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Cross can count on one hand how many times it has happened. It’s something that so rarely makes itself known that half the time he forgets it’s even an issue. It’s not like there are warning signs either, no gradual build up or feeling that it’s about to happen. He’ll just wake up one day and know that it’s started. But it hasn’t happened for almost three years and he doesn’t think about it all that much or at all until he wakes up in Nightmare’s castle one day and the very thought of food makes him ill.
The problem is that sometimes, food is just an obstacle that seems far too hard to navigate for Cross at times.
It’s not an eating disorder, he doesn’t starve himself because he thinks he’s overweight or because he thinks he doesn’t deserve food. Quite the opposite in fact for most of the time during these episodes all he wants to do is eat because he’s so hungry. The problem is the texture. Cross and food texture have been mortal enemies for his entire life, that is no secret. The gang knows he will refuse to eat the grain couscous as he finds the texture far too grainy on his tongue. He won’t eat cooked spinach because he says it goes slimy, he will avoid most fruits because sometimes it’ll be sweet and other time’s sour and sometimes it’ll be firm and others squishy.
These things are known, and Horror was more than willing to make accommodations to help Cross feel more at ease when it came to food. What isn’t known is that sometimes, very rarely, all types of food textures that aren’t liquid are too much to bear. It’s the thought of anything solid mushing against his teeth, of forcing its way down his throat, of rolling against his tongue. It’s like a switch being flipping inside his brain at random that suddenly leaves him unable to eat anything because if he tries he’ll just be violently sick.
Thankfully, it almost never happens and when it does it usually only lasts about three or four days. There was only one other time Cross can remember where it lasted longer, a full week in fact, and he’d been so incredibly weak by the end of it, magic dangerously low and body struggling to function. It hadn’t helped that his father and friends hadn’t really bothered to offer him support during it either. XGaster had quickly written any of his issues with food off as pitiful grabs at attention and over time his other friends and family had started thinking the same, saying he was just being dramatic and over reacting. He thinks the only reason he hadn’t needed to be hospitalized during that week-long episode is because XGaster had forced food down his throat, sneering when he’d thrown most of it backup and calling him ungrateful.
This, however, is the first time Cross has woken up knowing food is out of the question since he’s started living with Nightmare and the gang. He knows it straight away too because when he starts getting ready for his usual day and thinks about what he’ll have for breakfast he’s immediately filled with dread and nausea at the thought of any solid food touching his mouth. He freezes in place, quickly understanding what is happening and feeling a new kind of dread fill him. Food is such an important part of the castle's everyday life. Horror is always stressing and making sure everyone eats, his past trauma from his own universe forcing him to religiously check on everyone’s meal plan. While breakfast and lunch are a help yourself kind of deal, dinner is always a group affair. Because of this, Cross knows that while he’ll be able to skip the first two meals of the day without drawing attention he won’t be able to skip dinner.
Logically, he knows he should just tell the others of his problem, knows they will be understanding and accommodating. But he also can’t help but worry that they will think the way his last family did, that he’s just making things up for attention, that he’s being dramatic. He’s scared they’ll force him to eat, will shove food down his throat like his father did only to call him ungrateful when he spews it back up. He’s scared Horror will hate him for wasting precious food, and will hate him for not being able to eat the delicious food he spends so long lovingly making. And if Horror ends up hating him the others will surely follow because he’s still the newbie, they don’t know him as well, don’t hold the same amount of love and loyalty to him as they do Horror.
So Cross starts planning, starts thinking of ways he can get out of dinner without arousing suspicion. It is presented to him by Nightmare when he tells Cross he’ll be going on a solo mission tomorrow. It’s easy enough to tell Horror he made himself something to eat earlier as he wanted to get an early night's rest for the mission. Horror grumbles a bit but doesn’t push, it’s not the first time Cross has done something like this after all. And so, Cross gets through the first day of being unable to eat without any issues.
The second day was pretty easy too. His mission is a simple scouting one and normally he’d finish it within a few hours and be home in time for dinner. This time, he deliberately takes his time, makes sure he’s out all day and gets home late when most of the castle's inhabitants have gone to bed. He writes up his report, leaves it in Nightmare’s study and then slips into the kitchen to chug three glasses of milk as liquids are the only thing he can stand to swallow right now.
The third day is a little trickier. He doesn’t have a mission to excuse himself with so instead he makes up a story of going to see Epic and that they’ll be out late and have dinner at his. The others accept this story, knowing how close the two are and how they always jump at the chance to spend time together. In reality, Cross heads to an Outertale AU to just sit and watch the stars. His stomach is starting to ache from hunger now, his soul pulsing weakly as his magic reserves dwindle. Frustrated tears prick at his eyes but Cross just sighs and after checking the time heads home to curl up miserably in his bed.
