Cross moved away, there was movement in the kitchen… And Killer moved.

The sound of thunder from outside rippled through the house which only caused the monochrome to feel twice as scared and confused as he was before, and Horror came into view, wearing an apron as if he had just come from cooking. Traditionally it made sense, but Cross knew that Horror never wore an apron, he didn’t care about the stains that might come from cooking for all of them.

Killer sat up, looking in Cross’ direction as Horror came closer. “This is your fault Cross, why didn’t you stay with us?” The two spoke in unison, causing Cross to stumble backwards and hit the back of his legs on the coffee table. Suddenly the world moved as the monochrome fell on the floor, hitting his head in the process.

“No, I wanted to come back! I didn’t want to leave you—”

“But you left us, and look what’s happened…” The two spoke before Killer began to talk by himself, his voice haunting in a way that made Cross almost scream. “I’m dying Crossy… If you were there, I wouldn’t have been hurt!” He screeched, walking closer as the monochrome backed himself into a corner.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real,” Cross desperately told himself as he covered his eyes and whimpered. He heard Horror’s light laugh and then the sound of the two lunging towards him. He waited for a heaver skeleton on top of him, someone trying to rip his hands away from his face… But there was nothing. In fact, he couldn’t even feel the thing he’d backed into anymore.

Slowly, and shakily, Cross brought his arm away from his face, only to be met with Nightmare. His gaze was piercing and the monochrome shivered under the watchful eyelight. His tentacles were flicking behind himself, as if impatient.

“Finally, I thought you’d never wake up,” he snarkily spoke, unlike the Nightmare he knew, who put more care than that into the people he enlisted in his little group. “What…” Cross lightly mumbled to himself, only to have Nightmare turn back and stare daggers into him. “Stay in here. There is no need for you to free-roam,” he spat out, leaving the room.

Cross stared at the door for a long moment before getting out of bed. He turned towards the window to see the same rainy window that was at the Star sanses base… The room he’d been given. Shaking his head, not wanting to repeat what already happened, Cross grabbed the memory album left on the desk once more and left the room. Nightmare was nowhere to be found.

Everything the monochrome had fixed before was… Broken or on the floor again… Gulping, Cross opened the album and began to flicker through the memories, all the way to the ones he’d seen before. He continued to look through them, seeing memories and memories that he’d forgotten, happier memories.

Ones where they were on a day out, or ones where they were training with one another. There was also one where Cross and Nightmare were holding hands… Blushing lightly, he continued going through until he got to the last picture, with the note next to it. The last one was a picture of the trio watching, with Error in a portal watching. To the right of them, there was Nightmare, who had his tentacles curled around Cross’ bones as they kissed.

Looking up and around, he realised that he was not in the hallway of the castle anymore. In fact, he was in a separate, spare guest room in the castle he knew he hadn’t walked anywhere near. He was in front of a door, with a nice-looking bed behind it. But after what he’d experienced, he wasn’t about to sleep over it.

Taking a deep breath, Cross opened the door and stepped through, ignoring the blinding light that overtook his eyesight as he continued walking. That was… Until he blacked out.

#writing #cross! sans #nightmares gang #killer sans #horror sans #nightmare sans #this is so weird #like it turned from angst to horror-esc to weird during the writing of this #going to be a series of sorts #but probably wont be posting it all for a while #unless it gets super popular #but they're all just separate oneshots compiled into a series #ut aus

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