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Summary
Cross, like his teammates had a long list of issues. But unlike them, he really didn't have much of a reason to have them.
Sure, his universe wasn't the best, but unlike Horror he didn't go through famine. Unlike Nightmare, he wasn't completely alienated, and beaten to near death. His situation was more similar to that of Killer's and Dust's- but unlike them, he doesn't bear the burden of thousands of resets, killing everyone.
Cross felt utterly pathetic that he would contemplate his own demise. Hours spent staring at his ceiling, losing sleep as he simply thought it over. He had no real reason to feel the misery he did. He never would of course, too scared to truly act on anything. Yet still night after night, he found himself pondering the idea
