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This chapter contains: intrusive thoughts, spoilers for the route one apple scourge. themes of bullying, cannibalism, and hating yourself. It also includes flashbacks of not so great memories [sort of like PTSD flashbacks and nightmares] also, this story they are humans.. convenience purposes and nightmare's sort of nonverbal, sometimes his speaking goes off and on throughout the story

Nightmare stared off into space, or well, the ceiling in this case, the cold water washing up against him as he felt his head sink under the water a bit more. The water in his ears drowned out the noise of outside the bathroom but also the noises of his mind..to an extent. A small thought came to his mind, just a little 'how long would it take for everyone to notice I've drowned myself?' thought. He knew he shouldn't do that, though since one, that would become the trauma bathtub Everytime anyone else in the house took a bath after that incident and thought of nightmare and two, error would be upset. Besides, he didn't wanna make their lives worse.. everyone else had their own problems to deal with and he was supposed to be the one that didn't. At least that's how he saw it anyways, yet it was hard to talk to people about what had went down in his au. So, for as long as he could remember he's just been quiet, after all he's found that being quiet works pretty well. People often ignore and forget about you if you're quiet, they'll never ask you such stupid questions like: 'how are you?' because you're not there to them, but that doesn't work with the team. Cross used to be as quiet as he was and now cross was getting better. He was happy for everyone that was getting better, but he couldn't, he couldn't say a word to them for the fear of judgement. He knew they wouldn't, but deep down he still feared it.
Error had been knocking on the door for a few minutes now, just wanting to check on nightmare and since nightmare wasn't responding..he thought something bad had happened so he had opened the door after a few minutes or so, generally all the locks in the house have broken off except for the front door... somehow. Nightmare had noticed some familiar colors, he knew who it was without even having to look at error directly so he sat up in case error wanted to ask something or say something. Instead, error kneeled Infront of the tub, resting his arms on the edge. "Are you okay? You've been in here for a while so horror n the others got worried about you.." Error, despite not being very good at showing it, he cares about nightmare a lot. And nightmare did too, which makes it even harder for him to say something, Everytime he tried it felt like rose thorns piercing his throat and preventing him from getting a single breath out. Nightmare just nodded, putting on a small smile. Error was slowly recovering with his haphephobia, there were days where he couldn't stand touch at all and had to restart this progress for a few months because of it, nightmare was proud of how far error was coming, especially since he had been the one helping error with it.
Nightmare had gotten out of the tub, wrapping himself in a towel before leaving to go to his room and get changed into some clothes. He didn't see himself as a person, he knew the others saw him as a person but he himself didn't see himself like that. Years and years of dehumanization lead him to believe so, he was just a bunch of negativity that was supposed to be a guardian and now was just damaged goods. He looked into the mirror in his room, a nauseous feeling eating him out. He tried to shut his eyes to make that feeling go away, to not have to look at himself but at the same time he knew he'd only get worse if he didn't face it. Nightmare was a murderer, he knew this all too well, but what is exactly a murderer? Would someone who did it in a fit of panic and rage be considered a murderer morally? Would someone who killed their own brother on accident be considered a murderer even if he didn't really mean to? Or are murderers ones who kill with a lack of guilt and sleep just fine knowing what they did, who they harmed and what they could've destroyed and yet can still find the courage to look themselves in the eye in the mirror knowing they'll face consequences for their actions but simply can not gather anything to care, is that a murderer? Then by that definition, nightmare wasn't a murderer, legally it could be argued otherwise, but that wasn't needed.
The memories were still as vivid as ever, each time much fresher and much more mortifying.. constantly reliving the touch, the sickening noises and...the taste. He was back there again, the same day that had changed him and caused irreparable damage, the day that shattered him completely. Ever since the plague caused by the pollen of the apples of that once alluring tree, things have not been the same. In his memory, he had looked around towards the village, it was slowly but surely deteriorating. People were starving, he and dream were starving and the villager's cruelty only increased, going as far to say that he was responsible for causing the plague and the famine that followed after the drought. The only thing that withstood the drought was that damned tree, taunting in a way with how it loomed over the now feeble village and even feebler residents. Something about that damned tree was wrong, the grass that surrounded it was much greener and the tree's bark was thick and healthy. His side of the tree had much bigger apples than dream's, it made nightmare uneasy. It was as if the tree was absorbing everyone's life force, slowly draining the world of its greenery and nutrients.
The villager's treated nightmare as if he caused this when he in fact had not laid one finger upon that very tree, they look at him as if he himself killed his mother and the victims who had succumbed to the plague that hungrily devoured the lives of many. Yet, they treated his very own brother as if he was the savior of their home when in reality, he and dream were just kids with way too much responsibility that had to deal with adults and even kids their own age who were less mature than they were. Nightmare had used to think that being more responsible and mature than the adults was a good thing, now..now he just wishes he could've had a normal childhood. Nobody else had to be blamed for something as awful as a plague or a drought when they were younger. What kind of adult looks at a child and thinks they're ready for that kind of responsibility and believes that they should know everything they're supposed to do or what to do in emergencies? He was just a kid, he didn't understand why any of the adults that tormented him never just stopped and tried to think why this was wrong or why the ones that just stood by didn't stop and try to help him. He didn't do anything wrong to them at all, the only thing he did was do his job. He lost countless hours of sleep and childhood memories just to protect some stupid tree that his mother thought was safe with just a bunch of children. Were they not considered people or kids to anyone?
