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Epic had always felt sort of lost when it came to relationships. At first, it was simple, because he had a reason, a rule as to why he didn’t. Of course, it was Dr. W.D. Gester who had planted such a weed into his mind, one that poisoned his self image until he finally managed to get away from the scientist.
He wasn’t like a normal monster, not even a normal skeleton. He was an abomination made in a lab, made to be used and studied. He hardly had a soul, much less a soulmate.
He hadn’t even been allowed to try anything with monsters he thought pretty, because that would just distract him from his purpose.
That was all Gester’s poison, but he only figured out that once he had gotten away. And after he struggled through a lot of therapy. Stars, being truthful to himself about the wrongs of his own past was hard. He had Cross, though, and that had always helped. They had helped each other.
He loved his friend dearly, and that had never changed. Back when they first met, they were both still living with their respectively terrible adults. Epic figured they had become friends so quickly because of their shared tribulations, despite the fact that they had both kept their home lives under lock and key.
They had been in highschool, then. It seemed so long ago. And really, it was. They were coming up on their two decade reunion, and so much had happened. Epic, having gotten away from Gester, his brother also making it out, of course, and Cross from Gaster with his little brother, had started sharing an apartment with each other. Packs had since moved out to join the guard, so Epic and Cross lived together. Alone.
He knew the reunion would feel surreal.
Eh… that was a problem for future Epic.
Present Epic was still ruminating.
His original train of thought entered his head once more. Scratch that, it had never left. He sighed heavily and dug his palms into his eye sockets. Stars. Why. Why did therapists, even the ones that didn’t know anything about his ‘conception’, have to be so damn insightful. He hadn’t been prepared for an identity crisis when he had walked up to the office where he went to therapy earlier that day.
Well, that was a lie. He had been expecting one, just not one relating to his soulmate, or lack thereof. It was just so-
“Epic. What did I say about shoving your hands into your eye sockets like a deranged panda with an eye infection?”
“Not to?” Epic mumbled from behind his wall. He moved them so they weren’t digging into his sockets anymore, though. Cross sighed, and sat down next to him on the couch. The cushions sank and Epic felt Cross’ knee lean against his femur. A gust of slightly cool air that smelled of the city met Epic’s face. Two hands reached up to pry his own away from his face.
“Rough session today, huh?” He was always so kind. He could always tell when Epic needed it.
Epic grumbled slightly and pulled his knees up to bury his face that way.
He could practically hear the sympathetic frown Cross most certainly had on.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” A hand left the stack to rub soothing circles on his back. The motions didn’t help how he felt. It was a kind thought.
“In a bit. It’s kinda… big,” Epic turned to, once again, bury his face, this time into Cross’ shoulder. He wasn’t wearing his big coat, but that made sense. It was summer. They were inside. He knew how Epic usually felt after sessions, and he knew that the fur bugged and tickled him if they tried to hug for longer than a minute. He softly breathed in the scent of his friend.
Offering his apartment to Cross (and Packs) had been the best decision of his life.
Cross wrapped his arm around Epic, pulling him in closer. His previously unused arm cradled the back of his head. Epic wrapped his arms around Cross’ back and relished in the pure comfort, safety, home that was being held in Cross’ arms.
They spent a while like that. Just being in the same air, the same space, hugging each other, and calming down from their days. Epic could have fallen asleep, for once. He couldn't, though.
“So. The therapist and I talked today,” Epic started, breaking the quiet.
“Dude, I’m going to listen to you, I promise, but I’m gonna have to see your face at some point. I haven't seen you all day. I missed you, Epic,” Cross didn’t shove him away to look at his face, he was too kind for that. Epic obliged after a moment, and knew exactly what Cross saw that made him frown.
He saw how tired Epic looked. He also probably noticed traces of magic near his eye sockets, from when he’d been crying earlier. After a moment, though, Cross gently smiled, and cupped his jaw.
“Thanks, Dude. I missed you,” he leaned forward and kissed the center of Epic’s forehead, then again on the split on his closed eye socket. Epic closed his other eye again and leaned into Cross’ hand. He had missed him too. He felt his face glow with warm magic.
