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Cross liked to think that he was reasonable, at least as much as a magic skeleton could be. He couldn’t help but to think, though. He thought a lot, about a lot of things. Mundane things, concerning things, annoying things, spiral-inducing things, but most recently, Epic things.
Not that he was only thinking about Epic for hours on end. That was absolutely not what he did when he sat, alone, in complete silence in his colorful but still somehow bare and lonely house without people to talk to.
Maybe he should get a cat.
No, actually, he was thinking specifically about their last interaction. Worrying would be more accurate, if he were honest with himself. It had been days.
Epic hadn’t stayed very long after his nightmare, which hadn’t made all that much sense to Cross. Sure, Epic was probably tired, or maybe he dealt with things like nightmares differently than Cross did. Cross knew, sure as anything, that having his best friend right there after a nightmare would be better than the empty house that usually met him.
That might just be him, though. Because Epic left.
Then again…
The pieces of the Epic-shaped puzzle in his brain didn’t make a full picture. There were things about Epic that Cross wasn’t even sure his Toriel knew, and Epic had once talked about her for over 20 minutes straight.
Rationalizing what he knew versus how much he didn’t know helped, but he was still concerned. Epic had trouble sleeping sometimes, maybe even an issue with sleep itself. That, Cross knew from some of their deep late-night conversations. As deep as their conversations could get, anyway.
Maybe he had nightmares a lot, or really vivid ones. That would explain why he wouldn’t like sleeping, at least.
Cross sighed, and leaned his head back to stare at a different spot on the ceiling. He was lying on his back on his couch, staring up, like he had been for the last… he wasn’t even sure how long. Time through the multiverse was weird, especially in the Doodlesphere.
Thankfully, he at least had interesting things to stare at. Ink had made absolutely sure that Cross didn’t have any plain off-white walls in his house, and the ceiling similarly had not escaped the fate.
It only got overwhelming sometimes.
He blinked for the first time in what felt like hours.
The funny thing about having only one person visit him consistently in the months since he’d moved from Nightmare’s castle to the Doodlesphere of all places was that he had become dependent.
Disgustingly dependent. His every waking thought was either about Epic, or the fucking paint job on his ceiling. He rubbed his hands roughly down his face.
I really need to get out of my head, he thought.
A conveniently timed notification from his phone convinced him to take his hands off of his eye sockets.
He reached blindly at the coffee table for his phone. Unsuccessful at finding it with his hand, he sat up and stared at the phone for a moment.
He picked it up and turned on the screen, unconsciously holding his breath.
It was an app. One of the games Swap had recommended.
He scoffed and looked away sourly. Then he thought for a moment. He turned back to his phone.
Epic texted him after several hours of building up a small fortress and visiting a bit with Swap, who had logged in for a while after he had joined. They were already friends because Swap had added him when he downloaded the app onto Cross’ phone for him.
It was a nice conversation. He felt better after talking to someone.
He jumped slightly when he heard the ‘kame-hame-ha’ that Epic had insisted he use for his notification sound. He pulled up their texts.
Hey Bruh- sorry for disappearing on you like that
It’s alright Dude, I get it. Do you wanna hang out again soon or nah?
He would have cringed at how quickly he asked if he didn’t feel so suddenly desperate to fill the silence.
Is now okay?
____________________________________
Cross opened the door for his friend, their usual routine forgotten. Except for the super secret knock. And the slide. And everything else.
“DUDE!”
“BRUH!” Epic seemed to be okay. So Cross smiled, and let himself fall into their usual tackle-embrace.
“Let's go make some cookies, Dude,” Cross declared easily.
Epic sniffed, “You know me so well, Bruh.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye socket, and then the skeletons got up to go inside together.
Epic was much more awake this time around, Cross noticed, but he had started out awake the last time, too. He felt himself watching Epic far too often, to see if he acted in any way upset. But he was… fine.
So, he tried to let it go. And it worked, until they had finished making the cookies and were once again sitting on Cross’ living room couch, this time playing Kario Mart together.
Cross was focusing well enough, when Epic used a red turt to get ahead of him. He jumped, and hunched over with a curse when Epic laughed slightly and pulled ahead.
“Bruh, you’re so unfocused today! What gives?” Epic knocked his skull with his controller once they had finished the race.
