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“Aw, you don’t all have to come with,” Killer insists. “It’s just a cat food and litter run. Nothin’ exciting.”
“The pet store is exciting!” Misery cheers as she puts on her light-up sneakers. “I like to look at the fish! And the hamsters! And the birdies! And-”
“Yeah, I know it’s lotsa fun for you , princess,” he chuckles, bending down to help her tie her laces. “But I don’t think there’s much for everybody else to do.” Killer gives a pointed look to the rest of the group, already dressed and ready to go.
It used to be an errand that Killer would run on his own; he'd occasionally be able to needle Cross, Horror, or Dust into joining him. Ever since Misery came along, though, it'd become an errand the whole group would join him for. He had to admit it was nice having some company for it, but he knew it was much more exciting for the kiddos than it was for the rest of the gang.
“Litter n’ food are heavy. You got twig arms,” Horror says with a smirk, “I'll carry ‘em for you.”
“Rude!” Killer gasps, though it doesn't keep the smile from his face.
“And Mel likes to watch the fish, too! Don't you, lil buddy?” Cross chimes in. Melancholy is being held securely in Dust's arms, pouting as they try and fail to squirm out of the baby booties Cross velcros onto their feet.
“And I am the one footing the bill,” Nightmare reminds Killer. Usually, they didn’t worry about paying. When running errands and going on supply runs, they usually just… “borrow” whatever they need. But this was Killer's favorite pet supplies store, and he'd like to maintain a good relationship with the employees there.
“Besides,” Nightmare adds, smile softening, “it’s nice to go on these little outings as a family.”
“Aww, you big softie,” Killer teases.
“Heh, ‘little outing?’” Dust joins in the teasing. “You sure are dressed up for a little outing to the pet store.”
Killer finishes tying Misery's shoes, so she chimes in with a little twirl to swish her fluffy tutu, “You don't have to go someplace fancy to dress fancy! Do a spin!”
“At least someone agrees,” Nightmare smiles as he does a matching twirl of his own, his long black trench coat flaring out around him. “One doesn’t need a special occasion to look their best, do they?”
“no, nonono,” Mel whines, squirming even harder as Cross finishes zipping up their little puffy jacket. They hate getting dressed up in anything other than their usual soft onesies, and they couldn’t exactly reason with the little guy and explain that it wasn’t onesie weather.
“Aw, geeze. C’mon, lil buddy, it’s cold outside,” Dust still tries, gently bouncing the babybones in his arms.
“no!” Mel cries, ensuring their displeasure won’t go ignored as their pouty lip starts to wobble and they take a deep breath, preparing to let loose a mighty wail.
“Uh-oh,” Misery mutters, cringing as she braces for the imminent meltdown.
But before Mel can start crying, Horror quickly scrambles to procure a bargaining chip- literally, a single banana chip.
They all hold their breath as Mel pauses and silently considers the offering. There’s about a 25% chance the offer will be rejected, and all hell will break loose.
“...mmph.”
But today fate smiles up on them because Mel accepts the banana chip and chows down. They level a stare at Horror that’s far too serious for their round little face, a silent understanding between them: keep the snacks coming, and Mel will tolerate this outing.
“That was close,” Horror says as they all let out a sigh of relief.
“Maybe I should just stay home with them,” Cross starts to reconsider, reaching to take the babybones into his own arms. Mel is content with it, holding out their hand for another banana chip. “I don’t want’em to be miserable the whole time…”
“Nah, you’re right, lil guy does like to see the fish,” Dust insists, patting Cross on the back. “They just hate having to get dressed to do it.”
“I promise they’ll forget their discomfort as soon as we get there,” Nightmare reassures, and their babybone’s annoyance is already visibly fading as they eat their snack. “Unfortunately, they do have to learn that they can’t wear their pajamas everywhere…”
“They’re smart. They know already... And they figured out that if they make a fuss they can get a treat out of it,” Horror muses. He hands the babybones another chip anyway, chucking as they practically inhale it. “You’re playin’ us like a fiddle, aren’t you, honeydew?”
