Chapter Text
“Okay, how about this one… Mah name is Anibelle Woods. I’m jus’ a wee girl from the south tha’ likes buckin’ wood and apple cider.”
“.. Killer. Get the in the van.”
Killer pouted, taking off his extremely large cowboy hat to fit into the back of the van with no disturbance. He threw himself into the space beside Cross, a distance that ensured there would be no touching and folded his arms like a rowdy child.
Horror scratched his teeth across from them. “Are you supposed to be a human?”
Killer scoffed as if he’d heard the most offensive question one could imagine and gestured to his denim outfit and the creative use of human foundation smothered all over him, “Uh, obviously?”
“You don’t have eyes,” Cross pointed out. Killer threw a glare his way in response.
“I meant get in the front. I’m not driving,” Murder said. He was pushed into the corner of the van, seemingly rather being squished by Horror’s imposing frame then sitting next to Cross for whatever reason. But Cross didn’t care. His feelings definitely weren’t hurt.
“Oh? Why, because you can’t drive? You aren’t beating the stereotypes, Dust. Do better.” Killer shook his head and held his hat to his heart.
Murder ripped it out of his hands and threw it out of the open door. “Murder.”
Killer sniffled but held his head high. He got out of the back of the van while muttering under his breath, all the way until he got to the driver's seat.
They were on a mission, of course, one Killer had gotten way too into and as a result had stolen both a van and disguises for everyone of them. As soon as Nightmare had uttered the phrase “undercover” there was nothing anyone could do to deter his antics. Cross found he wasted less energy when he just let Killer do as he pleased.
Murder hadn’t been the most enthusiastic when presented with his disguise, claiming it was the ‘gayest thing he’d seen in his life’ and then decided to go on strike until Killer gave him a better alternative. It didn’t end up working as Nightmare had lectured him on the criteria for being a slave not including the choice to go on strike so there he was; stuffed into a van beside Horror, who was given a simple cloak to cover him, draped in the most ridiculous outfit ever hoping they would get in a crash. What was he supposed to be? A butterfly. He had the fakest wings ever and a headband with antennas that were harder to see than the actual headband.
Cross was stuck in body covering armour that definitely wasn’t meant for men but he was too tired to complain. Sure, it was a little cold for his liking but he wasn’t going to ask for something different because of a small thing like that. Plus, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. A part of him felt a little giddy at the thought of pretending to be a different person. Maybe a little childish of him but no one could judge him if he kept it to himself.
They were supposed to be on the lookout for a certain monster in MafiaTale, someone who had information on the Star Sanses that could possibly spread uncertainty about their good-willed nature and create a larger pool of negativity for their next battle. Murder kept mentioning how shady they were when he originally came across the human while out with Nightmare. It made Cross a bit nervous about the validity of their information, but Nightmare seemed confident and he wasn’t going to doubt his own boss.
Killer started the van and drove out of the alley they had arrived in, smoothly making an exit into the main road. The van creaked every few seconds, clearly old and used.
“You couldn't have gotten one less broken?” Murder drawled, picking at a large plate of plastic that was hanging off from the door.
Killer huffed, “Don't underestimate the KillerMobile, dude. This thing is worth more than you ever will.”
“KillerMobile? You're joking.” Murder’s words were laced with despair.
“I'd like to see you come up with a better name”
“Literally anything is better than KillerMobile.”
“Why are you naming a car?” Horror cut in. Cross didn’t even know he was paying attention seeing as he looked dead to the word.
Killer guffawed like he knew he was better than them, “Sorry, Horror. Only people with dead brothers would understand. Right, Cross?”
“.. what?’
“Your brother isn't dead you're just pretending he is,” Murder said, judgemental. Cross couldn't blame him. He felt himself bristle at Killer's change in topic and he couldn't help but feel targeted.
Killer laughed obnoxiously. It went on for so long Horror looked like he was going to fall asleep. About two minutes into his fit of laughter the van swayed right, throwing all the monsters huddled in the back directly into the door. Murder took what may have been his final, wheezy breath that sounded like air being pushed out of a balloon, now trapped underneath Horror who didn't look like he would be moving any time soon.
