Ch42 - Gang

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Cross' POV

The monochrome soldier did not have much of an opinion of Ashe, and certainly had no attachment to them. It was not that he did not like the smaller skeleton, just that he had not interacted enough with them to really form any. Being raised by somebody as awful as X-Gaster had left him slow to trust others, and Ashe was no exception to that.

Still, the monochrome soldier recognised how much of an impact Ashe's apparent kidnapping had on his little family. He saw the way Killer paced back and forth, unable to remain still for even a moment. He saw the way Dust slipped into complete verbal shutdown, not even using his signs to communicate, leaving him far quieter than he normally was. He saw how Horror looked, well, barely present; the gentle giant was unnaturally still aside from the occasional twitch, his single red eyelight bloated with worry.

Most importantly, he could see how even Nightmare was affected. Though the guardian had a carefully neutral expression, the way his tendrils writhed in the shadows like snakes ready to strike at the slightest movement made it clear his internal experience was nothing calm.

If even the guardian of negativity himself cared for Ashe this much, then, Cross supposed, he had to care as well. He couldn't afford not to, even if his instincts told him he should be indifferent to everyone and everything.

"Why the fuck are we just standing around here!? We should go back!" Killer shouted, his external soul shifting into worryingly unstable shapes.

"And do what, exactly, Killer?" Nightmare reasoned. Cross could tell the darker being was trying to absorb what negativity he could from the group, to help them calm, but doing so too much would only make things worse.

"Obviously, we should fuck shit up until they give Ashe back! The star sluts deserve to suffer for taking our brother away!" Killer exclaimed, the tar of his face dripping thickly down his skull. Killer was certainly one of the more expressive of the group at times/

"Lashing out with needless destruction will benefit nobody," Nightmare interjected coolly.

The monochrome guard looked towards him with a thoughtful gaze. To him, it was clear Nightmare had some sort of plan, some sort of strategy - the negative guardian always did. But with everybody so on edge, the other was clearly trying to stop the situation escalating.

It was better to come up with a plan whilst calm, then act impulsively and potentially make things even worse.

"We can't just fuck around and do nothing!" Killer hissed, and Dust let out a sort of noise that Cross interpreted as agreement.

To that, Nightmare's tendrils reached out, holding each of his boys closer to him. Cross was a little confused on why he was also included, but had to admit the soothing touch of those shadowy appendages helped make him feel calm and secure. There was so much thick intent, SAFE-BREATHE-PROTECT flooding their senses.

Nightmare was an entity far stronger than any of them, a literal god. If anybody could calm a group of unstable murderers, it made sense it would be him.

"Breathe. We will get Ashe back," he reassured. "I will contact Ashe directly through the Dreamscape the moment they are next asleep. This will give us a better understanding of the situation and thus allow us to determine the most appropriate course of action."

"What's there to understand!? They've been kidnapped! We need to force them to give Ashe back to us!" Killer yelled once more, squirming in the tendrils.

"And what, pray tell, do you think Ashe is doing in this moment? What approach have they taken with their captors?" the shadowed being reasoned, teal orb narrowed. "Have they lashed out and made themself seem unstable and unable to be reasoned with, like Killer would? Have they refused to speak, eat, or drink in a form of nonviolent protest, like Cross would? Or, perhaps, would they pretend they were forced to our side in order to aid their escape?"

Cross supposed the explanation made sense. If Ashe reacted violently and lashed out, to a point it seemed the Stars wouldn't get through to them, it was probably more likely they would be locked up someplace to be interrogated more harshly. But if Ashe were more cooperative, or even just passive, the circumstances could be vastly different.

The soldier raised his hand for a moment, a habit he had never unlearned to indicate he wished to speak. Once given permission, he did just that. "From what I have observed, Ashe seems to be relatively docile. Whilst they may not be the same towards our enemy, I think it is unlikely they will be violent," Cross explained. "And if they're not violent, Dream might try to manipulate them like he did with me."

Nightmare nodded to that. "That is a reasonable prediction and certainly poses a considerable concern," he agreed. "How are your soulbonds at this time? Are they still there?"

"Yes! No! I don't fucking know!" Killer cried out, his anger and frustration slowly turning to hopelessness.

"...The bonds are... present but... they're distant... blocked, maybe?" Horror vocalised slowly. "Little moments of... distress keep... coming through..."

"Distress? I'll gut that fucking–"

"Killer," Nightmare said firmly. It was not a scolding, but rather, an attempt to ground the other in their emotional state. "I understand you are all very concerned for Ashe. Whilst they may be in enemy hands, just keep in mind that Dream and the idiot painter won't kill them. We will get them back, but we need to find out more before we act or we risk putting them further into danger."

Nightmare then looked to Horror in particular. Whatever he was sensing clearly displeased him.

"...Whatever you are thinking of, Horror, its clouding your judgement. Do not act on anger." he squinted at the group. "As I cannot trust you all to go on missions at this time, you are to stay here at the manor until further notice."

"What!? Boss!"

"My decision is final," Nightmare commanded sternly. "In the meantime, I will attempt to contact Error. If Ashe is being kept in the Doodlesphere, he may be able to break through that defence."

"Why would glitchface even care? We all know he's a fucking psycho–"

"SuCh NoIsY AbOmInAtIoNs," a static voice called darkly from a newly formed portal behind the group. Cross felt his marrow run cold, recognising it instantly as the god of destruction. "I cAn AsSuRe YoU ThAt yOuR LiTtLe CrEaToR fRiEnD iS FiNe. ThEy WiLl fInD ThEiR WaY To Us, i WiLl MaKe SuRe Of iT. FoR NoW, DoN't bE A mOrOn - LiStEn tO tHe GoOpY AbOmOnAtiOn Or I wIlL MaKe yOu."

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