Mel has the sweetest look on their face as they munch on their chip, as if they hadn't been on the verge of a tantrum a minute ago. “Yeah, they definitely know what they’re doin’. Manipulative little cutie,” Killer says with equal parts endearment and alarm, because they're really good at manipulating them all. He’s both impressed and intimidated at the same time.
“Me too? I’m cute too, right?” Misery chimes in, breaking out a very convincing trembling lip as she holds out a hand to plead for banana chips, too.
“Yep,” Horror can’t help but agree as he gives up the goods. “Cute and manipulative.” Their little princess responds with a very cute, very practiced smile.
As soon as they step into the pet store Mel begins to whine and squirm in the direction of the fish tanks. Cross obliges, carrying them off to see the fish while Misery darts off to look at an enclosure of parakeets, Dust hot on her trail to supervise.
“We should adopt a birdie!” Misery insists, tapping the glass enthusiastically. “Well, at least two, but maybe more, so they won’t be lonely!”
“We’ve already got plenty of critters at home; Kiki’s cats, my pet rats, Papa’s chickens- we’re practically living in a zoo, Miz,” Dust chuckles.
“But we don’t have birdies yet!”
“Papa’s chickens are birds.”
“They don’t count because they’re mean and they peck me!”
Killer chuckles at the exchange as he, Nightmare and Horror pass by the birds on their way to the cat care aisles. “Kid’s got a point, H, why are your chickens little bullies?”
“Those’re love pecks,” Horror insists. “Not their fault that’s the only way they can show it. Tried tellin’ the princess, but she still thinks they just got bad manners.”
“Well, either convince Misery or teach the chickens better manners, because we will absolutely not be adopting any more pets,” Nightmare sighs dramatically, as if he hadn’t caved and let Killer take in another stray cat he’d found during a mission two weeks ago.
Killer doesn’t mention what a softie Nightmare is, but does play into that softness a bit. “Well, never say never. Maybe when the kids are a little older and can take care of their own pets. I bet our lil’ Melonhead would love having a few pet fish at home, don’tcha think?”
Horror can’t help but coo at the idea. “Aww… bet they’d be glued to the tank watchin’em swim for hours.”
And as Killer predicts, Nightmare’s expression immediately softens despite the insistence about “absolutely no more pets” about thirty seconds before. “Hm… well, all the parenting books I’ve read do say caring for a pet can help teach them about responsibility… Yes, maybe when Melancholy is a bit older we should look into that.”
Killer and Horror share a knowing smile as Nightmare begins mumbling about the logistics of getting a proper aquarium tank for Mel. Nightmare is big on his parenting and child psychology books, sure, but what he loves more than any of those books is just treating the kids at every opportunity. He takes a lot of pride in having the power and the means to give the kids whatever their little souls desire, and more importantly, make them happy. Nightmare even suggests stopping to look at the fish care aisle before they leave.
Yup, what a damn softie.
They reach the cat care section of the store where Horror makes a bee-line for Killer’s preferred litter and loads a few bulk bags into their shopping cart before moving on to food. It’s something small really, but the fact the big guy remembers the type of litter and the cats’ favorite foods still makes Killer’s soul feel a little fluttery.
Once their cart is full of litter, kibble, and wet food, they let themselves browse for a bit to give the kiddos some more time to look at the animals. Killer and Horror add a healthy amount of treats to the cart, while Nightmare slips in some salmon oil for keeping the cats’ coats soft and shiny (“They should be able to take pride in their appearance!”). And then they pick up some more toys for the more rowdy cats that tear up their toys more frequently than the others.
It's while they're shopping for cat toys that they suddenly hear a loud wail break out on the other side of the store, and they immediately recognize it as their baby’s wailing.
