The Stage is Set

The Crying DayDream pt.9

Crybaby - Melanie Martinez

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"Beautiful, he looks like an angel." Error's voice is soft, he doesn't want to disturb the two. He believed that they could hear him. Killer nods in agreement, his eye pips never leaving Ink's figure.

***

"So it's true then?" Dream looks back up at Ink with wonder in his gaze. Ink looks down at Dream in his lap. "That you are with child?"

Ink hums as he smiles, he brushes a hand against Dream's skull. That's such an odd way to put it. One that would only make sense from Dream. An eyebrow ridge quirks up with a teasing chuckle. "Oh? Did you finally realize? Or did Cross fill you in?"

Dream blushes, looking at the coffee table instead of meeting Ink's stare. He lets his gaze roam around the living room, before meeting Ink's sockets again. Had he been that oblivious? He probably should have been able to put that together himself, but he's been in stone for the last 500 years, sue him. "Yeah... He had to explain what it meant."

Ink bursts into laughter and Dream's face grows into a brighter shade of yellow. He hunches over, trying his best to rest his forehead against Dream's as he laughs. Dream whines about Ink making fun of him. Again, it isn't his fault he didn't know! The last time he checked, he was 506 years old, clearly too young to understand much of anything. It didn't help he was raised by a tree of all things. Dream lets it go, whining won't get him anywhere.

He smiles up at Ink with fondness, content to just lay in Ink's lap and listen to him laugh all day. Ink sits back up, pressing a hand against his ribcage before wiping his sockets free from his tears of laughter. He reaches out to grab the cup of caffeine-free tea that Cross brings him. Cross rolls his eyes at Dream with a smile before walking away, going back out to the garden. He was just taking a break from gardening with Blue. Ink takes a sip before giggling at Dream again. Dream sits up, staring at Ink's midriff with wonder and awe. That childlike wonder settling in again. A baby, not made from a tree, made inside a monster. It shocks him with wonder. How is it possible? How is a baby made? If not from a tree, then how? Is it normal for a baby to be made this way? What about his brother and him? Were they something like this, a soul inside a carrier?

Ink reaches over, placing the tea on a coaster before looking back at Dream. He grabs Dream's hands, amused by Dream's expression. Ink looks to the side, thinking for a second before looking back at Dream. "Do you want to see?"

Dream gasps in excitement. His eye pips expand with excitement. "Can I?"

Ink nods while chuckling, rubbing Dream's knuckles before moving to untie his obi belt. His sockets squint as he smiles. It will leave him vulnerable and he doesn't want to risk anything, but this is Dream. Dream, who was only six when he was turned into stone, is still a child after all this time. Dream stares with wondrous awe at the white ecto flesh with painted flowers. His fingers twitch with a yearning to touch. The soft flesh is barely touched with visible muscle and the flowers glow a pastel yellow at the mention of the child. It reminds Dream that Ink's lost quite a bit of muscle without being able to do as much training as he used to. It reminds Dream that it falls on all of them to protect Ink right now, he needs to save all the magic he can for them.

Dream's eyes are locked on the small bump where the most color appears on the flowers. It's as if the baby is trying to tell everyone how they feel. He wouldn't be surprised. He loves feeling the pulses of contentment from Ink and the baby with his aura. Ink grabs Dream's small wrists and guides his hands toward the bump. Dream's wings flutter gently in excitement as he touches the bump. Ink's ecto is soft, yet firm with the weight of the small skeleton. Dream's sockets widen as he sucks in a breath. He gets off the couch and scoots closer until he presses his skull against the flesh as if he could hear the baby, yet he hears only the soul beat. Dream gasps as he picks up on the soul beat, he wonders if the baby is lying against the flesh to tell anyone that is listening that they are alive. Do babies do that? Is that something normal?

He looks back up at Ink with tears. He can feel the joy coming from both. The contentment the baby feels, relaxing there. Dream looks back at Ink with a big smile as he watches the other tie his obi above the small bump again. Ink's loose clothes hide the baby from view. "Can I do anything? Food? Water?"

Ink chuckles, "I was planning on making some cookies for the two playing around in the dirt. Do you want to help?" Dream nods and Ink grunts with effort as he gets off the couch, placing a hand on his lower back. He huffs with soft laughter as Dream stands next to him. "Damn, they sure take a lot out of me now." Ink looks up at Dream before humming. "There's one thing you can do for me right now."

Dream perks up, he loves to help. "Yes? Do you need me to carry you? I can't cook, but maybe with your instructions-"

Ink waves him off with a grin. Dream reminds him of an excited puppy. "No, I'm still planning to make the cookies. But could you help take the weight off my back for a moment?"

Dream blinks in confusion, "What? How do I do that?"

Ink moves to stand infront of Dream with a small sigh. "Move your arms here. Yep, like that," Dream places his hands at the bottom of the ecto bump. "Now just gently lift, oh yeah. Just like that, thank you." Dream startles at the weight he's holding, the baby is heavier than he expected them to be. No wonder Ink is struggling. He's so short, and with the added weight, Dream can't imagine how much harder it's made it for Ink to get around. Ink sighs and leans into Dream's chest, letting himself breathe for a few minutes. Ink sighs before cracking open a socket. "Okay, thank you, Dream."

Dream quirks a browbone. "Are you sure? That wasn't very long. I can hold it for longer." Dream slowly lowers his hands, letting the weight settle into place.

Ink smiles. "It was enough for now. I'll probably ask you again later, sorry about that."

Dream waves his hand as they walk towards the kitchen from the couch. Dream watches in childlike joy as Ink waddles, it reminds him of a penguin. He likes penguins. "Not a problem! We're all here to help you!" Dream puts a fist in the air. "Now let's make some cookies for Cross and Blue!"

Ink chuckles. "As long as most of the cookie dough doesn't end up being eaten by you, we'll have enough for you too, Dream."

"Hey! It's not my fault that cookie dough tastes good! Especially with chocolate in it!"

***