On the fourth day, Cross begins to worry. He’d been hoping he’d wake up and be able to think of eating without feeling like he’s going to vomit but it’s not the case. His throat still constricts at the thought, his stomach still rolls with nausea and his bones still itch with a sensory sort of overload. It all leaves him wanting to just curl up and cry because he’s just so hungry. He spends almost the whole day just laying in bed before sending a text saying he was going out again before leaving for Outertale once more. He doesn’t even bother trying to think of a good enough lie as to why he left, he’s too tired, too exhausted to even try. His phone pings a few times but he doesn’t bother looking, doesn’t want to see the anger or disappointment that the others are clearly feeling. He stays staring at the stars till he knows it’s well past midnight back home, sneaks more milk from the kitchen and then goes to bed.
When the fifth day dawns, Cross wants to scream. He’s still feeling sick to his stomach by the very thought of food but he’s also feeling so sick because he’s not eating. When he stands he’s dizzy beyond belief and his bones rattle with tremors. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, is terrified that this episode will never end and he’ll just slowly starve to death purely because his own body is betraying him. Caught up in his own frustrated-terrified-angry emotions he doesn’t think to check his phone, doesn’t think that Nightmare will be able to sense his spiralling emotions.
Downstairs in the kitchen, the Murder Trio sits with Nightmare and all of them are filled with concerned worry. The one who is the most concerned is Horror who sits picking at his fingers while whining softly.
“Have any….of you seen….Bubba eat…these last few…days?” Horror asked.
Everyone fidgeted and looked amongst themselves, hoping one of them would speak up and confirm that yes, they have seen Cross eat something this week, but no one does. It has Horror whining louder, anxiously reaching up to tug at the crack in his skull only to have Dust reach out and take his hand into his own.
“Easy Big Guy, deep breaths.” Dust soothed. Horror did as instructed, slowly calming himself and giving Dust a strained smile in thanks.
“Do we know that this is actually a big deal? So he’s missed a few dinners with us, it’s not the first time any of us have done so.” Killer asked only to have Horror give a low growl.
“Cookie has….missed four…dinners…in a row.” The eldest of the trio glared.
“His emotions have also been very anxious and frustrated these last few days. They are especially bad this morning.” Nightmare spoke up.
“Do his emotions tell you anything about why he’s apparently skipping meals?” Dust asked.
“Only that he’s constantly swinging between fear and frustration. It’s almost as if he’s angry at what’s causing the fear.” Nightmare said with a furrowed brow bone.
“Enough! I make…food for….Bubba…will take it…to him.” Horror snapped as he stood up to move about the kitchen. The others leave him knowing how anxious he is and that he needs to do this. It allows Horror to quickly make up a plate of chocolate brownies in only about an hour and a half. He looks to Nightmare who nods softly, the Dark Guardian silently telling Horror that he will allow him to proceed on his own but will be close by to intervene should he be needed.
With the plate of brownies in hand, Horror quickly made his way upstairs to the wing of the castle where all the bedrooms were located. Cross’ was the furthest down the hall with a view that overlooked the woods that surrounded the back half of the castle. He’d liked the view of the woods as up until he’d been rescued from his destroyed AU he’d never seen the colour green before. With a soft huff, Horror gently knocked on the youngers door, listening intently to the shuffling on the other side. It takes longer than it should for Cross to open the door and when he does Horror has to stop himself from crying. The smaller looks terrible with dark circles under his sockets that are stained purple from crying. His bones also look ashy instead of their normal healthy snow white and Horror can clearly see the small tremors running through his body.
“Bubba…brought you…present.” Horror said as he offered the plate. He sees it right away, the flash of panic along with the pinch in his expression that speaks of feeling ill. He sees how Cross stares at the brownies like they are the bane of his existence as well as the longing that only comes from a deep seated hunger. He sees it all and it confuses him beyond belief but it also confirms his worst fears that Cross is indeed avoiding food and has been trying to hide the fact from all of them.
“Umm, thanks H, but I’m not really hungry right now. I already had breakfast.” Cross muttered with such a brittle smile.
Horror glared, soul aching at the obvious lie. “Have been…in kitchen since…5am…never saw…you.”
“Well, umm, maybe we just missed each other?” Cross fumbled, eyes wide as he tried to save face.
“Haven’t seen…you in kitchen…at all…today…please don’t…lie Bubba.” Horror rumbled. He can see the guilt in the youngers face, sees the moment he backtracks and relents.
“Okay, so I haven’t had breakfast. But I’m not really feeling food right now.” Cross admitted softly.
“Need…to eat…haven’t for…a while.” Horror argued.
“What do you mean?” The panic is rising, Horror doesn’t need to be an empath to see it.
“No one…seen you eat…all week…Moonlight called Epic….said you…never…visited him…when you said….you did.” Horror said. Cross flinched, looking so caught and utterly terrified that it pulled at Horror’s soul. “Why haven’t….you been…eating Bubba?”
“I, it’s, I don’t. Look, I’ll eat later, I promise. I’m just not hungry right now.” Cross tried to back away and shut his door but Horror isn’t having any of it. He pushes his way inside, eyes narrowed as he pushes the plate towards Cross.
