Abominations for Solutions

Restless Stars

18 Years Earlier

Cross lay sleepless in his gaping wide bed in his dimly lit room. The room that seemed all too empty. What time was it... the two-toned skeleton forced himself to flop his body over and peer at the digital clock on the nightstand near his side of the bed. The left side. 2:32 AM. And Dream still wasn't home. The right side of the bed was empty.

Obviously, Cross was horribly worried, as he nibbled on a dark chocolate bar, staring up at the ceiling and tracing out the small, engraved star-like patterns with his squinting eyes. He never ate dark chocolate. Unless he was worried. The bitter bite at the back of his throat sort of took his mind off of everything else that was so wrong at the moment. He never slept with the covers off either. Well, unless he was worried. Which he was... very much. Because Dream wasn't home. Dream had said he would be out on an expedition... an expedition that would only take a few hours. But that's what he said six hours ago. And he still wasn't home.

Dream had a habit of tackling missions whenever he felt significant negativity pulling at his aura from the multiverse beyond, despite how far away or tasking the mission may be. A mission here, in the middle of a conversation before dozing off, their eye sockets growing heavy. A mission there... while he and Dream were watching a show with Lux. It didn't matter how tired or occupied he was. If the multiverse needed him, he was there. No question. Cross more than anyone knew that Dream was tired, deep down and all over; the guardian himself was too tired to even realize he was in the first place. It wasn't like Cross could stop him. The multiverse needed him. No one needed Cross. But Cross couldn't help but choke in the bile of the fact. No one needed him. No one needed him, and he couldn't spend time with his partner, the one he dedicated his entire life to nearly ten years ago when he married him and settled down in Dreamtale, which was now perfectly abandoned. Living in his home AU was Dream's idea, figuring that Nightmare would have no interest in bothering them there. If there's no inhabitants, there's no negativity to feast upon. It was logically and ironically safe.

But these missions... they've become all too frequent. Cross didn't even know when they began to influx, only that they began to do so without context sometime in the undefinable past. A few missions here and there per week turned into at least one drawn out mission per day. And it was torture. Whenever Dream was away, he would often find himself gazing out the large bay window in the mansion's kitchen, staring at the towering perfect green hills in the horizon that seemed all too perfect and analytical. Other times, as stupid as it sounds, he would stall going to sleep so that he wouldn't have to feel so alone in the soft yet consuming sea of bed sheets and duvet blankets. Cross hated how this uncertainty, this loneliness made him feel. Like he was waiting for some event that may or may not occur within the future. Would he come back or not? His absolute worst dreaded fear was Dream never coming back at all, although he pushed this theory back into his mind. That didn't make it any less real though.

He hated how this waiting and longing reminded him of trying desperately to restore his demolished AU. How he hurt all of the time. How he had to hurt others. How he hurt worlds, even. How all of it made him hurt with the intensity of an entire multiverse reduced to shards of shattered glass. Especially when he was alone did he feel more and more like the monster of the X-Event and less and less than the Cross Dream forgave so many years ago.

Cross shifted for what was probably the sixth time within the past thirty minutes, purple perspiration collecting inside of his white furry coat, which he used as a comfort object, for some reason, especially while he slept. Breaking the fifteenth gourmet chocolate bar into two, he stuffed one half into his mouth and let the bitter mess gradually melt. He could hardly taste it anymore due to the tears and snot that began to collect in his sinuses.