“Aw shit, that's Mel,” Killer curses, knowing that if their babybones is this upset it'll likely signal the end of their outing. A wail like that usually means they can't be calmed down until they're back home in their comfort zone.
Nightmare moves to the end of the aisle presumably to go help try to calm down the baby, but before he gets far the sound of Mel’s cries quickly grows closer and closer until Cross finds them, their now fussy and squirmy babybones in tow. “Hey big guy, got any more of those chips for Mel?” Cross asks, antsily bouncing the baby on his hip to try and placate them.
Cross didn’t really have to ask, as Horror had reflexively procured the banana chips from his inventory as soon as he heard their baby crying. He hands one to the babybones, who doesn’t immediately stop crying but does begin to munch on their chip through whimpers and tears running down face. “Aw, what’s the matter, Honeydew?” Horror coos as he keeps the chips coming. “Thought you were havin’ fun with the fish?”
“They were, ‘til we realized they’re out of Mel’s favorite,” Cross sighs. “Those glow-in-the-dark ones? The tank was empty and they were real bummed. I tried distracting’em but it really upset’em.”
“fiss,” Mel pitifully blubbers through a mouthful of banana, corroborating Cross’ story. “fissies!”
“Aw, sorry about the fishies, lil guy,” Killer tuts, trying to cheer them with a gentle noogie, which usually coaxes at least a giggle from the babybones but today only elicits more whimpers.
“Oh, my poor darling,” Nightmare croons as he takes Mel from Cross into his own arms, cradling them against his chest and pressing a kiss to the crown of their little skull. Nightmare never uses his powers to purposely calm down the kids when they’re upset, but just being near his aura tends to help some. Soon enough Mel’s cries and whimpers taper off, though they still sniffle as he wipes the tears from their flushed cheeks.
Dust and Misery join them as the baby is finally starting to settle. “We heard Mel crying, everything okay?” Dust asks, though he quickly notices Mel’s tear-stained face. “Aw, what happened, lil’ buddy?”
“Melly-bean, what’s wrong?” Misery asks, her own eyes welling with empathetic tears as she takes in her baby sibling’s distraught emotions. “Are they okay?”
“They’re fine, just upset they didn’t get to see their favorite fish,” Cross reassures them.
“We got everything we came for,” Killer says, “We should finish up and pay so we can get the babybones home.”
With no disagreements, they move to leave the aisle and head to pay at the front of the store, but before they can leave the aisle Mel begins to whine again, but more energetically this time.
“Oh, what is it now, my love?” Nightmare coos as he rocks them.
Following the babybones’ line of sight to the cat toys, Killer notices that they’re focused on one in particular that’s fallen to the bottom shelf. He picks up the toy, a plush cheeseburger, the fabric crinkling under his touch and a soft bell chiming as he lifts it. “Huh. Is this what you saw, kiddo?” Killer asks, shaking it to make the bell tinkle.
It's comical and adorable how wide Mel’s eyes go as they hone in on the toy, the magic of their eyes blown out in fascination. They whine insistently as they reach out for it with grabby-hands. Killer obliges in handing them the toy, and they’re immediately entranced, squeezing the fabric to hear it crinkle and shaking it for the cheerful-sounding bell. Their pouty lip and sniffly nose are completely forgotten in favor of thoroughly examining the new toy.
“A cat toy?” Dust wonders aloud, “That’s all they wanted?”
“A burger cat toy,” Horror chuckles. “They got good taste.”
“burber,” Mel parrots Horror, still intensely focused on the toy.
“What!” Cross gasps in offense, taken aback by how quickly the babybones picked up the new word. “It takes you months to learn ‘mom,’ and then you go and learn ‘burger’ in two seconds!”
“burber,” Mel mumbles again, apparently in confirmation.
“You’re kidding,” Nightmare says bluntly, equally as dumbfounded for his own reasons; “I get you the most expensive, custom-made plushies from the best toymakers in the multiverse- and you’d prefer the tacky, cheap cat toy?”
Mel's counterargument is, predictably, “burber.”