Cross steadied himself using the handle. It came apart under the slightest pressure, so he was gripping onto a handle that wasn't even connected to the van anymore.
“Who taught you how to drive?” Cross shouted over the commotion.
“People teach you how to drive? That's so stupid! It's pretty easy.” Killer choked out in between gasps for air. Cross groaned and resigned himself to his fate, sprawling across the floor.
Probably not his best idea as he was sent rolling into both Horror and Murder when the van spluttered to a stop. The engine made a sound of despair, one followed by a series of honks behind them.
“You're stupid van broke!” Murder exclaimed, somehow shoving Horror away from him.
Killer recovered from his outburst in less than a second, highlighting how fake the whole thing had been, to whack the steering wheel like that was going to get it to start again. “No need to rub it in…”
One by one they began filing out of the van. Cross kept the most distance, wary of the large cloud of dark smoke building up above them.
“Well now we need another vehicle,” Killer said hopelessly, stroking the van like it was his baby.
“Can't we just walk?” Cross countered, trying his best to keep still where he was standing, his body itching to move.
“No!” Killer replied, affronted, “It won't be a family road trip if we walk! Our whole cover would be blown!”
Murder glared at Killer, “We're different species. How would anyone believe we are related?”
A series of honks protruded from the lavish red car behind them. “You're blocking the traffic!” the person shouted from the safety of the wrong side of the glass.
Murder's head twitches to the side. A purple glow highlighted his face and he walked towards the car with patience one wouldn't expect from him when he was ticked off. He reached for the handle of the car and pulled it off its hinges, not hesitating in grabbing the human by the collar of their shirt and throwing them onto the busy street.
They shouted in complaint but Murder ignored them. “Get in.” He ordered the rest of them with no room for hesitation. He slipped into the human's former seat and clicked a button that unlocked the rest of the doors to keep the damage to a minimum.
The three skeletons piled into the back. Cross took his place at the window and Killer flung himself into the middle seat, only to end up practically sitting on Cross when Horror got in behind him. There was a large dip in the car that made Cross wince and Killer make a sound of giddy delight.
The car's engine revved and in a matter of seconds they were darting down the crowded street. Murder manoeuvred around cars like it was nothing, not even bothering to take down his hood so he could see.
Cross latched onto Killer's arm and held back a yelp, “Should you be going this fast?”
Murder didn't respond, somehow making the car go faster. The wind from the missing door hit their faces every second they spent speeding. Cross scowled at the cold.
Killer giggled again and squealed, “Go faster!”
The images outside of the window flickered past too fast to be able to see anything and the wind was making it pretty difficult to hear as well.
“We should slow down! How are we supposed to see our target if we don't?” he argued.
Killer huffed at him, “Don't be such a buzzkill, Crossy. We'll get to it, calm your tits.”
Cross's face flushed in indignation and he stuttered out a response, “I-I'm not- I don't-! How dare you!”
Killer booed him which was somehow a signal for Murder to accelerate even further. The three skeletons in the back were thrown into their seats with enough force they couldn't force themselves up again.
And then they were spinning. The car came to an even more erupt stop than the van had, throwing all four of them forward. The car was flung into the air, landing on a patch of grass a little off the main road.
An alarm burst out from some metal thing they hit that was spraying water at them and the car kept clattering, even after they all scampered out again.
“Great going, Dust, you crashed the car!” Killer complained like he wasn't giggling like a toddler the whole time.
Murder growled, “It's. Murder.”
“No, it's going to be actual dust in the next five seconds,” Killer responded, flinging a knife out of his sleeve and spinning it on a single finger.
Murder stared at him. “Are you threatening me?”
A louder clatter drew their attention back to the car where a human was squished against the front, blood blending into the red car's coat. Cross felt his throat go dry. Surely that couldn't be the human they were looking for.
Murder's shoulder's slumped, “That's the human we're looking for.”
The human's head dropped onto the ground, rolling around and staining the grass red while the four skeletons silently watched it.
“You messed up our mission!” Killer yelled, “Why are you so useless all the time?”