“No…eat now…no more…hiding.” He growled.
“H, please, I can’t.” Cross begged as panic and nausea mounted.
“No excuses…eat now!” Horror was close to yelling now, his own anxiety and fear growing.
“Horror…” Tears were gathering in the corners of Cross’ eyesockets as his soul raced with terror.
“Eat!” Horror snapped.
“I CAN’T!” Cross screamed right back as the damn burst, tears flowing like a river down his face as his breathing stuttered in his ribcage. “I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!”
Cross doesn’t notice when the others show up, to caught up in his panic as he is, but he does notice when Nightmare begins to siphon his negative emotions away. He becomes aware of Dust holding his hands, rubbing soothing circles into his palms while Killer strokes his skull gently. He becomes aware of Horror cradling him in his lap, a deep rumbling purr spluttering from the big guy's chest to help ground and calm him. And he becomes aware of Nightmare crouched beside them all, a tentacle resting on Cross’ forehead to take away his panic and fear.
“There you go Sunshine, you back with us?” Killer asked softly. Cross can only give a weak nod, body feeling so heavy and weak after his panic attack.
“You think you can talk us through what happened there?” Dust asked just as gently. Cross flushed, embarrassed and filled with so much shame. The tentacle on his head flicked before curling along his bottom jaw, tilting his head up till he was looking right at Nightmare who gazed back with such a loving look.
“We only wish to help, dear. You’ve been feeling so anxious and stressed these last few days. Let us help you.” The God crooned, deep baritone voice washing over Cross like waves on the shore.
“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid and making you worry for nothing.” He tearfully said which had them all frowning in concern.
“Not stupid….not worrying…for nothing…if it upsets…you…then it’s…important to…us.” Horror soothed.
“But it is stupid. I mean, how many monsters do you know who’s own bodies basically try to kill them because of childish things like texture?” Cross said, voice wobbling with frustration.
“How about we roll it back a bit there. I think we need a bit of context, Crossy.” Killer cut in. “Why do you say that your body is killing you because of texture?”
Here Cross sighed, shoulders slumping and looking like they were carrying the weight of the multiverse on them. “It’s why I haven’t been eating. Sometimes I’ll just wake up and out of nowhere, every single texture that isn’t a liquid makes my throat close up and makes me feel like I’m gonna be sick. I can’t eat, but I want to because I’m just so hungry, but my body won’t let me.”
The others are quiet, eyes wide as they take the information in. Horror is distraught, agonised by the thought of Cross being so incredibly hungry but being unable to do anything about it. He also feels so guilty for trying to force him to eat before, because poor Cross had clearly wanted to but knew his own body would betray him and force him to reject the food anyway.
“How often does this happen?” Nightmare asked, worried for his youngest wellbeing.
“Not that much to be honest. Last time it happened before now was almost three years ago. I had kinda forgotten it was a thing.” Cross shrugged.
“And how long will it last?” Dust asked. This has Cross scowling, his emotions arching frustrated-agitated-fearful-worried-frustrated though only Nightmare could tell.
“Normally it only last for three days, but this time it just won’t leave.” The tears are coming back, rolling down his face as he glared at his still trembling hands that Dust held. He sniffled before turning to look at Horror, face crumpled in guilt and regret. “I really am sorry, Horror. I want to eat, I promise I do, but I just can’t.”
Horror gave a low hum, reaching out to cup the smallers face as he rested their foreheads together. He kept eye contact, urging Cross to understand and believe his next words. “I’m not…angry Bubba…I’m scared…for you…sad for you…wish I could…make it…better…but I’m not…angry.”
Cross gave a wet laugh, nuzzling closer as his soul sung with relief-sadness-love. “I thought you’d hate me.”
“Never.” Horror whispered.
“This ain’t your fault Sunshine. You didn’t ask for your body to do this to ya.” Killer said.
“The others used to blame me for it, said I was being dramatic or doing it for attention.” Cross wept. The gang scowled, knowing perfectly well who the ‘Others’ were.
“They were ableist pieces of shit, don’t listen to them.” Dust said, pulling a weak laugh from the younger.
It’s still hard, still feels like a constant uphill battle against an enemy that is himself. But at the same time, it’s easier with his new family by his side. Like always, Horror adjusts to this new dietary restriction, switching to making Cross high protein shakes with scoops of added calcium and vitamins. It’s still not a healthy diet, still not something anyone can live off of long term, but it helps ease the hunger pains, helps give Cross back some of his energy. The others all offer their support, staying by his side and getting him anything that might help make the next few days easier. And they are there when, on day eight, Cross suddenly lurches for a bag of chips. They are there as he tears into food with tears of joy streaming down his face. They are there to remind him to go slow so he doesn’t upset his stomach. And they will be there when the next episode rears it’s head, will be there to comfort and support him no matter what, will be the family he always wanted, always needed and always deserved.