“First of all, ouch, Dude! Second of all, I don’t know. I guess I’ve been a bit lonely? It’s nice to have you back, by the way.” Cross gave Epic a grin.
He looked up at the ceiling (the same as it was before) when Epic gave him a sad expression.
“Bruh, I know you’re gonna tell me it’s fine or whatever, but seriously, I’m sorry about not coming over or talking to you for the past few days.” When Cross attempted to speak, Epic interrupted him, “Ah, Bruh, let me finish.”
“As much as each individual, including myself, has their own problems, that doesn’t mean ghosting a friend is completely fine. I…” he trailed off. Cross looked at him again, and, seeing his expression, turned so he could show he was listening fully.
Epic sighed. He started again, “I do want to explain to you a bit more about what happened and all, both because I think you deserve an explanation, and because I want to tell you.”
“You really don’t-” Cross tried to reach out to him.
“Cross. My good Bruh. I just said I want to tell you.” Epic put his hands on Cross’ shoulders.
“Okay,” Cross looked up at him.
Epic didn’t speak. After a moment, he removed his hands from Cross’ shoulders and sat back on the couch. His eyelight left Cross’, a nervous expression on his face.
“Okay, so… stars, how do I start?” he paused. “Y’know how a lot of Gasters are, let’s say, less than friendly?”
Oh. He meant right then. Cross tensed slightly, but nodded.
“My Gaster is not an exception. As I’ve told you before, he was the Royal Scientist for… a long time,” he looked at Cross, and waited for him to nod again before continuing. “First of all, he created Paps and I. So we’re not the closest to the baseline, for skeletons.”
It wasn’t a common origin among the AUs, but it was still far from unheard of, at least for Sanses. Cross was only fairly certain he didn’t share the origin, but he could hardly trust his memory about his past, not with his proximity to XGaster.
He blinked. Epic continued.
“He’s also done a few other things… like, right now, I’m pretty sure he's stuck without a body ‘cause he tried to absorb the human’s soul a few years ago.”
That actually surprised Cross.
“Years?”
“Yeah, but the kid's got a hell of a lot of determination. It’ll take a while before he’ll even get close. It’s not like there’s much for me to do about it in the meantime,” Epic shuffled his position a bit, pulling his feet up onto the couch to hug his knees. Cross had never seen him act so uncomfortable.
“Anyway, uh… how about, did you notice anything in particular, when I had that nightmare?” Epic turned his face and met Cross’ eyelights with his.
Cross knew he was trying to find something to start with, an easier way to explain whatever he had dealt with. Which was fine by Cross, but it unsettled him to see his friend so unsure of his own words.
“Nightmares don’t usually have reactions that big, not without some sort of bad experience,” he’d known that before he’d ever touched a textbook. “And… your eye was glowing really brightly. Brighter than I’ve ever seen it outside of battle, now that I think about it,” Cross spoke in a low voice, keeping his tone as even as he could.
Epic sighed, “Yeah. I guess I can start there. My eye, the left one, isn’t mine.”
Cross felt his sockets widen in shock.
“Gaster made it. And, he made me take it.”
Cross felt his eyelights blip out. He blinked them back, and his voice came out more desperate than he liked.
“Were you missing the other one, or something?” He immediately cringed at himself, “Stars, sorry, I mean-”
“No, no, it’s a fair question. Don’t worry Bruh, I’m not mad,” Epic assured him. Almost as an afterthought, he added, “And, no, actually, I wasn’t.”
Cross stilled, and his breath escaped him without notice. He couldn’t help but to stare at his beloved friend. He was sure he looked angry.
Epic only sat with an understanding expression. When Cross realized what he was waiting for, he took a breath. He didn’t feel any less angry, but he was breathing.
“G made it for me. Something, something, I was useless because Paps was born with his magic eye but mine sucked. I was a faster learner, though, so I guess it was worth making. To him, anyway.”
Cross listened intently. He felt like he was being let to see through a window to gaze upon Epic’s very soul. To touch the scars it bore. He was honored to be trusted with it. He was horrified by what was likely only a portion of the damage.
“He wanted to control me, though. That much is obvious, because he's the only one who knows how to remove this stupid eye. It's magic, y’know, and when something is pure magic, it tends to have some sort of mind. My eye isn't sentient, I'm very sure of that, but Gaster didn't make it to fit me like a crutch or something, he made it to control me while still boosting my magic.”
