Immortals and Empires

Chapter 8: Perpetual Cracks

Cross and Dream, mortal and immortal, never closer, never further.

Further developments, none of them good.

- - - - -

The bell tinkled as Cross slipped through the coffee shop's entrance.

"Wait up, Cross- have you paid your rent for this month-?"

"Oh, right-" Cross fumbled through his pockets. "Hold on- there! Here you go." He passed Ccino an envelope. Ccino gently slid it open and checked the amount before keeping it in his pocket.

"Oh, by the way, one of your friends stopped by to pass you something. They're upstairs- oh, yes, hello! What would you like?" Ccino turned away to help a customer, leaving Cross to head upstairs.

It was probably Horror or Dust, he thought, wincing as a dull thud crashed into his skull. It'd been there since the Ritual a few days ago where they'd all passed out, alongside the slight fogginess.

Had the ritual even worked?

He shook the thought off.

Killer still hadn't awoken. The rest had gradually awoken, but Killer...Killer still hadn't.

Cross's footsteps thudded as he approached his apartment door. It creaked open as he made his way inside and left his haversack on the floor.

"Ccino said you were waiting for-" He stopped. His...friend, as Ccino called him, was waiting by the window.

The problem was he wasn't Horror or Dust or even Killer.

Dream raised his gaze. "Oh! hello Cross," He smiled.

"...Hi, Dream...uh...why are you- here?" The headache thudded painfully.

"I just wanted to check in on you. By the way, I checked and...um...I'm sorry, but there wasn't a mistake."

Cross exhaled. "It's okay, it's fine, really."

"Yeah..." Dream looked away. "Anyway, I...oh, by the way, you have a very nice apartment."

"It's decent." Was it him or was the headache getting worse?

"Mhm..." Dream was looking at him strangely. "You okay? You seem a bit...tired."

"Just a headache."

"Alright, then. I, uh..."

"You have a gift for me, right?"

"Right! Right, yeah, I assumed you lost your locket and, uh, wanted to get you something similar."

"Oh. ...Thanks?" Cross accepted the locket that Dream dropped in his palm. It was silver instead of gold, but everything else was pretty similar.

"Yeah. Uh-" Dream was determinedly darting away from eye contact.

"...Are you alright? You seem...tired."

"Guess that makes both of us," Dream laughed, but it was devoid of much humour. "Sorry, I should probably leave soon."

Cross surveyed him. "If you need to talk, you can...swing by."

"As much as I'd like to, I'll probably be very busy since, y'know, the war." Dream laughed again, and this time in place of the missing humour was the slight note of melancholy.

"Then stay." His headache thudded. "If you want to, I mean. If you want- someone to...talk to."

How was it that every one of their encounters was awkward?

"..." Dream's gaze fell on him.

His headache stung.

Dream smiled, softly. "Thanks. That means...that means a lot."