“I'm useless? I'm not the one that made us have a ‘fAmiLy rOaD tRip’ despite the fact you don't know how to drive!” Murder spat back, kicking a stray piece of car in Killer's direction.
Killer bristled and shouted something back in response.
Cross stared at the human's decapitated head and felt disappointed in himself. He'd failed. A numbness washed over him as his failure met his eye. He stumbled when a large hand hit his back.
Horror grinned down at him. “You really messed up, huh?”
Cross's face fell even further and his comfortable numbness was gone. “Huh?”.
“Nightmare's gonna be so mad when he hears that you let the target get killed. Wasn't it your responsibility to make sure they didn't kill anyone?”
Cross hunched in on himself and chewed the edge of his thumb. “You really think so?”
“Course,” Horror shrugged like it was common sense, “He'll prolly get rid of you while he's at it. Realise you aren't the big bad soldier you pretend you are. Let you be someone else's problem if he doesn't dust you.”
Like that was going to happen. Horror was just trying to rile him up. To get him angry. What he was saying wasn't true. Well. It wasn't wrong. It was his job to keep the others in check, no matter how much he detested it and he did try to keep a brave face because he was strong and Nightmare wouldn't let him fight even though he knew Cross had potential and Cross didn't understand why. Why get a guard dog if you were just going to keep it in a cage?
It made him worry. What if he wasn't what Nightmare wanted? If he wasn't strong enough or obedient enough or tough enough.
Before he knew it purple magic dripped down from his eye sockets. He tried to hide his face so Horror wouldn't see, to not move his eye lights so more tears wouldn't fall.
“Are you crying?” Horror observed. Cross felt vomit rise to the back of his throat. He wished he was back at the castle, he wished he had his uniform to hide in, no matter how much he hated it, but most of all he desperately wished the ground would swallow him whole. When that didn't happen he settled for staring at the ground and pretending he wasn't there, crying in front of a teammate who would pick out his every flaw and tear him to shreds.
And if it couldn't get any worse, Horror spoke again. “Stop arguing, you're freaking out Cross.”
Murder and Killer's voices died out with Horror’s interruption. They both turned to look at him. Cross glared at Horror through the magic in his eyes but instead of glee or satisfaction on his face there was something else. Cross ignored it, too annoyed at him to spend more time thinking about it.
Killer, on the other hand, wasted no time in teasing him “What's wrong, Crossy? Scared of a little fighting? Not very Guard-like of you,” his grin turned into a faux pout and he leaned in close to exaggerate his next words, “I wonder why that is though. Remind you of mommy and daddy?”
Cross blanched and it was only because Killer was so far off with his guess that he pulled himself together enough to scoff and pull out Nightmare's Whistle. The grating sound of its scream made the other three straighten up, tensing in preparation for Nightmare's wrath. Cross took the distraction as a chance to wipe his tears into his arm.
It took longer than it should have for Nightmare to rise up from the ground. He surveyed the area around them and as soon as his eye landed on the human's decapitated head his tentacles straightened out and he hissed, “Imbeciles!”
Cross wouldn't flinch at something like that but he did shrink further his armour, trying to hide the shame he knew Nightmare could feel dripping off him.
“Is there one mission I can send you on together that you don’t mess up?” Nightmare demanded.
“It was Dust's fault,” Horror interjected, only adding fuel to Nightmare's rage.
Murder turned his glare to Horror, “My. Name. Is. Murder. And it's Killer's fault!”
Nightmare raised a hand to silence them. “If you four continue to behave like children then I will be forced to treat you as such.”
“That doesn't sound like the threat you think it does,” Murder muttered.
“Does it not?” Nightmare turned to Murder, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. Before Murder had a chance to speak a tentacle rushed towards him, throwing the short skeleton towards the far off woods in less then a second. His smile dropped and he turned to Killer, “Did you save?”
Killer’s face showed a guilty expression and he huffed, “‘fraid not, boss. My bad.”
Nightmare's eye twitched. “I recall telling you to save before each mission.”
Killer hummed and tapped his finger against his chin, deep in thought. His grin came back in full force as he shrugged. “Slipped my mind. Now that I think of it, my memory's gotten kinda iffy lately. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you boss?”