Nightmare pinches the bridge of his nasal bone in frustration. “That's not the point- the point is that I could commission you a cheeseburger plushie of the finest silks, with diamond sesame seeds, and you'd still pick the cat toy?” Nightmare pointedly looks at the tag on the toy, and wilts even further. “Oh my god- a cat toy on clearance.”
“...I think it's nice!” Misery chimes in with a smile. “If Melly likes it!”
“The soul wants what it wants,” Killer shrugs, trying not to laugh at Nightmare's pained expression. “C’mon, Night, lookit how happy that cheap lil’ thing makes’em.”
Nightmare begrudgingly glances back down at the babybones bones in his arms contentedly playing with the crinkly fabric and cheerful bell of their new fascination, and Killer sees his expression morph from one of personal offence to one of resigned disappointment- and a quick flash of fondness before it’s reigned in for the sake of keeping up appearances.
With a long, dramatic sigh, Nightmare concedes, turning Mel around in his arms to face him to address the baby seriously. “I do not understand what goes on in your little head, Melancholy… But if this piece of mass-produced garbage makes you happy, then you shall have it.”
Finally, a delighted little smile graces the babybones’ face, and they triumphantly reply, “burber!”
“Yes, yes, the cheeseburger is yours.”
“Aw, look at that smile,” Dust coos. “That happy over a bargain-bin-burger.”
Misery sees the happy moment as an opportunity, and she tugs on Nightmare’s coat with her very practiced pouty lip. “If Melly gets a toy, can I adopt birdie? Pleeease?”
“Those two are not comparable in the slightest,” Nightmare answers bluntly, unaffected by her admittedly powerful pout. “Perhaps if you are still interested in a month, we can talk about considering getting you a pet bird.” A good call, Killer thinks, considering Misery’s current track record with pet requests is that she tends to get distracted and fall in love with a completely different animal within a week.
The compromise, though, is letting Misery pick out her own cat toy, a bird with pretty blue fabric that she creatively names “Birdie.” There’s a good chance she won’t keep it for herself, and instead give it to Killer’s cats to play with when they get back to the castle, but she’s having fun and that’s all that matters.
Mel is already decidedly attached to their new toy, whining when they reach the register to pay and Nightmare tries to gently pry it from them to hand to the cashier- who thankfully, tells them they can hang onto it, and she reaches over to pull off the tag to scan instead.
“Someone’s got good taste!” she nods to the babybones, happily playing with the toy’s crinkly fabric.
“burber,” Mel babbles in agreement.
With the goods paid for and their mission accomplished, Nightmare opens a portal back to the castle. Killer and Horror make their way to the cats’ rooms (really, it was more like the cats’ wing of the castle that Nightmare had given them so they could have free range) to put away the newly purchased supplies, Misery joining them to gift them “Birdie”, as predicted. Once the litter is put away and the cats are fed, Misery drags Horror to the kitchen for a snack of her own, and Killer goes to find the others.
He finds Nightmare, Cross and Dust in Mel’s room, hovering over the babybones’ crib. He joins them beside it, about to ask what they’re up to, before he peers into the crib for himself and sees their sweet babybones’ changed into one of their favorite soft onesies, already fast asleep and cuddling their new cheeseburger close.
“Okay, that’s fucking adorable,” Killer whispers fondly.
“They could barely hold their head up while I was changing them,” Cross coos, looking like his soul might implode at any second. “Conked out as soon as I set them down.”
“Big day for a little guy,” Dust comments, reaching down to wipe a trail of drool from their chin. “Still didn’t let go of their new favorite toy for even a second though.”
“I hate that hideous thing,” Nightmare gestures to the toy with a sigh, “but I couldn’t deny them anything their little soul desired even if I wanted to.”
“Aw,” Killer throws an arm around his mates and gives them a quick squeeze as they watch the babybones sleep peacefully for a few moments more. “You big softie.”
What a nice family outing.