The Retriever Institute

Finishing that Tour

Cross spends a couple minutes focusing on closing the wound with healing magic as well as wiping away any blood left on his face. Nightmare knocks, (like he said he would) and comes in to check on him just once, but otherwise seems content enough to leave him be when Cross says that he's okay. He's ashamed to realize that he forgot his entire plan with the blanket when he ran away from Nightmare. That's never happened before, not like that at least. He doesn't even know what to call what he felt. It wasn't strategy, that's for certain.

He feels like an idiot.

He felt like he was going to get killed if he kept being such an idiot. Just like—

He feels sick now.

Cross shoves the weight of everything away, vicious in his refusal. Giving himself a last look in the mirror, eyelights lingering on the tiredness of his sockets, he walks into his bedroom. Cross collects his blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. He just holds onto the bloody rag, unsure what to do with it. When he walks into the main room, Nightmare is waiting for him. The other skeleton is just sitting on the couch, watching the contents of his mug carefully.

Cross can read it now. It says world's best... Super secret government agent trainer guy. Well, that's getting into unneeded specifics, but he supposed it was true. He sort of wonders where he found such an item, if this occupation were really so secret. Night wearing a hoodie and a tee shirt now, but he's kept his suit pants. Nightmare doesn't even seem to notice him. Cross plans to stand still until he bothers to look up, but it seems clear after a moment or two that the other is in his own world.

"Nightmare."

The taller looks over at him, eyelight seeming to concentrate a little as he's brought back to reality. He really hadn't been paying attention. The tall skeleton just smiles a little, "my apologies. I was thinking." Cross only nods in response. He looks smaller, sitting down on the couch with his legs crossed up on the cushion. Deceptively harmless, he's sure. Nightmare stands up slowly and walks back over to the kitchen archway, gesturing for Cross to come stand with him.

"Still want the tour?" He asks, giving him a glance over.

"Yes"

"Alright, this is the kitchen. The food is in here, you can put that rag in this basket, that's where the dirty rags go. Someone will come by to take them and wash them."

"Why would they take them... and wash them?"

"Well, they'll give them back later. We pay them to do that..."

"Oh." Cross isn't willing to admit that what he said doesn't make it make anymore sense than it had before.

"Yes, and here is the food." Nightmare opens a large cabinet to reveal deep shelves filled with more food than Cross has seen together in a long time. "And over here is the stove, it's electric." He gestures to a large metal box. "And this is the microwave." A small metal box. "And this is the fridge." This time the box is a big rectangle, still metal though. He opens it for a moment to show him, inside is more food.

Cross is astonished. This could last months if they rationed it properly. How incredible.

"It's a lot, I know. Any thoughts?" Night asks.

"This... This food it'll last us months. "

"We have more, I promise. You won't ever see these cabinets, or this fridge empty. Alright? We always have a supply of food. If we're running low on anything you enjoy having, just mention it and I can get us more."

"How?" Cross asks, intruiged.

Nightmare laughs a little, "well, we have gardens and food suppliers here. I could even take you to see the gardens sometime. I'm sure our Garden staff would appreciate the company."