Shut up, they weren’t clingy.
“What did she say, Dude?” He prompted after a moment.
Epic sighed, “Well, she still doesn’t know about how I was made. But she said something, and it made me realize some stuff,” Cross hummed in acknowledgement.
“I… have a lot of conditioning to work through. A lot more than I thought I did, and… she made me realize, I do have a soul,” he laughed weakly.
Cross stayed silent for a moment.
“...Dude, you’ve always had a soul. What?-”
Epic snorted derisively, “I mean, I am truly a monster. A skeleton, even. It’s so obvious it’s stupid when I think about it, I’m a scientist for Stars’ sake!” He exhaled shakily. “And yet, I never thought to question him when he said I didn’t have a soulmate because I’m not- he said I wasn’t a real monster.”
“Cross,” Epic looked desperately into Cross’ eyelights, his voice near broken, “I might have a soulmate.”
Epic buried his face in his hands again, tears slipping by his fingers. He heard Cross inhale sharply. His skull ached .. He wanted so badly to sleep. Sleep would just make it worse, though.
“Can I hug you?” Epic nodded, and arms quickly wrapped around him as more tears manifested and fell. He buried his face once more in Cross’ shoulder, a haven from the world that still managed to irritate his face.
He sniffled and trembled, but never broke. He hadn’t quite gotten to that part yet.
Cross kept holding him close, and let out empathetic sniffles.
Epic knew Cross had also lost any hope of finding his soulmate from several of their late-night talks. Cross’ face had always screwed into upset and frustration whenever he spoke about his attempts to find his soulmate.
Eventually, Cross had given up.
Epic hadn’t even tried. He had accepted Gester’s words without question.
He clutched tighter at Cross’ sweater.
“Do you want to try?” Cross asked softly.
He didn't answer right away. He didn’t need time to think it over, he had thought it over plenty when he broke down on their couch before.
“I… not yet, at least. I’m not ready. And, they never seemed to search for me. Or maybe,” he sucked in a breath. “Maybe they just don’t exist.”
“Or maybe you’ll end up with something weird, like me,” Cross’ voice was almost humorous at the idea, despite it all. Epic only hummed in acknowledgement before curling further into his friend.
They fell into sleep together with tears in their eye sockets and an ache in their hearts.
____________________________________
“Epic,” Cross’ voice woke him easily from slumber that always failed to allow him rest. “Mornin’, Dude. I’ve got chocolate chip pancakes in the pan right now, go change.”
Epic grumbled. His back ached, but his headache had, surprisingly, diminished some while he slept. He rolled off the couch (ah, that’s why his back hurt,) and groggily pushed himself up. It was morning, he noted from the sunlight streaming through the windows, meaning he had slept much longer than usual.
The nightmare hadn't been that bad, all things considered.
The question of where Cross slept only vaguely brushed his consciousness. He dismissed the thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time they had fallen asleep on the couch together, or even in either of their rooms.
He walked into their kitchen space after changing, and breathed in the wafting sweet aroma of chocolate chip pancakes.
“You spoil me, Bruh.”
“I make these for us every weekend, Dude. I don’t think I do spoil you,” Cross laughed lightly. Epic sat down and promptly dropped his head onto the countertop of their island.
“On the contrary,” Epic sing-songed as best he could into the counter, “I think that’s exactly what spoiling is.”
“I guess you’re right, but I had a point.”
“Mhm, sure you did.”
“ Mmf . Eat now, argue more later,” he mumbled, moving to cushion his head with his arms. Cross laughed, and pushed a plate of pancakes in front of him. He hadn’t even registered that they were already on the island.
Epic woke up slowly but surely, enough that was able to throw puns and memes between sentences. Eventually, Epic had figured out how to think again, and remembered the previous night’s conversation.
Cross brushed against his side as he gathered their dishes, a silent reassurance.
When he turned back around, Epic had a pen in front of him on the countertop, and was staring at it.