“Are you accusing me of something?”
“Never!” Killer gaped, “Just asking a question. And anyways this mission was doomed from a start, I told you these mafia guys are scammers. This human didn't even know who the Star Sanses were. But no Nightmare is never wrong.” Killer finished his rant with a kick to the human's side, forceful enough the body rolled away.
Cross wondered why his teammates were trying to anger Nightmare. His face flickered into something cruel but was disguised to be calm in a matter of moments. Tentacles were wrapped around both Cross and Horror and they sunk into the floor, popping out in Nightmare's castle.
Horror turned to look at him, seemingly debating something. He must've made his choice as he scoffed and sludged into the depths of the castle halls, leaving Cross to stand in the empty large room they were always deposited in.
Cross was such an idiot. He made a fool of himself in front of his teammates for no reason, failed to keep the mission under control and couldn't even force a word out for Nightmare, who he called. A sob slipped out of his throat and he rubbed at his eye sockets.
He hoped Nightmare would finally see he was truly not worth the effort, throw him back to his universe and leave him to rot. At least then he'd have a reason to cry. At least then he wouldn't mess up missions for everyone else and mope about it. He was so pathetic, hiding behind his stupid uniform. His thoughts were interrupted by a hiss of pain and he pulled his hand away from his arm to see he had dug holes into his wrist, ones that were deep enough to leave small cracks spreading across his arm. He swore under his breath and rushed towards the room he had claimed as his own. They didn't have any kind of food or medical equipment in the castle so he'd just have to hope he could get his healing magic to fix it.
Later, while he tried to force his mind to sleep the door creaked open and Killer slid in. Cross didn’t speak, not wanting to disrupt the peace of the night. He did slump further into the wall though, breathing in the pleasant smell that seemed to follow Killer everywhere he went.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Dust told me to apologize to you.” Killer's words were flat.
Cross scoffed. “I'm not a baby. If that's all you want then leave.”
Killer cocked his head to the side, still grinning, “I'm not sorry.”
“Yeah, dude, I think I could tell,” Cross responded, equally as dull. Though other people's company did put him at ease more often than not it couldn't be said it was something he liked. He'd rather sit in silence than have to respond to Killer's less than superb conversation skills.
“I can't feel-”
“I know,” Cross cut in, “I don't need you to explain yourself to me. It's whatever. I don't care, I was just… thinking about something else.”
Killer hummed behind his teeth. “We weren't being serious. We were just fighting to fill in the silence. It's what we always do. I don't have any major problems with him and if he has problems with me I don't care.”
Cross examined the skeleton across from him. He looked more beat up then he did after the car crash. Must have been Nightmare. “Sorry I called Nightmare then. You probably could've figured out a way to fix it, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well you're.. you're smart. So. Probably could've resurrected them or something like that,” he rambled.
There was a slight blue tint to Killers face as he spoke, “Aww, thanks, Crossy!♡ It’s good to know some people in this castle have common sense.”
“Whatever, I didn’t mean it like that,” he huffed.
“I'll tone down on the fighting if it makes you less depressing to look at,” Killer said offhandedly.
Cross flushed and turned away. “You don't have to. I told you it wasn't that.”
Killer laughed. “Yeah, but you were lying.”
Cross didn't deny it. "Why are you here? Did Nightmare tell you to?"
"Why would he do that?" Killer leaned in, whispering despite the fact they were alone, "Did you do something?"
"No!" he objected immediately, "Just.. answer the question."
"Uh, I dunno? I was bored," he answered with ease, leaning into the wall and crossing one leg on top of the other.
"Why come to me though?" Cross shuffled, still avoiding Killer's eyes. It felt strange to ask such a needy question, as if he was opening a part of his soul to the other, saying something he shouldn't.
Killer shrugged again. "Why not?"
Cross frowned. It was a bit silly of him to imagine another reason for Killer's visit. There was usually very little meaning behind the things he does. Cross doesn't know why he was expecting anything else. He brushed the thought away, accepting Killer's presence as what it was; a coincidence.