Misery Loves Company

Pure Positivity...

It’s been a month since the beginning of the machine building, it still isn’t finished and you’re worried, Cross could be dust by now or even worse. Sci says that it should only take about two more months. Error has come over twice, needing you to heal him.

At the moment, you’re in the library, trying to ignore your own emotions while your boys are out, bringing despair to the AUs.

You felt very weird, weak in fact, and very warm. It instantly made you put your guard up, standing up and looking around as you spread your aura. You picked up nothing and assumed you were just sick, sitting back down, your tendrils feeling heavy as they suddenly dropped behind you.

You let out a noise of shock, eyesocket wide as you looked back. You felt very confused, struggling to even twitch the appendages, “what?” you say aloud, grunting in effort. You stand back up, a little unbalanced, you stumble.

You dissipate your tendrils for the first time in a long time, causing you to feel unprotected and exposed. You look to the door, teeth parting, about to call for assistance before you’re suddenly dragged back against something rather hard, your shriek muffled by a boney hand.

You send out a pulse of magic frantically.

Large golden wings sweep around, covering you and making you a thousand times warmer, your body growing exhausted in response, despite your struggling. You weakly tug at your hands, both binded, before falling limp, socket closing.

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You’re unsure of the time that you wake once again, but the room you're in is dark with hues of purple, cyan, and black. It looks eerily similar to your own room, but the design of the bed frame is different, the desk and vanity in your room is also gone, replaced by a two-person table. There are also only two doors, which you assume to be the bathroom and the door out.

Oh, you’re also chained to the bed. Your feet, unclothed and chained to the footboard, and your hands to the headboard. You tug at both and jolt as magic shoots through your body, not just any magic, positive magic. Your wrists ache at the power behind the shock and you wince.

You tug at the ones around your ankles as well, getting no shock, so you tug again. You continue to yank, but nothing comes of it, no shocks and your pulling not having enough force behind it to break the chain.

You growl as you lay still, thinking back to when you were kidnapped. You blame yourself for letting your guard down. You clench your fists, jolting as the door creaks open, revealing a tall white skeleton with large wings.

He’s tall, taller than you most definitely and broader than you as well. His large golden wings are even bigger, dwarfing him as well, and you can feel his warmth from your spot on the bed. It’s so very warm.

Pure positivity.

He grins at you, widely, as you study him. He’s donning an oversized furred cloak that drapes down to his knees, a typical Dream tunic under with an traditional white frilled button up shirt, a golden and orange belt holding up his dark grey suit pants, orange shoes with golden designs on his feet, and a typical Dream golden halo-like band floating above his person to top it off.

He steps into the room, closing the door behind him and you sneer at him. “where is cross?!” you demand to know, tugging at the restraints and ignoring the pain. He looks straight into your single eyelight and you feel a little unnerved as his smile softens, an overwhelming feeling of love and admiration flowing from him, and this is only what he’s allowing you to feel.

You growl, “answer me, dream!!” you shout, angry.

The chance that he was Dream or at least an alternate version of him was around ninety precent.

His eyesockets widen and his smile grows, “oh, you mean your little guard~?” his voice is smooth like honey and is a borderline purr, but it just serves to send your nerves crazy. “yes, cross!! where is he?! give him back!!” you screech, face melting at your rage, making you look particularly menacing.

You feel so weak, and your corruption feels sticky in equal amounts. The winged Dream smiles at you softly as he calls out, a maid responding. He whispers something and the monster runs off.

“of course, darling, i wouldn’t want you to be sad without your friend~” he purrs making you narrow your socket, “he is just your friend, right?~” he inquires, walking closer to you, sitting just beside you. “i don’t have to tell you anything, bastard!” you snark, scooting away from him as much as possible.

His gaze grows dark and he grasps your jaw in his large hand, the touch burning you. You cry out in pain, a cyan and purple tear beading up in your socket, “i won’t ask again” he states sternly, leaning in, and you flinch. “yes, stars, we’re just friends, you ass!” you growl out, yanking back from the heated touch, he smiles leaning back.

You can feel your jaw bruising and burned from his hands, but your magic heals it quickly, leaving no trace. You blink away the tear before it escapes and turn your head away from him.

You hear him murmur something and almost don’t catch it, “it wouldn’t be to good if you had found another lover in such a short period of time separated from me, but i won’t let that happen” he mumbles possessivly. You grit your teeth at your own fear and force the emotion down.

The door flys open, two guards donning full bodied armor dragging a struggling skeleton behind. You don’t get a good look until he’s turned. And stars, your soul aches.

His jaw is clearly cracked under the gag, a blindfold over both sockets, his clothes torn and burnt, and some of his bones broken and splintered under his own magic cuffs. You gasp in shock, “cross!!”, his name flying from your mouth before you realize. You tug at the restraints again, popping off your hands and feet to get out, it hurts tremendously and you cry out in agony before moving over to him, the guards being pushed from your way.

Your dettatched limbs melt, returning to your body as you pull Cross into a hug, tugging off his gag and blindfold. He cries out hoarsly and you realize you tugged a little too hard, but right after he leans into your embrace, purple magic leaking down his bruised face in the form of tears, though he makes no sound. Your magic instantly rises up to heal him as you glare at the twisted smiling version of Dream, and the two guards who stood once more, leaving at Dream’s order.

{The next chapter will be written in third person from the point of view of the gang}