Epic looked to Cross, anxious, and was met with familiar eyelights that promised everything.
Cross grabbed several pieces of paper from the stack of small scraps they kept for fridge notes. He placed them in front of Epic, and, instead of sitting across from him like he did for breakfast, sat right next to him.
Epic flushed and pulled one piece slightly closer, and then stopped moving.
“Uh, is there, like, something specific I need to do?” He turned to Cross, embarrassment burning on his face.
Cross only smiled gently, and said, “Well, assuming I didn’t do anything wrong when I drew my maps, I liked to close my eyes. Usually, your magic kind of guides your hand when you draw. It makes sense, cause it’s intention based and all, and it feels a little tingly, but nothing overwhelming. Try it.”
Right. He knew that.
Epic breathed deeply, his soul pounding. He grabbed the pen, shakily, and moved his hand slowly over the paper. He glanced at Cross one last time, and noticed he had stopped smiling. He looked almost… like he dreaded what was happening. When he noticed Epic staring, he quickly smiled again, a slightly nervous grin.
Epic shifted his eyelight back to the paper, and with heavy anticipation, closed his eye. He immediately opened it again and dropped the pen.
“Cross, I- I can’t- what if I do have a soulmate, and they hate me for not finding them sooner? What if they don’t want a soulmate, and that’s why they never tried to find me?” He froze from his sudden outburst, looking to Cross, who looked surprised. His eye widened as a horrible, horrible thought crossed his mind.
“ What if they want me to move in with them? I can’t just leave, Cross, I love living with you! This is the happiest I’ve ever been!” Cross let out a strangled sound halfway between a concerned hum and surprised laughter. Epic hardened his gaze.
“Cross, if I do have a soulmate, and they don’t like you, no. I don’t have a soulmate. And even if- I bet I could convince them that you have to move in too,” He put his hand to his chin in an exaggerated display of thoughtfulness.
“Dude,” Cross was fully giggling. “You’re jumping waaayy ahead of yourself, now. Don’t worry, I’m sure if you do have a soulmate, they’d… they’d understand. And, they probably have good reason not to go searching. Well, that, or you’re just stuck with me.” He stopped laughing as he spoke. Epic’s soul clenched in his ribcage.
“Now… stop stalling. You have every right to be worried about this, I’m gonna be honest. But, whatever happens, we’ll work through it. I’m here for you, Dude.” His expression was pinched. Epic knew he cared about Epic nearly as much as Epic cared about him, something he still struggled to process at times. He felt a glimmer of determination.
Whatever happened, he would never leave Cross.
He took a deep breath, and closed his eye again.
He could hear his soul, beating hard with the adrenaline. As soon as the pen touched the paper, he felt what Cross had described. The magic didn’t feel the same as it usually would, but maybe he was just nervous. It acted warm and tingly and a touch excited.
He dragged his pen on the paper, and almost immediately stopped. He frowned, his sockets still shut. The magic wasn’t gone, but there wasn’t any further direction.
One tiny, straight line? That couldn’t be right.
Maybe he really didn’t have a soulmate. He opened his eyes, both of them, and stared at the paper, which was indeed only marked with a single horizontal line.
Cross took a sudden, shuddering breath next to him, and Epic realized at the same time that Cross had stopped breathing while he drew and that- his soul was out.
Epic stared, wide-eyed, at a similarly shocked Cross. Cross’ soul floated in front of him, glowing a soft, pure light he had only seen in romance movies and shows.
Epic looked to Cross’ eyelights, and huffed a sharp breath he hadn’t realized he’d stopped taking.
Cross looked at Epic with an expression he had never seen before. At least, never directed at him. It was the face he made when he talked about XGaster, it was the face he made at Ink when he found out they had known so much and done nothing, when he felt most betrayed. It was that and a thousand times worse.
Epic felt something in his soul tremble and threaten to shatter.
Then Cross’ expression dropped to something indecipherable, and that wasn't right, Epic could always read him, and he closed his eye sockets. His soul sank back into his ribcage and he breathed through the tears that had beaded. They sat in silence, deadly and terrifying, and for the first time since they met, Epic didn’t know what to do to help.