“Naturally, it didn’t like me. Still doesn't. We don't fit together. My magic would probably be blue and yellow, like most Sanses, if not for it. But no, Gaster’s a power-hungry mother-fucker, so he made me an eye that he knew wouldn't work with me.”
“Epic?” He finally broke from his rant, blinking back into Cross’ living room. “You're okay here, Dude. You're not there.” Cross had his hands on Epic’s arms, and Epic managed to reel himself in a bit.
Cross opened his arms in silent question, and Epic gladly accepted the hug. He knew enough about magic, as any monster would, to know that using a magic your soul didn’t favor was often taxing and difficult. Epic was fantastic with his magic, and though Cross has never noticed it take a visible toll on him, he knew he was always tired after fights or big shows of magic.
Just the idea of being forced to only use a magic his soul didn’t favor nearly made Cross shudder, but he held it back so he could hold Epic more securely.
He felt so angry.
“Can I just… talk from here, for a while?” Epic hesitantly asked after another moment of quiet.
“Of course, Dude, whatever you need,” Cross continued to speak in a soft voice. Epic had nearly fallen asleep listening to Cross tell some stories from his guard days multiple times. His stories were always far from boring, so he knew it was just his voice. It flattered him.
“Thanks, Bruh,” Epic sighed and relaxed in his hold slightly. His chin was resting on Cross’ shoulder, so Cross shifted so they weren’t straining to sit up anymore, leaning against the back of the couch. It was a great couch.
“I said that Gaster’s the only one who knows how to take my stupid eye out. I found that out the hard way. My scar was actually my attempt to be free of it.” Cross quietly sucked in a breath, again, his rage bubbling up in his ribcage. He made sure to keep breathing, though, so Epic would continue. He did.
“It’s a constant pain. I don’t get the migraines as much as I used to, thankfully, but they’re still killer and I get the headaches all the time. That’s besides the fact that my eye socket just, always hurts. No matter what.”
Epic gave a big sigh and reached up to rub at his face. He sounded more stressed than anything, which astounded Cross. He was seething where he sat, wanting so much to find the bastard. Make him pay.
“Bruh, I can feel you boiling. Cool it or I’ll stop talking and I’ll never be able to bring this up again.” He poked at Cross’ forehead, a light glare on his face. Surprisingly, Cross felt himself calm down slightly at the reminder that Epic was… well, Epic. He wouldn’t hesitate to be blunt with Cross when he got too angry.
“Sorry. I will, 100%, help you take him down. If you want me to.”
Epic laughed a bit, and Cross was immensely proud of himself.
“No offense, Bruh, but as much as I hate my eye, the benefit of so much extra magic means I’m powerful. You… have guard training, I’ll give you that, but you’re not there yet.”
“Hey!” Cross cried indignantly, shoving a laughing Epic away by the shoulders. Seeing his face made Cross realize that he just needed a laugh. So he let it go with a huff. He pulled Epic back into the hug with a short grumble, though. He snorted, but quieted down again. There was another pause before he continued.
“I’ve even got the experience to back it up. Every time I try to sleep, my eye tries to kill me. And by my eye, I mean it’s got some sort of magic property that creates these… monsters, and I don’t mean the monsterkind type of monster. I mean like, a giant creature with a grudge hunts you down in the middle of the night trying to kill you kind of monster. And I have to fight them, every time I sleep,” his voice was shaking.
“It makes the pain awfully realistic, too. I still feel it when I wake up. It’s made me a pretty good fighter, but it’s gotten better at hunting me down.” Epic sighed again. “That’s pretty much everything the eye’s done to me. Not everything G’s done, but I don’t want to think about him anymore. It’s been years.”
A beat.
“Bruh?” Cross was clutching so tightly to Epic’s jacket, he was afraid he might tear it. Spots of wet eventually soaked through the fabric enough that Epic realized he was crying. “Woah, Bruh, what’s happening?”
“I’m- I’m sorry that happened to you,” Cross pulled Epic, who must have been stunned into silence, tighter against him as he spoke. “That sucks. I- I’m just angry right now.” His shoulders quivered, and he tried his best to keep his voice from shaking, but he couldn’t.
“It’s- I’m not trying to make this about me. I just hate that that all happened to you,” Epic cut him off by squeezing him just as tight.
“Thanks,” he croaked.
“Always,” Cross sniffed.
They didn't move for hours.