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Tonight is hardly the first time that Cross has slept over at Epic's since they rekindled their friendship following XTale's destruction, but it's the first time that Epic actually plans on sleeping. His nightmares have been improving, through a combination of twice-weekly therapy, multiple medications, and journaling, and he's actually been sleeping several nights a week.
He hasn't had to fight his nightmare creatures since Gaster was neutralized. Of course, that didn't stop them from coming back in dreams brought on by trauma — which is the biggest reason that it took him over a year to realize that he was actually dreaming , not fighting the creatures for real.
His hypothesis is that unconscious conditioning over the years has led to psychosomatic responses from his body, which is why he still feels so damn sore after dreaming about the creatures. But he knows that he isn't actually fighting them, because they can cut through his bones in his dreams, and he won't wake up in excruciating pain anymore. Now, it's just a residual soreness, like an overused muscle.
And his theory for why the creatures are no longer creatures and are now just dreams is that somehow, even after being implanted in his skull, the eye was connected to Gaster. Gaster had told him that he saw the creatures too, but whether that was only after his eye had been given to Epic was anyone's guess.
Of course, the old man was gone now — good riddance — so it's likely Epic will never know.
The long and short of it is that Epic can actually sleep about three days a week, and he's hoping tonight will be one of them. He still has issues sleeping even beyond nightmares — mostly insomnia, which started first from the fear of the creatures, then graduated into just being his normal state, since he had preferred to sleep as little as usual when the eye still "worked".
Hopefully, even if he doesn't sleep, he'll be able to get out of bed and/or just chill, so he doesn't wake up Cross, if Cross manages to sleep. Insomnia seems to be a recurring feature for people like them — people who were "Sans" and then suddenly were not. He knows Cross has mentioned that almost everyone who lives with him under Nightmare's watch has insomnia, or some other kind of sleep problem.
If he was a psychologist, it might be an interesting thing to look into. A study on the correlation between being the "Sans" in a universe, and the trauma-related symptoms that developed after becoming multiversally aware.
As he thinks, Cross returns from the bathroom, having changed into his pajamas. Like his normal clothing, it includes a long-sleeved black shirt, although this one isn't a turtleneck. His pants are different, though — instead of his shorts, he's wearing pajama pants patterned with dogs, likely a gift from one of his housemates/coworkers/possibly lovers. He's also barefoot, which is a brave choice considering that Epic is… not very good at vacuuming.
"Nice toes, bruh," Epic says jokingly, flashing Cross finger-guns. Cross responds by attempting to bean him in the head with his dirty clothing. He misses spectacularly, mostly because the clothes fall out of the ball that Cross forced them into before throwing them.
Zero points for Cross, one point for air resistance, Epic supposed.
Cross collects his clothing to stuff in his bag, before flopping onto the bed. Epic joins him, kicking his feet up on top of Cross's. When Cross looks at him with mostly-fake annoyance, Epic shoots him an award-winning grin. And, of course, a wink.
Then — big mistake — Epic starts taking his fingerless gloves off.
"Huh, I figured you slept in those," Cross says, though he trails off suddenly as Epic tosses his left glove onto his nightstand.
"Nah, I just, you know, I've had issues sleeping for a bit, y'know? So I'm actually planning on sleeping tonight," Epic replies as he takes the right glove off. "S'like a bellwether for my sleep problems."
Cross is quiet, and when Epic looks up, he has a far away look on his face. "Bruh?"
No response. He can't remember if he's ever taken his gloves off in front of Cross, come to think of it. He really only takes them off for sleeping and showering, and he still doesn't do a lot of sleeping.
He does know that Cross has an insane amount of trauma from his Gaster.
Who had holes in his hands. Just like Epic's.
"Ah, shit." Epic reaches for his gloves again, putting them back on quickly.
Cross is still quiet, his hands fisted tightly in his lap. He's sweating now, too, and though Epic has to strain to hear it, his bones are rattling with anxiety. If he looks closely, too, it looks like Cross is struggling to keep his hands from shaking.
"Cross," Epic calls softly. "You gotta breathe, buddy, come on."
He doesn't want to know what Cross is remembering right now, because it surely isn't good. He doesn't want to touch him, either, because while a shove might snap him out of whatever flashback he's having, it definitely wouldn't be a pleasant wake up.
Epic settles in front him, on his knees across from where his friend is sitting cross-legged (heh) on the bedspread. He's still stock-still, although the rattling from his bones is a little louder now.
His sockets are wide, and his mismatched eyelights are unseeing. In the corner of his sockets, Epic can see tears pooling a bit.
Thoughtfully, Epic holds up one of his re-covered hands. "Hey, Crossy. All good now, see?" Cross's eyelights flick to him, so at least now Epic knows he's aware that he's there. "You wanna try and breathe for me, bruh?"
There's a soft, wheezing sort of noise as Cross tries. "Good job, buddy," Epic encourages him. It sounds like he's trying to do something like box breathing, although he's not holding his breath between inhaling and exhaling. Still, it's slow and measured, which is fine.
"There you go, bruh," Epic says, putting a hand on Cross's shoulder. Cross doesn't flinch, so hopefully he's starting to come down from it. "You want some water or something?"
This time, he gets a response — a shake of Cross's head. It takes a moment, but he finally speaks. "Sorry, dude."
"'Bout what? All good, bruh," Epic replies as he squeezes Cross's shoulder, determined to not let him internalize this as some sort of personal failing.
"Having a flashback from seeing your bestie's hands is not good," Cross argues.
"So? Neither of us knew that would happen. Don't beat yourself up about it, bruh."
Cross doesn't respond, clearly too busy beating himself up about it. Exactly as Epic said he shouldn't . "You are stubborn , bruh."
"You're too nice to me."
"What, am I supposed to be taking you being triggered by my hands as an insult?" Cross's averted gaze and non-response says it all. "Bruh, it's not your fault that your dad was shitty, and that my dad said — " Epic affects a silly voice " — 'Hmrg! I shall create a creature capable of destroying the barrier and create it in my glorious image, a skeleton with stupid holes in its hands!'"
That gets a laugh out of Cross. Zero points for Cross's PTSD, one point for Epic.
"Anyway, I don't think you've even seen my hands before," Epic shrugs. "So it's not like you knew about this."
"...I didn't even realize that they would be a trigger for me, dude."
"Exactly. So stop beating yourself up about it."
Cross sighs, nodding. He finally sits back a bit, relaxing into the pillows. Epic does likewise, still keeping a close eye on his friend's face.
"...Epic?"
"Yeah, bruh?"
"I don't think I'm gonna be able to sleep now."
"You wanna go watch some more episodes of that new anime instead?"
"Yeah, dude."
(Cross ends up falling asleep on the couch, but Epic just dozes. Zero points for Epic, one point to trauma-related sleep issues. But at least he'll have a good excuse for not sleeping when his therapist asks him.)