He felt tears beading in his own sockets, and he didn’t even try to stop them from falling. He put his hand over his mouth, losing any sense of his stomach. Cross only sat, hardly breathing next to him.
Seconds felt like hours. Epic’s breaths were loud in his skull, and the room felt small.
Cross finally took a shaky breath, pulling Epic out of his trance. He turned.
“Y’know,” his voice cracked, “Packs always said… I look happier. With you.”
“You… you aren’t mad at me?” Cross started to reply, but Epic couldn’t help but to interrupt him.
“Cross, it’s my fault that you gave up on finding-... if I had just taken a second, a literal second, to think about the fact that I’m fucking alive, I would have- I would have, we could have known, I’d have realized-”
Cross grabbed his now wildly flailing hands.
“Dude, first of all, it wasn’t your fault. Second, I know I… probably didn’t look too happy just now. But, uh, this is probably the best day of my life.”
Epic froze, and stared at him. Studied his face. There were still tears in his sockets, mirrored in his own. But there was a dusting of pale magic that had appeared on his face.
“Actually, scratch that. I think tomorrow will be better. Because, there’s a lot going on… today.”
Epic melted. There was so much to explain. They had people to tell. He could already picture the smug expression Packs would surely have once they called him. His own brother would be very happy. He felt his face wobble embarrassingly, and could see Cross’ concern at the falling tears. He threw his arms around his best friend, his soulmate.
Cross was only still for a moment, before he hugged back. Epic felt a little silly, clinging so tightly and desperately to the one of the only souls that loved him unconditionally.
Cross sniffled loudly, “I can’t believe it, Dude. We found each other. Didn’t even need one of those stupid maps.”
Epic laughed wetly in delight. Cross… was entirely right. His soul warmed exponentially.
“Paps is gonna freak. Packs is gonna freak. There’s going to be so much freaking out going on, we should probably wait till we stop to tell them anything about this,” Cross chuckled through his words.
“Bruh, I’m just- I know you said not to blame myself, but I’m still stuck about how you looked for me so often and never found me. We’ve been best friends since high school, how does that happen?” Epic was still reeling from the shock of it all.
“Can we- can we move to the floor or something first? We’re gonna fall if we stay here,” Cross’ voice still shook, slightly. He was right, of course, Epic could feel their precarious balance wavering as they embraced. He didn’t want to let go.
His arms still around Cross, he stood up and then tugged Cross up with him. They promptly sat on the floor. Cross’ shoulders hiked slightly in a flush.
“I know you did stuff specifically to stay safe from Gaster-” Epic started.
“I only looked for- for you, at night, because Gaster had some sort of sleep schedule, for whatever reason. And when I looked, the maps always brought me to this one clearing in the woods. It was always empty, though, where were you?”
Just like the day before, when his therapist’s offhand comment caused realization to strike him harshly and suddenly, Epic realized what had happened. He had listened to Cross’ failed attempts before, but the new context shed new light.
“I was underground,” he swallowed.
“What?”
“Gester kept me, and Paps, in an underground bunker every night. Both for observation for changes during the night, and because he didn't trust us not to run away or something. He also just didn’t want me at parties or with other monsters in general, I guess. The entrance wasn’t very far into the forest, and I never bothered to think about how far out it went.”
The silence was deafening, their previous ecstacy shattered.
“Stars,” Cross muttered, squeezing him tighter.
He hugged right back.
____________________________________
Months later, they had announced their news to their brothers. Both were, as expected, ecstatic at the news. Well, Packs was somewhat dubious. He had been there for some of Cross’ fruitless endeavors.
The reunion had gone well, and they had even reconnected with some old friends. Epic continued his sessions, and even told his therapist about their revelation. She had just smirked at him and winked without further comment, whatever that meant.
They even adopted a cat and dog, named Chicken and T-Rex respectively. And most importantly, they gained a guest room. They didn’t even have to move apartments.