Oh well, that didn't matter now. Nightmare was an adult now and he couldn't act childish because the time for that is over. Other adults would've ostracized him for doing so because that's not how adults are supposed to act, when adults become adults they must throwaway their childishness and things that kept them happy as it's not very grown up to continue behaving like that. But when kids mature too early adults praise them for it, only to degrade the once child when they don't act very mature for once in their life. He had covered the mirror with his towel, now taking his brush and brushing out his long hair. It seems to get longer more and more, he would need error's help to cut it again or else it'll just continue to grow so long to where things were difficult. He already had enough difficulty, he didn't need more. So, after brushing his hair he limped his way to error's room. He paused, his hand hovering over the knob. He had figured that maybe error was busy and didn't want to be bothered by him.. so, he pulled his hand away. Error had opened the door, nearly hitting nightmare with the door which fortunately nightmare had moved out of the way. "You need me to cut it?" He had asked, pointing to nightmare's hair to which nightmare would nod, following error inside of the room.
Error smiled softly, occasionally taking glances at nightmare as he had looked for the good scissors. Error had a bit of a crush on nightmare, he wasn't sure what nightmare thought about that but he didn't quite plan on confessing to nightmare yet, he wanted to make sure that nightmare liked him back first before he does confess, if nightmare didn't then just oh well that sucks but there's other people out there. Nightmare never did talk much, if at all really but despite this he and nightmare were quite close. He found the scissors, putting a towel around nightmare's shoulders and began to cut nightmare's hair. Nightmare often kept his hair short to where it was up to his neck or just above the shoulders. So, error knew that nightmare wouldn't have minded if he went with either length. Besides they could always just fix it if he didn't like it, it's not going to be permanent. "There ya go, you look nice night.." error's hand would gently ruffle nightmare's hair, nightmare resting a hand on top of error's and simply holding error's hand to his head. Error had always wondered why nightmare never cared much for long hair, sure it can be hard to manage but it can still look nice and be styled in ways where it isn't too much to handle. Nightmare had blanked out, remembering the feeling of hands tugging at his hair and ripping pieces out, knotting things inside his hair, or just knotting it in general, tugging him by the hair towards them so that they could easier beat him or yell at him. Nightmare hated long hair. He hated it, he hated it so much because it reminds him of what they would do to him.
But..he loved error's long hair, he liked cross's soft and curly hair, he liked killer's straight and short hair, dust's and horror's messy hair but nightmare could never love his own. He's become conditioned into hating his, when he was younger he would try and cut it off himself, of course he wasn't able to since the village didn't own scissors- but they did have sharp knives which weren't exactly for hair. Playing with knives and trying to cut your hair with them is not an good idea, it only just leads to getting yourself hurt and yelled at. Error had noticed nightmare staring at his hair, he didn't find it odd one bit. "You want to braid it?" He now asked, nightmare being startled out of their thoughts before he'd nod, error sitting down. "Do you remember how to braid? If not I can teach you again, okay?" Nightmare remembered how to braid error's hair, he's always known how to braid hair since he used to braid dream's hair when he was still alive. Dream had adored getting his hair braided, he would always be so happy and go around telling the villagers that his brother braided his hair for him. So, they had gently took error's hair into their hands, separating it into three sections and crossing each of them over the other, braiding the hair.
Despite nightmare's struggle with talking they still are able to communicate with error just as good as he would if he could talk right now. Between the omniscient gods and himself, he's liked error for awhile now and knows that error likes him back but he struggles to get the words, gestures, expressions, whatever- out. He has a slight fear that if he does tell error then everything might change.. big changes stress him out. "Hey, nightmare, why do you not like having long hair, could I ask that?" Nightmare had suddenly stopped, it didn't even take a moment for error to know that something was wrong..he just knew. Looking in nightmare's eyes, he could see a whole bunch of anger, grief, pain, and hatred but none of it was directed towards error, that's one thing he knew for sure. A whole bunch of it was directed at himself and the ones who had caused him such pain. Nightmare hated himself back then, he still does..it didn't lessen over time like he had thought it would, he doesn't know how to make it all feel better and Everytime it's brought up in some form or another, accidentally or not, it still feels as if someone has their hand inside your stab wound, picking, tearing, pulling at the already damaged flesh, causing it to bleed more and make the healing process worse and get it infected.
"Night.." nightmare had shook their head, waving his hands frantically to try and dismiss his own feelings and reassure error that it was alright. It wasn't alright, he knew error didn't mean to upset them, error didn't know anyways and was just curious but it still hurt. Error seemed to have a sort of look, it was unreadable to nightmare for a good few minutes.. until he came to the realization. Pity? Was it? Did error pity him? is that the only reason they were so close? No, that wasn't pity, error was just worried and upset he made nightmare upset. Nightmare knew, but in the back of his mind that thought was still there, the thought that the only reason he's allowed to be here right now is because they pitied him, that everyone here pitied him. It was just a thought but it could be such a destructive thing. Nightmare was pulled into a tight hug, flinching at first before slowly hugging back in such a gentle way that his arms ghosted around error's body. The thorns in his throat seemed to increase, so did his rapid falling tears, his vision was getting blurry with tears as he could feel error slightly trembling. Error was a bit surprised with himself, but what shook him even more was the cracked noise that escaped nightmare.
   He just held nightmare in his arms, rubbing his back occasionally. He's never had nightmare ever really speak..but he knew nightmare would retreat farther into his shell if he had addressed the noise they made. Besides, nightmare needs comfort right now.. nightmare always avoided addressing trying to heal and recover from what he had underwent, error had somewhat of a hint as to why he did so, especially if it was a topic brought up with the others around. They just stayed like this, together in silence and just holding onto each other as if the other was going to fade away. Nightmare had ended up falling asleep in error's arms, his chest rising and falling at such a calm, steady pace as he slept sheltered and protected in a sense. If only they could get the words out to tell him this.

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